OADSB W(QIlS^Gm MEMOMAL 
 
 i Tfl I 
 
 
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 MILTON. 
 
 I. PROSE WORKS. 
 
 II. POETICAL WORKS. 
 
 PARIS: 
 
 A. & W. GALIGNANI & Co. RUE VIVIENNE. 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY J. R. AND C. CHILDS, BUNGAY. 
 
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tiIe 
 
 
 JOHN MILTON; 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTORY REVIEW, 
 
 ROBERT FLETCHER. 
 
 PARIS: 
 
 A. & W. GALIGNANI & Co. RUE VIVIENNE. 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY J. R. AND C. CHILDS, BUNGAY. 
 

 f. 7 / 
 
  
 
 1 
 
 AN 
 
 INTRODUCTORY REVIEW, 
 
 The name of Milton is his monument. It is venerable, national, and sacred ; and yet, 
 with whatever glory invested, it is inscribed, and not unworthily, upon this volume. 
 
 To her great poet England has done justice. His renown equals his transcendent 
 merits. His name is a synonyme for vastness of attainment, sublimity of conception, 
 and splendour of expression. A people profcjss to be his readers. His poetry is in all 
 hands. It is in tnUh a fountain of living waters in the very heart of civilization. Its 
 tendency is even more magnificent than its composition. Combining all that is lovely in 
 religion, with all that in reason is grand and beautiful, it creates, while it gratifies, and at 
 the same time purifies, those tastes and powers that refine and exalt humanity. It is almost 
 of itself, not less by the invigorating nature of its moral than of its intellectual qualities, 
 sufficient to perpetuate the stability of an empire. Constituting a most glorious portion 
 of our best inheritance, his poetical writings are, emphatically, national works; and as 
 such, long may they be revered and esteemed amongst us ! " They are of power," to use 
 his own words, " to inbreed and cherish in a great people the seeds of virtue and public 
 civility." They will be lost, only with our language : — the tide of his song will cease to 
 flow, only with that of time. Having won, he wears, the brightest laurels ; and by the ac- 
 clamations of ages, rather than the testimony of individuals, his seat is with Homer and 
 Shakespeare on the poetic mount. To apply again his own language to his own achieve- 
 ments, he has sung his " elaborate song ;" — he has performed the covenant of his youth, 
 " to offer at high strains in new and lofty measures ;" — his devout prayer to that Eternal 
 Spirit, " who can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his seraphim 
 with the hallowed fire of his altar to touch and purify the lips of whtQiit he pleases," has 
 been heard and answered ! 
 
 " Oh ! what great men hast thou not produced, England ! my countr}* !" might we ex- 
 claim with one of the first of modem goets and philosophers, when contemplating these and 
 similar works. And a thorough Englishman this great poet was ! Prelates, and tithes, 
 and kings, were not the burthen of his song, and therefore the poetry can be praised even 
 by tliose whose souls are wrapped up in these things. While he soared away " in the 
 high reason of his fancies," and meddled not with the practical affairs of life, his enemies 
 can be complimentary, and undertake to bow him into immortality. They woidd fain 
 suppress all other monuments of this Englishman : — it remains for us to appreciate them. 
 Let us never think of John Milton as a poet merely, however in that capacity he may have 
 adorned our language, and benefited, by ennobling, his species. He was a citizen also, 
 with whom patriotism was as heroic al a passion, prompting him to do his country ser^'ice, 
 as was that " inward prompting" of poesy, by Avhich he did his country honour. He was 
 alive to all that was due from man to man in all the relations of life. He was invested 
 
 ^lo7'r.'ir 
 
ii INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 wiA a power to mould the mind of a nation, and to lead the people into " the glorious ways 
 of truth, and prosperous virtue." The poet has long eclipsed the man ; — he has been 
 imprisoned even in the temple of the muses ; and the very splendour of the bard seems 
 to be our title to pass " an act of oblivion" on the share he bore in the events and discus- 
 sions of the momentous times in which he lived. Ought not rather his wide renown, in 
 this capacity, to lead us to the contemplation and study of the whole of his character and 
 his works } Sworn by a father, who knew what persecution was, at the first altar to 
 freedom erected in this land ; he, a student of the finest temperament, bent on grasping 
 all sciences and professing none, and burning with intense ambition for distinction — for- 
 sook his harp, " and the quiet and still air of delightful studies ;" and devoted the energies 
 of earliest and maturest manhood, to be aiding in the grandest crisis of the first of human 
 causes : and he became the most conspicuous literary actor in the dreadful yet glorious 
 drama of the Great Rebellion. He beheld tyranny and intolerance trampling upon the 
 most sacred prerogatives of God and man, and he was compelled by the nobility of his 
 nature, by the obligations of virtue, by the loud summons of beleagured truth, in short, by 
 his patriotism as well as his piety, to lay down the lyre, whose earliest tones are yet so 
 fascinating ; to " doff his garland and singing robes," and to adventure within the circle 
 of peril and glory : and, buckling on the controversial panoply, he threw it off, only when 
 the various works of this volume, surpassed by none in any sort of eloquence, became the 
 record and trophy of his achievements, and the worthy forerunners of those poems, which 
 a whole people " will not willingly let die." 
 
 The summit of fame is occupied by the poet, but the base of the vast elevation may 
 justly be said to rest on these Prose Works ; and we invite his admirers to descend from 
 the former, and survey the region that lies roimd about the latter, — a less explored, but not 
 less magnificent, domain. 
 
 The recovery of a good book is a sure and certain resuirection. The envious deluge of 
 oblivion cannot long settle over such works as these. The rainbow springs up, and we see 
 it on the tempestuous aspect of Uiese times, — a sign of the storm, and a signal of peace ! 
 
 We are not now employed on ruins. John Milton's works have been long buried, but 
 they are not consumed ; — long neglected, but they are not injured. Many of them certainly 
 have to do with the interests of time, but dl of them are impregnated with thoughts which, 
 springing from the depths, shall partake of the immortality of the spirit, and outlive the 
 world in which they were uttered. Though temporal they are not temporary. Tliere is a 
 breadth and grandeur of aim in them, which embraces the well-being of man both here and 
 hereafter, and renders them interminably precious. " Books," says their author, " are 
 not absolutely dead things," — " they contain a progeny of life in them to be as active as 
 that soul whose progeny they are," — " the precious life-blood of a master-spirit embalmed 
 and treasured up to a life beyond life." — " They preser^'e, as in a vial, the purest efficacy and 
 extraction of that living intellect that bred them." It is astonishing that these books should 
 not in our time have been appreciated by the people, and it is greatly to be regretted, not 
 merely for the sake of their author, but for the general interests of truth, and the cultivation 
 of learning, eloquence, and taste amongst us, that they should be so little read. Had they 
 been lost, — had his enemies succeeded in their diabolical project of mutilating, or of annihi- 
 lating the chief of them, — had other priests than those " in the neighbourhood of Leeds," met 
 in other places, over sacerdotal beer, to " sacrifice them to the flames,"* how we should have 
 lamented over our irreparable loss ! Having his poems, we should have learned that they 
 sprung up out of the ashes of controversy ; — we should then " imitate the careful search that 
 Isis made for the mangled body of Osiris !" We should have remembered the era in which 
 he lived, and we should have felt our loss as deeply as we sympathized with his party, 
 * See Richard Baron's note, in this edition, to his preface to the Iconoclastes. 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. iii 
 
 who vvilh such strong hands and dauntless hearts, wrought out for us our political salva- 
 tion. Possessing them, we might have said, that we should have known more of one of the 
 greatest of men, and have been admitted into the presence-chamber of his every-day soul. — 
 We should have had his opinions on the cardinal points of human and divine controversy, 
 and have heard him, who in immortal accents dictated the " Paradise Lost," debate, and 
 reason, and argue, as an orator, and a politician ! Believing, with Coleridge, that poetry 
 is the blossom and fragrancy of all human knowledge, human thoughts, human passions, 
 emotions, language, — and that no man was ever yet a great poet, without being at the 
 same time a profound philosopher — we should certainly, reasoning from verse to prose, d 
 priori, have said, that such a mind as Milton's, so sober and yet so fiery, so full and yet so 
 strong, so replete with wisdom and so stored with learning, with such a mastery in tlie 
 execution of all its movements, must, if roused and excited, and roused and excited it would 
 undoubtedly be by any theme or cause in which the rights of man or the honour of God were 
 concerned, have been equally splendid in any imdertaking; and that even in the very different 
 forms of prose and verse, or controversy and poetry, his efforts would be distinguished by 
 the identical attributes of power and beauty ; — that the image and superscription upon each 
 would be the same ; — that with very little variation where it was possible, (for no one un- 
 derstood decorum better than Milton,) the very same terms in which a critic of his poetry 
 would speak of that, especially of his didactic poetrj", would be applicable to his prose ; 
 that probably the mannerism of the one would mark the other, and that there would be 
 so striking a resemblance and analogj' between them, that you might safely assert that the 
 author of the one must be the author of the other. We should leani from one of his ex- 
 quisite sonnets, that the utter loss of sight followed, and that he knew that it would follow, 
 his exertions in composing a " Defence of the People of England" against Salmasius. 
 
 " overplv'd 
 In Liberty's defence, my noble task, 
 Of which all Europe rings from side to side." 
 
 ITow anxious should we have been to have examined and pored over that production, wliich 
 the world had obtained from the magnanimous poet at such a price ! If such had been our 
 anticipati(5ns and regrets, what would be our rapture, to have rescued a fragment from 
 the grasp of time, and have unrolled it.' 
 
 That were indeed a bursting forth 
 Of genius from the dust ! 
 
 In the teeth of these imaginary regrets, the fact is indisputable, that these works of John 
 Milton (and in this respect they share the same fate with those of Jeremy Taylor and 
 others of the same age, and of equal merit) are by the vast majority of his countrymen 
 comparatively neglected — that tens of thousands of readers, and diligent ones too, in 
 modem novelties, have never heard of Milton as aught else than as one of the powers of 
 song. How is it that the world will do justice, (nominally at least,) to the minstrel, and 
 not to the man, — thrill with his poetry, and neglect his prose ? Is it sheer ignorance, or is it 
 neglect ? If the latter, there is not an equal instance of unworthy neglect on record. It is 
 ultimately traceable to the elevated character of the writings themselves. John Milton 
 was a teacher, and this world does not like to be taught. His " fit audience," in the world, 
 will always be " few." The world's taste is but the handmaid and servant of a sterner 
 and stronger power, whose empire lies in the passions of the depraved heart ; which, while 
 unrenewed, never can and never will cease to treat both the highest poetry and the 
 divinest philosophy with mingled hatred and contempt. The world will still slay the pro- 
 phet, and then piously build his sepulchre. Whether they who profess to be the patrons 
 
iv INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 of Christian literature, have joined tlie world in this good work, is another and a wider 
 question. 
 
 It may not be amiss to advert to some accidental circumstances which may account for, 
 though they cannot justify, the very general indifference with which these and similar works 
 have been treated. We shall not allude to tlie ponderous and expensive form in which 
 they have hitherto appeared : an impediment however of no mean imj)ortance. 
 
 Now that the prejudices against the regicides, under which opprobrious term are included 
 all who bore part against King Charles I. in what is yet termed the " Great Rebellion," 
 are wearing away, they need not be classed among the obstacles referred to. The prin- 
 ciples of civil and religious liberty, which Milton and his compatriots contended for, have 
 become part and parcel of the law of the land. The people feel, that the British Constitu- 
 tion, by the Revolution of 1688, is based upon the fragment of the Rebellion, and that the 
 doctrines of the one are settled by the other. Tyranny, absolute — Charles the 1st — 
 tyranny, whether civil or ecclesiastical, is impossible. A few shadows and semblances of 
 it may remain — but spectres are out of date — 
 
 the sun is on the orient wave, 
 Each fettered ghost slips to his several grave ! 
 
 We have the happiness to live under a limited monarchy, with republican institutions — a 
 mild aristocracy, a temperate but powerful democracy. But to whom are we indebted for 
 these blessings .' Extremes meet. When men are secure they are ungrateful ; and when 
 they enjoy those rights for which their ancestors fought, they forget the peril and toil of 
 the achievement. We must also remember that multitudes in this countiy are too busy 
 with the present, to bestow much attention on the past or future, whether near or less re- 
 mote. This is the case with many, too many, who are not destitute of liberal curiosity, or 
 incapable of relishing the pleasures of taste, and cherishing the liveliest emotions of 
 gratitude to their benefactors. They cannot, while under the perpetual pressure of the in- 
 exorable daily duties or pleasures of life, be either affected or attracted by any thing else. — 
 These are causes which have been, and will always be, in action, and unless jealously 
 watched, will dwarf us into a nation of pigmy " toutos cosmites." 
 
 We shall find too, in the literary injustice with which these works have been treated, and 
 in the influence which the parties chargeable with it, have exercised over the public mind, 
 another extrinsic cause of the neglect that has been poured upon them. The critics of 
 Milton have hitherto confined, with one or two exceptions, their labours to his poetry, — a 
 quarry which they have not yet exhausted. And as they seldom have entered verj' deeply 
 into the art itself, employing, as it must, in its evolution the language of real life, or prose, 
 many, instead of being led by the one down to the other, are apt to conclude, that sur- 
 passing excellence in the higher department of literature is incompatible with success in 
 the lower ; overlooking or forgetting the well-known fact, that the best writers in prose 
 have ever been the poets ; that energy of thought or common sense is a characteristic of all 
 genius ; and that universality is the prerogative of the highest. Milton's moral and intel- 
 lectual character has, for a long while, been tacitly placed under the guardianship of his 
 most bitter antagonists. It unfortunately happens that the most popular of his biographers 
 is his most malignant traducer. Dr. Johnson's treatment of Milton is, in every possible 
 point of view, bad ; 
 
 " Unmanly, ignominious, infamous!" 
 
 The poetry is beyond the reach, though within the scope, of his " mighty malice ;" and his 
 meagre and contemptuous references in the life of their author, to his Prose Works, are as 
 discreditable to his taste and insight as a philosopher, as his creed is disgraceful to him as 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. v 
 
 an English politician. With an eye for no beauty, an ear for no music, a heart for no 
 ecstasies, a soul in no unison with the sympathies of humanity, Dr. Johnson was fitly 
 doomed to be the giant drudge of the Delia Cruscan school; a thunderer, and yet his own 
 Cyclops, whose task it was to forge the bolts of destruction, and whose glory to hurl them. 
 Who that (and what numbers !) have formed their estimate of these Prose Works from his 
 account of them, would have any idea of their real merits ? If his report be fair and true, 
 well might we exclaim with Manoah in the Samson Agonistes, 
 
 Oh ! miserable change ! Is this the man, 
 That invincible Samson, far renowned, 
 The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength 
 Equivalent to angels walked their streets. 
 None offering fight ; who, single combatant, 
 Duell'd their armies, ranked in proud array, 
 Himself an army : now unequal match 
 To save himself against a coward armed 
 At one spear's length ! 
 
 Johnson's life of Milton is a most disingenuous production. It is the trail of a serpent 
 over all Milton's works. Nothing escaped the fang of detraction. Nothing in purity of 
 manners and magnanimity of conduct, nothing in the sanctity of the bard, in the noble 
 works, and yet nobler life, of the man, could shield his immeasurable superior from cowardly 
 and almost savage malignity. He has treated his very ashes with indignity. He made 
 himself merry with the mighty dead. He trampled, upon his memory and his grave. 
 And who can deny that the traducer knew full well, that the heart of his countryman, 
 then mouldering in the dust of death, had ever beaten high with the sublimest emotions 
 of love to his country and to his God, and that the then powerless hand of our mightiest 
 minstrel, could not be convicted of having ever penned a line which did not equally 
 attest the purity of his motives and the splendour of his genius. But Johnson's misrepre- 
 sentations and calumnies, and that heartless faction of which he was certainly an eminent 
 representative, have had their day : and inconceivably injurious though they have been 
 to the honour of John Milton, sure we are that the time is fast approaching, yea now is, 
 when the man as well as the poet shall be redeemed from obloquy — not by any in- 
 terpretation of his opinions however honest, or estimate of his character however cor- 
 rect, nor even by the panegyric of his admirers however eloquent (and some of sur- 
 passing merit have lately been pronounced) ; but the great achievement shall be won 
 by himself, and by himself alone. With his ox^ti strong axe shall he hew down, not 
 merely his adversaries, but their errors. Let him but be heard. The charges against 
 him are in all hands; here, in this one volume, is to be found their triumphant, but 
 neglected, refutation. 
 
 It is not generally known, that in the Dictionary Dr. Johnson takes a few examples 
 of meanings of words from two only of these Prose Works, (the Tract on Education 
 and the Areopagitica,) both of which do not occupy many pages of this edition, while 
 the rest, teeming with illustrations equally interesting and appropriate, are not, we believe, 
 once appealed to. In the Inaugiural Discourse delivered by Henry Brougham, Esq. on 
 being installed Lord Rector of the University of Glasgow, is it not remarkable, that, when 
 upon the very topic of eloquence, and that the eloquence of the English masters, and when 
 urgently advising his young auditory to meditate on their beauties, there is not the slightest 
 allusion to John Milton by name. " Addison," says Brougham, (this cannot be an enu- 
 meration of all the favourites ?) " may have been pure and elegant ; Dryden airy and 
 nervous ; Taylor witty and fanciful (! !) ; Hooker weighty and various ;" but the young 
 disciple hears not once mentioned the name of John Milton, whose writings are most 
 
vi INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 i 
 
 deeply imbued with the spirit of that literature, to promote the study of which was the main 
 object of this very discourse. Milton's profound acquaintance with the Greek authors, was 
 equalled only by his enthusiastic admiration of them. The following testimony, taken 
 from the first letter to Leonard Philara, the Athenian, might surely have given additional 
 weight to tlie authority of the Lord Rector. " To the MTitings of those illustrious men 
 which your city has produced, in the perusal of which I have been occupied from my 
 youth, it is with pleasure I confess that I am indebted for all my proficiency in literature." 
 
 This is literary injustice. We cannot but regret that the illustrious individual we refer 
 to, who has given an impulse to the mind of his age, favoured not his numerous disciples, 
 and more numerous admirers, with a criticism upon the " An^opagitica " of the greatest 
 ** schoolmaster " the world ever produced ! 
 
 Certain parties in the state, who cannot endure any appeal to the criteria of experience, have 
 set up a cry, " The wisdom of our ancestors !" The formidable phrase holds principally in 
 politics, (and in this point of view it is a dangerous one,) but like a parasitical weed it has 
 begun to clasp round the literature of our forefathers, and should be rooted up. We are 
 firm believers in the capabilities of modems, and credit not the notion of necessary de- 
 generacy ; yet we must profess, that we hold in profoundest veneration that aggregate of 
 communities which we call the past. The spirit of the vaunting cry we have referred to, 
 would throw the world back into chaos. As far as individual minds are concerned, it would 
 extinguish the divinest intellects that were ever enshrined in the form of man. Being the 
 offspring of our fathers, we come into their stead. Why not avail ourselves of our advan- 
 tages ? Why not profit by our noblest inheritance ? If we must suffer from the folly, why 
 not make use of the wisdom, of our ancestors ? Englishmen, above all nations, may exclaim, 
 " What have we, that we have not received ?" What a treasure of moral and political 
 wealth is there not laid up for us in the archives of the past ! Even novelty itself is the 
 effect of antiquity. We come into no new world ! We are cast into the ancient mould of 
 things ! Man springs from man, and age from age ; therefore all the past bears upon the 
 present, and we cannot understand thoroughly that which is, or is to be, without also know- 
 ing that which has been. Knowledge leans upon experience, and experience leans upon 
 the past ! But it is not our intention to renew the foolish fight which obtained last cen- 
 tury, between the ancients and the modems. There is another party in the state who are 
 perhaps the parents of the noxious phrase we have referred to, and should have been first 
 noticed. These take it for granted, that the wisdom of our ancestors is that which is most 
 like their own ; and no wonder that they have brought it into contempt. Such admirers of 
 the wisdom of our ancestors, may not meet with it here. True wisdom knows nothing of 
 the terms ancient or modern, and her spheres are not so inharraoniously adjusted as to pro- 
 duce confusion, or come into collision. But within her magic circles of the past, rise up 
 the awfiil spirits, " whose words are oracles for mankind, whose love embraces all countries, 
 and whose voice sounds through all ages !" 
 
 The literary character of the times may also be unfavourable to our undertaking. — This is 
 an age of tracts, not of folios — fruitful in flowers, rather than in the forest-trees of literature, 
 which perhaps it is the tendency of civilization to root up or to fell. The mind of the 
 country is to be irrigated, some say regenerated, by a sort of periodical garden-engines. 
 For this purpose the fountains of the great deep are " broken «p," but not into; yet when 
 we remember that there is now read a vast deal more than ever, we cannot despair of an 
 attempt to popularize in this " multum in parvo" shape, the Prose Works of our great poet. 
 Their intrinsic merits, their former celebrity, their author's fame, the daily agitation all along 
 since their publication, of the very principles which he advocated, and which thousands 
 yet deny, should have swept away the curse of the dust from these volumes long since, and, 
 in " such a nation as this, not slow and dull, but of a quick, ingenious, and piercing spirit," 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. vii 
 
 should, in spite of popular ingratitude or fickleness, or the fire of the common hangman, or 
 the cavils and scandals or cobwebs of party criticism, have opened their immortal pages, 
 and caused them to be known and read of all men, who are capable of relishing works of 
 art, or of comprehending or realizing truths, for the forgetfulness or rejection of any one of 
 which, " whole nations sometimes fare the worse." 
 
 Principles, whether political or religious, are always important. As far as the former are 
 concerned, we doubt not that our undertaking will be as successful as it is opportune. The 
 spirit of the age is favourable to the truths which John Milton taught. The tracts on 
 Ecclesiastical Policy possess as much interest now as when they were first published. This 
 " schoolmaster" is abroad : and a whole people shall rejoice in his insti-uctions, as they 
 once took refuge in his defence. An oracular and prophetical voice, long silenced, is again 
 heard, warning his enemies, and guiding and encouraging his friends and followers, never 
 more to be abashed ! 
 
 The life and character of John Milton are well known, and the great political events of 
 his time, have of late received satisfactory and abundant illustration. Omitting, therefore, 
 biographical and historical details, it shall be our object to present the reader with a brief 
 and simple account of the contents of this volume. We shall observe in our examination 
 the order of chronology. All the works, with the exception of the letters, and a few 
 others, are controversial, and relate equally and entirely to civil and religious liberty. They 
 embrace a period of about nineteen years, — the most eventful in our history. It will be 
 
 ' interesting, to take up here that account of himself which an ungenerous adversary had 
 wrung from him, — and to prefix to our review such parts of it, as may throw the light of 
 
 k his own opinion on his own performances. 
 
 In " The Second Defence of the People of England," translated from the Latin by 
 Robert Fellows, A. M. Oxon. l>e is led in self-defence to " rescue his life from that species 
 of obscurity, which is the associate of unprincipled depravity." 
 
 " This it will be necessary for me to do on more accounts than one : first, that so many 
 good and learned men among the neighbouring nations, who read my works, may not be 
 induced by this fellow's calumnies, to alter the favourable opinion which they have formed 
 of me ; but may be persuaded that I am not one who ever disgraced beauty of sentiment 
 by deformity of conduct, or the maxims of a freeman by the actions of a slave ; and that the 
 whole tenour of my life has, by the grace of God, hitherto been unsullied by any enormity 
 or crime. Next, that those illustrious worthies, who are the objects of my praise, may know 
 that nothing could afflict me with more shame than to have any vices of mine diminish the 
 force or lessen the value of my panegyric upon them ; and lasUy, that the people of Eng- 
 land, whom fate, or duty, or their own virtues, have incited me to defend, may be convinced 
 fiom the purity and integrity of my life, that my defence, if it do not redound to their 
 honour, can never be considered as their disgrace. I will now mention who and whence I 
 am. I was bom at London, of an honest family ; my father was distinguished by the 
 undeviating integrity of his life ; my mother by the esteem in which she was held, and the 
 alms which she bestowed. My father destined me from a child to the pursuits of literature ; 
 and my appetite for knowledge was so voracious, that from twelve years of age I hardly 
 ever left my studies, or went to bed before midnight. This primarily led to my loss of 
 sight. My eyes were naturally w^eak, and I was subject to fi-equent headaches ; which, 
 however, could not chill the ardour of my curiosity, or retard the progress of my improve- 
 ment. My father had me daily instructed in the grammar school, and by other masters at 
 home. He then, after I had acquired a proficiency in various languages, and had made a 
 
 •considerable progress in philosophy, sent me to the University of Cambridge. Here I 
 passed seven years in the usual coiurse of instruction and study, with the approbation of 
 the good, and without any stain upon my character, till I took the degree of master of arts. 
 
Mii INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 After this 1 did not, as this miscreant feigns, run away into Italy, but of my own accord 
 retired to my father's hojise, whither I was accompanied by the regrets of most of the 
 fellows of the college, who shewed me no common marks of friendship and esteem. On 
 my father's estate, where he had determined to pass the remainder of his days, I enjoyed 
 an interval of uninterrupted leisure, which I devoted entirely to the perusal of the Greek and 
 Latin classics ; though I occasionally visited tlic metropolis, either for the sake of purchas- 
 ing books, or of learning something new in mathematics or in music, in which I, at that 
 time, found a source of pleasure and amusement. In this manner I spent five years, till 
 my mother's deatli, I then became anxious to visit foreign parts, and particularly Italy. 
 My father gave me his permission, and I left home with one servant. On my departure, 
 the celebrated Henry Wootton, who had long been King James's ambassador at Venice, 
 gave me a signal proof of his regard, in an elegant letter which he wrote, breathing not 
 only the warmest friendship, but containing some maxims of conduct which I found very 
 useful in my travels. The noble Thomas Scudamore, King Charles's ambassador, to whom 
 I carried letters of recommendation, received me most courteously at Paris. His lordship 
 gave me a card of introduction to the learned Hugo Grotius, at that time ambassador from 
 the Queen of Sweden to the French court ; whose acquaintance I anxiously desired, and to 
 whose house I was accompanied by some of his lordship's friends. A few days after, when 
 I set out for Italy, he gave me letters to the English merchants on my route, that they 
 might shew me any civilities in their power. Taking ship at Nice, I arrived at Genoa, and 
 afterwards visited Leghorn, Pisa, and Florence. In the latter city, which I have always 
 more particularly esteemed for the elegance of its dialect, its genius, and its taste, I stopped 
 about two months ; when I contracted an intimacy with many persons of rank and learn- 
 ing; and was a constant attendant at their literary parties ; a practice which prevails there, 
 and tends so much to the diffusion of knowledge and the preserv^ation of friendship. No 
 time will ever abolish the agreeable recollections which I cherish of Jacob Gaddi, Carolo 
 Dati, Frescobaldo, Cultellero, Bonomatthai, Clementillo, Francisco, and many others. 
 From Florence I went to Siena, thence to Rome, where, after I had spent about two months 
 in viewing the antiquities of that renowned city, where I experienced the most friendly 
 attentions from Lucas Holstein, and other learned and ingenious men, I continued my route 
 to Naples. There I was introduced by a certain recluse, with whom I had travelled from 
 Rome, to John Baptista Manso, Marquis of Villa, a nobleman of distinguished rank and 
 authority, to whom Torquato Tasso, the illustrious poet, inscribed his book on friendship. 
 During my stay, he gave me singular proofs of his regard ; he himself conducted me round 
 the city and to the palace of the viceroy ; and more than once paid me a visit at my lodg- 
 ings. On my departure he gravely apologized for not having shewn me more civility, which 
 he said he had been restrained from doing, because I had spoken with so little reserve on 
 matters of religion. When I was preparing to pass over into Sicily and Greece, the melan- 
 choly intelligence which I received, of the civil commotions in England, made me alter my 
 purpose ; for I thought it base to be travelling for amusement abroad, while my fellow 
 citizens were fighting for liberty at home. While I was on my way back to Rome, some 
 merchants informed me that the English Jesuits had formed a plot against me if I returned 
 to Rome, because I had spoken too freely on religion ; for it was a rule which I laid down 
 to myself in those places, never to be the first to begin any conversation on religion ; but if 
 any questions were put to me concerning my faith, to declare it without any reserve or fear. 
 I nevertheless returned to Rome. I took no steps to conceal either my person or my 
 character ; and for about the space of two months, I again openly defended, as I had done 
 before, the reformed religion in the very metropolis of popery. By the favour of God, I got 
 safe back to Florence, where I was received with as much affection as if I had returned to 
 my native country. There I stopped as many months as I had done before, except that I 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. ix 
 
 i, 
 
 made an excursion for a few days to Lucca ; and crossing the Apennines, passed through 
 Bologna and Ferrara to Venice. After I had spent a month in surveying the curiosities of 
 this city, and had put on board a ship the books which I had collected in Italy, I proceed- 
 ed through Verona and Milan, and along the Leman lake to Geneva. The mention of this 
 city brings to my recollection the slandering More, and makes me again call the Deity to 
 witness, that in all those places, in which vice meets with so little discouragement, and is 
 practised with so little shame, I never once deviated from the paths of integrity and virtue, 
 and perpetually reflected that, though my conduct might escape the notice of men, it could 
 not elude the inspection of God. At Geneva I held daily conferences with John Deodati, 
 the learned Professor of Theology. Then pursuing my former route through France, I 
 returned to my native country, after an absence of one year and about three months ; at 
 the time when Charles, having broken the peace, was renewing what is called the episcopal 
 war with the Scots; in which the royalists being routed in the first encounter, and the 
 English being universally and justly disaffected, the necessity of his affairs at last obliged 
 him to convene a parliament. As soon as I was able, I hired a spacious house in the city 
 for myself and my books ; where I again with rapture renewed my literary pursuits, and 
 where I calmly awaited the issue of the contest, which I trusted to the wise conduct of 
 Providence, and to the courage of the people. The vigour of the parliament had begun to 
 humble the pride of the bishops. As long as the liberty of speech was no longer subject to 
 controul, all mouths began to be opened against the bishops; some complained of the vices 
 of the individuals, others of those of the order. They said that it was imjust that they alone 
 should differ from the model of other reformed churches; that the government of the 
 church should be according to the pattern of other churches, and particularly the word of 
 God. This awakened all my attention and my zeal — I saw that a way was opening for 
 the establishment of real liberty ; that the foundation was laying for the deliverance of 
 man from the yoke of slavery and superstition ; that the principles of religion, which were 
 the first objects of our care, would exert a salutary influence on the manners and constitu- 
 tion of the republic ; and as I had from my youth studied the distinctions between religious 
 and civil rights, I perceived that if I ever wished to be of use, 1 ought at least not to be 
 wanting to my country, to the church, and to so many of my fellow Christians, in a crisis 
 of so much danger ; I therefore determined to relinquish the other pursuits in which I was 
 engaged, and to transfer the whole force of my talents and my industry to this one impor- 
 tant object. I accordingly WTote two books to a friend concerning the reformation of the 
 church of England." The noble sacrifice was made — the bard became a patriot. 
 
 In the year 1641 appeared his first controversial production, the precise object of which 
 is sufliciently set forth in the title — " Of Reformation in England, and the Causes that 
 hitherto have hindered it, — written to a Friend." Our author, it will be remembered, had 
 already attacked prelacy, in his Lycidas ; and his hatred of their yoke had not abated in the 
 course of the four years which elapsed between that poem and this work. We shall touch 
 with a light hand the topics of these two books, — which are hardly surpassed in interest 
 and excellence by any of their successors. The exordium of the first of these, full of 
 " deep and retired thoughts," sternly, and even ruggedly, but devoutly expressed, charac- 
 terizing, with some abrupt intermixtures of style, but with great power, the origin and 
 increase of ecclesiastical pravity, concludes with a passage which is in itself an achieve- 
 ment, and perhaps equal to any that ever fell from his pen, describing the outbreak of 
 the Reformation. 
 
 " But to dwell no longer in characterizing the depravities of the church, and how they 
 sprung, and how they took increase ; when I recall to mind at last, after so many dark ages, 
 wherein the huge overshadowing train of error had almost swept all the stars out of the 
 firmament of the church ; how the bright and blissful Reformation (by divine power) strook 
 
^11 
 
 X INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 through the black and settled night of ignorance and aiitichristian tyranny, methinks a 
 sovereif^i and reviving joy must needs rush into the bosom of him that reads or hears; and 
 the sweet odour of the returning gospel imbathe his soul with the fragrancy of heaven. 
 Then was the sacred Bible sought out of the dusty comers where profane falsehood and 
 neglect had thrown it, the schools opened, divine and human learning raked out of the 
 erbbers of forgotten tongues, the princes and cities trooping apace to the new-erected ban- 
 ner of salvation ; the martyrs, with the unresistible might of weakness, shaking the powers 
 of darkness, and scorning the fiery rage of the old red dragon." 
 
 Proceeding then to the question, he enumerates the hinderances to reformation " in our 
 forefathers' days, among ourselves," in English protestants, — not in Providence, not in 
 papistical machinations, — which had been in operation since the glorious event of the Re- 
 formation. These impediments he reduces to two, — our retaining of ceremonies, and con- 
 fining the power of ordination to diocesan bishops, exclusively of church members. *' Our 
 ceremonies are senseless in themselves, and serve for nothing but either to facilitate our 
 return to popery, or to hide the defects of better knowledge, and to set off the pomp of 
 j)relacy." Mingled with this dry deduction from our history, of the causes that " hindered 
 the fonvarding of true discipline " — (in which he runs over the times of Henry VIII,, his 
 character, and the conduct of the bishops, with the six " bloody articles," or as Selden calls 
 them, the six-stringed whip, — the times of Edward VI., his infancy, the tumults that arose 
 on repealing the six articles, the intrigues of the bishops, and the Northumberland plot, — 
 the commission to frame ecclesiastical constitutions, — the times of Elizabeth, when 
 Edward VI.'s constitutions were established, — show^ing the unwieldiness of these times, 
 and the impossibility of effecting " exact reformation at one push") — the reader will meet 
 with such declamation against the whole body and function of prelacy, as would be 
 infallibly successful if pronounced before any modem auditory. 
 
 The hinderers of reformation in his ow7i times are " distinguished " into three sorts : — 
 1. Antiquitarians (not Antiquarians, he says, whose labours are useful and laudable). 2. 
 Libertines. 3. Politicians. Under the first head, the Antiquitarians will find established 
 the difference between our bishops and those of purer times, in their election by the hands 
 of the whole church for 400 years after Christ, and that in dignity they were only equal to 
 their co-presbyters. Whether antiquity favours modem episcopacy or not, it is shown, 
 1. That the best times were spreadingly infected; 2. That the best men of those times 
 were foully tainted ; and 3. That the best writings of those men were dangerously adulte- 
 rated. This threefold corruption is proved at large, and most successfully. It seems that 
 even so early as 1641, when in his 33rd year, he was not merely a puritan, but a dissenter 
 from the principle of our establishment ; for in anticipating an objection on the ground of 
 drawing the proof of his propositions from the practice of ages before Constanline's time, and 
 the alliance between the temporal and spiritual power, he says, " I am not of opinion to 
 think the church a vine in this respect, because, as they take it, she cannot subsist without 
 clasping about the elm of worldly strength and felicity, as if the heavenly city could not 
 support itself without the props and buttresses of secular authority." His object, however, 
 was reformation, not subversion, and therefore he did not carry this principle out. The 
 character and conduct of Constantine are examined, and Dante, Petrarch, and Ariosto, are 
 quoted, to show, that it may be concluded for a received opinion, even among men profess- 
 ing the Romish church, " that Constantine marred the church." The last topic in which 
 he deals with the antiquitarian at his own weapon, respects the estimation which the an- 
 cients of the purer times had of antiquity ; and he demonstrates with great leaming, that they 
 acknowledge the all-sufficiency of the Scriptures, and refer all decision of controversy, whether 
 in doctrine or discipline, to them. Paragraphs of amazing energy and incomparable beauty 
 will be found under tliis head, and we may well exclaim with the writer, " Now, sir, for the 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xi 
 
 love of holy reformation, what can be said more against these importunate clients of anti- 
 quity, than she herself, their patroness, hath said ?" He exposes the drift of those who call 
 for antiquity : — " they fear the plain field of the Scriptures ; the chase is too hot; they seek 
 the dark, the bushy, the tangled forest ; they would imbosk : they feel themselves strook in 
 the transparent streams of divine truth ; they would plunge, and tumble, and think to lie 
 hid in the foul weeds and muddy waters, where no plummet can reach the bottom. But 
 let them beat themselves like whales, and spend their oil till they be dragged ashore : 
 though wherefore should the ministers give them so much line for shifts and delays } where- 
 fore should they not urge only the gospel, and hold it ever in their faces like a mirror of 
 diamond, till it dazzle and pierce their misty eyeballs .? maintaining it the honour of its 
 absolute sufficiency and supremacy inviolable." 
 
 The Libertines, the second class of hinderers, as they would object to all discipline, — " the 
 dear and tender discipline of a father, the sociable and loving reproof of a brother, the 
 bosom admonition of a friend," — he leaves them with the merry friar in Chaucer, and refers 
 ihe political discourse of episcopacy to a second book, which we will proceed to examine. 
 
 It is throughout one strain of wisdom and eloquence. In it we shall find set forth the evils 
 ^\ hich compel subjects to chastise rulers. The springs of a series of past and approaching 
 disasters to church and king, and people, are laid bare. The wisdom of the sage and the 
 poet is uj)on him. If ever the noble language of Cowper, his warmest admirer, were appli- 
 cable to humanity, it is to our author. — 
 
 A terrible sagacity informs 
 The poet's heart. 
 
 The introductory remarks upon the art of governing and ruling nations, and its general 
 perversion in Christian commonwealths, will well repay the attention of our countrymen 
 at the present time ; and the principles throughout this book, by which he tries the third 
 and last hinderers of reformation, namely, the Politicians, who assert that it stands not with 
 " reasons of state," are not affected by the lapse of centuries, and though intended for the 
 right reverend fathers in God, the bishops, will apply as well now as heretofore, both to 
 them, and to every thing else that requires reform. " Alas, sir ! a commonwealth ought to 
 l)e but as one huge Christian personage, one mighty growth and stature of an honest man, 
 as big and compact in virtue as in body ; for look what the grounds and causes are of single 
 happiness to one man, the same ye shall find them to a whole state, as Aristotle, both in 
 his Ethics and Politics, from the principles of reason, lays down : by consequence, there- 
 fore, that which is good and agreeable to monarchy, will appear soonest to be so, by being 
 good and agreeable to the true welfare of every Christian ; and that which can be justly 
 proved hurtful and offensive to every true Christian, will be evinced to be alike hurtful to 
 monarchy : for God forbid that we should separate and distinguish the end and good of a 
 monarch from the end and good of the monarchy, or of that, from Christianity. How then 
 this third and last sort that hinder reformation, will justify that it stands not with reason 
 of state, I much muse ; for certain I am, the Bible is shut against them, as certain that 
 neither Plato nor Aristotle is for their turns." 
 
 The schools of Loyola, with his Jesuits, are then summoned into the field ; and out of 
 them, the " Politicians " allege, 1. That the church-government must be conformable to the 
 civil polity ; next. That no form of church -government is agreeable to monarchy, but that 
 of bishops. The first objection is annihilated in a single paragraph, which it would be well 
 for the peace of the countrj^, for our statesmen, who have ever so much at heart the honour 
 of the church, to take note of. The second falls to pieces naturally, the first being confuted. 
 Yet " to give them, " says our author," play, front and rear, it shall be my task to prove, that 
 episcopacy, with that authority which it challenges in England, is not only not agreeable, 
 
xii INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 but tending to the destruction of monarchy." He accordingly deduces the history of it 
 down from its original, and amply shows what Prynne calls " the antipathic of the Englisl 
 lordly prelacie, both to regal monarchy and civil unity." The title of one of poor Prynne'a 
 works, published in the same year as this of Milton's, runs out into an indictment. — Ii 
 addition to what we have above, he entitles his work, " An historical collection of severs 
 execrable treasons, conspiracies, rebellions, seditions, state-schisms, contumacies, anti- 
 monarchical practices, and oppressions, of our English, British, French, Scottish, and IrisI 
 lordly. prelates, against our kingdoms, laws, liberties; and of the several warres, and civil 
 dissensions, occasioned by them in or against our realm, in former and latter ages. Togetherl 
 with the judgment of our own ancient writers, and most judicious authors, touching the] 
 pretended divine jurisdiction, the calling, lordliness, temporalities, wealth, secular employ-i 
 ments, trayterous practices, unprofitablenesse, and mischievousnesse of lordly prelates, both 
 to king, state, church ; with an answer to the chief objections made for the divinity or 
 continuance of their lordly function." The cry of " no bishop, no king," which we still 
 hear, was a " fetch " from the Jesuits. " They feeling the axe of God's reformation, hew- 
 ing at the old and hollow trunk of papacy, and finding the Spaniard their surest friend and 
 safest refuge, to soothe him up in his dream of a fifth monarchy, and withal to uphold the 
 decrepid papalty, have invented this superpolitic aphorism, as one terms it, one pope and 
 one king." It is plain, that this worthy motto " no bishop, no king," " is of the same 
 batch, and infanted out of the same fears." — " But " (the following passage does not dis- 
 cover a republican leaning) " what greater debasement can there be to royal dignity, whose 
 towering and stedfast height rests upon the unmoveable foundations of justice and heroic 
 virtue, than to chain it in a dependance of subsisting or ruining, to the painted battlements 
 and gaudy rottenness of prelaty, which want but one puff of the king's to blow them down 
 like a pasteboard house built of court-cards ?" After the gentle digression, which he calls a 
 tale, (and it is one of the " curiosities of literature,") he returns to this important subject, and 
 argues it out in terrible earnest. The throne of a king being established, as Solomon says, in 
 justice, he maintains that " the fall of prelacy, whose actions are so far distant from justice, 
 cannot shake the least fringe that borders the royal canopy " — and three reasons are adduced 
 from the many secondary and accessory causes, that support monarchy, and all other states, * ' to 
 wit, the love of the subject, the multitude and valour of the people, and store of treasure," to 
 show tliat the standing of this order is dangerous to regal safety. The whole nation, as the 
 innumerable and grievous complaints of every shire cried out, was a willing witness under each 
 of these heads, and our author thunders into the ears of prelates and king, what all the people 
 were panting to have uttered. Each topic becomes a formidable redoubt of argument and 
 declamation, and each paragraph is worthy of attention. Every page, as we approach the close 
 of the work, thickens with interest, and is crowded with all the burning rays of the most im- 
 passioned oratory. The apostrophe to England is at once affecting and sublime. He runs 
 over the remainder of his task with such extreme rapidity, sentence after sentence, pealing 
 like thunder, smiting like lightning, driving like a whirlwind, against the proud tops of the 
 lordly hierarchy, that we must fain give up the task we had undertaken into the hands of 
 the reader. The reference to the drift of the " bishop's war " (as one of their own order 
 called it) with Scotland, is tremendous, — " to make a national war of a surplice-brabble, a 
 tippet-scuffle, and engage the untainted honour of English knighthood, to unfurl the stream- 
 ing red-cross, or to rear the horrid standard of those fatal guly dragons, for so unworthy a 
 purpose as to force upon their fellow-subjects that which themselves are weary of, the skeleton 
 of a mass book." — And the exhortation to England and Scotland to pursue their begun contest 
 for liberty together, is an admonitory conclusion worthy of this magnificent page. On the 
 high and holy ground of discipline he calls for immediate reformation, and after placing this 
 point in a variety of lights, and surrounding it with a vast assemblage of argument, and 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xiii 
 
 answeiing the objections of the bit by bit reformers of those days, the piece closes in a 
 peroration in the form of a prayer, piously laying the sad condition of England before the 
 greatest of beings, than which there is not a more sublime patriotic ode in any language. 
 We insert the prayer, not merely to save the trouble of reference, but to excite the curiosity 
 of those who are unacquainted with these works, when it is not gratified by drawing at once, 
 as in this instance, upon our author. We omit the anathema, with which the petition con- 
 cludes, — it is a curse which Walter Scott could have extended to three volumes. 
 
 " Thou, therefore, that sittest in light and glory unapproachable, Parent of angels and 
 men ! next, thee I implore, omnipotent King, Redeemer of that lost remnant whose 
 nature thou didst assume, ineffable and everlasting Love ! and thou, the third subsistence 
 of divine infinitude, illumining Spirit, the joy and solace of created things ! one Triper- 
 sonal Godhead ! look upon this thy poor and almost spent and expiring church, leave her 
 not thus a prey to these importunate wolves, that wait and think long till they devour thy 
 tender flock ; these wild boars that have broken into thy vineyard, and left the print of their 
 polluting hoofs on the souls of thy servants. O let them not bring about their damned 
 designs, that stand now at the entrance of the bottomless pit, expecting the watchword to 
 open and let out those dreadful locusts and scorpions, to reinvolve us in that pitchy cloud 
 of infernal darkness, where we shall never more see the sun of thy truth again, never hope 
 for the cheerful dawn, never more hear the bird of morning sing. Be moved with pity at 
 the afl[licted state of this our shaken monarchy, that now lies labouring under her throes, 
 and struggling against the grudges of more dreadful calamities. 
 
 " O thou, that, after the impetuous rage of five bloody inundations, and the succeeding sword 
 of intestine war, soaking the land in her own gore, didst pity the sad and ceaseless revolu- 
 tion of our swift and thick-coming sorrows ; when we were quite breathless, of thy free 
 grace didst motion peace, and terms of covenant with us ; and having first well-nigh freed 
 us from antichristian thraldom, didst build up this Britannic empire to a glorious and 
 enviable height, with all her daughter-islands about her; stay us in this felicity, let not the 
 obstinacy of our half-obedience and will-worship bring forth that viper of sedition, that for 
 these fourscore years has been breeding to eat through the entrails of our peace ; but let her 
 cast her abortive spawn witliout the danger of this travailing and throbbing kingdom : that 
 we may still remember in our solemn thanksgivings, how for us, the northern ocean even to 
 the fi:o2en Thulc was scattered with the j^roud shipwTCcks of the Spanish armada, and the 
 very maw of hell ransacked, and made to give up her concealed destruction, ere she could 
 vent it in that horrible and damned blast. 
 
 " O how much more glorious will those former deliverances appear, when v/e shall know 
 them not only to have saved us from greatest miseries past, but have reserved us for greatest 
 happiness to come ! Hitherto thou hast but freed us, and that not fully, from the unjust and 
 tyrannous claim of thy foes ; now unite us entirely, and appropriate us to thyself, tie us ever- 
 lastingly in willing homage to the prerogative of thy eternal throne. 
 
 '* And now we know, O thou our most certain hope and defence, that thine enemies have 
 been consulting all the sorceries of the great whore, and have joined their plots with that 
 sad intelligencing tyrant that mischiefs the world with his mines of Ophir, and lies thirsting 
 to revenge his naval ruins that have larded our seas : but let them all take counsel together, 
 and let it come to nought ; let them decree, and do thou cancel it ; let them gather them- 
 selves, and be scattered ; let them embattle themselves, and be broken ; let them embattle, 
 and be broken, for thou art with us. 
 
 " Then amidst the hymns and hallelujahs of saints, some one may perhaps be heard offer- 
 ing at high strains in new and lofty measures, to sing and celebrate thy divine mercies and 
 marvellous judgments in this land throughout all ages ; whereby this great and warlike 
 nation, instructed and inured to the fervent and continual practice of truth and righteousness. 
 
xiv INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 and casting far from her the rags of her old vice^roay press on hard to that^gh and 
 happy emulation to be fonnd the soberest, wisest, and most Christian people at that day, 
 when thou, the etenial and shortly-expected King, shalt open the clouds to judge the seve- 
 ral kingdoms of this world, and distributing national honours and rewards to religious and 
 just commonwealths, shalt put an end to all earthly tyrannies, proclaiming thy universal and 
 mild monarchy through heaven and earth ; where they, undoubtedly, that by their labours, 
 counsels, and prayers, have been earnest for the common good of religion and their coun- 
 try, shall receive above the inferior orders of the blessed, the regal addition of principalities, 
 legions, and thrones into their glorious titles, and in supereminence of beatific vision, pro- 
 gressing the dateless and irrevoluble circle of eternity, shall clasp inseparable hands witli 
 joy and bliss, in overmeasure for ever." 
 
 To this and other attacks from puritan pens, bishop Hall, and, about the same time, 
 archbishop Usher, replied ; the former in " An humble Remonstrance to the high court of 
 Parliament," and the latter in the " Apostolical Institution of Episcopacy." Milton's 
 answers to these very learned and able works were produced in the same year. 
 
 To continue our extracts from the Second Defence : — " Afterwards," (that is, after the first 
 pamphlet,) " when two bishops of superior distinction vindicated their privileges against some 
 principal ministers, I thought that on those topics, to the consideration of which I was led 
 solely by my love of truth, and my reverence for Christianity, I should not probably \mte 
 worse than those, who were contending only for their own emoluments and usurpations. I 
 therefore answered the one in two books, of which the first is inscribed. Concerning 
 Prelatical Episcopacy, and the other Concerning the Mode of Ecclesiastical Government ; 
 and I replied to the other in some Animadversions, and soon after in an Apology." 
 
 It is not too much to say that Milton was a match for the learned Usher at his own 
 weapons, and his superior in other respects. The first of the replies, so far from justifying 
 Dr. Johnson's snarl, is a model in style, of simplicity and moderation, and in argument, of 
 logic and sound learning. The archbishop's forte lay in his erudition, and here he was one 
 of the strongest men of his time ; but his discomfiture is complete, when his adversary 
 carries the controversy before a higher tribunal than that of antiquity. The insufficiency, 
 inconveniency, and impiety of quoting the fathers and excluding the apostles, — the 
 method adopted by the episcopalians (as formerly by the papists) to establish any parts of 
 Christianity, — is plainly, strongly, and fully shown. " Whatsoever," says our author, " either 
 time or the heedless hand of blind chance, has drawn down to this present in her huge 
 drag-net, whether fish or sea-weed, shells or shrubs, unpicked and unchosen, those are the 
 fathers." And so he chides the good prelate for divulging useless treatises, stuffed with 
 the specious names of Ignatius and Polycarpus, v^dth fragments of old martyrologies, to 
 distract and stagger the multitude of credulous readers. The piece is highly worthy of 
 penisal, as an exposure of the claims of tradition. It is a complete dispersion of antiquity's 
 " cloud, or rather petty fog, of witnesses." 
 
 The other performance, entitled " The Reason of Church-Government urged against 
 Prelaty," and principally intended against the same archbishop's account of the original of 
 episcopacy, is in every point of view a valuable and powerful production. It is comprised 
 in two Books. In the Preface, (frequently the most interesting portion of his works,) after 
 stating the importance of the subject of church-government, and after referring to the ques- 
 tion, or rather uproar, concerning it, he expresses a hope that England will belong neither to 
 see-patriarchal, nor to see-prelatical, but to that ministerial order of presbyters and deacons, 
 which the apostles instituted. There are seven chapters in this Book, of which we shall gi\ 
 the titles, merely premising that there is more in each than meets the eye ; but they are so 
 compactly and logically arranged, that any attempt to present the reader with an outline of 
 them, without injuring their cumulative force, would be impossible. In chap. I. it is main- 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xf 
 
 lained, That church government is prescribed in the gospel, and that to say otherwise is 
 unsound. In ch. II. That church government is set down in Holy Scripture, and that to 
 say otherwise is untrue. In ch. III. That it is dangerous and unworthy of the gospel to 
 hold that church government is to be patterned by the law, as bishop Andrews and the 
 primate of Armagh maintain. In ch. IV. That it is impossible to make the priesthood of 
 Aaron a pattern whereon to ground episcopacy. In ch. V. we have a reply to the argu- 
 ments of bishop Andrews and the primate. In ch. VI. That prelaty was not set up for 
 prevention of schism, as is pretended ; or if it were, it performs not what it was first set 
 up for, but quite the contrary. In ch, VII. That those many sects and schisms by some 
 supposed to be among us, and that the rebellion in Ireland, ought not to be a hinderance, 
 but a hastening, of reformation. In proof of our assertion, that there is more in each chap- 
 ter than the title would appear to warrant us to expect, take these few sentences from the 
 first section, on the importance of " discipline." " What need I instance } He that hath 
 read with judgment, of nations and commonwealths, of cities and camps, of peace and war, 
 sea and land, will readily agree that the flourishing and decaying of all civil societies, all 
 the moments and turnings of human occasions, are moved to and fro as upon the axle of 
 discipline. So that whatsoever power or sway in mortal things weaker men have attributed 
 to fortune, I durst with more confidence (the honour of Divine Providence ever saved) 
 ascribe either to the vigour or the slackness of discipline. Nor is there any sociable per- 
 fection in this life, civil or sacred, that can be above discipline ; but she is that which with 
 her musical cords preserves and holds all the parts thereof together. And certainly disci- 
 pline is not only the removal of disorder ; but if any visible shape can be given to divine 
 things, the very visible shape and image of virtue, whereby she is not only seen in the 
 regular gestures and motions of her heavenly paces as she walks, but also makes the har- 
 mony of her voice audible to mortal ears. Yea, the angels themselves, in whom no disorder 
 is feared, as the apostle that saw them in his rapture describes, are distinguished and 
 quatemioned into their celestial princedoms and satrapies, according as God himself has 
 writ his imperial decrees through the great provinces of heaven. The state also of the 
 blessed in paradise, though never so perfect, is not therefore left without discipline, whose 
 golden surveying reed marks out and measures ever}- quarter and circuit of New Jerusalem. 
 Yet is it not to be conceived, that those eternal efiluences of sanctity and love in the glori- 
 fied saints should by this means be confined and cloyed with repetition of that which is 
 prescribed, but that our happiness may orb itself into a thousand vagancies of glory and 
 delight, and \a ith a kind of eccentrical equation be, as it were, an invariable planet of joy 
 and felicity ; how much less can we believe that God would leave his frail and feeble, though 
 not less beloved church here below, to the perpetual stumble of conjecture and disturbance 
 in this our dark voyage, without the card and compass of discipline !" 
 
 There are numerous passages, rising like this, naturally, out of the subject, not throwTi in 
 for the sake of ornament, in each of these seven chapters of the 1st Book, every whit equal 
 to this, and of every sort and variety of eloquence. Milton's flights into the regions of imagery 
 are never taken either for the sake of display, or to escape firom the pressure of an argument. 
 He is never in the air when he should be on the ground. He resorts to the wings of rhe- 
 toric, fi-om the firm summit of a vast pile of argumentation, and though for awhile he may 
 be lost in the solar blaze, he soon comes down with " fell swoop " to his quarry. The 
 2nd Book consists of a preface, three chapters, and a conclusion. Awe-stricken yet are we 
 in perusing the preface to this 2nd Book. More or less than man he must be who can 
 read it without emotion. It is throughout magnificent, — a glimpse into the heart and soul 
 of Milton. He opens his bosom — he discourses with his conscience in our presence. He 
 discloses his convictions of duty, and discovers his confidence of rectitude. He divulges 
 
 his lofty hopes, springing out of his patriotism and his piety. Here we have that remarkable 
 
 b 
 
XTi INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 " covenant with the knowing reader," to attempt ere lou^ some poetical work, which his 
 countrjmen would not " let die." The noble promise is a pledge for the greatest perform- 
 ance. His aspirations amount to positive faith : Paradise Lost is seen at the end of the 
 radiant vista. Tliis exordium is too long to extract entire : any fragmentary anticipation 
 of it would spoil the whole. The electrical shock which follows invariaV^ly the voice of true 
 eloquence, and proves incontestahly its power and presence, admonishes us to point, in this 
 instance, the reader's attention to the exordium at once, and in silence. It is " a sevenfold 
 chorus of hallelujahs and harjiing symphonies." 
 
 In the 1st chapter of the 2nd book, the author maintains that prelaty opposes the reason 
 and end of the gospel in three ways, and first in her outward form. " Who is there that 
 measures wisdom by simplicity, strength by suffering, dignity by lowliness ? Who is there 
 that counts it first to be last, something to be nothing, and reckons himself of great command 
 in that he is a servant? Yet God, when he meant to subdue the world and hell at once, part 
 of that to salvation, and this wholly to perdition, made choice of no other weapons or auxili- 
 aries than these, whether to save or to destroy. It had been a small mastery for him to 
 have drawn out his legions into array, and flanked them with his thunder ; therefore he sent 
 foolishness to confute wisdom, weakness to bind strength, despisedness to vanquish pride." 
 
 In the 2nd chapter it is maintained, that the ceremonious doctrine of prelaty opposeth 
 the reason and end of the gospel. 
 
 In the 3rd chapter, the thesis is, That prelatical jurisdiction opposeth the reason and end 
 of the gospel and state. The political reasons agamst this obnoxious form of church - 
 government will probably be most interesting to the majority of his readers. There is an 
 evident leaning to independency in all of the preceding works. 
 
 Bishop Hall, or his son, or nephew, more witty than wise, having published " a Defence 
 of the Humble Remonstrance," Milton's next work was " Animadversions" upon it. The 
 preface apologizes for that harshness of style which he felt justified in adopting. This he 
 does to satisfy tender consciences, who might shrink from the employment of such a weapon 
 as satire in such a cause. The point is enlarged upon in the preface to the next work. In 
 " uncasing the grand imposture," he copes with his adversary, sentence by sentence, and 
 thus vindicates truth by taking the sophist short " at the first bound." It is one of the 
 pleasantest of the theological tracts ; nor is it, although a tragi-comic dialogue between un- 
 equal competitors, less subtle or profound than any of its predecessors. We may refer to the 
 answer to the Remonstrant's assertion in the 4th section, as one of the most splendid passages 
 ever penned. The topic itself was a hackneyed one, even in those days, but they who are 
 acquainted with these writings, know full well, that however unpromising a subject may 
 appear to be, it is best to see what is made of it, lest by overlooking it we miss some of the 
 finest things in the language. We give the conclusion of the beautiful prayer, or rather prayer- 
 ode, with which the section closes. " Come therefore, O thou that hast the seven stars in 
 thy right hand, appoint thy chosen priests according to their orders and courses of old, to 
 minister before thee, and duly to press and pour out the consecrated oil into thy holy and 
 ever-burning lamps. Thou hast sent out the spirit of prayer upon thy servants over all the 
 land to this effect, and stirred up their vows as the sound of many waters about thy throne. 
 Every one can say, that now certainly thou hast visited this land, and hast not forgotten the 
 utmost comers of the earth, in a time when men had thought that thou~wast gone up from 
 us to the farthest end of the heavens, and hadst left to do marvellously among the sons of 
 these last ages. O perfect and accomplish thy glorious act ! for men may leave their works 
 unfinished, but thou art a God, thy nature is perfection : shouldst thou bring us thus far on 
 from Egypt to destroy us in this wilderness, though we deserve ; yet thy great name would 
 suffer in the rejoicing of thine enemies, and the deluded hope of all thy servants. When 
 thou hast settled peace in the church, and righteous judgment in thy kingdom, then shall 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. - xvii 
 
 all thy saints address their voices of joy and triumph to thee, standing on the shore of that 
 Red sea into which our enemies had almost driven us. And he that now for haste snatches 
 up a plain ungamished present as a thank-offering to thee, which could not be deferred, in 
 regard of thy so many late deliverances wrought for us one upon another, may then perhaps 
 take up a harp, and sing thee an elaborate song to generations. In that day it shall no 
 more be said as in scorn, this or that was never held so till this present age, when men 
 have better learnt that the times and seasons pass along under thy feet, to go and come at 
 thy bidding ; and as thou didst dignify our fathers' days with many revelations above all the 
 foregoing ages, since thou tookest the flesh ; so thou canst vouchsafe unto us (though un- 
 worthy) as large a portion of thy Spirit as thou pleasest : for who shall prejudice thy all- 
 governing will ? seeing the power of thy grace is not passed away with the primitive times, 
 as fond and faithless men imagine, but thy kingdom is now at hand, and thou standing at 
 the door. Come forth out of thy royal chambers, O Prince of all the kings of the earth ! 
 put on the visible robes of thy imperial majesty, take up that unlimited sceptre which thy 
 Almighty Father hath bequeathed thee ; for now the voice of thy bride calls thee, and all 
 creatures sigh to be renewed." 
 
 The next section, containing the law case, is perhaps next also in excellence. The ser- 
 mons are always better than the texts ; and when it is recollected that this is the third work 
 on the same subject in one year, its perusal may well excite our wonder. 
 
 Next year his last work on the puritan side of the controversy came out, " An Apology 
 for Smectymnuus," in reply to bishop Hall or his son's " Modest Confutation against a 
 scandalous and seditious Libel." The bishop's personalities may have quickened as they 
 certainly sharpened the movements of his pen, and hastened this publication, in which he 
 justifies at large the style and manner of his prior work ; and after making his reader merry 
 at the expense of his modest opponent's title, proceeds to vindicate his own character, and 
 furnish us with an eloquent and interesting account of himself, his education, studies, and 
 pursuits. We refer those who, though on our author's side, dislike his " honest way of 
 writing," to the first section in this tract for a most interesting digression on style. He 
 well knew what he was about when he poured his overwhelming sarcasms on his assailants. 
 It was as much out of his power to alter or soften the style in which he wrote, and for 
 which he has been insolently abused, as to " dissolve the ground work of nature, which 
 God created in him." A regard to truth, the relief of his *' burden," the full reflection of his 
 very soul, whatever might be the state of its emotions on his friends or his foes, rendered it 
 impossible for him to divest himself of it. We will quote a passage from the section we 
 refer to. 
 
 " In times of opposition, when either against new heresies arising, or old corruptions to 
 be reformed, this cool unpassioned mildness of positive wisdom is not enough to damp and 
 astonish the proud resistance of canial and false doctors, then (that I may have leave to soar 
 awhile as the poets use) Zeal, whose substance is ethereal, arming in complete diamond, 
 ascends his fiery chariot drawn with two blazing meteors, figured like beasts, but of a 
 higher breed than any the zodiac yields, resembling two of those four which Ezekiel and 
 St. John saw ; the one visaged like a lion, to express power, high authority, and indigna- 
 tion ; the other of countenance like a man, to cast derision and scorn upon perverse and 
 fraudulent seducers : with these the invincible warrior. Zeal, shaking loosely the slack 
 reins, drives over the heads of scarlet prelates, and such as are insolent to maintain traditions, 
 bruising their stiff necks under his flaming wheels." 
 
 The most splendid part of the performance, is the eulogy on the Long Parliament ; but 
 he is always instinctive, and most so when he leaves his menyman of the text, and strikes 
 out into incidental or collateral topics. He is very severe upon the clergy, not only because 
 their principles were in his opinion dangerous, and their practice disgraceful, but his usage 
 
XTiii INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 at their hands was barbarous. — What can be more so than this serious saying of old or 
 young Hall, — ** You that love Christ, and know this miscreant wretch, stone him to death, 
 lest you smart for his impunity." This is the language of a bishop, or of his son, but is it 
 that of a Christian ? Milton's spirit was a perfect contrast to Hall's. " In liis whole life 
 he never spake against a man even that his skin should be grazed." Hall's murderous 
 advice is certainly of a piece with that pious prayer which is recorded in his Memoranda 
 of his own Life, concerning the subtle and wily atheist, that had so grievously perplexed 
 and gravelled him at Sir Robert Drury's, till he prayed the Lord to remove him, and his 
 prayers were heard ; for shortly after the atheist went to London, and there perished of the 
 plague in great miserj-. But what can be expected from a man who in one of his epistles 
 dares to assert that " separation from the church of England is worse than whoredom or I 
 drunkenness ? " The formularies of the church as by law established, are examined in the 
 11th section, and severely exposed. Being taxed by his adversary with a want of ac- 
 quaintance witli the councils and fathers of the church, we have in the 12th section a re- ] 
 markable account of his reading in, and of his opinion of, them, which concludes by 
 advising his readers not to be deceived " by men that would overawe your ears with big 
 names and huge tomes, that contradict and repeal one another, because they can cram a 
 margin with citations. Do but winnow their chaff from their wheat, ye shall see their great 
 heap shrink and wax thin past belief." We have a remarkable testimony to the character 
 of the nonconformists. " We hear not of any, which are called nonconformists, that have 
 been accused of scandalous living ; but are known to be pious, or at least sober, men." | 
 After answering a few more impertinent points, his adversary having said that he had met * 
 with " such a volley of expressions, as he would never desire to have them better clothed." 
 — " For me, readers," says the ingenuous apologist, '* I cannot say that I am utterly un- 
 trained in those rules which best rhetoricians have given, or unacquainted with those ex- 
 amples which the prime authors of eloquence have written in any learned tongue ; yet true 
 eloquence I find to be none, but the serious and hearty love of truth : and that whose mind 
 soever is fully possessed with a fervent desire to know good things, and with the dearest 
 charity to infuse the knowledge of them into others, when such a man would speak, his 
 words (by what I can express) like so many nimble and airy servitors trip about him at 
 command, and in well-ordered files, as he would wish, fall aptly in their own places." The 
 remainder of this discourse is devoted to the fiirther castigation of his adversary, recom- 
 mends the total removal of prelaty, the due distribution of chm"ch property, and predicts 
 that when their coffers are emptied their voices will be dumb. This is the last time he 
 drew his pen for the presbyterians, — or rather, not so much for presbyterianism, as for , 
 liberty ; and in her behalf we shall soon find that he had to wage war against his former 1 
 allies, whose recreant steps led them at last to fight against her under the prclatical 
 banner. The bishops fell, and Milton went on, and took no more notice of them, except 
 in conjunction with the puritan apostates, whose perilous battle he fought, and whose 
 victory was soon abused. 
 
 He thus refers to these works in his narrative, — " On this occasion it was supposed that 
 I brought a timely succour to the ministers, who were hardly a match for the eloquence of 
 their opponents ; and from that time I was actively employed in refuting any answers that 
 appeared. When the bishops could no longer resist the multitude of their assailants, I had 
 leisure to tiun my thoughts to other subjects ; to the promotion of real and substantial liberty ; 
 which is rather to be sought from within than fi-om without; and whose existence depends 
 not so much on the terror of the sword, as on sobriety of conduct, and integrity of life. 
 When therefore I perceived that there were three species of hberty, which are essential to the 
 happiness of social life ; religious, domestic, and civil ; and as I had already written con- 
 cerning the first, and the magistrates were strenuously active concerning the third, I de- 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xix 
 
 termined to turn my attention to the second, or the domestic species. As this seemed to 
 involve three material questions, the condition of the conjugal tie, the education of children, 
 and the free publication of thought, I made them objects of distinct consideration." 
 
 We now come to his Four Treatises on the subject of Marriage and Divorce. The cir- 
 cumstances of his marriage are well known. Its imprudence is astonishing, but it is less 
 so to find that his wife's wanton outrage should have been the occasion of these extraordi- 
 nary productions. It is true they originated in his own misfortune, yet in such times there 
 must have been numbers in the same predicament with himself; and his honest pleadings 
 on behalf of domestic liberty, were perhaps as seasonable, as they are, whatever we may 
 think of his principles, undoubtedly eloquent ; and their effect was far from inconsiderable. 
 He evidently regarded them as not the least of his labours on behalf of liberty. 
 
 " I explained my sentiments, not only on the solemnization of the marriage, but the 
 dissolution, if circumstances rendered it necessary ; and I drew my arguments from the 
 divine law, which Christ did not abolish, or publish another more grievous than that of 
 Moses. I stated my own opinions, and those of others, concerning the exclusive exception 
 of fornication, which our illustrious Selden has since, in his Hebrew Wife, more copiously 
 discussed : for he in vain makes a vaunt of liberty in the senate or in the forum who 
 languishes under the vilest senitude to an inferior at home. On this subject therefore I 
 published some books, which were more particularly necessary at that time, when man and 
 wife were often the most inveterate foes, when the man often staid to take care of his chil- 
 dren at home, while the mother of the family was seen in the camp of the enemy, threaten* 
 ing death and destruction to her husband." 
 
 This was his case, — his wife's friends were royalists, and she deserted him only one 
 month after marriage, on the plea of revisiting them. He detennined to repudiate her, and 
 to justify his resolution, published in the year 1C44 his " Doctrine and Discipline of 
 Divorce, restored to the good of both sexes," and dedicated it to the parliament and the 
 Assembly of Divines, in order that, as they were busy about the general reformation of the 
 kingdom, thoy might also take this matter into consideration. " If the wisdom, the justice, 
 the purity of God, be to be cleansed from the foulest iraj)utations, which arc not to be 
 avoided, if charity be not to be degraded, and trodden down under a civil ordinance, if 
 matrimony be not to be advanced like that exalted perdition, * above all that is called 
 God,' or goodness, nay, against them both, tlien I dare affirm, there will be found in the 
 contents of this book that which may concern us all." He declares his object to be to 
 prove, first, That other reasons of divorce besides adultery were, by the law of Moses, and 
 are yet to be, allowed by the christian magistrate, as a piece of justice, and that the words 
 of Christ are not hereby contraried : next, That to prohibit absolutely any divorce what- 
 ever, except those which Moses excepted, is against the reason of law. Tlie grand position 
 is this : That indisposition, unfitness, or contrariety of mind, arising from a cause in nature, 
 unchangeable, hindering, and ever likely to hinder, the main benefits of conjugal society, 
 which arc solace and peace ; is a greater reason of divorce than adultery, or natural 
 frigidity, provided there be a mutual consent for separation. He makes out a strong primd 
 facie case ; but in so nice and difficidt an argument, conducted so learnedly, by so splendid 
 a casuist, and in the due and orderly method of division and subdivision so punctiliously 
 observed in his time, analysis would be both ridiculous and useless. It will be read, 
 were it merely for the sake of quickening and sharpening the mind by its prodigious 
 subtlety and acuteness, as an intellectual exercise; but it will be found much easier to 
 deny his conclusions than to refute his arguments. Never was a greater mass of learning 
 brought to bear upon a point, a mere point, of dispute. The context of the Scriptures, the 
 letter and the spirit, and the scope of e\ ery passage touching the topic in hand, the laws 
 of the first Christian emperors, the opinions of reformers, are adduced, for the purpose of 
 
XX INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 demonstrating that by the laws of God, and by the inferences drawn from them by the most 
 enlightened men, the power of divorce ought not to be rigidly restricted to those causes 
 which render the nuptial state unfruitful, or taint it with a spurious offspring. Regarding 
 mutual support and comfort as the principal objects of this union, he contends that what- 
 ever defrauds it of these ends, vitiates tlie contract, and must necessarily justify the dissolu- 
 tion. " What therefore God hath joined, let no man put asunder." — " But here the Chris- 
 tian prudence lies, to consider what God hath joined. Shall we say that God hath joined 
 error, fraud, unfitness, wrath, contention, perpettial loneliness, perpetual discord ? What- 
 ever lust, or wine, or >\atchery, threat or enticement, avarice or ambition, have joined to- 
 gether, faithful with unfaithful. Christian with anti-christian, hate with hate, or hate with 
 love, shall we say this is God's joining ?" 
 
 This book kindled the fury of the presbyterians ; and the bigots, unmindful of his services 
 in the common cause, attempted to fix the most serious charges on his character, and bring 
 bim under the censure of parliament. He was actually summoned before the house of 1 
 lords, but was honourably dismissed. This was not the way to put John Milton down. The 
 parliament preachers rated at him, and his opponents grew more clamorous. He therefore 
 pubhshed the " Tetrachordon, or Exposition of the four chief places in Scripture which 
 treat of Nullities in Marriage," and dedicated it to parliament; confirming by explanation of 
 Scripture, by testimony of ancient fathers, of civil law in the primitive church, of faraousest 
 protestant divines, and lastly, by an intended act of the parliament and church of England 
 in the last year of Edward IV. the doctrines of his former book. 
 
 The clamour with which this and the preceding work were received by his quondam 
 associates, led to the following sonnets. 
 
 A book was writ of late call'd Tetrachordon, 
 
 And woven close, both matter, form, and style ; 
 
 Tlie subject new : it walked the town awhile, 
 Numb'ring good intellects; now seldom por'd on. 
 Cries the stall reader, Bless us ! what a word on 
 
 A title page is this ! and some in file 
 
 Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile- 
 End Green. Why is it harder, sirs, than Gordon, 
 Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp ? 
 
 Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek. 
 That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp ; 
 
 Thy age, like our's, O soul of Sir John Cheek, 
 Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, 
 
 When thou taught'st Cambridge, and King Edward, Greek. 
 
 I did but prompt the age to quit their clogs, 
 
 By the known niles of ancient liberty ; 
 
 When straight a barbarous noise environs me. 
 Of owls, and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs : 
 As when those hinds that were transformed to frogs 
 
 Rail'd at Latona's twin-born progeny, 
 
 Which after held the sun and moon in fee. 
 But this is got by casting pearls to hogs. 
 That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood. 
 
 And still revolt when truth would set them free. 
 
 Licence they mean, when they cry liberty ; 
 For who loves that must first be wise and good : 
 
 But from that mark how far they rove we see, 
 For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood. 
 
 The next piece he published on this subject was " The Judgment of the famous Martin | 
 Bucer touching Divorce." Bucer exactly agrees with Milton, though the latter had not seen 
 his book till after the publication of his own. Paidus Fagius, Peter Martyr, Erasmus, and 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xxi 
 
 Grotius, are shown to have adopted the same opinion. Perhaps Bucer's doctrines respect- 
 ing this question, may have been not a little influenced in \vriting to Edward VI. by the 
 conduct of that monarch's father. In the postscript to this pamphlet, the author quits for 
 ever the camp of the presbyterian party, 
 
 " whom mutual league, 
 United thoughts and councils, equal hope 
 And hazard in the glorious enterprise, 
 Joined with him once !" 
 
 His fourth and last work relating to divorce, was his " Colasterion," a reply to a nameless 
 answer to his first work on this doctrine, " wherein the trivial author of that answer is dis- 
 covered, the licenser conferred \vith, and the opinion, which they traduce, defended." The 
 dull but malicious adversary was taken under the special patronage of Caryl, the licenser, 
 author of the Commentary on Job, for which he is sharply rebuked here, and perhaps more 
 than once refcned to in the Areopagitica. In a letter to Leo of Aizema, dated West- 
 minster, Feb. 5, 1654, Milton alludes to tliis controversy, and, as elsewhere, regrets that he 
 did not publish in Latin. 
 
 These treatises are ecpial to any which he ever wrote. Every page is sti'ewed with 
 felicities, and the mens divinior shines out with a lustre unsur})assed by himself on hap- 
 pier, though not more interesting, themes. " There are many things," saith Sir Thomas 
 Brown, " wherein the liberty of an honest reason may play and expatiate with security, and 
 far without the circle of an heresie." 
 
 " I then discussed the principles of education in a summary manner, but sufficiently 
 copious for those who attend seriously to the subject ; than which nothing can be more 
 necessary to principle the minds of men in virtue, the only genuine source of political and 
 individual liberty, the only true safeguard of states, the bulwark of their prosperity and 
 renown." 
 
 His tractate " on Education " was published in 1644, the year when he entered into 
 the heart-rending controversy concerning divorce, and it was dedicated to the remarkable 
 individual at whose request it was written. Notwithstanding the sneers of Johnson, and 
 other ushers and schoolmasters, at this noble scheme, we do hope that the country will, at 
 no distant period, realize it. The plan is not for private individuals to attempt to carry into 
 effect ; but an enlightened government, with the vast collegiate resources of England at its 
 disposal, might, without injuring existing establishments, place an academical institute on 
 this ideal platfonn in every county. We may derive pleasure and instruction, from looking 
 at this beautiful and benevolent production, as the history of the great author's own mind, 
 as well as a chart for the guidance of others, and in this point of view it throws light on 
 his character, and enlarges our estimate of his attainments. 
 
 ' In November, 1644, he published the most beautiful of his treatises, the " Areopa- 
 gitica ; a Speech for the Liberty of unlicensed Printing — to the Parliament of England." 
 
 It is well known that the art of printing, soon after its introduction into England, was 
 regulated by the king's proclamations, prohibitions, charters of privilege, and of licence, 
 and finally by the decrees of the star chamber ; which limited the number of printers, and 
 of presses, and prohibited new publications unless previously approved by proper licensers. 
 On the demolition of this odious jurisdiction by the ever-to-be-remembered long parliament, 
 this system had been suspended. The presbyterian party, however, determined to revive 
 the " imprimatur" of the star chamber, and it was against one of the orders made for this 
 purpose, that Milton directed this famous argument, modelled after the classical examples 
 of the Greek rhetors. It is thoroughly Grecian — the motto is taken from his favourite 
 Euripides, and happily translated by himself Having been frequently reprinted separately 
 
xvn INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 in England, and through the French of Mirabeau's tract, " Sur la liberte de la Presse 
 imite de I'Anglais, de Milton," obtained a modem continental celebrity, it is compara- 
 tively a popular pamphlet. James Thomson, author of " The Seasons," published an 
 8vo edition of it in 1738, when the freedom of the press was considered in danger; and in 
 this poet's " Liberty," " the art of printing" is celebrated with elaborate praise. The 
 separate edition of this transcendent pamphlet under the auspicious editorship of Holt 
 White, Esq., is the most correct and valuable which has yet appeared. John Milton was 
 the first man who asserted the liberty of unlicensed printing. The subject called forth all 
 his powers, and he appears to have written every word under the impression, that every 
 word would be weiglicd and read, not only by the statesmen whom he addressed, but by 
 those of succeeding ages. Its importance, and the most illustrious tribunal before which 
 he pleaded, never daunted him, but while he approached the august assemblage wdth the 
 mien and countenance of a freeman, his discourse is at once rhetorica l and deliberati ve, 
 bl ending the fire of the orator with the wisdom o f the sage. The " quid decet " is most 
 admirably observed. He was pleading before no rabble — the greatest geniuses for government 
 which the world ever saw, were the arbiters of his eloquence : — men who had been trium- 
 phant in battle, and were mighty in council. The vehemen ce, thp. Hisd^inj t.^p tprriblp' 
 wrath of co ntrov ersy, d isappear, and in their st ead we have such an exg i ysite np i on an d 
 inter penetrt^tion of the subl ime and the pathetic, of th e passio nate and the rationatijifijjjoJ 
 ^persuasion and argument, of^ubdued ecstasy and sober energy", ot rehgion, an dphilosoph y, 
 and poli cy, all involved in acopiouB slieaiii of ijUcli a wuiidtJl'M language, as never before, 
 and certainly never since, poured trom the lips of ancieni Oi ufmodeiir oratory. With the 
 exception of the historical digressions, i t is perhaps iaultle^s . and they will be excused, when 
 it is remembered that he stood alone, — and, as Bacon said of Luther, he was obliged in his 
 solitude to make a party of antiquity against his own time. 
 
 In the outset of the Areopagitica, he expresses the " joy and gratulation which it brings 
 to all who wish to promote their country's liberty," to approach them — he tells them that 
 " when complaints are fully heard, deeply considered, and speedily reformed, then is the 
 utmost bound of civil liberty attained," — ^that in permitting him to address them, it was 
 evident that they are " in good part arrived to this complete point," and attributes praise 
 to God, and next to " their faithful guidance and vmdaunted wisdom," — he craves leave to 
 refer to his eulogium on their first acts as a proof that he estimates their merits, and that 
 the present occasion demonstrates his fidelity, as the former did " his loyalest affection and 
 his hope." — He appears before them to tell them " that it would fare better with truth, with 
 learning, and the commonwealth, if one of their published orders were called in," — that it 
 would prove that they are more pleased with " public advice " than other statists with " pub- 
 lic flattery," — " that men will then see the difference between the magnanimity of a trien- 
 nial parliament, and that jealous haughtiness of prelates and cabin councillors, that usurped 
 of late, whereas they shall observe them in the midst of their victories and successes, more 
 quietly brooking wTitten exceptions against a voted order, than other courts," " the least 
 signified dislike of any sudden proclamation." He is thus imboldened " to presume upon 
 the meek demeanour of their civil and gentle greatness," — and by the consideration that in 
 ancient days men who professed the study of wisdom and eloquence, though private, were 
 heard gladly, " if they had ought in public to admonish the state," he would be " thought 
 not so inferior to any of those who had this privilege, as the parliament was superior to the 
 most of them who received their counsel ;" — " and how far you excel them, be assured, lords 
 and commons, there can no greater testimony appear than when your prudent spirit ac- 
 knowledges and obeys the voice of reason from what quarter soever it be heard speaking ; 
 and renders ye as willing to repeal any act of your own setting forth, as any set forth by 
 your predecessors." But analysis is impossible. TThe topics which he urges embrace the 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xxiii 
 
 whole controversy, and are exhausted. T he collateral e xcursions from th e main _gositiQn&_ 
 of his argument are, as usual, profoundly i nstr uctive, and in comparably~Heautiful. Tole- 
 ration of all opinions is the grand centre to which all the li nes of ilTustra tioii and^of^x^o- 
 sition point, and in which they all harmoniously meet The bare question of licensing is 
 apparently a dry one — -but his digressions embrace a most comprehensive circuit. The 
 Areopagitica is a fine illustration of that wonderful aggressive vigour, by which the author's 
 possession of the most inconsiderable position becomes a key to the most splendid con- 
 quest — the pass of triumph — the punctum saliensy whence, 
 
 in mighty quadrate join'd 
 Of union irresistible, move on 
 In silence his bright legions. 
 
 i is John Milton's masterpiece. 
 
 'This was his last work under the division of civil liberty, and he thus writes of it : 
 
 jastly, I wTote my Areopagitica, on the modd of a set speech, in order to relieve the 
 fess from the restraints with which it was encumbered ; that the power of determining 
 what was true, and what was false, what ought to be published, and what to be suppressed, 
 might no longer be intrusted to a few illiterate and illiberal individuals, who refused their 
 sanction to any work which contained views or sentiments at all above the level of the 
 vulgar superstition." 
 
 It was not till the year 1694, that the press was properly free. The office of licenser 
 was abolished during the usurpation of Cromwell. 
 
 " On the last species, or civil liberty I said nothing ; because I saw that sufficient atten- 
 tion was paid to it by the magistrates ; nor did I write any thing on the prerogative of the 
 crown, till the king, voted an enemy by the parliament, and vanquished in the field, was 
 summoned before the tribunal which condemned him to lose his head. But when at 
 length some presbyterian ministers, who had formerly been the most bitter enemies of 
 Charles, became jealous of the growth of the independents, and of their ascendency in the 
 parliament, most tumultuously clamoured against the sentence, and did all in their power 
 to prevent the execution, though they were not angry, so much on account of the act itself, 
 as because it was not the act of their party ; and when they dared to affirm, that the doctrine 
 of the protestants, and of all the reformed churches, was abhorrent to such an atrocious 
 proceeding against kings, I thought that it became me to oppose such a glaring falsehood, 
 and accordingly, without any immediate or personal application to Charles, 1 shewed, in 
 an abstract consideration of the question, what might lawfully be done against tyrants ; and 
 in support of what I advanced, produced the opinions of the most celebrated divines ; while 
 I vehemently inveighed against the egregious ignorance oreffrontery of men, who professed 
 better things, and from whom better things might have been expected." 
 
 This first purely political work of Milton's made its appearance some few weeks after 
 the execution of Charles ; and was written, as he further informs us, " rather to reconcile 
 the minds of men to the event, than to discuss the legitimacy of that particular sentence, 
 which concerned the magistracy, and which was already executed." 
 
 Charles's criminality is admitted on all hands, and the only questions relate either to the 
 expediency of the sentence, or the competency of the tribunal which pronounced it. What- 
 ever may be thought of the fonner question, (and we are of opinion, that the step they took 
 in carrying, against public opinion, even that just sentence, which described the king as 
 *' a tyrant, a traitor, a murderer, and a public enemy," into execution, was eventually as 
 fatal to themselves as the royal rebel,) we must remember that the deed was done, and 
 could not be imdone, and that therefore the real question was the last one, and this work of 
 Milton's is confined to it. Guilt being ]iroved against the first person in the state, who is 
 
xxiv INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 to punish it? This is an abstract question, but upon its determination depends oul 
 opinion of the regicide. The following is Milton's proposition, " That it is lawful, an(i 
 hath been held so through all ages, for any who have the power, to call to account a tyrant, 
 or wicked king, and after due conviction, to depose and put him to death ; if* the ordinary 
 magistrate have neglected, or denied to do it." — We think that it is successfully maintained. 
 " If such a one there be, by whose commission whole massacres have been committed on 
 his faithful subjects, his provinces offered to pawn or alienation, as the hire of those whon* 
 he had solicited to come in and destroy whole cities and countries ; be he king, or tyrantj 
 or emperor, the sword of justice is above him ; in whose hand soever is found sufficient 
 power to avenge the effusion, and so great a deluge of innocent blood. For if all humai 
 power to execute, not accidentally but intendedly, the wrath of God upon evil-doers without 
 exception, be of God ; then that power, whether ordinary, or if that fail, extraordinary, sc 
 executing that intent of God, is lawful, and not to be resisted." In proof, we have " sel 
 down, from first beginning, the original of kings ; how and wherefore exalted to that dignity 
 above their brethren ; and from thence shall prove, that turning to tyranny they may be as 
 lawfully deposed and punished, as they were at first elected : this I shall do by authorities 
 and reasons, not learnt in comers among schisms and heresies, as our doubling divines arc 
 ready to calumniate, but fetched out of the midst of choicest and most authentic leamingj 
 and no prohibited authors ; nor many heathen, but mosaical. Christian, orthodoxal, and, 
 which must needs be more convincing to our adversaries, presbyterial." Bishop Horsley, 
 having, as we shall see, brought a serious charge against Milton, which the appendix to this 
 work rebuts, we point particular attention to the authorities which Milton has there produced, 
 
 Milton's next work was " Observations upon the Articles of Peace with the Irish Rebelsji 
 on the Letter of Ormond to Colonel Jones, and the Representation of the Scots Presbytery 
 at Belfast." 
 
 It is well known that Charles's league with the papists precipitated his ruin. The Irish 
 rebels were (even in their horrid massacre of the protestants) called " the Queen's army.* 
 Thirteen days after these Articles of Peace were concluded by his representative in Ireland," 
 the king lost his head. Ireland was now the theatre of the royalist party, and with its 
 rabble of papists, and the little presbytery of Belfast, and the remnant of its cavaliers, pre- 
 sented as motley a spectacle of selfish union for selfish ends as was ever seen. The inde- 
 pendent army, and the genius of Cromwell, however, kept them in awe. The hvely lieutenant 
 of the martyr, after all his loving " Articles of Agreement " with the murderers of protest- 
 ants, and the novel friendship that had spnmg up between him and the presbyterians, 
 called in bribery to effect what force could not do, and accordingly wrote to Colonel Jones, 
 as Whitelocke says, promising him great rewards to come to his obedience to the king. 
 Ormond's letter is a very sprightly production, and though it had no effect on the veteran 
 to whom he sent it, Milton seems to have been not a little nettled with it. Jones's 
 reply is very characteristic of his party, and of the times. The articles first come under 
 examination, and are soon despatched. Then this letter of Onnond's is spoiled of some of 
 its sprightliness, and of all its haughtiness ; and lastly, our author comes " to deal with 
 another sort of adversaries, in show far different, in substance somewhat the same." His 
 remonstrance with the presbyterians is very powerful, and the style of the whole pamphlet 
 is lucid and masculine, and remarkable for great terseness and compression. 
 
 " Such were the fruits of my private studies, which I gratuitously presented to the church 
 and to the state ; and for which I was recompensed by nothing but impunity ; though the 
 actions themselves procured me peace of conscience and the approbation of the good ; while 
 I exercised that freedom of discussion which I loved. Others without labour or desert got 
 possession of honours and emoluments, but no one never knew me, either soliciting any thing 
 myself,' or through the medium of my friends; ever beheld me in a supplicating posture, at 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xxv 
 
 the doors of the senate or the levees of the great I usually kept myself secluded at home, 
 where my own property, part of which had been withheld during the civil commotions, and 
 part of which had been absorbed in the oppressive contributions which I had to sustain, 
 afforded me a scanty subsistence. When I was released from these engagements, and 
 thought that I was about to enjoy an interval of uninterrupted ease, I turned my thoughts 
 to a History of my Countr}', from the earliest times to the present period." 
 
 Of this great undertaking, only six Books, four now, and two afterwards, were completed. 
 They were published in 1670. The four first, referred to in the preceding extract, con- 
 duct the narrative to the union of the heptarchy under Edgar, and the remaining two, 
 written subsequently to the Second Defence, bring it down to the battle of Hastings. 
 
 In the 1st Book, taking it for granted, that of British affairs, from the first peopling of the 
 island, till the coming of Julius Caesar, nothing certain either of tradition, history, or ancient 
 fame, hath hitherto been lefl us, " Nevertheless, seeing that ofttimes relations heretofore ac- 
 counted fabulous have been after found to contain in them many footsteps and reliques of 
 something true, as what we read in poets of the flood, and giants little believed, tiU un- 
 doubted witnesses taught us, that all was not feigned ; I have therefore determined to be- 
 stow the telling over even of these reputed tales ; be it for nothing else but in favour of our 
 English poets and rhetoricians, who by their art will know how to use them judiciously." 
 And our author is as good as his word ; he ransacks Geoffrey Monmouth and his assertors, 
 and thus concludes, " By this time, like one who had set out in his way by night, and 
 travelled through a region of smooth or idle dreams, our history now arrives on the con- 
 fines, where daylight and truth meet us with a clear dawn, representing to our view, though 
 at a far distance, true colours and shapes." " We can hardly miss from one hand or other, 
 to be sufficiently informed as of things past so long ago." The curious reader will compare 
 this Book with the " Chronicles of Briton Kings " in Spencer's Faery Queene, (book ii. 
 cant. X.) The versions in both are equally close. Milton was particularly fond of British 
 fable. It is well known that he intended to make Vnnce Arthur the hero of his epic. It 
 yet remains for modem minstrel " to recount in solemn cantos the deeds of knighthood 
 founded by our victorious kings." Spencer's " continued allegory or darke conceit," leaveg 
 the field still open. Blackmore promised what he could not, and Dryden what he would 
 not, perform — and where even Southcy has failed, who can succeed ? The circumstance 
 of Milton's entering so minutely into these tales and fables, shows the extent of his plan, 
 and makes us the more regret that he never completed it. 
 
 In the 2nd Book the history is thus continued. *• I am now to write of what befel the 
 Britons from fifty and three years before the birth of our Saviour, when first the Romans 
 came in, till the decay and ceasing of that empire ; a story of much truth, and for the first 
 himdred years, and somewhat more, collected without much labour." Here he rises into a 
 fine strain of generalization ; and then, nothing daunted with the task, he culls our annals 
 from various sources, and the book concludes with the fate of the Western empire. The 
 arrogant Warburton gives the close of this book, " Henceforth we are to steer," &c. as an 
 instance of the surprising grandeur of sentiment and expression into which he sometimes 
 naturally, and without effort, rises. The beginnings and endings of all the books are 
 beautifully written, collecting the rays of the past, and dispersing them, like a tropical sun- 
 set, over the future. 
 
 The exordium of the 3rd Book will take the reader by surprise, nor will we anticipate the 
 splendid digression which he will meet with, beyond all comparison the most instructive 
 and masterly in the whole range of English history. 
 
 The 4lh Book is occupied with the transactions of this heptarchy up to its union under 
 Egbert, and after a long and sufficiently minute recital of all their dissensions, he adorns 
 the tale by pointing a solemn warning to his own times. 
 
xxiv INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 to punish it? This is an abstract question, but upon its determination depends ouj 
 opinion of the regicide. The following is Milton's proposition, " That it is lawful, an^ 
 hath been held so through all ages, for any who have the power, to call to account a tyrant, 
 or wicked king, and after due conviction, to depose and put him to death ; if' the ordinary; 
 magistrate have neglected, or denied to do it." — We think that it is successfully maintained. 
 " If such a one there be, by whose commission whole massacres have been committed oa 
 his faithful subjects, his provinces offered to pawn or alienation, as the hire of those whom 
 he had solicited to come in and destroy whole cities and countries ; be he king, or tyrant, 
 or emperor, the sword of justice is above him ; in whose hand soever is found sufficient 
 power to avenge the effusion, and so great a deluge of innocent blood. For if all human 
 power to execute, not accidentally but intendedly, the wrath of God upon evil-doers without 
 exception, be of God ; then that power, whether ordinary, or if that fail, extraordinary, so 
 executing that intent of God, is lawful, and not to be resisted." In proof, we have " set 
 down, from first beginning, the original of kings ; how and wherefore exalted to that dignity 
 above their brethren ; and from thence shall prove, that turning to tyranny they may be as 
 lawfully deposed and punished, as they were at first elected : this I shall do by authorities 
 and reasons, not learnt in comers among schisms and heresies, as our doubling divines are 
 ready to calumniate, but fetched out of the midst of choicest and most authentic learning, 
 and no prohibited authors ; nor many heathen, but mosaical. Christian, orthodoxal, and, 
 which must needs be more convincing to our adversaries, prcsbyterial." Bishop Horsley, 
 having, as we shall see, brought a serious charge against Milton, which the appendix to this 
 work rebuts, we point particular attention to the authorities which Milton has there produced. 
 
 Milton's next work was " Observations upon the Articles of Peace with the Irish Rebels, 
 on the Letter of Ormond to Colonel Jones, and the Representation of the Scots Presbytery 
 at Belfast." 
 
 It is well known that Charles's league with the papists precipitated his ruin. The Irish 
 rebels were (even in their horrid massacre of the protestants) called " the Queen's army." 
 Thirteen days after these Articles of Peace w ere concluded by his representative in Ireland, 
 the king lost his head. Ireland was now the theatre of the royalist party, and with its 
 rabble of papists, and the little presbytery of Belfast, and the remnant of its cavaliers, pre- 
 sented as motley a spectacle of selfish union for selfish ends as was ever seen. The inde- 
 pendent army, and the genius of Cromwell, however, kept them in awe. The lively lieutenant 
 of the martyr, after all his loving " Articles of Agreement" with the murderers of protest- 
 ants, and the novel friendship that had sprung up between him and the presbyterians, 
 called in bribery to effect what force could not do, and accordingly wrote to Colonel Jones, 
 as Whitelocke says, promising him great rewards to come to his obedience to the king. 
 Ormond's letter is a very sprightly production, and though it had no effect on the veteran 
 to whom he sent it, Milton seems to have been not a little nettled with it. Jones's 
 reply is very characteristic of his party, and of the times. The articles first come under 
 examination, and are soon despatched. Then this letter of Ormond's is spoiled of some of 
 its sprightliness, and of all its haughtiness ; and lastly, our author comes " to deal with 
 another sort of adversaries, in show far different, in substance somewhat the same." His 
 remonstrance with the presbyterians is very powerful, and the style of the whole pamphlet 
 is lucid and masculine, and remarkable for great terseness and compression. 
 
 " Such were the fruits of my private studies, which I gratuitously presented to the church 
 and to the state ; and for which I was recompensed by nothing but impunity ; though the 
 actions themselves procured me peace of conscience and the approbation of the good ; while 
 I exercised that freedom of discussion which I loved. Others without labour or desert got 
 possession of honours and emoluments, but no one never knew me, either soliciting any thing 
 myself,' or through the medium of ray friends ; ever beheld me in a supplicating posture, at 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xxv 
 
 the doors of the senate or the levees of the great. I usually kept myself secluded at home, 
 where my own property, part of which had been withheld during the civil commotions, and 
 part of which had been absorbed in the oppressive contributions which I had to sustain, 
 afforded me a scanty subsistence. When I was released from these engagements, and 
 thought that I was about to enjoy an inter\'al of uninterrupted ease, I turned my thoughts 
 to a History of my Countrj^ from the earliest times to the present period." 
 
 Of this great undertaking, only six Books, four now, and two afterwards, were completed. 
 They were published in 1670. The four first, referred to in the preceding extract, con- 
 duct the narrative to the union of the heptarchy under Edgar, and the remaining two, 
 written subsequently to the Second Defence, bring it down to the battle of Hastings. 
 
 In the 1st Book, taking it for granted, that of British affairs, from the first peopling of the 
 island, till the coming of Julius Caesar, nothing certain either of tradition, history, or ancient 
 fame, hath hitherto been left us, " Nevertheless, seeing that ofttimes relations heretofore ac- 
 counted fabulous have been after found to contain in them many footsteps and reliques of 
 something true, as what we read in poets of the flood, and giants little believed, till un- 
 doubted witnesses taught us, that all was not feigned ; I have therefore determined to be- 
 stow the telling over even of these reputed tales ; be it for nothing else but in favour of our 
 English poets and rhetoricians, who by their art will know how to use them judiciously." 
 And our author is as good as his word ; he ransacks Geoffrey Monmouth and his assertors, 
 and thus concludes, " By this time, like one who had set out in his way by night, and 
 travelled through a region of smooth or idle dreams, our history now arrives on the con- 
 fines, where daylight and truth meet us with a clear dawn, representing to our view, though 
 at a far distance, true colours and shapes." " We can hardly miss from one hand or other, 
 to be sufficiently informed as of things past so long ago." The curious reader will compare 
 this Book with the " Chronicles of Briton Kings " in Spencer's Faery Queene, (book ii. 
 cant. X.) The versions in both are equally close. Milton was particularly fond of British 
 fable. It is well known that he intended to make Prince Arthur the hero of his epic. It 
 yet remains for modem minstrel " to recount in solemn cantos the deeds of knighthood 
 founded by our victorious kings." Spencer's " continued allegory or darke conceit," leaveg 
 the field still open. Blackmore promised what he could not, and Dryden what he would 
 not, perform — and where even Southey has failed, who can succeed ? The circumstance 
 of Milton's entering so minutely into these tales and fables, shows the extent of his plan, 
 and makes us the more regret that he never completed it. 
 
 In the 2nd Book the history is thus continued. " I am now to write of what befel the 
 Britons from fifty and three years before the birth of our Saviour, when first the Romans 
 came in, till the decay and ceasing of that empire ; a story of much truth, and for the first 
 hundred years, and somewhat more, collected without much labour." Here he rises into a 
 fine strain of generalization ; and then, nothing daunted with the task, he culls our annals 
 from various sources, and the book concludes with the fate of the Western empire. The 
 arrogant Wavburton gives the close of this book, " Henceforth we are to steer," &c. as an 
 instance of the surprising grandeur of sentiment and expression into which he sometimes 
 naturally, and without effort, rises. The beginnings and endings of all the books are 
 beautifully written, collecting the rays of the past, and dispersing them, like a tropical sun- 
 set, over the future. 
 
 The exordium of the 3rd Book will take the reader by surprise, nor will we anticipate the 
 splendid digression which he will meet with, beyond all comparison the most instinctive 
 and masterly in the whole range of English history. 
 
 The 4lh Book is occupied with the transactions of this heptarchy up to its union under 
 Egbert, and after a long and sufficiently minute recital of all their dissensions, he adorns 
 the tale by pointing a solemn warning to his own times. 
 
nvi INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 The 5th Book contains the history of civil affairs, and of ecclesiastical, so far as they are 
 directly connected with them, including the Danish irruptions, from the Union to the death 
 of Edgar, and with him of the Saxon glor}'. The proem and peroration of this book, were 
 intended for the factions of his day, and should be read together. 
 
 The history of the decline and ruin of the Saxons, with the Conquest, complete this frag- 
 ment, the whole of which seems to have been written in the solemn light of the concluding 
 paragraph. His letter to Lord Henry de Bras, dated Westminster, July 15, 1657, informs 
 us that Sallust was his favourite author and model in historical composition. 
 
 We here resume his own narrative : " I had already finished four books, (of the history,) 
 when after the subversion of the monarchy, and the establishment of a republic, I was sur- 
 prised by an invitation from the council of state, who desired my services in the office for 
 foreign affairs. A book appeared soon after, which was ascribed to the king, and contained 
 the most invidious charges against the parliament. I was ordered to answer it ; and op- 
 posed the Iconoclast to the Icon." 
 
 His reply was published by authority, in the year 1619. It does not appear from the 
 orders of the council, (for extracts from which the public are indebted to Mr. Todd,) that 
 Milton was ordered to prepare the answer to this extraordinary work of the king's. There 
 is no entrj' of it, as there would have been had it been a state-task, and he paid for it. He 
 was probably invited to answer it, upon his own terms and at his leisure. The wisdom of 
 the new government was shown in their selection of such a servant ; and his reply to the 
 Icon is the most brilliant of his political writings in the mother tongue ; and, at the crisis, 
 must have produced a salutary reaction on the public mind. It was reprinted in 1650, and 
 published in French by Du Gard in 1652. The hangman had the honour of burning it 
 on the Restoration, and indeed if suffering constituted martyrdom, this work has as good a 
 claim to the title as he who suffered under similar hands and obtained it. An answer, or 
 what purported so to be, appeared in 1651, called tiKwv a<c\a<rT09, the Image Unbroken ; and 
 another came out as late as 1692, entitled Vindicae Carolinae ; both miserable performances, 
 compared with that " song of songs," which it is said the accomplished monarch and his 
 syren queen indited. The popularity of the Icon Basilike was certainly unexampled. It 
 was the banner-cry of all who were opposed to the existing government. Forty-seven 
 editions were circulated in England alone ; and 48,500 copies are said to have been sold. 
 We shall not enter into the vexed question, Who wrote Icon Basilike ? It has been, and is, 
 a regular controversy, and involves its hundred volumes. Tlie question is set at rest, by the 
 total absence of any allusion to it, by Clarendon, in his History of the Rebellion. The 
 silence of such a devotee, acquainted as he must have been with every particular relating 
 to the work, presents an insurmountable obstacle to the imperial claim. Suspicions were 
 entertained at the time that it was not the king's book. It has been since proved, almost 
 beyond a possibility of doubt, Uiat its author was Dr. Gauden, Bishop of Exeter. We 
 shall not enter into the evidence, but merely refer our readers to Laing's History of 
 Scotland, or Symmons's admirable Life of Milton, for information and satisfaction. Milton 
 intimated his suspicions of its authenticity, but it was evidently his policy, in the absence 
 of all but internal evidence to corroborate his suspicions, to treat it as no forgery ; he does 
 not therefore uncase this grand imposture. Be the " great unknown " whom he might, 
 the gauntlet is here taken up as if it were the king's ; everj' allegation is examined, 
 the reply and justification of the parliament and army are complete, and the ghostly visitant 
 gibbers back again to the grave. . Pressing closely on his antagonist, and tracing him step 
 by step, the Iconoclast cither exposes the fallacy of his reasonings, or the falsehood of 
 his assertions, or the hoUowness of his professions, or the convenient speciousness of his 
 devotion. In argument and in style, compressed and energetic, perspicuous and neat, it 
 discovers a quickness, which never misses an advantage, and a keenness of remark, which 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xxvii 
 
 carries an irresistible edge. The martyr stands before us, exposed in all the deformity of 
 his duplicity and despotism, smitten, blasted, and withered in the pitiless encounter : and 
 yet there is not a single paragraph of unseemly exultation, of wanton mockery or insult, 
 over the fall of the monarch, tliroughout the secretary's vindication of the patriots. The 
 tone of the mournful and majestic Preface is always preserved. As so much history the 
 Iconoclast is invaluable. The royal road to a fatal block is pointed out ; and the lesson is 
 not more awful than plain ! The following extracts are specimens of that satire, sportive, 
 and yet grave withal, which ^^^^ngs its victim in every page. 
 
 The monarch says, " They know my chiefest arms left me were prayers and tears." 
 " O sacred reverence of God ! respect and shame of men ! whither were ye fled when 
 these hypocrisies were uttered ? Was the kingdom then at all that cost of blood to re- 
 move from him none but prayers and tears ? What were those thousands of blaspheming 
 cavaliers about him, whose mouths let fly oaths and curses by the volley ? Were those the 
 prayers ? and those carouses, drank to the confusion of all things good or holy, — did those 
 minister the tears ? Were they prayers and tears, whicli were listed at York, mustered at 
 Ileworth Moor, and laid siege to Hull for the guard of his person? Were prayers and 
 tears at so high a rate in Holland, that nothing could purchase them but the crown jewels ? 
 Yet they in Holland (such word was sent us) sold them for guns, carabines, mortar-pieces, 
 cannons, and other deadly instruments of war; which, when they came to York, were all, 
 no doubt by the merit of some great saint, suddenly transformed into prayers and tears ; and 
 being divided into regiments and brigades, were the only arms that mischieved us in all 
 those battles and encounters. These were his chief arms, whatever we must call them ; 
 and yet such arms as they who fought for the commonwealth have, by the help of better 
 prayers, vancpiished and brought to nothing." 
 
 In chapter XI. the king says, " But the * incommunicable jewel of his conscience' he will 
 not give, * but reserve to himself.' It seems tliat liis conscience was none of the crown 
 jewels ; for those were in Holland, not incommunicable, to buy arms against his subjects. 
 Being therefore ])ut a private jewel, he could not have done a greater pleasure to the king- 
 dom than by reserving it to himself. But he, contrary to what is here professed, would 
 have his conscience not an incommunicable, but a universal conscience, the whole king- 
 dom's conscience. Thus what he seems to fear lest we should ravish from him, is our chief 
 complaint that he obtruded upon us ; we never forced him to part with his conscience, but 
 it was he that would have forced us to part with ours." 
 
 The eventful year of 1 649 had not yet closed when Claude de Saumaise, latin^ Clau- 
 dius Salmasius, the most celebrated scholar of the age, published his " Defensio Regia 
 pro Carolo Primo ad Carolum Secundum," or a Royal Defence of Charles the 1st to Charles 
 the 2nd. This insolent attack on the English government and people, produced at a 
 critical juncture of affairs, by a man of unrivalled eminence in letters, and at the especial 
 solicitation of the illustrious exile to whom it is dedicated, must have attracted attention, 
 both at home and abroad, and required refutation. The achievements of a handful of heroes 
 in England had roused the fears of despotism ; and a willing ear was probably lent by the 
 continental potentates to the present invocation of their interference on behalf of the then 
 Pretender. The council of state thought it desirable to issue a reply to this libellous and 
 dangerous manifesto, and their determination is recorded in the following laconic order of 
 the 8 Jan. 1649-50 : " That Mr. Milton do prepare something in answer to the Book of 
 Salmasius, and when he hath done itt, bring itt to the council." 
 
 Milton was present at the discussion which led to this characteristic direction, and 
 although warned that the loss of sight would be one certain consequence of obeying it, he 
 magnanimously undertook, and in spite of constant interruptions arising from increasing ill 
 health, nobly performed his honourable task. " I would not," says he in the Second De- 
 
xxriii INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 fence, " have listened to the voice even of Esculapius himself from the shrine of Epidauris, 
 in preference to the suggestions of the heavenly monitor within my breast ; my resolution 
 [to undertake the rej)ly to the defence of the royal cause] was unshaken, though the alterna- 
 tive was either the loss of my sight, or the desertion of my duty ; and I called to mind those 
 two destinies, which the oracle of Delphi announced to the son of Thetis. 
 
 Two fates may lead me to the realms of night ; 
 
 If staying here, around Troy's walls I fight, 
 
 To my dear home no more must I return ; 
 
 But lasting glory will adorn my urn. 
 
 But if I withdraw from the martial strife, 
 
 Short is my fame, but long will be my life. — II. IX. 
 
 I considered that many had purchased a less good by a greater evil, the meed of glory by 
 the loss of life ; but that I might procure great good by a little suffering ; that though 1 am 
 blind, I might still discharge the most honourable duties, the performance of which, as it is 
 something more durable than glory, ought to be an object of superior admiration and 
 esteem ; I resolved, therefore, to make the short interval of sight, which was left me to 
 enjoy, as beneficial as possible to the public interest." — Early in the year 1651, out came 
 " something in answer to the Book of Salmasius " — the immortal Defence of the People of 
 England — the most cosUy-won and brilliant achievement in the annals of controversy. 
 
 It is allowed by all, that the triumph of Milton was decisive, and the humiliation of his 
 adversary complete. Salmasius, like another Milo, but without his strength, attempted to 
 rive the British oak, and his presumption was rewarded by a fate equally miserable and ridicu- 
 lous. Great was the advantage, which, in all encounters, Milton had over his enemies, in 
 the consistency of his moral and political character. " I again invoke the Almighty to 
 witness, that I never, at any time, wrote any thing which I did not think agreeable to truth, 
 to justice, and to piety. Nor was I ever prompted to such exertions by the influence of 
 ambition, by the lust of lucre or of praise ; it was only by the conviction of duty and the 
 feeling of patriotism, a disinterested passion for the extension of civil and religious 
 liberty." Salmasius was a mercenary parasite. He had formerly written with the great- 
 est acrimony against the bishops of England : the " Royal Defence " is their imqualified 
 and servile eulogy. Such was the effect of a hundred jacobins on this honorary professor 
 in a protestant republic, that they spirited him up to offer, in this work, the grossest insult 
 to his feeders and patrons, who were obliged to prohibit its sale within their dominions. 
 Milton, it should be remembered, implored the Dutch to take off this prohibition. Plis 
 infinite conceit of himself turned upon his real or imaginary ascendency in scholarship, 
 and it so happened that here where he was most sensitive, he was most vulnerable. The 
 blunders and barbarisms in the style, the contradictions and sophisms in tlie argument, of 
 the Royal Defence, laid its author open to the most galling exposure ; and where he should 
 have been, and in points in which the world considered him, impregnable, he was often de- 
 fenceless. His very authorities generally of themselves make against his cause, or if they do 
 not, his own comments imitate their fugleman, and turn deserters. The laughter of Europe 
 was excited when they saw a renowned, irrefragable, and most an'ogant doctor, beaten, at his 
 own weapons, by the island-champion of a " crew of fanatics." The giant dealer in words, 
 when grappled with as a grammarian, is rolled over and over in the very dust on which 
 alone, like Antaeus with Hercules, could he for one moment cope with his antagonist : and 
 he is satisfactorily despatched only after the manner of his classical prototype. It must not 
 be imagined that this contest was merely a duel of words ; or that the defender of our poli- 
 tical faith, while necessarily keeping in view the character of Salmasius, lost sight of his 
 principles. Pains have been taken to romrv tho impression that tliis controversy involved 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xxix 
 
 no principle. Butler, the witty and the starved-to-death author of Hudibras, thus alludes 
 
 to it. 
 
 Some polemicks rise to draw their swords, 
 Against the language only and the words. 
 As he who fought at barriers with Salmasius, 
 Engaged with nothing but his style and phrases. 
 Waved to assert the murder of a prince, 
 The author of false Latin to convince ; 
 But laid the merits of the cause aside, 
 By those that understood them to be tried ; 
 And counted breaking Priscian's head a thing 
 More capital than to behead a king; 
 For which he has been praised by all the learned, 
 Of knaves concerned, and pedants unconcerned ! 
 
 Funny — but untrue. Sovereign was the contempt which John Milton entertained for the 
 " mere trappings," both of pedantry and royalty. 
 
 Salmasius was in fact little more than an ingenious emendator of broken sentences and 
 worm-eaten words, and he probably sinned as much against his nature in assuming the 
 character of a politician, as against his conscience in eulogizing bishops, and justifying a 
 despot. He was one of those " grammarians " Sir Thomas Browne refers to, who " toure 
 and plume themselves over a single line in Horace, and shew more pride in the constnic- 
 tion of one ode, than the author in the composure of the whole booke." Of " divine philo- 
 sophy " Salmasius possessed not the tithe of a particle. Of the world of men, with its 
 highest and most complicated concerns, he was as ignorant as the monk that spent his life 
 in illuminating a letter. The power to strike out of the mass of particulars great princi- 
 ples, — to hew from the rock the comer-stones of truth, and polish and complete the living 
 edifice, — to stamp on the precious metal of original genius the signet that shall be sterling 
 for ever, — was utterly withheld from his soul, and we shall look in vain through his book 
 for any thing higher than its author. His production died into lumber an age ago — and his 
 name, as a politician, is a dreadless symbol for dejure divino simplicity, even among the 
 followers of Macchiavelli. In the first chapter of the Defence of the People of England, 
 towards the end, his adversary thus speaks of him. 
 
 " Dare you affect the reputation of a learned man ? I confess you are pretty well versed 
 in phrase books, and lexicons, and glossaries ; insomuch that you have spent your time in 
 nothing else. But you do not make appear that you have read any good authors with so 
 much judgment as to have benefited by them. Other copies, and various lections, and words 
 omitted, and coniiptions of texts, and the like, these you are full of; but no footstep of any 
 solid learning appears in all you have writ. Or do you think yourself a wise man, that quar- 
 rel and contend about the meanest trifles that may be ?" 
 
 Dr. Johnson acknowledges that Salmasius had " not much considered the rights of 
 governments," (those of subjects, surely, the Doctor meant,) and yet endeavours to ridicule 
 Milton for treating his antagonist, personally, rather as a verbiloquist and a pedant, than as 
 a politician. A mere glance, however, at the fundamental doctrines asserted by Milton, 
 will show the real scope and indestructible value of his work. Therein is maintained in 
 opposition to Salmasius, who had asserted the irresponsibility of kings to their subjects, 
 that all civil power emanates from the people ; that the magistrates, as well as the people, 
 should be, and are, alike subject to the laws, and the sanction of history, with her exam- 
 ples from all the most celebrated commonwealths, is produced ; that the regal office itself is 
 merely a trust committed to the king by the people on certain conditions, express or im- 
 plied, that he is therefore accountable to them for that trust, and if he betray it, is liable 
 to be cashiered, or even punished capitally, should such be the will of the community ; 
 hence that Charles the 1st, being guilty of misgovemment, and breach of trust, was la^^•fully 
 
I. 
 
 jam INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 and justly put to death. These positions he illustrates and confirms by an a})peal to tlie 
 Jewish and Christian Scriptures, to the most eminent writers, poets, historians, and law- 
 givers of antiquity, to the laws of nature and nations, and lastly to our own municipal laws. 
 Milton thus kept his eye on the cause, and not merely was the royal advocate silenced, but 
 the claims of legitimacy quashed for ever. 
 
 The performance of Salmasius is its own antidote. An elaborate defence of despotism 
 in the abstract, it is tliat of Charies the 1st in particular ; and the entire argument proceeds 
 upon the assumption that that unfortunate monarch had actually been what de jure divino 
 it is there contended he had a right to be — A tyrant. The advocate of Charles being 
 thus the advocate of pure tyranny, his bulky production, instead of being, as it imports, a 
 defence of the oppressor, and a lasting monument to his honour, becomes a pillar of infamy 
 — at once the trophy and the beacon of the people's cause. 
 
 The work of our illustrious countryman is so strictly and critically a reply to the " Royal 
 Defence," reviewing and refuting, Kara vota, sentence by sentence, every important assertion 
 or principle advanced by the adversary, that neither outline nor extract, synthesis nor 
 analysis, can convey an idea of the depth of its philosophic spirit, the splendoiur of its eru- 
 dition, or the varied beauties of its vigorous logic and sober rhetoric. No translation (yet 
 the one subjoined is, in many points, excellent) can adequately reflect the immortal original. 
 The delicious mannerism of Milton evaporates in transfusion. Walsingham has hit the 
 sense, but to hit off the style is, we fear, impossible. In extracting the perfume, the lustre 
 of the flower, often more charming than its precious fragrance, is gone. After all, in the 
 best translation there must be the real difierence between similarity and identity, and the 
 formal, between the same warrior in a Roman panoply and a saxon gear. Milton is yet 
 unexcelled in English, and few will question his pre-eminence in Latin composition. The 
 language of Cicero is upon his tongue, and, " winged with red lightning and impetuous 
 rage," never did the great Roman orator wield its thunders more easily or more effectively. 
 We almost as deeply regret that Milton did not give to his countrymen a version " in the 
 mother tongue" (which was his prime favourite) of that which he presented to Europe in the 
 Latin, as we admire his unbounded mastery over the universal language. This regret 
 extends as well to all his most important subsequent writings. The Viscount St. Albans 
 conceived that the Latin volume of his Essays, " being in the universal language, might 
 last as long as books last," — there is no danger of the Latin surviving the English, — but 
 who does not wish that Milton had taken a hint from Bacon in this particular — it would 
 have tended, inconceivably, to raise and perpetuate his political fame, and thus he would 
 have postponed yet further the fate of both tongues. 
 
 The continent " rang " with the praise of the work, and we doubt not that it will again 
 ring with it Little known prior to this great effort except at home, where he was disliked 
 and feared by two most numerous factions, Milton's triumph w as most felt and confessed 
 abroad, where Salmasius had long held supreme sway, and Europe was the scene of its 
 celebration. Congratulations poured in upon him from all quarters. Learned foreigners 
 by letter complimented, most of the amba.ssadors visited or felicitated him. The French 
 government assisted its sale, by ordering it to be burnt, both at Paris and Thoulouse, by the 
 common hangman. Ilis own most exquisite account of his contest with the advocate of 
 legitimacy will be found in the Second Defence. He seems to have been always anxious 
 to obtain and to preser^'e the good opinion of foreign scholars. When he was called upon 
 to enter upon the last-mentioned work, and defend again, before the same tribunal, the very 
 defenders of the great cause of which he was the champion, he can hardly refrain in his _ 
 relation from assuming ** a more lofty and swelhng tone than the simplicity of an exordiuml[ 
 may seem to justify ; and much," continues he, *' as I may be surpassed in the powers of 
 eloquence, and copiousness of diction, by the illustrious orators of antiquity ; yet the sub- 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xiw 
 
 ject of which I treat was never surpassed in any age, in dignity or in interest. It has 
 excited such general and such ardent expectation, that I imagine myself not in the forum 
 or on the rostra, surrounded only by the people of Athens or of Rome ; but about to address 
 in this, as I did in my former Defence, the whole collective body of people, cities, states, 
 and councils of the wise and eminent, through wie wide expanse of anxious and listening 
 Europe." Jam videor mihi, ingressus iter, transmarinos tractus et porrectas lat^ regiones, 
 sublimis perlustrare ; vultus innumeros atque ignotos, animi sensusmecum conjunctissimos. 
 Hinc Germanorum virile ct infestum servituti robur, inde Francorum vividi dignique 
 nomine liberales impetus, hinc Hispanorum consulta virtus, Italorura inde sedata suique 
 compos magnanimitas ob oculos versatur. Quicquid uspiam libcrorum pectorum, quicquid 
 ingenui, quicquid magnanimi aut prudens latet aut ge palam profitetur, alii tacite favere, 
 alii apert^ suffVagari, accurrerc alii et plausu accipere, alii tandem vero victi, dedititios se 
 tradere. Videor jam mihi, tantis circumseptus copiis, ab Herculeis usque columnis ad 
 extremos Liberi patris tenninos, libertatem diu pulsam atque exulem, longo intervallo 
 domum ubique gentium reducere : et, quod Triptolemus olim fertur, sed long^ nobiliorem 
 Cereali illafmgem ex civitate mea gcntibus iraportare ; restitutum nempe civilem liberuraque 
 vita) cultum, per urbes, perregna, perquc nationes disseminare. — " I seem to survey, as from 
 a towering height, the far extended tracts of sea and land, and innumerable crowds of specta- 
 tors, betraying in their looks the liveliest interest, and sensations the most congenial with my 
 own. Here I behold the stout and manly prowess of the German, disdaining servitude ; there 
 the generous and lively impetuosity of the French ; on this side the calm and stately valour 
 of the Spaniard ; on that the composed and wary magnanimity of the Italian. Of all the 
 lovers of liberty and virtue, the magnanimous and the wise, in whatever quarter they may 
 be found, some secretly favour, others openly approve; some greet me with congratulations 
 and applause ; others, who had long been proof against conviction, at last yield themselves 
 captive to the force of truth. Surrounded by congregated multitudes, I now imagine, that, 
 from the columns of Hercules to the Indian ocean, I behold the nations of the earth 
 recovering that liberty which they so long had lost ; and that the people of this island 
 are transporting to other countries a plant of more beneficial qualities, and more noble 
 growth, than that which Tri])tolem.us is reported to have carried from region to region ; that 
 they are disseminating the Ijlessings of civilization and freedom among cities, kingdoms, 
 and nations. Nor shall I approach unknown, nor perhaps unloved, if it be told that I am the 
 same person, who engaged in single combat that fierce advocate of despotism, till then 
 reputed invincible in the opinion of many, and in his own conceit, who insolently chal- 
 lenged us and our armies to the combat ; but whom, while I repelled his virulence, I 
 silenced with his own weapons ; and over whom, if I may trust to the opinion of impartial 
 judges, I gained a complete and glorious victory." 
 
 Toland, and succeeding biographers, have asserted that Milton was rewarded by the 
 council with a present of ^£1000. The Second Defence, pubhshed three years after the first, 
 denies that its author was ever the richer by one half-penny for these and similar works, 
 and the council book shews that the gratitude of his task-masters, to their shame be it 
 recorded, expended itself in commendation. 
 
 " 1651. June 18. Ordered, that thanks be given to Mr. Milton on the behalf of the 
 commonwealth, for his good services done in writing an answer to the booke of Salmasius, 
 written against the proceedings of the commonwealth of England." But all this, says Mr. 
 Todd, in his account of the life and writings of IMilton, is crossed over, and nearly three 
 lines following are obliterated, in which, Mr. Lemon says, a grant of money was made to 
 Milton. After the cancelled passage, the regular entry thus follows : " The councill taking 
 notice of the many good services performed by Mr. John Milton, their secretary for foreign 
 Languages, to this state and commonwealth, particularlie for his Booke in vindication of the 
 
xxxii INTRODUCTORY RKVIEW 
 
 Parliament and People of England against the calumnies and invectives of Salmasius, have 
 thought fit to declare their resentment and good acceptance of the same ; and that the 
 thanks of the councill be returned to Mr. Mylton, and their sense represented in that 
 
 behalf." 
 
 The Defence of the People of England does not contain any abstract principle which 
 was not acted upon in the Revolution of 1688, and is not now formally embodied in the 
 Briti.sh ConsUtution, and approved of by the vast majority of those who eigoy its protec- 
 tion. The Earl of Bridgewater, who had performed the part of the first brother in the 
 Masque of Comus, is said to have written on the title-page of the Defensio, •' Liber ign^, 
 author furca, dignissimi." So thought the friends of liberty in France, and would doubtless 
 have carried the latter part of the sentence as they did the former into execution. It may 
 be unhesitatingly asserted that tliere is no governmental or political maxim or opinion 
 therein delivered or maintained to which a good king would not willingly subscribe. " If 
 I write," says Milton in the Second Defence, " against tyrants, what is that to kings, whom 
 I am far from associating with tyrants ? As much as an honest man differs from a rogue, 
 so much I contend that a king differs fi-om a tyrant. Whence it is clear that a tyrant is so 
 far from being a king, that he is always in direct opposition to a king. And he who 
 peruses the records of history, will find that more kings have been subverted by tyrants, 
 than by subjects. He, therefore, that would authorize the destruction of tyrants, does not 
 authorize the destruction of kings, but of the most inveterate enemies of kings." 
 
 Far distant be the day when an English king shall require the assistance of another 
 Salmasius ! 
 
 The superabundant malice of Bishop Horsley, and the industry of Mr. Todd, have only 
 been able to make a joint nibble at the Defensio. These luminaries of the church of Eng- 
 land, differing in magnitude not density, have endeavoured to throw the shade of a foul 
 dander over the Miltonic orb in this controversy. As Mr. Todd adds nothing of weight to 
 the Bishop's paragraph, we shall content ourselves with the episcopal charge. " WTien 
 Salmasius " (says Bishop Horsley in the Appendix to his Sermon before the House of 
 Lords, Jan. 30, 1793, p. 38) " upbraided the Cromwell faction with the tenets of the Brown- 
 ists, the chosen advocate of that execrable faction (Milton) replied, that if they were 
 Brownists, Luther, Calvin, Bucer, Zuinglius, and all the most celebrated theologians of the 
 orthodox, must be included in the same reproach. A grosser falsehood as far as Luther» 
 Calvin, and many others, are concerned, never fell from the unprincipled pen of a party 
 writer. However sedition might be a part of the puritanick creed, the general faith of the 
 Reformers rejects the infamous alliance." 
 
 A serious charge is here brought, but is it attempted to be sustained ? The independents 
 were a religious sect, and so named from the form of their church-government, ^^'ith this 
 form it is evident that their theological doctrines had no necessary connexion — nor were 
 their political tene^ necessarily either of the royal or rebel faction. How, therefore, the 
 Bishop can, after Salmasius, class sedition as a part of the creed of a sect, which, as such, 
 disclaims the alliance between the church and state — how a religious community, as such, 
 can adopt so destructive a principle into their very articles of faith, will ever remain an 
 incomprehensible marvel. As independents they could not profess the principle of sedition, 
 nor could the religious reformers as such — therefore from the charge of sedition (which is 
 a political offence) they are both equally clear. If in what the independents did believe, 
 the reformers, as far as it was possible, believed also, the inference must be that the charge 
 brought against the commonwealthsmen (of sedition) includes the reformers. The ultimate 
 principle on which the reformers rested their opposition to the pope of Rome, was that 
 which justified the independents (and other sectaries) in their religious opposition to the 
 English pope, or the head of the English church ; so that inasmuch as there can be re« 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xxxiil 
 
 ligious sedition, the sectaries might (if they chose) shelter themselves under the example 
 of the greatest protestant reformers. The independents could not as such act in political 
 opposition to the king of England; — herein tliey acted as Englishmen upon the common 
 ground of liberty, on which alone the protestant reformers as against their popish rulers 
 could be justified, and on which alone the members of the church of England could be 
 justified in expelling Pope James the 2nd from the English throne. 
 
 Now for the filet — as to what was really the opinion of the reformers on the right of subjects 
 to rebel against tyrants. The Bishop we have seen denies that the reformers acknowledged 
 this right. What says Milton ? " We have put to death neither a good, nor a just, nor a 
 merciful, nor a devout, nor a godly, nor a peaceable king, as you style him ; but an enemy 
 that has been so to us almost ten years to an end ; nor one that was a father, but a de- 
 stroyer of his country. You confess that such things have been practised ; for yourself 
 have not the impudence to deny it : but not by protestants upon a protestant king. But 
 there being so few protestant kings, it is no great wonder, if it never happened that one of 
 them has been put to death. But that it is lawful to depose a tyrant, and punish him ac- 
 cording to his deserts ; nay, that this is the opinion of many protestant divines, and of such 
 as have been most instrumental in the late reformation, do you deny it if you dare." This 
 is in the Ist chapter — the concluding paragraph of the 5th of the Defensio is the passage 
 on which the Bishop animadverts. In the 1st chapter the opinion is reiterated. 
 
 " You confess that ' some protestants whom you do not name, have asserted it lawful to 
 depose a tyrant ;' but though you do not think fit to name them, I will, because you say 
 ' they are far worse than the Jesuits themselves ;' they are no other than Luther, and 
 Zuinglius, and Calvin, and Bucer, and Parens, and many others." 
 
 Again in the 3rd chapter towards tlie end : " But would you know the reason why he (Sal- 
 masius) dares not come so low as to the present times ? Why he does as it were hide him- 
 self, and disappear, when he comes towards our own times ? The reason is, because he 
 knows full well, that as many eminent divines as there are of the reformed churches, so 
 many adversaries he would have to encounter. Let him take up the cudgels if he thinks 
 fit ; he will quickly find himself run down with innumerable authorities, out of Luther, 
 Zuinglias, Calvin, Bucer, Martyr, Parens, and the rest. 1 could oppose you with testimo- 
 nies out of divines, that have flourished even in Leyden." 
 
 Reformation whether opposed to reigning government or to a reigning superstition is 
 equally liable to the charge of " sedition^ Milton at the end of this chapter says, " I cannot 
 but smile at this man's preposterous whimsies; in ecclesiastics he is Helvidius, Thraseas, 
 a perfect tyrannicide. In politics no man more a lackey and slave to tjTants than he. If 
 his doctrine hold, not we only that have deposed our king, but the protestants in general, 
 who against the minds of their princes have rejected the pope, are all rebels alike." 
 
 These passages assert that it was the opinion of protestant divines, that tyrants whether 
 in civil or ecclesiastical affairs might be resisted. Milton refers to them as undeniably 
 favourable to the proceedings of the commonwealth. Not merely does he assert this coin- 
 cidence of the opinion of the refonners with the conduct of his party in these and other 
 places, in the Defensio, and also in the Second Defence, but it will be remembered that 
 in the appendix to " the Tenure of Kings and Magistrates," quotations from Luther, Zu- 
 inglius, Calvin, Bucer, Parens, Gilby, Christopher Goodman, are expressly given to this 
 effect. Safely therefore may we set off against the Bishop's the Appendix of John Milton. 
 Civil and religious liberty are in fact convertible terms — there is neither where there is 
 not both. 
 
 Salmasius threw a handful of dust on his conqueror before he died. He terminated his 
 days at the Spa in Germany, in 1652, shortly after he had finished a most virulent reply to 
 Milton, which however was not published until the year of the Restoration, when it was 
 
xxxiT INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 produced witli a dedicatron to Charles Uie 2iul, and entitled, " Claudii Salmasii ad Joannem 
 Miltonuin Rcsponsio, opus posthumum ; Dijon, Sept. 1660." Answer of Claudius Salma- 
 sius to John Milton; a posthumous work, &c. The learned Dr. Birch says, that the 
 virulence which it displays is unexampled. He treats his antagonist as an ordinary school- 
 master ; " qui ludimagister in Schola triviali Londinensi fuit ;" and charges him with 
 divorcing his wife after a year's marriage, for reasons best known to liimself, and defend- 
 ing the lawfulness of divorce for any causes whatsoever. He styles him, impura bellua, 
 qua) nihil hominis sibi reliqui fecit praeter lippiantes oculos. He charges him with some 
 false quantities in his juvenile Latin poems ; and throughout the whole book gives him the 
 title of Bellua, fanaticus latro, homunculus, lippulus, caeculus, homo perditissimus, nebulo, 
 impurus, scelestus audax et nefarius alastor, infandus impostor, &c. &c. And declares that 
 he would have him tortured with burning pitch or scalding oil till he expired : " pro 
 caeteris autem suis factis dictisque dignum dicam videri, qui pice ardenti, vel oleo fervente, 
 perfundaris, usque dum animam effles nocentem et camifici jam pridem debitam." So much 
 for the " great" Salmasius. 
 
 The First Defence is the last of Milton's writings — the last work which he wTote with 
 his own hand. Before the end of the year in which he completed it, he was quite blind. 
 All his future works therefore, whether prose or verse, must have been dictated. This is 
 pure eloquence, and true bardic rapture, — the utterance — the hallowed fire, for which " to 
 touch and purify his lips," he so devoutly prayed. The visitation of blindness must have 
 been to a mind like his, so admirably framed to enjoy the wonders and beauties of the 
 visible imiverse, a severe and afflictive dispensation — a hard sentence of exclusion from 
 the palace of the magnificent creation. But his spirit had already conversed with the 
 domain of materialisms; the light, though faded from his eyes, was yet "pleasant" to his 
 soul ; and the capacious vision of memory was perhaps more splendid than the actual reve- 
 lation of visual sense. He had taken a spiritual possession of suns and systems, and 
 turned them all into thoughts. Time itself became to him a part of the past, and the pre- 
 sent was to him the portion of a privileged eternity. He was thus brought into perpetual 
 contact or rather converse with the invisible. One veil of flesh was removed. His com- 
 plete external dependence upon the kindnesses and sympathies of his fellow-creatures, 
 must have taught him the lesson we have all to learn, of total dependence and reliance upon 
 the Creator. Faith, now a necessary portion of his animal life, became more intensely 
 identified with his spiritual nature. His mind was not benighted, nor even darkened. The 
 lustre of these heavens and the luxiuriance of this earth he was not destined to see any more 
 — but he knew that the time of his departure was at hand — and that his eyes should soon 
 be opened, in " supereminence of beatific vision," upon the " new heavens, and the new 
 earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness !" 
 
 Adversity, says Lord Bacon, does best discover virtue. Milton bore his affliction with 
 exemplary patience and fortitude. His epi8Coi)alian enemies boasted that they saw in it 
 a retribution for the transgressions of his pen. In the Second Defence, written three years 
 after this calamity had befallen him, he explains, in a passage already quoted, the motives 
 by which he was governed in the measures which he took, and under the losses which he 
 sustained — and thus replies to such miserable antagonists : 
 
 " Let then the calumniators of the divine goodness cease to revile, or to make me the 
 object of their superstitious imagination. Let them consider that my situation, such as it 
 is, is neither an object of my shame or my regret ; that my resolutions are too firm to be 
 shaken, that I am not depressed by any sense of the divine displeasure ; that on the other 
 hand, in the most momentous periods, I have had full experience of the divine favour and] 
 protection, and that, in the solace and the strength, which have been infused into me from^ 
 above, I have been enabled to do the will of God ; that I may oftener think on what he 
 
INTRODUCTORV REVIEW. xxxt 
 
 has bestowed, than on what he has withheld ; that in short I am unwiUing to excliange my 
 consciousness of rectitude with that of any other person ; and that I feel the recollection a 
 treasured store of tranquillity and delight. But if the choice were necessary, I would, Sir, 
 prefer my blindness to yours : yours is a cloud spread over the mind, which darkens both the 
 light of reason and of conscience ; mine keeps from my view only the coloured surfaces of 
 things, while it leaves me at liberty to contem]>late the beauty and stability of virtue and of 
 truth. How many things are there besides, which I would not willingly see ; how many which 
 I must see against my will ; and how few which I feel any anxiety to see! There is, as the 
 apostle has remarked, a way to strength through weakness. Let me then be tlie most feeble 
 creature alive, as long as that feebleness serves to invigorate the energies of my rational and 
 immortal spirit ; as long as in that obscurity, in which I am enveloped, the light of the divine 
 presence more clearly shines: then, in proportion as I am weak, I shall be invincibly strong; 
 and in proportion as I am blind, I shall more clearly see. O ! that I may thus be perfected 
 by feebleness, and iiTadiated by obscurity! And indeed," (let these few sentences sink deep 
 in our minds, and then we shall form a proper estimate of his posthumous detractors,) " in 
 my blindness, I enjoy in no inconsiderable degree the favour of the Deity ; who regards mo 
 with more tenderness and compassion in proportion as I am able to behold nothing but 
 himself. Alas ! for him who insults me, who maligns and merits public execration ! For 
 the divine law not only shields me from injury ; but almost renders me too sacred to attack ; 
 not indeed so much from the privation of my sight, as from the overshadowing of those 
 heavenly wings, which seem to have occasioned this obscurity ; and which, when occa- 
 sioned, he is wont to illuminate with an interior light, more precious and more pure. To 
 this I ascribe the more tender assiduities of my friends, their soothing attentions, their kind 
 visits, their reverential observances ; among whom there are some with whom I may inter- 
 change the Pyladean and Thesean dialogue of inseparable friends. This extraordinary 
 kindness which I experience, cannot be any fortuitous combination ; and friends, such as 
 mine, do not suppose that all the virtues of a man are contained in his eyes. Nor do the 
 persons of principal distinction in the commonwealth, suffer me to be bereaved of comfort, 
 when they see me bereaved of sight, amid the exertions which I made, the zeal which I 
 shewed, and the dangers which I ran for the liberty which I love. But, soberly reflecting 
 on the casualties of human life, they shew me favour and indulgence as to a soldier who 
 has served his time ; and kindly concede to me an exemption from care and toil. They 
 do not strip me of the badges of honour which I have once worn ; they do not deprive me 
 of the places of public trust to which I have been appointed ; they do not abridge my 
 salary or emoluments ; which, though I may not do so much to deserve as I did formerly, 
 they are too considerate and too kind to take away ; and in short they honour me as much, 
 as the Athenians did those, whom they determined to support at the public expense in the 
 Prytaneum, Thus, while both God and man unite in solacing me under the weight of my 
 affliction, let no one lament my loss of sight in so honourable a cause. And let me not 
 indulge in unavailing grief; or want the courage either to despise the revilers of my blind- 
 ness, or the forbearance easily to pardon the offence." What say the revilers, not of his 
 blindness, but of his memory, to this magnanimous efiusion ? 
 
 Time was yet his tabernacle — he yet a sojourner — and though he neither shunned nor 
 courted publicity, he continued diligently to discharge all the common duties of life. 
 Well might Wordsworth sing : 
 
 Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea, 
 Pure as the naked heavens, majestic, free : 
 So didst thou travel on life's common \vav, 
 In cheerful godliness ; and yet thy heart 
 The lowliest duties on herself did lav. 
 
xxxYi INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 Yet a while longer his harp was left in the hands of the guardian Muse. The strings 
 were now occasionally, and never more hannoniously, touched by hira. These sonnets 
 show that his right hand had lost none of its cunning, and may be introduced here. 
 
 ON HIS BLINDNESS 
 
 When I consider how my light is spent 
 
 Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide. 
 
 And that one talent which is death to hide. 
 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent 
 To serve therewith my Maker, and present 
 
 My ti-ue account, lest he, returning, chide ; 
 
 Doth God exact day-labour, light denied ? 
 I fondly ask : but Patience, to prevent 
 That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need 
 
 Eitlier man's work, or his own gifts ; who best 
 
 Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best ; his state 
 Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed. 
 
 And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 
 
 Tliey also serve who only stand and wait. 
 
 TO CYRIAC SKINNER. 
 
 Cyriac, this three-years-day these eyes, tho' clear, 
 
 To outward view, of blemish or of spot, 
 
 Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot, 
 Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear 
 Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, 
 
 Or man or woman. Yet I argue not 
 
 Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot 
 OT heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer 
 Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask ? 
 
 The conscience, friend, to have lost them overplied _, 
 
 In Liberty's defence, my noble task, 
 
 Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 
 This thought might lead me thro' the world's vain mask, 
 
 Content, tho' blind, had I no better guide. 
 
 The first reply to the Defensio Populi appeared in 1651, and was ascribed to Bishop 
 Brarahall, and by some to Jane, an obscure lawyer of Gray's Inn. Mr. Todd has made the 
 important discovery that its real author was one John Rowland. The anonymous pam- 
 phlet was entitled, " Apologia pro Rege et Populo Anglicano, contra Johannis Polyprag- 
 matici (alias Miltoni Anglo) Defensionem destructivam regis et populi." Philips, Milton's 
 nephew, answered this barbarous production, in a piece which appeared in 1 652, under 
 the title of ** Johannis Philippi Angli Responsio ad Apologiam anonymi cujusdam Tcne- 
 brionis pro Rege et Populo Anglicano infantissimam :" An Answer to a most puerile 
 Apology for the King and People of England, by some anonymous Lurker, by John 
 Philips, an Englishman. Milton was reserving himself for the rumoured retort of Sal- 
 masius. His nephew, when he undertook this reply to a work so far beneath his own no- 
 tice, had not attained his majority ; and as, from internal evidence, there can be little 
 doubt that it was written under his superintendence, it has been always classed among his 
 ^ Prose Works. Its style, energy, latinity, withering sarcasm, are worthy of its real parent- 
 age. It bears the name, but the Philippic was beyond the unassisted powers of the minor. 
 With little that is new in argument, (for what could Rowland do after Salmasius .'') we have 
 the same arguments often newly, powerfully, and even splendidly stated. In personal 
 abuse it surpasses all his other pieces — and directed as it is entirely against an imaginary 
 foe, it is far more ingenious than excusable. The work replied to is excessively offensive 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xxxvii 
 
 in this particular. The Preface to the Responsio states the motives which might have 
 induced Milton to shun, and Philips to undertake, an answer to so contemptible an adver- 
 sary. 
 
 " Such being the character of the man, (the anonymous Lurker,) he was by Milton him- 
 self deservedly neglected and despised : since it was thought by all, unbecoming the dig- 
 nity and choice eloquence of that polished and learned author, to stoop to clear away the 
 ordure, (aderuenda sterquilinia,) to refute the furious gabbling of a miscreant of such un- 
 curbed insolence, and egregious folly (rabidamque loquacitatem tam effraenis atque stulti 
 blateronis refutandam). Lest, however, this empty blusterer should vaunt himself among 
 his own runaways, and imagine that he has vnitten something great, or even that is worth 
 a scanty dinner ; led also by devotion to my country, and by the love of liberty so lately 
 revived amongst us ; bound likewise by many obligations to the man whom he persecutes, 
 and who will ever be held in reverence by me — I could not refrain, though unsolicited, 
 from undertaking to repress the petulance of this senseless fellow. And as the Roman re- 
 cruits of old were accustomed first to exercise themselves with swords and spears against 
 a wooden man, so I, laying aside the rudiments of a wit as yet scarcely bearded, have the 
 confidence that it may be no difficult matter to shar})en my style against this block : for 
 with an adversary so insi})id and ordinary, any one, at the least with a small portion of 
 ability, and a scantling only of erudition, may safely engage without premeditation." 
 (Burnett's Translation.) 
 
 After this, what becomes of a late remark, " that the nameless opponent was exhibited 
 as a man of the most distinguished talents." How dull soever, or how beaten soever, may 
 be both the adversary or the tract of argument, the wit vouchsafed by Milton to his nephew 
 in this pamphlet, is never weary, and the stores of his learning appear inexhaustible. The 
 triumph is never more decisive than when battle is given on the field of former victory. 
 
 Milton took no notice of Sir Robert Filmer's " Animadversions " on the First Defence ; 
 and Hobbes's " Leviathan," the hugest metaphysical monster ever chased through the 
 waters of controversy, he left to perish unscathed in the maelstroom of public abhorrence. 
 These, and scores of other works, were doomed to be dealt with by other hands. But in 
 the same year, 1652, in which they were published, an Answer to the Defence appeared, 
 which, as it abomided in the most atrocious calumnies, and the most unfeeling insolence, 
 the 'Upwivv «:\eo5, was compelled to reassert his country's honour, and to maintain his own. 
 The ignoble libeller, a real compound of the monkey and tiger, was a Frenchman of the 
 name of Du Moulin. His ribald work was written in Latin, printed at the Hague, and 
 entitled, " Regii Sanguinis Clamor ad Ccelum adversus Parricidas Anglicanos :" The Cry 
 of the Royal Blood to Heaven against the English Parricides. This piece of service was 
 ultimately rewarded with a prebendal stall at Canterbury. Such was the scandalous and 
 scurrilous tendency of this work, that its author was afraid to publish it in this country. 
 For this purpose, therefore, he sent it to Salmasius, and this omnivorous pedagogue having 
 gorged its nauseous flattery of himself, (the author even wrote him a grand thanksgiving 
 ode, entitled, " Magno Salmasio pro Defensione Rcgia Ode Eucharistica,") placed the MS. 
 in the hands of his protege, one Moms or More, a migratory Scotchman, then settled in 
 France, and a celebrated protestant preacher of the day, to conduct through the press. 
 More entered heartily into the honourable task, wrote the dedication to the exiled Charles, 
 under the name of Adrian Ulac, (Latin^, Vlaccus,) the printer, and became so mixed up 
 with the work, as to be generally considered as its author. He was the victim of the con- 
 s})iracy against our countrymen — and for a very brief reputation, (of which he certainly 
 made the most while it lasted,) his life was embittered, and his memory covered with infamy. 
 
 A considerable period elapsed between the aggression and the castigation. The friends o€ 
 Salmasius reported that he was busy at the anvil of fabrication, and Milton was determined 
 
xxxTiii INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 to reserve himself for the more jwtent adversary. Tlie deatli of the greater champion, how- 
 ever, making the work whicli More had published of somewhat more importance, Milton 
 was compelled to engage with the inferior author, and in 1654 he produced, in reply, his 
 famous Second Defence — ** Defensio Secunda pro Populo Anglicano, contra infamem 
 LibcUum anonymum, cui litulus, Regii Clamor, &c." The Second Defence of the People 
 of England against the anonymous Libel, entitled, &c. The translation by Robert Fellowes, 
 A. M. Oxon, is a successful performance — though it is not sufficiently close and idiomatic 
 to entitle it to the character of a perfect one. The phraseology is perhaps just as over 
 sonorous, as Walsingham's in the First Defence is flippant and skippish. We certainly 
 want a new version of both. To exaggerate the merits of the original would be impossible. 
 Considering the contemptible character of the opponent's work, the exhaustion of the 
 general subject, and the melancholy catastrophe which had befallen our author, we might 
 almost have augured its inferiority to the reply to Salmasius. It is more sober, but not 
 one jot less powerful, than the First Defence. It is certainly much more entertaining. Its 
 prodigious vehemence is tempered with consummate elegance ; and abounding equally in 
 mse and noble sentiments, simply and energetically expressed, it not unfrequently reminds 
 the reader of the Philippics of the mighty Athenian. Being, with all its successors, the 
 production of a blind man, it may be judged of by the rules of the oratorical art, of which 
 its author was so passionately fond, and his successful cultivation of which, in all its branches, 
 is demonstrated by this, as well as by each of his other works. It was in personal defence 
 against unmerited calumnies, more than in mere political altercation, that the orators of 
 antiquity most successfully distinguished themselves. Milton had now not merely his 
 beloved country for a client, with all the warriors and statesmen who had redeemed her 
 from bondage, but he himself was charged with immoralities and heinous crimes, before 
 the tribunal of the civilized world. The cause of liberty, and the character of her chosen 
 advocate, rise triumphantly from the encounter, and vengeance recoils upon the enemies of 
 the one, and the adversary of the other, with all the majesty which insulted justice 
 could inflict in all the weight of overwhelming eloquence. There is a terrible moral 
 in all this exposure of sacerdotal depravity in More : and, doubtless, many a heart has 
 beaten, and many a face has blushed, under the influence of various emotions, while that 
 indignant page has been read, in which Milton has tracked this clerical debauchee 
 through the paths and into the haunts of depravity ; and then thrown the glare of retri- 
 butive daylight into their recesses. The justifiable personalities of this, and of the next 
 works, have all the coherence of personification about them. More becomes a formal 
 dramatic character — tlie type and representative of a species always numerous in religio- 
 political establishments. The Moms of 1654 is the exact portraiture of one half of those 
 who have been, and in this nineteenth century are, candidates for office in a church which 
 shall be nameless, — a corporeal spirituality under which the land and religion yet groan ; 
 — and the mitred successors of the lowly apostles who are so busily occupied within its 
 hallowed enclosure, not being invested with the power of discerning spirits, can never 
 prevent such men from obtaining their holy orders for admission into that spiritual and 
 temporal vineyard. While the eye of the bishop cannot detect hypocrisy, the palm of his 
 hand possesses the touch of indelibility, and the wand of discipline is broken against the 
 silver crozier. 
 
 The character of our defender was unassailable and unsullied. His heart was as pure as 
 his intellect, and harmoniously did all their powers and passions unite to make up the perfect 
 homogeneousness of this exalted specimen of humanity. All his works illustrate this won- 
 derful permeability, so to speak, of his whole nature — this fine but thorougli articulation of 
 his mental and moral energies — this sublime and perpetual reciprocity and sympathy 
 between all the stores and functions of his soul. The kingdom of his spirit was not divided 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xxxix 
 
 against itself, and with the strictest internal independence, the league of all the provinces, 
 for resistance or conquest, was unbroken, federal, and complete. 
 
 The Second Defence has furnished life-writers with more materials than all his other 
 works put together ; and it has been well gleaned. We have availed ourselves of it, as far 
 as we could, for explanatory, not biographical, purposes ; and we would urge all who are not 
 acquainted with it as a whole, and those who may have imbibed prejudices against the author 
 or his party, to peruse, and pause, and ponder over it as the most ingenuous and interesting 
 of memorials, furnished by one of the greatest and best of men ; — the rock and the quarry, 
 at once furnishing the materials to form, and the munition to jirotect, the edifice of his beau- 
 tiful character. We pass by the exordium, wherein he recounts in the most impassioned 
 style and with fervent gi'atitude, his own and the labours of others on behalf of liberty, and 
 in which with prophetic exultation he tlirows her sacred fires into the heart of the benighted 
 continent ; we pass by the eulogium on the Queen of Sweden, in the lustre of which her 
 crown becomes a bauble ; we pass by the not less magnanimous than magnificent panegy- 
 rick upon Cromwell, in which with consummate art the glowing recital of his achievements 
 is made subservient to the most noble and solemn advice, and the glory of the past gathered 
 up in suspense until the revelation of the future ; we pass by the concluding appeal to 
 his countrymen, which the hearts of the illustrious Protector, and his Ironsides, must have 
 felt, had they been harder than the mail which covered them : we pass by these topics, and 
 others which complete the crown, and constitute the political chann, of the work: — for 
 Milton himself is before us ! and invective and eulogy, the revolutionary storm and the 
 portentous calm, warriors and their prowess, priests and their craft, vanish with the whole 
 motley drama : the man — the patriot — the bard — the Christian — Milton is before us ! 
 
 The Second Defence will ever be considered as the most satisfactory refutation of those 
 calumnies and reproaches, whicli have been so industriously heaped upon its writer, and the 
 men with whom he acted. No one who knows any thing of the character of Milton, would 
 presume to accuse him of profligacy of principle, either in serving the council, or Cromwell, 
 They with whom he condescended to co-operate, did their utmost to place the government 
 on a safe, liberal, and lasting basis ; and though the issue of their endeavours was unfortu- 
 nate, few, now-a-days, will question their abilities in the council and in the field, in peace 
 and in war ; or their sincere devotion to the glory and welfare of their country. 
 
 The influence of the Second Defence upon public opinion was wonderful. Moms denied 
 the authorship, and published his " Fides Publica ;" to which Milton replied in that most 
 tremendous of all castigations — " Authoris pro se Defensio contra Alexandrum Morum, 
 Ecclesiastcn :" The Author's Defence of himself against Alexander More, Ecclesiastic. 
 It is almost a merciless retaliation on poor More ; and perhaps the severest, acutest, wittiest 
 specimen of retort or reply on record, Milton's detestation of vice is only equal to the 
 dreadless majesty with which he exposes it. The Latin language, with all its mechanical 
 stubbornness, is perfectly ductile to his will — it melts to his touch, and moulds itself into a 
 fiery essence to do his bidding, and express, like an " airy servitor," the least or the greatest 
 emotions. He was an incomparable reviewer. Nothing escapes him — and he avoids no- 
 thing ; — he always rushes into the midst of the combat, and he comes out of the hottest melee 
 unscathed, and even unbrealhed. More was compelled to another struggle ; his answer was 
 again briefly refuted by Milton in a piece entitled, " Authoris ad Alexandri Mori Supplemen- 
 tum Responsio :" The Author's Answer to the Supplement of Alexander More : and so 
 ended the controversy ; and like the last of every thing, its end is affecting. These poli- 
 tical writings, so distinguished by every grace and glory of rhetorick, carried the celebrity of 
 their author's name and cause to the very bounds of classic Europe. The fights are over — 
 the victories won — one adversary after another silenced — the Salmasian controversy con- 
 cluded : that volcano, with its noisy craters, is extinct — the lava is as cold as the Arctic 
 
xl INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 snows — and we have seen a mighty genius acting upon the sky-ward eruption, like the law 
 of gravitation ; and the higher the burning fragments of rage and vituperation may 
 have been thrown, the more hideous falls on the earth-bom head that ruin of which we have 
 witnessed the recoil. 
 
 The death of Cromwell took place on the 3rd of September, 1659 : on that day, it is ob- 
 sen'able, he was born ; on that day he fought the three great battles of Marston-Moor, 
 Worcester, and Dunbar; and on that day he died, in the peaceable possession of the sove- 
 reign power. The uncorruptible patriotism of Milton led him to retain office under this 
 usurper — the greatest man that ever sat on an English throne. Hope that he would be able 
 to reconstnict the commonwealth, fear that in case of his desertion the hateful dynasty 
 would be restored, and a desire to maintain the honour of his country abroad, may have 
 been the considerations which led our author, with all his republican predilections, to render 
 the Protector his assistance and support. Grievously, however, must he have been disap- 
 pointed ; not more perhaps by some things which Cromwell did, than by what he left 
 undone ; — but the conduct of the four factions hardly left him any leisure from curbing their 
 insolence, and defeating their machinations. Milton was not the only distinguished servant 
 of Cromwell — Hale served him as chief justice; Howe and Owen officiated as his chap- 
 lains ; and Blake refused not to wield the truncheon of the navy under him. 
 
 Milton's two next works are valuable additions to our ample stores of what may be termed 
 the literature of ecclesiastical liberty. Devoted to the consideration of two opposite evils, 
 by which the church has always been afflicted or corrupted, two potent words, force and 
 HIRE, comprise the scope of both of these sound and able pamphlets. The first treatise 
 relates to the exercise of force against conscience ; the last to the equally dangerous exer- 
 cise of political power or patronage in favour of any religious system. By the fonner, " A 
 Treatise of Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes ; shewing, that it is not lawful for any 
 Power on Earth to compel in Matters of Religion ;" and by the latter, " Considerations 
 touching the likeliest Means to remove Hirelings out of the Church ; wherein is also discoursed 
 of Tythes, Church-fees, and Church-revenues ; and whether any Maintenance of Ministers 
 can be settled by Law ;" we may consider the great political principle of absolute non- 
 interference by the magistrate for or against Christianity (except on grounds of purely civil 
 emergency, or expediency, or necessity) to be triumphantly settled and fundamentally estab- 
 lished. They were both published, with an interval of a few months, in the year 1659. 
 One was addressed to the parliament convened by Richard Cromwell; the other, the doctrines 
 of which yet remain to be realized, was inscribed to the Long Parliament : both the pieces, 
 though their author retained his Latin secretaryship, w'ere private and unofficial. " 1 write 
 not otherwise appointed or induced than by an inward persuasion of Christian duty, which I 
 may usefully discharge to the common Lord and Master of us all." This was an important 
 declaration. Milton was an avowed, and, on the subject of church-government, a thorough, 
 independent. He was then addressing the presbyterians, w ho were as averse to toleration 
 as ever were the episcopalians. The only real quarrel which these men had with Cromwell 
 was, that he would not establish them ; that he would not lend them his mighty arm to put 
 down all other sectaries, and set up their Scotch inquisition, enforce their synodical censures, 
 and place them in paramount possession of all the benefices and emoluments of the English, 
 Scotch, and Irish hierarchies. This party, with the royalists, and the army, were now on 
 the eve of making good the great usurper's prophecy, that, after his death, they would bring 
 all things into confusion. The independents were not strong enough to cut through this " ill- 
 united and unwieldy brigade ;" and the mere multitude were incapable of estimating the 
 dangers of a restoration, or the blessings of a commonwealth. Our politic author determined 
 to avail himself of the last moments of expiring liberty, which he had "used these eighteen 
 years on all occasions to assert the just rights and freedoms both of church and state ;" and 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xli 
 
 in the pamphlets before us, he strikes a two-handed blow at that system of " force " and 
 " hire," of intolerance and patronage, in matters of religion, out of which have arisen nearly 
 all the convulsions of modern Europe. Both the works are written with beautiful simpli- 
 city and earnestness. The divine right and the political expediency of tithes are examined 
 and refuted at gieat length, and with amazing learning and ingenuity. The pith and marrow 
 of the argument, the strength and nerve of the language, will be found to contain all that is 
 necessary, and all that might have been expected. Let it be remembered that he inter- 
 rupted his four great works — his Poem, his History, his Latin Thesaurus, and his Theologi- 
 cal Treatise — to write these two manuals. We particularly invite the immediate attention 
 of our countrymen to the last of the two tracts. " In matters of religion," says our author, 
 " he is leamedest who is plainest. The brevity I use, not exceeding a small manual, will 
 not tlierefore I suppose be thought the less considerable, unless with them perhaps who think 
 that gieat books only can determine great matters." Tnith must triumph. We enjoy tole- 
 ration, as it is insultingly styled ; but we are yet to witness the utter subversion of intole- 
 rance, by the severance of the church from the state. Richard Cromwell soon abdicated 
 his brief authority. For near two years after Cromwell's death, the government of Eng- 
 land underwent various shapes, and every month almost produced a new scheme. The 
 current of popular opinion ran strongly towards monarchy. The protestations of Monk, 
 indeed, and the existence of the Long Parliament, in which there were few royalists and 
 near fifty or sixty republicans, might support the 'faint hopes of the commonwealth-men. 
 But Milton, as we find from his " Letter to a Friend concerning the Ruptures of the Common- 
 wealth," dated Oct. 20, 1659, expresses his indignation at the outrages of the army, and his 
 gloomy apprehensions for the future. Soon after, he addressed a letter to General Monk, 
 entitled, " The present Means and brief Delineation of a free Commonwealth." Both these 
 letters are very short, and hardly occupy two pages of this edition. A few months after- 
 Avards, he addressed General Monk again, in a more masterly production, " The ready and 
 easy Way to establish a free Commonwealth, and the Excellence thereof, compared with 
 the Inconveniences and Dangers of readmitting Kingship in this Nation." The motto to tliis 
 performance, hinting probably at the advice which he had publicly given to the Protector, 
 
 " et nos 
 Consilium Syllse dedimus, demus populo nunc," 
 
 is as happy as his present coimsel was opportune. With many evident inconsistencies, 
 which will be easily excused, when we consider his own and the peril of his party, there is 
 much to commend and more to admire. It is full of splendid writing and powerful anti- 
 monarchical appeal. It was replied to both sportively and seriously, but not answered. 
 
 The last of Milton's controversial productions was, " Brief Notes upon a late Sermon, 
 titled. The Fear of God and the King; preached, and since published, by Matthew Griffith, 
 D. D. and Chaplain to the late King. Wherein many notorious wrestings of Scripture, and 
 other Falsities, are observed." On the ver}^ eve of the Restoration he avows his republican- 
 ism. The insolent L'Estrange Avrote a reply, entitled, " No Blind Guides." 
 
 A volume might be devoted to the critical examination of his letters, both private and 
 official, on account both of their political and literary excellence. They are all \vritten in 
 Latin. There are thirty-one private ones — forty-three are written in the name of the par- 
 liament — seventy-eight in the name of the Protector Oliver — eleven in the name of the 
 Protector Richard — and in the name of the " Parliament Restored," two only were written. 
 The private letters will very much interest the reader. Those to his Athenian friend 
 are noble and affecting, and in a biographical point of view, exceedingly valuable. It 
 is to be regretted that so few epistles of so extensive a correspondent should have been 
 handed down to posterity. It is probable that most of his correspondents were foreigners. 
 The official letters are much more numerous. Milton was an universal genius, and it would 
 
xlii INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. 
 
 be difficult to predicate his failure in any undertaking in which learning or sagacity, wis- 
 dom or common sense, could insure success. It is a maxim in the mouth of the many, 
 degrading to all who are above the level of mediocrity, and therefore reiterated by those 
 whom the decree of nature has placed below it, that, with the ordinary or extraordinary 
 business of life, the man of science or genius, the philosopher or scholar, cannot meddle 
 without making himself as ridiculous, as his interference must be prejudicial to the interests 
 intrusted to him. This radical blunder has been acted upon in all ages ; nor need we 
 wonder at the remark of a certain chancellor to his son : " See, with what little wit the 
 world is governed !" Not so thought Oliver Cromwell. His selection of servants in all the 
 departments of government, was very honourable to himself, and the mainspring of his suc- 
 cess in war and peace, in foreign and domestic policy. Had Milton left nothing else in 
 prose but these letters, we should have considered them as proofs of his great capacity for 
 business. No mechanical drudge could have written them. With all his ardour of tem- 
 perament he had an amazing share of " sound round-about common sense " — warmed by 
 per\ading genius into a nobler power. We need not point out the historical value of these 
 exquisite models of negociation and composition. The foreign policy of the commonwealth 
 cannot be well understood without an acquaintance with them. 
 
 The juvenile Latin productions of Milton may be mentioned here — to recommend them 
 merely, for to examine them minutely would be impossible. They are remarkable for 
 felicity and correctness ; for masculine energy, and ripeness of thought, and occasional 
 splendour of expression ; and as they show by what laborious industry and indefatigable 
 perseverance our countryman realized the utmost excellence which these writings pro- 
 mised, they should be pointed out to the attention of every youth. In fact, selections from 
 his Latin works, for the use of the higher schools, should immediately be made : they would 
 not interfere with the more ancient classics, which they rival, but would necessarily stimu- 
 late to their imitation ; and, mingled with a few judicious extracts from his English prose, 
 to be translated into Latin or Greek, or to be used as exercises in recitation, the effect upon 
 youths of a proper age, under a teacher worthy of being intrusted with some such plan, 
 would be incredibly beneficial. 
 
 Milton's Latin Grammar, (1661,) and his Logic, (1672,) prove his deep interest in all 
 that related to education. The fonner has been superseded, but the latter (with the inte- 
 resting life prefixed to it) will always be regarded as a sound and useful system for dis- 
 covering truth. 
 
 We conclude our task. No political actor ever performed a more distinguished part on 
 a more elevated stage, than John Milton ; nor, assuredly, did one ever retire from it so 
 suddenly. Another and far different part of the great drama came on. A Stuart monarch 
 was seated on the throne, and we hear no more of our politician. He was spared by Provi- 
 dence, not by royal clemency. What a change from the blaze of public life to the refuge 
 of obscurity ! It was an outward change only — made certainly more distressing by public 
 ingratitude and private neglect, by the helplessness of blindness and poverty, and the 
 increasing miseries of " crude old age." But, supported by celestial manna, and invigorated 
 by the illumining Spirit, " the joy and solace of created things," his intellectual strength was 
 more than equal to his day. " The troubled sea of noises and hoarse disputes," on which 
 he had been embarked, and on which he had been wrecked, was now exchanged for the 
 final haven of" a calm and pleasing solitariness, fed with cheerful and confident thoughts ;" 
 — and soon he sent forth his immortal poems— the " Paradise Lost" — and " Paradise Re- 
 gained !" It is sufficient to mention them ! His beautiful " Treatise of True Religion, 
 Heresy, Schism, Toleration, and the best means that may be used to prevent the growth 
 of Popery," had not been long published, when he died, in the year 1674, and in the six 
 and sixtieth of his age. 
 
INTRODUCTORY REVIEW. xliii 
 
 We have only glanced at the contents of this volume. Of itself it is moi'e than sufficient 
 to enable us to form a correct estimate of the literary, political, and religious character of 
 John Milton. Taken in connexion with his poetical works, it will be impossible to produce 
 an author entitled to superior veneration and renown. Equally resplendent in the annals of 
 liberty and of song, the name of the author of these writings is a sufficient guarantee 
 for their interest to the scholar, their value to the politician, and their utility to every 
 patriotic Christian. They are now cast into a proper shape for circulation, and wherever 
 carried, they will administer not less to the delight and profit, than to the intellectual and 
 moral wants and necessities, of the age. In them will be found nothing dangerous or 
 anarchical — dishonourable or polluting. The monarch will not here find any thing to de- 
 rogate from his just authority. His nobles will here learn true magnanimity — his people 
 be built up in love to their country and to himself, and in " willing homage to the preroga- 
 tive of the Eternal Throne." The man of taste will be refreshed—the protestant will rejoice 
 in the paramount allegiance of the poet to the great principles of the Reformation. The least 
 will find that he may be useful — the greatest, that he may be worthless ; — the most ignorant 
 will here find an "eye-brightening electuary of knowledge and foresight" — the most 
 learned, that his superior condescended to be most plain. These are the authorized works 
 o[ a man, who never quailed before a tyrant, or bowed before a mob ; but, after exerting 
 the greatest abilities in the greatest of causes, in fortitude, and meekness, and patience 
 possessed his spirit, and became, in adversity and prosperity, an exemplar for a nation of 
 " heroes, of sages, and of worthies." 
 
 England is invested with supremacy in literature. She is not indebted for her imperial 
 precedency to many of her sons. Great as is the number of her gigantic minds, two men 
 she has reared and ripened, Milton and Shakspeare, whose achievements alone have raised 
 her to a towering pre-eminence among the nations. Neither the ancients nor the modems 
 can match these Englishmen. Make the selection from any age, from the bright eras of 
 the past, from the Greek or Roman constellations, to the later luminaries, and theirs will be 
 found to be the brightest names that old Time wears in his gorgeous belt. , To them an 
 Englishman points, and by them settles the supremacy of his country. Without them we 
 might claim equality with other kingdoms; with them we are entitled to superiority. When 
 you think of England, you think of Shakspeare — you think of Milton — they are England. 
 Other nations have heroes, and philosophers, and critics, and scholars, and divines, equal to 
 our own, but they have not Shakspeare and Milton ; — we have, and surpass them. Nature 
 gave them to England, and no reverse of fortune can rob us of them. Their works are 
 landmarks, pillars of truth, on these the high places of the earth — and they will be identified 
 with our soil, when our institutions may have been swept from it, and when our political 
 supremacy may have passed away. But, with their works in our hands, and with our Bible, 
 read, and believed, and revered, and upheld, in cottage and in palace, we need not fear the 
 loss of our heritage — the luxury that enfeebles — the vice that enslaves — the wealth that 
 coiTupts — the anarchy that overwhelms : — intelligence and piety, wisdom, and religion, and 
 power, will be cherished and perpetuated for generations ; — and with those who love these 
 things, and bear the ark of British freedom, we leave, for their guidance and delight, this 
 Book. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Paoi 
 
 linmoDvcToiiY Rivirw i 
 
 Of Reforniation touching Church DLiciprme in Englnud. and the 
 causes that hitherto have hindered it : iu two Books, written to a 
 Friend 1 
 
 Of Prelatical Epiacopacy. and whether it may be deduced from the 
 ApoatoUcal Times, by virtue of those Testimonies which are alleged 
 to that purpose in some late Treatises ; one whereof goes under the 
 
 Name of James Archbishop of Armagh 22 
 
 > The Reason of Church Government urged against Prelaty. In two ' 
 
 Books 28 
 
 Animadversions upon the Remonstrant's Defence against Smectym- 
 
 QUUS ^^ 
 
 An Apology for Smectymnuus 75 
 
 -r:T Of Education; to MasUr Samuel Hartlib 98' 
 
 VOAacorAOiTicA; a Speech for the Liberty of unlicensed Printing, to 
 
 the Parliament of England 103 
 
 j/ The Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce restored to the good of both 
 Sexes, from the Bondage of Canon Law. and other Mistakes, to the 
 true Meaning of Scripture in the Law and Gospel compared, &c. . 120 
 
 The Judgment of Martin Bucer concerning Divorce : written to Ed- 
 ward the Sixth, in his second Book of the Kingdom of Christ, &c. . 159 
 
 TrniACBOKOoM : Expositions npon the four chief Places in Scripture 
 wfaichtreat of Marriage, or Nullities in Marriage, &c 175 
 
 CoLASTKBiON : A Reply to a nameless Answer against the Doctrine 
 and Discipline of Divorce : wherein the trivial Author of that An- 
 swer is discovered, the Licenser conferred with, and the Opinion, 
 
 vibieb they traduce, defended 220 
 
 *^ The Tenure of Kings and Magistrates ; proving, that it is lawful, and 
 hath been held so through all Ages, for any, who have the Power, 
 to call to account a Tyrant, or wicked King, and, after due Convic- 
 tion, to depose, and put him to Death, if the ordinary Magistrate 
 have neglected, or denied to do it, &c 231 
 
 Observations on the Articles of Peace between James Earl of Or- 
 mtooA. for King Charles the First, on the one hand, and the Irish 
 Rebels and Papists on the other hand : and on a Letter sent by 
 Ormood to Colooet Jones, Governor of Dul>lin : and a Representa- 
 lion of the ScoU Presbytery at Belfast iu Ireland. To which the 
 •aid Articlet, Letter, with Colonel Jones's Answer to it. and Repre- 
 
 iOBtatioa.Jkc., are prefixed t45 
 
 f EiKOHOcLAsnts : In answer to a Book, entitled, Eikop Itasilike, the 
 
 Portraiture of his sacred MtieHy in his Solitudes and l^ufferings . . 272 
 
 A DtrsHcK of the People of England, in answer to Salmasius's De- 
 fence of the King 338 
 
 A Treatise of Civil Power in Ecclesiastical Causes : showing, that it is 
 Mt lawftil for any Power oo Earth to compel in Matters of Re- 
 Ug»o» 411 
 
 C o w it d i rmwM loodiing the likeliest Means to remove Hirelings out 
 of tbs Ctwrdi. Itc 423 
 
 A Letter to a Friend, concerning the Ruptures of the Commonwealth . 439 
 
 The present Means and brief Delineation of a fre« Commonwealth, 
 easy to be put in practice, and without delay. In a Letter to 
 General Monk 441 
 
 Tbs iMdy ud twy Way to sstebliah a free Commonwealth, and Um 
 EnsDtaes thsnoT, eompsred with the Inconveniences and Dangen 
 of I — mtriWiin Klafriilp in this Nation 442 
 
 Brief NoCss npon a late Sermon, titled, " The Fear of CkxI and the 
 King," preached, and since published, by Matthew Griffith. D. D. 
 •ad Ctiaplalo toUte late Khig. wherein many notorious Wrestinp of 
 Scripture, and otiwr Falsities, are observed 453 
 
 Aecsdenc* coniincBC«4 Grammar ; supplied with sufficient Rules for 
 
 Paui 
 the Use of such as, younger or elder, are desirous, without more 
 Trouble than needs, to attain the Latin Tongue ; the elder sort es- 
 pecially with little Teaching, and their own Industry 455 
 
 Tlie History of Britain, that Part especially now called England; 
 from the first traditional Beginning, continued to the Norman Con- 
 quest. Collected out of the ancientest and best Authors thereof. "^ 
 Published from a Copy corrected by the Author himself .... 475 
 
 Of true Religion, Heresy, Schism, Toleration, and what best Means 
 may be used against the Growth of Popery. Printed in the year 
 1673 562 
 
 A brief History of Moscovia, and of other less known Countries lying 
 Eastward of Russia, as far as Cathay, gathered from the writings 
 of several Eye-witnesses 568 
 
 A Declaration, or Letters Patents for the Election of John the Third, 
 King of Poland, elected on the 22iid of May, Anno Doni. 1674. con- 
 taining the Reasons of this Election, the great Virtues and Merits of 
 the said serene Hect, his eminent Ser\-ices in War, especially in 
 his last great Victory against the Turks and Tartars ; whereof many 
 Particulars are here related, not published before 583 
 
 Letters of State to most of the Sovereign Princes and Republics of 
 Europe, during the Administration of the Commonwealth, and the 
 Protectors Oliver and Richard Cromwell 587 
 
 Letters written in the Name of the Parliament ibid. 
 
 Letters written in the Name of Oliver the Protector fl03 
 
 Letters written in the Name of Richard the Protector 634 
 
 A Manifesto of the Lord Protector, against the Spaniards ''i39 
 
 Johannis Miltoni Opera omnia Latina ^7 
 
 Defensio pro Populo AngUcano, contra ClaudU Anonymi, alias Sal- 
 masii Defonsioncm regiam 649 
 
 Defensio Secunda pro Populo Anglicano contra infamem Libellum 
 anonymum cui titulus, " Regii Sanguinis Clamor ad Coelum, adver- 
 sus Parricidas Anglicanos " 707 
 
 Authoris pro se Defensio contra Alexandrum Morum Ecclesiasten, 
 Libelli funiosi, cui titulus, " Regii Sanguinis Clamor ad Ccelum ad- 
 versus Parricidas Anglicanos," Authorem recte dictum 733 
 
 Authoris ad Alexandri Mori Supplementum Responsio 755 
 
 Joannis Philippi Angli Responsio ad Apologiam anonymi cujusdam 
 Tenebrionis pro Regefii Populo Anglicano infantissiiram .... 763 
 
 Literte Senatus Anglican! nomine ac jussu conscripts 777 
 
 LilerK Oliverii Protectoris nomine scriptas 792 
 
 LiterjB Richardi Protectoris nomine script* 819 
 
 Literte Pariamenti Restituti nomine scriptie 821 
 
 Scriptum Dom. Protectoris Reipublicte Angliie, Scot a- . Hibemia;. &c. 
 
 ex consensu atque sententii Concilii sui Editum : in quo hujus Rei- 
 
 publicae Causa contra Hispanosjusta esse demonstralur .... 823 
 
 Autoris Epistolarum Faniiliarum Liber unus : Quibus aecesserunt 
 
 ejusdem Jam olim in Collegio Adolescentis Prolusiones qutedara 
 
 Oratoriae 830 
 
 Prolusiones quKdam Oratoris 843 
 
 Artis Logicae plenior Institutio ad Petri Rami Methoduni concinnata, 
 adJecU est Praxis Analytica b. Petri Rami Vita, Libris duobus . . 859 
 
 Praxis Logica analytica ex Dounamo 915 
 
 Petri Rami ViU 9|6 
 
 The Second Defence of the People of England, against an anonymous 
 Libel, entitled. '• The royal Blood cryiitg to Heaven for Vengeance 
 
 on the English Parricides " 919 
 
 Familiar Epistles 950 
 
 General Index 955 
 
THE 
 
 PROSE WORKS OF JOHN MILTON. 
 
 OF 
 
 REFORMATION IN ENGLAND, 
 
 AND 
 
 THE CAUSES THAT HITHERTO HAVE HINDERED IT. 
 
 IN TWO BOOKS. 
 
 WRITTEN TO A FRIEND. 
 
 [riKlT rUILIIBID 1641.] 
 
 Sir, 
 Amidst those deep and retired thoug^hts, which, with 
 every man christianly instructed, ought to be most fre- 
 quent of God, and of his miraculous ways and works 
 amongst men, and of our religion and works, to be 
 performed to him ; after the story of our Saviour Christ, 
 suffering to the lowest bent of weakness in the flesh, 
 and presently triumphing to the highest pitch of glory 
 in the spirit, which drew up^iis body also ; till we in 
 both be united to him in the revelation of his kingdom, 
 I do not know of any thing more worthy to take up 
 the whole passion of pity on the one side, and joy on 
 the other, than to consider first the foul and sudden 
 corruption, and then, after many a tedious age, the 
 long deferred, but much more wonderful and happy 
 reformation of the church in these latter days. Sad it 
 is to think how that doctrine of the gospel, planted by 
 teachers divinely inspired, and by them winnowed and 
 sifted from the chaff of overdatcd ceremonies, and re- 
 fined to such a spiritual height and temper of purity, 
 and knowledge of the Creator, that the body, with all 
 the circumstances of time and place, were purified by 
 the affections of the regenerate soul, and nothing left 
 impure but sin ; faith needing not the weak and fal- 
 lible office of the senses, to be either the ushers or in- 
 terpreters of heavenly mysteries, save where our Lord 
 himself in his sacraments ordained ; that such a doc- 
 trine should, through the grossness and blindness of 
 her professors, and the fraud of deceivable traditions, 
 drag so downwards, as to backslide into the Jewish 
 beggary of old cast rudiments, and stumble forward 
 
 another way into the new-vomited paganism of sen- 
 sual idolatry, attributing purity or impurity to things 
 indiflTerent, that they might bring the inward acts of 
 the spirit to the outward and customary eye-service 
 of the body, as if they could make God earthly and 
 fleshly, because they could not make themselves hea- 
 venly and spiritual ; they began to draw down all the 
 divine intercouree betwixt God and the soul, yea, the 
 very shape of God himself, into an exterior and bodily 
 form, urgently pretending a necessity and obligement 
 of joining the body in a formal reverence, and worship 
 circumscribed ; they hallowed it, they fumed it, they 
 sprinkled it, they bedecked it, not in robes of pure in- 
 nocency, but of pure linen, with other deformed and 
 fantastic dressc.N, in palls and mitres, gold, and gew- 
 gaws fetched from Aaron's old wardrobe, or the flamins 
 vestry : then was the priest set to con his motions and 
 his postures, his liturgies and his lurries, till the soul 
 by this means of overbodying herself, given up justly 
 to fleshly delights, bated her wing apace downward : 
 and finding the ease she had from her visible and sen- 
 suous colleague the body, in performance of religious 
 duties, her pinions now broken, and flagging, shifted 
 off from herself the labour of high soaring any more, 
 forgot her heavenly flight, and left the dull and droil- 
 ing carcase to plod on in the old road, and drudging 
 trade of outward conformity. And here out of question 
 from her perverse conceiting of God and holy things, 
 she had fallen to believe no God at all, had not custom 
 and the worm of conscience nipped her incredulity : 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 ,heU6i;1in fi}i. iln" (.Itilies of tvaiiffcHcal grace, insteail of 
 • tie adoplire and chcerlui boldness which our new al- 
 liance with God requires, came servile and thrallike 
 fear: for in very deed, the superstitious man by his 
 grood will is an atlieist; but being scared from thence 
 by the pangs and gripes of a boiling conscience, all in 
 a pudder shuffles up to himself such a God and such a 
 worship as is most agreeable to remedy his fear ; which 
 fear of hLs, as also is his hope, fixed only upon tbe 
 flesh, renders likewise the whole faculty of bis appre- 
 hension carnal ; and all the inward acts of worship, 
 issuing from the native strength of the soul, run out 
 lavishly to the upper skin, and there harden into a 
 crust of formality. Hence men came to scan the Scrip- 
 tures by tbe letter, and in the covenant of our redemp- 
 tion, magnified the external signs more than the quick- 
 ening power of tbe Spirit ; and yet looking on tbem 
 through their own guiltiness with a servile fear, and 
 finding as little comfort, or rather terrour from them 
 again, they knew not how to hide their slavish approach 
 to Gotl's behests, by them not understood, nor worthily 
 received, but by cloaking their servile crouching to all 
 religious presentments, sometimes lawful, sometimes 
 idolatrous, under the name of bumUity, and terming the 
 piebald frippery and ostentation of ceremonies, decency. 
 
 Then was baptism, changed into a kind of exorcism 
 and water, sanctified by Christ's institute, thought lit- 
 tle enough to wash off the original spot, without the 
 scratch or cross impression of a priest's forefinger : and 
 that feast of free grace and adoption to which Christ 
 invited his disciples to sit as brethren, and coheirs of 
 the happy covenant, which at that table was to be 
 sealed to them, even that feast of love and heavenly- 
 admitted fellowship, the seal of filial grace, became the 
 subject of hoiTor, and glouting adoration, pageanted 
 about like a dreadful idol ; which sometimes deceives 
 well-meaning men, and beguiles them of their reward, 
 by their voluntary humility ; which indeed is fleshly 
 pride, preferring a foolish sacrifice, and the rudiments 
 of the world, as Saint Paul to the Colossians explain- 
 etb, before a savoury obedience to Christ's example.^ 
 Such was Peter's unseasonable humility, as then his 
 knowledge was small, when Christ came to wash his 
 feet; who at an impertinent time would needs strain 
 courtesy with his master, and falling troublesomely 
 upon the lowly, all-wise, and unexaminable intention 
 of Christ, in what he went with resolution to do, so 
 provoked by his interruption the meek Ix)rd, that he 
 tfamtened to exclude him from his heavenly jwrtion, 
 onlcM be could be content to be less arrogant and stiff- 
 necked in his humility. 
 
 But to dwell no longer in characterizing the depra- 
 vities of the church, and how tlicy sprung, and bow 
 they took increase ; when I recall to mind at last, after 
 so many dark ages, wherein the huge overshadowing 
 train of error had almost swept all tbe stars out of the 
 firmament of the church ; bow the bright and blissful 
 reformation (by divine power) struck through tbe black 
 and settled night of ignorance and antichristian ty- 
 ranny, methinks a sovereign and reviving joy must 
 needs rush into the lK)8om of him that reads or bears ; 
 
 and tbe sweet odour of the returning gospel imbathe 
 his soul with the fragrancy of heaven. Then was the 
 sacred Bible sought out of the dusty comers where 
 profane falsehood and neglect had thrown it, the schools 
 opened, divine and human learning raked out of the 
 embers of forgotten tongues, the princes and cities 
 trooping apace to the new-erected banner of salvation; 
 the martyrs, with tbe unresistible might of weakness, 
 shaking the powers of darkness, and scorning the fiery 
 rage of the old red dragon. 
 
 The pleasing pursuit of these thoughts hath ofttimes 
 led me into a serious question and debatement with 
 myself, how it should come to pass that England (hav- 
 ing had this grace and honour from God, to be the first 
 that should set up a standard for the recovery of lost 
 truth, and blow the first evangelic trumpet to the 
 nations, holding up, as from a hill, the new lamp of 
 saving light to all Christendom) should now be last, 
 and most unsettled in the enjoyment of that peace, 
 whereof she taught the way to others; although indeed 
 our Wickliffe's preaching, at which all the succeeding 
 reformers more effectually lighted their tapers, was to 
 his countrymen but a short blaze, soon damped and 
 stifled by the pope and prelates for six or seven kings' 
 reigns ; yet methinks the precedency which God gave 
 this island, to be first restorer of buried truth, should 
 have been followed with more happy success, and 
 sooner attained perfection ; in which as yet we are 
 amongst the last : for, albeit in purity of doctrine we 
 agree with our brethren ; yet in discipline, which is 
 the execution and applying of doctrine home, and lay- 
 ing the salve to the very orifice of the wound, yea, 
 tenting and searching to the core, without which pulpit 
 preaching is but shooting at rovere ; in this we are no 
 better than a schism from all the reformation, and a 
 sore scandal to them : for while we hold ordination to 
 belong only to bishops, as our prelates do, we must of 
 necessity bold also their ministers to be no ministers, 
 and shortly after their cliMTch to be no church. Not to 
 speak of those senseless ceremonies which we only re- 
 tain, as a dangerous earnest of sliding back to Rome, 
 and serving merely, either as a mist to cover nakedness 
 ^-where true grace is extinguished, or as an interlude to 
 set out the pomp of prelatism. Certainly it would be 
 worth the while therefore, and the pains, to inquire 
 more particularly, what, and how many the chief causes 
 have been, that have still hindered our uniform consent 
 to the rest of the churches abroad, at this time especially 
 when the kingdom is in a good propensity thereto, and 
 all men in prayers, in hopes, or in disputes, either for 
 or against it. 
 
 Yet I will not insist on that which may seem to be 
 the cause on God's part ; as his judgment on our sins, 
 the trial of his own, the unmasking of hypocrites: nor 
 shall I stay to speak of the continual eagerness and 
 extreme diligence of the pope and papists to stop tin 
 furtherance of reformation, which know they have ni 
 hold or hope of England their lost darling, longer than 
 the government of bishops bolsters them out; and 
 therefore plot all they can to uphold them, as may In 
 seen by the book of Santa Clara, the popish priest, in 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 defence of bishops, which came out pipings hot much 
 about the time that one of our own prelates, out of an 
 ominous fear, had writ on the same argument ; as if 
 tJiey liad joined their forces, like good confederates, to 
 support one falling Babel. 
 
 But I shall chiefly endeavour to declare those causes 
 that hinder the forwarding of true discipline, which 
 are among ourselves. Orderly proceeding will divide 
 our inquiry into our forefathers' days, and into our 
 times. Henry VIII was the first that rent this king- 
 dom from the pope's subjection totally ; but his quarrel 
 being more about supremacy, than other faultiness in 
 religion that he regarded, it is no marvel if he stuck 
 where he did. The next default was in the bishops, 
 who thougli they had renounced the pope, they still 
 hugged the popedom, and shared the authority among 
 themselves, by their six bloody articles, persecuting the 
 protestants no slacker than the pope would have done. 
 And doubtless, whenever the pope shall fall, if his ruin 
 be not like the sudden downcome of a tower, the bishops, 
 when they see him tottering, will leave him, and fall 
 to scrambling, catch who may, he a patriarchdom, and 
 another what comes next hand; as the French cardinal 
 of late and the see of Canterbury bath plainly affected. 
 
 In Edward the Sixth's days, why a complete reform- 
 ation was not effected, to any c(tnsiderate man may 
 appear. First, he no sooner entered into his kingdom, 
 but into a war with Scotland ; from whence the pro- 
 tector returning with victory, had but newly put his 
 hand to repeal the six articles, and throw the images 
 out of churches, but rebellions on all sides, stirred up 
 by obdurate papists, and other tumults, with a plain 
 war in Norfolk, holding tack against two of the king's 
 generals, made them of force content themselves with 
 what they had already done. Hereupon followed 
 ambitious contentions among the peers, which ceased 
 not but with the protector's death, who was the most 
 zealous in this point: and then Northumberland was 
 he that could do most in England, who little minding 
 religion, (as his apostasy well showed at his death,) bent 
 all his wit how to bring the right of the crown into his 
 own line. And for the bishops, they were so far from 
 any such worthy attempts, as that they suffered them- 
 selves to be the common stales, to countenance with 
 their prostituted gravities every politic fetch that was 
 then on foot, as oft as the potent statists pleased to 
 employ them. Never do we read that they made use 
 of their authority and high place of access, to bring 
 the jarring nobility to christian peace, or to withstand 
 their disloyal projects : but if a toleration for mass 
 were to be begged of the king for his sister Mary, lest 
 Charles tlie Fifth should be angry ; who but the grave 
 prelates, Cranmer and Ridley, must be sent to extort 
 it from the young king ? But out of the mouth of that 
 godly and royal child, Christ himself returned such an 
 awful repulse to those halting and timeserving prelates, 
 that after much bold importunity, they went their way 
 not without shame and tears. 
 
 Nor was this the first time that they discovered to 
 
 • It appf iirs from this and other passages, that the author in his younger 
 years v/»^ orlhodo<i, iis it is railed : but he afterwards altered Ins seuti- 
 
 be followers of this world ; for when the protector's 
 brother. Lord Sudley, the admiral, through private 
 malice and malengine was to lose his life, no man 
 could be found fitter than bishop Latimer (like another 
 Dr. Shaw) to divulge in his sermon the forged accusa- 
 tions laid to his charge, thereby to defame him with 
 the people, who else it was thought would take ill the 
 innocent man's death, unless the reverend bishop could 
 warrant them there was no foul play. What could be 
 more impious than to debar the children of the king 
 from their right to the crown ? To comply with the 
 ambitious usurpation of a traitor, and to make void the 
 last will of Henry VIII, to which the breaker had 
 sworn observance .' Yet bishop Cranmer, one of the 
 executors, and the other bishops, none refusing, (lest 
 they should resist the duke of Northumberland,) could 
 find in their consciences to set their hands to the dis- 
 enabling and defeating not only of Princess Mary the 
 papist, but of Elizabeth the protestant, and (by the 
 bishops' judgment) the lawful issue of King Henry, 
 
 Who then can think (though these prelates had 
 sought a further reformation) that the least wry face of 
 a politician would not have hushed them ? But it will 
 be said, these men were martyrs : what then ? tliough 
 every true Christian will be a martyr when he is called 
 to it, not presently does it follow, that every one suf- 
 fering for religion is, without exception. Saint Paul 
 writes, that " a man may give his body to be burnt, 
 (meaning for religion,) and yet not have charity :" he 
 is not therefore above all possibility of erring, because 
 he burns for some points of truth. 
 
 Witness the* Arians and Pelagians, which were slain 
 by the heathen for Christ's sake, yet we take both these 
 for no true friends of Christ. If the martyrs (saith 
 Cyprian in his 30th epistle) decree one thing, and the 
 gospel another, either the martyrs must lose their crown 
 by not observing the gospel for which they are mar- 
 t>Ts, or the majesty of the gospel must be broken and 
 lie flat, if it can be overtopped by the novelty of any 
 other decree. 
 
 And here withal I invoke the Immortal Deity, re- 
 vealer and judge of secrets, that wherever I have in 
 this book plainly and roundly (though worthily and 
 truly) laid open the faults and blemishes of fathers, 
 martyrs, or christian emperors, or have otherwise in- 
 veighed against errour and superstition with vehement 
 expressions; I have done it neither out of malice, nor 
 list to speak evil, nor any vain glory, but of mere ne- 
 cessity to vindicate the spotless truth from an igno- 
 minious bondage, whose native worth is now become 
 of such a low esteem, that she is like to find small 
 credit with us for what sbe can say, unless she can 
 bring a ticket from Cranmer, Latimer, and Ridley ; or 
 prove herself a retainer to Constantine, and wear his 
 badge. More tolerable it were for the church of God, 
 that all these names were utterly abolished like the 
 brazen serpent, than that men's fond opinion should 
 thus idolize them, and the heavenly truth be thus cap- 
 tivated. 
 
 ments ; as is plain from his tract on " True Tleligi.in, Heresy, Schism, 
 and Tolerdtion," wliich was the last work he publisheij. 
 
OF RFFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 Now to proceed, whaUoevcr the bishops were, it 
 seems they themselves were unsatisfied in matters of 
 religion as they then stood, by that commis-sion g^ranted 
 to eight bishops, eight other divines, eight civilians, 
 eight common lawyers, to frame ecclesiastical constitu- 
 tions ; which no wonder if it came to nothing, for (as 
 Hayward relates) both their professions and their ends 
 were different. Lastly, we all know by example, tliat 
 exact reformation is not perfected at the first push, and 
 those unwieldy times of Edward VI may hold some 
 plea by this excuse. Now let any reasonable man 
 judge whether that king's reign be a fit time from 
 whence to pattern out the constitution of a church dis- 
 cipline, much less that it should yield occasion from 
 whence to foster and establish the continuance of im- 
 perfection, with the commendatory subscriptions of 
 confessors and martyrs, to entitle and engage a glorious 
 name to a gross corruption. It was not episcopacy 
 that wrought in tliem the heavenly fortitude of martyr- 
 dom, as little is it that raartjTdom can make good 
 episcopacy ; but it was episcopacy that led the good 
 and holy men, through the temptation of the enemy, 
 and the snare of this present world, to many blame- 
 worthy and opprobrious actions. And it is still epis- 
 copacy that before all our eyes worsens and slugs the 
 most learned and seeming religious of our ministers, 
 who no sooner advanced to it, but like a seething pot 
 set to cool, sensibly exhale and reak out the greatest 
 part of that zeal, and those gifts which were formerly 
 in them, settling in a skinny congealment of ease and 
 sloth at the top : and if they keep their learning by 
 some potent sway of nature, it is a rare chance ; but 
 their devotion most commonly comes to that queazy 
 temper of lukewarmness, that gives a vomit to God 
 himself. 
 
 But what do we suffer misshapen and enormous pre- 
 latism, as we do, thus to blanch and varnish her de- 
 formities with the fair colours, as before of martyrdom, 
 so now of episcopacy ? They are not bishops, God and 
 all good men know they are not, that have filled this 
 land with late confusion and violence ; but a tyrannical 
 crew and corporation of impostors, that have blinded 
 and abused the world so long under that name. He 
 that, enabled with gifts from God, and the lawful and 
 primitive choice of the church assembled in convenient 
 number, faithfully from that time forward feeds his 
 parochial flock, has his coequal and compresbyterial 
 power to ordain ministers and deacons by public prayer, 
 and vote of Christ's congregation in like sort as he 
 himself was ordained, and is a true apostolic bishop. 
 But when he steps up into the chair of pontifical pride, 
 and changes a moderate and exemplary house for a 
 misgoverned and haughty palace, spiritual dignity for 
 carnal precedence, and secular high office and employ- 
 ment for the high negotiations of his heavenly embas- 
 Kkfft: then he degrades, then he unbishops himself; 
 he that makes him bishop, makes him no bishop. No 
 raanel therefore if St. Martin complained to Sulpitius 
 Severus, that since he was bishop he felt inwardly a 
 sensible decay of those virtues and graces that God 
 had given him in great measure before ; although the 
 
 same Sulpitius write that he was nothing tainted or 
 altered in his habit, diet, or personal demeanour from 
 that simple plainness to which he first betook himself. 
 It was not therefore that thing alone which God took 
 displeasure at in the bishops of those times, but rather 
 an universal rottenness and gangrene in the whole 
 function. 
 
 I'rom hence then I pass to Queen Elizabeth, the next 
 protestant prince, in whose days why religion attained 
 not a perfect reducement in the beginning of her reign, 
 I suppose the hindering causes will be found to be 
 common with some formerly alleged for King Edward 
 VI ; the greenness of the times, the weak estate which 
 Queen Mary left the realm in, the great places and 
 offices executed by papists, the judges, the lawyers, 
 the justices of peace for the most part popish, the 
 bishops firm to Rome ; from whence was to be expected 
 the furious flashing of excommunications, and absolv- 
 ing the people from their obedience. Next, her private 
 counsellors, whoever they were, pereuaded her (as 
 Camden writes) that the altering of ecclesiastical policy 
 would move sedition. Then was the liturgy given to 
 a number of moderate divines, and Sir Thomas Smith 
 a statesman, to be purged and physicked : and surely 
 they were moderate divines indeed, neither hot nor 
 cold ; and Grindal the best of them, afterwards arch- 
 bishop of Canterbury, lost favour in the court, and I 
 think was discharged the government of his see, for 
 favouring the ministers, though Camden seem willing 
 to find another cause : therefore about her second year, 
 in a parliament, of men and minds some scarce well 
 grounded, others belching the sour crudities of yester- 
 day's popery, those constitutions of Edward VI, which 
 as you heard before no way satisfied the men that made 
 them, are now established for best, and not to be mend- 
 ed. From that time followed nothing but imprison- 
 ments, troubles, disgraces on all those that found fault 
 with the decrees of the convocation, and straight were 
 they branded with the name of puritans. As for the 
 queen herself, she was made believe that by putting 
 down bishops her prerogative would be infringed, of 
 which shall be spoken anon as the course of method 
 brings it in : and why the prelates laboured it should 
 be so thought, ask not them, but ask their bellies. 
 They had found a good tabernacle, they sate under a 
 spreading vine, their lot was fallen in a fair inherit- 
 ance. And these perhaps were the chief impeachments 
 of a more sound rectifying the church in the queen's 
 time. 
 
 From this period I count to. begin our times, which 
 because they conceni us more nearly, and our own 
 eyes and ears can give us the ampler scope to judge, 
 will require a more exact search ; and to effect this the 
 speedier, I shall distinguish such as I esteem to be the 
 hinderers of reformation into three sorUf, Antiquitarians 
 (for so I ha«l rather call them than antiquaries, whose 
 labours are useful and laudable). 2. Libertines. 3. Po- 
 liticians. 
 
 To the votarists of antiquity I shall think to have 
 fully answered, if I shall be able to prove out of anti- 
 quity, First, that if they will conform our bishops to 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 tlie purer times, tliey must mew their feathers, and 
 their pounces, and make but curtailed bishops of them ; 
 and we know tliey hate to be docked and clipped, as 
 much as to be put down outright. Secondly, that those 
 purer times were corrupt, and their books corrupted 
 soon after. Thirdly, that the best of those that then 
 wrote disclaim that any man should repose on them, 
 and send all to the Scriptures. 
 
 First therefore, if those that overaffect antiquity 
 will follow the square thereof, their bishops must be 
 elected by the hands of the whole church. The an- 
 cientest of the extant fathers, Ignatius, writing to the 
 Philadelphians, sftith, " that it belongs to them as to 
 the church of God to choose a bishop." Let no man 
 cavil, but take tiie church of God as meaning the whole 
 consistence of orders and members, as St. Paul's epis- 
 tles express, and this likewise being read over : besides 
 this, it is there to be marked, that those Philadelphians 
 are exhorted to choose a bishop of Antioch. Whence 
 it seems by the way that there was not that wary limi- 
 tation of diocese in those times, which is confirmed 
 even by a fast friend of episcopacy, Camden, who can- 
 not but love bishops as well as old coins, and his much 
 lamented monasteries, for antiquity's sake. He writes 
 in his description of Scotland, " Thrt over all the world 
 bishops had no certain diocese till pope Dionysius about 
 the year 268 did cut them out ; and that the bishops of 
 Scotland executed their function in what place soever 
 they came indifferently, and without distinction, till 
 King Malcolm the Third, about the year 1070." Whence 
 may be guessed what their function was : was it to go 
 about circled with a band of rooking ofHcials, with 
 cloakbags full of citations, and processes to be served 
 by a coq)orality of griffonlike promoters and apparitors ? 
 Did he go about to pitch down his court, as an empiric 
 does his bank, to inveigle in all the money of the coun- 
 try ? No, certainly, it would not have been permitted him 
 to exercise any such function indifferently wherever he 
 came. And verily some such matter it was as want of 
 a fat diocese that kept our Britain bishops so poor in 
 the primitive times, that being called to the council of 
 Ariminum in tlie year 359, they had not wherewithal 
 to defray the charges of their journey, but were fed 
 and lodged upon the emperor's cost ; which must needs 
 he no accidental but usual poverty in them : for the 
 author, Sulpitius Severus, in his 2d book of Church- 
 History, praises them, and avouches it praiseworthy in 
 a bishop to be so poor as to have nothing of his own. 
 But to return to the ancient election of bishops, that it 
 could not lawfully be without the consent of the people 
 is so express in Cyprian, and so often to be met with, 
 that to cite each place at large, were to translate a 
 good part of the volume ; therefore touching the chief 
 passages, I refer the rest to whom so list peruse the 
 author himself: in the 24th epistle, " If a bishop," 
 saith he, " be once made and allowed by the testimony 
 and judgment of his colleagues and the people, no 
 other can be made." In the 55th, " When a bishop is 
 made by the suffrage of all the people in peace." In 
 the 68th mark but what he says; " The people chiefly 
 hath power cither of choosing worthy ones, or refusing 
 
 unworthy : " this he there proves by authorities out of 
 the Old and New Testament, and with solid reasons : 
 these were his antiquities. 
 
 This voice of the people, to be had ever in episcopal 
 elections, was so well known before Cyprian's time, 
 even to those that were without the church, that the 
 emperor Alexander Severus desired to have his gover- 
 nors of provinces chosen in the same manner, as Lam- 
 pridius can tell ; so little thought it he offensive to 
 monarchy. And if single authorities persuade not, 
 hearken what the whole general council of Nicsea, the 
 first and famousest of all the rest, determines, writing 
 a sy nodical epistle to the Afncan churches, to warn 
 them of Arianism ; it exhorts them to choose orthodox 
 bishops in the place of the dead, so they be worthy, 
 and the people choose them ; whereby they seem to 
 make the people's assent so necessary, tiiat merit, with- 
 out their free choice, were not sufficient to make a 
 bishop. What would ye say now, grave fathers, if you 
 should wake and see unworthy bishops, or rather no 
 bishops, but Egyj)tian taskmasters of ceremonies thrust 
 purposely upon the groaning church, to the affliction 
 and vexation of God's people.'' It was not of old that 
 a conspiracy of bishops could frustrate and fob off the 
 right of the people ; for we may read how St. Martin, 
 soon after Constantine, was made bishop of Turin in 
 France, by the people's consent from all places there- 
 about, maugre all the opposition that the bishops could 
 make. Thus went matters of the church almost 400 
 years after Christ, and very probably far lower: for 
 Nicephorus Phocas the Greek emperor, whose reign 
 fell near the 1000 year of our I^rd, having done many 
 things tyrannically, is said by Cedrenus to have done 
 nothing more grievous and displeasing to the people, 
 than to have enacted that no bishop should be chosen 
 without his will ; so long did this right remain to the 
 people in the midst of other palpable corruptions. Now 
 for episcopal dignity, what it was, see out of Ignatius, 
 who in his epistle to those of Trallis, confessetb, " That 
 the presbyters are his fellow-counsellors and fellow- 
 benchers." And Cyprian in many places, as in the 6(h, 
 41st, 52d epistles, speaking of presbyters, calls them 
 his compresbyters, as if he deemed himself no other, 
 whenas by the same place it appears he was a bisliop ; 
 he calls them brethren, but that will be thought his 
 meekness : yea, but the presbyters and deacons writing' 
 to him think they do him honour enough, when they 
 phrase him no higher than brother Cyprian, and dear 
 Cyprian in the 26th epistle. For their authority it is 
 evident not to have been single, but depending on the 
 counsel of the presbyters as from Ignatius was erewhile 
 alleged ; and the same Cyprian acknowledges as much 
 in the 6th epistle, and adds thereto, that he had deter- 
 mined, from his entrance into the office of bishop, to do 
 nothing without the consent of his people, and so in 
 the 3lst epistle, for it were tedious to course through all 
 his writings, which are so full of the like assertions, 
 insomuch that even in the womb and centre of apos- 
 tasy, Rome itself, there yet remains a glimpse of this 
 truth ; for the pope himself, as a learned English 
 writer notes well, performeth all ecclesiastical juri-sdic- 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 tioii as in consistory amonq;' Ins cardinals, which were 
 orig'inallj but the parish priests of Rome. Thus then 
 did the spirit of unity and meekness inspire and ani- 
 mate every joint ami sinew of the mystical body ; but 
 now the frravest and worthiest minister, a true bishop 
 of his fold, shall be reviled and ruffled by an insulting' 
 and only canon-wise prelate, as if he were some slight 
 paltry companion : and the people of God, redeemed 
 and washed with Christ's bloo<l, and digiiitied with so 
 many glorious titles of saints and sons in the gospel, 
 are now no better reputed than impure ethnics and lay 
 dogs ; stones, and pillars, and crucifixes, have now the 
 honour and the alms due to Christ's living members ; 
 the table of communion, now become a table of separa- 
 tion, stands like an exalted platform upon the brow of 
 the quire, fortified with bulwark and barricado, to keep 
 off the profane touch of the laics, whilst the^^obscene 
 and surfeited priest scmples^QatUo paw and mamnioc 
 the sacramentalbrea^, as familiarly as his tavern bis- 
 cuit. And thus the people, vilified and rejected by 
 them, g^ve over the earnest study of virtue and godli- 
 ness, as a thin<if of greater purity than they need, and 
 the search of divine knowledge as a mystery too hi;4h 
 for their capacities, and only for churchmen to meddle 
 with ; which is what the prelates desire, that when 
 they have brought us back to popish blindness, we 
 might commit to their dispose the whole managing of 
 our salvation, for they think it was never fair world 
 with them since that time. But he that will mould a 
 modem bishop into a primitive, must yield him to be 
 elected by the popular voice, undiocesed, unreveuued, 
 unlorded, and leave him nothing but brotherly equality, 
 matchless temperance, frequent fasting, incessant prayer 
 and preaching, continual watchings and labours in his 
 ministry ; which what a rich booty it would be, what 
 a plump endowment to the many-benefice-gaping- 
 nioutb of a prelate, what a relish it would give to his 
 canary-sucking and swan-eating palate, let old bishop 
 Mountain judge for me. 
 
 How little therefore those ancient times make for 
 modem bishops, hath been plainly discoursed ; but let 
 them make for them as much as they will, yet why we 
 ought not to stand to their arbitrement, shall now ap- 
 pear by a threefold cormption which will be found 
 upon them. 1. The best times were spreadingly in- 
 fected. 2. The best men of those times foully tainted. 
 3. The best writings of those men dangerously adul- 
 terated. These positions are to be made good out of 
 those times witnessing of themselves. First, Ignatius 
 in his early days testifies to the churches of Asia, that 
 even then heresies were sprung up, and rise everywhere, 
 as Eusebius relates in his 3d book, 35th chap, after 
 the Greek number. And Hegesippus, a grave church 
 writer of prime antiquity, affirms in the same book of 
 Eusebius, c. 32 : " That while the apostles were on 
 earth, the depravers of doctrine did but lurk ; but they 
 once gone, with open forehead they durst preach down 
 the truth with falsities." Yea, those that are reckoned 
 for orthodox, l>egan to make sad and shameful rents in 
 the church ab<»ut U)c trivial celebration of feasts, not 
 agreeing tvhen to keep Easter-day ; which controversy 
 
 grew so hot, that Victor the bishop of Rome excom- 
 municated all the churches of Asia for no other cause, 
 and was worthily thereof reproved by Irenieus. For 
 can any sound theologer think, that these great fathers 
 understood what was gospel, or what was excommuni- 
 cation ? Doubtless that which led the good men into 
 fraud and errour was, that they attended more to the 
 near tradition of what they heard the apostles some- 
 times did, than to w hat they had left written, not con- 
 sidering that many things which they did were by the 
 apostles tliemselves professed to be done only for the 
 present, and of mere indulgence to some scrupulous 
 converts of the circumcision, but what they writ was 
 of firm decree to all future ages. Look but a century 
 lower in the 1st cap. of Eusebius 8th book. What a 
 universal tetter of impurity had envenomed every part, 
 order, and degree of the church, to omit the lay herd, 
 which will be little regarded, " those that seem to be 
 our pastors," saith he, " overturning the law of God's 
 worship, burnt in contentions one towards another, and 
 increasing in hatred and bitterness, outrageously sought 
 to uphold lordship, and command as it were a tyranny." 
 Stay but a little, magnanimous bishops, suppress your 
 aspiring thoughts, for there is nothing wanting but 
 Constantine to reign, and then tyranny herself shall 
 give up all her citadels into your hands, and count ye 
 thenceforward her trustiest agents. Such were these 
 that must be called the ancientest and most virgin 
 times between Christ and Constantine. Nor was this 
 general contagion in their actions, and not in their 
 writings : who is ignorant of the foul errours, the ridi- 
 culous wresting of Scripture, the heresies, the vanities 
 thick sown through the voIuikcs of Justin Martyr, 
 Clemens, Origen, Tertullian, and others of eldest time ? 
 Who would think him fit to write an apology for 
 christian faith to the Roman senate, that would tell 
 them " how of the angels," which he must needs mean 
 those in Genesis called the sons of God, " mixing with 
 women were begotten the devils," as good Justin Mar- 
 tyr in his Apology told them ? But more indignation 
 would it move to any Christian that shall read Tertul- 
 lian, terming St. Paul a novice, and raw in grace, for 
 reproving St. Peter at Antioch, worthy to be blamed if 
 we believe the epistle to the Galatians: perhaps from 
 this hint the blasphemous Jesuits presumed in Italy to 
 give their judgment of St. Paul, as of a hotheaded per- 
 son, as Sandys in his relations tells us. 
 
 Now besides all this, who knows not how many 
 superstitious works are ingraffed into the legitimate 
 writings of the fathers ? And of those books that pass 
 for authentic, who knows what hath been tampered 
 withal, what hath been razed out, what hath been in- 
 serted ? Besides the late legerdemain of the papists, 
 that which Sulpitius writes concerning Origen's books, 
 g^ves us cause vehemently to suspect, there hath been 
 packing of old. In the third chap, of his 1st Dialogue 
 we may read what wrangling the bishops and monks 
 had about the reading or not reading of Origen ; soni 
 objecting that he was corrupted by heretics, others an 
 swering that all such books had been so dealt with. 
 How tht'ii "ihall I trust those tinn-s to load me, that 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND 
 
 testify so ill of leading- themselves ? Certainly of their 
 defects their own witness may be best recei\ed, but of 
 the rectitude and sincerity of their life and doctrine, to 
 judge rig-htly, we must judge by that which was to be 
 their rule. 
 
 But it will be objected, that this was an unsettled 
 state of the church, wanting' the temj)oral magistrate 
 to suppress the licence of false brethren, and the cx- 
 Iravagancy of still new opinions ; a time not imitable 
 for church government, where the temporal and spirit- 
 ual power did not close in one belief, as under Con- 
 stantine. I am not of opinion to think the church a 
 vine in this respect, because, as they take it, she cannot 
 subsist without clasping about the elm of worldly 
 strength and felicity, as if the heavenly city could not 
 support itself without the props and buttresses of secu- 
 lar authority. They extol Constantinc because he 
 extolled them ; as our homebred monks in their his- 
 tories blanch the kings their benefactors, and brand 
 those that went about to be their correctors. If he had 
 curbed the growing pride, avarice, and luxury of the 
 clergy, then every page of his story should have swell- 
 ed with his faults, and that which Zozimus the heathen 
 writes of him should have come in to boot: we should 
 have heard then in every declamalion how he slew his 
 nephew Commodus, a worthy man, his noble and eld- 
 est son C'rispus, his wife Fausta, besides numbers of 
 his friends ; then his cruel exactions, bis unsoundness 
 in religion, favouring the Arians that had been con- 
 demned in a council, of which himself sat as it were 
 president; his hard measure and banishment of the 
 faithful and invincible Athanasius; his living unbap- 
 tized almost to his dying day ; these blurs are too ap- 
 parent in his life. But since he must needs be the 
 loadstar of reformation, as some men clatter, it will be 
 good to see further his knowledge of religion what it 
 was, and by that we may likewise guess at the sin- 
 cerity of his times in those that were not heretical, it 
 being likely that he would converse with the famous- 
 est prelates (for so he had made them) that were to be 
 found for learning. 
 
 Of his Arianism we heard, and for the rest a pretty 
 scantling of his knowledge may be taken by his de- 
 ferring to be baptized so many years, a thing not 
 usual, and repugnant to the tenour of Scripture ; Philip 
 knowing nothing that should hinder the eunuch to 
 be baptized after profession of his belief. Next, by 
 the excessive devotion, that I may not say superstition, 
 both of him and his mother Helena, to find out the 
 cross on which Christ suffered, that had long lain 
 under the rubbish of old ruins ; (a thing which the dis- 
 ciples and kindred of our Saviour might with more 
 ease have done, if they had thought it a pious duty;) 
 some of the nails whereof he put into his helmet, to 
 bear off blows in battle, others he fastened among the 
 studs of his bridle, to fulfil (as he thought, or his court 
 bishops persuaded him) the prophecy of Zechariah ; 
 " And it shall be that which is in the bridle shall be 
 holy to the Lord." Part of the cross, in which he 
 thought such virtue to reside, as would prove a kitul of 
 Palladium to save the city wherever it remained, he I 
 
 caused to be laid uj) in a pillar of poqjhyry by his 
 statue. How he or bis teachers could trifle thus with 
 half an eye oj)en upon St. Paul's principles, I know 
 not how to imagine. 
 
 How should then the dim taper of this emperor's 
 age, that had such need of snuffing, extend any beam 
 to our times, wherewith we might hojje to be better 
 lighted, than by those luminaries that God hath set up 
 to shine to us far nearer hand. And what reformation 
 he wrought for his own time, it will not be amiss to 
 consider; he appointed certain times for fasts and feasts, 
 built stately churches, gave large immunities to the 
 clergy, great riches and promotions to bishops, gave 
 and ministered occasion to bring in a deluge of cere- 
 monies, thereby either to draw in the heathen by a 
 resemblance of their rites, or to set a gloss upon the 
 simplicity and plainness of Christianity; which, to the 
 gorgeous solemnities of paganism, and the sense of the 
 worhl's children, seemed but a homely and yeomanly 
 religion ; for the beauty of inwani sanctity was not 
 within their prospect. 
 
 So that in this manner the prelates, both then and ever 
 since, coming from a mean and plebeian life on a sudden 
 to be lords of stately palaces, rich funiiture, delicious 
 fare, and princely attendance, thought the plain and 
 homespun verity of Christ's gospel unfit any longer to 
 hold their lordships' acquaintance, unless the poor thread- 
 bare matron w ere put into better clothes : her chaste and 
 modest vail, surrounded with celestial beams, they over- 
 laid with wanton tresses, and in a staring tire bespeckled 
 her with all the gaudy allurements of a whore. 
 
 Thus flourished the church with Constantine's wealth, 
 and thereafter were the effects that followed ; his son 
 Constantius proved a flat Arian, and his nephew Julian 
 an apostate, and there his race ended : the church that 
 before by insensible degrees welked and impaired, now 
 with large steps went down hill decaying : at this time 
 .\nticbrist began first to put forth his horn, and that 
 saying was common, that former times had wooden 
 chalices and golden priests; but they, golden chalices 
 and wooden priests. " Formerly," saith Sulpitius, 
 " martyrdom by glorious death was sought more gree- 
 dily than now bishoprics by vile ambition are hunted 
 after," speaking of these times: and in another place, 
 " they gape after possessions, they tend lands and liv- 
 ings, they cower over their gold, they buy and sell : 
 and if there be any that neither possess nor traffic, that 
 which is worse, they set still, and expect gifts, and pros- 
 titute every endowment of grace, every holy thing, to 
 sale." And in the end of his history thus be concludes: 
 " All things went to wrack by the faction, wilfulness, 
 and avarice of the bishops ; and by this means God's 
 people, and every good man, was had in scorn and de- 
 rision;" which St. Martin found truly to be said by 
 his friend Sulpitius ; for, being held in admiration of 
 all men, he had only the bishops his enemies, found 
 God less favourable to him after he was bishop than 
 before, and for his last sixteen years would come at no 
 bishop's meeting. Thus you see, sir, what Constan- 
 tine's doings in the church brought forth, either in his 
 own or in his son's reign. 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 Now, lost it shoulJ be thought that something' else 
 niio-ht ail tliis author thus to hamper tlic bishops of 
 those (lays, I will bring you the opinion of three the 
 famousest men for wit and learning that Italy at this 
 day glories of, whereby it may be concluded for a re- 
 ceived opinion, even among men professing the Romish 
 faith, that Constantino marred all in the church. 
 Dante, in his 19th Canto of Tnfenio, hath thus, as I 
 will render it you in English blank verse : 
 
 Ah Constantine '. of how much ill was cause 
 Not thy conversion, but those rich domains 
 That the first wealthy pope receiv'd of thee ! 
 
 So, in his 20th Canto of Paradise, he makes the 
 like complaint, and Petrarch seconds him in the same 
 mind in his 108th sonnet, which is wiped out by the 
 inquisitor in some editions ; speaking of the Roman 
 Antichrist as merely bred up by Constantine. 
 
 Founded in chaste and humble poverty, 
 'Gainst them that rais'd thee dost thou lift thy horn. 
 Impudent whore, where hast thou plac'd thy hope ? 
 In thy adulterers, or thy ill-got wealth? 
 Another Constantine comes not in haste. 
 
 Ariosto of Ferrara, after both these in time, but 
 equal in fame, following the scope of his poem in a 
 difficult knot how to restore Orlando his chief hero to 
 bis lost senses, brings Astolfo the English knight up 
 into the moon, where St. John, as he feigns, met him. 
 Cant. 34. 
 
 And to be short, at last his guide him brings 
 Into a goodly valley, where he sees 
 A miglily mass of things strangely confus'd. 
 Things that on earth were lost, or were abus'd. 
 
 And amongst these so abused things, listen what he 
 met withal, under the conduct of the Evangelist. 
 
 Then past lie to a flowery mountain green. 
 Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously : 
 This was that gift (if you the truth will have) 
 That Constantine to good Syivestro gave. 
 
 And this was a truth well known in England before 
 this poet was bom, as our Chaucer's Ploughman shall 
 tell you by and by upon another occasion. By all tl)cse 
 circumstances laid together, I do not see how it can be 
 disputed what good thfs emperor Constantine wrought 
 to the church, but rather whether ever any, though 
 perhaps not wittingly, set open a door to more mis- 
 chief in Christendom. There is just cause therefore, 
 that when the prelates cry out, Let the church be re- 
 formed according to Constantine, it should sound to a 
 judicious ear no otherwise, than if they sliould say. 
 Make us rich, make us lofty, make us lawless ; for if 
 any under him were not so, thanks to those ancient re- 
 mains of integrity, which were not yet quite worn out, 
 and not to his government. 
 
 Thus finally it appears, that those purer times were 
 not such as they are cried up, and not to be followed 
 without suspicion, doubt, and danger. The last point 
 wherein the antiquary is to be dealt with at his own 
 weapon, is, to make it manifest that the ancientest and 
 best of the fathers have disclaimed all sufficiency in 
 
 themselves that men should rely on, and sent all 
 comers to the Scriptures, as allsufficicnt : that this is 
 true, will not be unduly gathered, by shewing what 
 esteem they had of antiquity themselves, and what va- 
 lidity they thought in it to prove doctrine or discipline. 
 I must of necessity begin from the second rank of 
 fathers, because till then antiquity could have no plea. 
 Cyprian in his 63d Epistle: " If any," saith he, "of 
 our ancestors, either ignorantly or out of simplicity, 
 hath not observed that which the Lord taught us by 
 example," speaking of the Lord's supper, " his simpli- 
 city God may pardon of his mercy ; but we cannot 
 be ex'cuscd for following him, being instructed by the 
 Lord." And have not we the same instructions ; and 
 will not this holy man, with all the whole consistory 
 of saints and martyrs that lived of old, rise up and 
 stop our months in judgment, when we shall go about to 
 father our errours and opinions upon their authority ? 
 In the 73d Epist. he adds, " In vain do they oppose 
 custom to us, if they be overcome by reason ; as if cus- 
 tom were greater than truth, or that in spiritual things 
 that were not to be followed, which is revealed for the 
 better by the Holy Ghost." In the 74th, " Neither 
 ought custom to hinder tliat truth should not prevail ; 
 for custom without truth is but agedness of errour." 
 
 Next Lactantius, he that was preferred to have the 
 bringing up of Constantino's children, in his second 
 book of Institutions, chap. 7 and 8, disputes against the 
 vain trust in antiquity, as being the chiefest argument 
 of the Heathen against the Christians : " They do not 
 consider," saith he, " what religion is, but they are 
 confident it is true, because the ancients delivered it ; 
 they count it a trespass to examine it." ^nd in the 
 eighth : " Not because they went before us in time, 
 therefore in wisdom ; which being given alike to all 
 ages, cannot be prepossessed by the ancients : where- 
 fore, seeing that to seek the truth is inbred to all, they 
 bereave themselves of wisdom, the gift of God, who 
 without judgnreiit follow the ancients, and are led by 
 others like brute beasts." St. Austin writes to Fortu- 
 natian, that " he counts it lawful, in the books of 
 whomsoever, to reject that which he finds otherwise 
 than true ; and so he would have others deal by him." 
 He neither accounted, as it seems, those fathers that 
 went before, nor himself, nor others of his rank, for 
 men of more than ordinary spirit, that might equally 
 deceive, and he deceived : and ofttimes setting our ser- 
 vile humours aside, yea, God so ordering we may find 
 truth with one man, as soon as in a council, as Cyprian 
 agrees, 71st Epist. " Many things," saith he," are bet- 
 ter revealed to single persons." At Nicae, in the first 
 and best-reputed council of all the world, tliere had 
 gone out a canon to divorce married priests, had not 
 one old man, Paphnutius, stood up and reasoned 
 against it. 
 
 Now remains it to shew clearly that the fathers refer 
 all decision of controversy to the scriptures, as allsuf- 
 ficicnt to direct, to resolve, and to <leterniine. Igna- 
 tius, taking his last leave of the Asian churches, as he 
 went to martyrdom, exhorted them to adhere close to 
 the written doctrine of the apostles, necessarily written 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 for posterity : so far was be from unwritten traditions, 
 as maj be read in the 36tb cbap. of Eusebius, 3d b. In 
 tlie 74th Epist. of Cyprian ag-ainst Stefan, bishop of 
 Rome, imposing upon liim a tradition ; " Whence," 
 quoth he, " is this tradition ? Is it fetched from the 
 authority of Christ in the gospel, or of the apostles in 
 their epistles ? for God testifies that those things are 
 to be done which are written." And then thus, " What 
 obstinacy, what presumption is this, to prefer human 
 tradition before divine ordinance ?" And in the same 
 epist. "if «c shall return to the head, and beginning of 
 divine tradition, (which we all know he means the 
 Bible,) human errour ceases ; and the reason of heavenly 
 mysteries unfolded, whatsoever was obscure becomes 
 dear." And in the 14th distinct, of the same epist. 
 directly against our modern fantasies of a still visible 
 church, he teaches, " that succession of truth may fail; 
 to renew which, we must have recourse to the foun- 
 tains;" using this excellent similitude, " if a channel, 
 or conduit-pipe which brought in water plentifully be- 
 fore, suddenly fail, do we not go to the fountain to 
 know the cause, whether the spring affords no more, or 
 whether the vein be stopped, or turned aside in the 
 midcourse ? Thus ought we to do, keeping God's pre- 
 cepts, that if in aught the truth shall be changed, we 
 may repair to the gospel and to the apostles, that thence 
 may arise the reason of our doings, from whence our 
 order and beginning arose." In the 75th he inveighs 
 bittcrlj' against pope Stephanus, " for that he could 
 boast his succession from Peter, and yet Ibist in tra- 
 ditions that were not apostolical." And in his book of 
 the unity of the church, he compares those that, neg- 
 lecting God's word, follow the doctrines of men, to 
 Corah, Dathan, and Abiram. The very first page of 
 Athanasius against the gentiles, avers the scriptures to 
 be sufficient of themselves for the declaration of truth ; 
 and that if his friend Macarius read other religious 
 writers, it was but ^iXoicaXoc come un vertuoso, (as the 
 Italians say,) as a lover of elegance: and in his second 
 tome, the 39th page, after he hath reckoned up the 
 canonical books, " in these only," saith he, " is the 
 doctrine of godliness taught; let no man add to these, 
 or take from these." And in his Synopsis, having again 
 set down all the writers of the Old and New Testament, 
 " these," saith he, " be the anchors and props of our 
 faith." Besides these, millious of other books have 
 been written by great and wise men according to rule, 
 and agreement with these, of which I will not now 
 speak, as being of infinite number, and mere depend- 
 ance on the canonical books. Basil, in his 2d tome, 
 writing of true faith, tells his auditors, he is bound to 
 teach them that which he hath learned out of the 
 Bible : and in the same treatise he saith, " that seeing 
 the commandments of the Lord are faithful, and sure 
 for ever, it is a plain falling from the faith, and a high 
 pride, either to make void any thing therein, or to in- 
 troduce anything not there to be found :" and he gives 
 the reason, " lor Christ saith, My sheep hear my voice, 
 they will not follow another, but fly from him, because 
 they know not his voice." But not to be endless in 
 quotations, it may chance to be objected, that there be 
 
 many opinions in the fathers whicli liave no ground in 
 Scripture ; so much the less, may I say, should we fol- 
 low them, for their own word's shall condemn them, 
 and acquit us that lean not on them ; otherwise these 
 their words will acquit them, and condemn us. But it 
 will be replied, the Scriptures are difficult to be under- 
 stood, and therefore require the explanation of the 
 fathei"s. It is true, there be some books, and especially 
 some places in those books, that remain clouded ; yet 
 ever that which is most necessary to be known is most 
 easy; and that which is most difficult, so far expounds 
 itself ever, as to tell us how little it imports our saviug 
 knowledges;. Hence, to infer a general obscurity over 
 all the text, is a mere suggestion of the devil to dis- 
 suade men from reading it, and casts an aspersion of 
 dishonour both upon the mercy, truth, and wisdom of 
 Go«l. We count it no gentleness or fair dealing in a 
 man of power amongst us, to require strict and punc- 
 tual obedience, and yet give out till his commands 
 ambiguous and obscure, we should think he had a plot 
 upon us ; certainly such commands were no commands, 
 but snares. The very essence of truth is plainness and 
 brightness, the darkness and crookedness is our own. 
 The wisdom of God created understanding, fit and 
 proportionable to truth, the object and end of it, as the 
 eye to the thing visible. If our understanding have a 
 film of ignorance over it, or be blear with gazing on 
 other false glisterings, what is that to truth .'* If we 
 will but purge with sovereign eyesalve that intellectual 
 ray which God hath planted in us, then we would be- 
 lieve the Scriptures protesting their own plainness and 
 perspicuity, calling to them to be instructed, not only 
 the wise and learned, but the simple, the poor, the 
 babes, foretelling an extraordinary effusion of God's 
 Spirit upon every age and sex, attributing to all men, 
 and requiring from them the ability of searching, try- 
 ing, examining all things, and by the spirit discerning 
 that which is good ; and as the Scriptures themselves 
 pronounce their own plainness, so do the fathers testify 
 of them. 
 
 I will not run into a paroxysm of citations again in 
 this point, only instance Athanasius in his foremen- 
 tioned first page: " The knowledge of truth," saith he, 
 " wants no human lore, as being evident in itself, and 
 by the preaching of Christ now opens brighter than the 
 sun." If these doctors, who had scarce half the light 
 that we enjoy, who all, except two or three, were ig- 
 norant of the Hebrew tongue, and many of the Greek, 
 blundering upon the dangerous and suspectful transla- 
 tions of the apostate Aquila, the heretical Theodotian, 
 the judaized Symmachus, the erroneous Origen ; if 
 these could yet find the Bible so easy, why should we 
 doubt, that have all the helps of learning, and faithful 
 industry, that man in this life can look for, and the 
 assistance of God as near now to us as ever ? But let 
 the Scriptures be hard; are they more hard, more crab- 
 bed, more abstruse than the fathers ."* He that cannot 
 understand the sober, plain, and unaffected style of the 
 Scriptures, will be ten times more puzzled with the 
 knotty Africanisms, the pampered metaphors, the intri- 
 cate and involved sentences of the fatbei-s, besides the 
 
10 
 
 OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 I'autastic and declamatory flashes, the cross-jingling 
 periods vt liich cannot but disturb, and come thwart a 
 settled devotion, worse than the din of bells and rattles. 
 Now, sir, for the love of holy Reformation, what can 
 be said more against these importunate clients of anti- 
 quity than she herself their patroness hath said ? Whe- 
 ther, think ye, would she approve still to doat upon 
 immeasurable, innumerable, and therefore unnecessary 
 and unmerciful volumes, choosing rather to err with 
 the specious name of the fathers, or to take a sound 
 truth at the hand of a plain upright man, that all his 
 days have been diligently reading the holy Scriptures, 
 and thereto imploring God's grace, while the admirers 
 of antiquity have been beating their brains about their 
 ambones, their dyptichs, and meniaias ? Now, he that 
 cannot tell of stations and indictions, nor has wasted 
 his precious hours in the endless conferring of councils 
 and conclaves that demolish one another, (although I 
 know many of those that pretend to be great rabbies 
 in these studies, have scarce saluted them from the 
 strings, and the titlepage ; or to give them more, have 
 been but the ferrets and mousehunts of an index :) yet 
 what pastor or minister, how learned, religious, or dis- 
 crete soever, does not now bring both his cheeks full 
 blown with oecumenical and synodical, shall be counted 
 a lank, shallow, insufficient man, yea a dunce, and not 
 worthy to speak about reformation of church disci- 
 pline. But I trust they for whom God hath reserved 
 the honour of reforming this church, will easily perceive 
 their adversaries' drift in thus calling for antiquity : 
 they fear the plain field of the Scriptures ; the chase is 
 too hot ; they seek the dark, the bushy, the tangled 
 forest, they would imbosk : they feel themselves strook 
 in the transparent streams of divine truth ; they would 
 plunge, and tumble, and think to lie hid in the foul 
 weeds and muddy waters, where no plummet can reach 
 
 the bottom. But let them beat themselves like whales, 
 and spend their oil till they be dragged ashore : though 
 wherefore should the ministers give them so much line 
 for shifts and delays.'' wherefore should they not urge 
 only the gospel, and hold it ever in their faces like a 
 mirror of diamond, till it dazzle and pierce their misty 
 eyeballs .'' maintaining it the honour of its absolute 
 sufficiency and supremacy inviolable : for if the Scrip- 
 ture be for reformation, and antiquity to boot, it is but 
 an advantage to the dozen, it is no winning cast : and 
 though antiquity be against it, while the Scriptures be 
 for it, the cause is as good as ought to be wished, anti- 
 quity itself sitting judge. 
 
 But to draw to an end ; the second sort of those that 
 may be justly numbered among the hinderers of re- 
 formation, are libertines ; these suggest that the disci- 
 pline sought would be intolerable : for one bishop now 
 in a diocese, we should then have a pope in every pa- 
 rish. It will not be requisite to answer these men, but 
 only to discover them ; for reason they have none, but 
 lust and licentiousness, and therefore answer can have 
 none. It is not any discipline that they could live 
 under, it is the corruption and remissness of discipline 
 that they seek. Episcopacy duly executed, yea, the 
 Turkish and Jewish rigour against whoring and drink- 
 ing ; the dear and tender discipline of a father, the 
 sociable and loving reproof of a brother, the bosom 
 admonition of a friend, is a presbytery, and a consistory 
 to them. It is only the meiTy friar iu Chaucer can 
 disple * them. 
 
 • 
 Full sweetly heard he confession. 
 And pleasant was his absolution. 
 He was an easy man to give penance. 
 
 And so I leave them ; and refer the political discourse 
 of episcopacy to a second book. 
 
 Of 
 
 REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 Sir, 
 It is a work good and prudent to be able to guide one 
 man ; of larger extended virtue to order well one house : 
 but to govern a nation piously and justly, which only 
 is to say happily, is for a spirit of the greatest size, and 
 divinest mettle. And certainly of no less a mind, nor 
 of less excellence in another way, were they who by 
 writing laid the solid and true foundations of this 
 science, which being of greatest importance to the life 
 
 * A conlractioa of disciple. 
 
 of man, yet there is no art that hath been more cankered 
 in her principles^ more soiled, and slubbered with apho- 
 risming pedantry, than the art of policy ; and that 
 most, where a man would think should least be, in 
 christian commonwealths. They teach not, that to 
 govern well, is to train up a nation in true wisdom and 
 virtue, and that which springs from thence, magnani- 
 mity, (take heed of that,) and that which is our begin- 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 11 
 
 niii*,'', regeneration, and happiest end, likeness to God, 
 wliich in one word we call godliness ; and that this is 
 the trne flourishing of a land, other things follow as 
 the shadow does the substance ; to teach thus were 
 mere pulpitry to them. This is the masterpiece of a 
 modei-n politician, how to qualify and mould the suf- 
 ferance and subjection of the people to the length of 
 that foot that is to tread on their necks ; how rapine 
 may serve itself with the fair and honourable pretences 
 of public good ; how the puny law may be brought 
 under the wardship and cotJtrol of lust and will : in 
 which attempt if they fall short, then must a superficial 
 colour of reputation by all means, direct or indirect, be 
 gotten to wash over the unsightly bruise of honour. 
 To make men governable in this manner, their precepts 
 mainly tend to break a national spirit and courage, by 
 countenancing open riot, luxury, and ignorance, till 
 having thus disfigured and made men beneath men, as 
 Juno in the fable of lo, they deliver up the poor trans- 
 formed heifer of the commonwealth to be stung and 
 vexed with the brecse and goad of oppression, under 
 the custody of some Argus with a hundred eyes of 
 jealousy. To be plainer, sir, how to sodder, how to 
 stop a leak, how to keep up the floating carcase of a 
 crazy and diseased monarchy or state, betwixt wind 
 and water, swimming still upon her own dead lees, that 
 now is the deep design of a politician. Alas, sir ! a 
 commonwealth ought to be but as one huge christian 
 personage, one mighty growth and stature of an honest 
 man, as big and compact in virtue as in body ; for look 
 what the grounds and causes are of single happiness 
 to one man, the same ye shall find them to a whole 
 state, as Aristotle, both in his Ethics and Politics, from 
 the principles of reason laj's down : by consequence, 
 therefore, that which is good and agreeable to mo- 
 narchy, will appear soonest to be so, by being good 
 and agreeable to the true welfare of every Christian ; 
 and that which can be justly proved hurtful and oflTen- 
 sive to every true Christian, will be evinced to be alike 
 hurtful to monarchy : for God forbid that we should 
 separate and distinguish the end and good of a monarch, 
 from tiie end and good of the monarchy, or of that, from 
 I Christianity. How then this third and last sort that 
 hinder reformation, will justify that it stands not with 
 reason of state, I much muse; for certain I am, the 
 Bible is shut against them, as certain that neither Plato 
 nor Aristotle is for their turns. What they can bring 
 us now from the schools of Loyola with his Jesuits, or 
 their Malvezzi, that can cut Tacitus into slivers and 
 steaks, we shall presently hear. They allege, 1. That 
 the church government must be conformable to the civil 
 polity ; next, that no form of church-goveniment is 
 agreeable to monarchy, but that of bishops. Must 
 church-government that is appointed in the gospel, and 
 has chief respect to the soul, be conformable and pliant 
 to civil, that is arbitrary, and chiefly conversant about 
 the visible and external part of man ? This is the very 
 maxim that moulded the calves of Bethel and of Dan ; 
 this was the quintessence of Jeroboam's policy, he 
 made religion conform to his politic interests ; and this 
 was the sin that watched over the Israelites till their 
 
 final captivity. If this state princijjle come from the 
 prelates, as they aftect to be counted statists, let them 
 look back to Eleutherius bishop of Rome,.and see what 
 he thought of the policy of England ; being required 
 by Lucius, the fii-st christian king of this island, to 
 give his counsel for the founding of religious laws, 
 little thought he of this sage caution, but bids him be- 
 take himself to the Old and New Testament, and re- 
 ceive direction from them how to administer both church 
 and commonwealth ; that he was God's vicar, and there- 
 fore to rule by God's laws ; that the edicts of Ceesar 
 we may at all times disallow, but the statutes of God 
 for no reason we may reject. Now certain, if church- 
 government be taught in the gospel, as the bishops 
 dare not deny, we may well conclude of what late 
 standing this position is, newly calculated for the alti- 
 tude of bishop-elevation, and lettuce for their lips. But 
 by what example can they shew, that the form of 
 church-discipline must be minted and modelled out to 
 secular pretences .'* The ancient republic of the Jews 
 is evident to have run through all the changes of civil 
 estate, if we survey the story from the giving of the 
 law to the Herods; yet did one manner of priestly go- 
 vernment serve without inconvenience to all these tem- 
 poral mutations ; it served the mild aristocracy of elec- 
 tive dukes, and heads of tribes joined with them ; the 
 dictatorship of the judges, the easy or hardhanded mo- 
 narchies, the domestic or foreign tyrannies : lastly, the 
 Roman senate from without, the Jewish senate at home, 
 with the Galilean tetrarch ; yet the Levites had some 
 right to deal in civil aflfairs: but seeing the evan- 
 gelical precept forbids churchmen to intermeddle with 
 worldly employments, what interweavings or inter- 
 workings can knit the minister and the magistrate in 
 their several functions, to the regard of any precise 
 correspondency ? Seeing that the churchman's office is 
 only to teach men the christian faith, to exhort all, to 
 encourage the good, to admonish the bad, privately the 
 less offender, publicly the scandalous and stubborn ; to 
 censure and separate, from the communion of Christ's 
 flock, the contagious and incorrigible, to receive with 
 joy and fatherly compassion the penitent : all this must 
 be done, and more than this is beyond any church- 
 authority. What is all this either here or there, to the 
 temporal regiment of weal public, whether it be popu- 
 lar, princely, or monarchical .■* Where doth it entrench 
 upon the temporal governor? where does it come in 
 his walk.^ where doth it make inroad upon his juris- 
 diction ? Indeed if the minister's part be rightly dis- 
 charged, it rendei-s him the people more conscionable, 
 quiet, and easy to be governed ; if otherwise, his life 
 and doctrine will declare him. If, therefore, the con- 
 stitution of the church be already set down by divine 
 prescript, as all sides confess, then can she not be a 
 handmaid to wait on civil commodities and respects; 
 and if the nature and limits of church-discipline be 
 such, as are either helpful to all political estates indif- 
 ferently, or have no particular relation to any, then is 
 there no necessity, nor indeed possibility, of linking 
 the one with the other in a special conformation. 
 Now for their second conclusion, " That no form of 
 
12 
 
 OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 church-sfovcniment is agreeable to monarcliy, but that 
 of bishops," although it fall to pieces of itself hy that 
 which hath been said ; yet to give them plaj, front 
 and rear, it shall be my task to prove that episcopacy, 
 with that authority which it challenges in England, is 
 not only not agreeable, but tending to the destruction 
 of monarchy. While the primitive pastors of the church 
 of God laboured faithfully in their ministry, tending 
 only their sheep, and not seeking, but avoiding all 
 worldly matters as clogs, and indeed derogations and 
 debasements to their high calling; little needed the 
 princes and potentates of the earth, which way soever 
 the gospel was spread, to study ways out to make a 
 coherence between the church's polity and theirs : there- 
 fore, when Pilate heard once our Saviour Christ pro- 
 fessing that " his kingdom was not of this world," he 
 thought the man could not stand much in Coesar's 
 light, nor much endamage the Roman empire ; for if 
 the life of Christ be hid to this world, much more is his 
 sceptre unoperative, but in spiritual things. And thus 
 lived, for two or three ages, the successors of the apos- 
 tles. But when, through Constantine's lavish super- 
 stition, they forsook their first love, and set themselves 
 up two gods instead. Mammon and their Belly; then 
 taking advantage of the spiritual power which they 
 had on men's consciences, they began to cast a long- 
 ing eye to get the body also, and bodily things into 
 their command : upon which their carnal desires, the 
 spirit daily quenching and dying in them, knew no 
 way to keep themselves up from falling to nothing, 
 but by bolstering and supporting their inward rotten- 
 ness by a carnal and outward strength. For a while they 
 rather privily sought opportunity, than hastily disclosed 
 their project ; but when Constantine was dead, and 
 three or four emperors more, their drift became noto- 
 rious and offensive to the whole world ; for while The- 
 odosius the younger reigned, thus writes Socrates the 
 historian, in his 7th book, chap. 11. " Now began an 
 ill name to stick upon the bishops of Rome and Alex- 
 andria, who beyond their priestly bounds now long ago 
 bad stepped into principality : " and this was scarce 
 eighty years since their raising from the meanest 
 worldly condition. Of courtesy now let any man tell 
 me, if they draw to themselves a temporal strength and 
 power out of Csesar's dominion, is not Coesar's empire 
 thereby diminished ? But this was a stolen bit, hitherto 
 he was but a caterpillar secretly gnawing at monarchy; 
 the next time you shall see him a wolf, a lion, lifting 
 his paw against his raiser, as Petrarch expressed it, 
 and finally an open enemy and subverter of the Greek 
 empire. Philippicus and Leo, with divers other 
 emperors after them, not without the advice of their 
 patriarchs, and at length of a whole eastern council 
 of three hundred and thirty-eight bishops, threw 
 the images out of churches as being decreed idola- 
 trous. 
 
 Upon this goodly occasion, the bishop of Rome not 
 only seizes the city, and all the territory about, into his 
 own hands, and makes himself lord thereof, which till 
 then »vaa governed by a Greek magistrate, but absolves 
 all Italy of their tribute and obedience due to the em- 
 
 peror, because he obeyed God's commandment in 
 abolishing idolatry. 
 
 Mark, sir, here, how the pope came by St. Peter's 
 patrimony, as he feigns it ; not the donation of Con- 
 stantine, but idolatry and rebellion got it him. Ye 
 need but read Sigonius, one of his own sect, to know 
 the story at large. And now to shroud himself against 
 a storm from the Greek continent, and provide a cham- 
 pion to bear him out in these practices, he takes upon 
 him by papal sentence to unthrone Chilpericus the 
 rightful king of France, and gives the kingdom to 
 Pepin, for no other cause, but that he seemed to him 
 the more active man. If he were a friend herein to 
 monarchy, I know not ; but to the monarch I need not 
 ask what he was. 
 
 Having thus made Pepin his last friend, he calls him 
 into Italy against Aistulphus the Lombard, that warred 
 upon him for his late usurpation of Rome, as belonging 
 to Ravenna which he had newly won. Pepin, not un- 
 obedient to the pope's call, passing into Italy, frees 
 him out of danger, and wins for him the whole ex- 
 archate of Ravenna; which though it had been almost 
 immediately before the hereditary possession of that 
 monarchy, which was his chief patron and benefactor, 
 yet he takes and keeps it to himself as lawful prize, 
 and given to St. Peter. What a dangerous fallacy is 
 this, when a spiritual man may snatch to himself any 
 temporal dignity or dominion, under pretence of re- 
 ceiving it for the church's use? Thus he claims Na- 
 ples, Sicily, England, and what not.^ To be short, 
 under show of his zeal against the en'ours of the Greek 
 church, he never ceased baiting and goring the suc- 
 cessor of his best lord Constantine, what by his 
 barking curses and excommunications, what by his 
 hindering the western princes from aiding them against 
 the Sarazens and Turks, unless when they humoured 
 him ; so that it may be truly affirmed, he was the sub- 
 version and fall of that monarchy, which was the hoist- 
 ing of him. This, besides Petrarch, whom I have 
 cited, our Chaucer also hath observed, and gives from 
 hence a caution to England, to beware of her bishops 
 in time, for that their ends and aims are no more 
 friendly to monarchy, than the pope's. 
 
 This he begins in the Ploughman speaking. Part ii. 
 Stanz. 28. 
 
 The emperor yafe the pope sometime 
 
 So high lordship him about. 
 
 That at last the silly kime. 
 
 The proud pope put him out ; 
 
 So of this realm is no doubt, 
 
 But lords beware and them defend ; 
 
 For now these folks be wonders stout, 
 
 The king and lords now this amend. 
 
 And in the next Stanza, which begins the third part 
 of the tale, he argues that they ought not to be lords. 
 
 Moses law forbode it tho 
 
 That priests should no lordship welde, 
 
 Christ's gospel biddeth also 
 
 That they should no lordships held . 
 
 Ne Christ's apostles were never so bold 
 
 No such lordships to hem embrace. 
 
 But smcren her sheep and keep her fold. 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 13 
 
 And so forward. Whether the bishops of England 
 have deserved thus to be feared by men so wise as our 
 Chaucer is esteemed ; and how agreeable to our mo- 
 narchy and monarchs their demeanour has been, he 
 that is but meanly read in our chronicles needs not be 
 instructed. Have they not been as the Canaanites, and 
 Philistines, to this kingdom ? what treasons, what re- 
 volts to the pope ? what rebellions, and those the 
 basest and most pretenceless, have they not been chief 
 in ? What could monarchy think, when Becket durst 
 challenge the custody of Rochester-castle, and the 
 Tower of London, as appertaining to his signory .'' To 
 omit his other insolencies and affronts to regal majesty, 
 until the lashes inflicted on the anointed body of the 
 king, washed off the holy unction with his blood 
 drawn by the polluted hands of bishops, abbots, and 
 monks. 
 
 What good upholders of royalty were the bishops, 
 when by their rebellious opposition against King John, 
 Normandy was lost, he himself deposed, and this king- 
 dom made over to the pope ? When the bishop of Win- 
 chester durst tell the nobles, the pillars of the realm, 
 that there were no peers in England, as in France, but 
 that the king might do what he pleased. What could 
 tyranny say more.'' It would be pretty now if I should 
 insist upon the rendering up of Tournay by Woolsey's 
 treason, the excommunications, cursings, and inter- 
 dicts upon the whole land ; for haply I shall be cut off 
 short by a reply, that these were the faults of men and 
 their popish errours, not of episcopacy, that hath now 
 renounced the pope, and is a protestant. Yes, sure; as 
 wise and famous men have suspected and feared the 
 protestant episcopacy in England, as those that have 
 feared the papal. 
 
 You know, sir, what was the judgment of Padre Paolo, 
 the great Venetian antagonist of the pope, for it is ex- 
 tant in the hands of many men, whereby he declares his 
 fear, that when the hierarchy of England shall light 
 into the hands of busy and audacious men, or shall 
 meet with princes tractable to the prelacy, then much 
 mischief is like to ensue. And can it be nearer hand, 
 than when bishops shall openly affirm that, no bishop 
 no king? A trim paradox, and that ye may know 
 where they have been a begging for it, I will fetch you 
 the twin brother to it out of the Jesuits' cell : they feel- 
 ing the axe of God's reformation, hewing at the old 
 and hollow trunk of papacy, and finding the Spaniard 
 their surest friend, and safest refuge, to sooth him up 
 in his dream of a fifth monarchy, and withal to uphold 
 the decrepit papalty, have invented this superpolitic 
 aphorism, as one terms it, one pope and one king. 
 
 Surely there is not any prince in Christendom, who, 
 hearing this rare sophistry, can choose but smile ; and 
 if we be not blind at home, we may as well perceive 
 that this worthy motto, no bishop no king, is of the 
 same batch, and infanted out of the same fears, a mere 
 ague-cake coagulated of a certain fever they have, 
 presaging their time to be but short : and now like 
 those that are sinking, they catch round of that which 
 is likeliest to hold them up ; and would persuade regal 
 power, that if they dive, he must after. But what 
 
 greater debasement can there be to royal dignity, 
 whose towering and stedfast height rests upon the un- 
 movable foundations of justice, and heroic virtue, than 
 to chain it in a dependance of subsisting, or ruining, 
 to the painted battlements and gaudy rottenness of 
 prelatry, which want but one puff of the king's to blow 
 them down like a pasteboard house built of court- 
 cards? Sir, tlie little ado which mcthinks I find in 
 untacking these pleasant sophisms, puts me into the 
 mood to tell you a tale ere I proceed further ; and Me- 
 nenius Agrippa speed us. 
 
 Upon a time the body summoned all the members 
 to meet in the guild for the common good (as jEsop's 
 chronicles aver many stranger accidents): the head by 
 right takes the first seat, a!id next to it a huge and 
 monstrous wen little less than the head itself, growing 
 to it by a narrower excrescency. The niembei-s, 
 amazed, began to ask one another what he was that 
 took place next their chief? none could resolve. 
 Whereat the wen, though unwieldy, with much ado 
 gets up, and bespeaks the assembly to this purpose : 
 that as in place he was second to the head, so by due 
 of merit ; that he was to it an ornament, and strength, 
 and of special near relation ; and that if the head should 
 fail, none were fitter than himself to step into his place: 
 therefore he thought it for the honour of the body, that 
 such dignities and rich endowments should be decreed 
 him, as did adorn, and set out the noblest members. 
 To this was answered, that it should be consulted. 
 Then was a wise and learned philosopher sent for, that 
 knew all the charters, laws, and tenures of the body. 
 On him it is imposed by all, as cliief committee to ex- 
 amine, and discuss the claim and petition of right put 
 in by the wen ; who soon perceinng the matter, and 
 wondering at the boldness of such a svvoln tumor. Wilt 
 thou (quoth he) that art but a bottle of vicious and 
 hardened excrements, contend with the lawful and free- 
 born members, whose certain number is set by ancient 
 and unrepealable statute ? head thou art none, though 
 tliou receive this huge substance from it : what office 
 bcarest thou ? what good canst thou shew by thee done 
 to the commonweal ? The wen not easily dashed, re- 
 plies, that his office was his glory ; for so oft as the 
 soul would retire out of the head f"ro:n over the steam- 
 ing vapours of the lower parts to divine contemplation, 
 with him she found the purest and quietest retreat, as 
 being most remote from soil and disturbance. I/)urdan, 
 quoth the philosopher, tliy folly is as great as thy filth : 
 know that all the faculties of the soul are confined oi 
 old to their several vessels and ventricles, from which 
 they cannot part without dissolution of the whole body; 
 and that thou containest no good thing in thee, but a 
 heap of hard and loathsome uncleanness, and art to the 
 head a foul disfigurement and burden, when I have 
 cut thee off, and opened thee, as by the help of these 
 implements I will do, all men shall see. 
 
 But to return whence was digressed : seeing that 
 the throne of a king, as the wise king Solomon often 
 remembers us," is established injustice," which is the 
 unii crsal justice that Aristotle so much praises, con- 
 taining in it all other virtues, it may assure us that the 
 
14 
 
 OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 fall of prelacy, wliose actions are so far distant from 
 justice, cannot shake tlie least fring^e that borders the 
 royal canopy ; but that their standing' doth continually 
 oppose and lay battery to regal safety, shall by tliat 
 which fuUoMs easily appear. Amongst many second- 
 ary and accessary causes that support monarchy, these 
 are not of least reckoning, though common to all other 
 states ; the love of the subjects, the multitude and 
 valour of the people, and store of treasure. In all 
 these things hath the kingdom been of late sore weak- 
 ened, and chiefly by the prelates. First, let any man 
 consider, that if any prince shall suffer under him a 
 commission of authority to be exercised, till all the land 
 groan and cry out, as against a whip of scorpions, 
 whether this be not likely to lessen, and keel the affec- 
 tions of the subject. Next, what numbers of faithful 
 and freeborn Englishmen, and good Christians, have 
 been constrained to forsake their dearest home, their 
 friends and kindred, whom nothing but the wide ocean, 
 and the savage deserts of America, could hide and 
 shelter from the fury of the bishops ? O sir, if we could 
 but see the shape of our dear mother England, as poets 
 are wont to give a personal form to what they please, 
 how would she appear, think ye, but in a mourning 
 weed, with ashes upon her head, and tears abundantly 
 flowing from her eyes, to behold so many of her chil- 
 dren exposed at once, and thrust from things of dearest 
 necessity, because their conscience could not assent to 
 things which the bishops thoug-ht indifferent ? Wliat 
 more binding than conscience ? What more free than 
 indifferency .'* Cruel then must that indifferency needs 
 be, that shall violate the strict necessity of conscience ; 
 merciless and inhuman that free choice and liberty that 
 shall break asunder the bonds of religion ! Let the 
 astrologer be dismayed at the portentous blaze of 
 comets, and impressions in the air, as foretelling troubles 
 and changes to states : I shall believe there cannot be 
 a more ill-boding sigTi to a nation (God turn the omen 
 from us!) than when the inhabitants, to avoid insuffer- 
 able grievances at home, are enforced by heaps to for- 
 sake their native country. Now, whereas the only 
 remedy and amends against the depopulation and thin- 
 ness of a land within, is the borrowed strength of firm 
 alliance from without, these priestly policies of theirs 
 having thus exhausted our domestic forces, have gone 
 the way also to leave us as naked of our firmest and 
 faithfullest neighbours abroad, by disparaging and 
 alienating from us all protestant princes and common- 
 wealths ; who are not ignorant that our prelates, and 
 as many as they can infect, account them no better 
 tlian a sort of sacrilegious and puritanical rebels, pre- 
 ferring the Spaniard our deadly enemy before them, 
 and set all orthodox writers at nought in comparison 
 of the Jesuits, who are indeed the only corrupters of 
 youth and goo«l learning: and I have heard many 
 wise and learned men in luly say as much. It can- 
 not be that the strongest knot of confederacy should 
 not daily slacken, when religion, which is the chief en- 
 gaifemcnt of our league, shall be turned to their re- 
 proach. Hence it is that the prosperous and prudent 
 »tatc8 of the United Provinces, (whom wc ought to 
 
 love, if not for themselves, yet for our own good » ork 
 in tl)em, they having been in a manner planted and 
 erected by us, and having been since to us the faithful 
 watchmen and discoverers of many a popish and Aus- 
 trian complotted treason, and with us the partners of 
 many a bloody and victorious battle,) whom the simi- 
 litude of manners and language, the commodity of 
 traffick, which founded the old Burgundian leag-ue be- 
 twi.vt us, but chiefly religion, should bind to us im- 
 mortally; even such friends as these, out of some 
 principles instilled into us by the prelates, have been 
 often dismissed with distasteful answers, and some- 
 times unfriendly actions : nor is it to be considered to 
 the breach of confederate nations, whose mutual interests 
 is of such high consequence, though their merchants 
 bicker in the East Indies ; neither is it safe, or wary, 
 or indeed cbristianly, that the French king, of a differ- 
 ent faith, should afford our nearest allies as good pro- 
 tection as we. Sir, I persuade myself, if our zeal to 
 true religion, and the brotherly usage of our truest 
 friends, were as notorious to the world, as our pre- 
 latical schism, and captivity to rochet apophthegms, 
 we had ere this seen our old conquerors, and afterwards 
 liegemen the Normans, together with the Britains our 
 proper colony, and all the Gascoins that are the right- 
 ful dowry of our ancient kings, come with cap and 
 knee, desiring the shadow of the English sceptre to 
 defend them from the hot persecutions and taxes of the 
 French. But when they come hither, and see a tym- 
 pany of Spaniolized bishops swaggering in the fore- 
 top of the state, and meddling to turn and dandle the 
 royal ball with unskilful and pedantic palms, no mar- 
 vel though they think it as unsafe to commit religion 
 and liberty to their arbitrating as to a synagogue of 
 Jesuits. 
 
 But what do I stand reckoning upon advantages 
 and gains lost by the misrule and turbulency of the 
 prelates .■* What do I pick up so thriftily their scatter- 
 ings and diminishings of the meaner subject, whilst 
 they by their seditious practices have endangered to 
 lose the king one third of his main stock .'' What have 
 they not done to banish him from his own native 
 country ? But to speak of this as it ought, would ask 
 a volume by itself. 
 
 Thus as they have unpeopled the kingdom by ex- 
 pulsion of so many thousands, as they have endeavour- 
 ed to lay the skirts of it bare by disheartening and dis- 
 honouring' our loyallest confederates abroad, so have 
 they hamstiTing the valour of the subject by seek^ 
 ing to effeminate us all at home. Well knows ever 
 wise nation, that their liberty consists in manly and 
 honest labours, in sobriety and rigorous h(mour to th« 
 marriage-bed, which in both sexes shouhi be bred uj 
 from chaste hopes to loyal enjoyments ; and when the 
 people slacken, and fall to looseness and riot, tlien do 
 they as much as if they laid down their necks for some 
 wild tyrant to get up and ride. Thus learnt Cyrus to 
 tame the Lydians, whom by arms he could not whilst 
 they kept themselves from luxury ; with one easy pro- 
 clamation to set up stews, dancing, feasting, and 
 dicing, he made them soon his slaves. I know not 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 16 
 
 what drift tlie prelates had, whose brokers they were 
 to prepare, and supple us either for a foreign invasion or 
 domestic oppression : but this I am sure, they took the 
 ready way to despoil us both of manhood and g'race at 
 once, and that in the shamefullest and ungodliest man- 
 ner, upon that day which God's law, and even our own 
 reason hath consecrated, that we might have one day 
 at least of seven set apart wherein to examine and in- 
 crease our knowledge of God, to meditate and com- 
 mune of our faith, our hope, our eternal city in heaven, 
 and to quicken withal the study and exercise of charity ; 
 at such a time that men should be plucked from their 
 soberest and saddest thoughts, and by bishops, the pre- 
 tended fathers of the church, instigated, by public 
 edict, and with earnest endeavour pushed forward to 
 gaming, jigging, wassailing, and mixed dancing, is a 
 horror to think ! Thus did the reprobate hireling priest 
 Balaam seek to subdue the Israelites to Moah, if not 
 by force, then by this devilish policy, to draw ll)em 
 from the sanctuary of God to the luxurious and ribald 
 feasts of Baal-peor. Thus have they trespassed not 
 only against the monarchy of England, but of heaven 
 also, as others, I doubt not, can prosecute against them. 
 I proceed within my own bounds to shew you next 
 what good agents they are about the revenues and 
 riches of the kingdom, which declare of what moment 
 they are to monarchy, or what avail. Two leeches 
 they have that still suck, and suck the kingdom, tiieir 
 ceremonies and their courts. If any man will contend 
 that ceremonies be lawful under the gospel, he may be 
 answered other where. This doubtless, tliat they ought 
 to be many and overcostly, no true protestant will 
 affirm. Now I appeal to all wise men, what an ex- 
 cessive waste of treasure hath been within these few 
 years in this land, not in the expedient, but in the 
 idolatrous erection of temples beautified exquisitely to 
 outvie the papists, the costly and dear-bought scandals 
 and snares of images, pictures, rich copes, gorgeous 
 altar-cloths : and by tlie courses they took, and the 
 opinions they held, it was not likely any stay would be, 
 or any end of their madness, where a pious pretext is 
 so ready at hand to cover their insatiate desires. What 
 can we suppose this will come to ? What other mate- 
 rials than these have built up the spiritual Babel to the 
 height of her abominations .-* Believe it, sir, right truly 
 it may be said, that Antichrist is Mammon's son. 
 The sour leaven of human traditions, mixed in one 
 putrefied mass with the poisonous dregs of hypo- 
 crisy in the hearts of prelates, that lie basking in 
 the sunny warmth of wealth and promotion, is the 
 serpent's egg that will hatch an Antichrist whereso- 
 ever, and engender the same monster as big, or little, 
 as the lump is which breeds him. If the splendour of 
 gold and silver begin to lord it once again in the 
 church of England, we shall see Antichrist shortly 
 wallow here, though his chief kennel be at Rome. If 
 they had one thought upon God's glory, and the ad- 
 vancement of Christian faith, they would be a means 
 that with these expenses, thus profusely thrown away 
 in trash, rather churches and schools might be built, 
 where they cry out for want, and more added where 
 
 too few are ; a moderate maintenance distributed to 
 every painful minister, that now scarce sustains his 
 family with bread, while the prelates revel like Bel- 
 shazzar with their full carouses in goblets, and vessels 
 of gold snatched from God's temple ; which (I hope) 
 the worthy men of our land will consider. Now then 
 for their courts. What a mass of money is drawn from 
 the veins into the ulcers of the kingdom this way; 
 their extortions, their open corruptions, the multitude 
 of hungry and ravenous harpies that swarm about their 
 offices, declare sufficiently. And what though all this 
 go not over sea ? It were better it did : better a penu- 
 rious kingdom, than where excessive wealth flows into 
 the graceless and injurious hands of common sponges, 
 to the impoverishing of good and loyal men, and that 
 by such execrable, such irreligious courses. 
 
 If the sacred and dreadful works of holy discipline, 
 censure, penance, excommunication, and absolution, 
 where no prophane thing ought to have access, nothing 
 to be assistant but sage and christianly admonition, 
 brotherly love, flaming charity and zeal ; and then 
 according to the eflfects, paternal sorrow, or paternal 
 joy, mild severity, melting compassion : if such divine 
 ministeries as these, wherein the angel of the chui*ch 
 represents the person of Christ Jesus, must lie prostitute 
 to sordid fees, and not pass to and fro between our Sa- 
 viour, that of free grace redeemed us, and the submis- 
 sive penitent, without the truckage of perishing coin, 
 and the butcherly execution of tormentors, rooks, and 
 rakeshames sold to lucre ; then have the Babylonish 
 merchantsof souls just excuse. Hitherto, sir, you have 
 heard how the prelates have weakened and withdrawn 
 the external accomplishments of kingly prosperity, the 
 love of the people, their multitude, their valour, their 
 wealth ; mining and sapping the outworks and redoubts 
 of monarchy. Now hear how they strike at the very 
 heart and vitals. 
 
 We know that monarchy is made up of two parts, the 
 liberty of the subject, and the supremacy of the king. 
 I begin at the root. See what gentle and benign fa- 
 thers they have been to our liberty ! Their trade being, 
 by the same alchymy that the pope uses, to extract 
 heaps of gold and silver out of the drossy bullion of the 
 people's sins;- and justly fearing that the quicksighted 
 protestant eye, cleared in great part from the mist of 
 superstition, may at one time or other look with a good 
 judgment into these their deceitful pedleries ; to gain 
 as many associates of guiltiness as they can, and to 
 infect the temporal magistrate with the like lawless, 
 though not sacrilegious extortion, see awhile what they 
 do ; they engage themselves to preach, and persuade 
 an assertion for truth the most false, and to this mo- 
 narchy the most pernicious and destructive that could 
 be chosen. What more baneful to monarchy than a 
 popular commotion, for the dissolution of monarchy 
 slides aptest into a democracy ; and what stirs the Eng- 
 lishmen, as our wisest writers have observed, sooner to 
 rebellion, than violent and heavy hands upon their goods 
 and purses .-* Yet these devout prelates, spight of our 
 great charter, and the souls of our progenitors that 
 wrested their liberties out of the Norman gripe with 
 
16 
 
 OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 their dearest blood and highest prowess, for tliese many 
 years have not ceased in their pulpits wrenching and 
 spraining the text, to set at naught and trample under 
 foot all the most sacred and lifeblood laws, statutes, and 
 actsof parliament, that are the holy covenant of union 
 and marriage between the king and his realm, by pro- 
 scribing and confiscating from us all the right we have 
 to our own bodies, goods, and liberties. What is this but 
 to blow a trumpet, and proclaim a firecross to an heredi- 
 tary and perpetual civil war? Thus much against the 
 subjects' liberty hath been assaulted by them. Now 
 how they have spared supremacy, or are likely here- 
 after to submit to it, remains lastly' to be considered. 
 
 The emulation that under the old law was iu the 
 king towards the priest, is now so come about iu the 
 gospel, that all the danger is to be feared from the 
 priest to the king. Whilst the priest's office in the law 
 was set out with an exterior lustre of pomp and glory, 
 kings were ambitious to be priests ; now priests, not 
 perceiving the heavenly brightness and inward splen- 
 dour of their more glorious evangelic ministry, with as 
 great ambition affect to be kings, as iu all their courses 
 is easy to be observed. Their eyes ever eminent upon 
 worldly matters, their desires ever thirsting after worldly 
 employments, instead of diligent and fervent study in 
 the Bible, they covet to be expert in canons and decre- 
 tals, which may enable them to judge and interpose in 
 temporal causes, however pretended ecclesiasical. Do 
 they not hoard up pelf, seek to be potent in secular 
 strength, in state affairs, in lands, lordships, and de- 
 mains, to sway and carry all before them in high courts 
 and privy councils, to bring into their grasp the high 
 and principal offices of ihe kingdom ? Have they not 
 been told of late to check the common law, to slight 
 and brave the indiminishable majesty of our highest 
 court, the lawgiving and sacred parliament? Do they 
 not plainly labour to exempt churchmen from the ma- 
 gistrate ? Yea, so presumptuously as to qucbiion and 
 menace officers that represent the king's person for using 
 their authority against drunken priests ? Tiie cause of 
 protecting murderous clergymen was the first heart- 
 burning that swelled up the audacious Becket to the 
 pestilent and odious vexation of Henry the Second. 
 Nay more, have not some of their devoted scholars be- 
 gun, I need not say to nibble, but openly to argue 
 against the king's supremacy ? Is not the chief of them 
 accused out of his own book, and his late canons, to 
 affect a certain unquestionable patriarchate, indepen- 
 dent, and unsubordinate to the crown ? From whence 
 having first brought us to a servile state of religion 
 and manhood, and having predisposed his conditions 
 with the pope, that lays claim to this land, or some 
 Pepin of his own creating, it were all as likely for him 
 to aspire to the monarchy among us, as that the pope 
 could find means so on the sudden both to bereave the 
 emperor of the Roman territory with the favour of 
 Italy, and by an unexpected friend out of France, 
 while he was in danger to lose his newgot purchase, 
 beyond hope to leap into the fair exarchate of Ravenna. 
 
 A good while the pope subtly acted the lamb, writ- 
 ing to the emperor, " my lord Tiberius, my lord Mau- 
 
 ritius;" but no sooner did this his lord pluck at the 
 images and idols, but he threw off his sheep's clothing, 
 and started up a wolf, laying his paws uj)on the em- 
 peror's right, as forfeited to Peter. Why may not we 
 as well, having been forewarned at home by our re- 
 nowned Chaucer, and from abroad by the great and 
 leanied Padre Paolo, from the like beginnings, as we 
 see they are, fear the like events ? Certainly a wise 
 and provident king ought to suspect a hierarchy in his 
 realm, being ever attended, as it is, with two such 
 greedy purveyors, ambition and usurpation ; I say, he 
 ought to suspect a hierarchy to be as dangerous and 
 derogatory from his crown as a tetrarchy or a heptar- 
 chy. Yet now that the prelates had almost attained to 
 what their insolent and unbridled minds had hurried 
 them ; to thrust the laity under the despotical rule of 
 the monarch, that they themselves might confine the 
 monarch to a kind of pupillage under their hierarchy, 
 observe but how their own principles combat one an- 
 other, and supplant each one his fellow. 
 
 Having fitted us only for peace, and that a servile 
 peace, by lessening our numbers, draining our estates, 
 enfeebling our bodies, cowing our free spirits by those 
 ways as you have heard, their impotent actions cannot 
 sustain themselves the least moment, unless they would 
 rouse us up to a war fit for Cain to be the leader of; 
 an abhorred, a cursed, a fraternal war. England and 
 Scotland, dearest brothers both in nature and in Christ, 
 must be set to wade in one another's blood ; and Ire- 
 land, our free denizen, upon the back of us both, as 
 occasion should serve : a piece of service that the pope 
 and all his factors have been compassing to do ever 
 since the reformation. 
 
 But ever blessed be he, and ever glorified, that from 
 his high watchtower in the heavens, discerning the 
 crooked ways of perverse and cruel men, hath hitherto 
 maimed and infatuated all their damnable inventions, 
 and deluded their great wizards with a delusion fit for 
 fools and children : had God been so minded, he could 
 have sent a spirit of mutiny amongst us, as he did be- 
 tween Abimelech and the Sechemites, to have made our 
 funerals, and slain heaps more in number than the 
 miserable surviving remnant ; but he, when we least 
 deserved, sent out a gentle gale and message of peace 
 from the wings of those bis cherubims that fan his 
 mercyseat. Nor shall the wisdom, the moderation, 
 the christian piety, the constancy of our nobility and 
 commons of England, be ever forgotten, whose calm 
 and temperate connivance could sit still and smile out 
 the stormy bluster of men more audacious and pre- 
 cipitant than of solid and deep reach, until their own 
 fury had run itself out of breath, assailing by rash and 
 heady approaches the impregnable situation of our 
 liberty and safety, that laughed such weak enginery to 
 scorn, such poor drifts to make a national war of a sur- 
 plice brabble, a tippet scufl^c, and engage the untainted 
 honour of English knighthood to unfurl the streaming 
 red cross, or to rear the horrid standard of those fatal 
 guly dragons, for so unworthy a purpose, as to force 
 upon their fellow-subjects that which themselves are 
 weary of, the skeleton of a mass-book. Nor must the 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 patience, the fortitude, the firm obedience of the nobles 
 and people of Scotland, striving agfainst manifold pro- 
 vocations; nor must their sincere and moderate i)ro- 
 ceedings hitherto be unremenibered, to the shameful 
 conviction of all their detractors. 
 
 Go on both hand in hand, O nations, never to be dis- 
 united ; be the praise and the heroic song of all pos- 
 terity ; merit this, but seek only virtue, not to extend 
 your limits ; (for what needs to win a fading triumph- 
 ant laurel out of the tears of wretched men ?) but to 
 settle the pure worship of God in his cliurch, and jus- 
 tice in the state : then shall the hardest difficulties 
 smooth out themselves before ye ; envy shall sink to 
 hell, craft and malice be confounded, whether it be 
 homebred mischief or outlandish cunning : yea, other 
 nations will then covet to serve ye, for lordship and 
 victory are but the pages of justice and virtue. Com- 
 mit securely to true wisdom the vanquishing and un- 
 casing of craft and subtlety, which are but her twb 
 runagates : join your invincible might to do worthy 
 and godlike deeds ; and then he that seeks to break 
 your union, a cleaving curse be his inheritance to all 
 generations. 
 
 Sir, you have now at length this question for the 
 time, and as my memory would best serve me in such 
 a copious and vast theme, fully handled, and you your- 
 self may judge whether j)relacy be the only church- 
 government agreeable to monarchy. Seeing therefore 
 the perilous and confused state into which we are fallen, 
 and that to the certain knowledge of all men, through 
 the irreligious pride and hateful tyranny of prelates, 
 (as the innumerable and grievous complaints of every 
 shire cry out,) if we will now resolve to settle affairs 
 either according to pure religion or sound policy, we 
 must first of all begin roundly to cashier and cut away 
 from the public body the noisome and diseased tumour 
 of prelacy, and come from schism to unity with our 
 neighbour reformed sister-churches, which with the 
 blessing of peace and pure doctrine have now longtime 
 flourished ; and doubtless with all hearty joy and gra- 
 tulation will meet and welcome our Christian union 
 with them, as they have been all this while grieved at 
 our strangeness, and little better than separation from 
 I them. And for the discipline propounded, seeing that 
 it hath been inevitably proved that the natural and 
 fundamental causes of political happiness in all govern- 
 ments are the same, and that this church-discipline is 
 taught in the word of God, and, as we see, agrees ac- 
 cording to wish with all such states as have received 
 it ; we may infallibly assure ourselves that it will as 
 well agree with monarchy, though all the tribe of 
 Aphorismers and Politicasters would persuade us there 
 be secret and mysterious reasons against it. For upon 
 the settling hereof mark what nourishing and cordial 
 restorements to the state will follow, the ministers of 
 the gospel attending only to the work of salvation, 
 every one within his limited charge ; besides tlie dif- 
 fusive blessings of God upon all our actions, the king 
 shall sit without an old disturl)er, a daily incroacher 
 and intruder; shall rid his kingdom of a strong seques- 
 tered and collateral power; a confronting mitre, whose 
 
 potent wealth and wakeful ambition he had jj 
 to hold in jealousy: not to repeat the other \ 
 evils which only their removal will remove, a .be- 
 cause things simply pure are inconsistent in the mass 
 of nature, nor are the elements or humours in a man's 
 body exactly homogeneal ; and hence the best-founded 
 commonwealths and least barbarous have aimed at a 
 certain mixture and temperament, partaking the several 
 virtues of each other state, that each part drawing to 
 itself may keep up a steady and even uj)rightness in 
 common. 
 
 There is no civil government that hath been known, 
 no not the Spartan, not the Roman, though both for 
 this respect so much praised by the wise Polybius, 
 more divinely and harmoniously tuned, more equally 
 balanced as it were by tlie hand and scale of justice, 
 than is the commonwealth of England ; where, under 
 a free and untutored njonarch, the noblest, worthiest, 
 and most prudent men, with full approbation and suf- 
 frage of the people, have in their power the supreme 
 and final determination of highest affairs. Now if con- 
 fonnity of church-discipline to the civil be so desired, 
 there can be nothing more parallel, more uniform, than 
 when under the sovereign prince, Christ's vicegerent, 
 using tlie sceptre of David, according to God's law, the 
 godliest, the wisest, the learnedest ministers in their 
 several charges have the instructing and disciplining 
 of God's people, by whose full and free election they 
 are consecrated to that holy and e<fual aristocracy. 
 And why should not the piety and conscience of Eng- 
 lishmen, as members of tlie church, be trusted in the 
 election of pastors to functions that nothing concern a 
 monarch, as well as their worldly wisdoms are privileged 
 as members of the state in sufTraging their knights and 
 burgesses to matters that concern him nearly ? And if 
 in weighing these several offices, their difference in 
 time and quality be cast in, I know they will not turn 
 the beam ." equal judgment the moiety of a scruple. 
 We therefore having already a kind of apostolical and 
 ancient chur. h election in our state, what a perverse- 
 ness would it be in us of all others to retain forcibly a 
 kind of imperious and stately election in our church ! 
 And what a blindness to think that what is already 
 evangelical, as it were by a happy chance in our po- 
 lity, should be repugnant to that which is the same by 
 divine command in the ministry ! Thus then we see 
 that our ecclesiastical and political choices may con- 
 sent and sort as well together without any rupture in 
 the state, as Christians and freeholders. But as for 
 honour, that ought indeed to be different and distinct, 
 as either office looks a several way ; the minister whose 
 calling and end is spiritual, ought to be honoured as a 
 father and physician to the soul, (if he be found to be 
 so,) with a sonlike and disciplelike reverence, which is 
 indeed the dearest and most affectionate honour, most 
 to be desired by a wise man, and such as will easily 
 command a free and plentiful provision of outward 
 necessaries, without his further care of this world. 
 
 The magistrate, whose charge is to see to our per- 
 sons and estates, is to be honoured with a more elabo- 
 rate and personal courtship, with large salaries and 
 
18 
 
 OF REFORMATION IN ENGIAM). 
 
 stipends, that he himself may abound in those things 
 whereof his legal justice and watchful care gives us 
 the quiet enjoyment. And this distinction of honour 
 w ill bring forth a seemly and grraceful uniformity over 
 all the kingdom. 
 
 Then shall the nobles pos-sess all the dignities and 
 offices of temporal honour to themselves, sole lords 
 without the improper mixture of scholastic and pusilla- 
 nimous upstarts ; the parliament shall void her upper 
 bouse of the same annoyances; the common and civil 
 laws shall be both set free, the former from the con- 
 trol, the other from the mere vassalage and copyhold 
 of the clergy. 
 
 And whereas temporal laws rather punish men when 
 they have transgressed, than form them to be such as 
 should transgress seldomest, we may conceive great 
 hopes, through the showers of divine benediction water- 
 ing the unmolested and watchful pains of the ministry, 
 that the whole inheritance of God will grow up so 
 straight and blameless, that tlie civil magistrate may 
 with far less toil and difficulty, and far more ease and 
 delight, steer the tall and goodly vessel of the common- 
 wealth through all the gusts and tides of the world's 
 mutability. 
 
 Here I might have ended, but that some objections, 
 which I have heard commonly flying about, press me 
 to the endeavour of an answer. We must not run, they 
 say, into sudden extremes. This is a fallacious rule, 
 unless understood only of the actions of virtue about 
 things indifferent: for if it be found that those two ex- 
 tremes be vice and virtue, falsehood and truth, the 
 greater extremity of virtue and superlative truth we run 
 into, the more virtuous and the more wise we become ; 
 and he that, flying from degenerate and traditional 
 corruption, fears to shoot himself too far into the meet- 
 ing embraces of a divinely warranted reformation, had 
 better not have run at s ' *■ And for the suddenness, it 
 cannot be feared. Who rtfMild oppose it ? The papists ? 
 tliey dare not. The prostestants otherwise affected ? 
 they were mad. There is nothing will be removed but 
 what to them is professedly indifferent. The long 
 aflfectiou which the people have borne to it, what for 
 itself, what for the odiousness of prelates, is evident : 
 from the ffrst year of Queen Elizabeth it hath still been 
 more and more propounded, desired, and beseeched, 
 yea sometimes favourably forwarded by the parliaments 
 themselves. Yet if it were sudden and swift, provided 
 still it be from worse to better, certainly we ought to 
 hie us from evil like a torrent, and rid ourselves of 
 corrupt discipline, as we would shake Are out of our 
 bosoms. 
 
 Speedy and vehement were the reformations of all 
 the good kings of Judah, though the people had been 
 nuzzled in idolatry ever so long before ; thoy feared not 
 the bugbear danger, nor the lion in the way that the 
 sluggish and timorous politician thinks he sees; no 
 more did our brethren of the reformed churches abroad, 
 they ventured (God being their guide) out of rigid 
 popery, into that which we in mockery call precise 
 puritanism, and yet we see no inconvenience befel 
 them. 
 
 Let us not dally with God when he offers us a full 
 blessing, to take as much of it as we think will serve 
 our ends, and turn him back the rest upon his hands, 
 lest in his anger he snatch all from us again. Next, 
 they allege the antiquity of episcopacy through all 
 ages. What it was in the apostles' time, that question- 
 less it must be still ; and therein I trust the ministers 
 will be able to satisfy the parliament. But if episco- 
 pacy be taken for prelacy, all the ages they can de- 
 duce it through, will make it no more venerable than 
 papacy. 
 
 Most ceruin it is (as all our stories bear witness) 
 that ever since their coming to the see of Canterbury 
 for near twelve hundred years, to speak of them in 
 general, they have been in England to our souls a sad 
 and doleful succession of illiterate and blind guides ; 
 to our purses and goods a wasteful band of robbers, a 
 perpetual havock and rapine ; to our state a continual 
 hydra of mischief and molestation, the forge of discord 
 and rebellion : this is the trophy of their antiquity, and 
 boasted succession through so many ages. And for 
 those prelate-martyrs they glory of, they are to be 
 judged what they were by the gospel, and not the 
 gospel to be tried by them. 
 
 And it is to be noted, that if they were for bishop- 
 rics and ceremonies, it was in their prosperity and ful- 
 ness of bread ; but in their persecution, which purified 
 them, and near their death, which was their garland, 
 they plainly disliked and condemned the ceremonies, 
 and threw away those episcopal ornaments wherein 
 they were installed as foolish and detestable ; for so 
 the words of Ridley at his degradement, and his letter 
 to Hooper, expressly show. Neither doth the author 
 of our church-history spare to record sadly the fall (for 
 so he terms it) and infirmities of these martyrs, though 
 we would deify them. And why should their martyr- 
 dom more countenance corrupt doctrine or discipline, 
 than their subscriptions justify their treason to the 
 royal blood of this realm, by diverting and entailing 
 the right of the crown from the true heirs, to the houses 
 of Northumberland and Suff()lk ? which had it took 
 effect, this present king had in all likelihood never sat 
 on this throne, and the happy union of this island bad 
 been frustrated. 
 
 Lastly, whereas they add that some the leamedest 
 of the reformed abroad admire our episcopacy ; it had 
 been more for the strength of the argument to tell us, 
 that some of the wisest statesmen admire it, for thereby 
 we might guess them weary of the present disciplin< 
 as off*ensive to their state, which is the bug we feai 
 but being they are churchmen, we may rather suspect 
 them for some prelatizing spirits that admire our 
 bishoprics, not episcopacy. 
 
 The next objection vanishes of itself, propounding a 
 doubt, whether a greater inconvenience would not 
 grow from the corruption of any other discipline than 
 from that of episcopacy. This seems an unseasonable 
 foresight, and out of order, to defer and put off" tiie 
 most needful constitution of one right discipline, while 
 we stand balancing the discommodities of two corrupt 
 ones. First constitute that which is right, and of itself 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGIAND. 
 
 19 
 
 It will discover and rectify tiiat wliich sweires, and 
 easily remedy tlie pretended fear of having- a pope in 
 every parish, unless we call the zealous and meek cen- 
 sure of the church a popedom, which whoso does, let 
 him advise how he can reject the pastorly rod and 
 sheephook of Christ, and those cords of love, and not 
 fear to fall under the iron sceptre of his anger, that 
 will dash him to pieces like a potsherd. 
 
 At another doubt of theirs I wonder, whether this 
 discipline which we desire he such as can be put in 
 practice within this kingdom ; they say it cannot stand 
 with the common law nor with the king's safety, the 
 government of episcopacy is now so weaved into the 
 common law. In God's name let it weave out again ; 
 let not human quillets keep back divine authority. It 
 is not the common law, nor the civil, but piety and 
 justice that are our foundresses ; they stoop not, neither 
 change colour for aristocracy, democracy, or monarchy, 
 nor yet at all interrupt their just courses ; but far above 
 the taking notice of these inferior niceties, with perfect 
 sympathy, wherever they meet, kiss each other. Lastly, 
 they are fearful that the discipline which will succeed 
 cannot stand with the king's safety. Wherefore ? it 
 is but episcopacy reduced to what it should be : were 
 it not that the tyranny of prelates under the name of 
 bishops had made our ears tender and startling, we 
 might call every good minister a bishop, as every 
 bishop, yea the apostles themselves, are called minis- 
 ters, and the angels ministering spirits, and the 
 ministers again angels. But wherein is this pro- 
 pounded government so shrewd ? Because the govern- 
 ment of assemblies will succeed. Did not the apostles 
 govern the church by assemblies? How should it else 
 be catholic ? How should it have communion ? We 
 count it sacrilege to take from the rich prelates their 
 lands and revenues, which is sacrilege in them to keep, 
 using them as they do ; and can wc think it safe to de- 
 fraud the living church of God of that right which 
 God has given her in assemblies.'* but the conse- 
 quence! assemblies draw to them the supremacy of 
 ecclesiastical jurisdiction. No surely, they draw no 
 supremacy, but that authority which Christ, and St. 
 Paul in his name, confers upon them. The king may 
 still retain the same supremacy in the assemblies, as in 
 the parliament ; here he can do nothing alone against 
 the common law, and there neither alone, nor with 
 consent, against the Scriptures. But is this all ? No, 
 this ecclesiastical supremacy draws to it the power to 
 excommunicate kings; and then follows the worst that 
 can be imagined. Do they hope to avoid this, by 
 keeping prelates that have so often done it. •" Not to 
 exemplify the malapert insolence of our own bishops 
 in this kind towards our kings, I shall turn back to the 
 primitive and pure times, which the objectors would 
 have the rule of reformation to us. 
 
 Not an assembly, but one bishop alone, Saint Am- 
 brose of Milan, held Theodosius the most christian em- 
 peror under excommunication above eight months 
 together, drove him from the church in the presence of 
 his nobles ; which the good emperor bore with heroic 
 humility, and never ceased by prayers and tears, till 
 c 
 
 he was absolved; for which coming to the bishop with 
 supplication into the salutatory, some outporch of the 
 church, he was charged by him with tyrannical madness 
 against God, for coming into holy ground. At last, 
 upon conditions absolved, and after great humiliation 
 approaching to the altar to offer, (as those thrice pure 
 times then thought meet,) he had scarce withdrawn his 
 hand, and stood awhile, when a bold archdeacon comes 
 in the bishop's name, and chaces him from within the 
 rails, telling him peremptorily, that the place wherein 
 he stood was for none but the priests to enter, or to 
 touch ; and this is another piece of pure primitive 
 divinity ! Think ye, then, our bishops will forego the 
 power of excommunication on whomsoever ? No cer- 
 tainly, unless to compass sinister ends, and then revoke 
 when they see their time. And yet this most mild, 
 though withal dreadful and inviolable prerogative of 
 Christ's diadem, excommunication, serves for nothing 
 with them, but to prog and pander for fees, or to display 
 their pride, and sharpen their revenge, debarring men 
 the protection of the law ; and I remember not whether 
 in some cases it bereave not men all right to their 
 worldly goods and inheritances, besides the denial of 
 christian burial. But in the evangelical and reform- 
 ed use of this sacred censure, no such prostitution, 
 no such iscariotical drifts are to be doubted, as that 
 spiritual doom and sentence .should invade worldly 
 possession, which is the rightful lot and portion even 
 of the wickedest men, as frankly bestowed upon 
 them by the all-dispensing bounty as rain and sun- 
 shine. No, no, it seeks not to bereave or destroy the 
 body ; it seeks to save the soul by humbling the body, 
 not by imprisonment, or pecuniary mulct, much less 
 by stripes or bonds, or disinheritance, but by fatherly 
 admonishment and christian rebuke, to cast it into 
 godly sorrow, whose end is joy, and ingenuous bash- 
 fulness to sin: if thrt <nnot be wrought, then as a 
 tender mother takes h child and holds it over the 
 pit with scaring words, that it may learn to fear where 
 danger is; so doth excimmunicalion as dearly and 
 as freely, without money, use her wholesome and 
 saving terrours : she is instant, she beseeches, by all 
 the dear and sweet promises of salvation she entices 
 and woos; by all the threatenings and thunders (»f the 
 law, and rejected gospel, she charges, and adjures : this 
 is all her armory, her munition, her artillery ; then she 
 awaits with long-sufferance, and yet ardent zeal. In 
 brief, there is no act in all the errand of God's ministers 
 to mankind, wherein passes more loverlike contesta- 
 tion between Christ and the soul of a regenerate man 
 lapsing, than before, and in, and after the sentence of 
 excommunication. As for the fogging proctorage of 
 money, with such an eye as struck Gehazi with leprosy, 
 and Simon Magus with a curse ; so does she look, and 
 so threaten her fiery whip against that banking den of 
 thieves that dare thus baffle, and buy and sell the aw- 
 ful and majestic wrinkles of her brow. He that is 
 rightly and apostolically sped with her invisible arrow, 
 if he can be at peace in his soul, and not smell within 
 him the brimstone of hell, may have fair leave to tell 
 all his bags over undiminished of the least farthing, may 
 
•20 
 
 OF REFORMATION Ix\ ENGLAND. 
 
 cat iliN ilaiiiiics, drink his uine, use his delights, enjoy 
 his lands and liberties, not the least skin raised, not the 
 least hair misplaced, Cur all that excommunication has 
 done : much more may a kingf enjoy his rights and 
 prerogatives undetiowered, untouched, and be as abso- 
 lute and complete a king, as all his royalties and reve- 
 nues can make him. And therefore little did Theodosius 
 fear a plot upon his empire, when he stood excommu- 
 nicate by Saint Ambrose, though it were done eitlier 
 with much haughty pride, or ignorant zeal. But let 
 us rather look upon the reformed churches beyond the 
 seas, the Grizons, the Swisses, the Hollanders, the 
 French, that have a supremacy to live under as well as 
 we ; where do the churches in all these places strive for 
 supremacy ? Where do they clash and justle suprema- 
 cies with the civil magistrate ? In B'rance, a more severe 
 monarchy than ours, the protestants under this church- 
 government, carry the name of the best subjects the 
 king has ; and yet presbytery, if it must be so called, 
 does there all that it desires to do : how easy were it, 
 if there be such great suspicion, to give no more scope 
 to it in England ! But let us not, for fear of a scarecrow, 
 or else through hatred to be reformed, stand hankering 
 and politizing, when God with spread hands testifies 
 to us, aud points us out the way to our peace. 
 
 Let us not be so overcredulous, unless God hath 
 blinded us, as to trust our dear souls into the hands of 
 men that beg so devoutly for the pride and gluttony of 
 their own backs and bellies, that sue and solicit so 
 eagerly, not for the saving of souls, the consideration 
 of which can have here no place at all, but for their 
 bishopries, deaneries, prebends, and canonries : how 
 can these men not be corrupt, whose very cause is the 
 bribe of their own pleading, whose mouths cannot open 
 without the strong breath and loud stench of avarice, 
 simony, aud sacrilege, embezzling the treasury of the 
 church on painted and gilded walls of temples, wherein 
 God hath testified to have no delight, warming their 
 palace kitchens, and from thence their unctuous and 
 epicurean paunches, with tbb alms of the blind, the 
 lame, the impotent, the aged, the orphan, the widow ? 
 for with these the treasury of Christ ought to be, here 
 roust be his jewels bestowed, his rich cabinet must be 
 emptied here ; as the constant martyr Saint Lawrence 
 taught the Roman prtetor. Sir, would you know what 
 the remonstrance of these men would have, what tin-ir 
 petition implies ? They intrcat us that we would not 
 be weary of those insupportable grievances that our 
 shoulders have hitherto cracked under ; they beseech 
 us that we would think them fit to be our justices of 
 peace, our lords, our highest officers of state, though 
 they come furnished with n(» more experience than they 
 learnt between the cook and the manciple^ or more 
 profoundly at the college audit, or the regent house, or 
 to come to their deepest insight, at their patron's table ; 
 they would request us to endure still the rustling of their 
 silken rassocs, and that we would burst our midriffs, 
 rather than laugh to see them under sail in all their 
 lawn and sarcenet, their shrouds and tackle, with a 
 geometrical rhoniboidcs upon their heads : they would 
 bear us in hand that we must of duty still appear before 
 
 them once a year in Jerusalem, like good circumcised 
 males and females, to be taxed by the poll, to be sconced 
 our headmoney,our twopences, in their chandlerly shop- 
 book of Easter. They pray us that it would please us 
 to let them still hale us, and worry us with their bandogs 
 and pursuivants ; and that it would please the parlia- 
 ment that they may yet have the whipping, fleecing, 
 and flaying of us in their diabolical courts, to tear the 
 flesh from our bones, and into our wide wounds instead 
 of balm, to pour in the oil of tartar, vitriol, and mercury : 
 surely a right reasonable, innocent, and soft-hearted 
 petition. O the relenting bowels of the fathers ! Can 
 this be granted them, unless God have smitten us with 
 frenzy from above, and with a dazzling giddiness at 
 noonday ? Should not those men rather be heard tliat 
 come to plead against their own preferments, their 
 worldly advantages, their own abundance ; for honour 
 and obedience to God's word, the conversion of souls, 
 the christian peace of the land, and union of the re- 
 formed catholic church, the unappropriating and unmo- 
 nopolizing the rewards of learning and industry, from 
 the greasy clutch of ignorance and high feeding ? We 
 have tried already, and miserably felt what ambition, 
 worldly glory, and immoderate wealth, can do ; what 
 the boisterous and contradictional hand of a temporal, 
 earthly, and corporeal spirituality can avail to the edi- 
 fying of Christ's holy church ; were it such a desperate 
 hazard to put to the venture the universal votes of 
 Christ's congregation, and fellowly aud friendly yoke 
 of a teaching and laborious ministry, the pastorlike and 
 apostolic imitation of meek and unlordly discipline, the 
 gentle and benevolent mediocrity of church-mainte- 
 nance, without the ignoble hucksterage of piddling 
 tithes ? Were it such an incurable mischief to make a 
 little trial, what all this would do to the flourishing 
 and growing up of Christ's mystical body ? as rather 
 to use every poor shift, and if that serve not, to threaten 
 uproar and combustion, and shake the brand of civil 
 discord ? 
 
 0,sir, I do now feel myself inwrapped on the sudden 
 into those mazes and labyrinths of dreadful and hideous 
 thoughts, that which way to get out, or which way to 
 end, 1 know not, unless I turn mine eyes, and with your 
 help lift up my hands to that eternal and propitious 
 Throne, where nothing is readier than grace and refuge 
 to the distresses of mortal suppliants : and it were a 
 shame to leave these serious thoughts less piously than 
 the heathen were wont to conclude their graver dis- 
 courses. 
 
 Thou, therefore, that sittest in light and glory unap*^ 
 proachable. Parent of angels and men ! next, thee I 
 implore, omnipotent King, Redeemer of that lost rem- 
 nant who^e nature thou didst assume, ineffable and 
 everlasting Love ! and thou, the third subsistence of 
 divine infinitude, illumining Spirit, the joy and solace 
 of created things! one Tripersonal godhead ! look upon 
 this thy poor and almost spent and expiring church, 
 leave her not thus a prey to these importunate wolves, 
 that wait and think long till they devour thy tender 
 tlock ; these wihl boars that have broke into thy vine- 
 yard, and left the print of their polluting hoofs on the 
 
OF REFORMATION IN ENGLAND. 
 
 21 
 
 souls of thy servants. O let them not bring about tlieir 
 damned designs, that stand now at the entrance of the 
 bottomless pit, expecting the watchword to open and 
 let out those dreadful locusts and scorpions, to reinvolve 
 us in that pitchy cloud of infernal darkness, where we 
 shall never more see the sun of thy truth again, never hope 
 for the cheerful dawn, never more hear the bird of morn- 
 ing sing. Be moved with pity at the afflicted state of 
 this our shaken monarchy, that now lies labouring under 
 her throes, and struggling against the grudges of more 
 dreaded calamities. 
 
 O thou, that, after the impetuous rage of five bloody 
 inundations, and the succeeding sword of intestine war, 
 soaking the land in her own gore, didst pity the sad 
 and ceaseless revolution of our swift and thick-coming 
 sorrows ; when we were quite breathless, of thy free 
 grace didst motion peace, and terms of covenant with 
 us ; and having first wellnigh freed us from antichristian 
 thraldom, didst build up this Britannic empire to a glo- 
 rious and enviable height, with all her daughter-islands 
 about her ; stay us in this felicity, let not the obstinacy 
 of our half-obedience and will-worship bring forth that 
 viper of sedition, that for these fourscore years hath been 
 breeding to eat through the entrails of our peace ; but 
 let her cast her abortive spawn without the danger of 
 this travailing and throbbing kingdom : that we may 
 still remember in our solemn thanksgivings, how for 
 us, the northern ocean even to the frozen Thule was 
 scattered with the proud shipwrecks of the Spanish 
 armada, and the very maw of hell ransacked, and made 
 to give up her concealed destruction, ere she could vent 
 it in that horrible and damned blast. 
 
 how much more glorious will those former deliver- 
 ances appear, when we shall know them not only to 
 have saved us from greatest miseries past, but to have 
 reserved us for greatest happiness to come ! Hitherto 
 thou hast but freed us, and that not fully, from the un- 
 just and tyrannous claim of thy foes; now unite us en- 
 tirely, and appropriate us to thyself, tie us everlastingly 
 in willing homage to the prerogative of thy eternal 
 throne. 
 
 And- now we know, O thou our most certain hope and 
 defence, that thine enemies have been consulting all the 
 sorceries of the great whore, and have joined their plots 
 with that sad intelligencing tyrant that mischiefs the 
 
 world with his mines of Ophir, and lies thirsting to re- 
 venge his naval ruins that have lardetl our seas : but let 
 them all take counsel together, and let it come to nought; 
 let them decree, and do thou cancel it ; let them gather 
 themselves, and be scattered ; let them embattle them- 
 selves, and be broken ; let them embattle, and be broken, 
 for thou art with us. 
 
 Then, amidst the hymns and hallelujahs of saints, 
 some one may perhaps be heard offering at high strains 
 in new and lofty measures, to sing and celebrate thy 
 divine mercies and marvellous judgments in this land 
 throughout all ages ; whereby this great and warlike 
 nation, instructed and inured to the fervent and contin- 
 ual practice of truth and righteousness, and casting far 
 from her the rags of her old vices, may press on hard 
 to that high and happy emulation to be found the sober- 
 est, wisest, and most christian people at that day, when 
 thou, the eternal and shortly-expected King,shalt open 
 the clouds to judge the several kingdoms of the world, 
 and distributing national honours and rewards to reli- 
 gious and just commonwealths, shalt put an end to all 
 earthly tyrannies, proclaiming thy universal and mild 
 monarchy through heaven and earth ; where they un- 
 doubtedly, that by their labours, counsels, and prayers, 
 have been earnest for the common good of religion and 
 their country, shall receive above the inferiour orders 
 of the blessed, the regal addition of principalities, 
 legions, and thrones into their glorious titles, and in 
 supereminence of beatific vision, progressing the date- 
 less and irrevoluble circle of eternity, shall clasp inse- 
 parable hands with joy and bliss, in overmeasure for 
 ever. 
 
 But they contrary, that by the impairing and dimi- 
 nution of the true faith, the distresses and servitude of 
 their country, aspire to high dignity,rule,and promotion 
 here, after a shameful end in this life, (which God 
 grant them,) shall be thrown down eternally into the 
 darkest and deepest gulf of hell, where, under the 
 despiteful control, the trample and spurn of all the 
 other damned, that in the anguish of their torture, shall 
 have no other ease than to exercise a raving and bestial 
 tyranny over them as their slaves and negroes, they 
 shall remain in that plight for ever, the basest, the 
 lowermost, the most dejected, most underfoot, and 
 downtrodden vassals of perdition. 
 
PRELATICAL EPISCOPACY, 
 
 ANU WHETHER IT MAY BE DEDUCED FROM THE APOSTOLICAL TIMES, BY VIRTUE OF THOSE TESTIMONIES 
 WHICH ARE ALLEGED TO THAT PURPOSE IN SOME LATE TREATISES; ONE WHEREOF GOES UNDER THE NAME 
 OF JAMES ARCHBISHOP OF ARMAGH. 
 
 [first publkbkd 1641.] 
 
 Episcopacy, as it is taken for an order in the church 
 above a presbyter, or, as we commonly name him, the 
 minister of a congregation, is either of divine constitu- 
 tion or of human. If only of human, we have the 
 same human privilege that all men have ever had since 
 Adam, being born free, and" in the mistress island of 
 all the British, to retain this episcopacy, or to remove 
 it, consulting with our own occasions and conveniences, 
 and for the prevention of our own dangers and dis- 
 quiets, in what best manner we can devise, without 
 running at a loss, as we must needs in those stale and 
 useless records of either uncertain or unsound an- 
 tiquity; which, if we hold fa.st to the grounds of the 
 reformed church, can neither skill of us, nor we of it, 
 so oft as it would lead us to the broken reed of tradi- 
 tion. If it be of divine constitution, to satisfy us fully 
 in that, the Scripture only is able, it being the only 
 book left us of divine authority, not in any thing more 
 divine than in the allsufficiency it hath to furnish u», 
 as with all other spiritual knowledge, so with this in 
 particular, setting out to us a perfect man of God, ac- 
 complished to all the good works of his charge : through 
 all which book can be nowhere, either by plain text or 
 solid reasoning, found any difference between a bishop 
 and a presbyter, save that they be two names to sig- 
 nify the same order. Notwithstanding this clearness, 
 and that by all evidence of argument, Timothy and 
 Titus (whom our prelates claim to imitate only in the 
 controlling part of their office) had rather the vicege- 
 rency of an apostleship committed to them, than the 
 ordinary charge of a bishopric, as being men of an ex- 
 traordinary calling ; yet to verify that which St. Paul 
 foretold of succeeding times, when men began to have 
 itching ears, then not contented with the plentiful and 
 wholesome fountains of the gospel, they began after 
 their own lusts to heap to themselves teachers, and as 
 if the divine Scripture wanted a supplement, and were 
 to be eked out, they cannot think any doubt resolved, 
 
 and any doctrine confirmed, unless they run to that in- 
 digested heap and fry of authors which they call an- 
 tiquity. Whatsoever time, or the heedless hand of 
 blind chance, hath drawn down from of old to this pre- 
 sent, in her huge drag-net, whether fish or sea-weed, 
 shells or shrubs, unpicked, unchosen, those are the 
 fathers. Seeing, therefore, some men, deeply conver-" 
 sant in books, have had so little care of late to give the 
 world a better account of their reading, than by divulg- 
 ing needless tractates stuffed with specious names of 
 Ignatius and Polycarpus ; with fragments of old mar- 
 tyrologies and legends, to distract and stagger the 
 multitude of credulous readers, and mislead them from 
 their strong guards and places of safety, under the 
 tuition of holy writ; it came into my thoughts to per- 
 suade myself, setting all distances and nice respects 
 aside, that I could do religfion and my country no 
 better service for the time, than doing my utmost en- 
 deavour to recall the people of God from this vain 
 foraging after straw, and to reduce them to their firm 
 stations under the standard of the gospel ; by making 
 appear to them, first the insufficiency, next the incon- 
 venicncy, and lastly the impiety of these gay testimo- 
 nies, that their great doctors would bring them to 
 dote on. And in performing this, I shall not strive 
 to be more exact in method, than as their citations 
 lead me. 
 
 First, therefore, concerning Ignatius shall be treated 
 fully, when the author shall come to insist upon some 
 places in his epistles. Next, to prove a succession of 
 twenty-seven bishops from Timothy, he cites one Le- 
 ontius bishop of Magnesia, out of the llth act of the 
 Chalcedonian council : this is but an obscure and sin- 
 gle witness, and for his faithful dealing who shall com- 
 mend him to us, with this his catalogue of bishops ? 
 What know we further of him, but that he might be as 
 factious and false a bishop as Lcontius of Antioch,that 
 was a hundred years his predecessor? For neither the 
 
OF PRELATICAL EPISCOPACY. 
 
 23 
 
 praise of his wisdom, or his virtue, hath left him me- 
 morable to posterity, but ouly this doubtful relation, 
 which we must take at his word : and how shall this 
 testimony receive credit from his word, whose very 
 name had scarce been thought on but for this bare tes- 
 timony ? But they will say, he was a member of the 
 council, and that may deserve to gain hira credit with 
 us. I will not stand to argue, as yet with fair allow- 
 ance I might, that we may as justly suspect there were 
 some bad and slippery men in that council, as we know 
 there are wont to be in our convocations : nor shall I 
 need to plead at this time, that nothing hath been more 
 attempted, nor with more subtlety brought about, both 
 anciently by other heretics, and modemly by papists, 
 than to falsify the editions of the councils, of which we 
 have none, but from our adversaries' hands, whence 
 canons, acts, and whole spurious councils are tlirust 
 upon us ; and hard it would be to prove in all, which 
 are legitimate, against the lawful rejection of an urgent 
 and free disputer. But this I purpose not to take ad- 
 vantaffe of; for what avails it to wrangle about the 
 corrupt editions of councils, whenas we know that many 
 years ere this time, which was almost five hundred 
 years after Christ, the councils themselves were foully 
 corrupted with ungodly prelatism, and so far plunged 
 into worldly ambition, as that it stood them upon long 
 ere this to uj)hold their now well tasted hierarchy by 
 what fair pretext soever they could, in like manner as 
 they had now learned to defend many otlier gross cor- 
 ruptions by as ancient, and supposed authentic tradition 
 as episcopacy ? And what hope can we have of this 
 whole council to warrant us a matter, four hundred 
 years at least above their time, concerning the distinc- 
 tion of bishop and presbyter, whenas we find them such 
 blind judges of things before their eyes, iu their decrees 
 of precedency between bishop and bishop, acknowledg- 
 ing Rome for the apostolic throne, and Peter, in that 
 see, for the rock, the basis, and the foundation of the 
 catholic church and faith,contrary to the interpretation 
 of more ancient fathers ? And therefore from a mistaken 
 text did they give to Leo, as Peter's successor, a kind 
 of preeminence above the whole council, as Euagrius 
 expresses ; (for now the pope was come to that height, 
 as to arrogate to himself by his vicars incompetible 
 honours ;) and yet having thus yielded to Rome, the 
 universal primacy for spiritual reasons, as they thought, 
 they conclude their sitting with a carnal and ambitious 
 decree, to give the second place of dignity to Constan- 
 tinople from reason of state, because it was New Rome; 
 and by like consequence doubtless of earthly privileges 
 annexed to each other city, was the bishop thereof to 
 take his place. 
 
 I may say again therefore, what hope can we have 
 of such a council, as, beginning in the spirit, ended 
 thus in the flesh ? Much rather should we attend to 
 what Eusebius, the ancientest writer extant of church- 
 history, notwithstanding all the helps he had above 
 these, confesses in the 4th chapter of his third book, 
 That it was no easy matter to tell who were those that 
 were left bishops of the churches by the apostles, more 
 than by what a man might gather from the Acts of the 
 
 Apostles, and the Epistles of St. Paul, in which number 
 he reckons Timothy for bishop of Ephesus. So as may 
 plainly appear, that this tradition of bishoping Timothy 
 over Ephesus was but taken for granted out of that 
 place in .St. Paul, which was only an intreating him to 
 tarry at Ephesus, to do something left hiiu in charge. 
 Now, if Eusebius, a famous writer, thought it so diffi- 
 cult to tell who were appointed bishops by the apostles, 
 much more may we think it difficult to Leontius, an 
 obscure bishop, speaking beyond his own diocess : and 
 certainly much more hard was it for either of them to 
 determine what kind of bishops these were, if they had 
 so little means to know who they were ; and much less 
 reason have we to stand to their definitive sentence, 
 seeing they have been so rash to raise up such lofty 
 bishops and bishoprics out of places in Scripture merely 
 misunderstood. Thus while we leave the Bible to gad 
 after the traditions of the ancients, we hear the ancients 
 themselves confessing, that what knowledge they had 
 in this point was such as they had gathered from the 
 Bible. 
 
 Since therefore antiquity itself hath turned over the 
 controversy to that sovereign book which we had fondly 
 straggled from, we shall do better not to detain this 
 venerable apparition of Leontius any longer, but dis- 
 miss him with his list of seven and twenty, to sleep 
 unmolested iu his former obscurity. 
 
 Now for the word 7rpot<rwc> it is more likely that 
 Timothy never knew tlie word in that sense : it was 
 the vanity of those next succeeding times not to con- 
 tent themselves with the simplicity of scripture-phrase, 
 but must make a new lexicon to name themselves by ; 
 one will be called TrpojTtif, or antistes, a word of pre- 
 cedence ; another would be termed a gnostic, as Cle- 
 mens ; a third sacerdos, or priest, and talks of altars ; 
 which was a plain sign that their doctrine began to 
 change, for which they must change their expressions. 
 But that place of Justin Martyr serves rather to con- 
 vince the author, than to make for him, where the name 
 irpotTrJj: rwv aSi\(f>CJv, the president or pastor of the 
 brethren, (for to what end is he their president, but to 
 teach them ?) cannot be limited to signify a prelatical 
 bishop, but rather communicates that Greek appella- 
 tion to every ordinary presbyter : for there he tells 
 what the Christians had wont to do in their several 
 congregations, to read and expound, to pray and ad- 
 minister, all which he says the irpot<ru>Q, or antistes, 
 did. Are these the offices only of a bishop, or shall 
 we think that every congregation where these things 
 were done, which he attributes to this antistes, had a 
 bishop present among them ? Unless they had as 
 many antistites as presbyters, which this place rather 
 seems to imply ; and so we may infer even from their 
 own alleged authority, " that antistes was nothing else 
 but presbyter." 
 
 As for that nameless treatise of Timothy's martyrdom, 
 only cited by Photius that lived almost nine hundred 
 years after Christ, it handsomely follows in that author 
 the martyrdom of the seven sleepers, that slept (I tell 
 you but what mine author says) three hundred and 
 seventy and two years ; for so long they had been shut 
 
24 
 
 OF PRELATICAL EPISCOPACY. 
 
 up in a cave without meat, and were founfl living'. 
 This story of Timothy's Ephcsian bishopric, as it fol- 
 lows in order, so may it for truth, if it only subsist upon 
 its own authority, as it doth ; for Photius only saith he 
 read it, he does not aver it. That other lejjendary 
 piece found among' the lives of the saints, and sent us 
 from the shop of the Jesuits at Louvain, does but bear 
 the name of Polycrates ; how truly, who can tell ? 
 and shall have some more weight with us, when Poly- 
 crates can persuade us of that which he affirms in the 
 same place of Eusebius's fifth book, that St. John was 
 a priest, and wore the golden breastplate : and why 
 should he convince us more with his traditions of 
 Timothy's episcopacy, than he could convince Victor 
 bishop of Rome with his traditions concerning the feast 
 of Easter, who, not regarding his irrefragable instances 
 of examples taken from Philip and his daughters that 
 were prophetesses, or from Polycarpus, no nor from 
 St. John himself, excommunicated both him, and all 
 the Asian churches, for celebrating their Easter judai- 
 cally ? He may therefore go back to the seven bishops 
 bis kinsmen, and make his moan to them, that we 
 esteem his traditional ware as lightly as Victor did. 
 
 Those of Theodoret, Felix, and John of Antioch, are 
 authorities of later times, and therefore not to be re- 
 ceived for their antiquity's sake to give in evidence 
 concerning an allegation, wherein writers, so much 
 their elders, we see so easily miscarry. What if they 
 had told us that Peter, who, as they say, left Ignatius 
 bishop of Antioch, went afterwards to Rome, and was 
 bishop there, as this Ignatius, and Irenseus, and all 
 antiquity with one mouth deliver .■* there be never- 
 theless a number of learned and wise protestants, who 
 have written, and will maintain, that Peter's being 
 at Rome as bishop cannot stand with concordance of 
 Scripture. 
 
 Now come the epistles of Ignatius to shew us, first, 
 that Onesimus was bishop of Ephcsus ; next, to assert 
 the difference of bishop and presbyter: wherein I 
 wonder that men, teachers of the protestant religion, 
 make no more difficulty of imposing upon our belief a 
 supposititious offspring of some dozen epistles, whereof 
 five are rejected as spurious, containing in them here- 
 sies and trifles ; which cannot agree in chronology 
 with Ignatius, entitling him archbishop of Antioch 
 Theopolis, which name of Theopolis that city had not 
 till Justinian's time, long after, as Cedrcnus mentions; 
 which ai^ues both the barbarous time, and the un- 
 skilful fraud of him that foisted this epistle upon 
 Ignatius. In the epistle to those of Tarsus, he con- 
 demns them for ministers of Satan, that say, " Christ 
 is God above all." To the Philippians, them that 
 kept their Easter as the Asian churches, as Polycarpus 
 did, and them that fasted upon any Saturday or Sunday, 
 except one, he counts as those that had slain the Lord. 
 To those of Antioch, he salutes the subdeacons, chan- 
 ters, porters, and exorcists, as if these had been orders 
 of the church in his time : those other epistles less 
 questioned, are yet so interlarded with corruptions, as 
 may justly endue us with a wholesome suspicion of the 
 rest. As to the Trallians, he writes, that " a bishop 
 
 hatli power over all beyond all government and au- 
 thority whatsoever." Surely then no pope can desire 
 more than Ignatius attributes to every bishop ; but 
 what will become then of the archbishops and primates, 
 if every bishop in Ignatius's judgment be as supreme 
 as a pope ? To the Ephesians, near the very place 
 from whence they fetch their proof for episcopacy, 
 there stands a line that casts an ill hue upon all the 
 epistle ; " Let no man err," saith he, " unless a man 
 be within the rays or enclosure of the altar, he is de- 
 prived of the bread of life." I say not but this maybe 
 stretched to a figurative construction ; but yet it has 
 an ill look, especially being followed beneath with the 
 mention of I know not what sacrifices. In the other 
 epistle to Smyrna, wherein is written that " they should 
 follow their bishop as Christ did his Father, and the 
 presbytery as the apostles ;" not to speak of the in- 
 sulse, and ill laid comparison, this cited place lies upon 
 the very brim of a noted corruption, which, had they 
 that quote this passage ventured to let us read, all men 
 would have readily seen what grain the testimony had 
 been of, where it is said, " that it is not lawful without 
 a bishop to baptize, nor to offer, nor to do sacrifice." 
 What can our church make of these phrases but scan- 
 dalous ? And but a little further he plainly falls to 
 contradict the spirit of God in Solomon, judged by the 
 words themselves ; " My son," saith he, " honour God 
 and the king ; but I say, honour God, and the bishop 
 as high-priest, bearing the image of God according to 
 his ruling, and of Christ according to his priesting, 
 and after him honour the king," Excellent Ignatius! 
 can ye blame the prelates for making much of this 
 epistle ? Certainly if this epistle can serve you to set 
 a bishop above a presbyter, it may serve you next to 
 set him above a king. These, and other like places in 
 abundance through all those short epistles, must either 
 be adulterate, or else Ignatius was not Ignatius, nor a 
 martyr, but most adulterate, and corrupt himself In 
 the midst, therefore, of so many forgeries, where shall 
 we fix to dare say this is Ignatius ? As for his style, 
 who knows it, so disfigured and interrupted as it is ? 
 except they think that where they meet with anything 
 sound, and orthodoxal, there they find Ignatius. And 
 then they believe him not for his own authority, but 
 for a truth's sake, which they derive from elsewhere : 
 to what end then should they cite him as authentic for 
 episcopacy, when they cannot know what is authentic 
 in him, but by the judgment which they brought with 
 them, and not by any judgment which they might 
 safely Icam from him ? How can they bring satisfac- 
 tion from such an author, to whose very essence the 
 reader must be fain to contribute his own understand- 
 ing ? Had God ever intended that we should have 
 sought any part of useful instruction from Ignatius, 
 doubtless he would not have so ill provided for our 
 knowledge, as to send him to our hands in this broken 
 and disjointed plight; and if he intended no such 
 thing, we do injuriously in thinking to taste better the 
 pure evangelic manna, by seasoning our mouths with 
 the tainted scraps and fragments of an unknown table ; 
 and searching among the verminous and polluted rags 
 
OF PRELATICAL EPISCOPACY. 
 
 25 
 
 dropped overworn from the toiling shoulders of time, 
 with these deformedly to quilt and interlace the entire, 
 the spotless, and undecaying robe of truth, the daughter 
 not of time, but of Heaven, only bred up here below in 
 christian hearts, between two grave and holy nurses, 
 the doctrine and discipline of the gospel. 
 
 Next follows Irenceus bishop of Lyons, who is cited 
 to affirm, that Polycarpus " was made bishop of Smyrna 
 by the apostles;" and this, it may seem, none could 
 better tell than he who had both seen and heard Poly- 
 carpus: but when did he hear him.? Himself confesses 
 to Florinus, when he was a boy. Whether that age in 
 Ireneeus may not be liable to many mistakings ; and 
 whether a boy may be trusted to take an exact account 
 of the manner of a church constitution, and upon what 
 tei-ms, and within what limits, and with what kind of 
 commission Polycarpus received his charge, let a man 
 consider, ere he be credulous. It will not be denied 
 that he might have seen Polycarpus in his youth, a 
 man of great eminence in the church, to whom the 
 other presbyters might give way for bis virtue, wisdom, 
 and the reverence of his age ; and so did Anicetus, 
 bishop of Rome, even in his own city, give him a kind 
 of priority in administering the sacrament, as may be 
 read in Eusebius : but that we should hence conclude 
 a distinct and superior order from the young observa- 
 tion of Irentpus, nothing yet alleged can warrant us; 
 unless we shall believe such as would face us down, 
 that Calvin and, after him, Beza were bishops of Ge- 
 neva, because that in the unsettled state of the church, 
 while things were not fully composed, their worth and 
 learning cast a greater share of business upon them, 
 and directed men's eyes principally towards them : 
 and yet these men were the dissolvers of episcopacy. 
 We see the same necessity in state affairs ; Brutus, 
 that expelled the kings out of Rome, was for the time 
 forced to be as it were a king himself, till matters were 
 set in order, as in a free commonwealth. He that had 
 seen Pericles lead tlie Athenians which way he listed, 
 haply would have said he had been their prince; and 
 yet he was but a powerful and eloquent man in a de- 
 mocracy, and had no more at any time than a tempo- 
 rary and elective sway, which was in the will of the 
 people when to abrogate. And it is most likely that in 
 the church, they which came after these apostolic men, 
 being less in merit, but bigger in ambition, strove to 
 invade those privileges by intrusion and plea of right, 
 which Polycarpus, and others like him possessed, from 
 the voluntary surrender of men subdued by the excel- 
 lency of their heavenly gifts ; which because their suc- 
 cessors had not, and so could neither have that autho- 
 rity, it was their policy to divulge that the eminence 
 which Polycarpus and his equals enjoyed, was by right 
 of constitution, not by free will of condescending. And 
 yet thus far Irenseus makes against them, as in that 
 very place to call Polycarpus an apostolical presbyter. 
 But what fidelity his relations had in general, we can- 
 not sooner learn than by Eusebius, who, near the end 
 of his third book, speaking of Papias, a very ancient 
 writer, one that had heard St. John, and was known to 
 many that had seen and been acquainted with others 
 
 of the apostles, but being of a shallow wit, and not 
 understanding tliose traditions which he received, filled 
 his writings witli many new doctrines, and fabulous 
 conceits : he tells us there, that " divers ecclesiastical 
 men, and Irenieus among the rest, while they looked at 
 bis antiquity, became infected with his errours." Now, 
 if IreniPus was so rash as to take unexamined opinions 
 from an author of so small capacity, when he was a 
 man, we should be more rash ourselves to rely upon 
 those observations w hich he made when he was a boy. 
 And this may be a sufficient reason to us why we need 
 no longer muse at the spreading of many idle traditions 
 so soon after the apostles, while such as this Papias 
 had the throwing them about, and the inconsiderate 
 zeal of the next age, that heeded more the person than 
 the doctrine, had the gathering them up. Wherever a 
 man, who had been any way conversant with the apos- 
 tles, was to be found, thither flew all the inquisitive 
 ears, altliough tlie exercise of right instructing was 
 changed into the curiosity of impertinent fabling : 
 where the mind was to be edified with solid doctrine, 
 there the fancy was soothed with solemn stories : with 
 less fervency was studied what St. Paul or St. John 
 had written, than was listened to one that could say, 
 Here he taught, here he stood, this was his stature ; 
 and thus he went habited ; and, O happy this house 
 that harboured him, and that cold stone whereon he 
 rested, this village wherein he wrought such a miracle, 
 and that pavement bedewed with the warm effusion of 
 his last blood, that sprouted up into eternal roses to 
 crown his martyrdom. Thus, while all their thoughts 
 were poured out upon circumstances, and the gazing 
 after such men as had sat at table with tlie apostles, 
 (many of which Christ hath professed, yea, though 
 they bad cast out devils in his name, he will not know 
 at the last day,) by this means they lost their time, and 
 truanted in the fundamental grounds of saving know- 
 ledge, as was seen shortly by their writings. Lastly, 
 for Irenseus, we have cause to think him less judicious 
 in his reports from hand to hand of what tlie apostles 
 did, when we find him so negligent in keeping the 
 faith which they wrote, as to say in his tliird book 
 against heresies, that " the obedience of Mary was the 
 cause of salvation to herself and all mankind;" and 
 in his fifth book, that " as Eve was seduced to fly 
 God, so the virgin Mary was persuaded to obey God, 
 that tlie virgin Mary might be made the advocate of 
 the virgin Eve." Thus if Irenaeus, for his nearness to 
 the apostles, must be the patron of episcopacy to us, 
 it is no marvel though he be the patron of idolatry to 
 the papist, for the same cause. To the epistle of those 
 brethren of Smyrna, that write the martyrdom of Poly- 
 carpus, and style him an apostolical and prophetical 
 doctor, and bishop of the church of Smyrna, I could 
 be content to give some credit for the great honour and 
 aflfection which I see those brethren bear him ; and not 
 undeservedly, if it be true, which they there say, that 
 he was a prophet, and had a voice from heaven to com- 
 fort him at his death, which they could hear, but the 
 rest could not for the noise and tumult that was in the 
 place ; and besides, if bis body were sa precious to the 
 
26 
 
 OF PRELATICAL EPISCOPACY. 
 
 CImsliaiis, that lie was never wont to pull off his shoes 
 for one or other that still strove to have the office, 
 that they mig'ht come in to touch his feet ; yet a liffht 
 scruple or two I would gladly be resolved in : if 
 Polycarpus (who, as they say, was a prophet that 
 never failed in what he foretold) had declared to his 
 friends, that he knew, by vision, he siiould die no other 
 death than burning, how it came to pass that the fire, 
 when it came to proof, would not do his work, but 
 starting- off like a full sail from the mast, did but reflect 
 a golden light upon his nnviolated limbs, exhaling 
 such a sweet odour, as if all the incense of Arabia had 
 been buniing ; insomuch that when the billmen saw 
 that the fire was overawed, and could not do the deed, 
 one of them steps to him and stabs him with a sword, 
 at which wound such abundance of blood gushed forth 
 as quenched the fire. By all this relation it appears 
 not how the fire was guilty of his death, and then how 
 can his prophecy be fulfilled ? Next, how the standcrs- 
 by could be so soon weary of such a glorious sight, and 
 such a fragrant smell, as to hasten the executioner to 
 put out the fire with the martyr's blood ; unless perhaps 
 they thought, as in all perfumes, that the smoak would 
 be more odorous than the flame : yet these good bre- 
 thren say he was bishop of Smyrna. No man ques- 
 tions it, if bishop and presbyter were anciently all one, 
 and how does it appear by any thing in this testimony 
 that they were not ? If among his other high titles of 
 prophetical, apostolical, and most admired of those 
 times, he be also styled bishop of the church of Smyrna 
 in a kind of speech, which the rhetoricans call kut 
 tloxvv, for his excellence sake, as being the most fa- 
 mous of all the Smyrnian presbyters; it cannot be 
 proved neither from this nor that other place of Ire- 
 na-us, that he was therefore in distinct and monarchical 
 order above the other presbyters ; it is more probable, 
 that if the whole presbytery had been as renowned as 
 he, they would have termed every one of them severally 
 bishop of Smyrna. Hence it is, that we read some- 
 times of two bishops in one place ; and had all the 
 presbyters there been of like worth, we might perha])s 
 have read of twenty. 
 
 Tertullian accosts us next, (for Polycrates hath had 
 his answer,) whose testimony, state but the question 
 right, is of no more force to deduce episcopacy, than 
 the two former. He says that the church of Smj'rna 
 had Polycarpus placed there by John, and the church 
 of Rome, Clement ordained by Peter; and so the rest 
 of the churches did shew what bishops they had receiv- 
 ed by the appointment of the apostles. None of this 
 will be contradicted, for we have it out of the Scripture 
 that bishops or presbyters, which were the same, were 
 left by the apostles in every church, and they might 
 perhaps give some special charge to Clement, or Poly- 
 carpus, or Linus, and put some special trust in them for 
 the experience they had of their faith and constancy ; 
 it remains yet to be evinced out of this and the like 
 p1ace.s, which will never be, that the word bishop is 
 fttherwise taken, than in the language of St. Paul and 
 The Acts, for an order above presbyters. We grant 
 them bishops, we grant them worthy men, we grant 
 
 them placed in several churches by the apostles ; we 
 grant that Irenteus and Tertullian aflSrm this; but that 
 they were placed in a superior order above the presby- 
 tery, shew from all these words why we should grant. 
 It is not enough to say the apostle left this man bishoj) 
 in Rome, and that other in Ephesus, but to shew when 
 they altered their own decree set down by St. Paul, 
 and made all the presbyters underlings to one bishoj*. 
 But suppose Tertullian had made an imparity where 
 none was originally, should he move us, that goes about 
 to prove an imparity between God the Father, and 
 God the Son, as these words import in his book against 
 Praxcas? " The Father is the whole substance, but the 
 Son a derivation, and portion of the whole, as he him- 
 self professes, because the Father is gi-eater than me." 
 Believe him now for a faithful relater of tradition, 
 whom you see such an unfaithful expounder of the 
 Scripture : besides, in his time, all allowable tradition 
 was now lost. For this same author, whom you bring 
 to testify the ordination of Clement to the bishopric of 
 Rome by Peter, testifies also, in the beginning of his 
 treatise concerning chastity, that the bishop of Rome 
 did then use to send forth his edicts by the name of 
 Pontifex Maximus, and Episcopus Episcoporum, chief 
 priest, and bishop of bishops : for shame then do not 
 urge that authority to keep up a bishop, that will ne- 
 cessarily engage you to set up a pope. As little can 
 your advantage be from Hegesippus, an historian of 
 the same time, not extant, but cited by Eusebius : his 
 words are, that " in every city all things so stood in 
 his time as the law, and the prophets, and our I^ord did 
 preach." If they stood so, then stood not bishops 
 above presbyters ; for what our Lord and his disciples 
 taught, God be thanked, we have no need to go 
 leani of him : and v'ou may as well hope to persuade 
 us out of the same author, that James the brother of 
 our Lord was a Nazarite, and that to him only it was 
 lawful to enter into the holy of holies ; that his food 
 was not upon any thing that had life, fish or flesh ; 
 that he used no woollen garments, but only linen, and 
 so as he trifles on. 
 
 If therefore the tradition of the church were now 
 grown so ridiculous, and disconsenting from the doc- 
 trine of the apostles, even in those points which were 
 of least moment to men's particular ends, how well 
 may we be a.ssured it was much more degenerated in 
 point of episcopacy and precedency, things which 
 could afford such plausible pretences, such commo- 
 dious traverses for ambition and avarice to lurk behind! 
 
 As for those Britain bishops which you cite, take 
 heed what you do ; for our Britain bishops, less ancient 
 than these, were remarkable for nothing more than 
 their poverty, as Sulpitius Severus and Beda can re- 
 member you of examples good store. 
 
 Lastly, (for the fabulous Metaphrastes is not worth 
 an answer,) that authority of Clemens Alexandrinus iflj 
 not to be found in all his works ; and wherever it b^ 
 extant, it is in controversy, whether it be Clement's or 
 no ; or if it were, it says only that St. John in sonic 
 places constituted bishops: questionless he did, but 
 where does Clemens say he set them above presbyters'* 
 
OF PRELATICAL EPISCOPACY. 
 
 27 
 
 No man will g'ainsay the constitution of bishops : but 
 the raising them to a superior and distinct order above 
 presbyters, seeing tl)e gospel makes them one and the 
 I same thing, a thousand such allegations as these will 
 ! not give prelatical episcopacy one chapel of ease above 
 a parish church. And thus much for this cloud I can- 
 not say rather than petty fog of witnesses, with which 
 episcopal men would cast a mist before us, to deduce 
 their exalted episcopacy from apostolic times. Now, 
 although, as all men well know, it be the wonted shift 
 of errour, and fond opinion, when they find themselves 
 outlawed by the Bible, and forsaken of sound reason, 
 to betake them with all speed to tiieir old startinghole 
 of tradition, and that wild and overgrown covert of an- 
 tiquity, thinking to farm there at large room, and find 
 good stabling, yet thus much their own deified an- 
 tiquity betrays them to inform us, that tradition hath 
 had very seldom or never the gift of persuasion ; as 
 that which ciiurch-histories report of those east and 
 western paschalists, formerly spoken of, will declare. 
 Who would have thought that Polycarpus on the one 
 side could have erred in what he saw St. John do, or 
 Anicetus bishop of Rome on the other side, in what he 
 or some of his fi-ieuds might pretend to have seen St. 
 Peter or St. Paul do ; and yet neiU)er of these could 
 persuade either when to keep Easter? The like frivol- 
 ous contention troubled the primitive English churches, 
 while Colmanus and Wilfride on either side deducing 
 their opinions, the one from the undeniable example of 
 Saint John, and the learned bishop Anatolius, and 
 lastly the miraculous Columba, the other from Saint 
 Peter and the Nicene council ; could gain no ground 
 eacii of other, till King Oswy, perceiving no likelihood 
 of ending the controversy that way, was fain to decide 
 it himself, good king, with that small knowledge where- 
 with those times had furnished him. So when those 
 pious Greek emperors began, as Cedrenus relates, to 
 put down monks, and abolish images, the old idolaters, 
 finding themselves blasted, and driven back by the 
 prevailing light of the Scripture, sent out their sturdy 
 monks called the Abramites, to allege for images the 
 ancient fathers Dionysius, and this our objected Ire- 
 nspus: nay, they were so highflown in their antiquity, 
 that they undertook to bring the apostles, and Luke 
 the evangelist, yea Christ himself, from certain records 
 that were then current, to patronize their idolatry : yet 
 for all this the worthy emperor Theophilus, even in 
 those dark times, chose rather to nourish himself and 
 his people with the sincere milk of the gospel, than to 
 drink from the mixed confluence of so many corrupt 
 and poisonous waters, as tradition would have persuad- 
 ed him to, by most ancient seeming authorities. In 
 like manner all the reformed churches abroad, unthron- 
 ing episcopacy, doubtless were not ignorant of these 
 testimonies alleged to draw it in a line from the apos- 
 tles' days : for surely the author will not think he hath 
 brought us now any new authorities or considerations 
 into the world, which the reformers in other places 
 were not advised of: and yet we see, the intercession 
 of all these apostolic fathers could not prevail with 
 them to alter their resolved decree of reducing into 
 
 order their usurping and over-provendered episcopants ; 
 and God hath blessed their work this hundred years 
 with a prosperous and stedfast, and still happy success. 
 And this may serve to prove the insufficiency of these 
 present episcopal testimonies, not only in themselves 
 but in the account of those ever that have been the fol- 
 lowers of truth. It will next behove us to consider the 
 inconvenience we fall into, by using ourselves to be 
 guided by these kind of testimonies. He that thinks 
 it the part of a well-learned man to have read diligently 
 the ancient stories of the church, and to be no stranger 
 in the volumes of the fathers, shall have all judicious 
 men consenting with him ; not hereby to control, and 
 new fangle the Scripture, God forbid ! but to mark how 
 corruption and apostasy crept in by degrees, and to 
 gather up wherever we find the remaining sparks of 
 original truth, wherewith to stop the mouths of our ad- 
 versaries, and to bridle them with their own curb, who 
 willingly pass by that which is orthodoxal in them, 
 and studiously cull out that which is commentitious,and 
 best for their turns, not weighing the fathers in the bal- 
 ance of Scripture, but Scripture in the balance of the 
 fathers. If we, therefore, making first the gospel our 
 rule and oracle, shall take the good which we light on 
 in the fathers, and set it to oppose the evil which other 
 men seek from them, in this way of skirmish we shall 
 easily master all superstition and false doctrine ; but 
 if we turn this our discreet and wary usage of them 
 into a blind devotion towards them, and whatsoever we 
 find written by them ; we both forsake our own grounds 
 and reasons which led us at first to part from Rome, 
 that is, to hold the Scriptures against all antiquity ; we 
 remove our cause into our adversaries' own court, and 
 take up there those cast principles, which will soon 
 cause us to soder up with them again; inasmuch as 
 believing antiquity for itself in any one point, we bring 
 an engagement upon ourselves of assenting to all that 
 it charges upon us. For suppose we should now, neg- 
 lecting that which is clear in Scripture, that a bishop 
 and presbyter is all one both in name and office, and 
 that what was done by Timothy and Titus, executing 
 an extraordinary place, as fellow-labourers with the 
 apostles, and of a universal charge in planting Chris- 
 tianity through divers regions, cannot be drawn into 
 particular and daily example ; suppose that neglecting 
 this clearness of the text, we should, by the uncertain 
 and corrupted writings of succeeding times, determine 
 that bishop and presbyter are different, because we dare 
 not deny what Ignatius, or rather the Perkin Warbeck 
 of Ignatius, says; then must we be constrained to take 
 upon ourselves a thousand superstitions and falsities, 
 which the papists will prove us down in, from as good 
 authorities, and as ancient as these that set a bishop 
 above a presbyter. And the plain truth is, that when 
 any of our men, of those that are wedded to antiquitj-, 
 come to dispute with a papist, and leaving the Scrip- 
 tures put themselves without appeal to the sentence of 
 synods and councils, using in the cause of Sion the 
 hired soldiery of revolted Israel ; where they give the 
 Romanists one buff, they receive two counterbuffs. 
 Were it therefore but in this regard, every true bishop 
 
38 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book I. 
 
 should be afraid to conquer in his cause by such autho- 
 rities as tliese, which if we admit for the authority's 
 sake, we open a broad passag'e for a multitude of doc- 
 trines, that have no gfround in Scripture, to break in 
 upon us. 
 
 Lastly, I do not know, it being undeniable that there 
 are but two ecclesiastical orders, bishops and deacons, 
 mentioned in the gospel, bow it can be less than im- 
 piety to make a demur at that, which is there so per- 
 spicuous, confronting and paralleling the sacred verity 
 of St. Paul with the offals and sweepings of antiquity, 
 that met as accidentally and absurdly, as Epicurus's 
 atoms, to patch up a Leucippean Ignatius, inclining 
 rather to make this phantasm an expounder, or indeed 
 a depraver of St. Paul, than St. Paul an examiner, and 
 discoverer of this impostorship ; nor caring how slightly 
 they put off the verdict of holy text unsalved, that says 
 plainly there be but two orders, so they maintain the 
 reputation of their imaginary doctor that proclaims 
 three. Certainly if Christ's apostle have set down but 
 two, then according to his own words, though he him- 
 
 self should unsay it, and not only the angel of Smyrna, 
 but an angel from heaven, should bear us down that 
 there be three, Saint Paul has doomed him twice, " Let 
 him be accursed ;" for Ciirist hath pronounced that no 
 tittle of his word shall fall to the ground ; and if one 
 jot be alterable, it is as possible that all should perish : 
 and this shall be our righteousness, our ample warrant, 
 and strong assurance, both now and at the last day. 
 never to be ashamed of, against all the heaped names 
 of angels and martyrs, councils and fathers, urged upon 
 us, if we have given ourselves up to be taught by the 
 pure and living precept of God's word only ; which, 
 without more additions, nay with a forbidding of them, 
 hath within itself the promise of eternal life, the end 
 of all our wearisome labours, and all our sustaining 
 hopes. But if any shall strive to set up his ephod and 
 teraphim of antiquity against the brightness and per- 
 fection of the gospel ; let him fear lest he and his Baal 
 be turned into Bosheth. And thus much may suffice 
 to shew, that the pretended episcopacy cannot be de- 
 duced from the apostolical times. 
 
 REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 IN TWO BOOKS. 
 
 [FIRST POBLISBKO 1641.] 
 
 THE PREFACE. 
 
 In the publishing of human laws, which for the most part aim not beyond the good of civil society, to set them 
 barely forth to tlie people without reason or preface, like a physical prescript, or only with threatenings, as it 
 were a lordly command, in the judgment of Plato was thought to be done neither generously nor wisely. His 
 advice was, seeing that persuasion certainly is a more winning and more manlike way to keep men in obedience 
 than fear, that to such laws as were of principal moment, there should be used as an induction some well-tempered 
 discourse, shewing how good, how gainful, how happy it must needs be to live according to honesty and justice; 
 which being uttered with those native colours and graces of speech, as true eloquence, the daughter of virtue, 
 can best bestow upon her mother's praises, would so incite, and in a manner charm, the multitude into the love 
 of that which is really good, as to embrace it ever after, not of custom and awe, which most men do, but of 
 choice and pur|)ose, with true and constant delight. But this practice we may learn from a better and more 
 ancient authority than any heathen writer hath to give us ; and indeed being a point of so high wisdom and 
 worth, how could it be but we should find it in that book, within whose sacred context all wisdom is unfolded .'' 
 Moses, therefore, the only lawgiver that we can believe to have been visibly taught of God, knowing how vain 
 it was to write laws to men whose hearts were not first seasoned with the knowledge of God and of his works, 
 began from the book of Genesb, as a prologue to bb laws ; which Josephus right well hath noted: that the nation 
 
Book I. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 29 
 
 of the Jews, reading' therein the universal goodness of God to all creatures in tlie creation, and his peculiar 
 favour to them in his election of Abraham their ancestor from whom they could derive so many blessings upon 
 themselves, might be moved to obey sincerely, by knowing so good a reason of their obedience. If then, in the 
 administration of civil justice, and under the obscurity of ceremonial rites, such care was had by the wisest of 
 the heathen, and by Moses among the Jews, to instruct them at least in a general reason of that government to 
 which their subjection was required; how much more ought the members of the church, under the gospel, seek 
 to inform their understanding in the reason of that government, which the church claims to have over them ! 
 Especially for that church hath in her immediate cure those inner parts and affections of the mind, where the 
 seat of reason is having power to examine our spiritual knowledge, and to demand from us, in God's behalf, a 
 service entirely reasonable. But because about the manner and order of this goveninient, whether it ought to 
 be presbyterial or prelatical, such endless question, or rather uproar, is arisen in this land, as may be justly termed 
 what the fever is to the physicians, the eternal reproach of our divines, whilst other profound clerks of late, 
 greatly, as they conceive, to the advancement of prelaty, are so earnestly meting out the Lydian proconsular 
 Asia, to make good the prime metropolis of Ephcsus, as if some of our prelates in all haste meant to change their 
 soil, and become neighbours to the English bishop of Chalcedon ; and whilst good Breerwood as busily bestirs 
 himself in our vulgar tongue, to divide precisely the three patriarchates of Rome, Alexandria, and Antioch ; and 
 whether to any of these England doth belong : I shall in the mean while not cease to hope, through the mercy 
 and grace of Christ, the head and husband of his church, that England shortly is to belong, neitlier to see pa- 
 triarchal nor see prelatical, but to the faithful feeding and disciplining of that ministerial order, which the blessed 
 apostles constituted throughout the churches ; and this I shall assay to prove, can be no other than presbyters and 
 deacons. And if any man incline to think I undertake a task too difficult for my years, I trust through the su- 
 preme enlightening assistance far otherwise ; for my years, be they few or many, what imports it ? So they bring 
 reason, let that be looked on : and for the task, from hence that the question in hand is so needful to be known 
 at this time, chiefly by every meaner capacity, and contains in it the explication of many admirable and heavenly 
 privileges reached out to us by the gospel, I conclude the task must be easy : God having to this end ordained 
 his gospel to be the revelation of his power and wisdom in Christ Jesus. And this is one depth of his wisdom, 
 that he could so plainly reveal so great a measure of it to the gross distorted apprehension of decayed mankind. 
 Let others, therefore, dread and shun the Scriptures for their darkness; I shall wish I may deserve to be reckon- 
 ed among those who admire and dwell upon them for their clearness. And this seems to be the cause why in 
 those places of holy writ, « herein is treated of church-government, the reasons thereof are not formally and 
 professedly set down, because to him that heeds attentively the drift and scope of christian profession, 
 tliey easily imply themselves; which thing further to explain, having now prefaced enough, I shall no 
 longer defer. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 That church-government is prescribed in the gospel, and that to say otherwise is unsound. 
 
 The first and greatest reason of church-government we 
 may securely, with tlie assent of many on the adverse 
 part, affirm to be, because we find it so ordained and 
 set out to us by the appointment of God in the Scrip- 
 tures ; but whether this be presbyterial, or prelatical, it 
 cannot be brought to the scanning, until I have said 
 what is meet to some who do not think it for the ease 
 of their inconsequent opinions, to grant that church- 
 discipline is platformed in the Bible, but that it is left 
 to the discretion of men. To this conceit of theirs I 
 answer, that it is both unsound and untrue; for there 
 is not that thing in the world of more grave and ur- 
 gent importance throughout the whole life of man, than 
 is discipline. What need I instance .'' He that hath 
 read with judgment, of nations and commonwealths, 
 of cities and camps, of peace and war, sea and land, 
 will readily agree that the flourishing and decaying of 
 
 all civil societies, all the moments and turnings of hu- 
 man occasions, are moved to and fro as upon the axle 
 of discipline. So that whatsoever power or sway in 
 mortal things weaker men have attributed to for- 
 tune, I durst with more confidence (the honour of 
 Divine Providence ever saved) ascribe either to the 
 vigour or the slackness of discipline. Nor is there any 
 sociable perfection in this life, civil or sacred, that can 
 be above discipline ; but she is that which with her 
 musical cords preserves and holds all the parts thereof 
 together. Hence in those perfect armies of Cyrus in 
 Xenophon, and Scipio in the Roman stories, the excel- 
 lence of military skill was esteemed, not by the not 
 needing, but by the readiest submitting to the edicts 
 of their commander. And certainly discipline is not 
 only the removal of disorder; but if any visible shape 
 can be given to divine things, the very visible shape 
 
30 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book 1. 
 
 and imag'e of virtue, whereby she is not only seen in 
 the regular gestures and motions of her heavenly paces 
 as she walks, but also makes the harmony of her voice 
 audible to mortal ears. Yea, the angels themselves, in 
 whom no disorder is feared, as the apostle that saw them 
 in bis rapture describes, are distinguished and quuter- 
 nioned into the celestial princedoms and satrapies, ac- 
 cording as God himself has writ his imperial decrees 
 through the great provinces of heaven. The state also 
 of the blessed in paradise, though never so perfect, is 
 not therefore left without discipline, whose golden sur- 
 veying reed marks out and measures every quarter and 
 circuit of New Jerusalem. Yet is it not to be conceived, 
 that those eternal effluences of sanctity and love in the 
 glorified saints should by this means be confined and 
 cloyed with repetition of that which is prescribed, but 
 that our happiness may orb itself into a thousand va- 
 cancies of glory and delight, and with a kind of eccen- 
 trical equation be, as it were, an invariable planet of joy 
 and felicity ; how much less can we believe that God 
 would leave his frail and feeble, thouijh not less belov- 
 ed church here below, to the perpetual stumble of con- 
 jecture and disturbance in this our dark voyage, without 
 the card and compass of discipline ! Which is so hard 
 to be of man's making, that we ma}' see even in the 
 guidance of a civil state to worldly happiness, it is not 
 for every learned, or every wise man, though many of 
 them consult in common, to invent or frame a disci- 
 pline : but if it be at all the work of man, it must be of 
 such a one as is a true knower of himself, and in whom 
 contemplation and practice, wit, prudence, fortitude, 
 and eloquence, must be rarely met, both to comprehend 
 the hidden causes of things, and span in his thoughts 
 all the various effects, that passion or complexion can 
 work in man's nature ; and hereto must his hand be at 
 defiance with gain, and his heart in all virtues heroic; 
 so far is it from the ken of these wretched projectors of 
 ours, that bescrawl their pamphlets every day with new 
 forms of government for our church. And therefore all 
 the ancient lawgivers were either truly inspired, as 
 Moses, or were such men as with authority enough 
 might give it out to be so, as Minos, Lycurgus, Numa, 
 because they wisely forethought that men would never 
 quietly submit to such a discipline as had not more of 
 God's hand in it than man's. To come within the 
 narrowness of household government, observation will 
 shew us many deep counsellors of state and judges to 
 demean themselves incorruptly in the settled course of 
 affairs, and many worthy preachers upright in their 
 lives, powerful in their audience : but look uj)on either 
 of these men where they are left to their own disci- 
 plining at home, and you shall soon perceive, for all 
 their single knowledge and uprightness, how deficient 
 they are in the regulating of their own family; not 
 only in what may concern the virtuous and decent 
 composure of their minds in their several places, but 
 that which is of a lower and easier performance, the 
 right possessing of the outward vessel, their body, in 
 health or sickness, rest or labour, diet or abstinence, 
 whereby to render it more pliant to the soul, and useful 
 to the commonwealth : which if men were but as good 
 
 to discipline themselves, as sonic are to tutor their 
 horses and hawks, it could not be so gross in most 
 households. If then it appear so hard, and so little 
 known how to govern a house well, which is thought 
 of so easily discharge, and for every man's undertak- 
 ing; what skill of man, what wisdom, what parts can 
 be sufficient to give laws and ordinances to the elect 
 household of God ? If we could imagine that he had 
 left it at random without his provident and gracious 
 ordering, who is he so arrogant, so presumptuous, that 
 durst dispose and guide the living ark of the Holy 
 Ghost, though he should find it wandering in the field 
 of Bethshemesh, without the conscious warrant of some 
 high calling? But no profane insolence can parallel 
 that which our prelates dare avouch, to drive out- 
 rageously, and shatter the holy ark of the church, not 
 borne upon their shoulders with pains and labour in 
 the word, but drawn with rude oxen their officials, and 
 their own brute inventions. Let them make shows of 
 reforming while they will, so long as the church is 
 mounted upon the prelatical cart, and not as it ought, 
 between the hands of the ministers, it will but shake 
 and totter; and he that sets to his hand, though with 
 a good intent to hinder the shogging of it, in this un- 
 lawful waggonry wherein it rides, let him beware it be 
 not fatal to him as it was to Uzza. Certainly if God 
 be the father of his family the church, wherein could 
 he express that name more, than in training it up 
 under his own allwise and dear economy, not turning 
 it loose to the havoc of strangers and wolves, that 
 would ask no better plea than this, to do in the church 
 of Christ whatever humour, faction, policy, or licen- 
 tious will would prompt them to .'' Again, if Christ be 
 the Church's husband, expecting her to be presented 
 before him a pure unspotted virgin ; in what could he 
 shew his tender love to her more, than in prescribing 
 his own ways, which he best knew would be to the 
 improvement of her health and beauty, with much 
 greater care doubtless, than the Persian king could 
 appoint for his queen Esther those maiden dietingfs 
 and set prescriptions of baths and odours, which may 
 render her at last more amiable to his eye ? For of 
 any age or sex, most unfitly may a virgin be left to an 
 uncertain and arbitrary education. Yea, though she 
 be well instructed, yet is she still under a more strait 
 tuition, especially if betrothed. In like manner the 
 church bearing the same resemblance, it were not 
 reason to think she should be left destitute of that care, 
 which is as necessary and proper to her as instruction. 
 For public preaching indeed is the gift of the Spirit, 
 working as best seems to his secret will; but discipline 
 is the practic work of preaching directed and applied, 
 as is most requisite, to particular duty ; without which 
 it were all one to the benefit of souls, as it would be to 
 the cure of bodies, if all the physicians in London 
 should get into the several pulpits of the city, and 
 assembling all the diseased in every parish, should 
 begin a learned lecture of pleurisies, palsies, lethargies, 
 to which perhaps none there present were inclined ; 
 and so, without so much as feeling one pulse, or giving 
 the least order to any skilful apothecary, should dis- 
 
Book I. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATV. 
 
 31 
 
 miss them from time to time, some groaning-, some 
 liuiguishing, some expiring', with this only cliarge, to 
 look well to themselves, and do as they hear. Of 
 what excellence and necessity then church-discipline 
 is, how beyond the faculty of man to frame, and how 
 dangerous to be left to man's invention, who would 
 be every foot turning- it to sinister ends ; how pro- 
 perly also it is the work of God as father, and of 
 Christ as husband, of the church, we have by thus 
 much heard. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 That church-governmetit is set down in Holy Scripture, 
 and that to say otherwise is untrue. 
 
 As therefore it is unsound to say, that God hath not 
 appointed any set government in bis church, so it is 
 untrue. Of the time of the law there can be no doubt ; 
 for to let pass the first institution of priests and Levites, 
 which is too clear to be insisted upon, when the temple 
 came to be built, which in plain judgment could breed 
 no essential change, either in religion, or in tlie priestly 
 government; yet God, to shew how little he could en- 
 dure that men should be tampering and contriving in 
 his worship, though in things of less regard, gave to 
 David for Solomon, not only a pattern and model of the 
 temple, but a direction for the courses of the priests and 
 Levites, and for all the work of their service. At the 
 return from the captivity, things were only restored 
 after the ordinance of Moses and David ; or if the least 
 alteration be to be found, they had with them inspired 
 men, prophets ; and it were not sober to say they did 
 aught of moment without divine intimation. In the pro- 
 phecy of Ezekiel, from the 40th chapter onward, after 
 the destruction of the temple, God, by his prophet, 
 seeking to wean the hearts of the Jews from their old 
 law, to expect a new and more perfect reformation 
 under Christ, sets out before their eyes the stately 
 fabric and constitution of his church, with all the ec- 
 clesiastical functions appertaining : indeed the descrip- 
 tion is as sorted best to the apprehension of those times, 
 typical and shadowy, but in such manner as never yet 
 came to pass, nor ever must literally, unless we mean 
 to annihilate the gospel. But so exquisite and lively 
 the description is in pourtraying the new state of the 
 church, and especially in those points where govern- 
 ment seems to be most active, that both Jews and Gen- 
 tiles might have good cause to be assured, that God, 
 whenever he meant to reform his church, never intended 
 to leave the government thereof, delineated here in such 
 curious architecture, to be patched afterwards, and 
 varnished over with the devices and embellishings of 
 man's imagination. Did God take such delight in 
 measuring out the pillars, arches, and doors of a mate- 
 rial temple .'' Was he so punctual and circumspect in 
 lavers, altars, and sacrifices soon after to be abrogated, 
 lest any of these should have been made contrary to 
 
 his mind .-* Is not a far more perfect work, more agree- 
 able to bis perfections in the most perfect state of the 
 church militant, the new alliance of God to man ? 
 Should not he rather now by his own prescribed disci- 
 pline have cast his line and level upon the soul of man 
 which is his rational temple, and, by the divine 
 square and compass thereof, form and regenerate in us 
 the lovely shapes of virtues and graces, the sooner to 
 edify and accomplish that immortal stature of Christ's 
 body, which is his church, in all her glorious linea- 
 ments and proportions? And that this indeed God hath 
 done for us in the gospel we shall see with open eyes, 
 not under a veil. We may pass over the history of the 
 Acts and other places, turning only to those epistles of 
 St. Paul to Timothy and Titus; where the spiritual 
 eye may discern more goodly and gracefully erected, 
 than all the magnificence of temple or tabernacle, such 
 a heavenly structure of evangelical discipline, so diffu- 
 sive of knowledge and charity to the prosperous in- 
 crease and growth of the church, that it cannot be 
 wondered if that elegant and artful symmetry of the 
 promised new temple in Ezekiel, and all those sump- 
 tuous things under the law, were made to signify the 
 inward beauty and splendour of the christian church 
 thus governed. And whether this be commanded, let 
 it now be judged. St. Paul after his preface to the first 
 of Timothy, which he concludes in the 17th verse with 
 Amen, enters upon the subject of this epistle, which is 
 to establish the church-government, with a command : 
 " This charge I commit to thee, son Timothy : ac- 
 cording to the prophecies which went before on thee, 
 that thou by them mightest war a good warfare." 
 Which is plain enough thus expounded : This charge 
 I commit to thee, wherein I now go about to instruct 
 thee how thou shalt set up church-discipline, that thou 
 mightest war a good warfare, bearing thyself con- 
 stantly and faithfully in the ministry, which, in the 
 first to the Corinthians, is also called a warfare ; and 
 so after a kind of parenthesis concerning Hymenasus, 
 he returns to his command, though under the mild 
 word of exhorting, chap. ii. ver. 1, "I exhort there- 
 fore ;" as if he had interrupted his former command by 
 the occasional mention of Hymenoeus. More beneath 
 in the 14th verse of the third chapter, when he had de- 
 livered the duties of bishops or presbyters, and deacons, 
 not once naming any other order in the church, he thus 
 adds ; " These things write I unto thee, hoping to 
 come unto thee shortly; (such necessity it seems there 
 was ;) but if I tarry long, that thou mayest know how 
 thou oughtest to behave thyself in the house of God." 
 From this place it may be justly asked, whether Timothy 
 by this here written, might know what was to be known 
 concerning the orders of church governors or no .'* If he 
 might, then, in such a clear text as this, may we know 
 too without further jangle ; if he might not, then did St. 
 Paul write insufficiently, and moreover said not true, for 
 he saith here he might know ; and I persuade myself he 
 did know ere this was written, but that the apostle had 
 more regard to the instruction of us, than to the inform- 
 ing of him. In the fifth chapter,after some other church- 
 precepts concerning discipline, mark what a dreadful 
 
32 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book I. 
 
 command follows, ver. 21 : "I charge thee before God 
 and tlie Lord Jesus Christ, and the elect augels, that 
 thou observe these thiuars." And as if all were not 
 yet sure enough, he closes up the epistle with an adjur- 
 ing charge thus ; '' I give thee charge in the sight of 
 God, who quickenetb all things, and before Christ Je- 
 sus, tliat thou keep this commandment:" that is, the 
 whole commandment concerning discipline, being the 
 main purpose of the epistle : although Hooker would 
 fain have this denouncement referred to the particular 
 precept going before, because the word commandment 
 is in the singular number, not remembering that even 
 in the first chapter of this epistle, the word command- 
 ment is used in a plural sense, ver. 5 : *' Now the 
 end of the commandment is charity ;" and what more 
 frequent than in like manner to say the law of Moses? 
 So that either to restrain the significance too much, or 
 too much to enlarge it, would make the adjuration 
 either not so weighty or not so pertinent. And thus 
 we find here that the rules of church-discipline are not 
 only commanded, but hedged about with such a ter- 
 rible impalement of commands, as be that will break 
 through wilfully to violate the least of them, must 
 hazard the wounding of his conscience even unto death. 
 Yet all this notwithstanding, we shall find them broken 
 well nigh all by the fair pretenders even of the next 
 ages. No less to the contempt of him whom they 
 feign to be the arch founder of prelaty, St. Peter, who, 
 by what he writes in the fifth chapter of his first epis- 
 tle, should seem to be far another man than tradition 
 reports him : there he commits to the presbytei-s only 
 full authority, both of feeding the flock and episcopat- 
 ing ; and commands that obedience be given to them 
 as to the mighty hand of God, which is his mighty 
 ordinance. Yet all this was as nothing to repel the 
 venturous boldness of innovation that ensued, changing 
 the decrees of God that are immutable, as if they had 
 been breathed by man. Nevertheless when Christ, by 
 those visions of St. John, foreshews the reformation of 
 his church, he bids him take his reed, and mete it out 
 again after the first pattern, for he prescribes no other. 
 " Arise, said the angel, and measure the temple of God, 
 and the altar, and them that worship therein." What 
 is there in the world can measure men but discipline ? 
 Our word ruling imports no less. Doctrine indeed is 
 the measure, or at least the reason of the measure, it is 
 true; but unless tiie measure be applied to that which 
 it is to measure, how can it actually do its proper 
 work.-* Whether therefore discipline be all one with 
 doctrine, or the particular application thereof to this or 
 that person, we all agree that doctrine must be such 
 only as is commanded ; or whether it be something 
 really differing from doctrine, yet was it only of God's 
 appointment, as being the most adequate measure of 
 the church and her children, which is here the oflice of 
 a great evangelist, and the reed given him from hea- 
 ven. But that part of the temple which is not thus 
 measured, so far is it from being in God's tuition or de- 
 light, that in the following verse he rejects it; how- 
 ever in shew and visibility it may seem a part of his 
 chnrcb, yet inasmuch as it lies thus unmeasured, he 
 
 leaves it to be trampled by the Gentiles ; that is to be 
 polluted with idolatrous and gentilish rites and cere- 
 monies. And that the principal reformaticm here fore» 
 told is already come to pass, as well in discipline as iA 
 doctrine, the state of our neighbour churches afford ut 
 to behold. Thus, through all the periods and changes 
 of the church, it hatli been proved, that God hath still 
 reserved to himself the right of enacting church-go- 
 vernment. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 That it is dangerous and unworthy the gospel, to hold 
 that church-government is to he patterned by the 
 law, as bishop Andrews and the primate of Armagh 
 maintain. 
 
 We may retuni now from this interposing difficulty 
 thus removed, to affirm, that since church-government 
 is so strictly commanded in God's word, the first and 
 greatest reason why we should submit thereto is, be- 
 cause God hath so commanded. But whether of these 
 two, prelaty or presbjtery, can prove itself to be sup- 
 ported by this first and greatest reason, must be the 
 next dispute : wherein this position is to be first laid 
 down, as granted ; that I may not follow a chase rather 
 than an argument, that one of these two, and none 
 other, is of God's ordaining ; and if it be, that ordi- 
 nance must be evident in the gospel. For the imper- 
 fect and obscure institution of the law, which the 
 apostles themselves doubt not ofttimes to vilify, cannot 
 give rules to the complete and glorious ministration of 
 the gospel, which looks on the law as on a child, not 
 as on a tutor. And that the prelates have no sure 
 foundation in the gospel, their own guiltiness doth ma- 
 nifest ; they would not else run questing up as high as 
 Adam to fetch their original, as it is said one of them 
 lately did in public. To which assertion, had I heard 
 it, because I see they are so insatiable of antiquity, I 
 should have gladly assented, and confessed them yet 
 more ancient : for Lucifer, before Adam, was the first 
 prelate angel ; and both be, as is commonly thought, 
 and our forefather Adam, as we all know, for aspir- 
 ing above their orders, were miserably degraded. 
 But others, better advised, are content to receive 
 their beginning from Aaron and his sons, among 
 whom bishop Andrews of late years, and in tliese 
 times the primate of Armagh, for tiieir learning are 
 reputed the best able to say what may be said in this 
 opinion. The primate, in his discourse about the ori- 
 ginal of episcopacy newly revised, begins thus : " The 
 ground of episcopacy is fetched partly from the pattern 
 prescribed by God in the Old Testament, and partly 
 from the imitation thereof brought in by the apostles.'' 
 Herein I must entreat to be excused of the desire I 
 have to be satisfied, how for example the ground of 
 episcopacy is fetched partly from the example of the 
 Old Testament, by whom next, and by whose autho- 
 
Book I. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 33 
 
 rity. Secondly, bow the church-government under the 
 gospel can be rightly called an imitation of that in the 
 Old Testament ; for that the gospel is the end and ful- 
 filling of the law, our liberty also from the bondage of 
 the law, I plainly read. How then the ripe age of the 
 gospel should be put to school again, and learn to go- 
 yern herself from the infancy of the law, the stronger 
 to imitate the weaker, the freeman to follow the cap- 
 live, the learned to be lessoned by the rude, will be a 
 bard undertaking to evince from any of those prin- 
 ciples, which either art or inspiration hath written. If 
 any thing done by the apostles may be drawn howso- 
 ever to a likeness of something mosaical, if it cannot 
 be proved that it was done of purpose in imitation, as 
 having the right thereof grounded in nature, and not 
 in ceremony or type, it will little avail the matter. The 
 whole judaic law is either political, (and to take pat- 
 tern by that, no christian nation ever thought itself 
 obliged in conscience,) or moral, which contains in it 
 the observation of whatsoever is substantially and per- 
 petually true and good, either in religion or course of 
 life. That which is thus moral, besides what we fetch 
 from those unwritten laws and ideas which nature hath 
 engraven in us, the gospel, as stands with her dignity 
 most, lectures to her from her own authentic handwrit- 
 ing and command, not copies out from the borrowed 
 manuscript of a subservient scroll, by way of imitating : 
 as well might she be said in her sacrament of water, to 
 imitate the baptism of John. What though she retain 
 excommunication used in the synagogue, retain the 
 morality of the sabbath .'* She does not therefore imi- 
 tate the law her underling, but perfect her. All that 
 was morally delivered from the law to the gospel, in 
 the office of the priests and Levites, was, that there 
 should be a ministry set apart to teach and discipline 
 the church ; both which duties the apostles thought good 
 to commit to the presbyters. And if any distinction of 
 honour were to be made among them, they directed it 
 should be to those not that only rule well, but espe- 
 cially to those that labour in the word and doctrine. 
 By which we are told that laborious teaching is the 
 most honourable prelaty that one minister can have 
 above another in the gospel ; if therefore the supe- 
 riority of bishopship be grounded on the priesthood as 
 a part of the moral law, it cannot be said to be an imi- 
 tation ; for it were ridiculous that morality should imi- 
 tate morality, which ever was the same thing. This 
 very word of patterning or imitating, excludes episco- 
 pacy from the solid and grave ethical law, and betrays 
 it to be a mere child of ceremony, or likelier some mis- 
 begotten thing, that having plucked the gay feathers 
 of her obsolete bravery, to hide her own deformed bar- 
 renness, now vaunts and glories in her stolen plumes. 
 In the mean while, what danger there is against the 
 very life of the gospel, to make in any thing the typical 
 law her pattern, and how impossible in that which 
 touches the priestly government, I shall use such light 
 as I have received, to lay open. It cannot be unknown 
 by what expressions the holy apostle St. Paul spares 
 not to explain to us the nature and condition of the law, 
 ( ailing those ordinances, which were the chief and 
 
 essential offices of the priests, the elements and rudi- 
 ments of the w(|irld, both weak and beggarly. Now to 
 breed, and bring up the children of the promise, the heirs 
 of liberty and grace, under such a kind of government 
 as is professed to be but an imitation of that ministry, 
 which engendered to bondage the sons of Agar ; how 
 can this be but a foul injury and derogation, if not a 
 cancelling of that birthright and immunity, which 
 Christ hath purchased for us with his blood ? For the 
 ministration of the law, consisting of carnal things, 
 drew to it such a ministry as consisted of carnal re- 
 spects, dignity, precedence, and the like. And such a 
 ministry established in the gospel, as is founded upon 
 the points and terms of superiority, and nests itself in 
 Worldly honours, will draw to it, and we see it doth, 
 such a religion as runs back again to the old ])omp and 
 glory of the flesh : for doubtless there is a certain at- 
 traction and magnetic force betwixt the religion and 
 the ministerial form thereof. If the religion be pure, 
 spiritual, simple, and lowly, as the gospel most tiuly 
 is, such must the face of the ministry be. And in like 
 manner, if the form of the ministry be grounded in the 
 worldly degrees of authority, honour, temporal juris- 
 diction, we see with our eyes it will turn the inward 
 power and purity of the gospel into the outward car- 
 nality of the law; evaporating and exhaling the inter- 
 nal worship into empty conformities, and gay shews. 
 And what remains then, but that we should run into 
 as dangerous and deadly apostasy as our lamentable 
 neighbours the papists, who, by this very snare and 
 pitfall of imitating the ceremonial law, fell into that 
 irrecoverable superstition, as must needs make void the 
 covenant oi salvation to them that persist in this blind- 
 
 aron 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 That it it impostible to make the priesthood of A 
 a pattern whereon to ground episcopacy. 
 
 That which was promised next is, to declare the im- 
 possibility of grounding evangelic government in the 
 imitation of the Jewish priesthood ; which will be done 
 by considering both the quality of the persons, and the 
 office itself. Aaron and his sons were the princes of 
 their tribe, before they were sanctified to the priesthood : 
 that personal eminence, which they held above the 
 other Levites, they received not only from their office, 
 but partly brought it into their office ; and so from that 
 time forward the priests were not chosen out of the 
 whole number of the Levites, as our bishops, but were 
 bom inheritors of the dignity. Therefore, unless we 
 shall choose our prelates only out of the nobility, and 
 let them run in a blood, there can be no possible imita- 
 tion of lording over their brethren in regard of their 
 persons altogether unlike. As for the office, which was 
 a representation of Christ's own person more imme- 
 diately in the high-priest, and of his whole priestly 
 
34 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book I. 
 
 office in all the other, to the performance of which the 
 Levites were but servitors and deaco||s, it was neces- 
 sary there should be a distinction of dig-nitj between 
 two functions of so great odds. But tljere being no 
 such difference among' our ministers, unless it be in 
 reference to the deacons, it is impossible to found a 
 prelaty upon the imitation of this priesthood : for 
 wherein, or in what work, is the office of a prelate 
 excellent above that of a pastor? In ordination, you 
 will say ; but flatly against Scripture : for there we 
 know Timothy received ordination by the hands of the 
 presbytery, notwithstanding all the vain delusions that 
 are used to evade that testimony, and maintain an un- 
 warrantable usurpation. But wherefore should ordi- 
 nation be a cause of setting up a superior degree in 
 the church .'* Is not that whereby Christ became our 
 Saviour a higher and greater work, than that whereby 
 he did ordain messengers to preach and publish him 
 our Saviour ? Every minister sustains the person of 
 Christ in his highest work of communicating to us the 
 mysteries of our salvation, and hath the power of 
 binding and absolving ; how should he need a higher 
 dignity, to represent or execute that which is an in- 
 feriour work in Christ .'* Why should the performance 
 of ordination, which is a lower office, exalt a prelate, 
 and not the seldom discharge of a higher and more 
 noble office, which is preaching and administering, 
 much rather depress him .** Verily, neither the nature 
 nor the example of ordination doth any way require 
 an imparity between the ordainer and the ordained ; 
 for what more natural than every like to produce his 
 like, man to beget man, fire to propagate fire .-' And 
 in examples of highest opinion the ordainer is inferiour 
 to the ordained ; for the pope is not made by the pre- 
 cedent pope, but by cardinals, who ordain and conse- 
 crate to a higher and greater office than their own. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 To the arguments of bishop Andrews and the Primate. 
 
 It follows here to attend to certain objections in a 
 little treatise lately printed among others of like sort 
 at Oxford, and in the title said to be out of the rude 
 draughts of bishop Andrews : and surely they be rude 
 draughts indeed, insomuch that it is marvel to think 
 what his friends meant, to let come abroad such shal- 
 low rea-sonings with the name of a man so much 
 bruited for learning. In the twelfth and twenty-third 
 pages he seems most notoriously inconstant to liimself; 
 for in the former place he tells us he forbears to take 
 any argument of prelaty from Aaron, as being the type 
 of Christ. In the latter he can forbear no longer, but 
 repents him of his rash gratuity, affirming, that to say, 
 Christ being come in the flesh, his figure in the high 
 priest ceaseth, is the shift of an anabaptist ; and stiffly 
 argues, that Christ being as well king as priest, was 
 as well fore-rescnibled by tlie kiogs then, as by the 
 
 high priest : so that if his coming take away the one 
 t^'pe, it must also the other. Marvellous piece of 
 divinity ! and well worth that the land should ])ay six 
 thousand pounds a year for in a bishopric ; although 
 I read of no sophistcr among the Greeks that was so 
 dear, neither Hippias nor Protagoras, nor any whom 
 the Socratic school famously refuted without hire. 
 Here we have the type of the king sewed to the ti])pet 
 of the bishop, subtlely to cast a jealousy upon the 
 crown, as if the right of kings, like Meleager in the 
 Metamorphosis, were no longer-lived than the fire- 
 brand of prelaty. But more likely the prelates fearing 
 (for their own guilty carriage protests they do fear) 
 that their fair days cannot long hold, practise by pos- 
 sessing the king with this most false doctrine, to en-lt 
 gage his power for them, as in his own quarrel, that 
 when they fall they may fall in a general ruin ; just as 
 cruel Tiberius would wish : 
 
 " When I die let the earth be rolled in flames." 
 
 But where, O bishop, doth the purpose of the law 
 set forth Christ to us as a king.'* That which never 
 was intended in tl>e law can never be abolished as part 
 thereof. When the law was made, there was no king: 
 if before the law, or under the law, God by a special 
 type in any king would foresignify the future kingdom 
 of Christ, which is not yet visibly Qijme ; what was 
 that to the law ? The whole cercmonial'law (and types 
 can be in no law else) comprehends nothing but the 
 propitiatory office of Christ's priesthood, which being 
 in substance accomplished, both law and plesthood 
 fades away of itself, and passes into air like a transitory 
 vision, and the right of kings neither stands by any 
 type nor falls. We acknowledge tliat the civil ma- 
 gistrate wears an authority of God's giving, and ought 
 to be obeyed as his vicegerent. But to make a king a 
 type, we say is an abusive and unskilful speech, and 
 of a moral solidity makes it seem a ceremonial shadow : 
 therefore your typical chain of king and priest must 
 unlink. But is not the type of priest taken away by 
 Christ's coming? No, saith this famous protestant 
 bishop of Winchester, it is not ; and he that saith it is, 
 is an anabaptist. What think ye, readers, do ye not 
 understand him? What can be gathered hence, but 
 that the ])relate would still sacrifice ? Conceive him, 
 readers, he would missificate. Their altars, indeed, 
 were in a fair forwardness ; and by such arguments as 
 these they were setting up the molten calf of their mass 
 again, and of their great hierarch the pope. For if the 
 type of priest be not taken away, then neither of the 
 high priest, it were a strange beheading; and high 
 priest more than one there cannot be, and that one can 
 be no less than a pope. And this doubtless was the 
 bent of his career, though never so covertly. Yea, but 
 there was something else in the high priest, besides the 
 figure, as is plain by St. Paul's acknowledging him. 
 It is true, that in the 17th of Deut. whence this au- 
 thority arises to the priest in matters too hard for the 
 secular judges, as must needs be many in the occasions 
 of those times, involved with ceremonial niceties, now; 
 wonder though it be commanded to inquire at the 
 
Book I. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 35 
 
 mouth of the priests, who besides the magistrates their 
 collcag-ucs, liad the oracle of urim to consult with. 
 And whether the hig-h priest Ananias had not en- 
 croached beyond the limits of his priestly authority, or 
 whether he used it rightly, was no time then for St. 
 Paul to contest about. But if this instance be able to 
 assert any right of jurisdiction to the clergy, it must 
 impart it in common to all ministers, since it were a 
 great folly to seek for counsel in a hard intricate scru- 
 ple from a dunce prelate, when there might be found 
 a speedier solution from a grave and learned minister, 
 whom God hath gifted with the judgment of urim, 
 more amply ofttimes than all the prelates together; 
 and now in the gospel hath granted the privilege of 
 this oraculous ephod alike to all his ministers. The 
 reason therefore of imparity in the priests, being now, 
 as is aforesaid, really annulled both in their person 
 and in their representative office, what right of juris- 
 diction soever can be from this place levitically be- 
 queathed, must descend upon the ministers of the gospel 
 equally, as it finds them in all other points equal. Well, 
 then, he is finally content to let Aaron go ; Eleazar 
 will serve his turn, as being a superior of superiors, and 
 yet no type of Christ in Aaron's lifetime. thou that 
 wouldest wind into any figment, or phantasm, to save 
 thy mite ! yet all this will not fadge, though it be cun- 
 ningly Interpol' jhed by some s'^cond hand with crooks 
 and emendations : hear then, the type of Christ in 
 some one particular, as of entering yearly into the holy 
 of holies, and such like, rested upon the high priest 
 only as laore immediately personating our Saviour: but 
 to resemble his whole satisfactory office, all the line- 
 age of Aaron was no more than sufficient. And all or 
 any of the priests, considered separately without rela- 
 tion to the highest, are but as a lifeless trunk, and sig- 
 nify nothing. And this shews the excellence of 
 Christ's sacrifice, who at once and in one person ful- 
 filled that which many hundreds of priests many times 
 repeating had enough to foreshcw. What other im- 
 parity there was among themselves, we may safely 
 suppose it depended on the dignity of their birth and 
 family, togctlicr with the circumstances of a carnal 
 service, which might aflTord many priorities. And this 
 I take to be the sum of what the bishop hath laid to- 
 gether to make plea for prelaty by imitation of the law : 
 though indeed, if it may stand, it will infer popedom 
 all as well. Many other courses he tries, enforcing 
 himself with much ostentation of endless genealogies, 
 as if he were the man that St. Paul forewarns us of in 
 Timothy, but so unvigorously, that I do not fear his 
 winning of many to his cause, but such as doting upon 
 great names are either over-weak, or over-sudden of 
 faith. I shall not refuse, therefore, to learn so much 
 prudence as I find in the Roman soldier that attended 
 the cross, not to stand breaking of legs, when the 
 breath is quite out of the body, but pass to that which 
 follows. The primate of Armagh at the beginning of 
 his tractate seeks to avail himself of that place in 
 the sixty -sixth of Isaiah, " I will take of them for 
 priests and Levites, saith the Lord," to uphold hereby 
 such a form of superiority among the ministers of the 
 
 gospel, succeeding those in the law, as the Lord's-day 
 did tlie sabbath. But certain if this method may be 
 admitted of interpreting those prophetical passages 
 concerning christian times and a punctual correspond- 
 ence, it may with equal probability be urged upon us, 
 that we are bound to observe some monthly solemnity 
 answerable to the new moons, as well as the Lord's- 
 day which we keep in lieu of the sabbath : for in the 
 23rd verse the prophet joins them in the same manner 
 together, as before he did the priests and Levites, thus: 
 " And it shall come to pass that from one new moon to 
 another, and from one sabbath to another, shall all 
 flesh come to worship before me, saith the Lord." Un- 
 doubtedly, with as good consequence may it be alleged 
 from hence, that we are to solemnize some religious 
 monthly meeting diflTerent from the sabbath, as from 
 the other any distinct formality of ecclesiastical orders 
 may be inferred. This rather will appear to be the 
 lawful and unconstrained sense of the text, that God, 
 in taking of them for priests and Levites, will not es- 
 teem them unworthy, though Gentiles, to undergo any 
 function in the church, but will make of them a full 
 and perfect ministry, as was that of the priests and Le- 
 vites in their kind. And bishop Andrews himself, to 
 end the controversy, sends us a candid exposition of 
 this quoted verse from the 24th page of his said book, 
 plainly deciding that God, by those legsil names there 
 of priests and Levites, means our presbyters and dea- 
 cons; for which either ingenuous confession, or slip of 
 his pen, we give him thanks, and withal to him that 
 brought these treatises into one volume, who, setting 
 the contradictions of two learned men so near together, 
 did not foresee. What other deducements or analogies 
 are cited out of St. Paul, to prove a likeness between 
 the ministers of the Old and New Testament, having 
 tried their sinews, I judge they may pass without harm- 
 doing to our cause. We may remember, then, that 
 prelaty neither hath nor can have foundation iii the 
 law, nor yet in the gospel; which assertion, as being 
 for the plainness thereof a matter of eyesight rather 
 than of disquisition, I voluntarily omit; not forgetting, 
 to specify this note again, that the earnest desire which 
 the prelates have to build their hierarchy upon the 
 sandy bottom of the law, gives us to see abundantly 
 the little assurance, which they find to rear up their 
 high roofs by the authority of the gospel, repulsed as 
 it were from the writings of the apostles, and driven to 
 take sanctuary among the Jews. Hence that open 
 confession of the primate before mentioned f " Episco- 
 pacy is fetched partly from the pattern of the Old Tes- 
 tament, and partly from the New as an imitation of the 
 Old ;" though nothing can be more rotten in divinity 
 than such a position as this, and is all one as to say, 
 episcopacy is partly of divine institution, and partly of 
 man's own carving. For who gave the authority to 
 fetch more from the pattern of the law, than what the 
 apostles had already fetched, if they fetched any thing 
 at all, as hath been proved they did not ? So was Jero- 
 boam's episcopacy partly from the pattern of the law, 
 and partly from the pattern of his own carnality ; a 
 party-coloured and a party-membered episcopacy : and 
 
36 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH GOVERNMEM 
 
 Ijook 1. 
 
 what can this be else than a monstrous ? Otliers there- 
 fore among tlic prelates, perhaps not so well able to 
 brook, or rather to justify, this foul relapsing to the old 
 law, have condescended at last to a i)laiu confessing, 
 that both the names and offices of bishops and presby- 
 ters at first were the same, and in the Scriptures nowhere 
 distinguished. This grants the remonstrant in the fifth 
 section of his defence, and in the preface to his last 
 short answer. But what need respect be had whether 
 he grant or grant it not, when as through all antiquity, 
 and even in the loftiest times of prelaty, we find it grant- 
 ed ? Jerome, the leamedest of the fathers, hides not his 
 opinion, that custom only, which the proverb calls a 
 tyrant, was the maker of prelaty ; before his audacious 
 workmanship the churches were ruled in common by 
 the presbyters : and such a certain truth this was es- 
 teemed, that it became a decree among the papal canons 
 compiled by Gratian. Anselm also of Canterbury, who, 
 to uphold the points of his prelatism, made himself a 
 traitor to his country, yet, commenting the epistles to 
 Titus and the Pbilippians, acknowledges, from the 
 clearness of the text, what Jerome and the church ru- 
 bric hath before acknowledged. He little dreamed then 
 that the weeding-hook of reformation would after two 
 ages pluck up his glorious poppy from insulting over 
 the good corn. Though since some of our British pre- 
 lates, seeing themselves pressed to produce Scrip- 
 ture, try all their cunning, if the New Testament 
 will not help them, to frame of their own heads, as it 
 were with wax, a kind of mimic bishop limned out to 
 the life of a dead priesthood : or else they would strain 
 us out a certain figurative prelate, by wringing the 
 collective allegory of those seven angels into seven 
 single rochets. Howsoever, since it thus appears that 
 custom was the creator of prelaty, being less "ancient 
 than the government of presbyters, it is an extreme 
 folly to give them the hearing that tell us of bishops 
 through so many ages : and if against their tedious 
 muster of citations, sees, and successions, it be replied 
 that wagers and church-antiquities, such as are repug- 
 nant to the plain dictate of Scripture, are both alike 
 the arguments of fools, they have their answer. We 
 rather are to cite all those ages to an arraignment be- 
 fore the word of God, wherefore, and what pretending, 
 how presuming they durst alter that divine institution 
 of presbyters, which the apostles, who were no various 
 and inconstant men, surely had set up in the churches ; 
 and why they choose to live by custom and catalogue, 
 or, as St. Paul saith, by sight and visibility, rather than 
 by faith ? But, first, I conclude, from their own mouths, 
 that God's command in Scripture, which doubtless 
 ought to be the first and greatest reason of church-go- 
 vernment, is wanting to prelaty. And certainly we 
 have plenteous warrant in the doctrine of Christ, to 
 determine that the want of this reason is of itself suffi- 
 cient to confute all other pretences, that may be brought 
 in favour of it. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 That prelaty was not set up for prevention of schism^ 
 as is pretended ; or if it were, that it performs not 
 what it was first set up for, but quite the contrary. 
 
 Yet because it hath tlie outside of a specious reason, 
 and specious things we know are aptest to work with 
 human lightness and frailty, even against the solidcst 
 truth that sounds not plausibly, let us think it worth 
 the examining for the love of infirmer Christians, of 
 what importance this their second reason may be. Tra- 
 dition they say hath taught them, that, for the preven- 
 tion of growing schism, the bishop was heaved above 
 the presbyter. And must tradition then ever thus to 
 the world's end be the perpetual cankerworm to eat out 
 God's commandments ? Are his decrees so inconsiderate 
 and so fickle, that when the statutes of Solon or Lycur- 
 gus shall prove durably good to many ages, his, in 
 forty years, shall be found defective, ill-contrived, and 
 for needful causes to be altered ? Our Saviour and his 
 apostles did not only foresee, but foretell and forewarn 
 us to look for schism. Is it a thing to be imagined of 
 God's wisdom, or at least of apostolic prudence, to set up 
 such a government in the tenderness of the church, as 
 should incline, or not be more able than any others to 
 oppose itself to schism? It was well known what a 
 bold lurker schism was, even in the household of 
 Christ, between his own disciples and those of John 
 the Baptist about fasting; and early in the Acts of the 
 Apostles the noise of schism had almost drowned the 
 proclaiming of the gospel ; yet we read not in Scrip- 
 ture, that any thought was had of making prelates, no 
 not in those places where dissension was most rife. If 
 prelaty had been then esteemed a remedy against 
 schism, where was it more needful than in that great 
 variance among the Corinthians, which St. Paul so 
 laboured to reconcile ? and whose eye could have found 
 the fittest remedy sooner than his ? And what could 
 have made the remedy more available, than to have 
 used it speedily.'' And lastly, what could have been 
 more necessary, than to have written it for our instruc- 
 tion .-* Yet we sec he neither commended it to us, nor 
 used it himself For the same division remaining there, 
 or else bursting forth again more than twenty yeare 
 after St. Paul's death, we find in Clement's epistle, of 
 venerable authority, written to the yet factious Corin- 
 thians, that they were still governed by presbyters. 
 And the same of other churches out of Hermas, and 
 divere other the scholars of the apostles, by the late 
 industry of the learned Salmasius appears. Neither 
 yet did this worthy Clement, St. Paul's disciple, tliough 
 writing to them to lay aside schism, in the least word 
 advise them to change the presbyterian government 
 into prelaty. And therefore if God afterward gave or 
 permitted this insurrection of episcopacy, it is to be 
 feared he did it in his wrath, as he gave the Israelites 
 a king. With so good a will doth he use to alter his 
 own chosen government once established. For mark 
 whether this rare device of man's brain, thus preferred 
 
Book I. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 37 
 
 before the ordinance of God, had better success than 
 fleshly wisdom, not counselling with God, is wont to 
 have. So far was it from removing- schism, that if 
 schism parted the congreg-ations before, now it rent and 
 mangled, now it raged. Heresy begat heresy with a 
 certain monstrous haste of pregnancy in her birth, at 
 once born and bringing forth. Contentions, before 
 brotherly, were now hostile. Men went to choose their 
 bishop as they went to a pitched field, and the day of 
 his election was like the sacking of a city, sometimes 
 ended with the blood of thousands. Nor this among 
 heretics only, but men of the same belief, yea confess- 
 ors; and that with such odious ambition, that Euse- 
 bius, in his eighth book, testifies he abhorred to write. 
 And the reason is not obscure, for the poor dignity, or 
 rather burden, of a parochial presbyter could not en- 
 gage any great party, nor that to any deadly feud : 
 but prelaty was a power of that extent and sway, that 
 if her election were popular, it was seldom not the 
 cause of some faction or broil in the church. But 
 if her dignity came by favour of some prince, she 
 was from that time his creature, and obnoxious to com- 
 ply with his ends in state, were they right or wrong. 
 So that, instead of finding prelaty an impeacher of 
 schism or faction, the more I search, the more I grow 
 into all persuasion to think rather that faction and she, 
 as with a spousal ring, are wedded together, never to 
 be divorced. But here let every one behold the just 
 and dreadful judgment of God meeting with the auda- 
 cious pride of man, that durst offer to mend the ordi- 
 nances of heaven. God, out of the strife of men, brought 
 forth by his apostles to the church that beneficent and 
 ever-distributing office of deacons, the stewards and 
 ministers of holy alms : man, out of the pretended care 
 of peace and unity, being caught in the snare of his 
 impious boldness to correct the will of Christ, brought 
 forth to himself upon the church that irreconcilable 
 schism of perdition and apostasy, the Roman antichrist; 
 for that the exaltation of the pope arose out of the 
 reason of prelaty, it cannot be denied. And as I noted 
 before, that the pattern of the high priest pleaded for 
 in the gospel, (for take away the head priest, the rest 
 are but a carcase,) sets up with better reason a pope 
 than an archbishop ; for if prelaty must still rise and 
 rise till it come to a primate, why should it stay there ? 
 when as the catholic government is not to follow the 
 division of kingdoms, the temple best representing the 
 universal church, and the high priest the universal head : 
 so I observe here, that if to quiet schism there must be 
 one head of prelaty in a land, or monarchy, rising from 
 a provincial to a national primacy, there may, upon 
 better grounds of repressing schism, be set up one 
 catholic head over the catholic church. For the peace 
 and good of the church is not terminated in the schism- 
 less estate of one or two kingdoms, but should be pro- 
 vided for by the joint consultation of all reformed 
 Christendom : that all controversy may end in the final 
 pronounce or canon of one archprimate or protestant 
 pope. Although by this means, for aught I see, all 
 the diameters of schism may as well meet and be knit 
 up in the centre of one grand falsehood. Now let all 
 
 impartial men arbitrate what goodly inference these 
 two main reasons of the prelates have, that by a natu- 
 ral league of consequence make more for the pope than 
 for themselves ; yea, to say more home, are the very 
 womb for a new subantichrist to breed in, if it be not 
 rather the old force and power of the same man of sin 
 counterfeiting protestant. It was not the prevention 
 of schism, but it was schism itself, and the hateful thirst 
 of lording in the church, that first bestowed a being 
 upon prelaty ; this was the true cause, but the pretence 
 is still the same. The prelates, as they would have it 
 thought, are the only mauls of schism. Forsooth if 
 they be put down, a deluge of innumerable sects will 
 follow ; we shall be all Brownists, Faniilists, Anabap- 
 tists. For the word Puritan seems to be quashed, and 
 all that heretofore were counted such, are now Brown- 
 ists. And thus do they raise an evil report upon the 
 expected reforming g^race that God hath bid us hope 
 for ; like those faithless spies, whose carcases shall 
 perish in the wilderness of their own confused igno- 
 rance, and never taste the good of reformation. Do they 
 keep away schism ? If to bring a numb and chill 
 stupidity of soul, an unactive blindness oi mind, upon 
 the people by their leaden doctrine, or no doctrine at 
 all ; if to persecute all knowing and zealous Christians 
 by the violence of their courts, be to keep away schism, 
 they keep schism away indeed : and by this kind of 
 discipline all Italy and Spain is as purely and politicly 
 kept from schism as England hath been by them. 
 With as good a plea might the dead-palsy boast to a 
 man, It is I that free you from stitches and pains, and 
 the troublesome feeling of cold and heat, of wounds 
 and strokes ; if I were gone, all these would molest you. 
 The winter might as well vaunt itself against the 
 spring, I destroy all noisome and rank weeds, I keep 
 down all pestilent vapours; yes, and all wholesome 
 herbs, and all fresh dews, by your violent and hide- 
 bound frost : but when the gentle west winds shall open 
 the fruitful bosom of the eartli, thus overgirded by your 
 imprisonment, then the flowers put forth and spring, 
 and tlien the sun shall scatter tlie mists, and the ma- 
 nuring hand of the tiller shall root up all that burdens 
 the soil without thank to your bondage. But far 
 worse than any frozen captivity is the bondage of pre- 
 lates; for that other, if it keep down any thing which 
 is good within the earth, so doth it likewise that which 
 is ill ; but these let out freely the ill, and keep down 
 the good, or else keep down the lesser ill, and let out 
 the greatest. Be ashamed at last to tell the parliament, 
 ye curb schismatics, whenas they know ye cherish and 
 side with papists, and are now as it were one party 
 with them, and it is said they help to petition for ye. 
 Can we believe that your government strains in good 
 earnest at the petty gnats of schism, whenas we see it 
 makes nothing to swallow the camel heresy of Rome, 
 but that indeed your throats are of the right pbarisaical 
 strain ? where are those schismatics, with whom the 
 prelates hold such hot skirmish ? shew us your acts, 
 those glorious annals which your courts of loathed me- 
 mory lately deceased have left us ? Those schismatic* 
 I doubt me will be found the most of them such as 
 
38 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book I. 
 
 whose only schism was to have spoken the truth 
 against your hi^^h ahominalions and cruelties in the 
 church ; this is the schism ye hate most, the removal 
 of your criminous hierarchy. A politic government of 
 yours, and of a pleasant conceit, set up to remove 
 those as a pretended schism, that would remove yoii 
 as a palpable heresy in government. If the schism 
 would pardon ye that, she might go jagged in as many 
 cuts and slashes as she pleased for you. As for the 
 rending of tlic church, we have many reasons to think 
 it IS not that which ye labour to prevent, so much as 
 the rending of your pontifical sleeves : that schism 
 would be the sorest schism to you ; that would be 
 Brownism and Anabaptism indeed. If we go down, 
 say you. (as if Adrian's wall were broken,) a flood of sects 
 will rush in. What sects ? What are their opinions ? 
 Give us the inventory : it will appear both by your 
 former prosecutions and your present instances, that 
 they are only such to speak of, as are offended with 
 your lawless government, your ceremonies, your 
 liturgy, an extract of the mass-book translated. But 
 that they should be contemners of public prayer, 
 and churches used without superstition, I trust God 
 will manifest it ere long to be as false a slander, as 
 your former slanders against the Scots. Noise it till 
 ye be hoarse, that a rabble of sects will come in ; it will 
 be answered ye, no rabble, sir priest, but an unanimous 
 multitude of good protestants will then join to the 
 church, which now, because of you, stand separated. 
 This will be the dreadful consequence of your removal. 
 As for those terrible names of sectaries and schismatics, 
 which ye have got together, we know your manner of 
 fight, when the quiver of your arguments, which is 
 ever thin, and weakly stored, after the first brunt is 
 quite empty, your course is to betake ye to your other 
 quiver of slander, wherein lies your best archery. 
 And whom you could not move by sophistical arguing, 
 them you think to confute by scandalous misnaming; 
 thereby inciting the blinder sort of people to mislike 
 and deride sound doctrine and good christianitj', under 
 two or three vile and hateful terms. But if we could 
 easily endure and dissolve your doughtiest reasons in 
 argument, we shall more easily bear the worst of your 
 unreasonableness in calumny and false report: espe- 
 cially being foretold by Christ, that if he our master 
 were by your predecessors called Samaritan and Beel- 
 zebub, we must not think it strange if his best disci- 
 ples in the reformation, as at first by those of your tribe 
 they were called Lollards and Hussites, so now by you 
 be termed Puritans and Brownists. But my hope is, 
 that the people of England will not suflTer themselves 
 to be juggled thus out of their faith and religion by a 
 mist of names cast before their eyes, but will search 
 wisely by the Scriptures, and look quite through this 
 fraudulent aspersion of a disgraceful name into the 
 things themselves: knowing that the primitive Chris- 
 tians in their times were accounted such as are now 
 called Familists and Adamites, or worse. And many 
 on the prelatic side, like the church of Sardis, have a 
 name to lire, and yet are dead ; to be pi-otestants, and 
 are indeed papists in most of their principles. Thus 
 
 persuaded, this your old fallacy we shall soon unmask, 
 and quickly apprehend how you prevent schism, and 
 who are your schismatics. But what if ye prevent 
 and hinder all good means of preventing schism ? 
 That way w hich the apostles used, was to call a coun- 
 cil : from which, by any thing that can be learned 
 from the fifteenth of tlie Acts, no faithful Christian was 
 debarred, to whom knowledge and piety might give 
 entrance. Of such a council as tliis every parochial 
 consistory is a right homogeneous and constituting 
 part, being in itself, as it were, a little synod, and 
 towards a general assembly moving upon her own basis 
 in an even and finn progression, as those smaller squares 
 in battle unite in one great cube, the main phalanx, an 
 emblem of truth and steadfastness. W^hereas, on the 
 other side, prelaly ascending by a gradual monarchy 
 from bishop to archbishop, from thence to primate, and 
 from thence, for there can be no reason yielded neither 
 in nature nor in religion, wherefore, if it have lawfully 
 mounted thus high, it should not be a lordly ascendant 
 in the horoscope of the church, from primate to patri- 
 arch, and so to pope : I say, prelaty thus ascending in 
 a continual pyramid upon pretence to perfect the 
 church's unity, if notwithstanding it be found most 
 needful, yea the utmost help to dam up the rents of 
 schism by calling a council, what does it but teach us 
 that prelaty is of no force to effect this work, which she 
 boasts to be her masterpiece ; and that her pyramid 
 aspires and sharpens to ambition, not to perfection or 
 unity .'' This we know, that as often as any great 
 schism disparts the church, and synods be proclaimed, 
 the presbyters have as great right there, and as free 
 vote of old, as the bishops, which the canon law con- 
 ceals not. So that prelaty, if she will seek to close up 
 divisions in the church, must be forced to dissolve and 
 unmake her own pyramidal figure, which she affirms 
 to be of such uniting power, whenas indeed it is the 
 most dividing and schisraatical form that geometricians 
 know of, and must be fain to inglobe or incube herself 
 among the presbyters ; which she hating to do, sends 
 her haughty prelates from all parts with their forked 
 mitres, the badge of schism, or the stamp of his cloven 
 foot whom they serve I think, who, according to their 
 hierarchies acuminating still higher and higher in a 
 cone of prelaty, instead of healing up the gashes of 
 the church, as it happens in such pointed bodies meet- 
 ing, fall to gore one another with their sharp spires 
 for upper place and precedence, till the council itself 
 proves the greatest schism of all. And thus they are 
 so far from hindering dissension, that they have made 
 unprofitable, and even noisome, the chiefest remedy 
 we have to keep Christendom at one, which is by coun- 
 cils : and these, if we rightly consider apostolic exam- 
 ple, are nothing else but general presbyteries. This 
 seemed so far from the apostles to think much of, as if 
 hereby their dignity were impaired, that, as we may 
 gather by those epistles of Peter and John, which are 
 likely to be latest written, when the church grew to a 
 settling, like those heroic patricians of Rome (if we 
 may use such comparison) hastening to lay down their 
 dictatorship, they rejoiced to call themselves, and to be 
 
Book I. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 39 
 
 as fellow-elders among their brethren ; knowing that 
 their high office was but a.s the scaffolding of the 
 church yet unbuilt, and would be but a troublesome 
 disfigurement, so soon as tlie building was finished. 
 But the lofty minds of an age or two after, such was 
 their small discerning, thought it a poor indignity, 
 that the high-reared government of the church should 
 so on a sudden, as it seemed to them, squat into a pres- 
 bytery. Next, or rather, before councils, the timeliest 
 prevention of schism is to preach the gospel abundantly 
 and powerfully throughout all the land, to instruct the 
 youth religiously, to endeavour how the Scriptures 
 may be easiest understood by all men ; to all which 
 the proceedings of these men have been on set purpose 
 contrary. But how, O prelates, should you remove 
 schism ? and how should you not remove and oppose 
 all the means of removing schism ? when prelaty is a 
 schism itself from the most reformed and most flourish- 
 ing of our neighbour churches abroad, and a sad sub- 
 ject of discord and offence to the whole nation at home. 
 The remedy which you allege, is the very disease we 
 groan under; and never can be to us a remedy but by 
 removing itself Your predecessors were believed to 
 assume this pre-eminence above their brethren, only 
 that they might appease dissension. Now God and 
 the church call upon you, for the same reason, to lay 
 it down, as being to thousands of good men offensive, 
 burdensome, intolerable. Surrender that pledge, which, 
 unless you foully usurped it, the church gave you, and 
 now claims it again, for the reason she first lent it. 
 Discharge the trust committed to you, prevent schism ; 
 and that ye can never do, but by discharging your- 
 selves. That government which ye hold, we confess, 
 prevents much, hinders much, removes much ; but 
 what.-* the schisms and grievances of tlie church ? no, 
 but all the peace and unity, all tlie welfare not of the 
 church alone, but of the whole kingdom. And if it be 
 still permitted ye to hold, will cause the most sad, I 
 know not whether separation be enough to say, but 
 such a wide gulf of distraction in this land, as will 
 never close her dismal gap until ye be forced, (for of 
 yourselves you will never do as that Roman, Curtius, 
 nobly did,) for the church's peace and your country's, to 
 leap into the midst, and be no more scch. By this we 
 shall know whether yours be that ancient prelaty, which 
 you say was first constituted for the reducement of 
 quiet and unanimity into the church, for then you will 
 not delay to prefer that above your own preferment. If 
 otherwise, we must be confident that your prelaty is no- 
 thing else but your ambition, an insolent prefemng of 
 yourselves above your brethren ; and all your learned 
 scraping in antiquity, even to disturb the bones of old 
 Aaron and his sons in their graves, is but to maintain 
 and set upon our necks a stately and severe dignity, 
 which you called sacred, and is nothing in very deed but 
 a grave and reverend gluttony, a sanctimonious avarice ; 
 in comparison of which, all the duties and dearnesses 
 M'hich ye owe to God or to his church, to law, cus- 
 tom, or nature, ye have resolved to set at nought. I 
 could put you in mind what counsel Clement, a fellow- 
 labourer with the apostles, gave to the presbyters of 
 
 Corinth, whom the people, though unjustly, sought to 
 remove. " Who among you," saith he, " is noble- 
 minded, who is pitiful, who is charitable ? let him say 
 thus. If for me this sedition, this enmity, these differ- 
 ences be, I willingly depart, I go my ways ; only let 
 the flock of Christ be at peace with the presbyters that 
 are set over it. He that shall do this," saith he, " shall 
 get bim great honour in the Lord, and all places will 
 receive him.'' This was Clement's counsel to good 
 and holy men, that they should depart rather from their 
 just office, than by their stay to ravel out the seamless 
 garment of concord in the church. But I have better 
 counsel to give the prelates, and far more acceptable 
 to their ears ; this advice in my opinion is fitter for 
 them : cling fast to 3'our pontifical sees, bate not, quit 
 yourselves like barons, stand to the utmost for ^our 
 haughty courts and votes in parliament. Still tell us, 
 that you prevent schism, though schism and combus- 
 tion be the very issue of your bodies, your first-born ; 
 and set your country a bleeding in a prelatical mutiny, 
 to fight for your pomp, and that ill-favoured weed of 
 temporal honour, that sits dishonourably upon your 
 laic shoulders ; that ye may be fat and fleshy, swoln 
 with high thoughts and big with mischievous designs, 
 when God comes to visit upon you all this fourscore 
 years' vexation of his church under your Egyptian 
 tyranny. For certainly of all those blessed souls which 
 you have persecuted, and those miserable ones which 
 you have lost, the just vengeance docs not sleep. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 That those many sects and schisms by some supposed to 
 be among us, and that rebellion in Ireland, ought 
 not to be a hinderance, but a hastening of reform- 
 ation. 
 
 As for tlioso many sects and divisions rumoured abroad 
 to be amongst us, it is not hard to perceive, that they 
 are partly the mer« fictions and false alarms of the pre- 
 lates, thereby to cast amazements and panic terrours 
 into tlie hearts of weaker Christians, that they should 
 not venture to change the ])resent deformity of the 
 church, for fear of I know not what worse incon- 
 veniencies. With the same objected fears and sus- 
 picions, we know that subtle prelate Gardner sought 
 to divert the reformation. It may suffice us to be 
 taught by St. Paul, that there must be sects for the 
 manifesting of those that are sound-hearted. These are 
 but winds and flaws to try the floating vessel of our 
 faith, whether it be stanch and sail well, whether our 
 ballast be just, our anchorage and cable strong. By 
 this is seen who lives by faith and certain knowledge, 
 and who by credulity and the prevailing opinion of the 
 age ; whose virtue is of an unchangeable grain, and 
 whose of a slight wash. If God come to try our con- 
 stancy, we ought not to shrink or stand the less firmly 
 for that, but pass on with more steadfast resolution ta 
 
4Q 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book II. 
 
 t-stablisb the trutli, thoug'li it were through a lane of 
 sects and heresies on each side. Other tiling's men do 
 to the glorv of God : but sects and errours, it seems, 
 God suffers to be for the glory of good men, that the 
 world may know and reverence their true fortitude and 
 undaunted constancy in the truth. Let us not there- 
 fore make these things an incumbrance, or an excuse 
 of our delay in reforming, which God sends us as an 
 incitement to proceed with more honour and alacrity : 
 I'or if there were no opposition, where were the trial of 
 an unfeigned goodness and magnanimity ? Virtue that 
 wavers is not virtue, but vice revolted from itself, and 
 aAer a while returning. The actions of just and pious 
 men do not darken in their middle course ; but Solomon 
 tells us, they are as the shining light, that shineth more 
 and more unto the perfect day. But if wc shall suffer 
 the triding doubts and jealousies of future sects to 
 overcloud the fair beginnings of purposed reformation, 
 let us rather fear that another proverb of the same wise 
 man be not upbraided to us, that " the way of the 
 wicked is as darkness, they stumble at they know not 
 what." If sects and schisms be turbulent in the unset- 
 tled estate of a church, while it lies under the amending 
 hand, it best beseems our christian courage to think 
 they are but as the throes and pangs that go before the 
 birth of reformation, and that the work itself is now in 
 doing. For if we look but on the nature of elemental 
 and mixed things, we know they cannot suffer any 
 change of one kind or quality into another, without the 
 struggle of contrarieties. And in things artificial, 
 seldom any elegance is wrought without a superfluous 
 waste and refuse in the transaction. No marble statue 
 can be politely carved, no fair edifice built, without 
 almost as much rubbish and sweeping. Insomuch that 
 even in the spii-itual conflict of St. Paul's conversion, 
 there fell scales from his eyes, that were not perceived 
 before. No wonder then in the reforming of a church, 
 which is never brought to effect without the fierce en- 
 counter of truth and falsehood together, if, as it were, 
 the splinters and shards of so violent a jousting, there 
 fall from between the shock many fond errours and 
 fanatic opinions, which, when truth has the upper 
 hand, and the reformation shall be perfected, will easily 
 be rid out of the way, or kept so low, as that they shall 
 be only the exercise of our knowledge, not the distur- 
 bance or interruption of our faith. As for that which 
 Barclay, in his " Image of Minds," writes concerning 
 the horrible and barbarous conceits of Englishmen in 
 their religion, I deem it spoken like what he was, a 
 fugitive papist traducing the island whence he sprung. 
 It may be more judiciously gathered from hence, that 
 the Englishman of many other nations is least atheisti- 
 cal, and bears a natural disposition of much reverence 
 and awe towards the Deity ; but in his weakness and 
 want of better instruction, which among us too fre- 
 quently is neglected, especially by the meaner sort, 
 turning the bent of his own wits, with a scrupulous 
 and ceaseless care, what he might do to inform himself 
 arightofGod and his worship, he may fall not unlikely 
 sometimes, as any other landman, into an uncouth 
 opinion. And rcrily if we look at his native toward- 
 
 lincss in tiic roughcast without breeding, some nation 
 or other may haply be better composed to a natural 
 civility and right judgment than be. But if he get 
 the benefit once of a wise and well rectified nurture, 
 which must first come in general from tiie godly vigi- 
 lance of the church, I suppose that wherever mention 
 is made of countries, manners, or men, the English 
 people, among the first that shall be praised, may de- 
 serve to be accounted a right pious, right honest, and 
 right hardy nation. But thus while some stand dally- 
 ing and deferring to reform for fear of that which 
 should mainly hasten them forward, lest schism and 
 errour should increase, we may now thank ourselves 
 and our delays, if instead of schism a bloody and in- 
 human rebellion be strook in between our slow movings. 
 Indeed against violent and powerful opposition there 
 can be no just blame of a lingering dispatch. But this 
 I urge against those that discourse it for a maxim, as 
 if the swift opportunities of establishing or reforming 
 religion were to attend upon the phlegm of state-busi- 
 ness. In state many things at first are crude and hard 
 to digest, which only time and deliberation can supple 
 and concoct. But in religion, wherein is no immatu- 
 rity, nothing out of season, it goes far otherwise. The 
 door of grace turns upon smooth hinges, wide opening to 
 send out, but soon shutting to recall the precious offers of 
 mercy to a nation : which, unless watchfulness and zeal, 
 two quicksighted and ready-handed virgins, be there in 
 our behalf to receive, we lose : and still the oflener we 
 lose, the straiter the door opens, and the less is offered. 
 This is all we get by demurring in God's service. It 
 is not rebellion that ought to be the hinderance of re- 
 formation, but it is the want of this which is the cause 
 of that. The prelates which boast themselves the only 
 bridlers of schism, God knows have been so cold and 
 backward both there and with us to repress heresy 
 and idolatry, that either, through their carelessness, 
 or their craft, all tljis mischief is befallen. What 
 can the Irish subjects do less in God's just displeasure 
 against us, than revenge upon English bodies the 
 little care that our prelates have had of their souls .'' Nor 
 hath their negligence been new in that island, but ever 
 notorious in Queen Elizabeth's days, as Camden their 
 known friend forbears not to complain. Yet so little 
 are they touched with remorse of these their cruelties, 
 (for these cruelties are theirs, the bloody revenge of 
 those souls which they have famished,) that whenas 
 against our brethren the Scots, who, by their upright 
 and loyal deeds, have now brought themselves an 
 honourable name to posterity, whatsoever malice by 
 slander could invent, rage in hostility attempt, they 
 greedily attempted; toward these murderous Irish, the 
 enemies of God and mankind, a cursed offspring of 
 their own connivance, no man takes notice but that 
 they seem to be very calmly and indifferently affected. 
 Where tlien should we begin to extinguish a rebellion, 
 that hath its cause from the misgoveniraent, of the 
 church ? where, but at the church's reformation, and 
 the removal of that government, which pursues and 
 wars with all good Christians under the name of schis- 
 matics, but maintains and fosters all papists and ido- 
 
Book I. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 41 
 
 latere as tolerable Christians ? And If the sacred Bible 
 may be our light, we are neither without example, nor 
 the witness of God himself, that the corrupted state of 
 the church is both the cause of tumult and civil wars, 
 and that to stint them, the peace of the church must 
 first be settled. " Now, for a long season," saith Aza- 
 riah to King- Asa, " Israel hath been without the true 
 God, and without a teaching priest, and without law : 
 and in those times there was no peace to him tliat went 
 out, nor to him that came in, but great vexations were 
 upon all the inhabitants of the countries. And nation 
 was destroyed of nation, and city of city, for God did 
 vex them with all adversity. Be ye strong therefore," 
 saitli lie to the reformers of that age, " and let not your 
 hands be weak, for your work shall be rewarded." And 
 in those prophets that lived in the times of reformation 
 after the captivity, often doth God stir up the people 
 to consider, that while establishment of church-matters 
 was neglected, and put off, there " was no peace to 
 him that went out or came in ; for I," saith God, 
 " had set all men every one against his neighbour." 
 But from tlie very day forward that they went seriously 
 and effectually about the welfare of the church, he tells 
 them, that they themselves might perceive the sudden 
 change of things into a prosperous and peaceful con- 
 dition. But it will here be said, that the reformation 
 is a long work, and the miseries of Ireland are urgent 
 of a speedy redress. They be indeed ; and how speedy 
 we are, the poor afflicted remnant of our martyred 
 countrymen that sit there on the seashore, counting 
 the hours of our delay with their sighs, and tlie minutes 
 
 with their falling tears, perhaps with the distilling of 
 their bloody wounds, if they have not quite by this 
 time cast off, and almost cursed the vain hope of our 
 foundered ships and aids, can best judge how speedy 
 we are to their relief. But let their succours be hasted, 
 as all need and reason is ; and let not therefore the re- 
 formation, which is the chiefest cause of success and 
 victory, be still procrastinated. They of the captivity 
 in their greatest extremities could find both counsel 
 and hands enough at once to build, and to expect the 
 enemy's assault. And we, for our parts, a populous 
 and mighty nation, must needs be fallen into a strange 
 plight either of effeminacy or confusion, if Ireland, that 
 was once the conquest of one single earl with his pri- 
 vate forces, and tljc small assistance of a petty Kernish 
 prince, should now take up all tlie wisdom and prowess 
 of this potent monarchy, to quell a barbarous crew of 
 rebels, whom, if we take but the right course to sub- 
 due, that is, beginning at the reformation of our church, 
 their own horrid murders and rapes will so fight against 
 them, that the very sutlers and horee-boys of the camp 
 will be able to rout and chase them, without the stain- 
 ing of any noble sword. To proceed by other method 
 in this enterprise, be our captains and commanders 
 never so expert, will be as great an errour in the art 
 of war, as any novice in soldiership ever committed. 
 And thus I leave it as a declared truth, that neither the 
 fear of sects, no nor rebellion, can be a fit plea to stay 
 reformation, but rather to push it forward with all pos- 
 sible diligence and speed. 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 How happy were it for this frail, and as it may be 
 called mortal life of man, since all earthly things which 
 have the name of good and convenient in our daily 
 use, are withal so cumbersome and full of trouble, if 
 knowledge, yet which is tlie best and lightsomest pos- 
 session of the mind, were, as the common saying is, no 
 burden ; and that what it wanted of being a load to any 
 part of the body, it did not with a heavy advantage 
 overlay upon the spirit ! For not to speak of that know- 
 ledge that rests in the contemplation of natural causes 
 and dimensions, which must needs be a lower wisdom, 
 as the object is low, certain it is, that he who hath ob- 
 tained in more than the scantiest measure to know any 
 thing distinctly of God, and of his true worship, and 
 what is infallibly good and happy in the state of man's 
 life, what in itself evil and miserable, though vulgarly 
 not so esteemed ; he that hath obtained to know this, the 
 only high valuable wisdom indeed, remembering also 
 that God, even to a strictness, requires the improvement 
 of these his entrusted gifts, cannot but sustain a sorer 
 burden of mind, and more pressing, than any support- 
 
 able toil or weight which the body can labour under, 
 how and in what manner he shall dispose and employ 
 those sums of knowledge and illumination, which God 
 hath sent him into tliis world to trade with. And that 
 which aggravates the burden more, is, that, having re- 
 ceived amongst his allotted parcels, certain precious 
 truths, of such an orient lustre as no diamond can 
 equal ; which nevertheless he has in charge to put off 
 at any cheap rate, yea, for nothing to them that will ; 
 the great merchants of this world, fearing that this 
 course would soon discover and disgrace the false glit- 
 ter of their deceitful wares, wherewith they abuse the 
 people, like poor Indians with beads and glasses, prac- 
 tise by all means how they may suppress the vending 
 of such rarities, and at such a cheapness as would undo 
 them, and turn their trash upon their hands. There- 
 fore by gratifying the corrupt desires of men in fleshly 
 doctrines, they stir them up to pereecute with hatred 
 and contempt all those, that seek to bear themselves 
 uprightly in this their spiritual factory : which they 
 foreseeing, though they cannot but testify of truth, and 
 
42 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book II. 
 
 the excellency of that heavenly trafHck which tliey 
 bring, against what opposition or danger soever, yet 
 needs must it sit heavily upon their spirits, that, being 
 in God's prime intention, and their own, selected he- 
 ralds of peace, and dispensers of treasure inestimable, 
 without price to them that have no peace, tliey find in 
 the discharge of their commission, that they are made 
 the greatest variance and offence, a very sword and fire 
 both in house and city over the whole earth. This is 
 that which the sad prophet Jeremiah laments : " Wo 
 is me, my mother, that thou hast bom me, a man of 
 strife and contention!" And although divine inspira- 
 tion must certainly have been sweet to those ancient 
 prophets, yet the irksomeness of that truth which they 
 brought was so unpleasant unto them, that everywhere 
 they call it a burden. Yea, that mysterious book of 
 revelation, which the great evangelist was bid to eat, 
 as it had been some eyebrightening electuary of know- 
 ledge and foresight, though it were sweet in his mouth, 
 and in the learning, it was bitter in his belly, bitter in 
 the denouncing. Nor was this hid from the wise poet 
 Sophocles, who in that place of his tragedy, where 
 Tiresias is called to resolve king CEdipus in a matter 
 which he knew would be grievous, brings him in be- 
 moaning his lot, that he knew more than other men. 
 For surely to every good and peaceable man, it must in 
 nature needs be a hateful thing to be the displeaser 
 and molester of thousands ; much better would it like 
 him doubtless to be the messenger of gladness and 
 contentment, which is his chief intended business to 
 all mankind, but that they resist and oppose their own 
 true happiness. But when God commands to take the 
 trumpet, and blow a dolorous or jarring blast, it lies 
 not in man's will what he shall say, or what he 
 shall conceal. If he shall think to be silent as Jere- 
 miah did, because of the reproach and derision he met 
 with daily, " and all his familiar friends watched for 
 his halting," to be revenged on him for speaking the 
 truth, be would be forced to confess as he confessed ; 
 " his word was in my heart as a burning fire shut up 
 in my bones; I was weary with forbearing and could not 
 stay." Which might teach these times not suddenly 
 to condemn all things that are sharply spoken or vehe- 
 mently written as proceeding out of stomach, virulence, 
 and ill nature ; but to consider rather, that if the pre- 
 lates have leave to say the worst that can be said, or do 
 the worst that can be done, while they strive to keep 
 to themselves, to their great pleasure and commodity, 
 those things which they ought to render up, no man 
 can be justly offended with him that shall endeavour 
 to impart and bestow, without any gain to himself, 
 those sharp and saving words which would be a terrour 
 and a torment in him to keep back. For me, I have 
 determined to lay up as the best treasure and solace of 
 a good old age, if God vouchsafe it me, the honest 
 liberty of free speech from my youth, where I shall 
 think it available in so dear a concernment as the 
 church's good. For if I be, either by disposition or 
 what other cause, too inquisitive, or suspicious of my- 
 self and mine own doings, who can help it? But this 
 I foresee, that should the church be brought under 
 
 heavy oppression, and God have given me ability the 
 while to reason against that man that should be the au- 
 thor of so foul a deed ; or should she, by blessing from 
 above on the industry and courage of faithful men, 
 change this her distracted estate into better days, with- 
 out the least furtherance or contribution of those few 
 talents, which God at that present had lent me; I fore- 
 see what stories I should hear within myself, all my 
 life after, of discourage and reproach. Timorous and 
 un;rrateful, the church of God is now again at the foot 
 of her insulting enemies, and thou bcwailcst ; what 
 matters it for thee, or thy bewailing ? When time was, 
 thou couldst not find a syllable of all that thou hast read, 
 or studied, to utter in her behalf Yet ease and leisure 
 was given thee for thy retired thoughts, out of the 
 sweat of other men. Thou hast the diligence, the 
 parts, the language of a man, if a vain subject were to 
 be adorned or beautified ; but when the cause of God 
 and his church was to be pleaded, for which purpose 
 that tongue was given thee which thou hast, God lis- 
 tened if he could hear thy voice among his zealous ser- 
 vants, but thou wert dumb as a beast ; from hencefor- 
 ward be that which thine own brutish silence hath 
 made thee. Or else I should have heard on the other 
 ear; slothful, and ever to be set light by, the church 
 hath now overcome her late distresses after the un- 
 wearied labours of many her true servants that stood up 
 in her defence ; thou also wouldst take upon thee to 
 share amongst them of their joy : but wherefore thou ? 
 Where canst thou shew any word or deed of thine 
 which might have hastened her peace? Whatever thou 
 dost now talk, or write, or look, is the alms of other 
 men's active prudence and zeal. Dare not now to say 
 or do any thing better than thy foi-mer sloth and in- 
 fancy ; or if thou darest, thou dost impudently to 
 make a thrifty purchase of boldness to thyself, out 
 of the painful merits of other men ; what before was 
 thy sin is now thy duty, to be abject and Avorthless. 
 These, and such like lessons as these, I know would have 
 been my matins duly, and my even-song. But now by 
 this little diligence, mark what a privilege I have gain- 
 ed with good men and saints, to claim my right of la- 
 menting the tribulations of the church, if she should 
 suffer, when others, that have ventured nothing for her 
 sake, have not the honour to be admitted mourners. But 
 if she lift up her drooping head and prosper, among 
 those that have something more than wished her wel- 
 fare, I have my charter and freehold of rejoicing to me 
 and my heirs. Concerning therefore this wayward 
 subject against prelaty, the touching whereof is so dis- 
 tasteful and disquietous to a number of men, as by 
 what hatli been said I may deserve of charitable readers 
 to be credited, that neither envy nor gall hath entered 
 me upon this controversy, but the enforcement of con- 
 science only, and a preventive fear lest the omitting of 
 this duty should be against me, when I would store up 
 to myself the good provision of peaceful hours : so, lest 
 it should be still imputed to me, as I have found it 
 hath been, that some self-pleasing humour of vain-glory 
 hath incited me to contest with men of high estimation, 
 now while green years are upon my head ; from this 
 
Book II. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 43 
 
 needless surmisal I shall hope to dissuade the intel- 
 ligent and equal auditor, if I can but say successfully 
 that which in this exigent behoves me ; although t 
 would be heard only, if it might be, by the elegant and 
 learned reader, to whom principally for a while I shall 
 beg leave I may address myself. To him it will be no 
 new thing, though I tell him that if I hunted after 
 praise, by the ostentation of wit and learning, I should 
 not write thus out of mine own season when I have 
 neither yet completed to my mind the full circle of ray 
 private studies, although I complain not of any insuffi- 
 ciency to the matter in hand ; or were I ready to ray 
 wishes, it were a folly to commit any thing elaborately 
 composed to the careless and interrupted listening of 
 these tumultuous times. Next, if I were wise only to 
 my own ends, I would certainly take such a subject as 
 of itself might catch applause, whereas this hath all the 
 disadvantages on the contrary, and such a subject as 
 the publishing whereof might be delayed at pleasure, 
 and time enough to pencil it over with all the curious 
 touches of art, even to the perfection of a faultless pic- 
 ture ; whenas in this argument the not deferring is of 
 great raoment to the good speeding, that if solidity 
 have leisure to do her office, art cannot have much. 
 Lastly, I should not choose this manner of writing, 
 wherein knowing myself inferiour to myself, led by 
 the genial power of nature to another task, I have the 
 use, as I may account, but of my left hand. And though 
 I shall be foolish in saying more to this purpose, yet, 
 since it will be such a folly, as wisest men go about to 
 commit, having only confessed and so committed, I 
 may trust with more reason, because with more folly 
 to have courteous pardon. For although a poet, soar- 
 ing in the high reason of his fancies, with his garland 
 and singing robes about him, might, without apology, 
 speak more of iiimself than I mean to do; yet for me 
 sitting here below in the cool element of prose, a mor- 
 tal thing among many readers of no empyreal conceit, 
 to venture and divulge unusual things of myself, I 
 shall petition to the gentler sort, it may not be envy 
 to me. I must say therefore, that after I had for my 
 first years, by the ceaseless diligence and care of my 
 father, (whom God recompense !) been exercised to the 
 tongues, and some sciences, as my age would suffer, 
 by sundry mastei-s and teachers both at home and at 
 the schools, it was found, that whether ought was im- 
 posed me by them that had the overlooking, or betaken 
 to of mine own choice in English, or other tongue, 
 prosing or versing, but chiefly this latter, the style, by 
 certain vital signs it had, was likely to live. But 
 much latelier in the private academies of Italy, whither 
 I was favoured to resort, perceiving that some trifles 
 which I had in memory, composed at under twenty or 
 thereabout, (for the manner is, that every one must 
 give some proof of his wit and reading there,) met w ith 
 acceptance above what was looked for ; and other 
 things, which I had shifted in scarcity of books and 
 conveniences to patch up amongst them, were received 
 with written encomiums, which the Italian is not for- 
 ward to bestow on men of this side the Alps ; I began 
 thus far to assent botli to them and divers of my friends 
 
 here at home, and not less to an inward prompting which 
 now grew daily upon me, that by labour and intense 
 study, (which I take to be my portion in this life,) joined 
 with the strong propensity of nature, I might perhaps 
 leave something so written to after-times, as they should 
 not willingly let it die. These thoughts at once pos- 
 sessed me, and these other; that if I were certain to 
 write as men buy leases, for three lives and downward, 
 there ought no regard be sooner had than to God's 
 glory, by the honour and instruction of my country. 
 For which cause, and not only for that I knew it would 
 be hard to arrive at the second rank among the Latins, 
 I applied myself to that resolution, which Ariosto fol- 
 lowed against the persuasions of Bembo, to fix all the 
 industry and art I could unite to the adorning of my 
 native tongue ; not to make verbal curiosities the end, 
 (that were a toilsome vanity,) but to be an interpreter 
 and relater of the best and sagest things, among mine 
 own citizens throughout this island in the mother dia- 
 lect. That what the greatest and choicest wits of 
 Athens, Rome, or modern Italy, and those Hebrews of 
 old did for their country, I, in my proportion, with this 
 over and above, of being a Christian, might do for 
 mine ; not caring to be once named abroad, though 
 perhaps I could attain to that, but content with these 
 British islands as my world; whose fortune hath hither- 
 to been, that if the Athenians, as some say, made their 
 small deeds great and renowned by their eloquent 
 writers, England hath had her noble achievements 
 made small by the unskilful handling of monks and 
 mechanics. 
 
 Time serves not now, and perhaps I might seem too 
 profuse to give any certain account of wiiat the mind 
 at home, in the spacious circuits of her musing, hath 
 liberty to propose to herself, though of iiighest hope 
 and hardest attempting; whether that epic form whereof 
 the two poems of Homer, and those other two of Virgil 
 and Tasso, are a diffuse, and the book of Job a brief 
 model :" or whether the rules of Aristotle herein are 
 strictly to be kept, or nature to be followed, which in 
 them that know art, and use judgment, is no transgres- 
 sion, but an enriching of art : and lastly, what king or 
 knight, before the conquest, might be chosen in whom 
 to lay the pattern of a christian hero. And as Tasso 
 gave to a prince of Italy his choice whether he would 
 command him to write of Godfrej-'s expedition against 
 the Infidels, or Belisarius against the Goths, or Charle- 
 main against the Lorabards ; if to the instinct of nature 
 and the emboldening of art aught may be trusted, and 
 that there be nothing adverse in our climate, or the 
 fate of this age, it haply would be no rashness, from 
 an equal diligence and inclination, to present the like 
 oflfer in our own ancient stories ; or whether those 
 dramatic constitutions, wherein Sophocles and Eurip- 
 ides reign, shall be found more doctrinal and exemplary 
 to a nation. The Scripture also affords us a divine 
 pastoral drama in the Song of Solomon, consisting of 
 two persons, and a double chorus, as Origen rightly 
 judges. And the Apocalypse of St. John is the majes- 
 tic image of a high and stately tragedy, shutting up 
 and intermingling her solemn scenes and acts with a 
 
44 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book II. 
 
 serenfold chorus of hallelujahs and harping sympho- 
 nies : and this my opinion the grave authority of Pareus, 
 commenting that book, is sufficient to confirm. Or if 
 occasion shall lead, to imitate those magnific odes and 
 hymns, wherein Pindarns and Calliniachus are iu most 
 things worthy, some others in their frame judicious, in 
 their matter most an end faulty. But those frequent 
 songs throughout the law and prophets beyond all these, 
 not iu their divine argument alone, but in the very 
 critical art of composition, may be easily made appear 
 over all the kinds of lyric poesy to be incomparable. 
 These abilities, wheresoever they be found, are the in- 
 spired gift of God rarely bestowed, but yet to some 
 (though most abuse) in every nation : and are of power, 
 beside the office of a pulpit, to imbreed and cherish in 
 a great people the seeds of virtue and public civility, 
 to allay the perturbations of the mind, and set the af- 
 fections in right tune ; to celebrate in glorious and 
 lofty hymns the throne and equipage of God's almigh- 
 tiness, and what he works, and what he suffers to be 
 wrought with high providence in his church ; to sing 
 Tictorious agonies of martyrs and saints, the deeds and 
 triumphs of just and pious nations, doing valiantly 
 through faith against the enemies of Christ; to deplore 
 the general relapses of kingdoms and states from justice 
 and God's true worship. Lastly, whatsoever in religion 
 is holy and sublime, in virtue amiable or grave, what- 
 soever hath passion or admiration in all the changes 
 of that which is called fortune from without, or the 
 wily subtleties and refluxes of man's thoughts from 
 within ; all these things with a solid and treatable 
 smoothness to paint out and describe. Teaching over 
 the whole book of sanctity and virtue, through all the 
 instances of example, with such delight to those espe- 
 cially of soft and delicious temper, who will not so 
 much as look upon truth herself, unless they see her 
 elegantly dressed ; that whereas the paths of honesty 
 and good life appear now rugged and difficult, though 
 they be indeed easy and pleasant, they will then appear 
 to all men both easy and pleasant, though they were 
 rugged and difficult indeed. And what a benefit this 
 would be to our youth and gentry, may be soon guessed 
 by what we know of the corruption and bane, which 
 they suck in daily from the writings and interludes of 
 libidinous and ignorant poetasters, who having scarce 
 ever heard of that which is the main consistence of a 
 true poem, the choice of such persons as they ought to 
 introduce, and what is moral and decent to each one ; 
 do for the most part lay up vicious principles in sweet 
 pills to be swallowed down, and make the taste of vir- 
 tuous documents harsh and sour. But because the 
 spirit of man cannot demean itself lively in this body, 
 without some recreating intermission of labour and 
 serious things, it were happy for the commonwealth, if 
 our magistrates, as in those famous governments of old, 
 would take into their care, not only the deciding of our 
 contentious law cases and brawls, but the managing of 
 our publick sports and festival pastimes ; that they 
 might be, not such as were authorized a while since, 
 the provocations of drunkenness and lust, but such as 
 may inure and harden our bodies by martial exercises 
 
 to all warlike skill and performance; and may civilize, 
 adorn, and make discreet our minds by the learned and 
 affable meeting of frequent academies, and the procure- 
 ment of wise and artful recitations, sweetened with 
 eloquent and graceful inticemcnts to the love and prac- 
 tice of justice, temperance, and fortitude, instructing 
 and bettering the nation at all opportunities, that the 
 call of wisdom and virtue may be heard every where, 
 as Solomon saith ; " She crieth without, she uttereth 
 her voice in the streets, in the top of high places, in 
 the chief concourse, and in the openings of the gates." 
 Whether this may not be, not only in pulpits, but after 
 another persuasive method, at set and solemn panegu- 
 ries, in theatres, porches, or what other place or way, 
 may win most upon the people to receive at once both 
 recreation and instruction ; let them in authority con- 
 sult. The thing which I had to say, and tliose inten- 
 tions which have lived within me ever since I could 
 conceive myself any thing worth to my country, I 
 return to crave excuse that urgent reason hath plucked 
 from me, by an abortive and forcdated discovery. And 
 the accomplishment of them lies not but in a power 
 above man's to promise ; but that none hath by more 
 studious ways endeavoured, and with more unwearied 
 spirit that none shall, that I dare almost aver of myself, 
 as far as life and free leisure will extend ; and that the 
 land had once enfranchised herself from this imperti- 
 nent yoke of prelaty, under whose inquisitorious and 
 tyrannical duncery, no free and splendid wit can flou- 
 rish. Neither do I think it shame to covenant with 
 any knowing reader, that for some few years yet I may 
 go on trust with him toward the payment of what I 
 am now indebted, as being a work not to be raised 
 from the heat of youth, or the vapours of wine ; like 
 that which flows at waste from the pen of some 
 vulgar amourist, or the trencher fury of a rhyming 
 parasite ; nor to be obtained by the invocation of 
 dame memory and her siren daughters, but by de- 
 vout prayer to that eternal Spirit, who can enrich 
 with all utterance and knowledge, and sends out his 
 seraphim, with the hallowed fire of his altar, to touch 
 and purify the lips of whom he pleases : to this must 
 be added industrious and select reading, steady ob- 
 servation, insight into all seemly and generous arts and 
 affairs ; till which in some measure be compassed, at 
 mine own peril and cost, I refuse not to sustain this 
 expectation from as many as are not loth to hazard so 
 much credulity upon the best pledges that I can give 
 them. Although it nothing content me to have dis- 
 closed thus much before-hand, but that I trust hereby 
 to make it manifest with what small willingness I en- 
 dure to interrupt the pursuit of no less hopes than these, 
 and leave a calm and pleasing solitariness, fed with 
 cheerful and confident thoughts, to embark in a troubled 
 sea of noises and hoarse disputes, put from beholding 
 the bright countenance of truth in the quiet and still 
 air of delightful studies, to come into the dim reflection 
 of hollow antiquities sold by the seeming bulk, and 
 there be fain to club quotations with men whose learn- 
 ing and belief lies in marginal stuffings, who, when 
 they have, like good sumpters, laid ye down thei 
 
 1 
 
Book II. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 45 
 
 horse-loads of citations and fatliers at your door, with 
 a rhapsody of who and who were bishops here or there, 
 ye may take off their packsaddles, their day's work is 
 done, and episcopacy, as they think, stoutly vindicated. 
 Let any gentle apprehension, that can distinguish 
 learned pains from unlearned drudgery, imagine what 
 pleasure or profoundness can be in this, or what honour 
 to deal against such adversaries. But were it the 
 meanest under-service, if God by his secretary con- 
 science enjoin it, it were sad for me if I should draw 
 back ; for me especially, now when all men offer their 
 aid to help, ease, and lighten the difficult labours of 
 the church, to whose service, by the intentions of my 
 parents and friends, I was destined of a child, and in 
 mine own resolutions : till coming to some maturity of 
 years, and perceiving what tyranny had invaded the 
 church, that he who would take orders must subscribe 
 slave, and take an oath withal, which, unless he took 
 with a conscience that would retch, he must either 
 straight perjure, or split his faith ; I thought it better 
 to prefer a blameless silence before the sacred office of 
 speaking, bought and begun with servitude and for- 
 swearing. Howsoever thus church-outed by the pre- 
 lates, hence may appear the right I have to meddle 
 in these matters, as before the necessity and constraint 
 appeared. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 7V/rt/ prelaty opposeth the reason and end of the gospel 
 three ways ; and first y in her outward form. 
 
 After this digression, it would remain that I should 
 single out some other reason, which might undertake 
 for prelaty to be a fit and lawful church-government ; 
 but finding none of like validity with these that have 
 already sped according to their fortune, I shall add one 
 reason why it is not to be thought a church-government 
 at all, hut a church-tyranny, and is at hostile terms 
 with the end and reason of Christ's evangelic ministry. 
 Albeit I must confess to be half in doubt whether I 
 sliould bring it forth or no, it being so contrary to the 
 eye of the world, and the world so potent in most 
 men's hearts, that I shall endanger either not to be 
 regarded, or not to be understood ; for who is there 
 almost that measures wisdom by simplicity, strength 
 by suffering, dignity by lowliness ? Who is there that 
 counts it first to be last, something to be nothing, and 
 reckons himself of great command in that he is a ser- 
 vant ? Yet God, when he meant to subdue the world 
 and hell at once, part of that to salvation, and this 
 wholly to perdition, made choice of no other weapons 
 or auxiliaries than these, whether to save or to destroy. 
 It had been a small mastery for hira to have drawn 
 out his legions into array, and flanked them with his 
 thunder; therefore he sent foolishness to confute wis- 
 dom, weakness to bind strength, despisedness to van- 
 quish pride : and this is the great mystery of the gospel 
 
 made good in Christ himself, who, as he testifies, came 
 not to be ministered to, but to minister; and must be 
 fulfilled in all his ministers till his second coming. 
 To go against these principles St. Paul so feared, that 
 if he should but affect the wisdom of words in his 
 preaching, he thought it would be laid to his charge, 
 that he had made the cross of Christ to be of none 
 effect. Whether, then, prelaty do not make of none 
 effect the cross of Christ, by the principles it hath so 
 contrary to these, nullifying the power and end of the 
 gospel, it shall not want due proof, if it want not due 
 belief. Neither shall I stand to trifle with one that 
 would tell me of quiddities and formalities, whether 
 prelaty or prelateity, in abstract notion be this or that; 
 it suffices me that I find it in his skin, so I find it in- 
 separable, or not oftener otherwise than a phoenix hath 
 been seen; although I persuade me, that whatever 
 faultiness was but superficial to prelaty at the begin- 
 ning, is now, by the just judgment of God, long since 
 branded and inwom into the very essence thereof. 
 First, therefore, if to do the work of the gospel, Christ 
 our Lord took upon him the form of a servant ; how 
 can his servant in this ministry take upon him the 
 form of a lord P I know Bilson hath deciphered us all 
 the gallantries of signore and monsignore, and mon- 
 sieur, as circumstantially as any punctualist of Castile, 
 Naples, or Fountain-Blcau, could have done : but this 
 must not so compliment us out of our right minds, as 
 to be to learn that the form of a servant was a mean, 
 laborious, and vulgar life, aptest to teach ; which form 
 Christ thought fittest, that he might bring about his 
 will according to his own principles, choosing the 
 meaner things of this world, that he might put under 
 the high. Now, whether the pompous garb, the lordly 
 life, the wealth, the haughty distance of prelaty, be 
 those meaner things of the world, whereby God iii 
 them would manage the mystery of his gospel, be 
 it the verdict of common sense. For Christ saith in 
 St. John, " The servant is not greater than his lord, 
 nor he that is sent, greater than he that sent him;" 
 and adds, " If ye know these things, happy are ye if 
 ye do them." Then let the prelates well advise, if 
 they neither know, nor do these things, or if they 
 know, and yet do them not, wherein their happiness 
 consists. And thus is the gospel frustrated by the 
 lordly form of prelaty. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 That the ceremonious doctrine of prelaty opposeth the 
 reason and end of the gospel. 
 
 That which next declares the heavenly power, and 
 reveals the deep mystery of the gospel, is the pure sim- 
 plicity of doctrine, accounted the foolishness of this 
 world, yet crossing and confounding the pride and 
 wisdom of the flesh. And wherein consists this fleshly 
 wisdom and pride ? In being altogether ignorant of 
 
46 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCHGOVERNMENT 
 
 Book II. 
 
 God and his worship ? No surely, for men are naturally 
 ashamed of that. Where then ? It consists in a bold 
 presumption of ordering the worship and service of 
 God after man's own will in traditions and ceremonies. 
 Now if the pride and wisdom of the flesh were to be 
 defeated and confounded, no doubt but in that very 
 point wherein it was proudest, and thought itself wisest, 
 that so the victory of the gospel might be the more il- 
 lustrious. But our prelates, instead of expressing the 
 spiritual power of their ministry, by warring against 
 this chief bulwark and strong hold of the flesh, have 
 entered into fast league with the principal enemy 
 against whom they were sent, and turned the strength 
 of fleshly pride and wisdom against the pure simplicity 
 of saving truth. First, mistrusting to find the authority 
 of their order in the immediate institution of Christ, or 
 his apostles, by the clear evidence of Scripture, they 
 fly to the carnal supportment of tradition ; when we 
 appeal to the Bible, they to the unwieldy volumes of 
 tradition : and do not shame to reject the ordinance of 
 him that is eternal, for the perverse iniquity of sixteen 
 hundred years ; choosing rather to think truth itself a 
 liar, than that sixteen ages should be taxed with an 
 errour ; not considering the general apostasy that was 
 foretold, and the church's flight into the wilderness. 
 Nor is this enough ; instead of shewing the reason of 
 their lowly condition from divine example and com- 
 mand, they seek to prove their high pre-eminence from 
 human consent and authoiity. But let them chant 
 while they will of prerogatives, we shall tell them of 
 Scripture ; of custom, we of Scripture ; of acts and 
 statutes, still of Scripture ; till the quick and piercing 
 word enter to the dividing of their souls, and the 
 mighty weakness of the gospel throw down the weak 
 mightiness of man's reasoning. Now for their de- 
 meanour within the church, how have they disfigured 
 and defaced that more than angelic brightness, the un- 
 clouded serenity of christian religion, with the dark 
 overcasting of superstitious copes and flaminical ves- 
 tures, wearing on their backs, and I abhor to think, 
 perhaps in some worse place, the inexpressible image 
 of God the Father ? Tell me, ye priests, wherefore this 
 gold, wherefore these robes and surplices over the gos- 
 pel .'' Is our religion guilty of the first trespass, and 
 hath need of clothing to cover her nakedness .'' What 
 does this else but cast an ignominy upon the perfection 
 of Christ's ministry, by seeking to adorn it with that 
 which was the poor remedy of our shame ? Believe it, 
 wondrous doctors, all corporeal resemblances of inward 
 holiness and beauty are now past ; he that will clothe 
 the gospel now, intimates plainly that the gospel is 
 naked, uncomely, that I may not say reproachf\il. Do 
 not, ye church-maskers, while Christ is clothing upon 
 our barrenness with his righteous garment to make us 
 acceptable in his Father's sight ; do not, as ye do, 
 cover and hide his righteous verity with the polluted 
 clothing of your ceremonies, to make it seem more de- 
 cent in your own eyes. " How beautiful," saith Isaiah, 
 *♦ are the feet of him that bringeth good tidings, that 
 publisheth salvation !" Are the feet so beautiful, and is 
 the very bringing of these tidings so decent of itself.'* 
 
 What new decency can then be added to this by your 
 spinstry ? Ye think by tlicse gaudy glisterings to stir 
 up the devotion of the rude multitude ; ye think so, 
 because ye forsake the heavenly teaching of St. Paul 
 for the hellish sophistry of papism. If the multitude 
 be rude, the lips of the preacher must give knowledge, 
 and not ceremonies. And although some Christians 
 be new-boni babes comparatively to some that are 
 stronger, yet in respect of ceremony, which is but a ru- 
 diment of the law, the weakest Christian hath thrown 
 off the robes of his minority, and is a perfect man, as 
 to legal rites. What children's food there is in the 
 gospel, we know to be no other than the " sincerity of 
 the word, that they may grow thereby." But is here 
 the utmost of your outbraving the service of God ? No. 
 Ye have been bold, not to set your threshold by his 
 threshold, or your post by his posts ; but your sacra- 
 ment, your sign, call it what you will, by his sacrament, 
 baptizing the christian infant with a solemn sprinkle, 
 and unbaptizing for your own part with a profane and 
 impious forefinger ; as if when ye had laid the purifying 
 element upon his forehead, ye meant to cancel and 
 cross it out again with a character not of God's bidding. 
 O but the innocence of these ceremonies ! rather the 
 sottish absurdity of this excuse. What could be more 
 innocent than the washing of a cup, a glass, or hands, 
 before meat, and that under the law, when so many 
 washings were commanded, and by long tradition? 
 yet our Saviour detested their customs, though never 
 so seeming harmless, and charges them severely, that 
 they had transgressed the commandments of God by 
 their traditions, and worshipped him in vain. How 
 much more then must these, and much grosser ceremo- 
 nies now in force, delude the end of Christ's coming in 
 the flesh against the flesh, and stifle the sincerity of 
 our new covenant, which hath bound us to forsake all 
 carnal pride and wisdom, especially in matters of re- 
 ligion ? Thus we see again how prelaty, failing in 
 opposition to the main end and power of the gospel, 
 doth not join in that mysterious work of Christ, by 
 lowliness to confound height, by simplicity of doc- 
 trine the wisdom of the world, but contrariwise hath 
 made itself high in the world and the flesh, to van- 
 quish things by the world accounted low, and made 
 itself wise in tradition and fleshly ceremony, to con- 
 found the purity of doctrine which is the wisdom 
 of God. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 That prelatical jnrixdiction opposeth the reason and 
 end of the yoxpel and of state. 
 
 The third and last consideration remains, whcthr'- 
 the prelates in their function do work according to tli' 
 gospel, practising to subdue the mighty things of this 
 world by things weak, which St. Paul hath set forth to 
 be the power and excellence of the gospel ; or whether 
 
Book II. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 47 
 
 in more likelihood they hand themselves with the pre- 
 valent thing's of this world, to overrun the weak things 
 which Christ hath made choice to work by : and this 
 will soonest be discerned by the course of their juris- 
 diction. But here again I find my thoughts almost in 
 suspense betwixt yea and no, and am nigh turning 
 mine eye which way I may best retire, and not proceed 
 in this subject, blaming the ardency of my mind that 
 fixed me too attentively to come thus far. For truth, 
 I know not how, hath this unhappiness fatal to her, 
 ere she can come to the trial and inspection of the un- 
 derstanding ; being to pass through many little wards 
 and limits of the several affections and desires, she can- 
 not shift it, but must put on such colours and attire, as 
 those pathetic handmaids of the soul please to lead her 
 in to their queen : and if she find so much favour with 
 them, they let her pass in her own likeness; if not, 
 they bring her into the presence habited and coloured 
 like a notorious falsehood. And contrary, when any 
 falsehood comes that way, if they like the errand she 
 brings, they are so artful to counterfeit the very shape 
 and visage of truth, that the understanding not being 
 able to discern the fucus which these inchantresses 
 with such cunning have laid upon the feature some- 
 times of truth, sometimes of falsehood interchangeably, 
 sentences for the most part one for the other at the first 
 blush, according to the subtle imposture of these sen- 
 sual mistresses, that keep the ports and passages be- 
 tween her and the object. So that were it not for leav- 
 ing imperfect that which is already said, I should go 
 near to relinquish that which is to follow. And be- 
 cause I see that most men, as it happens in this world, 
 either weakly or falsely principled, what through ig- 
 norance, and what througii custom of licence, both in 
 discourse and writing, by what hath been of late writ- 
 ten in vulgar, have not seemed to attain the decision 
 of this point : I shall likewise assay those wily arbi- 
 tresses who in most men have, as was heard, the sole 
 ushering of truth and falsehood betw cen the sense and 
 the soul, with what loyalty they will use me in con- 
 voying this truth to my understanding ; the rather for 
 that by as much acquaintance as I can obtain with 
 them, I do not find them engaged either one way or 
 other. Concerning therefore ecclesiastical jurisdiction, 
 I find still more controversy, who should administer it, 
 tlian diligent inquiry made to learn what it is : for had 
 the pains been taken to search out tliat, it had been 
 long ago enrolled to be nothing else but a pure t3'ran- 
 nical forgery of the prelates ; and that jurisdictive 
 power in the church there ought to be none at all. It 
 cannot be conceived that what men now call jurisdic- 
 tion in the church, should be other thing than a chris- 
 tian censorship ; and therefore it is most commonly and 
 truly named ecclesiastical censure. Now if the Ro- 
 man censor, a civil function, to that severe assize of 
 surveying and controlling the privatest and slyest man- 
 ners of all men and all degrees, had no jurisdiction, no 
 courts of plea or inditement, no punitive force annexed ; 
 whether it were that to this manner of correction the 
 intanglement of suits was improper, or that the notice 
 of those upright inquisitors extended to such the most 
 
 covert and spirituous vices as would slip easily between 
 the wider and more material grasp of the law ; or that 
 it stood more with the majesty of that office to have no 
 other sergeants or maces about them but those invisible 
 ones of terrour and shame ; or, lastly, were it their fear, 
 lest the greatness of this authority and honour, armed 
 with jurisdiction, might step with ease into a tyranny : 
 in all these respects, with much more reason undoubt- 
 edly ought the censure of the church be quite divested 
 and disentailed of all jurisdiction whatsoever. For if 
 the course of judicature to a political censorship seem 
 either too tedious, or too contentious, much more may 
 it to the discipline of the church, whose definitive de- 
 crees are to be speedy, but the execution of rigour slow, 
 contrary to what in legal proceedings is most usual ; 
 and by how much the less contentious it is, by so much 
 will it be the more christian. And if the censor, in his 
 moral episcopacy, being to judge most in matters not 
 answerable by writ or action, could not use an instru- 
 ment so gross and bodily as jurisdiction is, how can 
 the minister of the gospel manage the corpulent and 
 secular trial of bill and process in things merely spiri- 
 tual? Or could that Roman office, without this juridical 
 sword or saw, strike such a reverence of itself into the 
 most undaunted hearts, as with one single dash of ig- 
 nominy to put all the senate and knighthood of Rome 
 into a tremble .'* Surely much rather might the heavenly 
 ministry of the evangel bind herself about witli far 
 more ])iercing beams of majesty and awe, by wanting 
 the beggarly help of haling^ and amercements in the 
 use of her powerful keys. For when the church with- 
 out temporal support is able to do her great works upon 
 the unforced obedience of men, it argues a divinity 
 about her. But when she thinks to credit and better 
 her spiritual efficacy, and to win herself respect and 
 dread by strutting in the false vizard of worldly autho- 
 rity, it is evident that God is not there, but tjjat her 
 apostolic virtue is departed from her, and hath left her 
 key -cold ; w hich she perceiving as in a decayed nature, 
 seeks to the outward fomentations and chafiiigs of 
 worldly help, and external flourishes, to fetch, if it be 
 possible, some motion into her extreme parts, or to 
 hatch a counterfeit life with the crafty and artificial 
 heat of jurisdiction. But it is observable, that so long 
 as the church, in true imitation of Christ, can be con- 
 tent to ride upon an ass, carrying herself and her go- 
 vernment along in a mean and simple guise, she may 
 be, as he is, a lion of the tribe of Judah; and in her 
 humility all men with loud hosannas will confess her 
 greatness. But when despising the mighty operation 
 of the Spirit by the weak things of this world, she thinks 
 to make herself bigger and more considerable, by using 
 the way of civil force and jurisdiction, as she sits upon 
 this lion she changes into an ass, and instead of ho- 
 sannas every man pelts her with stones and dirt. 
 Lastly, if the wisdom of the Romans feared to commit 
 jurisdiction to an office of so high esteem and dread 
 as was the censor's, we may see what a solecism in 
 the art of policy it hath been, all this while through 
 Christendom to give jurisdiction to ecclesiastical cen- 
 sure. For that strength, joined with religion, abused 
 
4» 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book II, 
 
 and pretended to ambitious ends, must of necessity 
 breed the heaviest and most quelling tyranny not only 
 upon the necks, but even to the souls of men : which 
 if christian Rome had been so cautelous to prevent in 
 her church, as pagan Rome was in her state, we had 
 not had such a lamentable experience thereof as now 
 we have from thence upon all Christendom. For 
 although I said before that the church coveting to ride 
 upon the lionly form of jurisdiction, makes a trans- 
 formation of herself into an ass, and becomes despica- 
 ble, that is, to those whom God hath enlightened with 
 true knowledge ; but where they remain yet in the 
 reliques of superstition, this is the extremity of their 
 bondage and blindness, tliat while they think they do 
 obeisance to the lordly vision of a lion, they do it to an 
 ass, that through the just judgment of God is permitted 
 to play the dragon among them because of their wilful 
 stupidity. And let England here well rub her eyes, 
 lest by leaving jurisdiction and church-censure to the 
 same persons, now that God hath been so long medi- 
 cining her eyesight, she do not with her over-politic 
 fetches mar all, and bring herself back again to wor- 
 ship this ass bestriding a lion. Having hitherto ex- 
 plained, that to ecclesiastical censure no jurisdictive 
 power can be added, without a childish and dangerous 
 oversight in policy, and a pernicious contradiction in 
 evangelical discipline, as anon more fully ; it will be 
 next to declare wherein the true reason and force of 
 church-censure consists, which by then it shall be laid 
 open to the root; so little is it that I fear lest any 
 crookedness, any wrinkle or spot should be found in 
 presbyteiian government, that if Bod in the famous 
 French writer, though a papist, yet affirms that the 
 commonwealth which maintains this discipline will 
 certainly flourish in virtue and piety ; I dare assure 
 myself, that every true protestant will admire the 
 infegfrity, the uprightness, the divine and gracious 
 purposes thereof, and even for the reason of it so co- 
 herent with the doctrine of the gospel, beside the evi- 
 dence of command in Scripture, will confess it to be 
 the only true church-government; and that contrary 
 to the whole end and mystery of Christ's coming in 
 the flesh, a false appearance of the same is exercised 
 by prelaty. But because some count it rigorous, and 
 that hereby men shall be liable to a double punish- 
 ment, I will begin somewhat higher, and speak of 
 punishment; which, as it is an evil, I esteem to be of 
 two sorts, or rather two degrees only, a reprobate con- 
 science in this life, and hell in the other world. 
 Whatever else men call punishment or censure, is not 
 properly an evil, so it be not an illegal violence, but a 
 saving medicine ordained of God both for the public 
 and private good of man ; who consisting of two parts, 
 the inward and the outward, was by the eternal Pro- 
 vidence left under two sorts of cure, the church and 
 the magistrate. The magistrate hath only to deal 
 with the outward part, I mean not of the body alone, 
 but of the mind in all her outward acts, which in 
 Scripture is called the outward man. So that it would 
 be helpful to us if we might borrow such authority as 
 the rhetoricians by patent may give ns, with a kind of 
 
 promethean skill to shape and fasliion this outward 
 man into the similitude of a body, and set him visible 
 before us ; imagining the inner man only as the soul. 
 Thus then the civil magistrate looking only upon the 
 outward man, (I say as a magistrate, for what he doth 
 further, he doth it as a member of the church,) if lie 
 find in his complexion, skin, or outward temperature 
 the signs and marks, or in his doings the eflccts of in- 
 justice, rapine, lust, cruelty, or the like, sometimes he 
 shuts up as in frenetick or infectious diseases ; or con- 
 fines within doors, as in every sickly estate. Some- 
 times he shaves by penalty ormulct, or else to cool and 
 take down tliose luxuriant humours which wealth and 
 excess have caused to abound. Otherwhiles he sears, 
 he cauterizes, he scarifies, lets blood ; and finally, for 
 utmost remedy cuts off. The patients, which most an 
 end are brought into his hospital, are such as are far 
 gone, and beside themselves, (unless they be falsely 
 accused,) so that force is necessary to tame and quiet 
 them in their unruly fits, before they can be made 
 capable of a more humane cure. His general end is 
 the outward peace and welfare of the commonwealth, 
 and civil happiness in this life. His particular end in 
 every man is, by the infliction of pain, damage, and 
 disgrace, that the senses and common perceivance 
 might carry this message to the soul within, that it is 
 neither easeful, profitable, nor praiseworthy in this life 
 to do evil. Which must needs tend to the good of 
 man, whether he be to live or die ; and be undoubtedly 
 the fii-st means to a natural man, especially an offender, 
 which might open his eyes to a higher consideration of 
 good and evil, as it is taught in religion. This is seen 
 in the often penitence of those that suflTer, who, had 
 they escaped, had gone on sinning to an immeasurable 
 heap, which is one of the extremest punishments. 
 And this is all that the civil magistrate, as so being, 
 confei*s to the healing of man's mind, working only by 
 terrifying plasters upon the rind and orifice of the sore ; 
 and by all outward appliances, as the logicians say, a 
 posteriori, at the effect, and not from the cause ; not 
 once touching the inward bed of corruption, and that 
 hectic disposition to evil, the source of all vice and ob- 
 liquity against the rule of law. Which how insufficient 
 it is to cure the soul of man, we cannot better guess 
 than by the art of bodily physic. Therefore God, to 
 the intent of further healing man's depraved mind, to 
 this power of the magistrate, which contents itself with 
 the restraint of evil-doing in the external man, added 
 that which we call censure, to purge it and remove it 
 clean out of the inmost soul. In the beginning this 
 authority seems to havt been placed, as all both civil and 
 religious rites once were, only in each father of a 
 family; afterwards among the heathen, in the wise 
 men and philosophers of the age ; but so as it was a 
 thing voluntary, and no set government. More dis- 
 tinctly among the Jews, as being God's peculiar peo- 
 ple, where the priests, Levites, prophets, and at last the 
 scribes and Pharisees, took charge of instructing and 
 overseeing the lives of the people. But in the gospel, 
 which is the straightest and the dearest covenant can 
 be made between God and man, we being now hi 
 
Book II. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 49 
 
 adopted sons, and nothing- fitter for us to think on than 
 to be like him, united to him, and, as he pleases to 
 express it, to have fellowship with him ; it is all neces- 
 sity that we should expect this blessed efficacy of 
 healing" our inward man to be ministered to us in a 
 more familiar and effectual method than ever before. 
 God being now no more a judge after the sentence of 
 the law, nor, as it were, a schoolmaster of perishable 
 rites, but a most indulgent father, governing his church 
 as a family of sons in their discreet age: and therefore, 
 in the sweetest and mildest manner of paternal disci- 
 pline, he hath committed his other office of preserving 
 in healthful constitution the inner man, which may be 
 termed the spirit of the soul, to his spiritual deputy the 
 minister of each congregation ; who being best ac- 
 quainted with his own flock, hath best reason to know 
 all the secretest diseases likely to be there. And look 
 by how much the internal man is more excellent and 
 noble tJian the external, by so much is his cure more 
 exactly, and more thoroughly, and more particularly 
 to be performed. For which cause tiie Holy Ghost by 
 the apostles joined to the minister, as assistant in this 
 great office, sometimes a certain number of grave and 
 faithful brethren, (for neither doth the physician do all 
 in restoring his ))atient, he prescribes, another prepares 
 the medicine, some tend, some watch, some visit,) much 
 more may a minister partly not see all, partly err as 
 a man : besides, that nothing can be more for the mu- 
 tual honour and love of the people to their pastor, and 
 his to them, than when in select numbers and courses 
 they are seen partaking and doing reverence to the 
 holy duties of discipline by their serviceable and 
 solemn presence, and receiving lionour again from 
 their employment, not now any more to be separated 
 in the church by veils and partitions as laics and un- 
 clean, but admitted to wait upon the tabernacle as the 
 rightful clergy of Christ, a chosen generation, a royal 
 priesthood, to offer up spiritual sacrifice in that meet 
 place, to which God and the congregation shall call 
 and assign them. And this all Christians ought to 
 know, that the title of clergy St. Peter gave to all 
 God's people, till pope Higinus and the succeeding 
 prelates took it from them, appropriating that name to 
 themselves and their priests only ; and condemning the 
 rest of God's inheritance to an injurious and alienate 
 condition of laity, they separated from them by local 
 partitions in churches, through their gross ignorance 
 and pride imitating the old temple, and excluding the 
 members of Christ from the property of being members, 
 the bearing of orderly and fit offices in the ecclesiasti- 
 cal body ; as if they had meant to sew up that Jewish 
 veil, which Christ by his death on the cross rent in 
 sunder. Although these usurpers could not so pre- 
 sently overmaster the liberties and lawful titles of God's 
 freeborn church ; but that Origen, being yet a layman, 
 expounded the Scriptures publicly, and was therein 
 defended by Alexander of Jerusalem, and Theoctistus 
 of Cffisarea, producing in his behalf divers examples, 
 Uiat the privilege of teaching w as anciently permitted 
 tc many worthy laymen : and Cyprian in his epistles 
 professes he will do nothing without the advice and 
 
 assent of his assistant laics. Neither did the first 
 Nicene council, as great and learned as it was, think it 
 any robbery to receive in, and require the help and 
 presence of many learned lay -brethren, as they were 
 then called. Many other authorities to confirm this 
 assertion, both out of Scripture and the writings of next 
 antiquity, Golartius hath collected in his notes upon 
 Cyprian ; whereby it will be evident, that the laity, 
 not only by apostolic permission, but by consent of 
 many of the ancientcst prelates, did participate in 
 church-offices as much as is desired any lay-elder 
 should now do. Sometimes also not the elders alone, 
 but the whole body of the church is interested in the 
 work of discipline, as oft as public satisfaction is given 
 by those that have given public scandal. Not to speak 
 now of her right in elections. But another reason 
 there is in it, which though religion did not commend 
 to us, yet moral and civil prudence could not but e.x- 
 tol. It was thought of old in pliilosophy, that shame, 
 or to call it better, the reverence of our elders, our bre- 
 thren, and friends, was the greatest incitement to vir- 
 tuous deeds, and the greatest dissuasion from unworthy 
 attempts that might be. Hence we may read in the 
 Iliad, where Hector being wished to retire from the 
 battle, many of his forces being routed, makes answer, 
 that he durst not for shame, lest the Trojan knights 
 and dames should think he did ignobly. And certain 
 it is, tliat whereas terrour is thought such a great 
 stickler in a commonwealth, honourable shame is a far 
 greater, and has more reason : for where shame is, there 
 is fear; but where fear is, there is not presently shame. 
 .\nd if any thing may be done to inbreed in us this ge- 
 nerous and christianly reverence one of another, the 
 very nurse and guardian of piety and virtue, it cannot 
 sooner be than by such a discipline in the church, as 
 may use us to have in awe the assemblies of the faith- 
 ful, and to count it a thing most grievous, next to the 
 grieving of Gocl's Spirit, to offend those whom he hath 
 put in authority, as a healing superintendence over our 
 lives and behaviours, both to our own happiness, and 
 that we may not give offence to good men, who, with- 
 out amends by us made, dare not, against God's com- 
 mand, hold communion with us in holy things. And 
 this will be accompanied with a religious dread of be- 
 ing outcast from the company of saints, and from the 
 fatherly protection of God in his church, to consort 
 with the devil and his angels. But there is yet a more 
 ingenuous and noble degree of honest shame, or, call it, 
 if you will, an esteem, whereby men bear an inward 
 reverence toward their own persons. And if the love 
 of God, as a fire sent from heaven to be ever kept alive 
 upon the altars of our hearts, be the first principle of all 
 godly and virtuous actions in men, this pious and just 
 honouring of ourselves is the second, and may be 
 thought as the radical moisture and fountain-head, 
 whence every laudable and worthy enterprise issues 
 forth. And although I have given it the name of a 
 liquid thing, yet it is not incontinent to bound itself, as 
 humid things are, but hath in it a most restraining and 
 powerful abstinence to start back, and glob itself upward 
 from the mixture of any ungenerous and unbeseeming 
 
50 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book II. 
 
 motion, or any soil wherewith it may peril to stain it- 
 self. Sometljing' I confess it is to be ashamed of evil- 
 doing in the presence of any ; and to reverence the 
 opinion and the countenance of a good man rather than 
 a bad, fearing most in his sight to offend, goes so far 
 as almost to be virtuous ; yet this is but still the fear 
 of infamy, and many such, when they find themselves 
 alone, saving their reputation, will compound with 
 other scruples, and come to a close treaty with their 
 dearer vices in secret. But he that holds himself in 
 reverence and due esteem, both for the dignity of God's 
 image upon him, and for the price of his redemption, 
 which he thinks is visibly marked upon his forehead, 
 accounts himself both a fit person to do the noblest and 
 godliest deeds, and much better worth than to deject 
 and defile, with such a debasement, and such a pollu- 
 tion as sin is, himself so highly ransomed and ennobled 
 to a new friendship and filial relation with God. Nor 
 can he fear so much the offence and reproach of others, 
 as he dreads and would blush at the reflection of his 
 own severe and modest eye upon himself, if it should 
 see him doing or imagining that which is sinful, though 
 in the deepest secrecy. How shall a man know to do 
 himself this right, how to perform his honourable duty 
 of estimation and respect towards his own soul and 
 hotly ? which way will lead him best to this hill-top of 
 sanctity and goodness, above which there is no higher 
 ascent but to the love of God, which from this self-pious 
 regard cannot be asunder ? No better way doubtless, 
 than to let him duly understand, that as he is called 
 by the high calling of God, to be holy and pure, so is 
 he by the same appointment ordained, and by the 
 church's call admitted, to such offices of discipline in 
 the church, to which his own spiritual gifts, by the 
 example of apostolic institution, have authorized him. 
 For we have learned that the scornful term of laic, the 
 consecrating of temples, carpets, and table-cloths, the 
 railing in of a repugnant and coutradictive mount 
 Sinai in the gospel, as if the touch of a lay-christian, 
 who is nevertheless God's living temple, could prophane 
 dead Judaisms, the exclusion of Christ's people from 
 the offices of holy discipline through the pride of a 
 usurping clergy, causes the rest to have an unworthy 
 and abject opinion of themselves, to approach to holy 
 duties with a slavish fear, and to unholy doings with 
 a familiar boldness. For seeing such a wide and ter- 
 rible distance between religious things and themselves, 
 and that in respect of a wooden table, and the perimeter 
 of holy ground about it, a flaggon pot, and a linen 
 corporal, the priest esteems their layships unhallowed 
 and unclean, they fear religion with such a fear as 
 loves not, and think the purity of the gospel too pure 
 for them, and that any unclcanness is more suitable to 
 their unconsecrated estate. But when every good 
 Christian, thoroughly acquainted with all those glo- 
 rious privileges of sanctification and adoption, which 
 render him more sacred than any dedicated al- 
 tar or element, shall be restored to his right in the 
 church, and not excluded from such place of spiritual 
 government, as his christian abilities, and his approved 
 good life in the eye and testimony of the church shall 
 
 prefer him to, this and nothing sooner will open his 
 eyes to a wise and true valuation of himself, (which is 
 so requisite and higii a point of Christianity,) and will 
 stir him up to walk worthy the honourable and grave 
 employment wherewith God and the church liath dig- 
 nified him ; not fearing lest he should meet with some 
 outward holy thing in religion, which his lay-touch or 
 presence migiit profane ; but lest something unholy 
 from within his own heart should dishonour and profane 
 in himself that priestly unction and clergy -right whereto 
 Christ hath entitled him. Then would the congrega- 
 tion of the Lord soon recover the true likeness and 
 visage of what she is indeed, a holy generation, a royal 
 priesthood, a saintly communion, the household and 
 city of God. And this I hold to be another considera- 
 ble reason why the functions of church-goveniment 
 ought to be free and open to any christian man, though 
 never so laic, if his capacity, his faith, and ])rudeut 
 demeanour, commend him. And this the apostles 
 warrant us to do. But the prelates object, that this 
 will bring prophaueness into the church : to whom 
 may be replied, that none have brought that in more 
 than their own irreligious courses, nor more driven 
 holiness out of living into lifeless things. For whereas 
 God, who hath cleansed every beast and creeping worm, 
 would not suffer St. Peter to call them common or un- 
 clean, the prelate bishops, in their printed orders hung 
 up in churches, have proclaimed the best of creatures, 
 mankind, so unpurified and contagious, that for him 
 to lay his hat or his garment upon the chancel-table, 
 they have defined it no less heinous, in express words, 
 than to prophane the table of the Lord. And thus 
 have they by their Canaanitish doctrine, (for that 
 which was to the Jew but Jewish, is to the Christian 
 no better than Canaanitish,) thus have they made com- 
 mon and unclean, thus have they made prophane that 
 nature, which God hath not only cleansed, but Christ 
 also hath assumed. And now that the equity and just 
 reason is so perspicuous, why in ecclesiastic censure 
 the assistance should be added of such as whom not 
 the vile odour of gain and fees, (forbid it, God, and blow 
 it with a whirlwind out of our land !) but charity, 
 neighbourhood, and duty to church-government hath 
 called together, where could a wise man wish a more 
 equal, gratuitous, and meek examination of any offence, 
 that he might happen to commit against Christianitj', 
 than here ? Would he prefer those proud simoniacal 
 courts ? Thus therefore the minister assisted attends his 
 heavenly and spiritual cure : where we shall see him 
 botii in the course of his proceeding, and first in the 
 excellency of his end, from the magistrate far different, 
 and not more different than excelling. His end is to 
 recover all that is of man, both soul and body, to an 
 everlasting health ; and yet as for worldly happiness, 
 which is the proper sphere wherein the magistrate 
 cannot but confine his motion without a hideous ex^ 
 orbitancy from law, so little aims the minister, as his 
 intended scope, to procure the much prosperity of 
 this life, that ofttimes he may have cause to wish 
 much of it away, as a diet puffing up the soul 
 with a slimy fleshiness, and weakening her prin- 
 
 I 
 
Book II. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 51 
 
 cipal organic parts. Two heads of evil he has to 
 cope with, ignorance and malice. Against the former 
 he provides the daily manna of incorruptible doctrine, 
 not at those set meals only in public, but as oft as he 
 shall know that each infirmity or constitution requires. 
 Against the latter with all the branches thereof, not 
 meddling with that restraining and styptic surgery, 
 which the law uses, not indeed against the malady, but 
 against the eruptions, and outermost effects thereof; 
 he on the contrary, beginning at the prime causes and 
 roots of the disease, sends in those two divine ingre- 
 dients of most cleansing power to the soul, admonition 
 and reproof; besides which two there is no drug or 
 antidote that can reach to purge the mind, and without 
 which all other experiments are but vain, unless by 
 accident. And he that will not let these pass into him, 
 though he be the greatest king, as Plato affirms, must 
 be thought to remain impure within, and unknowing 
 of those things wherein his pureness and his knowledge 
 should most appear. As soon therefore as it may be 
 discerned that the christian patient, by feeding other- 
 where on meats not allowable, but of evil juice, hath 
 disordered his diet, and spread an ill humour through 
 his veins, immediately disposing to a sickness ; the 
 minister, as being much nearer both in eye and duty 
 than the magistrate, speeds him betimes to overtake 
 that diffused malignance with some gentle potion of 
 admonishment; or if aught be obstructed, puts in his 
 opening and discussive confections. This not succeed- 
 ing after once or twice, or oftener, in the presence of 
 two or three his faithful brethren appointed thereto, he 
 advises him to be more careful of his dearest health, 
 and what it is that he so rashly halh let down into the 
 divine vessel of his soul, God's temple. If this obtain 
 not, he then, with the counsel of more assistants, who 
 are informed of what diligence hath been already used, 
 with more s|)eedy remedies lays nearer siege to the 
 entrenched causes of his distemper, not sparing such 
 fervent and well aimed reproofs as may best give him 
 to see the dangerous estate wherein he is. To this also 
 his brethren and friends intreat, exhort, adjure; and 
 all these endeavours, as there is hope left, are more or 
 less repeated. But if neither the regard of himself, nor 
 the reverence of his elders and friends prevail with him 
 to leave his vicious appetite ; then as the time urges, 
 such engines of terrour God hath g^vcn into the hand 
 of his minister, as to search the tenderest angles of the 
 heart: one while he shakes his stubboniness with rack- 
 ing convulsions nigh despair, otherwhilcs witk deadly 
 corrosives he gripes the very roots of his faulty liver to 
 bring him to life through the entry of death. Hereto 
 the whole church beseech him, leg of him, deplore 
 him, pray for him. After all this performed with what 
 patience and attendance is possible, and no relenting 
 on his part, having done the utmost of their cure, in 
 the name of God and of the church they dissolve their 
 fellowship with him, and holding forth the dreadful 
 sponge of excommuuion, pronounce him wiped out of 
 the list of God's inheritance, and in the custody of 
 Satan till he repent. Which horrid sentence, though 
 it touch neither life nor limb, nor any worldly posses- 
 
 E 
 
 sion, yet has it such a penetrating force, that swifter 
 than any chymical sulphur, or that lightning which 
 harms not the skin, and rifles the entrails, it scorches 
 the inmost soul. Yet even this terrible denouncement 
 is left to the church for no other cause but to be as a 
 rough and vehement cleansing medicine, where the 
 malady is obdurate, a mortifying to life, a kind of 
 saving by undoing. And it may be truly said, that as 
 the mercies of wicked men are cruelties, so the cruel- 
 ties of the church are mercies. For if repentance sent 
 from Heaven meet this lost wanderer, and draw him 
 out of that steep journey wherein he was hasting to- 
 wards destruction, to come and reconcile to the church, 
 if he bring with him his bill of health, and that he is 
 now clear of infection, and of no danger to the other 
 sheep; then with incredible expressions of joy all his 
 brethren receive him, and set before him those perfumed 
 banquets of christian consolation ; with precious oint- 
 ments bathing and fomenting the old, and now to be 
 forgotten stripes, which terrour and shame had inflict- 
 ed ; and thus with heavenly solaces they cheer up his 
 humble remorse, till he regain his first health and 
 felicity. This is the approved way, which the gospel 
 prescribes, these are the " spiritual weapons of holy 
 censure, and ministerial warfare, not carnal, but mighty 
 through God to tlie pulling down of strong holds, cast- 
 ing down imaginations, and every high thing that ex- 
 alteth itself against the knowledge of God, and bring- 
 ing into captivity every thought to the obedience of 
 Christ." What could be done more for the healing 
 and reclaiming that divine particle of God's breathing, 
 the soul, and what could be done less .'* he that would 
 hide his faults from such a wholesome curing as tiiis, 
 and count it a twofold punishment, as sonic do, is like 
 a man, that having foul diseases about him, perishes 
 for shame, and the fear he has of a rigorous incision to 
 come upon his flesh. We shall be able by this time 
 to discern whether prelatical jurisdiction be contrary to 
 the gospel or no. First, therefore, the government of 
 the gospel being economical and paternal, that is, of 
 such a family where there be no servants, but all sons 
 in obedience, not in servility, as cannot be denied by 
 him that lives but within the sound of Scripture ; hovr 
 can the prelates justify to have turned the fatherly 
 orders of Christ's household, the blessed meekness of 
 his lowly roof, those ever-open and inviting doors of 
 his dwelling house, which delight to be frequented with 
 only filial accesses; how can they justify to have turned 
 these domestic privileges into the bar of a proud ju- 
 dicial court, where fees and clamours keep shop and 
 drive a trade, where bribery and corruption solicits, 
 paltering the free and moneyless power of discipline 
 with a carnal satisfaction by the purse ? Contrition, 
 humiliation, confession, the very sighs of a repentant 
 spirit, are there sold by the penny. That undeflowered 
 and unblemishable simplicity of the gospel, not she 
 herself, for that could never be, but a false-whited, a 
 lawny resemblance of her, like that airborn Helena in 
 the fables, made by the sorcery of prelates, instead of 
 calling her disciples from the receipt of custom, is now 
 turned publican herself; and gives up her body to a 
 
52 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT 
 
 Book IT. 
 
 mercenary whoredom under those fornicated arches, 
 which she calls God's house, and in the sii^ht of those 
 ber altars, which she hath set up to be adored, makes 
 merchandise of the bodies and souls of men. Rejecting' 
 pulsatory for no other reason, as it seems, than because 
 ber greediness cannot defer, but had rather use the ut- 
 most extortion of redeemed penances in this life. But 
 because these matters could not be thus carried witliout 
 a begg-ed and borrowed force from worldly authority, 
 therefore prelaty, slighting the deliberate and chosen 
 council of Christ in his spiritual government, whose 
 glory is in the weakness of fleshly things, to tread upon 
 the crest of the world's pride and violence by the power 
 of spiritual ordinances, hath on the contrary made these 
 ber friends and champions, which are Christ's enemies 
 in this his high design, smothering and extinguishing 
 the spiritual force of his bodily weakness in the dis- 
 cipline of his church with the boisterous and carnal 
 tyranny of an undue, unlawful, and ungospcl-like ju- 
 risdiction. And thus prelaty, both in her fleshly sup- 
 portments, in her carnal doctrine of ceremony and tra- 
 dition, in her violent and secular power, going quite 
 counter to the prime end of Christ's coming in the flesh, 
 that is, to reveal his truth, his glory, and his might, in 
 a clean contrary manner than prelaty seeks to do, 
 thwarting and defeating the great mystery of God ; I 
 do not conclude that prelaty is antichristian, for what 
 need I ? the things themselves conclude it. Yet if 
 such like practices, and not many worse than these of 
 our prelates, in that great darkness of the Roman 
 church, have not exempted both her and her present 
 members from being judged to be antichristian in all 
 orthodoxal esteem ; I cannot think but that it is the 
 absolute voice of truth and all her children to pro- 
 nounce this prelaty, and these her dark deeds in the 
 midst of tiiis great light wherein we live, to be more 
 antichristian than antichrist himself 
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 The mischief that prelaty does in the state. 
 
 I ADD one thing more to those great ones that are so 
 fond of prelaty : this is certain, that the gospel being 
 the hidden might of Christ, as hath been heard, that 
 ever a victorious power joined with it, like him in the 
 Revelation that went forth on the white horse with his 
 bow and his crown conquering and to conquer. If we 
 let the angel of the gospel ride on his own way, he 
 does his proper business, conquering the high thoughts, 
 and the proud reasonings of the flesh, and brings them 
 under to give obedience to Christ with the salvation of 
 many souls. But if ye turn him out of his road, and 
 in a manner force him to express his irresistible power 
 by a doctrine of carnal might, as prelaty is, he will 
 use that fleshly strength, which ye put into his hands, 
 to suImJuc 3'our spirits by a servile and blind supersti- 
 tion ; and that again shall hold such dominion over your 
 
 captive minds, as returning with an insatiate greedi- 
 ness and force upon your worldly wealth and power, 
 wherewith to deck and magnify herself, and her false 
 worships, he shall spoil and havoc your estates, disturb 
 j-our ease, diminish your honour, enthral your liberty 
 under the swelling mood of a proud clergy, who will 
 not serve or feed your souls with spiritual food ; look 
 not for it, they have not wherewithal, or if they had, it 
 is not in tlieir purpose. But when they have glutted 
 their ungrateful bodies, at least, if it be possible that 
 those open sepulchres should ever be glutted, and when 
 they have stufled their idolish temples with the waste- 
 ful pillage of your estates, will they yet have any com- 
 passion upon you, and that poor pittance which they 
 have left you ; will they be but so good to you as that 
 ravishcr was to his sister, when he had used her at his 
 pleasure ; will they but only hate ye, and so turn ye 
 loose ? No, they will not, lords and commons, they Avill 
 not favour ye so much. What will they do then, in the 
 name of God and saints, what will these manhaters yet 
 with more despite and mischief do? I will tell ye, or 
 at least remember ye, (for most of ye know it already,) 
 that they may want nothing to make them true mer- 
 chants of Babylon, as they have done to your souls, 
 they will sell your bodies, your wives, your children, 
 your liberties, your parliaments, all these things ; and 
 if there be ought else dearer than these, they will sell 
 at an outcry in their pulpits to the arbitrary and illegal 
 dispose of any one that may hereafter be called a king, 
 whose mind shall serve him to listen to their bargain. 
 And by their corrupt and servile doctrines boring our 
 ears to an everlasting slavery, as they have done hither- 
 to, so will they yet do their best to repeal and erase 
 every line and clause of both our great charters. Nor 
 is this only what they will do, but what they hold as 
 the main reason and mystery of their advancement that 
 they must do ; be the prince never so just and equal to 
 his subjects, yet such are their malicious and de|)raved 
 eyes, that they so look on him, and so understand him, 
 as if he required no other gratitude or piece of service 
 from them than this. And indeed they stand so oppor- 
 tunely for the disturbing or the destroying of a state, 
 being a knot of creatures, whose dignities, means, and 
 preferments have no foundation in the gospel, as they 
 themselves acknowledge, but only in the prince's fa- 
 vour, and to continue so long to them, as by pleasing 
 him they shall deserve : whence it must needs be they 
 should bend all their intentions and services to no other 1 
 ends but to his, that if it should happen that a tyrant 
 (God turn such a scourge from ns to our enemies) 
 should come to grasp the sceptre, here were his spear- 
 men and his lances, here were his firelocks ready, he 
 should need no other pretorian band nor pensionary 
 than these, if they could once with their perfidious 
 preachments awe the people. For although the pre- 
 lates in time of popery were sometimes friendly enough 
 to Magna Cliarta, it was because they stood upon their 
 own bottom, without their main depcndance on tlie 
 royal nod : but now being well acquainted that the 
 protestant religion, if she will reform herself rightly 
 by the Scriptures, must undress them of all their gildod 
 
Book II. 
 
 URGED AGAINST PRELATY. 
 
 53 
 
 vanities, and reduce them as tliey were at first, to 
 the lowly and equal order of presbyters, they know it 
 concerns them nearly to study the times more than the 
 text, and to lift up their eyes to the hills of the court, 
 from whence only comes their help ; but if their pride 
 grow weary of this crouching and observance, as ere 
 long it would, and that yet their minds climb still to a 
 higher ascent of worldly honour, this only refuge can 
 remain to them, that they must of necessity contrive to 
 bring themselves and us back again to the pope's su- 
 premacy ; and this we see they had by fair degrees of 
 late been doing. These be the two fair supportci-s be- 
 tween which the strength of prclaty is borne up, either 
 of inducing tyranny, or of reducing popery. Hence 
 also we may judge that prelaty is mere falsehood. For 
 the property of truth is, where she is publicly taught 
 to unyoke and set free the minds and spirits of a nation 
 first from the thraldom of sin and superstition, after 
 which all honest and legal freedom of civil life cannot 
 be long absent ; but prelaty, whom the tyrant custom 
 begot, a natural t^Tant in religion, and in state the 
 agent and minister of tyranny, seems to have had this 
 fatal gift in her nativity, like another Midas, that what- 
 soever she should touch or come near cither in ecclesial 
 or political government, it should turn, not to gold, 
 though she for her part could wish it, but to the dross 
 and scum of slavery, breeding and settling both in the 
 bodies and the souls of all such as do not in time, with 
 the sovereign treacle of sound doctrine, provide to for- 
 tify their hearts against her hierarchy. The service of 
 God who is truth, her liturgy confesses to be perfect 
 freedom ; but her works and her opinions declare, that 
 the service of prelaty is perfect slavery, and by conse- 
 quence perfect falsehoo<]. Which makes me wonder 
 much that many of the gentry, studious men as I hear, 
 should engage themselves to write and speak publicly 
 in her defence ; but that I believe their honest and in- 
 genuous natures coming to the universities to store 
 themselves with good and solid learning, and there un- 
 fortunately fed with nothing else but the scragged and 
 thorny lectures of monkish and miserable sophistry, 
 were sent home again with such a scholastical bur in 
 their throats, as hath stopped and hindered all true and 
 generous philosophy from entering, cracked their voices 
 for ever with metaphysical gargarisms, and hath made 
 them admire a sort of formal outside men prelatically 
 addicted, whose unchasfened and unwrought minds 
 were never yet initiated or subdued under the true lore 
 of religion or moral virtue, which two are the best and 
 greatest points of learning; but either slightly trained 
 up in a kind of hypocritical and hackney course of 
 literature to get their living by, and dazzle the ignor- 
 ant, or else fondly over-studied in useless controversies, 
 except those which they use with all the specious and 
 delusive subtlety they are able, to defend their prelati- 
 cal Sparta ; having a gospel and church-government 
 set before their eyes, as a fair field wherein they might 
 exercise the greatest virtues and the greatest deeds of 
 christian authority, in mean fortunes and little furni- 
 ture of this world ; (which even the sage heathen 
 writers, and those old Fabritii and Curii well knew to 
 
 be a manner of working, than which nothing could 
 liken a mortal man more to God, who delights most to 
 work from within himself, and not by the heavy lug- 
 gage of corporeal instruments ;) they understand it not, 
 and think no such matter, but admire and dote upon 
 worldly riches and honours, with an easy and intem- 
 perate life, to the bane of Christianity : yea, they and 
 their seminaries shame not to profess, to petition, and 
 never leave pealing our ears, that unless we fat them like 
 boars, and cram them as they list with wealth, with dean- 
 eries and pluralities, with baronies and stately prefer- 
 ments, all learning and religion will go underfoot. Which 
 issuch a shameless, such a bestial plea, and of that odious 
 impudence in churchmen, who should be to us a pattern 
 of temperance and frugal mediocrity, who should teach 
 us to contemn this world and the gaudy things thereof, 
 according to the promise which they themselves require 
 from us in baptism, that should the Scripture stand by 
 and be mute, there is not that sect of philosophers among 
 the heathen so dissolute, no not Epicurus, nor Aristippus 
 with all his Cyrenaic rout, but would shut his school- 
 doors against such greasy sopbisters ; not any college 
 of mountebanks, but would think scorn to discover in 
 themselves with such a brazen forehead the outrageous 
 desire of filthy lucre. Which the prelates make so 
 little conscience of, that they are ready to fight, and 
 if it lay in their power, to massacre all good Christians 
 under the names of horrible schismatics, for only find- 
 ing fault with their temporal dignities, their uncon- 
 scionable wealth and revenues, their cruel authority 
 over their brethren that labour in tlie word, while they 
 snore in their luxurious excess : openly proclaiming 
 themselves now in the sight of all men, to be those 
 which for awhile they sought to cover under sheep's 
 clothing, ravenous and savage wolves, threatening in- 
 roads and bloody incursions upon the 6ock of Christ, 
 which they took upon them to feed, but now claim to 
 devour as their prey. More like that huge dragon of 
 Egypt, breathing out waste and desolation to the land, 
 unless he were daily fattened with virgin's blood. 
 Him our old patron St. George, by his matchless valour 
 slew, as the prelate of the garter that reads his collect 
 can tell. And if our princes and knights will imitate 
 the fame of that old cliampion, as by their order of 
 knighthood solemnly taken they vow, far be it that 
 they should uphold and side with this English dragon; 
 but rather to do as indeed their oaths bind them, they 
 should make it their knightly adventure to pureue and 
 vanquish this mighty sail-winged monster, that menaces 
 to swallow up the land, unless her bottomless gorge may 
 be satisfied with the blood of the king's daughter the 
 church ; and may, as she was wont, fill her dark and 
 infamous den with the bones of the saints. Nor will 
 any one have reason to think this as too incredible or too 
 tragical to be spoken of prelaty, if he consider well 
 from what a mass of slime and mud the slothful, the 
 covetous, and ambitious hopes of chnrch-promotions and 
 fat bishoprics, she is bred up and nuzzled in, like a 
 great Python, from her youth, to prove the general poi- 
 son both of doctrine and good discipline in the land. 
 For certainly such hopes and such principles of earth 
 
54 
 
 THE REASON OF CHURCH-GOVERNMENT, &c. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 as these wherein she welters from a youug one, are 
 the immediate generation both of a slavish and tyran- 
 nous life to follow, and a pestiferous contagion to the 
 whole kingdom, till like that fen-bom serpent she be 
 shot to death with the darts of the sun, the pure and 
 powerful beams of God's word. And this may serve 
 to describe to us in part, what prelaty hath been, and 
 what, if she stand, she is like to be towards the whole 
 body of people in England. Now that it may appear 
 how she is not such a kind of evil, as hath any good or 
 use in it, which many evils have, but a distilled quint- 
 essence, a pure elixir of mischief, pestilent alike to all; 
 J shall shew briefly, ere I conclude, that the prelates, 
 as they are to the subjects a calamity, so are they the 
 greatest underminers and betrayers of the monarch, to 
 whom they seem to be most favourable. I cannot bet- 
 ter liken the state and person of a king than to that 
 mighty Nazarite Samson ; who being disciplined from 
 his birth in the precepts and the practice of temperance 
 and sobriety, without the strong drink of injurious and 
 excessive desires, grows up to a noble strength and 
 perfection with those his illustrious and sunny locks, 
 the laws, waving and curling about his godlike shoul- 
 ders. And while he keeps them about him undiminished 
 and unshorn, he may with the jawbone of an ass, that 
 is, with the word of his meanest officer, suppress and 
 put to confusion thousands of those that rise against 
 his just power. But laying down his head among the 
 strumpet flatteries of prelates, while he sleeps and thinks 
 no hai-m, they wickedly shaving off all those bright 
 and weighty tresses of his laws, and just prerogatives, 
 which were his ornament and strength, deliver him 
 over to indirect and violent counsels, which, as those 
 Philistines, put out the fair and far-sighted eyes of his 
 natural discerning, and make him grind in the prison- 
 house of their sinister ends and practices upon him : till 
 he, knowing this prelatical rasor to have bereft him of 
 his wonted might, nourish again his puissant hair, the 
 golden beams of law and right : and they sternly shook, 
 thunder with ruin upon the heads of those his evil 
 counsellors, but not without great affliction to himself. 
 This is the sum of their loyal service to kings ; yet 
 these are the men that still cry, The king, the king, the 
 Lord's anointed. We grant it, and wonder how they 
 came to light upon any thing so true ; and wonder 
 more, if kings be the Lord's anointed, how they dare 
 thus oil over and besmear so holy an unction with the 
 corrupt and putrid ointment of their base flatteries ; 
 which, while they smooth the skin, strike inward and 
 envenom the lifeblood. What fidelity kings can ex- 
 pect from prelates, both examples past, and our present 
 experience of their doings at this day, whereon is 
 grounded all that hath been said, may suffice to inform 
 us. And if they be such clippers of regal power, and 
 shavers of the laws, how they stand affected to the law- 
 
 giving parliament, yourselves, worthy peers and com- 
 mons, can best testify ; the current of whose glorious 
 and immorlal actions hath been only opposed by the 
 obscure and pernicious designs of the prelates, until 
 their insolence broke out to such a bold affront, as hath 
 justly immured their haughty looks within strong walls. 
 Nor have they done any thing of late with more dili- 
 gence, than to hinder or break the happy assembling 
 of parliaments, however needful to repair the shattered 
 and disjointed frame of the commonwealth ; or if they 
 cannot do this, to cross, to disenable, and traduce all 
 parliamentary proceedings. And this, if nothing else, 
 plainly accuses them to be no lawful members of the 
 house, if they thus perpetually mutiny against their 
 own body. And though they pretend, like Solomon's 
 harlot, that they have right thereto, by the same judg- 
 ment that Solomon gave, it cannot belong to them, 
 whenas it is not only their assent, but their endeavour 
 continually to divide parliaments in twain ; and not 
 only by dividing, but by all other means to abolish and 
 destroy the free use of them to all posterity. For the 
 which, and for all their former misdeeds, whereof this 
 book and many volumes more cannot contain the 
 moiety, I shall move ye, lords, in the behalf I dare say 
 of many thousand good Christians, to let your justice 
 and speedy sentence pass against this great malefactor 
 prelaty. And yet in the midst of rigour I would be- 
 seech ye to think of mercy ; and such a mercy, (I fear 
 I shall overshoot with a desire to save this falling pre- 
 laty,) such a mercy (if I may venture to say it) as may 
 exceed that which for only ten righteous persons would 
 have saved Sodom. Not that I dare advise ye to con- 
 tend with God, whether he or you shall be more mer- 
 ciful, but in your wise esteems to balance the offences 
 of those peccant cities with these enormous riots of un- 
 godly misrule, that prelaty hath wrought both in the 
 church of Christ, and in the state of this kingdom. 
 And if ye think ye may with a pious presumption strive 
 to go beyond God in mercy, I shall not be one now 
 that would dissuade ye. Though God for less than ten 
 just persons would not spare Sodom, yet if you can 
 find, after due search, but only one good thing in pre- J 
 laty, either to religion or civil government, to king or 1 
 parliament, to prince or people, to law, liberty, wealth, 
 or learning, spare her, let her live, let her spread among 
 ye, till with her shadow all your dignities and honours, 
 and all the glory of the land be darkened and obscured. 
 But on the contrary, if she be found to be malignant, 
 hostile, destructive to all these, as nothing can be surer, 
 then let your severe and impartial doom imitate the 
 divine vengeance; rain down your punishing force 
 upon this godless and oppressing government, and bring 
 such a dead sea of subversion upon her, that she may 
 never in this land rise more to afflict the holy reformed 
 church, and the elect people of God. , 
 
 1 
 
ANIMADVERSIONS 
 
 UPON 
 
 THE REMONSTRANT'S DEFENCE AGAINST SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 [nasi rUBUiBiD 1641.] 
 
 THE PREFACE. 
 
 Although it be a certain truth, that they who undertake a religious cause need not care to be men-pleasers ; 
 yet because the satisfaction of tender and mild consciences is far different from that which is called men-pleasing' ; 
 to satisfy such, I shall address myself in few words to give notice beforehand of something in this book, which 
 to some men perhaps may seem offensive, that when I have rendered a lawful reason of what is done, I may 
 trust to have saved the labour of defending or excusing hereafter. We all know that in private or personal in- 
 juries, yea in public sufferings for the cause of Christ, his rule and example teaches us to be so far from a readi- 
 ness to speak evil, as not to answer the rcviler in his language, though never so much provoked : yet in the 
 detecting and convincing of any notorious enemy to truth and his country's peace, especially that is conceited 
 to have a voluble and smart fluence of tongue, and in the vain confidence of that, and out of a more tenacious 
 cling to worldly rcsjjects, stands up for all the rest to justify a long usurpation and convicted pseudepiscopy of 
 prelates, with all their ceremonies, liturgies, and tyrannies, which God and man are now ready to explode and 
 hiss out of the land ; I suppose, and more than suppose, it will be nothing disagpreeing from christian meekness 
 to handle such a one in a rougher accent, and to send home his haughtiness well bespurted with his own holy- 
 water. Nor to do thus are we unautoritied either from the moral precept of Solomon, to answer him thereafter 
 that prides him in his folly ; nor from the example of Christ, and all his followers in all ages, who, in the refut- 
 ing of those that resisted sound doctrine, and by subtile dissimulations corrupted the minds of men, have wrought 
 up their zealous souls into such vchemeucies, as nothing could be more killingly spoken : for who can be a 
 greater enemy to mankind, who a more dangerous deceiver, than he who, defending a traditional corruption, 
 uses no common arts, but with a wily stratagem of yielding to the time a greater part of his cause, seeming to 
 forego all that man's invention hath done therein, and driven from much of his hold in Scripture; yet leavijig it 
 hanging by a twined thread, not from divine command, but from apostolical prudence or assent ; as if he had 
 the surety of some rolling trench, creeps up by this mean to his relinquished fortress of divine authority again, 
 and still hovering between the confines of that which he dares not be openly, and that which he will not be 
 sincerely, trains on the easy Christian insensibly within the close ambushment of worst errours, and with a sly 
 shuffle of counterfeit principles, chopping and changing till he have gleaned all tlie good ones out of their 
 minds, leaves them at last, after a slight resemblance of sweeping and garnishing, under the seven-fold possession 
 of a desperate stupidity ? And therefore they that love the souls of men, which is the dearest love, and stirs 
 up the noblest jealousy, when they meet with such collusion, cannot be blamed though they be transported 
 with the zeal of truth to a well-heated fervency ; especially, seeing they which thus offend against the souls 
 of their brethren, do it with delight to their great gain, ease, and advancement in this world ; but they that seek 
 to discover and oppose their false trade of deceiving, do it not without a sad and unwilling anger, not without 
 many hazards; but without all private and pereonal spleen, and without any thought of earthly reward, when- 
 as this very course they take stops their hopes of ascending above a lowly and unenviable pitch in this life. 
 And although in the serious uncasing of a grand imposture, (for to deal plainly with you, readers, prelaty is no 
 better,) there be mixed here and there such a grim laughter, as may appear at the same time in an austere visage, 
 it cannot be taxed of levity or insolence : for even this vein of laughing (as T could produce out of grave authors) 
 hath ofttimes a strong and sinewy force in teaching and confuting; nor can there be a more proper object of 
 indignation and scorn together, than a false prophet taken in the greatest, dearest, and most dangerous cheat, 
 the cheat of souls: in the disclosing whereof, if it be harmful to be angry, and withal to cast a lowering smile, 
 when the properest object calls for both, it will be long enough ere any be able to say, why those two most ra- 
 tional faculties of human intellect, auger and laughter, were first seated in the breast of man. Thus much. 
 
56 
 
 ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE 
 
 readers, in favour of the softer spirited Christian, for other exceptioners there was no thought taken. Only if it be 
 asked, why this close and succinct manner of copinjf with the adversary was rather chosen, this was the reason 
 chiefly, that the ingenuous reader, without further amusing himself in the labyrinth of controversial antiquity, 
 may come to the speediest way to see the truth vindicated, and sophistry taken short at the first false bound. 
 Next, that the Remonstrant himself, as oft as he pleases to be frolic, and brave it with others, may find no gain 
 of money, and may learn not to insult in so bad a cause. But now he begins. 
 
 SECT. I. 
 
 Remonstrant. My single remonstrance is encoun- 
 tered with a plural adversary. • 
 
 Answer. Did not your single remonstrance bring 
 along with it a hot scent of your more than singular 
 affection to spiritual pluralities, your singleness would 
 be less suspected with all good Christians than it is. 
 
 Remonst. Their names, persons, qualities, numbers, 
 I care not to know. 
 
 Answ. Their names are known to the all-knowing 
 Power above ; and in the mean while, doubtless, they 
 reck not whether you or your nomenclator know them 
 or not. 
 
 Remonst. But could they say my name is Legion, 
 for we are many ? 
 
 Answ. Wherefore should ye begin with the devil's 
 name, descanting upon the number of your opponents? 
 Whei-efore that conceit of Legion with a by -wipe ? Was 
 it because you would have men take notice how you 
 esteem them, whom through all your book so bounti- 
 fully you call your brethren ? We had not thought that 
 Legion could have furnished the Remonstrant with so 
 many brethren. 
 
 Remonst. My cause, ye gods, would bid me meet 
 them undismayed, &c. 
 
 Answ. Ere a foot further we must be content to 
 hear a preambling boast of your valour, what a St. 
 Dunstan you are to encounter Legions, either infernal 
 or human. 
 
 Remonst. My cause, ye gods. 
 
 Answ. What gods ? Unless your belly, or the god of 
 this world be he ? Shew us any one point of your re- 
 monstrance that does not more concern superiority, 
 pride, ease, and the belly, than the truth and glory of 
 God, or the salvation of souls. 
 
 Remonst. My cause, ye gods, would bid me meet 
 them undismayed, and to say with holy David, " though 
 a host, &c." 
 
 Answ. Do not think to persuade us of your undaunt- 
 ed courage, by misapplying to yourself the words of 
 holy David ; we know you fear, and are in an agony 
 at this present, lest you should lose that superfluity of 
 riches and honour, which your party usurp. And who- 
 soever covets, and so earnestly labours to keep such an 
 incumbering surcharge of earthly things, cannot but 
 have an earthquake still in his bones. You are not 
 armed. Remonstrant, nor any of your band ; you are 
 not diete<l, nor your loins girt for spiritual valour, 
 
 and christian warfare, the luggage is too great that 
 follows your camp ; your hearts are there, you march 
 heavily : how shall we think you have not carnal fear, 
 while we see you so subject to carnal desires ? 
 
 Remonst. I do gladly fly to the bar. 
 
 Answ. To the bar with him then. Gladly you say. 
 We believe you as gladly as your whole faction wished 
 and longed for the assembling of this parliament, as 
 gladly as your beneficiaries the priests came up to an- 
 swer the complaints and outcries of all the shires. 
 
 Remonst. The Areopagi ! who were those ? Truly, 
 my masters, I had thought this had been the name of 
 the place, not of the men. 
 
 Answ. A soar-eagle would not stoop at a fly ; but 
 sure some pedagogue stood at your elbow, and made it 
 itch with this parlous criticism ; they urged you with 
 a decree of the sage and severe judges of Athens, and 
 you cite them to appear for certain paragogical con- 
 tempts, before a capacious pedanty of hot-livered 
 grammarians. Mistake not the matter, courteous Re- 
 monstrant, they were not making Latin : if in dealing 
 with an outlandish name, they thought it best not to 
 screw the English mouth to a hai-sh foreign termina- 
 tion, so they kept the .radical word, they did no more 
 than the elegantest authors among the Greeks, Ro- 
 mans, and at this day the Italians, in scorn of such a 
 servility use to do. Remember how they mangle our 
 British names abroad ; what trespass were it, if we in 
 requital should as much neglect theii-s .'' And our learn- 
 ed Chaucer did not stick to do so, writing Semyramis 
 for Semiramis, Amphiorax for Amphiaraus, K. Sejes 
 for K. Ceyx the husband of Alcyone, with many other 
 names strangely metamorphosed from the true orthog- 
 raphy, if he had .made any account of that in these 
 kind of words. 
 
 Remonst. Lest the world should think the press 
 had of late forgot to speak any language other than 
 libellous, this honest paper hath broken through the 
 throng. 
 
 Answ. Mince the matter while you will, it shewed 
 but green practice in the laws of discreet rhetoric to 
 blurt upon the ears of a judicious parliament with such 
 a presumptuous and overweening proem : but ^-ou do 
 well to be the fewer of your own mess. 
 
 Remonst. That which you miscall the preface, was 
 a too just complaint of the shameful number of libels. 
 
 Answ. How long is it that you and the prclatical 
 
REMONSTRANT'S DEFENCE, &c. 
 
 67 
 
 troop have been in such distaste with libels ? Ask your 
 Lysimachus Nicanor what defamin};- invectives have 
 lately flown abroad agfainst the subjects of Scotland, 
 and our poor expulsed brethren of New England, the 
 prelates rather applauding than shewing any dislike : 
 and this hath been ever so, insomuch that Sir Francis 
 Bacon in one of his discourses complains of the bishops' 
 uneven hand over these pamphlets, confining those 
 against bishops to darkness, but licensing those against 
 puritans to be uttered openly, though with the greater 
 mischief of leading into contempt the exercise of re- 
 ligion in the persons of sundry preachers, and dis- 
 gracing the higher matter in the meaner person. 
 
 Remonst. A point no less essential to that proposed 
 remonstrance. 
 
 Answ. We know where the shoe wringps you, you 
 fret and are galled at the quick ; and O what a death 
 it is to the prelates to be thus unvisarded, thus uncased, 
 to have the periwigs plucked off that cover your bald- 
 ness, your inside nakedness thrown open to public view ! 
 The Romans had a time once every year, when their 
 slaves might freely speak their minds ; it were hard if 
 the freeborn people of England, with whom the voice 
 of truth for these many years, even against the proverb, 
 hath not been heard but in comers, after all your 
 monkish prohibitions, and expurgatorious indexes, your 
 gags and snaffles, your proud Imprimaturs not to be 
 obtained without the shallow surview, but not shallow 
 hand of some mercenary, narrow-souled, and illiterate 
 chaplain ; when liberty of speaking, than which nothing 
 is more sweet to man, was girded and strait-laced 
 almost to a broken-winded phthisic, if now at a good 
 time, our time of parliament, the .cry jubilee and re- 
 surrection of the state, if now the concealed, the ag- 
 grieved, and long persecuted truth, could not be suffered 
 to speak ; and though she burst out with some efficacy 
 of words, could not be excused after such an injurious 
 strangle of silence, nor avoid the censure of libelling, 
 it were hard, it were something pinching in a kingdom 
 of free spirits. Some princes, and great statists, have 
 thought it a prime piece of necessary policy, to thrust 
 themselves under disguise into a popular throng, to 
 stand the night long under eaves of bouses, and low 
 •windows, that they might hear every where the utter- 
 ances of private breasts, and amongst them find out the 
 precious gem of truth, as amongst the numberless peb- 
 bles of the sliore ; wherebj' they might be the abler to 
 discover, and avoid, that deceitful and close-couched 
 evil of flattery that ever attends them, and misleads 
 them, and niiglit skilfully know how to apply the 
 several redresses to each malady of state, without trust- 
 ing the disloyal information of parasites and sycophants : 
 whereas now this permission of free writing, were there 
 no good else in it, yet at some times thus licensed, is 
 such an unripping, such an anatomy of the shyest and 
 tenderest particular truths, as makes not only the whole 
 uation in many points the wiser, but also presents and 
 carries home to princes, men most remote from vulgar 
 concourse, such a full insight of every lurking evil, or 
 restrained good among the commons, as that they shall 
 not need hereafter, in old cloaks and false beards, to 
 
 stand to the courtesy of a night-walking cudgeller for 
 eaves-dropping, nor to accept quietly as a perfume, the 
 overhead emptying of some salt lotion. Who could be 
 angry, therefore, but those that are guilty, with these 
 free-spoken and plain-hearted men, that are the eyes of 
 their country, and the prospective-glasses of their 
 prince ? But these are the nettlers, these are the blab- 
 bing books that tell, though not half your fellows' feats. 
 You love toothless satires ; let me inform you, a tooth- 
 less satire is as improper as a toothed sleek-stone, and 
 as bullish. 
 
 Remonst. I beseech you, brethren, spend your logic 
 upon your own works. 
 
 Answ. The peremptory analysis that you call it, I 
 believe will be so hardy as once more to unpin your 
 spruce fastidious oratory, to rumple her laces, her friz- 
 zles, and her bobbins, though she wince and fling never 
 so peevishly. 
 
 Remonst. Those verbal exceptions are but light froth, 
 and will sink alone. 
 
 Answ. O rare subtlety, beyond all that Cardan ever 
 dreamed of! when, I beseech you, will light things 
 sink ? when will light froth sink alone ? Here in your 
 phrase, the same day that heavy plummets will swim 
 alone. Trust this man, readers, if you please, whose 
 divinity would reconcile England with Rome, and his 
 philosophy make friends nature with the chaos, sine 
 pondere habentia pond us. 
 
 Remonst. That scum may be worth taking off which 
 follows. 
 
 Answ. Spare your ladle, sir, it will be as the bishop's 
 foot in the broth ; the scum will be found upon your 
 own remonstrance. 
 
 Remonst. I shall desire all indifferent eyes to judge, 
 whether these men do not endeavour to cast unjust envy 
 upon me. 
 
 Answ. Agreed. 
 
 Remonst. I had said that the civil polity, as in gene- 
 ral notion, hath sometimes varied, and that the civil 
 came from arbitrary imposers; these gracious interpret- 
 ers would needs draw my words to the present and 
 particular government of our monarchy. 
 
 Answ. And deservedly have they done so ; take up 
 your logic else and see : civil polity, say you, hath 
 sometimes varied, and came from arbitrary imposers ; 
 what proposition is this .'* Bishop Downam in his dia- 
 lectics will tell you it is a general axiom, though the 
 universal particle be not expressed, and you yourself 
 in your defence so explain in these words as in general 
 notion. Hence is justly inferred, he that says civil 
 polity is arbitrary, says that the civil polity of England 
 is arbitrary. The inference is undeniable, a thesi ad 
 hypothesin, or from the general to the particular, an 
 evincing argument in logic. 
 
 Remonst. Brethren, whiles ye desire to seem godly, 
 learn to be less malicious. 
 
 Answ. Remonstrant, till you have better learnt your 
 principles of logic, take not upon you to be a doctor to 
 others. 
 
 Remonst. God bless all good men from such charity. 
 Answ, I never found that logical maxims were uu- 
 
58 
 
 ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE 
 
 charitable before; yd should a jury of logicians pass 
 upon you, you would never be saved by the book. 
 
 Remonst. And our sacred monarchy from such 
 friends. 
 
 Answ. Add, as the prelates. 
 
 Remonst. If episcopacy have yoked monarchy, it is 
 the insolence of the persons, not the fault of the calling^. 
 
 Answ. It was the fault of the persons, and of no 
 calling: we do not count prelaty a calling. 
 
 Remonst. The testimony of a pope (whom these men 
 honour highly). 
 
 Answ. That slanderous insertion was doubtless a 
 pang of your incredible charity, the want whereof you 
 lay so often to their chaise ; a kind token of your fa- 
 vour lapped up in a parenthesis, a piece of the clergy 
 benevolence laid by to maintain the episcopal broil, 
 whetlier the 1000 horse or no, time will discover: for 
 certainly had those cavaliers come on to play their 
 parts, such a ticket as this of highly honouring the pope, 
 from the hand of a prelate, might have been of special 
 use and safety to them that had cared for such a ransom. 
 
 Remonst. And what says Antichrist? 
 
 Answ. Ask your brethren the prelates, that hold in- 
 telligence with him, ask not us. But is the pope Anti- 
 christ now ? Good news ! take heed you be not sheut 
 for this ; for it is verily thought, that had this bill been 
 put in against him in your last convocation, he would 
 have been cleared by most voices. 
 
 Remonst. Any thing serves against episcopacy. 
 
 Answ. See the frowardness of this man, he would 
 persuade us, that the succession and divine right of 
 bishopdom hath been unquestionable through all ages j 
 yet when they bring against him kings, they were irre- 
 ligious; popes, they arc antichrist. By what era of 
 computation, through what fairy land, would the man 
 deduce this perpetual beadroU of uncontradicted epis- 
 copacy .'* The pope may as well boast his ungainsaid 
 authority to them that will believe, that all his contra- 
 dicters were either irreligious or heretical. 
 
 Remonst. If the bishops, saith the pope, be declared 
 to be of divine right, they would be exempted from 
 regal power ; and if there might be this danger in those 
 kingdoms, why is this enviously upbraided to those of 
 ours ? who do gladly profess, &c. 
 
 Answ. Because your dissevered principles were but 
 like the mangled pieces of a gashed serpent, that now 
 begun to close, and grow together popish again. What- 
 soever you now gladly profess out of fear, we know 
 what your drifts were when you thought yourselves 
 secure. 
 
 Remonst. It is a foul slander to charge the name of 
 episcopacy with a faction, for the fact imputed to some 
 few. 
 
 Answ. The more foul your faction that hath brought 
 a harmless name into obloquy, and the fact may justly 
 be imputed to all of ye that ought to have withstood it, 
 and did not. 
 
 Remonst. Fie, brethren I are ye the presbyters of the 
 church of England, and dare challenge episcopacy of 
 faction ? 
 
 Adsw. Yes, as oft as episcopacy dares be factious. 
 
 Remonst. Had you spoken such a word in the time 
 of holy Cyprian, what had become of you ? 
 
 Answ. They had neither been haled into your Ge- 
 henna at Lambeth, nor strapadoed with an oath ex 
 oliicio by your bowmen of the arches : and as for Cy- 
 prian's time the cause was far unlike, he indeed suc- 
 ceeded into an episcopacy that began then to prelatize; 
 but his personal excellence like an antidote overcame 
 the malignity of that breeding corruption, which was 
 then a disease that lay hid for a while under shew of a 
 full and healthy constitution, as those hydropic hu- 
 mours not discernible at first from a fair and juicy 
 fleshiness of body, or that unwonted ruddy colour, 
 which seems graceful to a cheek otherwise pale ; and 
 yet arises from evil causes, either of some inward ob- 
 struction or inflammation, and might deceive the first 
 physicians till they had leanied the sequel, which Cy- 
 prian's days did not bring forth ; and the prelatism of 
 episcopacy, which began then to burgeon and spread, 
 had as yet, especially in famous men, a fair, though a 
 false imitation of flourishing. 
 
 Remonst. Neither is the wrong less to make appli- 
 cation of that which was most justly chafged upon the 
 practices and combinations of libelling separatists, 
 whom I deservedly censured, &c. 
 
 Answ. To conclude this section, our Remonstrant we 
 see is resolved to make good that which was formerly 
 said of his book, that it was neither humble nor a re- 
 monstrance, and this his defence is of the same com- 
 plexion. When he is constrained to mention the noto- 
 rious violence of his clergy attempted on the church of 
 Scotland, he slightly terms it a fact imputed to some 
 few ; but when he speaks of that which the parliament 
 vouchsafes to name the city petition, " which I," saith 
 he, (as if tlie state had made him public censor,) " deserv- 
 edly censured." And how ? As before for a tumultuary 
 and underhand way of procured subscriptions, so now 
 in his defence more bitterly, as the practices and com- 
 binations of libelling separatists, and the miszealous 
 advocates thereof, justly to be branded for incendiaries. 
 Whether this be for the honour of our chief city to be 
 noted with such an infamy for a petition, which not 
 without some of the magistrates, and great numbers of 
 sober and considerable men, was orderly and meekly 
 presented, although our great clerks think that these 
 men, because they have a trade, (as Christ himself and 
 St. Paul had,) cannot therefore attain to some good 
 measure of knowledge, and to a reason of their actions, 
 as well as they that spend their youth in loitering, bez- 
 zling, and harlotting, their studies in unprofitable ques- 
 tions and barbarous sophistry, their middle age in am- 
 bition and idleness, their old age in avarice, dotage, 
 and diseases. And whether this reflect not with a con- 
 tumely upon the parliament itself, which thought this 
 petition worthy, not only of receiving, but of voting to 
 a commitment, after it had been advocated, and moved 
 for by some honourable and learned gentleman of the 
 house, to be called a combination of libelling separa- 
 tists, and the advocates thereof to be branded for in- 
 cendiaries; whether this appeach not the judgment and 
 approbation of the parliament I leave to equal arbiters. 
 
REMONSTRANT'S DEFENCE, &c. 
 
 59 
 
 SECT. II. 
 
 Remonst. After the overflowing of your gall, you 
 descend to liturgy and episcopacy. 
 
 Answ. The overflow being past, you cannot now in 
 your own judgment impute any bitterness to their fol- 
 ing discourses. 
 
 Remonst. Dr. Hall, M-hom you name I dare say for 
 honour's sake. 
 
 Answ. You are a merry man, sir, and dare say 
 much. 
 
 Remonst. And why should not I speak of martyrs, 
 as the authors and users of this holy liturgy ? 
 
 Answ. As the authors ! the translators, you might 
 perhaps have said : for Edward the sixth, as Hayward 
 hath written in his story, will tell you upon the word 
 of a king, that the order of the service, and the use 
 thereof in the English tongue, is no other than the old 
 service was, and the same words in English which 
 were in Latin, except a few things omitted, so fond, 
 that it had been a shame to have heard them in 
 English ; these are his words : whereby we are left 
 uncertain who the author was, but certain that part of 
 the work was esteemed so absurd by the translators 
 thereof, as was to be ashamed of in English. O but 
 the martyrs were the refiners of it, for that only is left 
 you to say. Admit they were, they could not refine a 
 scorpion into a fish, though they had drawn it, and 
 rinced it with never so cleanly cookery, which made 
 them fall at variance among themselves about the use 
 either of it, or the ceremonies belonging to it. 
 
 Remonst. Slight you them as jou please, we bless 
 God for such patrons of our good cause. 
 
 Answ. O Benedicite ! Qui color ater erat, nunc est 
 contrarius atro. Are not these they which one of your 
 bishops in print scornfully terms the Foxian confes- 
 sors ? Are not these they whose acts and monuments 
 arc not only so contemptible, but so hateful to the pre- 
 lates, that their story was almost come to be a pro- 
 hibited book, which for these two or three editions 
 hath crept into the world by stealth, and at times of 
 advantage, not without the open regret and vexation 
 of the bishops, as many honest men that had to do in 
 setting forth the book will justify ? And now at a dead 
 lift for your liturgies you bless God for them : out upon 
 such hypocrisy ! 
 
 Remonst. As if we were bound to make good every 
 word that falls from the mouth of every bishop. 
 
 Answ. Your faction then belike is a subtile Janus, 
 and hath two faces : your bolder face to set forward 
   any innovations or scandals in the church, your cau- 
 tious and wary face to disavow them if they succeed 
 not, that so the fault may not light upon the function, 
 lest it should spoil the whole plot by giving it an 
 irrecoverable wound. Wherefore else did yon not 
 long ago, as a good bishop should have done, disclaim 
 and protest against them .'' Wherefore have you sat 
 still, and complied and hood-winked, till the general 
 complaints of the land have squeezed you to a wretched, 
 cold, and hollow-hearted confession of some prelatical 
 
 riots both in this and other places of your book ? Nay, 
 what if you still defend them as follows? 
 
 Remonst. If a bishop have said that our liturgy 
 hath been so wisely and charitably framed, as that the 
 devotion of it yieldeth no cause of ofl*ence to a very 
 pope's ear. 
 
 Answ. new and never heard of supererogative 
 height of wisdom and charity in our liturgy ! Is the 
 wisdom of God or the charitable framing of God's 
 word otherwise inoffensive to the pope's ear, than as 
 he may turn it to the working of his mysterious iniquity ? 
 A little pulley would have stretched your wise and 
 charitable frame it may be three inches further, that 
 the devotion of it might have yielded no cause of 
 off*ence to the very devil's ear, and that had been the 
 same wisdom and charity surmounting to the highest 
 degree. For Antichrist we know is but the devil's 
 vicar, and therefore please him with your liturgy, and 
 you please his master. 
 
 Remonst. Would you think it requisite, that we 
 should chide and quarrel when we speak to the God of 
 peace ? 
 
 Answ. Fie, no sir, but forecast our prayers so, that 
 Satan and his instruments may take as little excep- 
 tion against them as may be, lest they should chide 
 and quarrel with us. 
 
 Remonst. It is no little advantage to our cause and 
 piety, that our liturgy is taught to speak several lan- 
 guages for use and example. 
 
 Answ. The language of Ashdod is one of them, and 
 that makes so many Englishmen have such a smatter- 
 ing of their Philistian mother. And indeed our liturgy 
 hath run up and down the world like an English gal- 
 loping nun proflfering herself, but we hear of none yet 
 that bids money for her. 
 
 Remonst. As for that sharp censure of learned Mr. 
 Calvin, it might well have been forborn by him in 
 alicna rcpublica. 
 
 Answ. Thus this untheological remonstrant would 
 divide the individual catholic church into several re- 
 publics : know, therefore, that every worthy pastor of 
 the church of Christ hath universal right to admonish 
 overall the world within the church ; nor can that care 
 be aliened from him by any distance or distinction of 
 nation, so long as in Christ all nations and languages 
 are as one household. 
 
 Remonst. Neither would you think it could become 
 any of our greatest divines, to meddle with his charge. 
 
 Answ. It hath ill become them indeed to meddle so 
 maliciously, as many of them have done, though tiiat 
 patient and christian city hath borne hitherto all their 
 profane scoffs with silence. 
 
 Remonst. Our liturgy passed the judgment of no 
 less reverend heads than his own. 
 
 Answ. It bribed their judgments with worldly en- 
 gagements, and so passed it. 
 
 Remonst. As for that unparalleled discourse con- 
 cerning the antiquity of liturgies, I cannot help your 
 wonder, but shall justify mine own assertion. 
 
 Answ. Your justification is but a miserable shifting 
 off" those testimonies of the ancientest fathers alleged 
 
60 
 
 ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE 
 
 against you, aud the authority of some synodal canons, 
 which are now arrant to us. We profess to decide our 
 controversies only by the Scriptures ; but yet to re- 
 press your vain-glory, there will be voluntarily be- 
 stowed upon you a sufficient conviction of yournovelties 
 out of succeeding- antiquity. 
 
 Renionst. I cannot see how you will avoid your 
 own contradiction, for I demand, is this order of pray- 
 ing and administration set or no ? If it be not set, how 
 is it an order ? And if it be a set order both for matter 
 and form 
 
 Answ. Remove that form, lest you tumble over it, 
 while you make such haste to clap a contradiction upon 
 others. 
 
 Remonst. If the forms were merely arbitrary, to 
 what use was the prescription of an order ? 
 
 Answ. Nothing will cure this man's understanding 
 but some familiar and kitchen physic, which, with 
 pardon, must for plainness sake be administered to 
 him. Call hither your cook. The order of breakfast, 
 dinner, and supper, answer me, is it set or no ? Set. 
 Is a man therefore bound in the morning to poached 
 eggs and vinegar, or at noon to brawn or beef, or 
 at night to fresh salmon, and French kickshose .'' May 
 he not make his meals in order, though he be not 
 bound to this or that viand ? Doubtless the neat-finger- 
 ed artist will answer yes, and help us out of this great 
 controversy without more trouble. Can we not under- 
 stand an order in church-assemblies of praying, read- 
 ing, expounding, and administering, unless our prayers 
 be still the same crambe of words ? 
 
 Remonst. What a poor exception is this, that litur- 
 gies were composed by some particular men ? 
 
 Answ. It is a greater presumption in any particular 
 men, to arrogate to themselves, that which God univer- 
 sally gives to all his ministers. A minister that cannot 
 be trusted to pray in his own words without being 
 chewed to, and fescued to a formal injunction of his 
 rote lesson, should as little be trusted to preach, besides 
 the vain babble of praying over the same things im- 
 mediately again ; for there is a large difference in the 
 repetition of some pathetical ejaculation raised out of 
 the sudden earnestness and vigour of the inflamed soul, 
 (such as was that of Christ in the garden,) from the 
 continual rehearsal of our daily orisons; which if a 
 man shall kneel down in a morning, and say over, and 
 presently in another part of the room kneel down again, 
 and in other words ask but still for the same things as 
 it were out of one inventory, I cannot see how he will 
 escape that heathenish battology of multiplying words, 
 which Christ himself, that has the putting up of our 
 prayers, told us would not be acceptable in heaven. 
 Well may men of eminent gifts set forth as many 
 forms and helps to prayer as they please ; but to im- 
 pose them on ministers lawfully called, and sufficiently 
 tried, as all ought to be ere they be admitted, is a su- 
 percilious tyranny, impropriating the Spirit of God to 
 themselves. 
 
 -Remonst. Do we abridge this liberty by ordaining a 
 public form. 
 
 Answ. Your bishops have set as fair to do it as they 
 
 durst for that old pharasaical fear that still dogs them, 
 the fear of the people ; though you will say you are 
 none of those, still you would seem not to have joined 
 with the worst, and yet keep aloof off from that which 
 is best. I would you would cither mingle, or part : 
 most true it is what Savanarola complains, that while 
 he endeavoured to reform the church, his greatest ene- 
 mies were still these lukewarm ones. 
 
 Remonst. And if the I^ord's prayer be an ordinary 
 and stinted form, why not others? 
 
 Answ. Decause there be no other Lords, that can 
 stint with like authority. 
 
 Remonst. If Justin Martyr said, that the instructor 
 of the people prayed (as they falsely term it) " accord- 
 ing to his ability." 
 
 Answ. "Oari iiva^q avTtp will be so rendered to the 
 world's end by those that are not to learn Greek of the 
 Remonstrant, and so Langus renders it to his face, if 
 he could see ; and this ancient father mentions no an- 
 tiphonies or responsories of the people here, but the 
 only plain acclamation of Amen. 
 
 Remonst. The instructor of the people prayed accord- 
 ing to his ability, it is true, so do ours : and yet we 
 have a liturgy, and so had they. 
 
 Answ. A quick come-off. The ancients used pikes 
 and targets, and therefore guns aud g^eat ordnancct 
 because we use both. 
 
 Remonst. Neither is this liberty of pouring out our- 
 selves in our 'prayers ever the more impeached by a 
 public form. 
 
 Answ. Yes, the time is taken up with a tedious num- 
 ber of liturgical tautologies, and impertinencies. 
 
 Remonst. The words of the council are full and af- 
 firmative. 
 
 Answ. Set the grave councils up upon tlieir shelves 
 again, and string them hard, lest their various and 
 jangling opinions put their leaves into a flutter. I shall 
 not intend this hot season to bid you the base through 
 the wide and dusty champaign of the councils, but 
 shall take counsel of that which counselled them, rea- 
 son : and although I know there is an obsolete repre- 
 hension now at your tongue's end, yet I shall be bold to 
 say, that reason is the gift of God in one man as well 
 as in a thousand : by that which we have tasted already 
 of their cisterns, we may find that reason was the only 
 thing, and not any divine command that moved them 
 to enjoin set forms of liturgy. First, lest any thing in 
 general might be missaid in their public prayers 
 through ignorance, or want of care, contrary to the 
 faith : and next, lest the Arians, and Pelagians in par- 
 ticular, should infect the people by their bj'mns, and 
 forms of prayer. By the leave of these ancient fathers, 
 this was no solid prevention of spreading heresy, to 
 debar the ministers of God the use of their noblest 
 talent, prayer in the congregation ; unless they had 
 forbid the use of sermons, and lectures too, but such as 
 were ready made to their hands, as our homilies : or 
 else he that was heretically disposed, had as fair an 
 opportunity of infecting in his discourse as in his prayer 
 or hymn. As insufficiently, and to say truth, as im- 
 prudently, did they provide by their contrived liturgies, 
 
REMONSTRANT'S DEFENCE. &c. 
 
 61 
 
 lest any thing should be erroneously prayed tbroug-h 
 ignorance, or want of care iu the ministers. For if 
 they were careless and ignorant in their prayers, cer- 
 tainly they would be more careless in their preaching, 
 and 3'et more careless iu watching over their flock ; and 
 what prescription could reach to bound them both in 
 these ? What if reason, now illustrated by the word 
 of God, shall be able to produce a better prevention 
 than these councils have left us against heresy, ignor- 
 ance, or want of care in the ministry, that such wisdom 
 and diligence be used in the education of those that 
 would be ministers, and such strict and serious exami- 
 nation to be undergone, ere their admission, as St. Paul 
 to Timothy sets down at large, and then they need not 
 carry such an unworthy suspicion over the preachers 
 of God's word, as to tutor their unsoundness with the 
 ♦Abcie of a liturgy, or to diet their ignorance, and want 
 of care, with the limited draught of a matin, and even- 
 song drench. All this may suffice after all their labour- 
 some scrutiny of the councils. 
 
 Remonst. Our Saviour was pleased to make use in 
 the celebration of his last and heavenly banquet both 
 of the fashions and words which were usual in the 
 Jewish feasts. 
 
 Answ. What he pleased to make use of, does not 
 justify what you please to force. 
 
 Remonst. The set forms of prayer at the Mincha. 
 
 Answ. We will not buy your rabbinical fumes; we 
 have one that calls us to buy of him pure gold tried in 
 the fire. 
 
 Remonst. In the Samaritan chronicle. 
 
 Answ. As little do we esteem your Samaritan trum- 
 pery, of which people Christ himself testifies, Ye wor- 
 ship ye know not what. 
 
 Remonst. They had their several songs. 
 
 Answ. And so have we our several psalms for several 
 occasions, without gramercy to your liturgy. 
 
 Remonst. Those forms which we have under the 
 names of Saint James, &c., though they have some in- 
 sertions which are plainly spurious, yet the substance 
 of them cannot be taxed for other than holy and 
 ancient. 
 
 Answ. Setting aside the odd coinage of 3'our phrase, 
 which no mint-master of language would allow for 
 sterling, that a thing should be taxed for no other than 
 holy and ancient, let it be supposed the substance of 
 them may savour of something holy or ancient, this is 
 but the matter ; the form, and the end of the thing, may 
 yet render it either superstitious, fruitless, or impious, 
 and so wortliy to be rejected. The garments of a 
 strumpet are often the same, materially, that clothe a 
 chaste matron, and yet ignominious for her to wear : 
 the substance of the tempter's words to our Saviour were 
 holy, but his drift nothing less. 
 
 Remonst. In what sense we hold the Roman a true 
 church, is so cleared that the iron is too hot for their 
 fingers. 
 
 Answ. Have a care it be not the iron to sear your 
 own conscience. 
 
 Remonst. You need not doubt but that the alteration 
 
 • i. e. A, b, c. 
 
 of the liturgy will be considered by wiser heads than 
 your own. 
 
 Answ. We doubt it not, because we know your head 
 looks to be one. 
 
 Remonst. Our liturgy symbolizeth not with popish 
 mass, neither as mass nor as popish. 
 
 Answ. A pretty slipskin conveyance to sift mass into 
 no mass, and popish into not popish ; yet saving this 
 passing fine sophistical boulting hutch, so long as she 
 symbolizes in form, and pranks herself in the weeds of 
 popish mass, it may be justly feared she provokes the 
 jealousy of God, no otherwise than a wife affecting 
 whorish attire kindles a disturbance in the eye of her 
 discerning husband. 
 
 Remonst. If I find gold in the channel, shall I throw 
 it away because it was ill laid ? 
 
 Answ. You have forgot that gold hath been anathe- 
 matized for the idolatrous use ; and to eat the good 
 creatures of God once offered to idols, is in St. Paul's 
 account to have fellowship with devils, and to partake 
 of the devil's table. And thus you throttle yourself 
 with your own similies. 
 
 Remonst. If the devils confessed the Son of God, 
 shall I disclaim that truth ? 
 
 Answ. You sifted not so clean before, but you shuffle 
 as foully now ; as if there were the like necessity of 
 confessing Christ, and using the liturgy : we do not 
 disclaim that truth, because we never believed it for 
 their testinionj' ; but we may well reject a liturgy which 
 had no being that we can know of, but from the cor- 
 ruptest times: if therefore the devil should be given 
 never so much to prayer, I should not therefore cease 
 from that duty, because I learned it not from him ; but 
 if he would commend to me a new Pater-noster, though 
 never so seemingly holy, he should excuse me tlie form 
 which was his; but the matter, which was none of his, 
 he could not give me, nor I be said to take it from him. 
 It is not the goodness of matter therefore which is not, 
 nor can be owed to the liturgy, that will bear it out, if 
 the form, which is the essence of it, be fantastic and 
 superstitious, the end sinister, and the imposition 
 violent. 
 
 Remonst. Had it been composed into this frame on 
 purpose to bring papists to our churches. 
 
 Answ. To bring them to our churches ? alas, what 
 was that ? unless they had been first fitted by repent- 
 ance, and right instruction. You will say, the word 
 was there preached, which is the means of conversion ; 
 you should have given so much honour then to the word 
 preached, as to have left it to God's working without 
 the interloping of a liturgy baited for them to bite at. 
 
 Remonst. The project had been charitable and gra- 
 cious. 
 
 Answ. It was pharisaical, and vain-glorious, a greedy 
 desire to win proselytes bv conforming to them unlaw- 
 fully ; like the desire of Tamar, who, to raise up seed 
 to her husband, sate iu the common road drest like a 
 courtezan, and he that came to her committed incest 
 with her. This was that which made the old Christians 
 paganize, while by their scandalous and base conform- 
 
62 
 
 ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE 
 
 ing to heathenism they did uo more, when they lad 
 done their utmost, but bring some pagans to chris- 
 tianize; for true Christians they neither were them- 
 selves, nor could make other such in this fashion. 
 
 Remonst. If there be found aught in liturgy that 
 may endanger a scandal, it is under careful hands to 
 remove it. 
 
 Answ. Such careful hands as have shewn themselves 
 sooner bent to remove and expel the men from the 
 scandals, than the scandals from the men, and to lose 
 a soul rather than a syllable or a surplice. 
 
 Remonst. It is idolized they say in England, they 
 mean at Amsterdam. 
 
 Answ. Be it idolized therefore where U will, it is 
 only idolatrized in England. 
 
 Remonst. Multitudes of people they say distaste it; 
 more shame for those that have so mistaught them. 
 
 Answ. More shame for those that regard not the 
 troubling God's church with things by themselves con- 
 fessed to be indifferent, since true charity is afflicted, 
 and bums at the offence of every little one. As for the 
 christian multitude which you affirm to be so mistaught, 
 it is evident enough, though you would declaim never 
 so long to the contrary, that God bath now taught 
 them to detest your liturgy and prelacy ; God who 
 hath promised to teach all his children, and to deliver 
 them out of your hands that hunt and worry their souls: 
 hence is it that a man shall commonly find more sa- 
 voury knowledge in one layman, than in a dozen of 
 cathedral prelates ; as we read in our Saviour's time 
 that the common people had a reverend esteem of him, 
 and held him a great prophet, whilst the gowned rab- 
 bles, the incomparable and invincible doctors, were of 
 opinion that he was a friend of Beelzebub. 
 
 Remonst. If the multitude distaste wholesome doc- 
 trine, shall we, to humour them, abandon it."" 
 
 Answ. Yet again ! as if there were like necessity of 
 saving doctrine, and arbitrary, if not unlawful, or in- 
 convenient liturgy : who would have thought a man 
 could have thwacked together so many incongruous 
 similitudes, had it not been to defend the motley inco- 
 herence of a patched missal ? 
 
 Remonst. Why did not other churches conform to 
 us ? I may boldly say ours was, and is, the more noble 
 church. 
 
 Answ. O Laodicean, how vainly and how carnally 
 dost thou boast of nobleness and precedency ! more 
 lordly you have made our church indeed, but not more 
 noble. 
 
 Remonst The second quaere is so weak, that I won- 
 der it could fall from the pens of wise men. 
 
 Answ. You are but a bad fencer, for you never make 
 a proffer against another man's weakness; but you 
 leave your own side always open : mark what follows. 
 
 Remonst. Brethren, can ye think that our reformers 
 had any other intentions than all the other founders of 
 liturgies, the least part of whose care was the help of 
 the minister's weakness ? 
 
 Answ. Do you not perceive the noose you have 
 brought yourself into, whilst you were so brief to taunt 
 other men with weakness ? Is it clean out of your mind 
 what you cited from among the councils ; that the 
 principal scope of those liturgy-founders was to prevent 
 either the malice or the weakness of the ministers; 
 their malice, of infusing heresy in their forms of prayer; 
 their weakness, lest something might be composed by 
 them through ignorance or want of care contrary to 
 the faith ? Is it not now rather to be wondered, that 
 such a weakness could fall from the pen of such a wise 
 remonstrant man ? 
 
 Remonst. Their main drift was the help of the 
 people's devotion, tliat they knowing before the matter 
 that should be sued for, 
 
 Answ. A solicitous care, as if the people could be 
 ignorant of the matter to be prayed for; seeing the 
 heads of public prayer are either ever constant, or very 
 frequently the same. 
 
 Remonst. And the words wherewith it should be 
 clothed, might be the more prepared, and be so much 
 the more intent and less distracted. 
 
 Answ. As for the words, it is more to be feared lest 
 the same continually should make them careless or 
 sleepy, than that variety on the same known subject 
 should distract; variety (as both music and rhetoric 
 teacheth us) erects and rouses an auditory, like the 
 masterful running over many chords and divisions; 
 whereas if men should ever be thumbing the drone of 
 one plain song, it would be a dull opiate to the most 
 wakeful attention. 
 
 Remonst. Tell me, is this liturgy good or evil ? 
 
 Answ. It is evil ; repair the acheloian horn of your 
 dilemma how you can, against the next push. 
 
 Remonst. If it be evil, it is unlawful to be used. 
 
 Answ. We grant you, and we find you have not 
 your salve about you. 
 
 Remonst. Were the imposition amiss, what is that 
 to the people ? 
 
 Answ. Not a little, because they bear an equal part 
 with the priest in many places, and have their cues and 
 verses as well as he. 
 
 Remonst. The ears and hearts of our people look for 
 a settled liturgy. 
 
 Answ. You deceive yourself in their ears and hearts, 
 they look for no such matter. 
 
 Remonst. The like answer serves for homilies, surely 
 they were enjoined to all, &c. 
 
 Answ. Let it serve for them that will be ignorant, 
 we know that Hay ward their own creature writes, that 
 for defect of preachers, homilies were appointed to be 
 read in churches, while Edward VI. reigned. 
 
 Remonst. Away then with the book, whilst it may 
 be supplied with a more profitable nonsense. 
 
 Answ. Away with it rather, because it will he hardly 
 supplied with a more unprofitable nonsense, than is in 
 some passages of it to be seen. 
 
REMONSTRANT'S DEFENCE, &c. 
 
 63 
 
 SECT. III. 
 
 Remonst. Thus their cavils concerning liturgy are 
 vanished. 
 
 Answ. You wanted but hey pass, to have made 
 your transition like a mystical man of Sturbridge. 
 But for all your sleight of hand, our just exceptions 
 against liturgy are not vanished, they stare you still in 
 the face. 
 
 Remonst. Certainly had I done so, I had been 
 no less worthy to be spitten upon for my saucy un- 
 charitableness, than they are now for their uncharitable 
 falsehood. 
 
 Answ. We see you are in a choler, therefore till you 
 cool awhile we turn us to the ingenuous reader. See 
 bow this Remonstrant would invest himself condition- 
 ally with all the rheum of the town, that he might 
 have sufficient to bespaul his brethren. They are ac- 
 cused by him of uncharitable falsehood, whereas their 
 only crime hath been, that they have too credulously 
 thought him, if not an over-logical, yet a well-meaning 
 man ; but now we find him either grossly deficient in 
 his principles of logic, or else purposely bent to delude 
 the parliament with equivocal sophistry, scattering 
 among his periods ambiguous words, whose interpreta- 
 tion he will afterwards dispense according to his plea- 
 sure, laying before us universal propositions, and then 
 thinks when he will to pinion them with a limitation : 
 for say. Remonstrant, 
 
 Remonst. Episcopal government is cried down abroad 
 by either weak or factious persons. 
 
 Answ. Choose you whether you will have this pro- 
 position proved to you to be ridiculous or sophistical ; 
 for one of the two it must be. Step again to bishop 
 Downam your patron, and let him gently catechise 
 you in the grounds of logic ; he will shew you that this 
 axiom, " episcopal government is cried down abroad 
 by either weak or factious persons," is as much as to 
 say, they that cry down episcopacy abroad, arc either 
 weak or factious persons. He will tell you that 
 this axiom contains a distribution, and that all such 
 axioms are general ; and lastly, that the distribution in 
 which any part is wanting, or abundant, is faulty, and 
 fallacious. If therefore distributing by the adjuncts 
 of faction and weakness, the persons that decry epis- 
 copacy, and you made your distribution imperfect for 
 the nonce, you cannot but be guilty of fraud intended 
 toward the honourable court to whom you wrote. If 
 you had rather vindicate j'our honesty, and suffer in 
 your want of art, you cannot condemn them of uncha- 
 ritable falsehood, that attributed to you more skill than 
 you had, thinking you had been able to have made a 
 distribution, as it ought to be, general and full ; and so 
 any man would take it, the rather as being accom- 
 panied witli that large word, (abroad,) and so take 
 again either your manifest leasing, or manifest ig- 
 norance. 
 
 Remonst. Now come these brotherly slanderers. 
 
 Answ. Go on, dissembling Joab, as still your use is, 
 call brother and smite ; call brother and smite, till it be 
 
 said of you, as the like was of Herod, a man had better 
 be your hog than your brother. 
 
 Remonst. Which never came within the verge of 
 my thoughts. 
 
 Answ. Take a metaphor or two more as good, the 
 precinct, or the diocese of your thoughts. 
 
 Remonst. Brethren, if you have any remainders of 
 modesty or truth, cry God mercy. 
 
 Answ. Remonstrant, if you have no groundwork of 
 logic, or plain dealing in you, learn both as fast as you 
 can. 
 
 Remonst. Of the same strain is their witty descant 
 of my confoundedness. 
 
 Answ. Speak no more of it, it was a fatal vrord that 
 God put into your mouth when you began to speak for 
 episcopacy, as boding confusion to it. 
 
 Remonst. I am still, and shall ever be thus self-con- 
 founded, as confidently to say, that he is no peaceable 
 and right-affected son of the church of England, that 
 doth not wish well to liturgy and episcopacy. 
 
 Answ. If this be not that saucy uncharitableness, 
 with which, in the foregoing page, you voluntarily 
 invested yourself, with thought to have shifted it off, 
 let the parliament judge, who now themselves are de- 
 liberating whether liturgy and episcopacy be to be well 
 wished to, or no. 
 
 Remonst. This they say they cannot but rank 
 amongst my notorious — speak out, masters ; I would 
 not hare that word stick in your teeth or in your 
 throat. 
 
 Answ. Take your spectacles, sir, it sticks in the pa- 
 per, and was a pectoral roule we prepared for you to 
 swallow down to your heart. 
 
 Remonst. Wanton wits must have leave to play with 
 their own stern. 
 
 Answ. A meditation of yours doubtless observed at 
 Lambeth from one of the archiepiscopal kittens. 
 
 Remonst. As for that form of episcopal government, 
 surely could those look with my eyes, they would see 
 cause to be ashamed of this their injurious misconceit. 
 
 Answ. We must call the barber for this wise sen- 
 tence; one Mr. Ley the other day wrote a treatise of 
 the sabbath, and his preface puts the wisdom of Ba- 
 laam's ass upon one of our bishops, bold man for his 
 labour ; but we shall have more respect to our Remon- 
 strant, and liken him to the ass's master, though the 
 story say he was not so quick-sighted as his beast. Is 
 not this Balaam the son of Beor, the man whose eyes 
 are open, that said to the parliament, Surely, could those 
 look with my eyes ? Boast not of your eyes, it is fear- 
 ed you have Balaam's disease, a pearl in your eje, 
 Mammon's prestriction . 
 
 Remonst. Alas, we could tell you of China, Japan, 
 Peru, Brazil, New England, Virginia, and a thousand 
 others, that never had any bishops to this day. 
 
 Answ. O do not foil your cause thus, and trouble 
 Ortelius ; we can help you, and tell you where they have 
 been ever since Constantine's time at least, in a place 
 called Mundus alter et idem, in tlie spacious and rich 
 countries of Crapulia, Pamphagonia, Yuronia, and in 
 the dukedom of Orgilia,and Variana, and their metro- 
 
64 
 
 ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE 
 
 1 
 
 polis of Uca]egt>niuni. It was an orersi<i:bt that none 
 of. your prime antiquaries could tliink of tliese vc- 
 uerable monuments to deduce episcopacy by; knowing' 
 that Mcrcurius Britannicus bad tliem furthcoming. 
 
 SECT. IV. 
 
 Remonst. Hitherto they have flourished, now I hope 
 they will strike. 
 
 Answ. His former transition was in the fair about 
 the jugglers, now be is at tlie pageants among the 
 whifflers. 
 
 Remonst. As if arguments were almanacks. 
 
 Answ. You will find some such as will prognosticate 
 your date, and tell you that, after your long summer 
 solstice, the Equator calls for you, to reduce you to the 
 ancient and equal bouse of Libra. 
 
 Remonst. Truly,, brethren, you have not well taken 
 tlie height of the pole. 
 
 Answ, No marvel, there be many more that do not 
 take well the height of your pole ; but will take better 
 the declination of your altitude. 
 
 Remonst. He that said I am the way, said that the 
 old way was the good way. 
 
 Answ. He bids ask of the old paths, or for the old 
 ways, where or which is the good way ; which implies 
 that all old ways are not good, but that the good way 
 is to be searched with diligence among the old ways, 
 which is a thing that we do in the oldest records 
 we have, the gospel. And if others may chance to 
 spend more time with you in canvassing later anti- 
 quity, I suppose it is not for that they ground them- 
 selves thereon ; but that they endeavour by shewing 
 the corruptions, incertainties, and disagreements of 
 those volumes, and the easiness of erring, or overslip- 
 ping in such a boundless and vast search, if they may 
 not convince those that are so strongly pereuaded 
 thereof; yet to free ingenuous minds from an over- 
 awful esteem of those more ancient than trusty fathers, 
 whom custom and fond opinion, weak principles, and 
 the neglect of sounder and superiour knowledge bath 
 exalted so high as to have gained them a blind reve- 
 rence; whose books in bigness and number so endless 
 and immeasurable, I cannot think that either God or 
 nature, either divine or human wisdom, did ever mean 
 should be a rule or reliance to us in the decision of any 
 weighty and positive doctrine : for certainly every rule 
 and instrument of necessary knowledge that God hatli 
 given us, ought to be so in proportion, as may be 
 wielded and managed by the life of man, without 
 penning him up from the duties of human society ; 
 and such a rule and instrument of knowledge perfectly 
 is the holy Bible. But he that shall bind himself to 
 make antiquity his rule, if be read but part, besides 
 the difficulty of choice, his rule is deficient, and utterly 
 unsatisfying ; for there may be other writers of another 
 mind, which he hath not seen; and if he undertake 
 all, the length of man's life cannot extend to give him 
 
 a full and requisite knowledge of what was done in 
 antiquity. Why do we therefore stand worshipping 
 and admiring this unactive and lifeless Colossus, that, 
 like a carved giant terribly menacing to children and 
 weaklings, lifts up his club, but strikes not, and is 
 subject to the muting of every sparrow ? If you let 
 him rest upon his basis, he may perhaps delight the 
 eyes of some with his huge and mountainous bulk, 
 and the quaint workmanship of bis massy limbs ; but 
 if ye go about to take him in pieces, ye mar him ; and 
 if you think, like pigmies, to turn and wind him whole 
 as he is, besides your vain toil and sweat, he may 
 chance to fall upon your own heads. Go, therefore, 
 and use all your art, apply your sledges, your levers, 
 and your iron crows, to heave and hale your mighty 
 Pol^'pheme of antiquity to the delusion of novices and 
 unexperienced Christians. We shall adhere close to 
 the Scriptures of God, which he hath left us as the just 
 and adequate measure of truth, fitted and proportioned 
 to the diligent study, memory, and use of every faithful 
 man, whose every part consenting, and making up the 
 harmonious symmetry of complete instruction, is able 
 to set out to us a perfect man of God, or bishop 
 thoroughly furnished to all the good works of his 
 charge : and with this weapon, without stepping a foot 
 further, we shall not doubt to batter and throw down 
 your Nebuchadnezzar's image, and crumble it like the 
 chaflT of the summer threshing-floors, as well the gold 
 of those apostolic successors that you boast of, as your 
 Constantinian silver, together with the iron, the brass, 
 and the clay of those muddy and strawy ages that 
 follow. 
 
 Remonst. Let the boldest forehead of them all deny 
 that episcopacy hath continued thus long in our island, 
 or that any till this age contradicted it. 
 
 Answ. That bold forehead you have cleanly put 
 upon yourself, it is yon who deny that any till this age 
 contradicted it ; no forehead of ours dares do so much : 
 you have rowed yourself fairly between the Scylla and 
 Charybdis, either of impudence or nonsense, and now 
 betake you to whither you please. 
 
 Remonst. As for that supply of accessory strength, 
 which I not beg. 
 
 Answ. Your whole remonstrance does nothing else 
 but beg it, and your fellow-prelates do as good as 
 whine to the parliament for their fleshpots of Egypt, 
 making sad orations at the funeral of your dear pre- 
 lacy, like that doughty centurion Afranius in Lucian ; 
 who, to imitate the noble Pericles in his epitaphian 
 speech, stepping up after the battle to bewail the 
 slain Sevcrianus, falls into a pitiful condolement, to 
 think of those costlj' suppers and drinking banquets, 
 which he must now taste of no more; and by then 
 he had done, lacked but little to lament tlie dear-loved 
 memory and calamitous loss of his capon and white 
 broth. 
 
 Remonst. But raise and evince from the light of 
 nature, and the rules of just policy, for the continu- 
 ance of those things which long use and many laws 
 have firmly established as necessary and beneficial. 
 
 Answ. Open your eyes to the light of grace, a better 
 
REMONSTRANT'S DEFENCE, &c. 
 
 6d 
 
 o-uide than nature. Look upon the mean condition of 
 Christ and his apostles, without that accessory strength 
 you take such pains to raise from the lig-ht of nature 
 and policy : take divine counsel, " Labour not for the 
 things that perish :" you would be the salt of the earth ; 
 if that savour be not found in you, do not think much 
 that the lime is now come to throw you out, and tread 
 you under-foot. Hark how St. Paul, writing to Timo- 
 thy, informs a true bishop ; " Bishops (saith he) must 
 not be greedy of filthy lucre; and having food and 
 raiment, let us be therewith content : but they (saith 
 he, meaning, more especially in that place, bishops) 
 that will be rich, fall into temptation and a snare, and 
 into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown men 
 in destruction and perdition : for the love of money is 
 the root of all evil, which while some coveted after, 
 tbey have erred from the faith." How can we there- 
 fore expect sound doctrine, and the solution of this our 
 controversy from any covetous and honour-hunting 
 bishop, that shall plead so stiffly for these things, while 
 St. Paul thus exhorts every bishop ; " But thou, O man 
 of God, flee these things ?" As for the just policy, that 
 long use and custom, and those many laws which you 
 say have conferred these benefits upon you ; it hath 
 been nothing else but the supei-stitious devotion of 
 princes and great men that knew no better, or the base 
 importunity of begging friars, haunting and harassing 
 the deathbeds of men departing this life, in a blind 
 and wretched condition of hope to merit heaven for 
 the building of churches, cloisters, and convents. The 
 most of your vaunted possessions, and those proud en- 
 dowments that ye as sinfully waste, what are they but 
 the black revenues of purgatory, the price of abused 
 and murdered souls, the damned simony of Trentals, 
 and indulgences to mortal sin .'' How can ye choose 
 but inherit the curse that goes along with such a patri- 
 mony ? Alas ! if there be any releasement, any mitiga- 
 tion, or more tolerable being for the souls of our mis- 
 guided ancestors ; could we imagine there might be 
 any recovery to some degree of ease left for as many of 
 them as are lost, there cannot be a better way than to 
 take the niisbestowed wealth which they were cheated 
 of, from these our prelates, who are the true successors 
 of those that popped them into the other world with 
 this conceit of meriting by their goods, which was their 
 final undoing; and to bestow their beneficent gifts 
 upon places and means of christian education, and the 
 faithful labourers in God's harvest, that may incessantly 
 warn the posterity of Dives, lest they come where their 
 miserable forefather was sent by the cozenage and 
 misleading of avaricious and worldly prelates. 
 
 Remonst. It will stand long enough against the bat- 
 tery of their paper pellets. 
 
 Answ. That must be tried without a square cap in 
 the council; and if pellets will not do, your own canons 
 shall be turned against you. 
 
 Remonst. They cannot name any man in this nation, 
 that ever contradicted episcopacy, till this present age. 
 
 Answ. What an overworn and bedridden argument is 
 this ! the last refuge ever of old falsehood, and there- 
 fore a good sign, I trust, that your castle cannot hold 
 
 out long. This was the plea of Judaism and idolatry' 
 against Christ and his apostles, of papacy against re- 
 formation ; and perhaps to tjje frailty of flesh and blood 
 in a man destitute of better enlightening may for some 
 while be pardonable : for what has fleshly apprehension 
 other to subsist by than succession, custom, and visi- 
 bility ; which only hold, if in his weakness and blind- 
 ness he be loth to lose, wiio can blame ? But in a pro- 
 testant nation, that should have thrown off" these tattered 
 rudiments long ago, after the many strivings of God's 
 Spirit, and our fourscore years' vexation of him in this 
 our wilderness since reformation began, to urge these 
 rotten principles, and twit us with the present age, 
 which is to us an age of ages wherein God is mani- 
 festly come down among us, to do some remarkable 
 good to our church or state; is, as if a man should tax 
 the renovating and reingendering Spirit of God with 
 innovation, and that new creature for an upstart novelty ; 
 yea, the new Jerusalem, which, without your admired 
 link of succession, descends from heaven, could not 
 escape some such like censure. If you require a fur- 
 ther answer, it will not misbecome a Christian to be 
 eitlier more magnanimous or more devout than Scipio 
 was ; who, instead of other answer to the frivolous 
 accusations of Petilius the tribune," This day, Romans, 
 (saith he,) I fought with Hannibal prosperously; let us 
 all go and thank the gods, that gave us so great a vic- 
 tory:" in like manner will we now say, not caring 
 otherwise to atiswer this unprotestantlike objection; In 
 this age, Britons, God hath reformed his church after 
 many hundred years of popish corruption; in this age 
 he hath freed us from the intolerable yoke of prelates 
 and papal discipline ; in this age he hath renewe<l our 
 protestation against all those yet remaining dregs of 
 superstition. I^t us all go, every true protested Briton, 
 throughout the three kingdoms, and render thanks to 
 God the Father of light, and Fountain of heavenly grace, 
 and to his Son Christ our Lord, leaving this Remon- 
 strant and his adherents to their own designs; and let 
 us recount even here without delay, the patience and 
 long-suffering that God hath used towards our blind- 
 ness and hardness time after time. For he being 
 equally near to his whole creation of mankind, and of 
 free power to turn his beneficent and fatherly regard 
 to what region or kingdom he pleases, hath yet ever 
 had this island under the special indulgent eye of his 
 providence ; and pitying us the first of all other 
 nations, after he had decreed to purify and renew his 
 church that lay wallowing in idolatrous pollutions, 
 sent first to us a healing messenger to touch softly 
 our sores, and carry a gentle hand over our wounds : 
 he knocked once and twice, and came again, opening 
 our drowsy eyelids leisurely by that glimmering 
 light, which WicklifF and his followers dispersed ; 
 and still taking off by degrees the inveterate scales 
 from our nigh perished sight, purged also our deaf ears, 
 and prepared them to attend his second warning trum- 
 pet in our grandsires' days. How else could they have 
 been able to have received the sudden assault of his 
 reforming Spirit, warring against human principles, 
 and carnal sense, the pride of flesh, that still cried up 
 
ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE 
 
 antiquity, custom, canons, councils, and laws; and cried 
 down the truth for novelty, schism, profanencss, and 
 sacrilege ? whenas we that have lived so long in abun- 
 dant light, besides the sunny reflection of all the neigh- 
 bouring churches, have yet our hearts rivetted with 
 those old opinions, and so obstructed and benumbed 
 with the same fleshly reasonings, which in our fore- 
 fathers soon melted and gave way, against the morn- 
 ing beam of reformation. If God had left undone this 
 whole work, so contrary to flesh and blood, till these 
 times ; how should we have yielded to his heavenly 
 call, had we been taken, as they were, in the starkness 
 of our ignorance ; that yet, after all these spiritual pre- 
 paratives and purgations, have our earthly apprehen- 
 sions so clammed and furred with the old leaven ? O 
 if we freeze at noon after their early thaw, let us fear 
 lest the sun for ever hide himself, and turn his orient 
 steps from our ingrateful horizon, justly condemned to 
 be eternally benighted. Which dreadful judgment, O 
 thou the ever-begotten Light and perfect image of the 
 Father ! intercede, may never come upon us, as we tnist 
 thou hast; for thou hast opened our difficult and sad 
 times, and given us an unexpected breathing after our 
 long oppressions : thou hast done justice upon those 
 that tyrannized over us, while some men wavered and 
 admired a vain shadow of wisdom in a tongue nothing 
 slow to utter guile, though thou hast taught us to ad- 
 mire only that which is good, and to count that only 
 praiseworthy, which is grounded upon thy divine pre- 
 cepts. Thou hast discovered the plots, and frustrated 
 the hopes, of all the 'vicked in the land, and put to 
 shame the persecutors of thy churcli : thou hast made 
 our false prophets to be found a lie in the sight of all 
 the people, and chased them with sudden confusion and 
 amazement before the redoubled brightness of thy de- 
 scending cloud, that now covers thy tabernacle. Who 
 is there that cannot trace thee now in thy beamy walk 
 through the midst of thy sanctuary, amidst those golden 
 candlesticks, which have long suffered a dimness 
 amongst us through the violence of those that had 
 seized them, and were more taken with the mention of 
 their gold than of their starry light; teaching the doc- 
 trine of Balaam, to cast a stumbling-block before thy 
 servants, commanding them to eat things sacrificed to 
 idols, and forcing them to fornication ? Come, there- 
 fore, O thou that hast the seven stars in thy right hand, 
 appoint thy chosen priests according to their orders 
 and courses of old, to minister before thee, and duly to 
 press and pour out the consecrated oil into thy holy 
 and ever-burning lamps. Thou hast sent out the spirit 
 of prayer upon thy servants over all the land to this 
 effect, and stirred up their vows as the sound of many 
 waters about thy throne. Every one can say, that now 
 certainly thou hast visited this land, and hast not for- 
 gotten the utmost corners of the earth, in a time when 
 men had thought that thou wast gone up from us to 
 the farthest end of the heavens, and hadst left to do 
 marvellously among the sons of these last ages. O per- 
 fect and accomplish thy glorious acts! for men may 
 leave their works unfinished, but thou art a God, thy 
 nature is perfection : shouldst thou bring us tlius far 
 
 onward from Egypt to destroy us in this wilderness, 
 though we deserve ; yet thy great name would suffer 
 in the rejoicing of thine enemies, and the deluded hope 
 of all thy servants. When thou hast settled peace in 
 the church, and righteous judgment in the kingdom, 
 then shall all thy saints address their voices of joy and 
 triumph to thee, standing on the shore of that Red sea 
 into which our enemies had almost driven us. And he 
 that now for haste snatches up a plain ungamished pre- 
 sent as a thank-offering to thee, which could not be 
 deferred in regard of thy so many late deliverances 
 wrought for us one upon another, may then perhaps 
 take up a harp, and sing thee an elaborate song to ge- 
 nerations. In that day it shall no more be said as in 
 scorn, this or that was never held so till this present 
 age, when men have better learnt that the times and 
 seasons pass along under thy feet to go and come at 
 thy bidding : and as thou didst dignify our fathers' 
 days with many revelations above all the foregoing 
 ages, since thou tookest the flesh ; so thou canst vouch- 
 safe to us (though unworthy) as large a portion of thy 
 Spirit as thou pleasest : for who shall prejudice thy all-, 
 governing will .'' seeing the power of thy grace is not 
 passed away with the primitive times, as fond and 
 faithless men imagine, but thy kingdom is now at hand, 
 and thou standing at the door. Come forth out of thy 
 royal chambers, O Prince of all the kings of the earth ! 
 put on the visible robes of thy imperial majesty, take 
 up that unlimited sceptre which thy almighty Father 
 hath bequeathed thee ; for now the voice of thy bride 
 calls thee, and all creatures sigh to be renewed. 
 
 SECT. V. 
 
 Remonst. Neglect not the g^ft which was given thee 
 by prophecy, and by laying on the hands of presbytery. 
 
 Answ. The English translation expresses the article, 
 (the,) and renders it the presbytery, which you do in- 
 jury to omit. 
 
 Remonst. Which I wonder ye can so press, when 
 Calvin himself takes it of the office, and not of the men. 
 
 Answ. You think then you are fairly quit of this 
 proof, because Calvin interprets it for you, as if we 
 could be put off with Calvin's name, unless we be con- 
 vinced with Calvin's reason ! the word irpialSvTipiov is 
 a collective noun, signifying a certain number of men 
 in one order, as the word privy-council with us ; and 
 so Beza interprets, that knew Calvin's mind doubtless, 
 with whom he lived. If any amongst us should say 
 the privy-council ordained it, and thereby constrain us 
 to understand one man's authority, should we not laugh 
 at him ? And therefore when you have used all your 
 cramping-irons to the text, and done your utmost to 
 cram a presbytery into the skin of one person, it will 
 be but a piece of frugal nonsense. But if your mcan^ 
 ing be with a violent hyperbaton to transpose the text,-' 
 as if the words lay thus in order, " neglect not the gift 
 of presbytery :" this were a construction like a barque- 
 
REMONSTILVNT'S DEFENCE, &c. 
 
 67 
 
 buss shot over a file of words twelve deep, without 
 authority to bid them stoop ; or to make the word gift, 
 like the river Mole in Surry, to run under the bottom 
 of a long line, and so start up to govern the word pres- 
 bytery, as in immediate syutaxis ; a device ridiculous 
 enough to make good that old wife's tale of a certain 
 queen of England that sunk at Charing-cross, and rose 
 up at Queenhithe. No marvel though the prelates be 
 a troublesome generation, and, which way soever they 
 turn them, put all things into a foul discomposure, when 
 to maintain their domineering, they seek thus to rout 
 and disarray the wise and well-couched order of Saint 
 Paul's own words, using either a certain textual riot to 
 chop off the hands of the word presbytery, or else a like 
 kind of simony to clap the word gift between them. 
 Besides, if the verse must be read according to this 
 transposition, /<>) afttkti r« Iv aoi xapt<T/*arof r« irpia^v- 
 ripiH, it would be improper to call ordination xap«^M^> 
 whenas it is rather only x<(fia(T/xa, an outward testimony 
 ',f approbation ; unless they will make it a sacrament, 
 as the papists do : but surely tlie prelates would have 
 Saint Paul's words ramp one over another, as they use 
 to climb into their livings and bishoprics. 
 
 Remonst. Neither need we give any other satisfac- 
 tion to the point, than from Saint Paul himself, 2 Tim- 
 othy i. 6, " Stir up the gift of God which is in thee by 
 the imposition of ray hands ;" mine, and not others. 
 
 Answ. Ye are too quick ; this last place is to be un- 
 derstood by the former ; as the law of method, which 
 bears chief sway in the art of teaching, requires, that 
 clearest and plainest expressions be set foremost, to the 
 end they may enlighten any following obscurity ; and 
 wherefore we should not attribute a right method to the 
 teachableness of Scripture, there can be no reason given : 
 to which method, if we shall now go contrary, besides 
 the breaking of a logical rule, which the Remonstrant 
 hitherto we see hatli made little account of, we shall 
 also put a manifest violence and impropriety upon a 
 known word against his common signification, in 
 binding a collective to a singular person. But if we 
 shall, as logic (or indeed reason) instructs us, expound 
 the latter place by the former cited, and understand 
 " by the imposition of my hands," that is, of mine 
 chiefly as an apostle, with the joint authority and as- 
 sistance of the presbytery, there is nothing more ordi- 
 nai-y or kindly in speech, than such a phrase as expresses 
 only the chief in any action, and understands the rest. 
 So that the imposition of Saint Paul's hands, without 
 more expression in this place, cannot exclude the joint 
 act of the presbytery affirmed by the former text. 
 
 Remonst. In the mean while sec, brethren, how you 
 have with Simon fished all night, and caught nothing. 
 
 Answ. If we fishing with Simon the apostle can 
 catch nothing, see what you can catch with Simon 
 Magus ; for all his hooks and fishing implements he 
 bequeathed among you. 
 
 SECT. XIII. 
 
 Remonst. We do again profess, that if our bishops 
 challenge any other power than was delegated to and 
 required of Timothy and Titus, we shall yield them 
 usurpers. 
 
 Answ. Ye cannot compare an ordinary bishop with 
 Timothy, who was an extraordinary man, foretold and 
 promised to the church by many prophecies, and his 
 name joined as collateral with Saint Paul, in most of 
 bis apostolic epistles, even where he writes to the 
 bishops of other churches, as those in Philippi. Nor can 
 you prove out of the Scripture that Timothy was bishop 
 of any particular place ; for that wherein it is said in 
 the third verse of the first epistle, " As I besought thee 
 to abide still at Epbesus," will be such a gloss to prove 
 the constitution of a bishop by, as would not only be 
 not so good as a Bourdeaux gloss, but scarce be re- 
 ceived to varnish a vi/ard of Modona. All that can 
 be gathered out of holy writ concerning Timothy is, 
 that he was either an apostle, or an apostle's extraordi- 
 nary vice-gerent, not confined to the charge of any 
 place. The like may be said of Titus, (as those words 
 import in the 5th verse,) that he was for that cause left 
 in Crete, that he might supply or proceed to set in 
 order that which St. Paul in apostolic manner had 
 begun, for which he had his particular commission, as 
 those words sound " as I had appointed thee." So that 
 what he did in Crete, cannot so much be thought the 
 exercise of an ordinary function, as the direction of an 
 inspired mouth. No less may be gathered from the 
 2 Cor. viii. 23. 
 
 Remonst. You descend to the angels of the seven 
 Asian churches ; your shift is, that the word angel is 
 here taken collectively, not individually. 
 
 Answ. That the word is collective, appears plainly, 
 Revel, ii. 
 
 Pirst, Because the text itself expounds it so ; for 
 having spoken all the while as to the angel, the seventh 
 verse concludes, that this was spoken to the churches. 
 Now if the Spirit conclude collectively, and kept the 
 same tenor all the way, for we see not where he par- 
 ticularizes ; then certainly he must begin collectively, 
 else the construction can be neither grammatical nor 
 
 logical. 
 
 Secondly, If the word angel be individual, then are 
 the faults attributed to him individual : but they are 
 sucli as for which God threatens to remove the candle- 
 stick out of its place, which is as much as to take away 
 from that church the light of his truth ; and we cannot 
 think he will do so for one bishop's fault. Therefore 
 those faults must be understood collective, and by con- 
 sequence the subject of them collective. 
 
 Thirdly, An individual cannot branch itself into sub- 
 individuals ; but this word angel doth in the tenth verse. 
 " Fear none of those things which thou shall suflTer ; 
 behold the devil shall cast some of you into prison." 
 And the like from other places of this and the following 
 chapter may be observed. Therefore it is no individual 
 word, but a collective. 
 
ANIMADVKRSlO.Nrs UPON THE 
 
 Fourthly, In the 24th verse tliis word Angel is made 
 capable of a pronoun plural, which could not be, unless 
 it were a collective. As for the supposed manuscript 
 of Tecla, and two or three other copies that have ex- 
 punged the copulative, we cannot prefer them before 
 the more received reading-, and we hope you will not, 
 aeraiiist the translation of your mother the church of 
 England, that passed the revise of 3'our chiefest pre- 
 lates: besides this, you will lay an unjust censure upon 
 tlie much-praised bishop of Thyatira, and reckon him 
 iimong those that had the doctrine of Jezebel, when 
 the text says, he only suffered her. Whereas, if you 
 will but let in a charitable conjunction, as we know 
 your so much called for charity will not deny, then you 
 plainly acquit the bishop, if you comprehend him in 
 the name of angel, otherwise you leave his case very 
 doubtful. 
 
 Remonst. " Thou sufTerest thy wife Jezebel :" was 
 she wife to the whole company, or to one bishop alone? 
 
 Answ. Not to the whole company doubtless, for that 
 liad been worse than to have been the Levite's wife in 
 Gibeah : but here among all those that constantly read 
 it otherwise, whom you trample upon, your good mother 
 of England is down again in the throng, who with the 
 rest reads it, ' that woman Jezebel :' but suppose it 
 were wife, a man might as well interpret that word 
 figuratively, as her name Jezebel no man doubts to be 
 a borrowed name. 
 
 Remonst. Yet what makes this for a diocesan bishop? 
 Much every way. 
 
 Answ. No more tlian a special endorsement could 
 make to puff up the foreman of a jury. If we deny 
 you more precedence, than as the senior of any society, 
 or deny you this priority to be longer than annual ; 
 prove you the contrary from hence, if you can. That 
 you think to do from the title of eminence. Angel : alas, 
 your wings are too short. It is not ordination nor 
 jurisdiction that is angelical, but the heavenly message 
 of the gospel, which is the office of all ministers alike; 
 in which sense John the Baptist is called an Angel, 
 which in Greek signifies a messenger, as oft as it is 
 meant by a man, and might be so rendered here with- 
 out treason to the hierarchy ; but that the whole book 
 soars to a prophetic pitch in types and allegories. .See- 
 ing then the reason of this borrowed name is merely to 
 signify the preaching of the gospel, and that this preach- 
 ing equally appertains to the whole ministry ; hence 
 may be drawn a fifth argument, that if the reason of 
 this borrowed name Angel be equally collective and 
 communicative to the whole preaching ministry of the 
 place, then must the name be collectively and commu- 
 nicatively taken ; but the reason, that is to say, the 
 office, of preaching and watching over the flock, is 
 equally collective and communicative : therefore the 
 borrowed name itself is to be understood as equally 
 collective and communicative to the whole preaching 
 ministry of the place. And if you will contend still 
 for a superiority in one person, you must ground it bet- 
 ter than from this metaphor, which you may now de- 
 plore as the axehead that fell into the water, and say, 
 " Alas, master, for it was borrowed ;" unll•^'^ von have, 
 
 as good a faculty to make iron swim, as you had to 
 make light froth sink. 
 
 Remonst. What is, if this be not, ordination and 
 jurisdiction ? 
 
 Answ. Indeed in the constitution and founding of a 
 church, that some men inspired from God should have 
 an extraordinary calling to appoint, to order, and dis- 
 pose, must needs be. So Moses, though himself no 
 priest, sanctified and ordained Aaron and his sons ; but 
 when all needful things be set, and regulated by the 
 writings of the apostles, whether it be not a mere lolly 
 to keep up a superior degree in the church only for 
 ordination and jurisdiction, it will be no hurt to debate 
 awhile. The apostles were the builders, and, as it 
 were, the architects of the christian church ; wherein 
 consisted their excellence above ordinary ministers ? 
 A prelate would say in commanding, in controlling, in 
 appointing, in calling to them, and sending from about 
 them, to all countries, their bishops and archbishops as 
 their deputies, with a kind of legantine power. No, 
 no, vain prelates, this was but as the scaffolding of a 
 new edifice, which for the time must board and over- 
 look the highest battlements ; but if the structure once 
 finished, any passenger should fall in love with them, 
 and pray that they might still stand, as being a singular 
 grace and strengthening to the house, who would 
 otherwise think, but that the man was presently to be 
 laid hold on, and sent to his friends and kindred ? The 
 eminence of the apostles consisted in their powerful 
 preaching, their unwearied labouring in the word, their 
 unquenchable charity, which, above all earthly respects, 
 like a working flame, had spun up to such a height of 
 pure desire, as might be thought next to that love 
 which dwells in God to save souls ; which, while they 
 did, they were contented to be the offscouring of the 
 world, and to expose themselves willingly to all afflic- 
 tions, perfecting thereby their hope through patience 
 to a joy unspeakable. As for ordination, what is it, 
 but the laying on of hands, an outward sign or symbol 
 of admission ? It creates nothing, it confers nothing ; 
 it is the inward calling of God that makes a minister, 
 and his own painful study and diligence that manures 
 and improves his ministerial gifts. In the primitive 
 times, many, before ever they had received ordination 
 from the apostles, had done the church noble service, 
 as ApoUos and others. It is but an orderly form of re- 
 ceiving a man already fitted, and committing to him a 
 particular charge ; the employment of preaching is as 
 holy, and far more excellent; the care also and judg- 
 ment to be used in the winning of souls, which is 
 thought to be sufficient in every worthy minister, is an 
 ability above that which is required in ordination : for 
 many may be able to judge who is fit to be made a 
 minister, that would not be found fit to be made minis- 
 ters themselves ; as it will not be denied that he may 
 be the competent judge of a neat picture, or elegant 
 poem, that cannot limn the like. Why therefore we 
 should constitute a superior order in the church to per- 
 form an office which is not only every minister's func- 
 tion, but inferior also to that which he has a confessed 
 right to; :tii(l whv this superiority should remain thus 
 
REMONSTRANT'S DEFENCE, .Sec. 
 
 usurped, some wise Epinieiiides tell us. Now for 
 jurisdiction, this dear saint of the prelates, it will be 
 best to consider, first, what it is : that sovereign Lord, 
 who in the discharge of his holy anointment from God 
 the Father, which made him supreme bishop of our 
 souls, was so humble as to say, " Who made me a 
 judge, or a divider over ye ?" hath taught us that a 
 churchman's jurisdiction is no more but to watch over 
 his flock in season, and out of season, to deal by sweet 
 and eflicacious instructions, gentle admonitions, and 
 sometimes rounder reproofs : against negligence or 
 obstinacy, will be required a rousing volley of pas- 
 torly threatcniiigs ; against a persisting stubbornness, 
 or the fear of a reprobate sense, a timely separation 
 from the flock hy that interdictive sentence, lest his 
 conversation unprohibited, or unbranded, might breathe 
 a pestilential murrain into the other sheep. Tn 
 sum, his jurisdiction is to sec the thriving and pros- 
 pering of that which he hath planted : what other 
 work the prelates have found for chancellors and suf- 
 fragans, delegates and officials, with all the hell-pes- 
 tering rabble of sumners and apparitors, is but an in- 
 vasion upon the temporal magistrate, and affected by 
 them as men that are not ashamed of the ensign and 
 banner of antichrist. But true evangelical jurisdiction 
 or discipline is no more, as was said, than for a minis- 
 ter to see to the thriving and prospering of that which 
 he hath planted. And which is the worthiest work of 
 these two, to plant as every minister's office is equally 
 with the bishops, or to tend that which is planted, 
 which the blind and undiscerning prelates call juris- 
 diction, and would api»ropriate to themselves as a busi- 
 ness of higher dignity .'' Have patience therefore a 
 little, and hear a law case. A certain man of large 
 possessions had a fair garden, and kept therein an ho- 
 nest and laborious servant, whose skill and profession 
 was to set or sow all wholesome herbs, and delightful 
 flowers, according to every season, and whatever else 
 was to be done in a well-husbanded nursery of plants 
 and fruits. Now, when the time was come that he 
 should cut his hedges, prune his trees, look to his ten- 
 der slips, and pluck up the weeds that hindered their 
 growtli, he gets him up by break of da}', and makes 
 account to do what was needful in his garden ; and 
 wlio would think that any other should know better 
 tlian he how the day's work was to be spent ? Yet for 
 all this there comes another strange gardener that 
 never knew the soil, never handled a dibble or spade to 
 set the least potlierb that grew there, much less had 
 endured an hour's sweat or chilness, and yet challenges 
 as his right the binding or unbinding of every flower, 
 the clipping of every bush, the weeding and worming 
 of every bed, both in that and all other gardens there- 
 about. The honest gardener, that ever since the day- 
 peep, till now the sun was grown somewhat rank, had 
 wrought painfully about his banks and seedplots, at his 
 commanding voice turns suddenly about with some 
 wonder ; and although he could have well beteemed 
 to have thanked him of the ease he proffered, yet loving 
 his own handywork, modestly refused liim, tellirg him 
 withal, that, for his part, if he had thought much of his 
 
 own pains, he could for once have committed the work 
 to one of his fellow-labourers, for as much as it is well 
 known to be a matter of less skill and less labour to 
 keep a garden handsome, than it is to plant it, or con- 
 trive it, and that he had already performed himself No, 
 said the stranger, this is neither for you nor your fellows 
 to meddle with, but for me only that am for this pur- 
 pose in dignity far above you ; and the provision whicli 
 the lord of the soil allows me in this office is, and that 
 with good reason, tenfold your wages. The gardener 
 smiled and shook his head ; but what was determined, 
 I cannot tell you till the end of this parliament. 
 
 Remonst. If in time you shall see wooden chalices, 
 and wooden priests, thank yourselves. 
 
 Answ. It had been happy for this land, if your priests 
 had been but only wooden ; all England knows they 
 have been to this island not wood, but wormwood, that 
 have infected the third part of our waters, like that 
 apostate star in the Revelation, that many souls have 
 died of their bitterness ; and if you mean by wooden, 
 illiterate or contemptible, there was no want of that 
 sort among you; and their number increasing daily, 
 as tlicir laziness, their tavern-hunting, their neglect of 
 all sound literature, and their liking of doltish and 
 monastical schoolmen daily increased. What, should 
 I tell you how the universities, that men look should 
 be fountains of learning and knowledge, have been 
 poisoned and choaked under your governance ."* And if 
 to be wooden be to be base, where could there be found 
 among all the reformed churches, nay in the church of 
 Rome itself, a baser brood of flattering and time-serv- 
 ing priests.'' according as God pronounces b}' Isaiah, 
 the prophet that tcacheth lies, he is the tail. As for your 
 young scholars, that petition for bishoprics and dean- 
 eries to encourage tliera in their studies, and that many 
 gentlemen else will not put their sons to learning; away 
 with such young mercenary striplings, and their simo- 
 niacal fathers ; God has no need of such, they have no 
 part or lot in his vineyard : they may as well sue for 
 nunneries, that they may have some convenient stow- 
 age for their withered daughters, because they cannot 
 give them portions answerable to tlie pride and vanity 
 they have bred them in. This is the root of all our 
 mischief, that which they allege for the encouragement 
 of their studies should be cut away forewith as the very 
 bait of pride and ambition, the very garbage that draws 
 together all the fowls of prey and ravin in the land to 
 come and gorge upon the church. How can it be but 
 ever unhappy to the church of England, while she shall 
 think to entice men to the pure senice of God by the 
 same means that were used to tempt our Saviour to 
 the service of the devil, by laying before him honour 
 and preferment .•* Fit professors indeed are they like to 
 be, to teach others that godliness with content is great 
 gain, whenas their godliness of teaching had not been 
 but for worldly gain. The heathen philosophers thought 
 that virtue was for its own sake inestimable, and the 
 greatest gain of a teacher to make a soul virtuous ; so 
 Xenophon writes to Socrates, who never bargained 
 with any for teaching them ; he feared not lest tho.se 
 who had received so high a benefit from him, would 
 
ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE 
 
 iij>t of their own free will return liim all possible 
 thanks. Was moral virtue so lovely, and so alluring, 
 and heathen men so enamoured of her, as to teach 
 and study her with greatest neglect and contempt of 
 worldly profit and advancement ? And is Christian 
 piety so homely and so unpleasant, and Christian 
 men so cloyed with her, as that none will study and 
 teach her, but for lucre and preferment ? O stale- 
 grown piety ! O gospel rated as cheap as thy Master, 
 at thirty pence, and not worth the study, unless thou 
 canst buy those that will sell thee ! O race of Ca- 
 pcrnaitans, senseless of divine doctrine, and capable 
 only of loaves and belly-cheer ! But they will grant, 
 perhaps, piety may thrive, but learning will decay : I 
 w ould fain ask these men at whose hands tlicy seek 
 inferiour things, as wealth, honour, their dainty fare, 
 their lofty houses ? No doubt but they will soon an- 
 swer, that all these things they seek at God's hands. 
 Do they think then that all these meaner and super- 
 fluous things come from God, and the divine gift of 
 learning from the den of Plutus, or the cave of Mam- 
 mon ? Certainly never any clear spirit nursed up from 
 brighter influences, with a soul enlarged to the dimen- 
 sions of spacious art and high knowledge, ever entered 
 there but with scorn, and thought it ever foul disdain 
 to make pelf or ambition the reward of his studies ; it 
 being the greatest honour, the greatest fruit and pro- 
 ficiency of learned studies to despise these things. Not 
 liberal science, but illiberal must that needs be, that 
 mounts in contemplation merely for money. And what 
 would it avail us to have a hireling clergy, though 
 never so learned .'* For such can have neither true wis- 
 dom nor grace ; and then in vain do men trust in learn- 
 ing, where these be wanting. If in less noble and 
 almost mechanic arts, according to the definitions of 
 those authors, he is not esteemed to deserve the name 
 of a complete architect, an excellent painter, or the 
 like, that bears not a generous mind above the peasantly 
 regard of wages and hire; much more must we think 
 him a most imperfect and incomplete divine, who is 
 so far from being a contemner of filthy lucre, that his 
 whole divinity is moulded and bred up in the beggarly 
 and brutish hopes of a fat prebendary, deanery, or 
 bishopric ; which poor and low-pitched desires, if they 
 do but mix with those other heavenly intentions that 
 draw a man to this study, it is justly expected that they 
 should bring forth a basebom issue of divinity, like that 
 of those imperfect and putrid creatures that receive a 
 crawling life from two most unlike procreants, the sun 
 and mud. And in matters of religion, there is not any 
 thing more intolerable than a learned fool, or a learned 
 hypocrite ; the one is ever cooped up at his empty 
 speculations, a sot, an ideot for any use that mankind 
 can make of him, or else sowing the w orld with nice 
 and idle questions, and with much toil and difficulty 
 wading to his auditors up to the eyebrows in deep shal- 
 lows that wet not the instep : a plain unlearned man 
 that lives well by th<it light which he has, is better and 
 wiser, and edifies others more towards a godly and happy 
 life than he. The other is still using his sophisticated 
 arts, and bending all his studies how to make his in- 
 
 satiate avarice and ambition seem pious and ortliodoxal, 
 by painting his lewd and deceitful principles with a 
 smooth and glossy varnish in a doctrinal way, to bring 
 about his wickedest purposes. Instead of the great 
 harm therefore that these men fear upon the dissolving 
 of prelates, what an ease and happiness will it be to 
 us, when tempting rewards are taken away, that the 
 cunniugest and most dangerous mercenaries will cease 
 of themselves to frequent the fold, whom otherwise 
 scarce all the prayers of the faithful could have kept 
 back from devouring the flock ! But a true pastor of 
 Christ's sending hath this especial mark, that for great- 
 est labours and greatest merits in the church, he re- 
 quires cither nothing, if he could so subsist, or a very 
 common and reasonable supply of human necessaries : 
 we cannot therefore do better than to leave this care of 
 ours to God, he can easily send labourei-s into his har- 
 vest, that shall not cry. Give, give, but be contented 
 with a moderate and beseeming allowance ; nor w ill 
 he suflTer true learning to be wanting, where true grace 
 and our obedience to him abounds : for if he give us 
 to know him aright, and to practise this our knowledge 
 in right established discipline, how much more will he 
 replenish us with all abilities in tongues and arts, that 
 may conduce to his glory and our good ! He can stir 
 up rich fathers to bestow exquisite education upon their 
 children, and so dedicate them to the service of the 
 gospel ; he can make the sons of nobles his ministers, 
 and princes to be his Nazarites ; for certainly there is 
 no employment more honourable, more worthy to take 
 up a great spirit, more requiring a generous and free 
 nurture, than to be the messenger and herald of hea- 
 venly truth from God to man, and, by the faithful work 
 of holy doctrine, to procreate a number of faithful men, 
 making a kind of creation like to God's, by infusing 
 his spirit and likeness into them, to their salvation, as 
 God did into him ; arising to what climate soever he 
 turn him, like that Sun of righteousness that sent him, 
 with healing in his wingfs, and new light to break in 
 upon the chill and gloomy hearts of his hearers, raising 
 out of darksome barrenness a delicious and fragrant 
 spring of saving knowledge, and good works. Can a 
 man, thus employed, find himself discontented, or dis- 
 honoured for want of admittance to have a pragmatical 
 voice at sessions and jail deliveries ? Or because he 
 may not as a judge sit out the wrangling noise of li- 
 tigious courts to shrive the purses of unconfessing and 
 unmortified sinners, and not their souls, or be dis- 
 couraged though men call him not lord, whenas the 
 due performance of his office would gain him, even from 
 lords and princes, the voluntary title of father ? Would 
 he tug for a barony to sit and vote in parliament, know- 
 ing that no man can take from him the gift of wisdom 
 and sound doctrine, which leaves him free, though not 
 to be a member, yet a teacher and persuader of the par- 
 liament.' And in all wise apprehensions the persuasive 
 power in man to win others to goodness by instruction 
 is greater, and more divine, than the compulsive power 
 to restrain men from being evil by terrour of the law ; 
 and therefore Christ left Moses to be the lawgiver, but 
 himself came down amongst us to be a teacher, with 
 
REMONSTRANT'S DEFENCE, &c. 
 
 71 
 
 .which office his heavenly wisdom was so well pleased, 
 as that he was angry with those that would have put a 
 piece of temporal judicature into his hands, disclaim- 
 ing that he had any commission from above for such 
 matters. 
 
 Such a high calling therefore as this, sends not for 
 those drossy spirits that need the lure and whistle of 
 earthly preferment, like those animals that fetch and 
 carry for a morsel ; no. She can find such as therefore 
 study her precepts, because she teaches to despise pre- 
 ferment. And let not those wretched fathers think they 
 shall impoverish the church of willing and able supply, 
 thougli they keep back their sordid sperm, begotten in 
 the lustiness of their avarice, and turn them to their 
 malting kilns ; rather let them take heed what lessons 
 they instil into that lump of flesh which they are the 
 cause of; lest, thinking to offer him as a present to 
 God, they dish him out for the devil. Let the novice 
 learn first to renounce the world, and so give himself 
 to God, and not therefore give himself to God, that he 
 may close the better with the world, like that false 
 shepherd Palinode in the eclogue of May, under whom 
 the poet lively personates our prelates, whose whole life 
 is a recantation of their pastoral vow, and whose pro- 
 fession to forsake the world, as they use the matter, 
 bogs them deeper into the world. Those our admired 
 Spenser inveighs against, not without some presage of 
 these reforming times : 
 
 The time was once and may again return, 
 (For oft may happen that hath been beforn,) 
 When shepherds had none inheritance, 
 Ne of land nor fee in sufFerance, 
 But what might arise of the bare sheep, 
 (Were it more or less,) which they did keep. 
 Well ywis was it with shepherds tho, 
 Nought having, nought feared they to forego : 
 For Pan himself was their inheritance, 
 And little them served for their maintenance : 
 The shepherds God so well them guided. 
 That of nought they were unprovided. 
 Butter enough, honey, milk and whey. 
 And their flock fleeces them to array. 
 But tract of time, and long prosperity 
 ( That nurse of vice, this of insolency ) 
 Lulled the shepherds in such security. 
 That not content with loyal obeysance, 
 Some gan to gape for greedy governance. 
 And match themselves with mighty potenliite.s. 
 Lovers of lordships, and trouhlers of states. 
 Tho gan shepherds swains to looke aloft. 
 And leave to live hard, and learne to lig soft. 
 '1 ho under colour of shepherds some while 
 There crept in wolves full of fraud and giule, 
 That often devoured their own sheep. 
 And often the shepherd that did them keep. 
 This was the first source of shepherds sorrow, 
 That now nill be quit with bale, nor borrow. 
 
 By all this we may conjecture, how little we need 
 fear that the ungilding of our prelates will prove the 
 woodening of our priests. In the mean while let no 
 man caiTy 4n his head either such narrow or such evil 
 eyes, as not to look upon the churches of Belgia and 
 Helvetia, and that envied city Geneva r where in the 
 christian world doth learning more flourish than in 
 
 these places ? Not among your beloved Jesuits, nor 
 their favourers, though you take all the prelates into 
 the number, and instance in what kind of learning you 
 please. And how in England all noble sciences attend- 
 ing upon the train of christian doctrine may flourish 
 more than ever ; and how the able professors of every 
 art may with ample stipends be honestly provided ; 
 and finally, how there may be better care had that 
 their hearers may benefit by them, and all this without 
 the prelates ; the courses are so many and so easy, that 
 I shall pass them over. 
 
 Remonst. It is God that makes the bishop, the king 
 that gives the bishopric ; what can you say to this ? 
 
 Answ. What you shall not long stay for : we say it 
 is God that makes a hishoj), and the devil that makes 
 him take a prelatical bishopric ; as for the king's gift, 
 regal bounty may be excusable in giving, where the 
 bishop's covetousness is damnable in taking. 
 
 Remonst. Many eminent divines of the churches 
 abroad bare earnestly wished themselves iu our condi- 
 tion. 
 
 Answ. I cannot blame them, they were not only 
 eminent but supcremincnt divines, and for stomach 
 much like to Pompey the Great, that could endur* no 
 equal. 
 
 Remonst. The Babylonian note sounds well iu your 
 ears, *' Down with it, down with it, even to the ground." 
 
 Answ. You mistake the matter, it was the Edomitish 
 note ; but change it, and if you be an angel, cry w ith 
 the angel, " It is fallen, it is fallen." 
 
 Remonst. But the God of heaven will, we hope, 
 vindicate his own ordinance so long perpetuated to his 
 church. ' 
 
 Answ. Go rather to your god of this world, and sec 
 if he can vindicate your lordships, your temporal and 
 spiritual tyrannies, and all your pelf; for the God of 
 heaven is already come down to vindicate his ordinance 
 from your so long perpetuated usurpation. 
 
 Remonst. If yet you can blush. 
 
 Answ. This is a more Edomitish conceit than the 
 former, and must be silenced with a counter quip of the 
 same country. So often and so unsavourily has it beeu 
 repeated, that the reader may well cry, Down with it, 
 down with it, for shame. A man would think you had 
 eaten over-liberallyjof Esau's red porridge, and from 
 thence dream continually of blushing ; or perhaps, to 
 heighten your fancy in writing, are wont to sit in your 
 doctor's scarlet, which through your eyes infecting your 
 pregnant imaginative with a red suffusion, begets a 
 continual thought of blushing ; that you thus persecute 
 ingenuous men over all your book, with this one over- 
 tired rubrical conceit still of blushing : but if you have 
 no mercy upon them, yet spare yourself, lest you bejade 
 the good galloway, your own opiniatre wit, and make 
 the very conceit itself blush with spurgalling. 
 
 Remonst. The scandals of our inferiour ministers I 
 desired to have had less public. 
 
 Answ. And what your superiour archbishop or bi- 
 shops ! O forbid to have it told in Gath ! say you. O 
 dauber ! and therefore remove not impieties from Israel. 
 Constantino might have done more justly to have pu- 
 
72 
 
 ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE 
 
 iiislied those cicrgical faults which he could not conceal, 
 than to leave them unpunished, that they nii<^ht remain 
 concealed : better had it been for him, that the heathen 
 had heard the fame of his justice, than of his wilful 
 connivance and partiality ; and so the name of God 
 and his trutii had been less blasphemed among his 
 I enemies, and the clerg-y amended, which daily, by this 
 impunity, grew worse and worse. But, O to publish 
 in the streets of Ascalon ! sure some colony of puritans 
 have taken Ascalon from the Turk lately, that the Re- 
 monstrant is so afraid of Ascalon. The papists we 
 know condole you, and neither Constantinople nor 
 your neighbours o( Morocco trouble you. What other 
 Ascalon can you allude to? 
 
 Rcmonst. What a death it is to think of the sport 
 and advantage these watchful enemies, these opposite 
 spectators, will be sure to make of our sin and shame ! 
 
 Ausw. This is but to ding and struggle under the 
 inevitable net of God, that now begins to environ you 
 round. 
 
 Renionst. No one clergy in the whole christian world 
 yields so many eminent scholars, learned preachers, 
 grave, holy, and accomplished divines, as this church 
 of England doth at this day. 
 
 Answ. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 Remonst. And long, and ever may it thus flourish. 
 
 Answ. O pestilent imprecation ! flourish as it does 
 at tliis day in the prelates ? 
 
 Remonst. But O forbid to have it told in Gath ! 
 
 Answ. Forbid him rather, sacred parliament, to vio- 
 late the sense of Scripture, and turn that which is 
 spoken of the afllictions of the church under her pagan 
 enemies, to a pargetted concealment of those prelatical 
 crying sins : for from these is prophaneness gone forth 
 into all the land ; they have hid their eyes from the 
 sabbaths of the Lord ; they have fed themselves, and 
 not their flocks ; with force and cruelty have they ruled 
 over God's people: they have fed his sheep (contrary 
 to that which St. Peter writes) not of a ready mind, 
 but for filthy lucre ; not as examples to the flock, but 
 as being lords over God's heritage : and yet this dauber 
 would daub still with his untempered mortar. But 
 hearken what God says by the prophet Ezekiel, " Say 
 unto them that daub this wall with untempered mor- 
 tar, that it shall fall ; there shall be an overflowing 
 shower, and ye, O great hailstones, shall fall, and a 
 stormy wind shall rend it, and I will say unto you, the 
 wall is no more, neither they that daubed it." 
 
 Remonst. Whether of us shall give a better account 
 of our charity to the God of peace, I appeal. 
 
 Answ. Your charity is much to your fellow-ofl*enders, 
 but nothing to the numberless souls that have been 
 lost by their false feeding: use not therefore so sillily 
 the name of charity, as most commonly you do, and 
 the peaceful attribute of God to a preposterous end. 
 
 Remonst. In the next section, like illbred sons, you 
 s]»it in the face of your mother the church of England. 
 
 Answ. What should we do or say to tliis Remon- 
 strant, that by his idle and shallow reasonings, seems 
 to have been conversant in no divinity, but that which 
 is colourable to uphold bishoprics ? we acknowledge, 
 
 and believe, the catholic reformed church ; and if any 
 man be disposed to use a trope or figure, as St. Paul 
 did in calling her the common mother of us all, let him 
 do as his own rhetoric shall persuade him. If therefore 
 we must needs have a mother, and if the catholic church 
 only be, and must be she, let all genealogy tell us, if it 
 can, what we must call the church of England, unless 
 we shall make every English protestant a kind of 
 poetical Bacchus, to have two mothers : but mark, 
 readers, the crafty scope of these prelates ; they en- 
 deavour to impress deeply into weak and superstitious 
 fancies, the awful notion of a mother, that hereby thej 
 might cheat them into a blind and implicit obedience 
 to whatsoever they shall decree or think fit. And if 
 we come to ask a reason of aught from our dear mother, 
 she is invisible, under the lock and key of the prelates 
 her spiritual adulterers; they only are the internun- 
 cios, or the go-betweens, of this trim devised mummery: 
 whatsoever they say, she says must be a deadly sin of 
 disobedience not to believe. So that we, who by God's 
 special grace have shaken off" the servitude of a great 
 male tyrant, our pretended father the pope, should now, 
 if we be not betimes aware of these wily teachers, sink 
 under the slavery of a female notion, the cloudy con- 
 ception of a demy-island mother; and, while we think 
 to be obedient sons, should make ourselves rather the 
 bastards, or the centaurs of their spiritual fornications. 
 
 Remonst. Take heed of the ravens of the valley. 
 
 Answ. The ravens we are to take heed of are your- 
 selves, that would peck out the eyes of all knowing 
 Christians. 
 
 Remonst. Sit you merry, brethren. 
 
 Answ. So we shall when the furies of prelatical con- 
 sciences will not give them leave to do so. 
 
 Queries. Whether they would not jeopard their ears 
 rather, &c. 
 
 Answ. A punishment that awaits the merits of your 
 bold accomplices, for the lopping and stigmatizing of 
 so many freebom Christians. 
 
 Remonst. Whether the professed slovenliness in 
 God's service, &c. 
 
 Answ. We have beard of Aaron and his linen amice, 
 but those days are past; and for jour priest under the 
 gospel, that thinks himself the purer or the cleanlier 
 in his oflice for his new-washed surplice, we esteem him 
 for sanctity little better than ApoUonius Thyaneeus in 
 his white frock, or the priest of Isis in his lawn sleeves ; 
 and they may all for holiness lie together in the suds. 
 
 Remonst. Whether it were not most lawful and just 
 to punish your presumption and disobedience. 
 
 Answ. The punishing of that which you call our 
 presumption and disobedience, lies not now within the 
 execution of your fangs ; the merciful God above, and 
 our just parliament, will deliver us from your Ephesian 
 beasts, your cruel Nimrods, with whom we shall be 
 ever fearless to encounter. 
 
 Remonst. God give you wisdom to see the truth, and 
 grace to follow it. 
 
 Answ. I wish the like to all those that resist not the 
 Holy Ghost ; for of such God commands Jeremiah, 
 saying, " Pray not thou for them, neither lift up cry or 
 
REMONSTRANT'S DEFENCE, kc. 
 
 W 
 
 prayer for tlieni, neither make intercession to me, for 
 I will not hear thee;" and of such St. John saith, 
 " He that bids them God speed, is partaker of their evil 
 deeds." 
 
 TO THE POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 Remonst. a goodly pasquin borrowed for a great 
 part out of Sion's plea, or the breviate consisting of a 
 rhapsody of histories. 
 
 Answ. How wittily you tell us what your wonted 
 course is upon the like occasion : the collection was 
 taken, be it known to you, from as authentic authors 
 in this kind, as any in a bishop's library ; and the col- 
 lector of it says moreover, that if the like occasion 
 come again, he shall less need the help of brcviates, or 
 historical rhapsodies, than your reverence to eke out 
 your sermonings shall need repair to postils or pnlian- 
 tbeas. 
 
 Remonst. They were bishops, you say; true, but 
 they were popish bishops. 
 
 Answ. Since you would bind us to your jurisdiction 
 by their canon law, since you would enforce upon us 
 the old riffraff of Sarum, and other monastical reliqucs ; 
 since you live upon their unjust purchases, allege their 
 authorities, boast of their succession, walk in their 
 steps, their pride, their titles, their covetousness, their 
 persecuting of God's people ; since you disclaim their 
 actions, and build their sepulchres, it is most just that 
 all their faults should be imputed to you, and their ini- 
 quities visited upon you. 
 
 Remonst. Could you see no colleges, no hospitals 
 built ? 
 
 Answ. At that primero of piety, the pope and car- 
 dinals are the better gamesters, and will cog a die into 
 heaven before you. 
 
 Remonst. No churches re-edified .'' 
 
 Answ. Yes, more churches than souls. 
 
 Remonst. No learned volumes writ .'' 
 
 Answ. So did the miscreant bishop of Spalato write 
 learned volumes against the pope, and run to Rome 
 when he had done : ye write them in your closets, and 
 unwrite them in your courts; hot vohnnists and cold 
 bishops ; a swashbuckler against the pope, and a dor- 
 mouse against the devil, while the whole diocese be 
 sown with tares, and none to resist the enemy, but 
 such as let him in at the posteni ; a rare superintend- 
 ent at Rome, and a cipher at home. Hypocrites ! the 
 gospel faithfully preached to the poor, the desolate 
 parishes visited and duly fed, loiterers thrown out, 
 wolves driven from the fold, had been a better confuta- 
 tion of the pope and mass, than whole hecatontomes 
 of controversies ; and all this careering with spear in 
 rest, and thundering tipon the steel cap of Baronius or 
 Bellarmine. 
 
 Remonst. No seduced persons reclaimed ? 
 
 Answ. More reclaimed persons seduced. 
 
 Remonst. No hospitality kept.-* 
 
 Answ. Bacchanalias good store in every bishop's fa- 
 mily, and good glccking. 
 
 Remonst. No great oflenders punished ? 
 
 Answ. The trophies of your high commission are 
 renowned. 
 
 Remonst. No good offices done for the public ? 
 
 Answ. Yes, the good office of reducing monarchy t<) 
 tyranny, of breaking pficilications, and calumniating 
 the people to the king. 
 
 Remonst. No care of the peace of the church ? 
 
 Answ. No, nor of the land ; witness the two armit- s 
 in the North, that now lie plundered and overrun by a 
 liturgy. 
 
 Remonst. No diligence in preaching .' 
 
 Answ. Scarce any preaching at all. 
 
 Remonst No holiness in living ? 
 
 Answ. No. 
 
 Remonst. Truly, brethren, I can say no more, hut 
 that the fault is in your eyes. 
 
 .\nsw. If you can say no more than this, you were 
 a proper Remonstrant to stand up for the whole tribe ! 
 
 Remonst. Wipe them and look better. 
 
 Answ. Wipe your fat corpulencies out of our light. 
 
 Remonst. Yea, I beseech God to open them rather 
 that they may see good. 
 
 Answ. If you mean good prelates, let be your prayer. 
 Ask not impossibilities. 
 
 Remonst. As for that proverb, ' the bishop's foot hath 
 been in it,' it were more fit for a Scurra in Trivio, or 
 some ribald upon an alebench. 
 
 Answ. The fitter for them then of whom it was 
 meant. 
 
 Remonst. I doubt not but they will say, the bishop's 
 foot hath been in your book, for I am sure it is quite 
 spoiled by this just confutation ; for your proverb, 
 Sapit olhim. 
 
 Answ. Spoiled, quoth ye ? Indeed it is so spoiled, as 
 a good song is spoiled by a lewd singer ; or as the say- 
 ing is, " God sends meat, but the cooks work their 
 wills :" in that sense we grant your bishop's foot may 
 have spoiled it, and made it "Sapere ollam," if not 
 " Sapere aulam ;" which is the same in old Latin, and 
 perhaps in plain English. For certain your confuta- 
 tion hath achieved nothing against it, and left nothing 
 upon it but a foul taste of your skillet foot, and a more 
 perfect and distinguishable odour of your socks, than 
 of your nightcap. And how the bishop should confute 
 a book with his foot, unless his brains were dropped 
 into his great toe, I cannot meet with any man that 
 can resolve me ; only they tell me that certainly such 
 a confutation must needs be gouty. So much for the 
 bishop's foot. 
 
 Remonst. You tell us of Bonner's broth ; it is the 
 fashion in some countries to send in their keal in the 
 last service, and this it seems is the manner among our 
 Smectymnuans. 
 
 Answ. Your latter service at the hi<»-h altar you 
 mean : but soft, sir, the feast was but begun, the broth 
 was your own, you have been inviting the land to it 
 this fourscore years ; and so long we have been your 
 
74 
 
 ANIMADVERSIONS, «cc. 
 
 slaves lo serve it up for you, much agfainst our wills : 
 we know you have the beef to it, ready in your 
 kitchens, we are sure it was almost sod before this par- 
 liament begun ; what direction you have piven since 
 lo your cooks, to set it by in the pantry till some fitter 
 time, we know not, and therefore your dear jest is 
 lost ; this broth was but your first service : Alas, sir, 
 why do 30U delude your guests ? Why do not those 
 goodly flanks and briskets march up in your stately 
 chargers ? Doubtless if need be, the pope that owes 
 you for mollifying the matter so well with him, and 
 making him a true church, will furnish you with all 
 the fat oxen of Italy. 
 
 Renionst. Learned and worthy Doctor Moulin shall 
 tell them. 
 
 Answ. Moulin says in his book of the calling of 
 pastors, that because bishops were the reformers of the 
 English church, therefore they were left remaining : 
 this argument is but of small force to keep you in your 
 cathedrals. For first it may be denied that bishops 
 were our first reformers, for Wickliflf was before them, 
 and his egregious laboui's are not to be neglected : be- 
 sides, our bishops were in this work but the disciples 
 of priests, and began the reformation before they were 
 bishops. But what though Luther and other monks 
 were the reformers of other places ? Does it follow 
 therefore that monks ought to continue ? No, though 
 Luther had taught so. And lastly, Moulin's argument 
 directly makes against you ; for if there be nothing in 
 
 it but this, bishops were left remaining because they 
 were reformers of the church, by as good a consequence 
 therefore they are now to be removed, because they 
 have been the most certain deformers and miners of 
 the church. Thus you see how little it avails you to 
 take sanctuary among those churches which in the 
 general scope of your actions formerly you have dis- 
 regarded and despised ; however, your fair words would 
 now smooth it over otherwise. 
 
 Remonst. Our bishops, some whereof being crowned 
 with martyrdom, subscribed the gospel with their 
 blood. 
 
 Answ. You boast much of martyrs to uphold your 
 episcopacy ; but if you would call to mind what Euse- 
 bius in his fifth book recites from Apollinarius of 
 Hierapolis, you should then hear it esteemed no other 
 than an old heretical argument, to prove a position 
 true, because some that held it were martyrs ; this was 
 that which gave boldness to the Marcionists and Cata- 
 phryges to avouch their impious heresies for pious 
 doctrine, because they could reckon many martyrs of 
 their sect; and when they were confuted in other 
 points, this was ever their last and stoutest plea. 
 
 Remonst. In the mean time I beseech the God of 
 heaven to humble you. 
 
 Answ. We shall beseech the same God to gfive you a 
 more profitable and pertinent humiliation than yet you 
 know, and a less mistaken charitableness, with that 
 peace which you have hitherto so perversely misaffected. 
 
AN 
 
 APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS 
 
 [riRIT POBLItBU) imZ.] 
 
 If, readers, to that same great difficulty of well-doing 
 what we certainly know, were not added in most men 
 as great a carelessness of knowing what they and 
 others ought to do, we had been long ere this, no doubt 
 but all of us, much farther on our way to some degree 
 of peace and happiness in this kingdom. But since 
 our sinful neglect of practising that which we know to 
 be undoubtedly true and good, hath brought forth 
 among us, through God's just anger, so great a diffi- 
 culty now to know that which otherwise might be soon 
 learnt, and hath divided us by a controversy of great 
 importance indeed, but of no hard solution, which is 
 the more our punishment ; I resolved (of what small 
 moment soever I might be thought) to stand on that 
 side where I saw both the plain authority of Scripture 
 leading, and the reason of justice and equity persuad- 
 ing ; with this opinion, which esteems it more unlike a 
 Christian to be a cold neuter in the cause of the church, 
 than the law of Solon made it punishable after a sedi- 
 tion in the state. And because I observe that fear and 
 dull disposition, lukewarmness and sloth, arc not sel- 
 domer wont to cloak themselves under the affected 
 name of moderation, than true and lively zeal is cus- 
 tomably disparaged with the term of indiscretion, 
 bitterness, and choler ; I could not to my thinking 
 honour a good cause more from the heart, than by de- 
 fending it earnestly, as oft as I could judge it to behove 
 me, notwitiistanding any false name that could be in- 
 vented to wrong or under-value an honest meaning. 
 Wherein although I have not doubted to single forth 
 more tlian once such of them as were thought the 
 chief and most nominated opposers on the other side, 
 whom no man else undertook ; if I have done well 
 either to be confident of the truth, whose force is best 
 seen against the ablest resistance, or to be jealous and 
 tender of the hurt that might be done among the 
 weaker l)y the intrapping authority of great names 
 titled to false opinions ; or that it be lawful to attribute 
 somewhat to gifts of God's imparting, which I boast 
 not, but thankfully acknowledge, and fear also lest at 
 my certain account they be reckoned to me rather many 
 
 than few ; or if lastly it be but justice not to defraud 
 of due esteem the wearisome labours and studious 
 watchings, wherein I have spent and tired out almost 
 a whole youth, I shall not distrust to be acquitted of 
 presumption : knowing, that if heretofore all ages have 
 received with favour and good acceptance the early in- 
 dustry of him that hath been hopeful, it were but hard 
 measure now, if the freedom of any timely spirit should 
 be oppressed merely by the big and blunted fame of 
 his elder adversary; and that his sufficiency must be 
 now sentenced, not by pondering the reason he shews, 
 but by calculating the years he brings. However, as 
 my purpose is not, nor hath been formerly, to look 
 on my adversary abroad, through the deceiving 
 glass of other men's great opinion of him, but at 
 home, where I may find him in the proper light of 
 his own worth ; so now against the rancour of an 
 evil tongue, from which I never thought so absurdly, 
 as that I of all men should be exempt, I must be 
 forced to proceed from the unfeigned and diligent 
 inquiry of my own conscience at home, (for better 
 way I know not, readers,) to give a more true ac- 
 count of mj'self abroad than this modest confuter, as 
 he calls himself, hath given of me. Albeit, that in 
 doing this I shall be sensible of two things which to 
 me will be nothing pleasant ; the one is, that not un- 
 likely I shall be thought too much a party in mine own 
 cause, and therein to see least : the other, that I shall 
 be put unwillingly to molest the public view with the 
 vindication of a private name ; as if it were worth the 
 while that the people should care whether such a one 
 were thus, or thus. Yet those I entreat who have 
 found the leisure to read that name, however of small 
 repute, unworthily defamed, would be so good and 
 so patient as to hear the same person not unneedfully 
 defended. I will not deny but that the best apology 
 against false accusers is silence and sufferance, and 
 honest deeds set against dishonest words. And that I 
 could at this time most easily and securely, with the 
 least loss of reputation, use no other defence, I need 
 not despair to win belief; whether I consider both the 
 
76 
 
 AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 foolish contriving' and riiliculous aiming- of these his 
 slanderous bolts, shot so wide of imy suspicion to be 
 fastened on me, that I have oft with inward content- 
 ment perceived my friends congratulating themselves 
 in my innocence, and my enemies ashamed of their 
 partner's folly : or whether I look at these prcsetit 
 times, wherein most men, now scarce permitted the 
 liberty to think over their own concernments, have re- 
 moved the seat of their thoughts more outward to the ex- 
 pectation of public events : or whether the examples 
 of men, either noble or religious, who have sat down 
 lately with a meek silence and suflTerance under many 
 libellous endorsements, may be a rule to others, I 
 might well appease myself to put up any reproaches in 
 such an honourable society of fellow-sufferers, using no 
 other defence. And were it that slander would be con- 
 tent to make an end where it first fixes, and not seek 
 to cast out the like infamy upon each thing that hath 
 but any relation to the person traduced, I should have 
 pleaded against this confuter by no other advocates 
 than those which I first commended, silence and suf- 
 ferance, and speaking deeds against faltering words. 
 But when I discerned his intent was not so much to 
 smite at me, as through me to render odious the truth 
 which I had written, and to stain with ignominy that 
 evangelic doctrine which opposes the tradition of prc- 
 laty ; I conceived myself to be now not as mine own 
 person, but as a member incorporate into that truth 
 whereof I was persuaded, and whereof I had declared 
 openly to be a partaker. Whereupon I thought it my 
 duty, if not to myself, yet to the religious cause I had 
 in hand, not to leave on my garment the least spot or 
 blemish in good name, so long as God should give me 
 to say that which might wipe it off. Lest those dis- 
 graces, which I ought to suffer, if it so befall nie, for 
 my religion, through my default religion be made 
 liable to suffer for me. And, whether it might not 
 something reflect upon those reverent men, whose 
 friend I may be thought in writing the Animadver- 
 sions, was not my last care to consider ; if I should 
 rest under these reproaches, having the same common 
 adversary with them, it might be counted small credit 
 for their cause to have found such an assistant, as this 
 babbler hath devised me. What other thing in his 
 book there is of dispute or question, in answering 
 thereto I doubt not to be justified ; except there be 
 who will condemn me to have wasted time in throwing 
 down that which could not keep itself up. As for 
 others, who notwithstanding what I can allege have 
 yet decreed to misinterpret the intents of my reply, I 
 suppose they would have found as many causes to have 
 misconceived the reasons of my silence. 
 
 To begin therefore an apology for those animadver- 
 sions, which I writ against the Remonstrant in defence 
 of Smectymnuus; since the preface, which was pur- 
 posely set before them, is not thought apologetical 
 enough, it will be best to acquaint ye, rc.iders, before 
 other things, what the meaning was to write them in 
 that manner which I did. For I do not look to be 
 nsked wherefore I writ the book, it being no difficulty 
 
 to answer, that I did it to those ends, which the best 
 men propose to themselves when they write : but 
 wherefore in that manner, neglecting the main bulk of 
 all that specious antiquity, which might stun children, 
 and not men, I chose rather to observe some kind of 
 military advantages to await him at his foragings, at 
 his waterings, and whenever he felt himself secure, to 
 solace his vein in derision of his more serious oppo- 
 nents. And here let me have pardon, readers, if the 
 remembrance of that which he hath licensed himself to 
 utter contemptuously of those reverend men, provoke 
 me to do that over again, which some expect I should 
 excuse as too freely done ; since I have two provoca- 
 tions, his latest insulting in his short answer, and their 
 final patience. I had no fear, but that the authors of 
 Smectymnuus, to all the shew of solidity, which the 
 Remonstrant could bring, were prepared both with 
 skill and purpose to return a sufficing answer, and 
 were able enough to lay the dust and pudder in anti- 
 quity, which he and his, out of stratagem, arc wont to 
 raise; but when I saw his weak arguments headed 
 with sharp taunts, and that his design was, if he could 
 not refute them, yet at least with quips and snapping 
 adages to vapour them out, which they, bent only upon 
 the business, were minded to let pass ; by how much I 
 saw them taking little thought for their own injuries, 
 I must confess I took it as my part the less to endure 
 that my respected friends, through their own unneces- 
 sary patience, should thus lie at the mercy of a coy 
 flirting style; to be girded with frumps and curtal 
 gibes, by one who makes sentences by the statute, as 
 if all above three inches long were confiscate. To me 
 it seemed an indignity, that whom his whole wisdom 
 could not move from their place, them his impetuous 
 folly should presume to ride over. And if I were more 
 warm than was meet in any passage of that book, 
 which yet I do not yield, I might use therein the 
 patronage of no worse an author than Grcirory Nyssen, 
 who mentioning his sharpness against Eunomius in 
 the defence of his brother Basil, holds himself iiTC- 
 provable in that " it was not for himself, but in the 
 cause of his brother; and in such cises," saith he, 
 " perhaps it is worthier pardon to be angry than to be 
 cooler." And whereas this confuter taxes the whole 
 discourse of levit}', I shall shew ye, readers, where- 
 soever it shall be objected in particular, that I have an- 
 swered with as little lightness as the Remonstrant hath 
 given example. I have not been so light as the palm 
 of a bishop, which is the lightest thing in the world 
 when he brings out his book of ordination : for then, 
 contrary to that which is wont in releasing out of 
 prison, any one that will pay his fees is laid hands on. 
 Another reason, it would not be amiss though the 
 Remonstrant were told, wherefore he was in that un- 
 usual manner beleaguered ; and this was it, to pluck 
 out of the heads of his admirers the conceit that all who 
 are not prclatical, are gross-hcadcd, thick-witted, illi- 
 terate, shallow. Can nothing then but episcopacy teach 
 men to speak good English, to ])ick and order a set of 
 words judiciously ? Must we learn from canons and 
 quaint sermonings, interlined with barbarous Latin, to 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 77 
 
 illumine a period, to wreath an enthymema with mas- 
 terous dexterity ? I rather incline, as I have heard it 
 observed,that a Jesuit's Italian when he writes, is ever 
 naught, though he be bom and bred a Florentine, so 
 to think, that from like causes we may go near to ob- 
 serve the same in the style of a prelate. For doubtless^ 
 that indeed according to art is most eloquent^ which 
 turns and approaches nearest to nature from whence it 
 came ; and they exj)ress nature best, who in their lives/ 
 least wander from her safe leading, which may be called 
 regenerate reason. So that how he should be truly 
 eloquent who is not withal a good man, I see not. 
 Nevertheless, as oft as is to be dealt with men who 
 pride themselves in their supposed art, to leave them 
 inexcusable wherein they will not be bettered ; there 
 be of those that esteem prelaty a figment, who yet can 
 pipe if they can dance, nor will be unfurnished to shew, 
 that what the prelates admire and have not, others have 
 and admire not. The knowledge whereof, and not of 
 that only, but of what the Scripture teacheth us how 
 we ought to withstand the perverters of the gospel, 
 were those other motives, which gave the Animadver- 
 sions no leave to remit a continual vehemence through- 
 out the book. For as in teaching doubtless the spirit 
 of meekness is most powerful, so are the meek only fit 
 persons to be taught : as for the proud, the obstinate, 
 and false doctors of men's devices, be taught they will 
 not, but discovered and laid open they must be. For 
 how can they admit of teaching, who have the condem- 
 nation of God already upon them for refusing divine 
 instruction .'* That is, to be filled with their own de- 
 vices, as in the Proverbs we may read : therefore we 
 may safely imitate the method that God uses ; " with 
 the frovvard to be froward, and to throw scorn upon the 
 scoruer," whom, if any thing, nothing else will heal. 
 And if the " righteous shall laugh at the destruction 
 of the ungodly," they may also laugh at the pertinacious 
 and incurable obstinacy, and at the same time be moved 
 with detestation of their seducing malice, who employ 
 all their wits to defend a prelaty usurped, and to de- 
 prave tliat just government, which pride and ambition, 
 partly by fine fetches and pretences, partly by force, 
 hath shouldered out of the church. And against such 
 kind of deceivers openly and earnestly to protest, lest 
 any one should be inquisitive wherefore this or that man 
 is forwarder than others, let him know that this office 
 goes not by age or youth, but to whomsoever God shall 
 give apparently the will, the spirit, and the utterance. 
 Ye have heard the reasons for which I thought not 
 myself exempted from associating with good men in 
 their labours towards the church's welfare; to which, 
 if any one broutjht opposition, I brought my best re- 
 sistance. If in requital of this, and for that I have not 
 been negligent toward the reputation of my friends, I 
 have gained a name bestuck, or as I may say, bedecked 
 with the reproaches and revilesof this modest confuter; 
 it shall be to me neither strange nor unwelcome, as that 
 which could not come in a better time. 
 
 Having rendered an account what induced me to 
 write those animadversions in that manner as I writ 
 them, I come now to see what the confutation bath to 
 
 say against them ; but so as the confuter shall hear first 
 what T have to say against his confutation. And be- 
 cause he pretends to be a great conjector at other men 
 by their writings, I will not fail to give ye, readers, a 
 present taste of him from his title, hung out like a toll- 
 ing sign post to call passengers, not simply a confuta- 
 tion, but " a modest cotifutation," with a laudatory of 
 itself obtruded in the very first word. Whereas a 
 modest title should only inform the buyer what the book 
 contains without further insinuation ; this officious epi- 
 thet so hastily assuming the modesty which others are 
 to judge of by reading, not the author to anticipate to 
 himself by forestalling, is a strong presumption, that 
 his modesty, set there to sale in the frontispiece, is not 
 much addicted to blush. A surer sign of his lost shame 
 he could not have given, than seeking thus unseason- 
 ably to prepossess men of his modesty. And seeing he 
 hath neither kept his word in the sequel, nor omitted 
 any kind of boldness in slandering, it is manifest his 
 purpose was only to rub the forehead of his title with 
 this word modest, that he might not want colour to be 
 the more impudent throughout his whole confutation. 
 Next, what can equally savour of injustice and plain 
 arrogance, as to prejudice and foreconderan his adver- 
 sary in the title for " slanderous and scurrilous," and 
 as the Remonstrant's fashion is, for frivolous, tedious, 
 and false, not staying till the reader can hear him 
 proved so in the following discourse? Which is one 
 cause of a suspicion that in setting forth this pamphlet 
 the Remonstrant was not unconsulted with : thus his 
 first address was " an humble remonstrance by a dutiful 
 son of the church," almost an if be had said, her white- 
 boy. His next was, " a defence" (a wonder how it 
 escaped some praising adjunct) " against the frivolous 
 and false exceptions against Smectymnuus," sitting in 
 the chair of his title-page upon his poor cast adversaries 
 both as a judge and party, and that before the jury of 
 readers can be impannelied. His last was " a short 
 answer to a tedious vindication ;" so little can he suffer 
 a man to measure either with his eye or judgment, 
 what is short or what tedious, without his preoccupying 
 direction : and from hence is begotten this " modest 
 confutation against a slanderous and scurrilous libel." 
 I conceive, readers, much may be guessed at the man 
 and his hook, what depth there is, by the framing of 
 his title ; which being in this Remonstrant so rash and 
 unadvised as ye see, I conceit him to be near akin to 
 him who set forth a passion sermon with a formal dedi- 
 catory in great letters to our Saviour. Although I 
 know that all we do ought to begin and end in his 
 praise and glory, yet to inscribe him in a void place 
 with flourishes, as a man in compliment uses to trick 
 up the name of some esquire, gentleman, or lord para- 
 mount at common law, to be his book-patron, with the 
 appendant form of a ceremonious presentment, will 
 ever appear among the judicious to be but an insulse 
 and frigid affectation. As no less was that before bis 
 book against the Brownists, to write a letter to a Pro- 
 sopopoeia, a certain rhetorized woman whom he calls 
 mother, and complains of some that laid whoredom to 
 her charge; and certainly bad he folded his epistle 
 
78 
 
 AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 with a superscription to be delivered to that female 
 figure by any post or carrier, who were not a ubiquitary, 
 it had been a most miraculous g"reetin{f. We find tiie 
 primitive doctors, as oft as they writ to churches, 
 speaking' to them as to a number of faithful brethren 
 and sons, and not to make a cloudy transmigration of 
 sexes in such a familiar way of writing as an epistle 
 ought to be, leaving the tract of common address, to 
 run up, and tread the air in metaphorical compellations, 
 and many fond utterances better let alone. But I step 
 again to this emblazoner of his titlepage, (whether it 
 be the same man or no, I leave it in the midst,) and 
 here I find him pronouncing without reprieve, those 
 animadversions to be a slanderous and scurrilous libel. 
 To which I, readers, that they are neither slanderous, 
 nor scurrilous, will answer in what place of his book 
 he shall be found with reason, and not ink only, in his 
 mouth. Nor can it be a libel more than his own, 
 which is both nameless and full of slanders ; and if in 
 this that it freely .<:peaks of things amiss in religion, 
 but established by act of state, I see not how Wickliff 
 and Luther, with all the first martyrs and reformers, 
 could avoid the imputation of libelling. I never 
 thought the human frailty of erring in cases of religion, 
 infamy to a state, no more than to a council: it had 
 therefore been neither civil nor christianly, to derogate 
 the honour of the state for that cause, especially when 
 I saw the parliament itself piously and magnani- 
 mously bent to supply and reform the defects and 
 oversights of their forefathers, which to the godly and 
 repentant ages of the Jews were often matter of humble 
 confessing and bewailing, not of confident asserting 
 and maintaining. Of the state therefore I found good 
 reason to speak all honourable things, and to join in 
 petition witii good men that petitioned : but against 
 the prelates, who were the only seducers and misleaders 
 of the state to constitute the government of the church 
 not rightly, methought I had not vehemence enough. 
 And thus, readers, by the example which he hath set 
 me, I have given ye two or three notes of him out of 
 his titlepage ; by which his firstlings fear not to guess 
 boldly at his whole lump, for that guess will not fail 
 ye ; and although I tell him keen truth, yet he may 
 bear with me, since I am like to chase him into some 
 good knowledge, and others, I trust, shall not mispend 
 their leisure. For this my aim is, if I am forced to be 
 unpleasing to him whose fault it is, I shall not forget 
 at the same time to be useful in something to the 
 stander-by. 
 
 As therefore he began in the title, so in the next leaf 
 he makes it his first business to tamper with his reader 
 by sycophanting and misnaming the work of bis adver- 
 sary. He calls it " a mime thrust forth upon the stage, 
 to make up the breaches of those solemn scenes between 
 the prelates and the Smectymnuans." Wherein while 
 he is so over-greedy to fix a name of ill sound upon 
 another, note how stupid he is to expose himself or his 
 own friends to the same ignominy ; likening those 
 g^ave controversies to a piece of stagery, or scenework, 
 where his own Remonstrant, whether in buskin or sock, 
 must of all right be counted the chief player, be it 
 
 boasting Thraso, or Davus that troubles all things, or 
 one who can shift into any shape, I meddle not ; let 
 him explicate who hath resembled the whole argument 
 to a comedy, for " tragical," he says, " were too omin- 
 ous." Nor yet doth he tell us what a mime is, whereof 
 we have no pattern from ancient writers, except some 
 fragments, which contain many acute and wise sen- 
 tences. And this we know in Laertius, that the mimes 
 of Sophron were of such reckoning with Plato, as to 
 take them nightly to read on, and after make them 
 his pillow. Scaliger describes a mime to be a poem 
 intimating any action to stir up laughter. But this 
 being neither poem, nor yet ridiculous, how is it but 
 abusively taxed to be a mime ? For if every book, which 
 may by chance excite to laugh here and there, must be 
 termed thus, then may the dialogues of Plato, who for 
 those his writings hath obtained the surname of divine, 
 be esteemed as they are by that detractor in Athenaeus, 
 no better than mimes. Because there is scarce one of 
 them, especially wherein some notable sophister lies 
 sweating and turmoiling under the inevitable and 
 merciless dilemmas of Socrates, but that he who reads, 
 were it Saturn himself, would be often robbed of more 
 than a smile. And whereas he tells us, that " scunilous 
 Mime was a personated grim lowering fool," bis foolish 
 language unwittingly writes fool upon his own friend, 
 for he who was there personated was only the Remon- 
 strant ; the author is ever distinguished from the person 
 he introduces. But in an ill hour hath this unfortunate 
 rashness stumbled upon the mention of miming, that 
 he might at length cease, which be hath not yet since 
 he stepped in, to gall and hurt him whom he would 
 aid. Could he not beware, could he not bethink him, 
 was he so uucircumspect as not to foresee, that no 
 sooner would that word mime be set eye on in the 
 paper, but it would bring to mind that wretched pil- 
 grimage over Minsbew's dictionary called " Mundus 
 alter et idem," the idlest and the paltriest mime that ever 
 mounted upon bank ? Let him ask " the author of 
 those toothless satires," who was the maker, or rather 
 the anticreator of that universal foolery, who he was, 
 who like that other principal of the Manichees the 
 arch evil one, when he had looked upon all that he 
 had made and mapped out, could say no other but 
 contrary to the divine mouth, that it was all very 
 foolish. That grave and noble invention, which the 
 greatest and sublimest wits in sundry ages, Plato in 
 Critias, and our two famous countrymen, the one in 
 his " Utopia," the other in his " New Atlantis," chose^ 
 I may not say as a field, but as a mighty continent, 
 wherein to display the largeness of their spirits, by 
 teaching this our world better and exacter things 
 than were yet known or used : this petty prevari- 
 cator of America, the zany of Columbus, (for so he 
 must be till his world's end,) having rambled over 
 the huge topography of his own vain thoughts, no 
 marvel if he brought us home nothing but a mere tan- 
 kartl drollery, a venereous parjetory for stews. Cer- 
 tainly, he that could endure with a sober pen to sit and 
 devise laws for drunkards to carouse by, I doubt me 
 whether the very soberness of such a one, like an un- 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 79 
 
 liquored Silenus, were not stark drunk. Let him go 
 now and brand another man injuriously with the name 
 of Mime, being himself the loosest and most extrava- 
 gant Mime that hath been heard of, whom no less than 
 almost half the world could serve for stage-room to play 
 the Mime in. And let him advise again with sir Francis 
 Bacon, whom he cites to confute others, what it is " to 
 turn the sins of Christendom into a mimical mockery, 
 to rip up the saddest vices with a laughing counte- 
 nance," especially where neither reproof nor better 
 teaching is adjoined. Nor is my meaning, readers, to 
 shift off a blame from myself, by charging the like 
 upon my accuser, but shall only desire, that sentence 
 may be respited, till I can come to some instance 
 whereto I may give answer. 
 
 Thus having spent his first onset, not in confuting, 
 but in a reasonless defaming of the book, the method 
 of his malice hurries him to attempt the like against 
 the author ; not by proofs and testimonies, but " having 
 no certain notice of me," as he professes, " further than 
 what he gathers from the animadversions," blunders at 
 me for the rest, and flings out stray crimes at a ven- 
 ture, which he could never, though he be a serpent, 
 suck from any thing that I have written, but from his 
 own stuffed magazine, and hoard of slanderous inven- 
 tions, over and above that which he converted to venom 
 in the drawing. To me, readers, it happens as a sin- 
 gular contentment ; Jind lit it be to good men no light 
 satisfaction, that the slanderer here confesses, he has 
 " no further notice of me than his own conjecture." 
 Although it had been honest to have inquired, before 
 he uttered such infamous words, and I am credibly in- 
 formed he did inquire; but finding small comfort from 
 the intelligence which he received, whereon to ground 
 the falsities which he had provided, thought it his 
 likeliest course under a pretended ignorance to let 
 drive at random, lest he should lose his odd ends, which 
 from some penurious book of charactei's he had been 
 culling out and would fain apply. Not caring to bur- 
 den me with tiiose vices, whereof, among whom my 
 conversation hath been, I have been ever least sus- 
 pected ; perhaps not without some subtlety to cast me 
 into envy, by bringing on me a necessity to enter into 
 mine own praises. In which argument I know every 
 wise man is more tinwillingly drawn to speak, than the 
 most repining car can be averse to hear. Nevertheless, 
 since I dare not wish to pass this life unpersecuted of 
 slanderous tongues, for God hath told us that to be ge- 
 nerally praised is woeful, I shall rely on his promise 
 to free the innocent from causeless aspersions : whereof 
 nothing sooner can assure me, than if I shall feel him 
 now assisting me in the just vindication of myself, 
 which yet I could defer, it being more meet, thut to 
 those other matters of public debatement in this book 
 I should give attendance first, but that I fear it would 
 but harm the truth for me to reason in her behalf, so 
 long as I should suffer my honest estimation to He un- 
 purged from these insolent suspicions. And if I shall 
 be large, or unwonted in justifying myself to those who 
 know me not, for else it would be needless, let them 
 consider that a short slander will oft-times reach fui- 
 
 ther than a long apology; and that he who will do 
 justly to all men, must begin from knowinghow, if it so 
 happen, to be not unjust to himself. I must be thought, 
 if this libeller (for now he shews himself to be so) can find 
 belief, after an inordinate and riotous youth spent at 
 the university, to have been at length " vomited out 
 thence." For which commodious lie, that he may be 
 encouraged in the trade another time, I thank him ; 
 for it hath given me an apt occasion to acknowledge 
 publicly with all grateful mind, that more than ordi- 
 nary favour and respect, which I found above any of 
 my equals at the hands of those courteous and learned 
 men, the fellows of that college wherein I spent some 
 years : who at my parting, after I had taken two de- 
 grees, as the manner is, signified many ways, how 
 much better it would content them that I would stay ; 
 as by many letters full of kindness and loving respect, 
 both before that time, and long after, I was assured of 
 their singular good affection towards me. Which being 
 likewise propcnse to all such as were for their studious 
 and civil life worthy of esteem, I could not wrong their 
 judgments, and upright intentions, so much as to think 
 I had that regard from them for other cause, than that 
 I might be still encouraged to proceed in the honest 
 and laudable courses, of which they apprehended I had 
 given good proof. And to those ingenuous and friendly 
 men, who were ever the countenancers of virtuous and 
 hopeful wits, I wish the best and happiest things, that 
 friends in absence wish one to another. As for the com- 
 mon approbation or dislike of that place, as now it is, 
 that I should esteem or disesteem myself, or any other 
 the more for that ; too simple and too credulous is the 
 confuter, if he think to obtain with me, or any right 
 discemer. Of small practice were that physician, who 
 could not judge by what both she or her sister hath 
 of long time vomited, that the worscr stuff she strongly 
 keeps in her stomach, but the better she is ever keck- 
 ing at, and is queasy. She vomits now out of sickness; 
 but ere it will be well with her, she must vomit by 
 strong physic. In the mean time that suburb sink, as 
 this rude scavenger calls it, and more than scurrilously 
 taunts it with the plague, having a worse plague in his 
 middle entrail, that suburb wherein I dwell shall be 
 in my account a more honourable place than his uni- 
 versity. Which as in the time of her better health, 
 and mine own younger judgment, I never greatly ad- 
 mired, so now much less. But he follows me to the 
 city, still usurping and forging beyond his book notice, 
 which only he affirms to have had ; " and where my 
 morning haunts are, he wisses not." It is wonder, 
 that being so rare an alchymist of slander, he could 
 not extract that, as well as the university vomit, 
 and the suburb sink which his art could distil so cun- 
 ningly ; but because his limbec fails him, to give 
 him and envy the more vexation, I will tell him. 
 Those morning haunts are where they should be, 
 at home ; not sleeping, or concocting the surfeits 
 of an irregular feast, but up and stirring, in winter 
 often ere the sound of any bell awake men to labour, 
 or to devotion ; in summer as oft with the bird that 
 first rouses, or not much tardier, to read good au- 
 
M 
 
 AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 thors, or cause them to be read, till the attention he 
 weary, or memory have its full fraught : then with use- 
 ful and generous labours preserving the body's health 
 and hardiness to render lightsome, cleai, and not lump- 
 ish obedience to the mind, to the cause of religion, and 
 our country's liberty, when it shall require firm hearts 
 in sound bodies to stand and cover their stations, rather 
 than to see the ruin of our protestation, and the inforce- 
 ment of a slavish life. These are the morning prac- 
 tices : proceed now to the afternoon ; " in playhouses," 
 be says, " and the bordelloes." Your intelligence, 
 unfaithful spy of Canaan ? He gives in his evidence, 
 that " there he hath traced me." Take him at his 
 word, readers, but let him bring good sureties ere ye 
 dismiss him, that while he pretended to dog others, he 
 did not turn in for his own pleasure : for so much in 
 effect he concludes against himself, not contented to be 
 caught in every other gin, but he must be such a 
 novice, as to be still hampered in bis own hemp. In 
 the animadversions, saith he, I find the mention of old 
 cloaks, false beards, nightwalkers, and salt lotion ; 
 therefore the animadverter haunts playhouses and bor- 
 delloes ; for if he <lid not, how could he speak of such 
 gear.'* Now that he may know what it is to be a child, 
 and yet to meddle with edged tools, I turn his antistro- 
 phon upon his own head ; the confuter knows that these 
 things are the furniture of playhouses and bordelloes, 
 therefore by the same reason " the confuter himself 
 hath been traced in those places." Was it such a dis- 
 solute speech, telling of some politicians who were 
 wont to eavesdrop in disguises, to say they were often 
 liable to a nightwalking cudgeller, or the emptjing of 
 a urinal ? What if I had writ as your friend the author 
 of the aforesaid mime, " Mundus alter et idem," to 
 have been ravished like some young Cephalus or Hy- 
 las, by a troop of camping housewifes in Viraginea, and 
 that he was there forced to swear himself an uxorious 
 varlet ; then after a long servitude to have come into 
 Aphrodisia that pleasant country, that gave such a 
 sweet smell to his nostrils among the shameless cour- 
 tezans of Desvergonia ? Surely he would have then 
 concluded me as constant at the bordello, as the galley- 
 slave at his oar. But since there is such necessity to 
 the hearsay of a tire, a periwig, or a vizard, that plays 
 must have been seen, what difficulty was there in that.'* 
 when in the colleges so many of the young divines, 
 and those in next aptitude to divinity, have been seen 
 so often upon the stage, writhing and unboning their 
 clergy limbs to all the antic and dishonest gestures of 
 Trinculoes, buffoons, and b.awds; prostituting the shame 
 of that ministry, which either they had, or were nigh 
 having, to the eyes of courtiers and court ladies, with 
 their grooms and mademoiselles. There while they 
 acted and overacted, among other young scholars, I 
 was a spectator; they thought themselves gallant men, 
 and I thought them fools ; they made sport, and I 
 laughed ; they mispronounced, and I mislikod ; and to 
 make up the atticism, they were out, and I hissed. 
 Judge now whether so many good text-men were not 
 sufficient to instruct me of false beards and vizards, 
 without more expositors ; and bow can this confuter 
 
 take the face to object to me the seeing of that, which 
 his reverend prelates allow, and incite their young dis- 
 ciples to act? For if it be unlawful to sit and behold a 
 mercenary comedian personating that which is least 
 unseemly for a hireling to do, how much more blame- 
 ful is it to endure the sight of as vile things acted by 
 persons either entered, or presently to enter into the 
 ministry ; and how much more foul and ignominious 
 for them to be the actors ! 
 
 But because as well by this upbraiding to me the 
 bordelloes, as by other suspicious glancings in his hook, 
 he would seem privily to point me out to his readers, 
 as one whose custom of life were not honest, but licen- 
 tious; I shall intreat to be born with, though I digress; 
 and in a way not often trod, acquaint ye with the sum 
 of my thoughts in this matter, through the course of 
 my years and studies. Although I am not ignorant 
 how hazardous it will be to do this under the nose of 
 the envious, as it were in skirmish to change the com- 
 pact order, and instead of outward actions, to bring 
 inmost thoughts into front. And I must tell ye, read- 
 ers, that by this sort of men I have been already bitten 
 at ; yet shall they not for me know how slightly they 
 are esteemed, unless they have so much learning as to 
 read what in Greek airttpoKoXia is, which, together with 
 envy, is the common disease of those who censure books 
 that are not for their reading. With me it fares now, 
 as with him whose outward gaiinent hath been injured 
 and illbedighted ; for having no other shift, what help 
 but to turn the inside outwards, especially if the lining 
 be of the same, or, as it is sometimes, much better.'* So 
 if my name and outward demeanour be not evident 
 enough to defend me, I must make trial, if the discovery 
 of my inmost thoughts can : wherein of two purposes 
 both honest, and both sincere, the one perhaps I shall 
 not miss ; although I fail to gain belief w ith othei"s, of 
 being such as my perpetual thoughts shall here disclose 
 me, I may yet not fail of success in persuading some 
 to be such really themselves, as they cannot believe 
 me to be more than what I fain./ 1 had my time, 
 readers, as others have, who have good learning be- 
 stowed upon them, to be sent to those places, where 
 the opinion was, it might be soonest attained ; and as 
 the manner is, was not unstudied in those authors 
 which are most commended ; whereof some were 
 grave orators and historians, whose matter methought 
 I loved indeed, but as my age then was, so I under- 
 stood them ; others were the smooth elegiac poets, 
 whereof the schools are not scarce, whom both for the 
 pleasing sound of their numerous writing, which in 
 imitation I found most easy, and most agreeable to 
 nature's part in me, and for their matter, which what 
 it is, there be few who know not, I was so allured to 
 read, that no recreation came to me better welcome: 
 for that it w.as then those years with me which are ex- 
 cused, though they be least severe, I may be saved the 
 labour to remember ye. Whence having observed them 
 to account it the chief glory of their wit, in that they 
 were ablest to judge, to praise, and by that could 
 esteem themselves worthiest to love those high perfec- 
 tions, which under one or other name tbcy took to 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 ftl 
 
 celebrate; I tliougljt with myself by every instinct 
 and presag^e of nature, which is not wont to be false, 
 that what emboldened them to this task, mig-ht with 
 such diligence as they used embolden me ; and tliat 
 what judgment, wit, or elegance was my share, would 
 herein best appear, and best value itself, by how much 
 more wisely, and with more love of virtue I should 
 choose (let rude ears be absent) the object of not unlike 
 praises : for albeit these thoughts to some will seem 
 virtuous and commendable, to others only pardonable, 
 to a third sort perhaps idle ; yet the mentioning of 
 them now will end in serious. Nor blame it, readers, 
 in those years to propose to themselves such a reward, 
 as the noblest dispositions above other things in this 
 life have sometimes preferred : whereof not to be sen- 
 sible when good and fair in one person meet, argues 
 both a gross and shallow judgment, and withal an un- 
 gentle, and svvainish breast : for by the firm settling 
 of these persuasions, I became, to my best memory, so 
 much a proficient, that if I found those authors any 
 where speaking unworthy things of themselves, or 
 unchaste of those names which before they had ex- 
 tolled ; this effect it wrought with me, from that 
 time forward their art I still applauded, but the men 
 I deplored ; and above them all, preferred the two 
 famous renowners of Beatrice and Laura, who never 
 write but honour of them to whom they devote their 
 verse, displaying sublime and pure thoughts, without 
 transgression. And long it was not after, when I wa^ 
 confirmed in this opinion, that he who would not be 
 frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter in laudable 
 things, ought himself to be a true poem ; that is, a 
 composition and pattern of the best and honourablest 
 things ; not presuming to sing high praises of heroic 
 men, or famous cities, unless he have in himself the . 
 experience and the practice of all that which is prais$/ 
 worthy. These reasonings, together with a certain 
 niceness of nature, an honest haughtiness, and self- 
 esteem either of what I was, or what I might be, 
 (which let envy call pride,) and lastly that modesty, 
 whereof though not in the titlepage, yet here I may 
 be excused to make some beseeming profession ; all 
 these uniting the supply of their natural aid together, 
 kept me still above those low descents of mind, beneath 
 which he must deject and plunge himself, that can 
 agree to salable and unlawful prostitutions. Next, 
 (for hear me out now, re.iders,) that I may tell ye 
 whither my younger feet wandered ; I betook me 
 among those lofty fables and romances, which recount 
 in solemn cantoes the deeds of knighthood founded by 
 our victorious kings, and from hence had in renown 
 over all Christendom. There I read it in the oath of 
 every knight, that he should defend to the expense of 
 his best blood, or of his life, if it so befel him, the 
 honour and chastity of virgin or matron ; from whence 
 even then I learned what a noble virtue chastity sure 
 must be, to the defence of which so many worthies, by 
 such a dear adventure of themselves, had sworn ; and 
 if I found in the story afterward, any of them, by word 
 or deed, breaking that oath, I judged it the same fault 
 of the poet, as that which is attributed to Homer, to 
 
 have written indecent things of the gods : only lliis 
 my mind gave me, that every free and gentle sj)irit, 
 without that oath, ouyht to be born a knight, nor 
 needed to expect the gilt spur, or the laying of a 
 sword upon his shoulder to stir him up both by his 
 counsel and his arms, to secure and protect the weak- 
 ness of any attempted chastity. So that even these 
 books, which to many others have been the fuel of 
 wantonness and loose living, I cannot think how, 
 unless by divine indulgence, proved to me so many 
 incitements, as you have heard, to the love and stead- 
 fast observation of that virtue which abhors the society 
 of bordelloes. Thus from the laureat fraternity of 
 poets, riper yeai*s and the ceaseless round of study and 
 reading led me to the shady spaces of philosophy ; but 
 chiefly to the divine volumes of Plato, and his equal 
 Xenophon : where, if I should tell ye what I Icamt of 
 chastity and love, I mean that which is truly so, whose 
 charming cup is only virtue, which she bears in her 
 hand to those who are worthy ; (the rest are cheated 
 with a thick intoxicating potion, which a certain 
 sorceress, the abuser of love's name, carries about ;) 
 and how the first and chiefest ofllice of love begins and 
 ends in the soul, producing those happy twins of her 
 divine generation, knowledge and virtue : with such 
 abstracted sublimities as these, it might be worth 
 your listening, readers, as I may one day hope to have 
 ye in a still time, when there shall be no chiding ; 
 not in these noises, the adversary, as ye know, bark- 
 ing at the door, or searching for me at the bordelloes, 
 where it may be he has lost himself, and raps up 
 without pity the sage and rheumatic old prelates*, 
 with all her young Corinthian laity, to inquire for 
 such a one. Last of all, not in time, but as perfec- 
 tion is last, that care was ever had of me, with my 
 earliest capacity, not to be negligently trained in the 
 precepts of christian religion : this that I have hitherto 
 related, hath been to shew, that though Christianity 
 had been but slightly taught me, yet a certain re- 
 servedness of natural disposition, and moral discipline, 
 learnt out of the noblest philosophy, was enough to 
 keep me in disdain of far less incontinences than this 
 of the bordello. But having had the doctrine of Holy 
 Scripture, unfolding those chaste and high mysteries, 
 with timeliest care infused, that " the body is for the 
 Lord, and the Lord for the body;" thus also I argued 
 to myself, that if unchastity in a woman, whom St. 
 Paul terms the glory of man, be such a scandal and 
 dishonour, then certainly in a man, who is both the 
 image and glory of God, it must, though commonly 
 not so thought, be much more deflowering and disho- 
 nourable ; in that he sins both against his own body, 
 which is the perfecter sex, and his own glory, which 
 is in the woman; and that which is worst, against 
 tiie image and glory of God, which is in himself. Nor 
 did I slumber over that place, expressing such high 
 rewards of ever accompanying the Lamb, with those 
 celestial songs to others inapprehensible, but not to 
 those who were not defiled with women, which doubt- 
 less means fornication ; for marriage must not be call- 
 ed a defilement. Thus large I have purposely been, 
 
82 
 
 AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 that if I have been justly taxed with this crime, it may 
 come upon me, after all this my confession, with a ten- 
 fold shame : but if I hare hitherto deserved no such 
 opprobrious word, or suspicion, I may hereby en- 
 jfajfe myself now openly to the faithful observation of 
 what I have professed. / I {fo on to shew you the un- 
 bridled impudence of this loose railer, who, having 
 once begun his race, reg-ards not how fiir he flies out 
 beyond all trutli and shame ; who from the single no- 
 tice of the Animadversions, as he protests, will under- 
 take to tell ye the very clothes I wear, though he 
 be much mistaken in my wardrobe : and like a son of 
 Belial, without the hire of Jezebel, charges me " of 
 blaspheming God and the king," as ordinarily as he 
 imagines " mc to drink sack and swear," merely be- 
 cause this was a shred in his commonplace book, and 
 seemed to come off roundly, as if he were some em- 
 piric of false accusations, to try his poisons upon rac, 
 whether they would work or no. Whom what should 
 I endeavour to refute more, whenas that book, which 
 is his only testimony, returns the lie upon him ; not 
 giving him the least hint of the author to be either a 
 swearer or a sack drinker. And for the readers, if they 
 can believe me. principally for those reasons which I 
 have alleged, to be of life and purpose neither dishonest 
 nor unchaste, they will be easily induced to think me 
 sober both of wine and of word ; but if I have been 
 already successless in persuading them, all that I can 
 further say, will be but vain ; and it will be better 
 thrifl to save two tedious labours, mine of excusing, 
 and theirs of needless hearing. 
 
 Proceeding further, I am met with a whole ging of 
 Avords and phrases not mine, for he hath maimed them, 
 and, like a sly depraver, mangled them in this his 
 wicked limbo, worse than the ghost of Deiphobus ap- 
 peared to his friend £neas. Here I scarce know them, 
 and he that would, let him repair to the place in that 
 book where I set them : for certainly this tormentor of 
 semicolons is as good at dismembering and slitting 
 sentences, as his grave fathers the prelates have been 
 at stigmatizing and slitting noses. By such handicraft 
 as this what might he not traduce ? Only that odour, 
 which being his own must needs offend his sense of 
 smelling, since he will needs bestow his foot among us, 
 and not allow us to think he wears a sock, I shall en- 
 deavour it may be offenceless to other men's ears. The 
 Remonstrant having to do with grave and reverend 
 men his adversaries, thought it became him to tell them 
 in scorn, that " the bishop's foot had been in their 
 book and confuted it ;" which when I saw him arro- 
 gate, to have done that with his heels that surpassed 
 the best consideration of his head, to spurn a confuta- 
 tion among respected men, I questioned not the law- 
 fulness of moving his jollity to bethink him, what odour 
 a sock would have in such painful business. And this 
 may have chanced to touch him more nearly than I 
 was aware, for indeed a bishop's foot that hath all his 
 toes maugre the gout, and a linen sock over it, is the 
 aptest emblem of the prelate himself; who being a 
 
 pluralist, may under one surplice, which is also linen, 
 hide four benefices, besides the metro])olitan toe, and 
 sends a fouler stench to heaven, than that which this 
 young queasiness retches at. And this is the immediate 
 reason here why our enraged confuter, that he may be 
 as perfect a hypocrite as Caiaphas, ere he be a high- 
 priest, cries out, " Horrid blasphemy !" and, like a re- 
 creant Jew, calls for stones. I beseech ye, friends, ere 
 the brickbats fly, resolve me and yourselves, is it blas- 
 phemy, or any whit disagreeing from christian meek- 
 ness, whenas Christ himself, speaking of unsavoury 
 traditions, scruples not to name the dunghill and the 
 Jakes, for me to answer a slovenly wincer of a confu- 
 tation, that if he would needs put his foot to such a 
 sweaty service, the odour of his sock was like to be 
 neither musk nor benjamin ? Thus did that foolish monk 
 in a barbarous declamation accuse Petrarch of blas- 
 phemy for dispraising the French wines. But this which 
 follows is plain bedlam stuff, this is the demoniac le- 
 gion indeed, which the Remonstrant feared had been 
 against him, and now he may see is for him. " You 
 that love Christ," saith he, " and know this miscreant 
 wretch, stone him to death, lest you smart for his im- 
 punity." What thinks the Remonstrant."* does he like 
 that such words as these should come out of his shop, 
 out of his Trojan horse ? To give the watch-word like 
 a Guisian of Paris to a mutiny or massacre ; to pro- 
 claim a croisade against his fellow-christian now in this 
 troublous and divided time of the kingdom ? If he do, 
 I shall say that to be the Remonstrant, is no better than 
 to be a Jesuit; and that if he and his accomplices 
 could do as the rebels have done in Ireland to the pro- 
 testants, they would do in England the same to them 
 that would no prelates. For a more seditious and but- 
 cherly speech no cell of Loyola could have belched 
 against one who in all his writing spake not, that any 
 man's skin should be raised. And yet this cursing 
 Shimei, a hurler of stones, as well as a railer, wants 
 not the face instantly to make as though he " despaired 
 of victory, unless a modest defence would get it him." 
 Did I err at all, readers, to foretel ye, when first I met 
 with his title, that the epithet of modest there was a 
 certain red portending sign, that he meant ere long to 
 be most tempestuously bold and shameless ? Neverthe- 
 less, " he dares not say but there may be hid in his 
 nature as much venomous atheism and profanation, as 
 he thinks hath broke out at his adversary's lips ; but 
 he hath not the sore running upon him," as he would 
 intimate I have. Now trust me not, readers, if I be 
 not already weary of pluming and footing this sea-gull, 
 so open he lies to strokes, and never offers at another, 
 but brings home the dorre upon himself For if the 
 sore be running upon me, in all judgment I have 
 escaped the disease ; but he who hath as much hid in 
 him, as he hath voluntarily confessed, and cannot ex- 
 pel it, because he is dull, (for venomous atheism were 
 no treasure to be kept within him else,) let him take 
 the part he hath chosen, which must needs follow, to 
 swell and burst with his own inward venom. 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 83 
 
 SECT. I. 
 
 But mark, readers, there is a kind of justice observed 
 among them that do evil, but this man loves injustice 
 in the very order of his malice. For having all this 
 while abused the good name of his adversary with all 
 manner of licence in revenge of his Remonstrant, if 
 they be not both one person, or as I am told, father and 
 son, yet after all this he calls for satisfaction, whenas 
 he himself hath already taken the utmost farthing. 
 " Violence hath been done," says he, " to the person of 
 a holy and religious prelate." To which, something 
 in effect to what St. Paul answered of Ananias, T an- 
 swer, " T wist not, brethren, that he was a holy and 
 religious prelate ;" for evil is written of those who 
 would be prelates. And finding him thus in disguise 
 without his superscription or phylactery either of holy 
 or prelate, it were no sin to serve him as Longchamp 
 bishop of Ely was served in his disguise at Dover: he 
 hath begun the measure nameless, and when he pleases 
 we may all appear as we are. And let him be then 
 what he will, he shall be to me so as I find him prin- 
 cipled. For neither must prelate or archprelate hope 
 to exempt himself from being reckoned as one of the 
 vulgar, which is for him only to hope whom true wis- 
 dom and the contempt of vulgar opinions exempts, it 
 being taught us in the Psalms, that he who is in honour 
 and understandeth not, is as the beasts that perish. 
 And now first " the manner of handling that cause," 
 which I undertook, he thinks is suspicious, as if the 
 wisest and the best words were not ever to some or 
 other suspicious. But where is the oflTence, the dis- 
 agreement from christian meekness, or the precept of 
 Solomon in answering folly ? When the Remonstrant 
 talks of froth and scum, I tell him there is none, and 
 bid him spare his ladle : when he brings in the mess 
 with keal, beef, and brewess, what stomach in England 
 could forbear to call for flanks and briskets ? Capon 
 and white broth having been likely sometimes in the 
 same room with Christ and his apostles, why does it 
 trouble him, that it should be now in the same leaf, 
 especially where the discourse is not continued, but 
 interrupt ? And let him tell me, is he wont to say 
 grace, doth he not then name holiest names over the 
 steam of costliest superfluities .'* Does he judge it fool- 
 ish or dishonest, to write that among religious things, 
 which, when he talks of religious things, he can de- 
 voutly chew .-* Is he afraid to name Christ where those 
 things are written in the same leaf, whom he fears not 
 to name while the same things are in his mouth ? Doth 
 not Christ himself teach the highest things by the 
 similitude of old bottles and patched clothes ? Doth he 
 not illustrate best things by things most evil? his 
 own coming to be as a thief in the night, and the right- 
 eous man's wisdom to that of an unjust steward ? He 
 might therefore have done better to have kept in his 
 canting beggars, and heathen altar, to sacrifice his 
 threadbare criticism of Bomolochus to an unseasonable 
 goddess fit for him called Importunity, and have re- 
 
 served his Greek derivation till he lecture to his fresh 
 men, for here his itching pedantry is but flouted. 
 
 But to the end that nothing may be omitted, which 
 may farther satisfy any conscionable man, who, not- 
 withstanding what I could explain before the Animad- 
 versions, remains yet unsatisfiied concerning that way 
 of writing which I there defended, but this confuter, 
 whom it pinches, utterly disapproves ; I shall assay 
 once again, and perhaps with more success. If there- 
 fore the question were in oratory, whether a vehement 
 vein throwing out indignation or scorn upon an object ^^ 
 that merits it, were among the aptest ideas of speech j||H 
 
 to be allowed, it were my work, and that an easy one, * 
 
 to make it clear both by the rules of best rhetoricians, 
 and the famousest examples of the Greek and Roman 
 orations. But since the religion of it is disputed, and 
 not the art, I shall make use only of such reasons and 
 authorities, as religion cannot except against. It will 
 be harder to gainsay, than for me to evince, that in the 
 teaching of men diversely tempered, different ways are 
 to be tried. The Baptist, we know, was a strict man, 
 remarkable for austerity and set order of life. Our 
 Saviour, who had all gifts in him, was Lord to express 
 his indoctrinating power in what sort him best seem- 
 ed ; sometimes by a mild and familiar converse ; some- 
 times with plain and impartial home-speaking, regard- 
 less of those whom the auditors might think he should 
 have had in more respect ; otherwhile, with bitter 
 and ireful rebukes, if not teaching, yet leaving cx- 
 cuselcss those his wilful impugners. What was all 
 in him, was divided among many others the teachers 
 of his church ; some to be severe and ever of a sad 
 gravity, that they may win such, and check sometimes 
 those who be of nature over-confident and jocund ; 
 others were sent more cheerful, free, and still as it were 
 at large, in the midst of an untrespassing honesty ; that 
 they who are so tempered, may have by whom they 
 might be drawn to salvation, and they who are too 
 scrupulous, and dejected of spirit, might be often 
 strengthened with wise consolations and revivings: no 
 man being forced wholly to dissolve that groundwork of 
 nature which God created in him, the sanguine to empty 
 out all his sociable liveliness, the choleric to expel quite 
 the unsinning predominance of his anger ; but that 
 each radical humour and passion, wrought upon and 
 corrected as it ought, might be made the proper mould 
 and foundation of every man's peculiar gifts and vir- 
 tues. Some also were indued with a staid moderation 
 and soundness of argument, to teach and convince the 
 rational and soberminded ; yet not therefore that to be 
 thought the only expedient course of teaching, for in 
 times of opposition, when either against new heresies 
 arising, or old corruptions to be reformed, this cool un- 
 passionate mildness of positive wisdom is not enough 
 to damp and astonish the proud resistance of carnal and 
 false doctors, then (that I may have leave to soar awhile 
 as the poets use) Zeal, whose substance is ethereal, 
 arming in complete diamond, ascends his fiery chariot 
 drawn with two blazing meteors, figured like beasts, 
 but of a higher breed than any the zodiac yields, re- 
 sembling tvVo of those four which Ezekiel and St. John 
 
H4 
 
 AN APOLOGY lOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 saw; the one visag'ed like a lion, to express power, high 
 authority, and indignation ; the other of countenance 
 like a man, to cast derision and scorn upon perverse 
 and fraudulent seducers : with tliese the invincible 
 warrior, Zeal, shaking loosely the slack reins, drives 
 over the beads of scarlet prelates, and such as are iu- 
 solent to maintain traditions, bruising their stiff necks 
 under his flaming wheels. Thus did the true prophets 
 of old combat with the false; thus Christ himself, the 
 fountain of meekness, found acrimony enough to be 
 still galling and vexing the prelatical pharisees. But 
 ye will say, these had immediate warrant from God to 
 be thus bitter; and I say, so much the plainer is it 
 proved, that there may be a sanctified bitterness against 
 the enemies of truth. Yet that ye may not think in- 
 spiration only the warrant thereof, but that it is as any 
 other virtue, of moral and general observation, the ex- 
 ample of Luther may stand for all, whom God made 
 choice of before others to be of highest eminence and 
 power in reforming the church ; who, not of revelation, 
 but of judgment, writ so vehemently against the chief 
 defenders of old untruths in the Romish church, that 
 his own friends and favourers were many times offended 
 with the fierceness of his spirit; yet he being cited 
 before Charles the Fifth to answer for his books, and 
 having divided them into three sorts, whereof one was 
 of those which he had sharply written, refused, though 
 upon deliberation given him, to retract or unsay any 
 word therein, as we may read in Sleidan. Yea, he de- 
 fends his eagerness, as being " of an ardent spirit, and 
 one who could not write a dull style:" and affirmed, 
 " he thought it God's will, to have the inventions of 
 men thus laid open, seeing that matters quietly handled 
 •were quickly forgot." And herewithal how useful and 
 available God hath made his tart rhetoric in the church's 
 cause, he often found by his own experience. For when 
 he betook himself to lenity and moderation, as they 
 call it, he reaped nothing but contempt both from Ca- 
 jetan and Erasmus, from Cocleus, from Ecchius, and 
 others; insomuch that blaming his friends, who had so 
 counselled him, he resolved never to run into the like 
 errour : if at other times he seem to excuse his vehe- 
 mence, as more than what was meet, I have not ex- 
 amined through his works, to know how far he gave 
 way to his own fervent mind ; it shall suffice me to 
 look to mine own. And this I shall easily aver, though 
 it may seem a liard saying, that the Spirit of God, who 
 is purity itself, when he would reprove any fault se- 
 verely, or but relate things done or said with indigna- 
 tion by others, abstains not from some words not civil 
 at other times to be spoken. Omitting that place in 
 Numbers at the killing of Zimri and Cosbi; done by 
 Fliineas in the height of zeal, related, as the rabbins 
 expound, not without an obscene word ; we may find 
 in Deuteronomy and three of the prophets, where God, 
 denouncing bitterly the punishments of idolaters, tells 
 them in a term immodest to be uttered in cool blood, 
 that their wives shall be defiled openly. But these, 
 they will say, were honest words in that age when they 
 were spoken. Which is more than any rabbin can prove; 
 and certainly had God been so minded, he could have 
 
 picked such words as should never have come into abuse. 
 What will they say to this ? David going against Na- 
 bal, in the very same breath when be had just before 
 named the name of God, he vows not " to leave any 
 alive of Nabal's house that pisseth against the wall." 
 But this was unadvisedly spoken, you will answer, and 
 set down to aggravate his infirmity. Turn then to the 
 first of Kings, where God himself uses the phrase, " I 
 will cut off from Jeroboam him that pisseth against the 
 wall." Which had it been an unseemly speech in the 
 heat of an earnest expression, then we must conclude 
 that Jonathan or Onkelos the targumists were of cleaner 
 language than he that made the tongue ; for they ren- 
 der it as briefly, " I will cut oflTall who are at years of 
 discretion," that is to say, so much discretion as to hide 
 nakedness. Whereas God, who is the author both of 
 purity and eloquence, chose this phrase as fittest in 
 that vehement character wherein he spake. Otherwise 
 that plain word might have easily been forbom : which 
 the masoreths and rabbinical scholiasts, not well at- 
 tending, have often used to blur the margent with Keri 
 instead of Ketiv, and gave us this insulse rule out of 
 their Talmud, " That all words which in the law are 
 written obscenely, must be changed to more civil 
 words : " fools, who would teach men to read more de- 
 cently than God thought good to write. And thus I 
 take it to be manifest, that indignation against men 
 and their actions notoriously bad hath leave and autho- 
 rity ofttimes to utter such words and phrases, as in 
 common talk were not so mannerly to use. That ye 
 may know, not only as the historian speaks, " that all 
 those things for which men plough, build, or sail, obey 
 virtue," but that all words, and whatsoever -may be 
 spoken, shall at some time in an unwonted manner 
 wait upon her purposes. 
 
 Now that the confutant may also know as he desires, 
 what force of teaching there is sometimes in laughter; 
 I shall return him in short, that laughter being one 
 way of answering " a fool according to his folly," 
 teaches two sorts of persons, first, the fool himself " not 
 to be wise in his own conceit," as Solomon affirms ; 
 which is certainly a great document to make an unwise 
 man know himself. Next, it teacheth the hearers, in 
 as much as scorn is one of those punishments, which 
 belong to men carnally wise, which is oft in Scripture 
 declared ; for when such are punished," the simple are 
 thereby made wise," if Solomon's rule be true. And I 
 would ask, to what end Eliah mocked the false pro- 
 phets ? was it to shew his wit, or to fulfil his humour? 
 Doubtless we cannot imagine that great servant of God 
 had any other end, in all which he there did, but to 
 teach and instruct the poor misled people. And we 
 may frequently read, that many of the martyrs in the 
 midst of their troubles were not sparing to deride and 
 scoff" their superstitious persecutors. Now may the 
 confutant advise again with Sir Francis Bacon, whether 
 Eliah and the martyrs did well to turn religion into a 
 comedy or satire ; " to rip up the wounds of idolatry 
 and superstition with a laughing countenance :" so that 
 for pious gravity the author here is matched and over 
 matchfd, and for wit and morality in one that follows: 
 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 85 
 
 " laughing to teach the truth 
 
 What hinders ? as some teachers give to boys 
 Junkets and knacks that they may learn apace." 
 
 Thus Flaccus in his first satire, and his tenth : 
 
 " Jesting decides great things 
 
 Stronglier and better oft than earnest can." 
 
 I could urge the same out of Cicero and Seneca, but 
 he may content him with this. And henceforward, if 
 he can learn, may know as well what are the bounds 
 and objects of laughter and vehement reproof, as be 
 hath known hitherto how to deserve them both. But 
 lest some may haply think, or thus expostulate with 
 me after this debatement, who made you the busy 
 almoner to deal about this dole of laughter and repre- 
 hension, which no man thanks your bounty for? To 
 the urbanity of that man I should answer much after 
 this sort : that I, friend objecter, having read of hea- 
 then philosophers, some to have taught, that whosoever 
 would but use his ear to listen, might hear the voice of 
 his guiding genius ever before him, calling, and as it 
 were pointing to that way which is his part to follow ; 
 others, as the stoics, to account reason, which they call 
 the Hegemonicon, to be the common Mercury conduct- 
 ing without errour those that give themselves obediently 
 to be led accordingly : having read this, I could not 
 esteem so poorly of the faith which I profess, that God 
 had left nothing to those who had forsaken all other 
 doctrines for his, to be an inward witness and warrant 
 of what they have to do, as that they should need to 
 measure themselves by other men's measures, how to 
 give scope or limit to their proper actions ; for that 
 were to make us the most at a stand, the most uncertain 
 and accidental wanderers in our doings, of all religions 
 in the world. So that the question ere while moved, 
 who is he that spends thus the benevolence of laughter 
 and reproof so liberally upon such men as the prelates, 
 may return with a more just demand, who he is not of 
 place and knowledge never so mean, under whose con- 
 tempt and jerk these men are not deservedly fallen ? 
 Neither can religion receive any wound by disgrace 
 thrown upon the prelates, since religion and they surely 
 were never in such amity. They rather are the men 
 who have wounded religion, and their stripes must 
 heal her. I might also tell them, what Electra in 
 Sophocles, a wise virgin, answered her wicked mother, 
 who thought herself too violently reproved by her the 
 daughter : 
 
 'Tis you that say it, not I ; you do the deeds, 
 And your ungodly deeds find me the words. 
 
 If therefore the Remonstrant complain of libels, it 
 is because he feels them to be right aimed. For I ask 
 again, as before in the Animadversions, how long is it 
 since he hath disrelished libels ? We never heard the 
 least mutter of his voice against them while they flew 
 abroad without control or check, defaming the Scots 
 and Puritans. And yet he can remember of none but 
 Lysimachus Nicanor, and " that he misliked and cen- 
 sured." No more but of one can the Remonstrant re- 
 member? What if I put him in mind of one more ? 
 What if of one more whereof the Remonstrant in many 
 likelihoods maybe thought the author? Did he never 
 
 see a pamphlet intitled after his own fashion, " A Sur- 
 vey of that foolish, seditious, scandalous, prophane 
 Libel, the Protestation protested i"' The child doth not 
 more expressly refigure the visage of his father, than 
 that book resembles the style of the Remonstrant, in 
 those idioms of speech, wherein he seems most to de- 
 light : and in the seventeenth page three lines together 
 are taken out of the Remonstrance word for word, not 
 as a citation, but as an author borrows from himself. 
 Whoever it be, he may as justly be said to have libel- 
 led, as he against whom he writes : there ye shall find 
 another man than is here made shew of, there he bites 
 as fast as this whines. " Vinegar in the ink " is there 
 " the antidote of vipers." liaughing in a religious 
 controversy is there " a thrifty physic to expel his 
 melancholy." In the mean time the testimony of Sir 
 Francis Bacon was not misalleged, complaining that 
 libels on the bishops' part were uttered openly ; and if 
 he hoped the prelates had no intelligence with the 
 libellers, he delivers it but as his favourable opinion. 
 But had he contradicted himself, how could I assoil 
 him here, more than a little before, where I know not 
 how, by entangling himself, he leaves an aspersion 
 upon Job, which by any else I never heard laid to his 
 charge ? For having affirmed that " there is n<» greater 
 confusion than the confounding of jest and earnest," 
 presently he brings the example of Job, " glancing at 
 conceits of mirth, when he sat among the people with 
 the gravity of a judge upon him." If jest and earnest 
 be such a confusion, then were the people much wiser 
 than Job, for " he smiled, and they believed him not." 
 To defend libels, which is that whereof I am next 
 accused, was far from ray purpose. I had not so little 
 share in good name, as to give another that advantage 
 against myself The sum of what I said was, that a 
 more free permission of writing at some times might 
 be profitable, in such a question especially wherein the 
 magistrates are not fully resolved ; and both sides 
 have equal liberty to write, as now they have. Not as 
 when the prelates bore sway, in whose time the books 
 of some men were confuted, when they who should 
 have answered were in close prison, denied the use of 
 pen or paper. And the divine right of episcopacy was 
 then valiantly asserted, when he who would have 
 been respondent must have bethought himself withal 
 how he could refute the Clink or the Gatehouse. If 
 now therefore they he pursued with bad words, who 
 persecuted others with bad deeds, it is a way to lessen 
 tumult rather than to increase it; whenas anger thus 
 freely vented spends itself ere it break out into action, 
 though Machiavel, whom he cites, or any other Ma- 
 chiavelian priest, think the contrary. ,^ 
 
 SECT. III. 
 
 Now, readers, I bring ye to his third section ; wherein 
 very cautiously and no more than needs, lest I should 
 take bim for some chaplain at hand, some squire of the 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMFXTYMNUUS. 
 
 body to his prelate, one that serves not at the altar 
 only, but at the court cupboanl, he will bestow on us 
 a pretty model of himself; and sobs me out of half a 
 dozen phthisical mottoes wherever he had them, hop- 
 ping^ short in the measure of convulsion-flts ; in which 
 labour the agrony of his wit having' escaped narrowly, 
 instead of well-sized periods, he greets us with a quan- 
 tity of thumb-ring posies. " He has a fortune Uiere- 
 fore good, because he is content with it." This is a 
 piece of sapience not worth the brain of a fruit trencher; 
 as if content were the measure of what is good or bad 
 in the gift of fortune. For by this rule a bad man may 
 have a good fortune, because he may be ofttinies con- 
 tent with it for many reasons which have no affinity 
 with virtue, as love of ease, want of spirit to use more, 
 and the like. " And therefore content," he says, " be- 
 cause it neither goes before, nor comes behind his 
 merit." Belike then if his fortune should go before 
 his merit, he would not be content, but resign, if we 
 believe him, which I do the less, because he implies, 
 that if it came behind his merit, he would be content 
 as little. Whereas if a wise man's content should de- 
 pend upon such a therefore, because his fortune came 
 not behind his merit, how many wise men could have 
 content in this world ? In his next pithy symbol I 
 dare not board him, for he passes all the seven wise 
 masters of Greece, attributing to himself that which on 
 my life Solomon durst not : " to have affections so 
 equally tempered, that they neither too hastily adhere 
 to the truth before it be fully examined, nor too lazily 
 afterward." Which, unless he only were exempted 
 out of the corrupt mass of Adam, bom without sin 
 origrinal, and living without actual, is impossible. 
 Had Solomon, (for it behoves me to instance in the 
 wisest, dealing with such a transcendant sage as this,) 
 had Solomon affections so equally tempered, as " not 
 adhering too lazily to the truth," when God warned 
 him of his halting in idolatry ? do we read that he re- 
 pented hastily? did not his affections lead him hastily 
 from an examined truth, how much more would they 
 lead him slowly to it.'* Yet this man, beyond a stoic 
 apathy, fees truth as in a rapture, and cleaves to it ; 
 not as through the dim glass of his affections, which, in 
 this frail mansion of flesh, are ever unequally tempered, 
 pushing forward to errour, and keeping back from truth 
 ofttimes the best of men. But how far this boaster is 
 from knowing himself, let his preface speak. Some- 
 thing I thought it was that jnade him so quicksighted 
 to gather such strange things out of the. Animadver- 
 sions, whereof the least conception could not be drawn 
 from thence, of " suburb-sinks," sometimes " out of wit 
 and clothes," sometimes " in new serge, drinking sack, 
 and swearing;" now I know it was this equal temper 
 of his affections, that gave him to see clearer than any 
 fennel-rubbed serpent. Lastly, he has resolved " that 
 neither person nor cause shall improper him." I may 
 mistake his meaning, for the word ye hear is " impro- 
 per." But whether if not a person, yet a good parson- 
 age or impropriation bought out for him, would not 
 " improper" him, because there may be a quirk in the 
 'irord, I leave it for a canonist to resolve. 
 
 SECT. IV. 
 
 And thus ends this section, or ratlier dissection, of 
 himself, short ye will say both in breadth and extent, 
 as in our own praises it ought to be, unless wherein a 
 good name hath been wrongfully attainted. Right ; 
 but if ye look at what he ascribes to himself, " that 
 temper of his affections," which cannot any where be 
 but in Paradise, all the judicious panegyrics in any 
 language extant are not half so prolix. And that well 
 appears in his next removal. For what with putting 
 his fancy to the tiptoe in this description of himself, 
 and what with adventuring presently to stand upon 
 his own legs without the crutches of his margjin, which 
 is the sluice most commonly that feeds the drought of 
 his text, he comes so lazily on in a simile, with his 
 " annfull of weeds," and demeans himself in the dull 
 expression so like a dough-kneaded thing, that he has 
 not spirit enough left him so far to look to his syntax, 
 as to avoid nonsense. For it must be understood there 
 that the stranger, and not he who brings the bundle, 
 would be deceived in censuring the field, which this, 
 hipshot grammarian cannot set into right frame of con- 
 struction, neither here in the similitude, nor in the fol- 
 lowing reddition thereof; which being to this purpose, 
 that " the faults of the best picked out, and presented 
 in gross, seem monstrous, this," saith he, " you have 
 done, in pinning on his sleeve the faults of others ;" as 
 if to pick out his own faults, and to pin the faults of 
 others upon him, were to do the same thing. To an- 
 swer therefore how I have culled out the evil actions 
 of the Remonstrant from his virtues, I am acquitted by 
 the dexterity and conveyance of his nonsense, losing- 
 that for which he brought his parable. But what of 
 other men's faults I have pinned upon his sleeve, let 
 him shew. For whether he were the man who termed 
 the martyrs Foxian confessors, it matters not ; he that 
 shall step up before others to defend a church-govern- 
 ment, which wants almost no circumstance, but only a 
 name, to be a plain popedom, a g^ovemment which 
 changes the fatherly and ever-teaching discipline of 
 Christ into that lordly and uninstructing jurisdiction, 
 which properly makes the pope Antichrist, makes him- 
 self an accessory to all the evil committed by those, who 
 are armed to do mischief by that undue government; 
 which they, by their wicked deeds, do, with a kind of 
 passive and unwitting obedience to God, destroy; but 
 he, by plausible words and traditions against the Scrip- 
 ture, obstinately seeks to maintain. They, by their 
 own wickedness ruining their own unjust authority, 
 make room for good to succeed ; but he, by a shew of 
 good upholding the evil which in them undoes itself, 
 hinders the good which they by accident let in. Their 
 manifest crimes ^erve to bring forth an ensuing good, 
 and hasten a remedy against themselves ; and his seem- 
 ing good tends to reinforce their self-punishing crimes 
 and his own, by doing his best to delay all redress. 
 Shall not all the mischief which other men do be laid 
 to his charge, if they do it by that unchurch-like power 
 which he defends? Christ saith, " he that is not with 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 87 
 
 me, is ajjainst me ; and he that i»-athers not with me, 
 scatters." In what degree of enmity to Christ shall we 
 place that man then, who so is with him, as that it 
 makes more against him ; and so gathers with him, 
 that it scatters more from him ? Shall it avail that man 
 to say he honours the martyrs' memory, and treads in 
 their steps ? No; the pharisees confessed as much of 
 the holy prophets. Let him, and such as he, when they 
 are in their best actions, even at their prayers, look to 
 hear that which the pharisees heard from John the 
 Baptist when they least expected, when they rather 
 looked for praise from him ; " g-eneration of vipers, 
 who hath warned ye to flee from the wrath to come.'"' 
 Now that ye have started back from the purity of Scrip- 
 ture, which is the only rule of reformation, to the old 
 vomit of your traditions; now that ye have either 
 troubled or leavened the people of God, and the doc- 
 trine of the gospel, with scandalous ceremonies and 
 mass-borrowed liturgies, do ye turn the use of that 
 truth which ye profess, to countenance that falsehood 
 which ye gain by ? We also reverence the martyrs, but 
 rely only upon the Scriptures. And why we ought not to 
 rely upon the martyrs, I shall be content with such 
 reasons as my confuter himself affords me ; who is, I 
 must needs say for him, in that point as officious an 
 adversary as I would wish to any man. For, " first," 
 saith he, " there may be a martyr in a wrong cause, 
 and as courageous in suffering as the best ; sometimes 
 in a good cause with a forward ambition displeasing to 
 God. Other whiles they that story of them out of blind 
 zeal or malice, may write many things of them untruly." 
 If this be so, as ye hear his own confession, with what 
 safety can the Remonstrant rely upon the martyrs as 
 " patrons of his cause," whenas any of those who are 
 alleged for the approvers of our liturgy or prelaty, 
 might have been, though not in a wrong cause, mar- 
 tyrs ? Yet whether not vainly ambitious of that honour, 
 or whether not misrcported or misunderstood in those 
 their opinions, God only knows. The testimony of 
 what we believe in religion must be such as the con- 
 science may rest on to be infallible and incorruptible, 
 which is only the word of God. 
 
 SECT. V. 
 
 His fifth section finds itself aggrieved that the Re- 
 monstrant should be taxed with the illegal proceeding 
 of the high commission, and oath ex officio: and first, 
 " whether they were illegal or no, it is more than he 
 knows." See this malevolent fox I that tyranny which 
 the whole kingdom cried out against as stung with 
 adders and scorpions, that tyranny which the parlia- 
 ment, in compassion of the church and commonwealth, 
 hath dissolved and fetched up by the roots, for which 
 it hath received tlie public thanks and blessings of 
 thousands ; this obscure thorn-eater of malice and de- 
 traction as well as of quodlibets and sophisms, knows 
 not whether it were illegal or not. Evil, evil would 
 
 be your reward, ye worthies of the parliament, if this 
 sophister and his accomplices had tiie censuring or the 
 sounding forth of your labours. And that the Remon- 
 strant cannot wash his hands of all the cruelties exer- 
 cised by the prelates, is past doubting. They scourged 
 the confessors of the gospel, and he held the scourgers' 
 garments. They executed their rage; and he, if lie 
 did nothing else, defended the government with the 
 oath that did it, and the ceremonies which were the 
 cause of it; does he think to be counted guiltless P 
 
 SECT. VI. 
 
 In the following section I must foretel ye, readers, 
 the doings will be rough and dangerous, the baiting of 
 a satire. And if the work seem more trivial or boister- 
 ous than for this discourse, let the Remonstrant thank 
 the folly of this confuter, who could not let a private 
 word pass, but he must make all tiiis blaze of it. I 
 had said, that because the Remonstrant was so much 
 offended with those who were tart against the prelates, 
 sure he loved toothless satires, which I took were as 
 improper as a toothed sleekstone. This champion from 
 behind the arras cries out, that those toothless satires 
 were of the Remonstrant's making ; and arms himself 
 here tooth and nail, and born to boot, to supply the 
 want of teeth, or rather of gums in the satires. And 
 for an onset tells me, that the simile of a sleekstone 
 " shews I can be as bold with a prelate as familiar 
 with a laundress." But does it not argue rather the 
 lascivious promptness of his own fancy, who, from the 
 harmless mention of a sleekstone, could neigh out the 
 remembmnce of his old conversation among the vira- 
 ginian trollops ? For me, if he move me, I shall claim 
 his own oath, the oath ex officio against any priest or 
 prelate in the kingdom, to have ever as much hated 
 such pranks as the best and chastest of tliem all. Tiiat 
 exception which I made against toothless satires, tlie 
 confuter hopes I had from the satirist, but is far de- 
 ceived : neither have I ever read the hobbling distich 
 which he means. For this good hap I h.id from a 
 careful education, to be inured and seasoned betimes 
 with the best and elcgantest authors of the learned 
 tongues, and thereto brought an ear that could measure 
 a just cadence, and scan without articulating: rather 
 nice and humorous in what was tolerable, than patient 
 to read every drawling versifier. Whence lighting 
 upon this title of" toothless satires,"! will not conceal 
 ye what I thought, readers, that sure this must be some 
 sucking satire, who might have done better to have 
 used his coral, and made an end of breeding, ere he 
 took upon him to wield a satire's whip. But when I 
 heard him talk of " scowering the rusty swords of elvish 
 knights," do not blame me, if I changed my thought, 
 and concluded him some desperate cutler. But why 
 " his scornful muse could never abide with tragic shoes 
 her ancles for to hide," the pace of the verse told me 
 that her mawkin knuckles were never shapcn to thit 
 
88 
 
 AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTVMNUUS. 
 
 royal buskin. And turniiiff by chance to the sixth 
 satire of his second book, I was confirmed ; where hav- 
 ing* begun loftily " in Heaven's universal alphabet," 
 he falls down to that wretched poorness and frig-idity, 
 as to talk of" Bridge street in Heaven, and the Ostler 
 of Heaven," and there wanting other matter to catch 
 him a heat, (for certain he was in the frozen zone 
 miserably benummed,) with thoughts lower than any 
 beadle betakes him to whip the signposts of Cambridge 
 alehouses, the ordinary subject of freshmen's tales, and 
 in a strain as pitiful. Which for him who would be 
 counted the first English satire, to abase himself to, who 
 might have learned better among the Latin and Italian 
 satirists, and in our own tongue from the " Vision and 
 Creed of Pierce Plowman," besides others before him, 
 manifested a presumptuous undertaking with weak and 
 unexamined shoulders. For a satire as it was born out 
 of a tragedy, so ought to resemble his parentage, to 
 strike high, and adventure dangerously at the most 
 eminent vices among the greatest persons, and not to 
 creep into every blind tap-house, that fears a constable 
 more than a satire. But that such a poem should be 
 toothless, I still affirm it to be a bull, taking away the 
 essence of that which it calls itself. For if it bite nei- 
 ther the persons nor the vices, how is it a satire ? And 
 if it bite either, how is it toothless ? So that toothless 
 satires are as much as if he had said toothless teeth. 
 What we should do therefore with this learned com- 
 ment upon teeth and horns, which hath brought this 
 confutant into his pedantic kingdom of Cornucopia, to 
 reward him for glossing upon horns even to the Hebrew 
 root, I know not; unless we should commend him to 
 be lecturer in East-cheap upon St. Luke's day, when 
 they send their tribute to that famous haven by Dept- 
 ford. But we are not like to escape him so. For now 
 the worm of criticism works in him, he will tell us the 
 derivation of " German rutters, of meat, and of ink," 
 which doubtless, rightly applied with some gall in it, 
 may prove good to heal this tetter of pedagogism that 
 bespreads him, with such a tenesmus of originating, 
 that if he be an Arminian, and deny original sin, all the 
 etymologies of his book shall witness, that his brain is 
 not meanly tainted with that infection. 
 
 SECT. VII. 
 
 His seventh section labours to cavil out the flaws 
 which were found in the Remonstrant's logic ; who 
 having laid down for a general proposition, that " civil 
 polity is variable and arbitrary," from whence was in- 
 ferred logically upon him, that he had concluded the 
 polity of England to be arbitrary, for general includes 
 particular ; here his defendant is not ashamed to con- 
 fess, that the Remonstrant's proposition was sophistical 
 by a flllacy called ad plures intcrrogationes : which 
 sounds to me somewhat strange, that a Remonstrant 
 of that pretended sincerity should bring deceitful and 
 double-dealing propositions to the parliament. The 
 
 truth is, he had let slip a shrewd passage ere he was 
 aware, not thinking the conclusion would turn upon 
 him with such a terrible edge, and not knowing how 
 to wind out of the briars, he, or liis substitute, seems 
 more willing to lay the integrity of his logic to pawn, 
 and grant a fallacy in his own major, where none is, 
 than to be forced to uphold the inference. For that 
 distinction of possible, and lawful, is ridiculous to be 
 sought for in that proposition ; no man doubting that 
 it is possible to change the form of civil polity ; and 
 that it is held lawful by that major, the word " arbi- ^ 
 trary " implies. Nor will this help him, to deny that 1 
 it is arbitrary " at any time, or by any undertakers," 
 (which are the limitations invented by him since,) for 
 when it stands as he will have it now by his second 
 edition, " civil polity is variable, but not at any time, 
 or by any undertakers," it will result upon him, belike 
 then at some time, and by some undertakers it may. 
 And so he goes on mincing the matter, till he meets 
 with something in Sir Francis Bacon ; then he takes 
 heart again, and holds his major at large. But by and 
 by, as soon as the shadow of Sir Francis hath left him, 
 he falls off again warping, and warping, till he come 
 to contradict himself in diameter; and denies flatly that 
 it is " either variable or arbitrary, being once settled." 
 Which third shift is no less a piece of laughter : for, 
 before the polity was settled, how could it be variable, 
 whenas it was no polity at all, but either an anarchy or 
 a tyranny ? That limitation therefore, of after-settling, 
 is a mere tautology. So that, in fine, his former asser- 
 tion is now recanted, and " civil polity is neither vari- 
 able nor arbitrary." 
 
 SECT. VIII. 
 
 Whatever else may persuade me, that this confuta- 
 tion was not made without some a.ssistance or advice 
 of the Remonstrant, yet in this eighth section that his 
 hand was not greatly intermixed, I can easily believe. 
 For it begins with this surmise, that " not having to 
 accuse the Remonstrant to the king, I do it to the par- 
 liament ;" which conceit of the man clearly shoves the 
 king out of the parliament, and makes two bodies of 
 one. Whereas the Remonstrant, in the epistle to his 
 last " Short Answer," gives his supposal, " that they 
 cannot be severed in therightsof their several concern- 
 ments." Mark, readers, if they cannot be severed in 
 what is several, (which casts a Imll's eye to go yoke 
 with the toothless satires,) how should they be severed 
 in their common concernments, the welfare of the land, 
 by due accusation of such as are the common griev- 
 ances, among which I took the Remonstrant to be one? 
 And therefore if I accused him to the parliament, it 
 was the same as to accuse him to the king. Next he 
 casts it into the dish of I know not whom, " that they 
 flatter some of the house, and libel others whose con- 
 sciences made them vote contrary to some proceedings." 
 Those some proceedings can be understood of nothing 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 89 
 
 else but the deputy's execution. And can this private 
 concoctor of malecontent, at the very instant when he 
 pretends to extol the parliament, afford thus to blur 
 over, rather than to mention, that public triumph of 
 their justice and constancy, so high, so glorious, so 
 reviving to the fainted commonwealth, with such a 
 suspicious and murmuring expression as to call it 
 some proceedings ? And yet immediately he falls to 
 glossing, as if he were the only man that rejoiced at 
 these times. But I shall discover to ye, readers, that 
 this his praising of them is as full of nonsense and 
 scholastic foppery, as his meaning he himself discovers 
 to be full of close malignity. His first encomium is, 
 " that the sun looks not upon a braver, nobler convoca- 
 tion than is that of king, peers, and commons." One 
 thing I beg of ye, readers, as ye bear any zeal to 
 learning, to elegance, and that which is called decorum 
 in the writing of praise, especially on such a noble ar- 
 gument, ye would not be offended, though T rate this 
 cloistered lubber according to his deserts. Where didst 
 thou learn to be so aguish, so pusillanimous, thou losel 
 bachelor of art, as against all custom and use of speech 
 to term the high and sovereign court of parliament, a 
 convocation ? Was this the flower of all the synonimas 
 and voluminous papers, whose best folios are predes- 
 tined to no better end than to make winding-sheets in 
 lent for pitchers? Couldst thou presume thus with one 
 word's speaking to clap as it were under hatches the 
 king with all his peers and gentry into square caps 
 and monkish hoods ? How well dost thou now appear 
 to be a chip of the old block, that could find " Bridge 
 street and alehouses in heaven ?" Why didst thou not, 
 to be his perfect imitator, liken the king to the vice- 
 chancellor, and the lords, to the doctors? Neither is 
 this an indignity only but a reproach, to call that in- 
 violable residence of justice and liberty, by such an 
 odious name as now a " convocation" is become, which 
 would be nothing injured, though it were styled the 
 house of bondage, whereout so many cruel tasks, so 
 many unjust burdens have been laden upon the bruised 
 consciences of so many Christians throughout the land. 
 But which of those worthy deeds, whereof we and our 
 posterity must confess this parliament to have done so 
 many and so noble, which of those memorable acts 
 comes first into his praises ? None of all, not one. 
 What will he then praise them for? Not for any thing 
 doing, but for defen-ing to do, for deferring to chastise 
 his lewd and insolent compriests : not tliat they have 
 deferred all, but that he hopes they will remit what is 
 yet behind. For the rest of his oratory that follows, 
 so just is it in the language of stall epistle nonsense, 
 that if he who made it can understand it, I deny not 
 but that he may deserve for his pains a cast doublet. 
 When a man would look be should vent something of 
 his own, as ever in a set speech the manner is with 
 him that knows any thing, he, lest we should not take 
 notice enough of his barren stupidity, declares it by 
 alphabet, and refers us to odd remnants in his topics. 
 Nor yet content with the wonted room of his margin, 
 but he must cut out large docks and creeks into his text, 
 to unlade the foolish frigate of his unseasonable autho- 
 
 rities, not therewith to praise the parliament, but to 
 tell them what he would have them do. Wiiat else 
 there is, he jumbles together in such a lost construction, 
 as no man, either lettered or unlettered, will be able to 
 piece up. I shall spare to transcribe him, but if I do 
 him wrong let me be so dealt with. 
 
 Now although it be a digression from the ensuing 
 matter, yet because it shall not be said I am apter to 
 blame others than to make trial myself, and that I may 
 after this harsh discord touch upon a smoother string 
 awhile to entertain myself and him that list, with some 
 more pleasing fit, and not the least to testify the gra- 
 titude which I owe to those public benefactors of their 
 country, for the share I enjoy in the common peace 
 and good by their incessant labours ; I shall be so 
 troublesome to this declaimcr for once, as to shew him 
 what he might have better said in their praise ; wherein 
 I must mention only some few things of many, for 
 more than that to a digression may not be granted. 
 Although certainly their actions are worthy not thus to 
 be spoken of by the way, yet if hereafter it befall me 
 to attempt something more answerable to their great 
 merits, I perceive how hopeless it will be to reach the 
 height of their praises at the accomplishment of that 
 expectation that waits upon their noble deeds, the un- 
 finishing whereof already surpjisses what othei-s before 
 them have left enacted with their utmost performance 
 through many a^es. And to the end we may be confi- 
 dent that what they do, proceeds neither from uncertain 
 opinion, nor sudden counsels, but from mature wisdom, 
 deliberate virtue, and dear affection to the public good ; 
 I shall begin at that which made them likeliest in the 
 eyes of good men to effect those things for the recovery 
 of decayed religion and the commonwealth, which they 
 who were best minded bad long wished for, but few, 
 as the times then were desperate, had the courage to 
 hope for. First, therefore, the most of them being 
 either of ancient and high nobility, or at least of known 
 and well reputed ancestry, which is a great advantage 
 towards virtue one way, but in respect of wealth, ease, 
 and flattery, which accompany a nice and tender edu- 
 cation, is as much ahinderance another way : the good 
 which lay before tliem they took, in imitating the 
 worthiest of their progenitors ; and the evil which as- 
 saulted their younger years by the temptation of riches, 
 high birth, and that usual bringing up, perhaps too 
 favourable and too remiss, through the strength of an 
 inbred goodness, and with the help of divine grace, 
 that had marked them out for no mean purposes, they 
 nobly overcame. Yet had they a greater danger to 
 cope with ; for being trained up in the knowledge of 
 learning, and sent to those places which were intended 
 to be the seed plots of piety and the liberal arts, but 
 were become the nurseries of superstition and empty 
 speculation, as they were prosperous against those 
 vices which grow upon youth out of idleness and 
 superfluity, so were they happy in working off the 
 harms of their abused studies and labours; correct- 
 ing by the clearness of their own judgment the 
 errours of their misinstruction, and were, as David 
 was, wiser than their teachers. And although their 
 
90 
 
 AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 lot fell into such times, and to be bred in such 
 places, where if they chanced to be taug-ht any thing 
 good, or of their own accord had learnt it, they might 
 see that presently untaught them by the custom and ill 
 example of their elders ; so far in all probability was 
 their youth from being misled by the single power of 
 example, as their riper years were known to be un- 
 moved with the baits of preferment, and undaunted ftis 
 any discouragement and terrour which appearerfouen 
 to those that loved religion and theifnative liberty ; 
 which two things God hath inseparably knit to;jether, 
 and bath disclosed to us, that they who seek to corrupt 
 our religion, arc the same that would enthral our civil 
 liberty. Thus in the midst of all disadvantages and 
 disrespects, (some also at last not without imprisonment 
 and open disgraces in the cause of their country,) hav- 
 ing given proof of themselves to be better made and 
 framed by nature to the love and practice of virtue, 
 than others under the holiest precepts and best exam- 
 ples have been headstrong and prone to vice ; and 
 having in all the trials of a firm ingrafted honesty not 
 oftener buckled in the conflict than given every oppo- 
 sition the foil ; this moreover was added by favour 
 from heaven, as an ornament and happiness to their 
 virtue, that it should be neither obscure in the opinion 
 of men, nor eclipsed for want of matter equal to illus- 
 trate itself; God and man consenting in joint approba- 
 tion to choose them out as worthiest above others to be 
 both the great reformers of the church, and the restorers 
 of the commonwealth. Nor did they deceive that ex- 
 pectation which with the eyes and desires of their 
 country was fixed upon them ; for no sooner did the 
 force of so much united excellence meet in one globe 
 of brightness and efficacy, but encountering the daz- 
 zled resistance of tyranny, they gave not over, though 
 their enemies were strong and subtle, till they had laid 
 her groveling upon the fatal block ; with one stroke 
 winning again our lost liberties and charters, which 
 our forefathers after so many battles could scarce main- 
 tain. And meeting next, as I may so resemble, with 
 the second life of tyranny (for she was grown an am- 
 biguous monster, and to be slain in two shapes) guard- 
 ed with superstition, which hath no small power to 
 captivate the minds of men otherwise most wise, they 
 neither were taken with her mitred hypocrisy, nor 
 terrified with the push of her bestial horns, but break- 
 ing them, immediately forced her to unbend the pon- 
 tifical brow, and recoil ; which repulse only given to 
 the prelates (that we may imagine how happy their 
 removal would be) was the producement of such glo- 
 rious effects and consequences in the church, that if I 
 should compare them with those exploits of highest 
 fame in poems and pane/yrics of old, I am certain it 
 would but diminish and impair their worth, who are 
 now my argument ; for those ancient worthies deliver- 
 ed men from such tyrants as were content to inforce 
 only an outward obedience, letting the mind be as free 
 as it could ; but these have freed us from a doctrine of 
 tyranny, that offered violence and corruption even to 
 the inward persuasion. They set at liberty nations and 
 cities of men good and bad mixed together ; but these 
 
 opening the prisons and dungeons, called out of dark- 
 ness and bonds the elect martyrs and witnesses of their 
 Redeemer. They restored the body to ease and wealth ; 
 but these, the oppressed conscience to that freedom 
 which is the chief prerogative of the gospel ; taking 
 oflT those cruel burdens imposed not by necessity, as 
 other tyrants are wont for the safeguard of their lives, 
 but laid upon our necks by the strange wilfulness and 
 wantonness of a needless and jolly persecutor called 
 Indifference. Lastly, some of those ancient deliverers 
 have had immortal praises for preserving their citizens 
 from a famine of corn. But these, by this only repulse 
 of an unholy heirarchy, almost in a moment replenish- 
 ed with saving knowledge their country nigh famished 
 for want of that which should feed their souls. All 
 this being done while two armies in the field stood 
 gazing on, the one in reverence of such nobleness 
 quietly gave back and dislodged ; the other, spite of 
 the unruliness, and doubted fidelity in some.regiments, 
 was either persuaded or compelled to disband and re- 
 tire home. With such a majesty had their wisdom be- 
 girt itself, that whereas others had levied war to subdue 
 a nation that sought for peace, they sitting here ia 
 peace, could so many miles extend the force of their 
 single words, as to overawe the dissolute stoutness of 
 an armed power secretly stirred up and almost hired 
 against them. And having by a solemn protestation 
 vowed themselves and the kingdom anew to God and 
 his service, and by a prudent foresight above what their 
 fathers thought on, prevented the dissolution and frus- 
 trating of their designs by an untimely breaking up ; 
 notwithstanding all the treasonous plots against them, 
 all the rumours either of rebellion or invasion, they 
 have not been yet brought to change their constant re- 
 solution, ever to think fearlessly of their own safeties, 
 and hopefully of the commonwealth : which hath 
 gained them such an admiration from all good men, 
 that now they hear it as their ordinary surname, to be 
 saluted the fathers of their country, and sit as gods 
 among daily petitions and public thanks flowing in 
 upon them. Which doth so little yet exalt them in 
 their own thoughts, that, with all gentle affability and 
 courteous acceptance, they both receive and return that 
 tribute of thanks which is tendered them ; testifying 
 their zeal and desire to spend themselves as it were 
 piece-meal upon the grievances and wrongs of their 
 distressed nation ; insomuch that the meanest artizans 
 and labourers, at other times also women, and often the 
 younger sort of servants assembling with their com- 
 plaints, and that sometimes in a less humble guise than 
 for petitioners, have gone with confidence, that neither 
 their meanness would be rejected, nor their simplicity 
 contemned ; nor yet tljeir urgency distasted either bj 
 the dignity, wisdom, or moderation of that supreme 
 senate ; nor did they depart unsatisfied. And indeed, 
 if we consider the general concourse of suppliants, the 
 free and ready admittance, the willing and speedy re- 
 dress in what is possible, it will not seem much other- 
 wise, than as if some divine commission from heaven 
 were descended to take into hearing and commiseration 
 the long remediless afflictions of this kingdom ; were , 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 91 
 
 it not that none more than themselves labour to remove 
 and divert such thoughts, lest men should place too 
 much confidence in their persons, still referring' us and 
 our prayers to him that can grant all, and appointing 
 the monthly return of public fasts and supplications. 
 Therefore the more they seek to humble themselves, the 
 more does God, by manifest signs and testimonies, 
 visibly honour their proceedings ; and sets them as the 
 mediators of this his covenant, which he offere us to 
 renew. Wicked men daily conspire their hurt, and it 
 comes to nothing; rebellion rages in our Irish province, 
 but, with miraculous and lossless victories of few against 
 many, is daily discomfited and broken ; if wc neglect 
 not this early pledge of God's inclining towards us, by 
 the slackness of our needful aids. And whereas at other 
 times we count it ample honour when God vouchsafes 
 to make man the instrument and subordinate worker 
 of his gracious will, such acceptation have their prayers 
 found with him, that to them he hath been pleased to 
 make himself the agent, and immediate performer of 
 their desires; dissolving their difficulties when they 
 are thought inexplicable, cutting out ways for them 
 where no passage could be seen ; as who is there so 
 regardless of divine Providence, that from late occur- 
 rences will not confess .'* If therefore it be so high a 
 grace when men are preferred to be but the inferior 
 officers of good things from God, what is it when God 
 himself condescends, and works with his own hands to 
 fnlfil the requests of men ? Which I leave with them as 
 the greatest praise that can belong to human nature : 
 not that we should think they are at the end of their 
 glorious progress, but that they will go on to follow his 
 Almighty leading, who seems to hrve thus covenanted 
 with them ; that if the will and the endeavour shall be 
 theirs, the performance and the perfecting shall be his. 
 Whence only it is that I have not feared, though many 
 wise men have miscarried in praising great designs 
 before the utmost event, because I see who is their as- 
 sistant, who is their confederate, who hath engaged his 
 omnipotent arm to support and crown with success their 
 faith, their fortitude, their just and magnanimous ac- 
 tions, till he have brought to pass all that expected gbod 
 which, his servants trust, is in his thoughts to bring upon 
 this land in the full and perfect reformation of his church. 
 
 Thus far I have digressed, readers, from my former 
 subject; but into such a path, as I doubt not yc will 
 agree with me, to be much fairer and more delightful 
 than the roadway I was in. And how to break off sud- 
 denly into those jarring notes which this confuter hath 
 set me, I must be wary, unless I can provide against 
 offending the ear, as some musicians are wont skilfully 
 to fall out of one key into another, without breach of har- 
 mony. By good luck therefore his ninth section is spent 
 in mournful elegy, certain passionate soliloquies, and two 
 whole pages of interrogatories that praise the Remon- 
 strant even to the sonneting of" his fresh cheek, quick 
 eyes, round tongue, agil hand, and nimble invention." 
 
 In his tenth section he will needs erect figures, and 
 tell fortunes ; " I am no bishop," he says, " I was never 
 bom to it." Let me tell therefore this wizard, since he 
 calculates so right, that he may know there be in the 
 
 world, and I among those, who nothing admire his 
 idol a bishopric ; and hold that it wants so much to 
 be a blessing, as that I rather deem it the merest, the 
 falsest, the most unfortunate gift of fortune. And were 
 the punishment and misery of being a prelate bishop 
 terminated only in the person, and did not extend to 
 the affliction of the whole diocese, if I would wish 
 any thing in the bitterness of soul to mine enemy, I 
 would wish him the biggest and fattest bishopric. But 
 he proceeds ; and the familiar belike informs him, that 
 " a rich widow, or a lecture, or both, would content 
 me : " whereby I perceive him to be more ignorant in 
 his art of divining than any gipsy. For this I cannot 
 omit without ingratitude to that Providence above, 
 who hath ever bred me up in plenty, although my life 
 hath not been unexpensive in learning, and voyaging 
 about; so long as it shall please him to lend me what 
 he hath hitherto thought good, which is enough to 
 serve me in all honest and liberal occasions, and some- 
 thing over besides, I were unthankful to that highest 
 bounty, if I should make myself so poor, as to solicit 
 needily any such kind of rich hopes as this fortune- 
 teller dreams of. And tliat he may further learn how 
 his astrology is wide all the houses of heaven in spell- 
 ing marriages, I care not if I tell him thus much pro- 
 fessedly, though it be the losing of my rich hopes, as 
 he calls them, that I think with them who, both in pru- 
 dence and elegance of spirit, would choose a virgin of 
 mean fortunes honestly bred, before the wealthiest 
 widow. The fiend therefore, that told our Chaldean 
 tlie contrary, was a lying fiend. His next venom he 
 utters against a prayer, which he found in the Animad- 
 versions, angry it seems to find any prayers but in the 
 service book ; he dislikes it, and I therefore like it 
 the better. " It was theatrical," he says ; and yet it 
 consisted most of Scripture language ; it had no rubric 
 to be sung in an antic cope upon the stage of a high 
 altar. " It was bigmouthed," he says ; no marvel, if 
 it were framed as the voice of three kingdoms ; neither 
 was it a prayer so much as a hymn in prose, frequent 
 both in the prophets, and in human authors; therefore 
 the style was greater than for an ordinary prayer. " It 
 was an astonishing prayer." I thank him for that con- 
 fession, so it was intended to astound and to astonish 
 the guilty prelates ; and this confuter confesses, that 
 with him it wrought that effect. But in that which 
 follows, he does not play the soothsayer, but the dia- 
 bolic slanderer of prayers. " It was made," he says, 
 " not so much to please God, or to benefit the weal 
 public," (how dares the viper judge that?) " but to 
 intimate," saith he, " your good abilities to her that is 
 your rich hopes, your Maronilla." How hard is it 
 when a man meets with a fool, to keep his tongue from 
 folly ! That were miserable indeed to be a courtier of 
 Maronilla, and withal of such a hapless invention, as 
 that no way should be left me to present my meaning 
 but to make myself a canting probationer of orisons. 
 The Remonstrant, when he was as young as I, could 
 
 "Teach each hollow grove to sound his love. 
 Wearying echo with one changeless word." 
 
 Toothless Satires. 
 
92 
 
 AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 And so he well niitcht, and all his auditory besides 
 with his "teach each." 
 
 '* Whether so me list my lovely thoughts to sing, 
 Come dance ye nimble dryads by my side. 
 Whiles 1 report my fortunes or my loves." 
 
 Toothless Satires. 
 
 Delicious! he had that whole bevy at command 
 whether in morrice or at maypole; whilst I by this 
 6gure-caster must be imag'ined in such distress as to 
 sue to Maronilla, and yet left so impoverished of what 
 to say, as to turn my liturg'y into my lady's psalter. 
 Believe it, graduate, I am not altogether so rustic, and 
 nothing' so irreligious, but as far distant from a lec- 
 turer, as the merest laic, for any consecrating hand of 
 a prelate that shall ever touch me. Yet I shall not 
 decline the more for that, to speak my opinion in the 
 controversy next moved, " whether the people may be 
 allowed for competent judges of a minister's ability." 
 For bow else can be fulfilled that which God hath pro- 
 mised, to pour out such abundance of knowledge upon 
 all sorts of men in the times of the gospel .'* How should 
 the people examine the doctrine which is taught them, 
 as Christ and his apostles continually bid them do ? 
 How should they " discern and beware of false pro- 
 phets, and try every spirit," if they must be thought 
 unfit to judge of the minister's abilities .•• The apostles 
 ever laboured to persuade the christian flock, that they 
 " were called in Christ to all perfectness of spiritual 
 knowledge, and full assurance of understanding in the 
 mystery of God." But the non-resident and plurality- 
 gaping prelates, the gulfs and whirlpools of benefices, 
 but the dry pits of all sound doctrine, that they may 
 the better preach what they list to their sheep, are still 
 possessing them that they are sheep indeed, without 
 judgment, without understanding, " the very beasts of 
 mount Sinai," as this confuter calls them; which words 
 of theirs may serve to condemn them out of their own 
 mouths, and to shew the gross contrarieties that are in 
 their opinions : for while none think the people so void 
 of knowledge as the prelates think them, none are so 
 backward and malignant as they to bestow knowledge 
 upon them ; both by suppressing the frequency of ser- 
 mons, and the printed explanations of the English 
 Bible. No marvel if the people turn beasts, when their 
 teachers themselves, as Isaiah calls them, "are dumb 
 and greedy dogs, that can never have enough, ignor 
 ant, blind, and cannot understand ; who while they 
 all look their own way, every one for his gain from his 
 quarter," how many parts of the land are fed with 
 windy ceremonies instead of sincere milk ; and while 
 one prelate enjoys the nourishment and right of twenty 
 ministers, how many waste places are left as dark as 
 " Galilee of the Gentiles, sitting in the region and sha- 
 dow of death," without preaching minister, without 
 light. So little care they of beasts to make them n;en, 
 that by their sorcerous doctrine of formalities, they take 
 the way to transform them out of christian men into 
 judaizing beasts. Had they but taught the land, or 
 suffered it to be taught, as Christ would it should have 
 been in all plenteous dispensation of the word, then the 
 poor mechanic might bare so accustomed bis ear to 
 
 good teaching, as to have discerned between faithful 
 teachers and false. But now, with a most inhuiuau 
 cruelty, they who have put out the people's eyes, re- 
 proach them of their blindness; just as the Pharisees 
 their true fathers were wont, who could not endure 
 that the people should be thought competent judges of 
 Christ's doctrine, although we know they judged far 
 better than those great rabbies : yet "this people," said 
 they, " that knows not the law is accursed." We need 
 not the authority of Pliny brought to tell us, the people 
 cannot judge of a minister : yet that hurts not. For 
 as none can judge of a painter, or statuary, but be who 
 is an artist, that is, either in the practice or theory, 
 which is often separated from the practice, and judges 
 learnedly without it ; so none can judge of a christian 
 teacher, but he who hath either the practice, or the know- 
 ledge of christian religion, though not so artfully 
 digested in him. And who almost of the meanest 
 Christians hath not heard the Scriptures often read from 
 his childhood, besides so many sermons and lectures 
 more in number than any student hath heard in philo- 
 sophy, whereby he may easily attain to know when he 
 is wisely taught, and when weakly."* whereof three 
 ways I remember are set down in Scripture ; the one 
 is to read often that best of books written to this pur- 
 pose, that not the wise only, but the simple and ignor- 
 ant, may learn by them ; the other way to know of a 
 minister is, by the life he leads, whereof the meanest 
 understanding may be apprehensive. The last way to 
 judge aright in this point is, when he who judges, lives 
 a christian life himself. Which of these three will the 
 confuter affirm to exceed the capacity of a plain ar- 
 tizan ? And what reason then is there left, wherefore 
 he should be denied his voice in the election of his 
 minister, as not thought a competent discemer ? It is 
 but arrogance therefore, and the pride of a metaphy- 
 sical fume, to think that " the mutinous rabble " (for so 
 he calls the christian congregation) " would be so mis- 
 taken in a clerk of the university," that were to be their 
 minister. I doubt me those clerks, that think so, are 
 more mistaken in themselves ; and what with truanting 
 and debauchery, what with false grounds and the 
 weakness of natural faculties in many of them, (it be- 
 ing a maxim in some men to send the simplest of their 
 sons thither,) perhaps there would be found among them 
 as many unsolid and corrupted judgments both in doc- 
 trine and life, as in any other two corporations of like 
 bigness. This is undoubted, that if any carpenter, smith, 
 or weaver, were such a bungler in his trade, as the 
 greater number of them are in their profession, he would 
 starve for any custom. And should he exercise his ma- 
 nufacture as little as they do their talents, he would for- 
 get his art ; and should be mistake his tools as they do 
 theirs, he would mar all the work be took in hand. 
 How few among them that know to write, or speak in 
 a pure style ; much less to distinguish the ideas, and 
 various kinds of style ; in Latin barbarous, and oft not 
 without solecisms, declaiming in rugged and miscel- 
 laneous gear blown together by the four winds, and in 
 their choice preferring the gay rankness of Apuleius, 
 Arnobins, or any modern fustianist, before the native 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 J« 
 
 I^tinisms of Cicero. In the Greek tongue most of 
 them unlettered, or" unentered to any sound proficiency 
 in those attic masters of moral wisdom and eloquence." 
 In the Hebrew text, which is so necessary to be under- 
 stood, except it be some few of them, their lips are 
 utterly uncircumcised. No less are they out of the 
 way in philosophy, pestering their heads with the 
 sapless dotages of old Paris and Salamanca. And that 
 which is the main point, in their sermons affecting the 
 comments and postils of friars and Jesuits, but scorning 
 and slighting the reformed writers; insomuch that the 
 better sort among them will confess it a rare matter to 
 hear a true edifying sermon in either of their great 
 churches ; and that such as are most bummed and ap- 
 plauded tliere, would scarcely be suffered the second 
 hearing in a grave congregation of pious Christians. 
 Is there cause why these men should overwean, and be 
 so queasy of the rude multitude, lest their deep worth 
 should be undervalued for want of fit umpires .'* No, 
 roy matriculated confutant, there will not want in any 
 congregation of this island, that hath not been alto- 
 gether famished or wholly perverted with prelatish 
 lea?en ; there will not want divers plain and solid 
 men, that have learned by the experience of a good 
 conscience, what it is to be well taught, who will soon 
 look through and through both the lofty nakedness of 
 your latinizing barbarian, and the finical goosery of 
 your neat sermon actor. And so I leave you and your 
 fellow " stars," as you term them, " of either horizon," 
 meaning I suppose either hemisphere, unless you will 
 be ridiculous in your astronomy : for the rational hori- 
 zon in heaven is but one, and the sensible horizons in 
 earth are innumerable ; so that your allusion was as 
 erroneous as your stars. But that you did well to 
 prognosticate them all at lowest in the horizon ; that is, 
 either seeming bigger than they are through the mist 
 and vapour which they raise, or else sinking and wasted 
 to the snuff in their western socket. 
 
 SECT. XI. 
 
 His eleventh section intends I know not what, unless 
 to clog us with the residue of his phlegmatic sloth, 
 discussing with a heavy pulse the " expedience of set 
 forms;" which no question but to some, and for some 
 time may be permitted, and perhaps there may be 
 usefully set forth by the church a common directory of 
 public prayer, especially in the administration of the 
 sacraments. But that it should therefore be enforced 
 where both minister and people profess to have no 
 need, but to be scandalized by it, that, I hope, every 
 sensible Christian will deny : and the reasons of such 
 denial the confuter himself, as his bounty still is to his 
 adversary, will give us out of his affirmation. First 
 saith he, " God in his providence hath chosen some to 
 teach others, and pray for others, as ministers and 
 pastors." Whence I gather, that however the faculty 
 of others may be, yet that they whom God hath set 
 
 apart to his ministry, are by him endued with an ability 
 of prayer ; because their office is to pray for others, 
 and not to be the lip-working deacons of other men's 
 appointed words. Nor is it easily credible, that he who 
 can preach well, should be unable to pray well ; whenas 
 it is indeed the same ability to speak affirmatively, or 
 doctrinally, and only by changing the mood, to speak 
 prayingly. In vain therefore do they pretend to want 
 utterance in prayer, who can find utterance to preach. 
 And if prayer be the gift of the Spirit, why do they 
 admit those to the ministry, who want a main gift of 
 their function, and prescribe gifted men to use that 
 which is the remedy of another man's want; setting 
 them their tasks to read, whom the Spirit of God stands 
 ready to assist in his ordinance with the gift of free 
 conceptions .'* What if it be granted to the infirmity 
 of some ministers (though such seem rather to be half 
 ministers) to help themselves with a set form, shall it 
 therefore be urged upou the plenteous graces of others? 
 And let it be granted to some people while they are 
 babes, in christian gifts, were it not better to take it 
 away soon after, as we do loitering books and inter- 
 lioeary translations from children ; to stir up and exer- 
 cise that portion of the Spirit which is in them, and 
 not impose it upon congregations who not only deny 
 to need it, but as a thing troublesome and offensive, 
 refuse it ? Another reason which he brings for liturgy, 
 is " the preserving of order, unity, and piety;" and 
 the same shall be my reason against liturgy. For I, 
 readers, shall always be of this opinion, that obedience 
 to the spirit of God, rather than to the fair seeming 
 pretences of men, is the best and most dutiful order 
 that a Christian can observe. If the Spirit of God 
 manifest the gift of prayer in his minister, what more 
 seemly order in the congregation, than to go along 
 with that man in our devoutest affections .** For him 
 to abridge himself by reading, and to forestall himself 
 in tliose petitions, which he must either omit, or vainly 
 repeat, when he comes into the pulpit under a shew 
 of order, is the greatest disorder. Nor is unity less 
 broken, especially by our liturgy, though this author 
 would almost bring the communion of saints to a com- 
 munion of liturgical words. For what other reformed 
 church holds communion with us by our liturgy, and 
 does not rather dislike it .'* And among ourselves, who 
 knows it not to have been a perpetual cause of disunion ? 
 Lastly, it hinders piety rather than sets it forward, 
 being more apt to weaken the spiritual faculties, if the 
 people be not weaned from it in due time ; as the daily 
 pouring in of hot waters quenches the natural heat. 
 I'or not only the body and the mind, but also the im- 
 provement of God's Spirit, is quickened by using. 
 Whereas they who will ever adhere to liturgy, bring 
 themselves in the end to such a pass by overmuch 
 leaning, as to lose even the legs of their devotion. 
 These inconveniencies and dangers follow the compel- 
 ling of set forms : but that the toleration of the English 
 liturgy now in use is more dangerous than the com- 
 pelling of any other, which the reformed churches use, 
 these reasons following may evince. To contend that 
 it is fantastical, if not senseless in some places, were a 
 
94 
 
 AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 copious argument, especially in the Responsorics. 
 For such altcniations as are there used must be by 
 several persons ; but the minister and the people can- 
 not so sever their interests, as to sustain several per- 
 sons; he being the only mouth of the whole body 
 which he presents. And if the people pray, he being 
 silent, or they ask any one thing, and he another, it 
 cither changes the property, making the priest the 
 people, and the people the priest, by turns, or else 
 makes two persons and two bodies representative where 
 there should be but one. Which, if it be nought else, 
 must needs be a strange quaintness in ordinary prayer. 
 The like, or worse, may be said of the litany, wherein 
 neither priest nor people speak any intire sense of 
 themselves throughout the whole, I know not what to 
 name it; only by the timely contribution of their parted 
 stakes, closing up as it were the schism of a sliced 
 prayer, they pray not in vain, for by this means they 
 keep life between them in a piece of gasping sense, 
 and keep down the sauciness of a continual rebounding 
 nonsense. And hence it is, that as it hath been far 
 from the imitation of any warranted prayer, so we all 
 know it hath been obvious to be the pattern of many a 
 jig. And he who hath but read in good books of de- 
 votion and no more, cannot be so either of ear or judg- 
 ment unpractised to distinguish what is grave, patheti- 
 cal, devout, and what not, but will presently perceive 
 this liturgy all over in conception lean and dry, of 
 affections empty and unmoving, of passion, or any 
 height whereto the soul might soar upon the wings of 
 zeal, destitute and barren ; besides errours, tautologies, 
 impertinencies, as those thanks in the woman's church- 
 ing for her delivery from sunbuming and moonblasting, 
 as if she had been travailing not in her bed, but in the 
 deserts of Arabia. So that while some men cease not 
 to admire the incomparable frame of our liturgy, I 
 cannot but admire as fast what they think is become 
 of judgment and taste in other men, that they can hope 
 to be heard without laughter. And if this were all, 
 perhaps it were a compliable matter. But when we 
 remember this our liturgy where we found it, whence 
 we had it, and yet where we left it, still serving to all 
 the abominations of the antichristian temple, it may be 
 wondered now we can demur whether it should be done 
 away or no, and not rather fear we have highly offended 
 in using it so long. It hath indeed been pretended to 
 be more ancient than the mass, but so little proved, that 
 whereas other corrupt liturgies have had withal such a 
 seeming antiquity, as that their publishers have ven- 
 tured to ascribe them with their worst corruptions either 
 to St. Peter, St. James, St. Mark, or at least to Chry- 
 sostom or Basil, ours hath been never able to find cither 
 age or author allowable, on whom to father those things 
 therein which are least offensive, except the two creeds, 
 for Te Deum has a smatch in it of Limbus Patrum : as 
 if Christ had not " opened the kingdom of heaven" 
 before he had " overcome the sharpness of death." So 
 that having received it from the papal church as an 
 original creature, for aught can be shewn to the con- 
 trary, formed and fashioned by workmasters ill to be 
 trusted, we may be assured that if God loathe the best 
 
 of an idolater's prayer, much more the conceited fangle 
 of his prayer. 'I'his confuter himself confesses that a 
 community of the same set form in prayers, is that 
 which " makes church and church truly one;" wctben 
 using a liturgy far more like to the mass book than to 
 any protestant set form, by his own words must have 
 more communion with the Romish church, than with 
 any of the reformed. How can we then not partake 
 witli them the curse and vengeance of their superstition, 
 to whom we come so near in the same set form and 
 dress of our devotion ? Do we think to sift the matter 
 finer than we are sure God in his jealousy will, who 
 detested both the gold and the spoil of idolatrous cities, 
 and forbid the eating of things offered to idols ? Are 
 we stronger than he, to brook that which his heart can- 
 not brook.'' It is not surely because we think that 
 prayers are no where to be had but at Rome ? That 
 were a foul scorn and indignity cast upon all the re- 
 formed churches, and our own : if we imagine that all 
 the godly ministers of England are not able to new- 
 mould a better and more pious liturgy than this which 
 was conceived and infanted by an idolatrous mother, 
 how basely were that to esteem of God's Spirit, and all 
 the holy blessings and privileges of a true church above 
 a false ! Hark ye, prelates, is this your glorious mother 
 of England, who, whenas Christ hath taught her to 
 pray, thinks it not enough unless she add thereto the 
 teaching of Antichrist ? How can we believe ye would 
 refuse to take the stipend of Rome, when ye shame not 
 to live upon the almsbasket of her prayers ? Will ye 
 persuade us, that ye can curse Rome from your hearts, 
 when none but Rome must teach ye to pray ? Abra- 
 ham disdained to take so much as a thread or a shoe- 
 latchet from the king of Sodom, though no foe of his, 
 but a wicked king; and shall we receive our prayers 
 at the bounty of our more wicked enemies, whose gifts 
 are no gifts, but the instruments of our bane ? Alas ! 
 that the Spirit of God should blow as an uncertain 
 wind, should so mistake his inspiring, so misbestow his 
 gifts promised only to the elect, that the idolatrous 
 should find words acceptable to present God with, and 
 abound to their neighbours, while the true professors 
 of the gospel can find nothing of their own worth the 
 constituting, wherewith to worship God in public ! 
 Consider if this be to magnify the church of England, 
 and not rather to display her nakedness to all the world. 
 Like therefore as the retaining of this Romish liturgy 
 is a provocation to God, and a dishonour to our church, 
 so is it by those ceremonies, those purifyings and offer- 
 ings at the altar, a pollution and disturbance to the 
 gospel itself; and a kind of driving us with the foolish 
 Galatians to another gospel. For that which the 
 apostles taught hath freed us in religion from the ordi- 
 nances of men, and commands that " burdens be nyt 
 laid " upon the redeemed of Christ ; though the form- 
 alist will say. What, no decency in God's worship .'' 
 Certainly, readers, the worship of God singly in itself, 
 the very act of prayer and thanksgiving, with those 
 free and unimposed expressions which from a sincere 
 heart unbidden come into the outward gesture, is the 
 greatest decency that can be imagined. Which to 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 95 
 
 dress up and g-amish with a devised bravery abolished 
 in the law, and disclaimed by the gospel, adds nothing- 
 hut a deformed ugliness ; and hath ever afforded a 
 colourable pretence to bring in all those traditions 
 and carnalities that are so killing to the power and 
 virtue of the gospel. What was that which made the 
 Jews, figured under the names of Aholah and Aholibah, 
 go a whoring after all the heathen's inventions, but 
 that they saw a religion gorgeously attired and de- 
 sirable to the eye ? What was all that the false doc- 
 tors of the primitive church and ever since have 
 done, but " to make a fair shew in the flesh," as St. 
 Paul's words are ? If we have indeed given a bill 
 of divorce to popery and superstition, why do we not 
 say as to a divorced wife. Those things which are yours 
 take them all with you, and they shall sweep after 
 you ? Why were not we thus wise at our parting from 
 Rome ? Ah ! like a crafty adulteress she forgot not all 
 her smooth looks and enticing words at her parting ; 
 yet keep these letters, these tokens, and these few orna- 
 ments ; I am not all so greedy of what is mine, let 
 them preserve with you the memory of what I am ? 
 No, but of what T was, once fair and lovely in your 
 eyes. Thus did those tender-hearted reformers dotingly 
 suffer themselves to be overcome with harlot's language. 
 And she like a witch, but with a contrary policy, did 
 not take something of theirs, that she still might have 
 power to bewitch them, but for the same intent left 
 somethirtg of her own behind her. And that her 
 whorish cunning should prevail to work upon us her 
 deceitful ends, though it be sad to speak, yet such is 
 our blindness, that we deserve. For we are deep in 
 dotage. We cry out sacrilege and misdevotion against 
 those who in zeal have demolished the dens and cages 
 of her unclean wallowings. We stand for a popish 
 liturgy as for the ark of our covenant. And so little 
 does it appear our prayers are from the heart, that mul- 
 titudes of us declare, they know not how to pray but 
 by rote. Yet they can learnedly invent a prayer of 
 their own to the parliament, that they may still ig- 
 norantly read the prayers of other men to God. They 
 object, that if we must foTsake all that is Rome's, we 
 must bid adieu to our creed ; and I had thought our 
 creed had been of the Apostles, for so it bears title. 
 But if it be hers, let her take it. We can want no creed, 
 so long as we want not the Scriptures. We magnify 
 those who, in reforming our church, have inconsider- 
 ately and blamefully permitted the old leaven to re- 
 main and sour our whole lump. But they were martyrs; 
 true, and he that looks well into the book of God's pro- 
 vidence, if he read there that God for this their negli- 
 gence and halting brought all that following persecu- 
 tion upon this church, and on themselves, perhaps will 
 be found at the last day not to have read amiss. 
 
 SECT. XIT. 
 
 But now, readers, we have the port within sight ; 
 his last section, which is no deep one, remains only to 
 be forded, and then the wished shore. And here first 
 
 it pleases him much, that he had descried me, as he 
 conceives, to be unread in the councils. Concern- 
 ing which matter it will not be unnecessary to shape 
 him this answer; that some years I had spent in the 
 stories of those Greek and Roman exploits, wherein I 
 found many things both nobly done, and worthily 
 spoken ; when coming in the method of time to that 
 age wherein the church had obtained a christian em- 
 peror, I so prepared myself, as being now to read ex- 
 amples of wisdom and goodness among those who were 
 foremost in the church, not elsewhere to be paralleled; 
 but, to the amazement of what I expected, I found it 
 all quite contrary ; excepting in some very few, nothing 
 but ambition, corruption, contention, combustion ; in- 
 somuch that I could not but love the historian Socrates, 
 who, in the proem to his fifth book professes, " he was 
 fain to intermix affairs of state, for that it would be 
 else an extreme annoyance to hear in a continued dis- 
 course the endless brabbles and counter-plottings of the 
 bishops." Finding, therefore, the most of their actions 
 in single to be weak, and yet turbulent; full of strife, 
 and yet flat of spirit; and the sum of their best coun- 
 cils there collected, to be most commonly in questions 
 either trivial and vain, or else of short and easy deci- 
 sion, without that great bustle 'which they made ; I 
 concluded that if their single ambition and ignorance 
 was such, then certainly united in a council it would 
 be much more ; and if the compendious recital of what 
 they there did was so tedious and unprofitable, then 
 surely to set out the whole extent of their tattle in a 
 dozen volumes would be a loss of time irrecoverable. 
 Besides that which I had read of St. Martin, who for his 
 last sixteen years could never be persuaded to be at any 
 council of the bishops. And Gregory Nazianzen betook 
 him to the same resolution, afHrming to Procopius, 
 " that of any council or meeting of bishops he never 
 saw good end ; nor any remedy thereby of evil in the 
 church, but rather an increase. For," saith he, " their 
 contentions and desire of lonling no tongue is able to 
 express." I have not therefore, I confess, read more 
 of the councils save here and there ; I should be sorry 
 to have been such a prodigal of my time : but that 
 which is better, I can assure this confuter, I have read 
 into them all. And if I want any thing yet, I shall 
 reply something toward that which in the defence of 
 Mursena was answered by Cicero to Sulpitius the 
 lawyer. If ye provoke me (for at no hand else will I 
 undertake such a frivolous labour) I will in three 
 months be an expert councilist. For, be not deceived, 
 readers, by men that would overawe your ears with 
 big names and huge tomes that .contradict and repeal 
 one another, because they can cram a margin with 
 citations Do but winnow their chaff from their w heat, 
 ye shall see their great heap shrink and wax thin past 
 belief. From hence he passes to inquire wherefore I 
 should blame the vices of the prelates only, seeing the 
 inferiour clergy is known to be as faulty. To which 
 let him hear in brief; that those priests whose vices 
 have been notorious, are all prelatical, which argues 
 both the impiety of that opinion, and the wicked re- 
 missness of that government. We hear not of any 
 
96 
 
 AX APOLOGY FOR SMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 which are called nonconformists, that have been ac- 
 cused of scandalous living'; but are known to be pious 
 or at least sober men. Which is a fjreat good arg'u- 
 ment that tiiey are in the truth and prelates in the 
 errour. He would be resolved next, " What the corrup- 
 tions of the universities concern the prelates ?" And to 
 that let him take this, that the Remonstrant having 
 spoken as if learning would decay with the removal of 
 prelates, I shewed him that while books were extant and 
 in print, learning could not readily be at a worse pass in 
 the universities than it was now under their goveniment. 
 Then be seeks to justify the pernicious sermons of the 
 clergy, as if they upheld sovereignty; whenas all 
 christian sovereignty is by law, and to no other end 
 but to the maintenance of the common good. But their 
 doctrine was plainly the dissolution of law, which only 
 sets up sovereignty, and the erecting of an arbitrary 
 sway according to private will, to which they would 
 enjoin a slavish obedience without law ; which is the 
 known definition of a tyrant, and a tyrannised people. 
 A little beneatli he denies that great riches in the church 
 are the baits of pride and ambition; of which errour to 
 undeceive him, I shall allege a reputed divine author- 
 ity, as ancient as Constantine, which bis love to an- 
 tiquity must not except against ; and to add the more 
 weight, he shall learn it rather in the words of our old 
 poet Govver than in mine, that he may see it is no new 
 opinion, but a truth delivered of old by a voice from 
 heaven, and ratified by long experience. 
 
 " This Constantine which heal hath found, 
 
 " Within Rome anon let found / 
 
 " Two churches which he did make I 
 
 " For Peter and for Paul's sake : \. 
 
 " Of whom he had a vision, 
 
 " And yafe thereto possession 
 
 " Of lordship and of world's good ; 
 
 " But how so that his will was good 
 
 " Toward the pope and his franchise, 
 
 " Yet hath it proved otherwise 
 
 " To see the working of the deed : 
 
 " For in cronick thus I read, 
 
 " Anon as he hath made the yeft, 
 
 " A voice was heard on high the left, 
 
 " Of which all Rome was adrad, 
 
 " And said, this day venim is shad 
 
 *■ In holy Church, of temporall 
 
 " That meddleth with the spiritual ; 
 
 " And how it stant in that degree, 
 
 " Yet may a man the sooth see. 
 
 " God amend it whan he will, 
 
 ** I can thereto none other skill." 
 
 But there were beasts of prey, saith he, before wealth 
 was bestowed on the church. What, though, because 
 the vultures had then but small pickings, shall we 
 therefore go and fling them a full gorge .-' If they for 
 lucre use to creep into the church undiscernibly, the 
 more wisdom will it be so to provide that no revenue 
 there may exceed the golden mean ; for so, good pas- 
 tors will be content, as having need of no more, and 
 knowing withal the precept and example of Christ and 
 his apostles, and also will be less tempted to ambition. 
 The bad will have but small matter whereon to set their 
 mischief awork ; and the worst and subtlest heads will 
 
 not come at all, when they shall see the crop nothing 
 answerable to their capacious greediness ; for small 
 temptations allure but dribbling offenders; hut a great 
 purchase will call such as both are most able of them- 
 selves, and will be most enabled hereby to compass 
 dangerous projects. But, saith he, " a widow's house 
 will tempt as well as a bishop's palace." Acutely 
 spoken ! because neither we nor the prelates can abolish 
 widows' houses, which are but an occasion taken of evil 
 without the church, therefore we shall set up within 
 the church a lottery of such prizes as are the direct in- 
 viting causes of avarice and ambition, both unnecessary 
 and harmful to be proposed, and most easy, most con- 
 venient, and needful to be removed. " Yea but they 
 are in a wise dispenser's hand." Let them be in whose 
 hand they will, they are most apt to blind, to puflT up, 
 and pervert, the most seeming good. And how they 
 have been kept from vultures, whatever the dispenser's 
 care hath been, we have learned by our miseries. But 
 this which comes next in view, I know not what good 
 vein or humour took him when he let drop into his 
 paper; I that was ere while the ignorant, the loiterer, 
 on the sudden by his permission am now granted " to 
 know something," And that " such a volley of ex- 
 pressions" he hath met withal, " as he would never 
 desire to have them better clothed." For me, readers, 
 although I cannot say that I am utterly untrained in 
 those rules which best rhetoricians have given, or un- 
 acquainted with those examples which the prime au- 
 thors of eloquence have written in any learned tongue; 
 yet true eloquence I find to be none, but the serious 
 and hearty love of truth : and that whose mind soever 
 ^Mi fully possessed with a fervent desire to know good 
 things, and with the dearest charity to infuse the know- 
 ledge of them into others, when such a man would 
 speak, his words (by what I can express) like so many 
 nimble and airy servitors trip about him at command, 
 and in well-ordered files, as he would wish, fall aptly 
 into their own places. But now to the remainder of 
 our discourse. Christ refused great riches and large 
 honours at the devil's hand. But why, saith he, " as 
 they were tendered bj' him from whom it was a sin to 
 receive them." Timely remembered: why is it not 
 therefore as much a sin to receive a liturgy of the 
 masses' giving, were it for nothing else but for the giver ? 
 " But he could make no use of such a high estate," 
 quoth the confuter ; opportunely. For why then should 
 the servant take upon him to use those things which 
 bis master had unfitted himself to use, that he might 
 teach his ministers to follow his steps in the same 
 ministry ? But " they were offered him to a bad end." 
 So they prove to the prelates, who, after their prefer- 
 ment, most usually change the teaching labour of the 
 word, into the unteaching ease of lordship over con- 
 sciences and purses. But he proceeds, " God enticed the 
 Israelites with the promise of Canaan;" did not the 
 prelates bring as slavish minds with them, as the 
 Jews brought out of Egypt? they had left out that 
 instance. Besides that it was then the time, whenas 
 the best of them, as St. Paul saith, " was shut up unto 
 the faith under the law their schoolmaster," who was 
 
AN APOLOGY FOR SxMECTYMNUUS. 
 
 97 
 
 forced to entice them as children with childish entice- 
 ments. But the g-ospel is our manhood, and the 
 ministry should he the manhood of the gospel, not to 
 look after, much less so basely to plead for earthly re- 
 wards. " But God incited the wisest man Solomon 
 with these means." Ah, confuter of thyself, this ex- 
 ample hath undone thee ; Solomon asked an under- 
 standing heart, which the prelates have little care to 
 ask. He asked no riches, which is their chief care ; 
 therefore was the prayer of Solomon pleasing to God ; 
 he gave him wisdom at his request, and riches without 
 asking, as now he gives the prelates riches at their 
 seeking, and no wisdom because of their perverse ask- 
 ing. But he gives not over yet, " Moses had an eye 
 to the reward." To what reward, thou man that lookest 
 with Balaam's eyes ? To what reward had the faith of 
 Moses an eye ? He that had forsaken all the greatness 
 of Egypt, and chose a troublesome journey in his old 
 age through the wilderness, and yet arrived not at his 
 journey's end. His faithful eyes were fixed upon that 
 incorruptible reward, promised to Abraham and his 
 seed in the Messiah ; he sought a heavenly reward, 
 which could make him happy, and never hurt him, 
 and to such a reward every good man may have a re- 
 spect ; but the prelates are eager of such rewards as 
 cannot make them happy, but can only make them 
 worse. Jacob, a prince born, vowed that if God would 
 " but give him bread to eat and raiment to put on, then 
 the Lord should be his God." But the prelates of 
 mean birth, and ofttimes of lowest, making shew as if 
 they were called to the spiritual and humble ministry 
 of the gospel, yet murmur, and think it a hard service, 
 unless, contrary to the tcnour of thtir profession, they 
 may eat the bread and wear the honours of princes : 
 so much more covetous and base they are than Simon 
 Magus, for be proffered a reward to be admitted to that 
 •vork, which they will not be meanly hired to. But, 
 saith he, " Are not the clergy members of Christ, why 
 should not each member thrive alike ?" Carnal tcxtman ! 
 as if worldly thriving were one of the privileges we 
 have by being in Christ, and were not a providence 
 ofttimes extended more liberally to the Infidel than to 
 the Christian. Therefore must the ministers of Christ 
 not be over rich or great in the world, because their 
 calling is spiritual, not secular ; because they have a 
 special warfare, which is not to be entangled with many 
 impediments ; because their master Christ gave them 
 this precept, and set them this example, told them this 
 was the mystery of his coming, by mean things and 
 persons to subdue mighty ones : and lastly, because a 
 middle estate is most proper to the office of teaching, 
 whereas higher dignity teaches far less, and blinds 
 the teacher. Nay, saith the confuter, fetcbiiig his last 
 endeavour, " the prelates will be very loth to let go 
 their baronies, and votes in parliament," and calls it 
 " God's cause," with an insufferable impudence. " Not 
 that they love the honours and the means," good men 
 and generous ! " but that they would not have their 
 country made guilty of such a sacrilege and injus- 
 tice !" A worthy patriot for his own corrupt ends. 
 That which he imputes as sacrilege to his country, is 
 
 the only way left them to purge that abominable sacri- 
 lege out of the land, which none but the prelates are 
 guilty of; who for the discharge of one single duty, 
 receive and keep that which might be enough to satisfy 
 the labours of many painful ministers better deserving 
 than themselves ; who possess huge benefices for lazy 
 performances, great promotions only for the execution 
 of a cruel disgospelling jurisdiction ; who ingross many 
 pluralities under a nonresident and slubbering dispatch 
 of souls ; who let hundreds of parishes famish in one 
 diocese, while they the prelates are mute, and yet enjoy 
 that wealth that would furnish all those dark places 
 with able supply : and yet they eat, and yet they live 
 at the rate of earls, and yet hoard up ; they who chase 
 away all the faithful shepherds of the flock, and bring 
 in a dearth of spiritual food, robbing thereby the church 
 of her dearest treasure, and sending herds of souls 
 starveling to hell, while they feast and riot upon the 
 labours of hireling curates, consuming and purloining 
 even that which by their foundation is allowed, and left 
 to the poor, and to reparations of the church. These 
 are they who have bound the land with the sin of sa- 
 crilege, from which mortal engagement we shall never 
 be free, till we have totally removed with one labour, 
 as one individual thing, prelaty and sacrilege. And 
 herein will the king be a true defender of the faith, 
 not by paring or lessening, but by distributing in due 
 proportion the maintenance of the church, that all parts 
 of the land may equally partake the plentiful and dili- 
 gent preaching of the faith, the scandal of ceremonies 
 thrown out that delude and circumvent the faith ; and 
 the usurpation of prelates laid level, who are in words 
 the fathers, but in their deeds, the oppugners of the 
 faith. This is that which will best confirm him in that 
 glorious title. Thus ye have heard, readers, how many 
 shifts and wiles the prelates have invented to save their 
 ill-got booty. And if it be true, as in Scripture it is 
 foretold, that pride and covetousness are the sure marks 
 of those false prophets which are to come; then boldly 
 conclude these to be as great seducers as any of the 
 latter times. For between this and the judgment day 
 do not look for any arch deceivers, who in spite of re- 
 formation will use more craft, or less shame to defend 
 their love of the world and their ambition, than these 
 prelates have done. And if ye think that soundness of 
 reason, or what force of argument soever, will bring 
 them to an ingenuous silence, ye think that which will 
 never be. But if ye take that course which Erasmus 
 was wont to say Luther took against the pope and 
 monks ; if ye denounce war against their mitres and 
 their bellies, ye shall soon discern that turban of pride, 
 which they wear upon their heads, to be no helmet of 
 salvation, but the mere metal and hornwork of papal 
 jurisdiction ; and that they have also this gift, like a 
 certain kind of some that are possessed, to have their 
 voice in their bellies, which, being well drained and 
 taken down, their great oracle, which is only there, 
 will soon be dumb; and the divine right of episcopacy, 
 forthwith expiring, will put us no more to trouble with 
 tedious antiquities and disputes. 
 
OF EDUCATION 
 
 TO MASTER SAMUEL HARTLIB. 
 
 Master Hartlib, 
 I AM long since persuaded, that to say or do aught 
 worth memory and imitation, no purpose or respect 
 should sooner move us than simply the love of God, 
 and of mankind. Nevertheless to write now the re- 
 forming of education, though it be one of the greatest 
 and noblest designs that can be thought on, and for 
 the want whereof this nation perishes ; 1 had not yet 
 at this time been induced, but by your earnest entreat- 
 ies and serious conjurements; as having my mind for 
 the present half diverted in the pursuance of some other 
 assertions, the knowledge and the use of which cannot 
 but be a great furtherance both to the enlargement of 
 truth, and honest living with much more peace. Nor 
 should the laws of any private friendship have prevailed 
 with me to divide thus, or transpose my former thoughts, 
 but that I see those aims, those actions, which have 
 won you with me the esteem of a person sent hither 
 by some good providence from a far country to be the 
 occasion and incitement of great good to this island. 
 And, as I hear, you have obtained the same repute 
 with men of most approved wisdom, and some of the 
 highest authority among us ; not to mention the learned 
 correspondence which you hold in foreign parts, and 
 the extraordinary pains and diligence, which you have 
 used in this matter both here and beyond the seas ; 
 either by the definite will of God so ruling, or the pe- 
 culiar sway of nature, which also is God's working. 
 Neither can I think that so reputed and so valued as 
 you are, you would to the forfeit of your own discern- 
 ing ability, impose upon me an unfit and overponderous 
 argument; but that the satisfaction, which you profess 
 to have received from those incidental discourses which 
 we have wandered into, hath pressed and almost con- 
 strained you into a persuasion, that what you require 
 from me in this point, I neither ought nor can in con- 
 science defer beyond this time both of so much need 
 at once, and so much opportunity to try what God hath 
 determined. I will not resist therefore whatever it is, 
 either of divine or human obligeraent, that you lay 
 upon me ; but will forthwith set down in writing, as 
 you request me, that voluntary idea, which hath long 
 in silence presented itself to me, of a better education, 
 in extent and comprehension far more large, and yet 
 
 of time far shorter, and of attainment far more certain, ^ 
 than hath been yet in practice. Brief I shall endeavour' 
 to be ; for that which I have to say, assuredly this nation 
 hath extreme need should be done sooner than spoken. 
 To tell you therefore what !• have benefited herein 
 among old renowned authors, I shall spare; and to 
 search what many modern Januas and Didactics, more 
 than ever I shall read, have projected, my inclination 
 leads me not. But if you can accept of these few ob- 
 servations which have flowered ofl^, and are as it were 
 the burnishing of many studious and contemplative 
 years altogether spent in the search of religious and 
 civil knowledge, and such as pleased you so well in 
 the relating, I here give you them to dispose of. 
 
 The end then of learning is to repair the ruins of our^/ 
 first parents by regaining to know God aright, and 
 out of that knowledge to love him, to imitate him, to 
 be like him, as we may the nearest by possessing our 
 souls of true virtue, which being united to the heavenly^ 
 grace of faith, makes up the highest perfection. But 
 because our understanding cannot in this body found 
 itself but on sensible things, nor arrive so clearly to the 
 knowledge of God and things invisible, as by orderly 
 conning over the visible and inferior creature, the same 
 method is necessarily to be followed in all discreet 
 teaching. And seeing every nation affbi-ds not expe- 
 rience and tradition enough for all kind of learning, 
 therefore we are chiefly taught the languages of those 
 people who have at any time been most industriousV 
 after wisdom ; so that language is but the instrument 
 conveying to us things useful to be known. And 
 though a linguist should pride himself to have all the 
 tongues tliat Babel cleft the world into, yet if he have 
 not studied the solid things in them as well as the 
 words and lexicons, he were nothing so much to biu 
 esteemed a learned man, as any yeoman or tradesman 
 competently wise in his mother dialect only. Hence 
 appear the many mistakes which have made learning 
 generally so unpleasing and so unsuccessful ; first, we do 
 amiss to spend seven or eight years merely in scraping 
 together so much miserable Latin and Greek, as might " 
 be learned otherwise easily and delightfully in one 
 year. And that which casts our proficiency therein 
 
OF EDUCATION. 
 
 99 
 
 so much behind, is our time lost partly in too oft idle 
 vacancies given both to schools and universities; 
 partly in a preposterous exaction,fforcing' the empty 
 wits of children to compose themes, verses, and ora- 
 tions, which are the acts of ripest judgment, and the 
 final work of a head filled by long reading and observ- 
 ingA with elegant maxims and copious invention. 
 ThftS9 are not matters to be wrung from poor striplings, 
 like blood out of the nose, or the plucking of untimely 
 fruit; besides the ill habit which they get of wretched 
 barbarizing against the Latin and Greek idiom, with 
 their untutored Anglicisms, odious to be reiid, yet not 
 to be avoided without a well-continued and judicious 
 conversing among pure authors digested, which they 
 scarce taste: whereas, if after some preparatory grounds 
 of spe ech by their certain forms got into memory, they 
 were led to the praxis thereof in some chosen short 
 book lessoned thorotighly to them, they might then 
 forthwith proceed to learn the substance of good things, 
 and arts in due order, which would bring the whole 
 language quickly into their power. This I take to be 
 the most rational and most profitable way of learning 
 languages, and whereby we may best hope to give ac- 
 count to God of our youtli spent herein. And for the 
 usual method of teaching arts, I deem it to be an old 
 errour of universities, not yet welT recovered from the 
 scholastic grossness of barbarous ages, that instead of 
 
 'J)eginning with arts most easy, (and those be such as 
 arc most obvious to the sense,) they present their young 
 unmatriculated novices at first coming with the most 
 intellective abstractions of logic and metaphysics ; so 
 that they having but newly left those grammatic flats 
 and shallows where they stuck unreasonably to Icam a 
 few words with lamentable construction, and now on 
 the sudden transported under another climate to be 
 tossed and tnrmoiled with their unballasted wits in 
 fathomless and unquiet deeps of controversy, do for the 
 
 .most part grow into hatred and contempt of learning, 
 mocked and deluded all this while with ragged notions 
 and babblements, while they expected worthy and de- 
 lightful knowledge ; till poverty or youthful years call 
 them importunately their several ways, and hasten 
 them with the sway of friends either to an ambitious 
 and mercenary, or ignorantly zealous divinity; some 
 allured to the trade of law, grounding their purposes 
 not on the prudent and heavenly contemplation of jus- 
 tice and equity, which was never taught them, but on 
 the promising and pleasing thoughts of litigious tenns, 
 fat contentions, and flowing fees ; others betake them 
 to state afl'airs, with souls so unpiincipled in virtue 
 and true generous breeding, that flattery and court- 
 shifts and tyrannous aphorisms appear to them the 
 highest points of wisdom ; instilling their barren hearts 
 with a conscientious slavery; if, as I rather think, it be 
 not feigned. Others, lastly, of a more delicious and 
 airy spirit, retire themselves (knowing no better) to the 
 enjoyments of ease and luxury, living out their days 
 in feast and jollity ; Mhieh indeed is the wisest and 
 the safest course of all these, unless they were with 
 more integrity undertaken. *And these^areJLhe crrours, 
 
 * Thus it is in the first edition 
 H 
 
 and these are the fruits of mispending our prime youth 
 at the schools and universities as we do, either in J^ 
 learning mere words, or such things chiefly as were 
 better unlearned. 
 
 I shall detain you now no longer in the demonstra- 
 tion of what we should not do, but straight conduct you 
 to a hill-side, where I will point you out the right path 
 of a virtuous and noble education; laborious indeed at 
 the first ascent, but else so smooth, so green, so full of 
 goodly prospect, and melodious sounds on every side, 
 that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming. I 
 doubt not but ye shall have more ado to drive our dull- 
 est and laziest youth, our stocks and stubs, from the in- 
 finite desire of such a happy nurture, than we have now 
 to hale and drag our choicest and hopefullest wits to 
 that asinine feast of sowthistlcs and brambles, which 
 is commonly set before them as all the food and enter- 
 tainment of their tenderest and most docible age. I call 
 therefore a complete and generous education, that 
 which fits a man to perform j uslly, skilfully, and mag- 
 nanimously all the offices, both private and public, of 
 peace and war. And how all this may be done between 
 twelve and one and twenty, less time than is now be- 
 stowed in pure trifling at grammar and sophistry, is to 
 be thus ordered. 
 
 First, to find out a spacious house and ground about 
 it fit for an academy, and big enough to lodge a hun- 
 dred and tiity persons, whereof twenty or thereabout 
 may be attendants, all under the government of one, 
 who shall be thought of desert suflicient, and ability 
 either to do all, or wisely to direct and oversee it done. 
 This place should be at once both school and university, 
 not needing a remove to any other Tjouse of scholarship, 
 except it be some peculiar college of law, or physic, 
 where they mean to be practitioners ; but as fi)r those 
 general studies which take up all our time from Lilly 
 to commencing, as they term it, master of art, it should 
 be absolute. After this pattern, as many edifices 
 may be converted to this use as shall be needful in 
 every city throughout this land, which would tend 
 much to the increase of learning and civility every 
 where. This number, less or more thus collected, to 
 the convenience of a foot company, or interchangeably 
 two troops of cavalry, should dividejtheir day's work 
 into tliree parts as it lies orderly; their studies, their y 
 exercise, and their diet. / ^ 
 
 For their studies ; first, they should begin with the 
 chief and necessary rules of some good grammar, either 
 that now used, or any better ; and while this is doing, 
 their speech is to be fashioned to a distinct and clear 
 pronunciation, as near as may be to the Italian, espe- 
 cially in the vowels. For we Englishmen being far 
 northerly, do not open our mouths in the cold air wide 
 enough to grace a southern tongue ; but are observed 
 by all other nations to speak exceeding close and in- 
 ward ; so that to smatter Latin with an English mouth, 
 is as ill a hearing as law French. Next, to make them 
 expert in the usefullest points of grammar; and withal 
 to^ season them and win them early to the love of virtue 
 and true labour, ere any flattering seducement or vain 
 
100 
 
 OF EDUCATION. 
 
 principle seize them waudering', some easy and deligbt- 
 I'ul book of education would be read to tiicni ; wberonf 
 the^€rreeks~Kave store, as Cebes, Plutarch, and other 
 Socratic discourses. But in Latin we have none of 
 classic authority extant, except the two or three first 
 books of Quintilian, and some select pieces elsewhere. 
 But here the main skill and g'roundwork will be, to 
 temper them such lectures and explanations upon every 
 opportunitj', as may lead and draw them in willing' 
 obedience, enflaraed with the study of learning", ajid 
 the admiration of virtue ; stirred up with high hopes 
 of living to be brave men, and worthy patriots, dear to 
 God, and famous to all ages. That they may despise 
 and scorn all their childish and illtaught qualities, to 
 delight in manly and liberal exercises ; which he wlio 
 hath the art and proper eloquence to catch them with, 
 what with mild and effectual persuasions, and what 
 with tlie intimation of some fear, if need be, but chiefly 
 by his own example, might in a short space g"ain them 
 to an incredible diligence and courage; infusing into 
 their young breasts such an ingenuous and noble ar- 
 dour, as would not fail to make many of them renowned 
 and matchless men. At the same time, some other hour 
 of the day, might be taught them the rules of arithme- 
 tic, and soon after the elements of geometry, even play- 
 ing, as the old manner was. After evening repast, till 
 bedtime, their thoughts would be best taken up in the 
 easy grounds of religion, and the story of Scripture. 
 The next step would be to the authors of agriculture, 
 Cato, Varro, and Columella, for the matter is most easy ; 
 and if the language be difficult, so much the better, it 
 is not a difficulty above their years. And here will be 
 an occasion of inciting, and enabling them hereafter to 
 improve the tillage of their country, to recover the bad 
 soil, and to remedy the waste that is made of good ; 
 for this was one of Hercules's praises. Ere half these 
 authors be read (which will soon be with plying hard 
 and daily) they cannot choose but be masters of any 
 ordinary prose. So that it will be then seasonable for 
 them to learn in any modern author tiie use of the 
 globes, and all the maps ; first with the old names, and 
 then with the new ; or they might be then capable to 
 read any compendious method of natural philosophy. 
 And at the same time might be entering' into the Greek 
 tongue, after the same manner as was before prescribed 
 in the Latin ; whereby the difficulties of grammar being 
 soon overcome, all the historical physiology of Aris- 
 totle and Theophrastus are open before them, and, as I 
 may say, under contribution. The like access will be 
 to Vitruvius, to Seneca's natural questions, to Mela, 
 Celsus, Pliny, or Solinus. And having thus passed the 
 principles of arithmetic, geometry, astronomy, and 
 geography, with a g^eneral compact of physics, they 
 may descend in mathematics to the instrumental sci- 
 ence of trigonometry, and from thence to fortification, 
 architecture, enginery, or navigation. And in natural 
 philosophy they may proceed leisurely from the history 
 of meteors, minerals, plants, and living creatures, as 
 far as anatomy. Then also in course might be read to 
 them out of some not tedious writer the institution of 
 physic; that they may know the tempers, the humours, 
 
 the seasons, and how to manage a crudity ; which he 
 who can wisely and timely do, is not only a great phy- 
 sician to himself and to his friends, but also may at 
 some time or other save an army by this frugal and 
 expenseless means only ; and not let the healthy and 
 stout bodies of young men rot away under him for want 
 of this discipline ; which is a great pity, and no less a 
 shame to the commander. To set forward all these 
 proceedings in nature and mathematics, what hinders 
 but that they may procure, as oft as shall be needful, the 
 helpful experiences of hunters, fowlers, fishermen, shep- 
 herds, gardeners, apothecaries ; and in the other sci- 
 ences, architects, engineers, mariners, anatomists ; who 
 doubtless would be ready, some for reward, and some 
 to favour such a hopeful seminary. And this will give 
 them such a real tinctufe of natural knowledge, as they 
 shall never forget, but daily augment with delight. 
 Then also those poets which are now counted most 
 hard, will be both facil and pleasant, Orpheus, Hesiod, 
 Theocritus, Aratus, Nicander, Oppian, Dionysius, and 
 in Latin, Lucretius, Manilius, and the rural part of 
 Virgil. 
 
 By this time, years, and good general precepts, will 
 have furnished them more distinctly with that act of 
 reason which in ethics is called Proairesis ; that they 
 may with some judgment contemj)late upon moral 
 good and evil. Then will be required a special rein- 
 forcement of constant and sound indoctrinating to set 
 them right and firm, instructing them more amply in 
 the knowledge of virtue and the hatred of vice ; while 
 their young and pliant affections are led through all 
 the moral works of Plato, Xenophon, Cicero, Plutarch, 
 Laertius, and those Locrian remnants ; but still to be 
 reduced in their nightward studies wherewith they 
 close the day's work, under the determinate sentence 
 of David or Solomon, or the evangels and apostolic 
 Scriptures. Being perfect in the knowledge of per- 
 sonal duly, they may then begin the study of oecono- 
 mics. Rnd either now or before this, they may have 
 easily learned at any odd hour the Italian tongue."^ 
 And soon after, but with wariness and good antidotj^, 
 it would be wholesome enough to let them taste some 
 choice comedies, Greek, Latin, or Italian ; those trage- 
 dies also, that treat of household matters, as Trachinitc, 
 Alcestis, and the like. The next removal must be to 
 the study of politics ; to know the beginning, end, and 
 reasons of political societies ; that they may not in a j 
 dangerous fit of the commonwealth be such poor, ' 
 shaken, uncertain reeds, of such a tottering conscience, 
 as many of our great counsellors have lately shewn J 
 themselves, but stedfast pillars of the state. After this, * 
 they are to dive into the grounds of law, and legal 
 justice; delivered first and with best warrant by Moses; 
 and as far as human prudence can be trusted, in those a 
 extolled remains of Grecian lawgivers, Lycurgus, So- 
 Ion, Zaleucus, Charondas, and thence to all the Roman 
 edicts and tables with their Justinian; and so down to 
 the Saxon and common laws of England, and the 
 statutes. Sundays also and every evening may be now 
 uuderstandingly spent in the highest matters of theo- 
 logy, and church-history ancient and modern ; and ere 
 
OF EDUCATION. 
 
 101 
 
 this time the Hebrew toiigue at a set hour might liave 
 been g-ained, that the Scriptures may be now read in 
 their own original ; whereto it would be no impossi- 
 bility to add the Chaldee, and the Syrian dialect. 
 When all these employments are well conquered, then 
 will the choice histories, heroic poems, and attic trage- 
 dies of stateliest and most regal argument, w ith all the 
 famous political orations, offer themselves; which if 
 they were not only read, but some of them got by 
 memory, and solemnly pronounced with right accent 
 and grace, as might be taught, would endue them 
 even with the spirit and vigour of Demosthenes or 
 Cicero, Euripides, or Sophocles. And now lastly will 
 be the time, to read them with those organic arts, 
 which enable men to discourse and write perspicuously, 
 elegantly, and according to the fltted style of lofty, 
 mean, or lowly. Logic, tlierefore, so much as is useful, 
 is to be referred to this due place with all her well- 
 couched heads and topics, until it be time to open her 
 contracted palm into a graceful and ornate rhetoric 
 taught out of the rule of Plato, Aristotle, Phalcreus, 
 Cicero, Hermogenes, Longiuus. Xp which poetry 
 would be made subsequent, or indeed rather precedent, 
 as being less subtile and fine, but more simple, sensu- 
 ous, and passionate. T mean not here the prosody of 
 a verse, which they could not but have hit on before 
 among the rudiments of grammar; but that sublime 
 art which in Aristotle's poetics, in Horace, and the 
 Italian commentaries of Castlevetro, Tasso, Mazzoni, 
 and others, teaches what the laws are of a true epic 
 poem, what of a dramatic, what of a lyric, what deco- 
 rum is, which is the grand masterpiece to observe. 
 This would make them soon percei'c what despicable 
 creatures our common rhimers and play-writers be ; 
 and shew them what religious, what glorious and 
 magnificent use might be made of poetry, both in 
 divine and human things. From hence, and not till 
 now, will be the right season of forming them to be 
 able writers and composers in every excellent matter, 
 when they shall be thus fraught with an universal 
 insight into things. Or whether they be to sjwak in 
 parliament or council, honour and attention would be 
 waiting on their lips. There would then also appear 
 in pulpits other visages, other gestures, and stuff 
 otherwise wrought than what we now sit under, oft- 
 times to as great a trial of our patience as any other 
 that they preach to us. Tliese are the studies wherein 
 our noble and our gentle youth ought to bestow their 
 time in a disciplinary way from twelve to one and 
 twenty ; unless they rely more upon their ancestors 
 dead than upon themselves living. In which me- 
 thodical course it is so supposed they must proceed by 
 the steady pace of learning onward, as at convenient 
 times, for memory's sake, to retire back into the middle 
 ward, and sometimes into the rear of what they have 
 been taught, until they have confinned and solidly 
 united the whole body of their perfected knowledge, 
 like the last embattelling of a Roman legion. Now 
 will be worth the seeing, what exercises and recreations 
 may best agree, and become these studies. 
 
 THEIR EXfiROtSE* ' ' '^ • '' • 
 
 The course of study hitherto briefly described isj^ 
 what I can guess by reading, likest to those ancient 
 and famous schools of Pythagoras, Plato^^ Isocrates, 
 Aristotle, and such others, out of which were bred such 
 a number of renowned philosophers, orators, historians, 
 poets, and princes all over Greece, Italy, and Asia, 
 besides the flourishing studies of Cyrene and Alexan- 
 dria. But herein it shall exceed them, and supply a 
 defect as great as that which Plato noted in the com- 
 monwealth of Sparta ; whereas that city trained up 
 their youth most for war, and tliese in their academies 
 and Lyceeum all for the gown, this institution of 
 breeding which I here delineate shall be equally good 
 both for peace and wair. Therefore about an^liour and 
 a half ere they eat at noon should be allowed them for 
 exercise, and due rest afterwards; but the time for this 
 may be enlarged at pleasure, according as their rising 
 in the morning shall be early. The exercise which I 
 commend first, is the exact use of their weapon, to 
 guard, and to strike safely with edge or point; this 
 will keep them healthy, nimble, strong, and wejl in 
 breath, is also the likeliest means to make them grow 
 large and tall, and to inspire them with a gallant and 
 fearless courage, which being tempered with season- 
 able lectures and precepts to them of true fortitude 
 and patience, wilHurn into a native and heroic valour, 
 and make them hate the cowardice of doing wrong. 
 They must be also pract ised in all the locks and gripes 
 of wrestling, wherein Englishmen were wont to excel, 
 as need may often be in fight to tug, to grapple, and 
 to close. And this perhaps will be enough, wherein to 
 prove and heat their single strength. The interim of 
 uiisweating themselves regularly, and convenient rest 
 before meat, may both with profit and delight be taken 
 up in recreating and composing their travailed spirits 
 with the solemn and divine harmonies of music heard 
 or learned ; either whilst the skilful organist plies his 
 grave and fancied descant in lofty fugues, or the whole 
 symphony with artful and unimaginable touches adoni 
 and grace the well studied chords of some choice com- 
 poser ; sometimes the lute or soft organ stop waiting on 
 elegant voices, either to religious, martial, or civil dit- 
 ties ; which, if wise men and prophets be not extremely 
 out, have a great power over dispositions and manners, 
 to smooth and make them gentle from rustic harshness 
 and distempered passions. The like also would not be 
 unexpedient after meat, to assist and cherish nature in 
 her first concoction, and send their minds back to 
 study in good tune and satisfaction. Where having 
 followed it close under vigilant eyes, till about two 
 hours before supper, they are by a sudden alarum or 
 watchword, to be called out to their military motions, 
 under sky or covert, according to the season, as was the 
 Roman wont; first on foot, then as their age permits, 
 on horseback, tq^all the art of cavalry ; that having in 
 sport, but with much exactness and daily muster, served 
 out the rudiments of their soldiership, in all the skill of 
 embattling, marching, encamping, fortifying, bi'sicg- 
 
102 
 
 OF EDUCATION. 
 
 in^, Hivl Oalivrijff, ^lith all t!je helps of ancient and mo- 
 deru-stJata^ciui',lacU3S, antl w-arUl«e maxims, they may 
 as it were out of a long war come forth renowned and 
 perfect commanders in the service of their country. 
 They would not then, if they were trusted with fair and 
 })opeful armies, suflTer them for want of just and wise 
 discipline to shed away from ahout them like sick fea- 
 thers, though they he never so oft supplied ; thpy would 
 not suffer their empty and unrecruitable colonels of 
 twenty men in a company, to quaflf out, or convey 
 into secret hoards, the wages of a delusive list, and a 
 miserable remnant ; yet in tlie mean while to be over- 
 mastered with a score or two of drunkards, the only 
 soldiery left about them, or else to comply with all 
 rapines and violences. No certainly, if they knew 
 auyht of that knowledge that belongs to good men or 
 good governors, they would not suffer these things. 
 But to return to our own institute ; besides these con- 
 stant exercises at home, there is anotiier opportunity of 
 gaining experience to be won from pleasure itself abroad ; 
 in those vernal seasons of the year when the air is calm 
 and pleasant, it were an injury and sullenness against 
 nature, not to go out and see her riches, and partake in 
 her rejoicing with heaven and earth. I should not 
 therefore be a persuader to them of studying much 
 then, after two or three years that they have well laid 
 their grounds, but to ride out in companies with prudent 
 and staid guides to all the quarters of the land; learn- 
 ing and obsciTing all places of strength, all commo- 
 dities of building and of soil, for towns and tillage, 
 harbours and ports for trade. Sometimes taking sea as 
 far as to our navy, to learn there also what they can in 
 the practical knowledge of sailing and of sea-fight. 
 These ways would try all their peculiar gifts of nature, 
 and if there were any secret excellence among them 
 would fetch it out, and give it fair opportunities to ad- 
 vance itself by, which could not but mightily redound 
 to the good of this nation, and bring into fashion again 
 those old admired virtues and excellencies with far 
 
 more advantage now in this purity of christian know- 
 ledge. Nor shall we then need the monsieurs of Paris 
 to take our hopeful youtli into their slight and prodigal 
 custodies, and send them over back again transformed 
 into mimics, apes, and kickshows. But if they desire 
 to see other countries at three or four and twenty years 
 of age, not to learn principles, but to enlarge expe- 
 rience, and make wise observation, they will by that 
 time be such as shall deserve the regard and honour of 
 all men where they pass, and the society and friend- 
 ship of those in all places who are best and most emi- 
 nent And perhaps, then other nations will be glad 
 to visit us for their breeding, or else to imitate us in 
 their own country. 
 
 Now lastly for their diet there cannot be much to say, 
 save only that it would be best in the same house ; for 
 much time else would be lost abroad, and many ill 
 habits got ; and that it should be plain, healthful, and 
 moderate, I suppose is out of controversy. Thus Mr. 
 Hartlib, you have a general view in writing, as your 
 desire was, of that, which at several times I had dis- 
 coursed with you concerning the best and noblest way 
 of education ; not beginning as some have done from 
 the cradle, which yet might be worth many considera- 
 tions, if brevity had not been my scope ; many other 
 circumstances also I could have mentioned, but this to 
 such as have the worth in them to make trial, for light 
 and direction may be enough. Only I believe that 
 this is not a bow for every man to shoot in, that counts 
 himself a teacher ; but will require sinews almost 
 equal to those which Homer gave Ulysses; yet I am 
 withal persuaded that it may prove much more easy 
 in the assay, than it now seems at distance, and much 
 more illustrious ; howbeit, not more difficult than I 
 imagine, and that imagination presents me with no- 
 thing but very happy, and very possible according to 
 best wishes ; if God have so decreed, and this age have 
 spirit and capacity enough to apprehend. 
 
AREOPAGITICA:- 
 
 A SPEECH FOR THE L^ERTY OF UNLICENSED PRINTING, 
 
 TO THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. 
 
 o 
 
 Tov\iv$tpov i' ixtivo, it rit 9tXit irdXei 
 Xprtiuv Ti fiouXevfji' ttt fxtaov ipiftt*, txtar- 
 Kai yavff, 6 XppCtv, Xa/ivpor Self, i fii) (^^Awv, 
 l»tj, ti rtirm¥ i%i¥ laaijfpo* woKti ; 
 
 Euripid. Ilicetid. 
 This is true Liberty, when frecl)oni men, 
 Ilax'inf; to adviae the public, may ipeak free, 
 Which he who can, and will, deserves high praise ; 
 Who neither can, nor will, may hold his peace ; 
 What can be juster in a state than this ? 
 
 Euripid. Hicetid. 
 
 They, who to states and governors of the common- 
 wealtli direct their speech, hijjh court of parliament! 
 or wanting- such access in a private condition, write 
 that which they foresee may advance the puhlic good ; 
 I suppose them, as at the beginning of no mean en- 
 deavour, not a little altered and moved inwardly iu 
 their minds ; some with doubt of what will be the suc- 
 cess, others with fear of what will be the censure ; some 
 with hope, others with confidence of what they have to 
 speakj^^TWid me perhaps each of these dispositions, as 
 the sl^j^y^t was whereon I entered, may have at 
 other times variously affected ; and likely might in 
 these foremost expressions now also disclose which of 
 them swayed most, but that the very attempt of this 
 address thus made, and the thought of whom it hath 
 recourse to, hath got the power within me to a passion, 
 far more welcome than incidental to a preface. Which 
 though I stay not to confess ere any ask, I shall be 
 blameless, if it be no other, than the joy and gratiila- 
 tion which it brings to all who wish and promote their 
 cou ntry's liberty ; wh ereof t his whole d iscourse pro - 
 posed will beajyirtaia4estimony, if noFatroghy. For 
 this is not the liberty which we can hope, that no 
 grievance ever should arise in the commonwealth, that 
 let no man in this world expect ; but when complaints 
 are freely heard, deeply considered, and speedily re- 
 formed, then_is_the_utmost_b£UlLd_of civil libert^_j)b- 
 taiued that_wise_men loo k for . To which if I now 
 manifest, by the very sound of this which I shall utter, 
 that we are already in good part arrived, and yet from 
 such a steep disadvantage of tyranny and superstition 
 grounded into our principles, as was bej'ond the man- 
 
 hood of a Roman recovery, it wil l be attributed first, 
 as is most duejt o the strong assistanccbrGod. ou r de- 
 livererfloext to your faithful guidance^ a n d undaunte d 
 wistlom, lords and commons^fEngland ! Neither is it 
 in GodVcsIeein, the^ffTrainiTtion of his glory, w hen ho- 
 nourable things are spoken of good men, and worthy 
 magistrates ; which if I now first should begin to do 
 after so fair a progress of your laudable deeds, and such 
 along obligemeut upon the whole realm to your inde- 
 fatigable virtues, I might be justly reckoned among 
 the tardiest and the unwillingest of them that praise 
 ye. Nevertheless there being three principal things, 
 without which all praising is but courtship and flattery ; 
 first , when that on ly: is praised which is solidly worth 
 praise ; next, when gTcat est_like>'>'"0^« arc brought, 
 that such things are.iruly and j^eailyou. those- persons, 
 to whom they are ascribed ; the other, when he who 
 pra is^^by shewingl^ at such bis actual persuasion is 
 of whom_he_WriteS3^ canTlemonstratft that^Kft Jatfprs n nt. ; 
 the former two of these I have heretofore endeavoured, 
 rescuing the employment from him who went about to 
 impair your merits with a trivial and malignant enco- 
 mium; the latter as belonging chiefly to mine own 
 acquittal, that whom I so extolled I did not flatter, 
 hath been reserved opportunely to this occasion. For 
 he who freely magnifies what hath been nobly done, 
 and fears not to declare as freely what might he done 
 better, gives ye the best covenant of his fidelity ; and 
 that his loyalest affection and his hope waits on your 
 proceedings. His highest praising is not flatter}', and 
 his plainest advice is a kind of praising; for though 
 I should affirm and hold by argument, that it 
 
lot 
 
 A SPEECH FOR THE LIBERTY 
 
 would fare better with truth, with learning', and the 
 commonwealtli, if one of your published orders, which 
 I should name, were called in ; yet at the same 
 time it could not but much redound to the lustre 
 of jour mild and equal government, whenas pri- 
 vate persons arc hereby animated to think ye better 
 ' P^g*sed wi th public advice, than other statists have 
 '_begn delighted heret ofore with publJQ .flattcryi . And 
 men will then see what difference there is between the 
 magnanimity of a triennial parliament, and that jealous 
 haughtiness of prelates and cabin counsellors that 
 usurped of late, whenas they shall observe ye in the 
 midst of your victories and successes more g'ently brook- 
 ing' written exceptions against a voted order, than other 
 courts, which had produced nothing worth memory but 
 the weak ostentation of wealth, would have endured 
 the least signified dislike at any sudden proclamation. 
 If I should thus far presume upon the meek demeanour 
 of your civil and gentle greatness, lords and commons I 
 as what your published order hath directly said, that 
 to gainsay, I might defend myself with ease, if any 
 should accuse me of being new or insolent, did they 
 but know how much better T find ye esteem it to imi- 
 tate the old and elegant humanity of Greece, than the 
 barbaric pride of a Hunnish and Norwegian stateliness. 
 And out of those ages, to whose polite wisdom and let- 
 ters we owe that we are not yet Goths and Jutlanders, 
 I could name him who from his private house wrote 
 that discourse to the parliament of Athens, that per- 
 suades them to change the form of democraty which 
 was then established. Such honour was done in those 
 days to men who professed the study of wisdom and 
 eloquence, not only in their own country, but in other 
 lands, that cities and signiories heard them gladly, and 
 with great respect, if they had aught in public to ad- 
 monish the state. Thus did Dion Prusaeus, a stranger 
 and a private orator, counsel the Rhodians against a 
 former edict ; and I abound with other like examples, 
 which to set here would be superfluous. But if from 
 the industry of a life wholly dedicated to studious 
 labours, and those natural endowments haply not the 
 worst for two and fifty degrees of northern latitude, so 
 much must be derogated, as to count me not equal to 
 any of those who had this privilege, I would obtain to 
 be thought not so inferior, as yourselves are superior 
 to the most of them who received their counsel ; and 
 how far you excel them, be assured, lords and com- 
 mons! there can no greater testimony appear, than 
 when your prudent spirit acknowledges and obeys the 
 Toice of reason, from what quarter soever it be heard 
 speaking ; and renders ye as willing to repeal any act 
 of your own setting forth, as any set forth by your pre- 
 decessors. 
 
 If ye be thus resolved, as it were injury to think ye 
 were not, I know not what should withhold me from 
 presenting ye with a fit instance wherein to shew both 
 t hat -ln te ^f truth which ye eminently prof ess, and that 
 iiprTjrtifnt>c«t fif jLOurjudgmc nt which is noL wont to be 
 partmlJa ^flUIselv^ ; byjudgmg over again that order 
 which ye have ordained ^to regulate printing; that no 
 600V, pamphlet, or paper, shall be henceforth printed, 
 
 unless the same be firet approved and licensed by such, 
 or at least one of such, as sliall be thereto appointed. 
 J'or that part which preserves justly every man's copj 
 to himself, or provides for the poor, I touch not; only 
 wish they be not made pretences to abuse and persecute 
 honest and painful men, who offend not in either of' 
 these particulars. But that other clause of licensing 
 books, which we thought had died with his brother 
 quadragesimal and matrimonial when the prelates ex- 
 pired, I sh all now attend with such_a_honiily, as shall 
 lay before ye", first" The in ventorsjont^ t" 1h^ thg^ e whom 
 ye will be loth to own ; next, what j^ljrieJJhllugjit in^ 
 general of reaJing,~w1iatev er sort the books be ; and 
 thar this_order avails nothing to the sup pressing of 
 scandalous, seditious, and libellous books, which "were 
 mainly intended to be suppressed. Last, that it will 
 be primely to the discouragement of all learning, and 
 the stoportruth, not only by djseserfiising and blunt 
 ing our abilities, Tn^what we know already, but by 
 hindering and cropping the discovery that might be 
 yet further made, both in religious and civil wisdom. 
 
 I deny not, but that it is of greatest concernment in 
 the church and commonwealth, to have a vigilant eye 
 how books demean themselves as well as men ; and 
 thereafter to confine, inmrison, and do sharpest justice 
 on them as malefactorsy for books are not absolutely 
 dead things, but do contain a progeny of life in them 
 to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they 
 are ; nay, they do preserve as in a vial tlie purest effi- 
 cacy and extraction of that living intellect that bred 
 them. I know they are as lively, and as vigorously 
 productive, as those fabulous dragon's teeth ; and being 
 sown up and down, may chance to spring up armed 
 men. And yet on the other hand, unless wariness be 
 usedij as good almost kill a man as kill a good book ; 
 /^who kills a man kills a reasonable creature, God's 
 j image ; but he who destroys a good bo ok, kills reaa^ 
 'i^itself, kills the image of God, as it were in the eye . 
 [Many a man lives a burden to the earth ; but a good 
 , book is the precious lifeblood of a master spiritTi m- 
 balmed and treasured up on purpose to a life beyond 
 ': life. 1^ is true, no age can restore a life, whereof per- 
 haps^ere is no great loss; and revolutions of ages do 
 not oft recover the loss of a rejected truth, for the want 
 of which whole nations fare the worse. We should be 
 wary therefore what persecution we raise against the 
 living labours of public men, how we spill that seasoned 
 life of man, preserved and stored up in books ; since 
 we see a kind of homicide may be thus committed, 
 sometimes a martyrdom ; and if it extend to the whole 
 impression, a kind of massacre, whereof the execution 
 ends not in the slaying of an elemental life, but strikes 
 at the {Ethereal and fifth essence, the breath of reason 
 itself; slays an immortality rather than a life. But lest 
 1 should be condemned of introducing licence, while I 
 oppose licensing, I refuse not the pains to be so much 
 historical, as will serve to shew what hath been done 
 by ancient and famous commonwealths, against this 
 disorder, till the very tijiic_that this project o f licensing 
 crept out of the inquisition, was catched up by our pre- 
 lates, and hath caughfsoTne of our presbyters. 
 
rZo€f ^^^^f^-s s*^iy^Atrj;rir^ 
 
 ^/^ ^ r'ce*:-^ 
 
 OF UNLICENSED PRINTING. 
 
 105 
 
 In Athens, where books and wits were ever busier 
 than in any other part of Greece, I find but only two 
 sorts of writing's which the majjistrate cared to take 
 notice of; those either hlaspliejaums aad^a^hpi'sit iVal^ ^ 
 libell ous. Thus the books of Protasforas were by the 
 
 judges of Areopag'us commanded to be burnt, and him- 
 self banished the territory for a discourse, begun with 
 his confessing not to know, " whether there were gods, 
 or whether not." And against defaming, it was agreed 
 that none should be traduced by name, as was the man- 
 ner of Vetus Comcedia, whereby we may guess how 
 they censured libelling; and this course was quick 
 enough, as Cicero writes, to quell both the desperate 
 wits of other atheists, and the open way of defaming, 
 as the event shewed. Of other sects and opinions, 
 though tending to voluptuousness, and tlic denying of 
 divine Providence, they took no heed. Therefore we 
 do npt read that either Epicurus, or that libertine school 
 of Cyrene, or what the Cynic impudence uttered, was 
 ever questioned by the laws. Neither is it recorded, 
 that the writings of ih()sc old comedians were suppress- 
 ed, though the acting of them were forbid ; and that 
 Elato ff>r^]rn nn jpd the reading of Aristophanes, the 
 loosest of them all, to his royal scholar Dionysius, is 
 commonly known, and may be excused, if holy Chry- 
 sostom, as is reported, nightly studied so much the 
 same author, and had the art to cleanse a scurrilous 
 vehemence into the style of a rousing sermon. That 
 other leading city of Greece, Lacedtemon, considering 
 tliat Ijycurgus their lawgiver was so addicted to ele- 
 gant learning, as to have been the first that brought 
 out of Ionia the scattered works of Homer, and sent 
 the poet Thalcs from Crete to prepare and mollify the 
 Spartan surliness with his smooth songs and odes, the 
 better to plant among them law and civility ; it is to 
 be wondered how museless and unbookish they were, 
 minding nought but the feats of war. There needed 
 no licensing of books among them, for they disliked all 
 but their own laconic apophthegms, and took a slight 
 occasion to chase Archilocus out of their city, perhaps 
 for composing in a higher strain than their own soldiery, 
 ballads, and roundels, could reach to ; or if it were for 
 his broad verses, they were not therein so cautious, but 
 they were as dissolute in their promiscuous conversing; 
 whence Euripides affirms in Andromache, that their 
 •women were all unchaste. This much may give us 
 light after what sort of books were prohibited among 
 the Greeks. The Romans also for many ages trained 
 up only to a military roughness, resembling most the 
 Lacedaemonian guise, knew of learning little but what 
 their twelve tables and the pontific college with their 
 augurs and flamins taught them in r eligion and lajK.; 
 so unacquainted with other learning, that w^en Car- 
 neades and Critolaus, vvitii the stoic DiogenoB, coming 
 embassadors to Rome, took thereby occasion to give 
 the city a taste of their philosophy, they were suspected 
 for seducers by no less a man than Cato the censor, 
 who moved it in the senate to dismiss them speedily, 
 and (0 banish all such Attic babblers out of Italy. But 
 Scipio and others of the noblest senators withstood him 
 and his old Sabiu austerity ; honoured and admired the 
 
 men ; and the censor himself at last, in his old age, fell 
 to the study of that whereof before he was so scrupulous. 
 And yet at the same time, Nsevius and Plautus, the 
 first Latin comedians, had filled the city with all the 
 borrowed scenes of Menander and Philemon. Then 
 began to be considered there also what was to be done 
 to libellous books and authors ; for Ncevius was quickly 
 cast into prison for his unbridled pen, and released by 
 the tribunes upon his recantation ; we read also that 
 l ihplj< ^vp f" ^"■'•"»| and the makers punished, by Augus- 
 tus. The like severity, no doubt, was used, if aught 
 were impiously written against their esteemed gods. 
 Except in these two points, how the world went in 
 books, the mag istrate kept no reckoning. And there- 
 fore Lucretius, without impeachment, versifies his Ej)i- 
 curism to Menimius, and had the honour to be set forth 
 the second time by Cicero, so great a father of tlie 
 commonwealth ; although himself disputes against that 
 opinion in his own writings. Nor was the satirical 
 sharpness or naked plainness of Lucilius, or Catullus, 
 or Flaccus, by any order prohibited. And for matters 
 of state, the story of Titus Livius, though it extolled 
 that part which Pompey held, was not therefore sup- 
 pressed by Octavius Csesar, of the other faction. But 
 that Naso was by him banished in his old age, for the 
 wanton poems of his youth, was but a mere covert of 
 state over some secret cause ; and besides, tlie books 
 were neither banished nor called in. From hence we 
 shall meet with little else but tyranny in the Roman 
 empire, that we may not marvel, if not so often bad as 
 good books were silenced. I shall tlierefore deem to 
 have been large enough, in producing what among the 
 ancients was punishable to write, save only which, all 
 other arguments were free to treat on. 
 
 By this time the emperors were become Christians 
 whose discipline in this point I do not find to have been 
 more severe than what was formerly in practice. The 
 books of those whom they took to be grand heretic s 
 were examined, refuted, and condemned in the general 
 c ojiflcils ; and not till then were prohibited, or burnt, 
 l)V authority of the emperor. As for the writings of 
 heathen authors, unless they were plain invectives 
 against Christianity, as those of Porpiiyrius and Pro- 
 clus, they met with no interdict that can be cited, till 
 about 4h^j'H!<r 4"",   >»^Cjirth}i(riiiiau (Mmncil, wherein 
 bishops themselves were forbid to read the books of 
 gentiles, but heresies they might read ; while *others 
 long before them on the contrary scrupled more the 
 books of heretics, than of gentiles. And that the pri- 
 mitive councils and bishops were wont only to declare 
 what books were not commendable, passing no furtiier, 
 but leaving it to each one's conscience to read or to lay 
 by, til l after the year 800, is observed already by P adre 
 Paolo the great unmasker of the Trentine council. 
 After which tim e the popes of R orne, engrossing what 
 they pleased of political rule into their own hands, ex- 
 tended their dominion over men's eyes, as they had 
 before over their judgments, burning and prohibiting 
 to be read what they fancied not ; yet sparing in their 
 censures, and the books not many which they so dealt 
 with ; till Martin the fifth, by his bull, not only pro- 
 
106 
 
 A SPEECH FOR THE LIBERTY 
 
 .t-j^Cf)^rr\ 
 
 liibited, but was llie first that excommunicated the 
 reading of heretical books; for about that time Wick- 
 liffe and Husse growing^ terrible, were they who first 
 dreve the papal court to astriclerpolicy of prohibiting'. 
 Which course Leo the tenth and his successors follow- 
 ed, until the council of Trent and the Spanish inquisi- 
 tion engendering together brought forth or perfected 
 those catalogues and expurging indexes, that rake 
 through the entrails of many an old good author, with 
 a violation worse than any could be offered to his tomb. 
 Nor did they stay in matters heretical, but any subjeji^ 
 that was not to their palate, they either condemned-io. 
 a prohibition, or had it straight into the new Pur gatory 
 of an index. To fill up the measure of encroachment, 
 their last invention was to ordain tliat no book, pam- 
 phlet, or paper, should be printed (as if St. Peter had 
 bequeathed them the keys of the press also as well as 
 of Paradise) unless it were approved and licensed under 
 the hands oftwo or three gluttonous friars. For example: 
 
 Let the chancellor Cini be pleased to see if in this 
 present work be contained aught that may with- 
 stand the printing ; 
 • Vincent Rabbata, vicar of Florence. 
 
 I have seen this present work, and find nothing 
 athwart the catholic faith and good manners; 
 in witness whereof I have given, &c. 
 
 Nicole Cini, chancellor of Florence. 
 
 Attending the precedent relation, it is allowed that 
 
 this present work of Davanzati may be printed, 
 
 Vincent Rabatta, &c. 
 
 It may be printed, July 15. 
 
 Friar Simon Mompei d'Amelia, chancellor of the 
 holy office in Florence. 
 
 Sure they hare a conceit, if he of the bottomless pit 
 had not long since broke prison, that this quadruple 
 exorcism would bar him down. I fear their next de- 
 sign will be to get into their custody the licensing of 
 that which they say Claudius intended,* but went not 
 through with. Vouchsafe to see another of their forms, 
 the Roman stamp ; 
 
 Imprimatur, If it seem g^od to the reverend master 
 of the holy palace, Belcastro, vicegerent. 
 
 Imprimatur, 
 Friar Nicholo Rodolphi, master of the holy palace. 
 
 Sometimes five imprimaturs are seen together dia- 
 logue wise in the piatza of one titlepage, compliment- 
 ing and ducking each to other with their shaven reve- 
 rences, whether the author, who stands by in perplexity 
 at the foot of his epistle, shall to the press or to the 
 spungc. These arc the pretty rcsponsories, these are 
 the dear antiphonies, that so bewitched of late our prc- 
 
 * Quo vcniam daret flatum crepitomque veotris in convivin emittendi. 
 
 Suetoti. in CUudio. 
 
 lates and their chaplains, with the goodly echo they 
 made; and besotted us to the gay imitation of a lordly 
 imprimatur, one from Lambeth-house, another from the 
 west end of Paul's ; so apishly romanizing, that the 
 [word of command still was set down in Latin ; as if the 
 learned grammatical pen that wrote it would cast no 
 ink without Latin ; or perhaps, as they thought, be- 
 cause no vulgar tongue was worthy to express the pure 
 conceit of an imprimatur ; but rather, as I hope, for that 
 our English, the language of men ever famous and 
 foremost in the achievements of liberty, will not easily 
 I find servile letters enow to spell such a dictatory pre- 
 sumption Englished. And thus ye have the inventors 
 and the original of book licensing ripped up and drawn 
 as lineally as any pedigree. /We have it not, that can 
 Jbe heard of, from any ancient state, or polity, or church, 
 nor by any statute left us by our ancestors elder or 
 later ; nor from the modern custom of any reformed city 
 or church abroad ; but from the most autichristian 
 council, and the most tyrannous inquisition, that ever 
 inquired. Till then books were ever as freely admitted 
 into the world as any other birth ; the issue of the brain 
 was no more stifled than the issue of the womb ; no 
 envious Juno sat crosslegged over the nativity of any 
 man's intellectual offspring ; but if it proved a monster, 
 who denies but that it was justly burnt, or sunk into 
 the sea .' But that a book, in worse condition than a 
 peccant soul, should be to stand before a jury ere it be 
 born to the world, and undergo yet in darkness the 
 judgment of Radamanth and his colleagues, ere it can 
 pass the ferry backward into light, was never heard 
 before, till that mysterious iniquity, provoked and 
 troubled at the first entrance of reformation, sought out 
 new Limboes and new Hells wherein they might in- 
 clude our books also within the number of their damned. 
 And this was the rare moj-sel so ofliciously snatched up, 
 and so illfavouredly imitated by our inquisiturient 
 bishops, and the attendant minorites their chaplains. 
 That ye like not now these most certain authors of this 
 licensing order, and that all sinister intention was far 
 distant from your thoughts, when ye were importuned 
 the passing it, all men who know the integrity of your 
 actions, and how ye honour truth, will clear ye readily 
 But some will say, what though the inventors were 
 bad, the thing for all that may be good. It may so ; 
 yet if that thing be no such deep invention, but obvious 
 and easy for ^Dy_mau_tfl_Ii ght on^ and yet best and 
 wisest commonwealths through all ages_aml occasions 
 havgjbrboro to use it, and Wisest seducers and oppres- 
 sors of men were the first who took it up, and to no 
 other purpose but to obstruct and hinder the first ap- 
 proach of reformation ; I am of those who believe, it 
 will be a harder alchymj' than Lullius ever knew, to 
 sublimate any good use out of such an invention. Yet 
 this only is what I request to gain from this reason, 
 that it may be held a dangerous and suspicious fruit, 
 as certainly it deserves, for the tree that bore it, until I 
 can dissect one by one the properties it has. But I 
 have first to finish, as was propounded, what is to, be 
 
OF UNLICENSED PRINTING. 
 
 107 
 
 thought in general of read ing books, whatever sort they 
 be, and whether be more the benent or the harm that 
 thence proceeds. 
 
 Not to insist upon the examples of Moses, Daniel, 
 and Paul, who were skilful in all the learning of the 
 Egyptians, Chaldeans, and Greeks, which could not 
 probably be without reading their books of all sorts, in 
 Paul especially, who thought it no defilement to insert 
 into holy Scripture the sentences of three Greek poets, 
 and one of them a tragedian ; the question was not- 
 withstanding sometimes controverted among the pri- 
 mitive doctors, but with great odds on that side which 
 affirmed it both lawful and profitable, as was then 
 evidently perceived, when Julian the Apostate, and 
 subtlest enemy to our faith, made a decree forbidding 
 Christians the study of heathen learning ; for said he, 
 they wound us with our own weapons, and with our 
 own arts and sciences they overcome us. And indeed 
 the Christians were put so to their shifts' by this crafty 
 means, and so much in danger to decline into all igno- 
 rance, that the two Appollinarii were fain, as a man 
 may say, to coin all the seven liberal sciences out of 
 the Bible, reducing it into divers forms of orations, 
 poems, dialogues, even to the calculating of a new 
 christian grammar. But, saith the historian Socrates, 
 the providence of God provided better than the industry 
 of ApoUinarius and his son, by taking away that illite- 
 rate law with the life of him who devised it. So great 
 an injury they then held it to be deprived of Hellenic 
 learning; and thought it a persecution more under- 
 mining, and secretly decaying the church, than the 
 open cruelty of Decius or Dioclesian. And perhaps it 
 was the same politic drift that the devil whipped St. 
 Jerom in a lenten dream, for reading Cicero ; or else it 
 was a phantasm, bred by the fever which had then 
 seized him. For had an angel been bis di.scipliner, 
 unless it were for dwelling too much on Ciceronianisms, 
 and had chastised the reading, not the vanity, it had 
 been plainly partial ; first to correct him for grave 
 Cicero, and not for scurril Plautus, whom he confesses 
 to have been reading not long before; next to correct 
 him only, and let so many more ancient fathers wax 
 old in those pleasant and florid studies without the 
 lash of such a tutoring apparition ; insomuch that Basil 
 teaches how some good use may be made of Margites, 
 a sportful poem, not now extant, writ by Homer; and 
 why not then of Morgante, an Italian romance much 
 to the same purpose ? But if it be agreed we shall be 
 tried by visions, there is a vision recorded by Eusebius, 
 far ancienter than this tale of Jerom, to the nun Eusto- 
 chium, and besides, has nothing of a fever in it. Dio- 
 nysi.us Alexandrinus was, about the year 240, a person 
 of great name in the church, for piety and learning, 
 who had wont to avail himself much against heretics, 
 by being conversant in their books; until a certain 
 presbyter laid it scrupulously to his conscience, how 
 he durst venture himself among those defiling volumes. 
 The worthy man, loth to give offence, fell into a new 
 debate with himself, what was to be thought; when 
 suddenly aj^isioixsent frorn^God (it is his own epistle 
 that so avers it) confirmed him in these words : " Read 
 
 any books whatever come to thy hands, fiw thntt ^ff _ 
 
 "sufficient Jiothi^ to Judge aright, and to examine each 
 inattfix;" To this reveTatioiT be assented ihe sooner, as 
 he confesses, because it was answerable to that of the 
 apostle to the Thessalonians ; " Prove all things, hold 
 fast that which is good," And he might have added 
 another remarkable saying of the same author : " Xp 
 the pure, al l thi uL^s ar c pure ; " not only meats and 
 drinks, but all kind of knowledge, whether of good or 
 evil ; the k nowledge cannot defile, nor con sequently 
 the books, i^ the will and conscience be not defil ed. 
 Eot-beokg^are as meat s an J viand s^anej^ some of good, 
 some of evil suTistance ; and yet God in that unapocry- 
 phal vision said without exception, " Rise, Peter, kill 
 and cat;" leaving the choice to each man's discretion. 
 Wholesome meats to a vitiated stomach differ little or 
 nothing from unwholesome; and best books to a 
 naughty mind are not unapplicable to occasions of 
 evil. Bad meats will scarce breed good nourishment 
 in the healthiest concoction ; but herein the diflTerence 
 is of bad books, that they to a discreet and judicious 
 readfilLserye in many respects -t o-tliscovgr. to confute, 
 to forewarn, and to^iUiisJiEata. — Whereof what better 
 witness can ye 'expect I sho uld produ ce, than one of 
 your own now sit ting in parlia ment, the chief oTIearned 
 men reputed in tbis land, Mr. seiaen ; wTiosevolume 
 of natural and national laVP9^pnffii^i»*t only by great 
 authorities brought together, but by exquisite reasons 
 and theorems almost mathematically demonstrative, 
 that all opi nions , vrn rrrfnirs, kninvn. -fv! •iid col- 
 lati'cl, arc of main ^. r\ i, , ami a^-i-i u d the 
 
 spct:Jy atta in nic II I oi'wha \ \j/i friif>;t. I concLive there- 
 fore, that w'lien God did enlarge the universal diet of 
 man's body, (saving ever the rules of temperance,) Ji^e 
 tlien also, as before, left arbitrary the dieting and re- 
 pasting of our minds ; as wherein every mature man 
 might have to exercise his own leading capacity. How 
 great a virtue is temperance, how much of moment 
 through the whole life of man ! Yet God commits the 
 managing so great a trust without particular law or 
 prescription, wholly to the demeanour of every grown 
 man. And therefore when he himself tabled the Jews 
 from heaven, that omer, which was every man's daily 
 portion of manna, is computed to have been more than 
 might have well sufficed the heartiest feeder thrice as 
 many meals. For those actions which enter into a man^ 
 rather than issue out of him, and therefore defile not, 
 God uses not to captivate under a perpetual childhood 
 of prescription, but trusts him with the gift of reason 
 to be his own chooser; there were but little work left 
 for preaching, if law and compulsion should grow so 
 fast upon those things which heretofore were governed 
 only by exhortation. ^Solomon informs us, that much 
 reading is a wearines Ao the flesh ; but neither he, nor 
 other inspired author, tells us that such or such reading 
 is unlawful ; yet certainly had God thought good to 
 limit us herein, it had been much more expedient to 
 have told us what was unlawful, than what was 
 wearisome. As for the burning of those Ephesian 
 books by St. Paul's converts; it is replied, the books 
 were magic, the Syriac so renders them. It was a 
 
106 
 
 A SPEECH FOR THE LIBERTY 
 
 private act, a voluntary act, and leaves us to a volun- 
 tary imitation : the men in remorse burnt those books 
 which were their own; the magistrate by this exam- 
 ple is not appointed ; these men practised the books, 
 another mjirht perhaps have read them in some sort 
 usefully. JGood and evil wc know in the field of this 
 world grow up together almost inseparably ; and the 
 knowledge of good is so involved and interwoven with 
 the knowledge of evil, and in so many cunning resem- 
 blances hardly to be discerned, that those confused 
 seeds which were imposed upon Psyche as an incessant 
 labour to cull out, and sort asunder, were not more 
 intermixed. It was from out the rind of one apple 
 tasted, that the knowledge of good and evil, as two 
 twins cleaving together, leaped fortli into the world. 
 And perhaps this is that doom which Adam fell into of 
 knowing good aiMLeJal,-tbltisJtosaj'jj)f knowing g ood 
 b ^^vil. As therefore the state of man now is ; what 
 wisdom can there be to choose, what continence to for- 
 bear, without the knowledge of evil ? He that can a p- 
 prehend and consider V '''' with j jl faer baits and se em- 
 in g pleasures, and yet abstain^ ^and-jtetdistioguish, and 
 ye t pre fer that which is truly b etter, he i s th^ tru e 
 Cv^wyi«nngXll| jStian. | T~caBgot praise a fugitive and 
 ^ cloistered virtue unexercised, and unbreathed, that 
 never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out 
 of the race, where that immortal garland is to be run 
 for, not without dust and heat. Assuredly wc bring 
 not inn ocenc e into the wor^. we ^ripf "^ip'""'^y n^npTi 
 
 ler; that 
 
 Jlriali^iX. 
 
 I wjj^Hsgonlr^'. That virtue therefore which is but a 
 youngling in the contemplation of evil, and knows not 
 the utmost that vice promises to her followers, and re- 
 jects it, is but a blank virtue, not a pure ; her white- 
 ness is but an excremental whiteness ; which was the 
 reason why our sage and serious poet Spen ser, (whom 
 I dare be known to think a better teacher than Scotus 
 or Aquinas,) describing true temperance under the 
 person of Guion, brings him in with his palmer through 
 the cave of Mammon, and the bower of earthly bliss, 
 tbat lie mij^bt see and know, and yet abstain. Since 
 therefore the knowledge and survey of vice is in this 
 world-sa_n££essary_lft_the_constituting of human virtue, 
 and the scanning of errourtotHeconfirmation drfrutb, 
 how can we more safely, and with less danger, scout 
 Knto the regions of sin and falsity, than by reading all 
 Y^/inanner of tractates, and hearing all manner of reason.-' 
 I TV And this is thp ^pnefit which may be had ofbooks pro - 
 miscuously read.y But of the harm that may result 
 lience, three kinds are usually reckoned. First, is 
 ^7earp£^i^n£^|i^|^hMm^^yjrea(^but then, all hu- 
 man learning and controversy in religious points must 
 remove out of the world, yea, the Bible itself; for that 
 ofttimes relates blasphemy not nicely, it describes the 
 carnal sense of wicked men not unelegantly, it brings 
 in holiest men passionately murmuring against pro- 
 vidence through all the arguments of Epicurus ; in 
 other great disputes it answers dubiously and darkly 
 to the common reader; and ask a Talmudist what ails 
 the modesty of his marginal Keri, that Moses and all 
 the prophets cannot persuade him to pronounce the tex- 
 
 tual Chetiv. For these causes we all know the Bible 
 itself put by the papist intt> the first rank of prohibited 
 books. The aneientest fathers must be next removed, 
 as Clement of Alexandria, and tbat Eusebian book of 
 evangelic preparation, transmitting our ears througli 
 a hoard of heathenish obscenities to receive the gospel. 
 Who finds not that Jrenu?us, Epiphanius, Jcrom, and 
 others discover more heresies than they well confute, 
 and that oft for heresy which is the truer opinion ? Nor 
 boots it to say for these, and all the heathen writers of 
 greatest infection if it must be thought so, with whom 
 is bound up the life of human learning, that they writ 
 in an unknown tongue, so long as we are sure those 
 languages are known as well to the worst of men, who 
 arc both most able, and most diligent to instil the 
 poison they suck, first into the courts of princes, ac- 
 quainting them with the choicest delights, and criti- 
 cisms of sin. As perhaps did that Petronius. whom 
 Nero called his arbiter, the master of his revels; and 
 that notorious ribald of Arezzo, dreaded and yet dear 
 to the Italian courtiei-s. I name not him for posterity's 
 sake, whom Henry the Eighth named in merriment 
 his vicar of hell. By which compendious way all the 
 contagion that foreign books can infuse will find a 
 passage to the people far easier and shorter than an 
 Indian voyage, though it could be sailed either by 
 the north of Cataio eastward, or of Canada westward, 
 while our Spanish licensing gags the English press 
 never so severely. But on the other side, that infec - 
 tion which ii} fr pji _hfloks^-«f^eenlrflE£rsy '" rpUgion, is 
 more doubtful and danyerous tQ-ibe-XeatDai^jliaa to 
 theJgggrantj and yet those books must be permitted 
 untouched by the licenser. It will be hard to instance 
 where any ignorant man hath h££n_eyer seduced b^ 
 any papistical book in English, unless it were com- 
 mended and expounded to him by some of that clergy^ 
 and indeed all such tractates, whether false or true, are 
 as the prophecy of Isaiah was to the eunuch, noMj^je 
 " undexstood withouLa guide." But of our priests and 
 
 doctors how many have ueen corrupted by studying the 
 comments of Jesuits and Sorbonists, and how fast they 
 could transfuse that corruption into the people, our ex- 
 perience is both late and sad. It is not forgot, since 
 the acute and distinct Arminius was perverted merely 
 by the perusing of a nameless discourse written at 
 Delft, which at firet he took in hand to confute. Seeing 
 therefore that those books, and those in great abun- 
 dance which are likeliest to taint both life and doctrine,- 
 cannot be suppressed without the fall of learning, and 
 of all ability in disputation, and that these books of 
 either sort are most and soonest catching to the learned, 
 (from whom to the common people whatever is heretical 
 or dissolute may quickly be conveyed,) and_that_£jiiil 
 ma nners are as perfe cthdearnt without hooks a thousand 
 ofher ways which can not be stoppe<i « and evil doctrine 
 not with books can propagate, except a teacijcr guide, 
 wiiich he might also do without writing, and so beyond 
 prohibiting; I am not unable to unfold, how this cautc- 
 lous enterprise of licensing can be exempted from the 
 number of vain and impossible attempts. And he who 
 were pleasantly disposed, could not well avoid to liken 
 
it to the exploit of that gallant man, who thought to 
 pound up the crows by shutting his park gate. Besides 
 anot hgr inconvenience, if le ^rii£d--meH-b^ the first re- 
 ce iver^^ut of books^ and disp rgBd'*'^ ^'"th of y'K'j and 
 t^rrnfir, how shall the licensers th em selves be confi ded 
 in^Ufiless we can confer upon thera^or^he^^^ssume to 
 theni selvg salwve~all others In the land, the grace of 
 _ijl|iUlibility~an^juH«©iaai£^ again, if it be 
 
 true, that a wise man, like a good refiner, can gather 
 gold out of the drossiest volume, and that a fool will 
 be a fool with the best book, yea, or without book ; 
 there is no reason that we should deprive a wise man 
 of any advantage to his wisdom, while we seek to re- 
 strain from a fool that which being restrained will be 
 no hinderance to his folly. For if there should be so 
 much exactness always used to keep that from him 
 which is unfit for his reading, we should in the judg- 
 ment of Aristotle not only, but of Solomon, and of our 
 Saviour, not vouchsafe him good precepts, and by con- 
 sequence not willingly admit him to good books ; as 
 being certain that a wise man will make better use of 
 jiftU idle pamphlet, than a fool will do of sacred Scripture. 
 K , It is next alleged, we must not expose ourselves , to 
 'temptations with out uecessity, n^j next to that^ not 
 efii[noy''<mf-tTnie"Tii_vai n^ things. [ To both these objec- 
 tions one answer will serve, out of the grounds already 
 
 OF UNLICENSED PRINTING. 109 
 
 bulk than his own dialogues would be abundant. And 
 there also enacts , that no poet should so much as read 
 to anj'pnvatc man what he had written, u ntil tlie 
 judges and law ki i p. is had seerTit^ andanowed i^ j 
 But that Platii III. ml 
 
 1 awjgec^Iar^^2o_^hat_cora; 
 mon w ealth w|j:ich he iia-d_ijiia ^yIiifid»-anJjULno oUier. 
 is fiviflftnt.. Why was he not else a lawgiver to him- 
 self, but a transgressor, and to be expelled by his own 
 _^I]^^tmte^, both for the wanton epigrams and dia- 
 fogues which he made, and his perpetual reading of 
 Sophron, Mimus, and Aristophanes, books of grossest 
 infamy ; and also for commending the latter of them, 
 though he were the malicious libeller of his chief friends, 
 to be read by the tyrant Dionysius, who had little need 
 of such trash to spend his time on ? But that he knew 
 this licensing of poems had reference and dependance 
 to many other provisoes there set down in his fancied 
 republic, which in this world could have no place ; 
 and so neither he himself, nor any magistrate or city 
 ever imitated that course, which taken apart from those 
 other collateral injunctions must needs be vain and 
 fruitless. For if they fell upon one kind of strictness, 
 unless their care were equal to regulate all other things 
 of like aptness to corrupt the mind, that single endea- 
 vour they knew would be but a fond labour ; to shut 
 
 and fortify one gate against corruption, and be neces- 
 laid, that to all men such books are not tem ptatiojSi sitated to leave others round about wide open. |f wc 
 
 nor vanities; hut useful drugs and materials wherewith 
 to temper a nd compose effective and strong medicines, 
 whi ch man's lift; cannot M'an t. The rest, as children 
 and childish men, who have not the art to qualify and 
 prepare these working minerals, well may be exhorted 
 to forbear, but hindered forcibly tbey cannot be, by 
 all the licensing that sainted inquisition could ever yet 
 contrive ; which is what I promised to deliver next : 
 that t his order fjf liccnsij 
 
 vak Irametft amTnath almost prevented 
 me by being clear already while thus much hath been 
 explaining. See the ingenuity of truth, who, when 
 she gets a free and willing hand, opens herself faster 
 than the pace of method and discourse can overtake 
 her. It was the task which I began with, to shew that 
 no nation, or >vc11 insti tuted state, if they valu ed- books 
 at alltilitL £\ er use tliis way of licensing ; and it might 
 be answered, that this is a piece of prudence lately 
 discovered. To which I return, that as it was a thing 
 slight and obvious to think on, so if it had beeri"(irtficult 
 to find out, t^ere wanted not among them long since, 
 who suggested such a course ; which they not follow- 
 in^Teave us a pattern of their judgment that it was 
 not the not knowing, but the not approving, which 
 was the cause of their not using it. Plato, a man of 
 high authority indeed, but least of all for his Common- 
 wealth, in the book of his laws, which no city ever yet 
 received, fed his fancy with making many edicts to his 
 airy burgomasters, which they who otherwise admire 
 him wish had been rather buried and excused in the 
 genial cups of an academic night sitting. By which 
 laws he seems to tolerate no kind of learning, but by 
 unalterable decree, consisting most of practical tradi- 
 tions, to the attainment whereof a library of smaller 
 
 think to reguiale printingj^liffrphv ^y,j;{;t^ij^y j^amiers. 
 
 isdcliirhtiul toman\ No music must be heard, no song 
 be set or sung, but what is grave and doric. There must 
 be licensing dancers, that no gesture, motion, or de- 
 portment be taught our youth, but what by their allow- 
 ance shall be thought honest ; for such Plato was 
 provided of. It will ask more than the work of twenty 
 licensers to examine all the lutes, the violins, and the 
 guitars in every house ; they must not be suffered to 
 prattle as they do, but must be licensed what they 
 may say. And who shall silence all the aii-s and mad- 
 rigals that whisper softness in chambers ? The windows 
 also, and the balconies must be thought on ; there are 
 shrewd books, with dangerous frontispieces, set to sale; 
 who shall prohibit them, shall twenty licensers ? The 
 villages also must have their visitors to inquire what 
 lectures the bagj)ipe and the rebec reads, even to the 
 ballatry and the gamut of every municipal fidler ; for 
 these are the countryman's Arcadias, and his Monte 
 Mayors. Next, what more national corruption, for 
 which England hears ill abroad, than household glut- 
 tony ; who shall be the rectors of our daily rioting ? 
 And what shall be done to inhibit the multitudes, that 
 frequent those houses where drunkenness is sold and 
 harboured ? Our garments also should be referred to 
 the licensing of some more sober workmasters, to see 
 them cut into a less wanton garb. Who shall regulate 
 all the mixed conversation of our youth, male and fe- 
 male together, as is the fashion of this country .'* Who 
 shall still appoint what shall be discoursed, what pre- 
 sumed, and no further? Lastly, who shall forbid and 
 separate all idle resort, all eviTcompany ? These things 
 will be, and must be ; but how they shall be least 
 
110 
 
 A SPEECH FOR THE LIBERTY 
 
 hurtful, how least enticing', herein consists the grave 
 and governing wisdom of a state. To sequester out 
 of the world into Atlantic and Eutopian politics, which 
 never can be drawn into use, will not mend our con- 
 dition ; but to ordain wisely as in this world of evil, 
 in the midst whereof God hath placed us unavoidably. 
 Nor is it Plato's licensing of books will do this, 
 which necessarily pulls along with it so many other 
 kinds of licensing, as will make us all both ridiculous 
 and weary, and yet frustrate ; but those unwritten, or 
 nt least unconstraining laws of virtuous education, re- 
 ligious and civil nurture, which Plato there mentions, 
 as the bonds and ligaments of the commonwealth, the 
 pillars and the sustainers of every written statute ; these 
 they be, which will bear chief sway in such matters as 
 these, when all licensing will be easily eluded. Im- 
 punity and remissness for certain are the bane of a 
 commonwealth ; but here the great art lies, to discern 
 in whet the law is to bid restraint and punishment, and 
 in what things persuasion only is to work. If every 
 action which is good or evil in man at ripe years were 
 to be under pittance, prescription, and compulsion, 
 what were virtue but a name, what praise could be then 
 due to well doing, what gramercy to be sober, just, or 
 continent ? Many there be that complain of divine 
 Providence for suffering' Adam to transgress. Foolish 
 tongues ! when God ^ave him reason, he gav^ h^p a 
 
 freedom to choose, for i jg pon is but g^oosingr : he had 
 been else a mere artificial Adam, such an Adam as he 
 is in the motions. We ours ^lyffj pstpom j^^^ ^f ^},^t 
 obedienc e, or love, or ^gfft, whifh ig nf ffrr^j God 
 therefore left him free, set before bira a provoking ob- 
 ject, ever almost in his eyes ; herein consisted his merit, 
 herein the right of his reward, the praise of his absti- 
 nence. Wherefore did he create passions within us, 
 pleasures round about us, but that these rightly tem- 
 pered are the very ingredients of virtue? They are not 
 skilful considerers of human things, who imagine to 
 remove sin, by removing' the matter of sin ; for, besides 
 that it is a huge heap increasing under the very act of 
 diminishing, though some part of it may for a time be 
 withdrawn from some persons, it cannot from all, in 
 such a universal thing as books are ; and when this is 
 done, yet the sin remains entire. Though ye take 
 from a covetous man all his treasure, he has yet one. 
 jewel left, ye cannot bereave him of his covetousness. 
 Banish all objects of lust, shut up all youth into the 
 severest discipline that can be exercised in any hermit- 
 age, ye cannot make them chaste, that came not thither 
 so : such great care and wisdom is required to the right 
 managing of this point. Suppose we could expel sin 
 by this means ; look how much we thus expel of gin, 
 so much we expel of virtue : for the matter of them 
 both is the same : remove that, and ye remove them 
 both alike. This justifies the high providence of God, 
 who, though he commands us temperance, justice, con- 
 tinence, yet pours out before us even to a profuseness 
 all desirable things, and gives us minds that can wan- 
 der beyond all limit and satiety. Why should we then 
 affect a rigour contrary to the manner of God and of 
 nature, by abridging or scanting those means, which 
 
 and the exerc ise of trutli ? 
 learn that the l&W tnUsl needs be frivolous, which goes 
 to restrain things, uncertainly and yet equally working 
 to good and to evil. And were I the chooser, a dram 
 of well doing should be preferred before many times as 
 much the forcible hinderance of evil doing. FfltGod 
 sureestccnis the m|0)j^tji^aud virtuous 
 
 albeit, wTiatevcr tmng we hear or see, sitting, walking, 
 travelling, or conversing, may be fitly called our book, 
 and is of the same effect that writings are ; yet grant 
 the thing to be prohibited were only books, it appears 
 that this order hitherto is far insufficient to the end 
 which it intends. Do we not see, not once or oftene^T 
 but weekly, that continued court-libel against the par- 
 liament and city, printed, as the wet sheets can witness, 
 and dispersed among us for all that licensing can do ? 
 Yet this is the prime service a man would think wherein 
 this order should give proof of itself. If it were exe- 
 cuted, you will say. But certain, if execution be remiss 
 or blindfold now, and in this particular, what will it 
 be hereafter, and in other books ? If then the order 
 shall not be vain and frustrate, behold a new labour, 
 lords and commons, ye must repeal and proscribe all 
 sca ndalous and unli cgMed -books ajre^^y pri!)**^" '^"'' 
 divulged ; after ye have drawn them up into a list, that 
 all_may^know wliIcL_are^ co ndemned, and whic h not ; 
 and firdain that Tiff fnrpjgT i hftokt i he drlivprfd nut of 
 custody, till they have been read over. This o ffice will 
 require the whole time oFnot a few overseers, and tliose 
 nojvulgar men. There be also books which are partly 
 useful and excellent, partly culpabje 3nd pernicious ; 
 this work will ask as many more officials, to make ex- 
 purgations and expunctions, that the commonwealth of 
 learning be not damnified.. In fine, when the multitude 
 of books increase upon their hands, ye must be fain to 
 catalogue all those printers who are found frequently 
 offending, and forbid the importation of their whole 
 suspected typography. In a word, that this your order 
 may be exact, and not deficient, ye must reform it per- 
 fectly according to the model of Trent and Sevil, which 
 I know ye abhor to do. Yet though ye should conde- 
 scend to this, which God forbid, the order still would 
 be but fruitless and defective to that end whereto ye 
 meant it. If to prevent sects and schisms, who is so 
 unread or uncatechised in story, that hath not heard of 
 many sects refusing books as a hinderance, and pre 
 serving their doctrine unmixed for many ages, only V 
 unwritten traditions? The christian faith, (for thai 
 was once a schism !) is not unknown to have spread all 
 over Asia, ere any gospel or epistle was seen in writing. 
 If the amendment of manners be aimed at, look into 
 Italy and Spain, whether those places be one scruple 
 the better, the honester, the wiser, the chaster, since 
 all the inquisitional rigour that hath been executed 
 upon books. 
 
 ".Another reason, whereby to make it plain that this 
 order will miss the end it seeks, consider by the quality 
 which ought to be in every licenser. It cannot be de- 
 nied, but that he who is made judge to sit upon the 
 
 of . 
 
 t 
 
OF UNLICENSED PRINTING. 
 
 Ill 
 
 birth or death of books, whether they may be wafted 
 into this world or uot, had need to be a man above the 
 common measure, both studious, learned, and judicious; 
 there may be else no mean mistakes in the censure of 
 what is passable or not; which is also no mean injury. 
 If he be of such worth as behoves him, there cannot be 
 a more tedious and unpleasing joumeywork, a greater 
 loss of time levied upon his head, than to be made the 
 perpetual reader of unchosen books and pamphlets, oft- 
 times hug-e volumes. There is no book that is accept- 
 able, unless at certain seasons ; but to be enjoined the 
 reading of that at all times, and in a hand scarce legi- 
 ble, whereof three pages would not down at any time 
 in the fairest print, is an imposition which I cannot be- 
 lieve how he that values time, and his own studies, or 
 is but of a sensible nostril, should be able to endure. 
 In this one thing I crave leave of the present licensers 
 to be pardoned for so thinking; who doubtless took 
 this office up, looking on it through their obedience to 
 the parliament, whose command perhaps made all 
 things seem easy and unlaborious to them ; but that 
 this short trial hath wearied them out already, their 
 own expressions and excuses to them, who make so 
 many journeys to solicit their licence, are testimony 
 enough. Seeing therefore those, who now possess the 
 employment, by all evident signs wish themselves well 
 rid of it, and that no man of worth, none that is not a 
 plain unthrift of his own hours, is ever likely to suc- 
 ceed them, except he mean to put himself to the salary 
 of a press corrector, we may easily foresee what kind 
 of licensers we are to expect hereafter, either ignorant, 
 imperious, and remiss, or basely pecuniary. This is 
 what I had to shew, wherein this order cannot con- 
 duce to that end, whereof it bears the intention. 
 ' I lastIjLI>P>££ed_JVflm— t^ c "" good 4t can do, to the 
 manifest hurt it causns^ in ^t*inff fi'^t \]if |p-'">*t»'=^ jj^- 
 courapccfncnljind affront i\ ^f* <•«" he-aflWcd *" Irftra* 
 i»gyjnul to learned men. It was the complaint and 
 lamentation of "prelates, upon every least breath of a 
 motion to remove pluralities, and distribute more equally 
 church revenues, that then all learning would be for 
 ever dashed and discouraged. But as for that opinion, 
 I never found cause to think, that the tenth part of 
 learning stood or fell with the clergy : nor could I ever 
 but hold it for a sordid and unworthy speech of any 
 churchman, who had a competency left him. If there- 
 fore ye be loth to dishearten utterly and discontent, not 
 the mercenary crew of false pretenders to learning, but 
 the free and ingenuous sort of such as evidently were 
 bom to study and love learning for itself, not for lucre, 
 or any other end, but the service of God and of truth, 
 and perhaps that lasting fame and perpetuity of praise, 
 which God and good men have consented shall be the 
 reward of those, whose published labours advance the 
 good of mankind : thenknow, that so far to distrust 
 the judgment and the honesty of one who hath but a 
 common repute in learning, and never yet offended, as 
 not to count him fit to piint his mind without a tutor 
 and examiner, lest he should drop a schism, or some- 
 thing of corruption, is the greatest displeasure and in- 
 dignity toaJrefi»aiuLJsnoHing_§£irit, that can bg jwt 
 
 upon hini^ What advantage is it to be a man, over it 
 IS to be a boy at school, if we have only escaped the 
 ferula, to come under tlie fescue of an Imprimatur ? If 
 serious and elaborate writings, as if they were no more 
 than the tiieme of a grammar-lad under his pedagogue, 
 must not be uttered without ihe cursory ej'es of a tem- 
 porizing and extemporizing licenser ? He who is not 
 trusted with his own actions, his drift not being known 
 to be evil, and standing to the hazard of law and 
 penalty, has no great argument to think himself re- 
 puted in the commonwealth wberciu he Mas born for f\ 
 other than a fool or a foreigner. ^When a man writes/! 
 to the world, he summons up all his reason and deli-l 
 beration to assist him ; he searches, meditates, is indus-' 
 trious, and likely consults and confers with his judi- 
 cious friends ; after all which done, he takes himself to 
 be informed in what he writes, as well as any that writ 
 before himt if in this the most consummate act of his 
 fidelity and ripeness, no years, no industry, no former 
 proof of his abilities can bring him to that state of ma- 
 turity, as not to be still mistrusted and suspected, 
 unless he carry all his considerate diligence, all his 
 midnight watchings, and expense of Palladian oil, to 
 the hasty view of an unlcisured licenser, perhaps mucH 
 his younger, perhaps far bis inferior in judgment, per- 
 haps one whu never knew the labour of bookwriting ; 
 and if he be not repulsed, or slighted, must appear in 
 print like a puny with his guardian, and his censor's 
 hand on the back of his title to be his bail and surety, 
 that he is no ideot or seducer ; ^^j^jj^uiQ^i^gJ^j^^j^- 
 honour and derogation to the author, to the book, to 
 tne i)rivilfire and ditrnity of learning . And what if the 
 author shall be one so coj)ious of fancy, as to have 
 many things well worth the adding, come into his mind 
 after licensing, while the book is yet under the press, 
 which not seldom happens to the best and diligentest 
 writers ; and that perhaps a dozen times in one book. 
 The printer dares uot go beyond bis licensed copy ; so 
 often then must the author trudge to his leave-giver, 
 that those his new insertions may be viewed ; and 
 many a jaunt will be made, ere that licenser, for it 
 must be the same man, can either be found, or found 
 at leisure ; meanwhile cither the press must stand 
 still, which is no small damage, or the author lose his 
 accuratcst thoughts, and send the book forth worse 
 than he had made it, which to a diligent writer is the 
 greatest melancholy and vexation that can befal. And 
 how c an a man tea ch with autho tity, " hirh is thf life 
 of teachiag j how can he be_a_dpctor in his bo ok as 
 he_ ought to be, or else bad betterJ)e_silfiliJ;,-whenas 
 all be teaches, all he delivers, is buLundet-the-ttiition, 
 under -the correction of. Jiis. ^utriarcbaLIiccnser^ to 
 
 blot or alter what precisely accorchjiotjvit^hjtheJiide; . 
 
 i«n«4 JuujiQur jwhich _lie -cal l s hi s ju d gment.' * When 
 every acute reader upon the first sight of a pedantic 
 licence, will be ready with these like words to ding 
 the book a coil's distance from him, I hate a pupil 
 teacher, I endure not an instructor that comes to mc 
 under the wardship of an overseeing fist. I know no- 
 thing of the licenser, but that I have his own hand 
 here for his anogaiice ; who shall warrant me his 
 
U2 
 
 A SPEECH FOR THE UBERTY 
 
 judgment? Tbestate, sir, replies the stationer : but has 
 a quick return, the state shall be my governors, but not 
 ray critics ; t hey may he mistaken in the choice of a 
 licenser, as easily as this licenser may be mistaken in an 
 ai|tl|ftr- This IS some common stuff; and he might add 
 from Sir Francis Bacon, that " such authorized books 
 are but the language of the times." For though a 
 licenser should happen to be judicious more than ordi- 
 nary, which will be a great jeopardy of the next suc- 
 cession, yet his very office and his commission enjoins 
 him to let ])ass nothing but what is vulgarly received 
 already. Nay, which is more lamentable, if the work 
 of any deceased author, though never so famous in his 
 lifetime, and even to this day, comes to their hands 
 for licence to be printed, or reprinted, if there be found 
 in his book one sentence of a venturous edge, uttered 
 in the height of zeal, (and who knows whether it might 
 not be the dictate of a divine spirit .'*) yet not suiting with 
 every low decrepit humour of their own, though it were 
 Knox himself, the reformer of a kingdom, that spake 
 it, they will not pardon him their dash ; th fi fi fil^S fi "^ 
 that ,g<;fcat maj^jhallty all posterity be lost, for the 
 ^'' ' ^.he pf^umptuous r ashnes s of a per- 
 
 liccuser. And to what an author this~vTolencie 
 
 lath been lately done, and in what book of greatest 
 consequence to be faithfully published, I could now 
 instance, but shall forbear till a more convenient sea- 
 son. Yet if these things be not resented seriously and 
 timely by them who have the remedy in their power, 
 but that such iron-moulds as these shall have authority 
 to gnaw out the choicest periods of exquisitest books, 
 and to commit such a treacherous fraud against the 
 orphan remainders of worthiest men after death, the 
 more sorrow will belong to that hapless race of men, 
 whose misfortune it is to have understanding. Hence- 
 forth let no man care to learn, or care to be more 
 than worldly wise ; for certainly in higher matters 
 to be ignorant and slothful, to be a common stedfast 
 dunce, will be the only pleasant life, and only in 
 request 
 
 And as it is a particular disesteem of every knowing 
 person alive , a nd most injurious to the written labours 
 and monuments of the dead , so to me it seems an uii^ 
 
 dervalu inga nd vilifying of the whole nation. I cannot 
 
 ' — '■ . "^"""^ ' ■I-—-' — I ^— ^— 
 
 set so light by all the invention, the art, the wit, the 
 
 grave and solid judgment which is in England, as 
 that it can be comprehended in any twenty capacities 
 how good soever; much less that it should not pass 
 except their superintendence be over it, except it be 
 sifted and strained with their strainers, that it should 
 be uncurrent without their manual stamp. Truth and 
 understanding are not such wares as to be monopolized 
 and traded in by tickets, and statutes, and standards. 
 We must.flj2tJiiink^to make a staple commodity of all 
 the knowledge^njheTand, to mark and license it like 
 our boatLclotlL and^oiK woolsacks. Whatls it but a 
 "Servitude like that imposed by the Philistines, not to 
 be allowed the sharpening of our own axes and coul- 
 ters, but we must repair from all quarters to twenty 
 licensing forges ? Had any one written and divulged 
 erroneous things and scandalous to honest life, mis- 
 
 using and forfeiting the esteem had of his reason 
 among men, if after conviction this only censure were 
 adjudged him, that he should never henceforth write, 
 but what were first examined by an appointed officer, 
 whose hand should be annexed to pass his credit 
 for him, that now he might be safely read ; it could 
 not be apprehended less than a disgraceful punishment. 
 Whence to include the whole nation, and those that 
 never yet thus offended, under such a diffident and sus- 
 pcctful prohibition, may plainly be understood what a 
 disparagement it is. So much the more whenas debtors 
 and delinquents may walk abroad without a keeper, 
 but unoffensive books must notstir forth without a visible 
 jailor in their title. Nor is it to the common people less 
 ^^'^11 tLffifPff''^ » ^^^ '^ ^^ ^^ so jealous over them, as 
 that we dare not trust them with an English pamphlet, 
 what do we but censure them for a giddy, vicious, and 
 ungrounded people ; in such a sick and weak state of 
 faith and discretion, as to be able to take nothing down 
 but through the pipe of a licenser ? That this is care 
 or love of them, we cannot pretend, whenas in those 
 popish places, where the laity are most hated and de- 
 spised, the same strictness is used over them. Wisdom 
 we cannot call it, because it stops bur^iie_Ji»*ich 
 of licence, nor that neither : whenas those corruptions, 
 which it seeks to^revent, brealTin Jaster at other floors, 
 which cannot T)e shut. 
 
 And in conclusion it reflects to the disrepute of our 
 minis ter s aIso >. of whose labours we should hope hf;{fer - 
 and of their proficienc y which their flock reaps by them, 
 than that after all this light of the gospel which is, and 
 is to be, and all tiiis continual preaching, they should 
 be still frequented with such an unprincipled, unedified, 
 and laic rabble, as that the whiff of every new pam- 
 phlet should stagger them out of their catechism and 
 christian walking. This may have much reason to 
 discourage the ministers, when such a low conceit is 
 had of all their exhortations, and the benefiting 
 of their hearers, as that they are not thought fit 
 to be turned loose to three sheets of paper without a 
 licenser; that all the sermons, all the lectures preach- 
 ed, printed, vended in such numbers, and such volumes, 
 as have now well-nigh made all other books unsale- 
 able, should not be armour enough against one single 
 Enchiridion, without the castle of St. Angelo of an 
 Imprimatur. 
 
 And lest some should persuade ye, lords and com- 
 mons, that these arguments of learned men's discou- 
 ragement at this your order are mere flourishes, and 
 not real, I could recount what I have seen and heard 
 in other countries, where this kind of inquisition tyran- 
 nizes; when I have sat among their learned men, (for, 
 that honour I had,) and been counted happy to be bor 
 in such a place of philosophic freedom, as they suj 
 posed England was, while themselves did nothing but 
 bemoan the servile condition into which learning 
 amongst them was brought; that this was it whicl 
 had damped the glory of Italian wits; that nothing 
 had been there written now these many years but 
 flattery and fustian. There it was that I found an^ 
 visited the famous Galileo grown old, a prisoner to thel 
 
OF UNLICENSED PRINTING. 
 
 113 
 
 inquisition, for thinking in astronomy otherwise than 
 the franciscan and tlominican licensers thought. And 
 though I knew that England then was groaning loudest 
 under the prelatical yoke, nevertheless I took it as a 
 pledge of future happiness, that other nations were so 
 persuaded of her liberty. Yet was it beyond my hope, 
 that those worthies were then breathing in her air, 
 who should be her leaders to such a deliverance, as 
 shall never be forgotten by any revolution of time that 
 this world hath to finish. When that was once begun, 
 it was as little in my fear, that what words of com- 
 plaint I heard among learned men of other parts uttered 
 against the inquisition, the same I should hear by as 
 learned men at home uttered in time of parliament 
 against an order of licensing ; and that so generally, 
 thatwlien I had disclosed myself a companion of their 
 discontent, I might say, if without envy, that he whom 
 an honest quocstorship had endeared to the Sicilians, 
 was not more by them importuned against Verres, than 
 the favourable opinion which I had among many who 
 honour ye, and are known and respected by ye, loaded 
 me with entreaties and persuasions, that I would not 
 despair to lay together that which just reason should 
 bring into my mind, toward the removal of an utwlc- 
 served thraldom upon learning. That this is not there- 
 fore the disburdening of a particular fancy, but the 
 common grievance of all those who had prepared their 
 minds and studies above the vulgar pitch to advance 
 truth in others, and from others to entertain it, thus 
 much may satisfy. And in their name I shall for 
 neither friend nor U>e conceal what the general mur- 
 mur is; that if it come to inquisitioning again, and 
 licensing, and that we are so timorous of ourselves, 
 and suspicious of all men, as to fear each book, and 
 the shaking of every leaf, before we know what the 
 contents are; if some who but of late were little better 
 than silenced from preaching, shall come now to silence 
 us from reading, except what they please, it cannot be 
 guessed what is intended by some but a second tyranny 
 over learning : and will soon put it out of controversy, 
 that bishops and presbyters are the same to us both 
 name and thing. That those evils of prelaty which 
 before from five or six and twenty sees were distri- 
 butively charged upon the whole people, will now- 
 light wholly upon learning, is not obscure to us: 
 whenas now the pastor of a small unlearned parish, on 
 , ihe sudden shall be exalted archbishop over a lary^e 
 /Aliocese of books, and yet not reniove, but keep his 
 other cure too, a mystical pluralist. He who but of 
 late cried down the sole ordination of every novice 
 bachelor of art, and denied sole jurisdiction over the 
 simplest parishioner, shall now at home in his private 
 chair assume both these over worthiest and excellentest 
 books, and ablest authors that write them. This is 
 not, ye covenants and protestations that we have made! 
 this is not to put down prelaty ; this is but to chop an 
 episcopacy ; this is but to translate the palace metro- 
 politan from one kind of dominion into another ; this 
 is but an old canonical slightof commuting our penance. 
 To startle thus betimes at a mere unlicensed pamphlet, 
 will, after a while, be afraid' of every conventicle, and 
 
 a while after will make a conventicle of every chris- 
 tian meeting. But I am certain, that a state governed 
 by the rules of justice and fortitude, or a church built 
 and founded upon the rock of faith and true know- 
 ledge, cannot be so pusillanimous. While things arc 
 yet not constituted in religion, that freedom of writing 
 should be restrained by a discipline imitated from the 
 prelates, and learned by them from the inquisition to 
 shut us up all again into the breast of a licenser, must 
 needs give cause of doubt and discouragement to all 
 lear ned an d reli gious men : who cannot but discern 
 the fineness of this politic drift, and who are the con- 
 trivers ; that w hile bishops were to be baited down, 
 then all presses might be open ; it was the people's 
 birthright and privilege in time of parliament, it was 
 the breaking forth of light. But now the bishops 
 abrogated and voided out of the church, as if our re- 
 formation sought no more, but to make room for others 
 into their scats under another name; the episcopal arts 
 begin to bud again ; the cruise of truth must run no 
 more oil ; liberty of printing must be enthralled again 
 under a prelatical commission of twenty; the privilege 
 of the people nullified ; and which is worse, the free- 
 dom of learning must groan again, and to her old 
 fetters: all this the parliament yet sitting. Although 
 their own late arguments and defences against the 
 prelates might remember them, that this obstructing 
 violence meets for the most part with an event utterly 
 opposite to the end which it drives at: instead of sup- 
 pressing sects and schisms, it raises them and invests 
 them with a reputation : " the punishing of wits en- 
 hances their authority," saith the Viscount St. Albans ; 
 " and a forbidding writing is thought to be a certain 
 spark of truth, that flics up in the faces of them who 
 seek to tread it out." This order therefore may prove 
 a nursing mother to sects, but I shall easily shew how 
 it will be a stepdame to truth : and first by disenabling 
 us to the maintenance of what is known already. 
 
 Well knows he who uses to consider, that our faith 
 and knowledge thrives by exercise, as well as our limbs 
 and complexion. Truth is compared in Scripture to a 
 streaming fountain; if her waters flow not in a per- 
 petual progression, they sicken into a muddy pool of 
 conformity and tradition. A man may be a heretic in 
 the truth ; and if be believe things only because his 
 pastor says so, or the assembly so determines, without 
 knowing other reason, though his belief be true, yet 
 the very truth he holds becomes his heres}'. There is 
 not any burden, that some would gladlier post off" to 
 another, than the charge and care of their religion. 
 There be, who knows not that there be of protestants 
 and professoi-s, who live and die in as errant and im- 
 plicit faith, as any lay papist of Loretto. A wealthy 
 man, addicted to his pleasure and to his profits, finds 
 religion to be a traflic so entangled, and of so many 
 piddling accounts, that of all mysteries he cannot skill 
 to keep a stock going upon that trade. What should 
 he do ? Fain he would have the name to be religious, 
 fain he would bear up with his neighbours in that. 
 What does he therefore, but resolves to give over toil- 
 ing, and to find himself out some factor^ to whose care 
 
114 
 
 A SPEECH FOR THE LIBERTY 
 
 and credit he may commit the whule managing of his 
 religious affairs ; some divine of note and estimation 
 that must be. To him he adheres, resigns the whole 
 warehouse of his religion, with all the locks and keys, 
 into his custody ; and indeed makes the very person of 
 that man bis religion ; esteems his associating with him 
 a sufficient evidence and commendatory of his own 
 piety. So that a man may say his religion is now,no 
 more within himself, but is become a dividual movable, 
 and goes and comes near him, accorrling as that good 
 man frequents the house. He entertains him, gives 
 him gifts, feasts him, lodges him ; his religion comes 
 home at night, prays, is liberally supped, and sump- 
 tuously laid to sleep ; rises, is saluted, and after the 
 malmsey, or some well-spiced bruage, and better break- 
 fasted, than he whose morning appetite would have 
 gladly fed on green figs between Bethany and Jeru- 
 salem, his religion walks abroad at eight, and leaves 
 his kind entertainer in the shop trading all day without 
 his religion. 
 
 •* Anotlier sort there be ^ who when thev hear that all 
 thiBg»-«han~tnrTJT?Ieredj^lL4fei«g8^-reguIated anil~set- 
 lled; nothing written but what passes through the 
 customhouse of certain publicans that have the ton- 
 naging and poundaging of all freespoken truth ; will 
 straight give themselves up into your hands, make them 
 and cut them out what religion ye please : there be 
 delights, there be recreations and jolly pastimes, that 
 will fetch the day about from sun to sun, and rock the 
 tedious year as in a delightful dream. What need they 
 torture their heads with that which others have taken 
 so strictly, and so unalterably into their own purvey- 
 ing ? These are the fruits, which a dull ease and cessa- 
 tion of our knowledge will bring forth among the 
 people. How goodly, and how to be wished were such 
 an obedient unanimity as this ! What a fine conform- 
 ity would it starch us all into ! Doubtless a staunch 
 and solid piece of framework, as any January could 
 freeze together. 
 
 Nor much better will be the consequence even among 
 the clergy themselves : it is no new thing never heard 
 of before, for a parochial minister, who has his reward, 
 and is at his Hercules pillars in a warm benefice, to be 
 easily inclinable, if he have nothing else that may rouse 
 up his studies, to finish his circuit in an English Con- 
 cordance and a topic folio, the gatherings and savings 
 of a sober graduateship, a Harmony and a Catena, 
 treading the constant round of certain common doc- 
 trinal heads, attended with their uses, motives, marks 
 and means ; out of which, as out of an alphabet or sol 
 fa, by forming and transforming, joining and disjoining 
 variously, a little bookcraft, and two hours' meditation, 
 might furnish him unspeakably to the performance of 
 more than a weekly charge of. sermoning : not to 
 reckon up the infinite helps of interliniaries, breviaries, 
 synopses, and other loitering gear. But as for the 
 multitude of sermons ready printed and piled up, on 
 every text that is not difficult, our London trading St. 
 Thomas in his vestry, and add to boot St. Martin and 
 St. Hu^h, have not within their hallowed limits more 
 ▼endible ware of all sorts ready made : so that penury 
 
 he never need fear of pulpit provision, having where 
 so plenteously to refresh his magazine. But if his 
 rear and flanks be not impaled, if his back door be not 
 secured by the rigid licenser, but that a bold book may 
 now and then issue forth, and give the assault to some 
 of his old collections in their trenches, it will concern 
 him then to keep waking, to stand in watch, to set good 
 guards and sentinels about his received opinions, to 
 walk the round and counter-round with his fellow in- 
 spectors, fearing lest any of his flock be seduced, who 
 also then would be better instructed, better exercised 
 and disciplined. A nd God snnd th^t tVif» Jlmje^/tf |)^^ 
 dili gence, whi dL giust th enbejiS(ed^jlo n"t ma]co us 
 a ffect th^ laziness of a licensnig church ! 
 
 For if we be sure we are in the right, and do not 
 hold the truth guiltily, which becomes not, if we our- 
 selves condemn not our own weak and frivolous teach- 
 ing, and the people for an untaught and irreligious 
 gadding rout; what can be more fair, than when a 
 man judicious, learned, and of a conscience, for aught 
 we know as good as theirs that taught us what we 
 know, shall not privily from house to house, which is 
 more dangerous, but openly by writing, publish to the 
 world what his opinion is, what his reasons, and where- 
 fore that which is now thought cannot be sound ? 
 Christ urged it as wherewith to justify himself that he 
 preached in public; yet writing is more pubiic than 
 preaching; and more easy to refutation if need be, 
 there being so many whose business and profession 
 merely it is to be the champions of truth ; which if they 
 neglect, what can be imputed but their sloth or unability ? 
 
 Thus much we are hindered and disinured by this 
 course of licensing toward the true knowledge of what 
 we seem to know. For how much it hurts and hinders 
 the licensers themselves in the calling of their ministry, 
 more than any secular employment, if they will dis- 
 charge that office as they ought, so that of necessity 
 they must neglect either the one duty or the other; I 
 insist not, because it is a particular, but leave it to their 
 own conscience, how they will decide it there. 
 
 There is yet behind of what I purposed to lay open, 
 the incredible loss and detriment that this plot of licens- 
 ing puts us to, more than if some enemy at sea should 
 stop up all our havens, and ports, and creeks ; it hiu- 
 de rs.and retards the importation of our richest mer chan- 
 dise, truUiJ nay, it was first established and put in 
 practice by anti-christian malice and m^'stery on set 
 purpose to extinguish, if it were possible, the light of 
 reform ation, and jo settle falsehood; little differing from 
 that policy wherewith the Turk upholds his Alcoran, 
 by the prohibiting of printing. It is not denied, but 
 gladly confessed, we are to send our thanks and vows 
 to Heaven, louder than most of nations, for that great 
 measure of truth which we enjoy, especially in those 
 main points between us and the pope, with his appur- 
 tenances the prelates : but he who thinks we are to 
 pitch our tent here, and have attained the utmost pros- 
 pect of reformation, tliat the mortal glass wherein « • 
 contemplate can shew us, till we come to beatific vision 
 that man by this very opinion declares, that he is yet 
 far short of truth. 
 
OF UNLICENSED PRINTING. 
 
 11.5 
 
 Truth indeed came once into the world with her di- 
 vine master, and was a perfect shape most glorious to 
 look on : but wheifhe ascended, and his apostles after 
 him were laid asleep, then straight arose a wicked race 
 of deceivers, who, as that story goes of the Egyptian 
 Typhon with his conspirators, how they dealt with the 
 good Osiris, took the virgin Trutli, hewed her lovely 
 form into a thousand pieces, and scattered them to the 
 four winds. From that time ever since, the sad friends 
 of Truth, such as durst appear, imitating the careful 
 search that Isis made for the mangled body of Osiris, 
 went up and down gathering up limb by limb still as 
 they could find tliem. We have not yet found them 
 all, lords and commons, nor ever shall do, till her 
 master's second coming; he shall bring together every 
 joint and member, and shall mould them into an im- 
 mortal feature of loveliness and perfection. Suffer not 
 these licensing prohibitions to stand at every pla ce o f 
 opportunity forbidding and disturbing them that r.oQ- 
 tinue seeking, that continue to do our obsequies t o tlie 
 torn body of our martyred saint. We boast our light ; 
 but if we lo ok not wis ely on the sun itself, it smites us 
 into— dafknessJ Who can discern those planeTs that 
 are oft combust, and those stars of brightest magnitude, 
 that rise and set with the sun, until the opposite mo- 
 tion of their orbs bring them to such a place in the fir- 
 mament, where they may be seen evening or moniiiig ? 
 The light which we have gained, was given us, not to 
 be ever staring on, but by it to discover ouxvard things 
 more remote from our knowledge. It is not the un- 
 frocking of a priest, the unmitring of a bishop, and the 
 removing liim from off the presbyterian shoulders, that 
 will make us a happy nation ; no, if other things as 
 great in the church, and in the rule of life both 
 ceconomical and political, be not looked into and re- 
 formed, we have looked so long upon the blaze that 
 Zuinglius and Calvin have beaconed up to us, that we 
 are stark blind. There be who perpetually complain 
 of schisms and sects, and make it such a calamity that 
 any man dissents from their maxims. It is their own 
 pride and ignorance which causes the disturbing, 
 who neither will hear with meekness, nor can con- 
 vince, yet all must be suppressed which is not found 
 in their Syntagma. They are the troublcrs, they are 
 the dividers of unity, who neglect and permit not 
 others to unite those dissevered pieces, which are 3'et 
 wanting to the body of truth. To be still searching 
 what we know not, by what we know, still closing 
 up truth to truth as we find it, (for all her body is ho- 
 mogeneal, and proportional,) this is the golden rule 
 in theology as well as in arithmetic, and makes up 
 the be<t harmony in a church ; not the forced and out- 
 ward union, of cold, and neutral, and inwardly divided 
 minds. - — ~^ 
 
 Lords and commons of England ! consider what na- 
 tion it is whereof ye are, and whereof ye are the go- 
 vernors : a nation not slow and dull, but of a quick, 
 ingenious, and piercing spirit; acute to invent, subtile 
 and sinewy to discourse, not beneath the reach of any-, 
 point the highest that human capacity can soar to. 
 Therefore the studies of learning in her dccjiest sciences 
 I / 
 
 have been so ancient, and so eminent among us, that 
 writers of good antiquity and able judgment have been 
 persuaded, that even the school of Pjthagoras, and 
 the Persian wisdom, took beginning from the old phi- 
 losophy of this island. And that wise and civil Ro- 
 man, Julius Agricola, who governed once here for 
 Cae sar, preferred the natural wits of Britain, before 
 the laboured studies of the FreiicTi. Nor is it for no- 
 thing that the grave and frugal Transilvanian sends 
 out yearly from as far as the mountainous borders of 
 Russia, and beyond the Hercynian wilderness, not 
 their youth, but their staid men, to learn our language 
 and our theologic arts. Yet that which is above all 
 this, the favour and the love of Heaven, we have 
 great argument to think in a peculiar manner pro- 
 pitious and propending towards us. Why else was 
 this nation chosen before any other, that out of her, as 
 out of Sion, should be proclaimed and sounded forth 
 the first tidings and trumpet of reformation to all Eu- 
 rope ? And had it not been the obstinate perverseness 
 of our prelates against the divine and admirable spirit 
 of WickliflT, to suppress him as a schismatic and inno- 
 vator, perhaps neither the Bohemian Husse and Jerom, 
 no nor the name of Luther or of Calvin, had been ever 
 known : the glory of reforming all our neighbours 
 had been completely ours. But now, as our obdurate 
 clergy have with violence demeaned the matter, we 
 are become hitherto the latest and the backwardest 
 scholars, of whom God offered to have made us the 
 teachers. Now once again by all concurrence of 
 signs, and by the general instinct of holy and devout 
 men, as they daily and solemnly express their thoughts, 
 God is decreeing to begin some new and great })e- 
 riod in his church, even to the reforming of reforma- 
 tion itself; what does he then but reveal himself to 
 his servants, and as his manner is, first to his English - 
 men ? I say as his manner is, first to us, though 
 we nkarTJ'uot the method of his counsels, and are 
 unworthy. Behold now this vast city : a city of 
 refuge, the mansion-house of liberty, encompassed and 
 surrounded with his protection ; the shop of war bath 
 not there more anvils and hammers waking, to fashion 
 out the plates and instruments of armed justice in de- 
 fence of beleagured truth, than there be pens and heads 
 there, sitting by their studious lamps, musing, search- 
 ing, revolving new notions and ideas wherewith to 
 present, as with their homage and their fealt^', the ap- 
 proaching reformation : others as fast reading, trying 
 all things, assenting to the force of reason and con- 
 vinccment. What could a man require more from a 
 nation so pliant and so prone to seek after knowledge ? 
 What wants there to such a towardly and pregnant soil, 
 but wise and faithful labourers, to make a knowing 
 people, a nation of prophets, of sages, and of worthies? 
 We reckon more than five monthsjet to harvest; there 
 need not be five weeks, had we but eyes to lift up, the 
 fields are white already. W here there_ is_ inuch desi re 
 "t o learn^ there of necessity will be nuicli arguing, mu ch 
 w pting ^j pany opiiiions4, rnr ^niiiiiiii ill good men is 
 hnl ^Tiowlt'dge in the making. ji Under these fantastic 
 tcrrours of sect and schism, we wrong the earnest and 
 
116 
 
 A SPEECH FOR THE LlBKRi V 
 
 zea lous tliii^ t after knowl ed ge and unde rstanding. 
 uhich God }mtli _stirrcJ_iq2llll tl»i&.f.it,y. What some 
 lament of, we rather should rejoice at, should rather 
 praise this pious forwardness amonpf men, to reassume 
 the ill-deputed care of their rclijfion into their own 
 hands again. A little generous prudence, a little for- 
 bearance of one another, and some grain of charity 
 might win all these diligencies to join and unite into 
 one general and brotherly search after truth ; could wc 
 but forego this prelatical tradition of crowding free 
 consciences and christian liberties into canons and pre- 
 cepts of men. I doubt not, if some great and worthy 
 stranger should come among us, wise to discern the 
 mould and temper of a people, and how to govern it, 
 observing the high hopes and aims, the diligent alacrity 
 of our extended thoughts and resisonings in the pur- 
 suance of truth and freedom, but that he would cry out 
 as Pyrrhus did, admiring the Roman docility and 
 courage; if such were ray Epirots, I would not despair 
 the greatest design that could be attempted to make a 
 church or kingdom happy. Yet these are the men 
 cried out against for schismatics and sectaries, as if, 
 while the temple of the Lord was building, some cut- 
 ting, some squaring the marble, othei-s hewing the 
 cedars, there should be a sort of irrational men, who 
 could not consider there must be many schisms and 
 many dissections made in the quarry and in the timber, 
 ere the house of God can be built. And when every 
 stone is laid artfully together, it cannot be united into 
 a continuity, it can but be contiguous in this world : 
 neither can every piece of the building be of one form ; 
 nay rather the perfection consists in this, that out of 
 many moderate varieties and brotherly dissimilitudes 
 that are not vastly disproportional, arises the goodly 
 and the gracefuIsymmetrySithat commends the whole 
 pile and structure. Let tre'therefore be more consider- 
 ate buildere, more wise in spiritual architecture, when 
 great reformation is expected. For now the time seems 
 come, wherein Moses the great prophet may sit in 
 heaven rejoicing to see that memorable and glorious 
 •wish of his fulfilled, wh en not only our seven tyxiders, 
 bu t all the Lord 's people, are b ecome prop hets. No 
 "marvel then though some men, and some good men 
 too perhaps, but young in goodness, as Joshua then 
 was, envy them. They fret, and out of their own 
 weakness are in agony, lest these divisions and subdi- 
 visions will undo us. The adversary again applauds, 
 and waits the hour ; when they have branched them- 
 selves out, saith he, small enough into parties and par- 
 titions, then will be our time. Fool ! he sees not the 
 firm root, out of which we all grow, though into 
 branches ; nor will beware until he see our small di- 
 vided maniples cutting through at every angle of his 
 ill-united and unwieldy brigade. And that we are to 
 hope better of all these supposed sects aud schisms, and 
 that wc shall not need that solicitude, honest perhaps, 
 though overtimorous, of them that vex in this behalf, 
 but shall laugh in the end at those malicious applaud- 
 ers of our differences, I have these reasons to persuade 
 ni5^ 
 
 First, when a city shall be as it were besieged and 
 
 blocked about, her navigable river infested, inroads and 
 incursions round, defiance and battle oft rumoured to 
 be marching up, even to her walls atid suburb trenches; 
 that then the people, or the greater part, more than at 
 other times, wholly taken up with the study of highest 
 and most important matters to be reformed, should be 
 disputing, reasoning, reading, inventing, discoursing, 
 even to a rarity and admiration, things not before dis- 
 coursed or written of, argues first a singular good will, 
 contentedness, and confidence in your prudent foresight, 
 and safe government, lords and commons ; and from 
 thence derives itself to a gallant bravery and well 
 grounded contempt of their enemies, as if there were 
 no small number of as great spirits among us, as his 
 was who, when Rome was nigh besieged by Hannibal, 
 being in the city, bought that piece of ground at no 
 cheap rate, whereon Hannibal himself encamped his 
 own regiment. Next, j tjs, a lively and cheerful pre- 
 sage of our happy success and vicjtory. For as in a 
 body when the blood is fresh, the spirits pure and vigor- 
 ous, not only to vital, but to rational faculties, and 
 those in the acutest and the pertest operations of wit 
 and subtlety, it argues in what good plight and consti- 
 tution the body is; so when the cheerfulness of the 
 people is so sprightly up, as that it has not only where- 
 with to guard well its own freedom and safety, but to 
 spare, and to bestow upon the solidest and sublinicst 
 points of controversy and new invention, it betokens 
 us not degenerated, nor drooping to a fatal decay, by 
 casting off the old and wrinkled skin of corruption to 
 outlive these pangs, and wax young again, entering 
 the glorious ways of truth and prosperous virtue, des- 
 tined to become great and honourable in these latter 
 aires, ^rftliiiiks T sec in iiiyiiiiii(l a noble andpuissant 
 Tiatioii nmsiiig licrself like a strong man aftersleep, " 
 \and shaking her invincible locks : methinks I see her 
 ;^s an eagle muing her mighty youth, and kindling her 
 aindazzled eyes at the full midday beam ; purging and 
 unsealing her long abused sight at the fountain itself 
 of heavenly radiance ; while the whole noise of timor- 
 ^ous and flocking birds, with those also that love the 
 twilight, flutter about, amazed at what she means, and 
 p their envious gabble would prognosticate a year of j 
 ects and schisms. 
 What shoidd ye do then, should 3c suppress all thia 
 ovvery crop of knowledge and new light sprung u{ 
 and yet springinguaily in this city ? Should ye set ai 
 uligitrch i^-ef twei it3Lengix)ssers over it, to bring a fa- 
 mine upon j)ui:_nimds again, when we shall know' 
 lothifignblit what is measured to us by their bushel .•* 
 elieve it, lords and commonsT they who counsel ye 
 to such a suppressing, do as good as bid ye suppress i 
 yourselves; and I will soon shew how. If it be de-/ 
 sired to know the immediate cause of all this free writ-j 
 ing and free speaking, there cannot be assigned a truen 
 than your own mild, and free, and humane govemment;y 
 it is the liberty, lords and commons, which 3'our own ) 
 [valorous and happy counsels have purchased us; li- " 
 
 hich jjL lhe niirse^of a'^grea^ wits : this is that 
 which hath rarified and enlightened our spirits like the I 
 influence of heaven; this is that which hath enfran- j 
 
OF UNLICENSED PRINTING. 
 
 117 
 
 cliised, enlarg'ed, and lifted up our apprehensions de- 
 grees above themselves. Ye cannot make us now less 
 capable, less knowing, less eagerly pursuing of the 
 truth, unless ye first make yourselves, that made us 
 so, less the lovers, less the founders of our true li- 
 berty. We can grow ignorant again, brutish, formal, 
 and slavish, as ye found us; but you then must first 
 become that which ye cannot be, oppressive, arbitrary, 
 and tyrannous, as they were from whom ye have freed 
 us. That our hearts are now more capacious, our 
 thoughts more erected to the search and expectation of 
 greatest and exactest things, is the issue of your own 
 virtue propagated in us ; ye cannot suppress that, un- 
 less ye reinforce an abrogated and merciless law, that 
 fathers may dispatch at will their own children. And 
 who shall then stick closest to ye and excite others? 
 Not he who takes up arms for coat and conduct, and 
 bis four nobles of Danegelt. Although I dispraise not 
 the defence of just immunities, yet love my peace 
 better, if that were all. Give me the liberty to know, 
 to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, 
 above all liberties. 
 
 What would be best advised then, if it be found so 
 hurtful and so unequal to suppress opinions for the new- 
 ness or the unsuitableness to a customary acceptance, 
 will not be my task to say ; I shall only repeat what I 
 have learned from one of your own honourable num- 
 ber, a right noble and pious lord, who bad he not sa- 
 crificed his life and fortunes to the church and com- 
 monwealth, we had not now missed and bewailed a 
 worthy and undoubted patron of this argument. Vc 
 know him, I am sure ; yet I for honour's sake, and 
 may it be eternal to him, shall name him, tlic Lord 
 Brook. He writing of episcopacy, and by the way 
 treating of sects and schisms, left ye his vote, or rather 
 now the last words of his dying charge, which I know 
 will ever be of dear and honoured regard with ye, so 
 fall of meekness and breathing charity, that next to 
 his last testament, who bequeathed love and peace to 
 his disciples, I cannot call to mind where I have read 
 or heard words more mild and peaceful. He there ex- 
 horts us to hear with patience and humility those, how- 
 ever they be miscalled, that desire to live purely, in 
 such a use of God's ordinances, as the best guidance of 
 their conscience gives them, and to tolerate them, 
 though in some disconformity to ourselves. The book 
 itself will tell us more at large, being published to the 
 world, and dedicated to the parliament by him, who 
 both for his life and for his death deserves, that what 
 advice he left be not laid by without perusal. 
 
 And now the time in special is, by privilege to write 
 and speak what may help to the further discussing of 
 matters in agitation. The temple of Janus Avith his 
 two controversal faces might now not unsignificantly 
 be set open. And though all the winds of doctrine 
 were let loose to play upon the earth, so truth be in the 
 field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to 
 misdoubt her strength. Let her and falsehood grapple; 
 who ever knew truth put to the worse, in a free and 
 open encounter ? Her confuting is the best and surest 
 suppressing. He who hears what praying there is for 
 
 light and clear knowledge to be sent down among us, 
 would think of other matters to be constituted beyond 
 the discipline of Geneva, framed and fabricked already 
 to our hands. Yet when the new light which we beg 
 for shines in upon us, there be who envy and oppose, 
 if it come not first in at their casements. What a col- 
 lusion is this, whenas we are exhorted by the wise man 
 to use diligence, " to seek for wisdom as for hidden 
 treasures" early and late, that another order shall en- 
 join us, to know nothing but by statute? When a man 
 hath been labouring the hardest labour in the deep 
 mines of knowledge, hath furnished out his findings in 
 all their equipage, drawn forth his reasons as it were a 
 battle ranged, scattered and defeated all objections in 
 his way, calls out his advereary into the plain, offers 
 him the advantage of wind and sun, if he please, only 
 that he may try the matter by dint of argument ; for 
 his opponents then to sculk, to lay ambushmeuts, to 
 keep a nar row bridge of licensing w here the challenger 
 should pass, though-it-heTaloHtenough in soldiership, 
 is but w eakness_ aiul_CQtf.ardicf! in the wiua of truth. 
 For who knows not that truth is strong, next to the 
 Almighty ; she needs no policies, nor stratagems, nor 
 liccnsings to make her victorious, those are the shifts 
 and the defencesjhaL_££rour uses against her power : 
 give her but room, and do not bind her when shelleeps, 
 for tlien she speaks not true, as the old Proteus did, 
 who spake oracles only when he was caught and bound, 
 but then rather she turns herself into all shapes, ex- 
 cept her own, and j)erhaps tunes her voice according to 
 the time, as Micaiah did before Ahab, until she be ad- 
 jured into her own likeness. Yet is it not impossible 
 that she may have more shapes than one ? What else 
 is all that rank of things indifferent, wherein truth 
 may be on this side, or on the other, without being un- 
 like herself? What but a vain shadow else is the abo- 
 lition of " those ordinances, that hand-writing nailed 
 to the cross ?" What great purchase is this christian 
 liberty which Paul so often boasts of? His doctrine is, 
 that he who eats or eats not, regards a day or regards 
 it not, may do either to the Lord. How many other 
 things might be tolerated in peace, and left to con- 
 science, had we but charity, and were it not the chief 
 strong hold of our hypocrisy to be ever judging one 
 another ? I fear yet this iron yoke of outward con- 
 formity hath left a slavish print upon our necks ; _the 
 frhost of a linen d^qfijupy yet hajmi&ois. We stumble, 
 
 and are impatient at the least dividing of one visible 
 congregation from another, though it be not in fun- 
 damentals; and through our forwardness to suppress, 
 and our backwardness to recover, any enthralled piece 
 of truth out of the gripe of custom, we care not to 
 keep truth separated from truth, which is the fiercest 
 rent and disunion of all. We do not see that while 
 we still affect by all means a rigid external formality, 
 we may as soon fall again into a gross conforming 
 stupidity, a stark and dead congealment of " wood 
 and hay and stubble " forced and frozen together, 
 which is more to the sudden degenerating of a ckurch 
 than many subdichotomies of petty schisms. Not 
 that I can think well of every light separation ; or 
 
118 
 
 A SPEECH FOR THE LIBERTV 
 
 that all in a church is to be expected " gold and silver 
 and precious stones :" it is not possible for man to 
 sever the wheat from the tares, the good fish from the 
 other fry; that must be the angels' ministry at the end 
 of mortal things. Yet if al l cannot hf, of onr^ minj^^s 
 who looks they should be" ?l this doubtless is more 
 wholesome, more prudent, and m ore chris h;"', tt'-it 
 many be toU'fULtd rmJLui thnn''gTt''compellcd.l I mean 
 not tolerated popery, and open superstition, iffiich as it 
 extirpates all religions and civil supremacies, so itself 
 should be extirpate, provided first that all charitable 
 and compassionate means be used to win and regain 
 the we ak and the misled : that also which is impious 
 or evil absolutely either against faith or manners, no 
 law can possibly permit, that intends not to unlaw 
 itself: but those neighbouring diflTerences, or rather 
 indifferences, are what I speak of, whether in some 
 point of doctrine or of discipline, which tliough they 
 may be many, yet need not interrupt the unity of spi- 
 rit, if we could but find among us the bond of peace. 
 In the mean while, if any one would write, and bring 
 his helpful hand to the slow moving reformation which 
 we labour under, if truth have spoken to him before 
 others, or but seemed at least to speak, who hatb so 
 bejesuited us, that we should trouble that man with 
 asking licence to do so worthy a deed ; and not con- 
 
 er this, that if i t corny ; tr> prnbih''*''"gj *^p'-<' '\^ p"^ 
 aught more likely to be prohibited than truth iffplf;^ 
 first appearance t<^ ()ur eyes, bleared and d immed 
 w ith p rejudice and cu stom, is m ore unsigbtly and un- 
 pkusi ble than manyen'flBfB ; ^ven as the person is oT 
 
 ny a gjreat man slight ana contemptible to see to. 
 And what do they tell us vainly of new opinions, when 
 this very opinion of theirs, that none must be heard 
 but whom they like, is the worst and newest opinion 
 of all others ; and is the chief cause why sects and 
 schisms do so much abound, and true knowledge is 
 kept at distance from us ; besides yet a greater danger 
 which is in it. For when God shakes a kingdom, with 
 strong and healthful commotions, to a general reform- 
 ing, it is not untrue that many sectaries and false 
 teachers are then busiest in seducing. But yet more 
 true it is, that God then raises to his own work men of 
 rare abilities, and more than common industry, not 
 only to look back and revise what hath been taught 
 heretofore, but to gain further, and to go on some new 
 enlightened steps in the discovery of truth. For such 
 is the order of God's enlightening his church, to dis- 
 pense and deal out by degrees his beam, so as our 
 earthly ej'es may best sustain it. Neither is God ap- 
 pointed and confined, where and out of what place 
 these his chosen shall be fii-st heard to speak ; for he 
 sees not as man sees, chooses not as man chooses, lest 
 we should devote ourselves a^ain to set places and 
 assemblies, and outward callings of men ; planting 
 our faith one while in the old convocation house, and 
 another while in the chapel at Westminster ; when all 
 the faith and religion that shall be there canonized, is 
 not sufficient without plain convincement, and the 
 charity of patient instruction, to supple the least bruise 
 of conscience, to edify the meanest Cliristtan, wlio de- 
 
 sires to walk in the spirit, and not in the letter of human 
 trust, for all the number of voices that can be there 
 made ; no, though Harry the seventh himself there, 
 with all his liege tombs about him, should lend them 
 voices from the dead to swell their number. And if 
 the men be erroneous who appear to be the leading 
 schismatics, what withholds us but our sloth, our self- 
 will, and distrust in the right cause, that we do not 
 give them gentle meetings and gentle dismissions, 
 that we debate not and examine the matter thoroughly 
 with liberal and frequent audience; if not for their 
 sakes yet for our own ? Seeing no man who hath tasted 
 learning, but will confess the many ways of profiting 
 by those who, not contented with stale receipts, are 
 able to manage and set forth new positions to the world. 
 And were they but as the dust and cinders of our feet, 
 so long as in that notion they may yet serve to polish 
 and brighten the armory of truth, even for that respect 
 they were not utterly to be cast away. But if they be 
 of those whom God hath fitted for the special use of 
 these times with eminent and ample gifts, and those 
 perhaps neither among the priests, nor among the 
 Pharisees, and we in the haste of a precipitant zeal 
 shall make no distinction, but resolve to stop their 
 mouths, because we fear they come with new and 
 dangerous opinions, as we commonly forejudge them 
 ere we understand them ; no less than woe to us, while, 
 thinking thus to defend the gospel, we are found the 
 persecutors ! 
 
 There have been not a few since the beginning of 
 this parliament, both of the presbytery and others, who 
 by their unlicensed books to the contempt of an im- 
 primatur first broke that triple ice clung about our 
 hearts, and taught the people to see day : I hope that 
 none of those were the persuaders to renew upon us 
 this bondage, which they themselves have wrought so 
 much good by contemning. But if neither the check 
 that Moses gave to young Joshua, nor the counter- 
 mand which our Saviour gave to young John, who 
 was so ready to prohibit those whom he thought un- 
 licensed, be not enough to admonish our elders how 
 unacceptable to God their testy mood of prohibiting 
 is; if neither their own remembrance what evil hath 
 abounded in the church by this lett of licensing, and 
 w ^at good they th e mselves have begun b ^^transgress- 
 in<y^ , be not enough, but that they will persuade and 
 execute the most Dom inican part of "tire inquisition 
 over us, and are already witli one foot in the stirrup so 
 active at suppressing, it would be no unequiU. distribu- 
 tion jn the first^placeto suppress the suppressors them- 
 selves ; whom the change of Iheir condition hatli puffed 
 up, more than their late experience of harder times 
 hath made wise. 
 
 And as for regulating the press, let no man think to 
 have the honour of advising ye better than yoiy^elves 
 have done in that order published next before-thtf, 
 " That no book be printed, unless the printer's and the 
 author's name, or at least the printer's, be registered." 
 Those which otherwise come forth, if they be found 
 mischievous and libellous, the fire and the executioner 
 will be the timeliest and the most cflTcctual remedy, 
 
OF UNLICENSED PRINTING. 
 
 119 
 
 that man's prevention can use. For this authentic 
 Spanish policy of licensing' books, if I have said aught, 
 will prove the most unlicensed book itself within a 
 short while ; and was the immediate image of a star- 
 chamber decree to that purpose made in those very 
 times when that court did the rest of those her pious 
 works, for which she is now fallen from the stars with 
 Lucifer. Whereby ye may guess what kind of state 
 prudence, what love of the people, what care of religion 
 or good manners there was at the contriving, although 
 with singular hypocrisy it pretended to bind books to 
 their good behaviour. And how it got the upper hand 
 of your precedent order so well constituted before, if 
 we may believe those men whose profession gives 
 them cause to inquire most, it may be doubted there 
 was in it the fraud of some old patentees and monopo- 
 lizers in the trade of bookselling ; who under pretence 
 of the poor in their company not to be defrauded, and 
 the just retaining of each man his several copy, (which 
 God forbid should be gainsaid,) brought divers glossing 
 colours to the house, which were indeed but colours, 
 
 and serving to no end except it be to exercise a su- 
 periority over their neighbours ; men who do not there- 
 fore labour in an honest profession, to which learning 
 is indebted, that they should be made other men's 
 vassals. Another end is thought was aimed at by some 
 of them in procuring by petition this order, that having 
 power in their hands malignant books might the 
 easier escape abroad, as the event shews. But of these 
 sophisms and elenchs of merchandize I skill not : 
 This I know, that errours in a good government 
 and in a bad are equally almost incident ; for what 
 magistrate may not be misinformed, and much the 
 
 sooner, ''nih^-^y of printipor b^ rt^Ann^A intr^ f]^p p^>«^^ 
 
 of a few i'^3 ut to redress willingly and speedily what 
 
 «i been erred, and in highest authority to es- 
 
 a plain advertisement more than others have 
 
 one a sumptuous bride, is a virtue (honoured lords 
 
 nd commons !) answerable to your highest actions, 
 
 'and whereof none can participate but greatest and> 
 
 t men. 
 
 
 ^ 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 DIVORCE: 
 
 RESTORED TO THE GOOD OF BOTH SEXES, FROM THE BONDAGE OF CANON LAW, AND OTHER MISTAKES, 
 
 TO THE TRUE MEANING OF SCRIPTURE IN THE LAW AND GOSPEL COMPARED. 
 
 WHEREIN AI^O ARE SET DOWN THE BAD CONSEQUENCES OF ABOLISHING, OR CONDEMNING 
 
 AS SIN, THAT WHICH THE LAW OF GOD ALLOWS, AND CHRIST ABOLISHED NOT. 
 
 NOW THE SECOND TIME REVISED, AND MUCH ACGHENTBD, IN TWO BOOKS : TO THE PARLIAMENT 
 OF ENGLAND, WITH THE ASSEMBLY. 
 
 Matth. Jdii, 52. " Every scribe instructed in the kingdom of heaven is like the master of a house, which bringeth out of 
 
 his treasury things new and old." 
 
 Prov. xviii 13. " He that answereth a matter before he beareth it, it is folly and shame uuto him." 
 
 [first publishsd 1613, 1614.] 
 
 TO THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGL.\ND, WITH THE ASSEMBLY. 
 
 If it were seriously asked, (and it would be no untimely 
 question,) renowned parliament, select assembly ! who 
 of all teachers and mastere, that have ever taught, hath 
 drawn the most disciples after him, both in religion 
 and in manners ? it might be not untruly answered, 
 Custom. Though virtue be commended for the most 
 persuaiive in her theory, and conscience in the plain 
 demonstration of the spirit finds most evincing ; yet 
 whether it be the secret of divine will, or the original 
 blindness we are bom in, so it happens for the most 
 part, that custom still is silently received for the best 
 instructor. Except it be, because her method is so glib 
 and easy, in some manner like to that vision of Ezckiel 
 rolling up her sudden book of implicit knowledge, for 
 him that will to take and swallow down at pleasure ; 
 which proving but of bad nourishment in the concoction, 
 as it was heedless in the devouring, puffs up unhealthily 
 a certain big face of pretended learning, mistaken 
 among credulous men for the wholesome habit of 
 soundness and good constitution, but is indeed no 
 other than that swoln visage_of counterfeit kspw- 
 ledge and literature, which not only in private mars 
 our education, but also in public is the common climber 
 into every chair, where either religion is preached, or 
 law reported : filling each estate of life and profession 
 with abject and servile principles, depressing the high 
 and heaven-born spirit of man, far beneath the condition 
 wherein either God created him, or sin hath sunk him. 
 To pursue the allegory, custom being but a mere face, 
 as echo is a mere voice, rests not in her unaccomplish- 
 ment, until by secret inclination she accorporate herself 
 
 with errour, who being a blind and serpentine body 
 withoutji head, willingly acce£ts what be wants, andf 
 supplies what her incompleteness went seeking. Hence 
 it is, that errour supports custom, custom countenances 
 errour: and these two between them would persecute" 
 and chase away all truth and solid wisdom out of hu- 
 man life, were it not that God, rather than man, once 
 in raiiny ages calls together the prudent and religious 
 counsels of men, deputed to repress the incroachments, 
 and to work off the inveterate blots and obscurities 
 wrought upon our minds by the subtle insinuating of 
 errour and custom ; who, with the numerous and vul- 
 gar train of their followers, make it their chief design 
 to envy and cry down the industry of free reasoning, 
 under the terms of humour and innovation ; as if the 
 womb of teeming truth were to be closed up, if she 
 presume to bring forth aught that sorts not with their 
 unchewed notions and suppositions. Against which 
 notorious injury and abuse of man's free soul, to testify 
 and oppose the utmost that study and true labour can 
 attain, heretofore the incitement of men reputed grave 
 hath led me among others ; and now the duty and the 
 right of an instructed Christian calls me through the 
 chance of good or evil report, to be the sole advocate 
 of a discountenanced truth : a high enterprise, lords 
 and commons ! a high enter])rise and a hard, and such 
 as every seventh son of a seventh son docs not venture 
 on. Nor have I amidst the clamour of so much envy 
 and impertinence whither to appeal, but to the con- 
 course of so much pict}' and wisdom here assembled. 
 Bringing in my hands an ancient and most necessary, ^ 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 121 
 
 most cliaritable, and yet most injured statute of Moses ; 
 not re pealed ever bj^Jiim who only had the authority i 
 but thrown aside with much inconsiderate neglect, 
 under the rubbish of canonical ignorance ; as once the 
 whole law was by some such like conveyance in Jo- 
 siah's time. And he who shall endeavour the amend- 
 ment of any old neglected grievance in church or state, 
 or in the daily course of life, if he be gifted with abilities 
 of mind, that may raise him to so high an undertaking, 
 I grant he hath already much whereof not to repent 
 him ; yet let me aread him, not to be the foreman of 
 any misjudged opinion, unless his resolutions be firmly 
 seated in a square and constant mind, not conscious to 
 itself of any deserved blame, and regardless of un- 
 grounded suspicions. For this let him be sure, he shall 
 be boarded presently by the ruder sort, but not by dis- 
 creet and well-nil rtured men, with a thousand idle 
 descants and surmises. Who when they cannot con- 
 fute the least joint or sinew of any passage in the book ; 
 yet God forbid that truth should be truth, because they 
 have a boisterous conceit of some pretences in the writer. 
 But were they not more busy and inquisitive than the 
 apostle commends, they would hear him at least, " re- 
 joicing so the truth be preached, whether of envy or 
 other pretence whatsoever:" for truth is as impossil)le 
 to be soiled by any outward touch, as the sunbcaui ; 
 though this ill hap wait on her nativity, that she never 
 comes into the world, but like a bastard, to the ignominy 
 of him that brought her forth ; till time, the midwife 
 rather than the mother of truth, have washed and salted 
 the infant, declared her legitimate, and churched the 
 father of his young Minerva, from the needless causes 
 of his purgation. Yourselves caii best witness this, 
 worthy patriots ! and better will, no doubt, hereafter : 
 for who among ye of the foremost that have travailed 
 in her behalf to the good of church or state, hath not 
 been often traduced to be the agent of his own by-ends, 
 under pretext of reformation .■' So much the more I 
 shall not be unjust to hope, that however infamy or 
 envy may work in other men to do her fretful will 
 against this discourse, yet that the experience of your 
 own uprightness misinterpreted will put ye in mind, to 
 give it free audience and generous construction. What 
 though the brood of Belial the draff of men, to whom 
 no liberty is pleasing, but unbridled and vagabond 
 lust without pale or partition, will laugh broad per- 
 haps, to see so great a strength of Scripture mustering 
 up in favour, as they suppose, of their debaucheries ; 
 they will know better when they shall hence learn, 
 that hjuiest liberty is the greatest foe to disbpnest^ lipencc . 
 And what though others, out of a waterish and queasy 
 conscience, because ever crazy and never yet sound, 
 will rail and fancy to themselves that injury and licence 
 is the best of this book ? Did not the distemper of their 
 own stomachs affect them with a dizzy megrim, they 
 would soon tie up their tongues, and discern themselves 
 like that Assyrian blasphemer, all this while reproach- 
 ing not man, but the Almighty, the Holy One of Israel, 
 whom they do not deny to have belawgive n his own 
 sacred people with this very allowance, which they 
 now call injury and licence, and dare cr v shame on, 
 
 and will do yet a while, till they get a little cordial 
 sobriety to settle their qualming zeal. But this ques- 
 tion concerns not us perhaps : indeed man's disposition, 
 though prone to search after vain curiosities, yet when 
 points of difficulty are to be discussed, appertaining to 
 the removal of unreasonable wrong and burden from 
 the perplexed life of our brother, it is incredible how 
 cold, how dull, and far from all fellow-feeling we are, 
 without the spur of self-concernment. Yet if the wis- 
 dom, the justice, the purity of God be to be cleared 
 from foulest imputations, which are not yet avoided ; if 
 charity be not to be degraded and trodden down under 
 a civil ordinance ; if matrimony be not to be advanced 
 like that exalted perdition written of to the Thessalo- 
 nians, " above all that is called God," or goodness, nay 
 against them both ; then I dare affirm, there will be 
 found in the contents of this book that which may con- 
 cern us all. You it concerns chiefly, worthies in par- 
 liament ! on whom, as on our deliverers, all our griev- 
 ances and cares, by the merit of your eminence and 
 fortitude, are devolved. Ale it^ concerns next, having 
 with much labour and faithful diligence first found 
 out, or at least with a fearless and communicative can- 
 dour first published to Uie manifest good of Christendom, 
 that vvliich, calling to witness every thing mortal and 
 immortal, I believe unfeignedly to be true. Let not 
 other men think their conscience bound to search con- 
 tinually after truth, to pray for enlightening from 
 above, to publish what they think they have so obtain- 
 ed, and debar me from conceiving myself tied by the 
 same duties. Ye have now, doubtless, by the favour 
 and appointment of God, ye have now in your hands a_^ 
 great and populous nation to reform ; from what cor- 
 ruption, what blindness in religion, ye know well ; in 
 what a degenerate and fallen spirit from the apprehen- 
 sion of native liberty, and true manliness, I am sure ye 
 find ; with what unbou nded licence rushing to whore- 
 doms and adulteries, needs not long inquiry: insomuch 
 that the fears , which men have of too strict a discipline, 
 perhaps exceed the hopes, that can be in others, of ever 
 introducing it with any great success. What if I 
 should tell ye now of dispensations and indulgences, 
 to give a little the reins, to let them play and nibble 
 with the bait a while; a people as hard of heart as that 
 Egyptian colony that went to Canaan. This is the 
 common doctrine that adulterous and injurious divorces 
 were not connived only, but with eye open allowed of 
 old for hardness of heart. But that opinion, I trust, 
 by then this following argument hath been well read, 
 will be left for one of the mysteries of an indulgent 
 Antichrist, to farm out incest by, and those his other 
 tributary pollutions. What middle way can be taken 
 then, may some interrupt, if we must neither turn to 
 the right, nor to the left, and that the people hate to 
 be reformed ? Mark then, judges and lawgivers, and 
 ye whose office it is to be our teachers, for I will utter 
 now ajdoctrine, if ever any other, though neglected or 
 not understood, yet of great and powerful importance 
 to the governing of mankind. He who wisely would 
 restrain the reasonable soul of man witliin due I)onn(ls, 
 must first himself know perfectly, how far tJie territory 
 
122 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 and doniiiiioD cxtciuis of just and honest liberty. As 
 little must lie offer to bind that which Godhutli loosened^ 
 as to loosen that which he hath bound. The ignorance 
 and mistake of this high point hath heaped up one huge 
 half of all the misery that bath been since Adam. In 
 the gos])el we shall read a supercilious crew of masters, 
 whose holiness, or rather whose evil eye, grieving that 
 God should be so facil to man, was to set straiter limits 
 to obedience, than God hath set, to enslave the dignity 
 of man, to put a garrison upon his neck of empty and 
 over-dignified precepts: and we shall read our_Saviour 
 never more grieved and troubled, than to meet with such 
 a peevish madness among men against their own free- 
 dom. How can we expect him to be less offended 
 with us, when much of the same folly shall be found 
 yet remaining where it least ought, to the perishing of 
 thousands .-* The greatest burden in the world is super- 
 stition, not only of ceremonies in the church, but of ima- 
 ginary and scarecrow sins at home. What greater 
 weakening, what more subtle stratagem against our 
 christian warfare, when besides the gross body of real 
 transgressions to encounter, we shall be terrified by a 
 vain and shadowy menacing of faults that are not ? 
 When things indifferent shall be set to overfront us 
 under the banners of sin, what wonder if we be routed, 
 and by this art of our adversary, fall into the subjec- 
 tion of worst and deadliest offences ? The superstition of 
 the papist is, " touch not, taste not," when God bids 
 both ; and ours is, " part not, separate not," when God 
 and charity both permits and commands. " Let all 
 your things be done with charity," saith St. Paul ; and 
 his master saith, " She is the fulfilling of the law." Yet 
 now a civil, an indifferent, a sometime dissuaded law 
 of marriage, must be forced upon us to fulfil, not only 
 without charity but against her- No place in heaven 
 or earth, except hell, where charity may not enter: 
 yet marriage, the ordinance of our solace and content- 
 ment, the remedy of our loneliness, will not admit now 
 either of charity or mercy, to come in and mediate, or 
 pacify the fierceness of this gentle ordinance, the un- 
 remedied loneliness of this remedy. Advise ye well, 
 supreme senate, if charity be thus -excluded and ex- 
 pulsed, how ye will defend the untainted honour of 
 your own actions and proceedings. He who marries, 
 intends as little to conspire his own ruin, as he that 
 swears allegiance : and as a whole people is in propor- 
 tion to an ill government, so is one man to an ill mar- 
 riage. If they, against any authority, covenant, or 
 statute, may by the sovereign edict of charity, save not 
 only their lives but honest liberties from unworthy 
 bondage, as well may be against any private covenant, 
 which he never entered to his mischief, redeem himself 
 from unsupportable disturbances to honest peace, and 
 just contentment : And much the rather, for that to re- 
 sist the highest magistrate though tyrannizing, God 
 never gave us express allowance, only he gave us rea- 
 son, charity, nature, and good example to bear us out; 
 but in this economical misfortune thus to demean our- 
 selves, besides the warrant of those four great directors, 
 which doth as justly belong hither, we have an express 
 law of God, and such a law, as whereof our Saviour 
 
 with a solemn threat forbid tlie abrogating. For no 
 effect of tyranny can sit more heavy on the common- 
 wealth, than this household unhappiness on the family. 
 And farewell all hope of true reformation in the state, 
 while such an evil as this lies undiscerned or unre- 
 garded in the house : on the redress whereof depends 
 not only the spiritful and orderly life of our own grown 
 men, but the willing and careful education of our 
 children. Let this therefore be now examined, this 
 tenure and .freehold of mankind, this native and do- 
 mestic charter given us by a greater lord than that 
 Saxon king the confessor. Let the statutes of God be 
 turned over, be scanned anew, and considered not al- 
 together by the narrow intellectuals of quotationists 
 and common places, but (as was the ancient right of 
 councils) by men of what liberal profession soever, of 
 eminent spirit and breeding, joined with a diffuse and 
 various knowledge of divine and human things; able 
 to balance and define good and evil, right and wrong, 
 throughout every state of life ; able to shew us the 
 ways of the Lord straight and faithful as they are, not 
 full of cranks and contradictions, and pitfalling dis- 
 penses, but with divine insight and benignity measured 
 out to the proportion of each mind and spirit, each 
 temper and disposition created so different each from 
 other, and yet by the skill of wise conducting, all to 
 become uniform in virtue. To expedite these knots, 
 were worthy a learned and memorable synod ; while 
 our enemies expect to see the expectation of the church 
 tired out with dependencies and independencies, how 
 they will compound, and in what calends. Doubt 
 not, worthy senators ! to vindicate the sacred honour 
 and judgment of Moses your predecessor, from the 
 shallow commenting of scholastics and canonists. 
 Doubt not after him to reach out your steady hands to 
 the misinformed and m eaijed life of man ; to restore 
 this his lost heritage, into the household state ; where- 
 with be sure that peace and love, the best subsistence 
 of a christian family, will return home from whence 
 they are now banished ; places of prostitution will be 
 less iiaunted, the neighbour's bed less attemptcd,-tbe 
 yoke of prudent and manly discipline will be generally 
 submitted to ; sober and well ordered living will soon 
 spring up in the commonwealth. Ye have an author J 
 great beyond exception, Moses ; and one yet greater, i 
 he who hedged in from abolishing every smallest jot 
 and tittle of precious equity contained in that law, , 
 with a more accurate and lasting Masoreth, than either I 
 the synagogue of Ezra or the Galiliean school at 
 Tiberias bath left us. Whatever else ye can enact, 
 will scarce concern a third part of the British name : 
 but the benefit and good of this your magnanimous ex- 
 ample, will easily spread far beyond the banks oti 
 Tweed and the Norman isles. It would not be the. 
 first or second time, since our ancient druids, by whom 
 this island was the cathedral of philosophy to France, 
 left off their pagan rites, that England bath had this 
 honour vouchsafed from heaven, to give out^refqrma- 
 tion to the world. Who was it but our Ellgli^LCfiSr 
 stantinc that baptized the Roman empire .'* Who but 
 the Northumbrian Willibrode, and Winifridc of Devon, 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 123 
 
 with their followers, were the first apostles of Germany ? 
 Who but Alcuin and Wickliff oiir coiiutrymen opened 
 the eyes of Europe, the one in arts, the other in reli- 
 gion ? Let not England forget herprecedence of teach- 
 ing nations how to live. 
 
 Know, worthies ; and exercise the privilege of your 
 honoured country. A greater title I here bring ye, 
 than is either in the power or Iri'tEe policy ofRorae to 
 give her monarchs ; this glorious act will style ye the 
 defenders of charity. Nor is this yet the highest in- 
 scription that will adorn so religious and so holy a de- 
 fence as this : behold here the pure and sacred law of 
 God, and his yet purer and more sacred name, offering 
 themselves to you, first of all christian reformers to be 
 acquitted from the long-suffered ungodly attribute of 
 patronizing adultery. Defer not to wipe off instantly 
 these imputative blurs and stains cast by rude fancies 
 upon the throne and beauty itself of inviolable holi- 
 ness : lest some other people more devout and wise than 
 we bereave us this offered immortal glory, our wonted 
 prerogative, of being the first asserters in every great 
 vindication. For me, as far as my part leads me, I 
 have already my greatest gain, assurance and inward 
 satisfaction to have done in this nothing unworthy of 
 an honest life, and studies well employed. With what 
 event, among the wise and right understanding hand- 
 ful of men, I am secure. But how among the drove of 
 custom and prejudiced this will be relished by such 
 whose capacity, since their youth run ahead into the 
 easy creek of a system or a medulla, sails there at will 
 under the blown physiognomy of their unlaboured ru- 
 diments; for them, what their taste will be, I have 
 also surety sufficient, from the entiic league that hath 
 ever been between formal ignorance and grave ob- 
 stinacy. Yet when I remember the little that our Sa- 
 viour could prevail about this doctrine of charity against 
 
 the crabbed textuists of his time, I make no wonder, 
 but rest confident, that whoso prefers either matrimony 
 or other ordinance before the good of man and the 
 plain exigence of charity, let him profess papist, or 
 protestant, or what he will, he is no better than a Pha- 
 risee, and understands not the gospel : whom as a mis- 
 interpreter of Christ I openly protest against ; and 
 provoke him to the trial of this truth before all the 
 world: and let him bethink him withal how he will 
 sodder up the shifting flaws of his ungirt permis- 
 sions, his venial and unvenial dispenses, wherewith the 
 law of God pardoning and unpardoning hath been 
 shamefully branded for want of heed in glossing, to 
 have eluded and baffled out all faith and chastity from 
 the marriage-bed of that holy seed, with politic and 
 judicial adulteries. I seek not to seduce the simple and 
 illiterate ; my errand is to find out the choicest and 
 the leamedest, who have this high gift of wisdom to 
 answer solidly, or to be convinced. I crave it from the 
 piety, the learning, and the prudence which is housed 
 in this place. It might perhaps more fitly have been 
 written in another tongue : and I had done so, but tiiat 
 the esteem I have of my country's judgment, and the 
 love I bear to my native language to serve it first with 
 what I endeavour, made me speak it thus, ere I assay 
 the verdict of outlandish readers. And perhaps also 
 here I might have ended nameless, but that the address 
 of these lines chiefly to the parliament of England 
 might have seemed ingrateful not to acknowledge by 
 whose religious care, unwearied watchfulness, coura- 
 geous and heroic resolutions, I enjoy the peace and 
 studious leisure to remain, 
 
 The Ilonourer and Attendant of their noble Worth 
 and Virtues, 
 
 John Milton. 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 OP 
 
 DIVORCE; 
 
 RESTORED TO THE GOOD OF BOTH SEXES. 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE I'REFACE. 
 
 Thai man is the occasion of his own miseri es inmost o£jthose evils^ which he imp utes to God's_J nfiictin(}. The 
 absurdity of our canonists in their decrees about divorce. The christian imperial laws framed with more 
 equity. The opinion of Hugo Grotius and Paulus Fagius : And the purpose in general of this discourse. 
 
 Many men, whether it be their fate or fond opinion, easily persuade themselves, if God would but be pleased 
 a while to withdraw his just punishments from us, and to restrain what power either the devil or any earthly 
 enemy hath to work us wo, that then man's nature would find immediate rest and releasement from all evils. 
 But verily they who think so, if they be such as have a mind large enough to take into their thoughts a general 
 
124 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 survey of liunian things, would soou prove themselves in that opinion far deceived. For though it were granted 
 us by divine indulgence to be exempt from all that can be harmful to us from without, yet the pervcrseness of 
 our folly is so bent, that we should never lin hammering out of our own hearts, as it were out of a Hint, the 
 seeds and sparkles of new misery to ourselves, till all were in a blaze again. And no marvel if out of our own 
 hearts, for they are evil ; but even out of those things which God meant us, either for a principal good, or a 
 pure contentment, we arc still hatching and contriving upon ourselves matter of continual sorrow and ])er- 
 plexity. What greater good to man than that revealed rule, whereby God vouchsafes to shew us how lie would 
 be worshipped ? And yet that not riglitly understood became the cause, that once a famous man in Israel could 
 not but oblige his conscience to be the sacrificcr; or if not, the gaoler of his innocent and only daughter : and 
 was the cause ofttimes that armies of valiant men have given up their throats to a heathenish enemy on the sab- 
 bath day ; fondly thinking their defensive resistance to be as then a work unlawful. What thing more instituted 
 to the solace and delight of man than marriage? And yet the misinterpreting of some scripture, directed ffiainlj^ 
 against the abusers of the law for divorce given by~Moses, hath changed the blessing of matrimony not seldom^ 
 into a familiar and coinhabiting mischief; at least into a drooping and disconsolate household captivity, with-   
 out refuge or redemption. So ungoverned and so wild a race doth superstition run us, from one extreme of 
 abused liberty into the other of unmerciful restraint. For although God in the first ordaining of marriage 
 taught us to what end he did it, in words expressly implying the apt and cheerful conversation of man witli 
 woman, to comfort and refresh him against the evil of solitary life, not mentioning the purpose of generation 
 till afterwards, as being but a secondary end in dignity, tiiough not in necessity : yet now, if any two be but 
 once handed in the church, and have tasted in any sort the nuptial bed, let them find themselves never so mis- 
 taken in their dispositions through any errour, concealment, or misadventure, that through their diflerent 
 tempers, thoughts, and constitutions, they can neither be to one another a remedy against loneliness, iior live 
 in any union or contentment all their days ; yet they shall, so they be but found suitably weaponed to 
 the least possibility of sensual enjoyment, be made, spight of antipathy, to fadgc together, and combine 
 as they may to their unspeakable wearisomeness, and despair of all sociable delight in the ordinance which 
 God established to that very end. What a calamity is this, and as the wise man, if he were alive, 
 would sigh out in his own phrase, what a " sore evil is this under the sun !" All which we can re- 
 fer justly to no other author than the canon law and her adherents, not consulting with charity, the in- 
 terpreter and guide of our faith, but resting in the mere element of the text; doubtless by the policy of 
 the devil to make that gracious ordinance become unsupportable, that what with men not daring to ven- 
 ture upon wedlock, and what with men wearied out of it, all inordinate licence might abound. It was for 
 many ages that marriage lay in disgrace with most of the ancient doctors, as a work of the flesh, almost a 
 defilement, wholly denied to priests, and the second time dissuaded to all, as he that reads Tertullian or 
 Jerom may see at large. Afterwards it was thought so sacramental, that no adultery or desertion could dis- 
 solve it; and this is the sense of our canon courts in England to this day, but in no other reformed church 
 else : yet there remains in them also a burden on it as heavy as the other two were disgi-aceful or super- 
 stitious, and of as much iniquity, crossing a law not only written by Moses, but charactered in us by nature, 
 of more antiquity and deeper ground than marriage itself; which law is to force nothing against the fault- 
 less proprieties of nature, yet that this may be colourably done, our Saviour's words touching divorce are as 
 it were congealed into a stony rigour, inconsistent both with his doctrine and his office ; and that which he 
 preached only to the conscience is by canonical tyranny snatched into the compulsive censure of a judicial 
 court; where laws are imposed even against the venerable and secret power of nature's impression, to love, 
 whatever cause be found to loath : which is a heinous barbarism both against the honour of marriage, the 
 dignity of man and his soul, the goodness of Christianity, and all the human respects of civility. Notwithstand- 
 ing that some the wisest and gravest among the christian emperors, who had about them, to consult with, those 
 of the fathers then living, who for their learning and holiness of life are still with us in great renown, have 
 made their statutes and edicts concerning this debate far more easy and relenting in many necessary cases, 
 wherein the canon is inflexible. And Hugo Grotius, a man of these times, one of the best learned, seems not 
 obscurely to adhere in his persuasion to the equity of those imperial decrees, in his notes upon the Evangelists ; 
 much allaying the outward roughness of the text, which hath for the most part been too immoderately expounded ; 
 and excites the diligence of ethers to inquire further into this question, as containing many points that have not 
 yet been explained. Which ever likely to remain intricate and hopeless upon the suppositions commonly stuck 
 to, the authority of Paulus Fagius, one so learned and so eminent in England once, if it might persuade, would 
 straight acquaint us with a solution of these difl^erences no less prudent than compendious. He, in his conij- 
 ment on the Pentateuch, doubted not to maintain that divorces might be as lawfully permitted by the magis- 
 trate to Christians, as they were to the Jews. But because he is but brief, and these things of great consequence 
 not to be kept obscure, T shall conceive it nothing above my duty, either for the difficulty or the censure that 
 may pass thereon, to communicate such thoughts as I also have had, and do off*er them now in this general 
 labour of reformation to the candid view both of church and magistrate : especially because I see it the hope of 
 good men, that those irregular and unspiritual courts have spun their utmost date in this land, and some better 
 course must now be constituted. This tlierefore shall be the task and period oj^^this discourse to prove, first, 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 125 
 
 that other reasons of divorce, besides adulte ry^ w ere hy the law of Moses, and are yet to be allowed by the_ 
 christTan rnag-istrate as a piece of justice, and tba.t the words of Christ are not hereby contraried. Next , that t o 
 prohibit absolutely any divorce whatsoever, except those which Moses excepted, is agfainst the reason of law, 
 as in due place I shall shew out of Fagius with many additions. He therefore who by adventuring-, shall be 
 so happy as with success to light the way of such an expedient liberty and truth as this, shall restore the much* 
 wronged and over-sorrowed state of matrimony, not only to those merciful and life-giving- remedies of Moses, 
 but as much as may be, to that serene and blissful condition it was in at the beginning, and shall deserve of all 
 apprehensive men, (considering the troubles and distempers, which, for want of this insight have been so oft in 
 kingdoms, in states, and families,) shall deserve to be reckoned among the public benefactors of civil and human 
 life, above the inventors of wine and oil ; for this is a far dearer, far nobler, and more desirable cherishing to 
 roan's life, unworthily exposed to sadness and mistake, which he shall vindicate. Not that licence, and levity, 
 and unconsented breach of faith should herein be countenanced, but that some coTiscionable and tender pity 
 might be had of those who have unwarily, in a thing they never practised before, made themselves the bondmen 
 of a luckless and helpless matrimony. In which argument, he whose courage can serve him to give the first 
 onset, must look for two several oppositions ; the one from those who having sworn themselves to long custom, 
 and the letter of the text, will not out of the road; the other from those whose gross and vulgar apprehensions 
 conceit but low of matrimonial purposes, and in the work of male and female think they have all. Neverthe- 
 less, it shall be here sought by due ways to be made appear, that those words of God in the institution, promis- 
 ing a meet help against loneliness, and those words of Christ, " that his yoke is easy, and his burden light," 
 were not spoken in vain : for if the knot of marriage may in no case be dissolved but for adultery, all the bur- 
 dens and services of the law are not so intolerable. This only is desired of them who are minded to judge 
 hardly of thus maintaining, that they would be still, and hear all out, nor think it equal to answer deliberate 
 reason with sudden heat and noise; remembering this, that many truths now of reverend esteem and credit, 
 had their birth and beginning once from singular and private thoughts, while the most of men were otherwise 
 possessed ; and had the fate at first to be generall}' exploded and exclaimed on by many violent opposers : yet 
 I may eiT perhaps in soothing myself, that this present truth revived will deserve on all hands to be not sinis- 
 terly received, in that it undertakes the cure of an inveterate disease crept into the best part of human society; 
 and to do this with no smarting corrosive, but with a smooth and pleasing lesson, which received hath the virtue 
 to soften and dispel rooted and knotty sorrows, and without enchantment, if that be feared, or spell used, hath 
 regard at once both to serious pity and upright honesty ; that tends to the redeeming and restoring of none but 
 such as are the object of compassion, having in an ill iiour hampered themselves, to the utter dispatch of all 
 their most beloved comforts and repose for this life's term. But if we shall obstinately dislike this new overture 
 of unexpected ease and recovery, what remains but to deplore the frowanlness of our hopeless condition, which 
 neither can endure the estate we are in, nor admit of remedy either sharp or sweet. Sharp we ourselves dis- 
 taste; and sweet, under whose hands we are, is scrupled and suspected as too luscious. In such a posture Christ 
 found the Jews, who were neither won with the austerity of John the Baptist, and thought it too much licence 
 to follow freely the charming pipe of him who sounded and proclaimed liberty and relief to all distresses : yet 
 truth in some age or other will find her witness, and shall be justified at last by her own children. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 The position proved by the law of Moses. That law expounded and asserted to a moral and charitable use, 
 first by Paulas Fagius, next with other additions. 
 
 To remove therefore, if it be possible, this great and 
 sad oppression, which through the strictness of a literal 
 interpreting hath invaded and disturbed the dearest 
 and most peaceable estate of household society, to the 
 overburdening, if not the overwhelming of many Chris- 
 tians better worth than to be so deserted of the church's 
 considerate care, this position shall be laid down, first 
 proving, then answering what may be objected either 
 from Scripture or light of reason. 
 
 " That indisposition, unfitness, or contrariety of 
 mind» ^arising from a cause in nature unchangeable, 
 
 hindering, and ever likely to hinder, the main benefits 
 of conjugal society, which are solace and peace; is a 
 greater reason of divorce than natural frigidity, espe- 
 cially if there be no children, and that there be mutual 
 consent." 
 
 This I gather from the law in Deut. xxiv. 1. " When 
 a man hath taken a wife and married her, and it come 
 to pass that she find no favour in his eyes, because he 
 hath found some uncleanness in her, let him write her 
 a bill of divorcement, and give it in her hand, and 
 send her out of his house," Sic. This law, if the words 
 
136 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 of Christ may be admitted into our belief, shall never 
 while the world stands, for him be abrogated. First 
 therefore I here set down what learned Fagius hath 
 observed on this law ; •' the law of God," saith he, 
 " permitted divorce for the help of human weakness. 
 For every one that of necessity separates, cannot live 
 single. That Christ denied divorce to his own^hinders 
 not; for what is that to the unregenerate, who hath 
 not attained such perfection ? Let not the remedy be 
 despised, which was given to weakness. And when 
 Christ saith, who marries the divorced commits adultery, 
 ^ it is to be understood if he had any plot in the divorce." 
 The rest I reserve until it be disputed, how the magis- 
 trate is to do herein. From hence we may plainly dis- 
 cern a twofold consideration in this law : first, the end 
 of the lawgiver, and the proper act of the law, to com- 
 mand or to allow something just and honest, or indif- 
 ferent. Secondly, his sufferance from some accidental 
 result of evil by this allowance, which the law cannot 
 remedy. For if this law have no other end or act but 
 only the allowance of sin, though never to so good in- 
 tention, that law is no law, but sin muffled in the robe 
 of law, or law disguised in the loose garment of sin. 
 Both which are too foul hypotheses, to save the phae- 
 nomenon of our Saviour's answer to the Pharisees about 
 this matter. And I trust anon by the help of an infal- 
 lible guide, to perfect such Prutenic tables, as shall 
 mend the astronomy of our wide expositors. 
 
 The cause of divorce mentioned in the law is trans- 
 lated " some uncleanness," but in the Hebrew it sounds 
 " nakedness of aught, or any real nakedness :" which 
 by all the leanicd interpreters is^refeired to the mind 
 as well as to the body. And what greater nakedness 
 or unfitness of mind than that which hinders ever the 
 solace and peaceful society of the married couple ; and 
 what hinders that more than the unfitness and defec- 
 tiveness of an unconjugal mind ? The cause therefore 
 of divorce expressed in the position cannot but agree 
 with that described in the best and equallest sense of 
 Moses's law. Which, being a matter of pure charity, 
 is plainly moral, and more now in force than ever; 
 therefore surely lawful. For if under the law such 
 was God'^ gracious indulgence, as not to suflfer the 
 ordinance of his goodness and favour through any errour 
 to be seared and stigmatized upon his servants to their 
 misery and thraldom ; much less will he suffer it now 
 under the covenant of grace, by abrogating his former 
 grant of remedy and relief. But the first institution 
 will be objected to have ordained marriage inseparable. 
 To that a little patience until this first part have amply 
 discoursed the grave and pious reasons of thisdivorcive 
 law; and then I doubt not but with one gentle stroking 
 to wipe away ten thousand tears out of the life of man. 
 Yet thus much I shall now insist on, that whatever the 
 institution were, it could not be so enormous, nor so 
 rebellious against both nature and reason, as to exalt 
 itself above the end and person for whom it was insti- 
 tuted. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Thefirtt reason of this law grounded on the prime rea- 
 son of matrimony. That no covenant whatsoever 
 obliges against the main end both of itself, and of the 
 parties covenanting. 
 
 Fok all sense and equity reclaims, that any law or 
 covenant, how solemn or strait soever, either between 
 God and man, or man and man, though of God's join- 
 ing, should bind against a prime and principal scope 
 of its own institution, and of both or either party cove- 
 nanting: neither can it be of force to engage a blame- 
 less creature to his own perpetual sorrow, mistaken for 
 his expected solace, without suffering charity to step in 
 and do a confessed good work of parting those, whom 
 nothing holds together but this of God's joining, falsely 
 supposed against the express end of his own ordinance. 
 And what his chief end was of creating woman to be 
 joined with man, his own instituting words declare, 
 and are infallible to inform us what is marriage, and 
 what is no marriage; unless we can think them set 
 there to no purpose : " it is not good," saith he, " that 
 man should be alone, I will make him a help meet for 
 him." From which words, so plain, less cannot be 
 concluded, nor is by any learned interpreter, than that 
 in God's intention a meet and happy conversation is 
 the chiefest and the noblest end of marriage : for we 
 find here no expression so necessarily implying carnal 
 knowledge, as this prevention of loneliness to the mind 
 and spirit of man. To this, Fagius, Calvin, Pareus, 
 Rivetus, as willingly and largely assent as can be 
 wished. And indeed it is a greater blessing from God, 
 more worthy so excellent a creature as man is, and a 
 higher end to honour and sanctify the league of mar- 
 riage, whenas the solace and satisfaction of the mind 
 is regarded and provided for before the sensitive pleas- 
 ing of the body. And with all generous persons mar- 
 ried thus it is, that where the mind and person pleases 
 aptly, there some unaccomplishment of the body's de- 
 light may be better borne with, than when the mind 
 hangs off in an unclosing disproportion, though the 
 body be as it ought; for there all corporal delight will 
 soon become unsavoury and contemptible. And the 
 solitariness of man, which God had namely and prin- 
 cipally ordered to prevent by marriage, hath no remedy, 
 but lies under a worse condition than the loneliest sin- 
 gle life : for in single life the absence and remoteness 
 of a helper might inure him to expect his own comforts 
 out of himself, or to seek with hope; but here the con- 
 tinual sight of his deluded thoughts, without cure, 
 must needs be to him, if especially his complexion in- 
 cline him to melancholy, a daily trouble and pain of 
 loss, in some degree like that which reprobates feel. 
 Lest therefore so noble a creature as man should be 
 shut up incurably under a worse evil by an easy mis- 
 take in that ordinance which God gave him to remedy 
 a less evil, reaping to himself sorrow while he went to 
 rid away solitariness, it^cannot avoid to be concluded, 
 that if the woman be naturally so of disposition, as will 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 127 
 
 not help to remove, but help to increase that same God- 
 forbiddeu loneliness, which will in time draw on with 
 it a general discomfort and dejection of mind, not be- 
 seeming either christian profession or moral conversa- 
 tion, unprofitable and dangerous to the commonwealth, 
 when the household estate, out of which must flourish 
 forth the vigour and spirit of all public enterprises, is 
 so illcontented and procured at home, and cannot be 
 supported ; such a marriage can be no marriage, whereto 
 the most honest end is wanting: and the aggrieved 
 person shall do more manly, to be extraordinary and 
 singular in claiming the due right whereof he is frus- 
 trated, than to piece up his lost contentment by visiting 
 the stews, or stepping to his neighbour's bed ; which 
 is the common shift in this misfortune : or else by suf- 
 fering his useful life to waste away, and be lost under 
 a secret affliction of an unconscionable size to human 
 strength. Against all which evils the mercy of this 
 Mosaic law was graciously exhibited. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 The ignorance and iniquity of canon law, providing for 
 the right of the body in marriage, but nothing for the 
 wrongs and grievances of the mind. An objection, 
 that the mind should be better looked to before con- 
 tract, ansicered. 
 
 How vain therefore is it, and bow preposterous in 
 the canon law, to have made such careful provision 
 against the impediment of carnal performance, and to 
 have had no care about the unconvrsing inability of 
 mind so defective to the purest and most sacred end of 
 matrimony ; and that the vessel of voluptuous enjoy- 
 ment must be made good to him that has taken it upon 
 trust, without any caution ; whenas the mind, from 
 whence must flow the acts of peace and love, a far 
 more precious mixture than the quintescence of an ex- 
 crement, though it be found never so deficient and 
 unable to perform the best duty of marriage in a cheer- 
 ful and agreeable conversation, shall be thought good 
 enough, however flat and melancholious it be, and 
 must serve, though to the eternal disturbance and lan- 
 guishing of hira that complains! Yet wisdom and 
 charity, weighing God's own institution, would think 
 that the pining of a sad spirit wedded to loneliness 
 should deserve to be freed, as well as the impatience of 
 a sensual desire so providently relieved. It is read to 
 us in the liturgy, that " we must not marry to satisfy 
 the fleshly appetite, like brute beasts, that have no 
 understanding ;" but the canon so runs, as if it dreamed 
 of no other matter than such an appetite to be satis- 
 fied ; for if it happen that nature hath stopped or ex- 
 tinguished the veins of sensuality, that marriage is 
 annulled. But though all the faculties of the under- 
 standing and conversing part after trial appear to be so 
 ill and so aversely met through nature's unalterable 
 working, as that neither peace, nor any sociable con- 
 tentment can follow, it is as nothing; the contract 
 
 shall stand as firm as ever, betide what will. What is 
 this but secretly to instruct us, that however many grave 
 reasons are pretended to the married life, yet that no- 
 thing indeed is thought worth regard therein, but the 
 prescribed satisfaction of an irrational heat .'* Which 
 cannot be but ignominious to the state of marriage, 
 dishonourable to the undervalued soul of man, and 
 even to christian doctrine itself: while it seems more 
 moved at the disappointing of an impetuous nerve, than 
 at the ingenuous grievance of a mind unreasonably 
 yoked ; and to place more of marriage in the channel 
 of concupiscence, than in the pure influence of peace 
 and love, whereof the soul's lawful contentment is the 
 only fountain. 
 
 But some are ready to object, that the disposition 
 ought seriously to be considered before. But let them 
 know again, that for all the wariness can be used, it 
 may yet befall a discreet man to be mistaken in his 
 choice, and we have plenty of examples. The soberest 
 and best governed men are least practised in these 
 aflairs; and who knows not that the bashful muteness 
 of a virgin may ofttimes hide all the unliveliness and 
 natural sloth which is really unfit for conversation ; 
 nor is there that freedom of access granted or presumed, 
 as may suflice to a perfect discerning till too late ; and 
 where any indisposition is suspected, what more usual 
 than the pei'suasion of friends, that acquaintance, as it 
 increases, will amend all ? And lastly, it is not strange 
 though many, who have spent their youth chastely, are 
 in some things not so quick-sighted, while they haste 
 too eagerly to light the nuptial torch ; nor is it there- 
 fore that for a modest errour a man should forfeit so 
 great a happiness, and no charitable means to release 
 him : since they who have lived most loosely, by reason 
 of their bold accustoming, prove most successful in 
 their matches, because their wild aflections unsettling 
 at will, have been as so many divorces to teach them 
 experience. Whenas the sober man honouring the 
 appearance of modesty, and hoping well of every 
 social virtue under that veil, mav easily chance to meet, 
 if not with a body impenetrable, yet often with a mind 
 to all other due conversation inaccessible, and to all 
 the more estimable and superior purposes of matri- 
 mony useless and almost lifeless : and what a solace, 
 what a fit help such a consort would be through the 
 whole life of a man, is less pain to conjecture than to 
 have experience. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The second reason of this law, because without it, mar- 
 riage as it happens oft is not a remedy of that which 
 it promises, as any rational creature would expect. 
 That marriage, if we pattern from the beginning, as 
 our Saviour bids, was not properly the remedy of lust, 
 but the fulfilling of conjugal love and helpfulness^ 
 
 And that we may further see what a violent cruel ' 
 thing it is to force the continuing of those together. 
 
128 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 whom God and nature in the g-entlest end of marriage 
 never joined ; divers evils and extremities, that follow 
 upon such a compulsion, shall here be set in view. Of 
 evils, the fii-st and g-reatcst is, that hereby a most ab- 
 surd and rash imputation is fixed upon God and his 
 holy laws, of conniviny and dispensing with open and 
 common adultery among his chosen people; a thing 
 which the rankest politician would tiiink it shame and 
 disworship that his laws should countenance: how and 
 in what manner that comes to pass I shall reserve till 
 the course of method brings on the unfolding of many 
 scriptures. Next, the law and gospel are hereby made 
 liable to more than one contradiction, which I refer 
 also thither. Lastly, the supreme dictate of charity is 
 hereby many ways neglected and violated ; which I 
 shall forthwith address to prove. First, we know St. 
 Paul saith, It is better to many than to burn. Mar- 
 riage tlierefore was given as a remedy of that trouble; 
 but what might this burning mean ? Certainly not 
 the mere motion of carr.al lust, not the mere goad of a 
 sensitive desire: God does not principally take care 
 for such cattle. What is it then but that desire which 
 God put into Adam in Paradise, before he knew the 
 sin of incontinence ; that desire which God saw it was 
 not good that man should be left alone to burn in, the 
 desire and longing to put off an unkindly solitariness 
 by uniting another body, but not without a fit soul to 
 his, in the cheerful society of wedlock ? Which if. it 
 were so needful before the fall, when man was much 
 more perfect in himself, how much more is it needful 
 now against all the sorrows and casualties of this life, 
 to have an intimate and speaking help, a ready and 
 reviving associate in marriage ? Whereof who misses, 
 by chancing on a mute and spiritless mate, remains 
 more alone than before, and in a burning less to be 
 contained than that which is fleshly, and more to be 
 considered ; as being more deeply rooted even in the 
 faultless innocence of nature. As for that other burn- 
 ing, which is but as it were the venom of a lusty and 
 over-abounding concoction, strict life and labour, with 
 the abatement of a full diet, may keep that low and 
 obedient enough : but this pure and more inbred desire 
 of joining to itself in conjugal fellowship a fit con- 
 versing soul (which desire is properly called love) 
 " is stronger than death," as the spouse of Christ 
 thought ; " many waters cannot quench it, neither can 
 the floods drown it." This is that rational burning 
 that marriage is to remedy, not to be allayed with fast- 
 ing, nor with any penance to be subdued : which how 
 can he assuage who by mishap hath met the most un- 
 meet and unsuitable mind ? Who hath the power to 
 struggle with an intelligible flame, not in Paradise to 
 be resisted, become now more ardent by being failed 
 of what in reason it looked for ; and even then most 
 nnquenched, when the importunity of a provender 
 burning is well enough appeased ; and yet the soul 
 hath obtained nothing of what it justly desires. Cer- 
 tainly such a one forbidden to divorce, is in efl'ect for- 
 bidden to marry, and compelled to greater difficulties 
 than in a single life: for if there be not a more hu- 
 mane burning which maniage must satisfy, or else 
 
 may be dissolved, than that of copulation, marriage 
 cannot be honourable for the meet reducing and termi- 
 nating lust between two; seeing many beasts in vo- 
 luntary and chosen couples live together as unadulte- 
 rously, and are as truly married in that respect. But 
 all ingenuous men will see tiiatthe dignity and bless- 
 ing of marriage is placed rather in the mutual enjoy- 
 ment of tliat which the wanting soul needfully seeks, 
 than of that which tl)e plenteous body would joyfully 
 give away. Hence it is that Plato in his festival dis- 
 course brings in Socrates relating what he feigned to 
 have learned from the prophetess Diotima, how Love 
 was the son of Penury, begot of Plenty in the garden 
 of Jupiter. Which divinely sorts with that which in 
 effect Moses tells us, tiiat Love was the son of Loneli- 
 ness, begot in Paradise by that sociable and helpful 
 aptitude which God implanted between man and wo- 
 man toward each other. The same also is that burn- 
 ing mentioned by St. Paul, whereof marriage ought 
 to be the remedy : the flesh hath other mutual and easy 
 curbs which are in the power of any temperate man. 
 When therefore this original and sinless penury or 
 loneliness of the soul cannot lay itself down by the 
 side of such a meet and acceptable union as God or- 
 dained in marriage, at least in some proportion, it can- 
 not conceive and bring forth love, but remains utterly 
 unmarried under a former wedlock, and still burns in 
 the proper meaning of St. Paul. Then enters Hate, 
 not that hate that sins, but that which only is natural 
 dissatisfaction, and the turning aside from a mistaken 
 object : if that mistake have done injury, it fails not to 
 dismiss with recompense ; for to retain still, and not be 
 able to love, is to heap up more injury. Thence this 
 wise and pious law of dismission now defended, took 
 beginning : he therefore who lacking of his due in the 
 most native and humane end of maniage, thinks it 
 better to part than to live sadly and injuriously to that 
 cheerful covenant, (for not to be beloved, and yet re- 
 tained, is the greatest injury to a gentle spirit,) he I 
 say, who therefore seeks to part, is one who highly 
 honours the married life and would not stain it : and 
 the reasons which now move him to divorce, are equal 
 to the best of those that could first warrant hitn to 
 mairy; for, as was plainly shewn, both the hate which 
 now diverts him, and the loneliness which leads him 
 still powerfully to seek a fit help, hath not the least 
 grain of a sin in it, if he be worthy to understand him- 
 self. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 The third reason of this law, because without it, he 
 who has happened where he finds nothing hut remedi- 
 less offences and discontents, is in more and greater 
 temptations than ever before. 
 
 Thirdly, Yet it is next to be feared, if he must be 
 still bound without reason by a deaf rigour, that when 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 129 
 
 he perceives the just expectance of his mind defeated, 
 he will hegin even against law to cast about where he 
 may find his satisfaction more complete, unless he be a 
 thing heroically virtuous; and that are not the com- 
 mon lump of men, for whom chiefly the laws ought to 
 be made ; though not to their sins, yet to their unsin- 
 ning weaknesses, it being above their strength to en- 
 dure the lonely estate, which while they shunned they 
 are fallen into. And yet there follows upon this a 
 worse temptation : for if he be such as hath spent his 
 youth unblaniably, and laid up his chiefest earthly 
 comforts in the enjoyments of a contented marriage, 
 nor did neglect that furtherance which was to be ob- 
 tained therein by constant prayers ; when he shall find 
 himself bound fast to an uncomplying discord of na- 
 ture, or, as it oft happens, to an image of earth and 
 phlegm, with whom he looked to be the copartner of a 
 sweet and gladsome society, and sees witlial that his 
 bondage is now inevitable; though he be almost the 
 strongest Christian, he will be ready to despair in vir- 
 tue, and mutiny against Divine Providence: and this 
 doubtless is the reason of those lapses, and that me- 
 lancholy despair, which we see in many wedded per- 
 sons, though they understand it not, or pretend other 
 causes, because they know no remedy ; and is of ex- 
 treme danger: therefore when human frailty sur- 
 charged is at such a loss, charity ought to venture 
 much, and use bold physic, lest an overtossed faith en- 
 danger to shipwreck. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 The fourth reason of this law, that God regards love 
 and peace in the famili/, more than a comprtlsive per- 
 formance of marriaye, tchivh is more broke by a 
 grievous continuaiice, than by a needful divorce. 
 
 Fourthly, Marriage is a covenant, the very being 
 whereof consists not in a forced cohabitation, and coun- 
 terfeit performance of duties, but in unfeigned love and 
 peace : and of matrimonial love, no doubt but that was 
 chiefly meant, which by the ancient sages was thus 
 parabled ; that Love, if he be not twin born, yet hath 
 a brother wondrous like him, called Anteros ; whom 
 while he seeks all about, his chance is to meet with 
 many false and feigning desires, that wander singly 
 up and down in his likeness : by them in their bor- 
 rowed garb. Love, though not wholly blind, as poets 
 wrong him, yet having but one eye, as being born an 
 archer aiming, and that eye not the quickest in this dark 
 region here below, which is not Love's proper sphere, 
 partly out of the simplicity and credulity which is na- 
 tive to him, often deceived, embraces and consorts him 
 will) these obvious and suborned striplings, as if they 
 were his mother's own sons ; for so he thinks them, 
 while they subtilly keep themselves most on his blind 
 side. But after a w hile, as his manner is, when soar- 
 ing up into the high tower of his Apogseum, above the 
 
 shadow of the earth, he darts out the direct rays of his 
 then most piercing eyesight upon the impostures and 
 trim disguises that were used with him, and discerns 
 that this is not his genuine brother as he imagined ; he 
 has no longer the power to hold fellowship with such 
 a personated mate : for straight his arrows lose their 
 golden heads, and shed their purple feathers, his silken 
 braids untwine, and slip their knots, and that original 
 and fiery virtue given him by fate all on a sudden goes 
 out, and leaves him undeified and despoiled of all his 
 force ; till finding Anteros at last, he kindles and re- 
 pairs the almost faded ammunition of his deity by the 
 reflection of a coequal and homogeneal fire. Thus 
 mine author sung it to me : and by the leave of those 
 who would be counted the only grave ones, this is no 
 mere amatorious novel (though to be wise and skilful 
 in these matters, men heretofore of greatest name in 
 virtue have esteemed it one of the highest arcs, that 
 human contemplation circling upwards can make from 
 the globy sea whereon she stands) : but this is a deep 
 and serious verity, shewing us that love in marriage 
 cannot live nor subsist unless it be mutual ; and where 
 love cannot be, tliere can be left of wedlock notiiing 
 but the empty husk of an outside matrimony, as unde- 
 lightful and unpleasing to God as any other kind of 
 hypocrisy. So far is his command from tying men to 
 the obsen'ance of duties which there is no help for, 
 but they must be dissembled. If Solomon's advice be 
 not over-frolic, " live joyfully," saith he, " with the wife 
 whom thou lovcst, all thy days, for that is thy portion." 
 How then, where we find it impossible to rejoice or to 
 love, can we obey this precept ? How miserably do 
 we defraud oui-selves of that comfortable portion, which 
 God gives us, by striving vainly to glue an errour to- 
 gether, which God and nature will not join, adding 
 but more vexation and violence to that blissful society 
 by our importunate superstition, that will not hearken 
 to St. Paul, 1 Cor. vii. who, speaking of marriage and 
 divorce, determines plain enough in general, that God 
 therein " hath called us to peace, and not to bondage." 
 Yea, God himself commands in bis law more than once, 
 and by his prophet Malachi, as Calvin and the best 
 translations read, that " he who hates, let him divorce," 
 that is, he who cannot love. Hence it is that the rab- 
 bins, and Maimonides, famous among the rest, in a 
 book of his set forth by Buxtorfius, tells us, that "di- 
 vorce was permitted by Moses to preserve peace in 
 marriage, and quiet in the family." Surely the Jews 
 had their saving peace about them as well as we, yet 
 care was taken that this wholesome provision for 
 household peace should also be allowed them : and 
 must this be denied to Christians ? O perverseness ! 
 that the law siiould be made more provident of peace- 
 making than the gospel ! that the gospel should be 
 put to beg a most necessary help of mercy from the 
 law, but must not have it ; and that to grind in the 
 mill of an undelighted and servile copulation, must be 
 the only forced work of a christian marriage, ofttimes 
 with such a j-okefellow, from whom both love and 
 peace, both nature and religion mourns to be sepa- 
 rated. I cannot therefore be so diffident, as not se» 
 
190 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 curely to conclude, that he who can receirc nothings of 
 the most important helps in marria|ife, being' thereby 
 disinablcd to return that duty which is his, with a clear 
 and hearty countenance, and thus continues to g^eve 
 whom he would not, and is no less grieved ; that man 
 ought even for love's sake and peace to move divorce 
 upon good and liberal conditions to the divorced. 
 And it is a less breach of wedlock to part with wise and 
 quiet consent betimes, than still to foil and profane 
 that mystery of joy and union with a polluting sadness 
 and perpetual distemper : for it is not the outward con- 
 tinuing of marriage that keeps whole that covenant, 
 but whatsoever does most according to peace and love, 
 whether in marriage or in divorce, he it is that breaks 
 marriage least ; it being so often written, that " Love 
 only is the fulfilling of every commandment." 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 The fifth reason, that nothing more hinders and dis- 
 turbs the whole life of a Christian, than a matrimony 
 found to be incurably unfit, and doth the same in 
 effect that an idolatrous match. 
 
 Fifthly, As those priests of old were not to be long 
 in sorrow, or if they were, they could not rightly exe- 
 cute their function ; so every true Christian in a higher 
 order of priesthood, is a person dedicate to joy and 
 peace, offering himself a lively sacrifice of praise and 
 thanksgiving, and there is no christian duty that is not 
 to be seasoned and set off with cheerishness ; which in 
 a thousand outward and intermitting crosses may yet 
 be done well, as in this vale of tears : but in such a bo- 
 som affliction as this, crushing the very foundation of 
 his inmost nature, when he shall be forced to love 
 against a possibility, and to use a dissimulation against 
 his soul in the perpetual and ceaseless duties of a hus- 
 band ; doubtless his w hole duty of serving God must 
 needs be blurred and tainted with a sad unprepared- 
 ness and dejection of spirit wherein God has no delight. 
 Who sees not therefore how much more Christianity 
 it would be to break by divorce, that which is more 
 broken by undue and forcible keeping, rather than " to 
 cover the altar of the Lord with continual tears, so that 
 he regardeth not the offering any more," rather than 
 that the whole worship of a christian man's life should 
 languish and fade away beneath the weight of an im- 
 measurable grief and discouragement .'* And because 
 some think the children of a second matrimony suc- 
 ceeding a divorce would not be a holy seed, it hindered 
 not the Jews from being so ; and why should we not 
 think them more holy than the offspring of a former 
 ill-twisted wedlock, begotten only out of a bestial ne- 
 cessity, without any true love or contentment, or joy 
 to their parents ? So that in some sense we may call 
 them the " children of wrath" and anguish, which will 
 as little conduce to their sanctifying, as if they had 
 been bastards: for nothing more than disturbance of 
 mind suspends us from approaching to God ; such a 
 
 disturbance especially, as both assaults our faith and 
 trust in God's providence, and ends, if there be not a 
 miracle of virtue on either side, not only in bitterness 
 and wrath, the canker of devotion, but in a desperate 
 and vicious carelessness, when he sees himself, w ithout 
 fault of his, trained by a deceitful bait into a snare of 
 misery, betrayed by an alluring ordinance, and then 
 made the thrall of heaviness and discomfort by an uu- 
 divorcing law of God, as he erroneously thinks, but of 
 roan's iniquity, as the truth is : for that God prefers the 
 free and cheerful worship of a Christian, before the 
 grievance and exacted observance of an unhappy mar- 
 riage, besides that the general maxims of religion as- 
 sure us, will be more manifest by drawing a parallel 
 argument from the ground of divorcing an idolatress, 
 which was, lest he should alienate his heart from the 
 true worship of God : and what difference is there 
 whether she pervert him to superstition by her enticing 
 sorcery, or disenable him in the whole service of God 
 through the disturbance of her unhelpful and unfit 
 society ; and so drive him at last, through murmuring 
 and despair, to thoughts of atheism .'* Neither doth it 
 lessen the cause of separating, in that the one willingly 
 allures him from the faith, the other perhaps unwill- 
 ingly drives him ; for in the account of God it comes 
 all to one, that the wife loses him a servant: and there- 
 fore by all the united force of the Decalogue she ought 
 to be disbanded, unless we must set marriage above 
 God and charity, which is the doctrine of devils, no 
 less than forbidding to marry. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 That an idolatrous heretic ought to be divorced, after 
 a convenient space given to hope of conversion. That 
 place of I Cor. vii. restored from a twofold errone- 
 ous exposition ; and that the common expositors 
 flatly contradict the moral law. 
 
 And here by the way, to illustrate the whole ques- 
 tion of divorce, ere this treatise end, I shall not be loth 
 to spend a few lines in hope to give a full resolve of 
 that which is yet so much controverted ; whether an 
 idolatrous heretic ought to be divorced. To the resolv- 
 ing whereof we must first know, that tlie Jews were 
 commanded to divorce an unbelieving Gentile for two 
 causes : First, because all other nations, especially the 
 Canaanites, were to them unclean. Secondly, to avoid 
 seducement. That other nations were to the Jews im- 
 pure, even to the scpJirating of maniage, will appear 
 out of Exod. xxxiv. 16, Deut. vii. 3, 6, compared with 
 Ezra ix. 2, also chap. x. 10, 11, Neb. xiii. 30. This 
 was the ground of that doubt raised among the Corin- 
 thians by some of the circumcision ; w hether an unbe- 
 liever were not still to be counted an unclean thing, so 
 as that they ought lo divorce from such a person. This 
 doubt of theirs St. Paul removes by an evangelical 
 reason, having respect to that vision of St. Peter, where- 
 in the distinction of clean and unclean being abolished, 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 ni 
 
 all living creatures were sanctified to a pure and chris- 
 tian use, and mankind especially, now invited by a 
 general call to the covenant of grace. Therefore saith 
 St. Paul, " The unbelieving wife is sanctified by the 
 husband;" that is, made pure and lawful to his use, 
 so that he need not put her away for fear lest her un- 
 belief should defile him; but that if he found her love 
 still towards him, he might rather hope to win her. 
 The second reason of that divorce was to avoid seduce- 
 ment, as is proved by comparing those two places of 
 the law to that which Ezra and Nehemiah did by di- 
 vine warrant in compelling the Jews to forego their 
 wives. And this reason is moral and perpetual in the 
 rule of christian faith without evasion ; therefore saith 
 the apostle, 2 Cor. vi. " Misyoke not togetlier with 
 infidels," which is interpreted of marriage in the first 
 place. And although the former legal pollution be now 
 done off, yet there is a spiritual contagion in idolatry 
 as much to be shunned ; and though seduccment were 
 not to be feared, yet where there is no hope of convert- 
 ing, there always ought to be a certain religious aver- 
 sation and abhorring, which can no way sort with 
 marriage : Therefore saith St. Paul, " What fellowship 
 hath righteousness with unrighteousness? What com- 
 munion hath light with darkness? What concord hath 
 Christ with Belial ? What part hath he that believeth 
 with an infidel?" And in the next verse but one 
 he moralizes, and makes us liable to that command of 
 Isaiah; " Wherefore come out from among them, and 
 be separate, saith the Lord ; touch not the unclean 
 thing, and I will receive ye." And this command thus 
 gospelized to us, hath the same force with that where- 
 on Ezra grounded the pious necessity of divorcing. 
 Neither had he other commission for what he did, 
 than such a general command in Deut. as this, nay 
 not so direct ; for he is bid there not to marry, but 
 not bid to divorce, and yet we see with what a zeal 
 and confidence he was the author of a general divorce 
 between the faithful and the unfaithful seed. The 
 gospel is more plainly on his side, according to three 
 of the evangelists, than the words of the law ; for 
 where the case of divorce is handled with such seve- 
 rity, as was fittest to aggravjite the fault of unbounded 
 licence ; j'et still in the same chapter, w lien it comes 
 into question afterwards, whether any civil respect, or 
 natural relation which is dearest, may be our plea to 
 divide, or hinder or but delay our duty to religion, we 
 hear it determined that father, and mother, and wife 
 also, is not only to be hated, but forsaken, if we mean 
 to inherit the great reward there promised. Nor will 
 it suffice to be put off by saying we must forsake them 
 only by not consenting or not complying with them, 
 for that were to be done, and roundly too, though being 
 of the same faith, they should but seek out of a fleshly 
 tenderness to weaken our christian fortitude with 
 worldly persuasions, or but to unsettle our constancy 
 with timorous and softening suggestions ; as we may 
 read with what a vehemence Job, the patientest of 
 men, rejected the desperate counsels of his wife ; and 
 Moses, the meekest, being thoroughly oflTended with 
 the prophane speeclies of Zippora, sent her back to her 
 
 father. But if they shall perpetually, at our elbow, 
 seduce us from the true worship of God, or defile and 
 daily scandalize our conscience by their hopeless con- 
 tinuance in misbelief; then even in the due progress 
 of reason, and that ever equal proportion which justice 
 proceeds by, it cannot be imagined tliat his cited place 
 com'mands less than a total and final separation from 
 such an adherent; at least that no force should be used 
 to keep them together ; while we remember that God 
 commanded Abraham to send away his irreligious wife 
 and her son for the offences which they gave in a pious 
 family. And it may be guessed that David for the like 
 cause disposed of Michal in such a sort, as little differed 
 from a dismission. Therefore against reiterated scan- 
 dals and seduceraents, which never cease, much more 
 can no other remedy or retirement be found but abso- 
 lute departure. For what kind of matrimony can tliat 
 remain to be, what one duty between such can be per- 
 formed as it should be from the heart, when their 
 thoughts and spirits fly asunder as far as heaven and 
 hell ; especially if the time that hope should send forth 
 her expected blossoms, be past in vain ? It will easily 
 be true, that a father or a brother may be hated zeal- 
 ously, and loved civilly or naturally ; for those duties 
 may be performed at distance, and do admit of any 
 long absence : but how the peace and perpetual coha- 
 bitation of marriage can be kept, how that benevolent 
 and intimate communion of body can be held, with one 
 that must be hated with a most operative hatred, must 
 be forsaken and yet continually dwelt with and accom- 
 panied ; he who can distinguish, hath the gift of an 
 affection very oddly divided and contrived : while 
 others both just and wise, and Solomon among the rest, 
 if they may not hate and forsake as Moses enjoins, 
 and the gospel imports, will find it impossible not to 
 love otherwise than will sort with the love of God, 
 whose jealousy brooks no corrival. And whether is 
 more likely, that Christ bidding to forsake wife for 
 religion, meant it by divorce as Moses meant it, who.sc 
 law, grounded on moral reason, was both his office and 
 his essence to maintain ; or that he should bring a new 
 morality into religion, not only new, but contrary to 
 an unchangeable command, and dangerously derogat- 
 ing from our love and worship of God ? As if when 
 Moses had bid divorce absolutely, and Christ had said, 
 hate and foi-sake, and his apostle had said, no commu- 
 nication with Christ and Belial ; yet that Christ after 
 all this could be underetood to say, divorce not, no not 
 for religion, seduce, or seduce not. What mighty and 
 invisible remora is this in matrimony, able to demur 
 and to contemn all the divorcive engines in heaven or 
 earth ! both which may now pass away, if this be true, 
 for more than many jots or tittles, a whole moral law 
 is abolished. But if we dare believe it is not, then in 
 the method of religion, and to save the honour and 
 dignity of our faith, we are to retreat and gather up 
 ourselves from the observance of an inferior and civil 
 ordinance, to the strict maintaining of a general and 
 religious command, which is written, " Thou shalt 
 make no covenant with them," Deut. vii, 2, 3 : and 
 that covenant which cannot be lawfully made, we have 
 
132 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 directions and examples lawfully to dissolve. Also 
 2 Chroii. ii. 19, " Shoiildcst thou love them that hate 
 the Lord ?" No, doubtless ; for there is a certain scale 
 of duties, there is a certain hierarchy of upper and 
 lower commands, which for want of studying in right 
 order, all the world is in confusion. 
 
 Upon these principles I answer, that a right believer 
 ought to divorce an idolatrous heretic, unless upon 
 better hopes: however, tliat it is in the believer's choice 
 to divorce or not. 
 
 The former part will be manifest thus first, that an 
 apostate idolater, whether husband or wife seducing, 
 \vas to die by the decree of God, Deut. xiii. 6, 9 ; that 
 marriage therefore God himself disjoins : for others 
 born idolaters, the moral reason of their dangerous 
 keeping, and the incommunicable antagony that is be- 
 tween Christ and Belial, will be sufficient to enforce 
 the commandment of those two inspired reformers Ezra 
 and Nehemiah, to put an idolater away as well under 
 the gospel. 
 
 The latter part, that although there be no seducement 
 feared, yet if there be no hope given, the divorce is 
 lawful, will appear hy this ; that idolatrous marriage 
 is still hateful to God, therefore still it may be divorced 
 by the pattern of that warrant that Ezra had, and by 
 the same everlasting reason': neither can any man 
 give an account wherefore, if those whom God joins 
 no man can separate, it should not follow, that whom 
 he joins not, but hates to join, those men ought to 
 separate. But saith the lawyer, " That which ought 
 not to have been done, once done, avails." I answer, 
 " this is but a crotchet of the law, but that brought 
 against it is plain Scripture." As for what Christ spake 
 concerning divorce, it is confessed by all knowing men, 
 he meant only between them of the same faith. But 
 what shall we say then to St. Paul, who seems to bid 
 us not divorce an infidel willing to stay ? AV'e may 
 safely say thus, that wrong collections have been 
 hitherto made out of those words by modem divines. 
 His drift, as was heard before, is plain ; not to com- 
 mand our stay in marriage with an infidel, that had 
 been a flat renouncing of the religious and moral law ; 
 but to inform the Corinthians, that the body of an un- 
 believer was not defiling, if his desire to live in chris- 
 tian wedlock shewed any likelihood that his heart was 
 opening to the faith ; and therefore advises to forbear 
 departure so long till nothing have been neglected to 
 set forward a conversion : this I say he advises, and 
 that with certain cautions, not commands, if we can 
 take up so much credit for him, as to get him ijelieved 
 uj)on his own word : for what is this else but his coun- 
 sel in a thing indifferent, " to the rest speak I, not the 
 Lord?" for though it be true, that the Lord never spake 
 it, yet from St. Paul's mouth we should have took it as 
 a command, had not himself forewarned us, .ind dis- 
 claimed ; which notwithstanding if we shall still avouch 
 to be a command, he palpably denying it, this is not 
 to expound St. Paul, but to outface him. Neither doth 
 it follow, that the apostle may interpose his judgment 
 in a case of christian liberty, without the guilt of add- 
 ing to God's word. How do wc know marriage or 
 
 single life to be of choice, but by such like words as 
 these, " I speak this by per.nission, not of command- 
 ment ; I have no command of the lK)rd,yet I give my 
 judgment." Why shall not the like words have leave 
 to signify a freedom in this our present question, 
 though Beza deny ? Neither is the Scripture hereby 
 less inspired, because St. Paul confesses to have written 
 therein what he had not of command : for we gram 
 that the Spirit of God led him thus to express himself 
 to christian prudence, in a matter which God thought 
 best to leave uncommanded. Beza therefore must be 
 warily read, when he taxes St. Austin of blasphemy, 
 for holding that St. Paul spake here as of a thing in- 
 diflPerent. But if it must be a command, I shall yet the 
 more evince it to be a command that we should herein 
 be left free ; and that out of the Greek word used in 
 the 12th ver., which instructs us plainly, there must be 
 a joint assent and good liking on both sides : he that 
 will not deprave the text must thus render it; "If a 
 brother have an unbelieving wife, and she join in con- 
 sent to dwell with him," (which cannot utter less to us 
 than a mutual agreement,) let him not put her away 
 from the mere surmise of judaical uncleanness : and 
 the reason follows, for the body of an infidel is not 
 polluted, neither to benevolence, nor to procreation. 
 jMoreover, this note of mutual complacency forbids all 
 oflTer of seducement, which to a person' of zeal cannot 
 be attempted without great offence : if therefore seduce- 
 ment be feared, this place hinders not divorce. An- 
 other caution was put in this supposed command, of 
 not bringing the believer into ' bondage ' hereby, which 
 doubtless might prove extreme, if christian liberty -and 
 conscience were left to the humour of a pagan staying 
 at pleasure to play with, and to vex and wound with a 
 thousand scandals and burdens, above strength to bear. 
 If therefore the conceived hope of gaining a soul come 
 to nothing, then charity commands that the believer 
 be not wearied out with endless waiting under many 
 grievances sore to his spirit ; but that respect be bad 
 rather to the present suflTsring of a true Christian, than 
 the uncertain winning of an obdurate heretic. The 
 counsel we have from St. Paul to hope, cannot counter- 
 mand the moral and evangelic charge we have fromj 
 God to fear seducement, to separate from the misbe* 
 liever, the unclean, the obdurate. The apostle wisheth 
 us to hope ; but does not send us a wool-gathcringf 
 after vain hope ; he saith, " How knowest thou, O man, 
 whether thou shalt save thy wife ?" that is, till he try 
 all due means, and set some reasonable time to himself, 
 after which he may give over washing an Ethiop, i( 
 he will hear the advice of tiie gospel ; " Cast not pearlsi 
 before swine," saith Christ himself. " Let him be to 
 thee as a heathen. Shake the dust off" thy feet." H 
 this be not enough, " hate and forsake " what relation 
 soever. And this also that follows must appertain to 
 the precept, " Let every man wherein he is called, 
 therein abide with God," v. 24, that is, so walking in 
 his inferior calling of marriage, as not by dangerous 
 subjection to that ordinance, to hinder and disturb the 
 higher calling of his Christianity. I^st, and never 
 too oft remembered, whether this be a command, or 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 133 
 
 an advice, we must look that it be so understood as 
 not to contradict the least point of moral relig'ion that 
 God hath formerly commanded ; otherwise what do 
 wc but set the moral law and the gospel at civil war 
 together ? and who then shall be able to serve these 
 two masters ? 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 I'hat adultery is not the greatest breach of matrimony : 
 that there may he other violations as great. 
 
 Now whether idolatry or adultery be the greatest 
 violation of marriage, if any demand let him thus con- 
 sider ; that among christian writers touching matri- 
 mony, there be three chief ends thereof agreed on : 
 godly society, next civil, and thirdly, that of the mar- 
 riage-bed. Of these the first in name to be the highest 
 and most excellent, no baptized man can deny, nor 
 that idolatry smites directly against this prime end ; 
 nur that such as the violated end is, such is the viola- 
 tion : but he who affirms adultery to be the highest 
 breach, affirms the bed to be the highest of marriage, 
 which is in truth a gross and boorish opinion, how 
 common soever : as iiir from the countenance of Scrip- 
 ture, as from the light of all clean philosophy or civil 
 nature. And out of the question the cheerful help that 
 may be in marriage toward sanctity of life, is the 
 purest, and so the noblest end of that contract : but if 
 the particular of each person be considered, then of 
 those three ends which God appointed, tliat to him is 
 greatest which is most necessary ; ai.d marriage is then 
 most broken to him when he utterly wants the fruition 
 of that which he most sought therein, whether it were 
 religious, civil, or corporal society. Of which wants to 
 do him right by divorce only for the last and meanest 
 is a perverse injury, and ti)e pretended reason of it as 
 frigid as frigidity itself, whicii the code and canon are 
 only sensible of. Thus much of this controversy. I 
 now return to the former argument. And having shewn 
 that disproportion, contrariety, or numbness of mind 
 may justly be divorced, by proving already the prohi- 
 l)ition thereof opposes the express end of God's institu- 
 tion, suffers not marriage to satisfy that intellectual and 
 innocent desire which God himself kindled in man to 
 be the bond of wedlock, but only to remedy a sublunary 
 and bestial burning, which frugal diet, without mar- 
 riage, would easily chasten. Next, that it drives many 
 to transgress the conjugal bed, while the soul wanders 
 after that satisfaction which it had hope to find at home, 
 but hath missed ; or else it sits repining', even to athe- 
 ism, finding itself hardly dealt with, but misdeeming 
 the cause to be in God's law, which is in man's unright- 
 eous ignorance. I have shewn also how it unties the 
 inward knot of marriage, which is peace and love, (if 
 tliat can be untied which was never knit,) while it aims 
 to keep fast the outward formality : how it lets perish the 
 christian man, to compel impossibly the married man. 
 
 • The first edition has svpernatural. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 The sixth reason of this law ; that to prohibit divorce 
 sought for natural cases, is against nature. 
 
 The sixth place declares this prohibition to be as 
 respectless of human nature, as it is of religion, and 
 therefore is not of God. He teaches, that an unlawful 
 marriage may be lawfully divorced : and that those 
 who have thoroughly discerned each other's disposition, 
 which ofttimes cannot be till after matrimony, shall 
 then find a powerful reluctance and recoil of nature on 
 either side, blasting all the content of their mutual 
 society, that such persons are not lawfully married, (to 
 use the apostle's words,) " Say I these things as a man, 
 or saith not the law also the same ? For it is written, 
 Deut. xxii. Thou shalt not sow thy vineyard with dif- 
 ferent seeds, lest thou defile both. Thou shalt not 
 plough with an ox and an ass together ;" and the like. 
 I follow the pattern of St. Paul's reasoning ; " Doth 
 God care for asses and oxen," how ill they yoke toge- 
 ther, " or is it not said altogether for our sakes .'' for our 
 sakes no doubt this is written." Yea the apostle him- 
 self, in the forecited 2 Cor. vi. 14. alludes from that 
 place of Deut. to forbid misyoking mairiage, as by the 
 Greek word is evident; though he instance but in one 
 example of mismatching with an infidel, yet next to 
 that, what can be a fouler incongruity, a greater vio- 
 lence to the reverend secret of nature, than to force a 
 mixture of minds that cannot unite, and to sow the 
 sorroiv of man's nativity with seed of two incoherent 
 and incombining dispositions .** which act being kindly 
 and voluntary, as it ought, the apostle in the language 
 he wrote called cunoia, and the Latins, benevolence, 
 intimating the original thereof to be in the understand- 
 ing, and the will ; if not, surely there is nothing which 
 might more properly be called a malevolence rather ; 
 and is the most injurious and unnatural tribute that 
 can be extorted from a person endued with reason, to 
 be made pay out the best substance of his body, and of 
 his soul too, as some think, when either for just and 
 powerful causes he cannot like, or from unequal causes 
 finds not recompense. And that there is a hidden effi- 
 cacy of love and hatred in man as well as in other 
 kinds, not moral but natural, which though not always 
 in the choice, yet in the success of marriage will ever 
 be most predominant ; besides daily experience, tlie 
 author of Ecclesiasticus, whose wisdom hath set him 
 next the Bible, acknowledges, xiii. 16, " A man, saith 
 he, will cleave to his like." But what might be the 
 cause, whether each one's allotted Genius or proper 
 star, or whether the supernal* influence of schemes and 
 angular aspects, or this elemental crasis here below ; 
 whether all these jointly or singly meeting friendly, or 
 unfriendly in either party, I dare not, with the men I 
 am like to clash, appear so much a philosopher as to 
 conjecture. The ancient proverb in Homer less ab- 
 struse, entitles this work of leading each like person 
 to his like, peculiarly to God himself: which is plain 
 enough also by his naming of a meet or like help in 
 the first espousal instituted ; and that every woman is 
 
i:m 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 meet for every man, none so absuni as to affirm. See- 
 ing' then there is u twofold seminary, or stock in nature, 
 from whence are derived the issues of love and hatred, 
 distinctly flowing through the whole mass of created 
 things, and that God's doing ever is to bring the due 
 likenesses and harmonies of bis works together, except 
 when out of two contraries met to their own destruc- 
 tion, be moulds a third existence ; and that it is errour, 
 or some evil angel which either blindly or maliciously 
 hath drawn together, in two persons ill embarked in 
 wedlock, the sleeping discords and enmities of nature, 
 lulled on purpose with some false bait, that they may 
 wake to agony and strife, later than prevention could 
 have wished, if from the bent of just and honest inten- 
 tions beginning what was begun and so continuing, all 
 that is equal, all that is fair and possible hath been 
 tried, and no accommodation likely to succeed ; what 
 folly is it still to stand combating and battering against 
 invincible causes and effects, with evil upon evil, till 
 cither the best of our days be lingered out, or ended 
 « ith some speeding sorrow ! The wise Ecclesiasticus 
 advises rather, xxxvii. 27, " My son, prove thy soul in 
 thy life, see what is evil for it, and give not that unto 
 it." Reason be bad to say so ; for if the noisomeness 
 or disfigurement of body can soon destroy the sympathy 
 of mind to wedlock duties, much more will the annoy- 
 ance and trouble of mind infuse itself into all the facul- 
 ties and acts of the body, to render them invalid, un- 
 kindly, and even unholy against the fundamental law 
 book of nature, which Moses never thwarts, but rever- 
 ences : therefore he commands us to force nothing 
 against sympathy or natural order, no not upon the 
 mijst abject creatures ; to shew that such an indignity 
 cannot be offered to man without an impious crime. 
 And certainly those divine meditating words of finding 
 oat a meet and like help to man, have in them a con- 
 sideration of more than the indefinite likeness of 
 womanhood ; nor are they to be made waste paper on, 
 for the dulness of canon divinity : no, nor those other 
 allegoric precepts of beneficence fetched out of the 
 closet of nature, to teach us goodness and compassion 
 in not compelling together unmatchable societies; or 
 if they meet through mischance, by all consequence to 
 disjoin them, as God and nature signifies, and lectures 
 to us not only by those recited decrees, but even by the 
 first and last of all his visible works ; when by his di- 
 vorcing command the world first rose out of chaos, nor 
 can be renewed again out of confusion, but by the 
 separating of unmeet consorts. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 The seventh reason, that sometimes continuance in mar- 
 riage may be evidently the shortening or endanger- 
 ing of life to either party ; both law and divinity 
 concluding, that life is to be preferred before mar- 
 riage, the intended solace of life. 
 
 Sevbnthly, The canon law and divines consent, 
 tfaat if either party be found contriving against ano- 
 
 ther's life, they may be severed by divorce: for a sin 
 against the life of marriage is greater than a sin against 
 the bed ; the one destroys, the other but defiles. The 
 same may be said touching those persons who being of 
 a pensive nature and course of life, have summed up 
 all their solace in that free and lightsome conversation 
 which God and man intends in marriage ; whereof 
 when they see themselves deprived by meeting an un- 
 sociable consort, they ofttimes resent one another's 
 mistake so deeply, that long it is not ere grief end one 
 of them. When therefore this danger is foreseen, that 
 the life is in peril by living together, what matter is it 
 whether helpless grief or wilful practice be the cause ? 
 This is certain, that the preservation of life is more 
 worth than the compulsory keeping of marriage; and 
 it is no less than cruelty to force a man to remain in 
 that state as the solace of his life, which he and his 
 friends know will be either the undoing or the dis- 
 heartening of his life. And what is life without the 
 vigour and spiritual exercise of life .-• How can it be 
 useful either to private or public employment ? Shall it 
 therefore be quite dejected, though never so valuable, 
 and left to moulder away in heaviness, for the super- 
 stitious and impossible performance of an ill-driven 
 bargain ? Nothing more inviolable than vows made to 
 God ; j-et we read in Numbers, that if a wife had 
 made such a vow, the mere will and authority of her 
 husband might break it : how much more then may he 
 break the error of his own bonds with an unfit and 
 mistaken wife, to the saving of his welfare, his life, 
 yea his faith and virtue, from the hazard of overstrong 
 temptations ? For if man be lord of the sabbath, to the 
 curing of a fever, can he be less than lord of marriage 
 in such important causes as these .'' 
 
 CHAP. XH. 
 
 The eighth reason, It is probable, or leather certain, 
 that every one who happens to marry, hath not the 
 calling ; and therefore upon unfitness found and 
 considered, force ought not to be used. 
 
 Eighthly, It is most sure that some even of thost 
 who are not plainly defective in body, yet are desti- 
 tute of all other marriageable gifts, and consequently 
 have not the calling to marry, unless nothing be re- 
 quisite thereto but a mere instrumental body ; which 
 to affirm, is to that unanimous covenant a reproach : 
 yet it is as sure that many such, not of their own de- 
 sire, but by the persuasion of friends, or not knowing 
 themselves, do often enter into wedlock ; where find- 
 ing the difference at length between the duties of a 
 mamed life, and the gifts of a single life, what unfit- 
 ness of mind, what wearisomeness, scruples, and doubt*;, 
 to an incredible offence and displeasure, are like to fol- 
 low between, may be soon imagined ; whom thus to 
 shut up, and immure, and shut up together, the one 
 with a mischosen mate, the other in a mistaken call- 
 ing, is not a course that christian Avisdom and tcndtr- 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 135 
 
 ness ought to use. As for the custom that some parents 
 and guardians have of forcing marriages, it will be 
 better to say nothing of such a savage inhumanity, 
 but only thus; that the law which gives not all free- 
 dom of divorce to any creature endued with reason so 
 assassinated, is next in cruelty. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The ninth reason ; because matinage is not a mere 
 carnal coition, hit a human society: where that can- 
 not reasonably be had, there can be no true matri- 
 mony. Marriage compared with all other cove- 
 nants and vows warrantably broken for the good of 
 man. Marriage the Papists' sacrament, and unfit 
 marriage the Protestants' idol. 
 
 Ninthly, I suppose it will be allowed us that mar- 
 riage is a human society, and that all human society 
 must proceed from the mind rather than the body, else 
 it would be but a kind of animal or bcastish meeting: 
 if the mind therefore cannot have that due company 
 by marriage that it may reasonably and humanly de- 
 sire, that marriage can be no human society, but a cer- 
 tain formality; or gilding over of little better than a 
 brutish congress, and so in very wisdom and pureness 
 to be dissolved. 
 
 But marriage is more than human, " the covenant 
 of God," Prov. ii. 17, therefore man cannot dissolve it. 
 I answer, if it be more than human, so much the more 
 it argues the chief society thereof to be in the soul ra- 
 ther than in the body, and the greatest breach thereof 
 to be unfitness of mind rather than defect of body : for 
 the body can have least afRnity in a covenant more 
 than human, so that the reason of dissolving holds good 
 the rather. Again, I answer, that the sabbath is a 
 higher institution, a command of the first table, for the 
 breach whereof God hath far more and oftener testified 
 his anger than for divorces, which from Moses to Ma- 
 lachi he never took displeasure at, nor then neither if 
 we mark the te.\t ; and yet as oft as the good of man is 
 concerned, he not only permits, but commands to break 
 the sabbath. What covenant more contracted with 
 God and less in man's power, than the vow which hath 
 once passed his lips .•* yet if it be found rash, if offen- 
 sive, if unfruitful either to God's glory or the good of 
 man, our doctrine forces not error and unwillingness 
 irksomely to keep it, but counsels wisdom and better 
 thoughts boldly to break it ; therefore to enjoin the in- 
 dissoluble keeping of a marriage found unfit against 
 the good of man both soul and body, as hath been evi- 
 denced, is to make an idol of marriage, to advance it 
 above the worship of God and the good of man, to make 
 it a transcendent command, above both the second and 
 first table ; which is a most prodigious doctrine. 
 
 Next, whereas they cite out of the Proverbs, that it 
 is the covenant of God, and therefore more than hu- 
 man, that consequence is manifestly false : for so the 
 covenant which Zedekiah made with the infidel king 
 
 of Babel, is called the Covenant of God, Ezek. xvii. 
 19, which would be strange to hear counted more than 
 a human covenant. So every covenant between man 
 and man, bound by oath, may be called the covenant 
 of God, because God therein is attested. So of mar- 
 riage he is the autlior and the witness ; yet hence will 
 not follow any divine astriction more than what is sub- 
 ordinate to the glory of God, and the main good of 
 either party : for as the glory of God and their es- 
 teemed fitness one for the other, was the motive which 
 led them both at first to think without other revelation 
 that God had joined them together ; so when it shall 
 be found by their apparent unfitness, that their con- 
 tinuing to be man and wife is against the glory of God 
 and their mutual happiness, it may assure them that 
 God never joined them ; who hath revealed his gra- 
 cious w ill not to set the ordinance above the man for 
 whom it was ordained ; not to canonize marriage either 
 as a tyranness or a goddess over the enfranchised life 
 and soul of man ; for wherein can God delight, 
 wherein be worshipped, wherein be glorified by the 
 forcible continuing of an improper and ill-yoking cou- 
 ple ? He that loved not to see the disparity of several 
 cattle at the plough, cannot be pleased with vast un- 
 mectncss in marriage. Where can be the peace and 
 love which must invite God to such a house ? May 
 it not be feared that the not divorcing of such a help- 
 less disagreement will be the divorcing of God finally 
 from such a place? But it is a trial of our patience, 
 say they : I grant it ; but which of Job's afflictions 
 were sent him with that law, tliat he might not use 
 means to remove any of them if he could ? And what 
 if it subvert our patience and our faith too? Who 
 shall answer for the perishing of all those souls, perish- 
 ing by stubborn expositions of particular and inferior 
 precepts against the general and supreme rule of cha- 
 rity ? They dare not afflrm that marriage is either a 
 sacrament or a mystery, though all those sacred things 
 give place to man ; and yet they invest it with such 
 an awful sanctity, and give it such adamantine chains 
 to bind with, as if it were to be worshipped like some 
 Indian deity, when it can confer no blessing upon us, 
 but works more aijd more to our misery. To such 
 teachers the saying of St. Peter at the council of Jeru- 
 salem will do well to be applied : " Why tempt ye 
 God to put a yoke upon the necks of" Christian men, 
 which neither the Jews, God's ancient people, "nor 
 we are able to bear ; " and nothing but unwary ex- 
 pounding hath brought upon us ? 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 Considerations concerning Familism, Antinomianism ; 
 and why it may be thought that such opinions may 
 proceed from the undue restraint of some just liberty, 
 than which no greater cause to contemn discipline. 
 
 To these considerations this also may be added as no 
 improbable conjecture, seeing that sort of men who 
 
136 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 fullow Anabaptism, Familisni, Antinomianistn, and 
 other fanatic dreams, (if* we understand them not amiss,) 
 be such most commonly as are by nature addicted to 
 religion, of life also not debauched, and that their opi- 
 nions having full swing, do end in satisfaction of the 
 flesh ; it may be come with reason into the thoughts of 
 a wise man, whether all this proceed not partly, if not 
 chiefly, from the restraint of some lawful liberty-, which 
 ought to be given men, and is denied them ? As by 
 physic we learn in nienstruous bodies, where nature's 
 current hath been stopped, that the suflbcation and up- 
 ward forcing of some lower part aflects the head and 
 inward sense with dotage and idle fancies. And on 
 the other hand, whether the rest of vulgar men not so 
 religiously professing, do not give themselves much 
 the more to whoredom and adulteries, loving the cor- 
 rupt and venial discipline of clergy-courts, but hating 
 to hear of perfect reformation ; whenas they foresee 
 that then fornication shall be austerely censured, adul- 
 tery punished, and marriage, the appointed refuge of 
 nature, though it hap to be never so incongruous and 
 displeasing, must yet of force be worn out, when it can 
 be to no other purpose but of strife and hatred, a thing 
 odious to God ? This may be worth the study of skil- 
 ful men in theology, and the reason of things. And 
 lastly, to examine whether some undue and ill ground- 
 ed strictness upon the blameless nature of man, be not 
 the cause in those places where already reformation is, 
 
 that the discipline of the church, so often, and so una- 
 voidably broken, is brought into contempt and deri- 
 sion ? And if it be thus, let those who are still bent to 
 hold this obstinate literality, so prepare themselves, as 
 to siiare in the account for all these transgressions, 
 when it shall be demanded at the last day, by one 
 who will scan and sift things with more than a literal 
 wisdom of equity : for if these reasons be duly pon- 
 dered, and that the gospel is more jealous of laying on 
 excessive burdens than ever the law was, lest the soul 
 of a Christian, which is inestimable, should be over- 
 tempted and cast away ; considering also that many 
 properties of nature, which the power of regeneration 
 itself never alters, may cause dislike of conversing, 
 even between the most sanctified ; which continually 
 grating in harsh tune together, may breed some jar 
 and discord, and that end in rancour and strife, a thing 
 so opposite both to marriage and to Christianity, it 
 would perhaps be less scandal to divorce a natural dis- 
 parity, than to link violently together an unchristian 
 dissension, committing two insnared souls inevitably to 
 kindle one another, not with the fire of love, but with a 
 hatred irreconcileable ; who, were they dissevered, 
 would be straight friends in any other relation. But 
 if an alphabetical servility must be still urged, it may 
 so fall out, that the true church may unwittingly use 
 as much cruelty in forbidding to divorce, as the church 
 of Antichrist doth wilfully in forbidding to marry. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 The ordinance of sabbath and marriage compared. Hyperbole ho unfrequent figure in the gospel. Excess 
 cured by contrary excess. Christ neither did nor could abrogate the law of divorce, but only reprieve t/u 
 abuse thereof 
 
 Hitherto the position undertaken has been declared, 
 and proved by a law of God, that law proved to be 
 moral, and unaholishable, for many reasons equal, 
 honest, charitable, just, annexed thereto. It follows 
 now, that those places of Scripture, which have a seem- 
 ing to revoke the prudence of Moses, or rather that 
 merciful decree of God, be forthwith explained and re- 
 conciled. For what are all these reasonings worth, 
 will some reply, whenas the words of Christ are plainly 
 against all divorce, " except in case of fornication ?" 
 to whom he whose mind were to answer no more but 
 this, "except also in case of charity," might safely ap- 
 peal to the more plain words of Christ in defence of so 
 excepting. " Thou shalt do no manner of work," 
 saith the commandment of the sabbath. Yes, saith 
 Christ, works of charity. And shall we be more se- 
 vere in paraphrasing the considerate and tender gos- 
 pel, than he was in expounding the rigid and peremp- 
 
 tory law ? What was ever in all appearance less 
 made for man, and more for God alone, than the sab- 
 bath .'' yet when the good of man comes into the scales, 
 we hear that voice of infinite goodness and benignity, 
 that " sabbath was made for man, and not man for 
 sabbath." What thing ever was more made for man 
 alone, and less for God, than marriage ? And shall w t 
 load it with a cruel and senseless bondage utterly 
 against both the good of man, and the glory of God ? 
 Let whoso will now listen, I want neither pall nor 
 mitre, I stay neither for ordination nor induction ; but 
 in the firm faith of a knowing Christian, which is the 
 best and truest endowment of the keys, I pronounce, 
 the man, who shall bind so cruelly a good and gracious 
 ordinance of God, hath not in that the spirit of Christ. 
 Yet that every text of Scripture seeming opposite may 
 be attended with a due exposition, this other part en- 
 sues, and makes account to find no slender arguments 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 137 
 
 for this assertion, out of those very scriptures, which 
 are commonly urg'ed ajjainst it. 
 
 First tlieref'ore let us remember, as a thing not to be 
 denied, that all places of Scripture, wherein just reason 
 of doubt arises from the letter, are to be expounded by 
 considering' upon what occasion every thing is set 
 down, and by comparing other texts. The occasion, 
 which induced our Saviour to speak of divorce, was 
 either to convince the extravagance of the Piiarisees in 
 tliat point, or to give a sharp and vehement answer to 
 a tempting question. And in such cases, that we are 
 not to repose all upon the literal terms of so many words, 
 many instances will teach us : wherein we may plainly 
 discover how Christ meant not to be taken word for 
 word, but like a wise physician, administering one ex- 
 cess against another, to reduce us to a permiss ; where 
 they were too remiss, he saw it needful to seem most 
 severe : in one place he censures an unchaste look to 
 be adultery already committed ; another time he passes 
 over actual adultery with less reproof than for an un- 
 chaste look ; not so heavily condemning secret weak- 
 ness, as open malice : so here he may be justly thought 
 to have given this rigid sentence against divorce, not 
 to cut off all remedy from a good man, who iinds him- 
 self consuming away in a disconsolate and uninjoined 
 matrimony, but to lay a bridle upon the bold abuses of 
 those overweening rabbies ; which he could not more 
 effectually do, than by a countersway of restraint curb- 
 ing their wild exorbitance almost in the other extreme; 
 as when we bow things the contrary way, to make 
 them come to their natural straightness. And that this 
 was the only intention of Christ is most evident, if we 
 attend but to his own words and protestation made in 
 the same sermon, not many verses before he treats of 
 divorcing, that he came not to abrogate from the law 
 " one jot or tittle," and denounces against them that 
 shall so teach. 
 
 But St. Luke, the verse immediately foregoing that 
 of divorce, inserts the same caveat, as if the latter could 
 not be understood without the former ; and as a witness 
 to produce against this our wilful mistake of abrogat- 
 ing, which must needs confirm us, that whatever else 
 in the political law of more special relation to the Jews 
 might cease to us ; yet that of those precepts concern- 
 ing divorce, not one of them was repealed by the doc- 
 trine of Christ, unless we have vowed not to believe 
 his own cautious and immediate profession ; for if these 
 our Saviour's words inveigh against all divorce, and 
 condemn it as adultery, except it be for adultery, and 
 be not rather understood against the abuse of those 
 divorces permitted in the law, then is that law of 
 Moses, Deut. xxiv. 1, not only repealed and wholly 
 annulled against the promise of Christ, and his known 
 profession not to meddle in matters judicial ; but that 
 which is more strange, the very substance and purpose 
 of that law is contradicted, and convinced both of in- 
 justice and impurity, as having authorized and main- 
 tained legal adultery by statute. Moses also cannot 
 scape to be guilty of unequal and unwise decrees 
 punishing one act of secret adultery by death, and per- 
 mitting a whole life of open adultery by law. And 
 
 albeit lawyers write, that some political edicts, though 
 not approved, are yet allowed to the scum of the people, 
 and the necessity of the times ; these excuses have but 
 a weak pulse : for first, we read, not that the scoundrel 
 people, but the choicest, the wisest, the holiest of that 
 nation have frequently used these laws, or such as 
 these, in the best and holiest times. Secondly, be it 
 yielded, that in matters not very bad or impure, a 
 human lawgiver may slacken something of that which 
 is exactly good, to the disposition of the people and 
 the times : but if the perfect, the pure, the righteous 
 law of God, (for so are all his statutes and his judg- 
 ments,) be found to have allowed smoothly, without 
 any certain reprehension, that which Christ afterward 
 declares to be adultery, how can we free this law from 
 the horrible indictment of being both impure, unjust, 
 and fallacious P 
 
 CHAP. ir. 
 
 How divorce waf permitted for hardness of heart, can- 
 not be understood hy the common exposition. That 
 the law cannot permit, much less enact a permission 
 of sin. 
 
 Neither will it serve to say this was permitted for 
 the hardness of their hearts, in that sense as it is usually 
 explained : for the law were then but a corrupt and 
 erroneous schoolmaster, teaching us to dash against a 
 vital maxim of religion, by doing foul evil in hope of 
 some certain good. 
 
 This only text is not to be matched again through- 
 out the whole Scripture, whereby God in bis perfect 
 law should seem to have granted to the hard hearts of 
 bis holy people, under his own hand, a civil immunity 
 and free charter to live and die in a long successive 
 adultery, under a covenant of works, till tl)e Messiah, 
 and then that indulgent permission to be strictly de- 
 nied by a covenant of grace ; besides, the incoherence 
 of such a doctrine cannot, must not be thus interpreted, 
 to the raising of a paradox never known till then, only 
 hanging by the twined thread of one doubtful scrip- 
 ture, against so many otiier rules and leading principles 
 of religion, of justice, and purity of life. For what 
 could be granted more either to the fear, or to the lust 
 of any tyrant or politician, than this authority of Moses 
 thus ex])ounded ; which opens him a way at will to 
 dam up justice, and not only to admit of any Romish 
 or Austrian dispenses, but to enact a statute of that 
 which he dares not seem to approve, even to legitimate 
 vice, to make sin itself, the ever alien and vassal sin, a 
 free citizen of the commonwealth, pretending only 
 these or these plausible reasons .'* And well he might, 
 all the while that Moses shall be alleged to have done 
 as much without shewing any reason at all. Yet this 
 could not enter into the heart of David, Psal. xciv. 20, 
 how any such authority, as endeavours to " fashion 
 wickedness by a law," should derive itself from God. 
 
138 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 And Isaiab says, " Wo upon tlicm that decree unrigh- 
 teous decrees," chap. x. 1. Now which of these two 
 is the better lawgiver, and which deserves most a wo, 
 be that gives out au edict singly unjust, or he that con- 
 firms to generations a fixed and unmolested impunity 
 of that which is not only held to be unjust, but also 
 unclean, and both in a high degree ; not only as they 
 themselves affirm, an injurious expulsion of one wife, 
 but also an unclean freedom by more than a patent to 
 wed another adulterously ? How can we therefore with 
 safety thus dangerously confine the free simplicity of 
 our Saviour's meaning to that which merely amounts 
 from so many letters, whenas it can consist neither 
 with its former and cautionary words, nor with other 
 more pure and holy principles, nor finally with a scope 
 of charity, commanding by his express commission in 
 a higher strain ? But all rather of necessity must be 
 understood as only against the abuse of that wise 
 and ingenuous liberty, which Moses gave, and to 
 terrify a roving 'conscience from sinning under that 
 pretext. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 That to allow sin by law, is against the nature of law, 
 the end of the lawgiver, and the good of the people. 
 Impossible therefore in the law of God. That it 
 makes God the author of sin more than any thing ob- 
 jected by the Jesuits or Arminians against predesti- 
 nation. 
 
 But let us yet further examine upon what considera- 
 tion a law of licence could be thus given to a holy peo- 
 ple for their hardness of heart. I suppose all will 
 answer, that for some good end or other. But here the 
 contrary shall be proved. First, that many ill effects, 
 but no good end of such a sufferance can be shewn ; 
 next, that a thing unlawful can, for no good end what- 
 ever, be either done or allowed by a positive law. If 
 there were any good end aimed at, that end was then 
 good either to the law or to the lawgiver licensing ; or as 
 to the person licensed. That it could not be the end 
 of the law, whether moral or judicial, to license a sin, 
 I prove easily out of Rom. v. 20, " The law entered, 
 that the offence might abound,' that is, that sin might 
 be made abundantly manifest to be heinous and dis- 
 pleasing to God, that so his offered grace might be 
 the more esteemed. Now if the law, instead of aggra- 
 vating and terrifying sin, shall give out licence, it foils 
 itself and turns recreant from its own end : it forestalls 
 the pure grace of Christ, which is through righteous- 
 ness, with impure indulgences, which are through sin. 
 And instead of discovering sin, for " by the law is the 
 knowledge thereof," saith St. Paul ; and that by certain 
 and true light for men to walk in safety, it holds out 
 false and dazzling fires to stumble men; or, like those 
 miserable flies, to run into with delight and be burnt : 
 
 for how many souls might easily think that to be law- 
 ful which the law and magistrate allowed them i* 
 Again, we read, 1 Tim. i. 5, " The end of the com- 
 mandment is charity out of a pure heart, and of a good 
 conscience, and of faith unfeigned." But never could 
 that be charity, to allow a people what they could not 
 use with a pure heart, but with conscience and faith 
 both deceived, or else despised. The more particular 
 end of the judicial law is set forth to us clearly, Rom. 
 xiii. That God hath given to that "law a sword not in 
 vain, but to be a terrour to evil works, a revenge to 
 execute wrath upon him that doth evil." If this terri- 
 ble commission should but forbear to punish wicked- 
 ness, were it other to be accounted than partial and 
 unjust .'* but if it begin to write indulgence to vulgar 
 uncleanness, can it do more to coiTupt and shame the 
 end of its own being ? Lastly, if the law allow sin, it 
 enters into a kind of covenant with sin ; and if it do, 
 there is not a greater sinner in the world than the law 
 itself. The law, to use an allegory something differ- 
 ent from that in Philo-Judteus concerning Amalek, 
 though haply more significant, the law is the Israelite, 
 and hath this absolute charge given it, Deut. xxv. 
 " To blot out the memory of sin, the Amalekite, from un- 
 der heaven, not to forget it." Again, the law is the 
 Israelite, and hath this express repeated command, " to 
 make no covenant with sin, the Canaanite," but to ex- 
 pel him lest he prove a snare. And to say truth, it 
 were too rigid and reasonless to proclaim such an en- 
 mity between man and man, were it not the type of a 
 greater enmity between law and sin. I speak even 
 now, as if sin were condemned in a perpetual villanage 
 never to be free by law, never to be manumitted : but 
 sure sin can have no tenure by law at all, but is rather 
 an eternal outlaw, and in hostility with law past all 
 atonement : both diagonal contraries, as much allowing 
 one another, as day and night together in one hemi- 
 sphere. Or if it be possible, that sin with his darkness 
 may come to composition, it cannot be without a foul 
 eclipse and twilight to the law, whose brightness ought 
 to surpass the noon. Thus we see how this unclean 
 permittance defeats the sacred and glorious end both 
 of the moral and judicial law. 
 
 As little good can the lawgiver propose to equity by 
 such a lavish remissness as this : if to remedy hardness 
 of heart, Paneus and other divines confess it more in- 
 creases by this liberty, than is lessened : and how is it 
 probable, that their hearts were more hard in this, that 
 it should be jielded to, than in any other crime ? Their 
 hearts were set upon usury, and are to this day, no 
 nation more; yet that which was the endamaging 
 only of their estates was narrowly forbid ; this which 
 is thought the extreme injury and dishonour of their 
 wives and daughters, with tlie defilement also of them- 
 selves, is bounteously allowed. Their hearts were as 
 hard under their best kings to oflTer in high places, 
 though to the true God : yet that, but a small thing, it 
 strictly forewarned ; this, accounted a high offence 
 against one of the greatest moral duties, is calmly per- 
 mitted and established. How can it be evaded, but 
 that the heavy censure of Christ should fall worse upon 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 139 
 
 this lawgiver of theirs, than upon all the scribes and 
 Pharisees ? For thej did but omit judgrnent and mercy 
 to trifle in mint and cummin, yet all according to law ; 
 but this their lawgiver, altogether as punctual in such 
 niceties, goes marching on to adulteries, through the 
 violence of divorce by law against law. If it were such 
 a cursed act of Pilate a subordinate judge to Csesar, 
 overswayed by those hard hearts, with much ado to 
 suffer one transgression of law but once, what is it then 
 with less ado to publish a law of transgression for many 
 ages ? Did God for this come down and cover the 
 mount of Sinai with his glory, uttering in thunder those 
 his sacred ordinances out of the bottomless treasures of 
 his wisdom and infinite pureness, to patch up an ulcer- 
 ous and rotten commonwealth with strict and stem in- 
 junctions, to wash the skin and garments for every 
 unclean touch ; and such easy permission given to pol- 
 lute the soul with adulteries by public authority, with- 
 out disgi-ace or question ? No, it had been better that 
 man had never known law or matrimony, than that 
 such foul iniquity should be fastened upon the Holy 
 One of Israel, the Judge of all the earth ; and such a 
 piece of folly as Belzebub would not commit, to divide 
 against himself, and prevent his own ends : or if he, to 
 compass more certain mischief, might yield perhaps to 
 feign some good deed, yet that God should enact a 
 licence of certain evil for uncertain good against his 
 own glory and pureness, is abominable to conceive. 
 And as it is destructive to the end of law, and blasphe- 
 mous to the honour of the lawgiver licensing, so is it 
 as pernicious to the person licensed. If a private friend 
 admonish not, the Scripture saith, " he hates his bro- 
 ther, and lets him perish;" but if he soothe him and 
 allow his faults, the Proverbs teach us " he spreads a 
 net for his neighbour's feet, and worketh ruin." If the 
 magistrate or prince forget to administer due justice, 
 and restrain not sin, Eli himself could say, " it made 
 the Lord's people to transgress." But if he countenance 
 them against law by his own example, what havoc it 
 makes both in religion and virtue among the people 
 may be guessed, by the anger it brought upon Hoph- 
 ni and Phineas not to be appeased " with sacrifice nor 
 offering for ever." If the law be silent to declare sin, 
 the people must needs generally go astray, for the 
 apostle himself saith, " he had not known lust but by 
 the law : " and surely such a nation seems not to be 
 under the illuminating guidance of God's law, but 
 under the horrible doom rather of such as despise the 
 gospel ; " he that is filthy, let him be filthy still." But 
 where the law itself gives a warrant for sin, I know 
 not what condition of misery to imagine miserable 
 enough for such a people, unless that portion of the 
 wicked, or rather of the damned, on whom God threat- 
 ens, in Psal. xi. " to rain snares;" but that questionless 
 cannot be by any law, which the apostle saith is " a 
 ministry ordained of God for our good," and not so 
 many ways and in so high a degree to our destruction, 
 as we have now been graduating. And this is all the 
 good can come to the person licensed in his hardness 
 of heart. 
 
 I am next to mention that, which because it is a 
 
 ground in divinity, Rom. iii. will save the labour of 
 demonstrating, unless her given axioms be more doubt- 
 ed than in other hearts, (although it be no less firm in 
 precepts of philosophy,) that a thing unlawful can for 
 no good whatsoever be done, much less allowed by a 
 positive law. And this is the matter why interpreters 
 upon that passage in Hosea will not consent it to be a 
 true story, that the prophet took a harlot to wife : be- 
 cause God, being a pure spirit, could not command a 
 thing repugnant to his own nature, no not for so good 
 an end as to exhibit more to the life a wholesome and 
 perhaps a converting parable to many an Israelite. 
 Yet that he commanded the allowance of adulterous 
 and injurious divorces for hardness of heart, a reason 
 obscure and in a wrong sense, they can very favour- 
 ably persuade themselves ; so tenacious is the leaven 
 of an old conceit. But they shift it ; he permitted only. 
 Yet silence in the law is consent, and consent is acces- 
 sory : why then is not the law being silent, or not ac- 
 tive against a crime, accessory to its own conviction, 
 itself judging .-* For though we should grant, that it 
 approves not, yet it wills : and the lawyers' maxim is, 
 that " the will compelled is yet the will." And though 
 Aristotle in his ethics calls this " mixed action," yet he 
 concludes it to be voluntary and inexcusable, if it be 
 evil. How justly then might human law and philo- 
 s(tphy rise up against the righteousness of Moses, if 
 this be true which our vulgar divinity fathers upon 
 him, yea upon God himself, not silently, and only 
 negatively to permit, but in his law to divulge a writ- 
 ten and general privilege to commit and persist ia 
 unlawful divorces with a high hand, with security 
 and no ill fame .'' for this is more than permitting 
 and contriving, this is maintaining: this is warrant- 
 ing, this is protecting, yea this is doing evil, and such 
 an evil as that reprobate lawgiver did, whose lasting 
 infamy is engraven upon him like a surname, " he 
 who made Israel to sin." This is the lowest pitch 
 contrary to God that public fraud and injustice can 
 descend. 
 
 If it be affirmed, that God, as being Lord, may do 
 what he will, ye we must know, that God hath not two 
 wills, but one will, much less two contrary. If he once 
 willed adultery should be sinful, and to be punished 
 with death, all his omnipotence will not allow him, to 
 will the allowance that his holiest people might as it 
 were by his own antinomy, or counterstatute, live un- 
 reproved in the same fact as he himself esteemed it, 
 according to our common explainers. The hidden ways 
 of his providence we adore and search not, but the law 
 is his revealed will, his complete, his evident and cer- 
 tain will : herein he appears to us as it were in human 
 shape, enters into covenant with us, swears to keep it, 
 binds himself like a just lawgiver to his own prescrip- 
 tions, gives himself to be understood by men, judges 
 and is judged, measures and is commensurate to right 
 reason ; cannot require less of us in one cantle of his 
 law than in another, his legal justice cannot be so fickle 
 and so variable, sometimes like a devouring fire, and 
 by and by connivent in the embers, or, if I may so say, 
 oscitant and supine. The vigour of his law could no 
 
140 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 more remit, tlian the hallowed fire upon his altar could 
 be let go out. The lamps that burned before him might 
 need snuffing', but tiie light of his law never. Of this 
 also more beneatli, in discussing a solution of Rivetus. 
 The Jesuits, and that sect among us which is named 
 of Arminius, are wont to charge us of making God the 
 author of sin, in two degrees especially, not to speak 
 of his permission: 1. because we hold, that he hath 
 decreed some to damnation, and consequently to sin, 
 say they; next, because those means, which are of 
 saving knowledge to others, he makes to tiiem an oc- 
 casion of greater sin. Yet considering the perfection 
 wherein man was created, and might have stood, no 
 degree necessitating his freewill, but subsequent, 
 though not in time, yet in order to causes, which were 
 in his own power; they might methinks be persuaded 
 to absolve botli God and us. Whenas the doctrine of 
 Plato and Chrysippus, with their followers, the Aca- 
 demics and the Stoics, who knew not what a consum- 
 mate and most adorned Pandora was bestowed upon 
 Adam, to be the nurse and guide of his arbitrary' hap- 
 piness and perseverance, I mean his native innocence 
 and perfection, which might have kept him from being 
 our true Epimetheus ; and though they taught of vir- 
 tue and vice to be both the gift of divine destiny, they 
 could yet give reasons not invalid, to justify the coun- 
 cils of God and fate from the insulsity of mortal 
 tongues : that man's own freewill self-corrupted, is the 
 adequate and sufficient cause of his disobedience be- 
 sides fate ; as Homer also wanted not to express, both 
 in his Iliad and Odyssee. And Manilius the poet, 
 although in his fourth book he tells of some " created 
 both to sin and punishment ;" yet without murmuring, 
 and with an industrious cheerfulness, he acquits the 
 Deity. They were not ignorant in their heathen lore, 
 that it is most godlike to punish those who of his crea- 
 tures became his enemies with the greatest punish- 
 ment; and they could attain also to think, that the 
 greatest, when God himself throws a man furthest from 
 him ; which then they held he did, when he blinded, 
 hardened, and stirred up his offenders, to finish and 
 pile up their desperate work since they had undertaken 
 it. To banish for ever into a local hell, whether in 
 the air or in tlic centre, or in that uttermost and bot- 
 tomless gulf of chaos, deeper from holy bliss than the 
 world's diameter multiplied ; they thought not a pu- 
 nishing so proper and proportionate for God to inflict, 
 as to punish sin with sin. Thus were the common 
 sort of Gentiles wont to think, without any wry 
 thoughts cast upon divine goveniance. And therefore 
 Cicero, not in his Tusculan or Campanian retirements 
 among the learned wits of that age, but even in the 
 senate to a mixed auditory, (though he were sparing 
 otherwise to broach his philosophy among statists and 
 lawyers,) yet as to this point, both in his oration against 
 Piso, and in that which is about the answers of the 
 soothsayers against Clodius, he declares it publicly as 
 no paradox to common ears, that God cannot punish 
 man more, nor make him more miserable, than still by 
 making him more sinful. Thus we see how in this 
 controversy the justice of God stood upright even 
 
 among heathen disputers. But if any one be truly, 
 and not pretendedly zealous for God's honour, here I 
 call him forth before men and angels, to use his best 
 and most advised skill, lest God more unavoidably than 
 ever yet, and in the guiltiest manner, be made the au- 
 thor of sin : if he shall not only deliver over and incite 
 his enemies by rebuke to sin as a punishment, but 
 shall by patent under his own broad seal allow his 
 friends whom he would sanctify and save, whom he 
 would unite to himself and not disjoin, whom he would 
 correct by wholesome chastening, and not punish as 
 he doth the damned by lewd sinning; if he shall allow 
 these in his law, the perfect rule of his own purest will, 
 and our most edified conscience, the perpetrating of an 
 odious and manifold sin without the least contesting. 
 It is wondered how there can be in God a secret and 
 revealed will ; and yet what wonder, if there be in man 
 two answerable causes. But here there must be two 
 revealed wills graj)pling in a fraternal war with one 
 another without any reasonable cause apprehended. 
 This cannot be less, than to ingraft sin into the sub- 
 stance of the law, which law is to provoke sin by cross- 
 ing and forbidding, not by complying with it. Nay 
 this is, which I tremble in uttering, to incarnate sin 
 into the unpunishing and well-pleased will of God. 
 To avoid these dreadful consequences, that tread upon 
 the heels of those allowances to sin, will be a task of 
 far more difficulty, than to appease those minds, which 
 perhaps out of a vigilant and wary conscience except 
 against predestination. Thus finally we may con- 
 clude, that a law wholly giving licence cannot upon 
 any good consideration be given to a holy people, for 
 hardness of heart in the vulgar sense. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 That if divorce be no command, no more is marriage. 
 That divorce could be no dispensation, if it were sin- 
 ful. The solution of Rivetus, that God dispensed by 
 some unknown way, ought not to satisfy a christian 
 mind. 
 
 Others think to evade the matter by not granting 
 any law of divorce, but only a dispensation, which is 
 contrary to the words of Christ, who himself calls it a 
 ' Law,' Mark x. 5 : or if we speak of a command in 
 the strictest definition, then marriage itself is no more 
 a command than divorce, but only a free permission to 
 him who cannot contain. But as to dispensation, I 
 affirm the same as before of the law, that it can never 
 be given to the allowance of sin : God cannot give it, 
 neither in respect of himself, nor in respect of man ; 
 not in respect of himself, being a most pure essence, 
 the just avenger of sin ; neither can he make that 
 cease to be a sin, which is in itself unjust and impure, 
 as all divorces they say were, which were not for adul- 
 tery. Not in respect of man, for then it must be cither 
 to his good, or to his evil. Not to bis good ; for how 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 141 
 
 can that be imag'inctl any g-ood to a sinner, whom no- 
 thing' but rebuke and due correction can save, to hear 
 the determinate oracle of divine law louder than any 
 reproof dispensing- and providing for the impunity and 
 convenience of sin ; to make that doubtful, or rather 
 lawful, which the end of the law was to make most 
 evidently hateful? Nor to the evil of man can a dis- 
 pense be given ; for if " the law were ordained unto 
 life," Rom. vii. 10, how can the same God publish dis- 
 penses against that law, which must needs be unto ; 
 death ? Absurd and monstrous would that dispense be, 
 if any judge or law should give it a man to cut his own 
 throat, or to damn himself. Dispense therefore pre- 
 supposes full pardon, or else it is not a di.spcnse, but a 
 most baneful and bloody snare. And why should God 
 enter covenant with a people to be holy, as " the com- 
 mand is holy, and just, and good," Rom. vii. 12, and 
 yet suffer an impure and treacherous dispense, to mis- 
 lead and betray them under the vizard of law to a le- 
 gitimate practice of uncleanness? God is no covenant- 
 breaker; he cannot do this. 
 
 Rivetus, a diligent and learned writer, having well 
 weighed what hath been written by those founders of 
 dispense, and finding the small agreement among 
 them, would fain work himself aloof these rocks and 
 quicksands, and thinks it best to conclude, that God 
 certainly did dispense, but by some way to us unknown, 
 and so to leave it. But to this I oppose, that a Chris- 
 tian by no means ought to rest himself in such an ig- 
 norance; whereby so many absurdities will straight 
 reflect both against the purity, justice, and wisdom of 
 God, the end also both of law and gospel, and the com- 
 parison of them both together. God indeed in some 
 ways of his providence is high and secret, past finding 
 out : but in the delivery and execution of his law, 
 especially in the managing of a duty so daily and so 
 familiar as this is whereof we reason, hath plain enough 
 i-evealed himself, and requires the observance thereof 
 not otherwise, than to the law of nature and equity 
 imprinted in us seems correspondent. And he hath 
 taught us to love and extol his laws, not only as they 
 are his, but as they are just and good to every wise and 
 sober understanding. Therefore Abraham, even to the 
 face of God himself, seemed to doubt of divine justice, 
 if it should swerve from the irradiation wherewith it 
 had enlightened the mind of man, and bound itself to 
 observe its own rule ; " wilt thou destroy the righteous 
 with the wicked ? that be far from thee; shall not the 
 judge of the earth do right .''" Thereby declaring, that 
 God hath created a righteousness in right itself, against 
 vrhich he cannot do. So David, Psalm cxix. " the tes- 
 timonies which thou hast commanded are righteous 
 and very faithful ; thy word is very pure, therefore thy 
 servant loveth it." Not only then for the author's sake, 
 but for its own purity. ' He is faithful,' saith St. Paul, 
 " he cannot deny himself;" that is, cannot deny his own 
 promises, cannot but be true to his own rules. He often 
 pleads with men the uprightness of his ways by their 
 own principles. How should we imitate him else, to 
 " be perfect as he is perfect .'"' If at pleasure he can 
 dispense with golden poetic ages of such pleasing 
 
 licence, as in the fabled reign of old Saturn, and this 
 perhaps before the law might have some covert ; but 
 under such an undispensing covenant as Moses made 
 with them, and not to tell us why and wherefore, in- 
 dulgence cannot give quiet to the breast of an intelli- 
 gent man? We must be resolved how the law can be 
 pure and perspicuous, and yet throw a polluted skirt 
 over these Eleusinian mysteries, that no man can utter 
 what they mean : worse*in this than the worst obsceni- 
 ties of heathen superstition ; for their filthincss was 
 hid, but the mystic reason thereof known to their sages. 
 But this Jewish imputed filthincss was daily and open, 
 but the reason of it is not known to our divines. We 
 know of no design the gospel can have to impose new 
 righteousness upon works, but to remit the old by faith 
 without works, if we mean justifying works : we know 
 no mystery our Saviour could have to lay new bonds 
 upon marriage in the covenant of grace which himself 
 had loosened to the severity of law. So that Rivetus 
 may pardon us, if we cannot be contented with his 
 nonsolution, to remain in such a peck of uncertainties 
 and doubts, so dangerous and ghastly to the funda- 
 mentals of our faith. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 What a Dispensation is. 
 
 Therefore to get some better satisfaction, we must 
 proceed to inquire as diligently as we can what a dis- 
 pensation is, which I find to be either properly so call- 
 ed, or improperly. Improperly so called, is rather a 
 particular and exceptive law, absolving and disobliging 
 from a more general command for some just and rea- 
 sonable cause. As Numb. ix. they who were unclean, 
 or in a journey, bad leave to keep the passovcr in the 
 second month, but otherwise ever in the first. As for 
 that in Leviticus of marrying the brother's wife, it was 
 a penal statute rather than a dispense ; and commands 
 nothing injurious or in itself unclean, only prefers a 
 special reason of charity before an institutive decency, 
 and perhaps is meant for lifetime only, as is expressed 
 beneath in the prohibition of taking two sisters. What 
 other edict of Moses, carrying but the semblance of a 
 law in any other kind, may bear the name of a dis- 
 pense, I have not readily to instance. But a dispensa- 
 tion most properly is some particular accident rarely 
 happening, and therefore not specified in the law, but 
 left to the decision of charity, even under the bondage 
 of Jewish rites, much more under tlie liberty of the 
 gospel. Thus did " David enter into the house of God 
 and did eat the shewbread,he and his followers, which 
 was" ceremonially " unlawful." Of such dispenses as 
 these it was that Verdune the French divine so gravely 
 disputed in the council of Trent against friar Adrian, 
 who held that the pope might dispense with anything. 
 " It is a fond persuasion," saith Verdune, " that dispens- 
 ing is a favour ; nay, it is as good distiibulivc justice 
 
142 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 as what is most, and the priest sins if he gives it not, 
 for it is nothing- else but a right interpretation of law." 
 Thus fur that I can learn touching this matter whole- 
 somely decreed. But that God, who is the giver of 
 every good and perfect gift. Jam. i. should give out a 
 rule and directory to sin by, should enact a dispensation 
 as longlived as a law, whereby to live in privileged 
 adultery for hardness of heart, (and this obdurate dis- 
 ease cannot be conceived how it was the more amended 
 by this unclean remedy,) is the most deadly and scor- 
 pionlike gift, that the enemy of mankind could have 
 given to any miserable sinner, and is rather such a 
 dispense as that was, which the serpent gave to our first 
 parents. God gave quails in his wrath, and kings in 
 his wrath, yet neither of these things evil in them- 
 selves : but that he whose eyes cannot behold impurity, 
 should in the book of his holy covenant, his most un- 
 passionate law, give licence and statute for uncontrol- 
 led adultery, although it go for the received opinion, I 
 shall ever dissuade my soul from such a creed, such an 
 indulgence as the shop of Antichrist never forged a 
 baser. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 That the Jew had no more right to this supposed dis- 
 pense than the Christian hath, and rather not so 
 much. 
 
 But if we must needs dispense, let us for a while so 
 far dispense with truth, as to grant that sin may be 
 dispensed ; yet there will be copious reason found to 
 prove, that the Jew had no more right to such a sup- 
 posed indulgence than the Christian ; whether we look 
 at the clear knowledge wherein he lived, or the strict 
 performance of works whereto he was bound. Besides 
 visions and prophecies, they had the law of God, 
 which in the Psalms and Proverbs is chiefly praised 
 for sureness and certainty, both easy and perfect to the 
 enlightening of the simple. How could it be so ob- 
 scure then, or they so sottishly blind in this plain, 
 moral, and household duty ? They had the same pre- 
 cepts about marriage ; Christ added nothing to their 
 clearness, for that had argued them imperfect ; he 
 opens not the law, but removes the pharisaic mists 
 raised between the law and the people's eyes : the 
 only sentence which he adds, "What God hath joined 
 let no man put asunder," is as obscure as any clause 
 fetched out of Genesis, and hath increased a yet unde- 
 cided controversy of clandestine marriages. If we 
 examine over all his sayings, we shall find him not so 
 much interpreting the law with his words, as referring 
 his own words to be interpreted by the law, and oftener 
 obscures his mind in short, and vehement, and com- 
 pact sentences, to blind and puzzle them the more, 
 who would not understand the law. The Jews there- 
 fore were as little to be dispensed with for lack of 
 moral knowledge as wc. 
 
 Next, none I think will deny, but that they were as 
 much bound to perform tlie law as any Christian. 
 That severe and rigorous knife not sparing the tender 
 foreskin of any male infant, to carve upon his flesh the 
 mark of that strict and pure covenant whereinto he en- 
 tered, might give us to understand enough against the 
 fancy of dispensing. St. Paul testifies, that every 
 " circumcised man is a debtor to the whole law," Gal. 
 V. or else " circumcision is in vain," Rom. ii. 25. How 
 vain then, and how preposterous must it needs be to 
 exact a circumcision of the flesh from an infant into an 
 outward sign of purity, and to dispense an uncircum- 
 cision in the soul of a grown man to an inward and 
 real impurity ! How vain again was that law, to im- 
 pose tedious expiations for every slight sin of igno- 
 rance and errour, and to privilege without penance or 
 disturbance an odious crime whether of ignorance or 
 obstinacy ! How unjust also inflicting death and 
 extirpation for the mark of circumstantial pureness 
 omitted, and proclaiming all honest and liberal in- 
 demnity to the act of a substantial impureness com- 
 mitted, making void the covenant that was made 
 against it! Thus if we consider the tenour of the 
 law, to be circumcised and to perform all, not pardon- 
 ing so much as the scapes of errour and ignorance, and 
 compare this with the condition of the gospel," believe 
 and be baptized," I suppose it cannot be long ere we 
 grant, that the Jew was bound as strictly to the per- 
 formance of every duty, as was possible ; and therefore 
 could not be dispensed with more than the Christian, 
 perhaps not so much. 
 
 CHAP. vn. 
 
 That the Gospel is apter to dispense than the Law. 
 Parous answered. 
 
 If then the law will afl'ord no reason, why the Jew 
 should be more gently dealt with than the Christian, 
 then surely the gospel can afford as little, why the 
 Christian should be less gently dealt with than the 
 Jew. The gospel indeed exhorts to highest perfec- 
 tion, but bears with weakest infirmity more than the 
 law. Hence those indulgences, " all cannot receive 
 this saying, every man hath his proper gift," with ex- 
 press charges not " to lay on yokes, which our fathers 
 could not bear." The nature of man still is as weak» 
 and yet as hard ; and that weakness and hardness as 
 unfit and as unteachable to be harshly used as ever. 
 Ay but, saith Paraeus, there is a greater portion of spi 
 rit poured upon the gospel, which requires from us per 
 fecter obedience. I answer, this does not prove, that 
 the law might give allowance to sin more than the 
 gospel ; and if it were no sin, we know it were the 
 work of the spirit to " mortify our corrupt desires and 
 evil concupiscence ;" but not to root up our natural af- 
 fections and disaffections, moving to and fro even in 
 wisest men upon just and necessary reasons, which 
 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 143 
 
 were the true ground of that Mosaic dispense, and is 
 the utmost extent of our pleading-. What is more or 
 less perfect we dispute not, but what is sin or no sin. 
 And in that I still affirm the law required as perfect 
 obedience as the gospel : besides that the prime end of 
 the gospel is not so much to exact our obedience, as to 
 reveal grace, and the satisfaction of our disobedience. 
 What is now exacted from us, it is the accusing law 
 that does it, even yet under the gospel ; but cannot be 
 more extreme to us now than to the Jews of old ; for 
 the law ever was of works, and the gospel ever was of 
 grace. 
 
 Either then the law by harmless and needful dis- 
 penses, which the gospel is now made to deny, must 
 have anticipated and exceeded the grace of the gos- 
 pel, or else must be found to have given politic and su- 
 perficial graces without real pardon, saying in general, 
 " do this and live," and yet deceiving and damning 
 underhand with unsound and hollow permissions; 
 which is utterly abhorring from the end of all law, as 
 hath been shewed. But if those indulgences wei-e safe 
 and sinless, out of tenderness and compassion, as in- 
 deed they were, and yet shall be abrogated by the gos- 
 pel ; then the law, whose end is by rigour to magnify 
 grace, shall itself give grace, and pluck a fair plume 
 from the gospel ; instead of hastening us thither, al- 
 luring us from it. And whereas the terrour of the law 
 was a servant to amplify and illustrate the mildness of 
 grace; now the unmildness of evangelic grace shall 
 turn servant to declare the grace and mildness of the 
 rigorous law. Tiie law was harsh to extol the g^ace 
 of the gospel, and now the gospel by a new affected 
 strictness of her own shall extenuate the grace which 
 herself offers. For by exacting a duty which the law 
 dispensed, if we perform it, tiien is grace diminished, 
 by how much performance advance, unless the apostle 
 argue wrong : if we perform it not, and perish for not 
 performing, then are the conditions of grace harder than 
 those of rigour. If through faith and repentance we 
 perish not, yet grace still remains the less, by requiring 
 that which rigour did not require, or at least not so 
 strictly. TIjus much therefore to Pareeus ; that if tiie 
 gospel require perfecter obedience than the law as a 
 duty, it exalts the law and debases itself, which is 
 dishonourable to the work of our redemption. See- 
 ing therefore that all the causes of any allowance, that 
 the Jews might have, remain as well to the Christians; 
 this is a certain rule, that so long as the causes remain, 
 the allowance ought. And having thus at length in- 
 quired the truth concerning law and dispense, their 
 ends, their uses, their limits, and in what manner both 
 Jew and Christian stand liable to the one or capable of 
 the other; we may safely conclude, that to affirm the 
 giving of any law or law-like dispense to sin for hard- 
 ness of heart, is a doctrine of that extravagance from 
 the sage principles of piety, that whoso considers tho- 
 roughly cannot but admire how this hath been digest- 
 ed all this while. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 The trite sense how Moses suffered divorce/or hard- 
 ness of heart. 
 
 What may we do then to salve this seeming incon- 
 sistence.'* I must not disseii ble, that I am confident it 
 can be done no other way than this : 
 
 Moses, Deut. xxiv. 1, established a grave and pru- 
 dent law, full of moral equity, full of due consideration 
 towards nature, that cannot be resisted, a law consent- 
 ing with the wisest men and civilest nations; that 
 when a man hath married a wife, if it come to pass, 
 that he cannot love her by reason of some displeasing 
 natural quality or unfitness in her, let him write her a 
 bill of divorce. The intent of which law undoubtedly 
 was this, that if any good and peaceable man should 
 discover some helpless disagreement or dislike either of 
 mind or body, whereby he could not cheerfully perform 
 the duty of a husband without the perpetual dissem- 
 bling of offence and disturbance to his spirit ; rather 
 than to live uncomfortably and unhappily both to him- 
 self and to his wife ; rather than to continue undertak- 
 ing a duty, which he could not possibly discharge, he 
 might dismiss her whom he could not tolerably and so 
 not conscionably retain. And this law the Spirit of 
 God by the mouth of Solomon, Prov. xxx. 21, 23, tes- 
 tifies to be a good and a necessary law, by granting it 
 that " a hated woman," (for so the Hebrew word signi- 
 fies, rather than "odious," though it come all to one,) 
 that " a hated woman, when she is man-ied, is a thing 
 that the earth cannot bear." What follows then, but 
 that the charitable law must remedy what nature can- 
 not undergo .•* Now that many licentious and hard- 
 hearted men took hold of this law to cloke their bad 
 purposes, is nothing strange to believe. And these 
 were they, not for whom Moses made the law, (God 
 forbid!) but whose hardness of heart taking ill-ad- 
 vantage by this law he held it better to suffer as by 
 accident, where it could not be detected, rather than 
 good men should lose their just and lawful privilege of 
 remedy ; Christ therefore having to answer these 
 tempting Pharisees, according as his custom was, not 
 meaning to inform their proud ignorance what Moses 
 did in the true intent of the law, which they had ill 
 cited, suppressing the true cause for which Moses gave 
 it, and extending it to every slight matter, tells them 
 their own, what Moses was forced to suffer by their 
 abuse of his law. Which is yet more plain, if we 
 mark that our Saviour, in Matt. v. cites not the law of 
 Moses, but the pharisaical tradition falsely grounded 
 upon that law. And in those other places, chap, xix, 
 and Mark x. the Pharisees cite the law, but conceal the 
 wise and humane reason there expressed ; which our 
 Saviour corrects not in them, whose pride deserved not 
 his instruction, only returns them what is proper to 
 them : " Moses for the hardness of your heart suffered 
 you," that is, such as you, " to put away your wives ; 
 and to you he wrote this precept for that cause," which 
 (" to you ") must be read with an impression, and uu- 
 
144 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 derstood limitedly of such as covered ill purposes under 
 that law ; for it was seasonable, that they should hear 
 their o>%'n unbounded licence rebuked, but not season- 
 able for them to bear a good man's requisite liberty 
 explained. But us he hath taught better, if we have 
 ears to hear. He himself acknowledged it to be a law, 
 Mark x. and being a law of God, it must have an un- 
 doubted " end of charity, which may be used with a 
 pure heart, a good conscience, and faith unfeigned," as 
 was heard : it cannot allow sin, but is purposely to resist 
 sin, as by the same chapter to Timothy appears. There 
 we learn also, " that the law is good, if a man use it 
 lawfully." Out of doubt then there must be a certain 
 good in this law, which Moses willingly allowed, 
 and there might be an unlawful use made thereof by 
 hypocrites ; and that was it which was unwillingly 
 suffered, foreseeing it in general, but not able to dis- 
 cern it in particulars. Christ therefore mentions not 
 here what Moses and the law intended ; for good men 
 might know that by many other rules ; and the scorn- 
 ful Pharisees were not. fit to be told, until they could 
 employ that knowledge they had less abusively. Only 
 he acquaints them with what Moses by them was put 
 to suffer. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 The Words of the institution how to be widerstood ; 
 and of onr Saviour^ s Answer to his Disciples. 
 
 And to entertain a little their overweening arrogance 
 as best befitted, and to amaze them yet further, because 
 they thought it no hard matter to fulfil the law, he 
 draws them up to that unseparable institution, which 
 God ordained in the beginning before the fall, when 
 man and woman were both perfect, and could have no 
 cause to separate : just as in the same chapter he stands 
 not to contend with the arrogant young man, who 
 boasted his observance of the whole law, whether he 
 had indeed kept it or not, but screws him up higher to 
 a task of that perfection, which no man is bound to 
 imitate. And in like manner, that pattern of the first 
 institution he set before the opinionative Pharisees, to 
 dazzle them, and not to bind us. For this is a solid 
 rule, that every command, g"iven with a reason, binds 
 our obedience no otherwise than that reason holds. 
 Of this sort was that command in Eden ; " therefore 
 shall a man cleave to his wife, and they shall be one 
 flesh ;" which we see is no absolute command, but 
 with an inference "therefore :" the reason then must be 
 first considered, that our obedience be not misobediencc. 
 The first is, for it is not single, because the wife is to 
 the husband, " flesh of his flesh," as in the verse going 
 before. But this reason cannot be suflicicnt of itself : 
 for why then should he for his wife leave his father 
 and mother, with whom he is far more " flesh of flesh, 
 and bone of bone," as being made of their substance .'' 
 and besides, it can be but a sorry and ignoble society 
 of life, whose inseparable injunction depends merely 
 
 upon flesh and bones. Therefore we must look higher, 
 since Christ himself recalls us to the beginning, and 
 we shall find, that the primitive reason of never divorc- 
 ing was that sacred and not vain promise of God to 
 remedy man's loneliness by " making him a meet help 
 for him," tliough not now in perfection, as at first ; 
 yet still in proportion as things now are. And this is 
 repeated, verse 20, when all other creatures were fitly 
 associated and brought to Adam, as if the Divine Power 
 had been in some care and deep thought, because " there 
 was not yet found any help meet for man." And can 
 we so slightly depress the all-wise purpose of a delibe- 
 rating God, as if his consultation had produced no 
 other good for man, but to join him with an accidental 
 companion of propagation, which his sudden word had 
 already made for every beast? nay a far less good to man 
 it will be found, if she must at all adventures be fast- 
 ened upon him individually. And therefore even plain 
 sense and equity, and, which is above them both, the 
 all-interpreting voice of charity herself cries aloud, 
 that this primitive reason, this consulted promise of 
 God, " to make a meet help," is the only cause that 
 gives authority to this command of not divorcing, to 
 be a command. And it might be further added, that 
 if the true definition of a wife were asked at good 
 earnest, this clause of being" a meet help" would shew 
 itself so necessary and so essential, in that demonstra- 
 tive argument, that it might be logically concluded : 
 therefore she who naturally and perpetually is no " meet 
 help," can be no wife ; which clearly takes away the 
 difficulty of dismissing such a one. If this be not 
 thought enough, I answer yet further, that marriage, 
 unless it mean a fit and tolerable marriage, is not inse- 
 parable neither by nature nor institution. Not by na- 
 ture, for then Mosaic divorces had been against nature, 
 if separable and inseparable be contraries, as who doubts 
 they be ? and what is against nature is against law, 
 if soundest philosophy abuse us not : by this reckoning 
 Moses should be most unmosaic, that is, most illegal, 
 not to say most unnatural. Nor is it inseparable by 
 the first institution ; for then no second institution of 
 the same law for so many causes could dissolve it ; it 
 being most unworthy a human, (as Plato's judgment 
 is in the fourth book of his laws,) much more a divine 
 lawgiver, to write two several decrees upon the same 
 thing. But what would Plato have deemed, if one of 
 these were good, and the other evil to be done ? Lastly, 
 suppose it to be inseparable by institution, yet in com- 
 petition with higher things, as religion and charity in 
 mainest matters, and when the chief end is frustrate 
 for which it was ordained, as hath been shewn; if still 
 it must remain inseparable, it holds a strange and law- 
 less propriety from all other works of God under heaven. 
 From these many considerations, we may safely gather, 
 tiiat so much of the first institution as our Saviour men- 
 tions, for he mentions not all, was but to quell and put 
 to nonplus the tempting Pharisees, and to lay open 
 their ignorance and shallow understanding of the Scrip- 
 tures. For, saith he, " have ye not read that he which 
 made them at the beginning, made them male and fe- 
 male, and said, for this cause shall a man cleave to hi* 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 145 
 
 wife ? " which these blind usuq)ers of Moses's chair 
 could not gainsay : as if this single respect of male 
 and female were sufficient against a thousand inconve- 
 niences and mischiefs, to clog a rational creature to his 
 endless sorrow unrelinquishably, under the guileful 
 superscription of his intended solace and comfort. What 
 if they had thus answered ? Master, if thou mean to 
 make wedlock as inseparable as it was from the begin- 
 ning, let it be made also a fit society, as God meant it, 
 which we shall soon undei*stand it ought to be, if thou 
 recite the whole reason of the law. Doubtless our 
 Saviour had applauded their just answer. For then 
 they had expounded his command of Paradise, even 
 as Moses himself expounds it by the laws of divorce, 
 that is, with due and wise regard to the premises and 
 reasons of the first command ; according to w hich, 
 without unclean and temporizing permissions, he in- 
 structs us in this imperfect state what we may lawfully 
 do about divorce. 
 
 But if it be thought, that the disciples, offrndod at 
 the rigour of Christ's answer, could yet obtain no miti- 
 gation of the former sentence pronounced to the Pha- 
 risees, it may be fully answered, that our Saviour con- 
 tinues the same reply to his disciples, as men leavened 
 with the same customary licence which the Pharisees 
 maintained, and displeased at the removing of a tra- 
 ditional abuse, whereto they had so long not unwill- 
 ingly been used : it was no time then to contend with 
 their slow and prejudicial belief, in a thing wherein an 
 ordinary measure of light in Scripture, with some at- 
 tention, might afterwards inform them well enough. 
 And yet ere Christ had finished this argument, they 
 might have picked out of his own concluding words an 
 answer more to their minds, and in effect the same with 
 that which hath been all this while intreating audience : 
 " All men," saith he, " cannot receive this saying, save 
 they to whom it is givoi ; he that is able to receive it, 
 let him receive it." What saying is this which is left 
 to a man's choice to receive, or not receive .'* what but 
 the married life ? Was our Saviour so mild and so fa- 
 vourable to the weakness of a single man, and is he 
 turned on the sudden so rigorous and inexorable, to 
 the distresses and extremities of an ill-wedded man ? 
 Did he so graciously give leave to change the better 
 single life for the worse married life? Did he open so 
 to us this hazardous and accidental door of marriage, 
 to shut upon us like the gate of death, without retract- 
 ing or returning, without permitting to change the 
 worst, most insupportable, most unchristian mischance 
 of marriage, for all the mischiefs and sorrows that can 
 ensue, being an ordinance w hich was especially given 
 as a cordial and exhilarating cup of solace, the better 
 to bear our other crosses and afflictions ? Questionless 
 this was a hard-heartedness of divorcing, worse than 
 jbat in the Jews, which they say extorted the allow- 
 ance from Moses, and is utterly dissonant from all the 
 doctrine of our Saviour. After these considerations 
 therefore, to take a law out of Paradise given in time 
 of original perfection, and to take it barely without 
 those just and equal inferences and reasons which 
 mainly establish it, nor so much as admitting those 
 
 needful and safe allowances, wherewith Moses himself 
 interprets it to the fallen condition of man ; argues no- 
 thing in us but rashness and contempt of those means 
 that God left us in his pure and chaste law, without 
 which it will not be possible for us to perform the strict 
 imposition of this command : or if we strive beyond 
 our strength, we shall strive to obey it otherwise than 
 God commands it. And lamented experience daily 
 teaches the bitter and vain fruits of this our presump- 
 tion, forcing men in a thing wherein we are not able 
 to judge either of their strength or their sufferance. 
 Whom neither one voice nor other by natural addic- 
 tion, but only marriage ruins, which doubtless is not 
 the fault of that ordinance, for God gave it as a bless- 
 ing, nor always of man's mischoosing, it being an er- 
 rour above wisdom to prevent, as examples of wisest 
 men so mistaken manifest : it is the fault therefore of a 
 perverse opinion, that will have it continued in despite 
 of nature and reason, when indeed it was never so 
 truly joined. All those expositors upon the fifth Mat- 
 thew confess the law of Moses to be the law of the 
 Lord, wherein no addition or diminution hath place ; 
 yet coming to the point of divorce, as if they feared 
 not to be called least in the kingdom of heaven, any 
 slight evasion will content them, to reconcile those 
 contradictions, which they make between Christ and 
 Moses, between Christ and Christ. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 The vain shift of those who make the law of divorce to 
 he only the premises of a succeeding law. 
 
 Some will have it no law, but the granted premises 
 of another law following, contrary to the words of 
 Christ, Mark x. 5, and all other translations of gravest 
 authority, who render it in form of a law, agreeably to 
 Mai. ii. 16, as it is most anciently and modernly ex- 
 pounded. Besides, the bill of divorce, and the par- 
 ticular occasion therein mentioned, declares it to be 
 orderly and legal. And what avails this to make the 
 matter more righteous, if such an adulterous condition 
 shall be mentioned to build a law upon without either 
 punishment or so much as forbidding ? They pretend 
 it is implicitly reproved in these words, Deut. xxiv. 4, 
 " after she is defiled ; " but who sees not that this defile- 
 ment is only in respect of returning to her former hus- 
 band after an intermixed marriage ? else why was not 
 the defiling condition first forbidden, which would have 
 saved the labour of this after-law ? Nor is it seemly or 
 piously attributed to thp justice of God and his known 
 hatred of sin, that such a heinous fault as this through 
 all the law should be only wiped with an implicit 
 and oblique touch, (which yet is falsely supposed,) 
 and that his peculiar people should be let wallow in 
 adulterous marriages almost two thousand years, for 
 want of a direct law to prohibit them : it is rather to 
 be confidently assumed, that this was granted to appa- 
 
146 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 rent necessities, as being of unquestionable right and 
 reason in the law of nature, in that it still passes with- 
 out inhibition, even when the greatest cause is given 
 to us to expect it should be directly forbidden. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 TJie other shi/i of saying divorce was permitted by law, 
 but not approved. More of the institution. 
 
 But it was not approved. So much the worse that 
 it was allowed ; as if sin had over-mastered the word 
 of God, to conform her steady and straight rule to sin's 
 crookedness, which is impossible. Besides, what need- 
 ed a positive grant of that which was not approved ? It 
 restrained no liberty to him that could but use a little 
 fraud ; it had been better silenced, unless it were ap- 
 proved in some case or other. But still it was not ap- 
 proved. Miserable excusers! he who doth evil, that 
 good may come thereby, approves not what he doth ; 
 and yet the grand rule forbids him, and counts his 
 damnation just if he do it. The sorceress Medea did 
 not approve her own evil doings, jet looked not to be 
 excused for that : and it is the constant opinion of Plato 
 in Protagoras, and other of his dialogues, agreeing 
 with tliat proverbial sentence among the Greeks, that 
 " no man is w ickcd willingly." Which also the Peri- 
 patetics do rather distinguish than deny. What great 
 thank then if any man, reputed wise and constant, will 
 neither do, nor permit others under his charge to do, 
 that which he approves not, especially in matter of sin ? 
 but for a judge, but for a magistrate the shepherd of 
 his people, to surrender up his approbation against law, 
 and his own judgment, to the obstinacy of his herd; 
 what more unjudgelike, unmagistratelike, and in war 
 more uncommanderlike ? Twice in a short time it was 
 the undoing of the Roman state, first when Pompey> 
 next when Marcus Brutus, had not magnanimity 
 enough but to make so poor a resignation of what they 
 approved, to what the boisterous tribunes and soldiers 
 bawled for. Twice it was the saving of two of the 
 greatest commonwealths in the world, of Athens by 
 Themistocles at the seafight of Salamis, of Rome by 
 Fabius Maximus in the Punic war; for that these two 
 matchless generals had the fortitude at home against 
 the rashness and the clamours of their own captains 
 and confederates, to w ithstand the doing or permitting 
 of what they could not approve in their duty of their 
 great command. Thus far of civil prudence. But 
 when we speak of sin, let us look again upon the old 
 reverend Eli ; who in his heavy punishment found no 
 difference between the doing and permitting of what 
 be did not approve. If hardness of heart in the people 
 may be an excuse, why then is Pilate branded throu;>h 
 all memory .■* He approved not what he did, he openly 
 protested, he washed his hands, and laboured not a lit- 
 tle ere he would yield to the hard hearts of a whole 
 people, both princes and piebians, importuning and 
 
 tumulling even to the fear of a revolt. Yet is there 
 any will undertake his cause .•* If therefore Pilate for 
 suffering but one act of cruelty against law, though 
 with much unwillingness testified, at the violent de- 
 mand of a whole nation, shall stand so black upon re- 
 cord to all posterity ; alas for Moses ! what shall we 
 say for him, while we are taught to believe he suffered 
 not one act only both of cruelty and uncleauliness in 
 one divorce, but made it a plain and lasting law against 
 law, whereby ten thousand acts accounted both cruel 
 and unclean might be daily committed, and this with- 
 out the least suit or petition of the people, that we can 
 read of .'' 
 
 And can we conceive without vile thoughts, that the 
 majesty and holiness of God could endure so many 
 ages to gratify a stubborn people in the practice of a 
 foul polluting sin .'' and could he expect they should 
 abstain, he not signifying his mind in a plain command, 
 at such time especially when he was framing their laws 
 and them to all possible perfection .'' But they were to 
 look back to the first institution ; nay rather why was 
 not that individual institution brought out of Paradise, 
 as was that of the sabbath, and repeated in the body 
 of the law, that men might have understood it to be a 
 command ? For that any sentence that bears the re- 
 semblance of a precept, set there so out of place in an- 
 other world, at such a distance from the whole law, 
 and not once mentioned there, should be an obligfing 
 command to us, is very disputable ; and perhaps it 
 might be denied to be a command without further dis- 
 pute : however, it commands not absolutely, as hath 
 been cleared, but only with reference to that precedent 
 promise of God, which is the very ground of his insti- 
 tution : if that appear not in some tolerable sort, how 
 can we affirm such a matrimony to be the same which 
 God instituted ? in such an accident it will best be- 
 hoove our soberness to follow rather what moral Sinai 
 prescribes equal to our strength, than fondly to think 
 within our strength all that lost Paradise relates. 
 
 CHAP. XU. 
 
 The third shift of them who esteem it a mere judicial 
 law. Proved again to be a law of moral equity. 
 
 Another while it shall suffice them, that it was not 
 a moral but a judicial law, and so was abrogated : nay 
 rather not abrogated because judicial ; which law the 
 ministry of Christ came not to deal with. And who 
 put it in man's power to exempt, where Christ speaks 
 in general of not abrogating " the least jot or tittle," 
 and in special not that of divorce, because it follows 
 among those laws which he promised expressly not to 
 abrogate, but to vindicate from abusive traditions .' 
 which is most evidently to be seen in the 16th of Luke, 
 where this caution of not abrogating is inserted imme- 
 diately, and not otherwise than purposely, when no 
 other point of the law is touched but that of divorce. 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 117 
 
 And if we mark the 31st verse of Matt. v. he there cites 
 not the law of Moses, but the licentious gloss which 
 traduced the law ; that therefore which he cited, that 
 be abrogated, and not only abrogated, but disallowed 
 and flatly condemned ; which could not be the law of 
 Moses, for that had been foully to the rebuke of his 
 great servant. To abrogate a law made with God's 
 allowance, had been to tell us only that such a law 
 was now to cease : but to refute it with an ignominious 
 note of civilizing adultery, casts the reproof, which 
 was meant only to the Pharisees, even upon him that 
 made the law. But yet if that be judicial, which be- 
 longs to a civil court, this law is less judicial than nine 
 of the ten commandments: for antiquaries affirm, that 
 divorces proceeded among the Jews without knowledge 
 of the magistrate, only with hands and seals under the 
 testimony of some rabbies to be then present. Per- 
 kins, in a " Treatise of Conscience," grants, that what 
 in the judicial law is of common equity binds also the 
 Christian : and how to judge of this, prescribes two 
 ways : if wise nations have enacted the like decree ; 
 or if it maintain the good of a family, church, or com- 
 monwealth. This therefore is a pure moral oecouomi- 
 cal law, too hastily imputed of tolerating sin ; being 
 rather so clear in nature and reason, that it was left to 
 a man's own arbitrement to be determined between 
 God and his own conscience ; not only among the 
 Jews, but in every wise nation : the restraint whereof, 
 who is not too thick-sighted, may see how hurtful and 
 distractive it is to the house, the church, and common- 
 wealth. And that power which Christ never took 
 from the master of a family, but rectified only to a right 
 and wary use at home ; that power the uudisceming 
 canonist hath improperly usuqjcd iu his court-Ieet, 
 and bcscribbled with a thousand trifling impertinences, 
 which yet have filled the life of man with serious 
 trouble and calamity. Yet grant it were of old a ju- 
 dicial law, it need not be the less moral for that, being 
 conversant as it is about virtue or vice. And our Sa- 
 viour disputes not here the judicature, for that was not 
 his office, but the morality of divorce, whether it be 
 adultery or no ; if therefore he touch the law of Moses 
 at all, he touches the moral part thereof, which is ab- 
 surd to imagine, that the covenant of grace should 
 reform the exact and perfect law of works, eternal and 
 immutable; or if he touch not the law at all, then is 
 not the allowance thereof disallowed to us. 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 The ridiculous opinion, that divorce was permitted 
 from the custom in Egypt. That Moses gave not 
 this law ttnwillingly . Perkins confesses this law 
 was not abrogated. 
 
 Others are so ridiculous as to allege, that this li- 
 cence of divorcing was given them because they were 
 so accustomed in Egypt. As if an ill custom were to 
 
 L 
 
 be kept to all posterity ; for the dispensation is both 
 universal and of lime unlimited, and so indeed no dis- 
 pensation at all : for the overdated dispensation of a 
 thing unlawful, serves for notliing but to increase hard- 
 ness of heart, and makes men but wa.\ more incorrigi- 
 ble ; which were a great reproach to be said of any 
 law or allowance that God should give us. In these 
 opinions it would be more religion to advise well, lest 
 we make ourselves juster than God, by censuring 
 rashly that for sin, which his unspotted law without 
 rebuke allows, and his people without being conscious 
 of displeasing him have used : and if we can think so 
 of Moses, as that the Jewish obstinacy could compel 
 him to write such impure permissions against the word 
 of God and his own judgment ; doubtless it was his 
 part to have protested publicly what straits he was 
 driven to, and to have declared his conscience, when 
 he gave any law against his mind : for the law is the 
 touchstone of sin and of conscience, and must not be 
 intermixed with corrupt indulgences ; for then it loses 
 the greatest praise it has of being certain, and infalli- 
 ble, not leading into errour as the Jews were led by 
 this connivance of Moses, if it were a connivance. 
 But still they fly back to the primitive institution, and 
 would have us re-enter Paradise against the sword that 
 guards it. Whom I again thus reply to, that the place 
 in Genesis contains the description of a fit and perfect 
 marriage, with an interdict of ever divorcing such a 
 union : but where nature is discovered to have never 
 joined indeed, but vehemently seeks to part, it cannot 
 be there conceived that God forbids it ; nay, he com- 
 mands it both in the law and in the prophet Malachi, 
 which is to be our rule. And Perkins upon this chap- 
 ter of Matthew deals plainly, that our Saviour here 
 confutes not Moses's law, but the false glosses that de- 
 praved the law ; which being true, Perkins must needs 
 grant, that something then is left to that law which 
 Christ found no fault with ; and what can that be but 
 the conscionable use of such liberty, as the plain words 
 import? so that by his own inference, Christ did not 
 absolutely intend to restrain all divorces to the only 
 cause of adultery. This therefore is the true scope of 
 our Saviour's will, that he who looks upon the law 
 conceniing divorce, should also look back upon the 
 institution, that he may endeavour what is perfectest : 
 and he that looks upon the institution shall not refuse 
 as sinful and unlawful those allowances, which God 
 affords him in his following law, lest he make himself 
 purer than his Maker, and presuming above strength, 
 slip into temptations irrecoverably. For this is won- 
 derful, that in all those decrees concerning marriage, 
 God should never once mention the prime institution 
 to dissuade them from divorcing, and that he should 
 forbid smaller sins as opposite to the hardness of their 
 hearts, and let this adulterous matter of divorce pass 
 ever unreproved. 
 
 This is also to be marvelled, that seeing Christ did 
 not condemn whatever it was that Moses suffered, and 
 that thereupon the christian magistrate permits usury 
 and open stews, and here with us adultery to be so 
 slightly punished, which was punished by death to 
 
I4d 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 these Iiard-hcarted Jews ; why we should strain thus 
 at the matter of divorce, which may stand so much 
 with charity to permit, and make no scruple to allow 
 usury esteemed to be so much against charity ? But 
 this it is to embroil ourselves against the righteous and 
 all-wise jud-^-ments and statutes of God ; which are 
 not variable and contrarious as we would make tlieni, 
 one while permitting, and another while forbidding, but 
 are most constant and most harmonious each to other. 
 J'or how can the uncorrupt and majestic law of God, 
 bearing in her hand the wages of life and death, har- 
 bour such a repugnance witliin herself, as to require an 
 unexenipted and impartial obedience to all her decrees, 
 either from us or from our Mediator, and yet debase 
 herself to faulter so many ages with circumcised adul- 
 teries by unclean and slubbering permissions ? 
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 That Beza's opinion of regulating sin by apostolic law 
 cannot be found. 
 
 Yet Beza's opinion is, that a politic law (but what 
 politic law I know not, unless one of Machiavcl's) 
 may regulate sin ; may bear indeed, I grant, with im- 
 perfection for a time, as those canons of the apostles 
 did in ceremonial things : but as for sin, the essence of 
 it cannot consist with rule ; and if the law fail to regu- 
 late sin, and not to take it utterly away, it necessarily 
 confirms and establishes sin. To make a regularity of 
 sin by law, either the law must straighten sin into no 
 siu, or sin must crook the law into no law. The judi- 
 cial law can serve to no other end than to be the pro- 
 tector and champion of religion and honest civility, as 
 is set down plainly, Rom. xiii. and is but the arm of 
 moral law, which can no more be separate from justice, 
 than justice from virtue. Their office also, in a dif- 
 ferent manner, steers the same course ; the one teaches 
 what is good by precept, the other unteaches what is 
 bad by punishment. But if we give way to politic 
 dispensations of lewd uncleanness, the first good con- 
 sequence of such a relax will be the justifying of papal 
 stews, joined with a toleration of epidemic w boredom. 
 Justice must revolt from the end of her authority, and 
 become the patron of that whereof she was created the 
 punisher. The example of usury, which is commonly 
 alleged, makes against the allegation which it brings, as 
 I touched before. Besides that usury, so much as is per- 
 mitted by the magistrate, and demanded with common 
 equity, is neither against the word of God, nor the rule 
 of charity ; as hath been often discussed by men of 
 eminent learning and judgment. There must be there- 
 fore some other example found out to shew us wherein 
 civil policy may with warrant from God settle wicked- 
 ness by law, and make that lawful which is lawless. 
 Although I doubt not but, upon deeper consideration, 
 that which is true in physic will be found as true in 
 
 policy, that as of bad pulses those that beat most in 
 order, are much worse than those that keep tbe most 
 inordinate circuit; so of popular vices those that may 
 be committed legally will be more pernicious, than 
 those tliat are left to their own course at peril, not under 
 a stinted privilege to sin orderly and regularly, which 
 is an implicit contradiction, but under due and fearless 
 execution of punishment. 
 
 The political law, since it cannot regulate vice, is io 
 restrain it by using all means to root it out. But if it 
 sufter the weed to grow up to any pleasurable or con- 
 tented height upon what pretext soever, it fastens the 
 root, it prunes and dresses vice, as if it were a good 
 plant. Let no man doubt therefore to affirm, that it is 
 not so hurtful or dishonourable to a commonwealth, 
 nor so much to the hardening of hearts, when those 
 worse faults pretended to be feared are committed, by 
 who so dares under strict and executed penalty, as 
 when those less faults tolerated for fear of greater 
 harden their faces, not their hearts only, under the pro- 
 tection of public authority. For what less indignity 
 were this, than as if justice herself, the queen of virtues, 
 (descending from her sceptred royalty,) instead of con- 
 quering, should compound and treat with sin, her eternal 
 adversary and rebel, upon ignoble terms ? or as if the 
 judicial law were like that untrusty steward in the 
 gospel, and instead of calling in the debts of his moral 
 master, should give out subtile and sly acquittances to 
 keep himself from begging? or let us person him like 
 some wretched itinerary judge, who to gratify his de- 
 linquents before him, would let them basely break his 
 head, lest they should pull him from the bench, and 
 throw him over the bar. Unless we had rather think 
 both moral and judicial, full of malice and deadly 
 purpose, conspired to let the debtor Israelite, the seed 
 of Abraham, run on upon a bankrupt score, flattered 
 witli insufficient and ensnaring discharges, that so he 
 might be haled to a more cruel forfeit for all the in- 
 dulgent arrears which those judicial acquittances had 
 engaged him in. No, no, this cannot be, that the law 
 whose integrity and faithfulness is next to God, should 
 be cither the shameless broker of our impunities, or the 
 intended instrument of our destruction. The method 
 of holy correction, such as became the commonwealth 
 of Israel, is not to bribe sin with siu, to capitulate and 
 hire out one crime with another; but with more noble 
 and graceful severity than Popilius the Roman legate 
 used with Antiochus, to limit and level out the direct 
 way from vice to virtue, with straightest and exactest 
 lines on either side, not winding or indenting so much 
 as to the right hand of fair pretences. Violence indeed 
 and insurrection may force the law to suffer what it 
 cannot mend ; but to write a decree in allowance of sin, 
 as soon can the hand of justice rot off". Let this be 
 ever concluded as a truth that will outlive the faith of 
 those that seek to bear it down. 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 149 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 That divorce was not yiven for wives onlt/, as Beza 
 and Parous write. More of the institutioH. 
 
 Lastly, if divorce were granted, as Beza and others 
 say, not for men, but to release afflicted wives ; cer- 
 tainly, it is not only a dispensation, but a most merciful 
 law ; and why it should not yet be in force, being 
 wholly as needful, I know not what can be in cause 
 but senseless cruelty. But yet to say, divorce was 
 granted for relief of wives rather than of husbands, is 
 but weakly conjectured, and is manifestly the extreme 
 shift of a huddled exposition. Whenas it could not 
 be found how hardness of heart should be lessened by 
 liberty of divorce, a fancy was devised to hide the flaw, 
 by commenting that divorce was permitted only for the 
 help of wives. Palpably uxorious ! who can be ignor- 
 ant, that woman was created for man, and not man for 
 woman, and that a husband may be injured as insuffer- 
 ably in marriage as a wife ? What an injury is it after 
 wedlock not to be beloved ! what to be slighted ! what 
 to be contended with in point of house-rule who shall 
 be the head ; not for any parity of wisdom, for that 
 were something reasonable, but out of a female pride ! 
 " I suffer not,"saith St. Paul," the woman to usurp au- 
 thority over the man." If the apostle could not suffer 
 it, into what mould is he mortified that can .•* Solomon 
 saitli, " that a bad wife is to her husband as rottenness 
 to his bones, a continual dropping. Better dwell in 
 the corner of a house-top, or in tlie wilderness," than 
 with such a one. " Whoso hidelh her, hideth the wind, 
 and one of the four mischiefs which the earth cannot 
 bear." If the Spirit of God wrote such aggravations as 
 these, and (as may be guessed by these similitudes) 
 counsels the man rather to divorce than to live with 
 such a colleague ; and yet on the other side expresses 
 nothing of the wife's sufl^ering with a bad husband : is 
 it not most likely that God in his law had more pity 
 towards man thus wedlocked, than towards the woman 
 tliat was created for another? The same Spirit relates 
 to us the course, which the Medes and Persians took 
 by occasion of Vashti, whose mere denial to come at 
 her husband's sending, lost her the being queen any 
 longer, and set up a wholesome law, " that every man 
 should bear rule in his own house." And the divine 
 relater shews us not the least sign of disliking what 
 was done ; how should he, if Moses long before was 
 nothing less mindful of the honour and pre-eminence 
 due to man ? So that to say divorce was granted for 
 woman rather than man, was but fondly invented. 
 Esteeming therefore to have asserted thus an injured 
 law of Moses, from the unwarranted and guilty name 
 of a dispensation, to be again a most equal and requisite 
 law, we have the word of Christ himself, that he came 
 not to alter the least tittle of it ; and signifies no small 
 displeasure against him that shall teach to do so. On 
 which relying, I shall not much waver to affirm, that 
 those words, which are made to intimate as if they for- 
 bad all divorce, but for adultery, (though Moses have 
 
 constituted otherwise,) those words taken circumscriptly, 
 witliout regard to any precedent law of Moses, or at- 
 testation of Christ himself, or without care to preserve 
 those his fundamental and superior laws of nature and 
 charity, to which all other ordinances give up their 
 seal, are as much against plain equity and the mercy 
 of religion, as those words of " Take, eat, this is my 
 body," elementally understood, are against nature and 
 sense. 
 
 And surely the restoring of this degraded law hath 
 well recompensed the diligence was used by enlight- 
 ening us further to find out Avherefore Christ took off" 
 the Pharisees from alleging the law, and referred them 
 to the first institution ; not condemning, altering, or 
 abolishing this precept of divorce, which is plainly 
 moral, for that were against his truth, his promise, and 
 his prophetic office ; but knowing how fallaciously they 
 had cited and concealed the particular and natural 
 reason of the law, that they might justify any froward 
 reason of their own, he lets go that sopl)istry uncon- 
 vinced ; for tiiat had been to teach them else, which his 
 purpose was not. And since they had taken a liberty 
 which the law gave not, he amuses and repels their 
 tempting pride with a perfection of Paradise, which 
 the law required not; not thereby to oblige our per- 
 formance to that whereto the law never enjoined the 
 fallen estate of man : for if the first institution must 
 make wedlock, whatever happen, inseparable to us, it 
 must make it also as perfect, as meetly helpful, and a$ 
 comfortable as God promised it should l>c, at least in 
 some degree; otherwise it is not equal or proportion- 
 able to the strength of man, that he should be reduced 
 into such indissoluble bonds to his assured misery, if 
 all the other conditions of that covenant be manifestly 
 altered. 
 
 CHAP. XVI. 
 
 How to be undtrstood, that they must be one flesh ; and 
 how that those whom God hath joined, man should 
 not sunder. 
 
 Next he saith, " they must be one flesh ;" which 
 when all conjecturing is done, will be found to import 
 no more but to make legitimate and good the carnal 
 act, which else might seem to have something of pol- 
 luiion in it; and infers thus much over, that the fit 
 union of their souls be such as may even incorporate 
 them to love and amity : but that can never be where 
 no correspondence is of the mind ; nay, instead of be- 
 ing one flesh, they will be rather two carcasses chained 
 unnaturally together^ or, as it may happen, a living 
 soul bound to a dead corpse ; a punishment too like 
 that inflicted by the tyrant Mezentius, so little worthy 
 to be received as that remedy of loneliness, which God 
 meant us. Since we know it is not the joining of an- 
 other body will remove loneliness, but the uniting of 
 another compliable mind ; and that it is no blessing 
 
150 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 but a torment, nay a base and brutish condition to be 
 one flesh, unless where nature can in some measure fix 
 a unity of disposition. The meaning therefore of these 
 words, " For this cause shall a man leave his father 
 and his mother, and sliall cleave to his wife," was first 
 to shew us the dear afiection which naturally grows in 
 every not unnatural marriage, even to the leaving of 
 parents, or other familiarity whatsoever. Next, it 
 justifies a man in so doing, that nothing is done undu- 
 tifully to father or mother. But he tliat should be here 
 stenily commanded to cleave to his error, a disposition 
 which to his he finds will never cement, a quotidian of 
 sorrow and discontent in his house ; let us be excused 
 to pause a little, and bethink us every way round ere 
 we lay such a fiat solecism upon the gracious, and 
 certainly not inexorable, not ruthless and flinty ordi- 
 nance of marriage. For if the meaning of these words 
 must be thus blocked up within their own letters from 
 all equity and fair deduction, they will serve then well 
 indeed their turn, who affirm divorce to have been 
 granted only for wives; whenas we see no word of 
 this text binds women, but men only, what it binds. 
 No marvel then if Salomith (sister to Herod) sent a 
 writ of ease to Costobarus her husband, which (as Jo- 
 sephus there attests) was lawful only to men. No 
 marvel though Placidia, the sister of Honorius, threat- 
 ened the like to earl Constantius for a trivial cause, as 
 Photius relates from Olympiodorus. No marvel any 
 thing, if letters must be turned into palisadoes, to stake 
 out all requisite sense from entering to their due en- 
 largement. 
 
 Lastly, Christ himself tells who should not be put 
 asunder, namely, those whom God hath joined. A 
 plain solution of this great controversy, if men would 
 but use their eyes, for when is it that God may be said 
 to join ? when the parties and their friends consent ? 
 No surely, for that may concur to lewdest ends. Or is 
 it when church rites are finished ? Neither; for the effi- 
 cacy of those depends upon the presupposed fitness of 
 either party. Perhaps after carnal knowledge : least 
 of all ; for that may join persons whom neither law nor 
 nature dares join. It is left, that only then when the 
 minds are fitly disposed and enabled to maintain a 
 cheerful conversation, to the solace and love of each 
 other, according as God intended and promised in the 
 very first foundation of matrimony, " I will make 
 him a help-meet for him ;" for surely what God in- 
 tended and promised, that only can be thought to be his 
 joining, and not the contrary. So likewise the apostle 
 witnesseth, 1 Cor. vii. 15, that in marriage " God hath 
 called us to peace." And doubtless in what respect he 
 hath called us to marriage, in that also he hath joined 
 us. The rest, whom either disproportion or deadness 
 of spirit, or something distasteful and averse in the im- 
 mutable bent of nature renders conjugal, error may 
 have joined, but God never joined against the meaning 
 of his own ordinance. And if he joined them not, then 
 is there no power above their own consent to hinder 
 them from unjoining, when they cannot reap the so- 
 berest ends of being together in any tolerable sort. 
 Neither can it be said properly that such twain were 
 
 ever divorced, but only parted from each otiier, as two 
 persons unconjunctive are unmarriable together. But 
 if, whom God hath made a fit help, frowardness or 
 private injuries hath made unfit, that being the secret 
 of marriage, God can better judge than man, neither 
 is man indeed fit or able to decide this matter: how- 
 ever it be, undoubtedly a peaceful divorce is a less 
 evil, and less in scandal than hateful, hard-hearted, and 
 destructive continuance of marriage in the judgment of 
 Moses and of Christ, that justifies him in choosing the 
 less evil; which if it were an honest and civil pru- 
 dence in the law, what is there in the gospel forbid- 
 ding such a kind of legal wisdom, though we should 
 admit the common expositors ? 
 
 CHA*P. XVII. 
 
 The sentence of Christ concerning divorce how to be 
 expounded. What Grolius hath obseited. Other 
 additions. 
 
 Having thus unfolded those ambiguous reasons, 
 wherewith Christ (as his wont was) gave to the Phari- 
 sees that came to sound him, such an answer as they de- 
 served, it will not be uneasy to explain the sentence it- 
 self that now follows ; " Whosoever shall put away his 
 wife, except it be for fornication, and shall marry an- 
 other, committeth adultery." First therefore I will set 
 down what is observed by Grotius upon this point, a 
 man of general learning. Next, I produce what mine 
 own thoughts gave me before I had seen his annotations. 
 Origen, saith he, notes that Christ named adultery 
 rather as one example of other like cases, than as one 
 only exception ; and that is frequent not only in human 
 but in divine laws, to express one kind of fact, whereby 
 other causes of like nature may have the like plea, as 
 Exod. xxi. 18, 19, 20, 26 ; Deut. xix. 5. And from the 
 maxims of civil law he shews, that even in sharpest 
 penal laws the same reason hath the same right; and 
 in gentler laws, that from like causes to like the law 
 interprets rightly. But it may be objected, saith he, 
 that nothing destroys the end of wedlock so much as 
 adultery. To which he answers, that marriage was not 
 ordained only for copulation, but for mutual help and 
 comfort of life: and if we mark diligently the nature 
 of our Saviour's commands, we shall find that both 
 their beginning and their end consists in charity ; 
 whose will is, that we should so be good to others, as 
 that we be not cruel to ourselves : and hence it appears 
 wl)y Mark, and Luke, and St. Paul to the Corinthians, 
 mentioning this precept of Christ, add no exception, 
 because exceptions that arise from natural equity arc 
 included silently under general terms: it would be 
 considered therefore, whether the same equity may not 
 have place in other cases less frequent. Thus far he. 
 From hence is what I add : First, that this saying of 
 Christ, as it is usually expounded, can be no law at all, 
 that a man for no cause should separate but for adul- 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 161 
 
 tery, except it be a supernatural law, not binding us as 
 we now are ; had it been the law of nature, eitlier the 
 Jews, or some other wise and civil nation, would have 
 pressed it : or let it be so, yet that law, Deut. xxiv. 1, 
 whereby a man hath leave to part, whenas for just and 
 natural cause discovered he cannot live, is a law an- 
 cienter and deeper engraven in blameless nature than 
 the other : therefore the inspired lawgiver Moses took 
 care, that this should be specified and allowed; the 
 other he let vanish in silence, not once repeated in the 
 volume of his law, even as the reason of it vanished 
 with Paradise. Secondly, this can be no new com- 
 mand, for the gospel enjoins no new morality, save 
 only the infinite enlargement of charity, which in this 
 respect is called the new commandment by St. John, 
 as being the accomplishment of every command. 
 Thirdly, it is no command of perfection further than it 
 partakes of charity, which is " the bond of perfection." 
 Those commands therefore, which compel us to self- 
 cruelty above our strength, so hardly will help forward 
 to perfection, that they hinder and set backward in all 
 the common rudiments of Christianity, as was proved. 
 It being thus clear, that the words of Christ can be no 
 kind of command as they are vulgarly taken, we shall 
 now sec in what sense they may be a command, and 
 that an excellent one, the same with that of Moses, 
 and no other. Moses had granted, that only for a na- 
 tural annoyance, defect, or dislike, whether in body or 
 mind, ((or so the Hebrew word plainly notes,) which a 
 man could not force himself to live with, he might 
 give a bill of divorce, thereby forbidding any other 
 cause, wherein amendment or reconciliation might 
 have place. This law the Pharisees depraving extended 
 to any slight contentious cause \/hatsoever. Christ 
 therefore seeing where they halted, urges the negative 
 part of the law, which is necessarily understood, (for 
 the determinate permission of Moses binds them from 
 further licence,) and checking their supercilious drift, 
 declares that no accidental, temporary, or reconcilable 
 offence (except fornication) can justify a divorce. He 
 touches not here those natural and peq)etual hinder- 
 ances of society, whether in body or mind, which arc 
 not to be removed ; for such as they are aptest to cause 
 an unchangeable offence, so are they not capable of 
 reconcilement, because not of amendment , they do not 
 break indeed, but they annihilate the bands of marriage 
 more than adultery. For that fault committed argues 
 not always a hatred either natural or incidental against 
 whom it is committed ; neither does it infer a disability 
 of all future helpfulness, or loyalty, or loving agree- 
 ment, being once past and pardoned, where it can be 
 pardoned: but that which naturallydistastes, and "finds 
 no favour in the eyes" of matrimony, can never be 
 concealed, never appeased, never intermitted, but proves 
 a perpetual nullity of love and contentment, a solitude 
 and dead vacation of all acceptable conversing. Moses 
 therefore permits divorce, but in cases only that have 
 no hands to join, and more need of separating than 
 adultery. Christ forbids it, but in matters only that 
 may accord, and those less than fornication. Thus is 
 Moses's law here plainly confirmed, and those causes 
 
 which he permitted not a jot gainsaid. And that this 
 is the true meaning of this place, I prove by no less an 
 author than St. Paul himself, 1 Cor. vii. 10, 11 ; upon 
 which text interpreters agree, that the apostle only 
 repeats the precept of Christ : where while he speaks 
 of the " wife's reconcilement to her husband," he puts 
 it out of controversy, that our Saviour meant chiefly 
 matters of strife and reconcilement ; of which sort he 
 would not that any difference should be the occasion 
 of divorce, except fornication. And that we may learn 
 better how to value a grave and prudent law of Moses, 
 and how unadvisedly we smatter with our lips, when 
 we talk of Christ's abolishing any judicial law of iiis 
 great Father, except in some circumstances which are 
 judaical rather than judicial, and need no abolishing, 
 but cease of themselves ; I say again, that this recited 
 law of Moses contains a cause of divorce greater be- 
 yond compare than that for adultery : and whoso can- 
 not so conceive it, errs and wrongs exceedingly a law 
 of deep wisdom for want of well fathoming. For let 
 him mark, no man urges the just divorcing of adul- 
 tery as it is a sin, but as it is an injury to marriage; 
 and though it be but once committed, and that with- 
 out malice, whether through importunity or opportu- 
 nity, the gospel does not therefore dissuade him who 
 would therefore divorce ; but that natural hatred 
 whenever it arises, is a greater evil in marriage than 
 the accident of adultery, a greater defrauding, a 
 greater injustice, and yet not blamable, he who un- 
 derstands not after all this representing, I doubt liis 
 will like a hard spleen draws faster than his understand- 
 ing can well sanguify : nor did that man ever know 
 or feel what it is to love truly, nor ever yet compre- 
 hend in bis thoughts what the true intent of marriage 
 is. And this also will be somewhat above his reach, 
 but yet no less a truth for lack of his perspective, that 
 as no man apprehends what vice is so well as he who 
 is truly virtuous, no man knows hell like him who con- 
 verses most in heaven ; so there is none that can esti- 
 mate the evil and the affliction of a natural hatred in 
 matrimony, unless he have a soul gentle enough and 
 spacious enougli to contemplate what is true love. 
 
 And the reason why men so disesteera this wise judg- 
 ing law of God, and count hate, or " the not finding of 
 favour," as it is there termed, a humourous, a dishonest, 
 and slight cause of divorce, is because themselves ap- 
 prehend so little of what true concord means : for if 
 they did, they would be juster in their balancing be- 
 tween natural hatred and casual adultery ; this being 
 but a transient injury, and soon amended, I mean as 
 to the party against whom the trespass is : but that 
 other being an unspeakable and unremitting sorrow 
 and offence, whereof no amends can be made, no cure, 
 no ceasing but by divorce, which like a divine touch 
 in one moment heals all, and (like tlie word of God) in 
 one instant hushes outrageous tempests into a sudden 
 stillness and peaceful calm. Yet all this so great a 
 good of God's own enlarging to us is, by the hard reins 
 of them that fit us, wholly diverted and embezzled from 
 us. Maligners of mankind ! But who hath taught 
 you to mangle thus, and make more gashes in the 
 
153 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 miseries of a blameless creature, with the leaden dag- 
 gers of your literal decrees, to whose ease you cannot 
 add tlic tithe of one small atom, but by letting alone 
 your unhelpful surgery. As for such as think wander- 
 ing concupiscence to be here newly and more precisely 
 forbidden than it was before ; if the apostle can con- 
 vince them, we know that we arc to " know lust by 
 the law," and not by any new discovery of the gospel. 
 The law of Moses knew what it permitted, and the 
 gospel knew what it forbid ; he that under a peevish 
 conceit of debarring concupiscence, shall go about to 
 make a novice of Moses, (not to say a Avorse thing, for 
 reverence sake,) and such a one of God himself, as is a 
 horrour to think, to bind our Saviour in the default of 
 a downright promise-breaking; and to bind the dis- 
 unions of complaining nature in chains together, and 
 curb them with a canon bit; it is be that commits 
 all the whoredom and adultery which himself adjudges, 
 besides the former guilt so manifold that lies upon 
 Bim. And .if none of these considerations, with all 
 their weight and gravity, can avail to the dispossessing 
 him of his precious literalism, let some one or other en- 
 treat him but to read on in the same 19th of Matth. 
 till he comes to that place that says, " Some make them- 
 selves eunuchs for the kingtlom of heaven's sake." 
 And if then he please to make use of Origen's knife, 
 he may do well to be his own carver. 
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 Whether the words of our Saviour be rightly ex- 
 pounded only of actual fornication to be the cause 
 of divorce. The opinion of Grotius, with other 
 reasons. 
 
 But because we know that Christ never gave a ju- 
 dicial law, and that the word fornication is variously 
 significant in Scripture, it will be much right done to 
 our Saviour's words, to consider diligently whether it 
 be meant here, that nothing but actual fornication 
 proved by witness can warrant a divorce ; for so our 
 canon law judges. Nevertheless, as I find that Gro- 
 tius on this place hath observed the christian emperors, 
 Theodosius the Ilnd and Justinian, men of high wis- 
 dom and reputed piety, decreed it to be a divorcive 
 fornication, if the wife attempted either against the 
 knowledge, or obstinately against the will of her hus- 
 band, such things as gave open suspicion of adulteriz- 
 ing, as the wilful haunting of feasts, and invitations 
 with men not of near kindred, the lying forth of her 
 bouse, without probable cause, the frequenting of 
 theatres against her husband's mind, her endeavour to 
 prevent or destroy conception. Hence that of Jerom, 
 " where fornication is suspected, the wife may lawfully 
 be-divorced :" not that every motion of a jealous mind 
 should be regarded, but that it should not be exacted 
 to prove all things by the visibility of law witnessing, 
 or else to hoodwink the mind *. for the law is not able 
 
 to judge of these things but by the rule of equity, and 
 by permitting a wise man to walk the middle way of 
 prudent circumspection, neither wretchedly jealous, 
 nor stupidly and tamely patient. To this purpose hath 
 Grotius in his notes. He shews also, that fornication 
 is taken in Scripture for such a continual headstrong 
 behaviour, as tends to plain contempt of the husband, 
 and proves it out of Judges xix. 2, where the I>evite's 
 wife is said to have played the whore against him ; 
 which Josephus and the Septuagint, with the Chaldean, 
 interpret only of stubbornness and rebellion against her 
 husband : and to this I add, that Kimchi, and the 
 two other rabbics who gloss the text, are in the same 
 opinion. Ben Gersom reasons, that had it been ^ 
 whoredom, a Jew and a Levite would have disdained j 
 to fetch her again. And this I shall contribute, that 
 had it been whoredom, she would have chosen any 
 other place to run to than to her father's house, it being 
 so infamous for a Hebrew woman to play the harlot, 
 and so opprobrious to the parents. Fornication then 
 in this place of the Judges is understood for stubborn 
 disobedience against the husband, and not for adul- 
 tery. A sin of that sudden activity, as to be already 
 committed when no more is done, but only looked un- 
 chastely: which yet I should be loth to judge worthy 
 a divorce, though in our Saviour's language it be called 
 adultery. Nevertheless when palpable and frequent 
 signs are given, the law of God, Numb. v. so far gave 
 way to the jealousy of a man, as that the woman, set 
 before the sanctuary with her head uncovered, was ad- 
 jured by the priest to swear whether she were false or 
 no, and constrained to drink that " bitter water," with 
 an undoubted " curse of rottenness and tympany" to 
 follow, unless she were innocent. And the jealous 
 man had not been guiltless before God, as seems by 
 the last verse, if having such a suspicion in bis head, 
 he should neglect his trial ; which if to this day it he | 
 not to be used, or be thought as uncertain of eflTect as * 
 our antiquated law of Ordalium, yet all equity will 
 judge, that many adulterous demeanours, which are of 
 lewd suspicion and example, may be held sufficient to 
 incur a divorce, though the act itself hath not been 
 proved. And seeing the generosity of our nation is so, 
 as to account no reproach more abominable than to be 
 nicknamed the husband of an adulteress ; that our law 
 should not be as ample as the law of God, to vindicate 
 a man from that ignoble sufferance, is our barbarous 
 unskilfulness, not considering that the law should be 
 exasperated according to our estimation of tiie injury. 
 And if it must be suffered till the act be visibly proved, 
 Solomon himself, whose judgment will be granted to 
 surpass the acuteness of any canonist, confesses, Prov. 
 XXX. 19,20, that for the act of adultery it is as difficult 
 to be found as the " track of an eagle in the air, or the 
 way of a ship in the sea ; " so that a man may be put 
 to unmanly indignities ere it be found out. This there- 
 fore may be enough to inform us, that divorcive adul- 
 tery is not limited by our Saviour to the utmost act, 
 and that to be attested always b^' eyewitness, but may 
 be extended also to divers obvious actions, which either 
 plainly lead to adultery, or give such presumption 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 153 
 
 whereby sensible men may suspect the deed to be al- 
 ready done. And this the rather may be thought, in 
 that our Saviour chose to use the word Fornication, 
 which word is found to sig'nify other matrimonial 
 transgressions of main breach to that covenant besides 
 actual adultery. For that sin needed not the riddance 
 of divorce, but of death by the law, which was active 
 even till then by the example of the woman taken in 
 adultery ; or if the law had b?en dormant, our Saviour 
 was more likely to have told them of their neglect, 
 than to have let a capital crime silently scape into a 
 divorce : or if it be said, his business was not to tell 
 them what was criminal in the civil courts, but what 
 was sinful at the bar of conscience, how dare they then, 
 having no other ground than these our Saviour's word's, 
 draw that into the tnal of law, which both by Moses 
 and our Saviour was left to the jurisdiction of con- 
 science? But we take from our Saviour, say they, only 
 that it was adultery, and our law of itself applies the 
 punishment. But by their leave that so argue, the 
 great Lawgiver of all the world, who knew best what 
 was adultery, both to the Jew and to the Gentile, ap- 
 pointed no such applying, and never likes when mortal 
 men will be vainly presuming to outstrip his justice. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Christ^s manner of teaching. St. Paul adds to this 
 matter of divorce without command, to shew the mat- 
 ter to be of equity, not ofriijour. That the bondaye 
 of a Christian may be as much, and his peace as fit tie, 
 in some other marriages besides idolatrous. If those 
 arguments thei-efore be good in that one case, why not 
 in those other P Therefore the apostle himself adds, 
 iv ToTj,- roiouroif. 
 
 Thus at length we see both by this and other places, 
 that there is scarce any one saying in the gospel but 
 must be read with limitations and distinctions to be 
 rightly understood ; for Christ gives no full comments 
 or continued discourses, but (as Demetrius the rhetori- 
 cian phrases it) speaks oft in monosyllables, like a 
 master scattering the heavenly grain of his doctrine 
 like pearls here and there, which requires a skilful 
 and laborious gatherer, who must compare the words 
 he finds with other precepts, with the end of every 
 ordinance, and with the general analogy of evangelic 
 doctrine : otherwise many particular sayings would be 
 but strange repugnant riddles, and the church would 
 offend in granting divorce for frigidity, which is not 
 here excepted with adultery, but by them added. Atid 
 tliis was it undoubtedly, which gave reason to St. Paul 
 of his own authority, as he professes, and without 
 command from the Lord, to enlarge the seeming con- 
 struction of those places in the gospel, by adding a 
 case wherein a pei-son deserted (which is something 
 less than divorced) may lawfully marry again. And 
 having declared his opinion in one case, he leaves a 
 further liberty for christian prudence to determine in 
 
 cases of like importance, using words so plaiu as not 
 to be shifted off, " that a brother or a sister is not under 
 bondage in such cases ; " adding also, that " God hath 
 called us to peace" in marriage. 
 
 Now if it be plain, that a Christian may be brought 
 into unworthy bondage, and his religious peace not 
 only interrupted now and then, but perpetually and 
 finally hindered in wedlock, by misyoking with a di- 
 versity of nature as well as of religion, the reasons of 
 St. Paul cannot be made special to that one case of 
 infidelity, but are of equal moment to a divorce, 
 wherever Christian liberty and peace are witliout fault 
 equally obstructed : that the ordinance which God gave 
 to our comfort may not be pinned upon us to our un- 
 deserved thraldom, to be cooped up, as it were in 
 mockery of wedlock, to a peq)etual betrothed loneli- 
 ness and discontent, if nothing worse ensue. There 
 being nought else of marriage left between such, but a 
 displeasing and forced remedy against the sting of a 
 brute desire : which fleshly accustoming without the 
 soul's union and commixture of intellectual delight, as 
 it is rather a soiling than a fulfilling of marriage rites, 
 so is it enough to abase the mettle of a generous spirit, 
 and sinks him to a low and vulgar pitch of endeavour 
 in all his actions ; or, (which is worse,) leaves him in 
 a despairing plight of abject and hardened thoughts : 
 which condition rather than a good man should fall 
 into, a nmn useful in the service of God and mankind< 
 Christ hirasell' hath taught us to dispense with the 
 most sacred ordinance of his worship, even for a bodily 
 healing to dispense with that holy and speculative rest 
 of sabbath, much more then with the erroneous ob- 
 servance of an ill-knotted marriage, for the sustaining 
 of an overcharged faith and perseverance. 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 The meaning of St. Paul, that " charity believeth all 
 things." What is to be said to the licence which is 
 vainly feared will grow hereby. What to those who 
 never have done prescribing patience in this case. 
 The papist most severe against divorce, yet most easy 
 to all licence. Of all the miseries in marriage God is 
 to be cleared, and the faults to be laid on man's un- 
 just laws. 
 
 And though bad causes would take licence by this 
 pretext, if that cannot be remedied, upon their con- 
 science be it who shall so do. This was that hardness 
 of heart, and abuse of a good law, which Moses was 
 content to sufl^er, rather than good men should not have 
 it at all to use needfully. And he who to run after one 
 lost sheep left ninety-nine of his own flock at random 
 in the wilderness, would little perplex his thoughts for 
 the obduring of nine hundred and ninety such as will 
 daily take worse liberties, whether they have permis- 
 sion or not. To conclude, as without charity God hath 
 
154 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 given no commandment to men, so without it neither 
 can men rijflitly believe any commandment given. 
 For every act of true faith, as well that whereby we 
 believe the law, as that whereby we endeavour the law, 
 is wrought in us by charity, according to that in the 
 divine hymn of St. Paul, 1 Cor. xiii. " Charity be- 
 lieveth all things;" not as if she were so credulous, 
 which is the exposition hitherto current, for that were 
 a trivial praise, but to teach us that charity is the high 
 governess of our belief, and that we cannot safely 
 assent to any precept written in the Bible, but as cha- 
 rity commends it to us. Which agrees with that of 
 the same apostle to the Eph. iv. 14, 15 ; where he tells 
 us, that the way to get a sure undoubted knowledge of 
 things, is to hold that for truth which accords most 
 with charity. Whose unerring guidance and conduct 
 having followed as a loadstar, with all diligence and 
 fidelity, in this question ; I trust (through the help of 
 that illuminating spirit which hath favoured me) to 
 Ijave done no every day's work, in asserting, after 
 many the words of Christ, with other scriptures of 
 great concernment, from burdensome and remorseless 
 obscurity, tangled with manifold repugnances, to their 
 native lustre and consent between each other ; hereby 
 also dissolving tedious and Gordian difficulties, which 
 have hitherto molested the church of God, and are now 
 decided not with the sword of Alexander, but with the 
 immaculate hands of charity, to the unspeakable good 
 of Christendom. And let the extreme literalist sit 
 down now, and revolve whether this in all necessity 
 be not the due result of our Saviour's words, or if he 
 persist to be otherwise o])inioned, let him well advise, 
 lest thinking to gripe fast the gospel, he be found in- 
 stead with the canon law in his fist : whose boisterous 
 edicts tyrannizing the blessed ordinance of marriage 
 into the quality of a most unnatural and unchristianly 
 yoke, hath given the flesh this advantage to hate it, 
 and turn aside, ofttimes unwillingly, to all dissolute 
 uncleanness, even till punishment itself is weary of 
 and overcome by the incredible frequency of trading 
 lust and uncontrolled adulteries. Yet men whose creed 
 is custom, I doubt not will be still endeavouring to 
 hide the sloth of their own timorous capacities with 
 this pretext, that for all this it is better to endure with 
 patience and silence this affliction which God hath 
 sent. And I agree it is true, if this be exhorted and 
 not enjoined ; but withal it will be wisely done to be 
 as sure as may be, that what man's iniquity hath laid 
 on be not imputed to God's sending, lest under the 
 colour of an afTected patience we detain ourselves at 
 the gulf's mouth of many hideous temptations, not to 
 be withstood without proper gifts, which (as Perkins 
 well notes) God gives not ordinarily, no not to most 
 earnest prayers. Therefore we pray, " Lead us not 
 into temptation ;" a vain prayer, if, having led our- 
 selves thither, we love to stay in that perilous con- 
 dition. God sends remedies as well as evils, under 
 which he who lies and groans, that may lawfully ac- 
 quit himself, is accessory to his own ruin ; nor will it 
 excuse him though he suffer through a sluggish fear- 
 fiilncss to search thoroughly what is lawful, for fear 
 
 of disquieting the secure falsity of an old opinion. 
 Who doubts not but that it may be piously said, to him 
 who would dismiss his frigidity, Bear your trial, take 
 it as if God would have you live this life of conti- 
 nence ? if he exhort this, I hear him as an angel, 
 though he speak without warrant; but if he would 
 compel me, I know him for Satan. To him who di- 
 vorces an adulteress, piety might say, pardon her; you 
 may shew much mercy, you may win a soul : yet the 
 law both of God and man leaves it freely to him : for 
 God loves not to plough out the heart of our en- 
 deavours with overhard and sad tasks. God delights 
 not to make a drudge of virtue, whose actions must be 
 all elective and unconstrained. Forced virtue is as a 
 bolt overshot, it goes neither forward nor backward, 
 and docs no good as it stands. Seeing therefore that 
 neither Scripture nor reason hath laid this unjust auste- 
 rity upon divorce, we may resolve that nothing else 
 hath wrought it but that letter-bound servility of the 
 canon doctors, supposing marriage to be a sacrament, 
 and out of the art they have to lay unnecessary bur- 
 dens upon all men, to make a fair shew in the fleshly 
 observance of matrimony, though peace and love with 
 all other conjugal respects fare never so ill. And in- 
 deed the papists, who are the strictest forbidders of di- 
 vorce, are the easiest libertines to admit of grossest 
 uncleanness ; as if they had a design by making wed- 
 lock a supportless yoke, to violate it most, under colour 
 of preserving it most inviolable ; and withal delighting 
 (as their mystery is) to make men the day labourers of 
 their own afflictions, as if there were such a scarcity of 
 miseries from abroad, that we should be made to melt 
 our choicest home blessings, and coin them into crosses, 
 for want whereby to hold commerce with patience. If 
 any therefore who shall hap to read this discourse, hath 
 been through misadventure ill engaged in tirs cou- 
 tracted evil here complained of, and finds the fits and 
 workings of a high impatience frequently upon him; 
 of all those wild words which men in misery think to 
 ease themselves by uttering, let him not open his lips 
 against the providence of Heaven, or tax the ways of 
 God and his divine truth : for they are equal, easy, and 
 not burdensome : nor do they ever cross the just and 
 reasonable desires of men, nor involve this our portion 
 of mortal life into a necessity of sadness and malecon- 
 tent, by laws commanding over the unreducible anti- 
 pathies of nature, sooner or later found, but allow us to 
 remedy and shake off" those evils into which human 
 errour hath led us through the midst of our best inten- 
 tions, and to support our incident extremities by that 
 authentic precept of sovereign charity, whose grand 
 commission is to do and to dispose over all the ordinances 
 of God to man, that love and truth may advance each 
 other to everlasting. While we, literally superstitious, 
 through customary faintness of heart, not venturing to 
 pierce with our free thoughts into the full latitude of 
 nature and religion, abandon ourselves to serve under 
 the tyranny of usurped opinions ; suffering those ordi- 
 nances which were allotted to our solace and reviving, 
 to trample over us, and hale us into a multitude of sor- 
 rows, which God never meant us. And where he seta 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 155 
 
 us in a fair allowance of way, with bonest liberty and 
 prudence to our guard, we never leave subtilizing- and 
 casuisting till we have straitened and pared that liberal 
 path into a razor's edge to walk on ; between a preci- 
 pice of unnecessary mischief on either side, and start- 
 ing at every false alami, we do not know which way 
 to set a foot forward with manly confidence and chris- 
 tian resolution, through the confused ringing in our 
 ears of panic scruples and amazements. 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 That the matter of divorce is not to be tried by /aw, 
 but by conscience, as many other sins are. The ma- 
 ffistrate can only see that the condition of the divorce 
 be just and equal. The opinion of Fagius, and the 
 reasons of this assertion. 
 
 Another act of papal encroachment it was, to pluck 
 the power and arbitremcnt of divorce from the master 
 of the family, into whose hands God and the law of 
 all nations had put it, and Christ so left it, preaching 
 only to the conscience, and not authorizing a judicial 
 court to toss about and divulge the unaccountable and 
 secret reason of disaffection between man and wife, as 
 a thing most improperly answerable to any such kind 
 of trial. But the popes of Rome, perceiving the great 
 revenue and high authority it would give them even 
 over princes, to have the judging and deciding of such 
 a main consequence in the life of man as was divorce ; 
 wrought so upon the superstition of those ages, as to 
 divest them of that right, which God from the begin- 
 ning had entrusted to the husband: by which means 
 tliey subjected that ancient and naturally domestic 
 prerogative to an external and unbefitting judicature. 
 For although differences in divorce about dowries, join- 
 tures, and the like, besides the punishing of adultery, 
 ought not to pass without referring, if need be, to the 
 magistrate ; yet that the absolute and final hindering 
 of divorce cannot belong to any civil or earthly power, 
 against the will and consent of both parties, or of the 
 husband alone, some reasons will be here urged as 
 shall not need to decline the touch. But first I shall 
 recite what hath been already yielded by others in fa- 
 vour of this opinion. Grotius and many more agree, 
 that notwithstanding what Christ spake therein to the 
 Conscience, the magistrate is not thereby enjoined 
 aught against the preservation of civil peace, of equity, 
 and of convenience. And among these Fagius is most 
 remarkable, and gives the same liberty of pronouncing 
 divorce to the christian magistrate as the Mosaic had. 
 " For whatever," saith he, " Christ spake to the rege- 
 nerate, the judge hath to deal with the vulgar : if 
 therefore any through hardness of heart will not be a 
 tolerable wife to her husband, it will be lawful as well 
 now as of old to pass the billof divorce, not by private 
 but by public authority Nor doth man separate them 
 then, but God by his law of divorce given by Moses. 
 
 What can hinder the magistrate from so doing, to 
 whose government all outward things are subject, to 
 separate and remove from perpetual vexation, and no 
 small danger, those bodies whose minds are already 
 separate ; it being his office to procure peaceable and 
 convenient living in the commonwealth; and being 
 as certain also, that they so necessarily separated 
 cannot all receive a single life ?" And this I observe, 
 that our divines do generally condemn separation of 
 bed and board, without the liberty of second choice : 
 if that therefore in some cases be most purely neces- 
 sary, (as who so blockish to deny i*) then is this also 
 as needful. Thus far by others is already well 
 stepped, to inform us that divorce is not a matter of 
 law, but of charity : if there remain a furlong yet to 
 end the question, these following reasons may serve to 
 gain it with any apprehension not too unleanied or 
 too wayward. First, because ofttimcs the causes of 
 seeking divorce reside so deeply in the radical and in- 
 nocent affections of nature, as is not within the diocese 
 of law to tamper with. Other relations may aptly 
 enough be held together by a civil and virtuous love : 
 but the duties of man and wife are such as are chiefly 
 conversant in that love which is most ancient and 
 merely natural, whose two prime statutes are to join 
 itself to that which is good, and acceptable, and friendly ; 
 and to turn aside and depart from what is disagreeable, 
 displeasing, and unlike : of the two this latter is the 
 strongest, and most equal to be regarded ; for although 
 a man may often be unjust in seeking that which he 
 loves, yet he can never be unjust or blamablc in retiring 
 from his endless trouble and distaste, when as his tar- 
 rying can redound to no true content on either side. 
 Hate is of all things the mightiest divider, nay is divi. 
 siou itself. To couple hatred therefore, though wedlock 
 try all her golden links, and borrow to her aid all the 
 iron manacles and fetters of law, it does but seek to 
 twist a rope of sand, which was a task they say that 
 posed the devil: and that sluggish fiend in hell,Ocnus, 
 whom the poems tell of, brought his idle cordage to as 
 good effect, which never served to bind with, but to 
 feed the ass that stood at his elbow. And that the re- 
 strictive law against divorce attains as little to bind 
 any thing truly in a disjointed marriage, or to keep it 
 bound, but serves only to feed the ignorance and de- 
 finitive impertinence of a doltish canon, were no absurd 
 allusion. To hinder therefore those deep and serious 
 regresses of nature in a reasonable soul, parting from 
 that mistaken help, which he justly seeks in a person 
 created for him, recollecting himself from an unmeet 
 help which was never meant, and to detain him by 
 compulsion in such an unpredestined misery as this, is 
 in diameter against both nature and institution : but to 
 interpose a jurisdictive power over the inward and 
 irremediable disposition of man, to command love and 
 sympathy, to forbid dislike against the guiltless instinct 
 of nature, is not within the province of any law to 
 reach ; and were indeed an uncommodious rudeness, 
 not a just power : for that law may bandy with nature, 
 and traverse her sage motions, was an errour in Calli- 
 cles the rhetorician, whom Socrates from high principles 
 
160 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 confutes in Plato's Gorgias. If therefore divorce may 
 be so natural, and that law and nature are not to go 
 contrary ; then to forbid divorce compulsively, is not 
 only against nature, but ag^ainst law. 
 
 Next, it must be remembered, that all law is for 
 some good, that may be frequently attained without 
 the admixture of a worse inconvenience ; and therefore 
 many yross faults, as ingratitude and the like, which 
 are too far within the soul to be cured by constraint of 
 law, are left ouly to be wrought on by conscience and 
 persuasion. Which made Aristotle, in the 10th of his 
 Ethics to Nicomachus, aim at a kind of division of law 
 into private or persuasive, and public or compulsive. 
 Hence it is, that the law forbidding divorce never at- 
 tains to any good end of such prohibition, but rather 
 multiplies evil. For if nature's resistless sway in love 
 or hate be once compelled, it gro«'s careless of itself, 
 vicious, useless to friends, unserviceable and spiritless 
 to the commonwealth. Which Moses rightly foresaw, 
 and all wise lawgivers that ever knew man, what kind 
 of creature he was. The parliament also and clergy 
 of England were not ignorant of this, when they con- 
 sented that Harry the VIII might put away his queen 
 Anne of Cleve, whom he could not like after he had 
 been wedded half a year; unless it were that, contrary 
 to the proverb, they made a necessity of that which 
 might have been a virtue in them to do : for even the 
 freedom and eminence of man's creation gives him to 
 be a law in this matter to himself, being the head of 
 the other sex which was made for him : whom there- 
 fore though he ought not to injure, yet neither should 
 he be forced to retain in society to his own overthrow, 
 nor to hear any judge therein above himself It being 
 also an unseemly affront to the sequestered and veiled 
 modesty of that sex, to have her unpleasingness and 
 other concealments bandied up and down, and aggra- 
 vated in open court by those hired masters of tongue- 
 fence. Such uncomely exigencies it befel no less a 
 majesty than Henry the VIII to be reduced to, who, 
 finding just reason in his conscience to forego his bro- 
 ther's wife, after many indignities of being deluded, 
 and made a boy of by those his two cardinal judges, 
 was constrained at last, for want of other proof, that 
 she had been carnally known by prince Arthur, even 
 to uncover the nakedness of that virtuous lady, and to 
 recite openly the obscene evidence of his brother's 
 chamberlain. Yet it pleased God to make him see all 
 the tyranny of Rome, by discovering this which they 
 exercised over divorce, and to make him the beginner 
 of a reformation to this whole kingdom, by first assert- 
 ing into his familiary power the right of just divorce. 
 It is true, an adulteress cannot be shamed enough by 
 any public proceeding ; but the woman whose honour 
 is not appeached is less injured by a silent dismission, 
 being otherwise not illiberally dealt with, than to en- 
 dure a clamouring debate of uttcrless things, in a busi- 
 ness of that civil secrecy and difficult disceniing, as not 
 to be overmuch questioned by nearest friends. Which 
 drew that answer from the greatest and worthiest 
 Roman of his time, Paulus Emilius, being demanded 
 why he would put away his wife for no visible reason.' 
 
 " This shoe," said he, and held it out on his foot, " is 
 a neat shoe, a new shoe, and yet none of you know 
 where it wrings me ;" much less by the unfamiliar 
 cognizance of a feed gamester can such a private dif- 
 ference be examined, neither ought it. 
 
 Again, if law aim at the firm establishment and pre- 
 servation of matrimonial faith, we know that cannot 
 thrive under violent means, but is the more violated. 
 It is not when two unfortunately met are by the canon 
 forced to draw in that yoke an unmerciful day's work 
 of sorrow till death unharness them, that then the law 
 keeps marriage most unviolated and unbroken ; but 
 when the law takes order, that marriage be accountant 
 and responsible to perform that society, whether it be 
 religious, civil, or corporal, which maj'be conscionably 
 required and claimed therein, or else to be dissolved if 
 it cannot be undergone. This is to make marriage 
 most indissoluble, by making it a just and equal deal- 
 er, a performer of those due helps, which instituted the 
 covenant; being otherwise a most unjust contract, and 
 no more to be maintained under tuition of law, than 
 the vilest fraud, or cheat, or theft, that may be com- 
 mitted. But because this is such a secret kind of fraud 
 or theft, as cannot be discerned by law but only by the 
 plaintiff" himself; therefore to divorce was never count- 
 ed a political or civil oflTence, neither to Jew nor Gen- 
 tile, nor by any judicial intendment of Christ, further 
 than could be discerned to transgress the allowance of 
 Moses, which was of necessity so large, that it doth 
 all one as if it sent back the matter undeterminable at 
 law, and intractable by rough dealing, to have in- 
 structions and admonitions bestowed about it by them 
 whose spiritual office is to adjure and to denounce, and 
 so left to the conscience. The law can only appoint 
 the just and equal conditions of divorce, and is to look 
 bow it is an injury to the divorced, which in truth it 
 can be none, as a mere separation ; for if she consent, 
 wherein has the law to right her.'* or consent not, then 
 is it either just, and so deserved ; or if unjust, such in 
 all likelihood was the divorcer: and to part from an 
 unjust man is a happiness, and no injury to be lament- 
 ed. But suppose it to be an injury, the law is not able 
 to amend it, unless she think it other than a miserable 
 redress, to return back from whence she was expelled, 
 or but entreated to be gone, or else to live apart still 
 married without marriage, a married widow. Last, if 
 it be to chasten the divorcer, what law punishes a deed 
 which is not moral but natural, a deed which cannot 
 certainly be found to be an injury; or how can it be 
 punished by prohibiting the divorce, but that the inno- 
 cent must equally partake both in the shame and in 
 the smart ? So that which way soever we look, the law 
 can to no rational purpose forbid divorce, it can only 
 take care that the conditions of divorce be not inju- 
 rious. Thus then we see the trial of law, how imper- 
 tinent it is to this question of divorce, how helpless 
 next, and then how hurtful. 
 
THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 157 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 
 21ie last reason why divorce is not to be restrained by 
 law, it being against the laiv of nature and of nations. 
 The larger proof whereof referred to Mr. Selden^s 
 book, " De Jure Natnrali et Gentium." An ob- 
 jection of Parceus answered. How it ought to be or- 
 dered by the church. That this will not breed any 
 worse inconvenience, nor so bad as is now suffered. 
 
 Therefore the last reason, why it should not be, is 
 the example we have, not only from the noblest and 
 wisest commonwealths, guided by the clearest light of 
 human knowledge, but also from the divine testimo- 
 nies of God himself, lawgiving in person to a sancti- 
 fied people. That all this is true, whoso desires to 
 know at large with least pains, and expects not here 
 overlong rehearsals of that which is by others already 
 so judiciously gathered ; let him hasten to be acquaint- 
 ed with that noble volume written by our learned Sel- 
 den, " Of the Law of Nature and of Nations," a work 
 more useful and more worthy to be perused by whoso- 
 ever studies to be a great man in wisdom, equity, and 
 justice, than all those " decretals and sumlcss sums," 
 which the pontifical clerks have doted on, ever since 
 that unfortunate mother famously sinned thrice, and 
 died impenitent of her bringing into the world those 
 two misbegotten infants, and for ever infants, Ix)mbard 
 and Gratian, him the compiler of canon iniquity, the 
 other the Tubalcain of scholastic sophistry, whose over- 
 spreading barbarism hath not only infused tlieirown 
 bastardy upon the fruitfullest part of human learning, 
 not only dissipated and dejected the clear light of na- 
 ture in us, and of nations, but hath tainted also the 
 fountains of divine doctrine, and rendered the pure and 
 solid law of God unbeneficial to us by their calumnious 
 duncerics. Yet this law, which their unskilfulness 
 hath made liable to all ignominy, the purity and wis- 
 dom of this law shall be the buckler of our dispute. 
 Liberty of divorce we claim not, we think not but from 
 this law ; the dignity, the faith, the authority thereof 
 is now grown among Christians, O astonishment ! a 
 labour of no mean difficulty and envy to defend. That 
 it should not be counted a faultering dispense, a flat- 
 tering permission of sin, the bill of adultery, a snare, 
 is the expense of all this apology. And all that we 
 solicit is, that it may be suffered to stand in the place 
 where God set it, amidst the firmament of his holy 
 laws, to shine, as it was wont, upon the weaknesses 
 4nd errors of men, perishing else in the sincerity of 
 their honest purposes : for certain there is no memory 
 of whoredoms and adulteries left among us now, when 
 this warranted freedom of God's own giving is made 
 dangerous and discarded for a scroll of licence. It 
 must be your suffrages and votes, O Englishmen, that 
 this exploded decree of God and Moses may scape and 
 come off fair, without the censure of a shameful abro- 
 gating: which, if yonder sun ride sure, and means not 
 to break word with us to-monow, was never yet abro- 
 gated by our Saviour. Give sentence if you please. 
 
 that the frivolous canon may reverse the infallible judg- 
 ment of Moses and his great director. Or if it be the 
 reformed writers, whose doctrine persuades this rather, 
 their reasons I dare affirm are all silenced, unless it be 
 only this. Paroeus on the Corinthians would prove, 
 that hardness of heart in divorce is no more now to be 
 permitted, but to be amerced with fine and imprison- 
 ment. I am not willing to discover the forgettings of 
 reverend men, yet here I must: what article or clause 
 of the whole new covenant can Parceus bring, to exas- 
 perate the judicial law upon any infirmity under the 
 gospel ? I say infirmity, for if it were the high hand of 
 sin, the law as little would have endured it as the 
 gospel ; it would not stretch to the dividing of an in- 
 heritance ; it refused to condemn adultery, not that 
 these things should not be done at law, but to shew that 
 the gospel hath not the least influence upon judicial 
 courts, much less to make them sharper and more heavy, 
 least of all to arraign before a temporal judge that 
 which the law without summons acquitted. " But," 
 saith he, " the law was the time of youth, under vio- 
 lent affections; the gospel in us is mature age, and 
 ought to subdue affections." True, and so ought the 
 law too, if they be found inordinate, and not merely 
 natural and blameless. Next I distinguish, that the 
 time of the law is compared to youth and pupilage in 
 respect of the ceremonial part, which led the Jews as 
 children through corporal and garish rudiments, until 
 the fulness of time should reveal to them the higher 
 lessons of faith and redemption. This is not meant of 
 the moral part, therein it soberly concerned them not 
 to be babies, but to be men in good earnest : the sad 
 and awful majesty of that law was not to be jested 
 with : to bring a bearded nonage with lascivious dis- 
 pensations before that throne, had been a lewd affront» 
 as it is now a gross mistake. But what discipline is 
 this, Parceus, to nourish violent affections in youth, by 
 cockering and wanton indulgencies, and to chastise 
 them in mature age with a boyish rod of correction ? 
 How much more coherent is it to Scri])ture, that the 
 law as a strict schoolmaster should have punished every 
 trespass without indulgence so baneful to youth, and 
 that the gospel should now correct that by admonition 
 and reproof only, in free and mature age, which was 
 punished with stripes in the childhood and bondage of 
 the law ? What therefore it allowed then so fairly, much 
 less is to be whipped now, especially in penal courts : 
 and if it ought now to trouble the conscience, why did 
 that angry accuser and condemner law reprieve it ? So 
 then, neither from Moses nor from Christ hath the ma- 
 gistrate any authority to proceed against it. But what, 
 shall then the disposal of that power return again to 
 the master of a family ? Wherefore not, since God there 
 put it, and the presumptuous canon thence bereft it? 
 This only must be provided, that the ancient manner 
 be observed in the presence of the minister and other 
 grave selected elders, who after they shall have ad- 
 monished and pressed upon him the words of our Sa- 
 viour, and he shall have protested in the faith of the 
 eternal gospel, and the hope he has of happy resurrec- 
 tion, that otherwise than thus he cannot do, and thinks 
 
158 
 
 THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 himself and this bis case not contained in that prohi- 
 bition of divorce which Christ pronounced, the matter 
 not being of malice, but of nature, and so not capable 
 of reconciliug ; to constrain him further were to un- 
 christian him, to unman bim, to tbrow the mountain of 
 Sinai upon bim, with the weight of the whole law to 
 boot, flat against the liberty and essence of the gospel ; 
 and yet nothing available either to tbe sanctity of mar- 
 riage, the good of husband, wife, or children, nothing 
 profitable either to church or commonwealth, but hurt- 
 ful and pernicious in all these respects. But liiis will 
 bring in confusion : yet these cautious mistrusters 
 might consider, that what they thus object lights not 
 upon this book, but upon that which I engage against 
 them, the book of God and Moses, with all the wisdom 
 and providence which had forecast the worst of confu- 
 sion that could succeed, and yet thought fit of such a 
 permission. But let them be of good cheer, it wrought 
 so little disorder among the Jews, that from Moses till 
 after the captivity, not one of the prophets thought it 
 worth the rebuking ; for that of Malachi well looked 
 into will appear to be not against divorcing, but rather 
 against keeping strange concubines, to the vexation of 
 their Hebrew wives. If therefore we Christians may 
 be thought as good and tractable as tbe Jews were, 
 (and certainly the probibitors of divorce presume us to 
 be better,) then less confusion is to be feared for this 
 among us than was among them. If we be worse, or 
 but as bad, which lamentable examples confirm we are, 
 then have we more, or at least as much, need of this 
 permitted law, as they to whom God therefore gave it 
 (as they say) under a harsher covenant. Let not there- 
 fore the frailty of man go on thus inventing needless 
 troubles to itself, to groan under the false imagination 
 of a strictness never imposed from above ; enjoining 
 that for duty, which is an impossible and vain super- 
 erogating. " Be not righteous overmuch," is the coun- 
 sel of Ecclesiastes ; "why shouldst thou destroy thy- 
 self?" Let us not be thus overcurious to strain at 
 atoms, and yet to stop every vent and cranny of per- 
 missive liberty, lest nature wanting those needful pores 
 and breathing-places, which God hath not debarred 
 our weakness, either suddenly break out into some wide 
 rupture of open vice and frantic heresy, or else inwardly 
 fester with repining and blasphemous thoughts, under 
 an unreasonable and fruitless rigour of unwarranted 
 law. Against which evils nothing can more beseem 
 the religion of the church, or the wisdom of the state, 
 than to consider timely and provide. And in so doing 
 let them not doubt but they shall vindicate the misre- 
 puted honour of God and his great lawgiver, by suffer- 
 ing bim to g^ve his own laws according to the condition 
 
 of man's nature best known to him, without the un- 
 sufferable imputation of dispensing legally with many 
 ages of ratified adultery. They shall recover the mis- 
 attended words of Christ to the sincerity of their true 
 sense from manifold contradictious, and sliall open them 
 with the key of charity. Many helpless Christians 
 they shall arise from the depth of sadness and distress, 
 utterly unfitted as they are to serve God or man : many 
 they shall reclaim from obscure and giddy sects, many 
 regain from dissolute and brutish licence, many from 
 desperate hardness, if ever that were justly pleaded. 
 They shall set free many daughters of Israel not want- 
 ing much of her sad plight whom " Satan had bound 
 eighteen years." Man they shall restore to his just dig- 
 nity and prerogative in nature, preferring the soul's 
 free peace before the promiscuous draining of a canial 
 rage. Marriage, from a perilous hazard and snare, 
 they shall reduce to be a more certain haven and re- 
 tirement of happy society; when they shall judge ac- 
 cording to God and Moses, (and how not then accord- 
 ing to Christ,) when they shall judge it more wisdom 
 and goodness to break that covenant seemingly, and 
 keep it really, than by compulsion of law to keep it 
 seemingly, and by compulsion of blameless nature to 
 break it really, at least if it were ever truly joined. 
 The vigour of discipline they may then turn with bet- 
 ter success upon the prostitute looseness of the times, 
 when men, finding in themselves the infirmities of for- 
 mer ages, shall not be constrained above the gift of 
 God in them to unprofitable and impossible observ- 
 ances, never required from the civilest, the wisest, the 
 holiest nations, whose other excellencies in moral vir- 
 tue they never yet could equal. Last of all, to those 
 whose mind is still to maintain textual restrictions, 
 whereof the bare sound cannot consist sometimes with 
 humanity, much less with charity; I would ever answer, 
 bv putting them in remembrance of a command above 
 all commands, which they seem to have forgot, and 
 who spake it : in comparison whereof, this which they 
 so exalt is but a petty and subordinate precept. " Let 
 them go" therefore with whom I am loth to couple 
 them, yet they will needs run into the same blindness 
 with the Pharisees ; " let them go therefore," and con- 
 sider well what this lesson means, " I will have mercy 
 and not sacrifice ;" for on that " saying all the law and 
 prophets depend," much more the gosjiel, whose end 
 and excellence is mercy and peace. Or if they cannot 
 learn that, how will they hear this ? which yet I shall 
 not doubt to leave with them as a conclusion. That 
 God the Son hath put all other things under his own 
 feet, but his commandments he hath left all under tlie 
 feet of charity. 
 
JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER, CONCERNING DIVORCE: 
 
 WRITTEN TO EDWARD THE SIXTH, IN HIS SECOND BOOK OF THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST; AND NOW ENGLISHED. WHEREIN A LAT8 
 BOOK, RESTORING THE "DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE," 13 HERE CONFIRMED AND JUSTIFIED BY THE AUTHORITY OP 
 
 MABTIN BDCBR. 
 
 TO THE PARLIAMENT OF ENGLAND. 
 
 John iii. 10. " Art thou a teacher of Israel, and knowest not tbcM things ?" 
 
 PUBLISHED BY AUTHORITY. 
 
 TESTIMONIES OF THE HIGH APPROBATION WHICH LEARNED 
 MEN HAVE GIVEN OP MARTIN BUCER. 
 
 Simon Grinaus, 1533. 
 
 Among all the Germans, I give the palm to Bucer, for 
 excellence in the Scriptures. Melancthon in human 
 learning' is wonderous fluent ; but greater knowledge 
 in the Scripture I attribute to Bucer, and speak it un- 
 feignedly. 
 
 John Calvin, 1533. 
 
 Martin Bucer, a most faithful doctor of the church 
 of Christ, besides his rare learning, and copious know- 
 ledge of many things, besides his clearness of wit, 
 much reading, and other many and various virtues, 
 wherein he is almost by none now living excelled, 
 hath icw equals, and excels most; hath this praise pe- 
 culiar to himself, that none in this age hath used ex- 
 acter diligence in the exposition of Scripture. 
 
 And a little beneath. 
 
 Bucer is more large than to be read by overbusied 
 men, and too high to be easily understood by unatten- 
 tive men, and of a low capacity. 
 
 Sir John Cheek, Tutor to King Edward YI. 1551. 
 
 We have lost our master, than whom the world 
 scarce held a greater, whether we consider his know- 
 ledge of true religion, or his integrity and innocence 
 of life, or his incessant study of holy things, or his 
 matchless labour of promoting piety, or his authority 
 and amplitude of teaching, or whatever else was 
 praise-worthy and glorious in him. Script. Anglican, 
 pag. 864. 
 
 John Sturmius of Strasburgh. 
 
 No man can be ignorant what a great and constant 
 opinion and estimation of Bucer there is in Italy, 
 
 France, and England. Whence the saying of Quin- 
 tilian hath oft come to my mind, that he hath well 
 profited in eloquence whom Cicero pleases. The same 
 say I of Bucer, that he hath made no small progress in 
 divinity, whom Bucer pleases; for in his volumes, 
 which he wrote very many, there is the plain impres- 
 sion to be discerned of many great virtues, of diligence, 
 of charity, of truth, of acuteness, of judgment, of learn- 
 ing. Wherein he hath a certain proper kind of writing, 
 whereby he doth not only teach the reader, but affects 
 him with the sweetness of his sentences, and with the 
 manner of his arguing, which is so teaching, and so 
 logical, that it may be perceived how learnedly he se- 
 parates probable reasons from necessary, how forcibly 
 he confirms what he has to prove, how subtilely be 
 refutes, not with sharpness but with truth. 
 
 Theodore Beza^ on the Portraiture ofM. Bucei: 
 
 This is that countenance of Bucer, the mirror of 
 mildness tempered with gravity ; to whom the city of 
 Strasburgh owes the reformation of her church. Whose 
 singular learning, and eminent zeal, joined with ex- 
 cellent wisdom, both his learned books, and public dis- 
 putations in the general diets of the empire, shall 
 witness to all ages. Him the German persecution 
 drove into England ; where honourably entertained by 
 Edward the Vlth, he was for two years chief professor 
 of divinity in Cambridge, with greatest frequency and 
 applause of all learned and pious men until his death, 
 1551. BezsB Icones. 
 
 Mr. Fox's Book of Martyrs, Vol. iii. p. 763. 
 
 Bucer, what by writing, but chiefly by reading 
 and preaching openly, wherein, being painful in the 
 word of God, he never spared himself, nor regarded 
 health, brought all men into such an admiration of 
 him, that neither his friends could sufficiently praise 
 him, nor his enemies in any point find fault with 
 
leo 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER, 
 
 his singular life and sincere doctrine. A most cer- 
 tain token whereof may he his sumptuous hurial at 
 Cambridge, solemnized with so great an assistance of 
 all tlie university, that it was not possible to devise 
 more to the setting out and amplifying of the same. 
 
 Dr. Pern, the Popish Vice-chancellor of Cambridge, 
 his adversary. 
 
 Cardinal Pool, about the fourth year of Queen Mary, 
 intending to reduce the university of Cambridge to 
 popery again, thought no way so effectual, as to cause 
 the bones of Martin Bucer and Paulus Fagius, which 
 bad been four years in the grave, to be taken up and 
 burnt openly with their books, as knowing that those 
 two worthy men had been of greatest moment to the 
 reformation of that place from popery, and had left 
 such powerful seeds of their doctrine behind them, as 
 would never die, unless the men themselves were 
 digged up, and openly condemned for heretics by the 
 university itself. This was put in execution, and Doc- 
 tor Pern, vice-chancellor, appointed to preach against 
 Bucer : who, among other things, laid to his charge 
 the opinions which he held of the marriage of priests, 
 of divorcement, and of usury. But immediately after 
 bis sermon, or somewhat before, as the Book of Mar- 
 tyrs for a truth relates, vol. iii. p. 770, the said Doctor 
 Pern smiting himself on the breast, and in manner 
 weeping, wished with all his heart, that God would 
 grant his soul might then presentlj' depart, and remain 
 with Bucer's; for he knew his life was such, that if 
 any man's soul were worthy of heaven, he thought 
 Bucer's in special to be most worthy. Histor. de Com- 
 bust. Buceri et Fagii. 
 
 Acworth, the University-orator. 
 
 Soon after that Queen Elizabeth came to the crown, 
 this condemnation of Bucer and Fagius by the cardi- 
 nal and his doctors was solemnly repealed by the uni- 
 versity ; and the memory of those two famous men ce- 
 lebrated in an oration by Acworth, the University-ora- 
 tor, which is yet extant in the Book of Martyrs, vol. 
 iii. p. 773, and in Latin, Scripta Anglican, p. 936. 
 
 Nicholas Carre, a learned man ; Walter Haddon, 
 master of the requests to Queen Elizabeth ; Matthew 
 Parker, afterwards primate of England ; with other 
 eminent men, in their funeral orations and sermons, 
 express abundantly how great a man Martin Bucer 
 was; what an incredible loss England sustained in his 
 death ; and that with him died the hope of a perfect 
 reformation for that a^^e. Ibid. 
 
 Jacobus Verheiden of Grave, in his elogies of famous 
 divines. 
 
 Though the name of Martin Luther be famous, yet 
 thou, Martin Bucer, for piety, learning, labour, care, 
 vigilance, and writing, art not to be held inferiour to 
 Luther. Bucer was a singular instrument of God, so 
 was Luther. By the death of this most learned and 
 most faithful man, the church of Christ sustained a 
 heavy loss, as Calvin witnesseth ; and they who are 
 studious of Calvin are not i<rnorant how much he as- 
 
 cribes to Bucer; for thus he writes in a letter to Virc- 
 tus : " What a manifold loss hefel the church of God 
 in the death of Bucer, as oft as I call to mind, I feel 
 my heart almost rent asunder." 
 
 Peter Martyr Epist. to Conradus Hubcrtus. 
 
 He is dead, who hath overcome in many battles of 
 the Lord. God lent us for a time this our father, and 
 our teacher, never enough praised. Death hath di- 
 vided me from a most unanimous friend, one truly ac- 
 cording to mine own heart. My mind is overpressed 
 with grief, insomuch that I have not power to write 
 more. I bid thee in Christ farewell, and wish thou 
 mayst be able to bear the loss of Bucer better than I 
 can bear it. 
 
 Testimonies given by learned men to Paulus Fagius^ 
 who held the same opinion with Martin Bucer con- 
 cerning divorce. 
 
 Paulus Fagius, bom in the Palatinate, became most 
 skilful in the Hebrew tongue. Being called to the 
 ministry at lana, he published many ancient and pro- 
 fitable Hebrew books, being aided in the expenses by 
 a senator of that city, as Origen sometime was by a 
 certain rich man called Ambrosius. At length invited 
 to Strasburgh, he there famously discharged the office 
 of a teacher ; until the same persecution drove him 
 and Bucer into England, where he was preferred to a 
 professor's place in Cambridge, and soon after died. 
 Bezee Icones. 
 
 Melchior Adamus writes his life among the famous 
 German divines. 
 
 Sleidan and Huanus mention him with honour in 
 their history : and Verheiden in his elogies. 
 
 TO THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 The Book which, among other great and high 
 points of reformation, contains as a principal part 
 thereof, this treatise here presented, supreme court of 
 parliament ! was, by the famous author Martin Bucer, 
 dedicated to Edward the VI : whose incomparable 
 youth doubtless had brought forth to the church of 
 England such a glorious manhood, had his life 
 reached it, as would have left in the affairs of religion 
 nothing without an excellent pattern for us now to fol- 
 low. But since the secret purpose of divine appoint- 
 ment hath reserved no less perhaps than the just half 
 of such a sacred work to be accomplished in this age, 
 and principally, as we trust, by your successful wis- 
 dom and authority, religious lords and commons ! 
 what wonder if I seek no other, to whose exaclest 
 judgment and review I may commend these last and 
 worthiest labours of this renowned teacher; whom 
 living all the pious nobility of those reforming times, 
 your truest and best-imitated ancestors, reverence<l and 
 admired. Nor was he wanting to a recompence as great 
 as was himself; when both at many times before, and 
 especially among his last sighs and prayers, testifying 
 his dear and fatherly affection to the church and realm 
 
CONCERNING DIVORCE. 
 
 161 
 
 of Eng-land, be sincerely wished in the hearing of 
 many devout men, "that what he had in his last book 
 written to King Edward concerning' discipline might 
 have place in this kingdom. His hope was then, 
 that no calamity, no confusion, or deformity would 
 happen to the commonwealth ; but otherwise he 
 feared, lest in the midst of all this ardency to 
 know God, yet by the neglect of discipline, our 
 good endeavours would not succeed."* These remark- 
 able words of so godly and so eminent a man at his 
 death, as they are related by a sufficient and well- 
 known witness, who heard them, and inserted by Thu- 
 anus into his grave and serious history ; so ought they 
 to be chiefly considered by that nation, for whose sake 
 they were uttered, and more especially by that general 
 council, which represents the body of that nation. If 
 therefore the book, or this part thereof, for necessary 
 causes, be now revived and recommended to the use of 
 this undisciplined age ; it hence appears, that these 
 reasons have not erred in the choice of a fit patronage 
 for a discourse of such importance. But why the 
 whole tractate is not here brought entire, but this mat- 
 ter of divorcement selected in particular, to prevent the 
 full speed of some misinterpreter, I hasten to disclose. 
 First, it will be soon manifest to them who know what 
 wise men should know, that the constitution and re- 
 formation of a commonwealth, if Ezra and Nehcmiah 
 did not misreform, is, like a building, to begin orderly 
 from the foundation thereof, which is marriage and the 
 family, to set right first whatever is amiss therein. How 
 can there else grow up a race of warrantable men, while 
 the house and homo that breeds them is troubled aiid 
 disquieted under a bondage not of God's constraining, 
 with a natureless constraint, (if his must righteous judg- 
 ments may be our rule,) but laid upon us imperiously 
 in the worst and weakest ages of knowledge, by a ca- 
 nonical tyranny of stupid and malicious monks ? who 
 having rashly vowed themselves to a single life, which 
 they could not undergo, invented new fetters to throw 
 on matrimony, that the world thereby waxing more 
 dissolute, they also in a general looseness might sin 
 with more favour. Next, there being yet among many 
 such a strange iniquity and perverseness against all 
 necessary divorce, while they will needs expound the 
 words of our Saviour, not duly by comparing other 
 places, as they must do in the resolving of a hundred 
 other scriptures, but by persisting deafly in the abrupt 
 and papistical way of a literal apprehension against 
 the direct analogy of sense, reason, law, and gospel ; 
 it therefore may well seem more than time, to apply 
 the sound and holy persuasions of this apostolic man to 
 that part in us, which is not yet fully dispossessed of 
 an errour as absurd, as most that we deplore in our 
 blindest adversaries ; and to let his authority and un- 
 answerable reasons be vulgarly known, that either his 
 name, or the force of his doctrine, may work a whole- 
 some effect. Lastly, I find it clear to be the author's 
 intention, that this point of divorcement should beheld 
 and received as a most necessary and prime part of 
 discipline in every Christian government. And there- 
 
 • Nicol. Car. de obitu Buceri. 
 
 fore having reduced his model of reformation to fourteen 
 heads, he bestows almost as much time about this one 
 point of divorce, as about all the rest; which also was 
 tlie judgment of his heirs and learned friends in Ger- 
 many, best acquainted with his meaning ; who first 
 published this his book by Oporinus at Basil, (a city 
 for learning and constancy in the true faith honourable 
 among the first,) added a special note in the title, " that 
 there the reader should find the doctrine of divorce 
 handled so solidly, and so fully, as scarce the like in 
 any writer of that age :" and with this particular com- 
 mendation they doubted not to dedicate the book, as a 
 most profitable and exquisite discourse, to Christian 
 the Illd, a worthy and pious king of Denmark, as the 
 author himself had done before to our Edward the 
 Vlth. Yet did not Bucer in that volume only declare 
 what his constant opinion was herein, but also in his 
 comment upon Matthew, written at Strasburgh divers 
 years before, he treats distinctly and copiously the 
 same argument in three several places ; touches it also 
 upon the 7th to the Romans, and promises the same 
 solution more largely upon the first to the Corinthians, 
 omitting no occasion to weed out this last and deepest 
 mischief of the canon law, sown into the opinions of 
 modern men, against the laws and practice both of 
 God's chosen people, and the best primitive times. 
 Wherein his faithfulness and powerful evidence pre- 
 vailed so far with all the church of Strasburgh, that 
 they published this doctrine of divorce as an article of 
 their confession, after they had taught so eight and 
 twenty years, through all those times, when that city 
 flourished, and excelled most, both in religion, learn- 
 ing, and government, under those first restorers of 
 the gospel there, Zelius, Hedio, Capito, Eagius, and 
 those who incomparably then governed the common- 
 wealth, Farrerus and Sturmius. If therefore God in 
 the former age found out a servant, and by whom he 
 had converted and reformed many a city, by him 
 thought good to restore the most needful doctrine of 
 divorce from rigorous and harmful mistakes on the 
 right hand ; it can be no strange thing, if in this age 
 he stir up by whatsoever means whom it pleases him, 
 to take in hand and maintain the same assertion. 
 Certainly if it be in man's discerning to sever provi- 
 dence from chance, I could allege many instances, 
 wherein there would appear cause to esteem of me no 
 other than a passive instrument under some power and 
 counsel higher and better than can be human, working 
 to a general good in the whole course of this matter. 
 For that I owe no light, or leading received from any 
 man in the discovery of this truth, what time I first 
 undertook it in " the Doctrine and Discipline of Di- 
 vorce," and had only the infallible grounds of Scripture 
 to be my guide ; he who tries the inmost heart, and 
 saw with what severe industry and examination of 
 myself I set down every period, will be my witness. 
 When I had almost finished the first edition, I chanced 
 to read in the notes of Hugo Grotius upon the 5th of 
 Matthew, whom I straight understood inclining to 
 reasonable terras in this controversj : and something 
 
102 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER, 
 
 he wliispered rather than (lisputcd about tlic law of 
 charity, and the true end of wedlock. Glad therefore 
 of such an able assistant, however at much distance, I 
 resolved at length to put off into this wild and calum- 
 nious world. For God, it seems, intended to prove me, 
 whether I durst alone take up a rightful cause against 
 a world of disesteem, and found I durst. My name I 
 did not publish, as not willing it should sway the reader 
 either for me or against me. But when I was told that 
 the style, which what it ails to be so soon distinguish- 
 able I cannot tell, was known by most men, and that 
 some of tlie clergy began to inveigh and exclaim on 
 what I was credibly informed they had not read ; I 
 took it then for my proper season, both to shew them a 
 name that could easily contemn such an indiscreet kind 
 of censure, and to reinforce the question with a more 
 accurate diligence : that if any of them would be so 
 good as to leave railing, and to let us hear so much of 
 his learning and christian wisdom, as will be strictly 
 demanded of him in his answering to this problem, care 
 was had he should not spend his preparations against 
 a nameless pamphlet. By this time I had learned that 
 .Paulus Fagius, one of the chief divines in Germany, 
 sent for by Frederic the Palatine, to reform his domin- 
 ion, and after that invited hither in King Edward's 
 days, to be a professor of divinity in Cambridge, was 
 of the same opinion touching divorce, which these men 
 so lavishly traduced in me. What I found, I inserted 
 where fittest place was, thinking sure they would re- 
 spect so grave an author, at least to the moderating of 
 their odious inferences. And having now perfected a 
 second edition, I referred the judging thereof to your 
 high and impartial sentence, honoured lords and com- 
 mons ! For I was confident, if any thing generous, any 
 thing noble, and above the multitude, were left yet in 
 the spirit of England ; it could be no where sooner 
 found, and no where sooner understood, than in that 
 house of justice and true liberty, where ye sit in coun- 
 cil. Nor doth the event hitherto, for some reasons 
 which I shall not here deliver, fail me of what I con- 
 ceived so highly. Nevertheless, being far otherwise 
 dealt with by some, of whose profession and supposed 
 knowledge I had better hope, and esteemed the deviser 
 of a new and pernicious paradox ; I felt no difference 
 within me from that peace and firmness of mind, which 
 is of nearest kin to patience and contentment : both for 
 that I knew I had divulged a truth linked inseparably 
 with the most fundamental rules of Christianity, to 
 stand or fall together, and was not uninformed, that 
 divers learned and judicious men testified their daily 
 approbation of the book. Yet at length it hath pleased 
 God, who had already given me satisfaction in myself, 
 to afford me now a means whereby I may be fully 
 justified also in the eyes of men. When the book had 
 been now the second time set forth well-nigh three 
 months, as I best remember, I then first came to hear 
 that Martin Bucer had written much concerning di- 
 vorce : whom, earnestly turning over, I soon perceived, 
 but not without amazement, in the same opinion, con- 
 firmed with the same reasons which in that published 
 book, without the help or imitation of any precedent 
 
 writer, I had laboured out, and laid together. Not but 
 that there is some difference in the handling, in the 
 order, and the number of arguments, but still agreeing 
 in the same conclusion. So as I may justly gratulate 
 mine own mind with due acknowledgment of assist- 
 ance from above, which led me, not as a learner, but 
 as a collateral teacher, to a sympathy of judgment 
 with no less a man than Martin Bucer. And he, if 
 our things here below arrive him where he is, does not 
 repent him to see that point of knowledge, which he 
 first and with an unchecked freedom preached to those 
 more knowing times of England, now found so neces- 
 sary, though what he admonished were lost out of our 
 memory ; yet that God doth now again create the same 
 doctrine in another unwritten table, and raises it up 
 immediately out of his pure oracle to the convincement 
 of a perverse age, eager in the reformation of names 
 and ceremonies, but in realities as traditional and as 
 ignorant as their forefathers. I would ask now the 
 foremost of my profound accusers, whether they dare 
 affirm that to be licentious, new, and dangerous, which 
 Martin Bucer so often and so urgently avouched to be 
 most lawful, most necessary, and most christian, with- 
 out the least blemish to his good name, among all the 
 worthy men of that age, and since, who testify so highly 
 of him ? If they dare, they must then set up an arrogance 
 of their own against all those churches and saints who 
 honoured him without this exception : if they dare not, 
 how can they now make that licentious doctrine in an- 
 other, which was never blamed or confuted in Bucer, 
 or in Fagius ? The truth is, there will be due to them 
 for this their unadvised rashness the best donative that 
 can be given them ; I mean, a round reproof; now 
 that where they thought to be most magisterial, they 
 have displayed their own want, both of reading, and 
 of judgment. First, to be so unacquainted in the 
 writings of Bucer, which are so obvious and so useful 
 in their own faculty; next, to be so caught in a preju- 
 dicating weakness, as to condemn that for lewd, which 
 (whether they knew or not) these elect servants of 
 Christ commended for lawful ; and for new, that which 
 was taught by these almost the first and greatest au- 
 thors of reformation, who were never taxed for so 
 teaching ; and dedicated without scruple to a royal 
 pair of the first reforming kings in Christendom, and 
 confessed in the public confession of amostortliodoxical 
 church and state in Germany. This is also another 
 fault which I must tell them ; that they have stood 
 now almost this whole year clamouring afar off, while 
 the book hath been twice printed, twice brought up, 
 and never once vouchsafed a friendly conference with 
 the author, who would be glad and thankful to be 
 shown an errour, either by private dispute, or public 
 answer, and could retract, as well as wise men before 
 him; might also be worth the gaining, as one who 
 heretofore hath done good service to tl>e church by 
 their own confession. Or if he be obstinate, their con- 
 futation would have rendered him without excuse, and 
 reclaimed others of no mean parts, who incline to his 
 opinion. But now their work is more than doubled ; 
 and how they will hold up their heads against the 
 
CONCERNING DIVORCE. 
 
 163 
 
 sudden aspect of these two great and reverend saints, 
 whom they have defamed, how they will make good 
 the censuring of that, for a novelty of licence, which 
 Bucer constantly taught to he a pure and holy law of 
 Christ's kingdom, let them advise. For against these 
 my adversaries, who, before the examining of a pro- 
 pounded truth in a fit time of reformation, have had the 
 conscience to oppose naught else but their blind re- 
 proaches and surmises, that a single innocence might 
 not be oppressed and overborn by a crew of mouths, 
 for the restoring of a law and doctrine falsely and un- 
 leamedly reputed new and scandalous ; God, that I 
 may ever magnify and record this his goodness, hath 
 unexpectedly raised up as it were from the dead more 
 than one famous light of the first reformation, to bear 
 witness with me, and to do me honour in that very 
 thing, wherein these men thought to have blotted me ; 
 and hath given them the proof of a capacity, which they 
 despised, running equal, and authentic with some of 
 their chiefest masters unthought of, and in a point of 
 sagest moment. However, if we know at all when to 
 ascribe the occurrences of this life to the work of a 
 special Providence, as nothing is more usual in the 
 talk of good men, what can be more like to a special 
 Providence of God, than in the first reformation of 
 England, that this question of divorce, as a main thing 
 to be restored to just freedom, was written, and seri- 
 ously commended to Edward the Vlth, by a man called 
 from another country to be the instructor of our na- 
 tion ; and now in this present renewing of the church 
 and commonwealth, which we pray may be more 
 lasting, that the same question should be again treated 
 and presented to this parliament, by one enabled to 
 use the same reasons without the Ic.st sight or know- 
 ledge of what was done before ."* It were no trespass, 
 lords and commons ! though something of less note 
 were attributed to the ordering of a heavenly power; 
 this question therefore of such prime concernment botli 
 to christian and civil welfare, in such an extraordinary 
 manner, not recovered, but plainly twice bom to these 
 latter ages, as from a divine hand I tender to your ac- 
 ceptance, and most considerate thoughts. Think not 
 that God raised up in vain a man of greatest authority 
 in the church, to tell a trivial and licentious tale in the 
 ears of that good prince, and to bequeath it as his la.st 
 will and testament, nay rather as the testament and 
 royal law of Christ, to this nation ; or that it should of 
 itself, after so many years, as it were in a new field 
 where it was never sown, grow up again as a vicious 
 plant in the mind of another, who had spoke hojicstest 
 things to the nation ; though he knew not that what his 
 youth then reasoned without a pattern had been beard 
 already, and well allowed from the gravity and worth 
 of Martin Bucer: till meeting with the envy of men 
 ignorant in their own undertaken calling, God directed 
 him to the forgotten writings of this faithful evange- 
 list, to be his defence and warrant against tlie gross 
 imputation of broaching licence. Ye are now in the 
 glorious way to high virtue, and matchless deeds, trust- 
 ed with a most inestimable trust, the asserting of our 
 just liberties. Ye have a nation tiiat expects now, and 
 
 from mighty suflTerings aspires to be the example of all 
 Christendom to a perfectest reforming. Dare to be as 
 great, as ample, and as eminent in the fair progress of 
 your noble designs, as the full and goodly stature of 
 truth and excellence itself; as unlimited by petty pre- 
 cedents and copies, as your unquestionable calling from 
 Heaven gives ye power to be. What are all our public 
 immunities and privileges worth, and how shall it be 
 judged, that we fight for them with minds worthy to 
 enjoy them, if we suffer ourselves in the mean while 
 not to understand the most important freedom, that 
 God and nature hath given us in the family; which 
 no wise nation ever wanted, till the popery and super- 
 stition of some former ages attempted to remove and 
 alter divine and most prudent laws for human and 
 most imprudent canons : whereby good men in the 
 best portion of their lives, and in that ordinance of God 
 which entitles them from the beginning to most just 
 and requisite contentments, are compelled to civil in- 
 dignities, which by the law of Moses bad men were not 
 compelled to ? Be not bound about, and straitened in 
 the spacious wisdom of your free spirits, by the scanty 
 and unadequate and inconsistent principles of such as 
 condemn others for adhering to traditions, and are them- 
 selves the prostrate worshippers of custom ; and of 
 such a tradition as they can deduce from no antiquity, 
 but from the rudest and thickest barbarism of anti- 
 christian times. But why do I anticipate the more ac- 
 ceptable and prevailing voice of learned Bucer himself, 
 the pastor of nations ? And O that I could set him liv- 
 ing before ye in that doctrinal chair, where once the 
 learnedcst of England thought it no disparagement to 
 sit at his feet! He would be such a pilot, and such a 
 father to ye, as ye would soon find the difference of his 
 hand and skill upon the helm of reformation. Nor do 
 I forget that faithful associate of his labours, Paulus 
 Fagius ; for these their great names and merits, how 
 precious soever, God hath now joined with me neces- 
 sarily, in the good or evil report of this doctrine, which 
 I leave with you. It was written to a religious king 
 of this land ; written earnestly as a main matter where- 
 in this kingdom needed a reform, if it purposed to bo 
 the kingdom of Christ : written by him, who if any, 
 since the days of Luther, merits to be counted the apos- 
 tle of the church : whose unwearied pains and watch- 
 ing for our sakes, as they spent him quickly here among 
 us, so did they, during the shortness of his life, incre- 
 dibly promote the gospel throughout this realm. The 
 authority, the learning, the godliness of this man con- 
 sulted with, is able to outbalance all that the lightness 
 of a vulgar opposition can bring to counterpoise. I 
 leave him also as my complete surety and testimonial, 
 if truth be not the best witness to itself, that what I 
 formerly presented to your reading on this subject, 
 was good, and just, and honest, not licentious. Not 
 that I have now more confidence by the addition of 
 these great authors to my party: for what I wrote 
 was not my opinion, but my knowledge ; even then 
 when I could trace no footstep in the way I went; 
 nor that I think to win upon your apprehensions with 
 numbers and witlj names, rather than with reasons ; 
 
164 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER, 
 
 yet certainly the worst of my detractors will not except 
 against so g-ood a bail of my integrity and judgment, 
 as now appears for me. They must else put in the 
 fame of Bucer and of Fagius, as my accomplices and 
 confederates, into the same indictment; they must dig 
 up the good name of these prime worthies, (if their 
 names could be ever buried,) they must dig them up 
 and brand them as the papists did their bodies ; and 
 those their pure unblamable spirits, which lire not 
 only in heaven, but in their writings, they must attaint 
 with new attaintures, which no protestant ever before 
 aspersed them with. Or if perhaps we may obtain to 
 get onr appcachment new drawn a writ of errour, not 
 of libertinism, that those two principal readers of refor- 
 mation may not now come to be sued in a bill of 
 licence, to the scandal of our church ; the brief result 
 will be, that for the errour, if their own works be not 
 thought sufficient to defend them, their lives yet, who 
 will be ready, in a fair and christianly discussive way, 
 
 to debate and sift this matter to the utmost ounce of 
 learning and religion, in him that shall lay it as an 
 errour, either upon Martin Bucer, or any other of bis 
 opinion. If this be not enough to qualify my tra- 
 ducers, and that they think it more for the wisdom of their 
 virulence, not to recant the injuries they have bespoke 
 me, I shall not, for much more disturbance than they 
 can bring me, intermit the prosecution of those 
 thoughts, which may render me best serviceable, cither 
 to this age, or, if it so happen, to posterity ; following 
 the fair path, which your illustrious exploits, ho- 
 noured lords and commons ! against the breast of 
 tyranny have opened ; and depending so on your 
 happy successes in the hopes that I have conceived 
 either of myself, or of the nation, as must needs 
 conclude me one who most affectionately wishes and 
 awaits the prosperous issue of your noble and valorous 
 counsels. 
 
 John Milton. 
 
 JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER, TOUCHING DIVORCE: 
 
 TAKER OCT OF THE SECOND BOOK ENTITLED, " OF THE KINGDOM OF CHRIST;" WRITTEN BY MARTIN BDCBR TO EDWARD THE 
 
 SIXTH, KING OF FJfGLAND. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Tlie seventh law of the sanctififing and ordering of 
 marriage. That the ordering of marriage belongs 
 to the civil power. That the popes have evaded by 
 fraud and force the ordering of marriage. 
 
 Besides these things, Christ our king, and his 
 churches, require from your sacred majesty, that you 
 would take upon you the just care of marriages. For 
 it is unspeakable how many good consciences are 
 hereby entangled, afflicted, and in danger, because 
 there are no just laws, no speedy way constituted ac- 
 cording to God's word, touching this holy society and 
 fountain of mankind. For seeing matrimony is a civil 
 thing, men, that they may rightly contract, inviolably 
 keep, and not without extreme necessity dissolve mar- 
 riage, are not only to be taught by the doctrine and 
 discipline of the church, but also are to be acquitted, 
 aided, and compelled by laws and judicature of the 
 commonwealth. Which thing pious emperoi-s acknow- 
 ledging, and therein framing themselves to the law of 
 nations, gave laws both of contracting and preserving, 
 and also where an unhappy need required, of divorcing 
 marriages. As may be seen in the code of Justinian, 
 
 the 5th book, from the beginning through twenty-four 
 titles. And in the authentic of Justinian the 22d, and 
 some others. 
 
 But the Antichrists of Rome, to get the imperial 
 power into their own hands, first by fraudulent persua- 
 sion, afterwards by force, drew to themselves the whole 
 authority of determining and judging as well in matri- 
 monial causes, as in most other matters. Therefore it 
 hath been long believed, that the care and government 
 thereof doth not belong to the civil magistrate. Yet 
 where the gospel of Christ is received, the laws of An- 
 tichrist should be rejected. If therefore kings and go- 
 vernors take not this care, by the power of law and 
 justice, to provide that marriages be piously contracted, 
 religiously kept, and lawfully dissolved, if need require, 
 who sees not what confusion and trouble is brought 
 upon this holy society ; and what a rack is prepared, 
 even for many of the best consciences, while they have 
 no certain laws to follow, no justice to implore, if any 
 intolerable thing happen ? And how much it concerns 
 the honour and safety of the commonwealth, that mar- 
 riages, .iccording to the will of Christ, be made, main- 
 tained, and not without just cause dissolved, who. 
 understands not? For unless that first and holiesi 
 society of man and woman he purely constituted, th 
 
 
CONCERNING DIVORCE. 
 
 IG5 
 
 household discipline may be upheld by them according 
 to God's law, how can we expect a race of good men ? 
 Let your majesty therefore know, that this is your 
 duty, and in the first place, to reassume to yourself the 
 just ordering of matrimony, and by firm laws to 
 establish and defend the religion of this first and divine 
 society among men, as all wise lawgivers of old, and 
 christian emperors, have carefully done. 
 
 The two next chapters, because they chiefly treat 
 about the degrees of consanguinity and affinity, I omit ; 
 only setting down a passage or two concerning theju- 
 dicial laws of Moses, how fit they be for Christians to 
 imitate rather than any other. 
 
 CHAP. XVII, towards the end. 
 
 I CONFESS that we, being free in Christ, are not 
 bound to the civil laws of Moses in every circumstance ; 
 yet seeing no laws can be more honest, just, and whole- 
 some, than those which God himself gave, who is eter- 
 nal wisdom and goodness, I see not why Christians, in 
 things which no less appertain to them, ought not to 
 follow the laws of God, rather than of any men. We 
 are not to use circumcision, sacrifice, and those bodily 
 washings prescribed to the Jews ; yet by these things 
 we may rightly learn, with what purity and devotion 
 both baptism and the Lord's supper should be ad- 
 ministered and received. How much more is it our duty 
 to observe diligently what the Lord hath commanded, 
 and taught by the examples of his people concerning 
 mairiage, whereof we have the use no less than they ! 
 
 And because this same worthy author hath another 
 passage to this purpose, in his comment upon Matthew, 
 chap. v. 19, I here insert it from p. ^16. 
 
 Since we have need of civil laws, and the power of 
 punishing, it will be wisest not to contemn those 
 given by Moses; but seriously rather to consider 
 what the meaning of God was in them, what he chiefly 
 required, and how much it might be to the good of 
 every nation, if they would borrow thence their man- 
 ner of governing the commonwealth ; yet freely all 
 things and with the Spirit of Christ. For what Solon, 
 or Plato, or Aristotle, what lawyens or Csesars could 
 make better laws than God ? And it is no light argu- 
 ment, that many magistrates at this day do not enough 
 acknowledge the kingdom of Christ, though they 
 would seem most christian, in that they govern their 
 states by laws so diverse from those of Moses. 
 
 The 18th chapter I only mention as determining a 
 thing not here in question, that marriage without con- 
 sent of parents ought not to be held good ; yet with 
 this qualification fit to be known. 
 
 That if parents admit not the honest desires of their 
 children, but shall persist to abuse the power they have 
 over them ; they are to be mollified by admonitions, 
 entreaties, and persuasions, first of their friends and 
 kindred, next of the church-elders. Whom if still the 
 hard parents refuse to hear, then ought the magistrate 
 to interpose his power : lest any by the evil mind of 
 their parents be detained from marriage longer than is 
 meet, or forced to an unworthy match : in whicli case 
 
 tlie Roman laws also provided. C. de Nupt. 1. 11, 
 13,26. 
 
 CHAP. XIX. 
 
 Whether it may be permitted to revoke the promise of 
 marriage. 
 Here ariseth another question concerning conti'acts, 
 when they ought to be unchangeable? for religious 
 emperors decreed, that the contract was not indissolu- 
 ble, until the spouse were brought home, and the so- 
 lemnities performed. They thought it a thing un- 
 worthy of divine and human equity, and the due con- 
 sideration of man's infirmity in deliberating and de- 
 termining, when space is given to renounce other con- 
 tracts of much less moment, which arc not yet con- 
 firmed before the magistrate, to deny that to the most 
 weighty contract of marriage, which requires the great- 
 est care and consultation. Yet lest such a covenant 
 should be broken for no just cause, and to the injury 
 of that person to whom marriage was promised, they 
 decreed a fine, that he who denied marriage to whom 
 he had promised, and for some cause not approved by 
 the judges, should pay the double of that pledge which 
 was given at making sure, or as much as the judge 
 should pronounce might satisfy the damage, or the 
 hinderance of either party. It being most certain, 
 that ofttimes after contract just and honest causes of 
 departing from promise come to be known and found 
 out, it cannot be other than the duty of pious princes, 
 to give men the same liberty of unpromising in these 
 cases, as pious emperors granted: especially where 
 there is only a promise, and not carnal knowledge. 
 And as there is no true marriage between them, who 
 agree not in true consent of mind ; so it will be the 
 part of godly magistrates, to procure that no matri- 
 mony be among their subjects, but what is knit with 
 love and consent. And though your majesty be not 
 bound to the imperial laws, yet it is the duty of a 
 christian king, to embrace and follow whatever he 
 knows to be any where piously and justly constituted, 
 and to be honest, just, and well-pleasing to his people. 
 But why in God's law and the examples of his saints 
 nothing hereof is read, no marvel ; seeing his ancient 
 people had power, yea a precept, that whoso could not 
 bend his mind to the true love oi his wife, should give 
 her a bill of divorce, and send her from him, though 
 after carnal knowledge and long dwelling together. 
 This is enough to authorize a godly prince in that in- 
 dulgence which he gives to the changing of a con- 
 tract; both because it is certainly the invention of 
 Antichrist, that the promise of marriage de praesenti, 
 as they call it, should be indissoluble, and because it 
 should be a prince's care, that matrimony be so joined, 
 as God ordained ; which is, that every one should love 
 his wife with such a love as Adam expressed to Eve : 
 so as we may hope, that they who marry may become 
 one flesh, and one also in the Lord. 
 
 CHAP. XX. 
 
 Concerns only the celebration of marriage. 
 
1G6 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER, 
 
 CHAP. XXI. 
 
 The means of preserving marriage holy and pure. 
 
 Now since there ought not to be less care, that mar- 
 riage be relig-iously kept, than that it be piously and 
 deliberately contracted, it will be meet, tliat to every 
 church be ordained certain grave and godly men, who 
 may have this care upon them, to observe whether the 
 husband bear himself wisely toward the wife, loving, 
 and inciting lier to all piety, and the other duties of 
 this life; and whether the wife be subject to her hus- 
 band, and study to be truly a meet help to him, as first 
 to all godliness, so to every other use of life. And if 
 they shall find each to other failing of their duty, or 
 the one long absent from the other without just and 
 urgent cause, or giving suspicion of irreligious and 
 impure life, or of living in manifest wickedness, let it 
 be admonished them in time. And if their authority 
 be contemned, let the names of such contemners be 
 brought to the magistrate, who may use punishment 
 to compel such violators of marriage to their duty, that 
 they may abstain from all probable suspicion of trans- 
 gressing; and if they admit of suspected company, the 
 magistrate is to forbid them ; whom they not therein 
 obeying, are to be punished as adulterers, according to 
 the law of Justinian, Authent. 1 17. For if holy wed- 
 lock, the fountain and seminary of good subjects, be 
 not vigilantly preserved from all blots and disturbances, 
 what can be hoped, as I said before, of the springing 
 up of good men, and a right reformation of the com- 
 monwealth ? We know it is not enough for Christians 
 to abstain from foul deeds, but from the appearance 
 and suspicion thereof. 
 
 CHAP. XXII. 
 Of lawful divorce, what the ancient churches have 
 thought. 
 Now we shall speak about that dissolving of matri- 
 mony, which may be approved in the sight of God, if 
 any grievous necessity require. In which thing the 
 Roman antichrists have knit many a pernicious entan- 
 glement to distressed consciences : for that they miglit 
 here also exalt themselves above God, as if they would 
 be wiser and chaster than God himself is; for no cause, 
 bonest or necessary, will they permit a final divorce : 
 in the mean while, whoredoms and adulteries, and worse 
 things than these, not only tolerating in themselves 
 and others, but cherishing and throwing men headlong 
 into these evils. For although they also disjoin mar- 
 ried persons from board and bed, that is, from all con- 
 jugal society and communion, and this not only for 
 adultery, but for ill usage, and matrimonial duties de- 
 nied ; yet they forbid those thus parted, to join in wed- 
 lock with others : but, as I said before, any dishonest 
 associating they permit. And they pronounce the 
 bond of marriage to remain between those whom they 
 have thus separated. As if the bond of marriage, God 
 80 teaching and pronouncing, were not such a league 
 as binds the married couple to all society of life, and 
 communion in divine and human things; and so asso- 
 
 ciated keeps them. Something indeed out of the later 
 fathers they may pretend for this their tyranny, especi- 
 ally out of Austria and some others, who were much 
 taken with a preposterous admiration of single life ; 
 yet tiiough these fathers, from the words of Christ not 
 rightly understood, tauj-ht that it was unlawful to 
 marry again, while the former wife lived, whatever 
 cause there had been either of desertion or divorce; yet 
 if we mark the custom of the church, and the common 
 judgment which both in their times and afterward pre- 
 vailed, we shall perceive, that neither these fathers did 
 ever cast out of the church any one for marrying after 
 a divorce, approved by the imperial laws. 
 
 Nor only the first christian emperors, but the latter 
 also, even to Justinian and after him, did grant for 
 certain causes approved by judges, to make a true di- 
 vorce ; which made and confirmed by law, it might be 
 lawful to marry again ; which if it could not have been 
 done without displeasing Christ and his church, surely 
 it would not have been granted by christian emperors, 
 nor had the fathers then winked at those doings in the 
 emperors. Hence ye may sec that Jerome also, though 
 zealous of single life more than enough, and such a 
 condemner of second marriage, though after the death 
 of either party, yet, forced by plain equity, defended 
 Fabiola, a noble matron of Rome, who, having refused 
 her husband for just causes, was married to another. 
 For that the sending of a divorce to her husband was 
 not blameworthy, he affirms because the man was hei' 
 nously vicious ; and that if an adulterer's wife may be 
 discarded, an adulterous husband is not to be kept. 
 But that she married again, while yet her husband was 
 alive ; he defends in that the apostle hath said, " It is 
 better to marry than to burn ;" and that young widows 
 should marry, for such was Fabiola, and could not re- 
 main in widowhood. 
 
 But some one will object, that Jerome there adds, 
 " Neither did she know the vigour of the gospel, wherein 
 all cause of marrying is debarred from women, while 
 their husbands live; and again, while she avoided 
 many wounds of Satan, she received one ere she was 
 aware." But let the equal reader mind also what went 
 before ; " Because," saith he, soon after the beginning, 
 " there is a rock and storm of slanderers opposed before 
 her, I will not praise her converted, unless I first ab- 
 solve her guilty." For why does he call them slander- 
 ers, who accused Fabiola of marrying again, if he did 
 not judge it a matter of christian equity and charity, to 
 pass by and pardon that fact, though in his own opinion 
 he held it a fault ? And what can this mean, " I will 
 not praise her, unless I first absolve her?" For how 
 could he absolve her, but by proving that Fabiola, nei- 
 ther in rejecting her vicious husband, nor in marrying 
 another, had committed such a sin, as could be justly 
 condemned .-' Nay, he proves both by evident reason, 
 and clear testimonies of Scripture, that she avoided sin. j 
 
 This is also hence understood, that Jerome by thej 
 vigour of the gospel, meant that height and perfection] 
 of our Saviour's precept, which might be remitted to] 
 those that burn; for he adds, " But if she be accused^. 
 in that she remained not unmarried, I shall confess the 
 
 11 
 
CONCERNING DIVORCE. 
 
 167 
 
 fault, so I may relate the necessity." If then he ac- 
 knowledged a necessity, as he did, because she was 
 young-, and could not live in widowhood, certainly he 
 could not impute her second marriage to her much 
 blame : but when he excuses her out of the word of 
 God, does he not openly declare his thoughts, that the 
 second marriage of Fabiola was permitted her by the 
 Holy Ghost himself, for the necessity wiiich he suffered, 
 and to shun the danger of fornication, though she went 
 somewhat aside from the vigour of the gospel? But if 
 any urge, that Fabiola did public penance for her 
 second marriage, which was not imposed but for great 
 faults; it is answered, she was not enjoined to this 
 penance, but did it of her own accord, " and not till 
 after her second husband's death." As in the time of 
 Cyprian, we read that many were wont to do voluntary 
 penance for small faults, which were not liable to ex- 
 communication. 
 
 CHAP. XXITI. 
 
 That marriage was granted by the ancient fathers, 
 even after the vow of single life. 
 
 I omit his testimonies out of Cyprian, Gellasius, Epi- 
 phanius, contented only to relate what he thence 
 collects to the present purpose. 
 
 Some will say perhaps, wherefore all this concerning 
 marriage after vow of single life, whenas the question 
 was of marriage after divorce ? For this reason, that 
 they whom it so much moves, because some of the 
 fathers thought marriage after any kind of divorce to 
 be condemned of our Saviour, may sec that this con- 
 clusion follows not. The fathers thought all marriage 
 after divorce to be forbidden of our Saviour, therefore 
 they thought such marriage was not to be tolerated in 
 a Christian. For the same fathers judged it forbidden 
 to marry after vow ; yet such marriages they neither 
 dissolved nor excommunicated : for these words of our 
 Saviour, and of the Holy Ghost, stood in their way ; 
 " All cannot receive this saying, but they to whom it is 
 given. Every one hath his proper gift from God, one 
 after this manner, another after that. It is better to 
 maiTy than to burn. I will that younger widows 
 marry ;" and the like. 
 
 So there are many canons and laws extant, whereby 
 priests, if they married, were removed from their office, 
 jet is it not read that their marriage was dissolved, as 
 the papists now-a-days do, or that they were excommu- 
 nicated, nay expressly they might communicate as lay- 
 men. If the consideration of human infirmity, and 
 those testimonies of divine scripture which g^ant mar- 
 riage to every one that wants it, persuaded those fathers 
 to bear themselves so humanely toward them who had 
 married with breach of vow to God, as they believed, 
 and with divorce of that marriage wherein they were 
 in a manner joined to God ; who doubts, but that the 
 same fathers held the like humanity was to be afforded 
 to those, who after divorce and faith broken with men, 
 as they thought, entered into a second marriage ? For 
 among such are also found no less weak, and no less 
 burning. 
 
 CHAP. XXIV. 
 
 Who of the ancient fathers have granted marriage 
 after divorce. 
 
 This is clear both by what hath been said, and by 
 that which Origen relates of certain bishops in his 
 time, Homil. 7, in Matt. " I know some," saith he, 
 "which are over churches, who without Scripture have 
 permitted the wife to marry while her former husband 
 lived. And did this against Scripture, which saith, the 
 wife is bound to her husband so long as he lives ; and 
 she shall be called an adulteress, if, her husband living, 
 she take another man ; yet did they not permit this 
 without cause, perhaps for the infirmity of such as bad 
 not continence, they permitted evil to avoid worse." 
 Ye see Origen and the doctors of his age, not without 
 all cause, permitted women after divorce to marry, 
 though their former husbands were living ; yet writes 
 that they permitted against Scripture. But what cause 
 could they have to do so, unless they thought our Sa- 
 viour in his precepts of divorce had so forbidden, as 
 willing to remit such perfection to his weaker ones, 
 cast into danger of worse faults ? 
 
 The same thought Leo, bishop of Rome, Ep. 85, to 
 the African bishops of Mauritania Caesariensis, wherein 
 complaining of a certain priest, who divorcing his wife, 
 or being divorced by her, as other coj)ies have it, had 
 married another, neither dissolves the matrimony, nor 
 excommunicates him, only unpricsts him. The fathers 
 therefore, as we see, did not simply and wholly con- 
 demn marriage after divorce. 
 
 But as for me, this remitting of our Saviour's pre- 
 cepts, which these ancients allow to the infirm in marry- 
 ing after vow and divorce, I can in no ways admit; 
 forwhatsoever plainly consents not with the command- 
 ment, cannot, I am certain, be permittetl, or suffered in 
 any Christian : for heaven and earth shall pass away, 
 but not a tittle from the commandments of God among 
 them who expect life eternal. Let us therefore con- 
 sider, and weigh the words of our Lord concerning 
 marriage and divorce, which he pronounced both by 
 himself, and by his apostle, and let us compare them 
 with other oracles of God ; for whatsoever is contrary 
 to these, I shall not persuade the least tolerating 
 thereof But if it can be taught to agree with the 
 wort! of God, yea to be commanded, that most men 
 may have permission given them to divorce and marry 
 again, I must prefer the authority of God's word be- 
 fore the opinion of fathers and doctors, as they them- 
 selves teach. 
 
 CHAP. XXV. 
 
 The words of our Lord, and of the Holy Ghost, by the 
 Apostle Paul concerning divorce, are explained. The 
 1st Axiom,that Christ could not condemn of adultery, 
 that which he once commanded. 
 
 But the words of our Lord, and of the Holy Ghost, 
 out of which Austin and some others of the fathers 
 think it concluded, that our Saviour forbids marriage 
 
108 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER, 
 
 after any divorce, arc these; Matt. v. 31, 32, " It hath 
 been said," Ace. -. and Matt. xix. 7, " They say unto him, 
 why did Moses then command," &c. : and Mark x. and 
 Luke xvi. Rom. vii. 1, 2, 3, 1 Cor. vii. 10, 11. Hence 
 therefore they conclude, that all marriage after divorce 
 is called adultery; which to commit, being noways to 
 be tolerated in any Christian, they think it follows, that 
 second marriag-e is in no case to be permitted either to 
 the divorcer, or to the divorced. 
 
 But that it may be more fully and plainly perceived 
 what force is in this kind of reasoning, it will be the 
 best course, to lay down certain grounds whereof no 
 Christian can doubt the truth. First, it is a wickedness 
 to suspect, that our Saviour branded that for adultery, 
 which himself, in his own law which he came to fulfil, 
 and not to dissolve, did not only permit, but also com- 
 mand ; for by him, the only mediator, was the whole 
 law of God given. But that by this law of God mar- 
 riage was permitted after any divorce, is certain by 
 Deut. xxiv. I. 
 
 CHAP. XXVI. 
 
 That God in hii law did not only grant, but also com- 
 mand divorce to certain men. 
 Deut. xxiv. 1, "When a man hath taken a wife," 
 &c. But in Mai. ii. 15, 16, is read the Lord's com- 
 mand to put her away whom a man hates, in these 
 words : " Take heed to your spirit, and let none deal 
 injuriously against the wife of his youth. If he hate, 
 let him put away, saith the Lord God of Israel. And 
 he shall hide thy violence with his garment," that mar- 
 ries her divorced by thee, " saith the Lord of hosts ; 
 but take heed to your spirit, and do no injury." By 
 these testimonies of the divine law, we see, that the 
 Lord did not only permit, but also expressly and ear- 
 nestly commanded his people, by whom he would that 
 all holiness and faith of marriage covenant should be 
 observed, that he, who could not induce his mind to 
 love his wife with a true conjugal love, might dismiss 
 her, that she might marry to another. 
 
 CHAP. XXVII. 
 
 That what the Lord permitted and commanded to 
 his ancient people concerning divorce belongs also to 
 Christians. 
 
 Now what the Ix)rd permitted to his first-bom peo- 
 ple, that certainly he could not forbid to his own among 
 the Gentiles, whom he made coheirs, and into one body 
 with his people ; nor could he ever permit, much less 
 command, aught that was not good for them, at least 
 so used as he commanded. For being God, he is not 
 changed as man. Which thing who seriously con- 
 siders, how can he imagine, that God would make 
 that wicked to them that believe, and serve him under 
 grace, which he granted and commanded to them that 
 served him under the law ? Whenas the same causes 
 require the same permission. And who that knows 
 but human matters, and loves the truth, will deny that 
 many marriages hang as ill together now, as ever they 
 
 • Matthew v. it. 
 
 did among the Jews ? So that such marriages are liker 
 to torments than true marriages. As therefore the 
 Lord doth always succour and help the oppressed, so 
 he would ever have it provided for injured husbands 
 and wives, that under pretence of the marriage bond, 
 they be not sold to perpetual vexations, instead of the 
 loving and comfortable marriage duties. And lastly, 
 as God doth always detest hypocrisy and fraud, so nei- 
 ther doth he approve that among his people, that 
 should be counted marriage, wherein none of those 
 duties remain, whereby the league of wedlock is 
 chiefly preserved. What inconsiderate neglect then of 
 God's law is this, that I may not call it worse, to hold 
 that Christ our Lord would not grant the same reme- 
 dies both of divorce and second marriage to the weak, 
 or to the evil, if they will needs have it so, but espe- 
 cially to the innocent and wronged ; whenas the same 
 urgent causes remain as before, when the discipline of 
 the church and magistrate bath tried what may be tried ? 
 
 CHAP. XXVIII. 
 
 That our Lord Christ intended not to make new laws 
 of marriage and divorce, or of any civil matters. 
 Axiom 2. 
 
 It is agreed by all who determine of the kingdom 
 and offices of Christ by the Holy Scriptures, as all 
 godly men ought to do, that our Saviour upon earth 
 took not on him either to give new laws in civil affairs, 
 or to change the old. But it is certain, that matri- 
 mony and divorce are civil things. Which the chris- 
 tian emperors knowing, gave conjugal laws, and re- 
 served the administration of them to their own courts ; 
 which no true ancient bishop ever condemned. 
 
 Our Saviour came to preach repentance and remis- 
 sion : seeing therefore those, who put away their wives 
 without any just cause, were not touched with con- 
 science of the sin, through misunderstanding of the 
 law, he recalled them to a right interpretation, and 
 taught, that the woman in the beginning was so joined 
 to the man, that there should be a perpetual union 
 both in body and spirit : where this is not, the matri- 
 mony is already broke, before there be yet any divorce 
 made, or second marriage. 
 
 CHAP. XXIX. 
 
 That it is wicked to strain the words of Christ beyond 
 their purpose. 
 
 This is bis third Axiom, whereof there needs no ex- 
 plication here. 
 
 CHAP. XXX. 
 
 That all places of Scripture about the same thing are 
 to be joined, and compared, to avoid contradictions. 
 Axiom 4. 
 
 This he demonstrates at large out of sundry places in 
 the gospel, and principally by that precept against 
 swearing,* which, compared with many places of the 
 law and prophets, is a flat contradiction of them all, 
 
CONCERNING DIVORCE. 
 
 169 
 
 if we follow superstitiously the letter. Then having 
 repeated briefly his four axioms, he thus proceeds. 
 These things thus preadmonished, let us inquire 
 what the undoubted meaning is of our Saviour's words, 
 and inquire according to the rule which is observed by 
 all learned and good men in their expositions ; that 
 praying first to God, who is the only opener of our 
 hearts, we may first with fear and reverence consider 
 well the words of our Saviour touching this question. 
 Next, that we may compare them with all other places 
 of Scripture treating of this matter, to see how they con- 
 sent with our Saviour's words, and those of his apostle. 
 
 CHAP. XXXI. 
 
 This chapter disputes against Austin and the pa- 
 pists, who deny second marriage even to them who di- 
 vorce in case of adultery ; which because it is not con- 
 troverted among true protestants, but that the inno- 
 cent person is easily allowed to marry, I spare the 
 translating. 
 
 CHAP. XXXII. 
 
 That a manifest adulteress ought to be divorced, and 
 cannot lawfully be retained in marriage by any true 
 Christian. 
 
 This though he prove sufficiently, yet I let pass, 
 because this question was not handled in the Doctrine 
 and Discipline of Divorce ; to which book I bring so 
 much of this treatise as runs parallel. 
 
 CHAP. XXXIII. 
 That adultery is to be punished with death. 
 
 This chapter also I omit for the reason last alleged. 
 
 CHAP. XXXIV. 
 
 That it is lauful for a wife to leave an adulterer, and 
 to marry another husband. 
 
 This is generally granted, and therefore excuses me 
 the writing out. 
 
 CHAP. XXXV. 
 
 Places in the writings of the apostle Paul, touching 
 divorce, explained. 
 
 Let us consider the answers of the Lord g^ven by 
 the apostle severally. Concerning the first, which is 
 Rom. vii. 1, " Know ye not, brethren, for I speak to 
 them that know the law, &c. Ver. 2, The woman is 
 bound by the law to her husband so long as he liveth." 
 Here it is certain, that the Holy Ghost had no purpose 
 to determine aught of marriage, or divorce, but only to 
 bring an example from the common and ordinary law 
 of wedlock, to shew, that as no covenant holds either 
 party being dead, so now that we are not bound to the 
 law, but to Christ our Lord, seeing that through him 
 we are dead to sin, and to the law ; and so joined to 
 Christ, that we may bring forth fruit in him from a 
 willing godliness, and not by the compulsion of law, 
 whereby our sins are more excited, and become more 
 violent. What therefore the Holy Spirit here speaks of 
 
 matrimony cannot be extended beyond the general 
 rule. 
 
 Besides it is manifest, that the apostle did allege the 
 law of wedlock, as it was delivered to the Jews ; for, 
 saith he, " I speak to them that know the law." They 
 knew no law of God, but that by Moses, which plainly 
 grants divorce for several reasons. It cannot therefore 
 be said, that the apostle cited this general example out 
 of the law, to abolish the several exceptions of that law, 
 which God himself granted by giving authority to 
 divorce. 
 
 Next, when the apostle brings an example out of 
 God's law concerning man and wife, it must be neces- 
 sary, that we understand such for man and wife, as are 
 so indeed according to the same law of God ; that is, 
 who are so disposed, as that they are both willing and 
 able to perform the necessary duties of marriage ; not 
 those who, under a false title of marriage, keep them- 
 selves mutually bound to injuries and disgraces ; for 
 such twain are nothing less than lawful man and wife. 
 
 The like answer is to be given to all other places 
 both of the gospel and the apostle, that whatever ex- 
 ception may be proved out of God's law, be not ex- 
 cluded from those places. For the Spirit of God doth 
 not condemn things formerly granted and allowed, 
 where there is like cause and reason. Hence Am- 
 brose, upon that place, 1 Cor. vii. 16, " A brother or a 
 sister is not under bondage in such cases," thus ex- 
 pounds ; " The reverence of marriage is not due to 
 him who abhors the author of marriage; nor is that 
 marriage ratified, which is without devotion to God: 
 he sins not therefore, who is put away for God's 
 cause, though he join himself to another. For the 
 dishonour of the Creator dissolves the right of matri- 
 mony to him who is deserted, that he be not accused, 
 though marrying to another. The faith of wedlock is 
 not to be kept with him who departs, that he might 
 not hear the God of Christians to be the author of wed- 
 lock. For if Ezra caused the misbelieving wives and 
 husbands to be divorced, that God might be appeased, 
 and not offended, though they took others of their own 
 faith, how much more shall it be free, if the misbe- 
 liever depart, to marry one of our own religion. For 
 this is not to be counted matrimony, which is against 
 the law of God." 
 
 Two things are here to be observed toward the fol- 
 lowing discourse, which truth itself and the force of 
 God's word hath drawn from this holy man. For 
 those words are very large, " Matrimony is not rati- 
 fied, without devotion to God." And " the dishonour 
 of the Creator dissolves the right of matrimony." For 
 devotion is far off, and dishonour is done to God by all 
 who persist in any wickedness and heinous crime. 
 
 CHAP. XXXVI. 
 
 That although it seem in the Gospel, as if our Saviour 
 granted divorce only for adultery, yet in very deed 
 he granted it for other causes also. 
 
 Now is to be dealt with this question, whether it 
 be lawful to divorce and marry again for other causes 
 
170 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER, 
 
 besides adultery, since our Saviour expressed that only ? 
 To this question, if we retain our principles already 
 laid, and must acknowledge it to be a cursed blas- 
 phemy, if we say that the words of God do contradict 
 one another, of necessity we must confess, thjit our 
 Lord did gfrant divorce, and marriag^e after that, for 
 other causes besides adultery, notwithstanding what 
 he said in Matthew. For first, they who consider hut 
 only that place, 1 Cor. vii. which treats of believers 
 and misbelievers matched togetlier, must of force con- 
 fess. That our Lord granted just divorce and second 
 marriage in the cause of desertion, which is other than 
 the cause of fornication. And if there be one other 
 cause found lawful, then is it most true, that divorce 
 was granted not only for fornication. 
 
 Next, it cannot be doubted, as I shewed before, by 
 them to whom it is given to know God and his judg- 
 ments out of his own word, but that, what means of 
 peace and safety God ever granted and ordained to his 
 elected people, the same he grants and ordains to men 
 of all ages, who have equally need of the same reme- 
 dies. And who, that is but a knowing man, dares say 
 there be not husbands and wives now to be found in 
 such a hardness of heart, that they will not perform 
 either conjugal affection, or any requisite duty thereof, 
 though it be most deserved at their hands ? 
 
 Neither can any one defer to confess, but that God, 
 whose property it is to judge the cause of them that 
 suffer injury, hath provided for innocent and honest 
 persons wedded, how they might free themselves by 
 lawful means of divorce, from the bondage and iniquity 
 of those who are falsely termed their husbands or their 
 wives. This is clear out of Deut. xxiv. 1 ; Malachi ii. ; 
 Matt. xix. 1 ; 1 Cor. vii. ; and out of those principles, 
 which the Scripture every where teaches, that God 
 changes not his mind, dissents not from himself, is no 
 accepter of persons ; but allows the same remedies to 
 all men oppressed with the same necessities and infirm- 
 ities ; yea, requires that we should use them. This he 
 will easily perceive, who considers these things in the 
 Spirit of the Lord. 
 
 Lastly, it is most certain, that the Lord hath com- 
 manded us to obey the civil laws, every one of his own 
 commonwealth, if they be not against the laws of God. 
 
 CHAP. XXXVII. 
 
 For what causes divorce is permitted by the civil law 
 ex I. Consensu Codic. de Repudiis. 
 
 It is also manifest, that the law of Theodosius and 
 Valentinian, which begins " Consensu," &c. touching 
 divorce, and many other decrees of pious emperors 
 agreeing herewith, are not contrary to the word of 
 God ; and therefore may be recalled into use by any 
 christian prince or commonwealth ; nay, ought to be 
 with due respect had to every nation : for whatsoever 
 is equal and just, that in every thing is to be sought 
 and used by Christians. Hence it is plain, that divorce 
 is granted by divine approbation, both to husbands and 
 to wives, if either party can convict the other of these 
 following offences before the magistrate. 
 
 If the husband can prove the wife to he an adulteress, 
 a witch, a murderess; to have bought or sold to slavery 
 any one freeborn, to have violated sepulchres, commit- 
 ted sacrilege, favoured thieves and robbers, desirous of 
 feasting with strangers, the husband not knowing, or 
 not willing ; if she lodge forth without a just and pro- 
 bable cause, or frequent theatres and sights, he forbid- 
 ding; if she be privy with those that plut against the 
 state, or if she deal falsely, or offer blows. And if the 
 wife can prove her husband guilty of any those fore- 
 named crimes, and frequent the company of lewd 
 women in her sight; or if he heat her, she had the like 
 liberty to quit herself; with this difference, that the 
 man after divorce might forthwith marry again ; the 
 woman not till a year after, lest she might chance to 
 have conceived. 
 
 CHAP. XXXVIII. 
 
 An exposition of those places wherein God declares the 
 nature of holy wedlock. 
 
 Now to the end it may be seen, that this agrees with 
 the divine law, the first institution of marriage is to be 
 considered, and those texts in which God established 
 the joining of male and female, and described the 
 duties of them both. When God had determined to 
 make woman, and give her as a wife to man, he spake 
 thus. Gen. ii. 18, " It is not good for man to be alone, 
 I will make him a help meet for him. And Adam said," 
 but in the Spirit of God, v. 23, 24, " This is now bone 
 of my bone, and flesh of my flesh : Therefore shall a 
 man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave to 
 his wife, and they shall be one flesh." 
 
 To this first institution did Christ recall his own ; 
 when answering the Pharisees, he condemned the 
 licence of unlawful divorce. He taught therefore by 
 his example, that we, according to this first institution, 
 and what God hath spoken thereof, ought to determine 
 what kind of covenant marriage is, how to be kept, and 
 how far; and lastly, for what causes to be dissolved. 
 To which decrees of God these also are to be joined, 
 which the Holy Ghost hath taught by his apostle, that > 
 neither the husband nor the wife " hath power of their i 
 own body, but mutually each of cither's." That " theJ 
 husband shall love the wife as his own body, yea as , 
 Christ loves his church ; and that the wife ought to be 
 subject to her husband, as the church is to Christ." 
 
 By these things the nature of holy wedlock is cer- 
 tainly known ; whereof if only one be wanting in both 
 or either party, and that either by obstinate malevo- 
 lence, or too deep inbred weakness of mind, or lastly, ' 
 through incurable impotence of body, it cannot then 
 be said, that the covenant of matrimony holds good 
 between such ; if we mean that covenant, which God 
 instituted and called marriage, and that whereof only 
 it must be understood that our Saviour said, " Those 
 whom God hath joined, let no man separate." 
 
 And hence is concluded, that matrimony requires 
 continual cohabitation and living together, unless the _ 
 calling of God be otherwise evident; which union if 
 the parties themselves disjoin either by mutual consent, 
 
CONCERNING DIVORCE. 
 
 171 
 
 or one against the other's will depart, the marriage is 
 then broken. Wherein the papists, as in other things, 
 oppose themselves against God ; while thej separate 
 for many causes from bed and board, and yet will have 
 the bond of matrimony remain, as if this covenant 
 could be other than the conjunction and communion 
 not only of bed and board, but of all other loving and 
 helpful duties. This we may see in these words ; " I 
 will make him a help meet for him ; bone of his bone, 
 and flesh of his flesh : for this cause shall he leave 
 father and mother, and cleave to his wife, and they 
 twain shall be one flesh." By which words who dis- 
 cerns not, that God requires of them both so to live to- 
 gether, and to be united not only in body but in mind 
 also, with such an affection as none may be dearer and 
 more ardent among all the relations of mankind, nor 
 of more efficacy to the mutual offices of love and loy- 
 alty.'* They must communicate and consent in all things 
 both divine and human, whicli have any moment to well 
 and happy living. The wife must honour and obey 
 bar husband, as the church honours and obeys Christ 
 her head. The husband must love and cherish his 
 wife, as Christ his church. Thus they must be to each 
 other, if they will be true man and wife in the sight of 
 God, whom certainly the churches ought to follow in 
 their judgment. Now the proper and ultimate end of 
 marriage is not copulation, or children, for then there 
 was not true matrimony between Joseph and Mary the 
 mother of Christ, nor between many holy persons more ; 
 but the full and proper and main end of marriage is 
 the communicating of all duties, both divine and hu- 
 man, each to other with utmost benevolence and affec- 
 tion. 
 
 CHAP. XXXIX. 
 
 The properties of a true and christian marriage more 
 distinctly repeated. 
 
 By which definition we may know, that God esteems 
 and reckons upon these four necessary properties to be 
 in every true marriage. 1. That they should live to- 
 gether, unless the calling of God require otherwise for 
 a time. 2. That they should love one another to the 
 height of dearness, and that in the Lord, and in the 
 communion of true religion. 3. Tiiat the husband bear 
 himself as the head and preserver of his wife, instruct- 
 ing her to all godliness and integrity of life ; that the 
 wife also be to her husband a help, according to her place, 
 especially furthering him in the true worship of God, 
 and next in all the occasions of civil life. And 4. That 
 they defraud not each other of conjugal benevolence, 
 as the apostle commands, I Cor. vii. Hence it follows, 
 according to the sentence of God, which all Christians 
 ought to be ruled by, that between those who, either 
 through obstinacy, or helpless inability, cannot or will 
 not perform these repeated duties, between thos2 there 
 can be no true matrimony, nor ought they to be C3uuted 
 man and wife. 
 
 CHAP. XL. 
 
 Whether those crimes recited chap, xxxvii. out of the 
 civil law, dissolve matrimony in God's account. 
 
 Now if a husband or wife be found guilty of any of 
 those crimes, which by the law " consensu" are made 
 causes of divorce, it is manifest, that such a man can- 
 not be the head and preserver of his wife, nor such a 
 woman be a meet help to her husband, as the divine 
 law in true wedlock requires ; for these faults are pu- 
 nished either by death, or deportation, or extreme in- 
 famy, which are directly opposite to the covenant of 
 marriage. If they deserve death, as adultery and the 
 like, doubtless God would not that any should live in 
 wedlock with them whom he would not have to live at 
 all. Or if it be not death, but the incurring of noto- 
 rious infamy, certain it is neither just, nor expedient, 
 nor meet, that an honest man should be coupled with 
 an infamous woman, nor an honest matron with an in- 
 famous man. The wise Roman princes had so great 
 a regard to the equal honour of either wedded person, 
 that they counted those marriages of no force, which 
 were made between the one of good repute, and the 
 other of evil note. How much more will all honest 
 regard of christian expedience and comeliness beseem 
 and concern those who are set free and dignified in 
 Christ, than it could the Roman senate, or their sons, 
 for whom that law was provided ? 
 
 And this all g<»dly men will soon apprehend, that 
 he who ought to be the head and preserver not only of 
 his wife, hut also of his children and family, as Christ 
 is of his church, had need be one of honest name : so 
 likewise the wife, which is to be the meet help of an 
 honest and good man, the mother of an honest offspring 
 and family, the glory of the man, even as the man is 
 the glory of Christ, should not be tainted with igno- 
 miny ; as neither of them can avoid to be, having been 
 justly appeached of those forenamed crimes ; and there- 
 fore cannot be worthy to hold their place in a christian 
 family : yea, they themselves turn out themselves and 
 dissolve that holy covenant. And they who are true 
 brethren and sisters in the Lord are no more in bondage 
 to such violators of marriage. 
 
 But here the patrons of wickedness and dissolvers of 
 christian discipline will object, that it is the part of 
 man and wife to bear one another's cross, whether in 
 calamity or infamy, that they may gain each other, if 
 not to a good name, yet to repentance and amendment. 
 But they who thus object, seek the impunity of wick- 
 edness, and the favour of wicked men, not the duties 
 of true charity ; which prefers public honesty before 
 private interest, and had rather the remedies of whole- 
 some punishment appointed by God should be in use, 
 than that by remissness the licence of evil doing should 
 increase. For if they who, by committing such of- 
 fences, have made void the holy knot of marriage, be 
 capable of repentance, they will be sooner moved when 
 due punishment is executed on them, than when it is 
 remitted. 
 
 We must ever beware, lest, in contriving what will 
 
172 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER, 
 
 be best for the soul's health of delinquents, we make 
 ourselves wiser and discreeter than God. He that re- 
 ligiously weighs his oracles concerning marriage, can- 
 not doubt that they, who have committed the foresaid 
 transgressions, have lost the right of matrimony, and 
 are unworthy to hold their dignity in an honest and 
 christian family. 
 
 But if any husband or wife see such signs of repent- 
 ance in their transgressor, as that they doubt not t(» re- 
 gain them by continuing with them, and partaking of 
 their miseries and attaintures, they may be left to their 
 own hopes, and their own mind ; saving ever the right 
 of church and commonwealth, that it receive no scandal 
 by the neglect of due severity, and their children no 
 harm by this inviution to licence, and want of good 
 education. 
 
 From all these considerations, if they be thought on, 
 as in the presence of God, and out of his word, any 
 one may perceive, who desires to determine of these 
 things by the Scripture, that those causes of lawful 
 divorce, which the most religious emperors Theodosius 
 and Valentinian set forth in the forecited place, arc ac- 
 cording to the law of God, and the prime institution of 
 marriage ; and were still more and more straitened, as 
 the church and state of the empire still more and more 
 corrupted and degenerated. Therefore pious princes 
 and commonwealths both may and ought establish 
 them again, if they have a mind to restore the honour, 
 sanctity, and religion of holy wedlock to their people, 
 and disentangle many consciences from a miserable 
 and perilous condition, to a chaste and honest life. 
 
 To those recited causes wherefore a wife might send 
 a divorce to her husband, Justinian added four more, 
 Constit. 1 17 ; and four more, for which a man might 
 put away his wife. Three other causes were added in 
 the Code " de repudiis, 1. Jubemus." All which causes 
 are so clearly contrary to the first intent of marriage, 
 that they plainly dissolve it. I set them not down, 
 being easy to be found in the body of the civil law. 
 
 It was permitted also by christian emperors, that 
 they who would divorce by mutual consent, might with- 
 out impediment. Or if there were any difficulty at 
 all in it, the law expresses the reason, that it was 
 only in favour of tlie children ; so that if there were 
 none, the law of those godly emperors made no other 
 difficulty of a divorce by consent. Or if any were 
 minded without consent of the other to divorce, and 
 without those causes which have been named, the 
 christian emperors laid no other punishment upon them, 
 than that the husband wrongfully divorcing his wife 
 should give back her dowry, and the use of that which 
 was called " Donatio propter nuptias;" or if there were 
 no dowry nor no donation, that he should then give 
 her the fourth part of his goods. The like penalty 
 was inflicted on the wife departing without just cause. 
 But that they who were once married should be com- 
 pelled to remain so ever against their wills, was not 
 exacted. Wherein those pious princes followed the 
 law of God in Deut. xxiv. 1, and his express charge 
 by the prophet Malachi, to dismiss from him the wife 
 whom be bates. For God never meant in marriage to 
 
 give to man a perpetual torment instead of a meet 
 help. Neither can God approve, that to the violation 
 of this holy league (whicii is violated as soon as true 
 affection ceases and is lost) should be added murder, 
 which is already committed by eitiier of them who re- 
 solvedly hates the other, as I shewed out of 1 John iii. 
 15, " Whoso hateth his brother, is a murderer." 
 
 CHAP. XLI. 
 
 Whether the husband or wife deserted 
 to another. 
 
 may marry 
 
 I 
 
 The wife's desertion of her husband the christian 
 emperors plainly decreed to be a just cause of divorce, 
 whenas they granted him the right thereof, if she had 1 
 but lain out one night against his will without probable * 
 cause. But of the man deserting his wife they did not 
 so determine : yet if we look into the word of God, we 
 shall find, that he who though but for a year without 
 just cause forsakes his wife, and neither provides for 
 her maintenance, nor signifies his purpose of returning, 
 and good will towards her, whenas he may, hath for- 
 feited his right in her so forsaken. For the Spirit of j 
 God speaks plainly, that both man and wife have such I 
 power over one another's person, as that they cannot 
 deprive each other of living together, but by consent, 
 and for a time. 
 
 Hither n)ay be added, that the Holy Spirit grants 
 desertion to be a cause of divorce, in those answers 
 given to the Corinthians concerning a brother or sister 
 deserted by a misbeliever. " If he depart, let him de-\ 
 part, a brother or a sister is not under bondage in suchi 
 cases." In which words, who sees not that the Holy| 
 Ghost openly pronounced, that the party without] 
 cause deserted is not bound for another's wilful de-- 
 sertion, to abstain from marriage, if he have need 
 thereof.^ 
 
 But some will say, that this is spoken of a misbe- 
 liever departing. But I beseech ye, doth not he reject 
 the faith of Christ in his deeds, who rashly breaks the 
 holy covenant of wedlock instituted by God.^* And 
 besides this, the Holy Spirit does not make the misbe- 
 lieving of him who departs, but the departing of him 
 who disbelieves, to be the just cause of freedom to 
 the brother or sister. 
 
 Since therefore it will be agreed among Christians, 
 that they who depart from wedlock without just cause, 
 do not only deny the faith of matrimony, but of Christ 
 also, whatever they profess with their mouths; it is but 
 reason to conclude, that the party deserted is not bound 
 in case of causeless desertion, but that he may lawfully 
 seek another consort, if it be needful to him, toward a 
 pure and blameless conversation. 
 
 CHAP. XLII. 
 
 The impotence of body, leprosy, madness, &fc. are just 
 causes oj" divorce. 
 
 Of this, because it was not disputed in the Doctrine 
 and Discipline of Divorce, him that would know fur- 
 ther, I commend to the Latin original. 
 
CONCERNING DIVORCE. 
 
 173 
 
 CHAP. XLIII. 
 
 That to grant divorce for all the causes tvhich have beeti 
 hitherto brought, disagrees not from the words of 
 Christ, naming only the cause of adultery. 
 
 Now we must see how these things can stand with 
 the words of our Saviour, who seems directly to forbid 
 all divorce except it be for adultery. To the under- 
 standing whereof, we must ever remember this : That 
 in the words of our Saviour there can be no contrariety: 
 That his words and answers are not to be stretched be- 
 yond the question proposed : That our Saviour did not 
 there purpose to treat of all the causes for which it 
 might be lawful to divorce and marry again ; for then 
 that in the Corinthians of marrying again without 
 guilt of adultery could not be added. That it is not 
 good for that man to be alone, who hath not the spe- 
 cial gift from above. That it is good for every such one 
 to be married, that he may shun fornication. 
 
 With regard to these principles, let us see what our 
 Lord answered to the tempting Pharisees about divorce, 
 and second marriage, and how far his answer doth 
 extend. 
 
 First, no man who is not very contentious will deny, 
 that the Pharisees asked our Ix)rd whether it were 
 lawful to put away such a wife, as was truly, and ac- 
 cording to God's law, to be counted a wife ; that is, 
 such a one as would dwell with her husband, and both 
 would and could perform the necessary duties of wed- 
 lock tolerably. But she who will not dwell with her 
 husband is not put away by him, but goes of herself: 
 and she who denies to be a meet help, or to be so hath 
 made herself unfit by open misdemeanours, or through 
 incurable impotencies cannot be able, is not by the law 
 of God to be esteemed a w ife ; as hath been shewn 
 both from the first institution, and other places of Scrip- 
 ture. Neither certainly would tlie Pharisees propound 
 a question concerning such an unconjugal wife; for 
 their depravation of the law had brought them to that 
 pass, as to think a man had right to put away his wife 
 for any cause, though never so slight. Since therefore 
 it is manifest, that Christ answered the Pharisees con- 
 cerning a fit and meet wife according to tlie law of 
 God, whom he forbid to divorce for any cause but for- 
 nication ; who sees not that it is a wickedness so to 
 wrest and extend that answer of his, as if it forbad to 
 divorce her who hath already forsaken, or hath lost the 
 place and dignity of a wife, by deserved infamy, or 
 hath undertaken to be that which she hath not natural 
 ability to be ? 
 
 This truth is so powerful, that it hath moved the pa- 
 pists to grant their kind of divorce for other causes be- 
 sides adultery, as for ill usage, and the not performing 
 of conjugal duty; and to separate from bed and board 
 for these causes, which is as much divorce as they grant 
 for adultery. 
 
 But some perhaps will object, that though it be 
 yielded that our Lord granted divorce not only for 
 adultery, yet it is not certain, that he permitted mar- 
 riage after divorce, unless for that only cause. I an- 
 
 swer, first, that the sentence of divorce and second 
 marriage is one and the same. So that when the right 
 of divorce is evinced to belong not only to the cause of 
 fornication, the power of second marriage is also proved 
 to be not limited to that cause only ; and that most 
 evidently whenas the Holy Ghost, 1 Cor. vii. so frees 
 the deserted party from bondage, as that he may not 
 only send a just divorce in case of desertion, but may 
 seek another marriage. 
 
 Lastly, seeing God will not that any should live 
 in danger of fornication and utter ruin for the default 
 of another, and hath commanded the husband to send 
 away with a bill of divorce her whom he could not 
 love ; it is impossible that the charge of adultery should 
 belong to him who for lawful causes divorces and mar- 
 ries, or to her who marries after she hath been unjustly 
 rejected, or to him who receives her without all fraud 
 to the former wedlock. For this were a horrid blas- 
 phemy against God, so to interpret his words, as to 
 make him dissent from himself; for who sees not a flat 
 contradiction in this, to enthral blameless men and 
 women to miseries and injuries, under a false and sooth- 
 ing title of marriage, and yet to declare by his apos- 
 tle, tliat a brother or sister is not under bondaije in such 
 cases.' No less do these two things conflict with them- 
 selves, to enforce tlie innocent and faultless to endure 
 the pain and misery of another's perverseness, or else 
 to live in unavoidable temptation ; and to affinn else- 
 where that he lays on no man the burden of another 
 man's sin, nor doth constrain any man to the endan- 
 gering' of his soul. 
 
 CHAP. XLIV. 
 
 That to those also who are justly divorced, second mar- 
 riage ought to be permitted. 
 
 This although it be well proved, yet because it con- 
 cerns only the offender, I leave him to search out his 
 own charter himself in the author. 
 
 CHAP. XLV. 
 
 That some persons are so ordained to marriage, as that 
 they cannot obtain the gift of continence, no not by 
 earnest prayer ; and that therein every one is to be 
 left to his own judgment and conscience, and not to 
 have a burden laid upon him by any other. 
 
 CHAP. XLVI. 
 
 The words of the apostle concerning the praise of sin- 
 gle life unfolded. 
 
 These two chapters not so immediately debating 
 the right of divorce, I choose rather not to insert. 
 
 CHAP. XLVIT. 
 
 The conclusion of this treatise. 
 
 These things, most renowned king, I have brought 
 together, both to explain for what causes the unhappy 
 but sometimes most necessary help of divorce ought to 
 be gfranted according to God's word, by princes and 
 
174 
 
 THE JUDGMENT OF MARTIN BUCER CONCERNING DIVORCE. 
 
 rulers ; as also to explain how the words of Christ do 
 consent with such a g^raut. I have been larj^e indeed 
 both in handlinjf those oracles of God, and in laying 
 down those certain principles, which he who will know 
 what the mind of God is in tliis matter, must ever think 
 on and remember. But if we consider what mist and 
 obscurity hath been poured out by Antichrist upon tliis 
 question, and how deep this pernicious contempt of 
 wedlock, and admiration of single life, even in those 
 who are not called thereto, hath sunk into many men's 
 persuasions ; I fear lest all that hath been said be 
 hardly enough to persuade such, that they would cease 
 at length to make themselves wiser and holier than 
 God himself, in being so severe to grant lawful mar- 
 riage, and so easy to connive at all, not only whoredoms 
 but deflowerings and adulteries : whenas, among the 
 people of God, no whoredom was to be tolerated. 
 
 Our Lord Jesus Christ, who came to destroy the 
 works of Satan, sent down his Spirit upon all Chris- 
 tians, and principally upon christian governors both in 
 church and commonwealth, (for of the clear judgment 
 of your royal majesty I nothing doubt, revolving the 
 Scripture so often as ye do,) that they may acknowledge 
 how much they provoke the anger of God against us, 
 whenas all kind of unchastity is tolerated, fornications 
 and adulteries winked at; but holy and honourable 
 wedlock is oft withheld by the mere persuasion of Anti- 
 christ, from such as without this remedy cannot pre- 
 serve themselves from damnation ! For none who hath 
 but a spark of honesty will deny, that princes and states 
 ought to use diligence toward the maintaining of pure 
 and honest life among all men, without which all jus- 
 tice, all fear of God, and true religion decays. 
 
 And who knows not, that chastity and pureness of 
 life can never be restored, or continued in the common- 
 wealth, unless it be first established in private houses, 
 from whence the whole breed of men is to come forth ? 
 To effect this, no wise man can doubt, that it is neces- 
 sary for princes and magistrates first with severity to 
 punish whoredom and adultery ; next to see that mar- 
 riages be lawfully contracted, and in the Lord ; then 
 that they be faithfully kept; and lastly, %vhen that un- 
 happincss urges, that they be lawfully dissolved, and 
 other marriage granted, according as the law of God, 
 and of nature, and the constitutions of pious princes 
 have decreed ; as I have shewn both by evident autho- 
 rities of Scripture, together with the writings of the 
 ancient fathers, and other testimonies. Only the Lord 
 grant that we may learn to prefer his ever just and 
 saving word, before the comments of Antichrist, too 
 deeply rooted in many, and the false and blasphemous 
 exposition of our Saviour's words. Amen. 
 
 A POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 Thus far Martin Bucer : whom, where I might 
 without injury to either part of the cause, I deny not 
 to have epitomized ; in the rest observing a well-war- 
 
 ranted rule, not to give an inventory of so many words, 
 but to weigh their force. I could have added that elo- 
 quent and right christian discourse, written by Erasmus 
 on this argument, not disagreeing in effect from Bucer. 
 But this, I hope, will be enough to excuse me with the 
 mere Englishman, to be no forger of new and loose 
 opinions. Others may read him in his own phrase on 
 the first to the Corinthians, and ease me who never 
 could delight in long citations, much less in whole tra- 
 ductions ; whether it be natural disposition or educa- 
 tion in me, or that my mother bore me a speaker of 
 what God made mine own, and not a translator. There 
 be others also whom I could reckon up, of no mean 
 account in the church, (and Peter Martyr among the 
 first,) who are more than half our own in this contro- 
 versy. But this is a providence not to be slighted, 
 that as Bucer wrote this tractate of divorce in England 
 and for England, so Erasmus professes he begun here 
 among us the same subject, especially out of compas- 
 sion, for the need he saw this nation had of some cha- 
 ritable redress herein ; and seriously exhorts others to 
 use their best industry in the clearing of this point, 
 wherein custom hath a greater sway than verity. That 
 therefore which came into the mind of these two ad- 
 mired strangers to do for England, and in a touch of 
 highest prudence, which they took to be not yet re- 
 covered from monastic superstition, if I a native am 
 found to have done for mine own country, altogether 
 suitably and conformably to their so large and clear 
 understanding, yet without the least help of theirs ; I 
 suppose that henceforward among conscionable and 
 judicious persons it will no more be thought to my 
 discredit, or at all to this nation's dishonour. And if 
 these their books the one shall be printed often with 
 best allowance in mogt religious cities, the other with 
 express authority of Leo the Tenth, a pope, shall, for 
 the propagating of truth, be published and republished, 
 though against the received opinion of that church, 
 and mine containing but the same thing, shall in a 
 time of reformation, a time of free speaking, free writ- 
 ing, not find a permission to the press ; I refer me to 
 wisest men, whether truth be suflTered to be truth, or 
 liberty to be liberty, now among us, and be not again 
 in danger of new fetters and captivity after all our 
 hopes and labours lost : and whether learning be not 
 (which our enemies too prophetically feared) in the 
 way to be trodden down again by ignorance. Whereof 
 while time is, out of the faith owing to God and my 
 country, I bid this kingdom beware ; and doubt not 
 but God who hath dignified this parliament already to 
 so many glorious degrees, will also give them (which 
 is a singular blessing) to inform themselves rightly in 
 the midst of an unprincipled age, and to prevent this 
 working mystery of ignorance and ecclesiastical tliral- 
 dom, which under new shapes and disguises begins 
 afresh to grow upon us. 
 
TETRACHORDON: 
 
 EXPOSITIONS 
 
 UPON THE FOUR CHIEF PASSAGES OF SCRIPTURE WHICH TREAT 
 OF MARRIAGE, OR NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 Gex. i. 27, 28, COMPARED AXD EXPLAINED BY Gen. ii. 18, 23, 24. Deut. xxiv. 1, 2. Matt. v. 31, 32, with 
 Matt, xix. from ver. 3 to 11. 1 Cor. vii. from ver. 10 to 16. 
 
 WHEREIN THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE, AS WAS LATELY PUBLISHED, IS COHFIRMED BY EXPLANATION OP SCRIP- 
 TURE, BY TKSTIMONY OF ANCIENT FATHERS, OF CIVIL LAWS IN THE PRIMITIVE CHURCH, OF FAMOrSEST REFORMED DIVINES; 
 AND LASTLY, BY AN INTENDED ACT OF THE PARLIAMENT AND CHURCH OF ENGLAND IN THE LAST YEAR OF EDWARD THE SIXTH. 
 
 Znaiutiri xaivii irpotr^ipun ao<pit 
 
 Aofeir ^XP*'"^' ""^ ao^ot weipunevai. 
 Twf d' ai/ doKovvTtiv ttitvat ti woiKtKov, 
 KpdWwv vofiiaOtit i» w6\ti, Xinrpot ipanp. 
 
 Euripid. Medea. 
 
 TO THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 That which I knew to be the part of a good mag-is- 
 trate, ainiinnf at true liberty throuffh the right infor- 
 mation of relig-ious and civil life, and that which I saw, 
 and was partaker of, your vows and solemn covenants, 
 parliament of England! your actions also manifestly 
 tending to exalt the truth, and to depress the tyranny 
 of errour and ill custom, with more constancy and 
 prowess than ever yet any, since that parliament which 
 put the first sceptre of this kingdom into his hand 
 whom God and extraordinary virtue made their mon- 
 arch ; were the causes that moved me, one else not 
 placing much in the eminence of a dedication, to pre- 
 sent your high notice with a discourse, conscious to it- 
 self of nothing more than of diligence, and firm 
 affection to the public good. And that ye took it so 
 as wise and impartial men, obtaining so great power 
 and dignity, are wont to accept, in matters both doubt- 
 ful and important, what they think offered them well 
 meant, and from a rational al)ility, I had no less than 
 to persuade me. And on that persuasion am returned, 
 as to a famous and free port, myself also bound by 
 more than a maritime law, to expose as freely what 
 fraughtage I conceive to bring of no trifles. For al- 
 though it be generally known, how and by whom ye 
 have been instigated to a hard censure of that former 
 book, entitled, " The Doctrine and Discipline of Di- 
 vorce," an opinion held by some of the best among re- 
 formed writers without scandal or confutement, though 
 now thought new and dangerous by some of our severe 
 Gnostics, whose little reading, and less meditating. 
 
 holds ever with hardest obstinacy that which it took 
 up with easiest credulity ; I do not find yet that aught, 
 for the furious incitements which have been used, hath 
 issued by your appointment, that might give the least 
 interruption or disrepute either to the author, or to the 
 book. Which he who will be better advised than to 
 call your neglect or connivance at a thing imagined 
 so perilous, can attribute it to nothing more justly 
 than to the deep and quiet stream of your direct and 
 calm deliberations, that gave not way either to the 
 fervent rashness or the immaterial gravity of those 
 who ceased not to exasperate without cause. For 
 which uprightness and incorrupt refusal of what ye 
 were incensed to, lords and commons ! (though it were 
 done to justice, not to me, and was a peculiar demon- 
 stration how far your ways are different from the rash 
 vulgar,) besides those allegiances of oath and duty, 
 which are my public debt to your public labours, I 
 have yet a store of gratitude laid up, which cannot be 
 exhausted ; and such thanks perhaps they may live to 
 be, as shall more than whisper to the next ages. Yet 
 that the author may be known to ground himself upon 
 his own innocence, and the merit of bis cause, not up- 
 on the favour of a divei-sion, or a delay to any just cen- 
 sure, but wishes rather he might see those his detractors 
 at any fair meeting, as learned debatements arc privi- 
 leged with a due freedom under equal moderators ; I 
 shall here briefly single one of them, (because he hath 
 obliged me to it,) who I persuade me having scarce read 
 the book, nor knowing him who writ it, or at least 
 
176 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 fei^ing the latter, bath not forborn to scandalize bim, 
 unconferred with, unadmonisbed, undealt with by any 
 pastorly or brotherly convincement, in the most open 
 and invective manner, and at the most bitter opportu- 
 nity that driTt or set design could have invented. 
 And this, when as the canon law, though commonly 
 most favouring the boldness of their priests, punishes 
 the naming or traducing of any person in the pulpit, 
 was by him made no scruple. If I shall therefore take 
 licence by the right of nature, and that liberty wherein 
 I was bom, to defend myself publicly against a print- 
 ed calumny, and do willingly appeal to those judges 
 to whom I am accused, it can be no immoderate or 
 unallowable course of seeking so just and needful re- 
 parations. Which I had done long since, had not those 
 employments, which are now visible, deferred me. 
 It was preached before ye, lords and commons! in 
 August last upon a special day of humiliation, that 
 " there was a wicked book abroad," and ye were taxed 
 of sin that it was yet " uncensured, the book deserving 
 to be burnt ;" and " impudence" also was charged 
 upon the author, who durst " set his name to it, and 
 dedicate it to yourselves ! First, lords and commons ! 
 I pray to that God, before whom ye then were pros- 
 trate, so to forgive ye those omissions and trespasses, 
 which ye desire most should find forgiveness, as I shall 
 soon shew to the world how easily ye absolve your- 
 selves of that which this man calls your sin, and is 
 indeed your wisdom, and your nobleness, whereof to 
 this day ye have done well not to repent. He terms 
 it " a wicked book," and why but " for allowing other 
 causes of divorce, than Christ and his apostles men- 
 tion ?" and with the same censure condemns of wicked- 
 ness not only Martin Bucer, that elect instrument of 
 reformation, highly honoured, and had in reverence by 
 Edward the Sixth, and his whole parliament, whom 
 also I had published in English by a good providence, 
 about a week before this calumnious digression was 
 preached ; so that if he knew not Bucer then, as he 
 ought to have known, he might at least have known 
 hira some months after, ere the sermon came in print; 
 wherein notwithstanding he persists in his former sen- 
 tence, and condemns again of wickedness, either igno- 
 rantly or wilfully, not only Martin Bucer, and all the 
 choicest and holiest of our reformers, but the whole 
 parliament and church of England in those best and 
 purest times of Edward the Sixth. All which I shall 
 prove with good evidence, at the end of these explana- 
 tions. And then letit be judged and seriously considered 
 with what hope the affairs of our religion are committed 
 to one among others, who hath now only left him which 
 of the twain he will choose, whether this shall be his pal- 
 pable ignorance, or the same wickedness of his ownbook, 
 which he so lavishly imputes to the writings of other 
 men : and whether this of his, that thus peremptorily de- 
 fames and attaints of wickedness unspotted churches, 
 unblemished parliaments, and the most eminent re- 
 storers of christian doctrine, deserve not to be burnt first. 
 And if his heat had burst out only against the opinion, 
 his wonted passion had no doubt been silently borne 
 with wonted patience. But since, against the charity of 
 
 that solemn place and meeting, it served him further 
 to inveigh oj)probriously against the person, branding 
 him with no less than impudence, only for setting his 
 name to what he had written ; I must be excused not 
 to be so wanting to the defence of an honest name, or 
 to the reputation of those good men who afford me their 
 society, but to be sensible of such a foul endeavoured 
 disgrace : not knowing aught either in mine own de- 
 serts, or the laws of this land, why I should be sub- 
 ject, in such a notorious and illegal manner, to the in- 
 temperances of this man's preaching choler. And in- 
 deed to be so prompt and ready in the midst of his hum- 
 bleness, to toss reproaches of this bulk and size, argues 
 as if they were the weapons of his exercise, I am sure 
 not of his ministry, or of that day's work. Certainly 
 to subscribe my name at what I was to own, was what 
 the state had ordered and requires. And he who lists 
 not to be malicious, would call it ingenuity, clear con- 
 science, willingness to avouch what might be ques- 
 tioned, or to be better instructed. And if God were so 
 displeased with those, Isa. Iviii. who " on the solemn 
 fast were wont to smite with the fist of wickedness," it 
 could be no sign of his own humiliation accepted, 
 which disposed him to smite so keenly with a reviling 
 tongue. But if only to have writ my name must be 
 counted " impudence," how doth this but justify an- 
 other, who might affirm with as good warrant, that the 
 late discourse of " Scripture and Reason," which is 
 certain to be chiefly his own draught, was published 
 without a name, out of base fear, and the sly avoidance 
 of what might follow to his detriment, if the party at 
 court should hap to reach him ? And I, to have set my 
 name, where he accuses me to have set it, am so far 
 from recanting, that I offer my hand also if need be, 
 to make good the same opinion which I there main- 
 tain, by inevitable consequences drawn parallel froni 
 his own principal arguments in that of " Scripture and 
 Reason :" which I shall pardon him if he can deny, 
 without shaking bis own composition to pieces. Tiie 
 " impudence" therefore, since he weighed so little what 
 a gross revile that was to give his equal, I send him 
 back again for a phylactery to stitch upon his arro- 
 gance, that censures not only before conviction, so bit- 
 terly without so much as one reason given, but cen- 
 sures the congregation of his governors to tlieir faces, 
 for not being so hasty as himself to censure. 
 
 And whereas my other crime is, that I addressed the 
 dedication of what I had studied to the parliament; 
 how could I better declare the loyalty which I owe to 
 that supreme and majestic tribunal, and the opinion 
 which I have of the high entrusted judgment, and per- 
 sonal worth assembled in that place ? With the same 
 affections therefore, and the same addicted fidelity, par- 
 liament of England ! I here again have brought to 
 your perusal on the same argument these following 
 expositions of Scripture. The former book, as pleased 
 some to think, who were thought judicious, had of 
 reason in it to a sufficiency ; what they required was, 
 that the Scriptures there alleged might be discussed 
 more full}'. To their desires thus much further hath 
 been laboured in the Scriptures. Another sort also. 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 177 
 
 who wanted more authorities and citations, have not 
 been here unthoug'ht of. If all this attain not to satisfy 
 them, as I am confident that none of those our great 
 controversies at this day hath had a more demonstrative 
 explaining, I must confess to admire what it is : for 
 doubtless it is not reason now-a-days that satisfies or 
 suborns the common credence of men, to yield so 
 easily, and grow so vehement in matters much more 
 disputable, and far less conducing to the daily good 
 and peace of life. Some whose necessary shifts have 
 long enured them to cloak the defects of their unstudied 
 years, and hatred now to learn, under the appearance 
 of a grave solidity, (which estimation they have gained 
 among weak perceivers,) find the ease of slighting 
 what they cannot refute, and are determined, as I 
 hear, to hold it not worth the answering. In which 
 number I must be forced to reckon that doctor, 
 who in a late equivocating treatise plausibly set afloat 
 against the Dippers, diving the while himself with a 
 more deep prelatical malignance against the present 
 state and church-government, mentions with ignominy 
 " the Tractate of Divorce ;" yet answers nothing, but 
 instead thereof (for which I do not commend his mar- 
 shalling) sets Moses also among tlie crew of his Ana- 
 baptists; as one who to a holy nation, the common- 
 wealth of Israel, gave laws " breaking the bonds of 
 marriage to inordinate lust." These are no mean 
 surges of blasphemy, not only dipping Moses the di- 
 vine lawgiver, but dashing with a high hand against 
 the justice and purity of God himself: as these ensu- 
 ing scriptures plainly and freely handled shall verify, 
 to the launching of that old apostemated errour. Him 
 therefore I leave now to his repentance. 
 
 Others, which is their courtesy, confess that wit and 
 parts may do much to make that seem true which is 
 not ; as was objected to Socrates by them who could 
 not resist his efficacy, that he ever made the worst 
 cause seem the better; and thus thinking themselves 
 discharged of the difficulty, love not to wade further 
 into the fear of a convincement. These will be their 
 excuses to decline the full examining of this serious 
 point. So much the more I press it and repeat it, 
 lords and commons ! that ye beware while time is, ere 
 this grand secret, and only art of ignorance affecting 
 tyranny, grow powerful, and rule among us. For if 
 sound argument and reason shall be thus put off, either 
 by an undervaluing silence, or the masterly censure of 
 a railing word or two in the pulpit, or by rejecting the 
 force of truth, as the mere cunning of eloquence and 
 sophistry ; what can be the end of this, but that all 
 good learning and knowledge will suddenly decay ? 
 Ignorance, and illiterate presumption, which is yet 
 but our disease, will turn at length into our very con- 
 stitution, and prove the hectic evil of this age : worse 
 to be feared, if it get once to reign over us, than any 
 fifth monarchy. If this shall be the course, that what 
 was wont to be a chief commendation, and the ground 
 of other men's confidence in an author, his diligence, 
 his learning, his elocution, whether by right or by ill 
 meaning granted him, shall be turned now to a disad- 
 vantage and suspicion against him, that what he writes, 
 
 though unconfuted, must therefore be mistrusted, there- 
 fore not received for the industry, the exactness, the la- 
 bour in it, confessed to be more than ordinary ; as if 
 wisdom had now foi-saken the thirsty and laborious in- 
 quirer, to dwell against her nature with the arrogant 
 and shallow babbler; to what purpose all those pains 
 and that continual searching required of us by Solo- 
 mon to the attainment of understanding ? Why are 
 men bred up with such care and expense to a life of 
 perpetual studies ? Why do yourselves with such en- 
 deavour seek to wipe off the imputation of intending 
 to discourage the ])rogress and advance of learning ? 
 He therefore, whose heart can bear him to the high 
 pitch of your noble enterprises, may easily assure him- 
 self, that the prudence and far-judging circumspect- 
 ness of so grave a magistracy sitting in parliament, 
 who have before them the prepared and purposed act 
 of their most religious predecessors to imitate in this 
 question, cannot reject the clearness of these reasons, 
 and these allegations both here and formerly offered 
 them ; nor can overlook the necessity of ordaining 
 more wholesomely and more humanely in the casual- 
 ties of divorce, than our laws have yet established, if 
 the most urgent and excessive grievances happening 
 in domestic life be worth the laying to heart; which, 
 unless charity be far from us, cannot be neglected. 
 And tiiat these things, both in the right constitution, 
 and in the right reformation of a commonwealth, call 
 for speediest redress, and ought to be the first con- 
 sidered, enough was urged in what was prefaced to 
 that monument of Bucer, which I brought to your re- 
 membrance, and the other time before. Henceforth, 
 except new cause be given, I shall say less and less. 
 For if the law make not timely provision, let the law, 
 as reason is, bear the censure of those consequences, 
 which her own default now more evidently produces. 
 And if men want manliness to expostulate the right of 
 their due ransom, and to second their own occasions, 
 they may sit hereafter and bemoan themselves to have 
 neglected through faintness the only remedy of their 
 sufferings, which a seasonable and well-grounded 
 speaking might have purchased them. And perhaps 
 in time to come, others will know how to esteem what 
 is not every day put into their hands, when they have 
 marked events, and better weighed how hurtful and 
 unwise it is, to hide a secret and pernicious rupture un- 
 der the ill counsel of a bashful silence. But who 
 would distrust aught, or not be ample in his hopes of 
 your wise and christian determinations ? who have the 
 prudence to consider, and should have the goodness, 
 like gods, as ye are called, to find out readily, and by 
 just law to administer those redresses, which have of 
 old, not without God ordaining, been granted to the 
 adversities of mankind, ere they who needed were put 
 to ask. Certainly, if any other have enlarged his 
 thoughts to expect from this government, so justly un- 
 dertaken, and by frequent assistances from Heaven so 
 apparently upheld, glorious changes and renovations 
 both in church and state, he among the foremost might 
 be named, who prays that the fate of England may 
 tarry for no other deliverers. JOHN MILTON. 
 
T E T R A C II O R D O N : 
 
 EXPOSITIONS 
 
 UPON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE WHICH TREAT OF MARRIAGE, OR 
 
 NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 Genesis i. 27. 
 So God created man in his own imag'e, in the image of 
 
 God created he him ; male and female created he 
 
 them, 
 28. And God blessed them, and God said unto them. 
 
 Be fruitful, &c. 
 
 Gen. ii. 18. 
 
 And the Lord God said, It is not good that man should 
 be alone, I will make him a help meet for him. 
 
 23. And Adam said, This is now bone of my bone, and 
 flesh of my flesh ; she shall be called woman, be- 
 cause she was taken out of a man. 
 
 24. Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mo- 
 ther, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall 
 be one flesh. 
 
 Gen. i, 27. 
 
 " So God created man in his own image."] To be 
 informed aright in the whole history of marriage, that 
 •we may know for certain, not by a forced yoke, but 
 by an impartial definition, what marriage is, and what 
 is not marriage : it will undoubtedly be safest, fairest, 
 and most with our obedience, to inquire, as our Saviour's 
 direction is, how it was in the beginning. And that 
 we begin so high as man created after God's own 
 image, there want not earnest causes. For nothing 
 now-a-days is more degenerately forgotten, than the 
 true dignity of man, almost in every respect, but espe- 
 cially in this prime institution of matrimony, wherein 
 his native pre-eminence ought most to shine. Although 
 if we consider that just and natural privileges men 
 neither can rightly seek, nor dare fully claim, unless 
 they be allied to inward goodness and stedfast know- 
 ledge, and that the want of this quells them to a ser- 
 vile sense of their own conscious unworthiness; it may 
 save the wondering why in this age many are so op- 
 posite both to human and to christian liberty, either 
 while they understand not, or envy others that do; 
 
 contenting, or rather priding themselves in a specious 
 humility and strictness bred out of low ignorance, that 
 never yet conceived the freedom of the gospel ; and is 
 therefore by the apostle to the Colossians ranked with 
 ho better company than will worship and the mere 
 shew of wisdom. And how injurious herein they are, 
 if not to themselves, yet to their neighbours, and not 
 to them only, but to the all-wise and bounteous grace 
 offered us in our redemption, will orderly appear. 
 
 " In the image of God created he him."] It is enough 
 determined, that this image of God, wherein man was 
 created, is meant wisdom, purity, justice, and rule over 
 all creatures. All which, being lost in Adam, was re- 
 covered with gain by the merits of Christ. For albeit 
 our first parent had lordship over sea, and land, and 
 air, yet there was a law without him, as a guard set 
 over him. But Christ having cancelled the hand- 
 writing of ordinances which was against us, Col. ii. 
 14, and interpreted the fulfilling of all through charity, 
 hath in that respect set us over law, in the free custody 
 of his love, and left us victorious under the guidance 
 of his living spirit, not under the dead letter ; to follow 
 that which most edifies, most aids and furthers a reli- 
 gious life, makes us holiest and likest to his immortal 
 image, not that which makes us most conformable and 
 captive to civil and subordinate precepts: whereof the 
 strictest observance may ofttimes prove the destruction 
 not only of many innocent persons and families, but of 
 whole nations. Although indeed no ordinance human 
 or from heaven can bind against the good of man ; so 
 that to keep them strictly against that end, is all one 
 with to break them. Men of most renowned virtue 
 have sometimes by transgressing most truly kept the 
 law ; and wisest magistrates have permitted and dis- 
 pensed it ; while they looked not peevishly at the letter, 
 but with a greater spirit at the good of mankind, if 
 always not written in the characters of law, yet engraveaj 
 in the heart of man by a divine impression. This hea- 
 thens could see, as the well-read in story can recount oi 
 Solon and Epaminondas, whom Cicero in his first book^ 
 
EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, ice. 
 
 179 
 
 of " Invention " nobly defends. " All law," saith he, 
 " we ought to refer to the common good, and interpret 
 by that, not by the scroll of letters. No man observes 
 law for law's sake, but for the good of them for whom 
 it was made." The rest might serve well to lecture 
 these times, deluded through l.elly doctrines into a de- 
 vout slavery. The Scripture also affords David in the 
 shewbread, Hezekiah in the passover, sound and safe 
 transgressors of the literal command, which also dis- 
 pensed not seldom with itself; and taught us on what 
 just occasions to do so: until our Saviour, for whom 
 that great and godlike work was reserved, redeemed 
 us to a state above prescriptions, by dissolving the 
 whole law into charity. And have we not the soul to 
 understand this, and must we against this glory of 
 God's transcendent love towards us be still the servants 
 of a literal indictment? 
 
 " Created he him."] It might be doubted why he 
 saith, " In the image of God created he him," not 
 them, as well as "male and female" them ; especially 
 since that image might be common to them both, but 
 male and female could not, however the Jews fable 
 and please themselves with the accidental concurrence 
 of Plato's wit, as if man at first had been created her- 
 maphrodite : but then it must have been male and fe- 
 male created he him. So had the image of God been 
 equally common to them both, it had no doubt been 
 said, in the image of God created he them. But St. 
 Paul ends the controvei-sy, by explaining, that the 
 woman is not primarily and immediately the imag-e of 
 God, but in reference to the man, " The head of the 
 woman," saith he, 1 Cor. xi. " is the man ;" " he the 
 image and glory of God, she the glory of the man ;" he 
 not for her, but she for him. Therefore his precept is, 
 " Wives, be subject to your husbands as is fit in the 
 Lord," Col. iii. 18 ; " in every thing," Eph. v. 24. 
 Nevertheless man is not to hold her as a servant, but 
 receives her into a part of that empire, which God pro- 
 claims him to, though not equally, yet largely, as his 
 own image and glory : for it is no small glory to him, 
 that a creature so like him should be made subject to 
 Lim. Not but that particular exceptions may have 
 place, if she exceed her husband in prudence and dex- 
 terity, and he contentedly yield : for then a superior 
 and more natural law comes in, that the wiser should 
 govern the less wise, whether male or female. But 
 that which far more easily and obediently follows from 
 this verse is, that, seeing woman was pur])osely made 
 for man, and he her head, it cannot stand before the 
 breath of this divine utterance, that man the portraiture 
 of God, joining to himself for his intended good and 
 solace an inferior sex, should so become her thrall, 
 •whose wilfulness or inability to be a wife frustrates tlie 
 occasional end of her creation ; but that he may acquit 
 himself to freedom by his natural birthright, and that 
 indelible character of priority, which God crowned him 
 with. If it be urged, that sin hath lost him this, the 
 answer is not far to seek, that from her the sin first 
 proceeded, which keeps her justly in the same propor- 
 tion still beneath. She is not to gain by being first in 
 the transgression, that man should further lose to her, 
 
 N 
 
 because already he hath lost by her means. Oft it 
 happens, that in this matter he is without fault ; so that 
 his punishment herein is causeless : and God hath the 
 praise in our speeches of him, to sort his punishment in 
 the same kind with the offence. Suppose he erred ; it 
 is not the intent of God or man, to hunt an errour so 
 to the death with a revenge beyond all measure and 
 proportion. But if we argue thus, this affliction is be- 
 fallen him for his sin, therefore he must bear it, without 
 seeking the only remedy : first, it will be false, that all 
 affliction comes for sin, as in the case of Job, and of the 
 man born blind, John ix. 3, was evident : next, by that 
 reason, all miseries coming for sin, we must let them 
 all lie upon us like the vermin of an Indian Catharist, 
 which his fond religion forbids him to molest. Were 
 it a particular punishment inflicted through the anger 
 of God upon a person, or upon a land, no law hinders 
 us in that regard, no law but bids us remove it if we can ; 
 much more if it be a dangerous temptation withal; 
 much more yet, if it be certainly a temptation, and not 
 certainly a punishment, though a pain. As for what 
 they say we must bear with patience ; to bear with 
 patience, and to seek effectual remedies, implies no con- 
 tradiction. It may no less be for our disobedience, 
 our unfaithfulness, and other sins against God, that 
 wives become adulterous to the bed ; and questionless 
 we ought to take the affliction as patiently as christian 
 prudence would wish : yet hereby is not lost the right 
 of divorcing for adultery. No, you say, because our 
 Saviour excepted that only. But why, if he were so 
 bent to puni.sh our sins, and try our patience in binding 
 on us a disastrous man'iage, why did he except adul- 
 tery ."* Certainly to have been bound from divorce in 
 that case also had been as plentiful a punishment to 
 our sins, and not too little work for the patientcst. 
 Naj', perhaps they will say it was loo great a suffer- 
 ance ; and with as slight a reason, for no wise man but 
 would sooner pardon the act of adultery once and again 
 committed by a person worth pity and forgiveness, than 
 to lead a wearisome life of unloving and unquiet con- 
 versation with one who neither affects nor is affected, 
 much less with one who exercises all bitterness, and 
 would commit adultery too, but for envy lest the per- 
 secuted condition should thereby get the benefit of his 
 freedom. It is plain therefore, that God enjoins not 
 this supposed strictness of not divorcing either to punish 
 us, or to try our patience. 
 
 Moreover, if man be the image of God, which con- 
 sists in holiness, and woman ought in the same respect 
 to be the image and companion of man, in such wise 
 to be loved as the church is beloved of Christ; and if, 
 as God is the head of Christ, and Christ the head of 
 man, so man is the head of woman ; I cannot see by 
 this golden dependance of headship and subjection, 
 but that piety and religion is the main tie of christian 
 matrimony : so as if there be found between the pair a 
 notorious disparity either of wickedness or heresy, the 
 husband by all manner of right is disengaged from a 
 creature, not made and inflicted on him to the vexation 
 of his righteousness : the wife also, as her subjection is 
 terminated in the Lord, being herself the redeemed of 
 
180 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 Christ, is not still bound to be tbc vassal of him, who 
 is the bondslave of Satan : she being- now neither the 
 image nor the glory of such a person, nor made for him, 
 nor left in bondage to him ; but hath recourse to the 
 wing of charity, and protection of the church, unless 
 there be a hope on either side : yet such a hope must 
 be meant, as may be a rational hope, and not an end- 
 less servitude. Of which hereafter. 
 
 But usually it is objected, that if it be thus, then 
 there can be no true marriage between misbelievers and 
 irreligious persons. I might answer, let them see to 
 that who are such ; the church hath no commission to 
 judge those without, 1 Cor. v. But this they will say 
 perhaps, is but penuriously to resolve a doubt. I an- 
 swer therefore, that where they are both irreligious, the 
 marriage may be yet true enough to them in a civil 
 relation. J'or there are left some remains of God's 
 image in man, as he is merely man ; which reason God 
 gives against the shedding of man's blood, Gen. ix. as 
 being made in God's image, without expressing whether 
 he were a good man or a bad, to exempt the slayer 
 from punishment. So that in those marriages where 
 the parties are alike void of religion, the wife owes a 
 civil homage and subjection, the husband owes a civil 
 loyalty. But where the yoke is misyoked, heretic 
 with faithful, godly with ungodly, to the grievance 
 and manifest endangering of a brother or sister, reasons 
 of a higher strain than matrimonial bear sway ; unless 
 the gospel, instead of freeing us, debase itself to make 
 us bond-men, and suffer evil to control good. 
 
 " Male and female created he them."] This con- 
 tains another end of matching man and woman, being 
 the right and lawfulness of the marriage-bed ; though 
 much inferior to the former end of her being his image 
 and help in religious society. And who of weakest 
 insight may not see, that this creating of them male 
 and female cannot in any order of reason, or Christian- 
 ity, be of such moment against the better and higher 
 purposes of their creation, as to enthral husband or wife 
 to duties or to sufferings, unworthy and unbeseeming 
 the image of God in them .'* Now whcnas not only 
 men, but good men, do stand upon their right, their 
 estimation, their dignity, in all other actions and de- 
 portments, with warrant enough and good conscience, 
 as having the image of God in them, it will not be dif- 
 ficult to determine what is unworthy and unseemly for 
 a man to do or suffer in wedlock : and the like propor- 
 tionally may be found for woman, if we love not to 
 stand disputing below the principles of humanity. He 
 that said, " Male and female created he them," imme- 
 diately before that said also in the same verse, " in the 
 image of God created he him," and redoubled it, that 
 our thoughts might not be so full of dregs as to urge 
 this poor consideration of male and female, without 
 remembering the nobleness of that former repetition ; 
 lest when God sends a wise eye to examine our trivial 
 glosses, they be found extremely to creep upon the 
 ground : especially since they confess, that what here 
 concerns marriage is but a brief touch, only preparative 
 to the institution which follows more expressly in the 
 next chapter; and that Christ so took it, as desiring to 
 
 be briefest with them who came to tempt him, account 
 shall be given in due place. 
 
 Ver. 28. " And God blessed them, and God sjiid 
 unto them. Be fruitful and multiply, and replenish 
 the earth," &c. 
 
 This declares anotlier end of matrimony, the propa- 
 gation of mankind; and is again repeated to Noah and 
 his sons. Many things might be noted on this place 
 not ordinary, nor unworth the noting; but I undertook 
 not a general comment. Hence therefore we see the 
 desire of children is honest and pious ; if we be not less 
 zealous in our Christianity than Plato was in his hea- 
 thenism; who in the sixth of his laws, counts offspring 
 therefore desirable, that we may leave in our stead sons 
 of our sons, continual servants of God : a religious and 
 prudent desire, if people knew as well what were re- 
 quired to breeding as to begetting ; which desire per- 
 haj)s was a cause, why the Jews hardly could endure 
 a barren wedlock : and Philo, in his book of special 
 laws, esteems him only worth pardon, that sends not 
 barrenness away. Carvilius, the first recorded in Rome 
 to have sought divorce, had it granted him for the bar- 
 renness of his wife, ujion his oath that he married to 
 the end he might have children ; as Dionysius and 
 Gellius are authors. But to dismiss a wife only for 
 barrenness, is hard : and yet in some the desire of chil- 
 dren is so great, and so just, yea sometimes so necessary, 
 that to condemn such a one to a childless age, the fault 
 apparently not being in him, might seem perhaps more 
 strict than needed. Sometimes inheritances, crowns, 
 and dignities are so interested and annexed in their 
 common peace and good to such or such lineal descent, 
 that it may prove of great moment both in the affairs 
 of men and of religion, to consider thoroughly what 
 might be done herein, notwithstanding the wayward- 
 ness of our school doctoi-s. 
 
 Gen. II. 18. 
 
 " And the Lord said, It is not good that man should 
 
 be alone ; I will make him a help meet for him." 
 
 Ver. 23. " And Adam said," &c. Ver. 24. " Therefore 
 
 shall a man leave," &c. 
 
 This second chapter is granted to be a commentary 
 on the first, and these verses granted to be an exposi- 
 tion of that former verse, " Male and female created 
 he them :" and yet when this male and female is by 
 the explicit words of God himself here declared to be 
 not meant other than a fit help, and meet society ; some, 
 who would engross to themselves the whole trade of 
 interpreting, will not suflTer the clear text of God to do 
 the office of explaining itself 
 
 " And the Lord God said. It is not good."] A man 
 would think, that the consideration of who spake should 
 raise up tlie intention of our minds to inquire better, 
 and obey the purpose of so great a speaker : for as we 
 order the business of marriage, that which he here 
 speaks is all made vain ; and in the decision of matri- 
 mony, or not matrimony, nothing at all regarded. Our 
 prcsum))lion hath utterly changed the state and con 
 
 i 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 181 
 
 dition of this ordinance: God ordained it in love and 
 helpfulness to be indissoluble, and we in outward act 
 and formality to be a forced bondage ; so that being 
 subject to a thousand errours in the best men, if it prove 
 a blessing to any, it is of mere accident, as man's law 
 hath handled it, and not of institution. 
 
 " It is not good for man to be alone."] Hitherto all 
 things, that have been named, were approved of God 
 to be very good : loneliness is the first thing, which 
 God's eye name not good : whether it be a thing, or 
 the want of something, I labour not; let it be their 
 tendance, who have the art to be industriously idle. 
 And here " alone " is meant alone without woman ; 
 otherwise Adam had the company of God himself, and 
 angels to converse with ; all creatures to delight iiira 
 seriously, or to make him sport. God could have created 
 him out of the same mould a thousand friends and bro- 
 ther Adams to have been his consorts ; yet for all this, 
 till Eve was given him, God reckoned him to be alone. 
 
 " It is not good."] God here presents himself like 
 to a man deliberating ; both to shew us tliat the matter 
 is of high consequence, and that he intended to found 
 it according to natural reason, not impulsive command ; 
 but that the duty should arise from the reason of it, not 
 the reason be swallowed up in a reasonless duty. 
 " Not good," was as much to Adam before his fall, as 
 not pleasing, not expedient; but since the coming of 
 sin into the world, to him who hath not received the 
 continence, it is not only not expedient to be alone, but 
 plainly sinful. And therefore he viho wilfully abstains 
 from marriage, not being supernaturally gifted, and he 
 who by making the yoke of marriage unjust and in- 
 tolerable, causes men to abhor it, are both in a diabo- 
 lical sin, equal to that of Antichrist, who forbids to 
 marry. For what difTerence at all whether he abstain 
 men from marrying, or restrain them in a marriage 
 happening totally discommodious, distasteful, dishonest, 
 and pernicious to him, without the appearance of his 
 fault? For God does not here precisely say, I make a 
 female to this male, as he did before ; but expounding 
 himself here on purpose, he saith, because it is not good 
 for man to be alone, I make him therefore a meet help. 
 God supplies the privation of not good, with the per- 
 fect gift of a real and positive good : it is man's per- 
 verse cooking, who hatli turned this bounty of God 
 into a scorpion, either by weak and shallow construc- 
 tions, or by proud aiTogance and cruelty to them who 
 neither in their purposes nor in their actions have of- 
 fended against the due honour of wedlock. 
 
 Now whereas the apostle's speaking in the spirit, 
 
 1 Cor. vii. pronounces quite contrary to this word of 
 
 God, " It is good for a man not to touch a woman," 
 
 and God cannot contradict himself; it instructs us, that 
 
 his commands and words, especially such as bear the 
 
 , manifest title of some good to man, are not to be so 
 
 I strictly wrung, as to command without regard to the 
 
 imost natural and miserable necessities of mankind. 
 
 Therefore tlie apostle adds a limitation in the 26th 
 
 vorse of that chapter, for the present necessity it is 
 
 good ; which he gives us doubtless as a pattern how to 
 
 reconcile other places by the general rule of charity. 
 
 " For man to be alone."] Some would have the 
 sense hereof to be in respect of procreation only : and 
 Austin contests that manly friendship in all other re- 
 gard had been a more becoming solace for Adam, than 
 to spend so many secret years in an empty world with 
 one woman. But our writers deservedly reject this 
 crabbed opinion ; and defend that there is a peculiar 
 comfort in the married state beside the genial bed, 
 which no other society affords. No mortal nature can 
 endure either in the actions of religion, or study of 
 wisdom, without sometime slackening the cords of in- 
 tense thought and labour : which lest we should think 
 faulty, God himself conceals us not his own recreations 
 before the world was built ; " I was," saith the eternal 
 wisdom, " daily his delight, playing always before 
 him." And to him indeed wisdom is as a high tower 
 of pleasure, but to us a steep hill, and we toiling ever 
 about the bottom : he executes with ease the exploits 
 of his omnipotence, as easy as with us it is to will : but 
 no worthy enterprise can be done by us M'ithout con- 
 tinual plodding and wearisomeness to our faint and 
 sensitive abilities. We cannot therefore always be con- 
 templative, or pragmatical abroad, but have need of 
 some delightful intermissions, wherein the enlarged 
 soul may leave off a while her severe schooling; and, 
 like a glad youtii in wandering vacancy, may keep 
 her holidays to joy and harmless pastime : which as she 
 cannot well do without company, so in no company 
 so well as where the different sex in most resembling 
 unlikeness, and most unlike resemblance, cannot but 
 please best, and be pleased in the aptitude of that va- 
 riety. Whereof lest we should be too timorous, in the 
 awe that our flat sages would form us and dress us, 
 wisest Solomon among his gravest Proverbs counte- 
 nances a kind of ravishment and erring fondness in the 
 entertainment of wedded leisures ; and in the Song of 
 Songs, which is generally believed, even in the jollicst 
 expressions, to figure the spousals of the church with 
 Christ, sings of a thousand raptures between those two 
 lovely ones far on the hither side of carnal enjoyment. 
 By these instances, and more which might be brought, 
 we may imagine how indulgently God provided against 
 man's loneliness ; that he approved it not, as by him- 
 self declared not good ; that he approved the remedy 
 thereof, as of his own ordaining, consequently good : 
 and as he ordained it, so doubtless proportionably to 
 our fallen estate he gives it; else were his ordinance 
 at least in vain, and we for all his gifts still empty 
 handed. Nay, such an unbounteous giver we siiould 
 make him, as in the fables Jupiter was to Ixion, giv- 
 ing him a cloud instead of Juno, giving him a mon- 
 strous issue by her, the breed of Centaurs, a neglected 
 and unloved race, the fruits of a delusive marriage ; 
 and lastly, giving him her with a damnation to that 
 wheel in hell, from a life thrown into the midst of 
 temptations and disorders. But God is no deceitful 
 giver, to bestow that on us for a remedy of loneli- 
 ness, which if it bring not a sociable mind as well 
 as a conjunctive body, leaves us no less alone than 
 before; and if it bring a mind per])etually averse and 
 disagreeable, betrays us to a worse condition than 
 
182 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CJHIEF PLACES IN SCRIFfURE, 
 
 the most deserted loneliness. God cannot in the jus- 
 tice of his own promise and institution so unexpect- 
 edly mock us, by forcing' that upon us as the re- 
 medy of solitude, which wraps us in a misery worse 
 than any wilderness, as the Spirit of God himself 
 judges, Prov. xix. especially knowing- that the best 
 and wisest men amidst the sincere and most cordial de- 
 signs of their heart, do daily err in choosing. We may 
 conclude therefore, seeing orthodoxal expositors con- 
 fess to our hands, tiiat by loneliness is not only meant 
 the want of copulation, and that man is not less alone 
 by turning in a body to him, unless there be within it 
 a mind answerable ; tliat it is a work more worthy the 
 care and consultation of God to provide for the wor- 
 thiest part of man, which is his mind, and not unna- 
 turally to set it beneath the formalities and respects of 
 the body, to make it a servant of its own vassal : I say, 
 we may conclude that such a marriage, wherein the 
 mind is so disgraced and vilified below the body's in- 
 terest, and can have no just or tolerable contentment, 
 is not of God's institution, and therefore no marriage. 
 Nay, in concluding this, I say we conclude no more 
 than what the common expositors themselves give us, 
 both in that which I have recited, and much more 
 hereafter. But the truth is, they give us in such a 
 manner, as they who leave their own mature po- 
 sitions like the egg^ of an ostrich in the dust; I 
 do but lay them in the sun ; their own pregnancies 
 hatch the truth ; and I am taxed of novelties and strange 
 produccments, while they, like that inconsiderate bird, 
 know not that these are their own natural breed. 
 
 *' I will make him a help meet for him."] Here the 
 heavenly iustitutor, as if he laboured not to be mis- 
 taken by the supercilious hypocrisy of those that love 
 to master their brethren, and to make us sure that he 
 gave us not now a servile yoke, but an amiable knot, 
 contents not himself to say, I will make him a wife ; 
 but resolving to give us first the meaning before the 
 name of a wife, saith graciously, " I will make him a 
 help meet for him." And here again, as before, I do 
 not require more full and fair deductions than the whole 
 consent of our divines usually raise from this text, that 
 in matrimony there must be first a mutual help to 
 piety, next to civil fellowship of love and amity, then 
 to generation, so to household affairs, lastly the remedy 
 of incontinence. And commonly they reckon them in 
 such order, as leaves generation and incontinence to 
 be last considered. This I amaze me at, that though 
 all the superior and nobler ends both of marriage 
 and of the married persons be absolutely frustrate, 
 the matrimony stirs not, loses no hold, remains as 
 rooted as the centre : but if the body bring but in a 
 complaint of frigidity, by that cold application only 
 this adamantine Alp of wedlock has leave to dis- 
 solve ; which else all the machinations' of religious or 
 civil reason at the suit of a distressed mind, either for 
 divine worship or human conversation violated, cannot 
 unfasten. What courts of concupiscence are these, 
 wherein fleshly appetite is heard before right reason, 
 lust before love or devotion .'' They may be pious 
 Christians together, they may be loving and friendly. 
 
 they may be helpful to each other in the family, but 
 they cannot couple ; that shall divorce them, though 
 either party would not. They can neither serve God 
 together, nor one be at peace with the other, nor be 
 good in the family one to other, but live as they were 
 dead, or live as they were deadly enemies in a cage to- 
 getlicr ; it is all one, they can couple, they shall not 
 divorce till death, not though this sentence be their 
 death. What is this besides tyranny, but to turn na- 
 ture upside down, to make both religion and the mind 
 of man wait upon the slavish errands of the body, and 
 not the body to follow either the sanctity or the sove- 
 reignty of the mind, unspeakably wronged, and with 
 all equity complaining ? what is this but to abuse tlic 
 sacred and mysterious bed of marriage to be the com- 
 pulsive stye of an ingrateful and malignant lust, stirred 
 up only from a carnal acrimony, without either love or 
 peace, or regard to any other thing holy or human ? 
 This I admire, how possibly it should inhabit thus long 
 in the sense of so many disputing theologians, unless 
 it be the lowest lees of a canonical infection liver- 
 grown to their sides ; which perhaps will never uncling, 
 without the strong abstersive of some heroic magistrate, 
 whose mind, equal to his high office, dares lead him 
 both to know and to do without their frivolous case- 
 putting. For certain he shall have God and this in- 
 stitution plainly on his side. And if it be true both in 
 divinity and law, that consent alone, though copula- 
 tion never follow, makes a marriage ; how can they 
 dissolve it for the want of that which made it not, and 
 not dissolve it for that not continuing which made it 
 and should preserve it in love and reason, and differ- 
 ence it from a brute conjugality ? 
 
 " Meet for him."] The original here is more expres- 
 sive than other languages word for word can render it ; 
 but all agree effectual conformity of disposition and 
 affection to be hereby signified ; which God as it were, 
 not satisfied with the naming of a help, goes on de- 
 scribing another self, a second self, a very self itself. 
 Yet now there is nothing in the life of man, through 
 our misconstruction, made more uncertain, more ha- 
 zardous and full of chance, than this divine blessing 
 with such favourable significance here conferred upon 
 us ; which if we do but err in our choice, the most un- 
 blameable errour that can be, err but one minute, one 
 moment after those mighty syllables pronounced, 
 which take upon them to join heaven and hell toge- 
 ther unpardonably till death pardon : this divine bless- 
 ing that looked but now with such a humane smile 
 upon us, and spoke such gentle reason, straight van- 
 ishes like a fair sky, and brings on such a scene of 
 cloud and tempest, as turns all to shipwreck without 
 haven or shore, but to a ransoraless captivity. And 
 then they tell us it is our sin : but let them be told 
 again, that sin through the mercy of God hatli not 
 made such waste upon us, as to make utterly void to our 
 use any temporal benefit, much less any so much avail- 
 ing to a peaceful and sanctified life, merely for a most 
 incident errour, which no wariness can certainly shun. 
 And wherefore serves our happy redemption, and the 
 liberty we have in Christ, but to deliver us from cala- 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 183 
 
 niitous yokes, not to be lived under without the en- 
 dangerment of our souls, and to restore us in some 
 competent measure to a right in every good thing both 
 of this life, and the other? Thus we see how treatably 
 and distinctly God hath here taught us what the prime 
 ends of marriage are ; mutual solace and help. That 
 we are now, upon the most irreprehensible mistake in 
 choosing, defeated and defrauded of all this original 
 benignity, was begun first through the snare of anti- 
 christian canons long since obtruded upon the church 
 of Rome, and not yet scoured off hy reformation, out of 
 a lingering vain-glory that abides among us to make 
 fair shews in formal ordinances, and to enjoin conti- 
 nence and bearing of crosses in such a garb as no scrij)- 
 ture binds us, under the thickest arrows of temptation, 
 where we need not stand. Now we shall see with w hat 
 acknowledgment and assent Adam received this new 
 associate which God brought him. 
 
 Ver. 23. " And Adam said, This is now bone of my 
 
 bones, and flesh of my flesh ; she shall be called 
 woman, because she was taken out of man." 
 
 That there was a nearer alliance between Adam and 
 Eve, than could be ever after between man and wife, 
 is visible to any. For no other woman was ever 
 moulded out of her husband'srib, but of mere strangers 
 for the most part they come to have that consanguini- 
 ty, which they have by wedlock. And if we look 
 nearly upon the matter, though marriage be most 
 agreeable to holiness, to purity, and justice, yet is it 
 not a natural, but a civil and ordained relation. For 
 if it were in nature, no law or crime could disannul it, 
 to make a wife, or husband, otherwise than still a wife 
 or husband, bivt only death ; as nothing but that can 
 make a father no father, or a son no son. But divorce 
 for adultery or desertion, as all our churches agree but 
 England, not only separates, but nullifies, .ind extin- 
 guishes the relation itself of matrimony, so that they 
 are no more man and wife ; otherwise the innocent 
 party could not marry elsewhere, without the guilt of 
 adultery. Next, were it merely natural, why m as it 
 here ordained more than tlie rest of moral law to man 
 in his original rectitude, in whose breast all that « as 
 natural or moral was engraven without external con- 
 stitutions and edicts ? Adam therefore in these words 
 does not establish an indissoluble bond of nianiage in 
 the carnal ligaments of flesh and bones ; for if he did, 
 it would belong only to himself in the literal sense, 
 every one of us being nearer in flesh of flesh, and bone 
 of bones, to our parents than to a wife ; they therefore 
 were not to be left for her in that respect. But Adam, 
 who had the wisdom given him to know all creatures, 
 and to name them according to their properties, no 
 doubt but had the gift to discern perfectly that which 
 concerned him much more; and to apprehend at fii-st 
 sight the true fitness of that consort which God pro- 
 vided him. And therefore spake in reference to those 
 words which God pronounced before ; as if he had 
 said. This is she by whose meet help and society I shall no 
 more be alone ; this is she who was made my image, even 
 as I the image of God; not so much in body, as in unity of 
 
 mind and heart. And he might as easily know what 
 were the words of God, as he knew so readily what 
 had been done with his rib, while he slept so soundly. 
 He might well know, if God took a rib out of his in- 
 side to form of it a double good to him, he would far 
 sooner disjoin it from his outside, to prevent a treble 
 mischief to him ; and far sooner cut it quite off from 
 all relation for his undoubted ease, than nail it into his 
 body again, to stick for ever there a thorn in his heart. 
 Whenas nature teaches us to divide any limb from the 
 body to the saving of its fellows, thougli it be the 
 maiming and deformity of the whole ; how much more 
 is it l.er doctrine to sever by incision, not a true limb 
 so much, though that be lawful, but an adherent, a 
 sore, the gangrene of a limb, to the recovery of a whole 
 man ! But if in these words we shall make Adam to 
 erect a new establishment of marriage in the mere 
 flesh, which God so lately had instituted, and founded 
 in the sweet and mild familiarity of love and solace, 
 and mutual fitness ; what do we but use the mouth of 
 our general parent, the first time it opens, to an arro- 
 gant opposition and correcting of God's wiser ordi- 
 nance ? These words therefore cannot iin])ort any 
 thing new in marriage, but either that which belongs 
 to Adam only, or to us in reference only to the insti- 
 tuting words of God, which made a meet help against 
 loneliness. Adam spake like Adam the words of flesh 
 and bones, the shell and rind of matrimony ; but God 
 spake like God, of love, and solace, and meet help, the 
 soul both of Adam's words and of matriuiony. 
 
 Ver. 24. " Therefore shall a man leave his father 
 and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife; 
 and they shall be one flesh." 
 
 This Tcrse, as our common herd expounds it, is the 
 great knot-tier, which hath undone by tying, and by 
 tangling, millions of guiltless consciences : this is that 
 grisly porter, who having drawn men and wisest men 
 by subtle allurement within the train of an unhappy 
 matrimony, claps the dungeon-gate upon them, as ir- 
 recoverable as the grave. But if we view him well, 
 and hear him with not too hasty and prejudicant cars, 
 we shall find no such terror in him. For first, it is not 
 here said absolutely without all reason he shall cleave 
 to his wife, be it to his weal or to his destruction as it 
 happens, but he shall do this upon the premises and 
 considerations of that meet help and society before 
 mentioned. " Therefore he shall cleave to his wife," 
 no otherwise a wife than a fit help. He is not bid to 
 leave the dear cohabitation of his father, mother, bro- 
 thers, and sisters, to link himself inseparably with the 
 mere carcass of a marriage, perhaps an enemy. This 
 joining particle " Therefore" is in all equity, nay in 
 all necessity of construction, to comprehend first and 
 most principally what God spake concerning the in- 
 ward essence of marriage in his institution, tliat we 
 may learn how far to attend what Adam spake of the 
 outward materials thereof in his approbation. For if 
 we shall bind these words of Adam only to a corporal 
 meaning, and that the forceof this injunction upon all 
 us his sons, to live individually with any woman wnich 
 
184 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 hath befallen us in the most mistaken wedlock, shall 
 consist not in those moral and relative causes of Eve's 
 creation, but in the mere anatomy of a rib, and that 
 Adam's insig'ht conceminff wedlock reached no fur- 
 ther, we shall make him as very an idiot as the So- 
 cinians make him ; which would not be reverently 
 done of us. Let us be content to allow our great fore- 
 father so much wisdom, as to take the instituting words 
 of God along with him into this sentence, which if they 
 he well minded, will assure us that flesh and ribs are 
 but of a weak and dead efficacy to keep marriage united 
 where there is no other fitness. The rib of marriage, 
 to all since Adam, is a relation much rather than a 
 bone; thener\es and sinews thereof are love and meet 
 help, they knit not every couple that marries, and 
 where they knit they seldom break ; but where they 
 break, which for the most part is where they were 
 never truly joined, to such at the same instant both 
 6esh and rib cease to be in common : so that here they 
 argue nothing to tlie continuance of a false or violated 
 marriage, but must be led back again to receive their 
 meaning from those institutive words of God, which 
 give them all the life and vigour they have. 
 
 " Therefore shall a man leave his father," &c.] 
 What to a man's thinking more plain by this appoint- 
 ment, that the fatherly power should give place to con- 
 jugal prerogative? Yet it is generally held by re- 
 formed writers against the papist, that though in per- 
 sons at discretion the marriage in itself be never so fit, 
 though it be fully accomplished with benediction, 
 board, and bed, yet the father not consenting, his main 
 will without dispute shall dissolve all. And this they 
 affirm only from collective reason, not any direct law ; 
 for that in Exod. xxii. 17, which is most particular, 
 speaks that a father may refuse to marry his daughter 
 to one who hath defloured her, not that he may take 
 her away from one who hath soberly mamed her. 
 Yet because the general honour due to parents is gieat, 
 they hold he may, and perhaps hold not amiss. But 
 again, when the question is of harsh and rugged pa- 
 rents, who defer to bestow their children seasonably, 
 they agree jointly, that the church or magistrate may 
 bestow them, though without the father's consent: and 
 for this they have no express authority in Scripture. 
 So that they may see by their own handling of this 
 very place, that it is not the stubborn letter must go- 
 vern us, but the divine and softening breath of charity, 
 which turns and winds the dictate of every positive 
 command, and shapes it to the good of mankind. 
 Shall the outward accessory of a father's will wanting 
 rend the fittest and most affectionate marriage in twain, 
 after all nuptial consummations ; and shall not the want 
 of love, and the privation of all civil and religious con- 
 cord, which is the inward essence of wedlock, do as 
 much to part those vvho were never truly wedded ? 
 Shall a father have this power to vindicate his own 
 wilful honour and authority to the utter breach of a 
 most dearly united marriage, and shall not a man in 
 his own power have the permission to free his soul, his 
 life, and all his comfort of life from the disaster of a no- 
 marriage ? Shall fatherhood, which is but man, for his 
 
 own pleasure dissolve matrimony ; and shall not ma- 
 trimony, which is God's ordinance, for its own honour 
 and better conservation dissolve itself, when it is wrong 
 and not fitted to any of the chief ends which it owes us ? 
 " And they shall be one flesh."] These words also 
 infer, that there ought to be an individuality in mar- 
 riage ; but without all question presupp(»se the joining 
 causes. Not a rule yet that we have met with, so uni- 
 versal in this whole institution, but hath admitted limi- 
 tations and conditions acconiing to human necessity. 
 The very foundation of matrimony, though God laid it 
 deliberately, " that it is not good for man to be alone," 
 holds not always, if the apostle can secure us. Soon 
 after we are bid leave father and mother, and cleave to 
 a wife, but must understand the father's consent withal, 
 else not. "Cleave to a wife," but let her be a wife, let 
 her be a meet help, a solace, not a nothing, not an ad- 
 versary, not a desertrice : can any law or command be 
 so unreasonable, as to make men cleave to calamity, to 
 ruin, to perdition ? In like manner here " they shall 
 be one flesh ;" but let the causes hold, and be made 
 really good which only have the possibility to make 
 them one flesh. We know that flesh can neither join 
 nor keep together two bodies of itself ; what is it then 
 must make them one flesh, but likeness, but fitness of 
 mind and disposition, which may breed the spirit of 
 concord and union between them ? If that be not in 
 the nature of either, and that there has been a remedi- 
 less mistake, as vain %ve go about to compel them into 
 one flesh, as if we undertook to weave a garment of 
 dry sand. It were more easy to compel the vegetable 
 and nutritive power of nature to assimilations and mix- 
 tures, which are not alterable each by other; or force 
 the concoctive stomach to turn that into flesh, which is 
 so totally unlike that substance, as not to be wrought 
 on. For as tlie unity of mind is nearer and greater 
 than the union of bodies, so doubtless is the dissimili- 
 tude greater and more dividual, as that which makes 
 between bodies all difference and distinction. Espe- 
 cially whenas besides the singular and substantial dif- 
 ferences of every soul, there is an intimate quality of 
 good or evil, through the whole progeny of Adam, 
 which like a radical heat, or mortal chillness, joins 
 them, or disjoins them irresistibly. In whom there- 
 fore either the will or the faculty, is found to have never 
 joined, or now not to continue so, it is not to say, they 
 shall be one flesh, for they cannot be one flesh. God 
 commands not impossibilities ; and all the ecclesiasti- 
 cal glue, that liturgy or laymen can compound, is not 
 able to sodder up two such incongruous natures into 
 the one flesh of a true beseeming marriage. W]\j did 
 Moses then set down their uniting into one flesh ? 
 And I again ask, why the gospel so oft repeals the eat- 
 ing of our Saviour's flesh, the drinking of his blood."* 
 " That we are one body with him, the membere of 
 his body, flesh of his flesh, and bone of his bone," 
 Ephes. v. Yet lest we should be Capernaitans, as we 
 are told there, that the flesh profiteth nothing ; so we 
 are told here, if we be not as deaf as adders, that this 
 union of the flesh proceeds from the union of a fit help 
 and solace. We know, that there was never a more 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 185 
 
 spiritual mystery tljan this gospel taught us under the 
 terms of body and flesh ; yet nothing less intended 
 than that we should stick there. What a stupidness 
 then is it, that in marriage, which is the nearest resem- 
 blance of our union with Christ, we should deject our- 
 selves to such a sluggish and underfoot philosophy, as 
 to esteem the validity of marriage merely by tlie flesh, 
 though never so broken and disjointed from love and 
 peace, which only can give a human qualification to 
 that act of the flesh, and distinguish it from bes- 
 tial ! The text therefore uses this phrase, that " they 
 shall be one flesh," to justify and make legitimate 
 the rites of marriage-bed ; which was not unnecd- 
 ful, if for all this warrant they were suspected of 
 pollution by some sects of philosophy, and religions 
 of old, and latelier among the papists, and other he- 
 retics elder than thej. Some think there is a high 
 mystery in those words, from that which Paul saith 
 of them, Ephes. v. " This is a great mystery, but I 
 speak of Christ and the church : and thence they 
 would conclude marriage to be inseparable. For me, 
 I dispute not now whether matrimony be a mystery 
 or no; if it be of Christ and his church, certainly it is 
 not meant of every ungodly and miswedded marriage, 
 but then only mysterious, when it is a holy, happy, 
 and peaceful match. But when a saint is joined 
 with a reprobate, or both alike wicked with wicked, 
 fool with fool, a he-drunkard with a she ; when the bed 
 hath been nothing else for twenty years or more, but 
 an old haunt of lust and malice mixed together, no 
 love, no goodness, no loyalty, but counterplotting, and 
 secret wishing one another's dissolution; this is to mc 
 the greatest mystery in the world, if sucii a marriage 
 as this can be the mystery of aught, unless it be the 
 mystery of iniquity : according to that which Par«Mis 
 cites out of Chrysostom, that a bad wife is a help for 
 the devil, and the like may be said of a bad husband. 
 Since therefore none but a fit and pious matrimony can 
 signify the union of Christ and his church, there can- 
 not hence be any hinderancc of divorce to that wedlock 
 wherein there can be no good mystery. Rather it mi^ht 
 to a christian conscience be matter of finding itself so 
 much less satisfied than before, in the continuance of 
 an unhappy yoke, wherein there can be no representa- 
 tion either of Christ, or of his church. 
 
 Thus having inquired the institution how it Avas in 
 the beginning, both from the 1 chap, of Gen. where it 
 was only mentioned in part, and from the second, where 
 it was plainly and evidently instituted ; and having 
 attended each clause and word necessary with a dili- 
 gence not drowsy, we shall now fix with some advan- 
 tage, and by a short view backward gather up the 
 ground we have gone, and sum up the strength we 
 have, into one argumentative head, with that organic 
 force that logic profilers us. All arts acknowledge, that 
 then only we know certainly, when we can define ; for 
 definition is that which refines the pure essence of things 
 from the circumstance. If therefore we can attain in 
 this our controversy to define exactly what marriage is, 
 we shall soon learn when there is a nullity thereof, and 
 when a divorce. 
 
 The part therefore of this chapter, which hath been 
 here treated, doth orderly and readily resolve itself into 
 a definition of marriage, and a consectary from thence. 
 To the definition these words chiefly contribute ; " It is 
 not good," &c. " I will make," &c. Where the con- 
 sectary begins this connection, " Therefore" informs 
 us, " Therefore shall a man," &c. Definition is decreed 
 by logicians to consist only of causes constituting the 
 essence of a thing. What is not therefore among the 
 causes constituting marriage, must not stay in the de- 
 finition. Those causes are concluded to be matter, and, 
 as the artist calls it, Form. But inasmuch as the same 
 thing may be a cause more ways than one, and that in 
 relations and institutions which liave no corporal sub- 
 sistence, but only a res])ective being, the Form, by 
 which the thing is what it is, is oft so slender and un- 
 distinguishable, that it would soon confuse, were it not 
 sustained by the eflScient and final causes, which con- 
 cur to make up the form, invalid otherwise of itself, it 
 will be needful to take in all the four causes into the 
 definition. First therefore the material cause of matri- 
 mony is man and woman ; the author and efficient, 
 God and their consent ; the internal Form and soul of 
 this relation, is conjugal love arising from a mutual fit- 
 ness to the final causes of wedlock, help and society iu 
 religious, civil, and domestic convei-sation, which in- 
 cludes as an inferior end the fulfillingof natural desire, 
 and specifical increase ; these are the final causes botij 
 moving the Efficient, and perfecting the Form. And 
 although copulation be considered among the ends of 
 marriage, yet the act thereof in a right esteem can no 
 longer be matrimonial, than it is an efl^ect of conjugal 
 love. When love finds itself utterly unmatched, and 
 justly vanishes, nay rather cannot but vanish, the fleshly 
 act indeed may continue, but not holy, not pure, not 
 l)esceniing the sacred bond of marriage ; being at best 
 but an animal excretion, but more truly worse and 
 more ignoble than that mute kindliness among the 
 herds and flocks : in that proceeding as it ought from 
 intellective principles, it participates of nothing rational, 
 but that which the^eld and the fold equals. For in 
 human actions the soul is the agent, the body in a 
 manner passive. If then the body do out of sensitive 
 force, what the soul complies not with, how c.in man, 
 and not rather something beneath man, be thought the 
 doer ? 
 
 But to proceed in the pursuit of an accurate defini- 
 tion, it will avail us something, and whet our thoughts, 
 to examine what fabric hereof others have already 
 reared. Parceus on Gen. defines marriage to be " an 
 indissoluble conjunction of one man and one woman to 
 an individual and intimate conversation, and mutual 
 benevolence," Sec. Wherein is to be marked his placing 
 of intimate convei-sation before bodily benevolence; for 
 bodily is meant, though indeed " benevolence" rather 
 sounds will than body. Why then shall divorce be 
 granted for want of bodilj' performance, and not for 
 want of fitness to intimate conversation, whenas cor- 
 poral benevolence cannot in any human fashion be 
 without this ? Thus his definition places the ends of 
 marriage iu one order, and esteems them in another. 
 
186 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 His tautology also of indissoluble and individual is not 
 to be imitated ; especially since neitber indissoluble 
 nor individual batb augbt to do in the exact definition, 
 beinif but a consectary flowing' from tbence,as appears 
 by plain Scripture, " Therefore shall a man leave," \c. 
 For marriage is not true marriage by being individual, 
 Init therefore individual, if it be true marriage. No 
 argument but causes enter the definition : a conscctary 
 is but the effect of those causes. Besides, that marriage 
 is indissoluble, is not catholicly true; we know it dis- 
 soluble for adultery and for desertion by the verdict of 
 all reformed churches. Dr. Ames defines it " an indi- 
 vidual conjunction of one man and one woman, to 
 communion of body and mutual society of life :" but 
 tiiis perverts the order of God, who in the institution 
 places meet help and society of life before communion 
 of body. And vulgar estimation undervalues bej'ond 
 comparison all society of life and communion of mind 
 beneath the communion of body; granting no divorce, 
 but to the want, or miscommunicating of that. Hcmin- 
 gius, an approved author, Melancthon's scholar, and 
 who, next to Bucer and Erasmus, writes of divorce 
 most like a divine, thus comprises, " Marriage is a 
 conjunction of one man and one woman lawfully con- 
 senting, into one flesh, for mutual help's sake, ordained 
 of God." And in his explanation stands punctually 
 upon the conditions of consent, that it be not in any 
 main matter deluded, as being the life of wedlock, and 
 jio true marriage without a true consent. " Into one 
 flesh" he expounds into one mind, as well as one body, 
 and makes it the formal cause : herein only missing, 
 while he puts the effect into his definition instead of 
 the cause which the text affords him. For " one flesh" 
 is not the formal essence of wedlock, but one end, or 
 one effect of " a meet help:" the end ofttimes being 
 the effect and fruit of the form, as logic teaches: else 
 many aj^ed and holy matrimonies, and more eminently 
 that of Joseph and Mary, would be no true marriage. 
 And that Maxim generally received, would be false, 
 that " consent alone, though copulation never follow, 
 makes the marriage." Therefore to consent lawfully 
 into one flesh, is not the formal cause of matrimony, 
 but only one of the effects. The civil lawyers, and first 
 Justinian or Tribonian defines matrimony a " conjunc- 
 tion of man and woman containing individual accus- 
 tom of life." Wherein first, individual is not so bad as 
 indissoluble put in by others : and although much 
 cavil might be made in the distinguishing between in- 
 divisible and individual, yet the one taken for possible, 
 the other for actual, neither the one nor the other can 
 belong to the essence of marriage ; especially when a 
 civilian defines, by which law marriage is actually 
 divorced for many causes, and witli good leave, by 
 mutual consent. Therefore where " conjunction" is said, 
 they who comment the Institutes agree, that conjunc- 
 tion of mind is by the law meant, not necessarily con- 
 junction of body. That law then had good reason 
 attending to its own definition, that divorce should be 
 granted for the breaking of that conjunction which it 
 liolds necessary, sooner than for the want of that con- 
 junction which it holds not necessary. And whereas 
 
 Tuningus a famous lawyer, excuses individual as the 
 purpose of marriage, not always the success, it suffices 
 not. Purj>ose is not able to constitute the essence of a 
 thing. Nature herself, the universal mother, intends 
 nothing but her own perfection and preservation ; yet 
 is not the more indissoluble for that. The Pandects 
 outofModcstinus, though not define, yet well describe 
 marriage " the conjunction of male and female, the 
 society of all life, the communion of divine and human 
 right:" which Bucer also imitates on the fifth to the 
 Ephesians. But it seems rather to comprehend the 
 several ends of marriage than to contain the more con- 
 stituting cause that makes it what it is. 
 
 That I therefore among others (for m ho sings not 
 Hylas .') may give as well as take matter to be judged 
 on, it will be looked I should produce another defini- 
 tion than these which have not stood the trial. Thus 
 then I suppose that marriage by the natural and plain 
 order of God's institution in the text may be more de- 
 monstratively and essentially defined. " Marriage is 
 a divine institution, joining man and woman in a love 
 fitly disposed to the helps and comforts of domestic 
 life." " A divine institution." This contains the prime 
 efficient cause of marriage : as for consent of parents 
 and guardians, it seems rather a concurrence than a 
 cause ; for as many that marrj' are in their own power 
 as not; and where they are not their own, yet are they 
 not subjected beyond reason. Now though efficient 
 causes are not requisite in a definition, yet divine in- 
 stitution hath such influence upon the Form, and is so 
 a conserving cause of it, that without it the Form is 
 not sufficient to distinguish matrimony from other con- 
 junctions of male and female, which are not to be 
 counted marriage. " Joining man and woman in a 
 love," &c. This brings in the parties' consent; until 
 which be, the marriage hath no true being. When I 
 say " consent," I mean not errour, for eri'our is not 
 properly consent: and why should not consent be here 
 understood with equity and good to either part, as in 
 all other friendly covenants, and not be strained and 
 cruelly urged to the mischief and destruction of both ? 
 Neither do I mean that singular act of consent which 
 made the contract, for that may remain, and yet the 
 marriage not true nor lawful ; and that may cease, and 
 yet the marriage both true and lawful, to their sin that 
 break it. So that either as no efficient at all, or but a 
 transitory, it comes not into the definition. That con- 
 sent I mean, which is a love fitly disposed to mutual 
 help and comfort of life : this is that happy Form of 
 Marriage naturally arising from the very heart of di- 
 vine institution in the text, in all the former definitions 
 either obscurely, and under mistaken terms exj)rcssed, 
 or not at all. This gives marriage all her due, all her 
 benefits, all her being, all her distinct and proper being. 
 This makes a marriage not a bondage, a blessing not 
 curse, a gift of God not a snare. Unless there be a 
 love, and that love born of fitness, how cjin it last? 
 unless it last, how can the best and sweetest purposes 
 of marriage be attained .'' And they not attained, which 
 are the chief ends, and with a lawful love constitute 
 the formal cause itself of marriage, how can the essence 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 187 
 
 thereof subsist? How can it be indeed what it goes for? 
 Conclude therefore by all the power of reason, that 
 where this essence of marriage is not, there can be no 
 true marriage ; and the parties, either one of them or 
 both, are free, and without fault, rather by a nullity 
 than by a divorce, may betake them to a second choice, 
 if their present condition be not tolerable to them. If 
 any shall ask, why "domestic" in the definition? I 
 answer, that because both in the Scriptures, and in the 
 gravest poets and philosophers, I find the properties 
 and excellencies of a wife set out only from domestic 
 virtues; if they extend further, it diffuses them into 
 the notion of some more common duty than matrimo- 
 nial. 
 
 Thus far of the definition ; the consectary which 
 flows from thence, altogether depends thereon, is ma- 
 nifestly brought in by this connexive particle " there- 
 fore ;" and branches itself into a double consequence ; 
 First, individual society, "therefore shall a man leave 
 father and mother :" Secondly, conjugal benevolence, 
 "and they shall be one flesh." Which, as was shewn, 
 is not without cause here mentioned, to prevent and to 
 abolish the suspect of pollution in that natural and un- 
 defiled act. These consequences therefore cannot cither 
 in religion, law, or reason, be bound, and posted upon 
 mankind to his sorrow and misery, but receive what 
 force they have from the meetness of help and solace, 
 which is the formal cause and end of that definition 
 that sustains them. And although it be not for the 
 majesty of Scripture, to humble herself in artificial the- 
 orems, and definitions, and corollaries, like a professor 
 in the schools, but looks to be analysed, and interpreted 
 by the logical industry of her disciples and followers, 
 and to be reduced by them, as oft as need is, into those 
 sciential rules, which are the implements of instruc- 
 tion ; yet Moses, as if foreseeing the miserable work 
 that man's ignorance and pusillanimity would make in 
 (his matrimonious business, and endeavouring his ut- 
 most to prevent it, condescends in this place to such a 
 methodical and schoollike way of defining and conse- 
 quencing, as in no place of the whole law more. 
 
 Thus we have seen, and, if we be not contentious, 
 may know what was marriage in the beginning, to 
 which in the gospel we are referred ; and what from 
 hence to judge of nullity, or divorce. Here I esteem 
 the work done ; in this field the controversy decided ; 
 but because other places of Scripture seem to look 
 aversely upon this our decision, (although indeed they 
 keep all harmony with it,) and because it is a better 
 work to reconcile the seeming diversities of Scripture, 
 than the real dissensions of nearest friends; I shall 
 assay in the three following discourses to perform that 
 office. 
 
 Deut. xxiv. 1, 2. 
 
 1. " When a man hath taken a wife, and married her, 
 and it come to pass that she find no favour in his 
 eyes, because he hath found some uncleanness in 
 her, then let him write her a bill of divorcement, 
 and give it in her hand, and send her out of his 
 house. 
 
 2. And when she is departed out of his bouse, she may 
 go and be another man's wife." 
 
 That which is the only discommodity of speaking in 
 a clear matter, the abundance of argument that presses 
 to be uttered, and the suspense of judgment what to 
 choose, and how in the multitude of reason to be not 
 tedious, is the greatest difficulty which I expect here 
 to meet with. Yet much hath been said formerly 
 concerning this law in " the Doctrine of Divorce." 
 Whereof I shall repeat no more than what is necessary. 
 Two things arc here doubted : First, and that but of 
 late, whether this be a law or no; next, what this 
 reason of" uncleanness" might mean, for which the 
 law is granted. That it is a plain law no man ever 
 questioned, till Vatablus within these hundred years 
 professed Hebrew at Paris, a man of no religion, as 
 Beza deciphers him. Yet some there be who follow 
 him, not only against the current of all antiquity both 
 Jewish and Christian, but the evidence of Scripture 
 also, Malachi ii. 16, " Let him who hateth put away, 
 saith the Lord God of Israel." Although this place 
 also hath been tampered with, as if it were to be thus 
 rendered, "The Lord God saith, that he hateth putting 
 away." But this new interpretation rests only in the 
 authority of Junius : for neither Calvin, nor Vatablus 
 himself, nor any other known divine so interpreted 
 before. And they of best note who have translated the 
 Scripture since, and Diodati for one, follow not his 
 reading. And perhaps they might reject it, if for no- 
 thing else, for these two reasons: first, it introduces in 
 a new manner the person of God speaking less majestic 
 than he is ever wont : when God speaks by his prophet, 
 he ever speaks in the first person, thereby signifying 
 his majesty and omnipresence. He would have said, 
 I hate putting away, saith the Lord ; and not sent word 
 by Malachi in a sudden fallen style, " The Lord God 
 saith, that he hateth putting away :" that were a phrase 
 to shrink the glorious omnipresence of God speaking, 
 into a kind of circumscriptive absence. And were as 
 if a herald, in the achievement of a king, should com- 
 mit the indecorum to set his helmet sideways and close, 
 not full-faced and open in the posture of direction and 
 command. We cannot think therefore that this last 
 prophet would thus in a new fashion absent the person 
 of God from his own words, as if he came not along 
 with them. For it would also be wide from the proper 
 scope of this place ; he that reads attentively will soon 
 perceive, that God blames not here the Jews for putting 
 away their wives, but for keeping strange concubines, 
 to the " profaning of Juda's holiness," and the vexation 
 of their Hebrew wives, v. 11, and 14, " Judah hath 
 married the daughter of a strange god :" and exhorts 
 them rather to put their wives away whom they hate, 
 as the law permitted, than to keep them under such 
 afi'ronts. And it is received, that this prophet lived in 
 those times of Ezra and Nehemiah, (nay by some is 
 thought to be Ezra himself,) when the people were 
 forced by these two worthies to put their strange wives 
 away. So that what the story of those times, and the 
 plain context of the eleventh verse, from whence this 
 
188 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 rebuke begins, can give us to conjecture of tbe obscure 
 and curt Ebraisms that follow ; this prophet docs not 
 forbid putting away, but forbids keeping, and com- 
 mands putting' away according- to God's law, which 
 is the plainest interpreter both of what God will, 
 and what he can best suffer. Tljus much evinces, 
 that God there commanded divorce by Malachi ; and 
 this confirms, that he commands it also here by 
 Moses. 
 
 I may the less doubt to mention by the way an au- 
 thor, though counted apocryphal, yet of no small ac- 
 count for piety and wisdom, the author of Ecclesiasti- 
 cus. Which book, beg'un by the grandfather of that 
 Jesus, who is called the son of Sirach, might have been 
 written in part, not much after the time when Mala- 
 chi lived ; if we compute by the reign of Ptolemoeus 
 Euerg'etes. It professes to explain the law and the 
 prophets ; and yet exhorts us to divorce for incurable 
 causes, and to cut off from the flesh those whom it there 
 describes. Ecclesiastic, xxv. 26. Which doubtless 
 that wise and ancient writer would never have advised, 
 had either Malachi so lately forbidden it, or the law by 
 a full precept not left it lawful. But I urge not this 
 for want of better proof; our Saviour himself allows 
 divorce to be a command, Mark x. 3, 5. Neither do 
 they weaken this assertion, who say it was only a suf- 
 ferance, as shall be proved at large in that place of 
 Mark. But suppose it were not a written law, they 
 never can deny it was a custom, and so effect nothing. 
 For the same reasons that induce them why it should 
 not be a law, will straiten them as hard why it should 
 be allowed a custom. All custom is either evil, or not 
 evil; if it be evil, this is the very end of lawgiving, to 
 abolish evil customs by wholesome laws ; unless we 
 imagine Moses weaker than every negligent and start- 
 ling politician. If it be, as they make this of divorce 
 to be, a custom against nature, against justice, against 
 charity, how, upon this most impure custom tolerated, 
 could the God of pureness erect a nice and precise law, 
 that the wife married after divorce could not return to 
 her former husband, as being defiled .■* What was all 
 this following niceness worth, built upon the lewd 
 foundation of a wicked thing allowed ? In few words 
 then, this custom of divorce either was allowable, or 
 not allowable ; if not allowable, how could it be al- 
 lowed .'' if it were allowable, all who understand law 
 will consent, tliat a tolerated custom hath the force of 
 a law, and is indeed no other but an unwritten law, as 
 Justinian calls it, and is as prevalent as any written 
 statute. So that their shift of turning this law into a 
 custom wheels about, and gives the onset upon their 
 own flanks; not disproving, but concluding it to be 
 the more firm law, because it was without controversy 
 a granted custom ; as clear in the reason of common 
 life, as those given rules whereon Euclides builds his 
 propositions. 
 
 Thus being every way a law of God, who can with- 
 out blasphemy doubt it to be a just and pure law ? 
 Moses continually disavows the giving them any sta- 
 tute, or judgment, but what he learnt of God; of whom 
 also in his song he saith, Deut. xxxii. " He is the rock, 
 
 his work is perfect, all his ways are judgment, a God 
 of truth and without iniquity, just and right is he." 
 And David testifies, the judgments of the Lord " are 
 true and righteous altogether." Not partly right and 
 partly wrong, much less wrong altogether, as divines 
 of now-a-days dare censure them. Moses again, of 
 that people to whom he gave this law, saith, Deut. xiv. 
 " Ye are the children of the Lord your God, the Lord 
 hath chosen thee to be a peculiar people to himself 
 above all the nations upon the earth, that thou shouldst 
 keep all his commandments, and be high in praise, in 
 name, and in honour, holy to the Lord !" chap. xxvi. 
 And in the fourth, " Behold I have taught you statutes 
 and judgments, even as the Lord my God commanded 
 me, keep therefore and do them. For this is your wis- 
 dom and your understanding in the sight of nations 
 that shall hear all these statutes, and say, surely this 
 great nation is a wise and understanding people. For 
 what nation is there so great, who hath God so nigh to 
 them? and what nation that hath statutes and judg- 
 ments so righteous as all this law which I set before 
 you this day ?" Thus whether we look at the purity 
 and justice of God himself, the jealousy of his honour 
 among other nations, the holiness and moral perfection 
 which he intended b}' his law to teach this people, we 
 cannot possibly think how he could endure to let them 
 slug and grow inveterately wicked, under base allow- 
 ances, and whole adulterous lives by dispensation. 
 They might not eat, they might not touch an unclean 
 thing; to what hypocrisy then were they trained up, if 
 by prescription of the same law, they might be unjust, 
 they might be adulterous for term of life ? forbid to soil 
 theirgarments with a coy imaginary pollution, but not 
 forbid, but countenanced and animated by law, to soil 
 their souls with deepest defilements. What more un- 
 like to God, what more like that God should hate, than 
 that his law should be so curious to wash vessels and 
 vestures, and so careless to leave unwashed, unregard- 
 ed, so foul a scab of Egypt in their souls ? W'hat would 
 we more .'* The statutes of tbe Lord are all pure and 
 just: and if all, then this of divorce. 
 
 " Because he hath found some uncleanness in her."] 
 That we may not esteem this law to be a mere autho- 
 rizing of licence, as the Pharisees took it, Moses adds the 
 reason, for " some uncleanness found." Some heretofore 
 have been so ignorant, as to have thought, that this un- 
 cleanness means ad ultery . But Erasmus, who, for having 
 writ an excellent treatise of divorce, was wrote against 
 by some burly standard divine, perhaps of Cullen, or of 
 Lovain, who calls himself Phimostomus, shews learn- 
 edly out of the fathers, with other testimonies and 
 reasons, that uncleanness is not here so understood ; 
 defends liis former work, though new to that age, and 
 perhaps counted licentious, and fears not to engage all 
 his fame on the argument. Afterward, when exposi- 
 tors began to understand the Hebrew text, which they 
 had not done of many ages before, they translated word 
 for word not " uncleanness," but " the nakedness ol 
 any thing;" and considering that nakedness is usually 
 referred in Scripture to the mind as well as to the body, 
 they constantly expound it any defect, annoyance, or 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 189 
 
 ill quality in nature, which to be joined with, makes 
 life tedious, and such company worse than solitude. 
 So that here will be no cause to vary from the general 
 consent of exposition, which gives us freely that God 
 permitted divorce, for whatever was unalterably dis- 
 tasteful, whether in body or mind. But with this ad- 
 monishment, that if the Roman law, especially in con- 
 tracts and dowries, left many things to equity with 
 these cautions, " ex fide bona, quod oequius melius erit, 
 ut inter bonos bene agitur;" we will not grudge to 
 think, that God intended not licence here to every hu- 
 mour, but to such remediless grievances as might move 
 a good and honest and faithful man then to divorce, 
 when it can no more be peace or comfort to either of 
 them continuing thus joined. And although it could 
 not be avoided, but that men of hard hearts would abuse 
 this liberty, 3'et doubtless it was intended, as all other 
 privileges in law are, to good men principally, to bad 
 only by accident. So that the sin was not in the per- 
 mission, nor simply in the action of divorce, (for then 
 the permitting also had been sin,) but only in the abuse. 
 But that this law should, as it were, be wrung from 
 God and Moses, only to serve the hardheartedness, and 
 the lust of injurious men, how remote it is from all 
 sense, and law, and honesty, and therefore surely from 
 the meaning of Christ, shall abundantly be manifest 
 in due order. 
 
 Now although Moses needed not to add other reason 
 of this law than that one there expressed, yet to these 
 ages wherein canons, and Scotisms, and liOmbard laws, 
 have dulled, and almost obliterated the lively sculpture 
 of ancient reason and humanity; it will be requisite to 
 heap reason upon reason, and all little enough to vin- 
 dicate the whiteness and the innocence of this divine 
 law, from the calumny it finds at this day, of being a 
 door to licence and confusion. Whcnas indeed there is 
 not a judicial point in all Moses, consisting of more 
 true equity, high wisdom, and godlike pity than this 
 law ; not derogating, but preserving the honour and 
 peace of marriage, and exactly agreeing with the sense 
 and mind of that institution in Genesis. 
 
 For, first, if marriage be but an ordained relation, as 
 it seems not more, it cannot take place above the prime 
 dictates of nature: and if it be of natural right, yet it 
 must yield to that which is more natural, and before it 
 by eldership and precedence in nature. Now it is not 
 natural, that Hugh marries Beatrice, or Thomas Re- 
 becca, being only a civil contract, and full of many 
 chances ; but that these men seek them meet helps, 
 that only is natural ; and that they espouse them such, 
 that only is marriage. But if they find them neither 
 fit helps nor tolerable society-, what thing more natural, 
 more original, and first in nature, than to depart from 
 that which is irksome, grievous, actively hateful, and 
 injurious even to hostility, especially in a conjugal re- 
 spect, wherein antipathies are invincible, and where 
 the forced abiding of the one can be no true good, no 
 real comfort to the other? For if he find no content- 
 ment from the other, how can he return it from himself? 
 or no acceptance, how can he mutually accept ? What 
 more equal, more pious, than to untie a civil knot for a 
 
 natural enmity held by violence from parting, to dis- 
 solve an accidental conjunction of this or that man and 
 woman, for the most natural and most necessary dis- 
 agreement of meet from unmeet, guilty from guiltless, 
 contrary from contrary? It being certain, that the 
 mystical and blessed unity of marriage can be no way 
 more unhallowed and profaned, than by the forcible 
 uniting of such disunions and separations. Which if 
 we see ofttimes they cannot join or piece up a common 
 friendship, or to a willing conversation in the same 
 house, how should they possibly agree to the most fa- 
 miliar and united amity of wedlock ? Abraham and 
 Lot, though dear friends and brethren in a strange 
 country, chose rather to part asunder, than to infect 
 their friendship with the strife of their servants: Paul 
 and Barnabas, joined together by the Holy Ghost to a 
 spiritual work, thouglit it better to separate, when once 
 they grew at variance. If these great saints, joined 
 by nature, friendship, religion, high providence, and 
 revelation, could not so govern a casual diflference, a 
 sudden passion, but must in wisdom divide from the 
 outward duties of a friendship, or a colleagueship in 
 the same family, or in the same journey, lest it should 
 grow to a worse division ; can any thing be more ab- 
 surd and barbarous, than that they whom only errour, 
 casualty, art, or plot, hath joined, should be compelled, 
 not against a sudden passion, but against the perma- 
 nent and radical discords of nature, to the most inti- 
 mate and incorporating duties of love and embrace- 
 ment, therein only rational and human, as they are free 
 and voluntary ; being else an abject and servile yoke, 
 scarce not brutish ? and that there is in man such a 
 peculiar sway of liking or disliking in the affairs of 
 matrimony, is evidently seen before marriage among 
 those who can be friendly, can respect each other, yet 
 to marry each other would not for any persuasion. If 
 then this unfitness and disparity be not till after mar- 
 riage discovered, through many causes, and colours,, 
 and concealments, that may overshadow ; undoubtedly 
 it will produce the same effects, and perhaps with more 
 vehemence, that such a mistaken pair would give the 
 world to be unmamed again. And their condition 
 Solomon to the plain justification of divorce expresses, 
 Prov. XXX. 21, 23, where he tells us of his own accord, 
 that a " hated, or a hateful woman, when she is mar- 
 ried, is a thing for which the earth is disquieted, and 
 cannot bear it :" thus giving divine testimony to this 
 divine law, which bids us nothing more than is the 
 first and most innocent lesson of nature, to turn away 
 peaceably from what afflicts, and hazards our destruc- 
 tion ; especially when our staying can do no good, and 
 is exposed to all evil. 
 
 Secondly, It is unjust that any ordinance, ordained 
 to the good and comfort of man, where 'hat end is 
 missing, without his fault, should be forced upon him 
 to an unsufferable misery and discomfort, if not com- 
 monly ruin. All ordinances are established in their 
 end ; the end of law is the virtue, is the righteousness 
 of law : and therefore him we count an ill expounder, 
 who urges law against the intention thereof. The 
 general end of every ordinance, of every severest, every 
 
190 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 divinest, even of Sabbath, is the good of man; yea his 
 temporal good not excluded. But marriage is one of 
 the benignest ordinances of God to man, whereof both 
 the general and particular end is the peace and con- 
 tentment of man's mind, as the institution declares. 
 Contentment of body they grant, which if it be de- 
 frauded, the plea of frigidity shall divorce : but here 
 lies the fathomless absurdity, that granting this for 
 bodily defect, they will not grant it for any defect of 
 the mind, any violation of religfious or civil society. 
 Whenas, if the argument of Christ be firm against the 
 ruler of the synagogue, Luke xiii. " Thou hypocrite, 
 doth not each of you on the Sabbath-day loosen his ox 
 or his ass from the stall, and lead him to watering, and 
 should not I unbind a daughter of Abraham from this 
 bond of Satan .'"' it stands as good here ; ye have re- 
 gard in marriage to the grievance of body, should you 
 not regard more the grievances of the mind, seeing the 
 soul as much excels the body, as the outward man ex- 
 cels the ass, and more .'* for that animal is yet a living 
 creature, perfect in itself; but the body without the 
 soul is a mere senseless trunk. No ordinance there- 
 fore, given particularly to the good both spiritual and 
 temporal of man, can be urged upon him to his mis- 
 chief; and if they yield this to the un worthier part, 
 the body, whereabout are they in their principles, that 
 they yield it not to the more worthy, the mind of a 
 good man ? 
 
 Thirdly, As no ordinance, so no covenant, no not 
 between God and man, much less between man and 
 man, being, as all are, intended to the good of both 
 parties, can hold to the deluding or making miserable 
 of them both. For equity is understood in every cove- 
 nant, even between enemies, though the terms be not 
 expressed. If equity therefore made it, extremity may 
 dissolve it. But marriage, they used to say, is the 
 covenant of God. Undoubted : and so if any covenant 
 frequently called in Scripture, wherein God is called 
 to witness : the covenant of friendship between David 
 and Jonathan is called the covenant of the Lord, 1 Sam. 
 XX. The covenant of Zedekiah with the king of Ba- 
 bel, a covenant to be doubted whether lawful or no, 
 yet, in respect of God invoked thereto, is called " the 
 oath, and the covenant of God," Ezek. xvii. Marriage 
 also is called " the covenant of God," Prov. ii. 17, 
 Why, but as before, because God is the witness thereof, 
 Mai. ii. 14. So that this denomination adds nothing 
 to the covenant of marriage, above any other civil and 
 solemn contract: nor is it more indissoluble for this 
 reason than any other against the end of its own ordi- 
 nation ; nor is any vow or oath to God exacted with 
 such a rigour, where superstition reigns not. For look 
 how much divine the covenant is, so much the more 
 equal, so much the more to be expected that every 
 article thereof should be fairly made good ; no false 
 dealing or unperforming should be thrust upon men 
 without redress, if the covenant be so divine. But 
 faith, they say, must be kept in covenant, though to 
 our damage. I answer, that only holds true, where the 
 other side performs; which failing, he is no longer 
 bound. Again, tins is true, when the keeping of faith 
 
 can be of any use or benefit to the other. But in mar- 
 riage, a league of love and willingness, if faith be not 
 willingly kept, it scarce is worth the keeping; nor can 
 be any delight to a generous mind, with whom it is 
 forcibly kept : and the question still supposes the one 
 brought to an impossibility of keeping it as he ought, 
 by the other's default ; and to keep it formally, not only 
 with a thousand shifts and dissimulations, but with open 
 anguish, perpetual sadness and disturbance, no willing- 
 ness, no cheerfulness, no contentment ; cannot be any 
 good to a mind not basely poor and shallow, with 
 whom the contract of love is so kept. A covenant 
 therefore brought to that pass, is on the unfaulty side 
 without injury dissolved. 
 
 Fourthly, The law is not to neglect men under 
 greatest sufferances, but to see covenants of greatest 
 moment faithfullest performed. And what injury com- 
 parable to that sustained in a frustrate and false-deal- 
 ing marriage, to lose, for another's fault against him, 
 the best portion of his temporal comforts, and of his 
 spiritual too, as it may fall out.** It was the law, that 
 for man's good and quiet reduced things to propriety, 
 which were at first in common ; how much more law- 
 like were it to assist nature in disappropriating that 
 evil, which by continuing proper becomes destructive ? 
 But he might have bewared. So he might in any 
 other covenant, wherein the law docs not constrain 
 errour to so dear a forfeit. And yet in these matters 
 wherein the wisest are apt to err, all the wariness that 
 can be ofttimes nothing avails. But the law can com- 
 pel the offending party to be more duteous. Yes, if all 
 these kind of offences were fit in public to be complained 
 of, or being compelled were any satisfaction to a mate 
 not sottish, or malicious. And these injuries work so 
 vehemently, that if the law remedy them not, by sepa- 
 rating the cause when no way else will pacify, the 
 person not relieved betakes him either to such disorderly 
 courses, or to such a dull dejection, as renders him 
 either infamous, or useless to the service of God and his 
 country. Which the law ought to prevent as a thing 
 pernicious to the commonwealth ; and what better pre- 
 vention than this which Moses used ? 
 
 Fifthly, The law is to tender the liberty and the hu- 
 man dignity of them that live under the law, whether 
 it be the man's right above the woman, or the woman's 
 just appeal against wrong and servitude. But the du- 
 ties of marriage contain in them a duty of benevolence, 
 which to do by compulsion against the soul, where 
 there can be neither peace, nor joy, nor love, but an 
 cnthralment to one who either cannot or will not be 
 mutual in the godliest and the civilest ends of that 
 society, is the ignoblest and the lowest slavery that a 
 human shape can be put to. This law therefore justly 
 and piously provides against such an unmanly task of 
 bondage as this. The civil law, though it favoured 
 the setting free of a slave, yet, if he proved ungratclul 
 to his patron, reduced him to a servile condition. If 
 that law did well to reduce from liberty to bondage 
 for an ingratitude not the greatest, much more became 
 it the law of God, to enact the restorcmcnt of a free- 
 bom man from an unpurposed and unworthy bondage .' 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 191 
 
 to a lig-iilful liberty, for the most unnatural fraud and 
 iii"Tatitude that can be committed against him. And 
 if that civilian emperor, in his title of " Donations," 
 permit the giver to recall his gift from him who proves 
 unthankful towards him ; yea, though he had sub- 
 scribed and signed in the deed of his gift not to recall 
 it, though for this very cause of ingratitude ; with much 
 more equity doth Moses permit here the giver to recall 
 no petty gift, but the gift of himself, from one who 
 most injuriously and deceitfully uses him against the 
 main ends and conditions of his giving himself, ex- 
 pressed in God's institution. 
 
 Sixthly, Although there be nothing in the plain 
 words of this law, that seems to regard the afflictions 
 of a wife, how great soever ; yet expositors determine, 
 and doubtless determine rightly, that God was not un- 
 compassionate of them also in the framing of this law. 
 For should the rescript of Antoninus in the civil law 
 give release to servants flying for refuge to the empe- 
 ror's statue, by giving leave to change their cruel 
 masters; and should God, who in his law also is good 
 to injured servants, by granting them their freedom 
 in divers cases, not consider the wrongs and miseries 
 of a wife, which is no servant.'' Though herein the 
 countersense of our divines to me, I must confess, 
 seems admirable ; who teach that God gave this as a 
 merciful law, not for man whom he here names, and 
 to whom by name he gives this power; but for the 
 wife, whom he names not, and to whom by name he 
 gives no power at all. For cenainly if man be liable 
 to injuries in marriage, as well as woman, and man 
 be the worthier person, it were a preposterous law to 
 respect only the less worthy; her whom God made 
 for marriage, and not hitn at all for whom marriage 
 was made. 
 
 Seventhly, The law of marriage gives place to the 
 power of parents : for we hold, that consent of parents 
 not had may break the wedlock, though else accom- 
 plished. It gives place to masterly power, for the 
 master might take away from a Hebrew servant the 
 wife which he gave him, Exod. xxi. If it be an- 
 swered, that the marriage of servants is no matrimony; 
 it is replied, that this in the ancient Roman law is 
 true, not in the Mosaic. If it be added, she was a stran- 
 ger, not a Hebrew, therefore easily divorced ; it will be 
 answered, that strangers not being Canaanites, and 
 they also being converts, might be lawfully married, 
 as Rahab was. And her conversion is here supposed ; 
 for a Hebrew master could not lawfully give a heathen 
 wife to a Hebrew servant. However, the divorcing of 
 an Israelitish woman was as easy by the law, as the 
 divorcing of a stranger, and almost in the same words 
 permitted, Deut. xxiv. and Deut. xxi. Lastly, it gives 
 place to the right of war, for a captive woman lawfully 
 married, and afterwards not beloved, might be dis- 
 missed, only without ransom, Deut. xxi. If marriage 
 be dissolved by so many exterior powers, not superior, 
 as we think, why may not the power of marriage itself, 
 for its own peace and honour, dissolve itself, where the 
 persons wedded be free persons? Why may not a 
 greater and more natural power complaining dissolve 
 
 marriage.'' For the ends, why matrimony was or- 
 dained, are certainly and by all logic above the ordi- 
 nance itself ; why may not that dissolve marriage, 
 without wliich that institution hath no force at all ? 
 For the prime ends of marriage are the whole strength 
 and validity thereof, without which matrimony is like 
 an idol, nothing in the world. But those former al- 
 lowances were all for hardness of heart. Be that 
 granted, until we come where to understand it better ; 
 if the law suffer thus far the obstinacy of a bad man, is 
 it not more righteous here, to do willingly what is but 
 equal, to remove in season the extremities of a good 
 man .'' 
 
 Eighthly, If a man bad deflowered a virgin, or 
 brought an ill name on his wife, that she came not a 
 virgin to him, he was amerced in certain shekels of 
 silver, and bound never to divorce her all his days, 
 Deut. xxii. which shews that the law gave no liberty 
 to divorce, where the injury was palpable; and that 
 the absolute forbidding to divorce was in part the 
 punishment of a deflowerer, and a defamer. Yet not 
 so but that the wife questionless might depart when 
 she pleased. Otherwise this course had not so much 
 righted her, as delivered her up to more spite and 
 cruel usage. This law therefore doth justly distin- 
 guish the privilege of an honest and blameless man in 
 the matter of divorce, from the punishment of a noto- 
 rious oflfender. 
 
 Ninthly, Suppose it should be imputed to a man, 
 that he was too rash in his choice, and why he took not 
 better heed, let him now smart, and bear his folly as 
 he may; although the law of God, that terrible law, 
 do not thus upbraid the infirmities and unwilling mis- 
 takes of man in his integrity : but suppose these and 
 the like proud aggravations of some stern hypocrite, 
 more merciless in his mercies, than any literal law in 
 the rigour of severity, must be patiently heard ; yet all 
 law, and God's law especially, grants every where to 
 errour easy remitments, even where the utmost penalty 
 exacted were no undoing. With great reason there- 
 fore and mercy doth it here not torment an errour, if it 
 be so, with the endurance of a whole life lost to all 
 household comfort and society, a punishment of too 
 vast and huge dimension for an errour, and the more 
 unreasonable for that the like objection may be op- 
 ])osed against the plea of divorcing for adultery : he 
 might have looked better before to her breeding under 
 religious parents : why did he not more diligently in- 
 quire into her manners, into what company she kept .-' 
 every glance of her eye, every step of her gait, would 
 have prophesied adultery, if the quick scent of these 
 discemers had been took along ; they had the divina- 
 tion to have foretold you all this, as they have now the 
 divinity to punish an errour inhumanly. As good rea- 
 son to be content, and forced to be content with your 
 adulteress, if these objectors might be the judges of 
 human frailty. But God, more mild and good to man, 
 than man to his brother, in all this liberty given to 
 divorcement, mentions not a word of our past errours 
 and mistakes, if any were ; which these men objecting 
 from their own inventions, prosecute with all violence 
 
192 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 and iniquity. For if the one be to look so narrowly 
 what he takes, at the peril of ever keeping, why should 
 not the other be made as wary what is promised, by 
 the peril of losing- ? for without those promises the 
 treaty of marriage had not proceeded. Why should 
 bis own errour bind him, rather than the other's fraud 
 acquit him .' I^ct the buyer beware, saith the old law- 
 beaten termer. Belike then there is no more honesty, 
 nor ingenuity in the bargain of a wedlock, than in the 
 buying of a colt : we must it seems drive it on as craft- 
 ily with those whose affinity wc seek, as if they were a 
 pack of salemen and complotters. But the deceiver de- 
 ceives himself in the unprosperous marriage, and there- 
 in is sufficiently punished. I answer, that the most of 
 those who deceive are such as either understand not, 
 or value not the true purposes of marriage ; they have 
 the prey they seek, not the punishment: yet say it 
 prove to them some cross, it is not equal that errour 
 and fraud should be linked in the same degree of for- 
 feiture, but rather that errour should be acquitted, and 
 fraud bereaved his morsel, if the mistake were not on 
 both sides ; for then on both sides the acquitment would 
 be reasonable, if the bondage be intolerable ; which 
 this law gfraciously determines, not unmindful of the 
 wife, as was granted willingly to the common exposi- 
 tors, though beyond the letter of this law, yet not be- 
 yond the spirit of charity. 
 
 Tenthly, Marriage is a solemn thing, some say a 
 holy, the resemblance of Christ and his church : and 
 so indeed it is where the persons are truly religious ; 
 and we know all sacred things, not performed sin- 
 cerely as they ought, are no way acceptable to God in 
 their outward formality. And that wherein it differs 
 from personal duties, if they be not truly done, the 
 fault is in oui-selves ; but marriage to be a true and 
 pious marriage is not in the single power of any per- 
 son ; the essence whereof, as of all other covenants, is 
 in relation to another, the making and maintaining 
 causes thereof are all mutual, and must be a commu- 
 nion of spiritual and temporal comforts. If then either 
 of them cannot, or obstinately will not, be answerable 
 in these duties, so as that the other can have no peace- 
 ful living, or endure the want of what he justly seeks, 
 and sees no hope, then straight from that dwelling, 
 love, which is the soul of wedlock, takes his flight, 
 leaving only some cold performances of civil and com- 
 mon respects ; but the true bond of marriage, if there 
 were ever any there, is already burst like a rotten thread. 
 Then follows dissimulation, suspicion, false colours, 
 false pretences, and worse than these, disturbance, an- 
 noyance, vexation, sorrow, temptation even in the 
 faultless person, weary of himself, and of all actions 
 public or domestic ; then comes disorder, neglect, 
 hatred, and perpetual strife ; all these the enemies of 
 holiness and Christianity, and everyone persisted in, a 
 remediless violation of matrimony. Therefore God, 
 who hates all feigning and formality, where there 
 should be all faith and sincereness, and abhors the in- 
 evitable discord, where there should be greater concord ; 
 when through another's default faith and concord can- 
 not be, counts it neither just to punish the innocent 
 
 with the transgressor, nor holy, nor honourable for the 
 sanctity of marriage, that should be the union of peace 
 and love, to be made the commitment and close fight 
 of enmity and hate. And therefore doth in this law 
 what best agrees with his goodness, loosening a sacred 
 thing to peace and charity, rather than binding it to 
 hatred and contention ; loosening only the outward and 
 formal tie of tliat which is already inwardly and really 
 broken, or else was really never joined. 
 
 Eleventhly, One of the chief matrimonial ends is 
 said to seek a holy seed ; but where an unfit marriage 
 administers continual cause of hatred and distemper, 
 there, as was heard before, cannot choose but much 
 unholiness abide. Nothing more unhallows a man, 
 more unprepares him to the service of God in any duty, 
 than a habit of wrath and perturbation, arising from 
 the importunity of troublous causes never absent. And 
 where the household stands in this plight, what love 
 can there be to the unfortunate issue, what care of 
 their breeding, which is of main conducement to their 
 being holy.'' God therefore, knowing how unhappy it 
 would be for children to be born in such a family, gives 
 this law as a prevention, that, being an unhappy pair, 
 they should not add to be unhappy parents, or else as 
 a remedy that if there be children, while they are few- 
 est, they may follow either parent, as shall be agreed, 
 or judged, from the house of hatred and discord to a 
 place of more holy and peaceable education. 
 
 Twelfthly, All law is available to some good end, 
 but the final prohibition of divorce avails to no good 
 end, causing only the endless aggravation of evil, and 
 therefore this permission of divorce was given to the 
 Jews by the wisdom and fatherly providence of God ; 
 who knew that law cannot command love, without 
 which matrimony hath no true being, no good, no 
 solace, nothing of God's instituting, nothing but so 
 sordid and so low, as to be disdained of any generous 
 person. Law cannot enable natural inability either of 
 body, or mind, which gives the grievance ; it cannot 
 make equal those inequalities, it cannot make fit those 
 unfitnesses ; and where there is malice more than de- 
 fect of nature, it cannot hinder ten thousand injuries, 
 and bitter actions of despight, too subtle and too unap- 
 parent for law to deal with. And while it seeks to 
 remedy more outward wrongs, it exposes the injured 
 person to other more inward and more cutting. All 
 these evils unavoidably will redound upon the children, 
 if any be, and upon the whole family. It degenerates 
 and disorders the best spirits, leaves them to unsettled 
 imaginations, and degraded hopes, careless of them- 
 selves, their households, and their friends, unactive to all 
 public service, dead to the commonwealth ; wherein 
 they are by one mishap, and no willing trespass of 
 theirs, outlawed from all the benefits and comforts of 
 married life and posterity. It confers as little to the 
 honour and inviolable keeping of matrimony, but sooner 
 stirs up temptations and occasions to secret adulteries 
 and unchaste roving. But it maintains public honesty. 
 Public folly rather; who shall judge of public honesty? 
 The law of God and of ancientest Christians, and all 
 civil nations ; or the illegitimate law of monks and 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 193 
 
 canonists, the most malevolent, most unexperienced, 
 most incompetent judges of matrimony ? 
 
 These reasons, and many more that might be alleged, 
 afford US plainly to perceive both what good cause this 
 law had to do for good men in mischances, and what 
 necessity it had to suffer accidentally the hardhearted- 
 ness of bad men, which it could not certainly discover, 
 or discovering could not subdue, no nor endeavour to 
 restrain without multiplying sorrow to them, for whom 
 all was endeavoured. The guiltless therefore were not 
 deprived their needful redresses, and the hard hearts of 
 others, unchastisable in those judicial courts, were so 
 remitted there, as bound over to the higher session of 
 conscience. 
 
 Notwithstanding all this, there is a loud exception 
 against this law of God, nor can the holy Author save 
 his law from this exception, that it opens a door to all 
 licence and confusion. But this is the rudest, I was 
 almost saying the most graceless objection, and with 
 the least reverence to God and Moses, that could be 
 devised: this is to cite God before man's tribunal, to 
 arrogate a wisdom and holiness above him. Did not 
 God then foresee what event of licence or confusion 
 could follow .-* Did not he know how to ponder these 
 abuses with more prevailing respects, in the most even 
 balance of his justice and poreuess, till these correctors 
 came up to shew him better? The law is, if it stir up 
 sin any way, to stir it up by forbidding, as one con- 
 trary excites another, Rom. vii.; but if it once come to 
 provoke sin, by granting licence to sin, according to 
 laws tijat have no other honest end, but only to permit 
 the fulfilling of obstinate lust, how is God not made 
 the contradictor of himself? No man denies, that best 
 things may be abused; but it is a rule resulting from 
 many pregnant experiences, that what doth most harm 
 in the abusing, used rightly doth most good. And 
 such a good to take away from honest men, for being 
 abused by such as abuse all things, is the greatest 
 abuse of all. That the whole law is no further useful, 
 than as a man uses it lawfully, St. Paul teaches, 1 Tim. 
 i. And that christian liberty may be used for an oc- 
 casion to the flesh, the same apostle confesses, Gal. v. ; 
 yet thinks not of removing it for that, but bids us rather 
 " stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath freed 
 us, and not be held again in the yoke of bondage." 
 The very pei mission, which Christ gave to divorce for 
 adultery, may be foully abused, by any whose hard- 
 ness of heart can either feign adultery, or dares com- 
 mit, that he may divorce. And for this cause the pope, 
 and hitherto the church of England, forbid all divorce 
 from the bond of marriage, though for openest adultery. 
 If then it be righteous to hinder, for the fear of abuse, 
 that which God's law, notwithstanding tliat caution, 
 hath warranted to be done, doth not our righteousness 
 come short of Antichrist ? or do we not rather herein 
 conform ourselves to his unrighteousness in this undue 
 and unwise fear ? For God regards more to relieve by 
 this law the just complaints of good men, than to curb 
 the licence of wicked men, to the crushing withal, and 
 ttie overwhelming of his afflicted servants. He loves 
 more that his law should look with pity upon the diffi- 
 
 culties of his own, than with rigour upon the bound- 
 less riots of them who serve another master, and, hin- 
 dered here by strictness, will break another way to 
 worse enormities. If this law therefore have many 
 good reasons for which God gave it, and no intention 
 of giving scope to lewdness, but as abuse by accident 
 comes in with every good law, and every good thing ; 
 it cannot be wisdom in us, while we can content us 
 with God's wisdom, nor can be purity, if his purity 
 will suffice us, to except against this law, as if it fostered 
 licence. lUit if they affirm this law had no other end, 
 but to permit obdurate lust, because it would be ob- 
 durate, making the law of God intentionally to pro- 
 claim and enact sin lawful, as if the will of God were 
 become sinful, or sin stronger than his direct and law- 
 giving will ; the men would be admonished to look 
 well to it, that while they are so eager to shut the door 
 against licence, they do not open a worse door to blas- 
 phemy. And yet they shall be here further shewn 
 their iniquity : what more foul common sin among us 
 than drunkenness? And who can be ignorant, that if 
 the importation of wine, and the use of all strong 
 drink, were forbid, it would both clean rid the possi- 
 bility of committing that odious vice, and men might 
 afterwards live happily and healthfully without the 
 use of those intoxicating liquors ? Yet who is there, 
 the severest of them all, that ever propounded to lose 
 his sack, bis ale, toward the certain abolishing of so 
 great a sin ? who is there of them, the holiest, that less 
 loves his rich canary at meals, tliough it be fetched 
 from places that hazard the religion of them who fetch 
 it, and though it make his neighbour drunk out of the 
 same tun ? While they forbid not therefore the use of 
 that liquid merchandise, which forbidden would ut- 
 terly remove a most loathsome sin, and not impair either 
 the health or the refreshment of mankind, supplied 
 many other ways : why do they forbid a law of God, 
 the forbidding whereof brings into excessive bondage 
 ofttimes the best of men, and betters not the worse ? 
 He, to remove a national vice, will not pardon his cups, 
 nor think it concerns him to forbear the quaffing of that 
 outlandish grape, in bis unnecessary fulness, though 
 other men abuse it never so much ; nor is he so abste- 
 mious as to intercede with the magistrate, that all mat- 
 ter of drunkenness be banished the commonwealth ; 
 and yet for the fear of a less inconvenience unpardon- 
 ably requires of his brethren, in their extreme necessity, 
 to debar themselves the use of God's permissive law, 
 though it might be their saving, and no man's endan- 
 gering the more. Thus this peremptory strictness we 
 may discern of what sort it is, how unequal, and how 
 unjust. 
 
 But it will breed confusion. What confusion it 
 would breed God himself took the care to prevent in 
 the fourth verse of this chapter, that the divorced,being 
 married to another, might not return to her former 
 husband. And Justinian's law counsels the same in 
 his title of" Nuptials." And what confusion else can 
 there be in separation, to separate upon extreme 
 urgency the religious from the irreligious, the fit from 
 the unfit, the willing from the wilful, the abused from 
 
194 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 the abuser ? Such a separation is quite contrarj to con- 
 fusion. But to bind and mix together holy with 
 atheist, heavenly with liellish, fitness with unfitness, 
 light with darkness, antipathy with antipathy, the in- 
 jured with the injurer, and force them into the most 
 inward nearness of a detested union ; this doubtless is 
 the most horrid, the most unnatural mixture, the great- 
 est confusion that can be confused. 
 
 Thus by this plain and Christian Talmud, vindi- 
 cating the law of God from irreverent and unwary ex- 
 positions, I trust, where it shall meet with intelligent 
 perusers, some stay at least in men's thoughts will be 
 obtained, to consider these many prudent and righteous 
 ends of this divorcing permission : that it may have, 
 for the great Author's sake, hereafter some competent 
 allowance to be counted a little purer than the preroga- 
 tive of a legal and public ribaldry, granted to that holy 
 seed. So that from hence we shall hope to find the 
 way still more open to the reconciling of those places, 
 which treat this matter in the gospel. And thither now 
 witliout interruption the course of method brings us. 
 
 Matt. v. 31, 32. 
 
 31. " It hath been said. Whosoever shall put away his 
 wife, let him give her a writing of divorcement." 
 
 32. " But I say unto you, That whosoever shall put 
 away his wife," &c. 
 
 Matt. xix. 3, 4, &c. 
 
 3. " And the Pharisees also came unto him, tempting 
 him," &c. 
 
 " It hath been said."] What hitherto hath been spoke 
 upon the law of God touching matrimony or divorce, 
 he who will deny to have been argued according to 
 reason and all equity of Scripture, I cannot edify how, 
 or by what rule of proportion, that man's virtue calcu- 
 lates, what his elements are, nor what his analytics. 
 Confidently to those who have read good books, and 
 to those whose reason is not an illiterate book to them- 
 selves, I appeal, whether they would not confess all 
 this to be the commentary of truth and justice, were it 
 not for these recited words of our Saviour. And if they 
 take not back that which they thus grant, nothing 
 sooner might persuade them that Christ here teaches 
 no new precept, and nothing sooner might direct them 
 to find his meaning than to compare and measure it by 
 the rules of nature and eternal righteousness, which no 
 written law extinguishes, and the gospel least of all. 
 For what can be more opposite and disparaging to the 
 covenant of love, of freedom, and of our manhood in 
 grace, than to be made the yoking pedagogue of new 
 severities, the scribe of syllables and rigid letters, not 
 only grievous to the best of men, but different and 
 strange from the light of reason in them, save only as 
 they are fain to stretch and distort their apprehensions, 
 for fear of displeasing the verbal straitncss of a text. 
 
 which our own servile fear gives us not the Icisuie to 
 understand aright .-' If tiie law of Christ shall be w rit- 
 ten in our hearts, as was promised to the gospel, Jer. 
 xxxi. how can this in the vulgar and superficial sense 
 be a law of Christ, so far from being written in our 
 hearts, that it injures and disallows not only the free 
 dictates of nature and moral law, but of charity also 
 and religion in our hearts ? Our Saviour's doctrine is, 
 that the end and the fulfilling of every command is 
 charity ; no faith without it, no truth without it, no 
 worship, no works pleasing to God but as they partake 
 of charity. He himself sets us an example, breaking 
 the solemnest and strictest ordinance of religious rest, 
 and justified the breaking, not to cure a dying man, 
 but such whose cure might without danger have been 
 deferred. And wherefore needs must the sick man's 
 bed be carried on that day by his appointment ? And 
 why were the disciples, who could not forbear on that 
 day to pluck the com, so industriously defended, but 
 to shew us, that, if he preferred the slightest occasions 
 of man's good before the observing of highest and 
 severest ordinances, he gave us much more easy leave 
 to break the intolerable yoke of a never well-joined 
 wedlock for the removing of our heaviest afflictions ? 
 Therefore it is, that the most of evangelic precepts are 
 given us in proverbial forms, to drive us from the let- 
 ter, though we love ever to be sticking there. For no 
 other cause did Christ assure us that whatsoever things 
 we bind, or slacken on earth, are so in heaven, but to 
 signify that the christian arbitrement of charity is su- 
 preme decider of all controversy, and supreme resolver 
 of all Scripture, not as the pope determines for his own 
 tyranny, but as the church ought to determine for its 
 own true liberty. Hence Eusebius, not far from the 
 beginning of his history, compares the state of Chris- 
 tians to that of Noah and the patriarchs before the law. 
 And this indeed was the reason why apostolic tradition 
 in the ancient church was counted nigh equal to the 
 written word, though it carried them at length awry, 
 for want of considering that tradition was not left to 
 be imposed as law, but to be a pattern of that christian 
 prudence and liberty, which holy men by right assumed 
 of old ; which truth was so evident, that it found en- 
 trance even into the council of Trent, when the point 
 of tradition came to be discussed. And Marinaro, a 
 learned Carmelite, for approaching too near the true 
 cause that gave esteem to tradition, that is to say, the 
 difference between the Old and New Testament, the 
 one punctually prescribing written law, the other 
 guiding by the inward spirit, was reprehended by Car- 
 dinal Pool as one that had spoken more wortliy a 
 German Colloquy, than a general council. I omit 
 many instances, many proofs and arguments of this 
 kind, which alone would compile a just volume, and 
 shall content me here to have shewn briefly, that the 
 great and almost only commandment of the gospel is, 
 to command nothing against the good of man, and 
 much more no civil command against his civil good. 
 If we understand not this, we are but cracked cymbals, 
 we do but tinkle, we know nothing, we do nothing, all 
 the sweat of our toilsomcst obedience will but mock 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 195 
 
 us. And what we suffer superstitiously returns us no 
 thanks. Thus medicining- our eyes, we need not doubt 
 to see more into the meanin|^ of these our Saviour's 
 words, tlian many who have g-one before us. 
 
 " It hath been said, whosoever shall put away his 
 wife."] Our Saviour was by the doctors of his time 
 suspected of intending to dissolve the law. In this 
 chapter he wipes off this aspersion upon his accusers, 
 and shews, how they were the lawbreakers. In every 
 commonwealth, when it decays, corruption makes two 
 main steps ; first, when men cease to do according to 
 the inward and uncompelled actions of virtue, caring 
 only to live by the outward constraint of law, and turn 
 the simplicity of real good into the craft of seeming so 
 by law. To this hypocritical honesty was Rome de- 
 clined in that age wherein Horace lived, and discovered 
 it to Quintius. 
 
 Whom do we count a good man, whom but he 
 Who keep the laws and statutes of the Senate? 
 Who judges in great suits and controversies? 
 Whose witness and opinion wins the cause ? 
 But his own house, and the whole neighbourhood 
 Sees his foul inside through his whited skin. 
 
 The next declining is, when law becomes now too 
 strait for the secular manners, and those too loose for 
 the cincture of law. This brings in false and crooked 
 interpretations to eke out law, and invents the subtle 
 encroachment of obscure traditions hard to be disproved. 
 To both these descents the Pharisees themselves were 
 fallen. Our Saviour therefore shews them both where 
 they broke the law, in not marking the divine intent 
 thereof, but only the letter ; and where they depraved 
 the letter also with sophistical expositions. This law 
 of divorce they had depraved both ways : first, by 
 teaching that to give a bill of divorce was all the duty 
 which that law required, whatever the cause were ; 
 next by running to divorce for any trivial, accidental 
 cause ; whcnas the law evidently stays in the grave 
 causes of natural and immutable dislike. " It hath 
 been said," saith he. Christ doth not put any con- 
 tempt or discsteem upon the law of Moses, by citing it 
 so briefly ; for in the same manner God himself cites a 
 law of greatest caution, Jer. iii. " They say if a man 
 put away his wife, shall he return to her again ?" <Scc. 
 Nor doth he more abolish it than the law of swearing, 
 cited next with the same brevity, and more appearance 
 of contradicting : for divorce hath an exception left it; 
 but we arc charged there, as absolutely as words can 
 charge us, " not to swear at all ; " yet who denies the 
 lawfulness of an oath, though here it be in no case per- 
 mitted .'' And what shall become of his solemn protes- 
 tation not to abolish one law, or one tittle of any law, 
 especially of those which he mentions in this chapter ? 
 And that he meant more particularly the not abolishing 
 of Mosaic divorce, is beyond all cavil manifest in Luke 
 xvi. 17, 18, where this clause against abrogating is in- 
 serted immediately before the sentence against divorce, 
 as if it were called thither on purpose to defend the 
 equity of this particular law against the foreseen rash- 
 
 • The first edition has judicial, but as that word may not be so univer- 
 sally uaderstotHl in this place as ></aiVa/, (though the meaning of both 
 O 
 
 ness of common textuaries, who abolish laws, as the 
 rabble demolish images, in the zeal of their hammers 
 oft violating the sepulchres of good men : like Pen- 
 theus in the tragedies, they see that for Thebes which 
 is not, and take that for superstition, as these men in 
 the heat of their annulling perceive not how they abo- 
 lish right, and equal and justice, under the appearance 
 of judicial. And yet are confessing all the while, that 
 these sayings of Christ stand not in contradiction to 
 the law of Moses, but to the false doctrine of the Pha- 
 risees raised from thence ; that the law of God is per- 
 fect, not liable to additions or diminutions : and Paropus 
 accuses the Jesuit Maldonatus of greatest falsity for 
 limiting the perfection of that law only to the rudeness 
 of the Jews. He adds, " That the law promiseth life 
 to the performers thereof, therefore needs not perfecter 
 precepts than such as bring to life ; that if the correc- 
 tions of Christ stand opposite, not to the corruptions of 
 the Pharisees, but to the law itself of God, the heresy 
 of Manes would follow, one God of the Old Testament, 
 and another of the New. That Christ saith not here, 
 Except your righteousness exceed the righteousness of 
 Moses' law, but of the scribes and Pharisees." That 
 all this may be true : whither is common sense flown 
 asquint, if we can maintain that Christ forbid the Mo- 
 saic divorce utterly, and yet abolished not the law that 
 permits it.-* For if the conscience only were checked, 
 and the law not repealed, what means the fanatic bold- 
 ness of this age, that dares tutor Christ to be more 
 strict than he thought fit ? Ye shall have the evasion, 
 it was a judicial law. What could infancy and slum- 
 ber have invented more childish.'* Judicial or not ju- 
 dicial, it was one of those laws expressly which he 
 forewarned us with protestation, that his mind was, 
 not to abrogate : and if we mark the steerage of his 
 words, what course they hold, wc may perceive that 
 what he protested not to dissolve (that he might faith- 
 fully and not deceitfully remove a suspicion from him- 
 self) was principally concerning the judicial law; for 
 of that sort are all these here which he vindicates, ex- 
 cept the last. Of the ceremonial law he told them true, 
 that nothing of it should pass " until all were fulfilled." 
 Of the moral law he knew the Pharisees did not sus- 
 pect he meant to nullify that : for so doing would 
 soon have undone his authority, and advanced theirs. 
 Of the judicial law therefore chiefly this apology was 
 meant: for how is that fulfilled longer than the com- 
 mon equity thereof remains in force? And how is this 
 our Saviour's defence of himself not made fallacious, 
 if the Pharisees' chief fear be lest he should abolish the 
 judicial law, and he, to satisfy them, protests his good 
 intention to the moral law ? It is the general grant of 
 divines, that what in the judicial law is not merely 
 judaical,* but reaches to human equity in common, 
 was never in the thought of being abrogated. If our 
 Saviour took away aught of law, it was the burden- 
 some of it, not the ease of burden ; it was the bondage, 
 not the liberty of any divine law, that he removed ; 
 this he often professed to be the end of his coming. 
 
 be here tlie same,) we have tlierefore inseiied the latter word in the text. 
 
196 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 But what if the law of divorce be a moral law, as most 
 certainly it is fundamentally, and hath been so proved 
 in the reasons thereof? For though the giving of a bill 
 may be judicial, yet the act of divorce is altog-ether 
 conversant in g-ood and evil, and so absolutely moral. 
 So far as it is good, it never can be abolished, being 
 moral ; and so far as it is simply evil, it neVer could 
 be judicial, as hath been shewn at large " in the Doc- 
 trine of Divorce," and will be reassunied anon. Whence 
 one of these two necessities follow, that cither it was 
 never established, or never abolished. Thus much may 
 be enough to have said on this place. The following 
 verse will be better unfolded in the 19th chapter, where 
 it meets us again, after a large debatement on the 
 question between our Saviour and his adversaries. 
 
 Matt. xix. 3, 4, <Scc. 
 
 Ver. 3. " And the Pharisees came unto him, tempting 
 
 him, and saying unto him." 
 
 " Tempting him."] The manner of these men com- 
 ing to our Saviour, not to learn, but to tempt him, may 
 g^ve us to expect, that their answer will be such as is 
 fittest for them ; not so much a teaching, as an entang- 
 ling. No man, though never so willing or so well 
 enabled to instruct, but if he discern his willingness 
 and candour made use of to entrap him, will suddenly 
 draw in himself, and laying aside the facil vein of 
 perspicuity, will know his time to utter clouds and 
 riddles; if he be not less wise than that noted fish, 
 whenas he should be not unwiser than the serpent. 
 Our Saviour at no time expressed any great desire to 
 teach the obstinate and untcachable Pharisees ; but 
 when they came to tempt him, then least of all. As 
 now about the liberty of divorce, so another time about 
 the punishment of adultery, they came to sound him ; 
 and what satisfaction got they from his answer, either 
 to themselves, or to us, that might direct a law under 
 the gospel, new from that of Moses, unless we draw 
 his absolution of adultery into an edict ? So about the 
 tribute, who is there can pick out a full solution, what 
 and when we must give to CeDsar, by the answer which 
 he gave the Pharisees .'' If we must give to Csesar that 
 which is Caesar's, and all be Csesar's which hath his 
 imagt!, we must either new stamp our coin, or we may 
 go new stamp our foreheads with the superscription of 
 slaves instead of freemen. Besides, it is a general 
 precept not only of Christ, but of all other sages, not 
 to instruct the unworthy and the conceited, who love 
 tradition more than truth, but to perplex and stumble 
 them purposely with contrived obscurities. No wonder 
 then if they, who would determine of divorce by this 
 place, have ever found it difficult and unsatisfying 
 through all the ages of the church, as Austin himself 
 and other great writers confess. Lastly, it is manifest 
 to be the principal scope of our Saviour, both here, and 
 in the fifth of Matthew, to convince the Pharisees of 
 what they being evil did licentiously, not to explain 
 what others being good and blameless men might be 
 permitted to do in case of extremity. Neither was it 
 seasonable to talk of honest and conscientious liberty 
 
 among them, who had abused legal and civil liberty to 
 uncivil licence. We do not say to a servant what we 
 say to a son ; nor was it expedient to preach freedom 
 to those who had transgressed in wantonness. When 
 wc rebuke a prodigal, we admonish him of thrift, not 
 of magnificence, or bounty. . And to school a proud 
 man, we labour to make him humble, not magnanimous. 
 So Christ, to retort these arrogant inquisitors their own, 
 took the course to lay their haughtiness under a sever- 
 ity which they deserved ; not to acquaint them, or to 
 make them judges either of the just man's right and 
 privilege, or of the afflicted man's necessity. And if 
 we may have leave to conjecture, there is a likelihood 
 otTered us by TertuUian in his fourth against Marcion, 
 whereby it may seem very probable, that the Pharisees 
 had a private drift of malice against our Saviour's life 
 in proposing this question ; and our Saviour had a 
 peculiar aim in the rigour of his answer, both to let 
 them know the freedom of his spirit, and the sharpness 
 of his discerning. " This I must now shew," saith 
 TertuUian, " whence our Lord deduced this sentence, 
 and which way he directed it, whereby it will more 
 fully appear, that he intended not to dissolve Moses." 
 And thereupon tells us, that the vehemence of this 
 our Saviour's speech was chiefly darted against Herod 
 and Herodias. The story is out of Josephus ; Herod 
 had been a long time married to the daughter of Aretas 
 king of Petra, till happening on his journey towards 
 Rome to be entertained at his brother Philip's house, 
 he cast his eye unlawfully and unguestlike upon Hero- 
 dias there, the wife of Philip, but daughter to Aristo- 
 bulus their common brother, and durst make words of 
 marrying her his niece from his brother's bed. She 
 assented, upon agreement he should expel his former 
 wife. All was accomplished, and by the Baptist re- 
 buked with the loss of his head. Though doubtless 
 that stayed not the vaiious discourses of men upon the 
 fact, which while the Herodian flatterers, and not a few 
 perhaps among the Pharisees, endeavoured to defend 
 by wresting the law, it might be a means to bring the 
 question of divorce into a hot agitation among the 
 people, how far Moses gave allowance. The Pharisees 
 therefore knowing our Saviour to be a friend of John 
 the Baptist, and no doubt but having heard much of 
 his sermon on the mount, wherein he spake rigidly 
 against the licence of divorce, they put him this ques- 
 tion, both in hope to find him a contradictor of Moses, 
 and a condemner of Herod ; so to insnare him within 
 compass of the same accusation which had ended his 
 friend ; and our Saviour so orders bis answer, as that 
 they might perceive Herod and his adulteress, only 
 not named : so lively it concerned them both what he 
 spake. No wonder then if the sentence of our Saviour 
 sounded stricter than his custom was ; which his con- 
 scious attempters doubtless apprehended sooner than 
 his other auditors. Thus much we gain from hence tf> 
 inform us, that what Christ intends to speak here o! 
 divorce, will be rather the forbidding of what we may 
 not do herein passionately and abusively, as Herod aud 
 Herodias did, than the discussing of what herein we 
 ma}' do reasonably and •necessarily. 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 197 
 
 " Is it lawful for a man to put awaj his wife ?"] It 
 might be rendered more exactly from the Greek, " to 
 loosen or to set free;" which thoug^h it seem to have a 
 milder signification than the two Hebrew words com- 
 monly used for divorce, yet interpreters have noted, 
 that the Greek also is read in the Septuag-int for an act 
 which is not without constraint. As when Achish drove 
 from his presence David, counterfeitinfr madness, Psal. 
 xxxiv. the Greek word is the same with this here, to 
 put away. And Erasmus quotes Hilary rendering- it 
 by an expression not so soft. Whence may be doubted, 
 whether the Pharisees did not state this question in the 
 strict right of the man, not tarrying for the wife's con- 
 sent. And if our Saviour answered directly according 
 to what was asked in the term of putting away, it will 
 be questionable, whether the rigour of his sentence did 
 not forbid only such putting away as is without mutual 
 consent, in a violent and harsh manner, or without any 
 reason but will, as the tetrarch did. Which might be 
 the cause that those christian emperors feared not in 
 their constitutions to dissolve marriage by mutual con- 
 sent; in that our Saviour seems here, as the case is 
 most likely, not to condemn all divorce, but all injury 
 and violence in divorce. But no injury can be done to 
 them, who seek it, as the Ethics of .\ristotle sufficiently 
 prove. True it is, that an unjust thing may be done 
 to one thougli willing, and so may justly be forbidden : 
 but divorce being in itself no unjust or evil thing, but 
 only as it is joined with injury or lust; injury it can- 
 not be at law, if consent be, and Aristotle err not. And 
 lust it may as frequently not be, while charity hath the 
 judging of so many private grievances in a misfortunod 
 wedlock, which may pardonably seek a redemption. 
 But whether it be or not, the law cannot discern or 
 examine lust, so long as it walks from one lawful term 
 to another, from divorce to marriage, both in themselves 
 indifferent. For if the law cannot take hold to punish 
 many actions apparently covetous, ambitious, ingiate- 
 fui, proud, how can it forbid and punish that for lust, 
 which is but only surmised so, and can no more be 
 certainly proved in the divorcing now, than before in 
 the marrying? Whence if divorce be no unjust thing, 
 but through lust, a cause not discernible by law, as 
 law is wont to discern in other cases, and can be no 
 injury, where consent is ; there can be nothing in the 
 equity of law, why divorce by consent may not be 
 lawful : leaving secresies to conscience, the thing 
 which our Saviour here aims to rectify, not to revoke 
 the statutes of Moses. In the mean while the word 
 " to put away," being in the Greek to loosen or dissolve, 
 utterly takes away that vain papistical distinction of 
 divorce from bed, and divorce from bond, evincing 
 plainly, that Christ and the Phaj-isees mean here that 
 divorce, which finally dissolves the bond, and frees 
 both parties to a second marriage. 
 
 " For every cause."] This the Pharisees held, that 
 for every cause they might divorce, for every accidental 
 cause, any quarrel or difterence that might happen. 
 So both Josephus and Philo, men who lived in the 
 same age, explain ; and the Syriac translator, whose 
 antiquity is thought parallel to tl)e Evangelists them- 
 
 selves, reads it conformably, " upon any occasion or 
 pretence." Divines also generally agree, that thus the 
 Pharisees meant. Cameron, a late writer, much ap- 
 plauded, commenting this place not undiligently, 
 affirms that the Greek preposition kotcl translated un- 
 usually (for) hath a force in it implying the suddenness 
 of those pharisaic divorces; and that their question 
 was to this eft'ect, " whether for any cause, whatever it 
 chanced to be, straight as it rose, the divorce might be 
 lawful." This he freely gives, whatever moved him, 
 and I as freely take, nor can deny his observation to 
 be acute and learned. If therefore we insist upon the 
 word of " putting away ;" that it imports a constraint 
 without consent, as might be insisted, and may enjoy 
 what Cameron bestows on us, that " for every cause " 
 is to be understood, " according as any cause may 
 happen," with a relation to the speediness of those di- 
 vorces, and that Herodian act especially, as is already 
 brought us ; the sentence of our Saviour will appear 
 nothing so strict a prohibition as hath been long con- 
 ceived, forbidding only to divorce for casual and tem- 
 porary causes, that may be soon ended, or soon re- 
 medied : and likewise forbidding to divorce rashly, 
 and on the sudden heat, except it be for adultery. If 
 these qualifications may be admitted, as partly we offer 
 tliem, partly are offered them by some of their own 
 opinion, and that where nothing is repugnant why 
 .they should not be admitted, nothing can wrest them 
 from us; the severe sentence of our Saviour will straight 
 unbend the seeming frown into that gentleness and com- 
 passion, which was so abundant in all his actions, his 
 office, and his doctrine, from all which otiierwise it 
 stands ofi' at no mean distance. 
 
 Ver. 4. " And he answered and said unto them. Have 
 ye not read, that he which made them at the be- 
 ginning, made them male and female?" 
 
 Ver. 5. "And said. For this cause shall a man leave 
 father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, 
 and they twain shall be one flesh." 
 
 Ver. 6. " Wherefore they are no more twain, but 
 one flesh. What therefore God hath joined toge- 
 ther, let not man put asunder." 
 
 4, and 5. " Made them male and female ; and said. 
 For this cause," &c.] We see it here undeniably, that 
 the law which our Saviour cites to prove tliat divorce 
 was forbidden, is not an absolute and tyrannical com- 
 mand without reason, as now-a-days we make it little 
 better, but is grounded upon some rational cause not 
 difficult to be apprehended, being in a matter which 
 equally concerns the meanest and the plainest sort of 
 persons in a household life. Our next way then will 
 be to inquire if there be not more reasons than one ; 
 and if there be, whetiier this be the best and chiefest. 
 That we shall find by turning to the first institution, 
 to which Christ refers our own reading : he himself, 
 having to deal with treacherous assailants, useth bre- 
 vity, and lighting on the firet place in Genesis that 
 mentions any thing tending to mnrriage in the first 
 chapter, joins it immediately to the twenty-fourth verse 
 of the second chapter, omitting all the prime words 
 
196 
 
 EXPOSITIONS OX THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 But what if the law of divorce be a moral law, as most 
 certainly it is fundamentally, and hath been so proved 
 in the reasons thereof? For though the giving of a bill 
 may be judicial, yet the act of divorce is altogether 
 conversant in good and evil, and so absolutely moral. 
 So far as it is good, it never can be abolished, being 
 moral ; and so far as it is simply evil, it lufVer could 
 be judicial, as hath been shewn at large " in the Doc- 
 trine of Divorce," and will be reassunied anon. Whence 
 one of these two necessities follow, that either it was 
 never established, or never abolished. Thus much may 
 be enough to have said on this place. The following 
 verse will be better unfolded in the 19th chapter, where 
 it meets us again, after a large debatement on the 
 question between our Saviour and his adversaries. 
 
 Matt. xix. 3, 4, <Scc. 
 
 Ver. 3. " And the Pharisees came unto him, tempting 
 
 him, and saying unto him." 
 
 " Tempting him."] The manner of these men com- 
 ing to our Saviour, not to leani, but to tempt him, may 
 give us to expect, that their answer will be such as is 
 fittest for them ; not so much a teaching, as an entang- 
 ling. No man, though never so willing or so well 
 enabled to instruct, but if he discern his willingness 
 and candour made use of to entrap him, will suddenly 
 draw in himself, and laying aside the facil vein of 
 perspicuity, will know his time to utter clouds and 
 riddles ; if he be not less wise than that noted fish, 
 whenas he should be not unwiser than the serpent. 
 Our Saviour at no time expressed any great desire to 
 teach the obstinate and untcachable Pharisees ; but 
 when they came to tempt him, then least of all. As 
 now about the liberty of divorce, so another time about 
 the punishment of adultery, they came to sound him ; 
 and what satisfaction got they from his answer, either 
 to themselves, or to us, that might direct a law under 
 the gospel, new from that of Moses, unless we draw 
 his absolution of adultery into an edict ? So about the 
 tribute, who is there can pick out a full solution, what 
 and when we must give to Caesar, by the answer which 
 he gave the Pharisees.'* If we must give to Csesar that 
 which is Caesar's, and all be Csesar's which hath his 
 image, we must either new stamp our coin, or we may 
 go new stamp our foreheads with the superscription of 
 slaves instead of freemen. Besides, it is a general 
 precept not only of Christ, but of all other sages, not 
 to instruct the unworthy and the conceited, who love 
 tradition more than truth, but to perplex and stumble 
 them purposely with contrived obscurities. No wonder 
 then if they, who would determine of divorce b}' this 
 place, have ever found it difficult and unsatisfying 
 through all the ages of the church, as Austin himself 
 and other great writers confess. Lastly, it is manifest 
 to be the principal scope of our Saviour, both here, and 
 in the fifth of Matthew, to convince the Pharisees of 
 what they being evil did licentiously, not to explain 
 what others being good and blameless men might be 
 permitted to do in case of extremity. Neither was it 
 seasonable to talk of honest and conscientious liberty 
 
 among them, who had abused legal and civil liberty to 
 uncivil licence. We do not say to a servant what we 
 say to a son ; nor was it expedient to preach freedom 
 to those who had transgressed in wantonness. When 
 wc rebuke a prodigal, we admonish him of thrift, not 
 of magnificence, or bounty. . And to school a proud 
 man, we labour to make him humble, not magnanimous. 
 So Christ, to retort these arrogant inquisitors their own, 
 took the course to lay their haughtiness under a sever- 
 ity which they deserved ; not to acquaint them, or to 
 make them judges either of the just man's right and 
 privilege, or of the afflicted man's necessity. And if 
 we may have leave to conjecture, there is a likelihood 
 offered us by Tertulliau in his fourth against Marcion, 
 whereby it may seem very probable, that the Pharisees 
 had a private drift of malice against our Saviour's life 
 in proposing this question ; and our Saviour had a 
 peculiar aim in the rigour of his answer, both to let 
 them know the freedom of his spirit, and the sharpness 
 of his discerning. " This I must now shew," saith 
 Tertullian, " whence our Lord deduced this sentence, 
 and which way he directed it, whereby it will more 
 fully appear, that he intended not to dissolve Moses." 
 And thereupon tells us, that the vehemence of this 
 our Saviour's speech was chiefly darted against Herod 
 and Herodias. The story is out of Josephus ; Herod 
 had been a long time married to the daughter of Aretas 
 king of Petra, till happening on his journey towards 
 Rome to be entertained at his brother Philip's house, 
 he cast his eye unlawfully and unguestlike upon Hero- 
 dias there, the wife of Philip, but daughter to Aristo- 
 bulus their common brother, and durst make words of 
 marrying her his niece from his brother's bed. She 
 assented, upon agreement he should expel his former 
 wife. All was accomplished, and by the Baptist re- 
 buked with the loss of his head. Though doubtless 
 that stayed not the various discourses of men upon the 
 fact, which while the Herodian flatterers, and not a few 
 perhaps among the Pharisees, endeavoured to defend 
 by wresting the law, it might be a means to bring the 
 question of divorce into a hot agitation among the 
 people, how far Moses gave allowance. The Pharisees 
 therefore knowing our Saviour to be a friend of .lohn 
 the Baptist, and no doubt but having heard much of 
 his sermon on the mount, wherein he spake rigidly 
 against the licence of divorce, they put him this ques- 
 tion, both in hope to find him a contradictor of Moses, 
 and a condemner of Herod ; so to insnare him within 
 compass of the same accusation which had ended his 
 friend ; and our Saviour so orders his answer, as that 
 they might perceive Herod and his adulteress, only 
 not named : so lively it concerned them both what he 
 spake. No wonder then if the sentence of our Saviour 
 sounded stricter than his custom was ; which his con- 
 scious attenipters doubtless apprehended sooner than 
 his other auditors. Thus much we gain from hence tf> 
 inform us, that what Christ intends to speak here oi 
 divorce, will be rather the forbidding of what we may 
 not do herein passionately and abusively, as Herod and 
 Herodias did, than the discussing of what herein we 
 may do reasonably and necessarily. 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IX MARRIAGE. 
 
 197 
 
 " Is it lawful for a man to put away his wife ?"] It 
 might be rendered more exactly from the Greek, " to 
 loosen or to set free ;" which thou|^h it seem to have a 
 milder sig-nification than the two Hebrew words com- 
 monly used for divorce, yet interpreters have noted, 
 that the Greek also is read in the Septuag-int for an act 
 which is not without constraint. As when Achish drove 
 from his presence David, counterfeiting madness, Psal. 
 xxxiv. the Greek word is the same with this here, to 
 put away. And Erasmus quotes Hilary rendering' it 
 by an expression not so soft. Whence may be doubted, 
 whether the Pharisees did not state this question in the 
 strict right of the man, not tarrying for the wife's con- 
 sent. And if our Saviour answered directly according' 
 to what was asked in the term of putting away, it will 
 be questionable, whether the rigour of his sentence did 
 not forbid only such putting away as is without mutual 
 consent, in a violent and harsh manner, or without any 
 reason but will, as the tetrarch did. Which might be 
 the cause that those christian emperors feared not in 
 their constitutions to dissolve marriage by mutual con- 
 sent; in that our Saviour seems here, as the case is 
 most likely, not to condemn all divorce, but all injury 
 and violence in divorce. But no injury can be done to 
 them, who seek it, as the Ethics of Aristotle sufficiently 
 prove. True it is, that an unjust thing' may be done 
 to one though willing, and so may justly be forbidden : 
 but divorce being in itself no unjust or evil thing, but 
 only as it is joined with injury or lust; injury it can- 
 not be at law, if consent be, and Aristotle err not. And 
 lust it may as frequently not be, while charity hath the 
 judging of so many private grievances in a niisfortuncd 
 wedlock, which may pardonably seek a redemption. 
 But whether it be or not, the law cannot discern or 
 examine lust, so long' as it walks from one lawful term 
 to another, from divorce to marriage, both in themselves 
 indifferent. For if the law cannot take hold to punish 
 many actions apparently covetous, ambitious, ingi'ate- 
 ful, proud, how can it forbid and punish that for lust, 
 which is but only sunnised so, and can no more be 
 certainly proved in the divorcing now, than before in 
 the marrying? Whence if divorce be no unjust thing, 
 but through lust, a cause not discernible by law, as 
 law is wont to discern in other cases, and can be no 
 injury, where consent is ; there can be nothing in the 
 equity of law, why divorce by consent may not be 
 lawful : Icaving^ secresies to conscience, the thing 
 which our Saviour here aims to rectify, not to revoke 
 the statutes of Moses. In the mean while the word 
 " to put away," being in the Greek to loosen or dissolve, 
 utterly takes away that vain papistical distinction of 
 divorce from bed, and divorce from bond, evincing 
 plainly, that Christ and the Pharisees mean here that 
 divorce, which finally dissolves the bond, and frees 
 both parties to a second marriage. 
 
 " For every cause."] This the Pharisees held, that 
 for every cause they might divorce, for every accidental 
 cause, any quarrel or difference that might happen. 
 So both Josephus and Philo, men who lived in the 
 same age, explain ; and the Syriac translator, whose 
 antiquity is thoug-ht parallel to the Evangelists them- 
 
 selves, reads it conformably, " upon any occasion or 
 pretence." Divines also generally agree, that thus the 
 Pharisees meant. Cameron, a late writer, much ap- 
 plauded, commenting this place not undilig-ently, 
 affirms that the Greek preposition Kara translated un- 
 usually (for) hath a force in it implying the suddenness 
 of those pharisaic divorces; and that their question 
 was to this effect, " whether for any cause, whatever it 
 chanced to be, straight as it rose, the divorce might be 
 lawful." This he freely gives, whatever moved him, 
 and I as freely take, nor can deny his observation to 
 be acute and learned. If therefore we insist upon the 
 word of " putting' away ;" that it imports a constraint 
 without consent, as might be insisted, and may enjoy 
 what Cameron bestows on us, that " for c\ery cause " 
 is to be understood, " according as any cause may 
 happen," with a relation to tlie speed iness of those di- 
 vorces, and that Herodian act especially, as is already 
 brought us ; the sentence of our Saviour will appear 
 nothing so strict a prohibition as hath been long con- 
 ceived, forbidding only to divorce for casual and tem- 
 porary causes, that may be soon ended, or soon re- 
 medied : and likewise forbidding to divorce rashly, 
 and on the sudden heat, except it be for adultery. If 
 these qualifications maybe admitted, as partly we offer 
 tiiem, partly are offered them by some of their own 
 opinion, and that where nothing is repugnant why 
 .tiiey should not be admitted, nothing can wrest them 
 from us; the severe sentence of our Saviour will straig'ht 
 unbend the seeming frown into that gentleness and C(»m- 
 passion, which was so abundant in all his actions, his 
 office, and his doctrine, from all which otherwise it 
 stands off at no mean distance. 
 
 Ver. 4. "And be answered and said unto them. Have 
 ye not read, that he which made them at the be- 
 ginning', made them male and female?" 
 
 Ver. 5. "And said. For this cause shall a nian leave 
 father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, 
 and they twain shall be one flesh." 
 
 Ver. 6. " Wherefore they are no more twain, but 
 one flesh. What therefore God hath joined toge- 
 ther, let not man put asunder." 
 
 4, and 5. " Made them male and female ; and said. 
 For this cause," &c.] We see it here undeniably, that 
 the law which our Saviour cites to prove tliat divorce 
 was forbidden, is not an absolute and tyrannical com- 
 mand without reason, as now-a-days we make it little 
 better, but is grounded upon some rational cause not 
 difficult to be apprehended, being in a matter which 
 equally' concerns the meanest and the plainest sort of 
 persons in a household life. Our next way then will 
 be to inquire if there be not more reasons than one ; 
 and if there be, whether this be the best and chiefest. 
 That we shall find by turning to the first institution, 
 to which Christ refers our own reading : he himself, 
 having to deal with treacherous assailants, useth bre- 
 vity, and lighting on the firet place in Genesis that 
 mentions any thing tending to marriage in the first 
 chapter, joins it immediately to the twenty-fourth verse 
 of tlie second chapter, omitting all the prime words 
 
198 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 between which create the institution, and contain the 
 noblest and purest ends of matriniony ; witiiout which 
 attained, that conjunction hath nothing' in it above 
 what is common to us with beasts. So likewise beneath 
 in this very chapter, to the younjj man, who came not 
 tempting him, but to learn of him, asking' him which 
 commandments he should keep ; he neither repeats the 
 first table, nor all the second, nor that in order which 
 he repeats. If here then bein^ tempted, he desire to 
 be the shorter, and the darker in his conference, and 
 omit to cite that from the second of Genesis, which all 
 divines confess is a commentary to what he cites out of 
 the first, the " making; them male and female ;" what 
 are we to do, but to search the institution ourselves ? 
 And wc shall find there his own authority, giving 
 other manner of reasons why such firm union is to be 
 in matrimony ; without which reasons, their being 
 male and female can be no cause of joining them un- 
 separably : for if it be, then no adultery can sever. 
 Therefore the prohibition of divorce depends not upon 
 this reason here expressed to the Pharisees, but upon 
 the plainer and more eminent causes omitted here, and 
 referred to the institution ; which causes not being 
 found in a particular and casual matrimony, this sen- 
 sitive and matcrious cause alone can no more hinder a 
 divorce against those higher and more human reasons 
 urgfing it, than it can alone without them to warrant a 
 copulation, but leaves it arbitrary to those who in their, 
 chance of marriage find not why divorce is forbid them, 
 but why it is permitted them; and find both here and 
 in Genesis, that the forbidding is not absolute, but ac- 
 cording to the reasons there taught us, not here. And 
 that our Saviour taught them no better, but uses the 
 most vulgar, most animal and corporal argument to 
 convince them, is first to shew us, that as through their 
 licentious divorces they made no more of marriage, 
 tlian as if to marry were no more than to be male and 
 female, so he goes no higher in his confutation ; deem- 
 ing them unworthy to be talked with in a higher strain, 
 but to be tied in marriage by the mere material cause 
 thereof, since their own licence testified that nothing 
 matrimonial was in their thought, but to be male and 
 female. Next, it might be done to discover the brute 
 ignorance of these carnal doctors, who taking on them 
 to dispute of marriage and divorce, were put to silence 
 with such a slender opposition as this, and outed from 
 their hold with scarce one quarter of an argument. 
 That we may believe this, his entertainment of the 
 young man soon after may persuade us. Whom, though 
 he came to preach eternal life by faith only, he dis- 
 misses with a salvation taught him by works only. 
 On which place Parous notes, " That this man was 
 to be convinced by a false persuasion ; and that Christ 
 is wont otherwise to answer hypocrites, otherwise those 
 that are dociblc." Much rather then may we think, 
 that, in handling these tempters, he forgot not so to 
 frame his prudent ambiguities and concealments, as 
 was to the troubling of those peremptory disputants 
 most wholesome. When therefore we would know 
 what right there may be, in all accidents, to divorce, 
 «ve must repair thither where God professes to teach his 
 
 servants by tlie ]>rime institution, and not where we 
 see him intending to da/.zle sophisters : we must not 
 read, " he made them male and female," and not un- 
 derstand he made them more intendedly " a meet help " 
 to remove the evil of being " alone." VV'e must take 
 both these together, and then we may infer completely, 
 as from the whole cause, why a man shall cleave to bis 
 wife, and they twain shall be one flesh : but if the full 
 and chief cause why we may not divorce be wanting 
 here, this place may skirmish with the rabbies w bile it 
 will, but to the true Christian it prohibits nothing be- 
 yond the full reason of its own prohibiting, wliich is 
 best known by the institution. 
 
 Ver. 6. " Wherefore they are no more twain, but 
 one flesh."] This is true in the general right of mar- 
 riage, but not in the chance-medley of every particular 
 match. For if they who were once undoubtedly one 
 flesh, yet become twain by adultery, tlien sure they 
 who were never .one flesh rightly, never helps meet 
 for each other according to the plain prescript of God, 
 may witli less ado than a volume be concluded still 
 twain. And so long as we account a magistrate no 
 magistrate, if there be but a flaw in his election, why 
 should we not much rather count a matrimony no ma- 
 trimony, if it cannot be in any reasonable manner 
 according to the words of God's institution. 
 
 " What therefore God hath joined, let not man put 
 asunder."] But here the christian prudence lies to con- 
 sider what God hath joined ; shall we say that God 
 hath joined errour, fraud, unfitness, wrath, contention, 
 perpetual loneliness, perpetual discord ; whatever lust, 
 or wine, or witchery, threat or inticement, avarice or 
 ambition hath joined together, faithful and unfaithful. 
 Christian with antichristian, hate with hate, or hate 
 with love ; shall we say this is God's joining ? 
 
 " Let not man put asunder."] That is to say, what 
 God hath joined ; for if it be, as how oft we see it may 
 be, not of God's joining, and his law tells us he joins 
 not unmatchable things, but hates to join them, as an 
 abominable confusion, then the divine law of Moses 
 puts them asunder, his own divine will in the institu- 
 tion puts them asunder, as oft as the reasons be not ex- 
 tant, for which only God ordained their joining. Man 
 only puts asunder when his inordinate desires, iiis pas- 
 sion, his violence, his injury makes the breach: not 
 when the utter want of that which lawfully was the 
 end of bis joining, when wrongs and extremities and 
 unsupportable grievances compel him to disjoin : when 
 such as Herod and the Pharisees divorce beside law, 
 or against law, then only man separates, and to such 
 only this prohibition belongs. In a word, if it be un- 
 lawful for man to put asunder that which God hath 
 joined, let man take heed it be not detestable to join 
 that by compulsion which God hath put asunder. 
 
 Ver. 7. " They say unto him, Why did Moses then 
 command to give a writing of divorcement, and 
 to put her away ?" 
 
 Ver. 8. " He sailii unto them, Moses because of tlu- 
 hardness of your hearts suffered yo\i to put aw.iy 
 your wives ; but from the beginning it was not so." i 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 199 
 
 " Moses because of the liardness of your hearts suf- 
 fered you."] Hence the divinity novr current argues, 
 that this judicial law of Moses is abolished. But sup- 
 pose it were so, though it hath been proved otherwise, 
 the firmness of such right to divorce, as here pleads is 
 fetched from the prime institution, does not stand or 
 fall with the judicial Jew, but is as moral as what is 
 inoralest. Yet as I have shewn positively, that this 
 law cannot be abrogated, both by the words of our Sa- 
 viour pronouncing the contrary, and by that unabol- 
 ishable equity which it conveys to us; so I shall now 
 bring to view those appearances of strengtli, which 
 are levied from this text to maintain tiie most gross 
 and massy paradox that ever did violence to reason 
 and religion, bred only under the shadow of these 
 words, to all other piety or philosophy strange and in- 
 solent, that God by act of law drew out a line of adul- 
 tery almost tw o thousand years long : although to de- 
 tect the prodigy of this surmise, the former book set 
 forth on tliis argument hatii already been copious. I 
 shall not repeat much, though I might borrow of mine 
 own ; but shall endeavour to add something either yet 
 untouched, or not largely enough explained. First, it 
 shall be manifest, that the common exposition cannot 
 possibly consist with christian doctrine : next, a truer 
 meaning of this our Saviour's reply shall be left in the 
 room. The received exposition is, that God, though 
 not approving, did enact a law to permit adultery by 
 divorcement simply unlawful. And this conceit they 
 feed with fond supposals, that have not the least foot- 
 ing in Scripture : as tliat the Jews learned this custom 
 of divorce in Egypt, and therefore God would not un- 
 teach it them till Christ came, but let it stick as a no- 
 torious botch of deformity in the midst of iiis most per- 
 fect and severe law. And yet he saith. Lev. xviii. 
 " After the doings of Egyi)t ye shall not do." Another 
 while they invent a slander, (as what thing more bold 
 than teaching ignorance when he shifts to hide his na- 
 kedness ?) that the Jews were naturally to their wives 
 the cruellest men in the world ; would poison, brain, 
 and do I know not what, if they might not divorce. 
 Certain, if it were a fault lieavily punished, to bring 
 an evil report upon the land which God gave, what is 
 it to raise a groundless calumny against the people 
 which God made choice of? But that this bold inter- 
 pretament, how commonly soever sided with, cannot 
 stand a minute with any competent reverence to God, 
 or his law, or his people, nor vvith any other maxim of 
 religion, or good manners, might be proved through all 
 the heads and topics of argumentation ; but I shall 
 willingly be as concise as possible. First the law, 
 not only the moral, but the judicial, given by Moses, is 
 just and pure; for such is God who gave it. "Hearken, 
 
 Israel," saith Moses, Deut. iv. " unto the statutes 
 and the judgments wliich I teach you, to do them, that 
 ye may live, &c. Ye shall not add unto the word which 
 
 1 command you, neither shall ye diminish aught from 
 it, that ye may keep the commandments of the Lord 
 your God, which I command you." And onward in 
 the chapter, " Behold, I have taught you statutes 
 and judgments, even as the Lord my God commanded 
 
 me. Keep therefore and do them, for this is your wis- 
 dom and your understanding. For what nation hath 
 God so nigh unto them, and what nation hath statutes 
 and judgments so righteous as all this law, whicli I set 
 before ye this day ?" Is it imaginable there should be 
 among these a law which God allowed not, a law giv- 
 ing permissions laxative to unmarry a wife, and marry 
 a lust, a law to suffer a kind of tribunal adultery.? 
 Many other scriptures might be brought to assert the 
 purity of this judicial law, and many I have alleged 
 before; this law therefore is pure and just. But if it 
 permit, if it teach, if it defend that which is both unjust 
 and impure, as by the common doctrine it doth, what 
 think we? The three general doctrines of Justinian's 
 law are, " To live in honesty. To hurt no man. To give 
 every one his due." Shall the Roman civil law observe 
 these three things, as the only end of law, and shall a 
 statute be found in the civil law of God, enacted sim- 
 ply and totally against all these three precepts of na- 
 ture and morality ? 
 
 Secondly, The gifts of God are all perfect, and cer- 
 tainly the law is of all his other gifts one of the per- 
 fectest. But if it give that outwardly which it takes 
 away really, and give that seemingly, which, if a man 
 take it, wraps him into sin and damns him ; what gift 
 of an enemy can be more dangerous and destroying 
 than tliis? 
 
 Thirdly, Moses every where commends his laws, 
 prefers them before all of other nations, and warrants 
 them to be the way of life and safety to all that walk 
 therein. Lev. xviii. But if they contain statutes which 
 God approves not, and train men unweeting to commit 
 injustice and adultery under the shelter of law ; if 
 those things be sin, and death sin's wages, what is this 
 law but the snare of death ? 
 
 Fourthly, The statutes and judgments of the Lord^ 
 which, without exception, are often told us to be such, 
 as doing we may live by them, are doubtless to be 
 counted the rule of knowledge and of conscience. 
 " For I had not known lust," saith the apostle, " but 
 by the law." But if the law come down from the state 
 of her incorruptible majesty to grant lust his boon, 
 palpably it darkens and confounds both knowledge and 
 conscience ; it goes against the common office of all 
 goodness and Irieudliness, which is at least to counsel 
 and admonish ; it subverts the rules of all sober edu- 
 cation, and is itself a most negligent and debauching 
 tutor. 
 
 Fifthly, If the law permits a thing unlawful, it per- 
 mits that which elsewhere it hath forbid ; so that here- 
 by it contradicts itself, and transgresses itself But if 
 the law become a transgressor, it stands guilty to it- 
 self, and how then shall it save another? It makes a 
 confederacy with sin, how then can it justly condemn 
 a sinner? And thus reducing itself to the state of nei- 
 ther saving nor condemning, it will not fail to expire 
 solemnly ridiculous. 
 
 Sixthly, The prophets in Scripture declare severely 
 against the decreeing of that which is unjust, Psal. 
 xciv. 20 ; Isaiah x. But it was done, they say, for 
 hardness of heart: to which objection the apostle's 
 
200 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIFfURE, 
 
 rule, " not to do evil that good may come thereby," 
 gives an invincible repulse ; and here especially, where 
 it cannot be shown how any good came by doing this 
 evil, how rather more evil did not hereon abound ; for 
 the giving way to hardness of heart hardens the more, 
 and adds more to the number. God to an evil and adul- 
 terous generation would not " grant a sign ;" much 
 less would he for their hardness of heart pollute his 
 law with adulterous permission. Yea, but to permit 
 evil, is not to do evil. Yes, it is in a most eminent 
 manner to do evil : where else are all our grave and 
 faithful sayings, that he whose office is to forbid and 
 forbids not, bids, exhorts, encourages .'' Why hath God 
 denounced his anger against parents, masters, friends, 
 magistrates, neglectful of forbidding what they ought, 
 if law, the common father, master, friend, and perpe- 
 tual magistrate, shall not only not forbid, but enact, 
 e.\hibit, and uphold with countenance and protection, 
 a deed every way dishonest, whatever the pretence be? 
 If it were of those inward vices, which the law cannot 
 by outward constraint remedy, but leaves to conscience 
 and persuasion, it bad been guiltless in being silent : 
 but to write a decree of that which can be no way law- 
 ful, and might with ease be hindered, makes law by 
 the doom of law itself accessory in the highest degree. 
 
 Seventhly, It makes God the direct author of sin : 
 for although he be not made the author of what he 
 silently permits in his providence, yet in his law, the 
 image of his will, when in plain expression he consti- 
 tutes and ordains a fact utterly unlawful ; what wants 
 be to authorize it, and what wants that to be the 
 author? 
 
 Eighthly, To establish by law a thing wholly unlaw- 
 ful and dishonest, is an affirmation was never heard of 
 before in any law, reason, philosophy, or religion, till 
 it was raised by inconsiderate glossists from the mis- 
 take of this text. And though the civilians have been 
 contented to chew this opinion, after the canon had 
 subdued them, yet they never could bring example or 
 authority, either from divine writ, or human learning, 
 or human practice in any nation, or well-formed re- 
 public, but only from the customary abuse of this text. 
 Usually they allege the epistle of Cicero to Atticus ; 
 wherein Cato is blamed for giving sentence to the scum 
 of Romulus, as if he were in Plato's commonwealth. 
 Cato would have called some great one into judgment 
 for bribery; Cicero, as the time stood, advised against 
 it. Cato, not to endamage the public treasury, would 
 not grant to the Roman knights, that the Asian taxes 
 might be farmed them at a less rate. Cicero wished 
 it granted. Nothing in all this will be like the estab- 
 lishing of a law to sin : here are no laws made, here 
 only the execution of law is craved might be suspend- 
 ed : between which and our question is a broad differ- 
 ence. And what if human lawgivers have confessed 
 they could not frame their laws to that perfection which 
 they desired ? We hear of no such confession from 
 Moses concerning the laws of God, but rather all praise 
 and high testimony of perfection given them. And 
 although man's nature cannot bear exactest laws, yet 
 still within the confines of good it may and must, so 
 
 long as less good is far enough fn)ni altogether evil. 
 As for what they instance of usury, let them first prove 
 usury to be wholly unlawful, as the laws allow it; 
 which learned men as numerous on the other side will 
 deny them. Or if it be altogether unlawful, why is it 
 tolerated more than divorce? He who said divorce not, 
 said also, " Lend, hoping for nothing again," Luke vi. 
 36. But then they put in, that trade could not stand; 
 and so to serve the commodity of insatiable trading, 
 usury shall be permitted : but divorce, the only means 
 ofttimes to right the innocent and outrageously wrong- 
 ed, shall be utterly forbid. This is egregious doctrine, 
 and for which one day charity will much thank them. 
 Bcza not finding how to solve this perplexity, and 
 Cameron since him, would secure us ; although the 
 latter confesses, that to " permit a wicked thing by 
 law, is a wickedness which God abhors; yet to limit 
 sin, and prescribe it a certain measure, is good." First, 
 this evasion will not help here ; for this law bounded 
 no man : he might put away whatever found not 
 favour in his eyes. And how could it forbid to di- 
 vorce, whom it could not forbid to dislike, or command 
 to love ? If these be the limits of law to restrain sin, 
 who so lame a sinner, but may bop over them more 
 easily than over those Romulean circumscriptions, not 
 as Remus did with hard success, but with all indemnity ? 
 Such a limiting as this were not worth the mischief 
 that accompanies it. This law therefore, not bounding 
 the supposed sin, by permitting enlarges it, gives it 
 enfranchisement. And never greater confusion, than 
 when law and sin move their landmarks, mix their 
 territories, and correspond, have intercourse, and traffic 
 together. When law contracts a kindred and hospital- 
 ity with transgression, becomes the godfather of sin, 
 and names it lawful ; when sin revels and gossips 
 within the arsenal of law, plays and dandles the artil- 
 lery of justice that should be bent against her, this is a 
 fair limitation indeed. Besides, it is an absurdity to 
 say that law can measure sin, or moderate sin ; sin is 
 not in a predicament to be measured and modified, but 
 is always an excess. The least sin that is exceeds the 
 measure of the largest law that can be good ; and is as 
 boundless as that vacuity beyond the world. If once 
 it square to the measure of law, it ceases to be an ex- 
 cess, and consequently ceases to be a sin ; or else law 
 conforming itself to the obliquity of sin, betrays itself 
 to be not straight, but crooked, and so immediately no 
 law. And the improper conceit of moderating sin by 
 law will appear, if we can imagine any lawjriver so 
 senseless as to decree, that so far a man may steal, and 
 thus far be drunk, that moderately he may couzen, and 
 moderately commit adultery. To the same extent it 
 would be as pithily absurd to publish, that a man may 
 moderately divorce, if to do that be entirely naught. 
 But to end this moot ; the law of Moses is manifest to 
 fix no limit therein at all, or such at least as impeaches 
 the fraudulent abuser no more than if it were not set; 
 only requires the dismissive writing without other cap- 
 tion, leaves that to the inner man, and the bar of con- 
 science. But it stopped other sins. This is as vain 
 as the rest, and dangerously uncertain : the contrary 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 201 
 
 to be feared rather, that one sin, admitted courteously 
 by law, opened the g-ate to another. However, evil 
 must not be done for good. And it were a fall to be 
 lamented, and indignity unspeakable, if law should 
 become tributary to sin her slave, and forced to yield 
 up into his hands her awful minister, punishment ; 
 should buy out our peace with sin for sin, paying- as it 
 were her so many Philistian foreskins to the proud de- 
 mand of transg-ression. But suppose it any way pos- 
 sible to limit sin, to put a g'irdle about that Chaos, sup- 
 pose it also g'ood ; yet if to permit sin by law be an 
 abomination in the eyes of God, as Cameron acknow- 
 ledges, the evil of permitting will eat out the good of 
 limiting. For though sin be not limited, there can but 
 evil come out of evil ; but if it be permitted and de- 
 creed lawful by divine law, of force then sin must pro- 
 ceed from the infinite good, which is a dreadful thought. 
 But if the restraining of sin by this permission being 
 good, as this author testifies, be more good than the 
 permission of more sin by the restraint of divorce, and 
 that God weighing both these like two ingots, in the 
 perfect scales of his justice and providence, found them 
 so, and others, coming without authority from God, 
 shall change this counterpoise, and judge it better to 
 let sin multiply by setting a judicial restraint upon di- 
 vorce which Christ never set; then to limit sin by this 
 permission, as God himself thought best to permit it, it 
 will behove them to consult betimes whether these their 
 balances be not false and abominable ; and this their 
 limiting that which God loosened, and their loosening 
 the sins that he limited, which they confess was good 
 to do : and were it possible to do by law, doubtless it 
 would be most morally good ; and they so believing, 
 as we hear they do, and yet abolishing a law so good 
 and moral, the limiter of sin, what are they else but 
 contrary to themselves ? For they can never bring us 
 to that time wherein it will not be good to limit sin, 
 and they can never limit it better than so as God pre- 
 scribed in his law. 
 
 Others conceive it a more defensible retirement to 
 say, this permission to divorce sinfully for hardness of 
 heart was a dispensation. But surely they either know 
 not, or attended not to what a dispensation means. A 
 dispensation is for no long time, is particular to some 
 persons, rather than general to a whole people; always 
 hath charity the end, is granted to necessities and in- 
 firmities, not to obstinate lust. This permission is 
 another creature, hath all those evils and absurdities 
 following the name of a dispensation, as when it was 
 named a law ; and is the very antarctic pole against 
 charity, nothing more adverse, ensnaring and ruining 
 those that trust in it, or use it ; so lewd and criminous 
 as never durst enter into the head of any politician, 
 Jew, or proselyte, till they became the apt scholars of 
 this canonistic exposition. Aught in it, that can allude 
 in the least manner to charity, or goodness, belongs 
 with more full right to the Christian under grace and 
 liberty, than to the Jew under law and bondage. To 
 Jewish ignorance it could not be dispensed, without a 
 horrid imputation laid upon the law, to dispense foully, 
 instead of teaching fairly ; like that dispensation that 
 
 first polluted Christendom with idolatry, permitting to 
 laymen images instead of books and preaching. Sloth 
 or malice in the law would they have this called ? But 
 what ignorance can be pretended for the Jews, who had 
 all the same precepts about marriage, that we know ? 
 for Christ refers all to the institution. It was as rea- 
 sonable for them to know then as for us now, and con- 
 cerned them alike : for wherein hath the gospel altered 
 the nature of matrimony ? All these considerations, or 
 many of them, have been further amplified in " the 
 Doctrine of Divorce." And what Rivetus and Parseus 
 have objected, or given over as past cure, hath been 
 there discussed. Whereby it may be plain enough to 
 men of eyes, that the vulgar exposition of a permit- 
 tance by law to an intire sin, whatever the colour may 
 be, is an opinion both ungodly, unpolitic, unvirtuous, 
 and void of all honesty and civil sense. It appertains 
 therefore to every zealous Christian, both for the honour 
 of God's law, and the vindication of our Saviour's 
 words, that such an irreligious depravement no longer 
 may be soothed and flattered through custom, but with 
 all diligence and speed solidly refuted, and in the room 
 a better explanation given ; which is now our next 
 endeavour. 
 
 " Moses suflTered you to put away," &c.] Not com- 
 manded you, says the common observer, and therefore 
 cared not how soon it were abolished, being but suffer- 
 ed ; herein declaring his annotation to be slight, and 
 nothing law-prudent. For in this place " commanded " 
 and " suffered " are interchangeably used in the same 
 sense both by our Saviour and the Pharisees. Our Sa- 
 viour, who here saith, " Moses suffered you," in the 
 10th of Mark saith, " Moses wrote you this command." 
 And the Pharisees, who here say, " Moses commanded," 
 and would mainly have it a command, in that place of 
 Mark say, " Moses suffered," which had made against 
 them in their own mouths, if the word of " suffering " 
 had weakened the command. So that suflTered and 
 commanded is here taken for the same thing on both 
 sides of the controversy : as Cameron also and others 
 on this place acknowledge. And lawyers know that 
 all the precepts of law are divided into obligatory and 
 permissive, containing either what we must do, or what 
 we may do ; and of this latter sort are as many pre- 
 cepts as of the former, and all as lawful. Tutelage, an 
 ordainment than which nothing more just, being for 
 the defence of orphans, the Institutes of Justinian say 
 " is given and permitted by the civil law :" and " to 
 parents it is permitted to choose and appoint by will 
 the guardians of their children." What more equal, 
 and yet the civil law calls this " permission." So like- 
 wise to " manumise," to adopt, to make a will, and to 
 be made an heir, is called " permission " by law. Mar- 
 riage itself, and this which is already granted, to divorce 
 for adultery, obliges no man, is but a permission by 
 law, is but suffered. By this we may see how weakly 
 it hath been thought, that all divorce is utterly unlaw- 
 ful, because the law is said to suflTer it: whenas to 
 " suffer" is but the legal phrase denoting what by law 
 a man may do or not do. 
 
 " Because of the hardness of your hearts."] Hence 
 
904 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 mand, which is now most perfection, to ease an extre- 
 mity by divorce, or to enrage and fester it by the griev- 
 ous observance of a miserable wedlock, I am not desti- 
 tute to say, which is most perfection (although some, 
 who believe they think favourably of divorce, esteem it 
 only venial to infirmity). Him I hold more in the 
 way to perfection, who foregoes an unfit, ungodly, and 
 discordant wedlock, to live according to peace and 
 love, and God's institution in a fitter choice, than he 
 who debars himself the happy experience of all godly, 
 which is peaceful, conversation in his family, to live a 
 contentious and unchristian life not to be avoided, in 
 temptations not to be lived in, only for the false keep- 
 ing of a most unreal nullity, a marriage that hath no 
 affinity with God's intention, a daring phantasm, a 
 mere toy of terrour awing weak senses, to the lament- 
 able superstition of ruining themselves ; the remedy 
 whereof God in his law vouchsafes us. Which not to 
 dare use, he warranting, is not our perfection, is our in- 
 firmity, our little faith, our timorous and low conceit of 
 charity : and in them who force us, it is their masking 
 pride and vanity, to seem holier and more circumspect 
 than God. So far is it that we need impute to him in- 
 firmity, who thus divorces : since the rule of perfection 
 is not so much that which was done in the beginning, 
 as that which is now nearest to the rule of charity. This 
 is the greatest,the perfectest,the highest commandment. 
 
 Ver. 9. " And I say unto you, whoso shall put atvay 
 his wife, except it be for fornication, and shall 
 marry another, committeth adultery : and whoso 
 marrieth her which is put away, doth commit adul- 
 tery." 
 
 "And I say unto you."] That this restrictive de- 
 nouncement of Christ contradicts and refutes that per- 
 missive precept of Moses common expositors them- 
 selves disclaim : and that it does not traverse from the 
 closet of conscience to the courts of civil or canon law, 
 with any Christian rightly commenced, requires not 
 long evincing. If Christ then did not here check per- 
 missive Moses, nor did reduce matrimony to the begin- 
 ning more than all other things, as the reason of man's 
 condition could bear ; we would know precisely what 
 it was which he did, and what the end was of his de- 
 claring thus austerely against divorce. For this is a 
 confessed oracle in law, that he who looks not at the 
 intention of a precept, the more superstitious he is of 
 the letter, the more he misinterprets. Was it to 
 shame Moses i* that had been monstrous : or all those 
 purest ages of Israel, to whom the permission was 
 granted? that were as incredible. Or was it that he 
 who came to abrogate the burden of law, not the equi- 
 ty, should put this yoke upon a blameless person, to 
 league himself in chains with a begirting mischief, not 
 to separate till death ? He who taught us, that no man 
 puts a piece of new cloth upon an old garment, or new 
 wine into old bottl^ that he should sew this patch of 
 strictness upon the old apparel of our frailty, to make 
 a rent more incurable, whenas in all other amendments 
 his doctrine still charges, that regard be had to the 
 garment, and to the vessel, what it can endure ; this 
 
 were an irregular and single piece of rigour, not only 
 sounding disproportion to tlie whole gospel, but out- 
 stretching the most rigorous nerves of law and rigour 
 itself. No other end therefore can be left imaginable of 
 this excessive restraint, but to bridle those erroneous and 
 licentious postillers the Pharisees ; not by telling them 
 what may be done in necessity, but what censure they 
 deserve who divorce abusively, which their tetrarch 
 had done. And as the offence was in one extreme, so 
 the rebuke, to bring more efficaciously to a rectitude 
 and mediocrity, stands not in the middle way of duty, j 
 but in the other extreme. Which art of powerful re- j 
 claiming, wisest men have also taught in their ethical 
 precepts and Gnomologies, resembling it, as when we 
 bend a crooked wand the contrary way; not that it 
 should stand so bent, but that the overbending might 
 reduce it to a straightness by its own reluctance. And 
 as the physician cures him who hath taken down poison, 
 not by the middling temper of nourishment, but by the 
 other extreme of antidote ; so Christ adnviuisters here a 
 sharp and corrosive sentence against a foul and putrid 
 licence ; not to eat into the flesh, but into the sore. 
 And knowing that our divines through all their com- 
 ments make no scruple, where they please, to soften 
 the high and vehement speeches of our Saviour, which 
 they call hyperboles : why in this one text should they 
 be such crabbed Masorites of the letter, as not to mol- 
 lify a transcendence of literal rigidity, which they con- 
 fess to find often elsewhere in his manner of delivery, 
 but must make their exposition here such an obdurate 
 Cyclops, to have but one eye for this text, and that only 
 open to cruelty and enthralment, such as no divine or 
 human law before ever heard of? No, let the foppish 
 canonist, with his fardel of matrimonial cases, go and 
 be vendible where men be so unhappy as to cheapen 
 him : the words of Christ shall be asserted from such 
 elemental notaries, and resolved by the now only law- 
 giving mouth of charity ; which may be done un- 
 doubtedly by understanding them as follows. 
 
 " Whosoever shall put away his wife."] That is to 
 say, shall so put away as the propounders of this ques- 
 tion, the Pharisees, were wont to do, and covertly de- 
 fended Herod for so doing ; whom to rebuke, our 
 Saviour here mainly intends, and not to determine all 
 the cases of divorce, as appears by St. Paul. Whoso- 
 ever shall put away, either violently without mutual 
 consent for urgent reasons, or conspiringly by plot of 
 lust, or cunning malice, shall put away for any sud- 
 den mood, or contingency of disagreement, which is 
 not daily practice, but may blow soon over, and be re- 
 conciled, except it be fornication ; whosoever shall put 
 away rashly, as his choler prompts him, without due 
 time of deliberating, and think his conscience discharg- 
 ed only by the bill of divorce given, and the outward 
 law satisfied ; whosoever, lastly, shall put away his 
 wife, that is a wife indeed, and not in name only, such 
 a one who both can and is willing to be a meet help 
 toward the chief ends of marriage both civil and sanc- 
 tified, except fornication be the cause, that man, or that 
 pair, commit adultery. Not he who puts away by mu- 
 tual consen^, with all the considerations and respects 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 205 
 
 of humanity and gentleness, without malicious or lust- 
 ful drift. Not he who after sober and cool experience, 
 and long' debate within himself, puts away, whom 
 though he cannot love or suffer as a wife with that sin- 
 cere affection that marriage requires, yet loves at least 
 with that civility and goodness, as not to keep her 
 under a neglected and unwelcome residence, where 
 nothing can be hearty, and not being, it must needs be 
 both unjoyous, and injurious to any perceiving person 
 so detained, and more injurious than to be freely and 
 upon good terms dismissed. Nor doth he put away 
 adulterously who complains of causes rooted in immu- 
 table nature, utter unfitness, utter disconformity, not 
 conciliable, because not to be amended without a mira- 
 cle. Nor he who puts away an unquenchable vexation 
 from his bosom, and flies an evil, than which a greater 
 cannot befall human society. Nor he who puts away 
 with the full suffrage and applause of his conscience, 
 not relying on the written bill of law, but claiming by 
 faith and fulness of persuasion the rights and promises 
 of God's institution, of which he finds himself in a mis- 
 taken wedlock defrauded. Doubtless this man hath 
 bail enough to be no adulterer, giving divorce for these 
 causes. 
 
 " His wife."] This word is not to be idle here, a 
 mere word without sense, much less a fallacious word 
 signifying contrary to what it pretends; but faithfully 
 signifies a wife, that is, a comfortable help and society, 
 as God instituted ; does not signify deceitfully under 
 this name an intolerable adversary, not a helpless, un- 
 affectionate, and sullen mass, whose very company re- 
 presents the visible and exactcst figure of loneliness it- 
 self. Such an associate he who puts away, divorces not 
 a wife, but disjoins a nullity which God never joined, 
 if she be neither willing, nor to her proper and requisite 
 duties sufficient, as the words of God institute her. And 
 this also is Bucer's explication of this place. 
 
 " Except it be for fornication," or " saving for the 
 cause of fornication," as Matt, v.] This declares what 
 kind of causes our Saviour meant ; fornication being 
 no natural and perpetual cause, but only accidental 
 and temporary ; therefore shews that head of causes 
 from whence it is excepted, to be meant of the same 
 sort. For exceptions are not logically deduced from a 
 diverse kind, as to s.iy whoso puts away for any na- 
 tural cause except fornication, the exception would 
 want salt. And if they understand it, whoso for any 
 cause whatever, they cast themselves; granting di- 
 vorce for frigidity a natural cause of their own allow- 
 ing, though not here expressed, and for desertion with- 
 out infidelity, whenas he who marries, as they allow 
 him for desertion, deserts as well as is deserted, and 
 finally puts away for another cause besides adultery. 
 It will with all due reason therefore be thus better un- 
 derstood, whoso puts away for any accidental and tem- 
 porary causes, except one of them, which is fornication. 
 Thus this exception finds out the causes from whence 
 it is excepted, to be of the same kind, that is, casual, 
 not continual. 
 
 " Saving for the cause of fornication."] The New 
 Testament, though it be said originally writ in Greek, 
 
 yet hath nothing near so many Atticisms as Hebraisms, 
 and Syriacisms, which was the majesty of God, not 
 filing the tongue of Scripture to a Gentilish idiom, but 
 in a princely manner offering to them as to Gentiles 
 and foreig^iers grace and mercy, though not in foreign 
 words, yet in a foreign style that might induce them 
 to the fountains ; and though their calling were high 
 and happy, yet still to acknowledge God's ancient 
 people their betters, and that language the metropoli- 
 tan language. He therefore who thinks to scholiaze 
 upon the gospel, though Greek, according to his Greek 
 analogies, and hath not been auditor to the oriental 
 dialects, shall want in the heat of his analysis no ac- 
 commodation to stumble. In this place, as the 5th of 
 Matth. reads it, " Saving for the cause of fornication," 
 the Greek, such as it is, sounds it, except lor the " word, 
 report, speech, or proportion" of fornication. In which 
 regard, with other inducements, many ancient and 
 learned writers have understood this exception, as com- 
 prehending any fault equivalent and proportional to 
 fornication. But truth is, the evangelist here He- 
 braizes, taking " word or speech for cause or matter" 
 in the common Eastern phrase, meaning perhaps no 
 more than if he had said for fornication, as in this 19th 
 chapter. And yet the word is found in the 5th of Ex- 
 odus also signifying proportion ; where the Israelites 
 arc commanded to do their tasks, " the matter of each 
 day in his day." A task we know is a proportion of work, 
 not doing the same thing absolutely every day, but so 
 much. Whereby it may be doubtful yet, whether here 
 be not excepted not only fornication itself, but other 
 causes equipollent, and proportional to fornication. 
 Which very word also to understand rightly, we must 
 of necessity have recourse again to the Hebrew. For 
 in the Greek and I<atin sense by fornication is meant 
 the common prostitution of body for sale. So that they 
 who are so exact for the letter shall be dealt with by 
 the l/cxicon, and the PUyniologicon too if they please, 
 and must be bound to forbid divorce for adultery also, 
 until it come to open whoredom and trade, like that for 
 which Claudius divorced Messalina. Since therefore 
 they take not here tlie word fornication in the common 
 significance, for an open exercise in the stews, but 
 grant divorce for one single act of privatest adultery, 
 notwithstanding that the word speaks a public and no- 
 torious frequency of fact, not without price ; we may 
 reason with as good leave, and as little straining to 
 the text, that our Saviour on set purpose chose this 
 word fornication, improperly applied to the lapse of 
 adultery, that we might not think ourselves bound 
 from all divorce, except when that fault hath been actu- 
 ally committed. For the language of Scripture signi- 
 fies by fornication (and others besides St. Austin so ex- 
 pounded it) not only the trespass of body, nor perhaps 
 that between married persons, unless in a degree or 
 quality as shameless as the bordello ; but signifies also 
 any notable disobedience, or intractable carriage of the 
 wife to the husband, as Judg. xix. 2, whereof at large 
 in " the Doctrine of Divorce," 1. 2. c. 18. Secondly, 
 signifies the apparent alienation of mind not to idola- 
 try, (which may seem to answer the act of adultery,) 
 
206 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 but far on this side, tu any point of will-worship, tbourrh 
 to the true God ; sometimes it notes the love of earthly 
 tbingfs, or worldly pleasures, thous;^h in a right believer, 
 Bometimes the least suspicion of unwitting idolatry*. 
 As Numb. XV. 39, wilful disobedience to any of the 
 least of God's commandments is called fornication : 
 Psal. Ixxiii. 26, 27. a distrust only in God, and with- 
 drawing from that nearness of zeal and confidence 
 which ought to be, is called fornication. We may be 
 sure it could not import thus much less than idolatry in 
 the borrowed metaphor between God and man, unless 
 it signified as much less than adultery in the ordinary 
 acceptation between man and wife. Add also, that 
 there was no need our Saviour should grant divorce for 
 adultery, it being death by law, and law then in force. 
 Which was the cause why Joseph sought to put away 
 bis betrothed wife privately, lest he should make her 
 an example of capital punishment, as learnedest ex- 
 pounders affirm, Herod being a great zealot of the 
 Mosaic law, and the Pharisees great masters of the 
 text, as the woman taken in adultery doubtless had 
 cause to fear. Or if they can prove it was neglected, 
 which they cannot do, why did our Saviour shape his 
 answer to the corruption of that age, and not rather 
 tell them of their neglect ? If they say he came not to 
 meddle with their judicatures, much less then was it in 
 his thought to make them new ones, or that divorce 
 should be judicially resti-ained in a stricter manner by 
 these his words, more than adultery judicially acquit- 
 ted by those his words to the adulteress. His sentence 
 doth no more by law forbid divorce here, than by law 
 it doth absolve adultery there. To them therefore, who 
 have drawn this yoke upon Christians from his words 
 thus wrested, nothing remains but the guilt of a pre- 
 sumption and perverseness, which will be hard for them 
 to answer. Thus much that the word fornication is to 
 be understood as the language of Christ understands it 
 for a constant alienation and disaffection of mind, or 
 for the continual practice of disobedience and crossness 
 from the duties of love and peace ; that is, in sum, when 
 to be a tolerable wife is either naturally not in their 
 power, or obstinately not in their will : and this 
 opinion also is St. Austin's, lest it should hap to be 
 suspected of novelty. Yet grant the thing here meant 
 were only adultery, the reason of things will afford 
 more to our assertion, than did the reason of words. 
 For why is divorce unlawful but only for adultery.'' 
 because, say they, that crime only breaks the matri- 
 mony. But this, I reply, the institution itself gain- 
 says : for that which is most contrary to the words and 
 meaning of the institution, that most breaks the matri- 
 mony ; but a perpetual unmeetness and unwillingness 
 to all the duties of help, of love, and tranquillity, is 
 most contrary to the words and meaning of the insti- 
 tution; that therefore much more breaks matrimony 
 than the act of adultery, though repeated. For this, 
 as it is not felt, nor troubles him who perceives it not, 
 so being perceived, may be soon repented, soon amend- 
 ed : soon, if it can be pardoned, may be redeemed with 
 the more ardent love and duty in her who hath the 
 pardon. But this natural unmeetness both cannot be 
 
 unknown long, and ever after cannot be amended, if it 
 be natural, and will not, if it be far gone obstinate. So 
 that wanting aught in the instant to be as great a breach 
 as adultery, it <j[ains it in the perpetuity to be greater. 
 Next, adultery does not exclude her other fitness, her 
 other pleasingness; she may be otiierwise both loving 
 and prevalent, as many adulteresses be; but in this 
 general unfitness or alienation she can be nothing to 
 him that can please. In adultery nothing is given from 
 the husband, which he misses, or enjoys the less, as it 
 may be subtly given ; but this unfitness defrauds him 
 of the whole contentment which is sought in wedlock. 
 And what benefit to him, though nothing be given by 
 the stealth of adultery to another, if that which there 
 is to give, whether it be solace, or society, be not such 
 as may justly content him ? and so not only deprives 
 him of M'hat it should give him, but gives him sorrow 
 and affliction, which it did not owe him. Besides, is 
 adultery the greatest breach of matrimony in respect 
 of the offence to God, or of the injury to man.^ If in 
 the former, then other sins may offend God more, and 
 sooner cause him to disunite his servant from being one 
 flesh with such an offender. If in respect of the latter, 
 other injuries are demonstrated therein more heavy to 
 man's nature than the iterated act of adultery. God 
 therefore, in his wisdom, would not so dispose his re- 
 medies, as to provide them for the less injuries, and not 
 allow them for the greater. Thus is won both from the 
 word fornication, and the reason of adultery, that the 
 exception of divorce is not limited to that act, but en- 
 larged to the causes above specified. 
 
 " And whoso marrieth her which is put away, doth 
 commit adultery."] By this clause alone, if by nothing 
 else, we may assure us that Christ intended not to de- 
 liver here the whole doctrine of divorce, but only to 
 condemn abuses. Otherwise to marry after desertion, 
 which the apostle, and the reformed churches at this 
 day, permit, is here forbid, as adultery. Be she never 
 so wrongfully deserted, or put away, as the law then 
 suffered, if thus forsaken and expulsed, she accept the 
 refuge and protection of any honester man who would 
 love her better, and give herself in marriage to him ; 
 by what the letter guides us, it shall be present adul- 
 tery to them both. This is either harsh and cruel, or 
 all the churches, teaching as they do to the contrary, 
 are loose and remiss ; besides that the apostle himself 
 stands deeply fined in a contradiction against our Sa- 
 viour. What shall we make of this ? what rather the 
 common interpreter can make of it, for they be his own 
 markets, let him now try ; let him try which way he 
 can wind in his Vertumnian distinctions and evasions, 
 if his canonical gabardine of text and letter do not now 
 sit too close about him, and pinch his activity : which 
 if I err not, hath here hampered itself in a spring fit 
 for those who put their confidence in alphabets. Span- 
 heim, a writer of " Evangelic Doubts," comes now and 
 confesses, that our Saviour's words are " to be limited 
 beyond the limitation there expressed, and excepted 
 beyond their own exception," as not speaking of what 
 happened rarely, but what most commonly. Is it so 
 rare, Spanhcim, to be deserted .'* or was it then so rare 
 
 i 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 207 
 
 lo put away injuriously, that a pei-son so hatefully ex- 
 pelled, should to the heaping- of more injury be turned 
 like an infectious thing- out of all marriag-e fruition 
 upon pain of adultery, as not considerable to the bre- 
 vity of this half sentence ? Of what then speaks our 
 Saviour? " of that collusion," saith he, " which was 
 then most frequent amonpr the Jews, of changing wives 
 and husbands throug-h inconstancy and unchaste de- 
 sires." Colhiders yourselves, as violent to this law of 
 God by your unmerciful binding, as the Pharisees by 
 their unbounded loosening! Have thousands of chris- 
 tian souls perished as to this life, and God knows what 
 hath betided their consciences, for want of this healing 
 explanation ; and is it now at last obscurely drawn 
 forth, only to cure a scratch, and leave the main wound 
 spouting ? " Whosoever putteth away his wife, except 
 for fornication, committeth adultery." That shall be 
 spoke of all ages, and all men, though never so justly 
 otherwise moved to divorce : in the very next breath, 
 •' And whoso marrieth her which is put away commit- 
 teth adultery:" the men are new and miraculous, they 
 tell you now, " you are to limit it to that age, when it 
 was in fashion to chop matrimonies; and must be 
 meant of him who puts away with his wife's consent 
 through the lightness and lewdness of them both." 
 But by what rule of logic, or indeed of reason, is our 
 commission to understand the antecedent one way and 
 the consequent another? for in that habitude this whole 
 verse may be considered : or at least to take the parts 
 of a copulate axiom, both absolutely affirmative, and 
 to say, the first is absolutely true, the other not, but 
 must be limited to a certain time and custom ; which 
 is no less than to say they are both false ? For in this 
 compound axiom, be the parts never so many, if one 
 of them do but falter, and be not equally absolute and 
 general, the rest are all false. If therefore, that " he 
 who marries her which is put away commits adultery," 
 be not generally true, neither is it generally true, that 
 " he commits adultery who puts away for other cause 
 than fornication." And if the marrying her which is 
 put away must be understood limited, which they can- 
 not but yield it must, with the same limitation must 
 be understood the putting away. Thus doth the com- 
 mon exposition confound itself and justify this which 
 is here brought ; that our Saviour, as well in the first 
 part of this sentence as in the second, prohibited only 
 such divorces as the Jews then made through malice 
 or through plotted licence, not those which are for 
 necessary and just causes; where charity and wisdom 
 disjoins, that which not God, but errour and disaster, 
 joined. 
 
 And there is yet to this our exposition, a stronger 
 siding friend, than any can be an adversary, unless St. 
 Paul be doubted, who repeating a command concern- 
 ing divorce, 1 Cor. vii. which is agreed by writers to 
 be the same with this of our Saviour, and appointing 
 that the " wife remain unmarried, or be reconciled to 
 her husband," leaves it infallible, that our Saviour spake 
 chiefly against putting away for casual and choleric 
 disagreements, or any other cause which may with 
 human patience and wisdom be reconciled ; not hereby 
 
 meaning to hale and dash together the irreconcileable 
 aversations of nature, nor to tie up a faultless person 
 like a parricide, as it were into one sack with an 
 enemy, to be his causeless tormentor and executioner 
 the length of a long life. Lastly, let this sentence of 
 Christ be understood how it will, yet that it was never 
 intended for a judicial law, to be enforced by the ma- 
 gistrate, besides that the office of our Saviour had no 
 such purpose in the gospel, this latter part of the sen- 
 tence may assure us, "And whoso marrieth her which 
 is put away, commits adultery." Shall the exceptiou 
 for adultery belong to this clause or not ? If not, it 
 would be strange, that he who marries a woman really 
 divorced for adultery, as Christ permitted, should be- 
 come an adulterer by marrying one who is now no other 
 man's wife, himself being also free, who might by this 
 means reclaim her from common whoredom. And if 
 the exception must belong hither, then it follows that 
 he who marries an adulteress divorced commits no 
 adultery ; which would soon discover to us what an 
 absurd and senseless piece of injustice this would be, 
 to make a civil statute of in penal courts : whereby the 
 adulteress put away may marry another safely ; and 
 without a crime to him th.at marries her; but the inno- 
 cent and wrongfully divorced shall not marry again 
 without the guilt of adultery both to herself and to her 
 second husband. This saying of Christ therefore can- 
 not be made a temporal law, were it but for this 
 reason. Nor is it easy to say what coherence there is 
 at all in it from the letter, to any perfect sense not ob- 
 noxious to some absurdity, and seems much less agree- 
 able to whatever else of the gospel is left us written : 
 doubtless by our Saviour spoken in that fierceness and 
 abstruse intricacy, first to amuse his tempters, and ad- 
 monish in general the abusers of that Mosaic law ; next, 
 to let Herod know a second knower of his unlawful 
 act, though the Baptist were beheaded ; last, that his 
 disciples and all good men might learn to expound him 
 in this place, as in all other his precepts, not by the 
 written letter, but by that unerring paraphrase of chris- 
 tian love and charity, which is the sum of all commands, 
 and the perfection. 
 
 Ver. 10. " His disciples say unto him, If the case 
 of the man be so with his wife, it is not good to 
 marry." 
 
 This verse I add, to leave no objection behind un- 
 answered : for some may think, if this our Saviour's 
 sentence be so fair, as not commanding aught that pa- 
 tience or nature cannot brook, why then did the disciples 
 murmur and say, " it is not good to marry ?" I answer, 
 that the disciples had been longer bred up under the 
 pharissean doctrine, than under that of Christ, and so 
 no marvel though they yet retained the infection of 
 loving old licentious customs ; no marvel though they 
 thought it hard they might not for any offence, that 
 thoroughly angered them, divorce a wife, as well as 
 put away a servant, since it was but giving her a bill, 
 as they were taught. Secondly, it was no unwonted 
 thing with them not to understand our Saviour in mat- 
 ters far easier. So that be it granted their conceit of 
 
2(» 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 this text was the same which is now commonly con- 
 ceived, according to the usual rate of their capacity 
 then, it will not hurt a better interpretation. But why 
 did not Christ, seeing their errour, infonn them ? for 
 good cause, it was bis professed method not to teach 
 them all things at all times, but each thing in due 
 place and season. Christ said, Luke xxii. that " he 
 who had no sword, should sell his garment and buy 
 one :" the disciples took it in a manifest wrong sense, 
 yet our Saviour did not there inform them better. He 
 told them, " it was easier for a camel to go through a 
 needle's eye," than a rich man in at heaven-gate. 
 They were " amazed exceedingly :" he explained him- 
 self to mean of those " who trust in riches," Mark x. 
 " They were amazed then out of measure," for so Mark 
 relates it; as if his explaining had increased their 
 amazement in such a plain case, and which concerned 
 so nearly their calling to be informed in. Good reason 
 therefore, if Christ at that time did not stand amplify- 
 ing, to the thick prejudice and tradition wherein they 
 were, this question of more difficulty, and less concern- 
 ment to any perhaps of them in particular. Yet did he 
 not omit to sow within them the seeds of a sufficient 
 determining, against the time that his promised Spirit 
 should bring all things to their memory. He had de- 
 clared in their hearing not long before, how distant he 
 was from abolishing the law itself of divorce ; he had 
 referred them to the institution ; and after all this, 
 g^ves them a set answer, from which they might collect 
 what was clear enough, that " all men cannot receive 
 all sayings," ver. IL If such regard be had to each 
 man's receiving of marriage or single life, what can 
 arise, that the same christian regard should not be had 
 in most necessary divorce .'' All which instructed both 
 them and us, that it beseemed his disciples to learn the 
 deciding of this question, which hath nothing new in 
 it, first by the institution, then by the general grounds 
 of religion, not by a particular saying here and there, 
 tempered and levelled only to an incident occasion, the 
 riddance of a tempting assault. For what can this be 
 but weak and shallow apprehension, to forsake the 
 standard principles of institution, faith and charity; 
 then to be blank and various at every occurrence in 
 Scripture, and in a cold spasm of scruple, to rear pecu- 
 liar doctrines upon the place, that shall bid the gray 
 authority of most unchangeable and sovereign rules 
 to stand by and be contradicted .'' Thus to this evan- 
 gelic precept of famous difficulty, which for these many 
 ages weakly understood, and violently put in practice, 
 hath made a shambles rather than an ordinance of 
 matrimony, I am firm a truer exposition cannot be 
 given. If this or that argument here used please not 
 every one, there is no scarcity of arguments, any half 
 of them will suffice. Or should they all fail, as truth 
 itself can fail as soon, I should content me with the in- 
 stitution alone to wage this controversy, and not distrust 
 to evince. If any need it not, the happier; yet Chris- 
 tians ought to study earnestly what may be another's 
 need. But if, as mortal mischances are, .some hap to 
 need it, let them be sure they abuse not, and give God 
 his thanks, who hatb revived this remedy, not too late 
 
 for them, and scowered off an inveterate misexposition 
 from the gospel : a work not to perish by the vain 
 breath or doom of this age. Our next industry shall 
 be, under the same guidance, to try with what fidelity 
 that remaining passage in the Epistles touching this 
 matter hath been commented. 
 
 1 Cor. vii. 10, &c. 
 
 10. " And unto the married I command," Sec. 
 
 11. " And let not the husband put away his wife." 
 
 This intimates but what our Saviour taught before, 
 that divorce is not rashly to be made, but reconcilement 
 to be persuaded and endeavoured, as oft as the cause 
 can have to do with reconcilement, and is not under 
 the dominion of blameless nature ; which may have 
 reason to depart, though seldomest and last from cha- 
 ritable love, yet sometimes from friendly, and familiar, 
 and something oftener from conjugal love, which re- 
 quires not only moral, but natural causes to the makiug 
 and maintaining; and maybe warrantably excused to 
 retire from the deception of what it justly seeks, and 
 the ill requitals which unjustly it finds. For nature 
 hath her zodiac also, keeps her great annual circuit 
 over human things, as truly as the sun and planets in 
 the firmament; hath her anomalies, hath her obliquities 
 in ascensions and declinations, accesses and recesses, 
 as blamelessly as they in heaven. And sitting in her 
 planetary orb with two reins in each hand, one strait, 
 the other loose, tempers the course of minds as well as 
 bodies to several conjunctions and oppositions, friendly 
 or unfriendly aspects, consenting oftest with reason, 
 but never contrary. This in the eflfect no man of 
 meanest reach but daily sees ; and though to every 
 one it appear not in the cause, yet to a clear capacity, 
 well nurtured with good reading and observation, it 
 cannot but be plain and visible. Other exposition 
 therefore than hath been given to former places, that 
 give light to these two summary verses, will not be 
 needful : save only that these precepts are meant to 
 those married who diflfer not in religion. 
 
 " But to the rest speak I, not the Lord : if any bro- 
 ther hath a wife that believeth not, and she be pleased 
 to dwell with him, let him not put her away." 
 
 Now follows what is to be done, if the persons wed- 
 ded be of a different faith. The common belief is, that 
 a Christian is here commanded not to divorce, if the 
 infidel please to stay, though it be but to vex, or to de- 
 ride, or to seduce the Christian. This doctrine will be 
 the easy work of a refutation. The other opinion is, 
 that a Christian is here conditionally permitted to hold 
 wedlock with a misbeliever only, upon hopes limited 
 by christian prudence, which without much difficulty 
 shall be defended. That this here spoken by Paul, 
 not by the Lord, cannot be a command, these reasons 
 avouch. First, the law of Moses, Exod. xxxiv. 16, 
 Deut. vii. 3, 6, interpreted by Ezra and Nehemiah, two 
 infallible authors, commands to divorce an infidel not 
 for the fear only of a ceremonious defilement, but of 
 an irreligious seducement, feared both in respect of the 
 believer himself, and of his children in danger to be 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 209 
 
 perverted by the misbelieving' parent, Nehem. xiii. 24, 
 26. And Peter Martyr thoug-ht this a convincing rea- 
 son. If therefore the legal pollution vanishing have 
 abrogated the ceremony of this law, so that a Christian 
 may be permitted to retain an infidel without unclean- 
 iiess, yet the moral reason of divorcing stands to eter- 
 nity, which neither apostle nor angel from heaven can 
 countermand. All that they reply to this is their human 
 warrant, that God will preserve us in our obedience to 
 this command against the danger of seducement. And 
 so undoubtedly he will, if we understand his commands 
 aright ; if we turn not this evangelic permission into 
 a legal, and yet illegal, command ; if we turn not hope 
 into bondage, the charitable and free hope of gaining 
 another into the forced and servile temptation of losing 
 ourselves : but more of this beneath. Thus these words 
 of Paul by common doctrine made a command, are 
 made a contradiction to the moral law. 
 
 Secondly, Not the law only, but the gospel from the 
 law, and from itself, requires even in the same chap- 
 ter, where divorce between them of one religion is so 
 narrowly forbid, rather than our christian love should 
 come into danger of backsliding, to forsake all relations 
 how near soever, and the wife expressly, with promise 
 of a high reward. Matt. xix. And he who hates not 
 father or mother, wife or children, hindering his christ- 
 ian course, much more if they despise or assault it, can- 
 not be a disciple, Luke xiv. How can the apostle then 
 command us to love and continue in that matrimony, 
 which our Saviour bids us hate and forsake ? They can 
 as soon teach our faculty of respiration to contract and 
 to dilate itself at once, to breathe and to fetch breath 
 in the same instant, as teach our minds bow to do such 
 contrary acts as these towards the same object, and as 
 they must be done in the same moment. For either 
 the hatred of her religion, and her hatred to our religion, 
 will work powerfully against the love of her society, 
 or the love of that will by degrees flatter out all our 
 zealous hatred and forsaking, and soon ensnare us to 
 unchristianly compliances. 
 
 Thirdly, In marriage there ought not only to be a 
 civil love, but such a love as Christ loves his church ; 
 but where the religion is contrary without hope of con- 
 version, there can be no love, no faith, no peaceful so- 
 ciety, (they of the other opinion confess it,) nay there 
 ought not to be, further than in expectation of gaining 
 a soul ; when that ceases, we know God hath put an 
 enmity between the seed of the woman, and the seed 
 of the serpent. Neither should we " love them that hate 
 the Lord," as the prophet told Jehoshaphat, 2 Chron. 
 xix. And this apostle himself in another place warns 
 us, that we " be not unequally yoked with infidels," 2 
 Cor. vi. for that there can be no fellowship, no com- 
 munion, no concord between such. Outward commerce 
 and civil intercourse cannot perhaps be avoided ; but 
 true friendship and familiarity there can be none. 
 How vainly therefore, not to say how impiously, would 
 the most inward and dear alliance of marriage or con- 
 tinuance in marriage be commanded, where true friend- 
 ship is confessed impossible ! For, say they, we are 
 forbid here to marry with an infidel, not bid to divorce. 
 
 But to rob the words thus of their full sense, will not 
 be allowed them : it is not said, enter not into yoke, 
 but " be not unequally yoked ;" which plainly forbids 
 the thing in present act, as well as in purpose : and 
 his manifest conclusion is, not only that " we should 
 not touch," but that having touched, " we should come 
 out from among them, and be separate;" with the pro- 
 mise of a blessing thereupon, that " God will receive 
 us, will be our father, and we his sons and daughters," 
 ver. 17, 18. Why we should stay with an infidel after 
 the expense of all our hopes can be but for a civil rela- 
 tion ; but why we should depart from a seducer, setting 
 aside the misconstruction of this place, is from a religi- 
 ous necessity of departing. The worse cause therefore 
 of staying (if it be any cause at all, for civil govern- 
 ment forces it not) must not overtop the religious cause 
 of separating, executed with such an urgent zeal, and 
 such a prostrate humiliation, by Ezra and Nehemiah. 
 What God hates to join, certainly he cannot love should 
 continue joined ; it being all one in matter of ill conse- 
 quence, to marry, or to continue married with an infidel, 
 save only so long as we wait willingly, and with a safe 
 hope. St. Paul therefore citing here a command of the 
 Lord Almighty, for so he terms it, that we should sepa- 
 rate, cannot have bound us with that which he calls 
 his own, whether command or counsel, that we should 
 not separate. 
 
 Which is the fourth reason, for he himself takes care 
 lest we should mistake him, " but to the rest speak I, 
 not the Lord." If the Lord spake not, then man spake 
 it, and man hath no lordship to command the con- 
 science : yet modem interpreters will have it a com- 
 mand, maugre St. Paul himself; they will make him a 
 prophet like Caiaphas, to speak the word of the Lord, 
 not thinking, nay denying to think : though he disa- 
 vow to have received it from the Lord, his word shall 
 not be taken ; though an apostle, he shall be borne 
 down in his own epistle, by a race of expositors who 
 presume to know from whom he spake, better than he 
 himself Paul deposes, that the Lord speaks not this ; 
 they, that the Lord speaks it: can this be less than to 
 brave him with a full-faced contradiction ? Certainly 
 to such a violence as this, for I cannot call it an ex- 
 pounding, what a man should answer I know not, un- 
 less that if it be their pleasure next to put a gag into 
 the apostle's mouth, they are already funiished with 
 a commodious audacity toward the attempt. Beza 
 would seem to shun the contradictory, by telling us 
 that the Lord spake it not in person, as he did the for- 
 mer precept. But how many other doctrines doth St. 
 Paul deliver, which the Lord spake not in person, and 
 yet never uses this preamble but in things indiflferent ! 
 So long as we receive him for a messenger of God, for 
 him to stand sorting sentences, what the Lord spake in 
 person, and what he, not the Lord in person, would be 
 but a chill trifling, and his readers might catch an ague 
 the while. But if we shall supply the grammatical 
 ellipsis regularly, and as we must in the same tense, 
 all will be then clear, for we cannot supply it thus, to 
 the rest I speak, the Lord spake not ; but I speak, the 
 Lord speaks not. If then the Lord neither spake in 
 
210 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 person, uor speaks it now, the apostle testifying' both, 
 it follows duly, that this can be no command. For- 
 sooth the fear is, lest this, not being a command, would 
 prove an evang'elic counsel, and so make way for su- 
 pererogations. As if t':e apostle could not speak his 
 mind in things indifferent, as he doth in four or five 
 several places of this chapter with the like preface of 
 not commanding, but that the doubted inconvenience 
 of supererogating must needs rush in. And how adds 
 it to the word of the Lord, (for this also they object,) 
 whenas the apostle by his christian prudence guides us 
 in the liberty which God hath left us to, without com- 
 mand.'* Could not the Spirit of God instruct us by him 
 what was free, as well as what was not ? But what 
 need I more, when Cameron, an ingenuous writer, and 
 in high esteem, solidly confutes the surmise of a com- 
 mand here, and among other words hath these ; that 
 " when Paul speaks as an apostle, he uses this form," 
 The Lord saith, not I, ver. 10 ; " but as a private man 
 he saith, I speak, not the Lord." And thus also all the 
 prime fathers, Austin, Jerom, and the rest, understood 
 this place. 
 
 Fifthly, The very stating of the question declares 
 this to be no command ; " If any brother hath an un- 
 believing wife, and she be pleased to dwell with him, 
 let him not put her away." For the Greek word avvii'- 
 coKtl does not imply only her being pleased to stay, but 
 his being pleased to let her stay ; it must be a consent 
 of them both. Nor can the force of this word be ren- 
 dered less, without either much negligence or iniquity 
 of him that otherwise translates it. And thus the Greek 
 church also and their synods understood it, who best 
 knew what their own language meant, as appears by 
 Matthceus Monachus, an author set forth by Leuncla- 
 vius, and of antiquity perhaps not inferior to Balsa- 
 raon, who writes upon the canons of the apostles : this 
 author in his chap. " That marriage is not to be made 
 with heretics," thus recites the second canon of the 
 6th synod : " As to the Corinthians, Paul determines ; 
 If the believing wife choose to live with the unbeliev- 
 ing husband, or the believing husband with the unbe- 
 lieving wife. Mark," saith he, " how the apostle here 
 condescends, if the believer please to dwell with the 
 unbeliever; so that if he please not, out of doubt the 
 marriage is dissolved. And I am persuaded it was so 
 in the beginning, and thus preached." And thereupon 
 g^ves an example of one, who though not deserted, yet 
 by the decree of Theodotus the patriarch divorced an 
 unbelieving wife. What therefore depends in the plain 
 state of this question on the consent and well liking of 
 them both must not be a command. Lay next the lat- 
 ter end of the 11th verse to the 12th, (for wherefore else 
 is logic taught us?) in a discreet axiom, as it can be 
 no other by the phrase; " The Lord saith, Let not the 
 husband put away his wife : but I say, Let him not put 
 away a misbelieving wife." This sounds as if by the 
 judgment of Paul a man might put away any wife but 
 the misbelieving ; or else the parts arc not discrete, or 
 dissentany, for botli conclude not putting away, and 
 consequently in such a form the proposition is ridicu- 
 lous. Of necessity therefore the former part of this 
 
 sentence must be conceived, as understood, and silently 
 granted, that although the Lord command to divorce 
 an infidel, yet I, not the Lord, command you. No, but 
 give my judgment, that for some evangelic reasons a 
 Christian may be permitted not to divorce her. Thus 
 while we reduce the brevity of St. Paul to a plainer 
 sense, by the needful supply of that which was granted 
 between him and the Corinthians, the very logic of his 
 speech extracts him confessing, that the Lord's com- 
 mand lay in a seeming contrariety to this his counsel : 
 and that he meant not to thrust out a command of the 
 Lord by a new one of bis own, as one nail drives an- 
 other, but to release us from the rigour of it, by the 
 right of the gospel, so far forth as a charitable cause 
 leads us in the hope of winning another soul without 
 the peril of losing our own. For this is the glory of 
 the gospel, to teach us that " the end of the command- 
 ment is charity," 1 Tim. i. not the drudging out a poor 
 and worthless duty forced from us by the tax and tale 
 of so many letters. This doctrine therefore can be no 
 command, but it must contradict the moral law, the 
 gospel, and the apostle himself, both elsewhere and 
 here also even in the act of speaking. 
 
 If then it be no command, it must remain to be a 
 permission, and that not absolute, for so it would be 
 still contrary to the law, but with such a caution as 
 breaks not the law, but as the manner of the gospel is, 
 fulfils it through charity. The law had two reasons, 
 the one was ceremonial, the pollution that all Gentiles 
 were to the Jews ; this the vision of Peter had abol- 
 ished, Acts X. and cleansed all creatures to the use of 
 a Christian. The Corinthians understood not this, but 
 feared lest dwelling in matrimony with an unbeliever, 
 they were defiled. The apostle discusses that scruple 
 with an evangelic reason, shewing them that although 
 God heretofore under the law, not intending the con- 
 version of the Gentiles, except some special ones, held 
 them as polluted things to the Jew, yet now purposing 
 to call them in, he hath purified them from that legal 
 uncleanness wherein they stood, to use and to be used 
 in a pure manner. 
 
 For saith he, " The unbelieving husband is sanctified 
 by the wife, and the unbelieving wife is sanctified by 
 the husband, else were your children unclean ; but 
 now they are holy." That is, they are sanctified to 
 you, from that legal impurity which you so fear ; and 
 are brought into a near capacity to be holy, if they be- 
 lieve, and to have free access to holy things. In the 
 mean time, as being God's creatures, a Christian hath 
 power to use them according to their proper use ; iu as 
 much as now, " all things to the pure are become pure." 
 In this legal respect therefore ye need not doubt to 
 continue in marriage with an unbeliever. Thus others 
 also expound this place, and Cameron especially. 
 This reason warrants us only what we may do without 
 fear of pollution, does not bind us that we must. But 
 the other rea.son of the law to divorce an infidel was 
 moral, the avoiding of enticement from the true faith. 
 This cannot shrink ; but remains in as full force as 
 ever, to save the actual Christian from the snare of a 
 misbeliever. Yet if a Christian full of grace and «^i- 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 211 
 
 ritual gifts, finding' the misbeliever not frowardly af^ 
 fected, fears not a seducing-, but hopes rather a gain- 
 ing", who sees not that this moral reason is not violated 
 by not divorcing-, which the law commanded to do, but 
 better fulfilled by the excellence of the gospel working 
 through charity ? For neither the faithful is seduced, 
 and the unfaithful is either saved, or with all discharge 
 of love and evangelic duty sought to be saved. But 
 contrariwise, if the infirm Christian shall be com- 
 manded here against his mind, against his hope, and 
 against his strength, to dwell with all the scandals, 
 the household persecutions, or alluring temptations of 
 an infidel, how is not the gospel by this made harsher 
 than the law, and more yoking .'' Therefore the apos- 
 tle, ere he deliver this other reason why we need not 
 in all haste put away an infidel, his mind misgiving 
 him, lest he should seem to be the imposer of a new 
 command, stays not for method, but with an abrupt 
 speed inserts the declaration of their liberty in this 
 matter. 
 
 "But if the unbelieving depart, let him depart; a 
 brother or a sister is not under bondage in such cases : 
 but God hath called us to peace." 
 
 "But if the unbelieving depart."] This cannot be 
 restrained to local departure only : for who knows not 
 that an oflTensive society is worse than a forsaking.** If 
 his purpose of cohabitation be to endanger the life, or 
 the conscience, Beza himself is half persuaded, that 
 this may purchase to the faithful person the same free- 
 dom that a desertion may ; and so Gerard and others 
 whom he cites. If therefore he depart in aflfection ; if 
 he depart from giving hope of his conversion ; if he 
 disturb, or scoff at religion, seduce or tempt; if he 
 rage, doubtless not the weak only, but the strong may 
 leave him : if not for fear, yet for the dignity's sake of 
 religion, which cannot be liable tr all base affronts, 
 merely for the worshipping of a civil marriage. I 
 take therefore " departing " to be as large as the nega- 
 tive of being well pleased : that is, if he be not pleased 
 for the present to live lovingly, quietly, inoffensively, 
 so as may give good hope ; which appears well by that 
 which follows. 
 
 " A brother or a sister is not under bondage in such 
 cases."] If St. Paul provide seriously against the bon- 
 dage of a Christian, it is not the only bondage to live 
 unmarried for a deserting infidel, but to endure his 
 presence intolerably, to bear indignities against his re- 
 ligion in words or deeds, to be wearied with seduce- 
 ments, to have idolatries and superstitions ever before 
 his eyes, to be tormented with impure and prophane 
 conversation ; this must needs be bondage to a Chris- 
 tian : is this left all unprovided for, without remedy, 
 or freedom granted .•* Undoubtedly no ; for the apostle 
 leaves it further to be considered with prudence, what 
 bondage a brother or sister is not under, not only in 
 this case, but as he speaks himself plurally, " in such 
 cases." 
 
 " But God hath called us to peace."] To peace, not 
 
 to bondage, not to brabbles and contentions with him 
 
 who is not pleased to live peaceably, as marriage and 
 
 Christianity require. And where strife arises from a 
 
 p 
 
 cause hopeless to be allayed, what better way to peace 
 than by separating that which is ill joined ? It is not 
 divorce that first breaks the peace of a family, as some 
 fondly comment on this place, but it is peace already 
 broken, which, when other cures fail, can only be re- 
 stored to the faultless person by a necessary divorce. 
 And St. Paul here warrants us to seek peace, rather 
 than to remain in bondage. If God hath called us to 
 peace, why should we not follow him ? why should we 
 miserably stay in perpetual discord under a servitude 
 not required ? 
 
 " For what knowest thou, O wife, whether thou shalt 
 save thy husband," &c.] St. Paul having thus cleared 
 himself, not to go about the mining of our christian 
 liberty, not to cast a snare upon us, which to do 
 he so much bated, returns now to the second reason of 
 that law, to put away an infidel for fear of seducement, 
 which he does not here contradict with a command now 
 to venture that ; but if neither the infirmity of the Chris- 
 tian, nor the strength of the unbeliever, be feared, but 
 hopes appearing that he may be won, he judges it no 
 breaking of that law, though the believer be permitted 
 to forbear divorce, and can abide, without the peril of 
 seducement, to offer the charity of a salvation to wife 
 or husband, which is the fulfilling, not the transgress- 
 ing, of that law ; and well worth the undertaking with 
 much hazard and patience. For what knowest thou, 
 whether thou shalt save thy wife that is, till all means 
 convenient and possible with discretion and probabi- 
 lity, as human things are, have been used. For 
 Christ himself sends not our hope on pilgrimage to 
 the world's end ; but sets it bounds, beyond which we 
 need not wait on a brother, much less on an infidel. 
 If after such a time we may count a professing Chris- 
 tian no better than a heathen, after less time perhaps 
 we may cease to hope of a heathen, that he will turn 
 Christian. Otherwise, to bind us harder than the 
 law, and tell us we are not under bondage, is mere 
 mockery. If, till the unbeliever please to part, we 
 may not stir from the house of our bondage, then 
 certain this our liberty is not grounded in the pur- 
 chase of Christ, but in the pleasure of a miscreant. 
 What knows the loyal husband, whether he may not 
 save the adulteress ? he is not therefore bound to re- 
 ceive her. What knows the wife, but she may re- 
 claim her husband who hath deserted her? Yet the 
 reformed churches do not enjoin her ta wait longer 
 than after the contempt of an ecclesiastical summons. 
 Beza himself here befriends us with a remarkable 
 speech, " What could be firmly constituted in human 
 matters, if under pretence of expecting grace from 
 above, it should be never lawful for us to seek our 
 right ?" And yet in other cases not less reasonable to 
 obtain a most just and needful remedy by divorce, he 
 turns the innocent party to a task of prayers beyond 
 the multitude of beads and rosaries, to beg the gift of 
 chastity in recompense of an injurious marriage. But 
 the apostle is evident enough, " we are not under 
 bondage ;" trusting that he writes to those who are 
 not ignorant what bondage is, to let supercilious de- 
 terminers cheat them of their freedom. God hath 
 
212 
 
 EXPOSITIONS OX THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 calletl us to peace, and so doubtless hath left in our 
 hands how to obtain it seasonably : if it he not our own 
 choice to sit ever like novices wretchedly servile. 
 
 Thus much the apostle iu this question between 
 Christian and pagan, to us now of little use; yet sup- 
 posing' it written for our instruction, as it may be rightly 
 applied, I doubt not but that the diflTcrence between a 
 true believer and a heretic, or any one truly religious 
 either deserted or seeking divorce from any one grossly 
 erroneous or propbane, may be referred hither. Por 
 St. Paul leaves us here the solution not of this case 
 only, which little concerns us, but of such like cases, 
 which may occur to us. For where the reasons directly 
 s«|uare, who can forbid why the verdict should not be 
 the same P But this the common writers allow us not. 
 And yet from this text, which in plain words give liberty 
 to none, unless deserted by an infidel, they collect the 
 same freedom, though the desertion be not for religion, 
 which, as I conceive, they need not do; but may, 
 without straining, reduce it to the cause of fornication. 
 For first, they confess that desertion is seldom without 
 a just suspicion of adultery : next, it is a breach of 
 marriage in the same kind, and in some sort worse : 
 for adultery, though it give to another, yet it bereaves 
 not all ; but the deserter wholly denies all right, and 
 makes one flesh twain, which is counted the absolutcst 
 breach of matrimony, and causes the other, as much as 
 in him lies, to commit sin, by being so left. Never- 
 theless, those reasons, which they bring of establishing 
 by this place the like liberty from any desertion, are 
 fair and solid : and if the thing be lawful, and can be 
 proved so, more ways than one, so much the safer. 
 Their arguments I shall here recite, and that they may 
 not come idle, shall use them to make good the like 
 freedom to divorce for other causes ; and that we are 
 no more under bondage to any heinous default against 
 the main ends of matrimony, than to a desertion : first 
 they allege that 1 to Tim. v. 8, " If any provide not 
 for those of his own house, he hath denied the faith, 
 and is worse than an infidel." But a deserter, say they, 
 *' can have no care of them who are most his own ; 
 therefore the deserted party is not less to be righted 
 against such a one, than against an infidel." With the 
 same evidence I argue, that man or wife, who hates in 
 wedlock, is perpetually unsociable, unpeaccful, or un- 
 duteous, either not being able, or not willing to perform 
 what the main ends of marriage demand in help and 
 solace, cannot be said to care for who should be dearest 
 in the house ; therefore is worse than an infidel in both 
 regards, either in undeitaking a duty which he cannot 
 perform, to the undeserved and unspeakable injury of 
 the other party so defrauded and betrayed, or not per- 
 forming what he hath undertaken, whenas he may or 
 might have, to the perjury of himself, more irreligious 
 than heathenism. The blameless person therefore hath 
 as good a plea to sue out his delivery from this bond- 
 age, as from the desertion of an infidel. Since most 
 writers cannot but g^ant that desertion is not only a 
 local absence, but an intolerable society ; or if they 
 grant it not, the reasons of St. Paul grant it, with as 
 much leave as they grant to enlarge a particular free- 
 
 dom from paganism, into a general freedom from any 
 desertion. Secondly, they reason from the likeness of 
 either fact, " the same loss redounds to the deserted by 
 a Christian, as by an infidel, the same peril of tempta- 
 tion." And I in like manner affirm, that if honest and 
 free persons may be allowed to know what is most to 
 their own loss, the same loss and discontent, but worse 
 disquiet, with continual misery and temptation, resides 
 in the company, or better called the persecution of aii 
 unfit, or an unpeaceable consort, than by his desertion. 
 For then the deserted may enjoy himself at least. And 
 he who deserts is more favourable to the party whom 
 his presence afflicts, than that importunate thing, which 
 is and will be ever conversant before the eyes, a loyal 
 and individual vexation. As for those who still rudely 
 urge it no loss to marriage, no desertion, so long as the 
 flesh is present, and offers a benevolence that hates, or 
 is justly hated ; I am not of that vulgar and low per- 
 suasion, to think such forced embracements as these 
 worth the honour, or the humanity of marriage, but 
 far beneath the soul of a rational and freeborn man. 
 Thirdly, they say, " It is not the infidelity of the de- 
 serter, but the desertion of the infidel, from which the 
 apostle gives this freedom :" and I join, that the apos- 
 tle could as little require our subjection to an unfit and 
 injurious bondage present, as to an infidel absent. To 
 free us from that which is an evil by being distant, and 
 not from that which is an inmate, and in the bosom 
 evil, argues an improvident and careless deliverer. 
 And thus all occasions, which way soever they luni, 
 are not unofficious to administer something which may 
 conduce to explain or to defend the assertion of this 
 book touching divorce. I complain of nothing, but 
 that it is indeed too copious to be the matter of a dis- 
 pute, or a defence, rather to be yielded, as in the best 
 ages, a thing of common reason, not of controversy. 
 What have I left to say ? I fear to be more elaborate in 
 such a perspicuity as this ; lest I should seem not to 
 teach, but to upbraid the dulness of an age ; not to 
 commune with reason in men, but to deplore the loss 
 of reason from among men : this only, and not the 
 want of more to say, is the limit of my discourse. 
 
 Who among the fathers have interpreted the words of 
 Christ concerning divorce, as is here interpreted ; 
 and what the civil law of christian emperors in the 
 primitive church determined. 
 
 Although testimony be in logic an argument rightly 
 called " inartificial," and doth not solidly fetch the truth 
 by multiplicity of authors, nor argue a thing false by 
 the few that hold so ; yet seeing most men from their 
 youth so accustom, as not to scan reason, nor clearly to 
 apprehend it, but to trust for that the names and num- 
 bers of such, as have got, and many times undeservedly, 
 the reputation among them to know much ; and be- 
 cause there is a vulgar also of teachers, who are as 
 blindly by whom they fancy led, as they lead the 
 people, it will not be amiss for tliem who had rather 
 list themselves under this weaker sort, and follow au- 
 thorities, to take notice that this opinion, which I bring, 
 hath been favoured, and by some of those affirmed, 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 2in 
 
 who in their time were able to carry what they taught, 
 had they urged it, through all Christendom ; or to 
 have left it such a credit with all good men, as they 
 who could not boldly use the opinion, would have 
 feared to censure it. But since by his appointment on 
 whom the times and seasons wait, every point of doc- 
 trine is not fatal to be thoroughly sifted out in every 
 age ; it will be enough forme to find, that the thoughts 
 of wisest heads heretofore, and hearts no less reverenced 
 for devotion, have tended this way, and contributed their 
 lot in some good measure towards this which hath been 
 here attained. Others of them, and modem especially, 
 have been as full in the assertion, though not so full 
 in the reason ; so that either in this regard, or in the 
 former, I shall be manifest in a middle fortune to meet 
 the praise or dispraise of being something first. 
 
 But I defer not what I undertook to shew, that in 
 the church both primitive and reformed, the words of 
 Christ have been understood to grant divorce for other 
 causes than adultery ; and that the word fornication in 
 marriage hath a larger sense than that commonly sup- 
 posed. 
 
 Justin Martyr in his first Apology, written within 
 fifty years after St. John died, relates a story which 
 Eusebius transcribes, that a certain matron of Rome, 
 the wife of a vicious husband, herself also formerly 
 vicious, but converted to the faith, and persuading the 
 same to her husband, at least the amendment of his 
 wicked life; upon his not yielding to her daily en- 
 treaties and persuasions in this behalf, procured by law 
 to be divorced from him. This was neither for adultery, 
 nor desertion, but as the relation says, " esteeming it 
 an ungodly thing to be the consort of bed with him, 
 who against the law of nature and of right sought out 
 voluptuous ways." Suppose he endeavoured some un- 
 natural abuse, as the Greek admits that meaning, it 
 cannot yet be called adultery ; it therefore could be 
 thought worthy of divorce no otherwise than as equi- 
 valent, or worse ; and other vices will appear in other 
 respects as much divorcive. Next, it is said her friends 
 advised her to stay a while; and what reason gave 
 they? not because they held unlawful what she pur- 
 posed, but because they thought she might longer yet 
 hope his repentance She obeyed, till the man going 
 to Alexandria, and from thence reported to grow still 
 more impenitent, not for any adultery or desertion, 
 whereof neither can be gathered, but saith the Martyr, 
 and speaks it like one approving, " lest she should be 
 partaker of his unrighteous and ungodly deeds, remain- 
 ing in wedlock, the communion of bed and board with 
 such a person, she left him by a lawful divorce." This 
 cannot but give us the judgment of the church in 
 those pure and next to apostolic times. For how else 
 could the woman have been permitted, or here not re- 
 prehended ? and if a wife might then do this without 
 reproof, a husband certainly might no less, if not 
 more. 
 
 Tertullian in the same age, writing his fourth Book 
 against Marcion, witnesses " that Christ, by his an- 
 swer to the Pharisees, protected the constitution of 
 Moses as bis own, and directed the institution of the 
 
 Creator," for I alter not his Carthaginian phrase ; " he 
 excused rather than destroyed the constitution of Moses; 
 I say, he forbid conditionally, if any one therefore put 
 away, that he may marry another: so that if he pro- 
 hibited conditionally, then not wholly : and what he 
 forbad not wholly, he permitted otherwise, where the 
 cause ceases for which he prohibited : " that is, when a 
 man makes it not the cause of his putting away, merely 
 that he may marry again. " Christ teaches not con- 
 trary to Moses, the justice of divorce hath Christ the 
 asserter : he would not have marriage separate, nor 
 kept with ignominy, permitting then a divorce ; " and 
 guesses that this vehemence of our Saviour's sentence 
 was chiefly bent against Herod, as was cited before. 
 Which leaves it evident how Tertullian interpreted this 
 prohibition of our Saviour : for whereas the text is, 
 " Whosoever putteth away, and marrieth another," 
 wherefore should Tertullian explain it, " Whosoever 
 putteth away that he may marry another," but to sig- 
 nify his opinion, that our Saviour did not forbid di- 
 vorce from an unworthy yoke, but forbid the malice or 
 the lust of a needless change, and chiefly those plotted 
 divorces then in use ? 
 
 Origen in the next century testifies to have known 
 certain who had the government of churches in his 
 time, who permitted some to marry, while yet their 
 former husbands lived, and excuses the deed, as done 
 " not witliout cause, though without Scripture," which 
 confirms that cause not to be adultery; for how then 
 was it against Scripture that they married again ? And 
 a little beneath, for I cite his seventh homily on Mat- 
 thew, saith he, " to endure faults worse than adultery 
 and fornication, seems a thing unreasonable ; " and 
 disputes therefore that Christ did not speak by " way 
 of precept, but as it were expounding." By which and 
 the like speeches, Origen declares his mind, far from 
 thinking that our Saviour confined all the causes of 
 divorce to actual adultery. 
 
 Lactantius, of the age that succeeded, speaking of 
 this matter in the 6th of his " Institutions," hath these 
 words : " But lest any think he may circumscribe di- 
 vine precepts, let this be added, that all misinterpret- 
 ing, and occasion of fraud or death may be removed, 
 he commits adultery who marries the divorced wife ; 
 and besides the crime of adultery, divorces a wife that 
 he may marry another." To divorce and marry another, 
 and to divorce that be may marry another, are two dif- 
 ferent things ; and imply that Lactantius thought not 
 this place the forbidding of all necessary divorce, but 
 such only as proceeded from the wanton desire of a 
 future choice, not from the burden of a present affliction. 
 
 About this time the council of Eliberis in Spain de- 
 creed the husband excommunicate, " if he kept his wife 
 being an adulteress ; hut if he left her, he might after 
 ten years be received into communion, if he retained 
 her any while in his house after the adultery known." 
 The council of Neocaesaria, in the year 314, decreed. 
 That if the wife of any laic were convicted of adultery, 
 that man could not be admitted into the ministry : if 
 after ordination it were committed, he was to divorce 
 her ; if not he could not hold his ministry. The coun- 
 
214 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 cil of Nantes condemned in seven years' penance tiie 
 husband, that would reconcile with an adulteress. But 
 how proves this that other causes may divorce ? It 
 proves thus : There can be but two causes why these 
 councils enjoined so strictly the divorcing of an adul- 
 teress, either as an offender against God, or against the 
 husband ; in the latter respect tliey could not impose 
 on him to divorce ; for every man is the master of his 
 own forgfiveness ; who shall hinder him to pardon the 
 injuries done against himself? It follows therefore, 
 that tJie divorce of an adulteress was commanded by 
 these three councils, as it was a sin against God ; and 
 by all consequence they could not but believe that 
 other sins as heinous might with equal justice be the 
 ground of a divorce. 
 
 Basil in his 73d rule, as Chamier numbers it, thus 
 determines; "That divorce ought not to be, unless for 
 adultery, or the hinderance to a godly life." What doth 
 this but proclaim aloud more causes of divorce than 
 adultery, if by other sins besides this, in wife or hus- 
 band, the godliness of the better person may be certainly 
 hindered and endangered ? 
 
 Epiphanius no less ancient, writing against heretics, 
 and therefore should himself be orthodo.xal above othei-s, 
 acquaints us in his second book, Tom. 1, not that his 
 private persuasion was, but that the whole church in 
 his time generally thought other causes of divorce law- 
 ful besides adulter}', as comprehended under that 
 name : " If," saith he, " a divorce happen for any cause, 
 either fornication or adultery, or any heinous fault, the 
 word of God blames not either the man or wife marry- 
 ing again, nor cuts them off from the congregation, or 
 from life, but bears with the "infirmity ; not that he 
 may keep both wives, but that leaving the former he 
 -may be lawfully joined to the latter : the holy word, 
 and the holy church of God, commiserates this man, 
 especially if he be otherwise of good conversation, and 
 live accordin_g to God's law." This place is clearer than 
 exposition, and needs no comment. 
 
 Ambrose, on the 16th of Luke, teaches " that all 
 wedlock is not God's joining :" and to the 19th of Prov. 
 " That a wife is prepared of the Lord," as the old Latin 
 translates it, he answers, that the Septuagint renders 
 it, " a wife is fitted by the Lord, and tempered to a kind 
 of harmony ; and where that harmony is, there God 
 joins ; where it is not, there dissension reigns, which 
 is not from God, for God is love." This he brings to 
 prove the marrying of Christian with Gentile to be no 
 marriage, and consequently divorced without sin : but 
 he who sees not this argument how plainly it serves to 
 divorce any untunable, or unatonable matrimony, sees 
 little. On the first to the Cor. vii. he grants a woman 
 may leave her husband not only for fornication, " but 
 for apostacy, and inverting nature, though not marry 
 again ; but the man may ;" here are causes of divorce 
 assigned other than adultery. And going on, he affirms, 
 " that the cause of God is greater than the cause of 
 matrimony ; that the reverence of wedlock is not due 
 to him who hates the author thereof; that no matri- 
 mony is firm without devotion to God ; that dishonour 
 ^one to God acquits the other being deserted from the 
 
 bond of matrimony ; that the faith of marriage is not 
 to be kept with such." If these contorted sentences 
 be aught worth, it is not the desertion that breaks 
 what is broken, but the impiety ; and who then may not 
 for that cause better divorce, than tarry to be deserted ? 
 or these grave savings of St. Ambrose are but knacks. 
 
 Jerom on the 19th of Matthew explains, that for the 
 cause of fornication, or the " suspicion thereof, a man 
 may freely divorce." What can breed that suspicion, 
 but sundry faults leading that way ."* By Jerom's con- 
 sent therefore divorce is free not only for actual adul- 
 tery, but for any cause that may incline a wise man to 
 the just suspicion thereof 
 
 Austin also must be remembered among those who 
 hold, that this instance of fornication gives equal in- 
 ference to other faults equally hateful, for which to 
 divorce : and therefore in his books to Pollentius he 
 disputes, " that infidelity, as being a greater sin than 
 adultery, ought so much the rather cause a divorce." 
 And on the sermon on the mount, under the name of 
 fornication, will have "idolatry, or any harmful super- 
 stition," contained, which are not thought to disturb 
 matrimony so directly as some other obstinacies and 
 disaffections, more against the daily duties of that 
 covenant, and in the Eastern tongues not unfrequently 
 called fornication, as hath been shewn. " Hence is un- 
 derstood," saith he, " that not only for bodily fornica- 
 tion, but for that which draws the mind from God's 
 law, and foully corrupts it, a man may without fault 
 put away his wife, and a wife her husband ; because 
 the Lord excepts the cause of fornication, which forni- 
 cation we are constrained to interpret in a general 
 sense." And in the first book of his " Retractations," 
 chap. 16, he retracts not this his opinion, but com- 
 mends it to serious consideration ; and explains that 
 he counted not there all sin to be fornication, but the 
 more detestable sort of sins. The cause of fornication 
 therefore is not in this discourse newly interpreted to 
 signify other faults infringing the duties of wedlock, 
 besides adultery. 
 
 Lastly, the council of Agatha in the year 500, Can, 
 25, decreed, that " if laymen who divorced without 
 some great fault, or giving no probable cause, therefore 
 divorced, that they might marry some unlawful person, 
 or some other man's, if before the provincial bishops 
 were made acquainted, or judgment passed, they pre- 
 sumed this, excommunication was the penalty." 
 Whence it follows, that if the cause of divorce were 
 some great offence, or that they gave probable causes 
 for what they did, and did not therefore divorce, that 
 they might presume with some unlawful person, or 
 what was another man's, the censure of church in 
 those days did not touch them. 
 
 Thus having alleged enough to shew, after what 
 manner the primitive church for above 500 years un- 
 derstood our Saviour's words touching divorce, I shall 
 now, with a labour less dispersed, and sooner dis- 
 patched, bring under view what the civil law of those 
 times constituted about this matter: I say the civil 
 law, which is the honour of every true civilian to stand 
 for, rather than to count that for law, which the ponti- 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 216 
 
 fical canon had enthralled them to, and instead of in- 
 terpreting a g-enerous and eleg-ant law, made them the 
 drudges of a blockish Rubric. 
 
 Theodosius and Valentinian, pious emperors both, 
 ordained that, " as by consent lawful marriages were 
 made, so by consent, but not without the bill of di- 
 vorce, they might be dissolved ; and to dissolve was 
 the more difficult, only in favour of the children." We 
 see the wisdom and piety of that age, one of the purest 
 and learnedest since Christ, conceived no hinderance 
 in the words of our Saviour, but that a divorce, mutu- 
 ally consented, might be suffered by the law, especially 
 if there were no children, or if there were, careful pro- 
 vision was made. And further saith that law, (suppos- 
 ing there wanted the consent of either,) " We design 
 the causes of divorce by this most wholesome law ; for 
 as we forbid the dissolving of marriage without just 
 cause, so we desire that a husband or a wife distressed 
 by some adverse necessity, should be freed though by 
 an unhappy, yet a necessary relief." What dram of 
 wisdom or religion (for charity is the truest religion) 
 could there be in that knowing age, which is not vir- 
 tually summed up in this most just law ? As for those 
 other christian emperors, from Constantine the first of 
 them, finding the Roman law in this point so answer- 
 able to the Mosaic, it might be the likeliest cause why 
 they altered nothing to restraint ; but if aught, rather 
 to liberty, for the help and consideration of the weaker 
 sex, according as the gospel seems to make the wife 
 more equal to her husband in these conjugal respects, 
 than the law of Moses doth. Therefore " if a man 
 were absent from his wife four years, and in that space 
 not heard of, though gone to war in the service of the 
 empire," she might divorce, and marry another, by the 
 edict of Constantine to Dalmatius, Cod. 1. 5, tit. 17. 
 And this was an age of the church, both ancient and 
 cried up still for the most flourishing in knowledge 
 and pious government since the apostles. But to re- 
 turn to this law of Theodosius, with this observation 
 by the way, that still as the church corrupted, as the 
 clergy grew more ignorant, and yet more usurping on 
 the magistrate, who also now declined, so still divorce 
 grew more restrained ; though certainly if better times 
 permitted the thing that worse times restrained, it 
 would not weakly argue that the permission was bet- 
 ter, and the restraint worse. This law therefore of 
 Theodosius, wiser in this than the most of his succes- 
 sors, though no wiser than God and Moses, reduced 
 the causes of divorce to a certain number, which by 
 the judicial law of God, and all recorded humanity, 
 were left before to the breast of each husband, provided 
 that the dismiss was not without reasonable conditions 
 to the wife. But this was a restraint not yet come to 
 extremes. For besides adultery, and that not only ac- 
 tual, but suspected by many signs there set down, any 
 fault equally punishable with adultery, or equally in- 
 famous, might be the cause of a divorce. Which in- 
 forms us how the wisest of those ages understood that 
 place in the gospel, whereby not the pilfering of a be- 
 nevolence was considered as the main and only breach 
 of wedlock, as is now thought, but the breach of love 
 
 and peace, a more holy union than that of the flesh ; 
 and the dignity of an honest pei-son was regarded not 
 to be held in bondage with one whose ignominy was 
 infectious. To this purpose was constituted Cod. 
 1. 5, tit. 17, and Authent. collat. 4, tit. i. Novell. 22, 
 where Justinian added three causes more. In the 117 
 Novell, most of the same causes are allowed, but the 
 liberty of divorcing by consent is repealed : but by 
 whom ? by Justinian, not a wiser, not a more religious 
 emperor than either of the former, but noted by judi- 
 cious writers for his fickle head in making and unmak- 
 ing laws; and how Procopius, a good historian, and a 
 counsellor of state then living, deciphers him in his 
 other actions, I willingly omit. Nor was the church 
 then in better case, but had the corruption of a hundred 
 declininar years swept on it, when the statute of " Con- 
 sent " was called in ; which, as I said, gives us every 
 way more reason to suspect this restraint, more than 
 that liberty : which therefore in the reign of Justin, 
 the succeeding emperor, was recalled, Novell. 140, and 
 established with a preface more wise and christianly 
 than for those times, declaring the necessity to restore 
 that Theodosian law, if no other means of reconcile- 
 ment could be found. And by whom this law was ab- 
 rogated, or how long after, I do not find ; but that those 
 other causes remained in force as long as the Greek 
 empire subsisted, and were assented to by that church, 
 is to be read in the canons and edicts compared by 
 Photius the patriarch, with the averliments of Balsa- 
 mon and Matthseus Monachus thereon. 
 
 But long before those days, Leo, the son of Bastlius 
 Macedo, reigning about the year 886, and for his ex- 
 cellent wisdom sumamed the "Philosopher," consti- 
 tuted, " that in case of madness, the husband might 
 divorce after three years, the wife after five." Constit. 
 Ivcon. Ill, 112. This declares how he expounded our 
 Saviour, and derived his reasons from the institution, 
 which in his preface with great eloquence are set down ; 
 whereof a passage or two may give some proof, though 
 better not divided from the rest. " There is not," saith 
 he, " a thing more necessary to preserve mankind, than 
 the help given him from his own rib; both God and 
 nature so teaching us : which doing so, it was requi- 
 site that the providence of law, or if any other care 
 be to the good of man, should teach and ordain those 
 things which are to the help and comfort of married 
 persons, and confirm the end of marriage purposed 
 in the beginning, not those things which afflict and 
 bring perpetual misery to them." Then answers the 
 objection, that they are one flesh ; " If matrimony 
 bad held so as God ordained it, he were wicked 
 that would dissolve it. But if we respect this in ma- 
 trimony, that it be contracted to the good of both, 
 how shall he, who for some great evil feared, persuades 
 not to marry though contracted, not persuade to un- 
 marry, if after mairiage a calamity befall ? Should we 
 bid beware lest any fall into an evil, and leave him 
 helpless who by human errour is fallen therein ? This 
 were as if we should use remedies to prevent a disease, 
 but let the sick die without remedy." The rest will be 
 worth reading in the author. 
 
216 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PLACES IN SCRIPTURE 
 
 And thus we have the judgment first of primitive fa- 
 thers; next of the imperial law not disallowed by the 
 universal church in ages of her best authority; and 
 lastly, of the whole Greek church and civil state, in- 
 corporating their canons and edicts together, that di- 
 vorce was lawful for other causes equivalent to adultery, 
 contained under the word fornication. So that the ex- 
 position of our Saviour's sentence here alleged hath all 
 these ancient and great asserters ; is therefore neither 
 new nor licentious, as some would persuade the com- 
 monalty; although it be nearer truth that nothing is 
 more new than those teachers themselves, and nothing 
 more licentious than some known to be, whose hypo- 
 crisy 3'et shames not to take offence at this doctrine 
 for licence ; wbenas indeed they fear it would remove 
 licence, and leave them but few companions. 
 
 That the papers canon law, encroaching upon civil ma- 
 gistracy, abolished all divorce even for adultery. 
 What the reformed divines have recovered ; and that 
 the famousest of them have tanght according to the 
 assertion of this book. 
 
 But in these western parts of the empire, it will ap- 
 pear almost unquestionable, that the cited law of Theo- 
 dosius and Valentinian stood in force until the blindest 
 and corruptest times of popedom displaced it. For, that 
 the volumes of Justinian never came into Italy, or be- 
 yond Illyricum, is the opinion of good antiquaries. 
 And that only manuscript thereof found in Apulia, by 
 Lotharius the Saxon, and given to the states of Pisa, 
 for their aid at sea against the Normans of Sicily, was 
 received as a rarity not to be matched. And although 
 the Goths, and after them the Lombards and Franks, 
 who overrun the most of Europe, except this island, 
 (unless we make our Saxons and Normans a limb of 
 them,) brought in their own customs, yet that they fol- 
 lowed the Roman laws in their contracts in marriages, 
 Agathias the historian is alleged. And other testimo- 
 nies relate, that Alaricus and Theodoric, their kings, 
 writ their statutes out of this Theodosian code, which 
 hath the recited law of divorce. Nevertheless, while 
 the monarchs of Christendom were yet barbarous, and 
 but half-christian, the popes took this advantage of 
 their weak superstition, to raise a corpulent law out of 
 the canons and decretals of audacious priests ; and pre- 
 sumed also to set this in the front : " That the consti- 
 tutions of princes are not above the constitutions of 
 clergy, but beneath them." Using this very instance 
 of divorce, as the first prop of their tyranny ; by a false 
 consequence drawn from a passage of Ambrose upon 
 Luke, where he saith, though " man's law grant it, 
 yet God's law prohibits it : " whence Gregory the pope, 
 writing to Theoctista, infers that ecclesiastical courts 
 cannot be dissolved by the magistrate. A fair conclu- 
 sion from a double errour. First, in saying that the 
 divine law prohibited divorce : (for what will he make 
 of Moses i*) next, supposing that it did, how will it 
 follow, that whatever Christ forbids in his evangelic 
 precepts, should be haled into a judicial constraint 
 against the pattern of a divine law ? Certainly the 
 gospel came not to enact such compulsions. In the 
 
 mean while we may note here, that the restraint of di- 
 vorce was one of the first fair seeming pleas which the 
 pope had, to step into secular authority, and with his 
 antichristian rigour to abolish the permissive law of 
 christian princes conforming to a sacred lawgiver. 
 Which if we consider, this papal and unjust restriction 
 of divorce need not be so dear to us, since the plau- 
 sible restraining of that was in a manner the first loos- 
 ening of Antichrist, and, as it were, the substance of 
 his eldest horn. Nor do we less remarkably owe the 
 first means of his fall here in England, to the contemn- 
 ing of that restraint by Henry the VIII, whose divorce 
 he opposed. Yet was not that rigour executed an- 
 ciently in spiritual courts, until Alexander the Illd, 
 who trod upon the neck of Frederic Barbarossa the em- 
 peror, and summoned our Henry lid into Normandy, 
 about the death of Becket. He it was, that the worthy 
 author may be known, who first actually repealed the 
 imperial law of divorce, and decreed this tyrannous de- 
 cree, that matrimony for no cause should be dissolved, 
 though for many causes it might separate ; as may be 
 seen Decret. Gregor. 1. 4, tit. 19, and in other places 
 of the canonical tomes. The main good of which in- 
 vention, wherein it consists, who can tell ? but that it 
 hath one virtue incomparable, to fill all Christendom 
 with whoredoms and adulteries, beyond the art of Ba- 
 laams, or of devils. Yet neither can these, thoug'h so 
 perverse, but acknowledge that the words of Christ, 
 under the name of fornication, allow putting away for 
 other causes than adultery, both from " bed and board," 
 but not from the " bond ; " their only reason is, be- 
 cause marriage they believe to be a " sacrament." But 
 our divines, who would seem long since to have re- 
 nounced that reason, have so forgot themselves, as yet 
 to hold the absurdity, which but for that reason, unless 
 there be some mystery of Satan in it, periiaps the pa- 
 pist would not hold. It is true, we grant divorce for 
 actual and proved adultery, and not for less than many 
 tedious and unrepairable years of desertion, wherein a 
 man shall lose all his hope of posterity, which great 
 and holy men have bewailed, ere he can be righted ; 
 and then perhaps on the confines of his old age, when 
 all is not worth the while. But grant this were sea- 
 sonably done ; what are these two cases to many other, 
 which afflict the state of marriage as bad, and yet find 
 no redress ? What hath the soul of man deserved, if it 
 be in the way of salvation, that it should be mortgaged 
 thus, and may not redeem itself according to conscience 
 out of the hands of such ignorant and slothful teachers 
 as these, who are neither able nor mindful to give due 
 tendance to that precious cure which they rashly un- 
 dertake ; nor have in them the noble goodness, to con- 
 sider these distresses and accidents of man's life, but 
 are bent rather to fill their mouths with tithe and ob- 
 lation ? Yet if they can learn to follow, as well as they 
 can seek to be followed, I shall direct them to a fair 
 number of renowned men, worthy to be their leaders, 
 who will commend to them a doctrine in this point 
 wiser than their own ; and if they be not impatient, 
 it will be the same doctrine which this treatise hath 
 defended. 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 217 
 
 Wickliff, that Englishman honoured of God to be 
 the first preacher of a general reformation to all Eu- 
 rope, was not in this thing better taught of God, than 
 to teach among bis chiefest recoveries of truth, " that 
 divorce is lawful to the Christian for many other causes 
 equal to adultery." This book indeed, through the 
 poverty of our libraries, I am forced to cite from " Arni- 
 sseus of Halberstad on the Rite of Marriage," who cites 
 it from Corasius of Toulouse, c. 4. Cent. Sect, and he 
 from WicklifF, 1. 4. Dial. c. 21. So much the sorrier, 
 for that I never looked into an author cited by his ad- 
 versary upon this occasion, but found him more conduci- 
 ble to the question than his quotation rendered him. 
 
 Next, Luther, how great a servant of God ! in his 
 book of " Conjugal Life" quoted by Gerard out of the 
 Dutch, allows divorce for the obstinate denial of con- 
 jugal duty; and " that a man may send away a proud 
 Vashti, and marry an Esther in her stead." It seems, 
 if this example shall not be impertinent, that Luther 
 meant not only the refusal of benevolence, but a stub- 
 born denial of any main conjugal duty; or if he did 
 not, it will be evinced from what he allows. J'or out 
 of question, with men that are not barbarous, love, and 
 ])eace, and fitness, will be yielded as essential to mar- 
 riage, as corporal benevolence. " Though I give my 
 body to be burnt," saith St. Paul, " and have not cha- 
 rity, it profits me nothing." So though the body pros- 
 titute itself to whom the mind affords no other love or 
 peace, but constant malice and vexation, can this bodily 
 benevolence deserve to be called a marriage between 
 Christians and rational creatures ? 
 
 Melancthon, the third greatluminary of reformation, 
 in his book " concerning Marriage," grants divorce for 
 cruel usage, and danger of life, urging the authority 
 of that Theodosian law, which he esteems written with 
 the grave deliberation of godly men ; " and that they 
 who reject this law, and think it disagreeing from the 
 gospel, understand not the difference of law and gos- 
 pel ; that the magistrate ought not only to defend life, 
 but to succour the weak conscience; lest, broke with 
 grief and indignation, it relinquish prayer, and turn to 
 some unlawful thing." What if this heavy plight of 
 despair arise from other discontents in wedlock, which 
 may go to the soul of a good man more than the dan- 
 ger of his life, or cruel using, which a man cannot be 
 liable to ? suppose it be ingrateful usage, suppose it 
 be perpetual spite and disobedience, suppose a hatred; 
 shall not the magistrate free him from this disquiet 
 which interrupts his prayers, and disturbs the course of 
 his service to God and his country all as much, and 
 brings him such a misery, as that he more desires to 
 leave his life, than fears to lose it.? Shall not this 
 equally concern the office of civil protection, and much 
 more the charity of a true church, to remedy? 
 
 Erasmus, who for learning was the wonder of his 
 age, both in his Notes on Matthew, and on the first to 
 the Corinthians, in a large and eloquent discourse, and 
 in his answer to Phimostomus, a papist, maintains (and 
 no protestant then living contradicted him) that the 
 words of Christ comprehend many other causes of di- 
 vorce under the name of fornication. 
 
 Bucer, (whom our famous Dr. Rainoldswas wont to 
 prefer before Calvin,) in his comment on Matthew, and 
 in his second book " of the Kingdom of Christ," treats 
 of divorce at large, to the same effect as is written in 
 " the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce " lately pub- 
 lished, and the translation is extant: whom, lest I 
 should be thought to have wrested to mine own purpose, 
 take something more out of his 49th chapter, which I 
 then for brevity omitted. " It will be the duty of 
 pious princes, and all who govern church or common- 
 wealth, if any, whether husband or wife, shall affirm 
 their want of such, who either will or can tolerably 
 perform the necessary duties of married life, to grant 
 that they may seek them such, and marry them ; if 
 they make it appear that such they have not." This 
 book he wrote here in England, where he lived the 
 greatest admired man ; and this he dedicated to Ed- 
 ward the Vlth. 
 
 Fagius, ranked among the famous divines of Ger- 
 many, whom Frederic, at that time the Palatine, sent 
 for to be the reformer of his dominion, and whom after- 
 wards England sought to, and obtained of him to come 
 and teach her, differs not in this opinion from Bucer, as 
 his notes on the Chaldee Paraphrast well testify. 
 
 The whole church of Strasburgh in her most flou- 
 rishing time, when Zellius, Hedio, Capito, and other 
 great divines, taught there, and those two renowned 
 magistrates, Farrerus and Sturmius, governed that com- 
 monwealth and academy to the admiration of all Ger- 
 many, hath thus in the 21st article : " We teach, that 
 if according to the word of God, yea, or against it, di- 
 vorces happen, to do according to God's word, Deut. 
 xxiv. \. Matt. xix. I Cor. vii. and the observation of 
 the primitive church, and the christian constitution of 
 pious Ctesars." 
 
 Peter Martyr seems in word our easy adversary, but 
 is indeed for us : toward which, though it be something 
 when he saith of this opinion, " that it is not wicked, 
 and can hardly be refuted," this which follows is much 
 more ; " I speak not here," saith he, " of natural im- 
 pediments, which may so happen, that the matrimony 
 can no longer hold :" but adding, that he often won- 
 dered " how the ancient and most christian emperors 
 established those laws of divorce, and neither Ambrose, 
 who had such influence upon the laws of Theodosius, 
 nor any of those holy fathers found fault, nor any of 
 the churches, why the magistrates of this day should 
 be so loth to constitute the same. Perhaps they fear 
 an inundation of divorces, which is not likely; when- 
 as we read not either among the Hebrews, Greeks, or 
 Romans, that they were much frequent where they 
 were most permitted. If they judge christian men 
 worse than Jews or pagans, they both injure that 
 name, and by this reason will be constrained to grant 
 divorces the rather; because it was permitted as a 
 remedy of evil, for who would remove the medicine, 
 while the disease is yet so rife ?" This being read both 
 in " his Commonplaces," and on the first to the Corinthi- 
 ans, with what we shall relate more of him yet ere the 
 end, sets him absolutely on this side. Not to insist that 
 in both these, and other places of his commentaries, he 
 
218 
 
 EXPOSITIONS ON THE FOUR CHIEF PL.\CES IN SCRIPTURE, 
 
 grants divorce not only for desertion, but for the se- 
 duccDient and scandalous demeanour of an heretical 
 consort. 
 
 Musculus, a divine of no obscure fame, disting'uishes 
 between the religious and the civil determination of 
 divorce ; and leaving the civil whollj to the lawyers, 
 pronounces a conscionable divorce for impotence not 
 only natural, but accidental, if it be durable. His equity 
 it seems, can enlarge the words of Christ to one cause 
 more than adultery ; why may not the reason of another 
 man as wise enlarge them to another cause .-' 
 
 Gualter of Zuric, a well-known judicious commen- 
 tator, in his homilies on Matthew, allows divorce for 
 " leprosy, or any other cause which renders unfit for 
 wedlock," and calls this rather " a nullity of marriage 
 than a divorce." And who, that is not himself a mere 
 body, can restrain all the unfitness of marriage only to 
 a corporeal defect ? 
 
 Hemingius, an author highly esteemed, and his works 
 printed at Geneva, writing of divorce, confesses that 
 learned men " vary in this question, some granting 
 three causes thereof, some five, others many more ;" 
 he himself gives us six, " adultery, desertion, inability, 
 errour, evil usage, and impiety," using argument" that 
 Christ under one special contains the whole kind, and 
 under the name and example of fornication, he includes 
 other causes equipollent." This discourse he wrote at 
 the request of many who had the j udging of these causes 
 in Denmark and Norway, who by all likelihood fol- 
 lowed his advice. 
 
 Hunnius, a doctor of Wittenberg, well known both 
 in divinity and other arts, on the 19th of Matt, affirms, 
 " That the exception of fornication expressed by our 
 Saviour, excludes not other causes equalling adultery, 
 I or destructive to the substantial of matrimony ; but 
 was opposed to the custom of the Jews, who made di- 
 vorce for every light cause." 
 
 Felix Bidenbacbius, an eminent divine in the duchy 
 of Wirtemberg, affirms, " That the obstinate refusal of 
 conjugal due is a lawful cause of divorce ;" and gives 
 an instance, " that the consistory of that state so judg- 
 ed." 
 
 Gerard cites Harbardus, an author not unknown, and 
 Amiseeas cites Wigandus, both yielding divorce in case 
 of cruel usage ; and another author, who testifies to 
 " have seen, in a dukedom of Germany, marriages dis- 
 jointed for some implacable enmities arising." 
 
 Beza, one of the strictest against divorce, denies it 
 not " for danger of life from a heretic, or importunate 
 solicitation to do aught against religion :" and counts 
 it " all one whether the heretic desert, or would stay 
 upon intolerable conditions." But this decision, well 
 examined, will be found of no solidity. For Beza would 
 be asked why, if God so strictly exact our stay in any 
 kind of wedlock, we had not better stay and hazard a 
 murdering for religion at the hand of a wife or husband 
 as he and others enjoin us to stay and venture it for 
 all other causes but that ? and why a man's life is not 
 as well and warrantably saved by divorcing from an 
 orthodox murderer, as an heretical ? Again, if desertion 
 be confessed by him to consist not only in the forsak- 
 
 ing, but in the unsuflTerable conditions of staying, a 
 man may as well deduce the lawfulness of divorcing 
 from any intolerable conditions, (if his grant be good, 
 that we may divorce thereupon from a heretic,) as he 
 can deduce it lawful to divorce from any deserter, by 
 finding it lawful to divorce from a deserting infidel. 
 For this is plain, if St. Paul's permission to divorce an 
 infidel deserter infer it lawful for any malicious deser- 
 tion, then doth Beza's definition of a deserter transfer 
 itself with like facility from the cause of religion, to 
 the cause of malice, and proves it as good to divorce 
 from him who intolerably stays, as from him who pur- 
 posely departs ; and leaves it as lawful to depart from 
 him who urgently requires a wicked thing, though 
 professing the same religion, as from him who urges a 
 heathenish or superstitious compliance in a different 
 faith. For if there be such necessity of our abiding, 
 we ought rather to abide the utmost for religion, than 
 for any other cause ; seeing both the cause of our stay 
 is pretended our religion to marriage, and tlie cause of 
 our sufl^ering is supposed our constant marriage to re- 
 ligion. Beza therefore, by his own definition of a de- 
 serter, justifies a divorce from any wicked or intolerable 
 conditions rather in the same religion than in a different. 
 
 Aretius, a famous divine of Bern, approves many 
 causes of divorce in his " Problems," and adds, " that 
 the laws and consistories of Switzerland approve them 
 also." As first, " adultery, and that not actual only, 
 but intentional ;" alleging Matthew v. " Whosoever 
 looketh to lust, hath committed adultery already in his 
 heart. Whereby," saith he, " our Saviour shews, that 
 the breach of matrimony may be not only by outward 
 act, but by the heart and desire ; when tliat hath once 
 possessed, it renders the conversation intolerable, and 
 commonly the fact follows." Other causes to the num- 
 ber of nine or ten, consenting in most with the imperial 
 laws, may be read in the author himself, who avers 
 them " to be grave and weighty." All these are men 
 of name in divinity; and to these, if need were, might 
 be added more. Nor have the civilians been all so 
 blinded by the canon, as not to avouch the justice of 
 those old permissions touching divorce. 
 
 Alciat of Milain, a man of extraordinary wisdom and 
 learning, in the sixth book of his " Parerga," defends 
 those imperial laws, " not repugnant to the gospel," as 
 the church then interpreted. " For," saith he, " the 
 ancients understood him separate by man, whom pas- 
 sions and corrupt affections divorced, not if the pro- 
 vincial bishops first heard the matter, and judged, as 
 the council of Agatha declares :" and on some part of 
 the Code he names Isidorus Hispalensis, the first com- 
 puter of canons, " to be in the same mind." And in 
 the former place gives his opinion, " that divorce might 
 be more lawfully permitted than usury." 
 
 Corasius, recorded by Helvicus among the famous 
 lawyers, hath been already cited of the same judgment. 
 
 Wesembechius, a much-named civilian, in his com- 
 ment on this law defends it, and affirms, " That our 
 Saviour excluded not other faults equal to adultery; 
 and that the word fornication signifies larger among 
 the Hebrews than with us, comprehending every fault, 
 
WHICH TREAT OF NULLITIES IN MARRIAGE. 
 
 219 
 
 which alienates from him to whom obedience is due, 
 ^d that the primitive church interpreted so." 
 
 Grotius, yet living-, and of prime note among learned 
 men, retires plainly from the canon to the ancient ci- 
 vility, yea, to the Mosaic law, " as being most just and 
 undeceivable." On the 5th of Matth. he saith, " That 
 Christ made no civil laws, but taught us how to use 
 law : that the law sent not a husband to the judge 
 about this matter of divorce, but left him to his own 
 conscience ; that Christ therefore cannot be thought to 
 send him; that adultery may be judged by a vehe- 
 ment suspicion ; that the exception of adultery seems 
 an example of other like offences ;" proves it " from 
 the manner of speech, the maxims of law, the reason 
 of charity, and common equity." 
 
 These authorities, without long search, I had to pro- 
 duce, all excellent men, some of them such as many 
 ages had brought forth none greater : almost the mean- 
 est of them might deserve to obtain credit in a singu- 
 larity ; what might not then all of them joined in an 
 opinion so consonant to reason .' For although some 
 speak of this cause, others of that, why divorce may 
 be, yet all agreeing in the necessary enlargement of 
 that textual straitness, leave the matter to equity, not 
 to literal bondage ; and so the opinion closes. Nor 
 could I have wanted more testimonies, had the cause 
 needed a more solicitous inquiry. But herein the satis- 
 faction of others hath been studied, not the gaining of 
 more assurance to mine own persuasion : although au- 
 thorities contributing reason withal be a good confirm- 
 ation and a welcome. But God (I solemnly attest 
 him !) withheld from my knowledge the consenting 
 judgment of these men so late, until they could not be 
 my instructors, but only my unexpected witnesses to 
 partial men, that in this work I had not given the worst 
 experiment of an industry joined with integrity, and 
 the free utterance, though of an unpopular truth. 
 Which yet to the people of England may, if God so 
 please, prove a memorable informing ; certainly a bt-ne- 
 fit which was intended them long since by men of 
 highest repute for wisdom and piety, Bucer and Eras- 
 mus. Only this one authority more, whether in place 
 or out of place, I am not to omit ; which if any can 
 think a small one, I must be patient, it is no smaller 
 than the whole assembled authority of England both 
 church and state; and in those times which are on re- 
 cord for the purest and sincerest that ever shone yet on 
 the reformation of this island, the time of Edward the 
 Sixth. That worthy prince, having utterly abolished 
 the canon law out of his dominions, as his father did 
 before him, appointed by full vote of parliament a com- 
 
 mittee of two and thirty chosen men, divines and law- 
 yers, of whom Cranmer the archbishop, Peter Martyr, 
 and Walter Haddon, (not without the assistance of Sir 
 John Cheeke the king's tutor, a man at that time 
 counted the learnedest of Englishmen, and for piety 
 not inferior,) were the chief, to frame anew some ec- 
 clesiastical laws, that might be instead of what was 
 abrogated. The work with great diligence was finish- 
 ed, and with as great approbation of that reforming 
 age was received ; and had been doubtless, as the 
 learned preface thereof testifies, established by act of 
 parliament, had not the good king's death, so soon en- 
 suing, arrested the further growth of religion also, from 
 that season to this. Those laws, thus founded on the 
 memorable wisdom and piety of that religious parlia- 
 ment and synod, allow divorce and second marriage, 
 " not only for adultery or desertion, but for any capital 
 enmity or plot laid against the other's life, and like- 
 wise for evil and fierce usage :" nay the twelfth chap- 
 ter of that title by plain consequence declares, " that 
 lesser contentions, if they be perpetual, may obtain di- 
 vorce:" which is all one really with the position by 
 me held in the former treatise published on this argu- 
 ment, herein only differing, that there the cause of 
 perpetual strife was put for example in the unchange- 
 able discord of some natures; but in these laws in- 
 tended us Dy the best of our ancestors, the effect of 
 continual strife is determined no unjust plea of divorce, 
 whether the cause be natural or wilful. Whereby the 
 wariness and deliberation, from which that discourse 
 proceeded, will appear, and that God hath aided us to 
 make no bad conclusion of this point; seeing the 
 opinion, which of late hath undergone ill censures 
 among the vulgar, hath now proved to have done no 
 violence to Scripture, unless all these famous authors 
 alleged have done the like ; nor hath affirmed aught 
 more than what indeed the most nominated fathers of 
 the church, both ancient and modem, are unexpect- 
 edly found affirming; the laws of God's peculiar peo- 
 ple, and of primitive Christendom found to have prac- 
 tised, reformed churches and states to have imitated, 
 and especially the most pious church-times of this 
 kingdom to have framed and published, and, but for 
 sad hinderances in the sudden change of religion, had 
 enacted by the parliament. Henceforth let them, who 
 condemn the assertion of this book for new and licen- 
 tious, be sorry; lest, while they think to be of the 
 graver sort, and take on them to be teachers, they ex- 
 pose themselves rather to be pledged up and down by 
 men who intimately know them, to the discovery and 
 contempt of their ignorance and presumption. 
 
COLASTERION: 
 
 A REPLY TO A N.VAIELESS ANSWER AGAINST THE DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE 
 
 OF DIVORCE. 
 
 WHBBBIN TUB TRIVIAL AUTHOR OF THAT ANSWER IS DISCOVKRED, THE LICBKSBB CONFERRED WITH, AXO THB OPIXIO.t, 
 
 WHICH THEY TRADUCE, DEFE.fDBD. 
 
 Piov. xxvi. 5. " Answer a fuui accurdiog to hij fully, lest he be wise in his own conceit." 
 
 [riRKT ri'BMsiisi) 164j.] 
 
 After many rumours of confutations and convictions, 
 forthcoming against the Doctrine and Discipline of 
 Divorce, and now and then a by-blow from the jxilpit, 
 feathered with a censure strict indeed, but how true, 
 more beholden to the authority of that devout place, 
 which it borrowed to be uttered in, than to any sound 
 reason which it could oracle ; while I still hoped as for 
 a blessing to see some piece of diligence, or learned 
 discretion, come from them, it was ray hap at length, 
 lighting on a certain parcel of queries, that seek and 
 find not, to find not seeking, at the tail of anabaptistical, 
 antinomian, heretical, atheistical epithets, a jolly slan- 
 der, called " Divorce at Pleasure." I stood a» bile and 
 wondered, what we might do to a man's heart, or what 
 anatomy use, to find in it sincerity ; for all our wonted 
 marks every day fail us, and where we thought it was, 
 we see it is not, for alter and change residence it can- 
 not sure. And yet I see no good of body or of mind 
 secure to a man for all his past labours, without per- 
 petual watchfulness and perseverance : whenas one 
 above others, who hath suffered much and long in the 
 defence of truth, shall after all this give her cause to 
 leave him so destitute and so vacant of her defence, as 
 to yield his mouth to be the common road of truth and 
 falsehood, and such falsehood as is joined with a rash 
 and heedless calumny of his neighbour. For what book 
 hath he ever met with, as his complaint is, " printed 
 in the city," maintaining either in the title, or in the 
 whole pursuance, " Divorce at Pleasure ?" It is true, 
 that to divorce upon extreme necessity, when through 
 the perverseness, or the apparent unfitness of either, 
 the continuance can be to both no good at all, but an 
 intolerable injury and temptation to the wronged and 
 the defrauded ; to divorce then, there is a book that 
 writes it lawful. And that this law is a pure and 
 wholesome national law, not to be withheld from good 
 men, because others likely enough may abuse it to their 
 pleasure, cannot be charged upon that book, but must 
 
 be entered a bold and impious accusation against God 
 himself; who did not for this abuse withhold it from 
 his own people. It will be just therefore, and best for 
 the reputation of him who in his Subitanes hath thus 
 censured, to recall his sentence. And if, out of the 
 abundance of his volumes, and the readiness of his 
 quill, and the vastness of his other employments, espe- 
 cially in the great audit for accounts, he can spare us 
 aught to the better understanding of this point, he shall 
 be thanked in public ; and what hath offended in the 
 book shall willingly submit to his correction. Provided 
 he be sure not to come with those old and stale suppo- 
 sitions, unless he can take away clearly what that dis- 
 course hath urged against them, by one who will expect 
 other arguments to be persuaded tlie good health of a 
 sound answer, than the gout and dropsy of a big mar- 
 gin, littered and overlaid with crude and huddled quo- 
 tations. But as I still was waiting, when these light- 
 armed refuters would have done pelting at their three 
 lines uttered with a sage delivery of no reason, but an 
 impotent and worse than Bonnerlike censure, to burn 
 that which provokes them to a fair dispute ; at length 
 a book was brought to my hands, intitled " An Answer 
 to the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce." Gladly I 
 received it, and very attentively composed myself to 
 read ; hoping that now some good man had vouchsafed 
 the pains to instruct me better, than I could yet learn 
 out of all the volumes, which for this purpose I had 
 visited. Only this I marvelled, and other men have 
 since, whenas I, in a subject so new to this age, and so 
 hazardous to please, concealed not my name, why this 
 author, defending that part which is so creeded by the 
 people, would conceal his. But ere I could enter three 
 leaves into the pamphlet, (for I defer the peasantly 
 rudeness, which by the licenser's leave I met with after- 
 wards,) my satisfaction came in abundantly, that it 
 could be nothing whj' he durst not name himself, but 
 the guilt of his own wretchedness. For first, not to 
 
A REPLY TO AN ANSWER AGAINST THE DOCTRINE, &c. 
 
 221 
 
 speak of liis abrupt and bald beginning, his very first 
 page notoriously bewrays him an illiterate and arro- 
 gant presumer in that which he understands not, bear- 
 ing us in hand as if he knew both Greek and Hebrew, 
 and is not able to spell it ; which had he been, it had 
 been either written as it ought, or scored upon the 
 printer. If it be excused as the carelessness of his 
 deputy, be it known, the learned author himself is in- 
 ventoried, and summoned up to the utmost value of his 
 livery -cloak. Whoever he be, though this to some may 
 seem a slight contest, I shall yet continue to think that 
 man full of other secret injustice, and deceitful pride, 
 who shall offer in public to assume the skill though it 
 be but of a tongue which he hath not, and would catch 
 his readers to believe of his ability, that which is not 
 in him. The licenser indeed, as his authority now 
 stands, may license much ; but if these Greek orthogra- 
 phies were of his licensing, the boys at school might 
 reckon with him at his grammar. Nor did I find this 
 his want of the pretended languages alone, but accom- 
 panied with such a low and homespun expression of 
 his mother English all along, without joint or frame, 
 as made me, ere I knew further of him, often stop and 
 conclude, that this author could for certain be no other 
 than some mechanic. Nor was the style flat and rude, 
 and the matter grave and solid, for then there had been 
 pardon ; but so shallow and so unwary was that also, 
 as gave sufficiently the character of a gross and slug- 
 gish, yet a contentious and overweening, pretender. 
 For first, it behoving him to shew, as he promises, 
 what divorce is, and what the true doctrine and disci- 
 pline thereof, and this being to do by such principles 
 and proofs as are received on both sides, he performs 
 neither of these; but shews it first from the judaical 
 practice, which he himself disallows, and next from 
 the practice of canon law, which the book he would 
 confute utterly rejects, and all laws depending thereon ; 
 which this puny clerk calls " the Laws of England," 
 and yet pronounceth them by an ecclesiastical judge : 
 as if that were to be accounted the law of England 
 which dependeth on the popery of England ; or if it 
 were, this piirliament he might know hath now damned 
 that judicature. So that whether his meaning were to 
 inform his own party, or to confute his adversary, in- 
 stead of shewing us the true doctrine and discipline 
 of divorce, he shews us nothing but his own con- 
 temptible ignorance. For what is the Mosaic law to 
 his opinion ? And what is the canon, now utterly an- 
 tiquated, either to that, or to mine? Ye see already 
 what a faithful definer we have him. From such a 
 wind-egg of definition as this, they who expect any of 
 his other arguments to be well hatched, let them enjoy 
 the virtue of their worthy champion. But one thing 
 more I observed, a singular note of his stupidity, and 
 that his trade is not to meddle with books, much less 
 with confutations ; whenas tl)c " Doctrine of Divorce" 
 had now a whole year been published the second time, 
 with many arguments added, and the former ones bet- 
 tered and confirmed, this idle pamphlet comes reeling 
 forth agaiust the first edition only ; as may appear to 
 any by the pages quoted : which put me in mind of 
 
 what by chance I had notice of to this purpose the last 
 summer, as nothing so serious but happens ofttimes to 
 be attended with a ridiculous accident : it was then 
 told me, that the " Doctrine of Divorce" was answered, 
 and the answer half printed against the fii-st edition, 
 not by one, but by a pack of heads ; of whom the chief, 
 by circumstance, was intimated to me, and since ratified 
 to be no other, if any can hold laughter, and I am sure 
 none will guess him lower, than an actual serving-man. 
 This creature, for the story must on, (and what though 
 he be the lowest person of an interlude, he may deserve 
 a canvassing,) transplanted himself, and to the im- 
 provement of his wages, and your better notice of his 
 capacity, turned solicitor. And having conversed much 
 with a stripling divine or two of those newly-fledged 
 probationers, that usually come scouting from the uni- 
 versity, and lie here no lame legers to pop into the Be- 
 thesda of some knight's chaplainship, where they bring 
 grace to his good cheer, but no peace or benediction 
 else to his house ; these made the cham-party, he con- 
 tributed the law, and both joined in the divinity. 
 Which made me intend following the advice also of 
 friends, to lay aside the thought of mispending a reply 
 to the buz of such a drone's nest. But finding that it 
 lay, whatever was the matter, half a year after un- 
 finished in the press, and hearing for certain that a 
 divine of note, out of his good will to the opinion, had 
 taken it into his revise, and something had put out, 
 something put in, and stuck it here and there with a 
 clove of his own calligraphy, to keep it from tainting : 
 and further, when I saw the stufl\ though very coarse 
 and threadbare, garnished and trimly faced with the 
 commendations of a licenser, I resolved, so soon as lei- 
 sure granted me the recreation, that my man of law 
 should not altogether lose his soliciting. Although I im- 
 pute a share of the making to him whose name I find in 
 the approbation, who may take, as his mind serves him, 
 this reply. In the mean while it shall be seen, I refuse 
 no occasion, and avoid no adversary, either to maintain 
 what I have begun, or to give it up for better reason. 
 To begin then with the licenser and his censure. 
 For a licenser is not contented now to give his single 
 Imprimatur, but brings his chair into the title-leaf; 
 there sits and judges up, or judges down, what book he 
 pleases: if this be suffered, what worthless author, or 
 what cunning printer, will not be ambitious of such a 
 stale to put off the heaviest gear; which may in time 
 bring in round fees to the licenser, and wretched mis- 
 leading to the people? But to the matter: he " ap- 
 proves the publishing of this book, to preserve the 
 strength and honour of marriage against those sad 
 breaches and dangerous abuses of it." Belike then the 
 wrongful suffering of all those sad breaches and abuses 
 in marriage to a remediless thraldom is the strength 
 and honour of marriage ; a boisterous and bestial 
 strength, a dishonourable honour, an infatuated doc- 
 trine, whose than the Salvo jure of tyrannizing, which 
 we all fight against. Next he saith, that " common 
 discontents make these breaches in unstaid minds, and 
 men given to change." His words may be appre- 
 hended, as if they disallowed only to divorce for coin- 
 
222 
 
 A REPLY TO AN ANSWER AGAINST THE 
 
 inon discontents, in unstaid minds, having' no cause, 
 but a desire of change, and then we agree. But if he 
 take all discontents on this side adultery, to be com- 
 mon, that is to saj', not difficult to endure, and to af- 
 fect only unstaid minds, it might administer just cause 
 to think him the unfittest man that could be, to offer at 
 a comment upon Job ;* as seeming by this to hare no 
 more true sense of a good man in his afflictions, than 
 those Edomitish friends had, of whom Job complains, 
 and against whom God testifies his anger. Shall a 
 man of your own coat, who hath espoused his flock, 
 and represents Christ more in being the true husband 
 of his congregation, than an ordinary man doth in be- 
 ing the husband of his wife, (and yet this represent- 
 ment is thought a chief cause why marriage must be 
 inseparable,) shall this spiritual man ordinarily fur the 
 increase of his maintenances or any slight cause, for- 
 sake that wedded cure of souls, that should be dearest 
 to him, and marry another and another .'' And shall 
 not a person wrongfully afflicted, and persecuted even 
 to extremity, forsake an unfit, injurious, and pestilent 
 mate, tied only by a civil and fleshly covenant.'' If 
 you be a man so much hating change, hate that other 
 change ; if yourself be not guilty, counsel your bre- 
 thren to hate it ; and leave to be the supercilious judge 
 of other men's miseries and changes, that your own be 
 not judged. " The reasons of your licensed pam- 
 phlet," you say, " are good ;"they must be better than 
 your own then ; I shall wonder else how such a trivial 
 fellow was accepted and commended, to be the con- 
 futer of so dangerous an opinion as ye give out mine. 
 Now therefore to j'our attorney, since no worthier an 
 adversary makes his appearance, nor this neither his 
 appearance, but lurking under the safety of his name- 
 less obscurity ; such as ye turn him forth at the pos- 
 tern, I must accept him ; and in a better temper than 
 Ajax do mean to scourge this ram for ye, till I meet 
 with his Ulysses. 
 
 He begins with law, and we have it of him as good 
 cheap as any huckster at law, newly set up, can possi- 
 bly afford, and as impertinent ; but for that he hath re- 
 ceived his handsel. He presumes also to cite the civil 
 law, which I perceive, by his citing, never came within 
 his dormitory : yet what he cites, makes but against 
 himself. 
 
 His second thing therefore is to refute the adverse 
 position, and very methodically, three pages before he 
 sets it down ; and sets his own in the place, " that dis- 
 agreement of mind or disposition, though shewing it- 
 self in much sharpness, is not by the law of God or 
 man a just cause of divorce." 
 
 To this position I answer; That it lays no battery 
 against mine, no nor so much as faces it, but tacks 
 about, long ere it come near, like a harmless and re- 
 spectful confutement. For I confess that disagreement 
 of mind or disposition, though in much sharpness, is 
 not always a just cause of divorce; for much may be 
 endured. But what if the sharpness be much more 
 than his much ? To that point it is our mishap we 
 have not here his grave decision. He that will contra- 
 • Mr. Cftiyt. 
 
 diet the position which I alleged, must Jiold that no 
 disagreement of mind or disposition can divorce, though 
 shewn in most shar])ness ; otherwise he leaves a place 
 for equity to appoint limits, and so his following argu- 
 ments will either not prove his own position, or not 
 disprove mine. 
 
 His first argument, all but what hobbles to no pur- 
 pose, is this ; " Where the Scripture commands a thing 
 to be done, it appoints when, how, and for what, as in 
 the case of death, or excommunication. But the Scrip- 
 ture directs not what measure of disagreement or con- 
 trariety may divorce: therefore the Scripture al]o>\s 
 not any divorce for disagreement." — Answer. First, 
 I deny 3'our major; the Scripture appoints many 
 things, and yet leaves the circumstance to man's dis- 
 cretion, particularly in your own examples: excom- 
 munication is not taught when and for what to be, but 
 left to the church. How could the licenser let pass this 
 childish ignorance, and call it " good .'"' Next, in 
 matters of death, the laws of England, whereof you 
 have intruded to be an opiniastrous subadvocate, and 
 are bound to defend them, conceive it not enjoined in 
 Scripture, when or for what cause they shall put to 
 death, as in adultery, theft, and the like. Your minor 
 also is false, for the Scripture plainly sets down for what 
 measure of disagreement a man may divorce, Deut. 
 xxiv. 1. Learn better what that phrase means, " if she 
 find no favour in his eyes." 
 
 Your second argument, without more tedious fum- 
 bling, is briefly thus: " If diversity in religion, which 
 breeds a greater dislike than any natural disagree- 
 ment, may not cause a divorce, then may not the lesser 
 disagreement: But diversity of religion may not; 
 Ergo." 
 
 Answ. First, I deny in the major, that diversity of 
 religion breeds a greater dislike to marriage-duties than 
 natural disagreement. For between Israelite, or 
 Christian, and infidel, more often hath been seen too 
 much love : but between them who perpetually clash 
 ill natural contrarieties, it is repugnant that there 
 should be ever any married love or concord. Next, I 
 deny your minor, that it is commanded not to divorce 
 in diversity of religion, if the infidel will stay : for that 
 place in St. Paul commands nothing, as that book at 
 large affirmed, though you overskipped it. 
 
 Secondly, If it do command, it is but with condition 
 that the infidel be content, and well-pleased to stay, 
 which cuts off the supposal of any great hatred or dis- 
 quiet between them, seeing the infidel had liberty to 
 depart at pleasure ; and so this comparison avails no- 
 thing. 
 
 Your third argument is from Deut. xxii. " If a 
 man hate his wife, and raise an ill report, that he found 
 her no virgin ;" if this were false, " he might not put 
 her away," though hated never so much. 
 
 Ans. This was a malicious hatred, bent against her 
 life, or to send her out of doors without her portion. 
 Such a hater loses by due punishment that privilege, 
 Deut. xxiv. 1, to divorce for a natural dislike; which, 
 though it could not love conjugally, yet sent away 
 
DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 223 
 
 civilly, and with just conditions. But doubtless the 
 wife in that former case had liberty to depart from her 
 false accuser, lest his hatred should prove mortal ; else 
 that law peculiarly made to right the woman, had turn- 
 ed to her greatest mischief. 
 
 Your fourth argument is ; *' One Christian ought to 
 bear the infirmities of another, but chiefly of his wife." 
 
 Ans. I grant infirmities, but not outrages, not per- 
 petual defraudments of truest conjugal society, not in- 
 juries and vexations as importunate as fire. Yet to en- 
 dure very much, might do well an exhortation, but not 
 a compulsive law. For the Spirit of God himself, by 
 Solomoti, declares that such a consort " the earth can- 
 not bear, and better dwell in a corner of the house-top, 
 <»r in the wilderness." Burdens may be borne, but still 
 with consideration to the strength of an honest man 
 complaining. Charity indeed bids us forgive our ene- 
 mies, yet doth not force us to continue friendship and 
 familiarity with those friends who have been false or 
 unworthy towards us ; but is contented in our peace 
 with them, at a fair distance. Charity commands not 
 the husband to receive again into his bosom the adul- 
 terous wife, but thinks it enough, if he dismiss her 
 with a beneficent and peaceful dismission. No more 
 doth charity command, nor can her rule compel, to re- 
 tain in nearest union of wedlock one whose other gross- 
 est faults, or disabilities to perform what was cove- 
 nanted, are the just causes of as much grievance and 
 dissension in a family, as the private act of adultery. 
 Let not therefore, under the name of fulfilling charity, 
 such an unmerciful and more than legal yoke be pad- 
 locked upon the neck of any Christian. 
 
 Your fifth argument : " If the husband ought to love 
 his wife, as Christ his church, then ought she not to be 
 put away for contrariety of mind." 
 
 Answ. This similitude turns against him: for if the 
 husband must be as Christ to the wife, then must the 
 wife be as the church to her husband. If there be a 
 perpetual contrariety of mind in the church toward 
 Christ, Christ himself threatens to divorce such a 
 spouse, and liath often done it. If they urge, this was 
 no true church, I urge again that was no true wife. 
 
 His sixth argument is from Mattb. v. 32, which he 
 expounds after the old fashion, and never takes notice 
 of what I brought against that exposition ; let him 
 therefore seek his answer there. Yet can he not leave 
 this argument, but he must needs first shew us a curvet 
 of his madness, holding out an objection, and running 
 himself upon the point. " For," saith he, " if Christ 
 except no cause but adultery, then all other causes, as 
 frigidity, incestuous marriage, <^c. are no cause of di- 
 vorce;" and answers, " that the speech of Christ holds 
 universally, as he intended it ; namely, to condemn 
 such divorce as was groundlessly practised among the 
 Jews, for every cause which they thought sufficient; 
 not checking the law of consanguinities or affinities, 
 or forbidding other cause which makes marriage void, 
 ipso facto." 
 
 Answ. Look to it now, you be not found taking fees 
 on both sides ; for if you once bring limitations to the 
 
 * First Edition. 
 
 universal words of Christ, another will do as much 
 with as good authority; and affirm, that neither did he 
 check the Jaw, Deut. xxiv. 1, nor forbid the causes that 
 make marriage void actually ; which if any thing in 
 the world doth, unfitness doth, and contrariety of mind ; 
 yea, more than adultery, for that makes not the mar- 
 riage void, nor much more unfit, but for the time, if the 
 oflTended party forgive: but unfitness and contrariety 
 frustrates and nullifies for ever, unless it be a rare 
 chance, all the good and peace of wedded conversation ; 
 and leaves nothing between them enjoyable, but a 
 prone and savage necessity, not worth the name of 
 marriage, unaccompanied with love. Thus much his 
 own objection hath done against himself. 
 
 Argument 7th. He insists, " that man and wife are 
 one flesh, therefore must not separate." But must be 
 sent to look again upon the* 3olh page of that book, 
 where he might read an answer, which he stirs not. 
 Yet can he not abstain, but he must do us another 
 pleasure ere he goes ; although I call the common 
 pleas to witness, I have not hired his tongue, whatever 
 men may think by his arguing. For besides adultery, 
 he excepts other causes which dissolve the union of 
 being one flesh, either directly, or by consequence. If 
 only adultery be excepted by our Saviour, and he volun- 
 tarily can add other exceptions that dissolve that union, 
 both directly and by consequence; these words of Christ, 
 the main obstacle of divorce, are open to us by his own 
 invitation, to include whatever causes dissolve that 
 union of flesh, either directly or by consequence. 
 Which, till he name other causes more likely, I affirm 
 to be done soonest by unfitness and contrariety of 
 mind ; for that induces hatred, wliich is the greatest 
 dissolver both of spiritual and corporal union, turning 
 the mind, and consequently the body, to other objects. 
 Thus our doughty adversary, either directly or by con- 
 sequence, yields us the question with his own mouth : 
 and the next thing he does, recants it again. 
 
 His 8th argument shivers in the uttering, and he 
 confesseth to be " not over-confident of it :" but of the 
 rest it may be sworn he is. St. Paul, 1 Cor, vii. saith, 
 that the " married have trouble in the flesh," therefore 
 we must bear it, though never so intolerable. 
 
 I answer, if this be a true consequence, why are not 
 all troubles to b'e borne alike ? Why are we sufl^ered 
 to divorce adulteries, deserticms, or frigidities? Who 
 knows not that trouble and affliction is the decree of 
 God upon every state of life .'* Follows it therefore, 
 that, though they grow excessive and insupportable, 
 we must not avoid them ? If we may in all other 
 conditions, and not in marriage, the doom of our suf- 
 fering ties us not by the trouble, but by the bond of 
 marriage : and that must be proved inseparable from 
 other reasons, not from this place. And his own con- 
 fession declares the weakness of this argument, yet 
 his ungoverned arrogance could not be dissuaded from 
 venting it. 
 
 His 9th argument is, " that a husband must love his 
 wife as himself; therefore he may not divorce for any 
 disagreement, no more than he may separate his soul 
 
224 
 
 A REPLY TO AN ANSWER AGAINST THE 
 
 from liis body." I answer: if he love his wife as him- 
 self, he must love her so far as he may preserve him to 
 her ill a cheerful and comfortable manner, and not so 
 as to ruin himself by anguish and sorrow, without any 
 benefit to lier. Next, if the husband must love his 
 wife as himself, she must be understood a wife in some 
 reasonable measure, willing and sufRcient to perform 
 the chief duties of her covenant, else by the hold of this 
 argument it would be his great sin to divorce either 
 for adultery or desertion. The rest of this will run 
 circuit with the union of one flesh, which was an- 
 swered before. And that to divorce a relative and 
 metaphorical union of two bodies into one flesh can- 
 not be likened in all things to the dividing of that 
 natural union of soul and body into one person, is ap- 
 parent of itself. 
 
 His last argument he fetches " from the inconveni- 
 ence that would follow upon his freedom of divorce, to 
 the corrupting of men's minds, and the overturning of 
 all human society." 
 
 But for me let God and Moses answer this blas- 
 phemer, who dares bring in such a foul indictment 
 against the divine law. Why did God permit this to 
 his people the Jews, but that the right and good, 
 which came directly thereby, was more in his esteem 
 than the wrong and evil, which came by accident? 
 And for those weak supposes of infants that would be 
 left in their mothers' belly, (which must needs be good 
 news for chamber-maids, to hear a serving-man grown 
 so provident for great bellies,) and portions and join- 
 tures likely to incur embezzlement hereby, the ancient 
 civil law instructs us plentifully how to award, which 
 our profound opposite knew not, for it was not in his 
 tenures. 
 
 His arguments are spun ; now follows the chaplain 
 with his antiquities, wiser if he had refrained, for his 
 very touching aught that is learned soils it, and lays 
 him still more and more open, a conspicuous gull. 
 There being both fathers and councils more ancient, 
 wherewith to have served his purpose better than with 
 what he cites, how may we do to know the subtle drift, 
 that moved bim to begin first with the "twelfth council 
 of Toledo?" I would not undervalue the depth of his 
 notion ; but perhaps he had heard that the men of To- 
 ledo had store of good blade-mettle, an'H were excellent 
 at cuttling; who can tell but it might be the reach of 
 his policy, that these able men of decision would do 
 best to have the prime stroke among his testimonies in 
 deciding this cause ? But all this craft avails himself 
 not; for seeing they allow no cause of divorce by for- 
 nication, what do these keen doctors here, but cut him 
 over the sinews with their toledoes, for holding in the 
 precedent page other causes of divorce besides, both 
 directly and by consequence ? As evil doth that Saxon 
 council, next quoted, bestead him. For if it allow di- 
 vorce precisely for no cause hut fornication, it thwarts 
 his own exposition : and if it understand fornication 
 largely, it sides with whom he would confute. How- 
 ever, the authority of that synod can be but small, being 
 under Theodoras, the Canterbury bishop, a Grecian 
 monk of Tarsus, revolted from bis own church to the 
 
 pope. What have we next.' the civil law stuffed in 
 between two councils, as if the Code had been sonic 
 synod ; for that he understood himself in this quotation, 
 is incredible; where the law. Cod. 1. 3, tit. 38, leg. I J, 
 speaks not of divorce, but against the dividing of pos- 
 sessions to divers heirs, whereby the married servants 
 of a great family were divided, perhaps into distant 
 countries and colonies ; father from son, wife from 
 husband, sore against their will. Somewhat lower he 
 coiifesseth, that the civil law allows many reasons of 
 divorce, but the canon law decrees otherwise ; a fair 
 credit to his cause ! And I amaze me, though the fancy 
 of this dolt be as obtuse and sad as any mallet, how the 
 licenser could sleep out all this, and sufl*er him to up- 
 hold his opinion by canons and Gregorial decretals ; 
 a law which not only his adversary, but the whole re- 
 foi-maticm of this church and state, hath brandexl and 
 rejected. As ignorantly, and too ignorantly to deceive 
 any reader but an unlearned, he talks of Justin Martyr's 
 Apology, not telling us which of the twain ; for that 
 passage in the beginning of his first, which I have 
 cited elsewhere, plainly makes against him : so doth 
 Tertullian, cited next, and next Erasmus, the one 
 against Marcion, the other in his annotations on Mat- 
 thew, and to the Corinthians. And thus ye have the 
 list of his choice antiquities, as pleasantly chosen as ye 
 would wish from a man of his handy vocation, puffed 
 up with no luck at all above the stint of his capacity. 
 
 Now he comes to the position, which I set down 
 whole; and, like an able textman, slits it into four, that 
 he may the better come at it with his barber-surgery, 
 and his sleeves turned up. Wherein first, he denies 
 " that any disposition, unfitness, or contrariety of mind, 
 is unchangeable in nature, but that by the help of diet 
 and physic it may be altered." 
 
 I mean not to dispute philosophy with this pork, who 
 never read any. But I appeal to all experience, though 
 there be many drugs to purge these redundant humours 
 and circulations, that commonly impair health, and are 
 not natural, whether any man can with the safety of 
 his life bring a healthy constitution into physic with 
 this design, to alter his natural temperament and 
 disposition of mind. How much more vain and ridi- 
 culous would it be, by altering and rooting up the 
 grounds of nature, which is most likely to produce 
 death or madness, to hope the reducing of a mind to 
 this or that fitness, or two disagreeing minds to a mu- 
 tual sympathy ! Suppose they might, and that with 
 great danger of their lives and right senses, alter one 
 temperature, how can they know that the succeeding 
 disposition will not be as far from fitness and agree- 
 ment ? They would perhaps change melancholy into 
 sanguine ; but what if phlegm and choler in as great 
 a measure come instead, the unfitness will be still as 
 difficult and troublesome ."" But lastly, whether these 
 things be changeable or not, experience teaches us, 
 and our position supposes that they seldom do change 
 in any time commensurable to the necessities of man, 
 or convenient to the ends of marriage : and if the fault 
 be in the one, shall the other live all his days in bond- 
 age and misery for another's perverseness, or immedi- 
 
DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE, 
 
 225 
 
 ! cable disaffection ? To my friends, of which may fewest 
 be so unhappy, I have a remedy, as they know, more 
 wise and manly to prescribe : but for his friends and 
 followers, (of which many may deserve justly to feel 
 themselves the unhappiness which they consider not in 
 • others.) I send them by his advice to sit upon the stool 
 and strain, till their cross dispositions and contrarieties 
 of mind shall change to a better correspondence, and 
 to a quicker apprehension of common sense, and their 
 own good. 
 
 His second reason is as heedless ; " because that grace 
 may change the disposition, therefore no indisposition 
 may cause divorce." 
 
 Answ. First, it will not be deniable that many per- 
 sons, gracious both, may yet happen to be very unfitly 
 married, to the great disturbance of either. Secondly, 
 What if one have grace, the other not, and will not 
 alter, as the Scriptures testify there be of those, in 
 whom we may expect a change, when " the blacka- 
 moor changes his colour, or the leopard his spots," 
 Jcr. xiii. 23. Shall the gracious therefore dwell in 
 torment all his life, for the ungracious ? We see that 
 holiest precepts, than which there can no better physic 
 be administered to the mind of man, and set on with 
 powerful preaching, cannot work this cure, no not in 
 the family, not in the wife of him that preaches day 
 and night to her. What an unreasonable thing is it, 
 that men, and clergymen especially, should exact such 
 wonderous changes in another man's house, and are 
 seen to work so little in their own ! 
 
 To the second point of the position, that this unfit- 
 ness hinders the main ends and benefits of marriage ; 
 he answers, " if I mean the unfitness of choler, or sul- 
 len disposition, that soft words, according to Solomon, 
 pacify wrath." 
 
 But I reply, that the saying of Solomon is a proverb, 
 frequently true, not universally, as both the event shews, 
 and many other sentences written by the same author, 
 particularly of an evil woman, Prov. xxi. 9, 19, and in 
 other chapters, that she is better shunned than dwelt 
 with, and a desert is preferred before her society. What 
 need the Spirit of God put this choice into our heads, 
 if soft words could always take effect with her ? How 
 frivolous is not only this disputer, but be that taught 
 him thus, and let him come abroad ! 
 
 To his second answer I return this, that although 
 there be not easily found such an antipathy, as to hate 
 one another like a toad or poison ; yet that there is oft 
 such a dislike in both, or either, to conjugal love, as 
 hinders all the comfort of matrimony, scarce any can be 
 so simple as not to apprehend. And what can be that 
 favour, found or not found, in the eyes of the husband, 
 but a natural liking or disliking ; whereof the law of 
 God, Deut. xxiv. bears witness, as of an ordinary ac- 
 cident, and determines wisely and divinely thereafter. 
 And this disaffection happening to be in the one, not 
 without the unspeakable discomfort of the other, must 
 he be left like a thing consecrated to calamity and de- 
 spair, without redemption ? 
 
 Against the third branch of the position, he denies 
 that " solace and peace, which is contrary to discord 
 
 and variance, is the main end of marriage." What 
 then .'* He will have it " the solace of male and female." 
 Came this doctrine out of some school, or some sty ? 
 Who but one forsaken of all sense and civil nature, 
 and chiefly of Christianity, will deny that peace, con- 
 trary to discord, is the calling and the general end of 
 every Christian, and of all his actions, and more espe- 
 cially of marriage, which is the dearest league of love, 
 and the dearest resemblance of that love which in 
 Christ is dearest to his church.^ How then can peace 
 and comfort, as it is contrary to discord, whicii God 
 hates to dwell with, not be the main en<l of marriage ? 
 Discord then we ought to fly, and to pursue peace, far 
 above the observance of a civil covenant already broken, 
 and the breaking daily iterated on the other side. And 
 what better testimony than the words of the institution 
 itself, to prove that a conversing solace, and peaceful 
 society, is the prime end of marriage, without which 
 no other help or office can be mutual, beseeming the 
 dignity of reasonable creatures, that such as they should 
 be coupled in the rites of nature by the mere compul- 
 sion of lust, without love or peace, worse than wild 
 beasts ? Nor was it half so wisely spoken as some deem, 
 though Austin spake it, that if God had intended 
 other than copulation in marriage, he would for Adam 
 have created a friend, rather than a wife, to converse 
 with ; and our own writers blame him for this opinion; 
 for which and the like passages, concerning marriage, 
 he might be justly taxed with rusticity in these affairs. 
 For this cannot but be with ease conceived, that there 
 is one society of grave friendship, and another amiable 
 and attractive society of conjugal love, besides the 
 deed of procreation, which of itself soon cloys, and is 
 despised, unless it be cherished and reincited with a 
 pleasing conversation. Which if ignoble and swinish 
 minds cannot apprehend, shall such merit therefore be 
 the censures of more generous and virtuous spirits ? 
 
 Against the last point of the position, to prove that 
 contrariety of mind is not a greater cause of divorce 
 than corporal frigidity, he enters into such a tedious 
 and drawling tale " of burning, and burning, and lust 
 and burning," that the dull argument itself bums too 
 for want of stirring; and yet all this burning is not 
 able to expel the frigidity of his brain. So long there- 
 fore as that cause in the position shall be proved a 
 sufficient cause of divorce, rather than spend words 
 with this phlegmy clod of an antagonist, more than of 
 necessity and a little merriment, I will not now con- 
 tend whether it be a greater cause than frigidity or no. 
 
 His next attempt is upon the arguments which I 
 brought to prove the position. And for the first, not 
 finding it of that structure as to be scaled with his short 
 ladder, he retreats with a bravado, that it deserves no 
 answer. And I as much wonder what the whole book 
 deserved, to be thus troubled and solicited by such a 
 paltry solicitor. I would he had not cast the gracious 
 eye of his duncery upon the small deserts of a pam- 
 phlet, whose every line meddled with uncases him to 
 scorn and laughter. 
 
 That which he takes for the second argument, if he 
 look better, is no argument, but an induction to those 
 
996 
 
 A REPLY TO AN ANSWER AGAINST THE 
 
 that foIloM'. Then be stumbles that I should say, " the 
 gentlest ends of marriaf^e," confessing^ that he under- 
 stands it not. And I believe him heartily : fur how 
 should ho, a serving-man both by nature and by func- 
 tion, an idiot by breeding, and a solicitor by pre- 
 sumption, ever come to know or feel within himself 
 what the meaning is of " gentle?" He blames it for 
 " a neat phrase," for nothing angers him more than his 
 own proper contrary. Yet altogether without art sure 
 he is not ; for who could have devised to give us more 
 briefly a better description of his own servility.'' 
 
 But what will become now of the business I know 
 not ; for the man is suddenly taken with a lunacy of 
 law, and speaks revelations out of the attorney's aca- 
 demy onl>' from a lying spirit : for he says, " that 
 where a thing is void ipso facto, there needs no legal 
 proceeding to make it void :" which is false, for mar- 
 riage is void by adultery or frigidity, yet not made 
 void without legal proceeding. Then asks my opinion 
 of John-a-Noaks and John-a-Stiles : and I answer him, 
 that I, for my part, think John Dory was a better man 
 than both of them ; for certainly they were the greatest 
 wranglers that ever lived, and have filled all our law- 
 books with the obtunding story of their suits and trials. 
 After this he tells a miraculous piece of antiquity, 
 how " two Romans, Titus and Sempronius, made feofT- 
 ments," at Rome sure, and levied tines by the common 
 law. But now his fit of law past, yet hardly come to 
 himself, he maintains, that if marriage be void, as be- 
 ing neither of God nor nature, " there needs no legal 
 proceeding to part it," and I tell him that offends not 
 me : then, quoth he, " this is nothing to your book, 
 being the Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce." But 
 that I deny him ; for all discipline is not legal, that is 
 to say, juridical, but some is personal, some economi- 
 cal, and some ecclesiastical. 
 
 Lastly, If I prove that contrary dispositions are 
 joined neither of God nor nature, and so the marriage 
 void, " he will give me the controversy." I have 
 proved in that book to any wise man, and without 
 more ado the institution proves it. 
 
 ^Vhere I answer an objection usually made, that 
 " the disposition ought to be known before marriage," 
 and shew how difficult it is to choose a fit consort, and 
 how easy to mistake : the servitor would know " what 
 I mean by conversation," declaring his capacity nothing 
 refined since his law-puddering, but still the same it 
 was in the pantry, and at the dresser. Shall I argue 
 of conversation with this hoyden, to go and practise at 
 his opportunities in the larder ? To men of quality I 
 have said enough ; and experience confirms by daily 
 example, that wisest; soberest, justcst men are some- 
 times miserably mistaken in their choice. Whom to 
 leave thus without remedy, tossed and tempested in a 
 roost unquiet sea of afflictions and temptations, I say 
 is most unchristianly. 
 
 But he goes on to untruss my arguments, imagining 
 them his master's points. Only in the passage follow- 
 ing I cannot but admire the ripeness and the pregnance 
 of his native treachery, endeavouring to be more a fox 
 than his wit will suffer him. Whereas I brieflv men- 
 
 tioned certain heads of discourse, which I referred to a 
 place more proper according to my method, to be treat- 
 ed there at full with all their reasons about them, this 
 brain-worm, against all the laws of dispute, will needs 
 deal with them here. And as a country bind, some- 
 times ambitious to shew his betters that he is not so 
 simple as you take him, and that he knows his advan- 
 tages, will teach us a new trick to confute by. And 
 would you think to what a pride he swells in the con- 
 templation of his rare stratagem, offering to cai-p at the 
 language of a book, which yet he confesses to be 
 generally commended ; while himself will be acknow- 
 ledged, by all that read him, the basest and the hungri- 
 est enditer, that could take the boldness to look abroad. 
 Observe now the arrogance of a groom, how it will 
 mount. I had written, that common adultery is a thing 
 which the rankest politician would think it shame and 
 disworship, that his law should countenance. First, it 
 offends him, that " rankest" should signify aught but 
 his own smell : who that knows English should not 
 understand me, when I say a rank serving-man, a rank 
 pettifogger, to mean a mere serving-man, a mere and 
 arrant pettifogger, who lately was so hardy, as to la 
 aside his buckram-wallet, and make himself a fool i 
 print, with confuting books which are above him 
 Next, the word " politician " is not used to his maw, 
 and thereupon he plays the most notorious hobby-horse, 
 jesting and frisking in the luxury of his nonsense with 
 such poor fetches to cog a laughter from us, that no antic 
 hobnail at a morris, but is more handsomely facetious. 
 Concerning that place Deut. xxiv. 1, which he saith 
 to be " the main pillar of my opinion," though I rely 
 more on the institution than on that : these two pillars 
 I do indeed confess are to me as those two in the porch 
 of the temple, Jachin and Boaz, which names import 
 establishment and strength ; nor do I fear who can shake 
 them. The exposition of Deut. which I brought, is 
 the received exposition, both ancient and modern, by 
 all learned men, unless it be a monkish papist here and 
 there : and the gloss, which he and his obscure assist- 
 ant would persuade us to, is merely new and absurd^ 
 presumiug out of his utter ignorance in the Hebrew to 
 interpret those words of the text ; first, in a mistaken 
 sense of uncleanness, against all approved writers. 
 Secondly, in a limited sense, whenas the original speaks 
 without limitation, " some uncleanness, or any :" and 
 it had been a wise law indeed to mean itself particular, 
 and not to express the case which this acute rabbi hath 
 all this while been hooking for ; whereby they who are 
 most partial to him may guess that something is in this 
 doctrine which I allege, that forces the adversary to 
 such a new and strained exposition ; wherein he does 
 nothing for above four pages, but founder himself to 
 and fro in his own objections; one while denying that 
 divorce was permitted, another while affirming that it 
 was permitted fur the wife's sake, and after all, distru&ts 
 himself. And for his surest retirement, betakes him to 
 those old suppositions, " that Christ abolished the' 
 Mosaic law of divorce; that the Jews had not sufficient 
 knowledge in this point, through the darkness of the 
 dispensation of heavenly things ; that under the plen 
 
 i 
 
DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 227 
 
 teous grace of the gospel we are tied by cruellest com- 
 pulsion to live in marriage till death with the wicked- 
 est, the worst, the most persecuting mate." These 
 ignorant and doting surmises he might have read con- 
 futed at large, even in the first edition ; but found it 
 safer to pass that part over in silence. So that they 
 who see not the sottishness of this his new and tedious 
 exposition, arfe worthy to love it dearly. 
 
 His explanation done, he charges me with a wicked 
 gloss, and almost blasphemy, for saying that Christ in 
 teaching meant not always to be taken word for word ; 
 but like a wise physician, administering one excess 
 against another, to reduce us to a perfect mean. Cer- 
 tainly to teach us were no dishonest method : Christ 
 himself hath often used hyperboles in his teaching; 
 and gravest authors, both Aristotle in the second of his 
 " Ethics to Nichomachus," and Seneca in his seventh 
 " de Beneficiis," advise us to stretch out the line of 
 precept ofttimes beyond measure, that while we lend 
 further, the mean might be the easier attained. And 
 whoever comments that 5th of Matthew, when he 
 comes to the turning of cheek after cheek to blows, and 
 the parting both with cloak and coat, if any please to 
 be the riflcr, will be forced to recommend himself to 
 the same exposition, though this chattering lawmonger 
 be bold to call it wicked. Now note another precious 
 piece of him ; Christ, saith he, " doth not say that an 
 unchaste look is adultery, but the lusting after her;" as 
 if the looking unchastely could be without lusting. 
 This gear is licensed for good reason ; " Imprimatur." 
 
 Next he would prove, that the speech of Christ is not 
 uttered in excess against the Pharisees, first, " because 
 he speaks it to his disciples," Matth. v. which is false, 
 for he spake it to the multitude, as by the first verse is 
 evident, among which in all likelihood were many 
 Pliarisees, but outof doubt all of them pharisean disci- 
 ples, and bred up in their doctrine ; from which ex- 
 tremes of errour and falsity Christ throughout his 
 whole sermon labours to reclaim the people. Second- 
 ly, saith he, " because Christ forbids not only putting 
 away, but marrying her who is put away." Acutely, 
 as if the Pharisees might not have offended as much 
 in marrying the divorced, as in divorcing the married. 
 The precept may bind all, rightly understood ; and yet 
 the vehement manner of giving it may be occasioned 
 only by the Pharisees. 
 
 Finally, he winds up his text with much doubt and 
 trepidation ; for it may be his trenchers were not 
 scraped, and that which never yet afforded corn of sa- 
 vour to his noddle, the saltcellar was not nibbed: and 
 therefore in this haste easily granting, that his answers 
 fall foul upon each other, and praying, you would not 
 think he writes as a prophet, but as a man, he runs to 
 the blackjack, fills his flagon, spreads the table, and 
 serves up dinner. 
 
 After waiting and voiding, he thinks to void my 
 second argument, and the contradictions that will fol- 
 low both in the law and gospel, if the Mosaic law were 
 abrogated by our Saviour, and a compulsive prohibition 
 fixed instead : and sings his old song, " that the gos- 
 pel counts unlawful that which the law allowed," in- 
 
 stancing in circumcision, sacrifices, washings. But 
 what are these ceremonial things to the changing of a 
 moral point in household duty, equally belonging to 
 Jew and Gentile ? Divorce was then right, now wrong ; 
 then permitted in the rigorous time of law, now forbid- 
 den by law, even to the most extremely afflicted, in 
 the favourable time of grace and freedom. But this is 
 not for an unbuttoned fellow to discuss in the garret at 
 his trestle, and dimension of candle by the snuff; 
 which brought forth his scuUionly paraphrase on St. 
 Paul, whom he brings in discoursing such idle stuflT to 
 the maids and widows, as his own servile inurbanity 
 forbears not to put into the apostle's mouth, " of the 
 soul's conversing :" and this he presumes to do, being 
 a bayard, who never had the soul to know what con- 
 versing means, but as his provender and the familiarity 
 of the kitchen schooled bis conceptions. 
 
 He passes to the third argument, like a boar in a 
 vineyard, doing nought else, but still as he goes champ- 
 ing and chewing over, what I could mean by this chi- 
 mtpra of a " fit conversing soul," notions and words 
 never made for those chops; but like a generous wine, 
 only by overworking the settled mud of his fancy, to 
 make him drunk, and disgorge his vileness the more 
 openly. All persons of gentle breeding (I say 
 " gentle," though this barrow grunt at the word) I 
 know will apprehend, and be satisfied in what I spake, 
 how unpleasing and discontenting the society of body 
 must needs be between those whose minds cannot be 
 sociable. But what should a man say more to a snout 
 in this pickle ? What language can be low and degene- 
 rate enough ? 
 
 The fourth argument wbieb I had was, that mar- 
 riage being a covenant, the very being whereof con- 
 sists in the performance of unfeigned love and peace; 
 if that were not tolerably performed, the covenant be- 
 came broke and revocable. Which how can any, in 
 whose mind the principles of right reason and justice 
 are not cancelled, deny ? For how can a thing subsist, 
 when the true essence thereof is dissolved ? Yet this he 
 denies, and yet in such a manner as alters my assertion ; 
 for he puts in, " though the main end be not attained 
 in full measure:" but my position is, if it be not tole- 
 rably attained, as throughout the whole discourse is 
 apparent. 
 
 Now for his reasons : " Heman found not that peace 
 and solace which is the main end of communion with 
 God, should he therefore break off that communion ?" 
 
 I answer, that if Hemau found it not, the fault was 
 certainly his own; but in marriage it happens far 
 otherwise : sometimes the fault is plainly not bis who 
 seeks divorce ; sometimes it cannot be discerned whose 
 fault it is ; and therefore cannot in reason or equity be 
 the matter of an absolute prohibition. 
 
 His other instance declares, what a right handicrafts- 
 man he is of petty cases, and how unfit to be aught else 
 at highest, but a hackney of the law. " I change 
 houses with a man ; it is supposed I do it for my own 
 ends ; I attain them not in this house ; I shall not 
 therefore go from my bargain." How without fear 
 might the young Charinus in Andria now cry out, 
 
228 
 
 A REPLY TO AN ANSWER AGAINST THE 
 
 " What likeness can be here to a marriage ?" In this 
 barg^ain was iio capitulation, but the j'ieldin<f of pos- 
 session to one another, wherein each of them had his 
 several end apart. In marriage there is a solemn vow 
 of love and fidelity each to other : this bargain is fully 
 accomplished in the change ; in marriage the covenant 
 still is in performing. If one of them perform notliing 
 tolerably, but instead of love, abound in disaffection, 
 disobedience, fraud, and hatred ; wliat thing in the 
 nature of a covenant shall bind the other to such a 
 perdurable mischief.^ Keep to your problems of ten 
 gfroats, these matters are not for pragmatics and folk- 
 mooters to babble in. 
 
 Concerning the place of Paul," that God hath called 
 us to peace," 1 Cor. vii. and therefore, certainly, if 
 any where in this world, we have a right to claim it 
 reasonably in marriage ; it is plain enough in the sense 
 which I gave, and confessed by Parteus, and other or- 
 thodox divines, to be a good sense, and this answerer 
 doth not weaken it. The other place, that " he who 
 hateth, may put away," which if I shew him, he pro- 
 mises to yield the whole controversy, is, besides Deut. 
 xxiv. 1, Deut. xxi. 14, and before this, Exod. xxi. 8. 
 Of Malachi I have spoken more in another place ; 
 and say again, that the best interpreters, all the an- 
 cient, and most of the modern, translate it as I cite 
 it, and very few otherwise, whereof perhaps Junius is 
 the chief. 
 
 Another thing troubles him, that mannage is called 
 " the mystery of joy." Let it still trouble him ; for 
 what hath he to do either with joy or with mystery ? 
 He thinks it frantic divinity to say, it is not the out- 
 waid continuance of marriage that keeps the covenant 
 of marriage whole; but whosoever doth most accord- 
 ing to peace and love, whether in marriage or divorce, 
 he breaks marriage least. If I shall spell it to him, 
 he breaks marriage least, is to say, he dishonours not 
 marriage ; for least is taken in the Bible, and other 
 good authors, for, not at all. And a particular mar- 
 riage a man may break, if for a lawful cause, and yet 
 not break, that is, not violate, or dishonour the ordi- 
 nance of marriage. Hence those two questions that 
 follow are left ridiculous ; and the maids at Aldgate, 
 whom he flouts, are likely to have more wit than the 
 serving-man at Addle-gate. 
 
 Whereas he taxes me of adding to the Scripture in 
 that I said love only is the fulfilling of every command- 
 ment, I cited no particular scripture, but spake a gene- 
 ral sense, which might be collected from many places. 
 For seeing love includes faith, what is there that can 
 fulfil every commandment but only love ? and I 
 meant, as any intelligent reader might apprehend, 
 every positive and civil commandment, whereof Christ 
 hath taught us that man is the lord. It is not the for- 
 mal duty of worship, or the sitting still, that keeps the 
 holy rest of sabbath ; but whosoever doth most accord- 
 ing to charity, whether he works or works not, he 
 breaks the holy rest of sabbath least. So marriage be- 
 ing a civil ordinance, made for man, not man for it; 
 he who doth that which most accords with charity, first 
 to himself, next to whom he next owes it, whether in 
 
 marriage or divorce, he breaks the ordinance of mar- 
 riage least. And what in religious prudence can be 
 charity to himself, and what to his wife, either in con- 
 tinuing or in dissolving the marriage-knot, hath been 
 already oft enough discoursed. So that what St. Paul 
 saith of circumcision, the same I stick not to say of a 
 civil ordinance, made to the good and comfort of man, 
 not to his ruin ; marriage is nothing, and divorce is 
 nothing, " but faith which worketh by love." And 
 this I trust none can mistake. 
 
 Against the fifth argument, that a Christian, in a 
 higher order of priesthood than that Levitical, is a 
 person dedicate to joy and peace ; and therefore needs 
 not in subjection to a civil ordinance, made to no other 
 end but for his good, (when without his fault he finds it 
 impossible to be decently or tolerably observed,) to 
 plunge himself into immeasurable distractions and 
 temptations, above his strength ; against this he proves 
 nothing, but gads into silly conjectures of what abuses 
 would follow, and with as good reason might declaim 
 against the best things that are. 
 
 Against the sixth argument, that to force the con- 
 tinuance of marriage between minds found utterly un- 
 fit and disproportional, is against nature, and seems 
 forbid under that allegorical precept of Moses, " not to 
 sow a field with divers seeds, lest both be defiled ; not 
 to plough with an ox and an ass together," which I de- 
 duced by the pattern of St. Paul's reasoning what was 
 meant by not muzzli^ig the ox ; he rambles over a long 
 naiTation, to tell us that " by the oxen are meant the 
 preachers :" which is not doubted. Then he demands, 
 " if this my reasoning be like St. Paul's." And I an- 
 swer him, yes. He replies, that sure St. Paul would 
 be ashamed to reason thus. And J tell him, no. He 
 grants that place which I alleged, 2 Cor. vi. of un- 
 equal yoking, may allude to tliat of Moses, but says, " I 
 cannot prove it makes to my purpose," and shews not 
 first how he can disprove it. Weigh, gentlemen, and 
 consider, whether my affirmations, backed with reason, 
 may hold balance against the bare denials of this pon- 
 derous confuter, elected by his ghostly patrons to be 
 my copesmate. 
 
 Proceeding on to speak of mysterious things in na- 
 ture, I had occasion to fit the language thereafter ; mat- 
 ters not, for the reading of this odious fool, who thus 
 ever, when he meets with aught above the cogitation 
 of his breeding, leaves the noisome stench of his rude 
 slot behind him, maligning that any thing should be 
 spoke or understood above his own genuine baseness; 
 and gives sentence that his confuting hath been em- 
 ployed about a frothy, immeritous, and undeserving 
 discourse. Who could have believed so much inso- 
 lence durst vent itself from out the hide of a varlet, as 
 thus to censure that which men of mature judgment 
 have applauded to be writ from good reason .'' But this 
 contents hinj not, he falls now to rave in his barbarous 
 abusiveness ; and why .'' a reason befitting such an ar- 
 tificer, because he saith the book is contrary to all hu^ 
 man learning; whenas the world knows, that all hot 
 human and divine leaniing, till the canon law, allowed 
 divorce by consent, and for many causes without coi 
 
DOCTRINE AND DISCIPLINE OF DIVORCE. 
 
 229 
 
 sent. Next, he dooms it as contrary to truth ; whenas 
 it hath been disputable among' learned men, ever since 
 it was prohibited : and is by Peter Martyr thought an 
 opinion not impious, but hard to be refuted ; and by 
 Erasmus deemed a doctrine so charitable and pious, as, 
 if it cannot be used, were to be wished it could; but is 
 by Martin Bucer, a man of dearest and most religious 
 memory in the church, taught and maintained to be 
 either most lawfully used, or most lawfully permitted. 
 And for this, for I affirm no more than Bucer, what 
 censure do you think, readers, he hath condemned the 
 book to ? To a death no less impious than to be burnt 
 by the hangman. Mr. Licenser, (for I deal not now 
 with this caitiff, never worth my earnest, and now not 
 seasonable for my jest,) you are reputed a man discreet 
 enough, religious enough, honest enough, that is, to an 
 ordinary competence in all these. Bui now your turn 
 is, to hear what your own hand hath earned ye ; that 
 when you suffered this nameless hangman to cast into 
 public such a despiteful contumely upon a name and 
 person deserving of the church and state equally to 
 yourself; and one who hath done more to the present 
 advancement of your own tribe, than you or many of 
 them have done for themselves ; you forgot to be either 
 honest, religious, or discreet. Whatever the state might 
 do concerning it, supposed a matter to expect evil from, 
 I should not doubt to meet among them with wise, and 
 honourable, and knowing men : but as to this brute 
 libel, so much the more impudent and lawless for the 
 abused authority which it bears ; I say again, that I 
 abominate the censure of rascals and their licensers. 
 
 With difficulty I return to what r:mains of this ig- 
 noble task, for the disdain I have to change a period 
 more with the filth and venom of this gourmand, swell- 
 ed into a confuter ; yet for the satisfaction of others I 
 endure all this. 
 
 Against the seventh argument, that if the canon law 
 and divines allow divorce for conspiracy of death, they 
 may as well allow it to avoid the same consequence 
 from the likelihood of natural causes. 
 
 Fii-st, he denies that the canon so decrees. 
 I answer, that it decrees for danger of life, as much 
 as for adultery, Dccret. Gregor. 1. 4, tit. 19, and in other 
 places : and the best civilians, who cite the canon law, 
 so collect, as Schneidewin in Instit. tit. 10, p. 4, de 
 Divort. And indeed, who would have denied it, but 
 one of a reprobate ignorance in all he meddles with ? 
 Secondly, he saith the case alters ; for there the of- 
 fender, " who seeks the life, doth implicitly at least act 
 a divorce." 
 
 And I answer, that here nature, though no offender, 
 doth the same. But if an offender, by acting a di- 
 vorce, shall release the offended, this is an ample grant 
 against himself. He saith, nature teaches to save life 
 from one who seeks it. And I say, she teaches no less 
 to save it from any other cause that endangers it. He 
 saith, that here they are both actors. Admit they were, 
 it would not be uncharitable to part them ; yet some- 
 times they are not both actors, but the one of them 
 most lamentedly passive. So he concludes, we must 
 not take advantage of our own faults and corruptions 
 
 to release us from our duties. But shall we take no 
 advantage to save ourselves from the faults of another, 
 who hath annulled his right to our duty.? No, says he, 
 " let them die of the sullens, and try who will pity 
 them." Barbarian, the shame of all honest attorneys ! 
 why do they not hoise him over the bar and blanket 
 him ? 
 
 Against the eighth argument, that they who are des- 
 titute of all marriageable gifts, except a body not 
 plainly unfit, have not the calling to marry, and conse- 
 quently married and so found, may be divorced : this 
 he saith, is nothing to the purpose, and not fit to be an- 
 swered. I leave it therefore to the judgment of bis 
 masters. 
 
 Against the ninth argument, that marriage is a hu- 
 man society, and so chiefly seated in agreement and 
 unity of mind : if therefore the mind cannot have that 
 due society by marriage, that it may reasonably and 
 humanly desire, it can be no human society, and so not 
 without reason divorcible : here he falsifies, and turns 
 what the position required of a reasonable agreement 
 in the main matters of society into an agreement in all 
 things, which makes the opinion not mine, and so he 
 leaves it. 
 
 At last, and in good hour, we are come to his fare- 
 well, which is to be a concluding taste of his jabber- 
 ment in law, the flashiest and the fustiest that ever cor- 
 rupted in such an unswilled hogshead. 
 
 Against my tenth argument, as he calls it, but as I 
 intended it, my other position, " That divorce is not a 
 thing determinable by a compulsive law, for that all 
 law is for some good that may be frequently attained 
 without the admixture of a worse inconvenience : but 
 the law forbidding divorce never attains to any good 
 end of such prohibition, but rather multiplies evil ; 
 therefore the prohibition of divorce is no good law." 
 Now for his attorney's prize : but first, like a right 
 cunning and sturdy logician, he denies my argument, 
 not mattering whether in the major or minor: and 
 saith, " there are many laws made for good, and yet 
 that good is not attained, through the defaults of the 
 party, but a greater inconvenience follows." 
 
 But I reply, that this answer builds upon a shallow 
 foundation, and most unjustly supposes every one in 
 default, who seeks divorce from the most injurious 
 wedlock. The default therefore will be found in the 
 law itself; which is neither able to punish the offender, 
 but the innocent must withal suffer ; nor can right the 
 innocent in what is chiefly sought, the obtainment of 
 love or quietness. His instances out of the common 
 law are all so quite beside the matter which he would 
 prove, as may be a warning to all clients how they 
 venture their business with such a cockbrained solicitor. 
 For being to shew some law of England, attaining to 
 no good end, and yet through no default of the party, 
 who is thereby debarred all remedy, he shews us only 
 how some do lose the benefit of good laws throuo"h 
 their own default. His first example saith, " it is a 
 just law that every one shall peaceably enjoy his estate 
 in lands or otherwise." Does this law attain to no good 
 end ? The bar will blush at this most incogitant wood- 
 
230 
 
 A REPLY TO AN ANSWER AGAINST THE DOCTRINE, &c. 
 
 cock. But see if a draught of Littleton will recover 
 him to his senses. " If this man, having fee simple in 
 his lands, yet will take a lease of his own lands from 
 another, this shall be an cstopple to him in an assize 
 from the recovering of his own land." 
 
 Mark now and register him ! How many are there 
 of ten thousand who have such a fee simple in their 
 sconce, as to take a lease of their own lands from an- 
 other? So that thi» inconvenience lights upon scarce 
 one in an age, and by his own default ; and the law 
 of enjoying each man his own is good to all others. 
 But on the contrary, this prohibition of divorce is good 
 to none, and brings inconvenience to numbers, who lie 
 under intolerable grievances without their own default, 
 through the wickedness or folly of another ; and all 
 this iniquity the law remedies not, but in a manner 
 maintains. His other cases are directly to the same 
 purpose, and might have been spared, but that he is a 
 tradesman of the law, and must be borne with at his 
 first setting up, to lay forth his best ware, which is 
 only gibberish. 
 
 I have now done that, which for many causes I 
 might have thought could not likely have been my for- 
 tune, to be put to this underwork of scouring and un- 
 rubbishing the low and sordid ignorance of such a 
 presumptuous lozel. Yet Hercules had the labour once 
 imposed upon him to carry dung out of the Augean 
 stable. At any hand I would be rid of him : for I had 
 rather, since the life of man is likened to a scene, that 
 all my entrances and exits might mix with such per- 
 sons only, whose worth erects them and their actions 
 to a grave and tragic deportment, and not to have to 
 do with clowns and vices. But if a man cannot peace- 
 ably walk into the world, but must be infested ; some- 
 times at his face with dorrs and horseflies, sometimes 
 beneath with bawling whippets and shin barkers, and 
 these to be set on by plot and consultation with a junto 
 of clergymen and licensers, commended also and re- 
 joiced in by those whose partiality cannot yet forego 
 old papistical principles ; have I not cause to be in 
 such a manner defensive, as may procure me freedom 
 to pass more unmolested hereafter by those encum- 
 'brances, not so much regarded for themselves, as for 
 
 those who incite them ? And what defence can pro- 
 perly be used in such a despicable encounter as this, 
 but either the slap or the spurn ? If they can afford 
 me none but a ridiculous adversary, the blame belongs 
 not to me, though the whole dispute be strewed and 
 scattered with ridiculous. And if he have such an 
 ambition to know no better who are his mates, but 
 among those needy thoughts, which, though his two 
 faculties of serving-man and solicitor should compound 
 into one mongrel, would be but thin and meagre, if in 
 this penury of soul he can be possible to have the lusti- 
 ness to think of fame, let him but send me how he calls 
 himself, and I may chance not fail to indorse him on 
 the backside of posterity, not a golden, but a brazen 
 ass. Since my fate extorts from me a talent of sport, 
 which I had thought to hide in a napkin, he shall be 
 my Batrachomuomachia, my Bavius, my Calandrino, 
 the common adagy of ignorance and overweening: 
 nay, perhaps, as the provocation may be, I may be 
 driven to curl up this gliding prose into a rough sotadic, 
 that shall rhyme him into such a condition, as instead 
 of judging good books to be burnt by the executioner, 
 he shall be readier to be his own hangman. Thus 
 much to this nuisance. 
 
 But as for the subject itself, which I have writ and 
 now defend, according as the opposition bears ; if any 
 man equal to the matter shall think it appertains him to 
 take in hand this controversy, either excepting against 
 aught written, or persuaded he can shew better Iiow 
 this question, of such moment to be throughly known, 
 may receive a true determination, not leaning on the 
 old and rotten suggestions whereon it yet leans; if his 
 intents be sincere to the public, and shall carry him on 
 without bitterness to the opinion, or to the person dis- 
 senting ; let him not, I entreat him, guess by the 
 handling, which meritoriously hath been bestowed on 
 this object of contempt and laughter, that I account it 
 any displeasure done me to be contradicted in print : 
 but as it leads to the attainment of any thing more true, 
 shall esteem it a benefit; and shall know how to return 
 his civility and fair argument in such a sort, as he shall 
 confess that to do so is my choice, and to have done 
 thus was my chance. 
 
 1 
 
^^^l' 
 
 THE 
 
 ENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES: 
 
 PBOVINO / " ' 
 
 THAT IT IS LA WFITL. AND HATH BEEft HBLD SO THROUGH Af.L AGES, FOR ANY, WHO HAVE THE POWKR, TO CALL TO ACCOUKT 
 VTYHANT, OR WICKKI) KINQ, AND, APtTRDUE CONVICTION, TO DEPOSE, AND PUT HIM TO DEATH; IF THE ORDINARY MAOISM 
 TRAtE HAVK M;i;i,i:c IKU, OR DENIED TO DO IT- 
 
 THAT THBY. WHO OP LATB SO MOCH BIAMB DBPOMHO, ABI TBI MBH THAT DID IT THBM8KLVBB.* 
 
 ln*n pvBLUHBD 1643-9.] 
 
 If men within thems elyes woqldL..fe&..gpverned by 
 
 reaso n, and not generally give up their understanding 
 to a double tyranny, of custom from without, and blind 
 affe ctions within; they woiihl discern ht ttrr wliat it is 
 to favou rjuid uphold the tyrant of a nation. But be- 
 ing slaves within doors, no wonder that they strive so 
 much to have the public state conformably governed 
 to the inward vitious rule, by which they govern them- 
 selves. For indeed none can love freedorn heartily, 
 butj^oodmen: the rest love not freedom, but lircnre: 
 which never hath more scope, or more induli^' m • tliui 
 under tyrants. Hence is it, that tyrants are not oft 
 offen ded, nor stand much in doubt of l);ul men, as being 
 all naturally servile; but in whom virtue and true 
 worth most is eminent, them they fear in earnest, ashy 
 right their masters; against tin ni li<s all their hatred 
 and suspicion. Consequently ueitlier <1() had men hate 
 tyrants, but have been always readiest, with the falsi- 
 fied names of Loyalty and Obedience, to colour over 
 their base compliances. And although sometimes for 
 shame, and when it comes to their own grievances, of 
 purse especially, they would seem good patriots, and 
 side with the better cause, yet when others for the de- 
 liverance of their country endued with fortitude and 
 heroic virtue, to fear nothing but the curse written 
 against those " that do the work of the Lord negli- 
 gently,"f >vould go on to remove, not only the calami- 
 ties and thraldoms of a people, but the roots and causes 
 whence they spring; straight these men, and sure 
 helpers at need, as if they hated only the miseries,^ but 
 not the mischiefs, after they have juggled and paltered 
 with the world, bandied and borne arms against their 
 king, divested him, disanointed him, nay, cursed him 
 all overln tTieir pulpits, and tlieir pamphlets, to the en- 
 gaging oT sincere and real men beyond what is possi- 
 ble or honest to retreat from, not only turn revolters 
 
 • This tract, which was lirst published in February 1648 9, after the 
 execution of kinn Charles, and is a defence of that action aRaiast the objec- 
 tions of the Presbyterians, was, in the year 1650^ republished by the author 
 with considerable additious, all which, omitted in every former edition of 
 tlieaaihor's works, are here carefully iiiserted in their proper places. 'Hie 
 
 ^5L'^^^iJB™?.?i£l55>.^''^''^ only could at first mov& 
 them, but lay the sU-ain of disloyalty, and worse, on 
 those proceedings, whicib are the necessary conse- 
 quences of their own former actions ; nor disliked by 
 themselves, were they managed to the entire advan- 
 tages of their own faction ; not considering the while 
 that he, toward whom tliey boasted their new fidelity, 
 counted them accessory ; and by those statutes and 
 laws, which they so impotently brandish against others, 
 would have doomed them to a traitor's death for what 
 they have done already.. It is true, that most men are 
 apt enough to civil wars and commotions as a novelty, 
 and for a flash hot and active ; but through sloth or in- 
 constancy, and weakness of spirit, either fainting ere 
 their own pretences, though never so just, be half at- 
 tained, or, through an inbred falsehood and wicked- 
 ness, betray ofttimes to destruction with themselves 
 men of noblest temper joined with them for causes, 
 whereof they in their rash undertakings were not capa- 
 ble. If God and a good cause give them victory, the 
 prosecution whereof for the most part inevitably draws 
 after it the alteration of laws, change of government, 
 downfall of princes with their families ; then comes the 
 task to those worthies, which are the soul of that enter- 
 prise, to be sweat and laboured out amidst the throng 
 and noses of vulgar and irrational men. Some con- 
 testing for privileges, customs, forms, and that old en- 
 tanglement of iniquity, their gibberish laws, though the 
 badge of their ancient slavery. Others, who have been 
 fiercest against their prince, under the notion of a ty- 
 rant, and no mean incendiaries of the war against them, 
 when God, out of his providence and high disposal hath 
 delivered him into the hand of their brethren, on a sud- 
 den and in a new garb of allegiance, which their doings 
 have long since cancelled, they plead for him, pity him, 
 extol him, protest against those that talk of bringing 
 
 copy which I use, after the above title, has the following sentence ; " Pub- 
 lisiied now the second time with some additions, and many testimonies also 
 added out of the best and learnedest amonK protestant divines, asserting 
 the position of this book." The passages here restored are marked witb 
 single inverted commas. t Jer. xlviii. 1. 
 
232 
 
 THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 liim to the trial of justice, which is the sword of God, 
 superior to all mortal things, in whose hand soever hy 
 apparent signs his testified will is to put it. ^ But certain- 
 ly, if we consider, who and what they are, on a sudden 
 grown so pitiful, we may conclude their pity can be no 
 true and christian commiseration, but either levity and 
 shallowness of mind, or else a carnal admiring of that 
 worldly pomp and greatness, from whence they see 
 him fallen ; or rather, lastly, a dissembled and seditious 
 pity, feigned of industry to beget new discord. As for 
 mercy, if it be to a tyrant, under which name they 
 themselves have cited him so oft in the hearing of God, 
 of angels, and the holy church assembled, and there 
 charged him with the spilling of more innocent blood 
 by far, than ever Nero did, undoubtedly the mercy 
 which they pretend is the mercy of wicked men, and 
 " their mercies,"* we read," are cruelties;" hazarding 
 the welfare of a whole nation, to have saved one whom 
 they so oft have termed Agag, and vilifying the blood 
 of many Jonathans that have saved Israel ; insisting 
 with much niceness on the unnecessariest clause of 
 their covenant wrested, wherein the fear of change and 
 the absurd contradiction of a flattering hostility had 
 hampered them, but not scrupling to give away for 
 compliments, to an implacable revenge, the heads of 
 many thousand Christians more. 
 
 Another sort there is, who coming in the course of 
 these affairs, to have their share in great actions above 
 the form of law or custom, at least to give their voice 
 and approbation ; begin to swerve and almost shiver 
 at the majesty and grandeur of some noble deed, as if 
 they were newly entered into a great sin ; disputing 
 precedents, forms, and circumstances, when the com- 
 monwealth nigh perishes for want of deeds in substance, 
 done with just and faithful expedition. To these I wish 
 better instruction, and virtue equal to their calling ; 
 the former of which, that is to say instruction, I shall 
 endeavour, as my duty is, to bestow on them ; and ex- 
 hort them not to'startle from the just and pious resolu- 
 tion of adiicring with all their strength and assistance 
 to the present parliament and army, in the glorious way 
 wherein justice and victory hath set them; the only 
 warrapts through all ages, next under immediate reve- 
 lation, to exercise supreme power ; in those proceed- 
 ings, which hitherto appear equal to what hath been 
 done in any age or nation heretofore justly or mag- 
 nanimousl3\^ Nor let them be discouraged or deterred 
 by any new apostate scarecrows, who, under shew of 
 giving counsel, send out their barking monitories and 
 mementoes, empty of aught else but the spleen of a 
 frustrated faction. Tor how can that pretended counsel 
 be either sound or faithful, when they that give it see 
 not, for madness and vexation of their ends lost, that 
 those statutes and scriptures, which both falsely and 
 scandalously they wrest against their friends and asso- 
 ciates, would by sentence of the common adversary fall 
 first and heaviest upon their own heads ? Neither let 
 mild and tender dispositions be foolishly softened from 
 their duty and perseverance with the unmasculine rhe- 
 toric of any puling priest or chaplain, sent as a friendly 
 
 * Prov. xii. 10. 
 
 
 ' 
 
 letter of advice, for fashion's sake in private, and forth- 
 with published by the sender himself, that we may 
 know how much of friend there was in it, to cast an 
 odious envj' upon them to whom it was pretended to 
 be sent in charity. Nor let any man be deluded by 
 either the ignorance, .or the notorious hypocrisy and 
 self-repugnance, of pur dancing divines, who have the 
 conscience and the boldness to come with scripture in 
 their mouths, glossed and fitted for their turns with a 
 double contradictory sense, transforming the sacred 
 verity of God to an idol with two faces, looking at once 
 two several ways; and with the same quotations to 
 charge others, which in the same case they made serve 
 to justify themselves. For while the hope to be made 
 classic and provincial lords led tlicni on, while plural- 
 ities greased them thick and deep, to the shame and 
 scandal of religion, more than all the sects and heresies 
 they exclaim against; tjien to fight against the king's 
 person, and no less a party of his lords and commons, 
 or to put force upon both the houses, was good, was 
 lawful, was no resisting of superior powers ; they onlj;; 
 were powers not to be resisted, who countenanced the 
 good, and punished the evil. But now that their cenj 
 sorious domineering is not suffered to be univei-sa], truth 
 and conscience to be freed, tithes and pluralities to be 
 no more, though competent allowance provided, and 
 the warm experience of large gifts, and they so good 
 at taking them ; yet now to exclude and seize upon 
 impeached members, to bring delinquents without ex- 
 emption to a fair tribunal by the common national law 
 against murder, is now to be no less than Corah, Da- 
 than, and Abiram. He who but erewhile in the puljyte 
 was a cursed tyrant, an enemy to God and saints, laden 
 with all the innocent blood spilt in three kingdoms, 
 and so to be fought against ; is now, though nothing 
 penitent or altered from his first principles, a lawful 
 magistrate, a sovereign lord, the Lord's anointed, not to 
 be touched, though by themselves imprisoned. As if this 
 only were obedience, to preserve the mere useless bulk 
 of his person, and that only in prison, not in the field, 
 not to disobey his commands, deny him his dignity 
 and office, every where to resist his power, but where 
 they think it only surviving in their own faction. 
 
 But who in particular is a tyrant, cannot be deter- 
 mined in a general discourse, otherwise than by sup- 
 position ; his particular charge, and the sufficient proof 
 of it, must determine that : which I leave to magistrates, 
 at least to the uprighter sort of them, and of the people, 
 though in number less by many, in whom faction least 
 hath prevailed above the law of nature and right rea- 
 son, to judge as they find cause. But this I dare own 
 as part of my faith, that if such a one there be, by^ 
 whose commission whole massacres have been com^ 
 mitted on his faithful subjects, his provinces offered to 
 pawn or alienation, as the hire of those whom he had 
 solicited to come in and destroy whole cities and coun- ^ 
 tries ; be be king, or tyrant, or emperor, the sword^of 
 justice is above him ; in whose hand soever is found 
 sufficient power to avenge the effusion, and so great j,_ 
 deluge of innocent blood. For if all human power to 
 
THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 233 
 
 execute, not accidentally but intendetirjr the wrath of 
 God upon evil-doers without exception, he of God ; 
 then that power, whether ordinarj, or if that fail, ex- 
 traordinary, so executing- that intent of God, is lawful, 
 and not to he resisted. But to unfold more at large 
 this whole question, though with all expedient brevity, 
 I shall here set down, from first beginning-, the original 
 of kings ; how and wlierefore exalted to that dignity 
 above their brethren ; and from thence shall prove, 
 that turning to tyranny they may be as lawfully de- 
 pesed_and punished, as they were at first elected : this 
 I_8ball do^ by authorities and reasons^ not learnt in 
 corners among schisms and heresies, as our doubling 
 divines are ready to calumniate, but fetched out of the 
 midst o f choic est and most authentic learning, and no 
 prohibited authors; nor many heathen, biit mosaical. 
 Christian, orthodoxal, and which must needs be more 
 convincing to our adversaries, presbyterial. 
 
 No man, who knows aught, can be so stupid to deny, 
 that aJl^meii naturally were^bgrn free, being the image 
 and resemblance of God himself, and were, by privi- 
 lege above all the creatures, bom to command, and not 
 to^bey : and that they lived so, till from the root of 
 Adam's transgression, falling among themselves to do 
 wrong and violence, and foreseeing that such courses 
 must needs tend to the destruction of them all, they 
 a greed by c ommon^ leag ue_to bind each other from 
 mutual injury, and jointly to defend thems;elves against 
 any, that gave disturbance or opposition to such agree- 
 ment. Hence came cities, towns, and commonwealths. 
 And because no faith in all was found sufficiently biiid- 
 mg, they saw it needful to ordain some authority, ^bat 
 might restrain by force and punishment what was vio- 
 lated against peace and common right. This authority 
 and power of self-defence and preservation being origi- 
 pall y and naturally in eve ry one of tluni, and unitedly 
 in them all ; for ease, for order, and lest each man 
 should be bis own partial judge, they communicated 
 and derived e|Uier_toj»ne^jvhpin^|for the eminence of 
 Lis wisdom and integrity they chose above the rest, or 
 to mo re than one, whom they thought of equal deserv- 
 ini^ : the first was called a king ; the other, magistrates ; 
 not to be their lords and masters, (though afterward 
 those names in some places were given voluntarily to 
 such as had been authors of inestimable good to the 
 people,) but to Ih- tin ir deputies jnd commissioners, to 
 execute, by virtue of their intrusted power, that justiccj 
 which else every man by the bond of nature and of 
 covenant must have executed for himself, and for one 
 another. And to him that shall consider well, why 
 among free persons one man by civil right should bear 
 authority and jurisdiction over another; no other end 
 or reason can be imaginable. . These for a while go- 
 verned well, and with much equity decided all things 
 attlieir own arbitrement; till the temptation of such a 
 j)ower, left absolute in their hands, perverted them at 
 length to injustice and partiality. Then did they, who 
 now by trial had found the danger and inconveniences 
 of- committing arbitrary power to any, invent laws 
 ^il^i^T-/™'?.?.^ ,OL!^o."sented to by all; that should con- 
 fine and limit the authority of whom they chose to 
 
 govern them : that so man, of whose failing they had 
 proof, might np more rule over them, but law and rea- 
 son, abstracted as much as might be from personal 
 errours and frailties. " While, as the magistrate was 
 set above the people, so the law was set above the' 
 magistrate." When this would not serve, but that the 
 law was either not executed, or misapplied, they were 
 constrained from that time, the only remedy left 
 them, to put conditions and take oaths from all kings 
 audjoagistrates at their first instalment to do impar- 
 tial justice by law: who upon those terms and no 
 other, received allegiance from the people, that is to 
 say, bond or covenant to obey them in execution of 
 those laws, which they tBe people had themselves 
 niade or a.sseut£iL,tp. And this ofttimes with express 
 warning, that if the king or magistrate proved un- 
 faithful to his trust, the people would be disengaged. 
 They added also counsellors and parliaments, not to be 
 only at his beck, but with him or without him, at set 
 times, or at all times, when any danger threatened, to 
 have care of the public safety. Therefore saith Clau- 
 dius Sesell,a French statesman, " Thej)arliamentj;vas 
 set as a bridle to the king ; " which I instance rather, 
 " not because our English lawyers have not said the 
 same long before, but because that French monarchy 
 is granted by all to be a far more absolute one than 
 ours. That this and the rest of what hath hitherto 
 been spoken is most true, might be copiously made ap- 
 pear through all stories heathen and christian ; even of 
 those nations, where kings and emperors have sought 
 means to abolish all ancient memory of the people's 
 right by their encroachments and usurpations. But I 
 spare long insertions, appealing to the German, French, 
 Italian, Arragonian, English, and not least the Scot- 
 tish histories: n_ot^ forgetting this only by the way, 
 tliat William the Norman, though a conqueror, and 
 not unsworn at his coronation, was compelled, a second 
 tiinCj to tako oath at St. .\ll)aii'^. rri' tUv people would 
 be brou^-'it to vicld olirdirm   
 
 It being thus nianifcst, tliat tlio power of kings and 
 magistrates is nothing else, but what is only deriva- 
 tive, transferred and committed to them in trust from 
 the people to the common good of them all, in whom 
 the power yet remains fundamentally, and cannot be 
 taken from them, without a violation of their natural 
 birthright ; and seeing that from hence Aristotle, and 
 the best of political writers, have defined a king, " him 
 who governs to the good and profit of his people, and 
 not for his own ends;" it follows from necessary 
 causes, that the titles of sovereign lord, natural lord, 
 and the like, are either arrogancies, or flatteries, not 
 admitted by emperors and kings of best note, and dis- 
 liked by the church both of Jews (Isa. xxvi. 13,) and 
 ancient Christians, as appears by TertuUian and others. 
 Although generally the people of Asia, and with them 
 the Jews also, especially since the time they chose a 
 king against the advice and counsel of God, are noted v- 
 by wise authors much inclinable to slavery. y:^^ 
 
 Secondly, that to say, as is usual, the king hath as 
 good right to his crown and dignity, as any man to his 
 inheritance, is to make the subject no better than the 
 
234 
 
 THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 king's slave, his chattel, or his possession that may be 
 bought and sold : and doubtless, if hereditary title were 
 sufficiently inquired, the best foundation of it would be 
 found but either in courtesy or convenience. But sup- 
 pose it to be of right hereditary, what can be more 
 just and legal, if a subject for certain crimes be to for- 
 feit by law from himself and posterity all his inherit- 
 ance to the king, than that a king for crimes propor- 
 tional should forfeit all his title and inheritance to the 
 people ? Unless the people must be tliought created 
 all for him, he not for them, and they all in one body 
 inferior to him single; which were a kind of treason 
 against the dignity of mankind to affirm. 
 
 Thirdly, it follows, that, to say kings are accountable 
 to none but God, is the overturning of all law and go- 
 vernment. For if they may refuse to give account, 
 then all covenants made with them at coronation, all 
 oaths, are in vain, and mere mockeries ; all laws which 
 they swear to keep, made to no purpose : for if the king 
 fear not God, (as how many of them do not!) we hold 
 then our lives and estates by the tenure of his mere 
 grace and mercy, as from a god, not a mortal magis- 
 trate ; a position that none but court-parasites or men 
 besotted would maintain ! ' Aristotle therefore, whom 
 we commonly allow for one of the best interpreters of 
 nature and morality, writes in the fourth of his Politics, 
 chap. X. that " monarchy unaccountable, is the worst 
 sort of tyranny, and least of all to be endured by free- 
 bom men."' And surely no christian prince, not drunk 
 with high mind, and prouder than those pagan Cae- 
 sars that deified themselves, would arrogate so unrea- 
 sonably above human condition, or derogate so basely 
 from a whole nation of men his brethren, as if for him 
 only subsisting, and to serve his glory, valuing them 
 in comparison of his own brute will and pleasure no 
 more than so many beasts, or vermin under his feet, 
 not to be reasoned with, but to be trod on ; among 
 whom there might be found so many thousand men 
 for wisdom, virtue, nobleness of mind, and all other re- 
 spects but the fortune of his dignity, far above him. 
 Yet some would persuade us that this absurd opinion was 
 King David's, because in the 51st Psalm he cries out 
 to God, " Against thee only have I sinned ;" as if Da- 
 vid had imagined, that to murder Uriah and adulterate 
 his wife had been no sin against his neighbour, whenas 
 that law of Moses was to the king expressly, Deut. 
 xvii. not to think so highly of himself above his bre- 
 thren. David therefore by those words could mean 
 no other, than either that the depth of his guiltiness 
 was known to God only, or to so few as had not the 
 will or power to question him, or that the sin against 
 God was greater beyond compare than against Uriah. 
 Whatever his meaning were, any wise man will see, 
 that the pathetical words of a psalm can be no certain 
 decision to a point that hath abundantly more certain 
 rules to go by. How much more rationally spake the 
 heathen king Demophoon in a tragedy of Euripides, 
 than these interpreters would put upon King David ! 
 " I rule not my people by tyranny, as if they were bar- 
 barians, but am myself liable, if I do unjustly, to suf- 
 fer justly." Not unlike was the speech of Trajan the 
 
 worthy emperor, to one whom he made general of his 
 pnetorian forces : " Take this drawn sword," saith he, « 
 " to use for me, if I reign well ; if not, to use against 1 
 me." Thus Dion relates. And not Trajan only, but 
 Theodosius the younger, a christian emperor, and one 
 of the best, caused it to be enacted as a rule undeniable 
 and fit to be acknowledged by all kings and empe- 
 rors, that a prince is bound to the laws ; that on the 
 authority of law the authority of a prince depends, and 
 to the laws ought to submit. Which edict of his re- 
 mains yet unrepealed in the Code of Justinian, 1. 1. tit. 
 24, as a sacred constitution to all the succeeding em- 
 perors. How then can any king in Europe maintain 
 and write himself accountable to none but God, when 
 emperors in their own imperial statutes have written 
 and decreed themselves accountable to law ? And in- 
 deed where such account is not feared, he that bids a 
 man reign over him above law, may bid as well a sa- 
 vage beast. 
 
 It follows, lastly, that since the king or magistrate 
 holds his authority of the people, both originally and. 
 naturally for their good in the first place, and not his 
 own ; then may the people, as oft as they shall judge ; 
 it for the best, either choose hira or reject him, retain 
 him or depose him though no tyrant, merely by the 
 liberty and right of freeborn men to be governed as 
 seems to them best. This, though it cannot but stand 
 with plain reason, shall be made good also by Scripture, 
 Deut. xvii. 14, " When thou art come into the land, 
 w hich the Lord thy God giveth thee, and shalt say, I 
 will set a king over me, like as all the nations about 
 me." These words confirm us that the right of choosing, ] 
 yea of changing their own government, is by the grant 
 of God himself in the people. And therefore when 
 they desired a king, though then under another form 
 of government, and though their changing displeased 
 him, yet he that was himself their king, and rejected 
 by them, would not be a hinderance to what they in- 
 tended, further than by persuasion, but that they might 
 do therein as they saw good, 1 Sam. viii. only he re- : 
 served to himself the nomination of who should reign 
 over them. Neither did that exempt the king, as if he 
 were to God only accountable, though by his especial 
 command anointed. Therefore " David first made a 
 covenant with the elders of Israel, and so was by them 
 anointed king," 2 Sam. v. 3, 1 Chron. xi. And Jehoi- 
 ada the priest, making Jehoash king, made a covenant 
 between him and the people, 2 Kings xi. 17. There- j 
 fore when Roboam, at his coming to the crown, rejected I 
 those conditions, which the Israelites brought him, hear 
 what they answer him, " What portion have we in 
 David, or inheritance in the son of Jesse ? See to thine 
 own house, David." And for the like conditions not 
 performed, all Israel before that time deposed Samuel ; 
 not for his own default, but for the misgoveniment of 
 his sons. But some will say to both these examples, 
 it was evilly done. I answer, that not the latter, be- 
 cause it was expressly allowed them in the law, to set 
 up a king if they pleased ; and God himself joined with i 
 them in the work ; though in some sort it was at that ^ 
 time displeasing to him, in respect of old Samuel, who 
 
THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 235 
 
 had governed them uprig-htly. As Livy praises the 
 Romans, who took occasion from Tarqninius, a wicked 
 prince, to gain their liberty, which to have extorted, 
 saith he, from Numa, or any of the good kings before, 
 had not been seasonable. Nor was it in the former 
 example done unlawfully ; for when Roboam had pre- 
 pared a huge army to reduce the Israelites, he was 
 forbidden by the prophet, 1 Kings xii. 24, " Thus saith 
 the Lord, ye shall not go up, nor fight against your 
 brethren, for this thing is from me." He calls them 
 their brethren, not rebels, and forbids to be proceeded 
 against them, owning the thing himself, not by single 
 providence, but by approbation, and that not only of 
 the act, as in the former example, but of the fit season 
 also ; he had not otherwise forbid to molest them. 
 And those grave and wise counsellors, whom Rehoboam 
 first advised with, spake no such thing, as our old gray- 
 headed flatterers now are wont, stand upon your birth- 
 right, scorn to capitulate, you hold of God, not of them ; 
 for they knew no such matter, unless conditionally, 
 but gave him politic counsel, as in a civil transaction. 
 Therefore kingdom and magistracy, whether supreme 
 or subordinate, is called " a human ordinance," 1 Pet. 
 ii. 13, Sec. ; which we are there taught is the will of 
 God we should submit to, so far as for the punishment 
 of evil-doers, and the encouragement of them that do 
 well. " Submit," saith he, " as free men." " But to 
 any civil power unaccountable, unquestionable, and 
 not to be resisted, no not in wickedness, and violent 
 actions, how can we submit as free men ?" " There is 
 no power but of God," saith Paul, Rom. xiii. as much 
 as to say, God put it into man's heart to find out that 
 way at first for common peace and preservation, ap- 
 proving the exercise thereof; else it contradicts Peter, 
 who calls the same authority an ordinance of man. It 
 must be also understood of lawful and just power, else 
 we read of great power iu the aflTairs and kingdoms of 
 the world permitted to the devil : for saith he to Christ, 
 Luke iv. 6, all this power will I give thee, and the 
 glory of them, for it is delivered to me, and to whom- 
 soever I will, I give it : neither did he lie, or Christ 
 gainsay what he affirmed ; for in the thirteenth of the 
 Revelation, we read how the dragon gave to the beast 
 his power, his seat, and great authority : which beast 
 80 authorized most expound to be the tyrannical powers 
 and kingdoms of the earth. Therefore Saint Paul in 
 the forecited chapter tells us, that such magistrates he 
 means, as are not a terrour to the good, but to the evil, 
 such as bear not the sword in vain, but to punish of- 
 fenders, and to entourage the good. If such only be 
 mentioned here as powers to be obeyed, and our sub- 
 mission to them only required, then doubtless those 
 powers, that do the contrary, are no powers ordained 
 of God ; and by consequence no obligation laid upon 
 us to obey or not to resist them. And it may be well 
 observed, that both these apostles, whenever they give 
 this precept, express it in terms not concrete, but ab- 
 stract, as logicians are wont to speak ; that is, they 
 mention the ordinance, the power, the authority, before 
 the persons that execute it ; and what that power is, 
 lest we should be deceived, they describe exactly. So 
 
 that if the power be not such, or the person execute not 
 such power, neither the one nor the other is of God, 
 but of the devil, and by consequence to be resisted. 
 From this exposition Chrysostom also on the same place 
 dissents not ; explaining that these words were not 
 written in behalf of a tyrant. And this is verified by 
 David, himself a king, and likeliest to be the author 
 of the Psalm xciv. 20, which saith," Shall the throne 
 of iniquity have fellowship with thee i*" And it were 
 worth the knowing, since king^ in these days, and 
 that by Scripture, boast the justness of their title, 
 by holding it immediately of God, yet cannot shew 
 the time when God ever set on the throne them 
 or their forefathers, but only when the people chose 
 them ; why by the same reason, since God ascribes as 
 oft to himself the casting down of princes from the 
 throne, it should not be thought as lawful, and a.s much 
 from God, when none are seen to do it but the people, 
 and that for just causes. For if it needs must be a sin 
 in them to depose, it may as likely be a sin to have 
 elected. And contrary, if the people's act in election 
 be pleaded by a king, as the act of God, and the most 
 just title to enthrone him, why may not the people's 
 act of rejection be as well pleaded by the people as the 
 act of God, and the most just reason to depose him ? 
 So that we see the title and just right of reigning or 
 deposing in reference to God, is found in Scripture to 
 be all one ; visible only in the people, and depending 
 merely upon justice and demerit. Thus far hath been 
 considered chiefly the power of kings and magistrates; 
 how it was and is originally the people's, and by them 
 conferred in trust only to be employed to the common 
 peace and benefit; with liberty therefore and right re- 
 maining in them, to reassume it to themselves, if by 
 kings or magistrates it be abused ; or to dispose of it 
 by any alteration, as they shall judge most conducing 
 to the public good. 
 
 We may from hence with more ease and force of 
 argument determine what a tyrant is, and what the 
 people may do against him. A tyrant, whether by 
 wrong or by right coming to the crown, is he who, re- 
 garding neither law nor the common good, reigns only 
 for himself and his faction: thus St. Basil among 
 others defines him. And because his power is great, 
 his will boundless and exorbitant, the fulfilling whereof 
 is for the most part accompanied with innumerable 
 wrongs and oppressions of the people, murders, massa- 
 cres, rapes, adulteries, desolation, and subversion of 
 cities and whole provinces ; look how great a good and 
 happiness a just king is, so great a mischief is a tyrant; 
 as he the public father of his country, so this the com- 
 mon enemy. Against whom what the people lawfully 
 may do, as against a common pest, and destroyer of 
 mankind, I suppose no man of clear judgment need 
 go further to be guided than by the very principles of 
 nature in him. But because it is the vulgar folly of 
 men to desert their own reason, and shutting their eyes, 
 to think they see best with other men's, I shall shew 
 by such examples as ought to have most weight with 
 us, what hath been done in this case heretofore. The 
 Greeks and Romans, as their prime authors witness. 
 
299 
 
 THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 held it not onlj lawful, but a glorious and heroic deed, 
 rewarded publicly with statues and garlands, to kill an 
 infamous tyrant at any time without trial : and but 
 reason, that he, who trod down all law, should not be 
 vouchsafed the benefit of law. Insomuch that Seneca 
 the tragedian brings in Hercules, the grand suppressor 
 of tyrants, thus speaking; 
 
 Victima baud ulla amplior 
 
 Potest, magisquc opiraa mactari Juvi 
 Quam rex iuiquus 
 
 -There can be slain 
 
 No sacrifice to God more acceptable 
 Than an unjust and wicked king 
 
 But of these I name no more, lest it be objected they 
 were heathen ; and come to produce another sort o( 
 men, that had the knowledge of true religion. Among 
 the Jews this custom of tyrant-killing was not unusual. 
 First Ehud, a man whom God had raised to deliver 
 Israel from Eglon king of Moab, who had conquered 
 and ruled over them eighteen years, being sent to him 
 as an ambassador with a present, slew him in his own 
 house. But he was a foreign prince, an enemy, and 
 Ehud besides had special warrant from God. To the 
 first I answer, it imports not whether foreign or native: 
 for no prince so native but professes to hold by law ; 
 which when he himself overturns, breaking all the 
 covenants and oaths that gave him title to his dignity, 
 and were the bond and alliance between him and his 
 people, what diflfers he from an outlandish king, or 
 from an enemy ? For look how much right the king 
 of Spain hath to govern us at all, so much right hath 
 the king of England to govern us tyrannically. If 
 he, though not bound to us by any league, coming from 
 Spain in person to subdue us, or to destroy us, might 
 lawfully by the people of England either be slain in 
 fight, or put to death in captivity, what hath a native 
 king to plead, bound by so many covenants, benefits, 
 and honours, to the welfare of his people ; why he 
 through the contempt of all laws and parliaments, the 
 only tie of our obedience to him, for his own will's 
 sake, and a boasted prerogative unaccountable, after 
 seven years warring and destroying of his best subjects, 
 overcome, and yielded prisoner, should think to scape 
 unquestionable, as a thing divine, in respect of whom 
 so many thousand Christians destroyed should lie un- 
 accounted for, polluting with their slaughtered carcasses 
 all the land over, and crying for vengeance against 
 the living that should have righted them ? Who knows 
 not that there is a mutual bond of amity and brother- 
 hood between man and man over all the world, neither 
 is it the English sea that can sever us from that duty 
 and relation : a straiter bond yet there is between fel- 
 low-subjects, neighbours, and friends. But when any 
 of these do one to another so as hostility could do no 
 worse, what doth the law decree less against them, 
 than open enemies and invaders ? or if the law be not 
 present or too weak, what doth it warrant us to less 
 than single defence or civil war.-* and from that time 
 forward the law of civil defensive war differs nothing 
 
 from the law of foreign hostility. Nor is it distance of 
 place that makes enmity, but enmity that makes dis- 
 tance. He therefore that keeps peace with me, near 
 or remote, of whatsoever nation, is to me, as far as all 
 civil and human offices, an Englishman and a neigh- 
 bour: but if an Englishman, forgetting all laws, hu- 
 man, civil, and religious, oflend against life and liberty, 
 to him offended, and to the law in his behalf, though 
 boni in the same womb, he is no better than a Turk, a 
 Saracen, a heathen. This is gospel, and this was ever 
 law among equals; how much rather then in force 
 against any king whatever, who in respect of the peo- 
 ple is confessed inferior and not equal : to distinguish 
 therefore of a tyrant by outlandish, or domestic, is a 
 weak evasion. To the second, that he was an enemy; 
 I answer, what tyrant is not ? yet Eglon by the Jews 
 had been acknowledged as their sovereign, they had 
 served him eighteen years, as long almost as we our 
 William the Conqueror, in all which he could not be so 
 unwise a statesman, but to have taken of them oaths 
 of fealty and allegiance ; by which they made them- 
 selves his proper subjects, as their homage and present 
 sent by Ehud testified. To the third, that he had spe- 
 cial warrant to kill Eglon in that manner, it cannot be 
 granted, because not expressed ; it is ])lain, that he 
 was raised by God to be a deliverer, and went on just 
 principles, such as were then and ever held allowable 
 to deal so by a tyrant, that could no otherwise be dealt 
 with. Neither did Samuel, though a prophet, with his 
 own hand abstain from Agag ; a foreign enemy, no 
 doubt ; but mark the reason, " As thy sword hath 
 made women childless ;" a cause that by the sentence 
 of law itself nullifies all relations. And as the law is 
 between brother and brother, father and son, master 
 and servant, wherefore not between king, or rather ty- 
 rant, and people ? And whereas Jehu had special com- 
 mand to slay Jehoram a successive and hereditary 
 tyrant, it seems not the less imitable for that ; for 
 where a thing grounded so much on natural reason 
 hath the addition of a command from God, what does 
 it but establish the lawfulness of such an act ? Nor is 
 it likely that God, who had so many ways of punishing 
 the house of Ahab, would have sent a subject against 
 his prince, if the fact in itself, as done to a tyrant, had 
 been of bad example. And if David refused to lift his 
 hand against the Lord's anointed, the matter between 
 them was not tyranny, but private enmity, and David 
 as a private person had been his own revenger, not so 
 much the people's : but when any tyrant at this day 
 can shew himself to be the Lord's anointed, the only 
 mentioned reason why David withheld his hand, he 
 may then, but not till then, presume on the same pri- 
 vilege. 
 
 We may pass therefore hence to christian times. 
 And first our Saviour himself, how much he favoured 
 tyrants, and how mucii intended they should be found 
 or honoured among Christians, declared his mind not 
 obscurely ; accounting their absolute authority no bet- 
 ter than Gentilism, yea though they flourished it over 
 with the splendid name of benefactors ; charging those 
 that would be his disciples to usurp no such dominion ; 
 
THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 237 
 
 but that they, who were to be of most authority among 
 them, should esteem tliemselves ministers and servants 
 to the public. Matt. xx. 25, " The princes of the Gen- 
 tiles exercise lordship over them ; and Mark x, 42, 
 " They that seem to rule," saith he, either slighting or 
 accounting them no lawful rulers ; " but ye shall not 
 be so, but the greatest among you shall be your ser- 
 vant." And although he himself were the meekest, 
 and came on earth to be so, yet to a tyrant we hear him 
 not vouchsafe an humble word : but, " Tell that fox," 
 Luke xiii. " So far we ought to be from thinking that 
 Christ and his gospel should be made a sanctuary for 
 tyrants from justice, to whom his law before never 
 gave such protection." And wherefore did his mother 
 the virgin Mary give such praise to God in her pro- 
 phetic song, that he had now by the coming of Christ, 
 cut down dynastas, or proud monarchs, from the throne, 
 if the church, when God manifests his power in them 
 to do so, should ratlier choose all misery and vassalage 
 to serve them, and let them still sit on their potent 
 seats to be adored for doing mischief? Surely it is not 
 for nothing, that tyrants by a kind of natural instinct 
 both hate and fear none more than the true church and 
 saints of God, as the most dangerous enemies and sub- 
 verters of monarchy, though indeed of tyranny; hath 
 not this been the perpetual cry of courtiers and court- 
 prelates? whereof no likelier cause can be alleged, but 
 that they well discerned the mind and principles of 
 most devout and zealous men, and indeed the very 
 discipline of church, tending to the dissolution of all 
 tyranny. No marvel then if since the faith of Christ 
 received, in purer or impurer times, to depose a king 
 and put him to death for tyranny, hath been accounted 
 so just and requisite, that neighbour kings have both 
 upheld and taken part with subjects in the action. 
 And Ludovicus Pius, himself an emperor, and son of 
 Charles the Great, being made judge (du Haillan is 
 my author) between Milegast king of the Vultzes and 
 his subjects who had deposed liim, gave his verdict for 
 the subjects, and for him whom they had chosen in his 
 room. Note here, that the right of electing whom 
 they please is by the impartial testimony of an em- 
 peror in the people : for, said he, " A just prince ought 
 to be preferred before an unjust, and the end of govern- 
 ment before the prerogative." And Constantinus Leo, 
 another emperor, in the Byzantine laws saith, " That 
 the end of a king is for the general good, which he not 
 performing, is but the counterfeit of a king." And to 
 prove, that some of our own monarchs have acknow- 
 ledged, that their high office exempted them not from 
 punishment, they had the sword of St. Edward borne 
 before them by an officer, who was called earl of the 
 palace, even at the times of their highest pomp and 
 solemnities ; to mind them, saith Matthew Paris, the 
 best of our historians, " that if they erred, the sword 
 had power to restrain them." And what restraint the 
 sword comes to at length, having both edge and point, 
 if any sceptic will doubt, let him feel. It is also affirmed 
 from diligent search made in our ancient books of law, 
 that the peers and barons of England had a legal right 
 to judge the king: which was the cause most likely, 
 
 (for it could be no slight cause,) that tliey were called 
 his peers, or equals. This however may stand im- 
 movable, so long as man hath to deal with no better 
 than man ; that if our law judge all men to the lowest 
 by their peers, it should in all equity ascend also, and 
 judge the highest. And so much I find both in our 
 own and foreign story, that dukes, earls, and mar- 
 quisses were at first not hereditary, not empty and 
 vain titles, but names of trust and office, and with the 
 office ceasing; as induces me to be of opinion, that 
 every worthy man in parliament, (for the word baron 
 imports no more,) might for the public good be 
 thought a fit peer and judge of the king ; without re- 
 gard had to petty caveats and circumstances, the chief 
 impediment in high affairs, and ever stood upon most by 
 circumstantial men. Whence doubtless our ancestors 
 who were not ignorant with what rights either nature 
 or ancient constitution had endowed them, when oaths 
 both at coronation and renewed in parliament would 
 not serve, thought it no way illegal, to depose and put 
 to death their tyrannous kings. Insomuch that the 
 parliament drew up a charge against Richard the Se- 
 cond, and the commons requested to have judgment 
 decreed against him, that the realm might not be en- 
 dangered. And Peter Martyr, a divine of foremost 
 rank, on the third of Judges approves their doings. Sir 
 Thomas Smith also, a protestant and a statesman, in 
 his Commonwealth of England, putting the question, 
 " whether it be lawful to rise against a tyrant;" an- 
 swers, " that the vulgar .judge of it according to the 
 event, and the learned according to the purpo.se of 
 tliem that do it." But far before those days Gildas, 
 the most ancient of all our historians, speaking of those 
 times wherein the Roman empire decaying quitted and 
 relinquished what right they had by conquest to this 
 island, and resigned it all into the people's hands, tes- 
 tifies that the people thus reinvested with their own 
 original right, about the year 446, both elected them 
 kings, whom they thought best, (the first christian Bri- 
 tish kings that ever reigned here since the Romans,) 
 and by the same right, when they apprehended cause, 
 usually deposed and put them to death. This is the 
 most fundamental and ancient tenure, that any king of 
 England can produce or pretend to ; in comparison of 
 which, all other titles and pleas are but of yesterday. 
 If any object, that Gildas condemns the Britons for so 
 doing, the answer is as ready ; that he condemns them 
 no more for so doing, than he did before for choosing 
 such ; for saith he, " They anointed them kings, not 
 of God, but such as were more bloody than the rest." 
 Next, he condemns them not at all for deposing or 
 putting them to death, but for doing it overhastily, 
 without trial or well examining the cause, and for 
 electing others worse in their room. Thus we have 
 here both domestic and most ancient examples, that the 
 people of Britain have deposed and put to death their 
 kings in those primitive christian times. And to couple 
 reason with example, if the church in all ages, primi- 
 tive, Romish, or protestant, held it ever no less their 
 duty than the power of their keys, though without ex- 
 press warrant of Scripture, to bring indifferently both 
 
23» 
 
 THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 king' and peasant under the utmost rifrour of their 
 canons and censures ecclesiastical, even to the sinitin|r 
 him Mith a final cxcoininunion, if he persist inipi- 
 nitent : what hinders, hut that the temporal law hoth 
 may and oui^ht, thouirh without a special text or pre- 
 cedent, extend with like indiilerence the civil sword, 
 to the cuttinn;' off, without exemption, him that capitally 
 offends, seeing tliat justice and relij^ion are from the 
 same God, and works of justice ofttimes more accept- 
 able ? Yet because that some lately with the tongues 
 and arguments of malignant backsliders have written, 
 that the proceedings now in parliament against the 
 king arc without precedent from any protestant slate 
 or kingdom, the examples which follow shall be all 
 protestant, and chiefly presbyterian. 
 
 In the year 1546, the duke of Saxony, landgrave of 
 Hesse, and the whole protestant league, raised open 
 war against Charles the Fifth their emperor, sent him 
 a defiance, renounced all faith and allegiance toward 
 bim, and debated long in council, whether they should 
 give him so much as the title of Caesar. Sleidan. 1. 17. 
 Let all men judge what this wanted of deposing or of 
 killing, but the power to do it. 
 
 In the year 1559, the Scots protestants claiming pro- 
 mise of their queen-regent for liberty of conscience, 
 she answering, that promises were not to be claimed 
 of princes beyond what was commodious for them to 
 grant, told her to her face in the parliament then at 
 Stirling, that if it were so, they renounced their obe- 
 dience ; and soon after betook them to arms. Buchanan 
 Hist 1. 16. Certainly, when allegiance is renounced, 
 that very hour the king or queen is in effect deposed. 
 
 In the year 1564, John Knox, a most famous divine, 
 and the reformer of Scotland to the presbyterian disci- 
 pline, at a general assembly maintained openly in a 
 dispute against Lethington the secretary of state, that 
 subjects might and ought to execute God's judgments 
 upon their king; that the fact of Jehu and others 
 against their king, having the ground of God's ordi- 
 nary command to put such and such offenders to death, 
 was not extraordinary, but to be imitated of all that 
 preferred the honour of God to the affection of flesh 
 and wicked princes; that kings, if they offend, have 
 no privilege to be exempted from the punishments of 
 law more than any other subject : so that if the king 
 be a murderer, adulterer, or idolater, he should suffer, 
 not as a king, but as an offender; and this position he 
 repeats again and again before them. Answerable was 
 the opinion of John Craig, another learned divine, and 
 that laws made by the tyranny of princes, or the neg- 
 ligence of people, their posterity might abrogate, and 
 reform all things according to the original institution 
 of commonwealths. And Knox, being commanded by 
 the nobility to write to Calvin and other learned men 
 for their judgments in that question, refused ; alleging, 
 that both himself was fully resolved in conscience, and 
 had heard their judgments, and had the same opinion 
 under handwriting of many the most godly and most 
 learned that he knew in Europe ; that if he should 
 move the question to them again, what should he do 
 but shew his own forgetfulncis or inconstancy .'' All 
 
 this is far more largely in the ecclesiastic history of 
 Scotland, 1. 4, with many other passages to this effect 
 all the book over, set out with diligence by Scots- 
 men of best repute among them at the beginning of 
 these troubles; as if they laboured to inform us what 
 we were to do, and what they intended upon the like 
 occasion. 
 
 And to let the world know, that the whole church 
 and protestant state of Scotland in those purest times 
 of reformation were of the same belief, three years 
 after, they met in the field Mary their lawful and he- 
 reditary queen, took her prisoner, yielding before fight 
 kept her in prison, and the same year deposed her. 
 Buchan. Hist. 1. 18. 
 
 And four years after that, the Scots, in justification 
 of their deposing Queen Mary, sent ambassadors to 
 Queen Elizabeth, and in a written declaration alleged, 
 that they had used towards her more lenity than slie de- 
 served ; that their ancestors had heretofore punished 
 their kings by death or banishment ; that the Scots 
 were a free nation, made king whom they freely chose, 
 and with the same freedom unkinged him if they saw 
 cause, by right of ancient laws and ceremonies yet re- 
 maining, and old customs yet among the highland- 
 ers in choosing the head of their clans, or families ; all 
 which, with many other arguments, bore witness, that 
 regal power was nothing else but a mutual covenant or 
 stipulation between king and people. Buch. Hist. L 
 20. These were Scotsmen and presbyterians : but 
 what measure then have they lately offered, to think 
 such liberty less beseeming us than themselves, pre- 
 suming to put him upon us for a master, whom their 
 law scarce allows to be their own equal ? If now then 
 we hear them in another strain than heretofore in the 
 purest times of their church, we may be confident it is 
 the voice of faction speaking in them, not of truth and 
 reformation. " Which no less in England than in 
 Scotland, by the mouths of those faithful witnesses 
 commonly called puritans and nonconformists, spake 
 as clearly for the putting down, yea, the utmost punish- 
 ing, of kings, as in their several treatises may be read ; 
 even from the fii-st reign of Elizabeth to these times. 
 Insomuch that one of them, whose name was Gibson, 
 foretold King James, he should be rooted out, and con- 
 clude his race, if he persisted to uphold bishops. And 
 that very inscription, stamped upon the first coins at 
 his coronation, a naked sword in a hand with these 
 words, " Si mereor, in me," " Against me, if I deserve," 
 not only manifested the judgment of that state, but 
 seemed also to presage the sentence of divine justice in 
 this event upon his son. 
 
 In the year 1581, the states of Holland, in a general 
 assembly at the Hague, abjured all obedience and sub- 
 jection to Philip king of Spain ; and in a declaration 
 justify their so doing; for that by his tyrannous go- 
 vernment, against faith so many times given and bro- 
 ken, he had lost his right to all the Bolgic provinces; 
 that therefore they deposed him, and declared it lawful 
 to choose another in his stead. Thuan. 1. 74. From 
 that time to this, no state or kingdom in the world hath 
 equally prospered : but let them remember not to look 
 
THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 239 
 
 M'ith an evil and prejudicial eye upon their neighbours 
 walking by the same rule. 
 
 But what need these examples to presbyterians, I 
 mean to those who now of late would seem so much to 
 abhor deposing, whenas they to all Christendom have 
 given the latest and the liveliest example of doing it 
 themselves? I question not the lawfulness of raising 
 war against a tyrant in defence of religion, or civil li- 
 berty ; for no protestant church, from the first Walden- 
 ses of Lyons and Languedoc to this day, but have done 
 it round, and maintained it lawful. But this I doubt 
 not to affirm, that the presbyterians, who now so much 
 condemn deposing, were the men themselves that de- 
 posed the king, and cannot, with all their shifting and 
 relapsing, wash off the guiltiness from their own hands. 
 For they themselves, by these their late doings, have 
 made it guiltiness, and turned their own warrantable 
 actions into rebellion. 
 
 There is nothing, that so actually makes a king of 
 England, as rightful possession and supremacy in all 
 Causes both Civil and Ecclesiastical : and nothing that 
 so actually makes a subject of England, as those two 
 oaths of allegiance and supremacy observed without 
 equivocating, or any mental reservation. Out of doubt 
 then when the king shall command things already con- 
 stituted in church or state, obedience is the true essence 
 of a subject, either to do, if it be lawful, or if he hold 
 the thing unlawful, to submit to that penalty which 
 the law imposes, so long as he intends to remain a sub- 
 ject. Therefore when the people, or any pari of them, 
 shall rise against the king and his authority, executing 
 the law in anything established, civil or ecclesiastical, 
 I do not say it is rebellion, if the thing commanded 
 though established be unlawful, and that they sought 
 first all due means of redress (and no man is further 
 bound to law ) ; but I say it is an absolute renouncing 
 both of supremacy and allegiance, which in one word 
 is an actual and total deposing of the king, and the set- 
 ting up of another supreme authority over them. And 
 whether the presbyterians have not done all this and 
 much more, they will not put me, I suppose, to reckon 
 up a seven years story fresh in the memory of all men. 
 Have they not utterly broke the oath of allegiance, re- 
 jecting the king's command and authority sent them 
 from any part of tlie kingdom, whether in things law- 
 ful or unlawful? Have they not abjured the oath of 
 supremacy, by setting up the parliament without the 
 king, supreme to all their obedience ; and though their 
 vow and covenant bound them in general to the par- 
 liament, yet sometimes adhering to the lesser part of 
 lords and commons that remained faithful, as they term 
 it, and even of them, one while to the commons with- 
 out the lords, another while to the lords without the 
 commons ? Have they not still declared their mean- 
 ing, whatever their oath were, to hold them only for 
 supreme, whom they found at any time most yielding 
 to what they petitioned ? Both these oaths, which 
 were the straitest bond of an English subject in refer- 
 ence to the king, being thus broke and made void ; it 
 follows undeniably, that the king from that lime was 
 by them in fact absolutely deposed, and they no longer 
 
 in reality to be thought his subjects, notwithstanding 
 their fine clause in the covenant to preserve his person, 
 crown, and dignity, set there by some dodging casuist 
 with more craft than sincerity, to mitigate the matter 
 in case of ill success, and not taken, I suppose, by any 
 honest man, but as a condition subordinate to every 
 the least particle, that might more concern religion, 
 liberty, or the public peace. 
 
 To prove it yet more plainly, that they are the men 
 who have deposed the king, I thus argue. We know, 
 that king and subject are relatives, and relatives have 
 no longer being than in the relation ; the relation be- 
 tween king and subject can be no other than regal au- 
 thority and subjection. Hence I infer past their de- 
 fending, that if the subject, who is one relative, take 
 away the relation, of force he takes away also the 
 other relative : but the presbyterians, who were one 
 relative, that is to say, subjects, have for this seven 
 years taken away, the relation, that is to say, the 
 king's authority, and their subjection to it; therefore 
 the presbyterians for these seven years have removed 
 and extinguished the other relative, that is to say, 
 the king; or to speak more in brief, have deposed him; 
 not only by depriving him the execution of his autho- 
 rity, but by conferring it upon others. If then their 
 oaths of subjection broken, new supremacy obeyed, new 
 oaths and covenant taken, notwithstanding frivolous 
 evasions, have in plain terms unkinged the king, much 
 more then hath their seven years war, not deposed him 
 only, but outlawed him, and defied him as an alien, a 
 rebel to law, and enemy to the state. It must needs be 
 clear to any man not averse from reason, that hostility 
 and subjection are two direct and positive contraries, 
 and can no more in one subject stand together in re- 
 spect of the same king, than one person at the same 
 time can be in two remote places. Against whom 
 therefore the subject is in act of hostility, we may be 
 confident, that to him be is in no subjection : and in 
 whom hostility takes place of subjection, for they can 
 by no means consist together, to him the king can be 
 not only no king, but an enemy. So that from hence 
 we shall not need dispute, whether they have deposed 
 him, or what they have defaulted towards him as no 
 king, but shew manifestly how much they have done 
 toward the killing him. Have they not levied all these 
 wars against him, whether offensive or defensive, (for 
 defence in war equally offends, and most prudently be- 
 forehand,) and given commission to slay, where they 
 knew his person could not be exempt from danger ? 
 And if chance or flight had not saved him, how often 
 had they killed him, directing their artillery, without 
 blame or prohibition, to the very place where they saw 
 him stand ? Have they not sequestered him, judged or 
 unjudged, and converted his revenue to other uses, de- 
 taining from him, as a grand delinquent, all means of 
 livelihood, so that for them long since he might have 
 perished, or have starved? Have they not hunted and 
 pursued him round about the kingdom with sword and 
 fire ? Have they not formerly denied to treat with him, 
 and their now recanting ministers preached against him, 
 as a reprobate incurable, an enemy to God and his 
 
240 
 
 THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 church, marked for destruction, and therefore not to be 
 treated with ? Have they not besieged him, and to their 
 power forbid him water and fire, save what they shot 
 agtiinst him to the hazard of his life ? Vet while they 
 thus assaulted and endangered it with hostile deeds, 
 they swore in words to defend it with his crown and 
 dignity ; not in order, as it seems now, to a firm and 
 lasting peace, or to his repentance after ail this blood ; 
 but simply, without regard, without remorse or any 
 comparable value of all the miseries and calamities 
 suffered by the poor people, or to suffer hereafter, 
 through his obstinacy or impenitence. No understand- 
 ing man can be ignorant, that covenants are ever made 
 according to the present state of persons and of things; 
 and have ever the more general laws of nature and of 
 reason included in them, though not expressed. If I 
 make a voluntary covenant, as with a man to do him 
 good, and he prove afterward a monster to me, I should 
 conceive a disobligement. If I covenant, not to hurt 
 an enemy, in favour of him and forbearance, and hope 
 of his amendment, and he, after that, shall do me ten- 
 fold injury and mischief to what he had done when I 
 so covenanted, and still be plotting what may tend to 
 my destruction, I question not but that his after-actions 
 release me ; nor know I covenant so sacred, that with- 
 holds me from demanding justice on him. Howbeit, 
 had not their distrust in a good cause, and the fast and 
 loose of our prevaricating divines, overswayed, it had 
 been doubtless better, not to have inserted in a covenant 
 unnecessary obligations, and words, not works of super- 
 erog^ting allegiance to their enemy ; no way advan- 
 tageous to themselves, had the king prevailed, as to 
 their cost many would have felt ; but full of snare and 
 distraction to our friends, useful only, as we now fin.l, 
 to our adversaries, who under such a latitude and 
 shelter of ambiguous interpretation have ever since 
 been plotting and contriving new opportunities to 
 trouble all again. How much better had it been, and 
 more becoming an undaunted virtue, to have declared 
 openly and boldly whom and what power the people 
 were to hold supreme, as on the like occasion protestants 
 have done before, and many conscientious men now in 
 these times have more than once besought the parlia- 
 ment to do, that they might go on upon a sure founda- 
 tion, and not with a riddling covenant in their mouths, 
 seeming to swear counter, almost in the same breath, 
 allegiance and no allegiance; which doubtless had 
 drawn off all the minds of sincere men from siding with 
 them, had they not discerned their actions far more 
 deposing him tlian their words upholding him ; which 
 words, made now the subject of cavillous interpreta- 
 tions, stood ever in the covenant, by judgment of the 
 more discerning sort, an evidence of their fear, not of 
 their fidelity. What should I return to speak on, of 
 those attempts for which the king himself hath often 
 charged the presbyterians of seeking his life, whenas 
 in the due estimation of things they might without a 
 fallacy be said to have done the deed outright ? Who 
 knows not, that the king is a name of dignity and 
 office, not of person ? Who therefore kills a king, must 
 kill him while he is a king. Then they certainly, who 
 
 by deposing him have long since taken from him the 
 life of a king, his office and his dignity, they iu the 
 truest sense may be said to have killed the king : not 
 only by their deposing and waging war against him, 
 which, besides the danger to his personal life, set him 
 in the farthest opposite point from any vital function 
 of a king, but by their holding him in prison, vanquished 
 and yielded into their absolute and despotic power, 
 which brought him to the lowest degradement and in- 
 capacity of the regal name. I say not by whose 
 matchless valour next under God, l^t the story of their 
 ingratitude thereupon carry me fro^ the purpose in 
 hand, which is to convince them, that they, which I 
 repeat again, were the men who iu the truest sense 
 killed the king, not only as is proved before, but by 
 depressing him their king far below the rank of a sub- 
 ject to the condition of a captive, without intention to re- 
 store him, as the chancellor of Scotland in a speech told 
 him plainly at Newcastle, unless he granted fully all 
 their demands, which they knew he never meant. Nor 
 did they treat, or think of treating, with him, till their 
 hatred to the army that delivered them, not their love 
 or duty to the king, joined them secretly with men 
 sentenced so oft for reprobates in their own mouths, by 
 whose subtle inspiring they grew mad upon a most 
 tardy and improper treaty. Whereas if the whole bent 
 of their actions had not been against the king himself, 
 but only against his evil counsellors, as they feigned, 
 and published, wherefore did they not restore him all 
 that while to the true life of a king, his office, crown, 
 and dignity, when he was in their power, and they 
 themselves his nearest counsellors ? The truth therefore 
 is, both that they would not, and that indeed they could 
 not without their own certain destruction, having re- 
 duced him to such a final pass, as was tlie very death 
 and burial of all in him that was regal, and from 
 whence never king of England yet revived, but by the 
 new reinforcement of his own party, which was a kind 
 of resurrection to him. Thus having quite extinguish- 
 ed all that could be in him of a king, and from a total 
 privation clad him over, like another specifical thing, 
 with forms and habitudes destructive to the former, 
 they left in his person, dead as to law and all the civil 
 right either of king or subject, the life only of a pri- 
 soner, a captive, and a malefactor : whom the equal 
 and impartial hand of justice finding, was no more to 
 spare than another ordinary man ; not only made ob- 
 noxious to the doom of law by a charge more than 
 once drawn up against him, and his own confession to 
 the first article at Newport, but summoned and arraigned 
 in the sight of God and his people, cursed and devoted 
 to perdition worse than any Ahab, or Antiochus, with 
 exhortation to curse all those in the name of God, that 
 made not war against him, as bitterly as Meroz was 
 to be cursed, that went not out against a Canaanitish 
 king, almost in all the sermons, prayers, and fulmina- 
 tions, that have been uttered this seven years by those 
 cloven tongues of falsehood and dissension, who now, 
 to the stirring up of new discord, acquit him ; and 
 against their own discipline, which they boast to be the 
 throne and sceptre of Christ, absolve him, unconfound 
 
THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 241 
 
 him, though unconverted, unrepentant, unsensible of 
 all their precious saints and martyrs, whose blood they 
 have so oft laid upon his head : and now again with a 
 new sovereign anointment can wash it all off, as if it 
 were as vile, and no more to be reckoned for than the 
 blood of so many dogs in a time of j)estilence : giving 
 the most opprobrious lie to all the acted zeal, that for 
 these many years hath filled their bellies, and fed them 
 fat upon the foolish people. Ministers of seditioi^ not 
 of the gospel, who, while they saw it manifestly tend 
 to civil war and bloodshed, never ceased exasperating 
 the people against him ; and now, that they see it 
 likely to breed new commotion, cease not to incite 
 others against the people, that have saved them from 
 
 *■ him, as if sedition ^ere their only aim, whether against 
 
 •^ him or for him.'i^ut God, as we have cause to trust, 
 will put other thoughts into the people, and turn them 
 from giving ear or heed to these mercenary noise- 
 makers, of whose fury and false prophecies we have 
 enough experience; and from the murmurs of new 
 discord will incline them, to hearken rather with erected 
 
 \'"^\piinds to the voice of our supreme magistracy, culling 
 us to liberty, and the flourishing deeds of a reformed 
 commonwealth ; with this hope, that as God was here- 
 
 ) tofbre angry with the Jews who rejected him and his 
 form of government to choose a king, so that he will 
 bless us, and be propitious to us, who reject a king to 
 make him only our leader, and supreme governor, in 
 the conformity as near as may be of his own ancient 
 government; if we have at least but so much worth in 
 /us to entertain the sense of our future happiness, and 
 
 ^ the courage to receive what God vouchsafes us : wherein 
 we have the honour to precede other nations, who are 
 now labouring to be our followers. . Fo"!^ ^^ ^^ this 
 question in hand, what the people by their just right 
 may do in change of government, or of governor, we 
 see it cleared sufficiently; besides other ample author- 
 itj', even from the mouths of princes themselves. And 
 surely they that shall boast, as we do, to be a free na- 
 
 vHion, and not have in themselves the power to remove 
 
 ' or to abolish any governor supreme, or subordinate, 
 with the government itself upon urgent causes, may 
 please their fancy with a ridiculous and painted free- 
 dom, fit to cozen babies ; but are indeed under tyranny 
 and servitude ; as wanting that power, which is the 
 root and source of all liberty, to dispose and oeconomize 
 in the land which God hath given them, as masters of 
 family in tlieir own house and free inheritance. With- 
 out which natural and essential power of a free nation, 
 though bearing high their heads, ihey can in due esteem 
 be thought no better than slaves and vassals born, in 
 the tenure and occupation of another inheriting lord. 
 Whose government, though not illegal, or intolerable, 
 hangs over them as a lordly scourge, not as a free go- 
 vernment; and therefore to be abrogated. How much 
 more justly then may they fling off" tyranny, or tyrants; 
 who being once deposed can be no more than private 
 men, as subject to the reach of justice and arraignment 
 as any other transgressors ? And certainly if men, not 
 to speak of heathen, both wise and religious, have done 
 justice upon tyrants what way they could soonest, how 
 
 much more mild and humane then is it, to give them 
 fair and open trial ; to teach lawless kings, and all who 
 so much adore them, that not mortal man, or his im- 
 perious will, but justice, is the only true sovereign and 
 supreme majesty upon earth ? Let men cease therefore, 
 out of faction and hypocrisy, to make outcries and hor- 
 rid things of things so just and honourable. ' Though 
 perhaps till now, no protestant state or kingdom can 
 be alleged to have openly put to death their king, 
 which lately some have written, and imputed to their 
 great glory ; much mistaking the matter. It is not, 
 neither ought to be, the glory of a protestant state, never 
 to have put their king to death ; it is the glory of a 
 protestant king never to have deserved deatli.' And if 
 the parliament and military council do what they do 
 without precedent, if it appear their duty, it argues the 
 more wisdom, virtue, and magnanimity, that they know 
 themselves able to be a precedent to others. Who per- 
 haps in future ages, if they prove not too degenerate, 
 will look up with honour, and aspire toward these ex- 
 emplary and matchless deeds of their ancestors, as to the 
 highest top of their civil glory and emulation. Which 
 heretofore, in the pursuance of fame and foreign domi- 
 nion, spent itself vaingloriously abroad ; but henceforth 
 may learn a better fortitude, to dare execute highest 
 justice on them, that shall by force of arms endeavour the 
 oppressing and bereaving of religion and their liberty 
 at home: that no unbridled potentate or tyrant, but to 
 his sorrow, for the future may presume such high and 
 irresponsible licence over mankind, to havoc and tuni 
 upside down whole kingdoms of men, as though they 
 were no more in respect of his perverse will than a na- 
 tion of pismires. . As for the party called presbyterian, 
 of whom I believe very many to be good and faithful 
 Christians, though misled by some of turbulent spirit, 
 I_wish them, earnestly and calmly, not to fall off" from 
 their first principles, nor to aff'ect rigour and superior- 
 ity over men not under them ; n^tto compel unforcihle 
 things, in religion especially, which, if not voluntary, 
 becomes a sin ; not to assist the clamour and malicious 
 drifts of men, whom they themselves have judged to be 
 the worst of men, the obdurate enemies of God and his 
 church : nor to dart against the actions of their bre- 
 thren, for want of other argument, those wrested laws 
 and scriptures thrown by prelates and malignants 
 against their own sides, which, though they hurt not 
 otherwise, yet taken up by them to the condemnation 
 of their own doings, give scandal to all men, and dis- 
 cover in themselves either extreme passion or apos- 
 tacy. Let them not oppose their best friends and asso; 
 ciates, who molest them not at all, infringe not the 
 least of their liberties, unless they call it their liberty 
 to bind other men's consciences, but are still seeking 
 to live at peace with them and brotherly accord. Let 
 them beware an old and perfect enemy, who, though 
 he hope by sowing discord to make them his instru- 
 ments, yet cannot forbear a minute the open threaten- 
 ing of his destined revenge upon them, when they 
 have served his purposes. Let them fear therefore, if 
 they be wise, rather what they have done already, than 
 what remains to do, and be warned in time they put no^ 
 
Stt 
 
 THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 confidence in princes whom tbey have provoked, lest 
 they be added to the examples of those that miserably 
 have tasted the event. , Stories can inform them liow 
 Christicni the lid, kinff of Denmark, not much above 
 a hundred years past, driven out by his subjects, and 
 received a^ain upon new oaths and conditions, broke 
 through them all to his most bloody revenge ; slaying 
 his chief opposers, when he saw his time, both them 
 and their children, invited to a feast for that purpose. 
 How Maximilian dealt with those of Bruges, though 
 by mediation of the German princes reconciled to them 
 by solemn and public writings drawn and sealed. 
 How the massacre at Paris was the effect of that cre- 
 dulous peace, which the French protestants made with 
 Charles the IX, their king: and that the main visible 
 cause, which to this day hath saved the Netherlands 
 from utter ruin, was their final not believing the per- 
 fidious cruelty, which as a constant maxim of state 
 hath been used by the Spanish kings on their subjects 
 that have taken arras, and after trusted them ; as no 
 latter age but can testify, heretofore in Belgia itself, 
 and this very year in Naples. And to conclude with 
 one past exception, though far more ancient, David, 
 whose sanctified prudence might be alone sufficient, 
 not to warrant us only, but to instruct us, when once 
 he had taken arms, never after that trusted Saul, though 
 with tears and much relenting he twice promised not 
 to hurt him. These instances, few of many, might ad- 
 monish them, both English and Scotch, not to let their 
 own ends, and the driving on of a faction, betray them 
 blindly into the snare of those enemies, whose revenge 
 looks on them as the men who first begun, fomented, 
 and carried on beyond the cure of any sound or safe ac- 
 commodation, all the evil which hath since unavoid- 
 ably befallen them and their king. _ 
 
 I have something also to the divines, though brief 
 to what were needful ; not to be disturbers of the civil 
 affairs, being in hands better able and more belonging 
 to manage them ; but to study harder, and to attend the 
 office of good pastors, knowing that he, whose flock is 
 least among them, hath a dreadful charge, not per- 
 formed by mounting twice into the chair with a formal 
 preachment huddled up at the odd hours of a whole 
 lazy week, but by incessant pains and watching in sea- 
 son and out of season, from house to house, over the 
 souls of whom they have to feed. Which if they ever 
 well considered, how little leisure would they find, to 
 be the most pragmatical sidesmen of every popular tu- 
 mult and sedition ! And all this while are to learn 
 what the true end and reason is of the gospel which 
 they teach; and what a world it differs from the cen- 
 sorious and supercilious lording over conscience. It 
 would be good also they lived so as might persuade 
 the people they hated covetousness, which, worse than 
 heresy, is idolatry ; hated pluralities, and all kind of 
 simony ; left rambling from benefice to benefice, like 
 ravenous wolves seeking where they may devour the 
 biggest. Of which if some, well and warmly seated 
 from the beginning, be not guilty, it were good they 
 
 * All tint follows, to the end of this tract, was left out not only in the 
 •dition printed 1733, in 2 voU. folio, but in that of Mr. Toland, who hrst 
 
 held not conversation with such as are : let them be 
 sorry, that, being calle<] to assemble about reforming 
 the church, they fell to progging and soliciting the 
 parliament, though they had renounced the name of 
 priests, for a new settling of their tithes and oblations ; 
 and double-lined themselves with spiritual places of 
 commodity beyond the possible discharge of their duty. 
 Let them assemble in consistory with their elders and 
 deacons, according to ancient ecclesiastical rule, to tlie 
 preserving of church discipline, each in his several 
 charge, and not a pack of clergymen by themselves to 
 belly-cheer in their presumptuous Sion, or to promote 
 designs, abuse and gull the simple laity, and stir up 
 tumult, as the prelates did, for the maintenance of their 
 pride and avarice. These things if they observe, and 
 wait with patience, no doubt but all things will go well 
 without their importunities or exclamations : and the 
 printed letters, which they send subscribed with the 
 ostentation of great characters and little moment, would 
 be more considerable than now they are. But if they 
 be the ministers of mammon instead of Christ, and 
 scandalize his church with the filthy love of gain, as- 
 piring also to sit the closest and the heaviest of all ty- 
 rants upon the conscience, and fall notoriously into the 
 same sins, whereof so lately and so loud they accused 
 the prelates ; as God rooted out those wicked ones im- 
 mediately before, so will he root out them their imita- 
 tors : and to vindicate his own glory and religion, will 
 uncover their hypocrisy to the open world ; and visit 
 upon their own heads that " curse ye Meroz," the very 
 motto of their pulpits, wherewith so frequently, not as 
 Meroz, but more like atheists, they have blasphemed 
 the vengeance of God, and traduced the zeal of his 
 people. 
 
 ' * And that they be not what they go for, true mi- 
 nisters of the protestant doctrine, taught by those 
 abroad, famous and religious men, who first reformed 
 the church, or by those no less zealous, who withstood 
 corruption and the bishops here at home, branded with 
 the name of puritans and nonconformists, we shall 
 abound with testimonies to make appear: that men 
 may yet more fully know the diflTerence between pro- 
 testant divines, and these pulpit-firebrands. 
 
 ' Luther. Lib. contra rusticos apud Sleidan. I. 5. 
 
 ' Is est hodie rerum status, &c. " Such is the state 
 of things at this day, that men neither can, nor will, 
 nor indeed ought to endure longer the domination of 
 you princes." 
 
 ' Neque vero Caesarera, &c. " Neither is Caesar to 
 make war as head of Christendom, protector of the 
 church, defender of the faith ; these titles being false 
 and windy, and most kings being the greatest enemies 
 to religion." Lib. de Bello contra Turcas, apud Sleid. 
 1. 14. What hinders then, but that we may depose or 
 punish them ? 
 
 ' These also are recited by Cochlseus in his Miscel- 
 lanies to be the words of Luther, or some other eminent 
 divine, then in Germany, when tlie protestants there 
 
 collected the author's work* : how thi« omission arose, the reader will Me 
 in a note at the txginning of this tract, page SSI. 
 
THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 243 
 
 entered into solemn covenant at Smalcaldia. Ut ora 
 iis obturem, &c. " That I may stop their mouths, the 
 pope and emperor are not born, but elected, and may 
 also be deposed as hath been often done." If Luther, 
 or whoever else, thought so, he could not stay there ; 
 for the right of birth or succession can be no privilege 
 in nature, to let a tyrant sit irremovable over a nation 
 freeborn, without transforming that nation from the 
 nature and condition of men bom free, into natural, 
 hereditary, and successive slaves. Therefore he saith 
 further ; " To displace and throw down this exactor, 
 this Phalaris, this Nero, is a work pleasing to God ;" 
 namely, for being such a one : which is a moral reason. 
 Shall then so slight a consideration as his hap to be 
 not elective simply, but by birth, which was a mere ac- 
 cident, overthrow that which is moral, and make un- 
 pleasing to God that which otherwise had so well 
 pleased him.'' Certainly not: for if the matter be rightly 
 argued, election, much rather than chance, binds a man 
 to content himself with what he suffers by his own bad 
 election. Though indeed neither the one nor other 
 binds any man, much less any peoj)le, to a necessary 
 sufferance of those wrongs and evils, which they have 
 ability and strength enough gfiven them to remove. 
 
 ' Zwinglius, tom. 1, articul. 42. 
 
 ' Quando vero perfide, &c. " When kings reign 
 perfidiously, and against the rule of Christ, they may 
 according to the word of God be deposed." 
 
 ' Mihi ergo compertum non est, &c. " I know not 
 how it comes to pass, that kings reign by succession, 
 unless it be with consent of the whole people." Ibid. 
 
 " Quum vero consensu, &c. " But when by suflrage 
 and consent of the whole people, or the better part of 
 them, a tyrant is deposed or put to death, God is the 
 chief leader in that action." Ibid. 
 
 ' Nunc cum tarn tepidi sumus, &c. " Now that we 
 are so lukewarm in upholding public justice, we endure 
 the vices of tyrants to reign now-a-days with impunity ; 
 justly therefore by them we are trod underfoot, and 
 shall at length with them be punished. Yet ways are 
 not wanting by which tyrants may be removed, but 
 there wants public justice." Ibid. 
 
 ' Cavete vobis 6 tyranni. " Beware, ye tyrants ! 
 for now the gospel of Jesus Christ, spreading far and 
 wide, will renew the lives of many to love innocence 
 and justice; which if ye also shall do, ye shall be hon- 
 oured. But if ye shall go on to rage and do violence, 
 ye shall be trampled on by all men." Ibid. 
 
 " Romanum imperium imo quodque, &c. " When 
 the Roman empire, or any other, shall begin to oppress 
 religion, and we negligently suffer it, we are as much 
 guilty of religion so violated, as tlie oppressors them- 
 selves." Idem, Epist. ad Conrad. Somium. 
 
 * Calvin on Daniel, c. iv. v. 25. 
 
 ' Hodie monarchse semper in suis titulis, bcc. " Now- 
 a-days monarchs pretend always in their titles, to be 
 kings by the grace of God : but how many of them to 
 this end only pretend it, that they may reign without 
 control ! for to what purpose is the grace of God men- 
 
 tioned in the title of kings, but that they may acknow- 
 ledge ^no superior .'* In the mean while God, whose 
 name they use to support themselves, they willingly 
 would tread under their feet. It is therefore a mere 
 cheat, when they boast to reign by the grace of God." 
 ' Abdicant se terreni principes, &c. " Earthly 
 princes depose themselves, while they rise against 
 God, yea they are unworthy to be numbered among 
 men : rather it behoves us to spit upon their heads, 
 than to obey them." On Dan. c. vi. v. 22. 
 
 ' Bucer on Matth. c. v. 
 
 ' Si princeps superior, &c. " If a sovereign prince 
 endeavour by arms to defend transgressors, to subvert 
 those things which are taught in the word of God, they, 
 who are in authority under him, ought first to dissuade 
 him ; if they prevail not, and that he now bears him- 
 self not as a prince but as an enemy, and seeks to vio- 
 late privileges and rights granted to inferior magistrates 
 or commonalties, it is the part of pious magistrates, 
 imploring first the assistance of God, rather to try all 
 ways and means, than to betray the flock of Christ to 
 such an enemy of God : for they also are to this end 
 ordained, that they may defend the people of God, and 
 maintain those things which are good and just. For 
 to have supreme power lessens not the evil committed 
 by that power, but makes it the less tolerable, by how 
 much the more generally hurtful. Then certainly the 
 less tolerable, the more unpardonably to be punished." 
 
 * Of Peter Martyr we have spoke before. 
 
 ' Parseus in Rom. xiii. 
 
 ' Quorum est constituere magistratus, &c. " They 
 whose part is to set up magistrates, may restrain them 
 also from outrageous deeds, or pull them down ; but 
 all magistrates are set up cither by parliament or by 
 electors, or by other magistrates ; they, therefore, who 
 exalted them may lawfully degrade and punish them." 
 
 ' Of the Scots divines I need not mention others than 
 the famousest among them, Knox, and his fellow-la- 
 bourers in the reformation of Scotland ; whose large 
 treatise on this subject defend the same opinion. To 
 cite them sufficiently, were to insert their whole books, 
 written purposely on this argument. "Knox's Ap- 
 peal ;" and to the reader ; where he promises in a post- 
 script, that the book which he intended to set forth, 
 called, "The Second Blast of the Trumpet," sliould 
 maintain more at large, that the same men most justly 
 may depose and punish him whom unadvisedly they 
 have elected, notwithstanding birth, succession, or any 
 oath of allegiance. Among our own divines. Cart- 
 wright and Fenner, two of the learnedest, may in rea- 
 son satisfy us what was held by the rest. Fenner in 
 his book of Theology maintaining, that they who have 
 power, that is to say, a parliament, may either by fair 
 means or by force depose a tyrant, whom he defines to 
 be him, that wilfully breaks all or the principal con- 
 ditions made between him and the commonwealth. 
 Fen. Sac. Theolog. c. 13. And Cartwright in a pre- 
 fixed epistle testifies bis approbation of the whole book. 
 
 m 
 
244 
 
 THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 ' Gilb>- de Obcdientia, p. 25 and 106. 
 
 " Kiiiofs have their authority of the people, who may 
 upon occasion reassume it to themselves." 
 
 ' England's Complaint against the Canons. 
 
 " The people may kill wicked princes as monsters 
 and cruel beasts." 
 
 ' Christopher Goodman of Obedience. 
 
 "When kings or rulers become blasphemers of God, 
 oppressors and murderers of their subjects, they ought 
 no more to be accounted kings or lawful magistrates, 
 but as private men to be examined, accused, and con- 
 demned and punished by the law of God, and being 
 convicted and punished by that law, it is not man's 
 but God's doing." C. x. p. 139. 
 
 "By the civil laws, a fool or idiot bom, and so 
 proved, shall lose the lands and inheritance whereto he 
 is bom, because he is not able to use them aright: and 
 especially ought in no case be suffered to have the go- 
 vernment of a whole nation ; but there is no such evil 
 can come to the commonwealth by fools and idiots, as 
 doth by the rage and fury of ungodly rulers ; such, 
 therefore, being without God, ought to have no author- 
 ity over God's people, who by his word requireth the 
 contrary." C. xi. p. 143, 144. 
 
 " No person is exempt by any law of God from this 
 punishment: be he king, queen, or emperor, he must 
 die the death ; for God hath not placed them above 
 others, to transgress his laws as they list, but to be 
 subject to them as well as others ; and if they be sub- 
 ject to his laws, then to the punishment also, so much 
 the more as their example is more dangerous." C. xiii. 
 p. 184. 
 
 " When magistrates cease to do their duty, the peo- 
 ple are as it were without magistrates, yea, worse, and 
 then God g^veth the sword into the people's hand, and 
 he himself is become immediately their head." P. 185. 
 
 "If princes do right, and keep promise with you, 
 then do you owe to them all humble obedience ; if not, 
 ye are discharged, and your study ought to be in this 
 case how ye may depose and punish according to the 
 law such rebels against God, and oppressors of their 
 country." P. 190. 
 
 ' This Goodman was a minister of the English 
 church at Geneva, as Dudley Fenner was at Middle- 
 burgh, or some other place in that country. These 
 were the pastors of those saints and confessors, who, 
 flying from the bloody persecution of Queen Mary, 
 gathered up at length their scattered members into 
 many 'congregations ; whereof some in upper, some in 
 lower Germany, part of them settled at Geneva; where 
 this author having preached on this subject to the great 
 liking of certain learned and godly men who heard him, 
 was by them sundry times and with much instance re- 
 quired to write more fully on that point. Who thereupon 
 took it in hand, and conferring with the best learned 
 in those parts, (among whom Calvin was then living 
 in the same city,) with their special approbation he 
 published this tre&tise, aiming principally, as is testi- 
 fied by Wbitllu^am in the preface, that his brethren 
 
 of England, the protestants, might be persuaded in 
 the truth of that doctrine concerning obedience to ma- 
 gistrates. Whittingham in Prefat. 
 
 'These were the true protestant divines of England, 
 our fathers in tlie faith we hold; this was their sense, 
 who for so many yeai^s labouring under prelacy, through 
 all storms and persecutions kept religion from extin- 
 guishing; and delivered it pure to us, till there arose 
 a covetous and ambitious generation of divines, (for di- 
 vines they call themselves !) who, feigning on a sudden 
 to be new converts and proselytes from episcopacy, un- 
 der which they had long temporised, opened theirmouths 
 at length, in shew against pluralities and prelacy, but 
 with intent to swallow them down both ; gorging them- 
 selves like harpies on those simonious places and pre- 
 ferments of tlieir outed predecessors, as the quarry fur 
 which they hunted, not to plurality only but to multi- 
 plicity ; for possessing which they had accused them 
 their brethren, and aspiring under another title to the 
 same authority and usurpation over the consciences of 
 all men. 
 
 ' Of this faction, diverse reverend and learned divines 
 (as they are styled in the philactery of their own title- 
 page) pleading the lawfulness of defensive arms against 
 the king, in a treatise called " Scripture and Reason," 
 seem in words to disclaim utterly the deposing of a 
 king; but both the Scripture, and the reasons which 
 they use, draw consequences after them, which, without 
 their bidding, conclude it lawful. For if by Scripture, 
 and by that especially to the Romans, which they most 
 insist upon, kings, doing that which is contrary to 
 Saint Paul's definition of a magistrate, may be resisted, 
 they may altogether with as much force of consequence 
 be deposed or punished. And if by reason the unjust 
 authority of kings " may be forfeited in part, and his 
 power be reassumed in part, either by the parliament 
 or people, for the case in hazard and the present neces- 
 sity," as they affirm, p. 34, there can no scripture be 
 alleged, no imaginable reason given, that necessity 
 continuing, as it may always, and they in all prudence 
 and their duty may take upon them to foresee it, why 
 in such a case they may not finally amerce him with 
 the loss of his kingdom, of whose amendment they 
 have no hope. And if one wicked action persisted in 
 against religion, laws, and liberties, may warrant us to 
 thus much in part, why may not forty times as many 
 tyrannies, by him committed, warrant us to proceed on 
 restraining him, till the restraint become total ? For 
 the ways of justice are exactest proportion ; if for one 
 trespass of a king it require so much remedy or satis- 
 faction, then for twenty more as heinous crimes, it re- 
 quires of him twenty-fold ; and so proportion ably, till 
 it come to what is utmost among men. If in these 
 proceedings against their king they may not finish, by 
 the usual course of justice, what they have begun, they 
 could not lawfully begin at all. For this golden rulej 
 of justice and morality, as well as of arithmetic, out of 
 three terms which they admit, will as certainly nndj 
 unavoidably bring out the fouilh, as any problem that] 
 ever Euclid or Apollonius made good by demonstration.'] 
 
 ' And if the parliament, being undeposable but bj 
 
THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 245 
 
 1' 
 
 themselves, as is affirmed, p. 37, 38, might for his 
 whole life, if they saw cause, take all power, authority, 
 and the sword out of his hand, which in effect is to 
 unmagistrate him, why might they not, being then 
 themselves the sole magistrates in force, proceed to 
 punish him, who, being lawfully deprived of all things 
 that define a magistrate, can be now no magistrate to 
 be degraded lower, but an offender to be punished. 
 Lastly, whom they may defy, and meet in battle, why 
 may they not as well prosecute by justice ? For lawful 
 war is but the execution of justice against them who 
 refuse law. Among whom if it be lawful (as they 
 deny not, p. 19, 20,) to slay the king himself coming 
 in front at his own peril, wherefore may not justice do 
 that intendedly, which the chance of a defensive war 
 might without blame have done casually, nay pur- 
 posely, if there it find him among the rest? They ask, 
 p. 19, " By what rule of conscience or God, a state is 
 bound to sacrifice religion, laws, and liberties, rather 
 than a prince defending such as subvert them, should 
 come in hazard of his life." And I ask by what con- 
 science, or divinity, or law, or reason, a state is bound 
 to leave all these sacred concernments under a per- 
 petual hazard and extremity of danger, rather than cut 
 off a wicked prince, who sits plotting day and night to 
 subvert them.^ They tell us, that the law of nature 
 j ustifi es any man to defend himself, even against the 
 king in person : let them shew us then, why the same 
 law may not justify much more a state or whole people, 
 to do justice upon him, against whom each private 
 man may lawfully defend himself; seeing all kind of 
 justice done is a defence to good men, as well as a 
 punishment to bad ; and justice done upon a tyrant is 
 no more but the necessary self-defence of a whole com- 
 monwealth. To war upon a king, that his instruments 
 may be brought to condign punishment, and thereafter 
 to punish them the instruments, and not to spare only^ 
 but to defend and honour him the author, is the strangest 
 piece_of justice to be called christian, an^ the strangest 
 piece of reason to be called human, that by men of re- 
 verence and learning, as their style imports them, ever 
 yet was vented. They maintain in the third and fourth 
 section, that a judge or inferior magistrate is anointed 
 of God, is his minister, hath the sword in his hand, is 
 to be obeyed by St. Peter's rule, as well as the supreme, 
 and without difference any where expressed : and yet 
 will have us fight against the supreme till he remove 
 and punish the inferior magistrate (for such were great- 
 est delinquents); whenas by Scripture, and by reason, 
 there can no more authority be shewn to resist the one 
 than the other; and altogether as much, to punish or 
 depose the supreme himself, as to make war upon him, 
 till he punish or deliver up his inferior magistrates, 
 whom in the same terms we are commanded to obey, 
 and not to resist. , Thus while they, in a cautious line 
 or two here and there stuffed in, are only verbal against 
 the pulling down orpunishingof tyrants, all the Scrip- 
 ture and the reason, which they bring, is in every leaf 
 direct and rational, to infer it altogether as lawful, as 
 to resist them. And yet in all their sermons, as hath 
 by others been well noted^ they went much further. 
 
 For divines, if we observe them, have their postures, 
 and their motions no less expertly, and with no less 
 variety, than they that practise feats in the Artillery- 
 ground. Sometimes they seem furiously to march on, 
 and presently march counter; by and by they stand, 
 and then retreat ; or if need be can face about, or 
 wheel in a whole body, with that cunning and dex- 
 terity as is almost unperceivable; to wind themselves 
 hy shifting ground into places of more advantage. 
 And providence only must be the drum, providence the 
 word of command, that calls them from above, but 
 always to some larger benefice, or acts them into such 
 or such figures and promotions. At tlieir turns and 
 doublings no men readier, to the right, or to the left ; 
 for it is their turns which they serve chiefly ; herein only 
 singular, that with them there is no certain hand right 
 or left, but as their own commodity thinks best to call 
 it. But if there come a truth to be defended, which to 
 them and their interest of this world seems not so pro- 
 fitable, straight these nimble motionists can find no 
 even legs to stand upon ; and are no more of use to 
 reformation thoroughly performed, and not superfi- 
 cially, or to the advancement of truth, (which among 
 mortal men is always in her progress,) than if on a 
 sudden they were struck maim and crippled. , Which 
 the better to conceal, or the more to countenance by a 
 general conformity to their own limping, they would 
 have Scripture, they would have reason also made to 
 halt with them for company ; and would put us off 
 with im^M>tent conclusions, lame and shorter than the 
 premises.>< In this posture they seem to stand with 
 great zeal and confidence on the wall of Sion ; but like 
 Jebusites, not like Israelites, or Levites : blind also 
 as well as lame, they discern not David from Adoni- 
 bezec : but cry him up for the Lord's anointed, whose 
 thumbs and great toes not long before they had cut 
 off upon their pulpit cushions. Therefore he who is 
 our only king, the root of David, and whose kingdom 
 is eternal righteousness, witli all those that war 
 under him, w hose happiness and final hopes are laid 
 up in that only just and rightful kingdom, (which we 
 pray incessantly may come soon, and in so praying 
 wish hasty ruin and destruction to all tyrants,) even he 
 our immortal King, and all that love him, must of ne- 
 cessity have in abomination these blind and lame de- 
 fenders of Jerusalem ; as the soul of David hated them, 
 and forbid them entrance into God's house, and his 
 own. But as to those before them, which I cited first 
 (and with an easy search, for many more might be 
 added) as they there stand, without more in number, 
 being the best and chief of protestant divines, we may 
 follow them for faithful guides, and without doubting 
 may receive them, as witnesses abundant of what we 
 here affirm concerning tyrants. And indeed I find it 
 generally the clear and positive determination of them 
 all, (not prelatical, or of this late faction subprelatical,) 
 who have written on this argument; that to do justice 
 on a lawless king, is to a private man unlawful ; to an 
 inferior magistrate lawful : or if they were divided in 
 opinion, yet greater than these here alleged, or of more 
 authority in the church, there can be none produced. \ 
 
246 
 
 THE TENURE OF KINGS AND MAGISTRATES. 
 
 If any one shall go about by bringing' other testimonies 
 to disable these, ur by bringing these against themselves 
 in other cited passages of their books, he will not only 
 fail to make good that false and impudent assertion of 
 those mutinous ministers, that the deposing and pu- 
 nishing of a king or tyrant " is against the constant 
 judgment of all protestant divines," it being quite the 
 contrary ; but will prove rather what perhaps he in- 
 tended not, that the judgment of divines, if it be so 
 various and inconstant to itself, is not considerable, or 
 to be esteemed at all. Ere which be yielded, as I hope 
 it never will, these ignorant assertors in their own art 
 will have proved tliemselves more and more, not tojbe 
 protestant divines, whose constant judgment in this 
 point they have so audaciously belied, but rather to be 
 a pack of hungry church-wolves, who in the steps of 
 
 Simon Magus their father following the hot scent of 
 double livings and pluralitie.s, advowsons, donatives, 
 inductions, and augmentations, though uncalled to the 
 flock of Christ, but by the mere suggestion of their 
 bellies, like those priests of Bel, whose pranks Daniel 
 found out ; have got possession, or rather seized upon 
 the pulpit, as the strong hold and fortress of their sedi- 
 tion and rebellion against the civil magistrate. Whose 
 friendly and victorious hand having rescued them from 
 the bishops their insulting lords, fed them plenteously, 
 both in public and in private, raised them to be high 
 and rich of poor and base; only suffered not their 
 covctousness and 6erce ambition (which as the pit that 
 sent out their fellow-locusts hath been ever bottomless 
 and boundless) to interpose in all things, and over all 
 persons, their impetuous ignorance and importunity.' 
 
OBSERVATIONS 
 
 THE ARTICLES OF PEACE, 
 
 BETWEEN JAMES EABL OF ORMOITD FOB KING CHABLKS THE FIRST ON THE ONE HAND, AND THB IBI8H REBELS AND PAPISTS ON 
 
 THE OTHER HAND : 
 
 AND ON A LETTER SENT BY ORMOND TO COLONEL JONES, GOVERNOR OF DUBLIN- AND A BBPRESBRTATIOK OP THE SCOTS PBBSBy- 
 
 TBRY AT BELFAST IN IRELAND. 
 
 To which the said Articles, Letter, with Colonel Jones's Aiuwer to it, and Representatitm, ^c. arc prefixed. 
 
 [riKIT PUBLUHU) 1618-9.] 
 
 A PROCLAMATION. 
 
 ORMOND, 
 Whereas articles of peace are made, coucluded, ac- 
 corded, and agreed upon, by aud between us, James 
 lord marquis of Ormoiid, lord lieutenant-general, and 
 general governor of liis majesty's kingdom of Ireland, 
 by virtue of tbe authority wherewith we are intrusted, 
 for, and on the behalf of his most excellent majesty on 
 the one part, and the general assembly of the Roman 
 Catholics of the said kingdom, for, and on the behalf 
 of his majesty's Roman Catholic subjects of the same, 
 on the other part ; a true copy of which articles of peace 
 arc hereunto annexed : we the lord lieutenant do, by 
 this proclamation, in his majesty's name publish the 
 same, and do in his majesty's name strictly charge and 
 command all his majesty's subjects, and all others in- 
 habiting or residing within his majesty's said kingdom 
 of Ii-eland, to take notice thereof, and to render due 
 obedience to the same in all the parts thereof. 
 
 And as his majesty hath been induced to this peace, 
 out of a deep sense of the miseries and calamities 
 brought upon this his kingdom and people, and out of 
 hope conceived by his majesty, that it may prevent the 
 further effusion of his subjects' blood, redeem them out 
 of all the miseries and calamities, under which they now 
 suffer, restore them to all quietness aud happiness under 
 his majesty's most gracious government, deliver the 
 kingdom in general from those slaughters, depredations, 
 rapines, and spoils, which always accompany a war, 
 encourage the subjects and others with comfort to be- 
 take themselves to trade, traffic, commerce, manufac- 
 ture, and all other things, which uninterrupted may in- 
 crease the wealth and strength of the kingdom, beget 
 in all his majesty's subjects of this kingdom a perfect 
 
 unity amongst themselves, after the too long continued 
 division amongst them : so his majesty assures himself, 
 that al! his subjects of this his kingdom (duly consider- 
 ing the great and inestimable benefits which they may 
 find in this peace) will with all duty render due obedi- 
 ence thereunto. And we, in his majesty's name, do 
 hereby declare. That all persons, so rendering due 
 obedience to the said peace, shall be protected, cherished, 
 countenanced, and supported by his majesty, and his 
 royal authority, according to the true intent and mean- 
 ing of the said articles of peace. 
 
 """"^nXjlTi^"''' ^^^ SAVE THE KING. 
 
 Articles of -peace, made, concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between his excellency James 
 lord marquis of Ormond, lord lieutenant-general, 
 and general of his majesty's kingdom of Ireland, for, 
 and on the behalf of, his most excellent majesty, by 
 virtue of the authority wherewith the said lord lieu- 
 tenant is intrusted^ on the one part : and the general 
 assembly of Roman Catholics of the said kingdom, 
 for and on the behalf of his majesty's Homan 
 Catholic subjects of the same, on the other part. 
 
 His majesty's Roman Catholic subjects, as thereunto 
 bound by allegiance, duty, and nature, do most humbly 
 and freely acknowledge and recognise their sovereign 
 lord king Charles, to be lawful and undoubted king of 
 this kingdom of Ireland, and other his highness' realms 
 and dominions : and his majesty's said Roman Catholic 
 subjects, apprehending with a deep sense the sad con- 
 dition whereunto his majesty is reduced, as a further 
 testimony of their loyalty do declare, that they and 
 their posterity for ever, to the utmost of their power>, 
 
248 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 even to the expense of their blood and fortunes, will 
 maintain and uphold his niajestv, lii> licirs and lawful 
 successors, their rijfhts, prerogalivts, {government, and 
 authority, and thereunto freely and heartily will render 
 all due obedience. 
 
 Of which faithful and loyal recogfnition and declara- 
 tion, so seasonably made by the said Roman Catholics, 
 his majesty is graciously pleased to accept, and accord- 
 ingly to own them his loyal and dutiful subjects : and 
 is further graciously pleased, to extend unto them the 
 following graces and securities. 
 
 I. Imprimis, it is concluded, accorded, and agreed 
 upon, by and between the said lord lieutenant, for, and 
 ou the behalf of his most excellent majesty, and the 
 said general assembly, for, and on the behalf of the 
 said Roman Catholic subjects ; and his majesty is 
 graciously pleased. That it shall be enacted by act to 
 be passed in the next parliament to be held in this 
 kingdom, that all and every the professors of the Ro- 
 man Catholic religion, within the said kingdom, shall 
 be free and exempt from all mulcts, penalties, restraints, 
 and inhibitions, that are or may be imposed upon them 
 by any law, statute, usage, or custom Avhatsoever, for, 
 or concerning the free exercise of the Roman Catholic 
 religion : and that it shall be likewise enacted. That 
 the said Roman Catholics, or any of them, shall not be 
 questioned or molested in their persons, goods, or estates, 
 for any matter or cause whatsoever, for, concerning, or 
 by reason of the free exercise of their religion, by vir- 
 tue of any power, authority, statute, law, or usage what- 
 soever : and that it shall be further enacted, That no 
 Roman Catholic in this kingdom shall be compelled 
 to exercise any religion, form of devotion, or divine 
 service, other than such as shall be agreeable to their 
 conscience ; and that they shall not be prejudiced or 
 molested in their persons, goods, or estates, for not ob- 
 serving, using, or hearing the book of common prayer, 
 or any other form of devotion or divine service, by 
 virtue of any colour or statute made in the second year 
 of queen Elizabeth, or by virtue or colour of any other 
 law, declaration of law, statute, custom, or usage what- 
 soever, made or declared, or to be made or declared : 
 and that it shall be further enacted, that the professors 
 of the Roman Catholic religion, or any of them, be not 
 bound or obliged to take the oath, commonly called 
 the oath of Supremacy, expressed in the statute of 2 
 Elizabeth, c. 1, or in any other statute or statutes : and 
 that the said oath shall not be tendered unto them, and 
 that the refusal of the said oath shall not redound to 
 the prejudice of them, or any of them, they taking the 
 oath of allegiance in hsec verba, viz. " I A. B. do here- 
 by acknowledge, profess, testify, and declare in my 
 conscience, before God and the world, that our sove- 
 reign lord king Charles is lawful and rightful king of 
 this realm, and of other his majesty's dominions and 
 countries ; and I will bear faith and true allegiance to 
 his majesty, and his heirs and successors, and him and 
 them will defend to the uttermost of my power against 
 all conspiracies and attempts whatsoever, which shall 
 be made against bis or their crown and dignity ; and 
 do my best endeavour to disclose and make known to 
 
 his majesty, his heirs and successors, or to the lord de- 
 puty, or other his majesty's chief governor or governors 
 for the time being, all treason or traiterous conspira- 
 cies, which I shall know or hear to be intended against 
 his majesty, or any of them : and I do make this re- 
 cognition and acknowledgment, heartily, willingly, 
 and truly, upon the true faith of a Christian ; so help 
 me God," &c. Nevertheless, the said lord lieutenant 
 doth not hereby intend, that any thing in these conces- 
 sions contained shall extend, or be construed to extend, 
 to the granting of churches, church-livings, or the ex- 
 ercise of jurisdiction, the authority of the said lord 
 lieutenant not extending so far; yet the said lord lieu- 
 tenant is authorized to give the said Roman Catholics 
 full assurance, as hereby the said lord lieutenant doth 
 give unto the said Roman Catholics full assurance, 
 that they or any of them shall not be molested in 
 the possession which they have at present of the 
 churches or church-livings, or of the exercise of their 
 respective jurisdictions, as they now exercise the same, 
 until such time as his majesty, upon a full considera- 
 tion of the desires of the said Roman Catholics in a 
 free parliament to be held in this kingdom, shall de- 
 clare his further pleasure. 
 
 II. Item, It is concluded, accorded, and agreed 
 upon, by and between the said parties, and his majesty 
 is furtlier graciously pleased, that a free parliament 
 shall be held in this kingdom within six months after 
 the date of these articles of peace, or as soon after as 
 Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord presi- 
 dent of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, 
 Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel 
 esquire, sir Lucas Dillon knight, sir Nicholas Piunket 
 knight, sir Richard Barnwall baronet, Jeffery Brown, 
 Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah Neile, Miles Reily, 
 and Gerraid Fennell, esquires, or the major part of 
 them, will desire the same, so that by possibility it may 
 be held ; and that in the mean time, and until the ar- 
 ticles of these presents, agreed to be passed in parlia- 
 ment, be accordingly passed, the same shall be inviola- 
 bly observed as to the matters therein contained, as if 
 they were enacted in parliament : and that in case a 
 parliament be not called and held in this kingdom 
 within two years next after tlie date of these articles 
 of peace, then his majesty's lord lieutenant, or other 
 his majesty's chief governor or governors of this king- 
 dom for the time being, will, at the request of the said 
 Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord pre- 
 sident of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, 
 Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel 
 esquire, sir Lucas Dillon knight, sir Nicholas Piunket 
 knight, sir Richard Barnwall baronet, Jeffery Brown, 
 Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles Reily, 
 and Gerraid Fennell, esquires, or the major part of 
 them, call a general assembly of the lords and com- 
 mons of this kingdom, to attend upon the said lord 
 lieutenant, or other his majesty's chief governor or go- 
 vernors of this kingdom for tlie time being, in such 
 convenient pla e, for the belter settling of the affairs of 
 the kingdom. And it is further concluded, accorded, 
 and agreed upon, by and between the said parties, that 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 249 
 
 all matters, that by these articles are agreed upon to be 
 passed in parliament, shall be transmitted into Eng- 
 land, according to the usual form, to be passed in the 
 said parliament, and that the said acts so agreed upon, 
 and so to be passed, shall receive no disjunction or 
 alteration here in England ; provided that nothing 
 shall be concluded by both or either of the said houses 
 of parliament, which may bring prejudice to any of 
 his majesty's protestant party, or their adherents, or to 
 his majesty's Roman Catholic subjects, or their adhe- 
 rents, other than such things as upon this treaty are 
 concluded to be done, or such things as may be proper 
 for the committee of privileges of either or both houses 
 to take cognizance of, as in such cases heretofore hath 
 been accustomed ; and other than such matters as his 
 majesty will be graciously pleased to declare his fur- 
 ther pleasure in, to be passed in parliament for the 
 satisfaction of his subjects ; and other than such things 
 as shall be propounded to either or both bouses by his 
 majesty's lord lieutenant or other chief governor or 
 governors of this kingdom for the time being, during 
 the said parliament, for the advancement of his majes- 
 ty's service, and the peace of the kingdom ; which clause 
 is to admit no construction which may trench upon the 
 articles of peace or any of them ; and that both liouses 
 of parliament may consider what they shall think con- 
 venient touching the repeal or suspension of the statute, 
 commonly called Poyning's Act, intitled, An Act that 
 no parliament be holden in that land, until the Acts be 
 certiiied into England. 
 
 III. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is graciously pleased, that all acts, ordinances, 
 and orders, made by both or either houses of par- 
 liament, to the blemish, dishonour, or prejudice of his 
 majesty's Roman Catholic subjects of this kingdom, or 
 any of them, since the 7th August 1641, shall be va- 
 cated ; and that the same, and all exemplifications and 
 other acts which continue the memory of them, be 
 made void by act to be passed in the next parliament 
 to be held in this kingdom : and that in the mean time 
 the said acts or ordinances, or any of them, shall be no 
 prejudice to the said Roman Catholics, or any of them. 
 
 IV. Item, It is also concluded, and agreed upon, 
 and his majesty is likewise graciously pleased, that all 
 indictments, attainders, outlawries in this kingdom, 
 and all the processes and other proceedings thereupon, 
 and all letters patents, grants, leases, customs, bonds, 
 recognizances, and all records, act or acts, office or 
 offices, inquisitions, and all other tlnngs depending, 
 upon, or taken by reason of the said indictments, at- 
 tainders, or outlawries, since the 7th day of August, 
 1641, in prejudice of the said Catholics, their heirs, ex- 
 ecutors, administrators, or assigns, or any of them, or 
 the widows of them, or any of them, shall be vacated 
 and made void in such sort as no memory shall remain 
 thereof, to the blemish, dishonour, or prejudice of the 
 said Catholics, their heirs, executors, administrators, or 
 assigns, or any of them ; or the widows of them, or any 
 of them ; and that to be done when the said Thomas 
 lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord president of 
 
 Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis 
 lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donncl esquire, 
 sir Lucas Dillon knight, sir Nicholas Plunket knight, 
 sir Richard Bamwall baronet, Jeffery Brown, Donnogh 
 O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neal, Miles Reilie, and Ger- 
 rald Fennell, esquires, or the major part of them, shall 
 desire the same, so that by possibility it may be done : 
 and in the mean time, that no such indictments, attain- 
 ders, outlawries, processes, or any other proceedings 
 thereupon, or any letters patents, grants, leases, custo- 
 diums, bonds, recognizances, or any record or acts, 
 office or offices, inquisitions, or any other thing depend- 
 ing upon, or by reason of tlie said indictments, attain- 
 ders, or outlawries, shall in any sort prejudice the said 
 Roman Catholics, or any of them, but that they and 
 every of them shall be forthwith, upon perfection of 
 these articles, restored to their respective possessions 
 and hereditaments respectivelj' ; provided, that no man 
 shall be questioned, by reason hereof, for mesne rates 
 or wastes, saving wilful wastes committed after the first 
 day of May last past. 
 
 V. Item, It is likewise concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed ; and his majesty is graciously pleased, that as 
 soon as possible may be, all impediments, which may 
 hinder the said Roman Catholics to sit or vote in the 
 next intended parliament, or to choose, or to be chosen, 
 knights and burgesses, to sit or vote there, shall be re- 
 moved, and that before the said parliament. 
 
 VI. Item, It is concluded, accorded, and agreed 
 upon, and his majesty is further graciously pleased, 
 that all debts shall remain as they were upon the 
 twenty-third of October, 1641. Notwithstanding any 
 disposition made or to be made, by virtue or colour of 
 any attainder, outlawry, fugacy, or other forfeiture ; 
 and that no disposition or grant made, or to be made 
 of any such debts, by virtue of any attainder, outlawry, 
 fugacy, or other forfeiture, shall be of force ; and this 
 to be passed as an act in the next parliament. 
 
 VII. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, and his majesty is graciously pleased, that 
 for the securing of the estates or reputed estates of the 
 lords, knights, gentlemen, and freeholders, or reputed 
 freeholders, as well of Connaght and county of Clare, 
 or country of Thomond, as of the counties of Limerick 
 and Tippcrary, the same to be secured by act of par- 
 liament, according to the intent of the twenty-fifth 
 article of the graces granted in the fourth year of bis 
 majesty's reign, the tenour whereof, for so much as 
 concerneth the same, doth ensue in these words, viz. 
 We are graciously pleased, that for the inhabitants of 
 Connaght and country of Thomond and county of 
 Clare, that their several estates shall be confirmed unto 
 them and their heirs against us, and our heirs and suc- 
 cessors, by act to be passed in the next parliament to 
 be holden in Ireland, to the end the same may never 
 hereafter be brought into any further question by us, 
 or our heirs and successors. In which act of parliament 
 so to be passed, you are to take care, that all tenures 
 in capite, and all rents and services as are now due, or 
 which ought to be answered unto us out of the said 
 lands and premises, by any letters patent passed thereof 
 
250 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 since ihc first year of king Henry VIII, or found by 
 any office taken from the said first year of kins' Henry 
 VIII, until the twenty-first of July 1645, whereby our 
 late dear father, or any his predecessors, actually re- 
 ceiFcd any profit by wardship, liveries, primer-seisins, 
 mesne rates, ousterlemains, or fines of alienation with- 
 out license, be ag^ain reserved unto us, our heirs and 
 successors, and all the rest of the premises to be bolden 
 of our castle of Athlone by knight's service, according 
 to our said late father's letters, notwithstanding any 
 tenures in capite found for us by oiBce, since the 
 twenty-first of July 1615, and not appearing in any 
 such letters patent, or offices ; within which rule his 
 majesty is likewise graciously pleased, that the said 
 lauds in the counties of Limerick and Tipperary be 
 included, but to be held by such rents and tenures only, 
 as they were in the fourth year of his majesty's reign ; 
 provided always, that the said lords, knights, gentle- 
 men, and freeholders of the said province of Connaght, 
 county of Clare, and country of Thomond, and couitties 
 of Tipperary and Limerick, shall have and enjoy the 
 full benefit of such composition and agreement which 
 shall be made with his most excellent majesty, for the 
 court of wards, tenures, respites, and issues of homage, 
 any clause in this article to the contrary notwithstand- 
 ing. And as for the lands within the counties of Kil- 
 kenny and Wickloe, unto which his majesty was in- 
 titled by offices, taken or found in the time of the earl 
 of Strafford's government in this kingdom, his majesty 
 is further graciously pleased, that the state thereof shall 
 be considered in the next intended parliament, where 
 his majesty will assent unto that which shall be just 
 and honourable ; and that the like act of limitation of 
 his majesty's titles, for the security of the estates of his 
 subjects of this kingdom, be passed in the said parlia- 
 ment, as was enacted in the twenty-first year of his 
 late majesty king James his reign in England. 
 
 VIII. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, and his majesty is further graciously 
 pleased, that all incapacities imposed upon the natives 
 of this kingdom or any of them, as natives, by any act 
 of parliament, provisoes in patents or otherwise, be 
 taken away by act to be passed in the s*aid parliament; 
 and that they may be enabled to erect one or more inns 
 il| of court in or near the city of Dublin or elsewhere, as 
 shall be thought fit by his majesty's lord lieutenant, or 
 other chief governor or governors of this kingdom for 
 the time being ; and in case the said inns of court shall 
 be erected before the fii-st day of the next parliament, 
 then the same shall be in such places as his majesty's 
 lord lieutenants or other chief govenior or governors of 
 this kingdom for the time being, by and with the ad- 
 vice and consent of the said Thomas lord viscount 
 Dillon of Costologh, lord president of Connaght, Don- 
 nogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron of 
 Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnell esquire, sir Lucas 
 Dillon knight, sir NicliolasPlunket knight, sir Richard 
 Barnwali baronet, Jeflfery Browne, Donnogb O Cal- 
 laghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles Rcily, Gerrald Fennell, 
 esquires, or any seven or more of them, shall think fit; 
 and that such students, natives of this kingdom, as shall 
 
 be therein, may take and receive the usual ilc^.» u ..c- 
 customed in any inns of court, tiiey taking tlie ensuing 
 oath, viz. " I A. B. do hereby acknowledge, profess, 
 testify, and declare in my conscience before God and 
 the world, that our sovereign lord king Charles is law- 
 ful and rightful king of this realm, and of other his 
 majesty's dominions and countries; and I will bear 
 faith and true allegiance to his majest}', and his l>cirs 
 and successors, and him and them will defend to the 
 utmost of my power against all conspiracies and at- 
 tempts whatsoever, which shall be made against his or 
 their crown and dignity ; and do my best endeavour to 
 disclose and make known to his majesty, his heirs and 
 successors, or to the lord deputy, or other his majesty's 
 chief governor or governors for the time being, all 
 treason or traiterous conspiracies, which I shall know 
 or hear to be intended against his majesty or any of 
 them. And I do here make this recognition and ac- 
 knowledgment heartily, willingly, and truly, upon the 
 true faith of a Christian ; so help me God," &c. And 
 his majesty is further graciously pleased, that his ma- 
 jesty's Roman Catholic subjects may erect and keep 
 free schools for education of youths in this kingdom, 
 any law or statute to the contrary notwithstanding ; 
 and that all the matters assented unto in this article be 
 passed as acts of parliament in the said next parlia- 
 ment. 
 
 IX. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is graciously pleased, that places of command, 
 honour, profit, and trust, in his majesty's armies in this 
 kingdom, shall be, upon perfection of these articles, 
 actually and by particular instances conferred upon his 
 Roman Catholic subjects of this kingdom; and that 
 upon the distribution, conferring, and disposing of the 
 places of command, honour, profit, and trust, in his 
 majesty's armies in this kingdom, for the future no 
 difference shall be made between the said Roman 
 Catholics, and other his majesty's subjects ; but that 
 such distribution shall be made with equal indifTerency 
 according to their respective merits and abilities; and 
 that all his majesty's subjects of this kingdom, as well 
 Roman Catholics as others, may, for his majesty's ser- 
 vice and their own security, arm themselves the best 
 they may, wherein they shall have all fitting encou- 
 ragement. And it is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that places of 
 command, honour, profit, and trust, in the civil go- 
 vernment in this kingdom, shall be, upon passing of 
 the bills in these articles mentioned in the next parlia- 
 ment, actually and by particular instances conferred 
 upon his majesty's Roman Catholic subjects of this 
 kingdom; and that in the distribution, conferring, and 
 disposal of the places of command, honour, profit, and 
 trust, in the civil government, for the future no diflTer- 
 cncc sliall be made between the said Roman Catholics, 
 and other his majesty's sul^ects, but that such distri- 
 buticHi shall be made with equal indirterency, according 
 to their respective merits and abilities; and that in the 
 distribution of ministerial offices or places, which now 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 251 
 
 are, or hereafter shall be void in this king'doin, equality 
 shall be used to the Roman Catholic natives of this 
 liing^lom, as to other his majesty's subjects ; and that 
 the command of forts, castles, garrison-towns, and 
 other places of importance, of this kingdom, shall be 
 confeiTcd upon his majesty's Roman Catholic subjects 
 of this kingdom, upon perfection of these articles, 
 actually and by particular instances ; and that in the 
 distribution, conferring, and disposal of the forts, 
 castles, garrison-towns, and other places of importance 
 in this kingdom, no difference shall be made between 
 his majesty's Roman Catholic subjects of this king- 
 dom, and other his majesty's subjects, but that such 
 distribution shall be made with equal indifferency, ac- 
 cording to their respective merits and abilities ; and that 
 until full settlement in parliament, fifteen thousand foot 
 and two thousand and five hundred horse of the Roman 
 Catholics of this kingdom shall be of the standing army 
 of this kingdom; and that until full settlement in par- 
 liament as aforesaid, the said lord lieutenant, or other 
 chief governor or governors of this kingdom for the time 
 being, and the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of 
 Costologh, lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord 
 viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, 
 Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon 
 knight, sir Nicholas Plunket knight, sir Richard Barn- 
 wall baronet, Jeffery Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, 
 Tyrlali O Neile, Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennel, 
 esquires, or any seven or more of them, the said Thomas 
 lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord president of 
 Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis 
 lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, 
 sir Lucas Dillon kt. sir Nicholas Plunket, kt. sir 
 Richard Barnwall baronet, Jefiery Browne, Donnogh 
 O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles Reily, and Ger- 
 rald Fcnnell, esquires, shall diminish or add unto the 
 said number, as they shall see cause from time to time. 
 X. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that his majesty 
 will accept of the yearly rent, or annual sum of twelve 
 thousand pounds sterling, to be applotted with indiffer- 
 ency and equality, and consented to be paid to his ma- 
 jesty, his heirs and successors, in parliament, for and in 
 Ueu of the court of wards in this kingdom, tenures in 
 capite, common knight's service, and all other tenures 
 within the cognizance of that court, and for and in 
 lieu of all wardships, primer-seisins, fines, ousterle- 
 roains, liveries, intrusions, alienations, mesne rates, re- 
 leases, and all other profits, within the cognizance of 
 the said court, or incident to the said tenures, or any 
 of them, or fines to accrue to his majesty by reason of 
 the said tenures or any of them, and for and in lieu of 
 respites and issues of homage and fines for the same. 
 And the said yearly rent being so applotted and con- 
 sented unto in parliament as aforesaid, then a bill is to 
 be agreed on in the said parliament, to be passed as 
 an act for the securing of the said yearly rent, or an- 
 nual sum of twelve thousand pounds, to be applotted as 
 aforesaid, and for the extinction and taking away of the 
 said court, and other matters aforesaid in this article 
 
 contained. And it is further agreed, that reasonable 
 compositions shall be accepted for wardships since the 
 twenty-third of October 1641, and already granted; 
 and that no wardships fallen and not granted, or that 
 shall fall, siiall be passed until the success of this arti- 
 cle shall appear; and if his majesty be secured as 
 aforesaid, then all wardships fallen since the said 
 twenty-third of October, are to be included in the argu- 
 ment aforesaid, upon composition to be made with such 
 as have grants as aforesaid ; which composition, to be 
 made with the grantees since the time aforesaid, is to 
 be left to indifferent persons, and the umpirage to the 
 said lord lieutenant. 
 
 XI. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that no noble- 
 man or peer of this realm, in parliament, shall be here- 
 after capable of more proxies than two, and that blank 
 proxies shall be hereafter totally disallowed ; and that 
 if such noblemen or peers of this realm, as have no 
 estates in this kingdom, do not within five years, to 
 begin from the conclusion of these articles, purchase 
 in this kingdom as followeth, viz. a lord baron 
 200/. per annum, a lord viscount 400/. per annum, 
 and an earl GOO/, per annum, a marquis 800/. per 
 annum, a duke 1000/. per annum, shall lose their 
 votes in parliament, until such time as they shall after- 
 wards acquire such estates respectively ; and that none 
 be admitted in the house of commons, but such as shall 
 be estated and resident within this kingdom. 
 
 XII. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that as for and 
 concerning the independency of the parliament of Ire- 
 land on the parliament of England, his majesty will 
 leave both houses of parliament in this kingdom to 
 make such declaration therein as shall be agreeable to 
 the laws of the kingdom of Ireland. 
 
 XIII. Item, It is further concluded, and agreed 
 upon, by and between the said parties, and his majesty 
 is further graciously pleased, that the council-table 
 shall contain itself within its proper bounds, in handling 
 matters of state and weight fit for that place; amongst 
 which the patents of plantation, and the offices where- 
 upon those grants are founded, to be handled, as mat- . i 
 tei-s of state, and to be heard and determined by his 
 majesty's lord lieutenant, or other chief governor or 
 governors for the time being, and the council publicly 
 
 at the council-board, and not otherwise ; but titles be- 
 tween party and party, grown after these patents 
 granted, are to be left to the ordinary course of law ; 
 and that the council-table do not hereafter intermeddle 
 with common business, that is within the cognizance 
 of the ordinary courts, nor with the altering of posses- 
 sions of lands, nor make, nor use, private orders, hear- 
 ings, or references concerning any such matter, nor 
 grant any injunction or order for stay of any suits ia 
 any civil cause ; and that parties giieved for or by rea- 
 son of any proceedings formerly had there may com- 
 mence their suits, and prosecute the same, in any of his 
 majesty's courts of justice or equity for remedy of their 
 
252 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 pretended rights, without any restraint or interruption 
 from his majesty, or otherwise, by the chief ffovernor 
 or governors and council of this kingdom : and that 
 the proceedings in the respective precedency courts 
 shall be pursuant and according to his majesty's printed 
 book of instructions, and that they shall contain them- 
 selves within the limits prescribed by that book, when 
 the kingdom shall be restored to such a degree of quiet- 
 ness, as they be not necessarily enforced to exceed the 
 same. 
 
 XIV. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that as for and 
 concerning one statute made in this kingdom, in the 
 eleventh year of the reign of queen Elizabeth, entitled, 
 An Act for staying of wool-flocks, tallow, and other 
 necessaries within this realm : and another statute made 
 in the said kingdom, in tlie twelfth year of the reign of 
 the said queen, entitled. An Act 
 
 And one other statute made in the said kingdom, in 
 the 13th year of the reign of the said late queen, en- 
 titled. An exemplanation of the act made in a session 
 of this parliament for the staying of wool-flocks, tallow, 
 and other wares and commodities mentioned in the said 
 act, and certain articles added to the same act, all con- 
 cerning staple or native commodities of this kingdom, 
 shall be repealed, if it shall be so thought fit in the 
 parliament, (excepting for wool and wool-fells,) and 
 that such indiflerent persons as shall be agreed on by 
 the said lord lieutenant and the said Thomas lord vis- 
 count Dillon of Costologh, lord president of Connaght, 
 Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron 
 of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lucas 
 Dillon knt. sir Nicholas Plunket knt. sir Richard 
 Barnwall baronet, Jeffery Browne, Donnogh O Calla- 
 ghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles Reily, and Gcrrald Fen- 
 nell, esquires, or any seven or more of them, shall be 
 authorized by commission under the great seal, to mo- 
 derate and ascertain the rates of merchandize to be 
 exported or imported out of, or into this kingdom, as 
 they shall think fit. 
 
 ' XV. Item, It is concluded, accorded, and agreed, by 
 and between the said parties, and his majesty is gra- 
 ciously pleased, that all and every person and ])ersons 
 within this kingdom, pretending to have suffered by 
 offices found of several countries, territories, lands, 
 and hereditaments in the province of Ulster, and other 
 provinces of this kingdom, in or since the first year of 
 king James his reign, or by attainders or forfeitures, 
 or by pretence and colour thereof, since the said first 
 year of king James, or by other acts depending on the 
 said offices, attainders, and forfeitures, may petition his 
 majesty in parliament for relief and redress; and if 
 after examination it shall appear to his majesty, the 
 said persons, or any of them, have been injured, then 
 his majesty will prescribe a course to repair the person 
 or persons so suflTering, according to justice and honour. 
 XVI. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agfreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty b graciously pleased, that as to the particular 
 
 cases of Maurice lord viscount de Rupe and Fermoy, 
 Arthur lord viscount Iveagh, sir Edward Fitz-Ger- 
 rald of Cloanglish baronet, Charles Mac-Carty Rcag, 
 Roger Moore, Anthony Mare, William Fitz-Gerrald, 
 Anthony Lince, John Lacy, Collo Mac-brien Mac- 
 Mahone, Daniel Castigni, Edmond Fitz-Gerrald of 
 Ballimartir, Lucas Keating, Theobald Roch Fitz- 
 Miles, Thomas Fitz-Gerrald of the Valley, John 
 Bourke of Iy)gmaske, Edmond Fitz-Gerrald of Balli- 
 mallo, James Fitz-William Gerrald of Glinane, and 
 Edward Sutton, they may petition his majesty in the 
 next parliament, whereupon his majesty will take such 
 consideration of them as shall be just and fit. 
 
 XVII. Item, It is likewise concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is graciously pleased, that the citizens, free- 
 men, burgesses, and former inhabitants of the city of 
 Cork, towns of Youghall and Downegarven, shall be 
 forthwith, upon perfection of these articles, restored to 
 their respective possessions and estates in the said city 
 and towns respectivelj', where the same extends not to 
 the endangering of the said garrisons in the said city 
 and towns. In which case, so many of the said citi- 
 zens and inhabitants, as shall not be admitted to the 
 present possession of their houses within the said city 
 and towns, shall be afforded a valuable annual rent for 
 the same, until settlement in parliament, at which time 
 they shall be restored to those their possessions. And 
 it is further agreed, and his majesty is graciously 
 pleased, that the said citizens, freemen, burgesses, and 
 inhabitants of the said city of Cork, aJid towns of 
 Youghall and Downegarven, respectively, shall be 
 enabled in convenient time before the next parliament 
 to be held in this kingdom, to choose and return bur- 
 gesses into the same parliament. 
 
 XVIII. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that an act of ob- 
 livion be passed in the next parliament, to extend to all 
 his majesty's subjects of this kingdom, and their adhe- 
 rents, of all treasons and offences, capital, criminal, and 
 personal, and other oflTences, of what nature, kind, or 
 quality soever, in such manner, as if such treasons or 
 offences had never been committed, perpetrated, or 
 done : that the said act do extend to the heirs, children, 
 kindred, executors, administrators, wives, widows, dow- 
 agers, or assigns of such of the said subjects and their 
 adherents, who died on, before, or since, the 23d of 
 October, 1641. That the said act do relate to the first 
 day of the next parliament ; that the said act do extend 
 to all bodies politic and corporate, and their respective 
 successors, and unto all cities, boroughs, counties, ba- 
 ronies, hundreds, towns, villages, thitlings, and every 
 of them within this kingdom, for and concerning all 
 and every of the said offences, and any other oflTence or 
 offences in them, or any of them committed or done by 
 his majesty's said subjects, or their adherents, or any 
 of them, before, in, or since the 2.3d of October, 1641. 
 Provided this act shall not extend to be construed to 
 pardon any offence or offences, for which any person or 
 persons have been convicted or attainted on record at 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 253 
 
 any time before the 23d day of October, in tlie year of 
 our Lord 1641. That this act shall extend to piracies, 
 and all other offences committed upon the sea by his 
 majesty's said subjects, or their adherents, or any of 
 them ; that in this act of oblivion, words of release, ac- 
 quittal, and discharg^e be inserted, that no person or 
 persons, bodies politic or corporate, counties, cities, bo- 
 roug-hs, baronies, hundreds, towns, villages, thitlings, 
 or any of them within this kingdom, included within 
 the said act, be troubled, impeached, sued, inquieted, 
 or molested, for or by reason of any offence, matter, 
 or thing whatsoever, comprised within the said act : 
 and the said act shall extend to all rents, goods, and 
 chattels taken, detained, or grown due to the subjects 
 of the one party from the other since the 23d of Octo- 
 ber, 1641, to the date of these articles of peace; and 
 also to all customs, rents, arrearsof rents, to prizes, re- 
 cognizances, bonds, fines, forfeitures, penalties, and to 
 all other profits, perquisites, and dues which were due, 
 or did or should accrue to his majesty on, before, or 
 since the 23d of October, 1641, until the perfection of 
 these articles, and likewise to all mesne rates, fines of 
 what nature soever, recognizances, judgments, execu- 
 tions thereupon, and penalties whatsoever, and to all 
 other profits due to his majesty since the said 23d of 
 October and before, until the perfection of these arti- 
 cles, for, by reason, or which lay within the survey or 
 recognizance of the court of wards ; and also to all re- 
 spites, issues of homage, and fines for the same : pro- 
 vided this shall not extend to discharge or remit any 
 of the king's debts or subsidies due before the said 23d 
 of October, 1641, which were then or before levied, or 
 taken by the sherifls, commissioners, receivers, or col- 
 lectors, and not then or before accounted for, or since 
 disposed to the public use of the said Roman Ca- 
 tholic subjects, but that such pei-sons may be brought 
 to account for the same after full settlement in par- 
 liament, and not before, unless by and with the ad- 
 vice and consent of the said Thomas lord viscount 
 Dillon of Costologh, lord president of Connaght, 
 Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron 
 of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lu- 
 cas Dillon knt. sir Nicholas Plunket knt. sir Rich- 
 ard Barnwall baronet, JefTery Browne, Donnogh O 
 Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles Reily, and Ger- 
 rald Fenncll, esquires, or any seven or more of them, 
 as the said lord lieutenant otherwise shall think fit; 
 provided, that such barbarous and inhuman crimes, 
 as shall be particularized and agreed upon by the 
 said lord lieutenant, and the said Thomas lord vis- 
 count Dillon of Costologh, lord president of Con- 
 naght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis 
 lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, 
 sir Lucas Dillon knt. sir Nicholas Plunket knt. sir 
 Richard Barnwall baronet, Jeffery Browne, Donnogh 
 O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, :Miles Reily, and Ger- 
 rald Fennell, esquires, or any seven or more of them, as 
 to the actors and procurers thereof, be left to be tried 
 and adjudged by such indifferent commissioners, as 
 shall be agreed upon by the said lord lieutenant, and 
 the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, 
 
 lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount 
 Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander 
 Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon knt. sir Nicho- 
 las Plunket knt. sir Richard Barnwall baronet, Jef- 
 fery Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, 
 Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennell, esquires, or any seven 
 or more of them ; and that the power of the said com- 
 missioners shall continue only for two years next ensu- 
 ing the date of their commission, which commission is 
 to issue within six months after the date of these articles, 
 provided also, that the commissioners, to be agreed on 
 for the trial of the said particular crimes to be excepted, 
 shall hear, order, and determine all cases of trust, 
 where relief may or ought in equity to be afforded 
 against all manner of persons, according to the equity 
 and circumstances of every such cases; and his majes- 
 ty's chief governor or governors, and other magistrates 
 for the time being, in all his majesty's courts of justice, 
 and other his majesty's officers of what condition or 
 quality soever, be bound and required to take notice of 
 and pursue the said act of oblivion, without pleading* 
 or suit to be made for the same : and that no clerk or 
 other officers do make out or write out any manner of 
 writs, processes, summons, or other precept, for, con- 
 ceniing, or by reason of any matter, cause, or thing 
 whatsoever, released, forgiven, discharged, or to be for- 
 given by the said act, under pain of twenty pounds 
 sterling, and that no sheriff or other officer do execute 
 any such writ, process, summons, or precept; and that 
 no record, writing, or memory, do remain of any offence 
 or offences, released or forgiven, or mentioned to be 
 forgiven by this act ; and that all other clauses usually 
 inserted in acts of general pardon or oblivion, enlarging 
 his majesty's grace and mercy, not herein particular- 
 ized, be inserted and comprised in the said act, when 
 the bill shall be drawn up with the exceptions already 
 expressed, and none other. Provided always, that the 
 said act of oblivion shall not extend to any treason, 
 felony, or other offence or offences, which shall be com- 
 mitted or done from or after the date of these articles, 
 until the first day of the before-mentioned next parlia- 
 ment, to be held in this kingdom. Provided also, that 
 any act or acts, which shall be done by virtue, pretence, 
 or in pursuance of these articles of peace agreed upon, 
 or any act or acts which shall be done by virtue, colour, 
 or pretence of the power or authority used or exercised 
 by and amongst the confederate Roman Catholics after 
 the date of the said articles, and before the said publi- 
 cation, shall not be accounted, taken, construed, or to 
 be, treason, felony, or other offence to be excepted out 
 of the said act of oblivion ; provided likewise, that the 
 said act of oblivion shall not extend unto any person 
 or persons, that will not obey and submit unto the peace 
 concluded and agreed on by these articles; provided 
 further, that the said act of oblivion, or any thing in 
 this article contained, shall not hinder or interrupt the 
 said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord 
 president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Mus- 
 kerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac- 
 Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon kt. sir Nicholas 
 Plunket kt. sir Richard Barnwall baronet, Jeffery 
 
2Sft 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 Browne, Donnogh O Callag-han, Tyrlah O Neile, 
 Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennell, esqrs. or any seven 
 or more of them, to call to an account, and proceed 
 aguinst the council and congregation, and the respective 
 supreme councils, commissioners general, appointed 
 hitherto from time to time by the confederate Catholics 
 to manage their affairs, or any other person or persons 
 accountable to an accompt for their respective receipts 
 and disbursements, since the beginning of their respec- 
 tive employments under the "said confederate Catholics, 
 or to acquit or release any arrear of excises, customs, 
 or public taxes, to be accounted for since the 23d of 
 October, 1641, and not disposed of hitherto to the pub- 
 lic use, but that the parties therein concerned may be 
 called to an account for the same as aforesaid, by the 
 said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord 
 president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Mus- 
 kerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac- 
 Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon kt. sir Nicholas 
 Plunket kt sir Richard Barnvrall baronet, Jeffery 
 Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles 
 Reily, and Gerrald Fennel, esqrs. or any seven or more 
 of them, the said act or any thing therein contained to 
 the contrary notwithstanding. 
 
 XIX. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is graciously pleased, that an act be passed in 
 the next parliament, prohibiting, that neither the lord 
 deputy or other chief governor or governors, lord chan- 
 cellor, lord high treasurer, vicetreasurer, chancellor, or 
 any of the barons of the exchequer, privy council, or 
 judges of the four courts, be farmers of his majesty's 
 customs within this kingdom. 
 
 XX. Item, It is likewise concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed, and his majesty is graciously pleased, that an 
 act of parliament pass in this kingdom against mono- 
 polies, such as was enacted in England 21 Jacobi Re- 
 gis, with a further clause of repealing of all grants of 
 monopolies in this kingdom ; and that commissioners 
 be agreed upon by the said lord lieutenant, and the 
 said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord 
 president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Mus- 
 kerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander 
 Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon knt. sir Nicho- 
 las Plunket kt. sir Richard Bamwall baronet, JefFery 
 Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, 
 Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennell, esquires, or any 
 seven or more of them, to set down the rates for the 
 custom and imposition to be laid on Aquavitte, Wine, 
 Oil, Yam, and Tobacco. 
 
 XXI. Item, It is concluded, accorded, and agreed, 
 and his majesty is graciously pleased, that such per- 
 sons as shall be agreed on by the said lord lieutenant 
 and the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Cos- 
 tologh, lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord 
 Viscount Muskerry, Francis lord Baron of Athunry, 
 Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon knt. 
 sir Nicholas Plunket knight, sir Richard Bamwall 
 baronet, Jeffery Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyr- 
 lah O Neile, Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennell, esquires, 
 or any seven or more of them, shall be as soon as may 
 
 be authorized by commission under the great seal, to 
 regulate the court of castle-chamber, and such causes 
 as shall be brought into, and censured in the said 
 court. 
 
 XXII. Item, It is concluded, accorded, and agreed 
 upon, and his majesty is graciously pleased, tiiat two 
 acts lately passed in this kingdom, one prohibiting the 
 plowing with horses by the tail, and the other pro- 
 hibiting the burning of oats in the straw, be repealed. 
 
 XXIII. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, for as much as 
 upon application of agents from this kingdom unto his 
 majesty in the fourth year of his reign, and lately upon 
 humble suit made unto his majesty, by a committee of 
 both houses of the parliament of this kingdom, order 
 was given by his majesty for redress of several griev- 
 ances, and for so many of those as are not expressed in 
 the articles, whereof both houses in the next ensuing 
 parliament shall desire the benefit of his majesty's said 
 former directions for redress therein, that the same be 
 afforded them ; yet so as for prevention of inconve- 
 niencies to his majesty's service, that the warning men- 
 tioned in the 24th article of the graces in the fourth 
 year of his majesty's reign be so understood, that the 
 warning being left at the person's dwelling houses be 
 held sufficient warning ; and as to the 22d article of the 
 said graces, the process hitherto used in the court of 
 wards do still continue, as hitherto it hath done in that, 
 and hath been used in other English courts; but the 
 court of wards being compounded for, so much of the 
 aforesaid answer as concerns warning and process 
 shall be omitted. 
 
 XXIV. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that maritime 
 causes may be determined in this kingdom, without 
 driving of merchants or others to appeal and seek jus- 
 tice elsewhere : and if it shall fall out, that there be 
 cause of an appeal, the party grieved is to appeal to 
 his majesty in the chancery of Ireland ; and that sen- 
 tence thereupon to be given by the delegates, to be 
 definitive, and not be questioned upon any further ap- 
 peal, except it be in the parliament of this kingdom, if 
 the parliament shall then be sitting, otherwise not, this 
 to be by act of parliament ; and until the said parlia- 
 ment, the admiralty and maritime causes shall be ordered 
 and settled by the said lord lieutenant, or other chief 
 governor or governors of this kingdom for the time be- 
 ing, by and with the advice and consent of the said 
 Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord pre- 
 sident of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount MuskeiTV, 
 Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel 
 esquire, sir Lucas Dillon knight, sir Nicholas Plunket 
 knight, sir Richard Bamwall baronet, Jeffery Browne, 
 Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles Reily, 
 and Gerrald Fennell, esquires, or any seven or more of 
 them. ^ 
 
 XXV. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, andf 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is graciously pleased, tliat his majesty's sub- 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 2d5 
 
 jects of this kiiig'dom be eased of all rents and increase 
 of rents lately raised on the commission or defective 
 titles in the earl of Strafford's g'overnment, this to be by 
 act of parliament ; and that in the mean time the said 
 rents or increase of rents shall not be written for by 
 any process, or the payment thereof in any sort pro- 
 cured, 
 
 XXVI. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that, by act to 
 be passed in the next parliament, all the arrears of in- 
 terest-money, which did accrue and grow due by way 
 of debt, mortgage, or otherwise, and yet not so satis- 
 fied since the 23d of October, 1641, until the perfection 
 of these articles, shall be fully forgiven and be released ; 
 and that for and during the space of three years next 
 ensuing, no more shall be taken for use or interest of 
 money than five pounds per centum. And in cases of 
 equity arising through disability, occasioned by the 
 distempers of the times, the considerations of equity to 
 be like unto both parties : but as for mortgages con- 
 tracted between his majesty's Roman Catholic subjects 
 and others of that party, where entry hath been made 
 by the mortgagers against law, and the condition of 
 their mortgages, and detained wrongfully by them 
 without giving any satisfaction to the mortgagees, or 
 where any such mortgagers have made profit of the 
 lands mortgaged above country charges, yet answer 
 no rent, or other consideration to the mortgagees, the 
 parties grieved respectively to be left for relief to a 
 course of equity therein. 
 
 XXVII. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, 
 and agreed upon, and his majesty is further graciously 
 pleased, that, immediately upon perfection of these ar- 
 ticles, the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costo- 
 logh, lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord 
 viscount Muskeny, Francis lord baron of Athunry, 
 Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon 
 knight, sir Nicholas Plunket knight, sir Richard 
 Barnwall baronet, JefTery Browne, Donnogh O Calla- 
 ghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fen- 
 nell, esquires, shall be authorized by the said lord 
 lieutenant, to proceed in, hear, determine, and execute, 
 in and throughout this kingdom, the ensuing particu- 
 lars, and all the matters thereupon depending; and 
 that such authority, and other the authorities hereafter 
 mentioned, shall remain of force without revocation, 
 alteration, or diminution, until acts of parliament be 
 passed, according to the purport and intent of these 
 articles ; and that in case of death, miscarriage, disabi- 
 lity to serve by reason of sickness or otherwise of any 
 the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, 
 lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount 
 Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander 
 Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon knight, sir Ni- 
 cholas Plunket knight, sir Richard Barnwall baronet, 
 Jeffery Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O 
 Neile, Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennell, esquires, and 
 his majesty's lord lieutenant, or other chief governor 
 or governors of this kingdom for the time being, shall 
 name and authorize another in the place of such as 
 
 shall be so dead or shall miscarry himself, or be so dis- 
 abled, and that the same shall be such person as shall 
 be allowed of by the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon 
 of Costologh, lord president of Connaght, Donnogh 
 lord viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, 
 Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire,sirLucas Dillon knight, 
 sir Nicholas Plunket knight, sir Richard Barnwall 
 baronet, Jeffery Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyr- 
 lah O Neile, Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennell, esquires, 
 or any seven or more of them then living. And that 
 the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, 
 lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount 
 Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander 
 Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon knight, sir Ni- 
 cholas Plunket knight, sir Richard Barnwall baronet, 
 Jeffery Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O 
 Neile, Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennell, esquires, or 
 any seven or more of them, shall have power to applot, 
 raise, and levy means with indiffereucy and equality 
 by way of excise or otherwise, upon all his majesty's 
 subjects within the said kingdom, their persons, estates, 
 and- goods, towards the maintenance of such army or 
 armies as shall be thought fit to continue, and be in 
 pay for his majesty's service, the defence of the king- 
 dom, and other the necessary public charges thereof, 
 and towanls the maintenance of the forts, castles, gar- 
 risons, and towns, until there shall be a settlement in 
 parliament of both or either party, other than such of 
 the said forts, garrisons, and castles, as from time to 
 time shall be thought fit, by his majesty's chief go- 
 vernor or governors of this kingdom for the time being, 
 by and with the advice and consent of the said Thomas 
 lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord president of 
 Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis 
 lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, 
 sir Lucas Dillon knight, sir Nicholas Plunket knight, 
 sir Richard Barnwall baronet, Jeffery Browne, Don- 
 nogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles Reily, and 
 Gerrald Fennell, esquires, or any seven or more of 
 them, not to be maintained at the charge of the public : 
 provided, that his majesty's loi-d lieutenant, or other 
 chief governor or governors of this kingdom for the 
 time being, be first made acquainted with such taxes, 
 levies, and excises as shall be made, and the manner 
 of levying thereof, and that he approve the same ; and 
 to the end that such of the protestant party, as shall 
 submit to the peace, may in the several countries, where 
 any of their estates lie, have equality and indiffereucy 
 in the assessments and levies, that shall concern their 
 estates in the said several counties. 
 
 It is concluded, accorded, and agreed upon, and bis 
 majesty is graciously pleased, that in the directions, 
 which shall issue to any such county, for the applotting, 
 sub-dividing, and levying of the said public assessments, 
 some of the said protestant party shall be joined with 
 others of the Roman Catholic party to that pur})ose, 
 and for effecting that service; and the said Thomas 
 lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord president of 
 Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis 
 lord baronof Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, 
 sir Lucas Dillon kt. sir Nicholas Plunket kt. sir Rich- 
 
256 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 ard Barnwall baronet, Jeffery Browne, Donno<fli O 
 Callaybaii, Tyrlah O Neilc, Miles Reily, and Gerrald 
 Fenncll, esquires, or any seven or more of them, shall 
 have power to levy the arrears of all excises and other 
 public taxes imposed by the confederate Roman Ca- 
 tholics, and yet unpaid, and to call receivers and other 
 accomptants of all former taxes and all public dues to 
 a just and strict account, either by themselves, or by 
 such as they or any seven or more of them shall name 
 or appoint ; and that the said lord lieutenant, or any 
 other chief governor or governors of this kingdom for 
 the time being, shall from time to time issue commis- 
 sions to such person or persons as shall be named and 
 appointed by the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of 
 Costologb, lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord 
 viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, 
 Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon kt. 
 sir Nicholas Plunket kt. sir Richard Barnwall baronet, 
 Jeffery Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tj'rlah O 
 Neile, Miles Reily, and Gerrard Fennell, esquires, or 
 any seven or more of them, for letting, setting, and 
 improving the estates of all such person and persons, 
 as shall adhere to any party opposing his majesty's 
 authority, and not submitting to the peace ; and that 
 the profits of such estates shall be converted by the 
 said lord lieutenant, or other chief governor or govern- 
 ors of this kingdom for the time being, to the main- 
 tenance of the king's army and other necessary 
 charges, nntil settlement by parliament ; and that 
 the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologb, 
 lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount 
 Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander 
 Mac-Donuel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon kt. sir Nicholas 
 Plunket kt. sir Richard Barnwall baronet, Jeffery 
 Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, 
 Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennell, esquires, or any 
 seven or more of them, shall have power to applet, 
 raise, and levy means, with indifferency and equality, 
 for the buying of arms and ammunition, and for 
 the entertaining of frigates in such proportion as shall 
 be tliought fit by his majesty's lord lieutenant or other 
 chief governors of this kingdom for the time being, by 
 and with the advice and consent of the said Thomas 
 lord viscount Dillon of Costologb, lord president of 
 Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis 
 lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac-Donnel esquire, 
 sir Lucas Dillon, kt. sir Nicholas Plunket kt. sir 
 Richard Barnwall baronet, Jeffery Browne, Donnogh 
 O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, Miles Reily, and Ger- 
 rald Fennell, esquires, or any seven or more of them ; 
 the said arms and ammunition to be laid up in such 
 magazines, and under the charge of such persons as 
 shall be agreed on by the said lord lieutenant, and the 
 said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologb, lord 
 president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Mus- 
 kerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, Alexander Mac- 
 Donnel esquire, sir Lucas Dillon kt. sir Nicholas 
 Plunket kt. sir Richard Barnwall baronet, Jeffery 
 Browne, Donnogh O Callaghan, Tyrlah O Neile, 
 Miles Reily, and Gerrald Fennell, esquires, or any 
 seven or more of them, and to be disposed of, and the 
 
 said frigates to be employed for his majesty's servicr 
 and the public use and benefit of this kingdom of In 
 land ; and that the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon 
 of Costologb, lord president of Connaght, Donnogh 
 lord viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, 
 (Sec. or any seven or more of them, shall have power to 
 applot, raise, and levy means, with indifferency and 
 e(|uality, by way of excise or otherwise, in the several 
 cities, corporate towns, counties, and part of counties, 
 now within the quarters and only upon the estates of 
 the said confederate Roman Catholics, all such sum 
 and sums of money as shall appear to the said Thomas 
 lord viscount Dillon of Costologb, lord president of 
 Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis 
 lord baron of Athunry, &c. or any seven or more of 
 them, to be really due, for and in the discharge of the 
 public engagements of the said confederate Catholics, 
 incurred and grown due before the conclusion of these 
 articles ; and that the said Thomas lord viscount Dil- 
 lon of Costologb, lord president of Connaght, Don- 
 nogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron of 
 Athunry, Ike. or any seven or more of them, shall be 
 authorized to appoint receivers, collectors, and all other 
 officers, for such monies as shall be assessed, taxed, or 
 applotted, in pursuance of the authorities mentioned 
 in this article, and for the arrears of all former applot- 
 ments, taxes, and other public dues yet unpaid : and 
 that the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologb, 
 lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount 
 Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, &c. or any 
 seven or more of them, in case of refractories or delin- 
 quency, may distrain and imprison, and cause such de- 
 linquents to be distrained and imprisoned. And tlie 
 said Thomas lord viscojjnt Dillon of Costologb, lord 
 president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Mus- 
 kerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, &c. or any seven 
 or more of them, make perfect books of all such monies 
 as shall be applotted, raised, or levied, out of which 
 books tlicy are to make several and respective abstracts, 
 to be delivered under their bands, or the hands of any 
 seven or more of them, to the several and respective 
 collectors, which shall be appointed to levy and receive 
 the same. And that a duplicate of the said books, 
 under the hands of the said Thomas lord viscount Dil- 
 lon of Costologb, lord president of Connaght, Donnogh 
 lord viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, 
 &c. or any seven or more of them, be delivered unto 
 his majesty's lord lieutenant, or other chief governor 
 or governors of this kingdom for the time being, where- 
 by a perfect account may be given ; and that the said 
 Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologb, lord presi- 
 dent of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, 
 Francis lord baron of Athunry, &c. or any seven or 
 more of them, shall have power to call the council and 
 congregation, and the respective supreme councils, and 
 commissioners general, appointed hitherto from time to 
 time, by the said confederate Roman Catholics, to 
 manage their public affairs, and all other persons ac- 
 countable, to an account, for all their receipts and dis- 
 bursements since the beginning of their respective 
 employments under the confederate Roman Catholics. 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 267 
 
 XXVIII. Item, It is concluded, accorded, and agreed, 
 by and between the said parties, and his majesty is 
 graciously pleased, that for the preservation of the peace 
 and tranquillity of the kingdom, the said lord lieuten- 
 ant, and the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Cos- 
 tologh, lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord 
 viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, &c. 
 or any seven or more of them, shall for the present 
 agree upon such persons, who are to be authorized by 
 commission under the great seal, to be commissioners of 
 the peace, oyer and terminer, assizes and gaol-delivery, 
 in and throughout the kingdom, to continue during 
 pleasure, with such power as justices of the peace, oyer 
 and terminer, assizes and gaol-delivery in former time 
 of peace have usually had, which is not to extend unto 
 any crime or offence committed before the first of May 
 last past, and to be qualified with power to hear and 
 determine all civil causes coming before them, not ex- 
 ceeding ten pounds : provided that they shall not in- 
 termeddle with titles of lands ; provided likewise, the 
 authority of such commissioners shall not extend to 
 question any person or persons, for any shipping, cattle, 
 or goods, heretofore taken by either party from the 
 other, or other injuries done contrarj* to the articles of 
 cessation, concluded by and with the said Roman Ca- 
 tholic party in or since May last, but that the same 
 shall be determined by such indifferent pereons, as the 
 lord lieutenant, by the advice and consent of the said 
 Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord presi- 
 dent of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, 
 Francis lord baron of Athunr}', Sec. or any seven or 
 more of them, shall think fit, to the end that speedy 
 and equal justice may be done to all parties grieved ; 
 and the said commissioners are to make their estreats 
 as accustomed of peace, and shall take the ensuing 
 oath, viz. You shall swear, that as justice of the peace, 
 oyer and terminer, assizes and gaol-delivery in the 
 counties of A. B. in all articles of the commission to 
 you directed, you shall do equal right to the poor and 
 to the rich, after your cunning and wit and power, 
 and after the laws and customs of the realm, and in 
 pursuance of these articles : and you shall not be 
 of counsel of any quarrel hanging before you ; and 
 the issues, fines, and amerciaments, which shall hap- 
 pen to be made, and all forfeitures which shall 
 happen before 3'ou, you shall cause to be entered 
 without any concealment or embezzling, and send 
 to the court of exchequer, or to such other place as 
 his majesty's lord lieutenant, or other chief governor 
 or governors of this kingdom, shall appoint, until there 
 may be access unto the said court of exchequer : you 
 shall not lett for gift or other cause, but well and truly 
 you shall do your office of justice of peace, oyer and 
 terminer, assizes and gaol-delivery in that behalf; and 
 that you take nothing for your office of justice of the 
 peace, oyer and terminer, assizes and gaol-delivery to 
 be done, but of the king, and fees accustomed ; and you* 
 shall not direct, or cause to be directed, any warrant 
 by you, to be made to the parties, but you shall direct 
 them to the sheriffs and bailiffs of the said counties re- 
 spectively, or other the king's officers or ministers, or 
 
 other indifferent persons to do execution thereof. So 
 help your God, &c. 
 
 And that as well in the said commission, as in all 
 other commissions, and authorities to be issued in pur- 
 suance of the present articles, this clause shall be in- 
 serted, viz. That all officers, civil and martial, shall 
 be required to be aiding and assisting and obedient 
 unto the said commissioners, and other persons, to be 
 authorized as aforesaid in the execution of their re- 
 spective powers. 
 
 XXIX. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that his majesty's 
 Roman Catholic subjects do continue the possession of 
 such of his majesty's cities, garrisons, towns, forts, and 
 castles, which are within their now quarters, until set- 
 tlement by parliament, and to be commanded, ruled, 
 and governed in chief, upon occasion of necessity, (aa 
 to the martial and military affairs,) by such as his ma- 
 jesty, or his chief governor or governors of this king- 
 dom for the time being, shall appoint ; and the said 
 appointment to be by and with the advice and consent 
 of the said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, 
 lord president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount 
 Muskerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, &c. or any 
 seven or more of them ; and his majesty's chief go- 
 vernor or governors, is to issue commissions accord- 
 ingly to such persons as shall be so named and ap- 
 pointed as aforesaid, for the executing of such com- 
 mand, rule, or government, to continue until all the 
 particulars in these present articles, agreed on to pass 
 in parliament, shall be accordingly passed : only in 
 case of death or misbehaviour, such other person or 
 persons to be appointed for the said command, rule, or 
 government, to be named and appointed in the place 
 or places of him or them, who shall so die or misbehave 
 themselves, as the chief governor or governors for the 
 time being, by the advice and consent of the said Tho- 
 mas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord president 
 of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Fran- 
 cis lord baron of Athunry, Sec. or any seven or more 
 of them, shall think fit, and to be continued until a set- 
 tlement in parliament as aforesaid. 
 
 XXX. Item, It is further concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, by and between the said parties, and his 
 majesty is further graciously pleased, that all customs 
 and tenths of prizes belonging to his majesty, which 
 from the perfection of these articles shall fall due within 
 this kingdom, shall be paid unto his majesty's receipt, 
 or until recouree may be had thereunto in the ordinary 
 legal way, unto such person or persons, and in such 
 place or places, and under such controls, as the lord 
 lieutenant shall appoint to be disposed of, in order to 
 the defence and safety of the kingdom, and the defray- 
 ing of other the necessary public charges thereof, for 
 the ease of the subjects in other their levies, charges, 
 and applotments. And that all and every person or 
 persons, who are at present entrusted and employed by 
 the said Roman Catholics, in the entries, receipts, col- 
 lections, or otherwise, concerning the said customs and 
 tenths of prizes, do continue their respective employ- 
 
258 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 ments in the same, until full settlement in parliament, 
 accountable to his majesty's receipts, or until recourse 
 may be bad thereunto; as the said lord lieutenant shall 
 appoint as aforesaid, other than to such, and so many 
 of them, as to the chief governor or governors for the 
 time being, by and with the advice and consent of the 
 said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord 
 president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Mus- 
 kerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, &c. or any seven 
 or more of them, shall be thought fit to be altered ; and 
 then, and in such case, or in case of death, fraud, or 
 misbehaviour, or other alteration of any such person or 
 persons, then such other person or persons to be em- 
 ployed therein, as shall be thought fit by the chief 
 governor or governors for the time being, by and with 
 the advice and consent of the said Thomas lord vis- 
 count Dillon of Costologh, lord president of Connaght, 
 Donnogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron 
 of Athunry, Sec. or any seven or more of them ; and 
 when it shall appear, that any person or persons, who 
 shall be found faithful to his majesty, hath right to any 
 of the offices or places about the said customs, where- 
 unto he or they may not be admitted until settlement 
 in parliament as aforesaid, that a reasonable compensa- 
 tion shall be afforded to such person or persons for the 
 same. 
 
 XXXI. Item, As for and concerning his majesty's 
 rents, payable at Easter next, and from thenceforth to 
 grow due, until a settlement in parliament, it is con- 
 cluded, accorded, and agreed upon, by and between the 
 said parties, and his majesty is graciously pleased, that 
 the said rents be not written for, or levied, until a full 
 settlement in parliament; and in due time upon appli- 
 cation to be made to the said lord lieutenant, or other 
 chief governor or governors of this kingdom, by the 
 said Thomas lord viscount Dillon of Costologh, lord 
 president of Connaght, Donnogh lord viscount Mus- 
 kerry, Francis lord baron of Athunry, iScc. or any seven 
 or more of them, for remittal of those rents, the said 
 lord lieutenant, or any other chief governor or govern- 
 ors of this kingdom for the time being, shall intimate 
 their desires, and the reason thereof, to his majesty, 
 who, upon consideration of the present condition of this 
 kingdom, will declare his gracious pleasure therein, as 
 shall be just, and honourable, and satisfactory to the 
 reasonable desires of his subjects. 
 
 XXXII. Item, It is concluded, accorded, and agreed, 
 by and between the said parties, and his majesty is 
 graciously pleased, that the commissioners of oyer and 
 terminer and gaol-delivery to be named as aforesaid, 
 shall have power to hear and determine all murders, 
 manslaughters, rapes, stealths, burning of houses and 
 com in rick or stack, robberies, burglaries, forcible en- 
 tries, detainers of possessions, and other offences com- 
 mitted or done, and to be committed and done since 
 the first day of May last past, until the first day of the 
 next parliament, these present articles, or any thing 
 therein contained to the contrary notwithstanding; 
 provided, that the authority of the said commissioners 
 shall not extend to question any person or persons, for 
 doing or committing any act whatsoever, before the 
 
 conclusion of this treaty, by virtue or colour of any 
 warrant or direction from those in public autliority 
 among the confederate Roman Catholics, nor unto 
 any act, which shall be done after the perfecting and 
 concluding of these articles, by virtue or pretence of 
 any authority, which is now by these articles agreed 
 on ; provided also, that the said commission shall not 
 continue longer than the first day of the next par- 
 liament. 
 
 XXXIII. Item, It is concluded, accorded by and 
 between the said parties, and his majesty is furtlier 
 graciously pleased, that, for the determining such dif- 
 ferences, which may arise between his majesty's sub- 
 jects within this kingdom, and the prevention of incon- 
 venience and disquiet, which through want of din 
 remedy in several causes may happen, there shall In 
 judicatures established in this kingdom, and that tlie 
 persons to be authorized in them shall have power to do 
 all such things as shall be proper and necessary for 
 them to do ; and the said lord lieutenant, by and with 
 the advice and consent of the said Thomas lord viscount 
 Dillon of Costologh, lord president of Connaght, Don- 
 nogh lord viscount Muskerry, Francis lord baron of 
 Afhunry, &c. or any seven or more of them, shall name 
 the said persons so to be authorized, and to do all other 
 things incident unto and necessary for the settling of 
 the said intended judicatures. 
 
 XXXIV. Item, At the instance, humble suit, and 
 earnest desire of the general assembly of the confede- 
 rate Roman Catholics, it is concluded, accorded, and 
 agreed upon, that the Roman Catholic regular clergy 
 of tiiis kingdom, behaving themselves conformable to 
 these articles of peace, shall not be molested in tlje 
 possessions which at present they have of, and in the 
 bodies, sites, and precincts of such abbeys and monas- 
 teries belonging to any Roman Catholic within the 
 said kingdom, until settlement by parliament; and that 
 the said clergy shall not be molested in the enjoying 
 such pensions as hitherto since the wars they enjoyed 
 for tlieir respective livelihoods from the said Roman 
 Catholics : and the sites and precincts hereby in- 
 tended, are declared to be the body of the abbey, one 
 garden and orchard to each abbey, if any there be, and 
 what else is contained within the walls, meers, or an- 
 cient fences or ditch, that doth supply the wall thereof, 
 and no more. 
 
 XXXV. Item, It is concluded, accorded, and agreed, 
 by and between the said parties, that as to all other de- 
 mands of the said Roman Catholics, for or concerning 
 all or any the matters proposed by them, not granted 
 or assented unto in and by the aforesaid articles, the 
 said Roman Catholics be referred to his majesty's gra- 
 cious favour and further concessions. In witness 
 whereof the said lord lieutenant, for and on the bchalt 
 of his most excellent majesty, to the one part of these 
 articles remaining with the said Roman Catholics, hath 
 put his hand and seal: and sir Richard Blake, knt. in 
 the chair of the general assembly of the said Roman 
 Catholics, by order, command, and unanimous consent 
 of the said Catholics in full assembly, to the other part 
 thereof remaining with the said lord lieutenant, hath 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOXD AND THE IRISH. 
 
 269 
 
 put to his hand and the public seal hitherto used hy 
 the said Roman Catholics, the 17th of January, 1648, 
 and in the 24th year of the reign of our sovereign lord 
 Charles, by the grace of God, king of Great Britain, 
 France, and Ireland, &c 
 
 Sir, 
 I HAVE not thus long forborn to invite you,^with those 
 under your command, to a submission to his majesty's 
 authority in me, and a conjunction with me, in the 
 ways of his service, out of any the least aversion I had 
 to you, or any of them, or out of any disesteem I had 
 to your power, to advance or impede the same ; but 
 out of my fear, whiles those, that have of late usurped 
 power over the subjects of England, held forth the least 
 colourable shadow of moderation in their intentions 
 towards the settlement of church or state, and that in 
 some tolerable way with relation to religion, the inte- 
 rest of the king and crown, the freedom of parliament, 
 the liberties of the subject, any addresses from uie pro- 
 posing the withdrawing of that party from those thus 
 professing, from whom they have received some, and 
 expected further support, would have been but coldly 
 received, and any determination thereupon deferred, in 
 hope and expectation of the forementioned settlement; 
 or that you yourself, who certainly have not wanted a 
 foresight of the sad confusion now covering the face of 
 England, would have declared with me, the lord Inche- 
 queen, and the Protestant army in Munster, in pre- 
 vention thereof; yet my fear was, it would have been 
 as difticult for you, to have carried with you the main 
 body of the army under your command, (not so clear- 
 sighted as yourself,) as it would have been dangerous 
 to you, and those with you well-inclined, to have at- 
 tempted it without them ; but now that the mask of 
 hypocrisy, by which the independent army hath en- 
 snared and enslaved all estates and degrees of men, is 
 laid aside, now that, barefaced, they evidently appear 
 to be the subverters of true religion, and to be the pro- 
 tectors and inviters not only of all false ones, but of 
 irreligion and atheism, now that they have barbarously 
 and inhumanly laid violent, sacrilegious hands upon 
 and murdered God's anointed, and our king, not as 
 heretofore some parricides have done, to make room 
 for some usurper, but in a waj* plainly manifesting their 
 intentions to change the monarchy of England into 
 anarchy, unless their aim be fii-st to constitute an elec- 
 tive kingdom ; and Cromwell or some such John of 
 Leyden being elected, then by the same force, by which 
 they have thus far compassed their ends, to establish a 
 perfect Turkish tyranny ; now that of the three estates 
 of king, lords, and commons, whereof in all ages par- 
 liaments have consisted, there remains only a small 
 number, and they the dregs and scum of the house of 
 commons, picked and awed by the array, a wicked 
 remnant, left for no other end, than yet further if it be 
 possible to delude the people with the name of a parlia- 
 ment : the king being murdered, the lords and the rest 
 of the commons being by unheard -of violence at several 
 times forced from the houses, and some imprisoned. 
 And now that there remains no other liberty in the sub- 
 s 
 
 ject but to profess blasphemous opinions, to revile and 
 tread under foot magistracy, to murder magistrates, 
 and oppress and undo all that are not like-minded with 
 them. Now I say, that I cannot doubt but that you 
 and all with you under your command will take this 
 opportunity to act and declare against so monstrous and 
 unparalleled a rebellion, and that you and they will 
 cheerfully acknowledge, and faithfully seiTe and obey 
 our gracious king Charles II. undoubted heir of his 
 father's crown and virtues; under whose right and 
 conduct we may by God's assistance restore protestant 
 religion to purity, and therein settle it, parliaments to 
 their freedom, good laws to their force, and our fellow- 
 subjects to their just liberties; wherein how glorious 
 and blessed a thing it will be, to be so considerably in- 
 strumental, as you may now make yourself, I leave to 
 you now to consider. And though I conceive, there 
 are not any motives relating to some particular interest 
 to be mentioned after these so weighty considerations, 
 which are such as the world hath not been at any time 
 furnished with ; yet I hold it my part to assure you, 
 that as there is nothing yon can reasonably propose for 
 the safety, satisfaction, or advantage of yourself, or of 
 any that shall adhere to you in what I desire, that I 
 shall not to the uttermost of my power provide for ; so 
 there is nothing I would, nor shall more industriously 
 avoid, than those necessities arising from my duty to 
 God and man, that 'may by your rejeciiug this offer 
 force me to be a sad instrument of shedding English 
 blood, which in such case must on both sides happen. 
 If this overture find place with you, as I earnestly wish 
 it may, let me know with what possible speed you can, 
 and if you please by the bearer, in what way you desire 
 it shall be drawn on to a conclusion. For in that, 
 as well as in the substance, you shall find all ready 
 compliance from me, that desire to be 
 
 Your affectionate friend to serve you, 
 
 Carrie*, March 9, 1648. ORMOND. 
 
 For Colonel Michael Jones, 
 Governor of Dublin. 
 
 Mv Lord, 
 
 Your lordship's of the ninth I received the twelfth 
 instant, and therein have I your lordship's invitation to 
 a conjunction with yourself (I suppose) as lord lieu- 
 tenant of Ireland, and with others now united with the 
 Irish, and with the Irish themselves also. 
 
 As I understand not how your lordship should be in- 
 vested with that power pretended, so am I very well 
 assured, that it is not in the power of any without the 
 parliament of England, to give and assure pardon to 
 those bloody rebels, £is by the act to that end passed 
 may appear more fully. I am also well assured, that 
 the parliament of England would never assent to such 
 a peace, (such as is that of your lordship's with the 
 rebels,) wherein is little or no ])rovision made either for 
 the protestants or the protestant religion. Nor can I 
 understand how the protestant religion should be settled 
 and restored to its purity by an army of papists, or the 
 protestant interests maintained by those very enemies, 
 
260 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 l>j whom tliey have been spoiled and there slaujfliter- 
 ed : and very evident it is, that both the protestants 
 and protestant religion arc, in that your lordship's 
 treaty, left as in the power of the rebels, to be by them 
 bonic down and rooted out at pleasure. 
 
 As for that consideration by j'our lordship offered of 
 the present and late proceedings in England, I see not 
 how it may be a sufficient motive to me (or any other 
 in like trust for the parliament of England in the ser- 
 vice of the kingdom) to join with those rebels, upon 
 any the pretences in that your lordship's letter men- 
 tioned; for therein were there a manifest betraying 
 that trust reposed in liie, in deserting the service and 
 work committed to me, in joining with those I shall 
 oppose, and in opposing whom I am obliged to serve. 
 
 Neither conceive I it any part of my work and care, 
 to take notice of any whatsoever proceedings of state, 
 foreign to my charge and trust here, especially they 
 being found hereunto apparently destructive. 
 
 Most certain it is, and former ages have approved it, 
 that the intermeddling of governors and parties in this 
 kingdom, with sidings and parties in England, have 
 been the very betraying of this kingdom to the Irish, 
 whiles the British forces here bad been thereupon 
 called off, and the place therein laid open, and as it 
 were given up to the common enemy. 
 
 It is what your lordship might have observed in your 
 former treaty with the rebels, that, upon your lordship's 
 thereupon withdrawing, and sending hence into Eng- 
 land the most considerable part of the English army 
 then commanded by you ; thereby was the remaining 
 British party not long after overpowered, and your 
 quarters by the Irish overrun to the gates of Dublin, 
 yourself also reduced to that low condition, as to be be- 
 sieged in this very city, (the metropolis and principal 
 citadel of the kingdom,) and that by those rebels, 
 who till then could never stand before you : and what 
 the end hath been of that party, also so sent by your 
 lordship into England, (although the flower and strength 
 of the English army here, both officers and soldiers,) 
 hath been very observable. 
 
 And how much the dani^ers are at present (more 
 than in former ages) of hazarding the English interest 
 in this kingdom, by sending any parties hence into 
 any other kingdom upon any pretences whatsoever, is 
 very apparent, as in the generality of the rebellion, 
 now more than formerly ; so considering your lord- 
 ship's present conclusions with and concessions to the 
 rebels, wherein they are allowed the continual posses- 
 sion of all the cities, forts, and places of strength, where- 
 of they stood possessed at the time of their treaty with 
 your lordship, and that they are to have a standing 
 force (if I well remember) of 15000 foot and 2500 
 horse, (all of their own party, officers and soldiers,) and 
 they (with the whole kingdom) to be regulated by a 
 major part of Irish trustees, chosen by the rebels them- 
 selves, as persons for their interests and ends, to be by 
 them confided in, without whom nothing is to be acted. 
 Therein I cannot but mind your lordship of what hath 
 been sometimes by yourself delivered, as your sense in 
 this particular; that the English interest in Ireland 
 
 must be preserved by the English, and not by Irish ; 
 and upon that ground (if I be not deceived) did your 
 lordship then capitulate with the parliament of Eiig 
 land, from which clear principle I am sorry to see your 
 lordship now receding. 
 
 As to that by your lordship menaced us here, of 
 blood and force, if dissenting from your lordship's ways 
 and design^, for my particular I shall (my lord) much 
 rather choose to suffer in so doing, (for therein sliall I 
 do what is becoming, and answerable to my trust,) than 
 to purchase myself on the contrary the ignominious 
 brand of perfidy by any allurements of whatsoever ad- 
 vantages offered me. 
 
 But very confident I am of the same divine power, 
 which hath still followed me in this work, and will 
 still follow me ; and in that trust doubt nothing of thus 
 giving your lordship plainly this my resolution in that 
 particular. So I remain. 
 
 Your lordship's humble servant, 
 Dublin, March 14th, 1648. (Signed) MIC. JONES. 
 
 For the lord of Ormond these. 
 
 LORD LIEUTENANT GENERAL OF IRELAND. 
 
 Ormond, 
 
 Whereas our late sovereign lord king Charles o( 
 happy memory hath been lately by a party of his re- 
 bellious subjects of England most traitorously, mali« 
 ciously, and inhumanly put to death and murdered; 
 and forasmuch as his majesty that now is, Charles bj 
 the grace of God king of England, Scotland, France, 
 and Ireland, is son and heir of his said late majesty; 
 and therefore by the laws of the land, of force, and 
 practised in all ages, is to inherit. We therefore, ii 
 discharge of the duty we owe unto God, our allegianw 
 and loyalty to our sovereign, holding it fit him so tfl 
 proclaim in and through this his majesty's kingdom, 
 do by this our present proclamation declare and mant' 
 fest to the world. That Charles II, son and heir of oui 
 sovereign lord king Charles I, of happy memory, ia 
 by the grace of God, the undoubted king of England^ 
 Scotland, France, and Ireland, defender of the faith, fkc. 
 Given at Carrick, Feb. 26th, 1648. 
 
 GOD SAVE THE KINGS 
 
 A NECESSARY REPRESENTATION 
 
 0/ the present Evils and imminent Dangerx to Religion 
 Laws, and Liberties, arising from the late and pre 
 sent practices of the sectarian party in England : to 
 getlier with an Exhortation to duties relating to th 
 covenant, unto all within our charge, and to all tht 
 well-affected within this kingdom, by the Presbyteri 
 at Belfast, February the 15th, 1649. 
 
 When we seriously consider the great and manj 
 duties, which we owe unto God and bis people, over" 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 261 
 
 whom he hath made us overseers, and for whom we 
 must g-ive an account ; and when we behold the laud- 
 able examples of the worthy ministers of the province 
 of London, and of the commissioners of the general 
 assembly of the church of Scotland, in their free and 
 faithful testimonies ag^ainst the insolencies of the sec- 
 tarian party in England : considering also the depen- 
 dency of this kingdom upon the kingdom of England, 
 and remembering how against strong oppositions we 
 were assisted by the Lord the last year in the discharge 
 of the like duty, and how he punished the contempt of 
 our warning upon the despisers thereof: we find our- 
 selves as necessitated, so the more encouraged, to cast 
 in our mite in the treasury, lest our silence should in- 
 volve us in the guilt of unfaithfulness, and our people 
 in security and neglect of duties. 
 
 In this discharge of the trust put upon us by God, 
 we would not be looked upon as sowers of sedition, or 
 broachers of national and divisive motions; our record 
 is in heaven, that nothing is more hateful unto us, nor 
 less intended by us, and therefore we shall not fear the 
 malicious and wicked aspersions, which we know Satan 
 by his instruments is ready to cast, not only upon us, 
 but on all who sincerely endeavour the advancement of 
 reformation. 
 
 What of late have been, and now are, the insolent 
 and presumptuous practices of the sectaries in Eng- 
 land, is not unknown to the world : for, First, notwith- 
 standing their specious pretences for religion and liber- 
 ties, yet their late and present actings, being therewith 
 compared, do clearly evidence, that they love a rough 
 garment to deceive ; since they have with a high hand 
 despised the oath, in breaking the covenant, which is 
 so strong a foundation to both, whilst they load it with 
 slighting reproaches, calling it a bundle of particular 
 and contrary interests, and a snare to the people ; and 
 likewise labour to establish by laws an universal tole- 
 ration of all religions, which is an innovation overturn- 
 ing of unity in religion, and so directly repugnant to 
 the Avord of God, the two first articles of our solemn 
 covenant, which is the greatest wickedness in them to 
 violate, since many of the chiefest of themselves have, 
 with their hands, testified to the most high God, sworn 
 and sealed it. 
 
 Moreover, their great disaffection to the settlement 
 of religion, and so their future breach of covenant, doth 
 more fully appear by their strong oppositions to Pres- 
 byterian government, (the hedge and bulwark of re- 
 ligion,) whilst they express their hatred to it more than 
 to the worst of errours,by excluding it under the name 
 of compulsion; when they embrace even Paganism 
 and Judaism in the arms of toleration. Not to speak 
 of their aspersions upon it, and the assertors thereof, as 
 antichristian and popish, though they have deeply 
 sworn, to maintain the same government in the first 
 article of the covenant, as it is established in the church 
 of Scotland, which they now so despitefuUy blaspheme. 
 
 Again, it is more than manifest, that they seek not 
 the vindication, but the extirpation of laws and liber- 
 ties, as appears by their seizing on the person of the 
 king, and at their pleasures removing him from place 
 
 to place, not only without the consent, but (if we mis- 
 take not) against a direct ordinance of parliament : 
 their violent surprising, imprisoning, and scchiding 
 many of the most worthy members of the honourable 
 house of commons, directly against a declared privilege 
 of parliament, (an action certainly without parallel in 
 any age,) and their purposes of abolishing parliamentary 
 power for the future, and establishing of a represent- 
 ative (as they call it) instead thereof Neither hath 
 their fury staid here, but without all rule or example, 
 being but private men, they have proceeded to the trial 
 of the king, against both interest and protestation of 
 the kingdom of Scotland, and the former public decla- 
 rations of both kingdoms, (besides the violent haste, re- 
 jecting the hearing of any defences,) with cruel handjt 
 have put him to death ; an act so horrible, as no history, 
 divine or human, hath laid a precedent of the like. 
 
 These and many other their detestable insolencies 
 may abundantly convince every unbiassed judgment, 
 that the present practice of the sectaries and their abet- 
 tors do directly overturn the laws and liberties of the 
 kingdoms, root out lawful and supreme magistracy, 
 (the just privileges whereof we have sworn to main- 
 tain,) and introduce a fearful confusiou and lawless 
 anarchy. 
 
 The Spirit of God by Solomon tells us, Prov. xxx. 
 21, That a servant to reign, is one of the four things 
 for which the earth is disquieted, and which it cannot 
 bear : we wonder nothing, that the earth is disquieted 
 for these things ; but we wonder greatly, if the earth 
 can bear them. And albeit the Lord so permit, that 
 folly be set in great dignity, and they which sit in low 
 place ; " that servants ride upon hoi-ses, and princes 
 walk as servants upon the earth," Eccles, x. ver. 6, 7, 
 yet the same wise man saith, Prov. xix, " Delight is 
 not seemly for a fool, much less for a servant to have 
 rule over princes." 
 
 W^hcn we consider these things, we cannot but de- 
 clare and manifest our utter dislike and detestation of 
 such unwarrantable practices, directly subverting our 
 covenant, religion, laws, and liberties. And as watch- 
 men in Sion, warn all the lovers of truth and well- 
 aflfected to the covenant, carefully to avoid compliance 
 with, or not bearing witness against, horrid insolencies, 
 lest partaking with them in their sins, they also be 
 partakers of their plagues. Therefore in the spirit of 
 meekness, we earnestly intreat, and in the authority of 
 Jesus Christ (whose servants we are) charge and obtest 
 all, who resolve to adhere unto truth and the covenant, 
 diligently to observe, and conscientiously to perform, 
 these following duties. 
 
 First, That, according to our solemn covenant, every 
 one study more the power of godliness and personal 
 reformation of themselves and families ; because, for 
 the great breach of this part of the covenant, God is 
 highly oflTended with these lands, and justly provoked 
 to permit men to be the instruments of our misery and 
 afflictions. 
 
 Secondly, That every one in their station and calling 
 eamestly contend for the faith, which was once de- 
 livered to the saints, Jude 3. And seek to have their 
 
SIB2 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE. 
 
 hearts established with grace, that they be not unstable 
 and wavering', carried about with every wind of doc- 
 trine ; but that they receive the truth in love, avoiding 
 the company of such as withdraw from and vilify the 
 public ordinances ; speak evil of church-government; 
 invent damnable errours, under the specious pretence 
 of a gospel-way and new light ; and highly extol the 
 persons and courses of notorious sectaries, lest God give 
 them over to strong delusions (the plague of these 
 times) that they may believe lies, and be damned. 
 
 Thirdly, That they would not be drawn by counsel, 
 command, or example, to shake off the ancient and 
 fundamental government of these kingdoms by king 
 and parliament, which we are so deeply engaged to 
 preserve by our solemn covenant, as they would not be 
 found guilty of the great evil of these times, (condemn- 
 ed by the Holy Ghost,) the despising of dominion and 
 speaking evil of dignities. 
 
 Fourthly, That they do cordially endeavour the pre- 
 sen'ation of the union amongst the well-affected in the 
 kingdoms, not being swayed by any national respect : 
 remembering that part of the covenant ; " that we shall 
 not suffer ourselves directly nor indirectly, by what- 
 
 soever combination, persuasion, or terrour, to be divided 
 or withdrawn from this blessed union and conjunc- 
 tion." 
 
 And Finally, Albeit there be more present hazard 
 from the power of sectaries, (as were from malignants 
 the last year,) yet we are not ignorant of the evil pur- 
 poses of malignants, even at this time, in all the king- 
 doms, and particularly in this ; and for this cause, we 
 exhort every one with equal watchfulness to keep 
 themselves free from associating with such, or from 
 swerving in their judgments to malignant principles; 
 and to avoid all such persons as have been from the 
 beginning known opposere of reformation, refusers of 
 the covenant, combining themselves with papists and 
 other notorious malignants, especially such who have 
 been chief promoters of the late engagement against 
 England, calumniators of the work of reformation, in 
 reputing the miseries of the present times unto the ad- 
 vancers thereof; and that their just hatred to sectaries 
 incline not their minds to favour malignants, or to 
 think, that, because of the power of sectaries, tlie cause 
 of God needs the more to fear the enmity, or to stand 
 in need of the help, of malignants. 
 
 OBSERVATIONS 
 
 UPON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 WITH THE IRISH REBELS, ON THE LETTER OF ORMOND TO COLONEL JONES, AND THE 
 REPRESENTATION OF THE PRESBYTERY AT BELFAST. 
 
 Although it be a maxim much agreeable to wis- 
 dom, that just deeds are the best answer to injurious 
 words ; and actions of whatever sort, their own plain- 
 est interpreters; yet since our enemies can find the 
 leisure both ways to offend us, it will be requisite, we 
 should be found in neither of those ways neglectful of 
 our just defence : to let them know, that sincere and 
 upright intentions can certainly with as much ease de- 
 liver themselves into words as into deeds. 
 
 Having therefore seen of late those articles of peace 
 granted to the papist rebels of Ireland, as special graces 
 and favours from the late king, in reward, most likely, 
 of their work done, and in his name and authority con- 
 firmed and ratified by James earl of Ormond ; together 
 with his letter to Colonel Jones, governor of Dublin, 
 full of contumely and dishonour, both to the parliament 
 and army : and on the other side, an insolent and se- 
 ditious representation from the Scots presbytery at 
 Belfast in the North of Ireland, no less dishonourable 
 to the state, and much about the same time brought 
 hither: there will be needful as to the same slanderous 
 aspersions but one and the same vindication against 
 them both. Nor can we sever them in our notice and 
 resentment, though one part entitled a presbytery, and 
 
 would be thought a protestant assembly, since their 
 own unexampled virulence hath wrapt them into the 
 same guilt, made them accomplices and assistants tOi 
 the abhorred Irish rebels, and with them at present tq 
 advance the same interest : if we consider both theij 
 calumnies, their hatred, and the pretended reasons oi 
 their hatred to be the same ; the time also and th« 
 place concurring, as that there lacks nothing but a {c\ 
 formal words, which may be easily dissembled, to maki 
 the perfectest conjunction ; and between them to divide 
 that island. 
 
 As for these articles of peace made with those inhu^ 
 man rebels and papists of Ireland by the late king, 
 one of his last masterpieces, we may be confidentlj 
 persuaded, that no true-born Englishman can so muct 
 as barely read them without indignation and disdain, 
 that those bloody rebels, and so proclaimed and judged 
 of by the king himself, after the merciless and babaroi 
 massacre of so many thousand English, (who had used 
 their right and title to that country with such tender- 
 ness and moderation, and might otherwise have secured 
 themselves with ease against their treachery,) should 
 be now graced and rewarded with such freedoms anc 
 enlargements, as none of their ancestors could ever' 
 
 Id 
 
 '1 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 263 
 
 merit by their best obedience, which at best was always 
 treacherous; to be enfranchised with full liberty equal 
 to their conqueroi-s, whom the just revenge of ancient 
 piracies, cruel captivities, and the causeless infestation 
 of our coast, had waiTantably called over, and the long- 
 prescription of many hundred years ; besides what 
 other titles are acknowledged by their own Irish par- 
 liament, had fixed and seated in that soil with as good 
 a right as the merest natives. 
 
 These, therefore, by their own foregoing demerits 
 and provocations justly made our vassals, are by the 
 first article of this peace advanced to a condition of 
 freedom superior to what any English protestants durst 
 have demanded. For what else can be tlie meaning 
 to discharge them the common oath of supremacy, es- 
 pecially being papists, (for whom principally that oath 
 was intended,) but either to resign them the more into 
 their own power, or to set a mark of dishonour upon 
 the British loyalty ; by trusting Irish rebels for one 
 .single oath of allegiance, as much as all his subjects of 
 Britain for the double swearing both of allegiance and 
 supremacy ? 
 
 The second article puts it into the hands of an Irish 
 parliament to repeal, or to suspend, if they think con- 
 venient, the act usually called Poyning's Act, which 
 was the main, and yet the civilest and most moderate, 
 acknowledgment imposed of their dependance on the 
 crown of England ; whereby no parliament could be 
 summoned there, no bill be passed, but what was first 
 to be transmitted and allowed under the great seal of 
 England. The recalling of which act tends openly to 
 invest them with a law-giving power of their own, en- 
 ables them by degrees to throw of all subjection to this 
 realm, and renders them (who by their endless treasons 
 and revolts have deserved to hold no parliament at all, 
 but to be governed by edicts and garrisons) as absolute 
 and supreme in that assembly, as the people of Eng- 
 land in their own land. And the twelfth article grants 
 them in express words, that the Irish parliament shall 
 be no more dependent on the parliament of England, 
 than the Irish themselves shall declare agreeable to the 
 laws of Ireland. 
 
 The two and twentieth article, more ridiculous than 
 dangerous, coming especially from such a serious knot 
 of lords and politicians, obtains, that those acts prohibit- 
 ing to plow with horses by the tail, and burn oats in the 
 straw, be repealed ; enough, if nothing else, to declare 
 in them a disposition not only sottish, but indocible, 
 and averse from all civility and amendment : and what 
 hopes they give for the future, who, rejecting the in- 
 genuity of all other nations to improve and wax more 
 civil by a civilizing conquest, though all these many 
 years better shewn and taught, prefer their own absurd 
 and savage customs before the most convincing evi- 
 dence of reason and demonstration : a testimony of 
 their true barbarism and obdurate wilfulness, to be ex- 
 pected no less in other matters of greatest moment. 
 
 Yet such as these, and thus aff*ected, the ninth article 
 entrusts with the militia ; a trust which the king swore 
 by God at Newmarket he would not commit to his par- 
 liament of England, no, not for an hour. And well de- 
 
 clares the confidence he had in Irish rebels, more than 
 in his loyalest subjects. He grants them moreover, 
 till the performance of all these articles, that fifteen 
 thousand foot and two thousand five hundred horse 
 shall remain a standing army of papists at the beck 
 and command of Dillon, Muskerry, and other arch- 
 rebels, Avith power also of adding to that number as 
 they shall see cause. And by other articles allows 
 them the constituting of magistrates and judges in all 
 causes, whom they think fit : and till a settlement to 
 their own minds, the possession of all those towns and 
 countries within their new quarters, being little less 
 than all the island, besides what their cruelty hath dis- 
 peopled and laid waste. And lastly, the whole manag- 
 ing both of peace and war is committed to papists, 
 and the chief leaders of that rebellion. 
 
 Now let all men judge what this wants of utter 
 alienating and acquitting the whole province of Ire- 
 land from all true fealty and obedience to the com- 
 monwealth of England. Which act of any king 
 against the consent of bis parliament, though no other 
 crime were laid against him, might of itself strongly 
 conduce to the disenthroning him of all. In France, 
 Henry the Third, demanding leave in greatest exigen- 
 cies to make sale of some crown-lands only, and that to 
 his subjects, was answered by the parliament then at 
 Blois, that a king in no case, though of extremest ne- 
 cessity, might alienate the patrimony of his crown, 
 whereof he is but only usufructuary, as civilians term 
 it, the propriety remaining ever to the kingdom, not to 
 the king. And in our own nation. King John, for re- 
 signing, though unwillingly, his crown to the ])ope's 
 legate, with little more hazard to his kingdom than 
 the payment of one thousand marks, and the unsightli- 
 ncss of such a ceremony, was deposed by his barons, 
 and Lewis, the French king's son, elected in his room. 
 And to have carried only the jewels, plate, and trea- 
 sure into Ireland, without consent of the nobility, was 
 one of those impeachments, that condemned Richard 
 the Second to lose his crown. 
 
 But how petty a crime this will seem to the alienat- 
 ing of a whole kingdom, which in these articles of peace 
 we see as good as done by the late king, not to friends 
 but to mortal enemies, to the accomplishment of his own 
 interests and ends, wholly separate from the people's 
 good, may without aggravation be easily conceived. 
 Nay, by the covenant itself, since that so cavillously is 
 urged against us, we are enjoined in the fourth article, 
 with all faithfulness to endeavour the bringing all 
 such to public trial and condign punishment, as shall 
 divide one kingdom from another. And what greater 
 dividing than by a pernicious and hostile peace, to 
 disalliege a whole feudary kingdom from the ancient 
 dominion of England ? Exception we find there of no 
 person whatsoever ; and if the king, who hath actually 
 done this, or any for him, claim a privilege above jus- 
 tice, it is again demanded by what express law either 
 of God or man, and why he whose office is to execute 
 law and justice upon all others, should set himself like 
 a demigod in lawless and unbounded anarchy ; refus- 
 ing to be accountable for that authority over men na- 
 
261 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 turally his equals, which God himself without a reason 
 given is not wont to exercise over his creatures f And 
 if God, the nearer to be acquainted with mankind and 
 his frailties, and to become our priest, made himself a 
 man, and subject to the law, we gladly would be in- 
 structed, why any mortal man, for the good and wel- 
 fare of his brethren being made a king, should by a 
 clean contrary motion make himself a god, exalted 
 above law ; the readiest way to become utterly unsen- 
 sible, both of his human condition, and his own duty. 
 
 And how securely, how smootlily, with how little 
 touch or sense of any commiseration, either princely or 
 so much as human, he hath sold away that justice so 
 oft demanded, and so oft by himself acknowledged to 
 be due, for the blood of more than two hundred thousand 
 of his subjects, that never hurt him, never disobeyed 
 him, assassinated and cut in pieces by those Irish bar- 
 barians, to give the first promoting, as is more than 
 thought, to bis own tyrannical designs in England, 
 will appear by the eighteenth article of his peace ; 
 wherein, without the least regard of justice to avenge 
 the dead, while he thirsts to be avenged upon the living, 
 to all the murders, massacres, treasons, piracies, from 
 the very fatal day, wherein that rebellion first broke 
 out, he grants an act of oblivion. If this can be justi- 
 fied, or not punished in whomsoever, while there is any 
 faith, an^' religion, any justice upon earth, there can 
 no reason be alleged, why all things are not left to con- 
 fusion. And thus much be observed in brief concern- 
 ing these articles of peace made by the late king with 
 his Irish rebels. 
 
 The letter of Ormond sent to Colonel Jones, gover- 
 nor of Dublin, attempting his fidelity, which the dis- 
 cretion and true wortli of that gentleman hath so well 
 answered and repulsed, had passed here without men- 
 tion, but that the other part of it, not content to do the 
 errand of treason, roves into a long digression of evil 
 and reproachful language to the parliament and army 
 of England, which though not worth their notice, as 
 from a crew of rebels whose inhumanities are long 
 since become the borrour and execration of all that hear 
 them, 3'et in the pursuance of a good endeavour, to 
 give the world all due satisfaction of the present doings, 
 no opportunity shall be omitted. 
 
 He accuses first, " That we are the subverters of re- 
 ligion, the protectors and inviters not only of all false 
 ones, but of irreligion and atheism." An accusation 
 that no man living could more unjustly use than our 
 accuser himself; and which, without a strange besot- 
 ted ness, he could not expect but to be retorted upon 
 his own head. All men, who are true protestants, of 
 which number he gives out to be one, know not a more 
 immediate and killing subverter of all true religion 
 than Antichrist, whom they generally believe to be the 
 pope and church of Rome ; he therefore, who makes 
 peace with this grand enemy and persecutor of the true 
 church, he who joins with him, strengthens him, gives 
 him root to grow up and spread his poison, removing 
 all opposition against him, granting him schools, ab- 
 beys, and revenues, garrisons, towns, fortresses, as in 
 so many of those articles may be seen, he of all protes- 
 
 tants may be called most justly the subverter of true 
 religion, the protector and inviter of irreligion and 
 atheism, whether it be Ormond or his master. And if 
 it can be no way proved, that the parliament hath 
 countenanced popery oi papists, but have every where 
 broken their temporal power, thrown down their pub- 
 lic superstitions, and confined them to the bare enjoy- 
 ment of that which is not in our reach, their con- 
 sciences ; if they have encouraged all true ministers of 
 the gospel, that is to say, afforded them favour and pro- 
 tection in all places where tliey preached, and although 
 they think not money or stipend to be the best en- 
 couragement of a true pastor, yet therein also have not 
 been wanting nor intend to be, they doubt not then to 
 affirm themselves, not the subverters, but the main- 
 tainers and defenders, of true religion ; which of itself 
 and by consequence is the surest and the strongest sub- 
 version, not only of all false ones, but of irreligion and 
 atheism. For " the weapons of that warfare," as the 
 apostle testifies, who best knew, " are not carnal, but 
 mighty through God to the pulling down of strong 
 holds, and all reasonings, and every high thing exalt- 
 ed against the knowledge of God, surprising every 
 thought unto the obedience of Christ, and easily re- 
 venging all disobedience," 2 Cor. x. What minister or 
 clergyman, that either understood his high calling, or 
 sought not to erect a secular and carnal tyranny over 
 spiritual things, would neglect this ample and sublime 
 power conferred upon him, and come a begging to the 
 weak hand of magistracy for that kind of aid which, 
 the magistrate hath no commission to afford him, and 
 in the way he seeks it hath been always found helpless 
 and unprofitable. Neither is it unknown, or by wisest 
 men unobserved, that the church began then most ap-   
 parently to degenerate, and go to ruin, when she bor- 
 rowed of the civil power more than fair encouragement 
 and protection ; more than which Christ himself and 
 his apostles never required. To say therefore, that we 
 protect and invite all false religions, with irreligion 
 also and atheism, because we lend not, or rather mis- 
 apply not, the temporal power to help out, though in 
 vain, the sloth, the spleen, the insufficiency of church- 
 men, in the execution of spiritual discipline over those 
 within their charge, or those without, is an imputation 
 that may be laid as well upon the best regulated states 
 and governments through the world : who have been 
 so prudent as never to employ the civil sword further 
 than the edge of it could reach, that is, to civil offences 
 only ; proving always against objects that were spi- 
 ritual a ridiculous weapon. Our protection therefore 
 to men in civil matters unoffensive we cannot deny ; 
 their consciences we leave, as not w ithin our cogni- 
 zance, to the proper cure of instruction, pray ing for them. 
 Nevertheless, if any be found among us declared athe- 
 ists, malicious enemies of God, and of Christ; the par- 
 liament, I think, professes not to tolerate such, but 
 with all befitting endeavours to suppress them. Other- 
 ways to protect none that in a larger way may be taxed 
 of irreligion and atheism, may perhaps be the ready 
 way to exclude none sooner out of protection, than 
 those themselves that most accuse it to be so general to 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 2G5 
 
 others. Lastly, that we invite such as these, or en- 
 courag-e them, is a mere slander without proof. 
 
 He tells us next, that they have murdered the king. 
 And they deny not to have justly 'and undauntedly, as 
 became the parliament of England, for more blood- 
 shed and other heinous crimes than ever king of this 
 land was guilty of, after open trial, punished him with 
 death. A matter, which to men, whose serious con- 
 sideration thereof hath left no certain precept or exam- 
 ple undebated, is so far from giving offence, that we 
 implore and heseech the Divine Majesty so to uphold 
 and support their spirits with like fortitude and mag- 
 nanimity, that all their ensuing actions may correspond 
 and prove worthy that impartial and uoble piece of 
 justice, wherein the hand of God appeared so evidently 
 on our side. We shall not then need to fear, what 
 all the rout and faction of men basely principled can 
 do against us. 
 
 •-The end of our proceedings, which he takes upon 
 kim to have discovered, " the changing forsooth of 
 monarchy into anarchy," sounds so like the smattering 
 of some raw politician, and the overworn objection of 
 every trivial talker, that we leave him in the number. 
 But seeing in that which follows he contains not him- 
 self, but, contrary to what a gentleman should know 
 of civility, proceeds to the contemptuous naming of a 
 person, whose valour and high merit many enemies 
 more noble than himself have both honoured and feared; 
 to assert his good name and reputation, of whose ser- 
 vice the commonwealth receives so ample satisfaction, 
 it is answered in his behalf, that Cromwell, whom he 
 couples with a name of scorn, hath done in few years 
 more eminent and remarkable deeds, whereon to found 
 nobility in his house, though it were wanting, and 
 perpetual renown to posterity, than Ormond and all 
 his ancestors put together can shew from any record 
 of their Irish exploits, the widest scene of their glory. 
 He passes on his groundless objectures, that the aim 
 of this parliament may be perhaps to set up first an 
 elective kingdom, and after that a perfect Turkish 
 tyranny. Of the former we suppose the late act against 
 monarchy will suffice to acquit them. Of the latter 
 certainly there needed no other pattern than that ty- 
 ranny, which was so long modelling by the late king 
 himself, with Strafford, and that archprelate of Canter- 
 bury, his chief instruments ; whose designs God hath 
 dissipated. Neither is it any new project of the mon- 
 archs, and their courtiers in these days, though 
 Christians they would be thought, to endeavour the 
 introducing of a plain Turkish tyranny. Witness 
 that consultation had in the court of France under 
 Charles the IXth at Blois, wherein Poncet, a certain 
 court-projector, brought in secretly by the chancellor 
 Biragha, after many praises of the Ottoman govern- 
 ment, proposes means and wajs at large, in presence of 
 the king, the queen regent, and Anjou the king's bro- 
 ther, how with best expedition and least noise the 
 Turkish tyranny might be set up in France. It ap- 
 pears therefore, that the design of bringing in that 
 tyranny, is a monarchical design, and not of those who 
 have dissolved monarchy. 
 
 As for parliaments by three estates, we know, that a 
 parliament signifies no more than the supreme and ge- 
 neral council of a nation, consisting of whomsoever 
 chosen and assembled for the public good ; which was 
 ever practised, and in all sorts of government, before 
 tlie word parliament, or the formality, or the possibi- 
 lity of those three estates, or such a thing as a titular 
 monarchy, had either name or being in the world. The 
 original of all which we could produce to be far newer 
 tlian those " all ages" which he vaunts of, and by such 
 first invented and contrived, whose authority, though 
 it were Charles Martel, stands not so high in our re- 
 pute, either for himself, or the age he lived in, but that 
 with as good warrant we may recede from what he 
 ordained, as he ordain what before was not. 
 
 But whereas besides he is bold to allege, that of the 
 three estates there remains only a small number, and 
 they the " dregs and scum of the house of commons;" 
 this reproach, and in the mouth of an Irishman, con- 
 cerns not them only ; but redounds to apparent dis- 
 honour of the whole English nation. Doubtless there 
 must be thought a great scarcity in England of persons 
 honourable and deserving, or else of judgment, or so 
 much as honesty in the people, if those, whom they 
 esteem worthy to sit in parliament, be no better than 
 scum and dregs in the Irish dialect. But of such like 
 stuff we meet not any where with more excrescence 
 than in his own lavish pen; which feeling itself loose 
 without the reins of discretion, rambles for the most 
 part beyond all soberness and civility. In which tor- 
 rent he goes on negociating and cheapening the loy- 
 alty of our faithful governor of Dublin, as if the known 
 and tried constancy of that valiant gentleman were to 
 be bought with court fumes. 
 
 He lays before him, that "there remains now no 
 other liberty in the subject, but to profess blaj^phemous 
 opinions, to revile and tread under foot magistracy, to 
 murder magistrates, to oppress and undo all that are 
 not like-minded with us." Forgetting in the mean 
 while himself to be in the head of a mixed rabble, part 
 papists, part fugitives, and part savages, guilty in the 
 highest degree of all these crimes. What more blas- 
 phemous, not opinion, but whole religion, than popery, 
 plunged into idolatrous and ceremonial superstition, the 
 very death of all true religion; figured to us by the 
 Scripture itself in the shape of that beast, full of the 
 names of blasphemy, which we mention to him as to 
 one that woultl be counted protestant, and iiad his 
 breeding in the house of a bishop? And who are those 
 that have trod under foot magistracy, murdered magis- 
 trates, oppressed and undone all that sided not with 
 them, but the Irish rebels, in that horrible conspiracy, 
 for which Ormond himself hath either been or seemed 
 to be their enemy, though now their ringleader ? And 
 let him ask the Jesuits about him, whether it be not 
 their known doctrine and also practice, not by fair and 
 due process of justice to punish kings and magistrates, 
 which we disavow not, but to murder them in the basest 
 and most assassinous manner, if their church interest 
 so require. There will not need more words to this 
 windy railer, convicted openly of all those crimes, 
 
266 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 wliicb he so confidently, and yet falsely, charg^es upon 
 others. 
 
 We have now to deal, thoujjh in the same country, 
 with another sort of adversaries, in shew far different, 
 in substance much what the same. These write them- 
 selves the presbytery of Belfast, a place better known 
 by the name of a late barony, than by the fame of 
 these men's doctrine or ecclesiastical deeds : whose 
 obscurity till now never came to our hearing'. And 
 surely we should think this their representment far be- 
 neath considerable, who have neglected and passed 
 over the like unadvisedness of their fellows in other 
 places more near us, were it not to observe in some par- 
 ticulars the sympathy, good intelligence, and joint pace 
 which they go in the north of Ireland, with their co- 
 partning rebels in the south, driving on the same in- 
 terest to lose us that kingdom, that they may gain it 
 themselves, or at least share in the spoil : though the 
 other be open enemies, these pretended brethren. 
 
 The introduction of their manifesto out of doubt must 
 be zealous ; " Their duty," they say, " to God and his 
 people, over whom he hath made them overseers, and 
 for whom they must give account." What mean these 
 men ? Is the presbytery of Belfast, a small town in 
 Ulster, of so large extent, that their voices cannot serve 
 to teach duties in the congregation which they oversee, 
 without spreading and divulging to all parts, far be- 
 yond the diocess of Patrick or Columba, their written 
 representation, under the subtle pretence of feeding 
 their own flock ? Or do they think to oversee, or un- 
 dertake to grive an account for, all to whom their paper 
 sends greeting ? St. Paul to the elders of Ephesus 
 thinks it sufficient to give charge, " That they take 
 heed to themselves, and to the flock over which they 
 were made overseers," beyond those bounds he enlarges 
 not their commission. And surely when we put down 
 bishops and put up presbyters, which the most of them 
 have made use of to enrich and exalt themselves, and 
 turn the first heel against their benefactors, we did not 
 think, that one classic fraternity, so obscure and so re- 
 mote, should involve us and all state-affairs within the 
 censure and jurisdiction of Belfast, upon pretence of 
 overseeing their own charge. 
 
 We very well know, that church-censures are limited 
 to church-matters, and these within the compass of their 
 own province, or to say more truly, of their own con- 
 gregation ; that affairs of state are not for their meddling, 
 as we could urge even from their own invectives and 
 protestations against the bishops, wherein they tell 
 them with much fervency, that ministers of the gospel, 
 neither by that function, nor any other which they 
 ought accept, have the least warrant to be pragmatical 
 in the state. 
 
 And surely in vain were bishops for these and other 
 causes forbid to sit and vote in the house, if these men 
 out of the bouse, and %vithout vote, shall claim and be 
 permitted more licence on their presbyterial stools, to 
 breed continual disturbance by interposing in the com- 
 monwealth. But seeing that now, since their heaving 
 out the prelates to heave in themselves, they devise new 
 ways to bring both ends together, which will never 
 
 meet; that is to say, their former doctrine willj their 
 present doings, as " that they cannot else teach magis- 
 trates and subjects their duty, and that they have be- 
 sides a right tliemselves to speak as members of the 
 commonwealth :" let them know, that there is a wide 
 difference between the general exhortation to justice 
 and obedience, which in this point is the utmost of their 
 duty, and the state-disputes wherein tliey are now 
 grown such busy-bodies, to preach of titles, interests, 
 and alterations in government : more than our Saviour 
 himself, or any of his apostles, ever took upon them, 
 though the title both of Ceesar and of Herod, and what 
 they did in matters of state, might have then admitted 
 controversy enough. 
 
 Next, for their civil capacities, we are sure, that 
 pulpits and church-assemblies, whether classical or 
 provincial, never were intended or allowed by wise 
 magistrates, no, nor by him that sent them, to advance 
 such purposes, but that as members of the common- 
 wealth they ought to mix with other commoners, and 
 in that temporal body to assume nothing above other 
 private persons, or otherwise than in a usual and legal 
 manner : not by distinct remonstrances and represeut- 
 ments, as if they were a tribe and party by themselves, 
 which is the next immediate way to make the church 
 lift a horn against the state, and claim an absolute and 
 undepending jurisdiction, as from like advantage and 
 occasion (to the trouble of all Christendom) the pope 
 hath for many ages done ; and not only our bishops 
 were climbing after him, but our presbyters also, as 
 by late experiment we find. Of this representation 
 therefore we can esteem and judge no other than of 
 slanderous and seditious libel, sent abroad by a sort o: 
 incendiaries, to delude and make the better way under 
 the cunning and plausible name of a presbytery. 
 
 A second reason of their representing is, " that they 
 consider the dependance of that kingdom upon Eng- 
 land," which is another shameless untruth that ever 
 they considered ; as their own actions will declare, by 
 conniving, and in their silence partaking, with those in 
 Ulster, whose obedience, by what we have yet heard, 
 stands dubious, and with an eye of conformity rather 
 to the north, than to that part where they owe their 
 subjection ; and this in all likelihood by the inducement 
 and instigation of these representers : who are so far 
 from considering their dependance on England, as to 
 presume at every word to term proceedings of parlia- 
 ment, " the insolencies of a sectarian party, and of pri- 
 vate men." Despising dominion, and speaking evil j 
 of dignities, which hypocritically they would seem to ^ 
 dissuade others from ; and not fearing the due correc- 
 tion of their superiors, that may in fit season overtake 
 them. Whenas the least consideration of their depend- 
 ance on England, would have kept tliem better in their 
 duty. 
 
 The third reason which they use makes against them ; 
 the remembrance how God punished the contempt of 
 their warning last year upoii the breakers of covenant, 
 whenas the next year after tliey forget the warning of 
 that punishment hanging over their own beads for the 
 very same transgression, their manifest breach of cove- 
 
 ts J 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 267 
 
 naut by this seditious representation, accompanied with 
 the doubtful obedience of that province which repre- 
 sents it. 
 
 And thus we have their preface supported with three 
 reasons ; two of them notorious falsities, and the third 
 against themselves ; and two examples, " the province 
 of London, and the commissioners of the kirk-assembly." 
 But certain, if canonical examples bind not, much less 
 do apocryphal. 
 
 Proceeding- to avouch the trust put upon them by 
 God, which is plainly proved to be none of this nature, 
 "they would not be looked upon as sowers of sedition, 
 or authors of divisive motions; their record," they say, 
 " is in heaven," and their truth and honesty no man 
 knows where. For is not this a shameless hypocrisy, 
 and of mere wolves in sheep's clothing, to sow sedition 
 in the ears of all men, and to face us down to the very 
 act, that they are authors of no such matter.' But let 
 the sequel both of their paper, and the obedience of the 
 place wherein they are, determine. 
 
 Nay, while we are yet writing these things, and 
 foretelling all men the rebellion, which was even then 
 designed in the close purpose of these unhallowed 
 priestlings, at the very time when with their lips they 
 disclaimed all sowing of sedition, news is brought, and 
 too true, that the Scottish inhabitants of that province 
 are actually revolted, and have not only besieged in 
 Londonderry those forces, which were to have fought 
 against Ormond and the Irish rebels ; but have in a 
 manner declared with them, and begun open war 
 against the parliament ; and all this by the incitement 
 and illusions of that unchristian synagogue at Belfast, 
 who yet dare charge the parliament, " that, notwith- 
 standing specious pretences, yet their actings do evi- 
 dence, that they love a rough garment to deceive." 
 The deceit we own not, but the comparison, by what 
 at first sight may seem alluded, we accept: for that 
 hairy roughness assumed won Jacob the birthright 
 both temporal and eternal ; and God we trust hath so 
 disposed the mouth of these Balaams, that, coming to 
 curse, they have stumbled into a kind of blessing, and 
 compared our actings to the faithful act of that patri- 
 arch. 
 
 But if they mean, as more probably their meaning 
 was, that " rough garment" spoken of Zach. xiii. 4, 
 we maj' then behold the pitiful store of learning and 
 theology, which tiiese deceivers have thought sufficient 
 to uphold their credit with the people, who, though the 
 rancour that leavens them have somewhat quickened 
 the common drawling of their pulpit elocution, yet for 
 want of stock enough in scripture-phrase to serve the 
 necessary uses of their malice, they are become so libe- 
 ral, as to part freely with their own budge-gowns from 
 off their backs, and bestow them on the magistrate as 
 a rough garment to deceive ; rather than not be fur- 
 nished with a reproach, though never so improper, 
 never so odious to be turned upon themselves. For 
 but with half an eye cast upon that text, any man will 
 soon discern that rough garment to be their own coat, 
 their own livery, the very badge and cognizance of 
 such false prophets as themselves, Who, when they 
 
 understand, or ever seriously mind, the beginning of 
 that 4th verse, may " be ashamed every one of his 
 lying vision," and may justly fear that foregoing de- 
 nouncement to such " as speak lies in the name of the 
 Lord," verse 3, lurking under the rough garment of 
 outward rigour and formality, wliereby they cheat the 
 simple. So that " this rough garment to deceive" we 
 bring ye once again, grave sirs, into your own vestry; 
 or with Zachary shall not think much to fit it to your 
 own shoulders. To bestow aught in good earnest on 
 the magistrate, we know your classic priestship is too 
 gripple, for ye are always begging : and for this rough 
 gown to deceive, we are confident ye cannot spare it ; 
 it is your Sunday's gown, your every day gown, your 
 only gown, the gown of your faculty ; your divining 
 gown ; to take it from ye were sacrilege. Wear it 
 therefore, and possess it yourselves, most grave and 
 reverend Carmelites, that all men, both young and old, 
 as we hope they will shortly, may yet better know ^-e, 
 and distinguish ye by it ; and give to your rough 
 gown, wherever they meet it, whether in pulpit, classis, 
 or provincial synod, tlie precedency and the pre-emi- 
 nence of deceiving. 
 
 They charge us next, that we have broken the cove- 
 nant, and loaden it with slighting reproaches. For 
 the reproaching, let them answer that are guilty, 
 whereof the state we are sure cannot be accused. For 
 the breaking, let us hear wherein. " In labouring," 
 say they, " to establish by law a universal toleration 
 of all religions." This touches not the state ; for cer- 
 tainly were they so minded, they need not labour it, 
 but do it, having power in their hands ; and we know 
 of no act as yet passed to that purpose. But suppose 
 it done, wherein is the covenant broke ? The covenant 
 enjoins us to endeavour the extirpation first of popery 
 and prelacy, then of heresy, schism, and profaneness, 
 and whatsoever shall be found contrary to sound doc- 
 trine and the power of godliness. And this we cease 
 not to do by all effectual and proper means : but these 
 divines might know, that to extirpate all these things 
 can be no work of the civil sword, but of the spiritual, 
 which is the word of God. 
 
 No man well in his wits, endeavouring to root up 
 weeds out of his ground, instead of using the spade 
 will take a mallet or a beetle. Nor doth the covenant 
 any way engage us to extirpate, or to prosecute the 
 men, but the heresies and errours in them, which we 
 tell these divines, and the rest that understand not, be- 
 longs chiefly to their own function, in the diligent 
 preaching and insisting upon sound doctrine, in the 
 confuting, not the railing down, errours, encountering 
 both in public and private conference, and by the 
 power of truth, not of persecution, subduing those au- 
 thors of heretical opinions, and lastly in the spiritual 
 execution of church-discipline within their own con- 
 gregations. In all these ways we shall assist them, 
 favour them, and as far as appertains to us join with 
 them, and moreover not tolerate the free exercise of 
 any religion, which shall be found absolutely contrary 
 to sound doctrine or the power of godliness ; for the 
 conscience, we must have patience till it be within our 
 
268 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE 
 
 vei^e. And thus doing', we shall believe to have kept 
 fexacUy all that is required from us by the covenant. 
 Whilst they by tlieir seditious practices against us, 
 tlian which nothing for the present can add more assist- 
 ance or ajlvantage to those bloody rebels and papists 
 in the south, will be found most pernicious covenant- 
 breakers themselves, and as deep in that guilt, as those 
 of their own nation the last year ; the warning of 
 ■whose ill success, like men hardened for the same judg- 
 ment, they miserably i)ervert to an encouragement in 
 the same offence, if not a far worse : for now tliey have 
 joined interest with the Irish rebels, who have ever 
 fought against the covenant, whereas their countrymen 
 the year before made the covenant their plea. But as 
 it is a peculiar mercy of God to his people, while they 
 remain his, to preserve them from wicked considera- 
 tions ; so it is a mark and punishment of hypocrites, to 
 be driven at length to mix their cause, and the interest 
 of their covenant, wit-h God's enemies. 
 
 And whereas they affirm, that the tolerating of all 
 religions, in the manner that we tolerate them, is an 
 innovation; we must acquaint them, that we are able 
 to make it good, if need be, both by Scripture and the 
 primitive fathers, and the frequent assertion of whole 
 churches and protestant states in their remonstrances 
 and e.vpostulations against the popish tyranny over 
 souls. And what force of argument do these doctors 
 bring to the contrary ? But we have long observed to 
 what pass the bold ignorance and sloth of our clergy 
 tends no less now than in the bishops' days, to make 
 their bare sayings and censures authentic with the peo- 
 ple, though destitute of any proof or argument. But 
 thanks be to God, they are discerned. 
 
 Their next impeachment is, " that we oppose the 
 presbyterial government, the hedge and bulwark of 
 religion." Which all the land knows to be a most im- 
 pudent falsehood, having established it with all free- 
 dom, wlierever it hath been desired. Nevertheless, as 
 we perceive it aspiring to be a compulsive power upon 
 all without exception in paroci)ial, classical, and pro- 
 vincial hierarchies, or to require the fleshly arm of ma- 
 gistracy in the execution of a spiritual discipline, to 
 punish and amerce by any corporal infliction those 
 whose consciences cannot be edified by what authority 
 they are compelled, we hold it no more to be " the 
 hedge and bulwark of religion," than the popish or 
 prclalical courts, or the Spanish Inquisition. 
 
 But we are told, " we embrace paganism and Juda- 
 ism in the ai-ms of toleration." A most audacious ca- 
 lumny ! And yet while we detest Judaism, we know 
 ourselves commanded by St. Paul, Rom. xi. to respect 
 the Jews, and by all means to endeavour their conver- 
 sion. 
 
 Neither was it ever sworn in the covenant, to main- 
 tain an universal presbytery in England, as they falsely 
 allege, but in Scotland against the common enemy, if 
 our aid were called for : being left free to reform our 
 own country according to the wonl of God, and the 
 example of best reformed churches ; from which rule 
 we are not yet departed. 
 
 But here, utterly forgetting to be ministers of the 
 
 gospel, they presume to open their mouths, not " in the 
 spirit of meekness," as like dissemblers they pretend, 
 but with as much devilish malice, impudence, and 
 falsehood, as any Irish rebel could have uttered, and 
 from a barbarous nook of Ireland brand us with the ex- 
 tirpation of laws and liberties; things which they seem 
 as little to understand, as aught that belong to good 
 letters or humanity. 
 
 "That we seized on the person of the king;" wiio 
 was surrendered into our hands an enemy and captive 
 by our own subordinate and paid army of Scots in 
 England. Next, " our imprisoning many members of 
 the house." As if it were impossible they should de- 
 serve it, conspiring and bandying against the public 
 good ; which to the other part appearing, and with the 
 power they had, not resisting had been a manifest de- 
 sertion of their trust and duty. Noquestion but it is as 
 good and necessary to expel rotten members out of the 
 house, as to banish delinquents out of the land : and 
 the reason holds as well in forty as in five. And if 
 they be yet more, the more dangerous is their number. 
 They had no privilege to sit there, and vote 'home the 
 author, the impenitent author, of all our miseries, to 
 freedom, honour, and royalty, for a few fraudulent, if 
 not destructive, concessions. Which that they went 
 about to do, how much more clear it was to all men, so 
 much the more expedient and important to the com- 
 monwealth was their speedy seizure and exclusion ; 
 and no breach of any just privilege, but a breach of 
 their knotted faction. And here they cry out, " an ac- 
 tion without parallel in any age." So heartily we 
 wish all men were unprejudiced in all our actions, as 
 these illiterate denouncers never paralleled so nuich of 
 any age as would contril)ute to the tithe of a century. 
 " That we abolish parliamentary power, and establish 
 a representative instead thereof" Now we have thej 
 height of them ; these profound instructors, in the mids 
 of their representation, would know the English of i 
 representative, and were perha})s of that classis, who] 
 heretofore were as much staggered at triennial. 
 
 Their grand accusation is our justice done on the 
 king, which that they may prove to be " without rule 
 or example," they venture all the credit they have in 
 divine and human history ; and by the same desperate 
 boldness detect themselves to be egregious liai-s and 
 impostors, seeking to abuse the multitude with a shew 
 of that gravity and learning, which never was their 
 ])orlion. Had their knowledge been equal to the 
 knowledge of any stupid monk or abbot, they would 
 have known at least, though ignorant of all things 
 else, the life and acts of him, who first instituted their 
 order : but these blockish prcsbytei"s of Clandeboy 
 know not that John Knox, who was the first founder of 
 presbytery in Scotland, taught professedly the doctrine 
 of deposing and of killing kings. And thus while they 
 deny that any such rule can be found, the rule is found 
 in their own country, given them by their own first 
 prcsbyterian institutor; and they themselves, like irre- 
 gular friars walking contrary to the rule of their own 
 foundation, deserve for so gross an ignorance and trans- 
 gression to be disciplined upon their own stools. Or 
 
BETWEEN THE EARL OF ORMOND AND THE IRISH. 
 
 269 
 
 had their reading' in history been any, which by this 
 we may be confident is none at all, or their malice not 
 heightened to a blind rage, they never would so rashly 
 have thrown the dice to a palpable discovery of their 
 ignorance and want of shame. But wherefore spend 
 we two such precious things as time and reason upon 
 priests, the most prodigal misspenders of time, and the 
 scarcest owners of reasons? It is sufficient we have 
 published our defences, given reasons, given examples 
 of our justice done ; books also have been written to 
 the same purpose for men to look on that will ; that 
 no nation under heaven but in one age or other hath 
 done the like. The difference only is, which rather 
 seems to us matter of glory, that they for the most part 
 have without form of law done the deed by a kind of 
 martial justice, we by the deliberate and well-weighed 
 sentence of a legal judicature. 
 
 But they tell us, " it was against the interest and 
 protestation of the kingdom of Scotland." And did 
 exceeding well to join those two together: here by in- 
 forming us what credit or regard need be given in 
 England to a Scots protestation, ushered in by a Scots 
 interest: certainly no more than we sec is given in 
 Scotland to an English declaration, declaring the in- 
 terest of England. If then our interest move not them, 
 wh}' sliould theirs move us .-' If they say, we are not all 
 England ; we reply, they are not all Scotland : nay, 
 were the last year so inconsfiderable a part of Scotland, 
 as were beholden to this which they now term the sec- 
 tarian army, to defend and rescue them at the charges 
 of England, from a stronger party of their own coun- 
 trymen, in whose esteem they were no better than sec- 
 tarians themselves. But they add, " it was against the 
 former declarations of both kingdoms," to seize, or 
 proceed against the king. We are certain, that no 
 such declarations of both kingdoms, as derive not their 
 full force from the sense and meaning of the covenant, 
 can be ])roduced. 
 
 And if they plead against the covenant, " to pre- 
 serve and defend his person : " we ask them briefly, 
 whether they take the covenant to be absolute or con- 
 ditional ? If absolute, then suppose the king to have 
 committed all prodigious crimes and impieties against 
 God, or nature, or whole nations, he must nevertheless 
 be sacred from all violent touch. Which absurd opinion, 
 how it can live in any man's reason, either natural or 
 rectified, we much marvel : since God declared his 
 anger as impetuous for the saving of King Benhadad, 
 though surrendering himself at mercy, as for the kill- 
 ing of Naboth. If it be conditional, in the preservation 
 and defence of religion, and the people's liberty, then 
 certainly to take away his life, being dangerous, and 
 pernicious to both these, was no more a breach of the 
 covenant, than for the same reason at Edinburgh to 
 behead Gordon the marquis of Huntley. By the same 
 covenant we made vow to assist and defend all those, 
 that should enter with us into this league ; not abso- 
 lutely, but in the maintenance and pursuing thereof. 
 If therefore no man else was ever so mad, as to claim 
 from hence an impunity from all justice, why should 
 any for the king, whose life, by other articles of the 
 
 same covenant, was forfeit ? Nay if common sense had 
 not led us to such a clear interpretation, the Scots com- 
 missioners themselves might boast to have been our 
 first teachers : who, when they drew to the malignance 
 which brought forth that perfidious last year's irruption 
 against all the bands of covenant or Christian neigh- 
 bourhood, making their hollow plea the defence of his 
 majesty's person, they were constrained by their own 
 guiltiness, to leave out that following morsel that 
 would have choked them, " the preservation and de- 
 fence of true religion and our liberties." And question- 
 less in tiie preservation of these we are bound as well, 
 both by the covenant, and before the covenant, to pre- 
 serve and defend the person of any private man, as the 
 person and authority of any inferior magistrate : so 
 that this article, objected with such vehemence against 
 us, contains not an exception of the king's person, and 
 authority, to do by privilege what wickedness he list, 
 and be defended as some fancy, but an express testi- 
 fication of our loyalty; and the plain words without 
 wresting will hear as much, that we had no thoughts 
 against his pei-son, or just power, provided they might 
 consist with the preservation and defence of true reli- 
 gion and our liberties. But to these how hazardous 
 his life was, will be needless to repeat so often. It may 
 suffice, that, while he was in custody, where we ex- 
 pected his repentance, his remorse at last, and com- 
 passion of all the innocent blood shed already, and 
 hereafter likely to be shed, for his mere wilfulness, he 
 made no other use of our continual forbearance, our 
 humblest petitions and obtestations at his feet, but to 
 sit contriving and fomenting new plots against us, 
 and, as his own phrase was, " j)laying his own game" 
 upon the miseries of his people : of which we desire no 
 other view at present than these articles of peace with 
 the rebels, and the rare game likely to ensue from such 
 a cast of his cards. And then let men reflect a little 
 u])on the slanders and reviles of these wretched priests, 
 and judge what modesty, what truth, what conscience, 
 what any thing fit for ministers, or we might say rea- 
 sonable men, can harbour in them. For what they be- 
 gan in shamelessness and malice, they conclude in 
 frenzy : throwing out a sudden rhapsody of proverbs 
 quite from the purpose ; and with as much comeliness 
 as when Saul prophesied. For casting oflT, as he did 
 his garments, all modesty and meekness, wherewith 
 the language of ministers ought to be clothed, espe- 
 cially to their supreme magistrate, they talk at random 
 of " servants raging, servants riding, and wonder how 
 the earth can bear them." Either these men imagine 
 themselves to be marvellously high set and exalted in 
 the chair of Belfast, to vouchsafe the parliament of 
 England no better style than servants, or else their 
 high notion, which we rather believe, falls as low as 
 court-parasitism ; supposing all men to be servants 
 but the king. And then all their pains taken to 
 seem so wise in proverbing serve but to conclude them 
 downright slaves : and the edge of their own proverb 
 falls reverse upon themselves. For as " delight is not 
 seemly for fools," much less high Mords to come from 
 base minds. What they are for ministers, or how they 
 
270 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON THE ARTICLES OF PEACE, &c. 
 
 crept into tlie fold, whether at the window, or throug-h 
 the wall, or who set them there so haughty in the pon- 
 tifical see of Belfast, we know not. But this we rather 
 have cause to wonder, if the earth can bear this insuf- 
 ferable iusolencj of upstarts; who, from a gfround which 
 is not their own, dare send such defiance to the sove- 
 reign magistracy of England, by whose authority and 
 in whose right they inhabit there. By their actions 
 we might rather judge them to be a generation of 
 highland thieves and redshanks, who being neigh- 
 bourly admitted, not as the Saxons by merit of their 
 warfare against our enemies, but by the courtesy of 
 England, to hold possessions in our province, a country 
 better than their own, have, with worse faith than those 
 
 heathen, proved ingrateful and treacherous guests to 
 their best friends and entertainers. And let them take 
 heed, lest w hile their silence as to these matters might 
 have kept them blameless and secure under those pro- 
 ceedings which they so feared to partake in, that these 
 their treasonous attempts and practices have not in- 
 volved them in a far worse guilt of rebellion ; and 
 (notwithstanding that fair dehortatory from joining 
 with malignants) in the appearance of a co-interest 
 and partaking with the Irish rebels : against whom, 
 though by themselves pronounced to be the enemies 
 of God, they go not out to battle, as they ought, but 
 rather by these their doings assist and become asso- 
 ciates ! 
 
'EIKONOKAAETHE. 
 
 IS ANSWIR TO A BOOK KSTITLKD, 
 
 •E I K fi N B A 2 I A 1 K H, 
 THE PORTRAITURE OF HIS MAJESTY IN HIS SOLITUDES AND SUFFERINGS, 
 
 BY JOHN MILTOxX. 
 
 PUBLISHED FROM THE AUTHORS SECOND EDITION, PRINTED IN 1650, 
 
 WITH MANY KVLAItOlylXTt, 
 
 BY RICHARD BARON. 
 
 WITH A PKSrACI 
 
 SHEWING THE TRANSCENDENT EXCELLENCY OF MILTON'S PROSE WORKS. 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDIO, 
 
 AN ORIGINAL LETTER TO MILTON, NEVER BEFORE PUBLISHED. 
 
 Morpheus, on thy dewy wing 
 
 Such fair auspicious visions brine. 
 
 As sooth'd great Milton's ii^ur'd age, 
 
 When in prophetic dreams be saw 
 
 The tribes unborn with pious awe 
 
 Imbibe each virtue from his heavenly [>age. 
 
 Ur. AxmaiDS. 
 
 THE EDITOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 When the last impression of Milton's prose works was committed to ray care, I'executed that trust with the 
 greatest fidelity. Not satisfied with printing from any copy at hand, as editors are g'enerally wont, my affec- 
 tion and zeal for the author induced me to compare every sentence, line by line, with the original edition of 
 each treatise that I was able to obtain. Hence, errours innumerable of the former impression were corrected ; 
 besides what improvements were added from the author's second edition of The Tenure of Kings and Magis- 
 trates, which Mr. Toland had either not seen, or had neglected to commit to the press.* 
 
 After I had endeavoured to do this justice to my favourite author, the last summer I discovered a second edi- 
 tion of his Eikonoklastes, with many large and curious additions, printed in the year 1650, which edition had 
 escaped the notice both of Mr. Toland and myself. 
 
 In communicating this discovery to a few friends, I found that this edition was not unknown io some others, 
 though from low and base motives secreted from the public. But I, who from my soul love liberty, and for that 
 reason openly and boldly assert its principles at all times, resolved that the public should no longer be withheld 
 from the possession of such a treasure. 
 
 I therefore now give a new impression of this work, with the additions and improvements made by the author; 
 and I deem it a singular felicity, to be the instrument of restoring to my country so many excellent lines long 
 lost, — and in danger of being for ever lost, — of a writer who is a lasting honour to our language and na- 
 tion ; — and of a work, wherein the principles of tyranny are confuted and overthrown, and all the arts and 
 cunning of a great tyrant and his adherents detected and laid open. 
 
 The love of liberty is a public affection, of which those men must be altogether void, that can suppress or 
 smother any thing written in its defence, and tending to serve its glorious cause. What signify professions, 
 when the actions are opposite and contradictory ? Could any high-churchman, any partizan of Charles I, have 
 acted a worse, or a different part, than some pretended friends of liberty have done in this instance ? Many high- 
 
 * Mr. Toland first collected and published the author's prose works in 3 vols, folio. 1697. or 169fi: for which all lovers of liberty owe pratefiil praise 
 to his name ; but through hurry, cr perhaps not having seen the diffiTc-nt c^'pies, he printed from the first edition of some tracts, which the author had 
 afterwards published with considerable additions. 
 
 In 1738 ftlilton's prose uurks were again published in 2 vols, folio ; of which impression all I shall say is, that, no person beiiifr employed t« 
 inspect the press, the printer took the liberty to alter what he did not understand, and thereby defaced the author, and marred the beauty ot inaiiy 
 passages. 
 
272 THE EDITOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 church priests and doctors have laid out considerable sums to destroy the prose works of Milton, and have pur- 
 chased copies of his particular writings for the infernal pleasure of consuming' them.* This practice, however 
 detestable, was yet consistent with principle. But no apology can be made for men that espouse a cause, and 
 at the same time conceal aught belonging to its support. Such men may tell us that they love liberty, but I 
 tell them that they love their bellies, their ease, their pleasures, their profits, in the first place. A man that will 
 not hazard all for liberty, is unworthy to be named among its votaries, unworthy to participate its blessings. 
 
 Many circumstances at present loudly call upon us to exert ourselves. Venality and corruption have well- 
 nigh extinguished all principles of liberty. The bad books also, that this age hath produced, have ruined our 
 youth. The novels and romances, which are eagerly purchased and read, emasculate the mind, and banish 
 every thing grave and manly. One remedy for these evils is, to revive the reading of our old writers, of which 
 we have good store, and the study whereof would fortify our youth against the blandishments of pleasure and 
 the arts of corruption. 
 
 Milton in particular ought to be read and studied by all our young gentlemen as an oracle. He was a great 
 and noble genius, perhaps the greatest that ever appeared among men ; and his learning was equal to his ge- 
 nius. He had the highest sense of liberty, glorious thoughts, with a strong and nervous style. His works are 
 full of wisdom, a treasure of knowledge. In them the divine, the statesman, the historian, the philologist, may 
 be all instructed and entertained. It is to be lamented, that his divine writings are so little known. Very few 
 are acquainted with them, many have never heard of them. The same is true with respect to another great 
 writer contemporary with Milton, and an advocate for the same glorious cause ; I mean Algernon Sydnej-, 
 whose Discourses on Government are the most precious legacy to these nations. 
 
 All antiquity cannot shew two writers equal to these. They were both great masters of reason, both great 
 masters of expression. They had the strongest thoughts, and the boldest images, and are the best models 
 that can be followed. The style of Sydney is always clear and flowing, strong and masculine. The great 
 Milton has a style of his own, one fit to express the astonishing sublimity of his thoughts, the mighty vigour of 
 his spirit, and that copia of invention, that redundancy of imagination, which no writer before or since hath 
 equalled. In some places, it is confessed, that his periods are too long, which renders him intricate, if not alto- 
 gether unintelligible to vulgar readers ; but these places are not many. In the book before us his style is for 
 the most part free and easy, and it abounds both in eloquence, and wit and argument. I am of opinion, that 
 the style of this work is the best and most perfect of all his prose writings. Other men have commended the 
 style of his History as matchless and incomparable, whose malice could not see or would not acknowledge the 
 excellency of his other works. It is no secret whence their aversion to Milton proceeds ; and whence their 
 caution of naming him as any other writer than a poet. Milton combated superstition and tyranny of every 
 form, and in every degree. Against them he employed his mighty strength, and, like a battering ram, beat 
 down all before him. But notwithstanding these mean arts, either to hide or to disparage him, a little time 
 will make him better known ; and the more he is known, the more he will be admired. His works are not like 
 the fugitive short-lived things of this age, few of which survive their authors : they are substantial, durable, 
 eternal writings ; which will never die, never perish, whilst reason, truth, and liberty have a being in these nations. 
 
 Thus much I thought proper to say on occasion of this publication, wherein I have no resentment to gratify, 
 no private interest to serve : all my aim is to strengthen and support that good old cause, which in my youth I 
 embraced, and the principles whereof I will assert and maintain whilst I live. 
 
 The following letter to Milton, being very curious, and no where published perfect and entire, may be fitly 
 preserved in this place. 
 
 A Letter from Mr. Wall to John Milton, Esquire. 
 
 Sir, 
 I RECEIVED yours the day after you wrote, and do humbly thank you, that you are pleased to honour me with 
 your letters. I confess I have (even in my privacy in the country) oft had thoughts of you, and that with much 
 respect, for your friendliness to truth in your early years, and in bad times. But I was uncertain whether your 
 relation to the court, f (though I think a commonwealth was more friendly to you than a court) had not clouded 
 your former light, but your last book resolved that doubt. You complain of the non-proficiency of the nation, 
 and of its retrogade motion of late, in liberty and spiritual truths. It is much to be bewailed ; but yet let us 
 pity human frailty. When those who made deep protestations of their zeal for our liberty both spiritual and 
 civil, and made the fairest oflfers to be assertors thereof, and whom we thereupon trusted ; when those, being 
 instated in power, shall betray the good thing' committed to them, and lead us back to Egypt, and by that 
 force which we gave them to win us liberty hold us fast in chains ; what can poor people do .'' You know who 
 they were, that watched our Saviour's sepulchre to keep him from rising.^ 
 
 * This liath b«i>n practised witli surh zrul by many of (liat cursed tribe, that it is a wonder there are any copies left. John Swale, a bookseller of 
 Leeds in Yorkshire, nn hmirst man. thnuiih of hiKh-chiircli, told me, tiMt lie could have more money for burninu Miltmi's Oetrnce ot Liberty and ll'-e 
 People of England, lliMn I uouhl five for the purchase ot it. Some priests in that nei'jhb«urho<Hl used to mei-t oiue a year, .mil alter they were well 
 Wanned with stroiig t>eer, they sacrificed to the flames the author's Detensio pro Populu Anglicaiio. as also this trealibe against the F.IKQN- I l>a^e it 
 M my power to produce more iosUacc* of tbe like sacerdotal spirit, witli which in some future publication I may ruteitain the world. 
 
 t Milton was Latin Secretary. t Soldier* ; this is a severe insinuation agaiiist a itaoding army. 
 
THE EDITOR'S PREFACE. 273 
 
 Besides, whilst people are not free, but straitened in accommodations for life, their spirits will be dejected and 
 servile : and conducing to that end, there should be an improving' of our native commodities, as our manufac- 
 tures, our fishery, our fens, forests, and commons, and our trade at sea, &c. which would give the body of the 
 nation a comfortable subsistence ; and the breaking that cursed yoke of tithes would much help thereto. 
 
 Also another thing I cannot but mention, which is, that the Norman conquest and tyranny is continued upon 
 the nation without any thought of removing it; 1 mean the tenure of lands by copy hold, and holding for life 
 under a lord, or rather tyrant of a manor ; whereby people care not to improve their land by cost upon it, not 
 knowing how soon themselves or theirs may be outed it; nor what the house is in which they live, for the same 
 reasoQ : and they are far more enslaved to the lord of the manor, than the rest of the nation is to a king or 
 supreme magistrate. 
 
 We have waited for liberty, but it must be God's work and not man's, who thinks it sweet to maintain his 
 pride and worldly interest to the gratifying of the flesh, whatever becomes of the precious liberty of mankind. 
 
 But let us not despond, but do our duty ; and God will carry on that blessed work in despite of all opj)osites, 
 and to their ruiti if they persist therein. 
 
 Sir, my humble request is, that you would proceed, and give us that other member of the distribution men- 
 tioned in your book; viz. that Hire doth greatly impede truth and liberty: it is like if you do, you shall find 
 opposers: but remember that saying, Beatius est pati quam frui : or, in the apostle's words, James v. 11, We 
 count them happy that endure. 
 
 I have sometimes thought (concurring with your assertion of that storied voice that should speak from 
 
 heaven) when ecclesiastics were endowed with worldly preferments, hodie venenum infunditur in ecclesiam : 
 
 for to use the speech of Genesis iv. ult. according to the sense which it hath in the Hebrew, then began men to 
 
 corrupt the worship of God. I shall tell you a supposal of mine, which is this : Mr. Dury has bestowed about 
 
 thirty years time in travel, conference, and writings, to reconcile Calvinists and Lutherans, and that with little 
 
 or no success. But the shortest way were, — take away ecclesiastical dignities, honours, and preferments, on 
 
 both sides, and all would soon be hushed ; the ecclesiastics would be quiet, and then the people would come 
 
 forth into truth and liberty. But I will not engage in this quarrel; yet I shall lay this engagement upon 
 
 myself to remain 
 
 Your faithful friend and servant, 
 
 CatM/iam, itfffy 26, 1659. John Wall. 
 
 From this letter the reader may see in what way wise and good men of that age employed themselves : in 
 studying to remove every grievance, to break every yoke. And it is matter of astonishment, that this age, 
 which boasts of greatest light and knowledge, should make no effort toward a reformation in things acknow- 
 ledged to he wrong; but both in religion and in civil government be barbarian! 
 
 Below Blackheatht Richard Baron. 
 
 June 20, 1756. 
 
 'eikonok^a:sth^. 
 
 Prov. xxviii. 15. As a roaring lion and a raging bear, so is a wicked ruler over Uie poor people. 
 
 16. The prince that wanteth understanding, is also a great oppressor ; but he that hateth covetottsnen, iluU prolong his days. 
 
 17. A man that doth violence to the blood of any person, shall fly to the pit, let no man stay Win. 
 
 SALLDST. CONJURAT. CATILIN. 
 
 Regium imperium, quod initio, conservandse libertatis, ati]ue augend<£ reipublicae causi fuerat, in saperbiam, doniinationemquc se convertit. 
 
 Regibus boni, quam mali, suspectiores sunt, semperque his alieua virtus formidolosa est 
 
 Impunfi quaelibet facere, id est regem esse. idem, bill, juoprih. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY AUTHORIXy. 
 
 THE PREFACE. 
 
 To descant on the misfortunes of a pei*son fallen from 
 so high a dignity, who hath also paid his final debt 
 both to nature and his faults, is neitherof itself a thing 
 commendable, nor the intention of this discourse. 
 Neither was it fond ambition, nor the vanity to get a 
 name, present or with posterity, by writing against a 
 
 king. I never was so thirsty after fame, nor so desti- 
 tute of other hopes and means, better and more certain 
 to attain it : for kings have gained glorious titles from 
 their favourers by writing against private men, as 
 Henry Vlllth did against Luther; but no man 
 ever gained much honour by writing against a king, 
 
374 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 as not usually meetings witli that force of argument in 
 such courtly antagonists, which to convince might add 
 to his reputation. Kings most commonly, though 
 strong in legions, are but weak at arguments ; as they 
 who ever have accustomed from the cradle to use their 
 will only as their right hand, their reason always as 
 their left. Whence unexpectedly constrained to that 
 kind of combat, they prove but weak and puny adver- 
 saries: nevertheless, for their sakes, who through 
 custom, simplicity, or want of better teaching, have no 
 more seriously considered kings, than in the gaudy 
 name of majesty, and admire them and their doings as 
 if they breathed not the same breath with other mortal 
 men, I shall make no scruple to take up (for it seems to 
 be the challenge both of him and all his party) to take up 
 this gauntlet, though a king's, in the behalf of liberty 
 and the commonwealth. 
 
 And further, since it appears manifestly the cunning 
 drift of a factious and defeated party, to make the same 
 advantage of his book, which they did before of his 
 regal name and authority, aiid intend it not so much 
 the defence of his former actions, as the promoting of 
 their own future designs ; (making thereby the book 
 their own rather than the king's, as the benefit now 
 must be their own more than his ;) now the third time 
 to corrupt and disorder the minds of weaker men, by 
 new suggestions and narrations, either falsely or fal- 
 laciously representing the state of things to the dishon- 
 our of this present government, and the retarding of a 
 general peace, so needful to this afflicted nation, and 
 so nigh obtained ; T suppose it no injury to the dead, 
 but a good deed rather to the living, if by better inform- 
 ation given them, or, which is enough, by only remem- 
 bering them the truth of what they themselves know 
 to be here misaffirmed, they may be kept from entering 
 the third time unadvisedly into war and bloodshed : 
 for as to any moment of solidity in the book itself, 
 (save only that a king is said to be the author, a name, 
 than which there needs no more among the blockish 
 vulgar, to make it wise, and excellent, and admired, 
 nay to set it next the Bible, though otherwise containing 
 little else but the common grounds of tyranny and popery, 
 dressed up the better to deceive, in a new protestant guise, 
 irimly garnished over,) or as to any need of answering, 
 in respect of staid and well-principled men, I take it 
 on me as a work assigned rather, than by me chosen 
 or affected : which was the cause both of beginning it so 
 late, and finishing it so leisurely in the midst of other 
 employments and diversions. And though well it 
 might have seemed in vain to write at all, considering 
 the envy and almost infinite prejudice likely to be stirred 
 up among the common sort, against whatever can be 
 written or gainsaid to the king's book, so advantageous 
 to a book it is only to be a king's ; and though it be 
 an irksome labour, to write with industry and judicious 
 pains, that which, neither weighed nor well read, shall 
 be judged without industry or the pains of well-judg- 
 ing, by faction and the easy literature of custom and 
 opinion; it shall he ventured yet, and the truth not 
 smothered, but sent abroad, in the native confidence of 
 her single self, to earn, how she can, her entertainment 
 
 in the world, and to find out her own readers : few per- 
 haps, but those few, of such value and sub-stantial 
 worth, as truth and wisdom, not respecting numbers 
 and big names, have been ever wont in all ages to bo 
 contented with. And if the late king had thought 
 sufficient those answers and defences made for him in 
 his lifetime, they who on the other side accused his evil 
 gt)vernment, judging that on their behalf enougii also 
 hath been replied, the heat of this controversy was in 
 all likelihood drawing to an end; and the further men- 
 tion of his deeds, not so much unfortunate as faulty, 
 had in tenderness to his late sufferings been willingly 
 forbom ; and perhaps for the present age might have 
 slept with him unrepeated, while his adversaries, calmed 
 and assuaged with the success of their cause, had been 
 the less unfavourable to his memory. But since he 
 himself, making new appeal to truth and the world, 
 hath left behind him this book, as the best advocate 
 and interpreter of his own actions, and that his friends 
 by publishing, dispersing, commending, and almost 
 adoring it, seem to place therein the chief strength and 
 nerves of their cause ; it would argue doubtless in the 
 other party great deficience and distrust of themselves, 
 not to meet the force of his reason in any field whatso- 
 ever, the force and equipage of whose arms they have 
 so often met victoriously : and he who at the bar stood 
 excepting against the form and manner of his judica- 
 ture, and complained that he was not heard ; neither 
 he nor his friends shall have that cause now to find 
 fault, being met and debated with in this open and 
 monumental court of his erecting; and not only heard 
 uttering his whole mind at large, but answered : which 
 to do effectually, if it be necessary, that to his book 
 nothing the more respect be had for being his, they of 
 his own party can have no just reason to exclaim. 
 For it were too unreasonable that he, because dead, 
 should have the liberty in his book to speak all evil of 
 the parliament ; and they because living, should be 
 expected to have less freedom, or any for them, to speaV 
 home the plain truth of a full and pertinent reply. As 
 he, to acquit himself, hath not spared his adversaries to 
 load them with all sorts of blame and accusation, so to 
 him, as in his book alive, there will be used no more 
 courtship than he uses ; but what is properly his own 
 guilt, not imputed any more to his evil counsellors, (a 
 ceremony used longer by the parliament than he him- 
 self desired,) shall be laid here without circumlocutions 
 at his own door. That they who from the first begin- 
 ning, or but now of late, by what unbappiness I know 
 not, are so much affatuated, not with his person only, 
 but with his palpable faults, and doat upon his deform- 
 ities, may have none to blame but their own folly, if 
 they live and die in such a strooken blindness, as next 
 to that of Sodom hath not happened to any sort of men 
 more gross, or more misleading. Yet neither let his 
 enemies expect to find recorded here all that hath been 
 whispered in the court, or alleged openly, of the king's 
 bad actions ; it being the proper scope of this work in 
 hand, not to rip up and relate the misdoings of his 
 whole life, but to answer only and refute the missay- 
 ings of his book. 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 275 
 
 First, then, that some men (whether this were by him 
 intended, or by his friends) have by policy accomplished 
 after death that revenge upon their enemies, which in 
 life they were not able, hath been oft related. And 
 among other examples we find, that the last will of 
 Caesar being read to the people, and what bounteous 
 legacies he had bequeathed them, wrought more in 
 that vulgar audience to the avenging of his death, than 
 all the art he could ever use to win their favour in his 
 lifetime. And how much their intent, who published 
 these overlate apologies and meditations of the dead 
 king, drives to the same end of stirring up the people 
 to bring him that honour, that affection, and by con- 
 sequence that revenge to his dead corpse, which he 
 himself living could never gain to his person, it appears 
 both by the conceited portraiture before his book, 
 drawn out to the full measure of a masking scene, and 
 set there to catch fools and silly gazers ; and by those 
 Latin words after the end, Vota dabunt quoe bella ne- 
 garunt; intimating, that what he could not compass 
 by war, he should achieve by his meditations : for in 
 words which admit of various sense, the liberty is ours, 
 to choose that interpretation, which may best mind us 
 of what our restless enemies endeavour, and what we 
 are timely to prevent. And here may be well observed 
 the loose and negligent curiosity of those, who took 
 upon them to adorn the setting out of this book j for 
 though the picture set in front would martyr him and 
 saint him to befool the people, yet the Latin motto in 
 the end, which they understand not, leaves him, as it 
 were, a politic contriver to bring about that interest, 
 by fair and plausible words, which the force of arms 
 denied him. But quaint emblems and devices, begged 
 from the old pageantrj' of some twelfthnight's enter- 
 tainment at Whitehall, will do but ill to make a saint 
 or martyr : and if the people resolve to take him sainted 
 at the rate of such a canonizing, I shall suspect their 
 calendar more than the Gregorian. In one thing I 
 must commend his openness, who gave the title to this 
 book, EiKufv BaffiXijci), that is to say. The King's Image; 
 and by the shrine he dresses out for him, certainly 
 would have the people come and worship him. For 
 which reason this answer also is entitled, Iconoclastes, 
 the famous surname of many Greek emperors, who in 
 their zeal to the command of God, after long tradition 
 of idolatry in the church, took courage and broke all 
 superstitious images to pieces. But the people, exor- 
 bitant and excessive in all their motions, are prone oft- 
 times not to a religious only, but to a civil kind of 
 idolatry, in idolizing their kings : though never more 
 mistaken in the object of their worship ; heretofore 
 being wont to repute for saints those faithful and cou- 
 rageous barons, who lost their lives in the field, making 
 glorious war against tyrants for the common liberty; 
 as Simon de Momfort, earl of Leicester, against Henry 
 the Hid ; Thomas Plantagenet, earl of Lancaster, 
 against Edward the lid. But now, with a besotted 
 and degenerate baseness of spirit, except some few 
 who yet retain in them the old English fortitude and 
 love of freedom, and have testified itby their matchless 
 
 • The Presbyterians. 
 T 
 
 deeds, the rest, imbastardized from the ancient noble- 
 ness of their ancestors, are ready to fall flat and give 
 adoration to the image and memory of this man, who 
 hath offered at more cunning fetches to undermine our 
 liberties, and put tyranny into an art, than any Britis}i 
 king before him : which low dejection and debasement 
 of mind in the people, I must confess, I cannot will- 
 ingly ascribe to the natural disposition of an English- 
 man, but rather to two other causes ; first, to the pre- 
 lates and their fellow-teachers, though of another name 
 and sect,* whose pulpit-stuff, both first and last, hath 
 been the doctrine and perpetual infusion of servility 
 and wretchedness to all their hearers, and whose lives 
 tiie type of worldliness and hypocrisy, without the least 
 true pattern of virtue, righteousness, or self-denial in 
 their whole practice. I attribute it next to the factious 
 inclination of most men divided from the public by 
 several ends and humours of their own. At first no 
 man less beloved, no man more generally condemned, 
 than was the king ; from the time that it became his 
 custom to break parliaments at home, and either wil- 
 fully or weakly to betray protestants abroad, to the 
 beginning of these combustions. All men inveighed 
 against him ; all men, except court-vassals, opposed 
 him and his tyrannical proceedings ; the cry was uni- 
 versal ; and this full parliament was at first unanimous 
 in their dislike and protestation against his evil govern- 
 ment. But when they, who sought themselves and 
 not the public, began to doubt, that all of them could 
 not by one and the same way attain to their ambitious 
 purposes, then was the king, or his name at least, as a 
 fit property first made use of, his doings made the best 
 of, and by degrees justified ; which begot him such a 
 party, as, after many wiles and strugglings with his 
 inward fears, emboldened him at length to set up his 
 standard against the parliament : whenas before that 
 time, all his adherents, consisting most of dissolute 
 swordsmen and suburb-roysters, hardly amounted to 
 the making up of one ragged regiment strong enough 
 to assault the unarmed house of commons. After 
 which attempt, seconded by a tedious and bloody war 
 on his subjects, wherein he hath so far exceeded those 
 his arbitrary violences in time of peace, they who be- 
 fore hated him for his high misgovernment, nay fought 
 against him with displayed banners in the field, now 
 applaud him and extol him for the wisest and most 
 religious prince that lived. By so strange a method 
 amongst the mad multitude is a sudden reputation won, 
 of wisdom by wilfulness and subtle shifts, of goodness 
 by multiplying evil, of piety by endeavouring to root 
 out true religion. 
 
 But it is evident that the chief of his adherents never 
 loved him, never honoured either him or his cause, but 
 as they took him to set a face upon their own malignant 
 designs, nor bemoan his loss at all, but the loss of their 
 own aspiring hopes : like those captive women, whom 
 the poet notes in his Iliad, to have bewailed the death 
 of Patroclus in outward show, but indeed their own 
 condition. 
 
 UaTpoKXov TTpo^aaiv, afdv 5' avriuv KT)ii iicaTij. 
 
 Horn. Iliad, r. 
 
^6 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 And it needs must be ridiculous to any judgrocnt 
 unenthralled, that they, who in other matters express 
 so little fear cither of God or man, should in this one 
 particular outstrip all precisianism with their scruples 
 and cases, and fill men's ears continually with the noise 
 of their conscientious loyalty and alleg^iancc to the 
 king, rebels in the mean while to God in all their ac- 
 tions besides : much less that they, whose professed 
 loyalty and allegiance led them to direct arms against 
 the king's person, and thought him nothing violated 
 by the sword of hostility drawn by them against him, 
 should now in earnest think him violated by the un- 
 sparing sword of justice, which undoubtedly so much 
 the less in vain she bears among men, by how much 
 greater and in highest place the offender. Else 
 justice, whether moral or political, were not justice, but 
 a false counterfeit of that impartial and godlike vir- 
 tue. The only grief is, that the head was not strook 
 off to the best advantage and commodity of them that 
 held it by the hair : * an ingrateful and perverse gene- 
 ration, who having first cried to God to be delivered 
 from their king, now murmur against God that heard 
 their prayers, and cry as loud for their king against 
 those that delivered them. But as to the author of 
 these soliloquies, whether it were undoubtedly the late 
 king, as is vulgarly believed, or any secret coadjutor, 
 and some stick not to name him ; it can add nothing, 
 nor shall take from the weight, if any be, of reason 
 which he brings. But allegations, not reasons, are 
 the main contents of this book, and need no more than 
 other contrary allegations to lay the question before all 
 men in an even balance; though it were supposed, 
 that the testimony of one man, in his own cause affirm- 
 ing, could be of any moment to bring in doubt the au- 
 thority of a parliament denying.. But if these his 
 fairspoken words shall be here fairly confronted and 
 laid parallel to his own far differing deeds, manifest 
 and visible to the whole nation, then surely we may 
 look on them who notwithstanding shall persist to give 
 to bare words more credit than to open deeds, as men 
 whose judgment was not rationally evinced and per- 
 suaded, but fatally stupified and bewitched into such 
 a blind and obstinate belief: for whose cure it may be 
 doubted, not whether any charm, though never so 
 wisely murmured, but whether any prayer can be avail- 
 able. This however would be remembered and well 
 noted, that while the king, instead of that repentance 
 which was in reason and in conscience to be expected 
 from him, without which we could not lawfully read- 
 mit him, persists here to maintain and justify the most 
 apparent of his evil doings, and washes over with a 
 court-fucus the worst and foulestof his actions, disables 
 and uncreates the parliament itself, with all our laws 
 and native liberties that ask not his leave, dishonours 
 and attaints all protestant churches not prelatical, and 
 what they piously reformed, with the slander of rebel- 
 lion, sacrilege, and hypocrisy ; they, who seemed of 
 late to.stand up hottest for the covenant, can now sit 
 mute and much pleased to hear all these opprobrious 
 things uttered against their faith, their freedom, and 
 
 * The sath»r adds in the lint rdition, which observation, llmugh made 
 
 themselves in their own doings made traitors to boot : 
 the divines, also, their wizards, 6iu be so brazen as to 
 cry Ilosanna to tiiis his book, which cries louder against 
 them for no disciples of Christ, but of Jscariot ; and to 
 seem now convinced with these witliered arguments 
 and reasons here, the same which in some other writ- 
 ings of that party, and in his own former declarations 
 and expresses, they have so often heretofore endea- 
 voured to confute and to explode ; none appearing all 
 this while to vindicate church or state from these ca- 
 lumnies and reproaches but a small handful of men, 
 whom they defame and spit at with all the odious 
 names of schism and sectarism. I never knew that 
 time in England, when men of truest religion were 
 not counted sectaries : but wisdom now, valour, jus 
 tice, constancy, prudence united and imbodied to defend 
 religion and our liberties, both by word and deed, 
 against tyranny, is counted schism and faction. Thus 
 in a graceless age things of highest praise and imitation 
 under a right name, to make them infamous and hateful 
 to the people, are miscalled. Certainly, if ignorance 
 and pcrverseness will needs be national and universal, 
 then they who adhere to wisdom and to truth, are not 
 therefore to be blamed, for being so few as to seem a 
 sect or faction. But in my opinion it goes not ill with 
 that people where these virtues grow so numerous and 
 well joined together, as to resist and make head against 
 the rage ai)d torrent of that boisterous folly and super- 
 stition, that possesses and hurries on the vulgar sort. 
 This therefore we may conclude to be a high honour 
 done us from God, and a special mark of his favour, 
 whom he hath selected as the sole remainder, after all 
 these changes and commotions, to stand upright and 
 stedfast in his cause; dignified with the defence o( 
 truth and public liberty ; while others, who aspired to 
 be the top of zealots, and had almost brought religion 
 to a kind of trading monopoly, have not only by their 
 late silence and neutrality belied their profession, but 
 foundered themselves and their consciences, to comply 
 with enemies in that wicked cause and interest, whicl 
 they have too often cursed in others, to prosper now ii 
 the same themselves. 
 
 I. Upon the king's calling this last parliament. 
 
 That which the king lays down here as bis fir^ 
 foundation, and as it were the head stone of his whol« 
 structure, that " he called this last parliament, uo( 
 more by others' advice, and the necessity of his affairs, 
 than by his own choice and inclination ;" is to all 
 knowing men so apparently not true, that a more un- 
 lucky and inauspicious sentence, and more betokening 
 the downfal of his whole fabric, hardly could have 
 come into his mind. For who knows not, that the incli- 
 nation of a prince is best known either by those next 
 about him, and most in favour with him, or by the 
 current of his own actions ? Those nearest to this king, 
 and most his favourites, were courtiers and prelates ; 
 men whose chief study was to find out which way the 
 
 by aeomniou ^nemJ•, may for the IruOi of it hereafter become a proverb. 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 277 
 
 kiiijf inclined, and to imitate him exactly : how these 
 men stood affected to parliaments cannot be forg^otten. 
 No man but may remember, it was their continual ex- 
 ercise to dispute and preach against them; and in their 
 common discourse nothing' was more frequent, than 
 that " they hoped the king should now have no need of 
 parliaments any more." And this was but the copy, 
 which his parasites had industriously taken from his 
 own words and actions, who never called a ])arliament 
 but to supply bis necessities; and having supplied 
 those, as suddenly and ignominiously dissolved it, with- 
 out redressing any one grievance of the people : some- 
 times choosing rather to miss of his subsidies, or to 
 raise them by illegal courses, than that the people 
 should not still miss of their hopes to be relieved by 
 parliaments. 
 
 The first he broke off at his coming to the crown, for 
 no other cause than to protect the duke of Buckingham 
 against them who had accused him, besides other 
 heinous crimes, of no less than poisoning the deceased 
 king his father; concerning which matter the declara- 
 tion of No more addresses hath sufficiently informed 
 us. And still the latter breaking was with more affront 
 and indignity put upon the house and her worthiest 
 members, than the former. Insomuch that in the fifth 
 year of his reign, in a proclamation he seems offended 
 at the very rumour of a parliament divulged among 
 the people ; as if he had taken it for a kinf* of slander, 
 that men should think him that way exorable, much 
 less inclined : and forbids it as a ])resumption, to pre- 
 scribe him any time for parliaments ; that is to say, 
 either by persuasion or petition, or so much as the re- 
 porting of such a rumour : for other manner of pre- 
 scribing was at that time not suspected. By which 
 fierce edict, the people, forbidden to complain, as well 
 as forced to suffer, began from thenceforth to despair 
 of parliaments. Whereupon such illegal actions, and 
 especially to get vast sums of money, were put in prac- 
 tice by the king and his new officers, as monopolies, 
 compulsive knighthoods, coat, conduct, and ship-money, 
 the seizing not of one Naboth's vineyard, but of whole 
 inheritances, under the pretence of forest or crown- 
 lands; corruption and briber}' compounded for, with 
 impunities granted for the future, as gave evident 
 proof, that the king never meant, nor could it stand 
 with the reason of his affairs, ever to recall parlia- 
 ments : having brought by these irregular courses the 
 people's interest and his own to so direct an opposition, 
 that he might foresee plainly, if nothing but a parlia- 
 ment could save the people, it must necessarily be his 
 undoing. 
 
 Till eight or nine years after, proceeding with a high 
 hand in these enormities, and having the second time 
 levied an injurious war against his native country 
 Scotland ; and finding all those other shifts of raising 
 money, which bore out his first expedition, now to fail 
 him, not " of his own choice and inclination," as any 
 child may see, but urged by strong necessities, and the 
 very pangs of state, which his own violent proceedings 
 had brought him to, he calls a parliament; first in Ire- 
 land, which only was to give him four subsidies and so 
 
 to expire ; then in England, where his first demand was 
 but twelve subsidies to maintain a Scots war, con- 
 demned and abominated by the whole kingdom : pro- 
 mising their grievances should be considered after- 
 wards. Which when the parliament, who judged that 
 war itself one of their main grievances, made no haste 
 to grant, not enduring the delay of his impatient will, 
 or else fearing the conditions of their grant, he breaks 
 off the whole session, and dismisses them and their 
 grievances with scorn and frustration. 
 
 Much less therefore did he call this last parliament 
 by his own choice and inclination ; but having first 
 tried in vain all undue ways to procure money, his 
 army of their own accord being beaten in the north, 
 the lords petitioning, and the general voice of the peo- 
 ple almost hissing him and bis ill acted regality off the 
 stage, compelled at length both by his wants and by 
 his fears, upon mere extremity he summoned this last 
 parliament. And how is it possible, that he should 
 willingly incline to parliaments, who never was per- 
 ceived to call them but for the greedy hope of a whole 
 national bribe, his subsidies ; and never loved, never 
 fulfilled, never promoted the true end of parliaments, 
 the redress of grievances ; but still put them off, and 
 prolonged them, whether gratified or not gratified ; 
 and was indeed the author of all those grievances.'* To 
 say therefore, that he called this parliament of his own 
 choice and inclination, argues how little truth wc can 
 expect from the sequel of this book, which ventures in 
 the very first period to affront more than one nation 
 with an untruth so remarkable; and presumes a more 
 implicit faith in the people of England, than the pope 
 ever commanded from the Romish laity ; or else a na- 
 tural sottishness fit to be abused and ridden : while in 
 the judgment of wise men, by laying the foundation of 
 his defence on the avouchment of that which is so 
 manifestly untrue, he hath given a worse soil to bis 
 own cause, than when his whole forces were at any 
 'time overthrown. They therefore, who think such 
 great service done to the king's affairs in publishing 
 this book, will find themselves in the end mistaken ; if 
 sense and right mind, or but any mediocrity of know- 
 ledge and remembrance, hath not quite forsaken men. 
 
 But to prove his inclination to parliaments, he affirms 
 here, " to have always thought the right way of them 
 most safe for his crown, and best pleasing to bis peo- 
 ple." What he thought, we know not, but that he ever 
 took the contrary way, we saw ; and from his own ac- 
 tions we felt long ago what he thought of parliaments 
 or of pleasing his people : a surer evidence than what 
 we hear now too late in words. 
 
 He alleges, that " the cause of forbearing to convene 
 parliaments was tlie sparks, which some men's distem- 
 pers there studied to kindle." They were indeed not 
 tempered to his temper ; for it neither was the law, 
 nor the rule, by which all other tempers were to he 
 tried; but they were esteemed and chosen for the fit- 
 test men, in their several counties, to allay and quench 
 those distempers, which his own inordinate doings 
 had ipflamed. And if that were his refusing to con- 
 vene, till those men had been qualified to his temper, 
 
27« 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 that is to say, tiis will, we may easily conjecture what 
 hope there was of parliaments, had not fear and his 
 insatiate poverty, iu the midst of bis excessive wealth, 
 constrained him. 
 
 " He hoped by his freetlom and their moderation to 
 prevent misunderstandings." And wherefore not by 
 their freedom and his moderation ? But freedom he 
 thought too high a word for them, and moderation too 
 mean a word for himself: this was not the way to pre- 
 vent misunderstandings. He still " feared passion and 
 prejudice in other men ;" not in himself: "and doubted 
 not by the weight of his " own " reason, to counterpoise 
 any faction ;" it being so easy for him, and so frequent, 
 to call his obstinacy reason, and otlier men's reason, 
 faction. We in the mean while must believe that wis- 
 dom and all reason came to him by title with his crown ; 
 passion, prejudice, and faction came to others by being 
 subjects. 
 
 " He was sorry to hear, with what popular heat 
 elections were carried in many places." Sorry rather, 
 that court-letters and intimations prevailed no more, 
 to divert or to deter the people from their free election 
 of tliose men, whom they thought best affected to reli- 
 gion and their country's liberty, both at that time in 
 danger to be lost. And such men they were, as by 
 the kingdom were sent to advise him, not sent to be 
 cavilled at, because elected, or to be entertained by 
 him with an undervalue and misprision of their temper, 
 judgment, or affection. In vain was a parliament 
 thought fittest by the known laws of our nation, to 
 advise and regulate unruly kings, if they, instead of 
 hearkening to advice, should be permitted to turn it off, 
 and refuse it by vilifying and traducing their advisers, 
 or by accusing of a popular heat those that lawfully 
 elected them. 
 
 " His own and his children's interest obliged him to 
 seek, and to preserve the love and welfare of his sub- 
 jects," Who doubts it ? But the same interest, com- 
 mon to all kings, was never yet available to make them 
 all seek that, which was indeed best for themselves and 
 their posterity. All men by their own and their chil- 
 dren's interest are obliged to honesty and justice: but 
 how little that consideration works in private men, how 
 much less in kings, their deeds declare best. 
 
 " He intended to oblige both friends and enemies, 
 and to exceed their desires, did they but pretend to 
 any modest and sober sense;" mistaking the whole 
 business of a parliament ; which met not to receive 
 from him obligations, but justice; nor he to expect 
 from them their modesty, but their grave advice, uttered 
 with freedom in the public cause. His talk of modesty 
 in their desires of the common welfare argues him not 
 much to have understood what he had to grant, who 
 misconceived so much the nature of what they had to 
 desire. And for " sober sense," the expression was too 
 mean, and recoils with as much dishonour upon him- 
 self, to be a king where sober sense could possibly be 
 so wanting in a parliament. 
 
 " The odium and •ffences, which some men's rigour, 
 or remissness in church and state, had contracted upon 
 liis government, he resolved to have expiated with 
 
 better laws and regulations." And yet the worst of 
 misdemeanors committed by the worst of all his fa' 
 vourites in the height of their dominion, whether acU 
 of rigour or remissness, he hath from time to time con 
 tinued, owned, and taken upon himself by public de 
 clarations, as often as the clergy, or any other of his 
 instruments, felt themselves overburdened with the 
 people's hatred. And who knows not the superstitious 
 rigour of his Sunday's chapel, and the licentious remiss- 
 ness of his Sunday's theatre ; accompanied with that 
 reverend statute for dominical jigs and maypoles, pub- 
 lished in his own name, and derived from the example 
 of his father James? Which testifies all that rigour in 
 superstition, all that remissness in religion, to have 
 issued out originally from his own house, and from hi» 
 own authority. Much rather then may those general 
 miscarriages in state, his proper sphere, be imputed to 
 no other person chiefly than to himself. And which of 
 all those oppressive acts or impositions did he ever dis- 
 claim or disavow, till the fatal awe of this parliament 
 hung ominously over him ? Yet here he smoothly seeks 
 to wipe off all the envy of his evil government upon 
 his substitutes and under-officers; and promises, though 
 much too late, what wonders he purposed to have done- 
 in the reforming of religion : a work wherein all his 
 undertakings heretofore declared him to have had little 
 or no judgment: neither could his breeding, or his 
 course of life, acquaint him with a thing so spiritual. 
 Which may well assure us what kind of reformation 
 we could expect from him ; either some politic form of 
 an imposed religion, or else perpetual vexation and 
 pereecution to all those that complied not with such a 
 form. The like amendment he promises in state ; not' 
 a step further " than his reason and conscience told 
 him was fit to be desired;" wishing "he had kept 
 within those bounds, and not suffered his own judg- 
 ment to have been overborne in some things," of which 
 things one was the earl of Strafford's execution. And 
 what signifies all this, but that still his resolution was 
 the same, to set up an arbitrary government of his own, 
 and that all Britain was to be tied and chained to the 
 conscience, judgment, and reason of one man; as if 
 those gifts had been only his peculiar and prerogative, 
 entailed upon him with his fortune to be a king? 
 Whenas doubtless no man so obstinate, or so much a 
 tyrant, but professes to be guided by that which he 
 calls his reason and his judgment, though never so cor- 
 rupted ; and pretends also his conscience. In the mean 
 while, for any parliament or the whole nation to have 
 either reason, judgment, or conscience, by this rule was 
 altogether in vain, if it thwarted the king's will ; which 
 was easy for him to call by any other plausible name. 
 He himself hath many times acknowledged, to have 
 no right over us but by law ; and by the same law to 
 govern us : but law in a free nation hath been ever 
 public reason, the enacted reason of a parliament; 
 w hich he denying to enact, denies to govern us by that 
 which ought to be our law ; interposing his own pri- 
 vate reason, which to us is no law. And thus we find 
 these fair and spacious promises, made upon the expe- 
 rience of n>any hard sufferings, and his most inortifK-d 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE 
 
 279 
 
 retirements, being thoroughly sifted to contain nothing 
 in them much different from his former practices, so 
 cross, and so reverse to all his parliaments, and both 
 the nations of this island. What fruits they could in 
 likelihood have produced in his restorement, is obvious 
 to any prudent foresight. 
 
 And this is the substance of his first section, till we 
 come to the devout of it, modelled into the form of a 
 private psalter. Which they who so much admire, 
 either for the matter or the manner, may as well admire 
 the archbishop's late breviary, and many other as good 
 manuals and handmaids of Devotion, the lip-work of 
 every prelatical liturgist, clapped together and quilted 
 out of Scripture phrase, with as much ease, and as little 
 need of Christian diligence or judgment, as belongs to 
 the compiling of any ordinary and saleable piece of 
 English divinity, that the shops value. But he who 
 from such a kind of psalmistry, or any other verbal de- 
 votion, without the pledge and earnest of suitable deeds, 
 can be persuaded of a zeal and true righteousness in the 
 person, hath much yet to learn ; and knows not that the 
 deepest policy of a tyrant hath been ever to counterfeit 
 religious. And Aristotle in his Politics hath mentioned 
 that special craft among twelve other tyrannical so- 
 phisms. Neither want we examples : Andronicus Com- 
 menus the Byzantine emperor, though a most cruel 
 tyrant, is reported by Nicetas, to have been a constant 
 reader of Saint Paul's epistles ; and by continual study 
 had so incorporated the phrase and style of that tran- 
 scendant apostle into all his familiar letters, that the 
 imitation seemed to vie with the original. Yet this 
 availed not to deceive the people of tliat empire, who, 
 notwithstanding his saint's vizard, tore him to pieces 
 for his tyranny, PVom stories of this nature both 
 ancient and modem which abound, the poets also, and 
 some English, have been in this point so mindful of 
 decorum, as to put never more pious words in the 
 mouth of any person, than of a tyrant. I shall not in- 
 stance an abstruse author, wherein the king might b   
 less conversant, but one whom we well know was the 
 closet companion of these his solitudes, William Shaks- 
 peare ; who introduces the person of Richard the third, 
 speaking in as high a strain of piety and mortification 
 as is uttered in any passage of this book, and some- 
 times to the same sense and purpose with some words 
 in this place; "I intended," saith he, " not only to 
 oblige my friends, but my enemies." The like sailh 
 Richard, Act II. Scene 1 . 
 
 " I do not know that Englishman alive. 
 With whom my soul is any jot at odds. 
 More than the infant that is born to night ; 
 I thank my God for my humility." 
 
 Other stuff of this sort may be read throughout the 
 ■whole tragedy, wherein the poet used not much licence 
 in departing from the truth of history, which delivers 
 him a deep dissembler, not of his affections only, bu' 
 of religion. 
 
 In praying therefore, and in the outward work of 
 devotion, this king we see hath not at all exceeded the 
 
   The second edition for woman, lias fiction. 
 
 worst of kings before him. But herein the worst of 
 kings, professing Christianism, have by far exceeded 
 him. They, for aught we know, have still prayed 
 their own, or at least borrowed from fit authors. But 
 this king, not content with that which, although in a 
 thing holy, is no holy theft, to attribute to his own 
 making other men's whole prayers, hath as it were 
 unhallowed and unchristened the very duty of prayer 
 itself, by borrowing to a christian use prayers offered 
 to a heathen god. Who would have imagined so little 
 fear in him of the true all-seeing Deity, so little rever- 
 ence of the Holy Ghost, whose office is to dictate and 
 present our christian prayers, so little care of truth in 
 his last words, or honour to himself, or to his friends, 
 or sense of his afflictions, or of that sad hour which was 
 upon him, as immediately before his death to pop into 
 the hand of that grave bishop who attended him, for a 
 special reliquc of his saintly exercises, a prayer stolen 
 word for word from the mouth of a heathen woman * 
 praying to a heathen god ; and that in no serious book, 
 but the vain amatorious poem of Sir Philip Sidney's 
 Arcadia ; a book in that kind full of worth and wit, 
 but among religious thoughts and duties not worthy to 
 be named ; nor to be read at any time without good 
 caution, much less in time of trouble and affliction to 
 be a Christian's prayer-book ? They who are yet in- 
 credulous of what I tell them for a truth, that this phi- 
 lippic prayer is no part of the king's goods, may satisfy 
 their own eyes at leisure, in the 3d book of Sir Philip's 
 Arcadia, p. 248, comparing Pamela's prayer with the 
 first prayer of his majesty, delivered to Dr. Juxton 
 immediately before his death, and entitled a Prayer in 
 time of Captivity, printed in all the best editions of his 
 book. And since there be a crew of lurking railers, 
 who in their libels, and their fits of railing up and 
 down, as I hear from others, take it so currishly, that I 
 should dare to tell abroad the secrets of their ^Egyptian 
 Apis ; to gratify their gall in some measure yet more, 
 which to them will be a kind of alms, (for it is the 
 weekly vomit of their gall which to most of them is the 
 sole means of their feeding,) that they may not starve 
 for me, I shall gorge them once more with this digres- 
 sion somewhat larger than before: nothing troubled 
 or offended at the working upward of their sale-venom 
 thereupon, though it happen to asperse me ; being, it 
 seems, their best liveliiiood, and the only use or good 
 digestion that their sick and perishing minds can make 
 of truth charitably told them. However, to the benefit 
 of others much more worth the gaining, I shall proceed 
 in my assertion ; that if only but to taste wittingly of 
 meat or drink offered to an idol, be in the doctrine of 
 St. Paid judged a pollution, much more must be hi.'* 
 sin, who takes a prayer so dedicated into his mouth, 
 and offers it to God. Yet hardly it can be thought 
 upon (though how sad a thing!) without some kind of 
 laughter at the manner and solemn transaction of so 
 gross a cosenage, that he, who had trampled over us 
 so stately and so tragically, should leave the world at 
 last so ridiculously in his exit, as to bequeath among 
 his deifying friends that stood about him such a pre- 
 
280 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 cious piece of mockery to be published by tbetn, as 
 must needs cover both bis and their heads with shame, 
 if they have any left. Certainly they that will may 
 now sec at length how much they were deceived in 
 him, and were ever like to be hereafter, who cared not, 
 so near the minute of his death, to deceive his best and 
 dearest friends with the trumpery of such a prayer, not 
 more secretly than shamefully purloined ; yet given 
 them as the royal issue of bis own proper zeal. And 
 sure it was the hand of God to let them fall, and be 
 taken in such a foolish trap, as hath exposed them to 
 all derision ; if for nothing' else, to throw contempt and 
 disgrace in the sight of all men, upon this his idolized 
 book, and the whole rosary of his prayers; thereby 
 testifying how little he accepted them from those, who 
 thought no better of the living God than of a buzzard 
 idol, fit to be so served and worshipped in reversion, 
 with the polluted orts and refuse of Arcadias and ro- 
 mances, without being able to discern the affront rather 
 than the worship of such an ethnic prayer. But leav- 
 ing what might justly be offensive to God, it was a 
 trespass also more than usual against human right, 
 which commands, that every author should have the 
 property of his own work reserved to him after death, 
 as well as living. Many princes have been rigorous 
 in laying taxes on their subjects by the head, but of 
 any king heretofore that made a levy upon their wit, 
 and seized it as his own legitimate, I have not whom 
 beside to instance. True it is, I looked rather to have 
 found him gleaning out of books written purposely to 
 help devotion. And if in likelihood he have borrowed 
 much more out of prayerbooks than out of pastorals, 
 then are these painted feathers, that set him off so gay 
 among the people, to be thought few or none of them 
 his own. But if from his divines he have borrowed 
 notliing, nothing out of all the magazine, and the 
 rheum of their mellifluous prayers and meditations, let 
 them who now mourn for him as for Tamuz,thcm who 
 howl in their pulpits, and by their howling declare 
 themselves right wolves, remember and consider in the 
 midst of their hideous faces, when they do only not cut 
 their flesh for him like those rueful priests whom Elijah 
 mocked ; that he who was once their Ahab, now their 
 Josiah, though feigning outwardly to reverence church- 
 men, yet here hath so extremely set at naught both 
 them and their praying faculty, that being at a loss 
 himself what to pray in captivity, he consulted neither 
 with the liturgy, nor with the directory, but neglecting 
 the huge fardell of all their honeycomb devotions, went 
 directly where he doubted not to find better praying 
 to bis mind with Pamela, in the Countess's Arcadia. 
 What greater argument of disgrace and ignominy 
 could have been thrown with cunning upon the whole 
 clergy, than that the king, among all his priestery, and 
 all those numberless volumes of their theological dis- 
 tillations, not meeting with one man or book of that 
 coat that could befriend him with a prayer in captivity, 
 was forced to rob Sir Philip and his captive shepherd- 
 ess of their heathen orisons, to supply in any fashion 
 his miserable indigence, not of bread, but of a single 
 prayer to God ? I say therefore not of bread, for that 
 
 want may befal a good man, and yet not make him 
 totally miserable : but he who wants a prayer to be- 
 seech God in his necessity, it is inexpressible how poor 
 he is ; far poorer within himself than all his enemies 
 can make him. And the unfitness, the indecency of 
 that pitiful supply which he sought, expresses yet fur- 
 ther the deepness of his poverty. 
 
 Thus much be said in general to his prayers, and in 
 special to that Arcadian prayer used in his captivity ; 
 enough to undeceive us what esteem we are to set upon 
 the rest. 
 
 For he certainly, whose mind could serve him to seek 
 a christian prayer out of a pagan legend, and assume 
 it for his own, might gather up the rest God knows 
 from whence ; one perhaps out of the French Astrsea, 
 another out of the Spanish Diana; Amadis and Palmerin 
 could hardly scape him. Such a person wc may be 
 sure had it not in him to make a prayer of his own, or 
 at least would excuse himself the pains and cost of his 
 invention so long as such sweet rhapsodies of heathenism 
 and knight-errantry could yield him prayers. How 
 dishonourable then, and how unworthy of a christian 
 king, were these ignoble shifts to seem holy, and to 
 get a saintship among the ignorant and wretched peo- 
 ple ; to draw them by this deception, worse than all 
 his former injuries, to go a whoring after him ? And 
 how unhappy, how forsook of grace, and unbeloved of 
 God that people, who resolve to know no more of piety 
 or of goodness, than to account him their chief saint 
 and martjT, whose bankrupt devotion came not honestly 
 by his very prayers ; but having sharked them from 
 the mouth of a heathen worshipper, (detestable to teach 
 him prayers !) sold them to those that stood and hon- 
 oured him next to the Messiah, as his own heavenly 
 compositions in adversity, for hopes no less vain and 
 presumptuous (and death at that time so imminent 
 upon him) than by these goodly relics to be held a saint 
 and martyr in opinion with the cheated people ! 
 
 And thus far in the whole chapter we have seen and 
 considered, and it cannot but be clear to all men, how, 
 and for what ends, what concernments and necessities, 
 the late king was no way induced, but every way con- 
 strained, to call this last parliament ; yet here in his 
 first prayer he trembles not to avouch as in the ears of 
 God, " That he did it with an upright intention to his 
 glory, and his people's good :" of which dreadful attes- 
 tation, how sincerely meant, God, to whom it was 
 avowed, can only judge; and he hath judged already, 
 and hath written his impartial sentence in characters 
 legible to all Christendom; and besides hath taught us, 
 that there be some, whom he hath given over to delu- 
 sion, whose very mind and conscience is defiled ; of 
 whom St. Paul to Titus makes mention. 
 
 //. Upon the Earl of Strafford's Death. 
 
 This next chapter is a penitent confession of the 
 king, and the strangest, if it be well weighed, that ever 
 was auricular. For he repents here of giving bis con- 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE 
 
 281 
 
 sent, though most unwillingly, to the most seasonable 
 and solemn piece of justice, that had been done of 
 many years in the land : but his sole conscience thoug^ht 
 the contrary. And thus was the welfare, the safety, 
 and within a little, the unanimous demand of three 
 populous nations, to have attended still on the singular- 
 ity of one man's opinionated conscience ; if men had 
 always been so tame and spiritless, and had not unex- 
 pectedly found the grace to understand, that, if his 
 conscience were so narrow and peculiar to itself, it was 
 not fit his authority should be so ample and universal 
 over others : for certainly a private conscience sorts 
 not with a public calling, but declares that person rather 
 meant by nature for a private fortune. And this also 
 we may take for truth, that he, whose conscience thinks 
 it sin to put to death a capital offender, will as oft 
 think it meritorious to kill a righteous person. But 
 let us hear what the sin was, that lay so sore upon 
 him, and, as one of his prayers given to Dr. Juxton 
 testifies, to the very day of his death ; it was his sign- 
 ing the bill of Strafford's execution ; a man whom all 
 men looked upon as one of the boldest and most impe- 
 tuous instruments that the king had, to advance any 
 violent or illegal design. He had ruled Ireland, and 
 some parts of England, in an arbitrary manner; had 
 endeavoured to subvert fundamental laws, to subvert 
 parliaments, and to incense the king against them ; 
 he had also endeavoured to make hostility between 
 England and Scotland : he bad counselled the king, 
 to call over that Irish army of papists, which he had 
 cunningly raised, to reduce England, as appeared by 
 good testimony then present at the consultation : for 
 which, and many other crimes alleged and proved 
 against him in twenty -eight articles, he was condemned 
 of high treason by the parliament. The commons by 
 far tlie greater number cast him : the lords, after they 
 had been satisfied in a full discourse by the king's so- 
 licitor, and the opinions of many judges delivered in 
 their house, agreed likewise to the sentence of treason. 
 The people universally cried out for justice. None 
 were his friends but courtiers and clergymen, the worst 
 at that time, and most corrupted sort of men ; and court 
 ladies, not the best of women ; who, when they grow 
 to that insolence as to appear active in state-affairs, 
 are the certain sign of a dissolute, degenerate, and 
 pusillanimous commonwealth. Last of all the king, 
 or rather first, for these were but his apes, was not sa- 
 tisfied in conscience to condemn him of high treason ; 
 and declared to both houses, " that no fears or respects 
 whatsoever should make him alter that resolution found- 
 ed upon his conscience :" either then his resolution was 
 indeed not founded upon his conscience, or his con- 
 science received better information, or else both his 
 conscience and this his strong resolution strook sail, 
 notwithstanding these glorious words, to his stronger 
 fear; for within a few days after, when the judges at 
 a privy council and four of his elected bishops had 
 picked the thorn out of his conscience, he was at length 
 persuaded to sign the bill for Strafford's execution. 
 And yet perhaps, that it wrung his conscience to con- 
 demn the earl of high treason is not unlikely ; not be- 
 
 cause he thought him guiltless of highest treason, had 
 half those crimes been committed against his own pri- 
 vate interest or person, as appeared plainly by his 
 charge against the six members ; but because he knew 
 himself a principal in what the earl was but his acces- 
 sory, and thought nothing treason against the common- 
 wealth, but against himself only. 
 
 Had he really scrupled to sentence that for treason, 
 which he thought not treasonable, why did he seem re- 
 solved by the judges and the bishops.'* and if by them 
 resolved, how comes the scruple here again ? It was 
 not then, as he now pretends, " the importunities of 
 some, and the fear of man}'," which made him sign, 
 but the satisfaction given him by those judges and 
 ghostly fathers of his own choosing. Which of him 
 shall we believe ? for he seems not one, but double ; 
 either here we must not believe him professing that his 
 satisfaction was but seemingly received and out of fear, 
 or else we may as well believe that the scruple was no 
 real scruple, as we can believe him here against him- 
 self before, that the satisfaction then received was no 
 real satisfaction. Of such a variable and fleeting con- 
 science what hold can be taken i* But that indeed it 
 was a facil conscience, and could dissemble satisfaction 
 when it pleased, his own ensuing actions declared; 
 being soon after found to have the chief hand in a most 
 detested conspiracy against the parliament and king- 
 dom, as by letters and examinations of Percy, Goring, 
 and other conspirators came to light ; that his intention 
 was to rescue the earl of Strafford, by seizing on the 
 Tower of Loudon ; to bring up the English army out 
 of the North, joined with eight thousand Irish papists 
 raised by Strafford, and a French army to be landed at 
 Portsmoutli, against the parliament and their friends. 
 For which purpose the king, tliough requested by both 
 houses to disband those Irish papists, refused to do it, 
 and kept them still in arms to his own purposes. No 
 marvel then, if, being as deeply criminous as the carl 
 himself, it stung his conscience to adjudge to death 
 those misdeeds, whereof himself had been the chief au- 
 thor: no marvel though instead of blaming and detest- 
 ing his ambition, his evil counsel, his violence, and 
 oppression of the people, he fall to praise his great abi- 
 lities ; and with scholastic flourishes beneath the de- 
 cency of a king, compares him to the sun, which in all 
 figurative use and significance bears allusion to a king, 
 not to a subject : no marvel though be knit contradic- 
 tions as close as words can lie together, " not approving 
 in his judgment," and yet approving in his subsequent 
 reason all that Strafford did, as "driven by the neces- 
 sity of times, and the temper of that people ;" for this 
 excuses all his misdemeauoi's. Lastly, no marvel tliat 
 he goes on building many fair .and pious conclusions 
 upon false and wicked premises, which deceive the 
 common reader, not well discerning the antipathy of 
 such connexions : but this is the marvel, and may be the 
 astonishment, of all that have a conscience, how he 
 durst in the sight of God (and with the same words of 
 contrition wherewith David repents the murdering of 
 Uriah) repent his lawful compliance to that just act of 
 not saving him, whom he ought to have delivered up 
 
2M 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE 
 
 to speedy punishment ; thouorh himself the guiltier of 
 the two. If the deed were so sinful, to have put to 
 death so great a malefactor, it would have taken murh 
 doubtless from the heaviness of his sin, to have told 
 God in his confession, how he laboured, what dark plots 
 he had contrived, into what a league entered, and with 
 what conspirators, against his parliament and kingdoms, 
 to have rescued from the claim of justice so notable and 
 so dear an instrument of tyranny ; which would have 
 been a story, no doubt, as pleasing in the ears of Hea- 
 Tcn, as all these equivocal repentances. For it was 
 fear, and nothing else, which made him feign before 
 both the scruple and the satisfaction of his conscience, 
 that is to say, of his mind : his first fear pretended con- 
 science, that he might be borne with to refuse signing ; 
 bis latter fear, being more urgent, made him find a 
 conscience both to sign, and to be satisfied. As for re- 
 pentance, it came not on him till a long time after ; 
 when he saw " he could have suffered nothing more, 
 though he had denied that bill." For how could he un- 
 derstandingly repent of letting that be treason, which 
 the parliament and whole nation so judged ? This was 
 that which repented him, to have given up to just 
 punishment so stout a champiou of his designs, who 
 might have been so useful to him in his following civil 
 broils. It was a worldly repentance, not a conscien- 
 tious ; or else it was a strange tyranny, which his con- 
 science had got over him, to vex him like an evil spirit 
 for doing one act of justice, and by that means to " for- 
 tify his resolution" from ever doing so any more. That 
 mind must needs be irrecoverably depraved, which, 
 either by chance or importunity, tasting but once of one 
 just deed, spatters at it, and abhors the relish ever after. 
 To the scribes and Pharisees wo was denounced by our 
 Saviour, for straining at a gnat and swallowing a 
 camel, though a giiat were to be strained at : but to a 
 conscience with whom one good deed is so hard to pass 
 down as to endanger almost a choking, and bad deeds 
 without number, though as big and bulky as the ruin 
 of three kingdoms, go down currently without strain- 
 ing, certainly a far greater wo appertains. If his con- 
 science were come to that unnatural dyscrasy, as to 
 digest poison and to keck at wholesome food, it was 
 not for the parliament, or any of his kingdoms, to feed 
 with him any longer. Which to conceal he would 
 persuade us, that the parliament also in their conscience 
 escaped not " some touches of remorse" for putting 
 Strafford to death, in forbidding it by an after-act to be 
 a precedent for the future. But, in a fairer construc- 
 tion, that act implied rather a desire in them to pacify 
 the king's mind, whom they perceived by this means 
 quite alienated : in the mean while not imagining tliat 
 this aflter-act should be retorted on them to tie up jus- 
 tice for the time to come upon like occasion, whether 
 this were made a precedent or not, no more than the 
 want of such a precedent, if it had been wanting, had 
 been available to hinder this. 
 
 But how likely is it, that this after-act argued in the 
 parliament their least repenting for the death of Straf- 
 ford, when it argued so little in the king himself: who, 
 notwithstanding this after-act, which had his own hand 
 
 and concurrence, if not his own instigation, within the 
 same year accused of high treason no less tiian six 
 members at once for the same pretended crimes, which 
 his conscience would not yield to think treasonable in 
 the earl : so that this his subtle argument to fasten a 
 repenting, and by that means a guiltiness of Strafford's 
 death upon the parliament, concludes upon his own 
 head ; and shews us plainly, that either nothing in his 
 judgment was treason against the commonwealth, but 
 only against the king's person ; (a tyrannical principle !) 
 or that his conscience was a perverse and prevaricating 
 conscience, to scruple that the commonwealth should 
 punish for treasonous in one eminent offender that 
 which he himself sought so vehemently to have pun- 
 ished in six guiltless persons. If this were " that 
 touch of conscience, which he bore with greater re- 
 gret" than for any sin committed in his life, whether 
 it were that proditory aid sent to Rochel and religion 
 abroad, or that prodigality of shedding blood at home, 
 to a million of his subjects' lives not valued in com- 
 parison to one Strafford ; we may consider yet at last, 
 what true sense and feeling could be in that con- 
 science, and what fitness to be the master conscience 
 of three kingdoms. 
 
 But the reason why he labours, that we should take 
 notice of so much " tenderness and regret in his soul 
 for having any hand in Strafford's death," is worth the 
 marking ere we conclude : " he hoped it would be some 
 evidence before God and man to all posterity, that he 
 was far from bearing that vast load and guilt of blood" 
 laid upon him by others : which hath the likeness of a 
 subtle dissimulation ; bewailing the blood of one man, 
 his commodious instrument, put to death most justly, 
 though by him unwillingly, that we might think him 
 too tender to shed willingly the blood of those thou- 
 sands whom he counted rebels. And thus by dipping 
 voluntarily his finger's end, yet with shew of great re- 
 morse, in the blood of Strafford, whereof all men clear 
 him, he thinks to scape that sea of innocent blood, 
 wherein his own guilt inevitably hath plunged him 
 all over. And we may well perceive to what easy 
 satisfactions and purgations he had inured his secret 
 conscience, who thought by such weak policies and 
 ostentations as these to gain belief and absolution from 
 understanding men. 
 
 III. Upon his going to the House of Commonx. 
 
 Concerning his unexcusable and hostile march from 
 the court to the house of commons, there needs not 
 much be said ; for he confesses it to be an act, which 
 most men, whom he calls " his enemies," cried shame 
 upon, " indifferent men grew jealous of and fearful, 
 and many of his friends resented, as a motion arising 
 rather from passion than reason :" he himself, in one of 
 his answers to both houses, made profession to be con- 
 vinced, that it was a plain breach of their privilege; 
 yet here, like a rotten building newly trimmed over, 
 he represents it speciously and fraudulently, to impose 
 upon the simple reader ; and seeks by smooth and sup- 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 283 
 
 ])le woi-ds not here only, but through his whole book, 
 to make some beneficial use or other even of his worst 
 miscarriages. 
 
 "These men," saith he, meaning his friends, "knew 
 not the just motives and pregnant grounds with which 
 I thought myself furnished;" to wit, against the five 
 members, whom he came to drag out of the house. 
 His best friends indeed knew not, nor could ever know, 
 his motives to such a riotous act ; and had he himself 
 known any just grounds, he was not ignorant how 
 much it might have tended to his justifying, had he 
 named them in this place, and not concealed them. 
 But suppose them real, suppose them known, what 
 was this to that violation and dishonour put upon the 
 whole house, whose very door forcibly kept open, and 
 all the passages near it, he beset with swords and 
 pistols cocked and menaced in the hands of about three 
 hundred swaggerers and ruffians, who but expected, 
 nay audibly called for, the word of onset to begin a 
 slaughter ? 
 
 " He had discovered, as he thought, unlawful cor- 
 respondences, which they had used, and engagements 
 I to embroil his kingdoms ;" and remembers not his own 
 I unlawful correspondences and conspiracies with the 
 I Irish army of papists, with the French to land at Ports- 
 I mouth, and his tampering both with the English and 
 Scots army to come up against the parliament : the 
 least of which attempts, by whomsoever, was no less 
 than manifest treason against the commonwealth. 
 
 If to demand justice on the five members were his 
 plea, for that which they with more reason might have 
 demanded justice upon him, (I use his own argument,) 
 there needed not so rough assistance. If he had " re- 
 solved to bear that repulse with patience," which his 
 queen by her words to him at his return little thought 
 he would have done, wherefore did he provide against 
 it with such an armed and unusual force .^ but his heart 
 served him not to undergo the hazard that such a 
 desperate scuffle would have brought him to. But 
 wherefore did he go at all, it behoving him to know 
 there were two statutes, that declared he ought first to 
 have acquainted the parliament, who were the accusers, 
 which he refused to do, though still professing to go- 
 vern by law, and still justifying his attempts against 
 law ? And when he saw it was not permitted him to 
 attaint them but by a fair trial, as was offered him 
 from time to time, for want of just matter which yet 
 never came to light, he let the business fall of his own 
 accord ; and all those pregnancies and just motives 
 came to just nothing. 
 
 " He had no temptation of displeasure or revenge 
 against those men :" none but what he thirsted to 
 execute upon them, for the constant opposition which 
 they made against his tyrannous proceedings, and the 
 love and reputation which they therefore had among 
 the people ; but most immediately, for that they were 
 supposed the chief, by whose activity those twelve 
 protesting bishops were but a week before committed 
 to the Tower. 
 
 " He missed but little to have produced writings 
 under some men's own hands." But yet he missed, 
 
 though their chambers, trunks, and studies were sealed 
 up and searched ; yet not found guilty. " Providence 
 would not have it so." Good Providence! that curbs 
 the raging of proud monarchs, as well as of mad mul- 
 titudes. " Yet he wanted not such probabilities " (for 
 his pregnant is come now to probable) " as were suf- 
 ficient to raise jealousies in any king's heart:" and 
 thus his pregnant motives are at last proved nothing 
 but a tympany, or a Queen Mary's cushion; for in any 
 king's heart, as kings go now, what shadowy conceit 
 or groundless toy will not create a jealousy ? 
 
 " That he had designed to insult the house of com- 
 mons," taking God to witness, he utterly denies ; yet 
 in his answer to the city, maintains that " any course 
 of violence had been very justifiable." And we may 
 then guess how far it was from his design : however, 
 it discovered in him an excessive eagerness to be aven- 
 ged on them that crossed him ; and that to have his 
 will, he stood not to do things never so much below 
 him. What a becoming sight it was, to see the king 
 of England one while in the house of commons, and by 
 and by in the Guildhall among the liveries and manu- 
 facturers, prosecuting so greedily the track of five or 
 six fled subjects; himself not the solicitor only, but the 
 pursuivant and the apparitor of his own partial cause ! 
 And although in his answers to the parliament, he hath 
 confessed, fij-st that his manner of prosecution was ille- 
 gal, next " that as he once conceived he had ground 
 enough to accuse them, so at length that he found as good 
 cause to desert any prosecution of them ;" yet here he 
 seems to reverse all, and against promise takes up his 
 old deserted accusation, that he might have something 
 to excuse himself, instead of giving due reparation, 
 which he always refused to give them whom be bad so 
 dishonoured. 
 
 *' That I went," saith he of his going to his house of 
 commons, " attended with some gentlemen ;" gentle- 
 men indeed ! the ragged infantry of stews and bro- 
 thels ; the spawn and shipwreck of taverns and dicing- 
 houses : and then he pleads, " it was no unwonted 
 thing for the majesty and safety of a king to be so at- 
 tended, especially in discontented times." An illustri- 
 ous majesty no doubt, so attended ! a becoming safety 
 for the king of England, placed in the fidelity of such 
 guards and champions ! happy times, when braves and 
 hacksters, the only contented members of his govern- 
 ment, were thought the fittest and the faithfullest to 
 defend his person against the discontents of a parlia- 
 ment and all good men ! Were those the chosen ones 
 to " preserve reverence to him," while he entered " un- 
 assured," and full of suspicions, into his great and 
 faithful counsel? Let God then and the world judge, 
 whether the cause were not in his own guilty and un- 
 warrantable doings: the house of commons, upon seve- 
 ral examinations of this business, declared it sufficiently 
 proved, that the coming of those soldiers, papists and 
 others, with the king, was to take away some of their 
 members, and in case of opposition or denial, to have 
 fallen upon the house in a hostile manner. This the 
 king here denies ; adding a fearful imprecation against 
 his own life, " if he purposed any violence or opprea- 
 
284 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 sion against the innocent, then," saith he, " let the ene- 
 my prosecute my soul, and tread ray life to the ground, 
 and lay my honour in the dust." What need tlien more 
 disputing? He appealed to God's tribunal, and behold! 
 God hatb judged and done to him in the sight of all 
 men according to the verdict of his own mouth : to be 
 a warning to all kings hereafter how they use presump- 
 tuously the words and protestations of David, without 
 the spirit and conscience of David. And the king's 
 admirers may here see their madness, to mistake this 
 book for a monument of his worth and wisdom, whenas 
 indeed it is bis doomsday-book ; not like that of Wil- 
 liam the Norman his predecessor, but the record and 
 memorial of his condemnation ; and discovers whatever 
 hath befallen him, to have been hastened on from di- 
 vine justice by the rash and inconsiderate appeal of his 
 own lips. But what evasions, what pretences, though 
 never so unjust and empty, will he refuse in matters 
 more unknown, and more involved in the mists and 
 intricacies of state, who, rather than not justify himself 
 in a thing so generally odious, can flatter his integrity 
 with such frivolous excuses against the manifest dis- 
 sent of all men, whether enemies, neuters, or friends ? 
 But God and his judgments have not been mocked ; 
 and good men may well perceive what a distance there 
 was ever like to be between him and his parliament, and 
 perhaps between him and all amendment, who for one 
 good deed, though but consented to, asks God forgive- 
 ness ; and from his worst deeds done, takes occasion 
 to insist upon his righteousness ! 
 
 rV. Upon the Insolency of the Tumults. 
 
 We hare here, I must confess, a neat and well- 
 couched invective against tumults, expressing a true 
 fear of them in the author ; but yet so handsomely 
 composed, and withal so feelingly, that, to make a 
 royal comparison, I believe Rehoboam the son of Solo- 
 mon could not have composed it better. Yet Rehoboam 
 had more cause to inveigh against them ; for tliey had 
 stoned his tribute-gatherer, and perhaps had as little 
 spared his own person, had he not with all speed 
 betaken him to his chariot. But this king hath stood 
 the worst of them in his own house without danger, 
 when his coach and horses, in a panic fear, have been 
 to seek : which argues, that the tumults at Whitehall 
 were nothing so dangerous as those at Sechem. 
 
 But the matter here considerable, is not whether the 
 king or his household rhetorician have made a pithy 
 declamation against tumults ; but first, whether these 
 were tumults or not; next, if they were, whether the 
 king himself did not cause them. Let us examine 
 therefore how things at that time stood. The king, as 
 before hath been proved, having both called this par- 
 liament unwillingly, and as unwillingly from time to 
 time condescended to their several acts, carrying on a 
 disjoint and private interest of his own, and not endur- 
 ing to be so crossed and overswayed, especially in the 
 executing of his chief and boldest instrument, the de- 
 
 puty of Ireland first tempts the English army, with no 
 less reward than the spoil of Loudon, to come up and 
 destroy the parliament. That being discovered by 
 some of the officers, who, though bad enough, yet ab- 
 horred so foul a deed ; the king, hardened in his pur- 
 pose, tempts them the second time at Bunowbridgc, 
 promises to pawn his jewels for them, and tliat they 
 should be met and assisted (would they but march on) 
 with a gross body of horse under the earl of Newcastle. 
 He tempts them yet the third time, though after dis- 
 covery, and his own abjuration to have ever tempted 
 them, as is affirmed in the declaration of" No more ad- 
 dresses." Neither this succeeding, he turns him next 
 to the Scotch army, and by his own credential letters 
 given to O Neal and Sir John Henderson, baits his 
 temptation with a richer reward ; not only to have the 
 sacking of London, but four northern counties to be 
 made Scottish, with jewels of great value to be given 
 in pawn the while. But neither would the Scots, for 
 any promise of reward, be brought to such an execrable 
 and odious treachery : but with much honesty gave no- 
 tice of the king's design both to the parliament and 
 city of London. The parliament moreover had intelli- 
 gence, and the people could not but discern, that there 
 was a bitter and malignant party grown up now to 
 such a boldness, as to give out insolent and threaten- 
 ing speeches against the parliament itself. Besides 
 this, the rebellion in Ireland was now broke out; and 
 a conspiracy in Scotland had been made, while the 
 king was there, against some chief members of that 
 parliament; great numbers here of unknown and sus- 
 picious persons resorted to the city. The king, being 
 returned from Scotland, presently dismisses that guard, 
 which the parliament thought necessary in the midst 
 of so many dangers to have about them, and puts an- 
 other guard in their place, contrary to the privilege of 
 that high court, and by such a one commanded, as 
 made them no less doubtful of the guard itself. Which 
 they therefore, upon some ill effects thereof first found, 
 discharge ; deeming it more safe to sit free, though 
 without guard, in open danger, than enclosed with a 
 suspected safety. The people therefore, lest their wor- 
 thiest and most faithful patriots, who had exposed 
 themselves for the public, and whom they saw now 
 left naked, should want aid, or be d.serted in the midst 
 of these dangers, came in multitudes, though unarmed, 
 to witness their fidelity and readiness in case of any 
 violence offered to the parliament. The king, both 
 envying to see the people's love thus devolved on an- 
 other object, and doubting lest it might utterly disable 
 him to do with parliaments as he was wont, sent a 
 message into the city forbidding such resorts. The 
 parliament also, both by what was discovered to them, 
 and what they saw in a malignant party, (some of 
 which had already drawn blood in a fray or two at the 
 court-gate, and even at their own gate in Westminster- 
 hall,) conceiving themselves to be still in danger where 
 they sate, sent a most reasonable and just petition to 
 the king, that a guard might be allowed them out of 
 the city, whereof the king's own chamberlain the earl 
 of Essex, might have command ; it being the right of^ 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 285 
 
 inferior courts to make choice of their own g^uard. 
 This the kiny refused to do, and why he refused the 
 Tcry next day made manifest : for on that day it was 
 that he sallied out from Whitehall, with those trusty 
 myrmidons, to block up or ^ive assault to the house of 
 commons. He had, besides all this, begun to fortify 
 his court, and entertained armed men not a few ; who, 
 standing at his palace gate, reviled and with drawn 
 swords wounded many of the people, as they went by 
 unarmed, and in a peaceable manner, whereof some 
 died. The passing by of a multitude, though neither 
 to St. George's feast, nor to a tilting, certainly of itself 
 was no tumult; the expression of their loyalty and 
 steadfastness to the parliament, whose lives and safe- 
 ties by more than slight rumours they doubted to be in 
 danger, was no tumult. If it grew to be so, the cause 
 was in the king himself and his injurious retinue, who 
 both by hostile preparations in the court, and by actual 
 assailing of the people, gave them just cause to defend 
 themselves. 
 
 Surely those unarmed and petitioning people needed 
 not have been so formidable to any, but to such whose 
 consciences misgave them how ill they had deserved 
 of the people ; and first began to injure them, because 
 they justly feared it from them; and then ascribe that 
 to popular tumult, which was occasioned by their own 
 provoking. 
 
 And that the king was so emphatical and elaborate 
 on this theme against tumults, and expressed with 
 such a vehemence his hatred of them, will redound less 
 perhaps than he was aware to the commendation of his 
 government. For besides that in good governments 
 they happen seldomest, and rise not without cause, if 
 they prove extreme and pernicious, they were never 
 counted so to monarchy, but to monarchical tyranny; 
 and extremes one with another are at most antipathy. 
 If then the king so extremely stood in fear of tumults, 
 the inference will endanger him to be the other ex- 
 treme. Thus far the occasion of this discourse against 
 tumults : now to thediscourse itself, voluble enough, and 
 full of sentence, but that, for the most part, either spe- 
 cious rather than solid, or to his cause nothing pertinent. 
 
 " He never thought any thing more to presage the 
 mischiefs that ensued, than those tumults." Then was 
 his foresight but short, and much mistaken. Those tu- 
 mults were but the mild effects of an evil and injurious 
 reign ; not signs of mischiefs to come, but seeking relief 
 for mischiefs past : those signs were to be read more 
 apparent in his rage and purposed revenge of those free 
 expostulations and clamours of the people against his 
 lawless government. " Not any thing," saith he, 
 " portends more God's displeasure against a nation, 
 llian when he suffers the clamours of the vulgar to pass 
 all bounds of law and reverence to authority." It por- 
 tends rather his displeasure against a tyrannous king, 
 whose proud throne be intends to overturn by that 
 contemptible vulgar ; the sad cries and oppressions of 
 whom his loyalty regarded not. As for that suppli- 
 cating people, they did no hurt either to law or author- 
 ity, but stood for it rather in the parliament against 
 whom they feared would violate it. 
 
 " That they invaded the honour and freedom of the 
 two houses," is his own officious accusation, not 
 seconded by the parliament, who, had they seen cause, 
 were themselves best able to complain. And if they 
 " shook and menaced" any, they were such as had 
 more relation to the court than to the commonwealth ; 
 enemies, not patrons of the people. But if their pe- 
 titioning unarmed were an invasion of both houses, 
 what was his entrance into the house of commons, be- 
 setting it with armed men ? In what condition then 
 was the honour and freedom of that house .'' 
 
 " They forebore not rude deportments, contemptuous 
 words and actions, to himself and his court." 
 
 It was more wonder, having heard what treacherous 
 hostility he bad designed against the city and his whole 
 kingdom, that they forebore to handle him as people 
 in their rage have handled tyrants heretofore for less 
 offences. 
 
 " They were not a short ague, but a fierce quotidian 
 fever." He indeed may best say it, who most felt it ; 
 for the shaking was within him, and it shook him by 
 his own description " worse than a storm, worse than 
 an earthquake ;" Belshazzar's palsy. Had not worse 
 fears, tcrrours, and envies made within him that com- 
 motion, how could a multitude of his subjects, Jirmed 
 with no other weapon than petitions, have shaken all 
 his joints with such a terrible ague ? Yet that the par- 
 liament should entertain the least fear of bad intentions 
 from him or his party, he endures not ; but would per- 
 suade us, that " men scare themselves and others with- 
 out cause:" for he thought fear would be to them a 
 kind of armour, and his design was, if it were possible, 
 to disarm all, especially of a wise fear and suspicion ; 
 for that he knew would find weapons. 
 
 He goes on therefore with vehemence, to repeat the 
 mischiefs done by these tumults. " They first petition- 
 ed, then protested ; dictate next, and lastly overawe the 
 parliament. They removed obstructions, they purged 
 the houses, cast out rotten members." If there were a 
 man of iron, such as Talus, by our poet Spencer, is 
 feigned to be, the page of justice, who with his iron 
 flail could do all this, and expeditiously, without those 
 deceitful forms and circumstances of law, worse than 
 ceremonies in religion ; I say, God send it done, whe- 
 ther by one Talus, or by a thousand. 
 
 " But they subdued the men of conscience in par- 
 liament, backed and abetted all seditious and schis- 
 matical proposals against government ecclesiastical 
 and civil." 
 
 Now we may perceive the root of his hatred, whence 
 it springs. It was not the king's grace or princely 
 goodness, but this iron flail, the people, that drove the 
 bishops out of their baronies, out of their cathedrals, 
 out of the lords' house, out of their copes and surplices, 
 and all those papistical innovations, threw down the 
 high-commission and star-chamber, gave us a triennial 
 parliament, and what we most desired ; in revenge 
 whereof he now so bitterly inveighs against them; 
 these are those seditious and schismatical proposals 
 then by him condescended to as acts of grace, now of 
 another name; which declares hiifi, touching matters 
 
289 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 of church and state, to have been no other man in the 
 deepest of his solitude, than he was before at the hi<j;'h- 
 est of his sovereignty. 
 
 But this was not the worst of these tumults, they 
 played the hasty " midwives, and would not stay the 
 ripening', but went straight to ripping up, and forcibly 
 cut out abortive votes." 
 
 They would not stay perhaps the Spanish demurring, 
 and putting off such wholesome acts and counsels, as 
 the politic cabinet at Wliitehall had no mind to. But 
 all this is complained here as done to the parliament, 
 and yet we heard not the parliament at that time com- 
 plain of any violence from the people, but from him. 
 Wherefore intrudes he to plead the cause of parliament 
 against the people, while the parliament was pleading 
 their own cause against him ; and against him were 
 forced to seek refuge of the people ? It is plain then, 
 that those confluxes and resorts interrupted not the 
 parliament, nor by them were thought tumultuous, but 
 by him only and his court faction. 
 
 " But what good man had not rather want any thing 
 he most desired for the public good, than attain it by 
 such unlawful and irreligious means ?" As much as to 
 say, had not rather sit still, and let his country be ty- 
 rannized, than that the people, finding no other re- 
 medy, should stand up like men, and demand their 
 rights and liberties. This is the artificialest piece of 
 finesse to persuade men into slavery that the wit of 
 court could have invented. But hear how much better 
 the moral of this lesson would befit the teacher. What 
 good man had not rather want a boundless and arbi- 
 trary j)ower, and those fine flowers of the crown, called 
 prerogatives, than for them to use force and perpetual 
 vexation to his faithful subjects, nay to wade for them 
 through blood and civil war.? So that this and the 
 •whole bundle of those following sentences may be ap- 
 plied better to the convincemcnt of his own violent 
 courses, than of those pretended tumults. 
 
 " Who were the chief demagogues to send for those 
 tumults, some alive are not ignorant." Setting aside 
 the affrightment of this goblin word ; for the king, by 
 his leave, cannot coin English, as he could money, to 
 be current, (and it is believed this wording was above 
 his known style and orthography, and accuses the 
 whole composure to be conscious of some other author,) 
 yet if the people were sent for, emboldened and directed 
 by those demagogues, who, saving his Greek, were 
 good patriots, and by his own confession " men of some 
 repute for parts and piety," it helps well to assure us 
 there was both urgent cause, and the less danger of 
 their coming. 
 
 " Complaints were made, yet no redress could be 
 obtained." The parliament also complained of what 
 danger they sate in from another party, and demanded 
 of him a guard, but it was not granted. What marvel 
 then if it cheared them to see some store of their friends, 
 and in the Roman, not the pettifogging sense, their 
 clients so near about them ; a defence due by nature 
 both from whom it was offered, and to whom, as due 
 as to their parents ; though the court stormed and 
 fretted to see such honour given to them, who were 
 
 then best fathers of the commonwealth. And Ixith the 
 parliament and people complained, and demanded jus- 
 tice for those assaults, if not murders, done at his own 
 doors by that crew of rufllers ; but he, instead of doing 
 justice on them, justified and abetted them in what 
 they did, as in his public answer to a petition from the 
 city may be read. Neither is it slightly to be passed 
 over, that in the very place where blood was first drawn 
 in this cause, at the beginning of all that followed, 
 there was his own blood shed by the executioner : ac- 
 cording to that sentence of divine justice, " in the plac 
 where dogs licked the blood of Naboth, shall dogs liik 
 thy blood, even thine." 
 
 From hence he takes occasion to excuse that impro- 
 vident and fatal errour of his absenting from the par- 
 liament. " When he found that no declaration of the 
 bishops could take place against those tumults." Was 
 that worth his considering, tliat foolish and self-un- 
 doing declaration of twelve cipher bishops, who were 
 immediately appeached of treason for that audacious 
 declaring? The bishops peradventure were now and 
 then pulled by the rochets, and deserved another kind 
 of pulling; but what amounted this to "the fear of his 
 own person in the .streets .'*" Did he not the very next 
 day after his irruption into the house of commons, than 
 which nothing had more exasperated the people, go in 
 his coach unguarded into the city ? Did he receive the 
 least afl'ront, much less violence, in any of the streets, 
 but rather humble demeanors and supplications? Hence 
 may be gathered, that however in his own guiltiness 
 he might have justly feared, yet that he knew the 
 people so full of awe and reverence to his person, as to 
 dare commit himself single among the thickest of them, 
 at a time when he had most provoked them. Besides, 
 in Scotland they had handled the bishops in a more 
 robustious manner ; Edinburgh had been full of tu- 
 mults, two armies from thence had entered England 
 against him : yet after all this he was not fearful, but 
 very forward to take so long a journey to Edinburgh ; 
 which argues first, as did also his rendition afterward to 
 the Scots army, that to England he continued still, as he 
 was indeed, a stranger, and full of diffidence, to the 
 Scots only a native king, in his confidence ; though not 
 in his dealing towards them. It shows us next beyond 
 doubting, that all this his fear of tumults was but a 
 mere colour and occasion taken of his resolved absence 
 from the parliament, for some end not difficult to be 
 guessed. And those instances wherein valour is not 
 to be questioned for not " scuffling with the sea, or an 
 undisciplined rabble," are but subservient to carry on 
 the solemn jest of his fearing tumults ; if they discover 
 not witlial the true reason why he departed, only to 
 turn his slashing at the court-gate to slaughtering in 
 the field ; his disorderly bickering to an orderly in^ 
 vading; which was nothing else but a more orderlj 
 disorder. 
 
 " Some suspected and affirmed, that he meditated 
 war when he went first from Whitehall." And thej 
 were not the worst heads that did so, nor did any of hi 
 former acts weaken him to that, as he alleges for biro's 
 self; or if they had, they clear him only for the time of 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE: 
 
 287 
 
 passing them, not for whatever thoughts might come 
 after into his mind. Former actions of improvidence 
 or fear, not with him unusual, cannot absolve him of 
 all after-meditations. 
 
 He goes on protesting his " no intention to have 
 left Whitehall," had these horrid tumults given him but 
 fair quarter; as if he himself, his wife, and children 
 had been in peril. But to this enough hath been an- 
 swered. 
 
 " Had this parliament, as it was in its first election," 
 namely, with the lord and baron bishops, " sate full 
 and free," he doubts not but all had gone well. What 
 warrant this of his to us, whose not doubting was all 
 good men's greatest doubt ? 
 
 " He was resolved to hear reason, and to consent so 
 far as he could comprehend." A hopeful resolution : 
 what if his reason were found by oft experience to 
 comprehend nothing beyond his own advantages ; was 
 this a reason fit to be intrusted with the common good 
 of three nations ? 
 
 " But," saith he, " as swine are to gardens, so are 
 tumults to parliaments." This the parliament, had they 
 found it so, could best have told us. In the mean while, 
 who knows not that one great hog may do as much 
 mischief in a garden as many little swine .•* 
 
 " He was sometimes prone to think, that had he 
 called this last parliament to any other place in Eng- 
 land, the sad consequences might have been prevented." 
 But change of air changes not the mind. Was not his 
 first parliament at Oxford dissolved after two subsidies 
 given him, and no justice received ? Was not his last 
 in the same place, where they sate with as much free- 
 dom, as much quiet from tumults, as they could desire ; 
 a parliament, both in his account and their own, con- 
 sisting of all his friends, that fled after him, and suf- 
 fered for him, and yet by him nicknamed, and cashiered 
 for a " mongrel parliament, that vexed his queen with 
 their base and mutinous motions," as his cabinet-letter 
 tells us.'* Whereby the world may see plainly, that no 
 shifting of place, no sifting of members to his own 
 mind, no number, no paucity, no freedom from tumults, 
 could ever bring his arbitrary wilfulness, and tyran- 
 nical designs, to brook the least shape or similitude, 
 the least counterfeit of a parliament. 
 
 Finally, instead of praying for his people as a good 
 king should do, he prays to be delivered from them, as 
 " from wild beasts, inundations, and raging seas, that 
 had overborne all loyalty, modesty, laws, justice, and 
 religion." God save the people from such intercessors ! 
 
 V. Upon the Bill for triennial Parliaments, and for 
 settling this, Sfc. 
 
 The bill for a triennial parliament was but the third 
 part of one good step toward that which in times past 
 was our annual right. The other bill for settling this 
 parliament was new indeed, but at that time very ne- 
 cessary ; and in the king's own words no more than 
 what the world " was fully confirmed he might in jus- 
 
 • Written by Mr. Sadler, of which the best edition is that of 1619, in 
 
 tice, reason, honour, and conscience grant them;" for 
 to that end he affirms to have done it. 
 
 But whereas he attributes the passing of them to his 
 own act of grace and willingness, (as his manner is to 
 make virtues of his necessities,) and giving to himself 
 all the praise, heaps ingratitude upon the parliament, 
 a little memory will set the clean contrar}' before us ; 
 that for those beneficial acts we owe what we owe to 
 the parliament, but to his granting them neither praise 
 nor thanks. The first bill granted much less than two 
 former statutes yet in force by Edward tlie Third; that 
 a parliament should be called every year, or oftcner, if 
 need were : nay, from a far ancienter law-book called 
 the " Mirror," it is affirmed in a late treatise called 
 " Rights of the kingdom,"* that parliaments by our 
 old laws ought twice a year to be at London. I'rom 
 twice in one year to once in three years, it may be soon 
 cast up how great a loss we fell into of our ancient 
 liberty by that act, which in the ignorant and slavish 
 minds we then were, was thought a great purchase. 
 Wisest men perhaps were contented (for the present, at 
 least) by this act to have recovered parliaments, which 
 were then upon the brink of danger to be for ever lost. 
 And this is that which the king preaches here for a 
 special token of his princely favour, to have abridged 
 and overreached the people five parts in six of what 
 their due was, both by ancient statute and originally. 
 And thus the taking from us all but a triennial rem- 
 nant of that English freedom which our fathers left us 
 double, in a fair annuity enrolled, is set out, and sold 
 to us here for the gracious and over-liberal giving of a 
 new enfranchisement. How little, may we think, did 
 he ever give us, who in the bill of his pretended givings 
 writes down imprimis that benefit or privilege once in 
 three years given us, which by so giving he more than 
 twice every year illegally took from us; such givers 
 as give single to take away sixfold, be to our enemies! 
 for certainly this commonwealth, if the statutes of our 
 ancestors be worth aught, would have found it hard 
 and hazardous to thrive under the damage of such a 
 guileful liberality. The other act was so necessary, 
 that nothing in the power of man more seemed to be 
 the stay and support of all things from that steep ruin' 
 to which he had nigh brought them, than that act ob- 
 tained. He had by his ill stewardship, and, to say no 
 worse, the needless raising of two armies intended for 
 a civil war, beggared both himself and the public; and 
 besides had left us upon the score of his needy enemies 
 for what it cost them in theirown defence against him. 
 To disengage him and the kingdom great sums were 
 to be borrowed, which would never have been lent, nor 
 could ever be repaid, had the king chanced to dissolve 
 this parliament as heretofore. The errours also of his 
 government had brought the kingdom to such ex- 
 tremes, as were incapable of all recovery without the 
 absolute continuance of a ])arliament. It had been 
 else in vain to go about the settling of so great distem- 
 pers, if he, who first caused the malady, might, when 
 he pleased, reject the remedy. Notwithstanding all 
 which, that he granted both these acts unwillingly, 
 quarto ; the edition of 1687 being curtailed. It is an excellent book. 
 
288 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 and as a mere passive instrument, was then visible 
 even to most of those men who now will see no- 
 thing. 
 
 At passing' of the former act he himself concealed 
 not his unwillingness ; and testifying a general dislike 
 of their actions, which they then proceeded in with 
 great approbation of the whole kingdom, he told them 
 with a masterly brow, that " by this act he had obliged 
 them above what they had deserved," and gave a piece 
 of justice to the commonwealth six times short of his 
 predecessors, as if he had been giving some boon or 
 begged office to a sort of his desertless grooms. 
 
 That he passed the latter act against his will, no 
 man in reason can hold it questionable. For if the 
 February before he made so dainty, and were so loth 
 to bestow a parliament once in three years upon the 
 nation, because this had so opposed his courses, was it 
 likely that the May following he should bestow willingly 
 on this parliament an indissoluble sitting, when they 
 bad offended him much more by cutting short and im- 
 peaching of high treason his chief favourites .'' It was 
 his fear then, not his favour, which drew from him 
 that act, lest the parliament, incensed by his conspira- 
 cies against them about the same time discovered, 
 should with the people have resented too heinously 
 those his doings, if to the suspicion of their danger 
 from him he had also added the denial of this only 
 means to secure themselves. 
 
 From these acts therefore in which he glories, and 
 wherewith so oft he upbraids the parliament, he can- 
 not justly expect to reap aught but dishonour and 
 dispraise ; as being both unwillingly granted, and the 
 one granting much less than was before allowed by 
 statute, the other being a testimony of his violent and 
 lawless custom, not only to break privileges, but whole 
 parliaments ; from which enormity they were con- 
 strained to bind him first of all his predecessors ; never 
 any before him having given like causes of distrust 
 and jealousy to his people. As for this parliament, 
 how far he was from being advised by them as he 
 ought, let his own words express. 
 
 He taxes them with " undoing what they found well 
 done:" and yet knows they undid nothing in the 
 church but lord bishops, liturgies, ceremonies, high- 
 commission, judged worthy by all true protestants to 
 be thrown out of the church. They undid nothing in 
 the state but irregular and grinding courts, the main 
 gfrievances to be removed ; and if these were the things 
 which in his opinion they found well done, we may 
 again from hence be informed with what unwillingness 
 he removed them ; and that those gracious acts, whereof 
 so frequently he makes mention, may be englished 
 more properly acts of fear and dissimulation against 
 his mind and conscience. 
 
 The bill preventing dissolution of this parliament be 
 calls " an unparalleled act, out of the extreme confi- 
 dence that his subjects would not make ill use of it." 
 But was it not a greater confidence of the people, to put 
 into one man's hand so great a power, till he abused 
 it, as to summon and dissolve parliaments ? He would 
 be thanked for trusting them, and ought to thank them 
 
 rather for trusting him : the trust issuing first fro 
 them, not from him. 
 
 And that it was a mere trust, and not his preroga- 
 tive, to call and dissolve parliaments at liis pleasure ; 
 and tliat parliaments were not to be dissolved, till all 
 petitions were heard, all grievances redressed, is not 
 only the assertion of this parliament, but of our ancient 
 law-books, which aver it to be an unwritten lau nf 
 common right, so engraven in the hearts of our aiirr>- 
 tors, and by them so constantly enjoyed and claimed, 
 as that it needed not enrolling. And if the Scots in 
 their declaration could charge the king with breach of 
 their laws for breaking up that parliament without 
 their consent, while matters of greatest moment were 
 depending ; it were unreasonable to imagine, that the 
 wisdom of England should be so wanting to itself 
 through all ages, as not to provide by some known 
 law, written or unwritten, against the not calling, or 
 the arbitrary dissolving, of parliaments ; or that they 
 who ordained their summoning twice a year, or as oft 
 as need required, did not tacitly enact also, that as ne- 
 cessity of aflfairs called them, so the same necessity 
 should keep them undissolved, till that were fully satis- 
 fied. Were it not for that, parliaments, and all the 
 fruit and benefit we receive by having them, would 
 turn soon to mere abusion. It appears then, that if 
 this bill of not dissolving were an unparalleled act, it 
 was a known and common right, which our ancestors 
 under other kingfs enjoyed as firmly, as if it had been 
 graven in marble ; and that the infringement of this 
 king first brought it into a written act : who now 
 boasts that as a great favour done us, which his own 
 less fidelity than was in former kings constrained us 
 only of an old undoubted right to make a new written 
 act. But what needed written acts, whenas anciently 
 it was esteemed part of his crown oath, not to dissolve 
 parliaments till all grievances were considered ? where- 
 upon the old "Modi of Parliament" calls it flat pei- 
 jury, if he dissolve them before: as I find cited in a 
 book mentioned at the beginning of this chapter, to 
 which and other law-tractats I refer the more lawyerly 
 mooting of this point, which is neither my element, nor 
 my proper work here ; since the book, which I have to 
 answer, pretends reason, not authorities and quotations: 
 and I hold reason to be the best arbitrator, and the lavv 
 of law itself 
 
 It is true, that " good subjects think it not just, that 
 the king's condition should be worse by bettering 
 theirs." But then the king must not be at such a dis- 
 tance from the people in judging what is better and 
 what worse ; which might have been agreed, had he 
 known (for his own words condemn him) " as well 
 with moderation to use, as with earnestness to desire, 
 his own advantages." 
 
 "A continual parliament he thought would keep the 
 commonwealth in tunc." Judge, commonwealth, what 
 proofs he gave, that this boasted profession was ever in 
 his thought. 
 
 " Some," saith he, " gave out, that I repented me of 
 that settling act." His own actions gave it out beyon«n 
 all supposition; for doubtless it repented him to have* 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 289 
 
 established that by law, which he went about so soon 
 after to abrogate by the sword. 
 
 He calls those acts, which he confesses "tended to 
 tJieir g"ood, not more princely than friendly contribu- 
 tions." As if to do his duty were of courtesy, and the 
 dischar}:fe of his trust a parcel of his liberality ; so nigh 
 lost in his esteem was the birth-right of our liberties, 
 that to give them back again upon demand, stood at 
 the mercy of his contribution. 
 
 " He doubts not but the affections of his people will 
 compensate his sufferings for those acts of confidence :" 
 and imputes his sufferings to a contrary cause. Not 
 his confidence, but his distrust, was that which brought 
 him to those suflTerings, from the time that he forsook 
 his parliament ; and trusted them never the sooner for 
 what he tells " of their piety and religious strictness," 
 but rather hated them as puritans, whom he always 
 sought to extirpate. 
 
 He would have it believed, that " to bind his hands 
 by these acts, argued a very short foresight of things, 
 and extreme fatuity of mind in him," if he had meant 
 a war. If we should conclude so, that were not the 
 only argument : neither did it argue, that he meant 
 peace; knowing that what he granted for the present 
 out of fear, he might as soon repeal by force, watching 
 his time ; and deprive them the fruit of those acts, if 
 his own designs, wherein he put his trust, took effect. 
 
 Yet he complains, " that the tumults threatened to 
 abuse all acts of grace, and turn them into wanton- 
 ness." I would they had turned his wantonness into 
 the grace of not abusing Scripture. Was this becom- 
 ing such a saint as they would make him, to adulte- 
 rate those sacred words from the grace of God to the 
 acts of his own grace .'' Herod was eaten up of worms 
 for suffering others to compare his voice to the voice of 
 God ; but the borrower of this phrase gives much more 
 cause of jealousy, that he likened his own acts of grace 
 to the acts of God's grace. 
 
 From prophaneness he scarce comes off" with perfect 
 sense. " I was not then in a capacity to make war," 
 therefore " I intended not." " I was not in a capa- 
 city," therefore " I could not have given my enemies 
 greater advantage, than by so unprincely inconstancy 
 to have scattered them by arms, whom but lately I had 
 settled by parliament." What place could there be 
 for his inconstancy in that thing whereto he was in no 
 capacity ? Otherwise his inconstancy was not so un- 
 wonted, or so nice, but that it would have easily found 
 pretences to scatter those in revenge, whom he settled 
 in fear. 
 
 " It had been a course full of sin, as well as of hazard 
 and dishonour." True; but if those considerations 
 withheld him not from other actions of like nature, 
 how can we believe they were of strengtli sufficient, to 
 withhold him from this ? And that they withheld him 
 not, the event soon taught us. 
 
 " His letting some men go up to the pinnacle of the 
 temple, was a temptation to them to cast him down 
 headlong." In this simile We have himself compared 
 to Christ, the parliament to the devil, and his giving 
 thcra that act of settling, to his letting them go up to 
 
 the " pinnacle of the temple." A tottering and giddy 
 act rather than a settling. This was goodly use made 
 of Scripture in his solitudes : but it was no pinnacle of 
 the temple, it was a pinnacle of Nebuchadnezzar's 
 palace, from whence he and monarchy fell headlong 
 together. 
 
 He would have others see that " all the kingdoms of 
 the world are not worth gaining by ways of sin which 
 hazard the soul;" and hath himself left nothing unha- 
 zarded to keep three. He concludes with sentences, 
 that, rightly scanned, make not so much for him as 
 against him, and confesses, that " the act of settling 
 was no sin of his will ;" and we easily believe him, for 
 it hath been clearly proved a sin of his unwillingness. 
 
 With his orisons I meddle not, for he appeals to a 
 high audit. This yet may be noted, that at his prayers 
 he had before him the sad presage of his ill success, 
 " as of a dark and dangerous storm, which never ad- 
 mitted his return to the port from whence he set out." 
 Yet his prayer-book no sooner shut, but other hopes 
 flattered him; and their flattering was his destruction. 
 
 VI. Upon his Retirement from Westminster. 
 
 The simile wherewith he begins I was about to have 
 found fault with, as in a garb somewhat more poetical 
 than for a statist : but meeting with many strains of 
 like dress in other of his essays, and hearing him re- 
 ported a more diligent reader of poets than of politi- 
 cians, I begun to think that the whole book might per- 
 haps be intended a piece of poetry. The words are 
 good, the fiction smooth and cleanly ; there wanted 
 only rhyme, and that, they say, is bestowed upon it 
 lately. But to the argument. 
 
 " I staid at Whitehall, till I was driven away by 
 shame more than fear." I retract not what I thought 
 of the fiction, yet liere, I must confess, it lies too open. 
 In his messages and declarations, nay in the whole 
 chapter next but one before this, he aflirms, that " the 
 danger wherein his wife, his children, and his own 
 person" were by those tumults, was the main cause 
 that drove him from Whitehall, and appeals to God as 
 witness : he affirms here that it was " shame more than 
 fear." And Digby, who knew his mind as well as any, 
 tells his new-listed guard, " that the principal cause of 
 his majesty's going thence was to save them from being 
 trod in the dirt." From whence we may discern what 
 false and frivolous excuses are avowed for truth, either 
 in those declarations, or in this penitential book. Our 
 forefathers were of that courage and severity of zeal to 
 justice and their native liberty, against the proud con- 
 tempt and misrule of their kings, that when Richard 
 the Second departed but from a committee of lords, 
 who sate preparing matter for the parliament not yet 
 assembled, to the removal of his evil counsellors, they 
 first vanquished and put to flight Robert de Vere his 
 chief favourite ; and then, coming up to London with 
 a huge army, required the king, then withdrawn for 
 fear, but no further off" than the Tower, to come to 
 
290 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 Westminster, Which he refusing, thej told him flatly, 
 that unless be came they would choose another. So 
 high a crime it was accounted then for kings to absent 
 themselves, not from a parliament, which none ever 
 durst, but from any meeting of his peers and counsel- 
 lors, which did but tend towards a parliament. Much 
 less would they have suffered, that a king, for such 
 trivial and various pretences, one while for fear of tu- 
 mults, another while " for shame to see them," should 
 leave his regal station, and the whole kingdom bleed- 
 ing to death of those wounds, which his own unskilful 
 and perverse government had inflicted. 
 
 Shame then it was that drove him from the parlia- 
 ment, but the shame of what? Was it the shame of his 
 manifold errours and misdeeds, and to see how weakly 
 be had played the king ? No ; " but to see the bar- 
 barous rudeness of those tumults to demand any thing." 
 We have started here another, and I believe the truest 
 cause of his deserting the parliament. The worst and 
 strangest of that "Any thing," which the people then 
 demanded, was but the unlording of bishops, and ex- 
 pelling them the house, and the reducing of church- 
 discipline to a conformity with other protestant churches ; 
 this was the barbarism of those tumults : and that he 
 might avoid the granting of those honest and pious 
 demands, as well demanded by the parliament as the 
 people, for this very cause more than for fear, by his 
 own confession here, he left the city ; and in a most 
 tempestuous season forsook the helm and steerage of 
 the commonwealth. This was that terrible "Any 
 thing," from which his Conscience and his Reason 
 chose to run, rather than not deny. To be importuned 
 the removing of evil counsellors, and other giievances 
 in church and state, was to him " an intolerable oppres- 
 sion." If the people's demanding were so burdensome 
 to him, what was his denial and delay of justice to 
 them? 
 
 But as the demands of his people were to him a bur- 
 den and oppression, so was the advice of his parliament 
 esteemed a bondage ; " Whose agreeing votes," as he 
 aflirms, "were not by any law or reason conclusive to 
 his judgment." For the law, it ordains a parliament to 
 advise him in his great affairs; but if it ordain also, 
 that the single judgment of a king shall out-balancc 
 all the wisdom of his parliament, it ordains that which 
 frustrates the end of its own ordaining. For where the 
 king's judgment may dissent, to the destruction, as it 
 may happen, both of himself and the kingdom, their 
 advice, and no further, is a most insufficient and frus- 
 traneous means to be provided by law in cases of so 
 high concernment. And where the main and principal 
 law of common preservation against tyranny is left so 
 fruitless and infirm, there it must needs follow, that all 
 lesser laws are to their several ends and purposes much 
 more weak and inefiiectual. For that nation would de- 
 serve to be renowned and chronicled for folly and stu- 
 pidity, that should by law provide force against private 
 and petty wrongs, advice only against tyranny and 
 public ruin. It being therefore must unlike a law, to 
 ordain a remedy so slender and unlawlike, to be the 
 
 * Second edition Uas tt of all our safely or preveDtioa. 
 
 Utmost means of all public safety or prevention,* as 
 advice is, which may at any time be rejected by the 
 sole judgment of one man, the king, and so unlike the 
 law of England, which lawyers say is the quiutcsstnce 
 of reason and mature wisdom ; we may conclude, tlial 
 the king's negative voicfc was never any law, but an 
 absurd and reasonless custom, begotten and gro\rn up 
 either from the flattery of basest times, or the usurpa 
 tion of immoderate princes. Thus much to the law < 
 it, by a better evidence than rolls and records, reason. 
 
 But is it possible he should pretend also to reason, 
 that the judgment of one man, not as a wise or good i 
 man, but as a king, and ofttimes a wilful, proud, and i 
 wicked king, should outweigh the prudence and all I 
 the virtue of an elected parliament ? What an abusive 
 thing were it then to summon parliaments, that by the 
 major part of voices greatest matters may be there de- 
 bated and resolved, whenas one single voice after that 
 shall dash all their resolutions ? 
 
 He attempts to give a reason why it should, " Be- 
 cause the whole parliaments represent not him in any 
 kind." But mark how little he advances ; for if the 
 parliament represent the whole kingdom, as is sure 
 enough they do, then doth the king represent only 
 himself; and if a king without his kingdom be in a 
 civil sense nothing, then without or against the repre- 
 sentative of his whole kingdom, he himself represents 
 nothing; and by consequence his judgment and liis 
 negative is as good as nothing: and though we should 
 allow him to be something, yet not equal f or compar- 
 able to the whole kingdom, and so neither to them who 
 represent it : much less that one syllable of his breath 
 put into the scales should be more ponderous than the 
 joint voice and efficacy of a whole parliament, assem- 
 bled by election, and endued with the pleuipotence of 
 a free nation, to make laws, not to be denied laws ; and 
 with no more but no, a sleeveless reason, in the most 
 pressing times of danger and disturbance to be sent 
 home frustrate and remediless. 
 
 Yet here he maintains, " to be no further bound to 
 agree with the votes of both houses, than he sees them 
 to agree with the will of God, with his just rights as a 
 king, and the general good of his people." As to the 
 freedom of his agreeing or not agreeing, limited with 
 due bounds, no man reprehends it; this is the question 
 here, or the miracle rather, why his only not agreeing 
 should lay a negative bar and inhibition upon that 
 which is agreed to by a whole parliament, though 
 never so conducing to the public good or safety ? To 
 know the will of God better than his whole kingdom, 
 whence should he have it? Certainly court-breeding 
 and his perpetual conversation with flatterers was but 
 a bad school. To judge of his own rights could not 
 belong to him, who had no right by law in any court 
 to judge of so much as felony or treason, being held a 
 party in both these cases, much more in this ; and his 
 rights however should give place to the general good, 
 for which end all his rights were given him. Lastly, 
 to suppose a clearer insight and discerning of thfl 
 general good, allotted to his own singular judgmen 
 
 1 Sccood eilitioD has equivalent. 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKOX BASILIKE. 
 
 291 
 
 than to tlie parliament and all the people, and from 
 that self-opinion of discerning, to deny them that good 
 which they, being all freemen, seek earnestly and call 
 for, is an arrogance and iniquity bej'ond imagination 
 rude and unreasonable; they undoubtedly having most 
 authority to judge of the public good, who for that 
 purpose are chosen out and sent by the people to advise 
 him. And if it may be in him to see oft " the major 
 part of them not in the right," had it not been more 
 his modesty, to have doubted their seeing him more 
 often in the wrong ? 
 
 He passes to another reason of his denials, " because 
 of some men's hydropic unsatiableness, and thirst of 
 asking, the more they drank, wiiom no fountain of re- 
 gal bounty was able to overcome." A comparison 
 more properly bestowed on those that came to guzzle 
 in his wine-cellar, than on a freeborn people that came 
 to claim in parliament their rights and liberties, which 
 a king ought therefore to grant, because of right de- 
 manded ; not to deny them for fear his bounty should 
 be exhausted, which in these demands (to continue the 
 same metaphor) was not so much as broached ; it being 
 his dut}-, not his bounty, to grant these things. He 
 who thus refuses to give us law, in that refusal gives 
 us another law, which is his will, another name also, 
 and another condition ; of freemen to become his 
 vassals. 
 
 Putting off the courtier, he now puts on the philoso- 
 pher, and scntentiously disputes to this effect, " That 
 reason ought to be used to men, force and terrour to 
 beasts ; that he deserves to be a slave, who captivates 
 the rational sovereignty of his soul and liberty of his 
 will to compulsion ; that he would not forfeit that free- 
 dom, which cannot be denied him as a king, because 
 it belongs to him as a man and a Christian, though to 
 preserve his kingdom ; but rather die enjoying the 
 empire of his soul, than live in such a vassalage, as not 
 to use his reason and conscience, to like or dislike as a 
 king." Whicii words, of themselves, as Air as they 
 are sense, good and philosophical, 3'et in the mouth of 
 him, who, to engross this common liberty to himself, 
 would tread down all other men into the condition of 
 slaves and beasts, they quite lose their commendation. 
 He confesses a rational sovereignty of soul and free- 
 dom of will in ever}' man, and yet with an implicit 
 repugnancy would have his reason the sovereign of 
 that sovereignty, and would captivate and make use- 
 less that natural freedom of will in all other men but 
 himself. But them that yield him this obedience he 
 so well rewards, as to pronounce them worthy to be 
 slaves. They who have lost all to be his subjects, may 
 stoop and take up the reward. What that freedom is, 
 which " cannot be denied him as a king, because it 
 belongs to him as a man and a christian," I understand 
 not. If it be his negative voice, it concludes all men, 
 who have not such a negative as his against a whole 
 parliament, to be neither men nor Christians: and what 
 was he himself then, all this while that we denied it 
 him as a king ? W'ill he say, that he enjoyed wilhin 
 himself the less freedom for that ? Alight not he, both 
 as a man and as a christian, have reigned within him- 
 
 V 
 
 self in full sovereignty of soul, no man re])ining, but 
 that his outward and imperious will must invade the 
 civil liberties of a nation ? Did we therefore not per- 
 mit him to use his reason or his conscience, not permit- 
 ting him to bereave us the use of oure ? And might 
 not he have enjoyed both as a king, governing us as 
 freemen by what laws we ourselves would be govern- 
 ed .'• It was not the inward use of his reason and of his 
 conscience, that would content him, but to use them 
 both as a law over all his subjects, " in whatever he 
 declared as a king to like or dislike." Which use of 
 reason, most reasonless and unconscionable, is the ut- 
 most that any tyrant ever pretended over his vassals. 
 
 In all wise nations the legislative power, and the 
 judicial execution of that power, have been most com- 
 monly distinct, and in several hands ; but yet the for- 
 mer supreme, the other subordinate. If then the king 
 be only set up to execute the law, which is indeed the 
 highest of his office, he ought no more to make or for- 
 bid the making of any law agreed upon in parliament, 
 than other inferior judges, who arc his deputies. 
 Neither can he more reject a law offered him by the 
 commons, than he can new make a law, which they 
 reject. And yet the more to credit and uphold his 
 cause, he would seem to have philosophy on his side ; 
 straining her wise dictates to unphilosophical purposes. 
 But when kings come so low, as to fawn upon philr.- 
 sophy, which before they neither valued nor under- 
 stood, it is a sign that fails not, they are then put to 
 their last trump. And philosophy as well requites 
 them, by not suffering her golden sayings eitlier to be- 
 come their lips, or to be used as masks and colours of 
 injurious and violent deeds. So that what they ])re- 
 sume to borrow from her sage and virtuous rules, like 
 the riddle of Sphinx not understood, breaks the ueck of 
 their own cause. 
 
 But now again to politics: " lie cannot think the 
 Majesty of the crown of England to be bound by any 
 coronation oath in a blind and brutish formility, to 
 consent to whatever its subjects in parliament shall re- 
 quire." What tyrant could presume to say more, when 
 he meant to kick down all law, government, and bond 
 of oath ? But why he so desires to absolve himself the 
 oath of his coronation would be worth the knowing. It 
 cannot but be yielded, that the oath, which binds him 
 to performance of his trust, ought in reason to contain 
 the sum of what his chief trust and office is. But if it 
 neither do enjoin, nor mention to him, as a part of his 
 duty, the making or the marring of any law, or scrap 
 of law, but requires only his assent to those laws which 
 the people have already chosen, or shall choose; (for so 
 both the Latin of that oath, and the old English ; and 
 all reason admits, that the people should not lose under 
 a new king what freedom they had before ;) then that 
 negative voice so contended for, to deny the passing of 
 any law, which the commons choose, is both against 
 the oath of his coronation, and his kingly office. And 
 if the king may deny to pass what the parliament hath 
 chosen to be a law, then doth the king make himself 
 superior to his w hole kingdom ; which not only the 
 general maxims of policy gainsay, but even our own 
 
inn 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 stauding laws, as hath been cited to him in remon- 
 strances heretofore, that " the king hath two superiors, 
 the law, and his court of parliament." But this he 
 counts to be a blind and brutish formality, whether it 
 be law, or oath, or his duty, and thinks to turn it off 
 with wholesome words and phrases, which he then first 
 leanit of the honest people, when they were so often 
 compelled to use them a^^ainst those more truly blind 
 and brutish formalities thrust upon us by his own com- 
 mand, not in civil matters only, but in spiritual. And if 
 his oath to perform what the people require, when they 
 crown him, be in his esteem a brutish formality, then 
 doubtless those other oaths of allegiance and supremacy, 
 taken absolute on our part, may most justly appear to 
 us in all respects as brutish and as formal ; and so by 
 his. own sentence no more binding to us, than his oath 
 to him. 
 
 As for his instance, in case " he and the house of 
 peers attempted to enjoin the house of commons," it 
 bears no equality ; for he and the peers represent but 
 themselves, the commons are the whole kingdom. 
 
 Thus he concludes " his oath to be fully discharged 
 in governing by laws already made," as being not 
 bound to pass any new, " if his reason bids him deny." 
 And so may infinite mischiefs grow, and he with a 
 pernicious negative may deny us all things good, or 
 just, or safe, whereof our ancestors, in times much dif- 
 fering from ours, had either no foresight, or no occasion 
 to foresee; while our general good and safety shall 
 depend upon the private and overweening reason of 
 one obstinate man, who against all the kingdom, if he 
 list, will interpret both the law and his oath of corona- 
 tion by tlie tenour of his own will. Which he himself 
 confesses to be an arbitrary power, yet doubts not in 
 his argument to imply, as if he thought it more fit the 
 parliament should be subject to his will, than he to 
 their advice; a man neither by nature nor by nurture 
 wise. How is it possible, that he, in whom such 
 principles as these were so deep rooted, could ever, 
 though restored again, have reigned otherwise than 
 tyrannically ? 
 
 He objects, " That force was but a slavish method 
 to dispel his errour." But how often shall it be an- 
 swered him, that no force was used to dispel the errour 
 out of his head, but to drive it from off our necks .-^ for 
 his errour was imperious, and would command all 
 other men to renounce their own reason and under- 
 standing, till they perished under the injunction of his 
 all ruling errour. 
 
 He alleges the uprightness of his intentions to ex- 
 cuse his possible failings, a position false both in law 
 and divinity : yea, contrary to his own better princi- 
 ples, who affirms in the twelfth chapter, that " the 
 goodness of a man's intention will not excuse the scan- 
 dal and contagion of his example." His not knowing, 
 through the corruption of flattery and court-principles, 
 what he ought to have known, will not excuse his not 
 doing what he ought to have done ; no more than the 
 small skill of him, who undertakes to be a pilot, will 
 excuse him to be misled by any wandering star mis- 
 taken for the pole. But let his intentions be never so 
 
 upright, wliat is that to us.** what answer for the reason 
 and the national rights, which God hath given us, if 
 having parliaments, and laws, and the j)ower of mak- 
 ing more to avoid mischief, we suflTer one man's blind 
 intentions to lead us all with our eyes open to manifest 
 destruction .•" 
 
 And if arguments prevail not with such a one, force 
 is well used ; not " to carry on the weakness of our 
 counsels, or to convince his errour," as he surmises, 
 but to acquit and rescue our own reason, our own con- 
 sciences, from the force and prohibition laid by his 
 usurping errour upon our liberties and understandings. 
 
 " Never any thing pleased him more, than when his 
 judgment concurred with theirs." That was to the ap- 
 plause of his own judgment, and would as well have 
 pleased any self-conceited man. 
 
 " Yea, in many things he chose rather to deny him- 
 self than them." That is to say, in trifles. For " of 
 his own interests" and personal rights he conceives 
 himself " master." To part with, if he please; not to 
 contest for, against the kingdom, which is greater than 
 he, whose rights are all subordinate to the kingdom's 
 good. And " in what concerns truth, justice, the right 
 of church, or his crown, no man shall gain his consent 
 against his mind." What can be left then for a par- 
 liament, but to sit like images, while he still thus 
 either with incomparable arrogance assumes to himself 
 the best ability of judging for other men what is truth, 
 justice, goodness, what his own and the church's 
 right, or with unsufferable tyranny restrains all men 
 from the enjoyment of any good, which his judgment, 
 though erroneous, thinks not fit to grant them ; not- 
 withstanding that the law and his coronal oath re- 
 quires his undeniable assent to what laws the parlia- 
 ment agree upon ? 
 
 " He had rather wear a crown of thorns with our Sa- 
 viour." Many would be all one with our Saviour, 
 whom our Saviour will not know. They who govern 
 ill those kingdoms which they had a right to, have to 
 our Saviour's crown of thorns no right at all. Thorns 
 they may find enow of their own gathering, and their 
 own twisting ; for thorns and snares, saith Solomon, 
 are in the way of the froward : but to wear them, as 
 our Saviour wore them, is not given to them, that suf- 
 fer by their own demerits. Nor is a crown of gold his 
 due, who cannot first wear a crown of lead ; not only 
 for the weight of that great office, but for the compli- 
 ance which it ought to have with them who are to 
 counsel him, which here lie terms in scorn " An imbascd 
 flexibleness to the various and oft contrary dictates of 
 any factions," meaning his parliament ; for the ques- 
 tion hath been all this while between them two. And 
 to his parliament, thougli a numerous and choice as- 
 sembly of whom the land thought wisest, he imputes, 
 rather than to himself, " want of reason, neglect of tlic 
 public, interest of parties, and particularity of private 
 will and passion ;" but with what modesty or likeliluxxl 
 of truth, it will be wearisome to repeat so often. 
 
 He concludes with a sentence fair in seeming, but 
 fallacious. For if the conscience be ill edified, the re- 
 solution may more befit a foolish than a christian king, 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 293 
 
 to prefer a self-willed conscience before a kingdom's 
 good ; especially' in the denial of that, which law and 
 his regal office by oath bids him grant to his parliament 
 and whole kingdom rightfully demanding. For we 
 may observe him throughout the discourse to assert his 
 negative power against the whole kingdom ; now under 
 the specious plea of his conscience and his reason, but 
 heretofore in a louder note ; " Without us, or against 
 our consent, the votes of either or of both houses toge- 
 ther, must not, cannot, shall not." Declar. May 4, 
 1642. 
 
 With these and the like deceivable doctrines be 
 
 kvens also his prayer. 
 
 VII. Upon the Queen s Departure. 
 
 'o this argument wc shall soon have said ; for what 
 concerns it us to hear a husband divulge his household 
 privacies, extolling to others the virtues of his wife ."* 
 an infirmity not seldom incident to those who have least 
 cause. But how good she was a wife, was to himself, 
 and be it left to his own fancy ; how bad a subject, is 
 not much disputed. And being such, it need be made 
 no wonder, though she left a protestant kingdom with 
 as little honour as her mother left a popish. 
 
 That this " is the first example of any protestant sub- 
 jects, that have taken up arms against their king a 
 protestant," can be to protestants no dishonour ; when 
 it shall be heard, that he first levied war on them, and 
 to the interest of papists more than of protestants. He 
 I might have given yet the precedence of making war 
 upon him to the subjects of his own nation, who had 
 twice opposed him in the open field long ere the Eng- 
 i lish found it necessary to do the like. And how 
 groundless, how dissembled is that fear, lest she, who 
 ' for so many years had been averse from the religion of 
 I her husband, and every year more and more, before 
 [ these disturbances broke out, should for them be now 
 the more alienated from that, to which we never heard 
 she was inclined ? But if the fear of her delinquency, 
 and that justice which the protestants demanded on 
 her, was any cause of her alienating the more, to have 
 gained her by indirect means had been no advantage 
 to religion, much less then was the detriment to lose 
 her further off. It had been happy if his own actions 
 had not given cause of more scandal to the protestants, 
 than what they did against her could justly scandalize 
 any papist. 
 
 Them who accused her, well enough known to be 
 the parliament, he censures for " men yet to seek their 
 religion, whether doctrine, discipline, or good man- 
 ners ;" the rest he soothes with the name of true Eng- 
 lish protestants, a mere schismatical name, yet he so 
 great an enemy of schism. 
 
 He ascribes " rudeness and barbarity, worse than 
 Indian," to the English parliament ; and " all virtue" 
 to his wife, in strains that come almost to sonnetting : 
 how fit to govern men, undervaluing and aspersing 
 the great council of his kingdom, in comparison of one 
 
 woman ! Examples are not far to seek, how great mis- 
 chief and dishonour hath befallen nations under the 
 government of effeminate and uxorious magistrates ; 
 who, being themselves governed and oversvvayed at 
 home under a feminine usurpation, cannot but be far 
 short of spirit and authority without doors, to govern a 
 whole nation. 
 
 " Her tarrying here he could not think safe among 
 them, who were shaking hands with allegiance, to lay 
 faster hold on religion ;" and taxes them of a duty ra- 
 ther than a crime, it being just to obey God rather than 
 man, and impossible to serve two masters : I would 
 they had quite shaken off what they stood shaking 
 hands with ; the fault was in their courage, not in their 
 cause. 
 
 In his prayer he prays, that the disloyalty of his pro- 
 testant subjects may not be a hinderance to her love of 
 the true religion ; and never prays, that the dissolute- 
 ness of his court, the scandals of his clergy, the unsound- 
 ness of his own judgment, the lukewarmness of his 
 life, his letter of compliance to the pope, his permitting 
 agents at Rome, the pope's nuncio, and her jesuited 
 mother here, may not be found in the sight of God far 
 greater binderances to her conversion. 
 
 But this had been a subtle prayer indeed, and well 
 prayed, though as duly as a Paternoster, if it could 
 have charmed us to sit still, and have religion and our 
 liberties one by one snatched from us, for fear lest rising 
 to defend ourselves we should fright the queen, a stiff 
 papist, from turning protestant ! As if the way to make 
 his queen a protestant, had been to make his subjects 
 more than halfway papists. 
 
 He prays next, " that his constancy may be an anti- 
 dote against the poison of other men's example." His 
 constancy in what ? Not in religion, for it is openly 
 known, that her religion wrought more upon him, than 
 his religrion upon her; and his open favouring of papist?, 
 and his hatred of them called puritans, (the ministers 
 also that prayed in churches for her conversion, being 
 checked from court,) made most men suspect she had 
 quite perverted him. But what is it, that the blindness 
 of hypocrisy dares not do ? It dares pray, and thinks 
 to hide that from the eyes of God, which it cannot hide 
 from the open view of man. 
 
 VIII. Upon his Repulse at Hull, and the Fate of 
 the Hothams. 
 
 Hull, a town of great strength and opportunity both 
 to sea and land affairs, was at that time the magazine 
 of all those arms, which the king had bought with 
 money most illegally extorted from his subjects of 
 England, to use in a causeless and most unjust civil 
 war against his subjects of Scotland. The king in 
 high discontent and anger had left the parliament, and 
 was gone towards the north, the queen into Holland, 
 where she pawned and set to sale the crown jewels; (a 
 crime heretofore counted treasonable in kings ;) and to 
 what intent these sums were raised, the parliament was 
 
294 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASIUKE. 
 
 not ignorant. His going northward in so high a chnfo 
 they douhted was to possess himself of that strength, 
 which the storehouse and situation of Hull might add 
 suddenly to his malig^iant party. Having' first there- 
 fore in many petitions earnestly prayed him to dispose 
 and settle, with consent of both houses, the military 
 power in trusty hands, and he as oft refusing-, they 
 were necessitated by the turbulence and danger of 
 those tim^s, to put the kingdom by their own authority 
 into a posture of defence ; and very timely sent Sir 
 John Hotham, a member of the house, and knight of 
 that county, to take Hull into his custody, and some 
 of the trained bands to his assistance. For besides the 
 general danger, they had, before the king's going to 
 Y'ork, notice given them of his private commissions to 
 the earl of Newcastle, and to Colonel Legg,one of those 
 employed to bring the army up against the parliament ; 
 who had already made some attempts, and the former 
 of them under a disguise, to surprise that place for the 
 kingV party. And letters of the Lord Digby were in- 
 tercepted, wherein was wished, that the king would 
 declare himself, and retire to some safe place ; other 
 information came from abroad, that Hull was the place 
 designed for some new enterprise. And accordingly 
 Digby himself not long after, with many other com- 
 manders, and much foreign ammunition, landed in those 
 parts. But these attempts not succeeding, and that 
 town being now in custody of the parliament, he sends 
 a message to them, that he had firmly resolved to go 
 in person into Ireland, to chastise those wicked rebels, 
 (for these and worse words he then gave them,) and 
 that towards this work he intended forthwith to raise 
 by his commissions, in the counties near Westchester, 
 a guard for his own person, consisting of 2000 foot, and 
 200 horse, that should be armed from his magazine at 
 Hull. On the other side, the parliament, foreseeing 
 the king's drift, about the same time send him a peti- 
 tion, that they might have leave for necessary causes 
 to remove the magazine of Hull to the Tower of Lon- 
 don, to which the king returns his denial ; and soon 
 after going to Hull attended with about 400 horse, re- 
 quires the governor to deliver him up the town : 
 whereof the governor besought humbly to be excused, 
 till he could send notice to the parliament, who had 
 intrusted him ; whereat the king much incensed pro- 
 claims him traitor before the town walls, and gives im- 
 mediate order to stop all passages between him and 
 the parliament. Yet he himself dispatches post after 
 post to demand justice, as upon a traitor; using a 
 strange iniquity to require justice upon him, whom he 
 then waylaid, and debarred from his appearance. The 
 parliament no sooner understood what had pa.ssed, but 
 they declare, that Sir John Hotham had done no more 
 than was his duty, and was therefore no traitor. 
 
 This relation, being most true, proves that which is 
 affirmed here to be most false ; seeing the parliament, 
 whom he accounts his " greatest enemies," had " more 
 confidence to .ibet and own" what Sir .John Hotham 
 had done, than the king had confidence to let him an- 
 swer in his own behalf. 
 
 To speak of his patience, and in that solemn man- 
 
 ner, he might better have forborne; "God knows," 
 saith he, " it affected me more with sorrow for others, 
 than with anger for myself; nor did the affront trouble 
 me so much as their sin." This is read, I doubt not, 
 and believed : and as there is some use of every thing, 
 so is there of this book, were it but to show us, what ;i 
 miserable, credulous, deluded thing that creature is, 
 which is called the vulgar; who, notwithstanding what 
 they might know, will believe such vainglories as these. 
 Did not that choleric and vengeful act of proclaiming 
 him traitor before due process of law, having been con- 
 vinced so late before of his illegality with the five mem- 
 bers, declare bis anger to be incensed.-* doth not his 
 own relation confess as much ? and his second messagr 
 left him fuming three days after, and in plain words 
 testifies " his impatience of delay" till Hotham be se- 
 verely punished, for that which he there terms an in- 
 supportable affront. 
 
 Surely if his sorrow for Sir John Hotbam's sin were 
 greater than his anger for the affront, it was an ex- 
 ceeding great sorrow indeed, and wonderous charitable. 
 But if it stirred him so vehemently to have Sir John 
 Hotham punished, and not at all, that we hear, to have 
 him repent, it had a strange operation to be called a 
 sorrow for his sin. He who would persuade us of his 
 sorrow for the sins of other men, as they are sins, not 
 as they are sinned against himself, must give us fii"st 
 some testimony of a sorrow for his own sins, and next 
 for such sins of other men as cannot be supposed a di- 
 rect injury to himself. But such compunction in the 
 king no man hath yet observed ; and till then his sor- 
 row for Sir John Hotbam's sin will be called no other 
 than the resentment of his repulse; and his labour to 
 have the sinner only punished will be called by a right 
 name, his revenge. 
 
 And " the hand of that cloud, which cast all soon 
 after into darkness and disorder," was his own hand. 
 For assembling the inhabitants of Yorkshire and other 
 counties, horse and foot, first under colour of a new 
 guard to his person, soon after, being supplied with 
 ammunition from Holland, bought with the crown 
 jewels, he begins an open war by laying siege to Hull : 
 which town was not his own, but the kingdom's; and 
 the arms there, public arms, bought with the public 
 money, or not his own. Yet had they been his own by 
 as good right as the private house and arms of any man 
 are his own ; to use either of them in a way not private, 
 but suspicious to the commonwealth, no law permits. 
 But the king had no propriety at all either in Hull or in 
 the magazine : so that the following maxims, which he 
 cites " of bold and disloyal undertakers," may belong 
 more justly to whom he least meant them. After this 
 he again relapses into the praise of his patience at 
 Hull, and by hisovertalking of it seems to doubt eitlior 
 his own conscience or the hardness of other men's In - 
 lief. To me the more he praises it in himself, the 
 more he seems to suspect that in very deed it was 
 not in him ; and that the lookers on so liken i^c 
 thought. 
 
 Thus much of what he suffered by Hotham, and w ill 
 what patience; now of what Plotham suffered, as. li 
 
 H 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 295 
 
 judg'es, for opposing' him: " he could not but observe 
 how God not long after pleaded and avenged his cause." 
 Most men are too apt, and commonly the worst of men, 
 so to interpret and expound the judgments of God, 
 and all other events of Providence or chance, as makes 
 most to the justifying of their own cause, though never 
 so evil ; and attribute all to the particular favour of 
 God towards them. Thus when Saul heard that David 
 was in Kcilah, " God," saith he, " hath delivered him 
 into my hands, for he is shut in." But how far that 
 king was deceived in his thought that God was favour- 
 ing to his cause, that story unfolds ; and how little 
 reason this king had to impute the death of Hotham 
 to God's avengemcnt of his repulse at Hull, may easily 
 be seen. For while Hotham continued faithful to his 
 trust, no man more safe, more successful, more in re- 
 putation than he : but from the time he first sought to 
 make his peace with the king, and to betray into his 
 hands that town, into which before he had denied him 
 entrance, nothing prospered with him. Certainly had 
 God purposed him such an end for his opposition to the 
 king, he would not have deferred to punish him till 
 then, when of an enemy he was changed to be the 
 king's friend, nor have made his repentance and amend- 
 ment the occasion of his ruin. How much more likely 
 is it, since he fell into the act of disloyalty to his charge, 
 that the judgment of God concurred with the punish- 
 ment of man, and justly cut him off for revolting to 
 the king! to give the world an example, that glorious 
 deeds done to ambitious ends find reward answerable, 
 not to their outward seeming, but to their inward am- 
 bition. In the mean while, what thanks he had from 
 the king for revolting to his cause, ai>d what good opi- 
 nion for dying in his service, they who have ventured 
 like him, or intend, may here take notice. 
 
 He proceeds to declare, not only in general where- 
 fore God's judgment was upon Hotham, but under- 
 takes by fancies, and allusions, to give a criticism upon 
 every particular: " that his head was divided from his 
 body, because his heart was divided from the king; 
 two heads cut off in one family for affronting the head 
 of tiie commonwealth ; the eldest son being infected 
 with the sin of his father, against the father of his 
 country." These petty glosses and conceits on the high 
 and secret judgments of God, besides the boldness of 
 unwarrantable commenting, are so weak and shallow, 
 and so like the quibbles of a court sermon, that we may 
 safely reckon them either fetched from such a pattern, 
 or that the hand of some household priest foisted them 
 in ; lest the world should forget how much he was a 
 disciple of those cymbal doctors. But that argument, 
 by which the author would commend them to us, dis- 
 credits them the more : for if they be so " obvious to 
 every fancy," the more likely to be erroneous, and to 
 misconceive the mind of those high secrecies, whereof 
 they presume to determine. For God judges not by 
 human fancj'. 
 
 But however God judged Hotham, yet he had the 
 king's pity : but mark the reason how preposterous ; so 
 far he had his pity, " as he thought he at first acted 
 more against the light of his conscience, than many 
 
 other men in the same cause." Questionless they who 
 act against conscience, whether at the bar of human or 
 divine justice, are pitied least of all. These are the 
 common grounds and verdicts of nature, whereof when 
 he who hath the judging of a whole nation is found 
 destitute, under such a governor that nation must needs 
 be miserable. 
 
 By the way he jerks at " some men's reforming to 
 models of religion, and that they think all is gold of 
 piety, that doth but glister with a show of zeal." We 
 know his meaning, and apprehend how little hope there 
 could be of him from such language as this : but are 
 sure that the piety of his prelalic model glistered more 
 upon the posts and pillars, which their zeal and fer- 
 vency gilded over, than in the true works of s])iritual 
 edification. 
 
 " He is sorry that Hotham felt the justice of others, 
 and fell not rather into the hands of his mercy." But 
 to ckar that, he should have shewn us what mercy he 
 had ever used to such as fell into his hands before, ra- 
 ther than what mercy be intended to such as never 
 could come to ask it. Whatever mercy one man might 
 have expected, it is too well known the whole nation 
 found none ; though they besought it often, and so 
 humbly ; but had been swallowed up in blood and ruin, 
 to set his private will above the parliament, had not his 
 strength iailed him. " Yet clemency he counts a debt, 
 which he ought to pay to those that crave it; since we 
 pay not any thing to God for his mercy but prayers 
 and praises." By this reason we ought as freely to 
 pay all things to all men ; for of all that we receive 
 from God, what do we pay for, more than prayers and 
 praises ? we looke/l for the discharge of his office, the 
 payment of his duty to the kingdom, and are paid 
 court-payment with empty sentences that have the 
 sound of g^vity, but the significance of nothing per- 
 tinent. 
 
 Yet again after his mercy past and granted, he re- 
 tunis back to give sentence upon Hotham; and whom 
 he tells us he would so fain have saved alive, him he 
 never leaves killing with a repeated condemnation, 
 though dead long since. It was ill that somebody 
 stood not near to whisi^er him, that a reiterating judge 
 is worse than a tormentor. " He pities him, he rejoices 
 not, he pities him" again; but still is sure to brand 
 him at the tail of his pity with some ignominious mark, 
 either of ambition or disloyalty. And with a kind of 
 censorious pity aggravates rather than lessens or con- 
 ceals the fault: to pity thus, is to triumph. 
 
 He assumes to foreknow, that " after-times will dis- 
 pute, whether Hotham were more infamous at Hull, 
 or at Tower-hill." What knew he of after-times, who, 
 while he sits judging and censuring without end the 
 fate of that unhappy father and his son at Tower-hill, 
 knew not the like fate attended him before his own 
 palace gate ; and as little knew w hether after-times re- 
 serve not a greater infamy to the story of his own life 
 and reign .'' 
 
 He says but over again in his prayer what his 
 sermon hath preached : how acceptably to those in 
 heaven we leave to be decided by that precept, which 
 
396 
 
 AN ANSWER TO ElKON BASILIKE. 
 
 forbids " vain repetitions." Sure enough.it lies as heavy 
 as he can lay it upon the lieadof poor Hotham. 
 
 Needs he will fasten upon God a piece of revenge as 
 done for bis sake; and take it for a favour, before he 
 know it was intended him : which in his closet had 
 been excusable, but in a written and published prayer 
 too presumptuous. Ecclcsiastes hath a right name for 
 such kind of sacrifices. 
 
 Going on he prays thus, "Let not thy justice pre- 
 vent the objects and opportunities of my mercy." To 
 folly, or to blasphemy, or to both, shall we impute 
 this.'' Shall the justice of God give place, and serve to 
 glorify the mercies of a man ? All other men, who 
 know what they ask, desire of God, that their doings 
 may tend to his glory ; but in this prayer God is re- 
 quired, that his justice would forbear to prevent, and as 
 good have said to intrench upon the glory of a man's 
 mercy. If God forbear his justice, it must be, sure, to 
 the magnifying of his own mercy : how then can any 
 mortal man, without presumption little less than im- 
 pious, take the boldness to ask that glory out of his 
 hand .'' It may be doubted now by them who under- 
 stand religion, whether the king were more unfortunate 
 in this his prayer, or Hotham in those his sufferings. 
 
 IX. Upon the listing and raising Armies, §*c. 
 
 It were an endless work, to walk side by side with 
 the verbosity of this chapter ; only to what already 
 hath not been spoken, convenient answer shall be 
 given. He begins again with tumults : all demonstra- 
 tion of the people's love and loyalty to the parliament 
 was tumult; their petitioning tumult ; their defensive 
 armies were but listed tumults; and will take no no- 
 tice that those about him, those in a time of peace listed 
 into his own house, were the beginners of all these tu- 
 mults ; abusing and assaulting not only such as came 
 peaceably to the parliament at London, but those that 
 came petitioning to the king himself at York. Neither 
 did they abstain from doing violence and outrage to 
 the messengers sent from parliament ; he himself either 
 countenancing or conniving at them. 
 
 He supposes, that " his recess gave us confidence, 
 that he might be conquered." Other men suppose both 
 that and all things else, who knew him neither by na- 
 ture warlike, nor experienced, nor fortunate ; so far 
 was any man, that discerned aught, from esteeming him 
 unconquerable ; yet such are readiest to embroil others. 
 
 " But he had a soul invincible." What praise is 
 that? The stomach of a child is ofttiraes invincible to 
 all correction. The untcachabic man hath a soul to 
 all reason and good advice invincible ; and he who is 
 intractable, he whom nothing can persuade, may boast 
 himself invincible ; wbenas in some things to be over- 
 come, is more honest and laudable than to conquer. 
 
 He labours to have it thought, that " his fearing God 
 more than man " was the ground of his sufferings ; but 
 be should have known, that a good principle not rightly 
 understood may prove as hurtful as a bad ; and his 
 
 fear of God may be as faulty as a blind zeal. He pre- 
 tended to fear God more than the parliament, who never 
 urged him to do otherwise ; he should also have feared 
 God more than he did his courtiers, and the bishops, 
 who drew him, as they plesised, to things inconsistent 
 with the fear of God. Thus boasted Saul to have 
 " performed the commandment of God," and stood in 
 it against Samuel ; but it was found at length, that he 
 had feared the people more than God, in saving those 
 fat oxen for the worship of God, which were appointed 
 for destruction. Not much unlike, if not much worse, 
 was that fact of his, who, for fear to displease his 
 court and mongrel clergy, with the dissolutest of the 
 people, upheld in the church of God, while his power 
 lasted, those beasts of Amalec, the prelates, against the 
 advice of his parliament and the example of all refor- 
 mation ; in this more inexcusable than Saul, that Saul 
 was at length convinced, he to the hour of death fixed 
 in his false persuasion; and soothes himself in the flat- 
 tering peace of an erroneous and obdurate conscience ; 
 singing to his soul vain psalms of exultation, as if the 
 parliament had assailed his reason with the force of 
 arms, and not he on the contrary their reason with his 
 arms ; which hath been proved already, and shall be 
 more hereafter. 
 
 He twits them with " his acts of grace ;" proud, and 
 unselfknowing words in the mouth of any king, who 
 affects not to be a god, and such as ought to be as odi- 
 ous in the ears of a free nation. For if they were un- 
 just acts, why did he grant them as of grace ? If jus^ 
 it was not of his grace, but of his duty and his oath tc 
 grant them. 
 
 " A glorious king he would be, though by his suffer 
 iugs :" but that can never be to him, whose sufTerinj 
 are his own doings. He feigns " a hard choice " pul 
 upon him, " either to kill his subjects, or be killed. 
 Yet never was king less in danger of any violenci 
 from his subjects, till he unsheathed his sword agains 
 them ; nay long after that time, when he had spilt th< 
 blood of thousands, they had still his person in a fool- 
 ish veneration. 
 
 He complains, "that civil war must be the fruit 
 of his seventeen years reigning with such a measure ol 
 justice, peace, plenty, and religion, as all nations eithe 
 admired or envied." For the justice we had, let th( 
 council-table, star-chamber, high-commission speak the 
 praise of it; not forgetting the unprincely usage, and 
 as far as might be, the abolishing of parliaments, th< 
 displacingof honest judges, the sale of offices, bribery 
 and exaction, not found out to be punished, but to 1h 
 shared in with impunity for the time to come. Wh« 
 can number the extortions, the oppressions, the publi< 
 robberies and rapines committed on the subject both bj 
 sea and land under various pretences ? their possessiot 
 also taken from them, one while as forest-land, anothc 
 while as crown-land ; nor were their goods exempted 
 no not the bullion in the mint ; piracy was become I 
 project owned and authorized against the subject. 
 
 For the peace we had, what peace was that whicb 
 drew out the English to a needless and dishonourabU 
 voyage against the Spaniard at Cales ? Or that which 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 297 
 
 lent our shipping to a treacherous and antichristian 
 war against the poor j)rotestants of" Rochel our suppli- 
 ants ? What peace was that which fell to rob the 
 French by sea, to the embamng of all our merchants 
 in that kingdom ? which brought forth that unblest ex- 
 pedition to the Isle of Rhec, doubtful whether more 
 calamitous in the success or in the design, betraying all 
 the flower of our military youth and best commanders 
 to a shameful surprisal and execution. This was the 
 peace we had, and the peace we gave, whether to 
 friends or to foes abroad. And if at home any peace 
 were intended us, what meant those Irish billetted sol- 
 diers in all parts of the kingdom, and the design of 
 German horse to subdue us in our peaceful houses ? 
 
 For our religion, where was there a more ignorant, 
 profane, and vitious clergy, learned in nothing but the 
 antiquity of their pride, their covetousness, and super- 
 stition ? whose unsincere and leavenous doctrine, cor- 
 rupting the people, first taught them looseness, then 
 bondage ; loosening them from all sound knowledge 
 and strictness of life, the more to fit them for the bond- 
 age of tyranny and superstition. So that what was 
 left us for other nations not to pity, rather than admire 
 or envy, all those seventeen years, no wise man could 
 see. For wealth and plenty in a land where justice 
 reigns not is no argument of a flourishing state, but of 
 a nearness rather to ruin or commotion. 
 
 These were not " some miscarriages" only of govern- 
 ment, " which might escape," but a universal distem- 
 per, and reducement of law to arbitrary power; not 
 through the evil counsels of" some men," but through 
 the constant course and practice of all that were in 
 highest favour : whose worst actions frequently avow- 
 ing he took upon himself; and what faults did not yet 
 seem in public to be originally his, such care he took 
 by professing, and proclaiming openly, as made them 
 all at length his own adopted sins. The persons also, 
 when he could no longer protect, he esteemed and fa- 
 voured to tiie end ; but never, otherwise than by con- 
 straint, yielded any of them to due punishment ; thereby 
 manifesting that what they did was by bis own author- 
 ity and ap])robation. • 
 
 Yet here he asks, " whose innocent blood he hath 
 shed, what widows' or orphans' tears can witness against 
 him.''" After the suspected poisoning of his father, not 
 inquired into, but smothered up, and him protected and 
 advanced to the very half of his kingdom, who was 
 accused in parliament to be author of the fact ; (with 
 much more evidence than Duke Dudley, that false pro- 
 tector, is accused upon record to have poisoned Edward 
 the Sixth ;) after all his rage and persecution, after so 
 many years of cruel war on his people in three king- 
 doms ! Whence the author of " Truths manifest,"* a 
 Scotsman, not unacquainted with affairs, positively 
 affirms, " that there hath been more christian blood 
 shed by the commission, approbation, and connivance 
 of King Charles, and his father James, in the latter end 
 of their reign, than in the ten Roman persecutions." 
 Not to speak of those many whippings, pillories, and 
 
 • The title of the treatise here referred to, is. Truth its Manifest ; or, a 
 short and true Kelation of divers maiu Passages of Things (in seme whereof 
 tlic Scots are particularly concerned) from the very first Beginning of these 
 
 Other corporal inflictions, wherewith his reign also bo- 
 fore this war was not unbloody ; some have died in 
 prison under cruel restraint, others in banishment, 
 whose lives were shortened through the rigour of that 
 persecution, wherewith so many years he infested the 
 true church. And those six members all men judged 
 to have escaped no less than capital dangei", whom he 
 so greedily pursuing into the house of commons, had 
 not there the forbearance to conceal how much it trou- 
 bled him, " that the birds were flown." If some vul- 
 ture in the mountains could have opened his beak in- 
 telligibly and spoke, what fitter words could he have 
 uttered at the loss of his prey? The tyrant Nero, 
 though not yet deserving that namc; set bis hand so 
 unwillingly to the execution of a condemned person, 
 as to wish " he had not known letters." Certainly for 
 a king himself to charge his subjects with high trea- 
 son, and so vehemently to prosecute them in his own 
 cause, as to do the office of a searcher, argued in him 
 no great aversation from shedding blood, were it but 
 to " satisfy his anger," and that revenge was no un- 
 pleasing morsel to him, whereof he himself thought 
 not much to be so diligently his own caterer. But we 
 insist rather upon what was actual, than what was 
 probable. 
 
 He now falls to examine the causes of this war, as a 
 difficulty which he bad long " studied" to find out. 
 " It >vas not,"saith he," my withdrawing from White- 
 hall ; for no account in reason could be given of those 
 tumults, where an orderly guard was granted." But 
 if it be a most certain truth, that the ])arliament could 
 never yet obtain of him any guard fit to be confided in, 
 then by his own confession some account of those pre- 
 tended tumults " may in reason be given ;" and both 
 concerning them and the guards enough hath been said 
 already. 
 
 " Whom did he protect against the justice of parlia- 
 ment?" Whom did he not to his utmost power? En- 
 deavouring to have rescued Strafl^brd from their justice, 
 though with the destruction of them and the city ; to 
 that end expressly commanding the admittance of new 
 soldiers into the Tower, raised by Suckling and other 
 conspirators, under pretence for the Portugal ; though 
 that ambassador, being sent to, utterly denied to know 
 of any such commission from his master. And yet 
 that listing continued : not to repeat his other plot of 
 bringing up the two armies. But what can be disputed 
 with such a king, in whose mouth and opinion the 
 parliament itself was never but a faction, and their 
 justice no justice, but " the dictates and overswaying 
 insolence of tumults and rabbles ?" and under that ex- 
 cuse avouches himself openly the general patron of 
 most notorious delinquents, and approves their flight 
 out of the land, whose crimes were such, as that the 
 justest and the fairest trial would have soonest con- 
 demned them to death. But did not Catiline plead in 
 like manner against the Roman senate, and the injust- 
 ice of their trial, and the justice of his flight from 
 Rome ? Caesar also, then hatching tyranny, injected 
 
 unhappy Troubles to this Day. Published in T2mo, 1645. A reply to this 
 was published in quarto, 1646, entitled, Manifest Trullis; or, an luversiun 
 of Truths Manifest. 
 
20t» 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 the same scrupulous demurs, to stop the sentence of 
 death in full and free senate decreed on Lentulus and 
 Cethegus, two of Catiline's accomplices, which were 
 renewed and urged for Strafford. He vouchsafes to 
 the reformation, by both kingdoms intended, no better 
 name than " innovation and ruin both in church and 
 state." And what we would have learned so gladly of 
 him in other passages before, to know wherein, he tells 
 us now of his own accord. The expelling bishops out 
 of the house of peers, that was "ruin to the state;" the 
 " removing" them " root and branch," this was " ruin 
 to the church." 
 
 How happy could this nation be in such a governor, 
 who counted that their ruin, which they thought their 
 deliverance; the ruin both of church aud state, which 
 M'as the recovery and the saving of them both ? 
 
 To the passing of those bills against bishops how is 
 it likely that the house of peers gave so hardly their 
 consent, which they gave so easily before to the at- 
 taching them of high treason, twelve at once, only for 
 protesting that the parliament could not act without 
 them.'* Surely if their rights aud privileges were 
 Uiought so undoubted in that house, as is here main- 
 tained ; then was that protestation, being meant and 
 intended in the name of their whole spiritual order, no 
 treason ; and so that house itself will become liable to 
 a just construction either of injustice to appeach them 
 for so consenting, or of usurpation, representing none 
 but themselves, to expect that their voting or not voting 
 should obstruct the commons : who not for " five re- 
 pulses of tlie lords," no not for fifty, were to desist from 
 what in the name of the whole kingdom they demand- 
 ed, so long as those lords were none of our lords. And 
 for the bill against root and branch, though it passed 
 not in both houses till many of the lords and some (evr 
 of the commons, either enticed away by the king, or 
 overawed by the sense of their own malignancy not 
 prevailing, deserted the parliament, and made a fair 
 riddance of themselves ; that was no warrant for them 
 who remained faithful, being far the greater number, 
 to lay aside that bill of root and branch, till the return 
 of their fugitives ; a bill so necessary and so much de- 
 sired by themselves as well as by the people. 
 
 This was the partiality, this degrading of the bishops, 
 a thing so wholesome in the state, and so orthodoxal 
 in the church both ancient and reformed ; which the 
 king rather than assent to " will either hazard both his 
 own and the kingdom's ruin," by our just defence 
 against his force of arms ; or prostrate our consciences 
 in a blind obedience to himself, and those men, whose 
 superstition, zealous or unzealous, would enforce upon 
 us an antichristian tyranny in the church, neither pri- 
 mitive, apostolical, nor more anciently universal than 
 some other manifest corruptions. 
 
 But " he w as bound, besides his judgment, by a most 
 strict and indispensable oath, to preserve the order and 
 the rights of the church." If he mean that oath of his 
 coronation, and that the letter of that oath admit not to 
 be interpreted either by equity, reformation, or better 
 knowledge, then was tlie king bound by that oath, to 
 grant the clergy all those customs, franchises, and cano- 
 
 nical privileges granted to them by Edward the Con- 
 fessor: and so might one day, under pretence of that 
 oath and his conscience, have brought us all again to 
 popery : but had he so well remembered as he ought 
 the words to which he swore, be might have found 
 himself no otherwise obliged there, than " according to 
 the laws of God, and true profession of the gospel." 
 For if those following words, " established in this king- 
 dom," be set there to limit and lay prescription on the 
 laws of God and truth of the gospel by man's estab- 
 lishment, nothing can be more absurd or more injuri- 
 ous to religion. So that however the German em- 
 perors or other kings have levied all those wars on their 
 protestant subjects under the colour of a blind and 
 literal observance to an oath, yet this king had least 
 pretence of all ; both sworn to the laws of God and 
 evangelic truth, and disclaiming, as we heard him be- 
 fore, " to be bound by any coronation oath, in a blind 
 and brutish formality." Nor is it to be imagined, if 
 what shall be established come in question, but that the 
 parliament should oversway the king, and not he the 
 parliament. And by all law and reason that which 
 the parliament will not is no more established in this 
 kingdom, neither is the king bound by oath to uphold 
 it as a thing established. And that the king (who of 
 his princely grace, as he professes, hath so oft abolished 
 things that stood firm by law, as the star-chamber and 
 high-commission) ever thought himself bound by oath 
 to keep them up, because established ; he who will be- 
 lieve, must at the same time condemn him of as many 
 perjuries, as he is well known to have abolished bolh 
 laws and jurisdictions that wanted no establishment. 
 
 " Had he gratified," he thinks, " their aiitiepiscopal 
 faction with his consent, aud sacrificed the church- 
 government and revenues to the fury of their covetous- 
 ness," &c. an army had not been raised. Whereas it 
 was the fury of his own hatred to the professors of true 
 religion, which first incited him to prosecute them with 
 the sword of war, when whips, pillories, exiles, and im- 
 prisonments were not thought sufficient. To colour 
 which he cannot find wherewithal, but that stale pre- 
 tence of Charles the Vth, and other popish kings, that 
 the protestants had only an intent to lay hands upon 
 the church-revenues, a thing never in the thoughts of 
 this parliament, till exhausted by his endless war upon 
 them, their necessity seized on that for the common- 
 wealth, which the luxury of prelates had abused before 
 to a common mischief. 
 
 His consent to the unlording of bishops, (for to that 
 he himself consented, and at Canterbury the chief seat 
 of their pride, so God would have it!) " was from his 
 film persuasion of their contentedncss to sufl^er a pre- 
 sent diminution of their rights." Can any man, read- 
 ing this, not discern the pure mockery of a royal 
 consent, to delude us only for " the present," meaning, 
 it seems, when time should serve, to revoke all .' By 
 this reckoning, his consents and his denials come all 
 to one pass : and we may hence ])crceive the small 
 wisdom and integrity of those votes, which voted his 
 concessions of the Isle of Wight for grounds of a last- 
 ing peace. This he alleges, this controversy about 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 299 
 
 bishops, " to be the true state" of that difference be- 
 tween him and the parliament. For he held episco- 
 pacy " both very sacred and divine ;" with this judg- 
 ment, and for this cause, he withdrew from the parlia- 
 ment, and confesses that some men knew " he was like 
 to bring again the same judgment which he carried 
 with him." A fair and unexpected justification from 
 his own mouth afforded to the parliament, who, not- 
 withstanding what they knew of his obstinate mind, 
 omitted not to use all those means and that patience to 
 have gained him. 
 
 As for delinquents, " he allows them to be but the 
 necessary consequences of his and their withdrawing 
 and defending," a pretty shift ! to mince the name of 
 a delinquent into a necessary consequent : what is a 
 traitor, but the necessary consequence of his treason .'* 
 What a rebel, but of his rebellion ? From his conceit 
 he would infer a pretext only in the parliament " to 
 fetch in delinquents," as if there had indeed been no 
 such cause, but all the delinquency in London tu- 
 mults. Which is the overworn theme and stuffing of 
 all bis discourses. 
 
 This he thrice repeats to be the true state and reason 
 of all that war and devastation in the land ; and that 
 " of all the treaties and propositions" offered him, he 
 was resolved " never to grant the abolishing of episco- 
 pal, or the establishment of presbyterian, government." 
 I would demand now of the Scots and covenanters, (for 
 so I call them, as misobservers of the covenant,) how 
 they will reconcile " the preservation of religion and 
 their liberties, and the bringing of delinquents to con- 
 dign punishment," with the freedom, honour, and 
 safety of this avowed resolution here, that esteems al 
 the zeal of their prostituted covenant no better than 
 " a noise and shew of piety, a heat for reformation, 
 filling them with prejudice, and obstructing all equality 
 and clearness of judgment in them." With these prin- 
 ciples who knows but that at lengtli lie might have 
 come to take the covenant, as others, whom they bro- 
 therly admit, have done before him ? And then all, no 
 doubt, had gone well, and ended in a hapj)y peace. 
 
 His prayer is most of it borrowed out of David ; but 
 what if it be answered him as the Jews, who tinjsted in 
 Moses, were answered by our Saviour ; " there is one 
 that accuseth you, even David, whom you misapply." 
 
 He tells God, " that his enemies are many," but tells 
 the people, when it serves his turn, they are but " a 
 faction of some few, prevailing over the major part of 
 both houses." 
 
 " God knows he had no passion, design, or prepara- 
 tion, to embroil his kingdom in a civil war." True ; 
 for he thought his kingdom to be Issachar, a " strong 
 ass that would have couched down between two bur- 
 dens," the one of prelatical superstition, the other of 
 civil tyranny : but what passion and design, what 
 close and open preparation he had made, to subdue us 
 to both these by terrour and preventive force, all the 
 nation knows. 
 
 " The confidence of some men had almost persuaded 
 
 him to suspect his own innocence." As tlie words- of 
 
 * The second edition has so fain. To feign, is to dissemble ; but we use 
 
 Saint Paul had almost persuaded Agrippa to be a Chris- 
 tian. But almost, in the works of repentance, is as 
 good as not at all. 
 
 " God," saith he, " will find out bloody and deceit- 
 ful men, many of whom have not lived out half their 
 days." It behoved him to have been more cautious 
 how he tempted God's finding out of blood and deceit, 
 till his own years had been further spent, or that he had 
 enjoyed longer the fruits of his own violent counsels. 
 
 But instead of wariness he adds another temptation, 
 charging God " to know, that the chief design of this 
 war was either to destroy his person, or to force his 
 judgment." And thus his prayer, from the evil prac- 
 tice of unjust accusing men to God, arises to the hide- 
 ous rashness of accusing God before men, to know that 
 for truth which all men know to be most false. 
 
 He prays, " that God would forgive the people, for 
 they know not what they do." It is an easy matter to 
 say over what our Saviour said ; but how be loved the 
 people other arguments than affected sayings must de- 
 monstrate. He who so oft hath presumed rashly to 
 appeal to the knowledge and testimony of God in things 
 so evidently untrue, may be doubted what belief or 
 esteem he had of his forgiveness, either to himself, or 
 those for whom he would *so feign tliat men should 
 bear he prayed. 
 
 X. [/pott their teizing the ma gazinet, forts, ijr. 
 
 To put the matter soonest out of controversy who 
 was the first beginner of this civil war, since the begin- 
 ning of all war may be discerned not only by the first 
 act of hostility, but by the counsels and preparations 
 foregoing, it shall evidently appear, that the king was 
 still foremost in all these. No king had ever at his 
 first coming to the crown more love and acclamation 
 from a people ; never any people found worse requital 
 of their loyalty and good affection : first, by his extra- 
 ordinary fear and mistrust, that their liberties and rights 
 were the impairing and diminishing of his regal power, 
 the true original of tyranny ; next, by his hatred to all 
 those who were esteemed religious ; doubting that 
 their principles too much asserted liberty. This was 
 quickly seen by the vehemence, and the causes alleged 
 of his persecuting, the other by his frequent and oppro- 
 brious dissolution of parliaments ; after he had de- 
 manded more money of them, and they to obtain their 
 rights had granted him, than would have bought the 
 Turk out of Morca, and set free all the Greeks. But 
 when be sought to extort from us, by way of tribute, 
 that which had been offered to him conditionally in 
 parliament, as by a free people, and that those extor- 
 tions were now consumed and wasted by the luxury 
 of his court, he began then (for still the more he did 
 wrong, the more he feared) before any tumult or insur- 
 rection of the people to take counsel how he might to- 
 tally subdue them to his own will. Then was the 
 design of German horse, while the duke reigned, and 
 the word feign for fond desire of a thing. 
 
900 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 which ivas worst of all, some thousands of the Irish 
 papists were in several parts billeted upon us, wiiile a 
 parliament was then sitting'. The pulpits resounded 
 with no other doctrine than that which g'uve all pro- 
 perty to the king, and passive obedience to the subject. 
 After which, innumerable forms and shapes of new ex- 
 actions and exactors overspread the land : nor was it 
 enough to be impoverished, unless we were disarmed. 
 Our trained bands, wiiicb are tbe trustiest and most 
 proper strengtli of a free nation not at war with itself, 
 bad their arms in divers counties taken from them ; 
 other ammunition by design was ingrossed and kept in 
 the Tower, not to be bought without a licence, and at 
 a high rate. 
 
 Thus far and many other ways were his counsels 
 and preparations before-hand with us, either to a civil 
 war, if it should happen, or to subdue us without a 
 war, which is all one, until the raising of his two ar- 
 mies against the Scots, and the latter of them raised to 
 the most perfidious breaking of a solemn pacification : 
 the articles whereof though subscribed with his own 
 hand, he commanded soon after to be burned openly 
 by the hangman. What enemy durst have done him 
 that dishonour and affront, which he did therein to 
 himself? 
 
 After the beginning of this parliament, whom he saw 
 so resolute and unanimous to relieve the common- 
 wealth, and that the earl of Strafford was condemned 
 to die, other of his evil counsellors impeached and im- 
 prisoned; to shew there wanted not evil counsel within 
 himself sufficient to begin a war upon his subjects, 
 though no Avay by them provoked, he sends an agent 
 with letters to the king of Denmark, requiring aid 
 against the parliament : and that aid was coming, 
 when Divine Providence, to divert them, sent a sudden 
 torrent of S%vedes into the bowels of Denmark. He 
 then endeavours to bring up both armies, fii-st the Eng- 
 lish, with whom 8000 Irish papists, raised by Straf- 
 ford, and a French army were to join ; tiien the Scots 
 at Newcastle, whom he thought to have encouraged 
 by telling them what money and horse he was to have 
 from Denmark. I mention not the Irish conspiracy 
 till due place. These and many other were his coun- 
 sels toward a civil war. His preparations, after those 
 two armies were dismissed, could not suddenly be too 
 open : nevertheless there were 8000 Irish papists,which 
 he refused to disband, though entreated by both houses, 
 first for reasons best known to himself, next under pre- 
 tence of lending them to the Spaniard ; and so kept 
 them undisbanded till very near the month wherein 
 that rebellion broke forth. He was also raising forces 
 in London, pretendedly to serve the Portugal, but with 
 intent to seize the Tower ; into which divers cannoneers 
 were by him sent with many fireworks and grenadoes ; 
 and many great battering pieces were mounted against 
 the city. The court was fortified with ammunition, and 
 soldiers new listed, who followed the king from I>m- 
 don, and appeared at Kingston some hundreds of horse 
 in a warlike manner, with waggons of ammunition 
 after them ; the queen in Holland was buying more ; 
 of which the parliament had certain knowledge, and 
 
 had not yet so much as demanded the militia to be set- 
 tled, till they knew both of her going over sea, and to 
 u hat intent, for she had packed up the crown jeweUi 
 to have been going long before, bad not the parliament,] 
 suspecting by tlie discoveries at Burrow-bridge what 
 was intended with the jewels, used means to stay hei 
 journey till the winter. Hull and the magazine there] 
 had been secretly attempted under the king's hand : 
 from whom (though in his declarations renouncing al 
 thought of war) notes were sent oversea for supply ol 
 arms ; which were no sooner come, but the inhabitant 
 of Yorkshire and other counties were called to arms 
 and actual forces raised, while the parliament were ye 
 petitioning in- peace, and had not one man listed. 
 
 As to the act of hostility, though not much materia 
 in whom first it began, or by whose commissions dated 
 first, after such counsels and preparations discovered, 
 and so far advanced by the king, yet in that act also he 
 will be found to have had precedency, if not at London 
 by the assault of his armed court upon the naked people 
 and his attempt upon the house of commons, yet cer 
 tainlj' at Hull, first by his close practices on that town 
 next by his siege. Thus whether counsels, preparations 
 or acts of hostility be considered, it appears with evi 
 dencc enough, though much more might be said, tha 
 the king is truly charged to be the first beginner c 
 these civil wars. To which may be added as a close 
 that in the Isle of Wight he charged it upon himsel 
 at the public treaty, and acquitted the parliament. 
 
 But as for the securing of Hull atid the public store 
 therein, and in other places, it was no " surprisal c 
 his strength ;" the custody whereof by authority o 
 parliament was committed into hands most fit and mos 
 responsible for such a trust. It were a folly beyoni 
 ridiculous, to count ourselves a free nation, if tbe king 
 not in parliament, but in his own person, and againa 
 them, might appropriate to himself the strength of i 
 whole nation as his proper goods. What the laws » 
 the land are, a parliament should know best, haviu| 
 both the life and death of laws in their lawgivinj 
 power : and the law of England is, at best, but th 
 reason of parliament. The parliament therefore, taking 
 into their hands that whereof most properly they ougl 
 to have the keeping, committed no surprisal. If the< 
 prevented him, that argued not at all either " his inn« 
 cency or unprepareduess," but their timely foresigh 
 to use prevention. 
 
 But what needed that ? " They knew his chiefei 
 arms left him were those only, which the ancient Christ 
 ians were wont to use against their persecutors, prayer 
 and tears." O sacred reverence of God ! respect ai 
 shame of men ! whither were ye fled when these hj 
 pocrisies were uttered ? Was the kingdom tiicn at 
 that cost of blood to remove from him none but praj'er 
 and teai-s ? What were those thousands of blasphemin] 
 cavaliers about him, whose mouths let fly oaths an 
 curses by the volley ; were those the prayers ? an< 
 those carouses drunk to the confbsion of all things goo( 
 or holy, did those minister the tears ? Were they prayer 
 and tears that were listed at York, mustered on HewortI 
 moor, and laid siege to Hull for the guard of his pel 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 301 
 
 son ? Were prayers and tears at so liig-h a rate in Hol- 
 land, that nothing' could purchase them but the crown 
 jewels ? Yet they in Holland (such word was sent us) 
 sold them for guns, carabines, mortar-pieces, cannons, 
 and other deadly instruments of war; which, when they 
 came to York, were all, no doubt by the merit of some 
 great saint, suddenly transformed into praj-ers and 
 tears : and, being divided into regiments and brigades, 
 were the only arms that mischieved us in all those bat- 
 tles and encounters. 
 
 These were his chief arms, whatever we must call 
 them, and yet such arms as they who fought for the 
 commonwealth have by the help of better prayers van- 
 quished and brought to nothing. 
 
 He bewails his want of the militia, " not so much in 
 reference to his own protection, as the people's, whose 
 many and sore oppressions grieve him." Never con- 
 sidering how ill for seventeen years together he had 
 protected them, and that these miseries of the people 
 are still his own handwork, having smitten thera, like 
 a forked arrow, so sore into the kingdom's sides, as 
 not to be drawn out and cured without the incision of 
 more flesh. 
 
 He tells us, that " what he wants in the hand of 
 power," he has in " the wings of faith and prayer." 
 But they who made no reckoning of those wings, while 
 they iiad that power in their bands, may easily mistake 
 the wings of faith for the wings of presumption, and 
 so fall headlong. 
 
 We meet next with a comparison, how apt let them 
 judge who have travelled to Mecca, " that the parlia- 
 ment have hung the majesty of kingship in an airy 
 imagination of regality, between the privileges of both 
 houses,- like the tomb of Mahomet." He knew not 
 that he was prophesying the death and burial of a 
 Turkish tyrainiy, that spurned down those laws which 
 gave it life and being, so long as it endured to be a 
 regulated monarchy. 
 
 He counts it an injury " not to have the sole power 
 in himself to help or hurt any ;" and that the " militia, 
 which he holds to be his undoubted right, should be 
 disposed as the parliament thinks fit:" and yet confesses, 
 that, if he had it in his actual disposing, he would de- 
 fend those w hom he calls " his good subjects, from those 
 men's violence and fraud, who would persuade the 
 world, that none but wolves are fit to be trusted with 
 the custody of the shepherd and bis flock." Surely, if 
 Me may guess whom he means here, by knowing whom 
 he hath ever most opposed in this controversy, we may 
 then assure oui-selves, that by violence and fraud he 
 means that which the parliament hath done in settling 
 the militia, and those the wolves into whose hands it 
 was by them intrusted : w liich draws a clear confession 
 from his own mouth, that if the parliament had left 
 him sole power of the militia, he w ould have used it to 
 the destruction of them and their friends. 
 
 As for sole power of the militia, which he claims as 
 a right no less undoubted than the crown, it hath been 
 oft enough told him, that he hath no more authority 
 over the sword, than over the law ; over the law he 
 hath none, either to establish or to abrogate, to interpret 
 
 or to execute, but only by his courts and in bis courts, 
 whereof the parliament is highest ; no more therefore 
 hath he power of the militia, which is the sword, either 
 to use or to dispose, but with consent of parliament ; 
 give him but that, and as good give him in a lump all 
 our laws and liberties. For if the power of the sword 
 were any where separate and undepending from the 
 ])ower of the law, which is originally seated in the 
 highest court, then would that power of the sword be 
 soon master of the law : and being at one man's disposal 
 might, when he pleased, control the law ; and in derision 
 of our Magna Charta, which were but weak resistance 
 against an armed tyrant, might absolutely enslave us. 
 And not to have in ourselves, though vaunting to be 
 freeborn, the power of our own freedom, and the public 
 safety, is a degree lower than not to have the property 
 of our own goods. For liberty of person, and the right 
 of self-preservation, is much nearer, much more natural, 
 and more worth to all men, than the propriety of their 
 goods and wealth. Yet such power as ail this did the 
 king in open terms challenge to hare over us, and 
 brought thousands to help him win it ; so much more 
 good at fighting than at understanding, as to persuade 
 themselves, that they fought then for the subject's 
 liberty. 
 
 He is contented, because he knows no other remedy, 
 to resign this power " for his own time, but not for his 
 successors : " so diligent and careful he is, that we 
 should be slaves, if not to him, yet to his posterity, and 
 fain would leave us the legacy of another war about 
 it. But the parliament have done well to remove that 
 question : whom, as his manner is to dignify with 
 some good name or other, he calls now a " many- 
 headed hydra of government, full of factious distrac- 
 tions, and not more eyes than mouths." Yet surely 
 not more mouths, or not so wide, as the dissolute rab- 
 ble of all his courtiers bad, both bees and shees, if there 
 were any males among them. 
 
 He would prove, that tb govern by parliament hatli 
 " a monstrosity rather than perfection;" and grounds 
 his argument upon two or three eminent absurdities : 
 first, by placing counsel in the senses; next, by turn- 
 ing the senses out of the head, and in lieu thereof plac- 
 ing power supreme above sense and reason : which be 
 now the greater monstrosities? Further to dispute what 
 kind of government is best would be a long debate ; it 
 suflSceth that his reasons here for monarchy are found 
 weak and inconsiderable. 
 
 He bodes much " horrour and bad influence after 
 his eclipse." He speaks his wishes ; but they who by 
 weighing prudently things past foresee things to come, 
 the best divination, may hope rather all good success 
 and happiness, by removing that darkness, which the 
 misty cloud of his prerogative made between us and a 
 peaceful reformation, which is oiir true sun-light, and 
 not he, though he would be taken for our sun itself. 
 And wherefore should we not hope to be governed 
 more happily without a king, whenas all our misery 
 and trouble hath been either by a king, or by our ne- 
 cessary vindication and defence against him.'* 
 
 He would be thought " iuforced to perjury," by hav- 
 
303 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASTLIKE. 
 
 '"n granted the militia, by which his oath bound him 
 to protect the people. If he can be perjured in grant- 
 ing that, why doth he refuse for no other cause the 
 abolishing of episcopacy ? But never was any oath so 
 blind as to swear him to protect delinquents against 
 justice, but to protect all the people in that order, and 
 by those hands which the parliament should advise 
 him to, and the protected confide in ; not under the 
 sho«v of protection to hold a violent and incommunica- 
 ble sword over us, as ready to be let fall upon our own 
 necks, as upon our enemies ; nor to make our own 
 hands and weapons fight against our own liberties. 
 
 By his parting with the militia he takes to himself 
 much praise of his " assurance in God's protection ;" 
 and to the parliament imputes the fear " of not daring 
 to adventure the injustice of their actions upon any other 
 way of safety." But wherefore came not this assur- 
 ance of God's protection to him till the militia was 
 wrung out of his hands ? It should seem by his holding 
 it so fast, that his own actions and intentions had no 
 less of injustice in them, than what he charges upon 
 others, whom he terms Chaldeans, Sabeans, and the 
 devil himself But Job used no such militia against 
 those enemies, nor such a magazine as was at Hull, 
 which this king so contended for, and made war upon 
 us, that he might have wherewithal to make war 
 against us. 
 
 He concludes, that, " although they take all from 
 him, yet can they not obstruct his way to heaven." It 
 was no handsome occasion, by feigning obstructions 
 where they are not, to tell us whither he was going : 
 he should have shut the door, and prayed in secret, not 
 here in the high street. Private prayers in public ask 
 something of whom they ask not, and that shall be 
 their reward. 
 
 XI. Upon the Nineteen Propositions, ffc. 
 
 Of the nineteen propositions he names none in parti- 
 cular, neither shall the answer: But he insists upon 
 the old plea of " his conscience, honour, and reason ;" 
 using the plausibility of large and indefinite words, to 
 defend himself at such a distance as may hinder the 
 eye of common judgment from all distinct view and 
 examination of his reasoning. " He would buy the 
 peace of his people at any rate, save only the parting 
 with his conscience and honour." Yet shews not how 
 it can happen that the peace of a people, if otherwise 
 to be bought at any rate, should be inconsistent or at 
 variance with the conscience and honour of a king. 
 Till then, we may receive it for a better sentence, that 
 nothing should be more agreeable to the conscience 
 and honour of a king, than to preserve his subjects in 
 peace; especially from civil war. 
 
 And which of the propositions were " obtruded on 
 him with the point of the sword," till he first with tlie 
 point of the sword thrust from him both the propositions 
 and the propouuders ? He never reckons those violent 
 and merciless obtrusions, which for almost twenty 
 
 years he had been forcing upon tender consciences by 
 all sorts of persecution, till througii the multitude of 
 them that were to suffer, it could no more be called a 
 persecution, but a plain war. From which when first 
 the Scots, then the English, were constrained to de- 
 fend themselves, this their just defence is that which 
 he calls here, " their making war upon his soul." 
 
 He grudges that " so many things are required of 
 him, and nothing offered him in requital of those fa- 
 vours which he had granted." What could satiate the 
 desires of this man, who being king of England, and 
 master of almost two millions yearly what by hook or 
 crook, was still in M'ant; and those acts of justice 
 which he was to do in duty, counts done as favours ; 
 and such favours as were not done without the avari- 
 cious hope of other rewards besides supreme honour, 
 and the constant revenue of his place ? 
 
 " This honour," he saith, " they did him, to put him 
 on the giving part." And spake truer than he intend- 
 ed, it being merely for honour's sake that they did so ; 
 not that it belonged to him of right : for what can he 
 give to a parliament, who receives all he hath from the 
 people, and for the people's good .'' Yet now he brings 
 his own conditional rights to contest and be preferred 
 before the people's good ; and yet unless it be in order 
 to their good, he hath no rights at all ; reigning by 
 the laws of the land, not by his own ; which laws are 
 in the hands of parliament to change or abrogate as 
 they shall see best for the commonwealth, even to the 
 taking away of kingship itself, when it grows too mas- 
 terful and burdensome. For every commonwealth is 
 in general defined, a society sufficient of itself, in all 
 things conducible to well-being and commodious life. 
 Any of which requisite things, if it cannot have with- 
 out the gift and favour of a .single person, or without 
 leave of his private reason or his conscience, it cannot 
 be thought sufficient of itself, and by consequence no 
 commonwealth, nor free; but a multitude of vassals in 
 the possession and domain of one absolute lord, and 
 wholly obnoxious to his will. If the king have power 
 to give or deny any thing to his parliament, he must 
 do it either as a person several from them, or as one 
 greater : neither of which will be allowed him : not to 
 be considered severally from them ; for as the king of 
 England can do no wrong, so neither can he do right 
 but in his courts and by his courts; and what is legally 
 done in them, shall be deemed the king's assent, though 
 he as a several person shall judge or endeavour the 
 contrary ; so that indeed without his courts, or against 
 them, he is no king. If therefore he obtrude upon us 
 any public mischief, or withhold from us any general 
 good, which is wrong in the highest degree, he must 
 do it as a tyrant, not as a king of England, by the 
 known maxims of our law. Neither can he, as one 
 greater, give aught to the parliament which is not in 
 their own power, but he must be greater also than the 
 kingdom which they represent: so that to honour him 
 with the giving part was a mere civility, and may bol 
 well termed the courtesy of England, not the king'aj 
 due. 
 
 But the " incommunicable jewel of his conscience"'' 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 303 
 
 he will not give, " but reserve to himself." It seems 
 that his conscience was none of the crown jewels ; for 
 those we know were in Holland, not incommunicable, 
 to buy arms against his subjects. Being therefore but 
 a private jewel, he could not have done a greater plea- 
 sure to the kingdom, than by reserving it to himself. 
 But he, contrary to what is here professed, would have 
 his conscience not an incommunicable, but a universal 
 conscience, the whole kingdom's conscience. Thus 
 what he seems to fear lest we should ravish from him, 
 is our chief complaint that he obtruded upon us ; we 
 never forced him to part with his conscience, but it was 
 he that would have forced us to part with ours. 
 
 Some things he taxes them to have offered him, 
 " which, while he had the mastery of his reason, he 
 would never consent to." Very likely ; but had his 
 reason mastered him as it ought, and not been mastered 
 long ago by his sense and humour, (as the breeding of 
 most kings hath been ever sensual and most humoured,) 
 perhaps he would have made no difficulty. Meanwhile 
 at what a fine pass is the kingdom, that must depend 
 in greatest exigencies upon the fantasy of a king's 
 reason, he he wise or fool, who arrogantly shall answer 
 all the wisdom of the land, that what they offer seems 
 to him unreasonable ! 
 
 He prefers his '' love of truth" before his love of the 
 people. His love of truth would have led him to the 
 search of truth, and have taught him not to lean so 
 much upon bis own understanding. He met at first 
 with doctrines of unaccountable prerogative ; in them 
 he rested, because they pleased him ; they therefore 
 pleased him because they gave him all ; and this he 
 calls his love of truth, and prefers It before the love of 
 his people's peace. 
 
 Some things they proposed, " which would have 
 wounded the inward peace of his conscience." The 
 more our evil hap, that three kingdoms should be thus 
 pestered with one conscience ; who chiefly scrupled to 
 grant us that, which the parliament advised him to, as 
 the chief means of our public welfare and reformation. 
 These scruples to many perhaps will seem pretended ; 
 to others, upon as good grounds, may seem real ; and 
 that it was the just judgment of God, that he who was 
 so cruel and so remorseless to other men's consciences, 
 should have a conscience within him as cruel to him- 
 self; constraining him, as he constrained others, and 
 ensnaring him in such ways and counsels as were cer- 
 tain to be his destruction. 
 
 " Other things though he could approve, yet in 
 honour and policy he thought fit to deny, lest he should 
 seem to dare deny nothing." By this means he will 
 be sure, what with reason, honour, policy, or punctilios, 
 to be found never unfurnished of a denial ; whether it 
 were his envy not to be overbounteous, or that the sub- 
 missness of our asking stirred up in him a certain plea- 
 sure of denying. Good princes have thought it their 
 chief happiness to be alwaj's granting; if good things, 
 for the things' sake ; if things indifferent, for the 
 people's sake ; while this man sits calculating variety 
 of excuses how he may grant least ; as if l:is whole 
 strength and royalty were placed in * mere negative. 
 
 Of one proposition especially he laments him much, 
 that they would bind him " to a general and implicit 
 consent for whatever they desired." Which though I 
 find not among the nineteen, yet undoubtedly the oath 
 of his coronation binds him to no less ; neither is he at 
 all by his office to intei-pose against a parliament in the 
 making or not making of any law; but to take that for 
 just and good legally, which is there decreed, and to 
 see it executed accordingly. Nor was he set over us 
 to vie wisdom with his parliament, but to be guided 
 by them; any of whom possibly may as far excel him 
 in the gift of wisdom, as he them in place and dignity. 
 But much nearer is it to impossibility, that any king 
 alone should he wiser than all his council ; sure enough 
 it w.TS not he, though no king ever before him so much 
 contended to have it thought so. And if the parlia- 
 ment so thought not, but desired him to follow their 
 advice and deliberation in things of public concern- 
 ment, he accounts it the same proposition, as if Sam- 
 son had been moved " to the putting out his eyes, that 
 the Philistines might abuse him." And thus out of an 
 unwise or pretended fear, lest others should make a 
 scorn of him for yielding to his parliament, he regards 
 not to give cause of worse suspicion, that he made a 
 scorn of his regal oath. 
 
 But " to exclude him from all power of denial seems 
 an arrogance;" in the parliament he means: what in 
 him then to deny against the parliament ? None at all, 
 by what he argues : for " by petitioning, they confess 
 their inferiority, and that obliges them to rest, if not 
 satisfied, yet quieted with such an answer as the will 
 and reason of their superior thinks fit to give." First, 
 petitioning, in better English, is no more than request- 
 ing or requiring ; and men require not favours only, but 
 their due ; and that not only from superiors, but from 
 equals, and inferiors also. The noblest Romans, when 
 they stood for that which was a kind of regal honour, 
 the consulship, were wont in a submissive manner to go 
 about, and beg that highest dignity of the meanest ple- 
 beians, naming them man by man ; which in their 
 tongue was called petitio consulatus. And the parlia- 
 ment of England petitioned the king, not because all 
 of them were inferior to him, but because he was infe- 
 rior to any one of them, which they did of civil custom, 
 and for fashion's sake, more than of duty ; for by plain 
 law cited before, the parliament is his superior. 
 
 But what law in any trial or dispute enjoins a free- 
 man to rest quieted, though not satisfied with the will 
 and reason of his superior ? Tt were a mad law that 
 would subject reason to superiority of place. And if 
 our highest consultations and purposed laws must be 
 terminated by the king's will, then is the will of one 
 man our law, and no subtlety of dispute can redeem 
 the parliament and nation from being slaves : neither 
 can any tyrant require more than that his will or rea- 
 son, though not satisfying, should yet be rested in, and 
 determine all things. We may conclude therefore, that 
 when the parliament petitioned the king,, it was but 
 merely form, let it be as " foolish and absurd" as he 
 pleases. It cannot certainly be so absurd as what he 
 requires, that the parliament should confine their own 
 
304 
 
 AN ANSWER TO KIKOX BASILIKE 
 
 and all the kingdom's reason to the will of one man, 
 because it was his hap to succeed his father. For 
 neither God nor the laws have subjected us to his will, 
 nor set his reason to be our sovereign above law, (which 
 must needs be, if he can strangle it in the birth,) but set 
 bis person over us in the sovereign execution of such 
 laws as the parliament establish. The parliament 
 therefore, without any usurpation, hath had it always 
 in their power to limit and confine the exorbitancy of 
 kings, whethei tbej call it their will, their reason, or 
 their conscience. 
 
 But this above all was never expected, nor is to be 
 endured, that a king, who is bound by law and oath to 
 follow tlie advice of his parliament, should be permitted 
 to except against them as " young statesmen," and 
 proudly to suspend his following their advice, " until 
 his seven years experience had shewn him how well 
 they could govern tiiemselves." Doubtless the law 
 never supposed so great an arrogance could be in one 
 man ; that he whose seventeen years unexperience had 
 almost ruined all, should sit another seven years school- 
 master to tutor tliose who were sent by the whole realm 
 to be his counsellors and teachers. And with what 
 modesty can he pretend to be a statesman himself, who 
 with his father's king-craft and his own, did never 
 that of his own accord, which was not directly opposite 
 to his professed interest both at home and abroad ; dis- 
 contenting and alienating his subjects at home, weak- 
 ening and deserting his confederates abroad, and with 
 them the common cause of religion ; so that the whole 
 course of his reign, by an example of his own furnish- 
 ing, hath resembled Phaeton more than Phoebus, and 
 forced tlie parliament to drive like Jehu ; which omen 
 taken from his own mouth, God hath not diverted.'' 
 
 And he on the other side might have remembered, 
 that the parliament sit in that body, not as his subjects, 
 but as bis superiors, called, not by him, but by the law ; 
 not only twice every j'car, but as oft as great affairs 
 require, to be his counsellors and dictators, though he 
 stomach it ; nor to be dissolved at his pleasure, but 
 when all grievances be first removed, all petitions heard 
 and answered. This is not only reason, but the known 
 law of the land. 
 
 " When he heard that propositions would be sent 
 him," he sat conjecturing wliat they would propound ; 
 and because they propounded what he expected not, 
 he takes that to be a warrant for his denying them- 
 But what did he expect .'' He expected that the par- 
 liament would reinforce " some old laws." But if those 
 laws were not a sufficient remedy to all grievances, 
 nay were found to be grievances themselves, when did 
 we lose that other part of our freedom to establish new ? 
 He thought " some injuries done by himself and others 
 to the commonwealth were to be repaired." But how 
 could that be, while he the chief offender took upon 
 him to be sole judge both of the injury and the repara- 
 tion? " He staid till the advantages of his crown con- 
 sidered, might induce him to condescend to the people's 
 good." When as the crown itself with all those ad- 
 vantages were therefore given him, that the people's 
 good should be first considered ; not bargained for, and 
 
 bought by inches with the bribe of more oflTertures and 
 advantages to his crown. He looked " for moderate 
 desires of due reformation ;" as if any such dcsiri> 
 could be immoderate. He looked for such a reforma- 
 tion " both in church and state, as might preserve" the 
 roots of every grievance and abuse in both still grow- 
 ing, (which he calls " the foundation and essentials,") 
 and would have only the excrescences of evil pruned 
 away for the present, as was plotted before, that they 
 might grow fast enough between triennial parliaments, 
 to hinder them by work enough besides from ever 
 striking at the root. He alleges, " They should have 
 had regard to the laws in force, to the wisdom and 
 piety of former parliaments, to the ancient and uni- 
 versal practice of christian churches." As if they who 
 come with full authority to redress public grievances, 
 which ofttimes are laws themselves, were to have their 
 hands bound by laws in force, or the supposition of 
 more piety and wisdom in their ancestors, or the prac- 
 tice of churches heretofore ; whose fathers, notwith- 
 standing all these pretences, made as vast alterations 
 to free themselves from ancient popery. For all anti- 
 quity that adds or varies from the Scripture, is no more 
 warranted to our safe imitation, than what was done 
 the age before at Trent. Nor was there need to have 
 despaired of what could be established in lieu of what 
 was to be annulled, having before his eyes the govern- 
 ment of so many churches bej'ond the seas; whose 
 pregnant and solid reasons wrought so with the par- 
 liament, as to desire a uniformity rather with all other 
 protestants, than to be a schism divided from them 
 under a conclave of thirty bishops, and a crew of irre- 
 ligious priests that gaped for the same preferment. 
 
 And whereas he blames those propositions for not 
 containing what they ought, what did they mention, 
 but to vindicate and restore the rights of parliament 
 invaded by cabin councils, the courts of justice ob- 
 structed, and the government of the church innovated 
 and corrupted ? All these things he might easily have 
 ob.served in them, which he affirms he could not find ; 
 but found "those demanding" in parliament, who 
 were " looked upon before as factious in the state, and 
 schismatical in the church ; and demanding not only 
 toleration for themselves in their vanity, novelty, and 
 confusion, but also an extirpation of that government, 
 whose lights they had a mind to invade." Was this 
 man ever likely to be advised, who with such a preju- 
 dice and disesteem sets himself against his chosen and 
 appointed counsellors ? likely ever to admit of reforma- 
 tion, who censures all the government of other protes- 
 tant churches, as bad as any papist could have cen- 
 sured them ? And what king had ever his whole 
 kingdom in such contempt, so to wrong and dishonour 
 the free elections of his people, as to judge them, whom 
 the nation thought worthiest to sit with him in parlia- 
 ment, few else but such as were "punishable by the 
 laws.'"' yet knowing that time was, when to be a pro- 
 testant,to be a Christian, was by law as punishalde as 
 to be a traitor; and that our Saviour himself, coming 
 to reform his church, was accused of an intent to 
 invade Csesar's right, as good a right as the prelate 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 305 
 
 bishops ever liail ; tlie one being got by force, the other 
 l^y spiritual usurpation; and both by force upheld. 
 
 He admires and falls into an extasy, that the parlia- 
 ment should send him such a "horrid proposition," as 
 the removal of episcopacy. But expect from him in 
 an extasy no other reasons of his admiration than the 
 dream and tautology of what he hath so often repeated, 
 law, antiquity, ancestors, prosperity, and the like, 
 which will be therefore not worth a second answer, but 
 may pass with his own comparison into the common 
 sewer of other popish arguments. 
 
 " Had the two houses sued out their livery from the 
 wardship of tumults," he could sooner have believed 
 them. It concerned them first to sue out their livery 
 from the unjust wardship of his encroaching preroga- 
 tive. And had he also reileemed his overdated mino- 
 rity from a pupilage under bishops, he would much 
 less have mistrusted his parliament ; and never would 
 have set so base a character upon them, as to count 
 them no better than the vassals of certain nameless 
 men, whom he charges to be such as "hunt after fac- 
 tion with their hounds the tumults." And yet the 
 bishops could have told him, that Nimrod, the first that 
 hunted after faction, is reputed by ancient tradition the 
 first that founded monarchy ; whence it appears, that 
 to hunt after faction is more properly the king's game; 
 and those hounds, which he calls the vulgar, have been 
 often hallooed to from court, of whom the mongrel sort 
 have been enticed ; the rest have not lost their scent, 
 but understood aright, that the parliament had that 
 part to act, which he had failed in ; that trust to dis- 
 charge, which he had broken ; that estate and honour 
 to preserve, which was far beyond l:is, the estate and 
 honour of the commonwealth, w hich he had embezzled. 
 
 Yet so far doth self-opinion or false principles delude 
 and transport him, as to think " the concurrence of his 
 reason " to the votes of parliament, not only political, 
 but natural, "and as necessary to the begetting," or 
 bringing forth of any one " complete act of public wis- 
 dom as the sun's influence is necessary to all nature's 
 productions." So that the parliament, it seems, is but 
 a female, and without his procreative reason, the laws 
 which they can produce are but wind-egcrs : wisdom, it 
 seems, to a king is natural, to a parliament not natu- 
 ral, but by conjunction with the king ; yet he professes 
 to hold his kingly right by law; and if no law could 
 be made but by the great council of a nation, which we 
 now term a parliament, then certainly it was a parlia- 
 ment that fii-st created kings; and not only made laws 
 before a king was in being, but those laws especially 
 whereby he holds his crown. He ought then to have 
 so thought of a parliament, if he count it not male, as 
 of his mother, which to civil being created both him and 
 the royalty he wore. And if it hath been anciently in- 
 terpreted the presaging sign of a future t^Tant, but to 
 dream of copulation with his mother, what can it bs 
 less than actual tyranny to affirm waking, that the 
 parliament, which is his mother, can neither conceive 
 or bring forth "any authoritative act" without his 
 masculine coition ? Nay, that his reason is as celestial 
 and life-giving to the parliament, as the sun's influ- 
 
 ence is to the earth : what other notions but these, or 
 such like, could swell up Caligula to think himself a 
 god? 
 
 But to be rid of these mortifying propositions, he 
 leaves no tyrannical evasion unessayed ; first, " that 
 they are not the joint and free desires of both houses, 
 or the major part;" next, " that the choice of many 
 members was carried on by faction." The former of 
 these is already discovered to be an old device put 
 first in practice by Charles the Fifth, since the refor- 
 mation : who when the protestants of Germany for 
 their own defence joined themselves in league, in his 
 declarations and remonstrances laid the fault only 
 upon some few, (for it was dangerous to take notice of 
 too many enemies,) and accused them, that under co- 
 lour of religion they had a purpose to invade his and 
 the church's right ; by which policy he deceived many 
 of the German cities, and kept them divided from that 
 league, until they saw themselves brought into a snare. 
 That other cavil against the people's choice puts us in 
 mind rather what the court was wont to do, and how 
 to tamper with elections : neither was there at that 
 time any faction more potent, or more likely to do 
 such a business, than they themselves who complain 
 most. 
 
 But " he must chew such morsels as propositions, 
 ere he let them down." So let him; but if the king- 
 dom shall taste nothing but after his chewing, what 
 does he make of the kingdom but a great baby ? 
 " The straitness of his conscience will not give him 
 leave to swallow down such camels of sacrilege and 
 injustice as others do." This is the Pharisee up and 
 down, " I am not as other men are." But what ca- 
 mels of injustice he could devour, all his three realms 
 were witness, which was the cause that they almost 
 perished for want of parliaments. And he that will be 
 unjust to man, will be sacrilegious to God ; and to be- 
 reave a Christian conscious of liberty for no other rea- 
 son than the narrowness of his own conscience, is the 
 most unjust measure to man, and the worst sacrilege 
 to God. That other, which he calls sacrilege, of tak- 
 ing from the clergy that superfluous wealth, which 
 antiquity as old as Constantine, from the credit of a 
 divine vision, counted " poison in the church," hath 
 been ever most opposed by men, whose righteousness 
 in other matters hath been least observed. He con- 
 cludes, as his manner is, with high commendation of 
 his own " unbiassed rectitude," and believes nothing to 
 be in them that dissent from him, but faction, innova- 
 tion, and particular designs. Of these repetitions I 
 find no end, no not in his prayer; which being founded 
 upon deceitful principles, and a fond hope that God 
 will bless him in those errours, which he calls " ho- 
 nest," finds a fit answer of St. James, " Ye ask and re- 
 ceive not, because ye ask amiss." As for the truth and 
 sincerity, which he prays may be always found in those 
 his declarations to the people, the contrariety of his 
 own actions will bear eternal witness, how little care- 
 ful or solicitous he was, what he promised or what he 
 uttered there. 
 
306 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BAST LIKE. 
 
 XII. Upon the Rebellion in Ireland. 
 
 The rebellion and horrid massacre of English pro- 
 testants in Ireland, to the number of 154,000 in the 
 province of Ulster only, by their own computation ; 
 which added to the other three, makes up the total 
 sum of that slaughter in all likelihood four times as 
 great ; although so sudden and so violent, as at first to 
 amaze all men that were not accessary ; yet from 
 whom and from what counsels it first sprung, neither 
 was nor could be possibly so secret, as the contrivers 
 thereof, blinded with vain hope, or the despair that 
 other plots would succeed, supposed. For it cannot be 
 imaginable, that the Irish, guided by so many subtle 
 and Italian heads of the Romish party, should so far 
 have lost the use of reason, and indeed of common 
 sense, as not supported with other strength than their 
 own, to begin a war so desperate and irreconcilable 
 against both England and Scotland at once. All other 
 nations, from whom they could expect aid, were busied 
 to the utmost in their own most necessary concernments. 
 It remains then that either some authority, or some 
 great assistance promised them from England, was that 
 whereon they chiefly trusted. And as it is not difficult 
 to discern from what inducing cause this insurrection 
 first arose, so neither was it hard at first to have ap- 
 plied some effectual remedy, though not prevention. 
 And yet prevention was not hopeless, when Strafford 
 either believed not, or did not care to believe, the seve- 
 ral warnings and discoveries thereof, which more than 
 once by papists and by friars themselves were brought 
 him ; besides what was brought by deposition, divers 
 months before that rebellion, to the archbishop of Can- 
 terbury and others of the king's council ; as the decla- 
 ration of " no addresses" declares. But the assurance 
 which they had in private, that no remedy should be 
 applied, was, it seems, one of the chief reasons that 
 drew on their undertaking. And long it was before 
 that assurance failed them ; until the bishops and po- 
 pish lords, who, while they sat and voted, still opposed 
 the sending aid to Ireland, were expelled the house. 
 
 Seeing then the main excitement and authority for 
 this rebellion must be needs derived from England, it 
 \\i\] be next inquired, who was the prime author. The 
 king here denounces a malediction temporal and eter- 
 nal, not simply to the author, but to tlie " malicious 
 author "of this bloodshed : and by that limitation may 
 exempt, not himself only, but perhaps the Irish rebels 
 themselves, who never will confess to God or man that 
 any blood was shed by them maliciously ; but either 
 in the catholic cause, or common liberty, or some other 
 specious plea, which the conscience from grounds both 
 good and evil usually suggests to itself: thereby think- 
 ing to elude the direct force of that imp' tation, which 
 lies upon them. 
 
 Yet he acknowledges, " it fell out as a most unhap- 
 py' advantage of some men's malice against him :" but 
 indeed of most men's just suspicion, by finding in it 
 no such wide departure or disagreement from the scope 
 of his former counsels and proceedings. And that he 
 
 himself was the author of that rebellion, he denies Loth 
 here and elsewhere, witli many imprecations, but nqn 
 solid evidence : What on tlie other side against his 
 denial hath been affirmed in three kingdoms, beiug 
 here briefly set in view, the reader may so judge as he 
 finds cause. 
 
 This is most certain, that the king was ever friendly t^ 
 the Irish papists, and in his third year, against the plaii 
 advice of parliament, like a kind of pope, sold then 
 many indulgences for money ; and upon all occasioni 
 advancing the popish party, and negotiating underhant 
 by priests, who were made his agents, engaged the IrisI 
 papists in a war against the Scots protestants. To thaJ 
 end he furnished them, and had them trained in, arms 
 and kept them up, either openly or underhand, the onlj 
 army in his three kingdoms, till the very burst of iha 
 rebellion. The summer before that dismal October, i 
 committee of most active papists, all since in the head o 
 that rebellion, were in great favour at Whitehall ; am 
 admitted to many private consultations with the king 
 and queen. And to make it evident that no mean mat 
 ters were the subject of those conferences, at their request 
 he gave away his peculiar right to more than five Irish 
 counties, for the payment of an inconsiderable rent 
 They departed not home till within two months befort 
 the rebellion ; and were either from the first breaking 
 out, or soon after, found to be the chief rebels them 
 selves. But what should move the king besides hi 
 own inclination to popery, and the prevalence of hii 
 queen over him, to hold such frequent and close meet 
 ings with a committee of Irish papists in his own house 
 while the parliament of England sat unadvised with 
 is declared by a Scots author, and of itself is cleai 
 enough. The parliament at the beginning of tha 
 summer, having put StraflTord to death, imprisonec 
 others his chief favourites, and driven the rest to fly 
 the king, who had in vain tempted both the Scots am 
 the English army to come up against the parliamen' 
 and city, finding no compliance answerable to his hop< 
 from the protestant annies, betakes himself last to the 
 Irish ; who had in readiness an army of eight thousanc 
 papists, which he had refused so often to disband, anc 
 a committee here of the same religion. With thera 
 who thought the time now come, (which to bring aboui 
 they had been many years before not wishing only 
 but with much industry complotting, to do some eml 
 nent service for the church of Rome and their own per 
 fidious natures, against a puritan parliament and the 
 hated English their masters,) he agrees and concludes 
 that so soon as both armies in England were disbanded 
 the Irish should appear in arms, master all the protest 
 ants, and help the king against his parliament. And 
 we need not doubt, that those five counties were givei 
 to the Irish for other reason than the four norther 
 counties had been a little before offered to the Scots^ 
 The king, in August, takes a journey into Scotland^ 
 and overtaking the Scots army then on their way home 
 attempts the second time to pervert them, but without 
 success. No sooner come into Scotland, but he lays a 
 plot, so saith the Scots author, to remove out of the 
 way such of the nobility there as were most likely to 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 307 
 
 withstand, or not to further his designs. This being- 
 discovered, he sends from his side one Dillon, a papist 
 lord, soon after a chief rebel, with letters into Ireland ; 
 and dispatches a commission under the great seal of 
 Scotland, at that time in his own custody, command- 
 ing that they should forthwith, as had been formerly 
 agreed, cause all the Irish to rise in anns. Who no 
 sooner had received such command, but obeyed, and 
 began in massacre ; for they knew no other m ay to 
 make sure the protestants, which was commanded them 
 expressly ; and the way, it seems, left to their discre- 
 tion. He who hath a mind to read the commission 
 itself, and sound reason added why it was not likely to 
 be forged, besides the attestation of so many Irish them- 
 selves, may have recourse to a book, entitled, " The 
 Mystery of Iniquity." Besides what the parliament 
 itself in the declaration of *' no more addresses" hath 
 affirmed, that they have one copy of that commission 
 in their own hands, attested by the oaths of some that 
 were eye-witnesses, and had seen it under the seal : 
 others of the principal rebels have confessed, that this 
 commission was the summer before promised at London 
 to the Irish commissioners ; to whom the king then 
 discovered in plain words his great desire to be re- 
 venged on the parliament of England. 
 
 After the rebellion broke out, which in words only 
 he detested, but underhand favoured and promoted by 
 all the offices of friendship, correspondence, and what 
 possible aid he could afford them, the particulars 
 whereof are too many to be inserted here ; I suppose 
 no understanding man could longer doubt who was 
 " author or instigator" of that rebellion. If there be 
 who yet doubt, I refer them especially to that declara- 
 tion of July 1643, with that of " no addresses" 1G47, 
 and another full volume of examinations to be set out 
 speedily concerning this matter. Against all which 
 testimonies, likelihoods, evidences, and apparent actions 
 of his own, being so abundant, his bare denial, though 
 with imprecation, can no way countervail ; and least 
 of all in his own cause. 
 
 As for the commission granted them, he thinks to 
 evade that by retorting, that " some in England fight 
 against him, and yet pretend his authority." But, 
 though a parliament by the known laws may afErm 
 justly to have the king's authority, inseparable from 
 that court, though divided from his person, it is not 
 credible that the Irish rebels, who so much tendered 
 his person above his authority, and were by him so well 
 received at Oxf(trd, would be so far from all humanity, 
 as to slander him with a particular comYfiission, signed 
 and sent them by his own hand. 
 
 And of his good affection to the rebels this chapter 
 itself is not without witness. He holds them less in 
 fault than the Scots, as from whom they might allege 
 to have fetched " tlieir imitation ;" making no differ- 
 ence between men that rose necessarily to defend 
 themselves, which no protestant doctrine ever dis- 
 allowed, against them who threatened war, and those 
 who began a voluntary and causeless rebellion, with 
 the massacre of so many thousands, who never meant 
 them harm. 
 
 X 
 
 He falls next to flashes, and a multitude of words, in 
 all which is contained no more than what might be the 
 plea of any guiltiest offender: He was not the author, 
 because " he hath the greatest share of loss and dis- 
 honour by what is committed." Who is there that 
 offends God, or his neighbour, on whom the greatest 
 share of loss and dishonour lights not in the end .'' But 
 in the act of doing evil, men use not to consider the 
 event of these evil doings ; or if they do, have then no 
 power to curb the sway of their own wickedness : sy 
 that the greatest share of loss and dishonour to happen 
 upon themselves, is no argument that they were not 
 guilty. This other is as weak, that " a king's interest, 
 above that of any other man, lies chiefly in the com- 
 mon welfare of his subjects ;" therefore no king will 
 do aught against the common welfare. For by this 
 evasion any tyrant might as well purge himself from 
 the guilt of raising troubles or commotions among the 
 people, because undoubtedly his chief interest lies in 
 their sitting still. 
 
 I said but now, that even this chapter, if nothing 
 else, might suffice to discover his good affection to the 
 rebels, which in this that follows too notoriously ap- 
 pears ; imputing this insurrection to " the preposterous 
 rigour, and unreasonable severity, the covetous zeal 
 and uncharitable fury, of some men ;" (these " some 
 men," by his continual ])araphrase, are me^nt the par- 
 liament ;) and, lastly, " to the fear of utter extirpation." 
 If the whole Irishry of rebels had feed some advocate 
 to speak partially and sophistically in their defence, 
 he could have hardly da/zled better; yet nevertlieless 
 would have proved himself no other than a plausible 
 deceiver. And, perhaps (nay more than perhaps, for 
 it is affirmed and extant under good evidence, that) 
 those feigned terrours and jealousies were either by the 
 king himself, or the popish priests which were sent by 
 him, put into the head of that inquisitive people, on 
 set purpose to engage them. For who had power " to 
 oppress" them, or to relieve them being oj)pressed, but 
 the king, or his immediate deputy .-* This rather should 
 have made them rise against the king, than against 
 the parliament. Who threatened or ever thought of 
 their extirpation, till they themselves had begun it to 
 the English .'' As for " preposterous rigour, covetous 
 zeal, and uncharitable fury," they had more reason to 
 suspect those evils first from his own commands, whom 
 they saw using daily no greater argument to prove the 
 truth of his religion than by enduring no other but his 
 own Prelatical; and, to force it upon others, made 
 episcopal, ceremonial, and common-prayer book wars. 
 But the papists understood him better than by the out- 
 side ; and knew that those wars were their wars. Al- 
 though if the commonwealth should be afraid to sup- 
 press open idolatry, lest the papists thereupon should 
 grow desperate, this were to let them grow and become 
 our persecutors, while we neglected what we might 
 have done evangelically to be their reformers : or to 
 do as his father James did, who instead of taking heart 
 and putting confidence in God by such a deliverance 
 as from the powder-plot, though it went not off, yet 
 with the mere conceit of it, as some observe, was hit 
 
•30« 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASIUKE. 
 
 into such a hectic trembling* between protestant and 
 pa])ist all his life after, that he never durst from that 
 time do otherwise than equirocate or collogue with the 
 pope and his adherents. 
 
 He would be thought to commiserate the sad effects 
 of that rebellion, and to lament that " the tears and 
 blood spilt there did not quench the sparks of our civil" 
 discord here. But who began these dissensions? and 
 what can be more openly known than those retardings 
 and delays, which by himself were continually devised, 
 to hinder and put back the relief of those distressed 
 protestants ? which undoubtedly, had it not been then 
 put back, might have saved many streams of those 
 tears and that blood, whereof he seems here so sadly to 
 bewail the spilling. His manifold excuses, diversions, 
 and delays, are too well known to be recited here in 
 particular, and too many. 
 
 But " he offered to go himself in person upon that 
 expedition," and reckons up many surmises why he 
 thinks they would not suffer him. But mentions not 
 that by his underdealing to debauch aniiies here at 
 home, and by bis secret intercourse with the chief re- 
 bels, long ere that time every where known, he had 
 brought the parliament into so just a diffidence of him, 
 as that they durst not leave the public arms to his dis- 
 posal, much less an army to his conduct. 
 
 He concludes, " That next the sin of those who be- 
 gan that rebellion, theirs must needs be who hindered 
 the suppressing, or diverted the aids." But judgment 
 rashly given, ofttimes involves the judge himself. He 
 finds fault with those " who threatened all extremity 
 to the rebels," and pleads much that mercy should be 
 shewn them. It seems he found himself not so much 
 concerned as those who had lost fathers, brothers, wives, 
 and children by their cruelty; whom in justice to re- 
 taliate is not, as he supposes, " unevangelical ; " so 
 long as magistracy and war are not laid down under 
 the gospel. If this his sermon of affected mercy were 
 not too Pharisaical, how could he permit himself to 
 cause the slaughter of so many thousands here in Eng- 
 land for mere prerogatives, the toys and gewgaws of 
 his crown, for copes and surplices, the trinkets of his 
 priests ; and not perceive his own zeal, while he taxes 
 others, to be most preposterous and unevangelical ? 
 Neither is there the same cause to destroy a whole city 
 for the ravishing of a sister, not done out of villainy, 
 and recompense offered by marriage ; nor the same 
 cause for those disciples to summon fire from heaven 
 upon the whole city where they were denied lodging ; 
 and for a nation by just war and execution to slay 
 whole families of them, who so barbarously had slain 
 whole families before. Did not all Israel do as much 
 against the Benjamitcs for one rape committed by a 
 few, and defended by the whole tribe ? and did they 
 not the same to Jabcsh-Gilead for not assisting them 
 in that revenge ? I speak not this that such measure 
 should be meted rigorously to all the Irish, or as re- 
 membering that the parliament ever so decreed ; but 
 to shew that this his homily hath more craft and affec- 
 tation in it, than of sound doctrine. 
 
 * I'lie second edition has itiiivering. 
 
 But it was happy that his going into Ireland was 
 not consented to; for either he had certainly turned 
 his raised forces against the jiarliament itself, or not 
 gone at all ; or had he gone, what work he would have 
 made there, his own following words declare. 
 
 " He would have punished some ;" no question ; for 
 some, perhaps, who were of least use, must of necessity 
 have been sacrificed to his reputation, and the conve- 
 nience of his affairs. Others he " would have disarm- 
 ed ;" that is to say, in his own time : but " all of them 
 he would have protected from the fury of those that 
 would have drowned them, if they had refused to swim 
 down the popular stream." These expressions are too 
 often met, and too well understood, for any man to 
 doubt his meaning. By the " fury of those," he means 
 no other than the justice of parliament, to whom vff 
 he had committed the whole business. Those who 
 would have refused to swim down the popular stream, 
 our constant key tells us to be papists, jjrelates, and 
 their faction ; these, by his own confession here, he 
 would have protected against his puritan parliament : 
 and by this who sees not that he and the Irish rebels 
 had but one aim, one and the same drift, and would 
 have forthwith joined in one body against us ? 
 
 He goes on still in his tenderness of the Irish rebels, 
 fearing lest " our zeal should be more greedy to kill 
 the bear for his skin, than for any harm he hath done." 
 This either justifies the rebels to have done no harm at 
 all, or infers his opinion that the parliament is more 
 bloody and rapacious in the prosecution of their justice, 
 than those rebels were in the execution of their barba- 
 rous cruelty. Let men doubt now and dispute to whom 
 the king was a friend most — to his English parliament, 
 or to his Irish rebels. 
 
 With whom, that we may yet see further how much 
 he was their friend, after that the parliament had 
 brought them every where either to famine or a low- 
 condition, he, to give them all the respite and advan- 
 tages they could desire, without advice of parliament, 
 to whom he himself had committed the managing of 
 that war, makes a cessation ; in pretence to relieve the 
 protestants, " overborne there with numbers ;" but, as 
 the event proved, to support the papists, by diverting 
 and drawing over the English army there, to his own 
 service here against the parliament. For that the pro- 
 testants were then on the winning hand, it must needs 
 be plain; who, notwithstanding the miss of those forces, 
 which at their landing here mastered without difficulty 
 great part of Wales and Cheshire, yet made a shift to 
 keep their own in Ireland. But the plot of this Irish 
 truce is in good part discovered in that declaration of 
 September 30, 1643. And if the protestants were but 
 handfuls there, as he calls them, why did he stop and 
 waylay, both by land and sea, to his utmost power, 
 those provisions and supplies which were sent by the 
 parliament ? How were so many handfuls called over, 
 as for a while stood him in no small stead, and against 
 our main forces here in England ? 
 
 Since therefore all the reasons that can be given of 
 this cessation appear so false and frivolous, it may be 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 309 
 
 justly feared, that the design itself was most wicked 
 and pernicious. What remains then ? He " appeals 
 to God," and is cast; likening his punishment to Job's 
 trials, before he saw them to have Job's ending. But 
 how could charity herself believe there was at all in 
 him any religion, so much as but to fear there is a 
 God ; whenas, by what is noted in the declaration of 
 <' no more addresses," he vowed solemnly to the par- 
 liament, with imprecations upon himself and his pos- 
 terity, if ever he consented to the abolishing of those 
 laws which were in force against papists ; and, at the 
 same time, as appeared plainly by the very date of his 
 own letters to the queen and Ormond, consented to the 
 abolishing of all penal laws against them both in Ire- 
 land and England ? If these were acts of a religious 
 prince, what memory of man, written or unwritten, can 
 tell us news of any prince that ever was irreligious .'' 
 He cannot stand " to make prolix apologies." Then 
 surely those long pamphlets set out for declarations 
 and protestations in his name were none of his ; and 
 how they should be his, indeed, being so repugnant to 
 the whole course of his actions, augments the difficulty. 
 
 But he usurps a common saying, " That it is kingly 
 to do well, and hear ill." That may be sometimes true : 
 but far more frequently to do ill and hear well ; so great 
 is the multitude of flatterers, and them that deify the 
 name of king ! 
 
 Yet, not content with these neighbours, we have him 
 still a perpetual preacher of his own virtues, and of 
 that especially, which who knows not to be patience 
 perforce ? 
 
 He " believes it will at last appear, that they who 
 first began to embroil his other kingdoms, are also 
 guilty of the blood of Ireland." And we believe so 
 too ; for now the cessation is become a peace by pub- 
 lished articles, and commission to bring them over 
 against England, first only ten thousand by the earl 
 of Glamorgan,* next all of them, if possible, under 
 Ormcmd, which was the last of all his transactions done 
 as a public person. And no wonder; for he looked 
 upon the blood spilt, whether of subjects or of rebels, 
 with an indifierent eye, " as exhausted out of his own 
 veins ;" without distinguishing, as he ought, which 
 was good blood and which corrupt; the not letting out 
 whereof, endangers the whole body. 
 
 And what the doctrine is, ye may perceive also by 
 the prayer, which, after a short ejaculation for the 
 " poor protestants," prays at large for the Irish rebels, 
 that God would not give them over, or "their children, 
 to the covetousness, cruelty, fierce and cursed anger" 
 of the parliament. 
 
 He finishes with a deliberate and solemn curse " upon 
 himself and his father's house." Which how far God 
 hath already brought to pass, is to the end, that men, 
 by so eminent an example, should learn to tremble at 
 his judgments, and not play with imprecations. 
 
 • S«e this fully proved in Dr. Birch's Enquiry into the share which King 
 
 XIII. Upon the calling in of the Scotiy and their 
 cominff. 
 
 It must needs seem strange, where men accustom 
 themselves to ponder and contemplate things in their 
 first original and institution, that kings, who as all 
 other officers of the public, were at first chosen and 
 installed only by consent and suffrage of the people, 
 to govern them as freemen by laws of their own 
 making, and to be, in consideration of that dignity 
 and riches bestowed upon them, the entrusted servants 
 of the commonwealth, should, notwithstanding, grow 
 up to that dishonest encroachment, a& to esteem them- 
 selves masters, both of that great trust which they 
 serve, and of the people that betrusted them ; counting 
 what they ought to do, both in discharge of their pub- 
 lic duty, and for the great reward of honour and reve- 
 nue which they receive, as done all of mere grace and 
 favour ; as if their power over us were by nature, and 
 from themselves, or that God bad sold us into their 
 hands. Indeed, if the race of kings were eminently 
 the best of men, as the breed at Tutbury is of horses, 
 it would in reason then be their part only to com- 
 mand, ours always to obey. But kings by generation 
 no way excelling others, and most commonly not 
 being the wisest or the worthiest by far of whom thoy 
 claim to have the governing ; that we should yield them 
 subjection to our own ruin, or hold of them the right 
 of our common safety, and our natural freedom by mere 
 gift, (as when the conduit pisses wine at coronations,) 
 from the superfluity of their royal grace and beneficence, 
 we may be sure was never the intent of God, whose 
 ways are just and equal ; never the intent of nature, 
 whose works arc also regular ; never of any people not 
 wholly barbarous, whom prudence, or no more but 
 human sense, would have better guided when they 
 first created kings, than so to nullify and tread to dirt 
 the rest of mankind, by exalting one person and his 
 lineage without other merit looked after, but the mere 
 contingency of a begetting, into an absolute and un- 
 accountable dominion over them and their posterity. 
 Yet this ignorant or wilful mistake of the whole matter 
 had taken so deep root in the imagination of this king, 
 that whether to the English or to the Scot, mentioning 
 what acts of his regal office (though God knows how 
 unwillingly) he had passed, he calls them, as in other 
 places, acts of grace and bounty; so here "special ob- 
 ligations, favours, to gratify active spirits, and the de- 
 sires of that party." Words not only sounding pride 
 and lordly usurpation, but injustice, partiality, and 
 corruption. For to the Irish he so far condescended, 
 as first to tolerate in private, then to covenant openly 
 the tolerating of popery : so far to the Scot, as to re- 
 move bishops, establish presbytery, and the militia in 
 their own hands ; " preferring, as some thought, the de- 
 sires of Scotland before his own interest and honour." 
 But being once on this side Tweed, his reason, his con- 
 science, and his honour became so frightened with a 
 kind of false virginity, that to the English neither one 
 
 Charles I. had in the transactions of the earl of Glumorpan, 2d edit. 1756. 
 
710 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 nor other of the same dciuaiids could be granted, wliere- 
 with the Scots were g-ratified ; as if our air and climate 
 on a sudden had changed the property and the nature 
 both of conscience, honour, and reason, or that he found 
 none so fit as English to be the subjects of his arbitrary 
 power. Ireland was as Ephraiin, the strength of his 
 head ; Scotland as Judah, was his lawgiver; but over 
 England, as over Edoni, he meant to cast his shoe : 
 and yet so many sober Englishmen, not sufficiently 
 awake to consider this, like men enchanted with the 
 Circsean cup of servitude, will not be held back 
 from running their own heads into the yoke of bond- 
 age. 
 
 The sum of his discourse is against " settling of re- 
 ligion by violent means ;" which, whether it were the 
 Scots* design upon England, they are best able to clear 
 themselves. But this of all may seem strangest, that 
 the king, who, while it was permitted him, never did 
 thing more eagerly tiian to molest and persecute 
 the consciences of most religious men ; he who had 
 made a war, and lost all, rather than not uphold a hier- 
 archy of persecuting bishops, should have the confidence 
 here to profess himself so much an enemy of those that 
 force the conscience. For was it not he, who upon the 
 English obtruded new ceremonies, upon the Scots a 
 new Liturgy, and with his sword went about to en- 
 grave * a bloody Rubric on their backs ? Did he not 
 forbid and hinder all effectual search of truth ; nay, 
 like a besieging enemy, stopped all her passages both 
 by word and writing ? Yet here can talk of" fair and 
 equal disputations :" where, notwithstanding, if all 
 submit not to his judgment, as not being " rationally 
 convicted," they must submit (and he conceals it not) 
 to his penalty, as counted obstinate. But what if he 
 himself, and those his learned churchmen, were the 
 convicted or the obstinate part long ago ; should re- 
 formation suffer them to sit lording over the church in 
 their fat bishoprics and pluralities, like the great whore 
 that sitteth upon many waters, till they would vouch- 
 safe to be disputed out ? Or should we sit disputing, 
 while they sat plotting and persecuting.'' Those clergy- 
 men were not " to be driven into the fold like sheep," 
 as his simile runs, but to be driven out of the fold like 
 wolves or thieves, where they sat fleecing those flocks 
 which they never fed. 
 
 He believes " that presbytery, though proved to be 
 the only institution of Jesus Christ, were not by the 
 sword to be set up without his consent ;" which is con- 
 trary both to the doctrine and the known practice of 
 all protestant churches, if his sword threaten those who 
 of their own accord embrace it. 
 
 And although Christ and his apostles, being to civil 
 affairs but private men, contended not with magistrates ; 
 yet %vhen magistrates themselves, and especially par- 
 liaments, who have greatest right to dispose of the civil 
 sword, come to know religion, they ought in conscience 
 to defend all those who receive it willingly, against 
 the violence of any king or tyrant whatsoever. Neither 
 is it therefore true, " that Christianity is planted or 
 vratered with christian blood ;" for there is a large dif- 
 
 * Tbe fcrood editioo hu score. 
 
 ference betwecu forcing men by the sword to turn 
 prcsbyterians, and defending those who willingly are 
 so, from a furious inroad of bloody bishops, armed with 
 the militia of a king their pupil. And if " covetous- 
 ness and ambition be an argument that presbytery 
 hath not much of Christ," it argues more strongly 
 against episcopacy ; which, from the time of her first 
 mounting to an order above the presbyters, had no 
 other parents than covetousness and ambition. And 
 those sects, scliisms, and heresies, which he speaks of, 
 " if they get but strength and numbers," need no other 
 pattern than episcopacy and himself, to "set up tlicir 
 ways by the like method of violence." Nor is there 
 any thing that hath more marks of schism and sccta- 
 rism than English ej)iscopacy ; whether we look at 
 apostolic times, or at reformed churches ; for " the uni- 
 versal way of church-government before," may as soon 
 lead us into gross errour, as their universally corrupted 
 doctrine. And government, by reason of ambition, was 
 likeliest to be corrupted much the sooner of the two. 
 However, nothing can be to us catholic or universal in 
 religion, but what the Scripture teaches; whatsoever 
 without Scripture pleads to be universal in the churcli, 
 in being universal is but the more schismatical. Much 
 less can particular laws and constitutions impart to tlic 
 church of England any power of consistory or tribunal 
 above other churches, to be the sole judge of what is 
 sect or schism, as with much rigour, and without Scrip- 
 ture, they took upon them. Yet these the king resolves 
 here to defend and maintain to his last, pretending, 
 after all those conferences oflTered, or had with Iiim, 
 "not to see more rational and religious motives than 
 soldiers cairy in their knapsacks." With one thus re- 
 solved, it was but folly to stand disputing. 
 
 He imagines his " own judicious zeal to be most con- 
 cerned in his tuition of the church." So thought Saul 
 when he presumed to offer sacrifice, for which he lost 
 his kingdom ; so thought Uzziah when he went into 
 the temple, but was thrust out with a leprosy for his 
 opinioned zeal, which he thought judicious. It is not 
 the part of a king, because he ought to defend the 
 church, therefore to set himself supreme head over the 
 church, or to meddle with ecclesial government, or to 
 defend the church, otherwise than the church would be 
 defended ; for such defence is bondage : nor to defend 
 abuses, and stop all reformation, under the name of 
 " new moulds fancied and fashioned to private designs." 
 The holy things of church are in the power of other 
 keys than were delivered to his keeping. Christian 
 liberty, purchased with the death of our Redeemer, and 
 established by the sending of his free spirit to inhabit 
 in us, is not now to depend upon the doubtful consent 
 of any earthly monarch ; nor to be again fettered with 
 a presumptuous negative voice, tyrannical to the par- 
 liament, but much more tyrannical to the church of 
 God ; which was compelled to implore the aid of par- 
 liament, to remove his force and heavy hands from off 
 our consciences, who therefore complains now of that 
 most just defensive force, because only it removed his 
 violence and persecution. If this be a violation to his 
 
AN ANSWER TO EJKON BASILIKE. 
 
 311 
 
 conscience, that it was hindered by the parliament from 
 violating' the more tender consciences of so many thou- 
 sand good Christians, let the usurping^ conscience of 
 all tyrants be ever so violated ! 
 
 He wonders, fox wonder ! how we could so much 
 "distrust God's assistance," as to call in the protestant 
 aid of our brethren in Scotland ; why then did he, if 
 his trust were in God and the justice of his cause, not 
 scruple to solicit and invite earnestly the assistance 
 both of papists and of Irish rebels? If the Scots were 
 by us at length sent home, they were not called to stay 
 i here always ; neither was it for the people's ease to 
 feed so many legions longer than their help was need- 
 ful. 
 
 " The government of their kirk we despised" not, 
 but their imposing of that government upon us ; not 
 presbytery, but arch presbytery, classical, provincial, 
 and diocesan presbytery, claiming to itself a lordly 
 power and superintendency both over flocks and pas- 
 tors, over persons and congregations no way their own. 
 But these debates, in his judgment, would have been 
 ended better " by the best divines in Christendom in a 
 full and free s3'nod." A most improbable way, and 
 such as never yet was used, at least with good success, 
 by any protestant kingdom or state since the reforma- 
 tion : every true church having wherewithal from 
 Heaven, and the assisting spirit of Christ implored, to 
 be complete and perfect within itself. And the whole 
 nation is not easily to be thought so raw, and so per- 
 jtetually a novice, after all this light, as to need the 
 help and direction of other nations, more than what 
 they write in public of their opinion, in a matter so fa- 
 miliar as church-government. 
 
 In fine, he accuses pietj' with the want of loyalty, 
 and religion with the breach of allegiance, as if God 
 and he were one master, whose commands were so 
 often contrary to the commands of God. He would 
 pereuadc the Scots, that their " chief interest consists in 
 their fidelity to the crown." But true policy will teach 
 them, to find a safer interest in the common friendship 
 of England, than in the ruins of one ejected family. 
 
 XIV. Upon the Covenant. 
 
 Upon this theme his discourse is long, his matter 
 little but repetition, and therefore soon answered. 
 First, after an abusive and strange apprehension of 
 covenants, as if men "pawned their souls" to them 
 with whom they covenant, he digresses to plead for 
 bishops ; first from the antiquity of their " possession 
 here, since the first plantation of Christianity in this 
 island ;" next from " a universal prescription since the 
 apostles, till this last century." But what avails the 
 most primitive antiquity against the plain sense of 
 Scripture? which, if the last century have best fol- 
 lowed, it ought in our esteem to be the first. And yet 
 it hath been often proved by learned men, from the 
 writings and epistles of most ancient Christians, that 
 episcopacy crept not up into an order above the pres- 
 
 byters, till many years after that the apostles were 
 deceased. 
 
 He next "is unsatisfied with the covenant," not only 
 for " some passages in it referring to himself," as he 
 supposes, " with very dubious and dangerous limita- 
 tions," but for binding men "by oath and covenant" 
 to the reformation of church-discipline. First, those 
 limitations were not more dangerous to him, than he to 
 our liberty and religion ; next, that which was there 
 vowed, to cast out of the church an antichristian hier- 
 archy which God liad not planted, but ambition and 
 corruption had brought in, and fostered to the church's 
 great damage and oppression, was no point of contro- 
 versy to be argued without end, but a tiling of cleaj- 
 moral necessity to be forthwith done. Neither was 
 the " covenant superfluous, though former engage- 
 ments, both religious and legal, bound us before ; " 
 but was the practice of all churches heretofore intend- 
 ing reformation. All Israel, though bound enough 
 before by the law of Moses " to all necessary duties ;" 
 yet with Asa their king entered into a new covenant 
 at the beginning of a reformation : and the Jews, after 
 captivity, without consent demanded of that king who 
 was their master, took solemn oath to walk in the com- 
 mandments of God. All protestant churches have 
 done the like, notwithstanding former engagements to 
 their several duties. And although his aim were to 
 sow variance between the jirotestation and the cove- 
 nant, to reconcile them is not difficult. The protesta- 
 tion was but one step, extending only to the doctrine 
 of the church of England, as it was distinct from church 
 discipline ; the covenant went further, as it pleased 
 Go<l to dispense his light and our encouragement by 
 degrees, and comprehended church-government: For- 
 mer with latter steps, in the progress of well-doing, 
 need not reconcilement. Nevertlieless he breaks 
 through to his conclusion, " that all honest and wise 
 men ever thought thentselves sufficiently bound by 
 former ties of reli;4ion ;" leaving Asa, Ezra, and tlie 
 whole church of God, in sundry ages, to shift for ho- 
 nesty and wisdom from some other than his testimony. 
 And although after-contracts absolve not till the former 
 be made void, yet he first having done that, our duty 
 returns back, wliich to him was neither moral nor 
 eternal, but conditional. 
 
 Willing to persuade himself that many "good men" 
 took the covenant, either unwarily or out of fear, he 
 seems to have bestowed some thoughts how these 
 " good men," following his advice, may keep the cove- 
 nant and not keep it. The first evasion is, presuming 
 " that the chief end of covenanting in such men's in- 
 tentions was to preserve religion in purity, and the 
 kingdom's peace." But the covenant will more truly 
 inform them, that purity of religion and the kingdom's 
 peace was not then in state to be preserved, but to be 
 restored ; and therefore binds them not to a preserva- 
 tion of what was, but to a reformation of what was 
 evil, what was traditional, and dangerous, whether no- 
 velty or antiquity, in church or state. To do this, 
 clashes with " no former oath " lawfully sworn eiUier 
 to God or the king, and rightly undci"stood. 
 
312 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASIUKE. 
 
 Ill general, lie brands all " such confederations by 
 league and covenant, as the common road used in all 
 factious perturbations of state and church." This kind 
 of language reflects, with the same ignominy, upon all 
 the protestant reformations that have been since Lu- 
 ther; and so indeed doth his whole book, replenished 
 throughout with hardly other words or arguments than 
 papists, and especially popish kings, have used hereto- 
 fore against their protestant subjects, whom he would 
 persuade to be " every man his own pope, and to absolve 
 himself of those tics," by the suggestion of false or equi- 
 vocal interpretations too oft repeated to be now answered. 
 
 The parliament, hesaith," made their covenant, like 
 manna, agreeable to every man's palate." This is an- 
 other of his glosses upon the covenant; he is content 
 to lot it be manna, but his drift is that men should 
 loath it or at least expound it by their own " relish," 
 and "latitude of sense;" wherein, lest any one of the 
 simpler sort should fail to be his craftsmaster, he fur- 
 nishes him with two or three laxative, he terms them 
 ♦* general clauses, which may serve somewhat to re- 
 lieve them" against the covenant taken : intimating, 
 as if" what were lawful and according to the word of 
 God," were no otherwise so, than as every man fancied 
 lo himself. From such learned explications and re- 
 solutions as these upon the covenant, what marvel if 
 no royalist or malignant refuse to take it, as having 
 learnt from these princely instructions his many " sal- 
 voes, cautions, and reservations," how to be a cove- 
 nanter and anticovenanter, how at once to be a Scot, 
 and an Irish rebel. 
 
 He returns again to disallow of " that reformation 
 which the covenant" vows, "as being the partial ad- 
 vice of a few divines." But matters of this moment, 
 as they were not to be decided there by those divines, 
 so neither are they to be determined here by essays and 
 curtal aphorisms, but by solid proofs of Scripture. 
 
 The rest of his discourse he spends, highly accusing 
 the parliament, " that the main reformation by " them 
 "intended, was to rob the church," and much applaud- 
 ing himself both for " his forwardness" to all due re- 
 formation, and his averseness from all such kind of sa- 
 crilege. All which, with his glorious title of the 
 "Church's Defender," we leave him to make good by 
 " Pharaoh's divinity," if he please, for to Joseph's piety 
 it will be a task unsuitable. As for " the parity and 
 poverty of ministers," which he takes to be so sad of 
 " consequence," the Scripture reckons them for two 
 special legacies left by our Saviour to his disciples ; 
 under which two primitive nurses, for such they were 
 indeed, the church of God more truly flourished than 
 ever after, since the time that imparity and church re- 
 venue rushing in, corrupted and belepered all the clergy 
 with a worse infection than Gehazi's ; some one of 
 whose tribe, rather than a king, I should take to be 
 compiler of that unsalted and Simonical prayer an- 
 nexed : although the prayer itself strongly prays 
 against them. For never such holy things as he means 
 were given more to swine, nor the church's bread more 
 to dogs, than when it fed ambitious, irreligious, and 
 dumb prelates. 
 
 XV. Upon the many Jealousies, ^c. 
 
 To wipe ofl^ jealousies and scandals, the best way 
 had been by clear actions, or till actions could be cleared, 
 by evident reasons ; but mere words we are too well 
 acquainted with. Had "his honour and reputation 
 been dearer to him" than the lust of reigning, how 
 could the parliament of either nation have laid so often 
 at his door the breach of words, promises, acts, oaths, 
 and execrations, as they do avowedly in many oi their 
 petitions and addresses to him ? Thither I remit the 
 reader. And who can believe that whole parliaments, 
 elected by the people from all parts of the land, should 
 meet in one mind and resolution not to advise him, but 
 to conspire against him, in a worse powder-plot than 
 Catesbie's, " to blow up," as he terms it, " the peo])le's 
 aflTection towards him, and batter down their loyalty 
 by the engines of foul aspersions :" Water-works ra- 
 ther than engines to batter with, yet those aspersions 
 were raised from the foulness of his own actions: 
 whereof to purge himself, he uses no other argument 
 than a general and so often iterated commendation of 
 himself; and thinks that court holy-water hath the 
 virtue of expiation, at least with the silly people; to 
 whom he familiarly imputes sin where none is, to 
 seem liberal of his forgiveness where none is asked or 
 needed. 
 
 What ways he hath taken toward the prosperity of 
 his people, which he would seem " so earnestly to de- 
 sire," if we do but once call to mind, it will be enough 
 to teach us, looking on the smooth insinuations here, 
 that tyrants are not more flattered by their slaves, than 
 forced to flatter others whom they fear. 
 
 For the people's " tranquillity he would willingly be 
 the Jonah ;" but lest he should be taken at his word, 
 pretends to foresee within ken two imaginary " winds" 
 never heard of in the compass, which threaten, if he 
 be cast overboard, "to increase the storm;" but that 
 controversy divine lot hath ended. 
 
 " He had rather not rule, than that his people should 
 be ruined :" and yet, above these twenty years, hath 
 been mining the people about the niceties of his rul- 
 ing. He is accurate " to put a difference between the 
 plague of malice and the ague of mistakes; the itch of 
 novelty, and the leprosy of disloyalty." But had he 
 as well known how to distinguish between the vener- 
 able gray hairs of ancient religion and the old scurf 
 of superstition, between the wholesome heat of well 
 governing and the feverous rage of tyrannizing, his 
 judgment in state physic had been of more authority. 
 
 Much he prophesies, " that the credit of those men, 
 who have cast black scandals on him, shall ere long 
 be quite blasted by the same furnace of popular oblo- 
 quy, wherein they sought to cast his name and honour." 
 I believe not that a Romish gilded portraiture gives 
 better oracle than a Babylonish golden image could 
 do, to tell us truly who heated that funiace of obloquy^ 
 or who deserves to be thrown in, Nebuchadnezzar or 
 the three kingdoms. It " gave him great cause to 
 suspect his own innocence," that he was opposed by 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 313 
 
 " so many who professed singular piety." But this 
 qualm was soon over, and he concluded rather to sus- 
 pect their religion than his own innocence, affirming 
 that " many with him were both learned and religious 
 above the ordinary size." But if his great seal, with- 
 out the parliament, were not sufficient to create lords, 
 his parole must needs be far more unable to create 
 learned and religious men ; and who shall authorize 
 his unlearned judgment to point them out? 
 
 He guesses that " many well-minded men were by 
 popular preachers urged to oppose him." But the op- 
 position undoubtedly proceeded and continues from 
 heads far wiser, and spirits of a nobler strain ; those 
 priest-led Herodians, with their blind guides, are in 
 the ditch already ; travelling, as they thought, to Sion, 
 but moored in the Isle of Wight- 
 He thanks God " for his constancy to the protestant 
 religion both abroad and at home." Abroad, his letter 
 to the pope; at home, his innovations in the church, 
 will speak his constancy in religion what it was, with- 
 out further credit to this vain boast. 
 
 His " using the assistance of some papists," as the 
 cause might be, could not hurt his religion ; but, in the 
 settling of protestanism, their aid was both unseemly 
 and suspicious, and inferred that the greatest part of 
 protestants were against him and his obtruded settle- 
 ment. 
 
 But this is strange indeed, that be should appear 
 now teaching the parliament what no man, till this 
 was read, thought ever he had learned, " that difference 
 of persuasion in religious matters may fall out where 
 there is the sameness of allegiance rnd subjection." If 
 he thought so from the beginning, wherefore was there 
 such compulsion used to the puritans of England, and 
 the whole realm of Scotland, about conforming to a 
 liturgy ? Wherefore no bishop, no king ? Wherefore 
 episcopacy more agreeable to monarchy, if different 
 persuasions in religion may agree in one duty and al- 
 legiance ? Thus do court maxims, like court minions, 
 rise or fall as the king pleases. 
 
 Not to tax him for want of elegance as a courtier, in 
 writing Oglio for 011a the Spanish word, it might be 
 well affirmed, that there was a greater medley and dis- 
 proportioning of religions, to mix papists with protest- 
 ants in a religious cause, than to entertain all those 
 diversified sects, who vet were all protestants, one re- 
 ligion though many opinions. 
 
 Neither was it any " shame to protestants," that he, 
 a declared papist, if his own letter to the pope, not yet 
 renounced, belie him not, found so few protestants of 
 his religion, as enforced him to call in both the counsel 
 and the aid of papists to help establish protestancy, 
 who were led on, not " by the sense of their allegi- 
 ance," but by the hope of his apostacy to Rome, from 
 disputing to warring ; his own voluntary and first 
 appeal. 
 
 His hearkening to evil counsellors, charged upon 
 him so often by the parliament, he puts off as " a de- 
 vice of those men, who were so eager to give him better 
 counsel." That " those men" were the parliament, and 
 that he ought to have used the counsel of none but 
 
 those, as a king, is already known. What their civility 
 laid upon evil counsellors, he himself most commonly 
 owned ; but the event of those evil counsels, " the enor- 
 mities, the confusions, the miseries," he transfers from 
 the guilt of his own civil broils to the just resistance 
 made by parliament; and imputes what miscarriages 
 of his they could not yet remove for his opposing, as 
 if they were some new misdemeanours of their bring- 
 ing in, and not the inveterate diseases of his own bad 
 government ; which, with a disease as bad, he falls 
 again to magnify and commend : and may all those 
 who would be governed by his " retractions and con- 
 cessions," rather than by laws of parliament, admire 
 his self-encomiums, and be flattered with that "crown 
 of patience," to which he cunningly exhorted them, 
 that his monarchical foot might have the setting it upon 
 their heads ! 
 
 That trust which the parliament faithfully discharged 
 in the asserting of our liberties, he calls "another arti- 
 fice to withdraw the people from him to their designs." 
 What piece of justice could they have demanded for 
 the people, which the jealousy of a king might not 
 have miscalled a design to disparage his government, 
 and to ingratiate themselves .!* To be more just, reli- 
 gious, wise, or magnanimous than the common sort, 
 stirs up in a tyrant both fear and envy ; and straight 
 he cries out popularity, which, in his account, is little 
 less than treason. The sum is, they thought to limit 
 or take away the rcniora of his negative voice, which, 
 like to that little pest at sea, took upon it to arrest and 
 stop the commonwealth steering under full sail to a 
 reformation : they thought to share with him in the 
 militia, both or either of which he could not possibly hold 
 without consent of the people, and not be absolutely a 
 tyrant. He professes " to desire no other liberty than 
 what he envies not his subjects according to law;" 
 yet fought with might and main against his subjects, 
 to have a sole power over them in his hand, both 
 against and beyond law. As for the philosophical 
 liberty which in vain he talks of, we may conclude 
 him very ill trained up in those free notions, who to 
 civil liberty was so injurious. 
 
 He calls the conscience " God's sovereignty ;" why, 
 then, dotli he contest with God about that supreme 
 title ? why did he lay restraints, and force enlarge- 
 ments, upon our consciences in things for which we 
 were to answer God only and the church .'* God bids 
 us " be subject for conscience sake ;" that is, as to a 
 magistrate, and in the laws ; not usurping over spi- 
 ritual things, as Lucifer beyond his sphere. And the 
 same precept bids him likewise, for conscience sake, 
 be subject to the parliament, both his natural and his 
 legal superiour. 
 
 Finally, having laid the fault of these commotions 
 not upon his own misgovernment, but upon the " am- 
 bition of others, the necessity of some men's fortune, 
 and thirst after novelty," he bodes himself " much 
 honour and reputation, that, like the sun, shall rise 
 and recover himself to such a splendour, as owls, bats, 
 and such fatal birds shall be unable to bear." Poets, 
 indeed, used to vapour much after this manner. But 
 
3^ 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 to ba«I kiiijjs, wlio, without cause, expect future glory 
 from tlieir actions, it happens, as to bad poets, wlio sit 
 and starve themselves with a delusive hope to win im- 
 mortality by their bad lines. For though men ought 
 not to " speak evil of dignities" which are just, yet 
 nothing hinders us to speak evil, as often as it is the 
 truth, of those who in their dignities do evil. Thus did 
 our Saviour himself, John the Baptist, and Stephen the 
 Martyr. And those black veils of his own misdeeds he 
 might be sure would ever keep " his face from shining," 
 till he could " refute evil speaking with well doing," 
 which grace he seems here to pray for; and his prayer 
 doubtless as it was prayed, so it was heard. But even 
 his prayer is so ambitious of prerogative, that it dares 
 ask away the prerogative of Christ himself, " To be- 
 come the headstone of the corner." 
 
 XVI. Upon the Ordinance against the Common-Pr ayer 
 
 Book. 
 
 What to think of liturgies, both the sense of Scrip- 
 ture, and apostolical practice, would have taught him 
 better, than his human reasonings and conjectures : 
 nevertheless, what weight they have, let us consider. 
 If it " be no news to have all innovations ushered in 
 with the name of reformation," sure it is less news to 
 have all reformation censured and opposed under the 
 name of innovation, by those who, being exalted in 
 high place above their merit, fear all change, though 
 of things never so ill or so unwisely settled. So hardly 
 can the dotage of those tliat dwell upon antiquity allow 
 present times any share of godliness or wisdom. 
 
 The removing of liturgy he traduces to be done only 
 as a " thing plausible to the people;" whose rejection 
 of it he likens, with small reverence, to the crucifying of 
 our Saviour; next, that it was done " to please those 
 men who gloried in their extemporary vein," meaning 
 the ministers. For whom it will be best to answer, 
 as was answered for the man born blind, " They are 
 of age, let them speak for themselves ;" not how they 
 came blind, but whether it were liturgy that held them 
 tongue-tied, 
 
 " For the matter contained in that book," we need 
 no better witness than King Edward the Sixth, who to 
 the Cornish rebels confesses it was no other than the 
 old mass-book done into English, all but some few 
 words that were expunged. And by this argument, 
 which King Edward so promptly had to use against 
 that irreligious rabble, we may be assured it was the 
 carnal fear of those divines and politicians tliat modelled 
 the liturgy no farther off from the old mass, lest by too 
 great an alteration they should incense the people, and 
 be destitute of the same shifts to fly to, which they had 
 taught the 3'oung king. 
 
 " For the manner of using set forms, there is no 
 doubt but that, wholesome" matter and good desires 
 rightly conceived in the heart, wholesome words will 
 
 • The proinitc of tb« Spirit's as^Unce, here alluded to, was extraordi- 
 
 follow of themselves. Neither can any true Christian 
 find a reason why liturgy should be at all admitted, a 
 prescription not imposed or practised by those first 
 founders of the church, who alone had that authority : 
 without whose precept or example, how constantly the 
 priest puts on his gown and surplice, so constantly 
 doth his prayer put on a servile yoke of liturgy. This 
 is evident, that they " who use no set forms of prayer," 
 have words from their affections ; while others are to 
 seek affections fit and proportionable to a certain dose 
 of prepared words ; which as they are not rigorously 
 forbid to any man's private infirmity, so to imprisoi 
 and confine by force, into a pinfold of set words, thos4 
 two most unimprisonable things, our prayers, and thai 
 divine spirit of utterance that moves them, is a tyranny 
 that would have longer hands than those giants wIk 
 threatened bondage to heaven. What we may do in 
 the same form of words is not so much the question, ai 
 whether liturgy may be forced as he forced it. It is 
 true that we " pray to the same God ;" must we, there- 
 fore, always use the same words.'* Let us then use but 
 one word, because we pray to one God. " We profess 
 the same truths," but the liturgy comprehends not all 
 truths : " we read the same Scriptures," but never read 
 that all those sacred expressions, all benefit and use of 
 Scripture, as to public prayer, should be denied us, ex- 
 cept what was barrelled up in a common-prayer book 
 with many mixtures of their own, and, which is worse, 
 without salt. But suppose them savory words and un- 
 mixed, suppose them manna itself, yet, if they shall be 
 hoarded up and enjoined us, while God every morning; 
 rains down new expressions into our hearts; instead of 
 being fit to use, they will be found, like reserved manna, 
 rather to breed worms and stink. " We have the same 
 duties upon us, and feel the same wants;" yet not al- 
 ways the same, nor at all times alike ; but with varietj 
 of circumstances, which ask variety of words : wberert 
 God hath given us plenty ; not to use so copiouslj 
 upon all other occasions, and so niggardly to bin 
 alone in our devotions. As if Christians were now ii 
 a worse famine of words fit for prayer, than was of 
 food at the siege of Jerusalem, when perhaps the priest 
 being to remove the shewbread, as was accustomed, 
 were compelled every sabbath day, for want of othel 
 loaves, to bring again still the same. If the " Lord'l 
 Prayer" had been the " warrant or the pattern of set 
 liturgies," as is here affirmed, why was neither thai 
 prayer, nor any other set form, ever after used, or so 
 much as mentioned by the apostles, much less com« 
 mended to our use .'* Why was their care wanting in 1 
 thing so useful to the church ? so full of danger an^ 
 contention to be left undone by them to otlier men'l 
 penning, of whose authority we could not be so cer 
 tain ? Why was this forgotten by them, who declar 
 that they have revealed to us the whole counsel oj 
 God ? who, as he left our affections to be guided bj 
 his sanctifying spirit, so did he likewise our words U, 
 be put into us without our premeditation;* not only 
 those cautious words to be used before gentiles and ty- 
 
 nary, and hrlonitcd only to (he first age ; so that the author's argument is 
 in this pait inconclusive. 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 315 
 
 rants, but much more those filial words, of which we 
 have so frequent use in our access with freedom of 
 speech to the throne of grace. Which to lay aside for 
 other outward dictates of men, were to injure him and 
 his perfect gift, who is the spirit, and the giver of our 
 ability to pray ; as if his ministration were incomplete, 
 and that to whom he gave affections, he did not also 
 afford utterance to make his gift of prayer a perfect 
 gift ; to them especially, whose office in the church is 
 to pray publicly. 
 
 And although the gift were only natural, yet volun- 
 tary prayers are less subject to formal and superficial 
 tempers than set forms : for in those, at least for words 
 and matter, he who prays must consult first with his 
 heart, which in likelihood may stir up his affections; 
 in these, having both words and matter ready made to 
 his lips, which is enough to make up the outward act 
 of ])rayer, his affections grow lazy, and come not up 
 easily at the call of words not their own; the prayer 
 also having less intercourse and sympathy with a heart 
 wherein it was not conceived, saves itself the labour of 
 so long a journey downward, and flying up in haste 
 on the specious wings of formality, if it fall not back 
 again headlong, instead of a prayer which was expected, 
 presents God with a set of stale and empty words. 
 
 No doubt but " ostentation and formality" may taint 
 the best duties ; we are not therefore to leave duties for 
 no duties, and to turn prayer into a kind of lurry. 
 Cannot unpremeditated babblings be rebuked and re- 
 strained in whom we find they are, but the Spirit of 
 God must be forbidden in all men ? But it is the cus- 
 tom of bad men and hypocrites, to take advantage at 
 the least abuse of good things, that under that covert 
 they may remove the goodness of those things, rather 
 than the abuse. And how unknowingly, how weakly 
 is the using of set forms attributed here to " constancy," 
 as if it were constancy in the cuckoo to be always in 
 the same liturgy. 
 
 Much less can it be lawful that an Englished mass- 
 book, composed, for ought we know, by men neither 
 learned, nor godly, should justle out, or at any time de- 
 prive us the exercise of that heavenly gift, which God 
 by special promise pours out daily upon his church, 
 that is to say, the spirit of prayer. Whereof to help 
 those many infirmities, which he reckons up, " rude- 
 ness, impertincncy, flatness," and the like, we have a 
 remedy of God's finding out, which is not liturgy, but 
 his own free Spirit. Though we know not what to pray 
 as we ought, yet he with sighs unutterable by any 
 words, much less by a stinted liturgy, dwelling in us 
 makes intercession for us, according to the mind and 
 will of God, both in private and in the performance of 
 all ecclesiastical duties. I'or it is his promise also, 
 that where two or three gathered together in his 
 name shall agree to ask him any thing, it shall be 
 granted ; for he is there in the midst of them. If then 
 ancient churches, to remedy the infirmities of prayer, 
 or rather the infections of Arian and Pelagian heresies, 
 neglecting that ordained and promised help of the 
 Spirit, betook them almost four hundred yeai-s after 
 Christ to liturgy, (their own invention,) we are not to 
 
 imitate them ; nor to distrust God in the removal of 
 that truant help to our devotion, which by him never 
 was appointed. And what is said of liturgy, is said 
 also of directory, if it be imposed : although to forbid 
 the service-book there be much more reason, as being 
 of itself su])erstitious, offensive, and indeed, though 
 Englished, yet still the mass-book ; and public places 
 ought to be provided of such as need not the help of 
 liturgies or directories continually, but are supported 
 with ministerial gifts answerable to their calling. 
 
 Lastly, that tiie common-prayer book was rejected 
 because it " prayed so oft for him," he had no reason 
 to object : for what large and laborious prayers were 
 made for him in the pulpits, if he never heard, it is 
 doubtful they were never heard in heaven. We might 
 now have expected, that his own following prayer 
 should add much credit to set forms; but on the con- 
 trary we find the same imperfections in it, as in most 
 before, which he lays here upon extemporal. Nor doth 
 he ask of God to be directed whether liturgies be law- 
 ful, but presumes, and in a manner would persuade 
 him, that they be so; praying, " that the church and 
 he may never want them." What could be prayed 
 worse extempore ? unless he mean by wanting, that 
 they may never need them. 
 
 XVII. Of the differences in point of Church-Govern- 
 ment. 
 
 The government of church by bishops bath been so 
 fully proved from the Scriptures t(» be vicious and usurp- 
 ed, that whether out of piety or policy maintained, it 
 is not much material ; for piety grounded upon errour 
 can no more justify King Charles, than it did Queen 
 Mary, in the sight of God or man. This however 
 must not be let pass without a serious observation; God 
 having so disposed the author in this chapter as to 
 confess and discover more of mystery and combination 
 between tyranny and false religion, than from any 
 other hand would have been credible. Here we may 
 see the very dark roots of them both turned up, and 
 how they twine and interweave one another in the 
 earth, though above ground shooting up in two several 
 branches. We may have learnt both from sacred his- 
 tory and times of reformation, that the kings of this 
 world have both ever hated and instinctively feared 
 the church of God. Whether it be for that their doc- 
 trine seems much to favour two things to them so 
 dreadful, liberty and equality; or because they are the 
 children of that kingdom, which, as ancient prophecies 
 have foretold, shall in the end break to pieces and dis- 
 solve all their great power and dominion. And those 
 kings and potentates who have strove most to rid them- 
 selves of this fear, by cutting off or suppressing the 
 true church, have drawn upon themselves the occasion 
 of their own ruin, while they thought with most policy 
 to prevent it. Thus Pharaoh, when once he began to 
 fear and wax jealous of the Israelites, lest they should 
 multiply and fight against him, and that his fear stirred 
 
316 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 liim up to afflict and keep them under, as the only re- 
 medy of what he feared, soon found that the evil which 
 before slept, came suddenly upon him, by the prepos- 
 terous way he took to prevent * it. Passing by ex- 
 amples between, and not shutting- wilfully our eyes, 
 we may see the like story brou^i^ht to pass in our own 
 land. This king, more than any before him, except 
 perhaps his father, from his first entrance to the crown, 
 harbouring- in his mind a strange fear and suspicion of 
 men most religious, and their doctrine, which in his 
 own language he here acknowledges, terming it " the 
 seditious exorbitancy" of ministers' tongues, and doubt- 
 ing " lest they," as he not christianly expresses it, 
 " should with the keys of heaven let out peace and 
 loyalty from the people's hearts ;" though they never 
 preached or attempted aught that might justly raise in 
 him such thoughts,f he could not rest, or think iiimself 
 secure, so long as they remained in any of his three 
 kingdoms unrooted out. But outwardly professing 
 the same religion with them, he could not presently 
 use violence as Pharaoh did, and that course had with 
 others before but ill succeeded. He chooses therefore 
 a more mystical way, a newer method of antichristian 
 fraud, to the church more dangerous ; and like to Ba- 
 lak the son of Zippor, against a nation of prophets 
 thinks it best to hire other esteemed prophets, and to 
 undermine and wear out the true church by a false 
 ecclesiastical policy. To this drift he found the go- 
 veniment of bishops most serviceable ; an order in the 
 church, as by men first corrupted, so mutually corrupt- 
 ing them who receive it, both in judgment and man- 
 ners. He, by conferring bishoprics and great livings 
 on whom he thought most pliant to his will, against 
 the known canons and universal practice of the ancient 
 church, whereby those elections were the people's right, 
 sought, as he confesses, to have " greatest influence 
 up<m churchmen." They on the other side finding 
 themselves in a high dignity, neither founded by Scrip- 
 ture, nor allowed by reformation, nor supported by any 
 spiritual gift or grace of their own, knew it their best 
 course to have dependence only upon him : and 
 wrought his fancy by degrees to that degenerate and 
 unkingly persuasion of " No bishop, no king." When 
 as on the contrary all prelates in their own subtle sense 
 are of another mind ; according to that of Pius the 
 fourth remembered in the history of Trent,J that bishops 
 then grow to be most vigorous and potent, when princes 
 happen to be most weak and impotent. Thus when 
 both interest of tyranny and episcopacy were incoq)o- 
 rate into each other, the king, whose principal safety 
 and establishment consisted in the righteous execution 
 of his civil power, and not in bishops and their wicked 
 counsels, fatally driven on, set himself to the extirpating 
 of those men w^hosc doctrine and desire of church-dis- 
 cipline he so feared would be the undoing of his mon- 
 archy. And because no temporal law could touch 
 the innocence of their lives, he begins with the perse- 
 cution of their consciences, laying scandals before 
 them ; and makes that the argument to inflict his un- 
 
 • Th* mcodH *<lilionhiistoshiio it. 
 
 t iitt Mcoad rUiiioii has Mi'ivcheasions. 
 
 just penalties both on their bodies and estates. In this 
 war against the church, if he hath sped so, as other 
 haughty monarchs whom God heretofore halh harden- 
 ed to the like enterprise, we ought to look up with 
 praises and thanksgiving to the author of our deliver-^ 
 ance, to whom victory and power, majesty, honour, and 
 dominion belongs for ever. 
 
 In the mean while, from his own words we may per- 
 ceive easily, that the special motives which he had to 
 endear and deprave his judgment to the favouring and 
 utmost defending of episcopacy, are such as here we 
 represent them : and how unwillingly, and with what 
 mental reservation, he condescended agaiust his interest 
 to remove it out of the peers' house, hath been shewn 
 already. The reasons, which he affirms wrought so 
 much upon his judgment, shall be so far answered as 
 they be urged. 
 
 Scripture he reports, but distinctly produces none ; 
 and next the " constant practice of all christian churches, 
 till of late years tumult, faction, pride, and covetous- 
 ness, invented new models under the title of Christ's 
 government." Could any papist have spoken more 
 scandalously against all reformation ? Well may the 
 parliament and best-aflfected people not now be troubled 
 at his calumnies and reproaches, since he binds them 
 in the same bundle with all other the reformed churches; 
 who also may now further see, besides their own bitter 
 experience, what a cordial and well-meaning helper 
 they had of him abroad, and how true to the protestant 
 cause. 
 
 As for histories to prove bishops, the Bible, if we 
 mean not to run into errours, vanities, and uncertain- 
 ties, must be our only history. Which informs us that 
 the apostles were not properly bishops ; next, that 
 bishops were not successors of apostles, in the function 
 of apostleship : and that if they were apostles, they 
 could not be precisely bishops ; if bishops, tliey could 
 not be apostles ; this being universal, extraordinary, 
 and immediate from God ; that being an ordinary, fixed, 
 and particular charge, the continual inspection over a 
 certain flock. And although an ignorance and devia- 
 tion of the ancient churches afterward, may with as 
 much reason and charity be supposed as sudden in 
 point of prelaty, as in other manifest corruptions, yet 
 that " no example since the firet age for 1500 years 
 can be produced of any settled church, wherein were 
 many ministers and congregations, which had not some 
 bishops above them ;" the ecclesiastical story, to which 
 he appeals for want of Scripture, proves clearly to be a 
 false and overconfident assertion. Sozoroenus, who 
 above twelve hundred years ago, in his seventh book, 
 relates from his own knowledge, that in the churches 
 of Cyprus and Arabia (places near to Jerusalem, and 
 with the first frequented by apostles) they had bishops 
 in every village ; and what could those be more than 
 presbyters ? The like he tells of other nations ; and that 
 episcopal churches in those days did not condemn them. 
 I add, that many western churches, eminent for their 
 faith and good works, and settled above four hundred 
 
 Z Tbe Mcood edition b«s in (he Trentine stor/. 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 317 
 
 years ago in France, in Pieniont and Bohemia, have 
 both taught and practised the same doctrine, and not 
 admitted of episcopacy among them. And if we may 
 believe what the papists themselves have written of 
 these churches, which they call Waldenses, T find it 
 in a book written almost four hundred years since, and 
 set forth in the Bohfmian history, that those churches 
 in Piemont * have held the same doctrine and govern- 
 ment, since the time that Constantino with his mischiev- 
 ous donations poisoned Sylvester and the whole church. 
 Others affirm they have so continued there since the 
 apostles ; and Theodorus Belvederensis in his relation 
 of them confesseth, that those heresies, as he names 
 them, were from the first times of Christianity in that 
 place. For the rest I refer me to that famous testimony 
 of Jerome, who upon that very place which be cites 
 here.t the epistle to Titus, declares openly that bishop 
 and presbyter were one and the same thing, till by the 
 instigation of Satan, partialities grew up in the church, 
 and that bishops rather by custom than any ordainmeut 
 of Christ, were exalted above presbyters; whose inter- 
 pretation we trust shall be received before this intricate 
 stuff tattled here of Timothy and Titus, and I know 
 not whom their successors, far beyond court-element, 
 and as far beneath true edification. These are his 
 " fair grounds both from scripture-canons and ecclesi- 
 astical examples ;" how undivinc-like written, and how 
 like a worldly gospeller that understands nothing of these 
 matters, posterity no doubt will be able to judge; and 
 will but little regard what he calls apostolical, who in his 
 letter to the pope calls apostolical the Roman religion. 
 
 Nor let him think to plead, that therefore, " it was 
 not policy of state," or obstinacy in him which upheld 
 episcopacy, because the injuries and losses which he 
 sustained by so doing were to him " more considerable 
 than episcopacy itself;" for all this might Pharaoh 
 have had to say in his excuse of detaining the Israel- 
 ites, that his own and his kingdom's safety, so much 
 endangered by his denial, was to him more dear than 
 all their building labours could be worth to Egypt. 
 But whom God hardens, them also he blinds. 
 
 He endeavours to make good episcopacy not only 
 in " religion, but from the nature of all civil govern- 
 ment, where parity breeds confusion and faction." 
 But of faction and confusion, to take no other than his 
 own testimony, where hath more been ever bred than 
 under the imparity of his own monarchical government. f* 
 of which to make at this time longer dispute, and from 
 civil constitutions and human conceits to debate and 
 question the convenience of divine ordinations, is neither 
 wisdom nor sobriety : and to confound Mosaic priest- 
 hood with evangelic presbytery against express institu- 
 tion, is as far from warrantable. As little to purpose 
 is it, that we should stand polling the reformed churches, 
 whether they equalize in number " those of his three 
 kingdoms ;" of whom so lately the far greater part, 
 what they have long desired to do, have now quite 
 thrown off episcopacy. 
 
 a very curious hisfory of these churches, written by Samuel 
 i<iuii»iui, esq. who went commissioner extraordinary from O. Cromwell, 
 for relief of the protcstants in the valleys of Piemout. It was published 
 in folio, 165B. 
 
 • We have 
 Morland, esq 
 
 Neither may we count it the language or religion of 
 a protestant, so to vilify the best reformed churches (for 
 none of them but Lutherans retain bishops) as to fear 
 more the scandalizing of papists, because more numer- 
 ous, than of our protestant brethren, because a handful. 
 It will not be worth the while to say what " schisma- 
 tics or heretics " have had no bishops : yet, lest he 
 should be taken for a great reader, he who prompted 
 him, if he were a doctor, might have remembered the 
 forementioned place in Sozomenus ; which affirms, that 
 besides the Cyprians and Arabians, who were counted 
 orthodoxal, the Novations also, and Montanists in 
 Phrygia, had no other bishops than such as were in 
 every village : and what presbyter hath a narrower 
 diocese ? As for the Aerians we know of no heretical 
 opinion justly fathered upon them, but that they held 
 bishops and presbyters to be the same. Which he in 
 this place not obscurely seems to hold a heresy in all 
 the reformed churches; with whom why the church of 
 England desired conformity, he can find no reason, 
 with all his " charity, but the coming in of the Scots' 
 army;" such a high esteem he bad of the Eng- 
 lish! 
 
 He tempts the clergy to return back again to bishops, 
 from the fear of" tenuity and contempt," and the as- 
 surance of better "thriving under the favour of princes;" 
 against which temptations if the clergy cannot arm 
 themselves with their own spiritual armour, they are 
 indeed as " poor a carcass" as he terms them. 
 
 Of secular honours and great revenues added to the 
 dignity of prelates, since the subject of that question is 
 now removed, we need not spend time : but this per- 
 haps will never be unseasonable to bear in mind out of 
 Chrysostom, that when ministers came to have lands, 
 bouses, farms, coaches, horses, and the like lumber, then 
 religion brought forth riches in the church, and the 
 daughter devoured the mother. 
 
 But if his judgment in episcopacy may be judged by 
 the goodly choice he made of bishops, we need not 
 much amuse ourselves with the consideration of those 
 evils, which by his foretelling, will "necessarily follow" 
 their pulling down, until he prove that the apostles, 
 having no certain diocese or appointed place of resi- 
 dence, were properly " bishops over those presbyters 
 whom they ordained, or churches they planted :" 
 wherein ofttimes their labours were both joint and 
 promiscuous : or that the apostolic power must " neces- 
 sarily descend to bishops, the use and end" of either 
 function being so different. And how the church hath 
 flourished under episcopacy, let the multitude of their 
 ancient and gross errours testify, and the words of 
 some learnedest and most zealous bishops among them ; 
 Nazianzen in a devout passion, wishing prelaty had 
 never been ; Bazil terming them the slaves of slaves ; 
 Saint Martin, the enemies of saints, and confessing that 
 after he was made a bishop, he found much of that 
 grace decay in him which he had before. 
 
 Concerning his " Coronation oath," what it was, and 
 
 + The second edition has it thus, " who upon this very place wliicli he 
 only roves at here." 
 
318 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 how far it bound him, already hath been spoken. This 
 we may take for certain, that he was never sworn to 
 his own particular conscience and reason, but to our 
 conditions as a free people, which required him to g'ive 
 us such laws as ourselves should* choose. This the 
 Scots could bring him to, and would not be baffled with 
 the pretence of a coronation-oath, after that episcopacy 
 had for many years been settled there. Which con- 
 cession of his to them, and not to us, he seeks here to 
 put off with evasions that are ridiculous. And to omit 
 no shifts, be alleges that the presbytcrian manners gave 
 him no encouragement to like their modes of govern- 
 ment. If that were so, yet certainly those men are in 
 most likelihood nearer to amendment, who seek a 
 stricter church-discipline than that of episcopacy, under 
 which the most of them learned their manners. If es- 
 timation were to be made of God's law by their man- 
 ners, who, leaving Egypt, received it in the wilderness, 
 it could reap from such an inference as this nothing 
 but rejection and disesteem. 
 
 For the prayer wherewith he closes, it had been good 
 some safe liturgy, which he so commends, had rather 
 been in his way ; it would perhaps in some measure 
 have performed the end for which they say liturgy was 
 fij-st invented ; and have hindered him both here, and 
 at other times, from turning his notorious errours into 
 his prayers. 
 
 XVIII. Upon the Uxhridge Treaty, Sfc. 
 
 " If the way of treaties be looked upon" in general, 
 "as retiring" from bestial force to human reason, his 
 first aphorism here is in part deceived. For men may 
 treat like beasts as well as fight. If some fighting 
 were not manlike, then either fortitude were no virtue, 
 or no fortitude in fighting : And as politicians ofttimes 
 through dilatory purposes and emulations handle the 
 matter, there hath been no where found more bestial- 
 ity than in treating; which hath no more commenda- 
 tions in it, than from fighting to come to undermining, 
 from violence to craft ; and when they can no longer 
 do as lions, to do as foxes. 
 
 The sincerest end of treating after war once pro- 
 claimed is, either to part with more, or to demand less, 
 than was at first fought for, rather than to hazard more 
 lives, or worse mischiefs. What the parliament in that 
 point were willing to have done, when first after the 
 war begun, they petitioned him at Colebrook to vouch- 
 safe a treaty, is not unknown. For after he had taken 
 God to witness of his continual readiness to treat, or to 
 offer treaties to the avoiding of bloodshed, had named 
 Windsor the place of treaty, and passed his royal word 
 not to advance further, till commissioners by such a 
 time were speeded towards him ; taking the advantage 
 of a thick mist, which fell that evening, weather that 
 soon invited him to a design no less treacherous and 
 obscure ; he follows at tiie heels of those messengers 
 of peace with a train of covert war; and with a bloody 
 
 * The second edition has sball cliooee. 
 
 surprise fklls on our secure forces, which lay quartering 
 at Brentford in the thoughts and expectation of a 
 treaty. And although in them who make a trade of 
 war, and against a natural enemy, such an onset might 
 in the rigour of martialf law have been excused, while 
 arms were not yet by agreement suspended ; yet by a 
 king, who seemed so heartily to accept of treating with 
 his subjects, and professes here, " he never wanted 
 either desire or disposition to it, professes to have 
 greater confidence in his reason than in his sword, and 
 as a Christian to seek peace and ensue it," such bloody 
 and deceitful advantages would have been forborne 
 one day at least, if not much longer ; in whom there 
 had not been a thirst rather than a detestation of civil 
 war and blood, and a desire to subdue rather than to 
 treat. 
 
 In the midst of a second treaty not long after, sought 
 by the parliament, and after much ado obtained with 
 him at Oxford, what subtle and unpeaceable designs he 
 then had in chace, his own letters discovered : What 
 attempts of treacherous hostility successful and unsuc- 
 cessful he made against Bristol, Scarborough, and other 
 places, the proceedings of that treaty will soon put us 
 in mind ; and how he was so far from granting more of 
 reason after so much of blood, that he denied then to 
 grant what before he had offered ; making no other use 
 of treaties pretending peace, than to gain advantages 
 that might enable him to continue war : What marvel 
 then if " he thought it no diminution of himself," as oft 
 as he saw his time, " to be importunate for treaties," 
 when he sought them only as by the upshot appeared, 
 "to get opportunities ?" And once to a most cruel pur- 
 pose, if we remember May 1643. And that messenger 
 of peace from Oxford, whose secret message and com- 
 mission, had it been effected, would have drowned the 
 innocence of our treating, in the blood of a designed 
 massacre. Nay, when treaties from the parliament 
 sought out him, no less than seven times, (oft enough 
 to testify the willingness of their obedience, and too 
 oft for the majesty of a parliament to court their sub- 
 jection,) be, in the confidence of his own strength, or 
 of our divisions, returned us nothing back but denials, 
 or delays, to their most necessary demands ; and being 
 at lowest, kept up still and sustained his almost fa- 
 mished hopes with the hourly expectation of raising 
 up himself the higher, by the greater heap which he 
 sat promising himself of our sudden ruin through dis- 
 sension. 
 
 But he infers, as if the parliament would have com- 
 pelled him to part with something of "his honour as a 
 king." What honour could he have, or call his, joined 
 not only with the offence or disturbance, but with the 
 bondage and destruction of three nations ? whereof, 
 though he be careless and improvident, yet the parlia- 
 ment, by our laws and freedom, ought to judge, and 
 use prevention ; our laws else were but cobweb laws. 
 And what were all his most rightful honours, but the 
 people's gift, and the investment of that lustre, ma- 
 jesty, and honour, which for the public good, and no 
 otherwise, redounds from a whole nation into one per- 
 
 t The second edition has military. 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 319 
 
 son ? So far is any honour from being- his to a com- 
 mon mischief and calamity. Yet still he talks on equal 
 terms with the grand representative of that people, for 
 whose sake he was a king ; as if the general welfare 
 and his subservient riofhts were of equal moment or 
 consideration. His aim indeed hath ever been to mag- 
 nify and exalt his borrowed rights and prerogatives 
 above the parliament and kingdom, of whom he holds 
 them. But when a king sets himself to bandy against 
 the highest court and residence of all his reg-al power, 
 he then, in the single person of a man, fights against 
 his own majesty and kingship, and then indeed sets 
 the first hand to his own deposing. 
 
 " The treaty at Uxbridge," he saith, " gave the fair- 
 est hopes of a happy composure;" fairest indeed, if his 
 instructions to bribe our commissioners with the pro- 
 mise of security, rewards, and places, were fair: what 
 other hopes it gave, no man can tell. There being but 
 three main heads whereon to be treated ; Ireland, epis- 
 copacy, and the militia; the first was anticipated and 
 forestalled by a peace at any rate to be hastened 
 with the Irish rebels, ere the treaty could begin, that 
 he might pretend his word and honour passed against 
 " the specious and popular arguments" (he calls them 
 no better) which the parliament would urge upon him 
 for the continuance of that just war. Episcopacy he 
 bids the queen be confident he will never quit : which 
 informs us by what patronage it stood : and the sword 
 he resolves to clutch as fast, as if God with his own 
 hand had put it into his. This was the " moderation 
 which he brought;" this was "as far as reason, ho- 
 nour, conscience," and the queen, who was his regent 
 in all these, " would give him leave." Lastly, " for 
 composure," instead of happy, how miserable it was 
 more likely to have been, wise men could then judge; 
 when the English, during treaty, were called rebels ; 
 the Irish, good and catholic subjects ; and the parlia- 
 ment beforehand, though for fashion's sake called a 
 parliament, yet by a Jesuitical sleight not acknow- 
 ledged, though called so; but privately in the council 
 books enrolled no parliament : that if accommodation 
 had succeeded, upon what terms soever, such a devilish 
 fraud was prepared, that the king in his own esteem 
 had been absolved from all performance, as having 
 treated with rebels and no parliament ; and they, on 
 the other side, instead of an expected happiness, had 
 been brought under the hatchet. Then no doubt " war 
 had ended," that massacre and tyranny might begin. 
 These jealousies, however raised, let all men see whe- 
 ther they be diminished or allayed, by the letters of 
 his own cabinet opened. And yet the breach of this 
 treaty is laid all upon the parliament and their com- 
 missioners, with odious names of " pertinacy, hatred of 
 peace, faction, and covetousness," nay, his own brat 
 " supei-stition " is laid to their charge ; notwithstanding 
 his here professed resolution to continue both the order, 
 maintenance, and authority of prelates, as a truth of 
 God. 
 
 And who " were most to blame in the unsuccessful- 
 ness of that treaty," his appeal is to God's decision ; 
 believing to be very excusable at that tribunal. But if 
 
 ever man gloried in an unflexible stiffness, he came not 
 behind any; and that grand maxim, always to put 
 something into his treaties, which might give colour 
 to refuse all that was in other things granted, and to 
 make them signify nothing, was his own principal 
 maxim and particular instructions to his commission- 
 ers. Yet all, by his own verdict, must be construed 
 reason in the king, and depraved temper in the parlia- 
 ment. 
 
 That the " highest tide of success," with these princi- 
 ples and designs, " set him not above a treaty," no 
 great wonder. And yet if that be spoken to his 
 praise, the parliament therein surpassed him ; who, 
 when he was their vanquished and their captive, his 
 forces utterly broken and disbanded, yet offered him 
 three several times no worse proposals or demands, 
 than when he stood fair to be their conqueror. But 
 that imprudent surmise that his lowest ebb could not 
 set him " below a fight," was a presumption that ruined 
 him. 
 
 He presaged the future " unsuccessfulness of trea- 
 ties, by the unwillingness of some men to treat;" and 
 could not see what was present, that their unwilling- 
 ness had good cause to proceed from the continual ex- 
 perience of his own obstinacy and breach of word. 
 
 His prayer therefore of forgiveness to the guilty of 
 " that treaty's breaking," he had good reason to say 
 heartily over, as including no man in that guilt sooner 
 than himself. 
 
 As for that protestation following in his prayer, 
 " how oft have I entreated for peace, but when I speak 
 thereof they make them ready to war ;" unless he 
 thought himself still in that perfidious mist bstwecn 
 Colebrook and Hounslow, and thought that mist could 
 hide him from the eye of Heaven as well as of man, 
 after such a bloody recompence given to our first offers 
 of peace, how could this in the sight of Heaven with- 
 out horrours of conscience be uttered ? 
 
 XIX. Upon the various events of the War. 
 
 It is no new or unwonted thing, for bad men to claim 
 as much part in God as his best servants; to usurp 
 and imitate their words, and appropriate to themselves 
 those properties, which belong only to the good and 
 righteous. This not only in Scripture is familiarly to 
 be found, but here also in this chapter of Apocrypha. 
 He tells us much, why " it pleased God " to send him 
 victory or loss, (although what in so doing was the in- 
 tent of God, he might be much mistaken as to his own 
 particular,) but we are yet to learn what real good use 
 he made thereof in his practice. 
 
 Those numbers, which he grew to " from small be- 
 ginnings," were not such as out of love came to pro- 
 tect him, for none approved his actions as a king, ex- 
 cept courtiers and prelates, but were such as fled to be 
 protected by him from the fear of that reformation 
 which the pravity of their lives would not bear. Such 
 a snowball he might easily gather by rolling through 
 
.120 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKOX BASILIKE. 
 
 those cold and dark provinces of ig^norance and lewd- 
 ness, where on a sudden he became so numerous. He 
 imputes that to God's " protection," which, to them 
 who persist in a bad cause, is either his long'-suHcrint^ 
 or his hardening' ; and that to wholesome " chastise- 
 ment," which were the gradual beginnings of a severe 
 punishment. For if neither God nor nature put civil 
 power in the hands of an^- whomsoever, but to a lawful 
 end, and commands our obedience to the authority of 
 law only, not to the tyrannical force of any |)€rson ; 
 and if the laws of our land have placed the sword in 
 no man's single hand, so much as to unsheath against 
 a foreign enemy, much less upon the native people ; 
 but have placed it in that elective body of the parlia- 
 ment, to whom the making, repealing, judging, and 
 interpreting of law itself was also committed, as was 
 fittest, so long as we intended to be a free nation, and 
 not the slaves of one man's will ; then was the king 
 himself disobedient and rebellious to that law by which 
 he reigned : and by authority of parliament to raise 
 arms against him in defence of law and liberty, we do 
 not only think, but believe and know, was justifiable 
 both " by the word of God, the laws of the land, and 
 all lawful oaths ;" and they who sided with him, fought 
 against all these. 
 
 The same allegations, which he uses for himself and 
 his party, may as well fit any tyrant in the world : for 
 let the parliament be called a faction when the king 
 pleases, and that no law must be made or changed, 
 either civil or religious, because no law will content 
 all sides, then must be made or changed no law at all, 
 but what a tyrant, be he protestant or papist, thinks fit. 
 Which tyrannous assertion forced upon us by the 
 sword, he who fights against, and dies fighting, if his 
 other sins outweigh not, dies a martyr undoubtedly both 
 of the faith and of the commonwealth ; and I hold it 
 not as the opinicm, but as the full belief and persuasion, 
 of far holier and wiser men than parasitic preachers : 
 who, without their dinner-doctrine, know that neither 
 king, law, civil oaths, or religion, was ever established 
 without the parliament : and their power is the same 
 to abrogate as to establish : neither is any thing to be 
 thought established, which that house declares to be 
 abolished. Where the parliament sits, there insepar- 
 ably sits the king, there the laws, there our oaths, and 
 whatsoever can be civil in religion. They who fought 
 for the parliament, in the truest sense, fought for all 
 these ; who fought for the king divided from his par- 
 liament, fought for the shadow of a king against all 
 these ; and for things that were not, as if they were 
 established. It were a thing monstrously absurd and 
 contradictory, to give the parliament a legislative 
 power, and then to upbraid them for transgressing old 
 establishments. 
 
 But the king and his party having lost in this quar- 
 rel their heaven upon earth, begin to make great reck- 
 oning of eternal life, and at an easy rate in forma 
 pauperis canonize one another into heaven ; he them 
 in his book, they him in the portraiture before his book : 
 
 • Hrar what description an hiitorian of that party gives of those on the 
 royal side : " Never had »ny got*! iiodertaking so many unwrrthv aitend- 
 aola, such horrid blasphemer* and wicked wretches, as ours hatu had : 1 
 
 but as was said before, stage-work will not do it, much 
 less the "justness of their cause," wherein most fre- 
 quently they died in a brutish fierceness, with oaths 
 and other damning words in their mouths ; as if sucli 
 had been all " the only oaths" they fought for ; which 
 undoubtedly sent them full sail on another voyage than 
 to heaven. In the mean while they to whom God 
 gave victory, never brought to the king at Oxford the 
 state of their consciences, that he should presume with- 
 out confession, more than a pope presumes, to tell ; 
 abroad what " conflicts and accusations," men whom 
 he never spoke with, have " in their own thoughts."; 
 We never read of any English king but one that ws 
 a confessor, and his name was Edward ; yet sure it 
 passed his skill to know thoughts, as this king take 
 upon him. But they who will not stick to slandei 
 men's inward consciences, which they can neither sc« 
 nor know, much less will care to slander outward ao 
 tions, which they pretend to see, though with sens 
 never so vitiated. 
 
 To judge of " his condition conquered," and thi 
 manner of " dying" on that side, by the sober mew 
 that chose it, would be his small advantage : it being 
 most notorious, that they who were hottest in his cause, 
 the most of them were men oftener drunk, than by thei( 
 good will sober, and very many of them so fought an<i 
 so died.* 
 
 And that the conscience of any man should grow 
 suspicious, or be now convicted by any pretensions ii 
 the parliament, which are now proved false and unin- 
 tendedj there can be no just cause. For neither did 
 they ever pretend to establish his throne without oui 
 liberty and religion, nor religion without the word ol 
 God, nor to judge of laws by their being establisbed| 
 but to establish them by their being good and necessary 
 
 He tells the world " he often prayed, that all on hig 
 side might be as faithful to God and their own souls, 
 as to him." But kings, above all other men, have in 
 their hands not to pray only, but to do. To make th^ 
 prayer effectual, he should have governed as well as 
 prayed. To pray and not to goveni, is for a monki 
 and not a king. Till then he might be well assured, 
 they were more faithful to their lust and rapine thai 
 to him. 
 
 In the wonted predication of his own virtues he gc 
 on to tell us, that to " conquer he never desired, bul 
 only to restore the laws and liberties of his people.'' 
 It had been happy then he had known at last, that bj 
 force to restore laws abrogated by the legislative par. 
 liament, is to conquer absolutely both them and law 
 itself. And for our liberties none ever oppressed theffl 
 more, both in peace and war; first like a master by hia 
 arbitrary power, next as an enemy by hostile invasion. 
 
 And if his best friends feared him, and " he himself^ 
 in the temptation of an absolute conquest," it wt 
 not only pious but friendly in the parliament, both 
 to fear him and resist him ; since their not yielding wa^ 
 the only means to keep him out of that temptatioui 
 wlicrein he doubted his own strengtli. 
 
 quake to think, much more to speak, what mine ears have heard from soin 
 of their lips ; but to discover them is not my present business." 
 
 Symmau'i Deftnte «f King VharUt J. p. I<i5. 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 321 
 
 He takes himself to be " guilty in this war of no- 
 thing else, but of confirming the power of some men ;" 
 Thus all along he signifies the parliament, whom to 
 have settled by an act he counts to be his only guilti- 
 ness. So well he knew, that to continue a parliament, 
 was to raise a war against himself; what were his ac- 
 tions then, and his government the while ? For never 
 was it heard in all our story, that parliaments made 
 war on their kings, but on their tyrants ; whose modesty 
 and gratitude was more wanting to the parliament, 
 than theirs to any of such kings. 
 
 What he yielded was his fear; what he denied was 
 his obstinacy. Had he yielded more, fear might per- 
 chance have saved him ; had he granted less, his ob- 
 stinacy had perhaps the sooner delivered us. 
 
 " To review the occasions of this war," will be to 
 them never too late, who would be warned by his ex- 
 ample from the like evils: but to wish only a happy 
 conclusion, will never expiate the fault of his unhappy 
 beginnings. It is true, on our side the sins of our lives 
 not seldom fought against us : but on their side, be- 
 sides those, the grand sin of their cause. 
 
 How can it be otherwise, when he desires here most 
 unreasonably, and indeed sacrilegiously, that we should 
 be subject to him, though not further, yet as far as all 
 of us may be subject to God ; to whom this expression 
 leaves no precedency ? He who desires from men as 
 much obedience and subjection, as we may all pay to 
 God, desires not less than to be a God: a sacrilege far 
 worse than meddling with the bishops' lands, as he 
 esteems it. 
 
 His prayer is a good prayer and a glorious ; but glo- 
 rying is not good, if it know not that a little leaven 
 leavens the whole lump. It should have purged out 
 the leaven of untruth, in telling God that the blood of 
 his subjects by him shed, was in his just and necessary 
 defence. Yet this is remarkable ; God hath here so 
 ordered his prayer, that as his own lips acquitted the 
 parliament, not long before his death, of all the blood 
 spilt in this war, so now his prayer unwittingly draws 
 it upon himself. For God imputes not to any man the 
 blood he spills in a just cause; and no man ever beg- 
 ged his not imputing of that, which he in his justice 
 could not impute : so that now, whether purposely or 
 unaware, be bath confessed both to God and man the 
 blood-guiltiness of all this war to lie upon his own 
 head. 
 
 XX. Upon the Reformation of the Times. 
 
 This chapter cannot punctually be answered with- 
 out more repetitions than now can be excusable : which 
 perhaps have already been more humoured than was 
 needful. As it presents us with nothing new, so with 
 his exceptions against reformation pitifully old, and 
 tattered with continual using ; not only in his book, 
 but in the words and writings of every papist and 
 popish king. On the scene he thrusts out first an an- 
 timasque of bugbears, novelty and perturbatiojj ; that 
 the ill looks and noise of those two may as long as 
 
 possible drive off all endeavours of a reformation. 
 Thus sought pope Adrian, by representing the like vain 
 terrours, to divert and dissipate the zeal of those re- 
 forming princes of the age before in Germany. And 
 if we credit Latimer's sermons, our papists here in 
 Eng-Iand pleaded the same dangers and inconveni- 
 encies against that which was reformed by Edward the 
 Sixth. Whereas if those fears had been available, 
 Christianity itself had never been received. Which 
 Christ foretold us would not be admitted, without the 
 censure of novelty, and many great commotions. 
 These therefore are not to deter us. 
 
 He grants reformation to be " a good work," and 
 confesses •' what the indulgence of times and corrup- 
 tion of manners might have depraved." So did the 
 forenientioned pope, and our grandsire papists in this 
 realm. Yet all of them agree in one song with this 
 here, that " they are sorry to see so little regard had to 
 laws established, and the religion settled." 
 
 " Popular compliance, dissolution of all order and 
 government in the church, schisms, opinions, undccen- 
 cies, confusions, sacrilegious invasions, contempt of the 
 clergy and their liturgy, diminution of princes ;" all 
 these complaints are to be read in the messages and 
 speeches almost of every legate from the pope to those 
 states and cities which began reformation. From 
 whence he either learned the same pretences, or had 
 them naturally in him from the same spirit. Neither 
 was there ever so sincere a reformation that hath 
 escaped these clamours. 
 
 He offered a " synod or convocation rightly chosen." 
 So offered all those popish kings heretofore ; a course 
 the most unsatisfactory, as matters have been long car- 
 ried, and found by experience in the church liable to 
 the greatest fraud and packing ; no solution, or redress 
 of evil, but an increase rather; detested therefore by 
 Nazianzen, and some other of the fathers. And let it 
 be produced, what good hath been done by synods from 
 the first times of reformation. 
 
 Not to justify what enormities the vulgar may com- 
 mit in the rudeness of their zeal, we need but only in- 
 stance bow be bemoans " the pulling down of crosses" 
 and other superstitious monuments, as the effect " of a 
 pupular and deceitful reformation." How little this 
 savours of a protestant, is too easily perceived. 
 
 What he charges in defect of "piety, charity, and 
 morality," hath J)een also charged by papists upon the 
 best reformed churches ; not as if they the accusers were 
 not tenfold more to be accused, but out of their malig- 
 nity to all endeavour of amendment; as we know who 
 accused to God the sincerity of Job; an accusation of 
 all others the most easy, when as there lives not any 
 mortal man so excellent, who in these things is not 
 always deficient. But the infirmities of the best men, 
 and the scandals of mixed hypocrites in all times of 
 reforming, whose bold intrusion covets to be ever seen 
 in things most sacred, as they are most specious, can 
 lay no just blemish upon the integrity of others, much 
 less upon the purpose of reformation itself. Neither 
 can the evil doings of some be the excuse of our de- 
 laying or deserting that duty to the church, which for 
 
322 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 no respect of times or carnal policies can be at any 
 time unseasonable. 
 
 He tells with great shew of piety what kind of per- 
 sons public reformers ought to be, and what they ought 
 to d(». It is strange that in above twenty years, the 
 church growing still worse and worse under him, he 
 could neither be as he bids others be, nor do as he 
 pretends here so well to know; nay, which is worst of 
 all, after the greatest part of bis reign spent in neither 
 knowing nor doing aught toward a reformation either 
 in church or state, should spend the residue in hinder- 
 ing those by a seven years war, whom it concerned, 
 with his consent or without it, to do their parts in that 
 great performance. 
 
 It is true, that the " method of reforming" may well 
 subsist without " perturbation of the state ; " but that 
 it falls out otherwise for the most part, is the plain text 
 of Scripture. And if by bis own rule he had allowed 
 us to " fear God first," and the king in due order, our 
 allegiance might have still followed our religion in a 
 fit subordination. But if Christ's kingdom be taken 
 for the true discipline of the church, and by " his king- 
 dom " be meant the violence he used against it, and to 
 uphold an antichristian hierarchy, then sure enoufjh it 
 is, that Christ's kingdom could not be set up without 
 pulling down his : and they were best Christians who 
 were least subject to him. " Christ's government," 
 out of question meaning it prelatical, he thought would 
 confirm his : and this was that which overthrew it. 
 
 He professes " to own his kingdom from Christ, and 
 to desire to rule for his glory, and the church's good." 
 The pope and the king of Spain profess every where 
 as much ; and both by his practice and all his reason- 
 ings, all his enmity against the true church we see 
 hath been the same with theirs, since the time that in 
 his letter to the pope he assured them both of his full 
 compliance. " But evil beginnings never bring forth 
 good conclusions : " they are his own words, and he 
 ratified them by his own ending. To the pope he en- 
 gaged himself to hazard life and estate for the Roman 
 religion, whether in compliment he did it, or in earnest ; 
 and God, who stood nearer than he for complimenting 
 minded, writ down those words ; that according to his 
 resolution, so it should come to pass. He prays against 
 " his hypocrisy and pharisaical washings," a prayer to 
 him most pertinent, but chokes it straight with other 
 words, which pray him deeper into his old errours and 
 delusions. 
 
 XXI. Upon his Letters taken and divulged. 
 
 The king's letters taken at the battle of Naseby, 
 being of greatest importance to let the people see what 
 faith there was in all his promises and solemn protesta* 
 tions, were transmitted to public view by special order 
 of the parliament. They discovered his good affection 
 lo papists and Irish rebels, the strict* intelligence he 
 beld, the pernicious and dishonourable peace be made 
 
 * Tb* leood edition has tb« old word ttraifht. 
 
 
 witli them, not solicited, but rather soliciting, which by 
 all invocations that were holy he had in public abjured. 
 They revealed his endeavours to bring in foreign forces, 
 Irish, French, Dutch, Lorrainers, and our old invaders 
 the Danes upon us, besides his subtleties and myste- 
 rious arts in treating; to sum up all, they shewed him 
 governed by a woman. All which, though suspected 
 vehemently before, and from good grounds believed, 
 yet by him and his adherents peremptorily denied, were 
 by the opening of that cabinet visible to all men under ] 
 his own hand. \ 
 
 The parliament therefore, to clear themselves of as 
 persing him without cause, and that the people might 
 no longer be abused and cajoled, as they call it, by 
 falsities and court impudence, in matters of so high 
 concernment; to let them know on what terms tijeir 
 duty stood, and the kingdom's peace, conceived i 
 most expedient and necessary, that those letters shoul 
 be made public. This the king affirms was by thcr 
 done without "honour and civility;" words, which i 
 they contain not in them, as in the language of 
 courtier most commonly they do not, more of substanc 
 and reality, than compliment, ceremony, court-fawning, 
 and dissembling, enter not I suppose further than th( 
 ear into any wise man's consideration. Matters wen 
 not then between the parliament, and a king thei 
 enemy, in that state of trifling, as to observe those sa 
 perficial vanities. But if honour and civility mean 
 as they did of old, discretion, honesty, prudence, an 
 plain truth, it will be then maintained against any sec 
 of those Cabalists, that the parliament, in doing wha 
 they did with those letters, could suffer in their honou 
 and civility no diminution. The reasons are alreadj 
 heard. 
 
 And that it is with none more familiar than wi 
 kings, to transgress the bounds of all honour and civility, 
 there should not want examples good store, if brevit 
 would permit : in point of letters, this one'shall suffice. 
 
 The duchess of Burgundy, and heir of duke Charles 
 had promised to her subjects, that she intended m 
 otherwise to govern, than by advice of the three estates 
 but to Lewis the French king had written letters, thai 
 she had resolved to commit wholly the managing ol 
 her affairs to four persons, whom she named. Th« 
 three estates, not doubting the sincerity of her princelj 
 word, send ambassadors to Lewis, who then besieged 
 Arras belonging to the duke oi Burgundy. The king 
 taking hold of this occasion to set them at division 
 among themselves, questioned their credence : whicl 
 when they offered to produce with their instructions, 
 he not only shews them the private letter of thei 
 duchess, but gives it them to carry home, wherewith t< 
 affront her; which they did, she denying it stoutly ; til 
 thev, spreading it before her face in a full assembly, 
 convicted her of an open lie. Which, although C 
 mines the historian much blames, as a deed too harsh 
 and dishonourable in them who were subjects, and not 
 at war with their princess, yet to his master Lewis, who 
 first divulged those letters, to the open shaming of tha 
 young governess, he imputes no incivility or dishonou: 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 323 
 
 at all, althoug-h betraying a certain confidence reposed 
 by that letter in bis royal secrecy. 
 
 With much more reason then may letters not inter- 
 cepted only, but won in battle from an enemy, be made 
 public to the best advantag'es of them that win them, 
 to the discovery of such important truth or falsehood. 
 Was it not more dishonourable in himself to feign sus- 
 picions and jealousies, which we first found among 
 those letters, touching the chastity of his mother, thereby 
 to gain assistance from the king of Denmark, as in 
 vindication of his sister .'* The damsel of Burgundy 
 at sight of her own letter was soon blank, and more 
 ingenuous than to stand outfacing ; but this man, 
 whom nothing will convince, thinks by talking world 
 without end, to make good his integrity and fair deal- 
 ing, contradicted by his own hand and seal. They 
 who can pick nothing out of them but phrases, shall 
 be counted bees: they that discern further both there 
 and here, that constancy to his wife is set in place be- 
 fore laws and religion, are in his naturalities no better 
 than spiders. 
 
 He would work the people to a persuasion, that " if 
 he be miserable, they cannot be happy." What should 
 hinder them ? Were they all Lorn twins of Hippo- 
 crates with him and his fortune, one birth, one burial.'' 
 It were a nation miserable indeed, not worth the name 
 of a nation, but a race of idiots, whose happiness and 
 welfare depended upon one man. The happiness of a 
 nation consists in true religion, piety, justice, prudence, 
 temperance, fortitude, and the contempt of avarice and 
 ambition. They in whomsoever these virtues dwell 
 eminently, need not kings to make them happy, but 
 are the architects of their own happiness; and whether 
 to themselves or others are not less than kings. But in 
 him which of these virtues were to be found, that might 
 extend to the making happy, or the well-goveniing of 
 so much as his own household, which was the most 
 licentious and ill-governed in the whole land ? 
 
 But the opening of his letters was designed by the 
 parliament " to make all reconciliation desperate." 
 Are the lives of so many good and faithful men, that 
 died for the freedom of their country, to be so slighted, 
 as to be forgotten in a stupid reconcilement without 
 justice done them ? What he fears not by war and 
 slaughter, should we fear to make desperate by 
 opening his letters.^ Which fact he would parallel 
 with Cham's revealing of his father's nakedness: when 
 he at that time could be no way esteemed the Father of 
 his Country, but the destroyer; nor had he ever before 
 merited that former title. 
 
 " He thanks God he cannot only bear this with pa- 
 tience, but with charity forgive the doers." Is not 
 this meer mockery, to thank God for what he can do, 
 but will not .'' For is it patience to impute barbarism 
 and inhumanity to the opening of an enemy's letter, 
 or is it charity to clothe them with curses in his prayer, 
 whom he hath forgiven in his discourse ? In which 
 prayer, to shew how readily he can return good for 
 evil to the parliament, and that if they take away his 
 coat he can let them have his cloak also ; for the 
 dismantling of his letters he wishes *' they may be 
 
 covered with the cloak of confusion." Which I sup- 
 pose they do resign with much willingness, both live- 
 ry, badge, and cognizance, to them who chose rather 
 to be the slaves and vassals of his will, than to stand 
 against him, as men by nature free ; born and created 
 with a better title to their freedom, than any king hath 
 to his crown. 
 
 XXII. Upon his going to the Scots. 
 
 The king's coming in, whether to the Scots or 
 English, deserved no thanks : for necessity w as his 
 counsellor ; and that he hated them both alike, his ex- 
 pressions everywhere manifest. Some say his purpose 
 was to have come to London, till hearing how strictly 
 it was proclaimed, that no man should conceal him, he 
 diverted his course. But that had been a frivolous ex- 
 cuse : and besides, he himself rehearsing the consulta- 
 tions had, before he took his journey, shews us clearly 
 that he was determined to adventure " upon their loy- 
 alty who first began his troubles." And that the Scots 
 had notice of it before, hath been long since brought 
 to light. What prudence there could be in it, no man 
 can imagine ; malice there might be, by raising new 
 jealousies to divide friends. For besides his diffidence 
 of the English, it was no small dishonour that he put 
 upon them, when rather than yield himself to the par- 
 liament of England, he yielded to a hireling army of 
 Scots in England, paid for their service here, not in 
 Scotch coin, but in English silver; nay, who from the 
 first beginning of the.se troubles, what with brotherly 
 assistance, and what with monthly pay, have defended 
 their own liberty and consciences at our charge. How- 
 ever, it was a hazardous and rash journey taken, " to 
 resolve riddles in men's loyalty," who had more reason 
 to mistrust the riddle of such a disguised yielding ; 
 and to put himself in their hands whose loyalty was a 
 riddle to him, was not the course to be resolved of it', 
 but to tempt it. What Providence denied to force, he 
 thought it might gi-ant to fraud, which he styles Pru- 
 dence ; but Providence was not cozened with disguises, 
 neither outward nor inward. 
 
 To have known " his greatest danger in his supposed 
 safety, and his greatest safety in his supposed danger," 
 was to him a fatal riddle never yet resolved ; wherein 
 rather to have employed his main skill, had been much 
 more to his preservation. 
 
 Had he " known when the game was lost," it might 
 have saved much contest; but the way to give over 
 fairly, was not to slip out of open war into a new dis- 
 guise. He lays down his arms, but not his wiles ; nor 
 all his arms ; for in obstinacy he comes no less armed 
 than ever cap a pe. And what were they but wiles, 
 continually to move for treaties, and yet to persist the 
 same man, and to fortify his mind before-hand, still 
 purposing to grant no more than what seemed good to 
 that violent and lawless triumvirate within him, under 
 the falsified names of his reason, honour, and consci- 
 ence, the old circulating dance of his shifts and evasions ,' 
 
324 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASTLIKE. 
 
 The worJs of a king, as lliey are full of power, in 
 the authority and strenjfth of law, so like Samson, 
 without the strength of that Nazarite's lock, they have 
 no more power in them than the words of another man. 
 
 He adores reason as Domitian did Minerva, and 
 calls her the " Divinest power," thereby to intimate as 
 if at reasoning, as at his own weapon, no man were so 
 able as himself. Might we be so happy as to know 
 where these monuments of his reason may be seen ; for 
 in his actions and his writing they appear as thinly as 
 could be expected from the meanest parts, bred up in 
 the midst of so many ways extraordinary to know 
 something. He who reads his talk, would think he 
 had left Oxford not without mature deliberation : yet 
 his prayer confesses, that " he knew not what to do." 
 Thus is verified that Psalm ; " he poureth contempt 
 upon princes, and causeth them to wander in the wil- 
 derness where there is no way." Psal. cvii. 
 
 XXIII. Upon the Scots delivering the hing to the 
 English. 
 
 That the Scots in England should " sell their king," 
 as he himself here affirms, and for a " price so much 
 above that," which the covetousness of Judas was con- 
 tented with to sell our Saviour, is so foul an infamy 
 and dishonour cast upon them, as befits none to vindi- 
 cate but themselves. And it were but friendly counsel 
 to wish them beware the son, who comes among them 
 with a firm belief, that they sold his father. The rest 
 of this chapter he sacrifices to the echo of his con- 
 science, out-babling creeds and aves : glorying in his 
 resolute obstinacy, and as it were triumphing how 
 " evident it is now, not that evil counsellors," but he 
 himself, hath been the author of all our troubles. Herein 
 only we shall disagree to the world's end, while he, 
 who sought so manifestly to have annihilated all our 
 laws and liberties, hath the confidence to persuade 
 us, that he hath fought and suffered all this while in 
 their defence. 
 
 But he who neither by his own letters and commis- 
 sions under hand and seal, nor by his own actions held 
 as in a mirror before his face, will be convinced to see 
 his faults, can much less be won upon by any force of 
 words, neither he, nor any that take after him ; who 
 in that respect are no more to be disputed with, than 
 they who deny principles. No question then but the 
 parliament did wisely in their decree at last, to make 
 no more addresses. For how unalterable his will was, 
 that would have been our lord, how utterly averse 
 from the parliament and reformation during his con- 
 finement, we may behold in this chapter. But to be 
 ever answering fruitless repetitions, I should become 
 liable to answer for the same myself. He borrows 
 David's psalms, as he charges the assembly of divines 
 in his twentieth discourse, " To have set forth old cate- 
 chisms and confessions of faith new dressed :" had he 
 borrowed David's heart, it had been much the holier 
 theft. For such kind of borrowing as this, if it be not 
 
 bettered by the borrower, among good autliors is ac- 
 counted plagiary. However, this was more tolerable 
 than Pamela's prayer stolen out of Sir Philij). 
 
 XXIV. Upon the denying him the attendance of his 
 Chaplains. 
 
 A CHAPLAIN is a thing so diminutive and inconsider- 
 able, that how he should come here among matters of 
 so great concernment, to take such room up in the dis- 
 courses of a prince, if it be not wondered, is to be 
 smiled at. Certainly by me, so mean an argument 
 shall not be written ; but I shall huddle him, as he 
 does prayers. The Scripture owns no such order, no 
 such function in the church ; and the church not own- 
 ing them, they are left, for aught I know, to such a 
 further examining as the sons of Sceva the Jew met 
 with. Bishops or presbyters we know, and deacons 
 we know, but what are chaplains .•* In state perhaps 
 they may be listed among the upper serving-men of 
 some great household, and be admitted to some such 
 place, as may style them the sewers, or the yeomen- 
 ushers of devotion, where the master is too resty or too 
 rich to say his own prayers, or to bless his own table. 
 Wherefore should the parliament then take such im- 
 plements of the court cupboard into their consideration ? 
 They knew them to have been the main corrupters at 
 the king's elbow ; they knew the king to have been 
 always their most attentive scholar and imitator, and 
 of a child to have sucked from them and their closet- 
 work all his impotent principles of tyranny and super- 
 stition. While therefore they had any hope left of his 
 reclaiming, these sowers of malignant tares they kept 
 asunder from him, and sent to him such of the minis- 
 ters and other zealous persons, as they thought were 
 best able to instruct him, and to convert him. What 
 could religion herself have done more, to the saving of 
 a soul ? But when they found him past cure, and that 
 he to himself was grown the most evil counsellor of 
 all, they denied him not his chaplains, as many as 
 were fitting, and some of them attended him, or else 
 were at his call, to the very last. Yet here he makes 
 more lamentation for the want of his chaplains, than 
 superstitious Micah did to the Danites, who had taken 
 away his household priest : " Ye have taken away my 
 gods which I made, and the priest, and what have I 
 more ?" And perhaps the whole story of Micah might 
 square not unfitly to this argument : " Now know I," 
 saith he, " that the Lord will do me good, seeing I 
 have a Levite to my priest." Micah had as great a care 
 that his priest should be Mosaical, as the king had, 
 that his should be apostolical ; yet both in an errour 
 touching their priests. Household and private orisons 
 were not to be officiated by priests; for neither did 
 public prayer appertain only to their office. Kings here- 
 tofore, David, Solomon, and Jehosaphat, who might not 
 touch the priesthood, yet might pray in public, yes. in 
 the temple, while the priests themselves stood and 
 heard. What ailed this king tiien, that he could not 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 325 
 
 chew his own matins without the priest's Ore tenus ? 
 Yet is it like he could not pray at home, who can here 
 publish a whole prayerbook of his own, and sig^nifies 
 in some part of this chapter, almost as good a mind to 
 be a priest himself, as Micah had to let his son be ! 
 There was doubtless therefore some other matter in it, 
 which made him so desirous to hare his chaplains 
 about him, who were not only the contrivers, but very 
 oft the instruments also of his designs. 
 
 The ministers which were sent him, no marvel he 
 endured not; for they preached repentance to him : the 
 others gave him easy confession, easy absolution, nay 
 strengthened his hands, and hardened his heart, by 
 applauding him in his wilful ways. To them he was 
 an Ahab, to these a Constantine ; it must follow then, 
 that they to him were as unwelcome as Elijah was to 
 Ahab, these as dear and pleasing as Amaziah the priest 
 of Bethel was to Jeroboam. These had learned well 
 the lesson that would please ; " Prophesy not against 
 Bethel, for it is the king's chapel, the king's court ;" 
 and had taught the king to say of those ministers, 
 which the parliament had sent, " Amos hath conspired 
 against me, the land is not able to bear all his words." 
 
 Returning to our first parallel, this king looked upon 
 his prelates, " as orphans under the sacrilegious eyes 
 of many rapacious reformers:" and there was as great 
 fear of sacrilege between Micah and his mother, till 
 with their holy treasure, about the loss whereof there 
 was such cursing, they made a graven and a molten 
 image, and got a priest of their own. To let go his 
 criticizing about the " sound of prayers, imperious, 
 rude, or passionate," modes of his own devising, we 
 are in danger to fall again upon the flats and shallows 
 of liturgy. Which if I should repeat again, would 
 turn my answers into Responsories, and beget another 
 liturgy, having too much of one already. 
 
 This only I shall add, that if the heart, as he alleges, 
 cannot safely "join with another man's extemporal 
 sufficiency," because we know not so exactly what they 
 mean to say ; then those public prayers made in the 
 temple by those forenamed kings, and by the apostles 
 in the congregation, and by the ancient Christians for 
 above three hundred years before liturgies came in, 
 were with the people made in vain. 
 
 After he hath acknowledged, that kings heretofore 
 prayed without chaplains, even publickly in the temple 
 itself, and that every " private believer is invested with 
 a royal priesthood ;" yet like one that relished not 
 ,what he " tasted of the heavenly gift, and the good 
 word of God," whose name he so confidently takes into 
 his mouth, he frames to himself impertinent and vain 
 reasons, why he should rather pray by the officiating 
 mouth of a closet chaplain. " Their prayers," saith 
 he, " are more prevalent, they flow from minds more 
 enlightened, from affections less distracted." Admit 
 this true, which is not, this might be something said 
 as to their prayers for him, but what avails it to their 
 praying with him .' If his own mind " be encumbered 
 with secular affairs," what helps it his particular prayer, 
 though the mind of his chaplain be not wandering, 
 either after new preferment, or his dinner .'' The fer- 
 
 vency of one man in prayer cannot supererogate for 
 the coldness of another ; neither can his spiritual de- 
 fects in that duty be made out, in the acceptance of 
 God, by another man's abilities. Let him endeavour 
 to have more light in himself, and not to walk by an- 
 other man's lamp, but to get oil into his own. Let him 
 cast from him, as in a christian warfare, that secular 
 encumbrance, which either distracts or overloads him ; 
 his load else will never be the less heavy, because an- 
 other man's is light. Thus these pious flourishes and 
 colours, examined thoroughly, are like the apples of 
 Asphaltis, appearing goodly to the sudden eye, but 
 look well upon them, or at least but touch them, and 
 they turn into cinders. 
 
 In his prayer he remembers what " voices of joy and 
 gladness" there were in his chapel, " God's house," in 
 his opinion, between the singing men and the organs; 
 and this was " unity of spirit in the bond of peace ;" 
 the vanity, superstition, and misdevotion of which 
 place, was a scandal far and near : Wherein so many 
 things were sung and prayed in those songs, which 
 were not understood ; and yet he who makes a diffi- 
 culty how the people can join their hearts to extem- 
 poral prayers, though distinctly heard and understood, 
 makes no question how they should join their hearts 
 in unity to songs not understood. 
 
 I believe that God is no more moved with a prayer 
 elaborately ])enned, than men truly charitable are 
 moved with the penned speech of a beggar. 
 
 Finally, O ye ministers, ye pluralists, whose lips 
 preserve not knowledge, but the way ever open to your 
 bellies, read here what work he makes among your 
 wares, your gallipots, your balms and cordials, in print; 
 and not only your sweet sippets in widows' houses, but 
 the huge gobbets wherewith he charges you to have 
 devoured bouses and all ; the " houses of your bre- 
 thren, your king, and your God." Cry him up for a 
 saint in your pulpits, while be cries you down for athe- 
 ists into bell. 
 
 XXV. Upon hit penitential Meditations and Vows at 
 Holmby. 
 
 It is not hard for any man, who hath a Bible in his 
 hands, to borrow good words and holy sayings in 
 abundance ; but to make them his own, is a work of 
 grace, only from above. He borrows here many peni- 
 tential verses out of David's psalms. So did many 
 among those Israelites, who had revolted from the true 
 worship of God, " invent to themselves instruments of 
 music like David," and probably psalms also like his ; 
 and yet the prophet Amos complains heavily against 
 them. But to prove how short this is of true repent- 
 ance, I will recite the penitence of others, who have 
 repented in words not borrowed, but their own, and 
 yet by the doom of Scripture itself, are judged repro- 
 bates. 
 
 " Cain said unto the Lord, My iniquity is greater 
 than I can bear : behold thou hast driven me this day 
 
3*26 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 i'roni tlie face of the earth, and from t)iy face shall I 
 be hid. 
 
 " And when Esan heard the words of his father, he 
 cried with an exceeding^ bitter cry, and said, Bless nie, 
 even me also, O my father ; yet found no place of re- 
 pentance, though he sought it carefully with tears. 
 Heb. xii. 
 
 "And Pharaoh said to Moses, The Lord is righteous, 
 T and my people are wicked ; I have sinned against 
 the Lord your God, and against you. 
 
 '* And Balaam said. Let me die the death of the 
 righteous, and let my last end be like his. 
 
 " And Saul said to Samuel, 1 have sinned, for I have 
 transgressed the commandment of the Lonl ; yet honour 
 me now, I pray thee, before the elders of my people. 
 
 •* And when Ahab heard the words of Elijah, he rent 
 his clothes, and put sackcloth up<»n his flesh, and fasted, 
 and lay in sackcloth, and went softly. 
 
 "Jehoram also rent his clothes, and the people look- 
 ed, and behold he had sackcloth upon his flesh ;" yet 
 in the very act of his humiliation he could say, " God 
 do so, and more also to me, if the head of Elisha shall 
 stand on him this day. 
 
 "Therefore saith the Lord, They have not cried unto 
 me with their heart, when they howled upon their beds. 
 They return, but not to the Most High. Hosea vii. 
 
 " And Judas said, I ha>e sinned, in that I have be- 
 trayed innocent blood. 
 
 " And Simon Magus said, Pray ye to the Lord for 
 me, that none of these things come upon me." 
 
 All these took the pains both to confess and to repent 
 in their own words, and many of them in their own 
 tears, not in David's. But transported with the vain 
 ostentation of imitating David's language, not his life, 
 observe how he brings a curse upon himself and his 
 father's house (God so disposing it) by his usurped and 
 ill-imitated prayer, " Let thy anger I beseech thee be 
 against me and my father's house ; as for these sheep, 
 what have they done.'*" For if David indeed sinned in 
 numbering the people, of which fault he in earnest 
 made that confession, and acquitted the whole people 
 from the guilt of that sin; then doth this king, using 
 the same words, bear witness against himself to be the 
 guilty person ; and either in his soul and conscience 
 here acquits the parliament and the people, or else 
 abuses the words of David, and dissembles grossly to 
 the very face of God ; which is apparent in the next 
 line; wherein he accuses even the church itself to God, 
 as if she were the church's enemy, for having overcome 
 his tyranny by the powerful and miraculous might of 
 God's manifest arm : For to other strength, in the midst 
 of our divisions and disorders, who can attribute our 
 victories? Thus had this miserable man no worse ene- 
 mies to solicit and mature his own destruction, from 
 the ha.stened sentence of divine justice, than the obdu- 
 rate curses which proceeded against himself out of his 
 own mouth. 
 
 Hitherto his meditations, now his vows ; which, as 
 the vows of hypocrites use to be, are most commonly 
 absurd, and some wicked. Jacob vowed, that God 
 should be his God,if he granted him but what was ne- 
 
 cessary to perform that vow, life and subsistence ; but 
 the obedience proflTered here is nothing so cheap. He, 
 who took so heinously to be ottered nineteen proposi- 
 tions from the parliament, capitulates here with God 
 almost in as many articles. 
 
 " If he will continue that light," or rather that dark- 
 ness of the gospel, which is among his prelates, settle 
 their luxuries, and make them gorgeous bishops; 
 
 If he will " restore" the grievances and mischiefs of 
 those obsolete and popish laws, which the parliament 
 without his consent had abrogated, and will sufler jus- 
 tice to be executed according to his sense; 
 
 " If he will suppress the many schisms in church," 
 to contradict himself in that which he hath foretold 
 must and shall come to pass, and will remove reforma- 
 tion as the greatest schism of all, and factions in state, 
 by which he means in every leaf the parliament; 
 
 If he will " restore him" to his negative voice and 
 the militia, as much as to say, to arbitrary power, which 
 he wrongfully avers to be the " right of bis prede- 
 cessors ;" 
 
 "If he will turn the hearts of his people" to their 
 old cathedral and parochial service in the liturgy, and 
 their passive obedience to the king ; 
 
 " If he will quench" the army, and withdraw our 
 forces from withstanding the piracy of Rupert, and the 
 plotted Irish invasion ; 
 
 "If he will bless him with the freedom" of bishops 
 again in the house of peers, and of fugitive delinquents 
 in the house of commons, and deliver the honour of par- 
 liament into his hands, from the most natural and due 
 protection of the people, that entrusted them with the 
 dangerous enterprise of being faithful to their coun- 
 try against the rage and malice of his tyrannous oppo- 
 sition ; 
 
 "If he will keep him from that great offence" of 
 following the counsel of his parliament, and enacting- 
 what they advise him to; which in all reason, and by 
 the known law, and oath of his coronation, he ought to 
 do, and not to call that sacrilege, which necessity 
 through the continuance of his own civil war hath com- 
 pelled him to ; necessity, which made David eat the 
 shewbread, made Ezekiah take all the silver which 
 was found in God's house, and cut off the gold which 
 overlaid those doors and pillars, and gave it to Sena- 
 cberib ; necessity, which ofttimes made the primitive 
 church to sell her sacred utensils, even to the commu- 
 nion-chalice ; 
 
 " If he will restore him to a capacity of glorifying 
 him by doing" that both in church and state, which 
 must needs dishonour and pollute his name; 
 
 " If he will bring him again with peace, honour, 
 and safety, to his chief city," without repenting, with- 
 out satisfying for the blood spilt, only for a few politic 
 concessions, which are as good as nothing ; 
 
 " If he will put again the sword into his hand, toJ 
 punish " those that have delivered us, and to j)rotect 
 delinquents against the justice of parliament ; 
 
 Then, if it be possible to reconcile contradictions, h4 
 will praise him by displeasing him, and serve him bj 
 disservinsf him. 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 327 
 
 " His g^lory," in the gaudy copes and painted win- 
 dows, mitres, rochets, altars, and the chaunted service- 
 book, "shall be dearer to him," than the establishing- 
 his crown in righteousness, and the spiritual power of 
 religion. 
 
 " He will pardon those that have offended him in 
 particular," but there shall want no subtle ways to be 
 even with them upon another score of their supposed 
 offences against the commonwealth ; whereby he may 
 at once affect the glory of a seeming justice, and de- 
 stroy them pleasantly, while he feigns to forgive them 
 as to his own particular, and outwardly bewails them. 
 
 These are the conditions of his treating with God, to 
 whom he bates nothing of what he stood upon with the 
 parliament : as if commissions of array could deal with 
 him also. 
 
 But of all these conditions, as it is now evident in our 
 eyes, God accepted none, but that final petition, which 
 he so oft, Tio doubt but by the secret judgment of God, 
 importunes against his own head ; praying God, " That 
 his mercies might be so toward him, as his resolutions 
 of truth and peace were toward his people." It follows 
 then, God having cut him off, without granting any of 
 these mercies, that his resolutions were as feigned, as 
 his vows were frustrate. 
 
 XXVI. Upon the Army's surprisal of the King at 
 Holmby. 
 
 To give account to royalists wh-it was done with 
 their vanquished king, yielded up into our hands, is 
 not to be expected from them, whom God hath made 
 his conquerors. And for brethren to debate and rip up 
 their falling out in the ear of a common enemy, thereby 
 making him the judge, or at least the well-pleased au- 
 ditor of their disagreement, is neither wise nor comely. 
 To the king therefore, were he living, or to his party 
 yet remaining, as to this action, there belongs no an- 
 swer. Emulations, all men know, are incident among 
 military men, and are, if they exceed not, pardonable. 
 But some of the former army, eminent enough for their 
 own martial deeds, and prevalent in the house of com- 
 mons, touched with envy to be so far outdone by a 
 new model which they contemned, took advantage of 
 presbyterian and independent names, and the viru- 
 lence of some ministers, to raise disturbance. And 
 the war being then ended, thought slightl}' to have 
 discarded them who had faithfully done the work, 
 without their due pay, and the reward of their invinci- 
 ble valour. But they who had the sword yet in their 
 hands, disdaining to be made the first objects of in- 
 gratitude and oppression, after all that expense of their 
 blood for justice, and the common liberty, seized upon 
 the king their prisoner, whom nothing but their match- 
 less deeds had brought so low as to surrender up his 
 person : though he, to stir up new discord, chose rather 
 to give up himself a captive to his own countrymen, 
 who less had won him. This in likelihood might 
 have grown to some height of mischief, partly through 
 
 the strife which was kindling between our elder and 
 our younger warriors, but chiefly through the seditious 
 tongues of some false ministers, more zealous against 
 schisms, than against their own simony and plurali- 
 ties, or watchful of the common enemy, whose subtile 
 insinuations had got so far in among them, as with all 
 diligence to blow the coals. But it pleased God, not 
 to embroil and put to confusion his whole people for 
 the perversencss of a few. The growth of our dissen- 
 sion was either prevented, or soon quieted : the enemy 
 soon deceive! of his rejoicing, and the king especially 
 disappointed of not the meanest morsel that his hope 
 presented him, to ruin us by our division. And being 
 now so nigh the end, we may the better be at leisure to 
 stay a while, and hear him commenting upon his own 
 captivity. 
 
 He saith of his surprisal, that it was a" motion ec- 
 centric and irregular." What then ? his own allusion 
 from the celestial bodies puts us in mind, that irregular 
 motions may be necessary on earth sometimes, as well 
 as constantly in heaven. This is not always best, 
 which is most regular to written law. Great worthies 
 heretofore by disobeying law, ofttimcs have saved 
 the commonwealth ; and the law afterward by firm 
 decree hath approved that planetary motion, that un- 
 blamable exorbitancy in them. 
 
 He means no good to either independent or presby- 
 terian, and yet his parable, like that of Balaam, is 
 overniled to portend them good, far beside his inten- 
 tion. Those twins, that strove enclosed in the womb 
 of Rebecca, were the seed of Abraham ; the younger 
 undoubtedly gained the heavenly birthright ; the el- 
 der, though supplanted in his simile, shall yet no ques- 
 tion find a better portion than Esau found, and far 
 above his uncircumcised prelates. 
 
 He censures, and in censuring seems to hope it will 
 be an ill omen, that they who build Jerusalem divided 
 their tongues and hands. But his hope failed him 
 with his example ; for that there were divisions both 
 of tongues and hands at the building of Jerusalem, the 
 story would have certified him ; and yet the work 
 prospered; and if God will, so may this, notwithstand- 
 ing all the craft and malignant wiles of Sanballat and 
 Tobiah, adding what fuel they can to our dissensions ; 
 or the indignity of his comparison, that likens us to 
 those seditious zealots, whose intestine fury brought 
 destruction to the last Jerusalem. 
 
 It being now no more in his hand to be revenged on 
 his opposers, he seeks to satiate his fancy with the 
 imao-ination of some revenge upon them from above; 
 and like one who in a drowth observes the sky, he sits 
 and watches Avhen any thing will drop, that might so- 
 lace him with the likeness of a punishment from Hea- 
 ven upon us ; which he straight expounds how he 
 pleases. No evil can befal the parliament or city, but 
 he positively interprets it a judgment upon them for 
 his sake : as if the very manuscript of God's judg- 
 ments had been delivered to his custody and exposition. 
 But his reading declares it well to be a false copy 
 which he uses ; dispensing often to his own bad deeds 
 and successes the testimony of divine favour, and to. 
 
828 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 the pood docils and successes of other men divine 
 wrath and venj^eance. But to counterfeit the band 
 of God, is the boldest of all forgery : And he who 
 without warrant, but his own fantastic surmise, 
 takes upon him perpetually to unfold the secret and 
 unsearchable mysteries of high providence, is likely 
 for the most part to mistake and slander them ; and 
 approaches to the madness of those reprobate thoughts, 
 that would wrest the sword of justice out of God's 
 hand, and employ it more justly in their own conceit. 
 It was a small thing, to contend with the parliament 
 about the sole power of the militia, when we see him 
 doing little less than laying hands on the weapons of 
 God himself, which are his judgments, to wield and 
 manage them by the sway and bent of bis own frail 
 cogitations. Therefore "they that by tumults first oc- 
 casioned the raising of armies "in bis doom must needs 
 " be chastened by their own army for new tumults." 
 
 First, note here his confession, that those tumults 
 were the first occasion of raising armies, and by con- 
 sequence that he himself raised them first, against those 
 supposed tumults. But who occasioned those tumults, 
 or who made them so, being at first nothing more than 
 the unarmed and peaceable concourse of people, hath 
 been discussed already. And thai those pretended tu- 
 mults were chastised by their own army for new tu- 
 mults, is not proved by a game at tic-tac with words ; 
 " tumults and armies, armies and tumults," but seems 
 more like the method of a justice irrational than divine. 
 
 If the city were chastened by the army for new tu- 
 mults, the reason is by himself set down evident and 
 immediate, " their new tumults." With what sense 
 can it be referred then to another far-fetched and ima- 
 ginary cause, that happened so many years before, and 
 in bis supposition only as a cause ? Manlius defended 
 the Capitol and the Romans from their enemies the 
 Gauls : Manlius for sedition afterward was by the Ro- 
 mans thrown headlong from the Capitol ; therefore 
 Manlius was punished by divine justice for defending 
 the Capitol, because in that place punished for sedi- 
 tion, and by those whom he defended. This is his logic 
 upon divine justice; and was the same before upon 
 the death of Sir John Hotham. And here again, " such 
 as were content to see him driven away by unsup- 
 pressed tumults, are now forced to fly to an army." 
 Was this a judgment? Was it not a mercy rather, that 
 they had a noble and victorious army so near at hand 
 to fly to ? 
 
 From God's justice he comes down to man's justice. 
 Those few of both houses, who at first withdrew with 
 him for the vain pretence of tumults, were counted de- 
 serters; therefore those many must be also deserters, 
 who withdrew afterwards from real tumults: as if it 
 were the place that made a parliament, and not the 
 end and cause. Because it is denied that those were 
 tumults, from which the king made shew of being 
 driven, is it therefore of necessity implied, that there 
 could be never any tumults for the future ? If some 
 men fly in craft, may not other men have cause to fly 
 in earnest ? But mark the difference between their 
 flight and his; they soon returned in safety to their 
 
 places, he not till after many years, and then a captive 
 to receive his punishment. So that their flying, whe- 
 ther the cause be considered, or the event, or both, 
 neither justified him, nor condemned themselves. 
 
 But he will needs have vengeance to pursue and 
 overtake them ; though to bring it in, it cost him an 
 inconvenient and obnoxious comparison, " As the mice 
 and rats overtook a German bishop." I wourld our 
 mice and rats had been as orthodoxal here, and had so 
 pursued all his bishops out of England ; then vermin 
 had rid away vermin, which now hath lost the lives of 
 too many thousand honest men to do. 
 
 " He cannot but observe this divine justice, yet with 
 sorrow and pity." But sorrow and pity in a weak and 
 overmastered enemy is looked upon no otherwise than 
 as the ashes of his revenge burnt out upon himself: or 
 as the damp of a cooled fury, when we say, it gives. 
 But in this manner to sit spelling and observing divine 
 justice upon every accident and slight disturbance, that 
 may happen humanly to the affairs of men, is but an- 
 other fragment of his broken revenge ; and yet the 
 shrewdest and the cunningest obloquy, that can be 
 thrown upon their actions. For if he can persuade i 
 men, that the parliament and their cause is pursued I 
 with divine vengeance, he hath attained his end, to 
 make all men forsake them, and think the worst that 
 can be thought of them. 
 
 Nor is he only content to suborn divine justice in his 
 censure of what is past, but he assumes the person ol 
 Christ himself, to prognosticate over us what he wish* 
 would come. So little is any thing or person sacreJ 
 from him, no not in heaven, which he will not use 
 and put on, if it may serve him plausibly to wreak hi 
 spleen, or ease his mind upon the parliament. Although, 
 if ever fatal blindness did both attend and punish wil- 
 fulness, if ever any enjoyed not comforts for neglecting 
 counsel belonging to their peace, it was in none mor« 
 conspicuously brought to pass than in himself: and hii 
 predictions against the parliament and their adherent 
 have for the most part been verified upon his own head, 
 and upon his chief counsellors. 
 
 He concludes with high praises of the army. Bui 
 praises in an enemy are superfluous, or smell of craft! 
 and the army shall not need his praises, nor the par- 
 liament fare worse for his accusing prayers that follow, 
 Wherein, as his charity can be no way comparable 
 that of Christ, so neither can his assurance, that thej 
 whom he seems to pray for, in doing what they did 
 against him, " knew not what they did." It was bul 
 arrogance therefore, and not charity, to lay such ignon 
 ance to others in the sight of God, till he himself hi 
 been infallible, like him whose peculiar words he ovec 
 weeningly assumes. 
 
 XXVII. Entitled, To the Prince of Wales. 
 
 What the king wrote to his son, as a father, con- 
 cerns not us ; what he wrote to him as a king of Eng< 
 land, concerns not him ; God and the parliament haviof 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 329 
 
 now otherwise disposed of England. But because I 
 see it done with some artifice and labour, to possess the 
 people, that they might amend their present condition, 
 by his, or by his son's restorement, I shall shew point 
 by point, that although the king had been reinstalled 
 to his desire, or that his son admitted should observe 
 exactly all his father's precepts, yet that this would be 
 so far from conducing to our happiness, either as a re- 
 medy to the present distempers, or a prevention of the 
 like to come, that it would inevitably throw us back 
 again into all our past and fulfilled miseries ; would 
 force us to fight over again all our tedious wars, and 
 put us to another fatal struggling for liberty and life, 
 more dubious than the former. In which, as our suc- 
 cess hath been no other than our cause ; so it will be 
 evident to all posterity, that his misfortunes were the 
 mere consequence of his perverse judgment. 
 
 First, he argues from the experience of those troubles, 
 which both he and his son have had, to the improvement 
 of their piety and patience ; and by the way bears 
 witness in his own words, that the corrupt education 
 of his youth, which was but glanced at only in some 
 former passages of this answer, was a thing neither of 
 mean consideration, nor untruly charged upon him or 
 his son : himself confessing here, that " court-delights 
 are prone either to root up all true virtue and honour, 
 or to be contented only with some leaves and withering 
 formalities of them, without any real fruits tending to 
 the public good." Which presents him still in his own 
 words another Rehoboam, softened by a far worse 
 court than Solomon's, and so corrupted by flatteries, 
 which he affirms to be unseparable, to the overturning 
 of all peace, and the loss of his own honour and king- 
 doms. That he came therefore thus bred up and nur- 
 tured to the throne far worse than Rehoboam, unless 
 he be of those who equalized his father to King Solomon, 
 we have here his own confession. And how voluptu- 
 ously, how idly reigning in the hands of other men, he 
 either tyrannized or trifled away those seventeen years 
 of peace, without care or thought, as if to be a king 
 had been nothing else in his apprehension, but to eat 
 and drink, and have his will, and take his pleasure; 
 though there be who can relate his domestic life to the 
 exactness of a diary, there shall be here no mention 
 made. This yet we might have then foreseen, that he 
 who spent his leisure so remissly and so corruptly to 
 Lis own pleasing, would one day or other be worse 
 busied and employed to our sorrow. And that he acted 
 in good earnest what Rehoboam did but threaten, to 
 make his little finger heavier than his father's loins, 
 and to whip us up with two-twisted scorpions, both 
 temporal and spiritual tyranny, all his kingdoms have 
 felt. What good use he made afterwards of his adver- 
 sity, both his impenitence and obstinacy to the end, (for 
 he was no Manasseh,) and the sequel of these his medi- 
 tated resolutions, abundantly express : retaining, com- 
 mending, teaching, to his son all those putrid and 
 pernicious documents both of state and of religion, in- 
 stilled by wicked doctors, and recei<*ed by him as in a 
 vessel nothing better seasoned, which were the first 
 occasion both of his own and all our miseries. And if 
 
 he, in the best maturity of his years and understanding, 
 made no better use to himself or others of his so long 
 and manifold afflictions, either looking up to God, or 
 looking down upon the reason of his own affairs ; 
 there can be no probability, that his son, bred up, not 
 in the soft eflTeminacies of a court only, but in the rug- 
 ged and more boisterous licence of undisciplined camps 
 and garrisons, for years unable to reflect with judgment 
 upon his own condition, and thus ill instructed by his 
 father, should give his mind to walk by any other rules 
 than these, bequeathed him as on his father's death-bed, 
 and as the choicest of all that experience, which his 
 most serious observation and retirement in good or evil 
 days bad taught him. David indeed, by suffering 
 without just cause, learned that meekness and that wis- 
 dom by adversity, which made him much the fitter man 
 to reign. But they who suffer as oppressors, tyrants, 
 violaters of law, and persecutors of reformation, with- 
 out appearance of repenting ; if they once get hold 
 again of that dignity and power, which they had lost, 
 are but whetted and enraged by what they suffered, 
 against those whom they look upon as them that caused 
 their sufferings. 
 
 How he hath been " subject to the sceptre of God's 
 word and spirit," though acknowledged to be the best 
 government; and what his dispensation of civil power 
 hath been, with what justice, and what honour to the 
 public peace ; it is but looking back upon the whole 
 catalogue of his deeds, and that will be sufficient to 
 remember us. " The cup of God's physic," as he calls 
 it, what alteration it wrought in him to a firm health- 
 fulness from any surfeit, or excess whereof the people 
 generally thought him sick, if any man would go about 
 to prove, we have his own testimony following here, 
 that it wrought none at all. 
 
 First, he hath the same fixed opinion and esteem of 
 his old Ephesiau goddess, called the Church of England, 
 as he had ever ; and charges strictly his son after him 
 to persevere in that antipapal schism, (for it is not much 
 better,) as that which will be necessary both for his soul's 
 and the kingdom's peace. But if this can be any foun- 
 dation of the kingdom's peace, which was the first cause 
 of our distractions, let common sense be judge. It is a 
 rule and principle worthy to be known by Christians, 
 that no scripture, no nor so much as any ancient creed, 
 binds our faith, or our obedience to any church what- 
 soever, denominated by a particular name ; far less, if 
 it be distinguished by a several government from that 
 which is indeed catholic. No man was ever bid be 
 subject to the church of Corinth, Rome, or Asia, but to 
 the church without addition, as it held faithful to the 
 rules of Scripture, and the government established in 
 all places by the apostles; which at first was uni- 
 versally the same in all churches and congregations; 
 not differing or distinguished by the diversity of coun- 
 tries, territories, or civil bounds. That church, that 
 from the name of a distinct place takes authority to set 
 up a distinct faith or government, is a schism and fac- 
 tion, not a church. It were an injury to condemn the 
 papist of absurdity and contradiction, for adhering to 
 his catholic Romish religion, if we, for the pleasure of 
 
330 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 a kins' ^^^ ^'^ politic considerations, shall adhere to a 
 catholic English. 
 
 But suppose the churcli of England were as it ought 
 to be, how is it to us the safer by being so named and 
 established, whenas that very name and establishment, 
 by this contriving, or approbation, served for nothing 
 else but to delude us and amuse us, while the church of 
 England insensibly was almost changed and translated 
 into the church of Rome. Which as every man knows 
 in general to be true, so the particular treaties and 
 transactions tending to that conclusion arc at large 
 discovered in a book entitled the " English Pope." 
 But when the people, discerning these abuses, began 
 to call for reformation, in order to which the parliament 
 demanded of the king to unestablish that prelatical 
 government, which without Scripture had usurped over 
 us ; straight as Pharaoh accused of idleness the Israel- 
 ites that sought leave to go and sacrifice to God, he 
 lays faction to their charge. And that we may not 
 hope to have ever any thing reformed in the church 
 either by him or his sou, he forewarns him, " that the 
 devil of rebellion doth most commonly turn himself 
 into an angel of reformation :" and says enough to 
 make him hate it, as the worst of evils, and the bane 
 of his crown : nay he counsels him to " let nothing 
 seem little or despicable to him, so as not speedily and 
 effectually to suppress errours and schisms." Whereby 
 we may perceive plainly, that our consciences were 
 destined to the same servitude and persecution, if not 
 worse than before, whether under him, or if it should 
 so happen, under his son ; who count all protestant 
 churches eiToneous and schismalical, which are not 
 episcopal. His next precept is concerning our civil 
 liberties; which by his sole voice and predominant 
 will must be circumscribed, and not permitted to ex- 
 tend a hand's breadth further than his interpretation of 
 the laws already settled. And although all human 
 laws are but the offspring of that frailty, that fallibility 
 and imperfection, which was in their authors, whereby 
 many laws in the change of ignorant and obscure ages, 
 may be found both scandalous, and full of grievance to 
 their posterity that made them, and no law is further 
 good than mutable upon just occasion ; yet if the re- 
 moving of an old law, or the making of a new, would 
 save the kingdom, we shall not have it, unless his arbi- 
 trary voice will so far slacken the stiff curb of his pre- 
 rogative, as to grant it us ; who are as freeborn to make 
 our own laws, as our fathers were, who made these we 
 have. Where are then the English liberties, which we 
 boast to have been left us by our progenitors ? To that 
 he answers, that " our liberties consist in the enjoy- 
 ment of the fruits of our industry, and the benefit of 
 those laws, to which we ourselves have consented." 
 First, for the enjoyment of those fruits, which our in- 
 dustry and labours have made our own upon our own, 
 what privilege is that above what the Turks, Jews, 
 and Moors enjoy under the Turkish monarchy ? For 
 without that kind of justice, which is also in Algiers, 
 among thieves and pirates between themselves, no 
 kind of government, no society, just or unjust, could 
 stand ; no combination or conspiracy could stick toge- 
 
 gethcr. Which he also acknowledges in these words : 
 " that if the crown upon his head be so heavy as to 
 oppress the whole body, the weakness of inferiour 
 members cannot return any thing of strength, honour, 
 or safety to the head ; but that a necessary debilitation 
 must follow." So that this liberty of this subject con- 
 cerns himself and the subsistence of his own regal 
 power in the first place, and before the consideration of 
 any right beloni^ing to the subject. We expect there- 
 fore something more, that must distinguish free go- 
 vernment from slavish. But instead of that, this 
 king, though ever talking and protesting as smooth as 
 now, suffered it in his own hearing to be preached 
 and pleaded without control or check, by them whom 
 he most favoured and upheld, that the subject had 
 no property of his own goods, but that all was the 
 king's right. 
 
 Next, for the " benefit of those laws, to which we 
 ourselves have consented," we never had it under him; 
 for not to speak of laws ill executed, when the parlia- 
 ment, and in them the people, have consented to divers 
 laws, and, according to our ancient rights, demanded 
 them, he took upon him to have a negative will, as the 
 transcendent and ultimate law above all our laws; and 
 to rule us forcibly by laws, to which we ourselves did 
 not consent, but complained of. Thus these two heads, 
 wherein the utmost of his allowance here will give our 
 liberties leave to consist, the one of them shall be so far 
 only made good to us, as may support his own interest 
 and crown from ruin or debilitation ; and so far Turkish 
 vassals enjoy as much liberty under Mahomet and the 
 Grand Signior : the other we neither yet have enjoyed 
 under him, nor were ever like to do under the tyranny 
 of a negative voice, which he claims above the unani- 
 mous consent and power of a whole nation, virtually in 
 the parliament. 
 
 In which negative voice to have been cast by the 
 doom of war, and put to death by those who vanquished 
 him in their own defence, he reckons to himself more 
 than a negative martyrdom. But martyrs bear witness 
 to the truth, not to themselves. If I bear witness of 
 myself, saith Christ, my witness is not true. He who 
 writes himself martyr by his own inscription, is like an 
 ill painter, who, by writing on a shapeless picture 
 which he hath drawn, is fain to tell passengers what 
 shape it is : which else no man could imagine : no 
 more than how a martyrdom can belong to him, who 
 therefore dies for his religion, because it is established. 
 Certainly if Agrippa had turned Christian, as he was 
 once turning, and had put to death scribes and Phari- 
 sees for observing the law of Moses, and refusing 
 Christianity, they had died a truer martyrdom. For 
 those laws were established by God and Moses, these 
 by no warrantable authors of religion, whose laws in 
 all other best reformed churches are rejected. And if 
 to die for an establishment of religion be martyrdom, 
 then Romish priests executed for that, which had so 
 many hundred years been established in this land, are 
 no worse martyrs than he. Lastly, if to die for the 
 testimony of his own conscience, be enough to make 
 him a martyr, what heretic dying for direct blasphemy, 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 331 
 
 as some have done constantly, may not boast a martyr- 
 dom ? As for the constitution or repeal of civil laws, 
 that power lying only in the parliament, which he by 
 the very law of his coronation was to grant them, not 
 to debar them, not to preserve a lesser law with the 
 contempt and violation of a greater ; it will conclude 
 him not so much as in a civil and metaphorical sense 
 to have died a martyr of our laws, but a plain trans- 
 gressor of them. And should the parliament, endued 
 with legislative power, make our laws, and be after to 
 dispute them piece-meal with the reason, conscience, 
 humour, passion, fancy, folly, obstinacy, or other ends 
 of one man, whose sole word and will shall baffle and 
 unmake what all the wisdom of a parliament hath 
 been deliberately framing ; what a ridiculous and con- 
 temptible thing a parliament would soon be, and what 
 a base unworthy nation we, who bo ist our freedom, 
 and send them with the manifest peril of their lives to 
 preserve it, they who are not marked by destiny for 
 slaves may apprehend ! In this servile condition to 
 have kept us still under hatches, he both resolves here 
 to the last, and so instructs his son. 
 
 As to those ofl'ered condescensions of a " charitable 
 connivance, or toleration," if we consider what went 
 before, and what follows, they moulder into nothing. 
 For, what with not sufToring ever so little to seem a 
 despicable schism, without effectual suppression, as he 
 warned him before, and what with no opposition of 
 law, government, or established religion to be permit- 
 ted, which is his following proviso, and wholly within 
 his own construction ; what a miserable and suspected 
 toleration, under spies and haunting promooters, we 
 should enjoy, is apparent. Besides that it is so far be- 
 neath the honour of a parliament and free nation, to 
 beg and supplicate the godship of one frail man, for 
 the bare and simple toleration of what they all consent 
 to be both just, pious, and best pleasing to God, while 
 that which is erroneous, unjust, and mischievous in 
 the church or state, shall by him alone against them 
 all be kept up and established, and they censured the 
 while for a covetous, ambitious, and sacrilegious fac- 
 tion, f 
 
 Another bait to allure the people is the charge he 
 lays upon his son to be tender of them. Which if we 
 should believe in part, because they are his herd, his 
 cattle, the stock upon his ground, as he accounts them, 
 whom to waste and destroy would undo himself, yet 
 the inducement, which he brings to move him, renders 
 the motion itself something suspicious. For if princes 
 need no palliations, as he tells his son, wherefore is it 
 that he himself hath so often used them ? Princes, of 
 all other men, have not more change of raiment in 
 their wardrobes, than variety of shifts and palliations 
 in their solemn actiugs and pretences to the people. 
 
 To try next if he can ensnare the prime men of those 
 who have opposed him, whom, more truly than his 
 meaning was, he calls the " patrons and vindicators of 
 the people," he gives out indemnity, and offers acts of 
 oblivion. But they who with a good conscience and 
 upright heart did their civil duties in the sight of God, 
 and in their several places, to resist tyranny and the 
 
 violence of supei-stition banded both against them, be 
 may be sure will never seek to be forgiven that, which 
 may be justly attributed to their immortal praise ; nor 
 will assent ever to the guilty blotting out of those ac- 
 tions before men, by which their faith assures them 
 they chiefly stand approved, and are had in remem- 
 brance before the throne of God. 
 
 He exhorts his son " not to study revenge." But 
 how far he, or at least they about him, iutendto follow- 
 that exhortation, was seen lately at the Hague, and 
 now lateliest at Madrid ; where to execute in the basest 
 manner, though but the smallest part of that savage 
 and barbarous revenge, which they do nothing else but 
 study and contemplate, they cared not to let the world 
 know them for professed traitors and assassinators of 
 all law both divine and human, even of that last and 
 most extensive law kept inviolable to public persons 
 among all fair enemies in the midst of uttermost defiance 
 and hostility. How implacable therefore they would be, 
 after any terms of closure or admittance for the future, 
 or any like opportunity given them hereafter, it will 
 be wisdom and our safety to believe rather, and prevent, 
 than to make trial. And it will concern the multitude, 
 thou«Th courted here, to take heed how they seek to 
 hide or colour their own fickleness and instability with 
 a bad repentance of their well-doing, and their fidelity 
 to the better cause ; to which at first so cheerfully and 
 conscientiously they joined themselves. 
 
 He returns again to extol the church of England, 
 and again requires his son by the joint authority of " a 
 father and a king, not to let his heart receive the least 
 check or disaffection against it." And not without 
 cause, for by that means, "having sole influence upon 
 the clergy, and they upon the people, after long search 
 and many disputes," he could not possibly find a more 
 compendious and politic way to uphold and settle ty- 
 ranny, than by subduing first the consciences of vulgar 
 men, with the insensible poison of their slavish doc- 
 trine: for then the body and besotted mind without 
 much reluctancy was likeliest to admit the yoke. 
 
 He commends also " parliaments held with freedom 
 and with honour." But I would ask how that can be, 
 while he only must be the sole free person in that num- 
 ber ; and would have the power with his unaccountable 
 denial, to dishonour them by rejecting all their coun- 
 sels, to confine their lawgiving power, which is the 
 foundation of our freedom, and to change at his plea- 
 sure the very name of a parliament into the name of a 
 faction. 
 
 The conclusion therefore must needs be quite con- 
 trary to what he concludes ; that nothing can be more 
 unhappy, more dishonourable, more unsafe for all, than 
 when a wise, grave, and honourable parliament shall 
 have laboured, debated, argued, consulted, and, as he 
 himself speaks, " contributed" for the public good all 
 their counsels in common, to be then frustrated, disap- 
 pointed, denied and repulsed by the single whifT of a 
 negative, from the mouth of one wilful man ; nay, to 
 be blasted, to be struck as mute and motionless as a 
 parliament of tapestry in the hangings ; or else after 
 all their pains and travel to be dissolved, and cast away 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 like so many noug'hts in arithmetic, unless it he to 
 turn the O of tlieir insignificance into a lamentation 
 with the people, who had so vainly sent them. For 
 this is not to " enact all things by public consent," as 
 he would have us be persuaded, this is to enact nothing 
 but by the private consent and leave of one not nega- 
 tive tyrant; this is mischief without remedy, a stifling 
 and obstructing evil that hath no vent, no outlet, no 
 passage through : grant him this, and the parliament 
 bath no more freedom than if it sate in his noose, which 
 when he pleases to draw together with one twitch of 
 bis negative, shall throttle a whole nation, to the wish 
 of Caligula, in one neck. This with the power of the 
 militia in his own hands over our bodies and estates, 
 and the prelates to enthral our consciences either by 
 fraud or force, is the sum of that happiness and liberty 
 we were to look for, whether in his own restitution, or 
 in these precepts given to his son. Which unavoidably 
 would have set us in the same state of misery, wherein 
 we were before ; and have either compelled us to sub- 
 mit like bondslaves, or put us back to a second wan- 
 dering over that horrid wilderness of distraction and 
 civil slaughter, which, not without the strong and 
 miraculous hand of God assisting us, we have mea- 
 sured out, and survived. And who knows, if we make 
 so slight of this incomparable deliverance, which God 
 bath bestowed upon us, but that we shall, like those 
 foolisli Israelites, who deposed God and Samuel to set 
 up a king, " cry out" one day, " because of our king," 
 which we have been mad upon ; and then God, as he 
 foretold them, will no more deliver us. 
 
 There remains now but little more of his discourse, 
 whereof to take a short view will not be amiss. His 
 words make semblance as if he were magnanimously 
 exercising himself, and so teaching his son, " to want 
 as well as to wear a crown ;" and would seem to account 
 it "not worth taking up or enjoying, upon sordid, 
 dishonourable, and irreligious terms ;" and yet to his 
 Tery last did nothing more industriously, than strive to 
 take up and enjoy again his sequestered crown, upon 
 the most sordid, disloyal, dishonourable, and irreligious 
 terms, not of making peace only, but of joining and in- 
 corporating with the murderous Irish, formerly by him- 
 self declared against, for "wicked and detestable rebels, 
 odious to God and all good men." And who but those 
 rebels now are the chief strength and confidence of his 
 son ? While the presbyter Scot that woos and solicits 
 bim, is neglected and put off, as if no terms were to 
 bim sordid, irreligious, and dishonourable, but the Scot- 
 tish and presbyterian, never to be complied with, till 
 the fear of instant perishing starve him out at length to 
 some unsound and hypocritical agreement. 
 
 He bids his son " keep to the true principles of piety, 
 virtue, and honour, and he shall never want a king- 
 dom." And I say, people of England ! keep ye to 
 those principles, and ye shall never want a king. Nay, 
 after such a fair deliverance as this, with so much for- 
 titude and valour shewn against a tyrant, that people 
 that sliould seek a king, claiming what this man claims, 
 would shew themselves to be by nature slaves, and ar- 
 rant beasts ; not fit for that liberty, which they cried 
 
 out and bellowed for, but fitter to be led back again 
 into their old servitude, like a sort of clamouring and 
 fighting brutes, broke loose from their copy-holds, that; 
 know not how to use or possess the liberty which thejr 
 fought for; but with the fair words and promises ofaa; 
 old exasperated foe, are ready to be stroked and tamed , 
 again, into the wonted and well-pleasing state of their 
 true Norman villanage, to them best agreeable. 
 
 The last sentence, whereon he seems to venture 
 the whole weight of all his former reasons and argu- i 
 mentations, " That religion to their God, and loyalty 
 to their king, cannot be parted, without the sin and in- 
 felicity of a people," is contrary to the plain teaching 
 of Christ, that " No man can serve two masters ; but, if 
 he hold to the one, he must reject and forsake the 
 other." If God, then, and earthly kings be for the 
 most part not several only, but opposite masters, it will 
 as oft happen, that they who will serve their king must 
 forsake their God ; and they who will serve God mus.t 
 forsake their king ; which then will neither be their sin, 
 nor their infelicity ; but their wisdom, their piety, and 
 their true happiness ; as to be deluded by these unsound 
 and subtle ostentations here, would be their misery; 
 and in all likelihood much greater than what they 
 hitherto have undergone : if now again intoxicatet^ 
 and moped with these royal, and therefore so delicioi 
 because royal, rudiments of bondage, the cup o| 
 deception, spiced and tempered to their bane, the] 
 should deliver up themselves to these glozing wordi 
 and illusions of him, whose rage and utmost violenc 
 they have sustained, and overcome so nobly. 
 
 XXVIII. Entitled Meditationt upon Death. 
 
 It might be well thought by him, who reads no fup 
 ther than the title of this last essay, that it required n« 
 answer. For all other human things are disputed, am 
 will be variously thought of to the world's end. Bui 
 this business of death is a plain case, and admits n< 
 controversy : in that centre all opinions meet. Never 
 theiess, since out of those few mortifying hours, thai 
 should have been intirest to themselves, and most a) 
 peace from all passion and disquiet, he can afford span 
 time to inveigh bitterly against that justice which wai 
 done upon him ; it will be needful to say something ii 
 defence of those proceedings, thougii briefly, in regar* 
 so much on this subject hath been written lately. 
 
 It happened once, as we find in Esdras and Jos© 
 phus, authors not less believed than any under sacred 
 to be a great and solemn debate in the court of Darius 
 what thing was to be counted strongest of all other, 
 He that could resolve this, in reward of bis excelleni 
 wistlom, should be clad in purple, drink in gold, slee| 
 on a bed of gold, and sit next Darius. None but thej 
 doubtless who were reputed ^wise, had the questioi 
 propounded to them : who after some respite givei 
 them by the king to consider, in full assembly of all 
 his lords and gravest counsellors, returned severallj 
 what they thought. The first held, that wine wai 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 333 
 
 strongest, another that the king- was strongest. But 
 Zorobabel prince of the captive Jews, and heir to the 
 crown of Judah, being one of them, proved women to 
 be stronger than the king, for that he himself had seen 
 a concubine take his crown from off his head to set it 
 upon her own : and others besides him have likewise 
 seen the like feat done, and not in jest. Yet he proved 
 on, and it was so yielded by the king himself, and all 
 his sag^es, that neither wine, nor women, nor the king, 
 but truth of all other things was the strongest. For 
 me, though neither asked, nor in a nation that gives 
 such rewards to wisdom, I shall pronounce my sen- 
 tence somewhat different from Zorobabel ; and shall 
 defend that either truth and justice are all one, (for 
 truth is but justice in our knowledge, and justice is but 
 truth in our practice ; and he indeed so explains him- 
 self, in saying that with truth is no accepting of per- 
 sons, which is the property of justice,) or else if there 
 be any odds, that justice, though not stronger than 
 truth, yet by her office is to put forth and exhibit more 
 strength in the affaire of mankind. For truth is pro- 
 perly no more than contemplation ; and her utmost ef- 
 ficiency is but teaching: but justice in her very es- 
 sence is all streng-th and activity ; and hath a sword 
 put into her hand, to use against all violence and op- 
 pression on the earth. She it is most truly, who ac- 
 cepts no person, and exempts none from the severity of 
 her stroke. She never suffers injury to prevail, but 
 when falsehood first prevails over truth ; and that also 
 is a kind of justice done on them who are so deluded. 
 Though wicked kings and tyrants counterfeit her 
 sword, as some did that buckler, fabled to fall from 
 heaven into the capitol, yet she communicates her 
 power to none but such as like herself are just, or at 
 least will do justice. For it were extreme partiality 
 and injustice, the flat denial and overthrow of herself, 
 to put her own authentic sword into the hand of an un- 
 just and wicked man, or so far to accept and exalt one 
 mortal person above his equals, that he alone shall 
 have the punishing of all other men transg^ressing, 
 and not receive like punishment from men, when he 
 himself shall be found the highest transgressor. 
 
 We may conclude therefore, that justice, above all 
 other things, is and ought to be the strongest : she is 
 the strength, the kingdom, the power, and majesty of 
 all ages. Truth herself would subscribe to this, though 
 Darius and all the monarchs of the world should deny. 
 And if by sentence thus written, it were my happiness 
 to set free the minds of Englishmen from longing- to 
 return poorly under that captivity of kings, from which 
 the strength and supreme sword of justice hath de- 
 livered them, I shall have done a work not much infe- 
 riour to that of Zorobabel : who by well praising and 
 extolling the force of truth, in that contemplative 
 strength conquered Darius; and freed his country and 
 the people of God, from the captivity of Babylon. 
 Which I shall yet not despair to do, if they in this 
 land, whose minds are yet captive, be but as ingenu- 
 ous to acknowledge the strength and supremacy of 
 justice, as that heathen king was to confess the strength 
 of truth : or let them but, as he did, grant that, and 
 
 they will soon perceive, that truth resigns all her out- 
 ward strength to justice : justice therefore must needs 
 be strongest, both in her own, and in the strength of 
 truth. But if a king may do among men whatsoever 
 is his will and pleasure, and notwithstanding be unac- 
 countable to men, then contrary to his magnified wis- 
 dom of Zorobabel, neither truth nor justice, but the 
 king, is strongest of all other things, which that Persian 
 monarch himself, in the midst of all his pride and glory, 
 durst not assume. 
 
 Let us see therefore what this king hath to affirm, 
 why the sentence of justice, and the weight of tliat 
 sword, which she delivers into the hands of men, should 
 be more partial to him offending, than to all others of 
 human race. First, he pleads, that " no law of God or 
 man gives to subjects any power of judicature without 
 or against him." Which assertion shall be proved in 
 every part to be most untrue. The first express law of 
 God given to mankind was that to Noah, as a law, in 
 general, to all the sons of men. And by that most an- 
 cient and universal law, " Whosoever sheddeth man's 
 blood, by man shall his blood be shed ;" we find here 
 no exception. If a king therefore do this, to a king, 
 and that by men also, the same shall be done. This 
 in the law of Moses, which came next, several times 
 is repeated, and in one place remarkably, Numb. 
 xxxT. " Ye shall take no satisfaction for the life of 
 a murderer, but he shall surely be put to death : the 
 land cannot be cleansed of the blood that is shed 
 therein, but by the blood of him that shed it." This 
 is so spoken as that which concerned all Israel, not 
 one man alone, to see performed ; and if no satis- 
 faction were to be taken, then certainly no exception. 
 Nay the king, when they should set up any, was to 
 observe the whole law, and not only to see it done, 
 but to "do it ; that his heart might not be lifted up 
 above his brethren ;" to dream of vain and useless pre- 
 rogatives or exemptions, whereby the law itself must 
 needs be founded in unrighteousness. 
 
 And were that true, which is most false, that all kings 
 are the Lord's anointed, it were yet absurd to think 
 that the anointment of God should be, as it wei-e, a 
 charm against law, and give them privilege, who punish 
 others, to sin themselves unpunishably. The high 
 priest was the Lord's anointed as well as any king, and 
 with the same consecrated oil : yet Solomon had put 
 to death Abiathar, had it not been for other respects 
 than that anointment. If God himself say to kings, 
 " touch not mine anointed," meaning his chosen people, 
 as is evident in that psalm, yet no man will argue 
 thence, that he protects them from civil laws if they 
 offend ; then certainly, though David as a private man, 
 and in his own cause, feared to lift his hand against 
 the Lord's anointed, much less can this forbid the law, 
 or disarm justice from having legal power against any 
 king. No other supreme magistrate, in what kind of 
 government soever, lays claim to any such enormous 
 privilege; wherefore then should any king, who is but 
 one kind of magistrate, and set over the people for no 
 other end than they ? 
 
 Next in order of time to the laws of Moses are those 
 
334 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 of Christ, who declares professedly his judicature to be 
 spiritual, abstract from civil maiiag'ements, and there- 
 fore leaves all nations to their own particular laws, and 
 way of {government. Yet because the church hath a 
 kind of jurisdiction within her own bounds, and that 
 also, thoug'h in process of time much corrupted and 
 plainly turned into a corporal judicature, yet much 
 approved by this king^; it will be firm enough and valid 
 against him, if subjects, by the laws of church also, be 
 " invested with a power of judicature" both without 
 and against their king, though pretending, and by 
 them acknowledged, " next and immediately under 
 Christ supreme head and governor." Theodosius, one 
 of the best christian emperors, having made a slaughter 
 of the Thessalonians for sedition, but too cruelly, w-as 
 excommunicated to his face by St. Ambrose, who was 
 bis subject; and excommunion is the utmost of eccle- 
 siastical judicature, a spiritual putting to death. But 
 this, ye will say, was only an example. Read then 
 the story; and it will appear, both that Ambrose 
 avouched it for the law of God, and Theodosius con- 
 fessed it of his own accord to be so ; " and that the law 
 of God was not to be made void in him, for any rever- 
 ence to his imperial power." From hence, not to be 
 tedious, I shall pass into our own land of Britain ; and 
 shew that subjects here have exercised the utmost of 
 spiritual judicature, and more than spiritual, against 
 their kings, his predecessors. Vortiger, for committing 
 incest with his daughter, was by St. German, at that 
 time his subject, cursed and condemned in a British 
 counsel about the year 448 ; and thereupon soon after 
 was deposed. Mauricus, a king in Wales, for breach 
 of oath and the murder of Cynetus, was excommuni- 
 cated and cursed, with all his offspring, by Oudoceus 
 bishop of Llandaff in full synod, about the year 560; 
 and not restored, till he had repented. Morcant, an- 
 other king in Wales, having slain Frioc his uncle, was 
 fain to come in person, and receive judgment from the 
 same bishop and his clergy ; who upon his penitence 
 acquitted him, for no other cause than lest the kingdom 
 should be destitute of a successor in the royal line. 
 These examples are of the primitive, British, and epis- 
 copal church ; long ere they had any commerce or 
 communion with the church of Rome. What power 
 afterwards of deposing kings, and so consequently of 
 putting them to death, was assumed and practised by 
 the canon law, I omit, as a thing generally known. 
 Certainly, if whole councils of the Romish church have 
 in the midst of their dimness discerned so much of truth, 
 as to decree at Constance, and at Basil, and many of 
 them to avouch at Trent also, that a council is above 
 the pope, and maj' judge him, though by them not de- 
 nied to be the vicar of Christ ; we in our clearer light 
 may be ashamed not to discern further, that a parlia- 
 ment is by all equity and right above a king, and may 
 judge him, whose reasons and pretensions to hold of 
 God only, as his immediate vicegerent, we know how 
 far fetched they are, and insufficient. 
 
 As for the laws of man, it would ask a volume to 
 repeat all that might be cited in this point against him 
 from all antiquity. In Greece, Orestes, the son of 
 
 Agamemnon, and by succession king of Argos, was in 
 that country judged and condemned to death for kill- 
 ing his mother: whence escaping, he was judged again, 
 though a stranger, before the great council of Areopa- 
 gus in Athens. And this memorable act of judicature 
 was the first, that brought the justice of that grave 
 senate into fame and high estimation over all Greece 
 for many ages after. And in the same city, tyrants 
 were to undergo legal sentence by the laws of Solon. 
 The kings of Sparta, though descended lineally from 
 Hercules, esteemed a god among them, were often 
 judged, and sometimes put to death, by the roost just 
 and renowned laws of Lycurgus ; who, though a king, 
 thought it most unequal to bind his subjects by any 
 law, to which he bound not himself, In Rome, the 
 laws made by Valerius Publicola, soon after the expel- 
 ling of Tarquin and his race, expelled without a writ- 
 ten law, the law being afterward written ; and what 
 the senate decreed against Nero, that he should be 
 judged and punished according to the laws of their 
 ancestors, and what in like manner was decreed against 
 other emperors, is vulgarly known ; as it was known 
 to those heathen, and found just by nature ere any law j 
 mentioned it. And that the christian civil law war- 
 rants like power of judicature to subjects against 
 tyrants, is written clearly by the best and famousestf 
 civilians. For if it was decreed by Theodosius, and^ 
 stands yet firm in the code of Justinian, that the la\ 
 is above the emperor, then certainly the emperor being 
 under law, the law may judge him ; and if judge him, 
 may punish him, proving tyrannous : how else is the 
 law above him, or to what purpose ? These are neces- 
 sary deductions; and thereafter hath been done in all 
 ages and kingdoms, oftener than to be here recited. 
 
 But what need we any further search after the law 
 of other lands, for that which is so fully and so plainly 
 set down lawful in our own ? Where ancient books tell 
 us, Bracton, Fleta, and othei-s, that the king is under 
 law, and inferiour to his court of parliament ; that al- 
 though his place " to do justice" be highest, yet that 
 he stands as liable " to receive justice" as the meanest 
 of his kingdom. Nay, Alfred the most worthy king, 
 and by some accounted first absolute monarch of the 
 Saxons here, so ordained ; as is cited out of an ancient 
 law-book called " the Mirror;" in " rights of the king- 
 dom," p. 31, where it is complained on, " as the sove- 
 reign abuse of all," that " the king should be deemed 
 above the law, whereas he ought to be the subject to 
 it by his oath." Of which oath anciently it was the 
 last clause, that the king " should be as liable, and 
 obedient to suffer right, as others of his people." And 
 indeed it were but fond and senseless, that the king 
 should be accountable to every petty suit in lesser 
 courts, as we all know he was, and not be subject 
 to the judicature of parliament in the main matters of 
 our common safety or destruction ; that he should be 
 answerable in the ordinary course of law for any wrong 
 done to a private person, and not answerable in court 
 of parliament for destroying the whole kingdom. By 
 all this, and much more that might be added, as in an 
 argument over-copious rather than barren, we see it 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASJLIKE. 
 
 335 
 
 maiiifest that all laws, both of God and man, are made 
 without exemption of any person whomsoever; and 
 that if kings presume to overtop the law by which 
 they rcigfu for the public {•ood, they are by law to be 
 reduced into order ; and that can no way be more 
 justly, than by those who exalt them to that high place. 
 For who should better understand their own laws, and 
 when they are transgrest, than they who are governed 
 by them, and whose consent first made them ? And 
 M'ho can have more right to take knowledge of things 
 done within a free nation, than they within them- 
 selves ? 
 
 Those objected oaths of allegiance and supremacy 
 we swore, not to his person, but as it was invested 
 with his authority ; and his authority was by the people 
 first given him conditionally, in law, and under law, 
 and under oath also for the kingdom's good, and not 
 otherwise; the oaths then were interchanged, and mu- 
 tual; stood and fell together; he swore fidelity to his 
 trust; (not as a deluding ceremony, but as a real con- 
 dition of their admitting him for king; and the con- 
 queror himself swore it oftener than at his crowning;) 
 they swore homage and fealty to his person in that 
 trust. There was no reason why the kingdom should 
 be further bound by oaths to him, than he by his coro- 
 nation oath to us, which he bath every way broken : 
 and having broken, the ancient crown oath of Alfred 
 above mentioned conceals not his penalty. 
 
 As for the covenant, if that be meant, certainly no 
 discreet person can imagine it should bind us to him in 
 any stricter sense than those oaths formerly. The acts 
 of hostility, which we received from him, were no such 
 dear obligements, that we should owe him more fealty 
 and defence for being our enemy, than we could 
 before when we took him only for a king. They 
 M'ere accused by him and his party, lo pretend liberty 
 and reformation, but to have no other end than to 
 make themselves great, and to destroy the king's per- 
 son and authority. For which reason they added that 
 third article, testifying to the world, that as they were 
 resolved to endeavour first a reformation in the church, 
 to e.xtirpate prelacy, to preserve the rights of parlia- 
 ment, and the liberties of the kingdom, so they intend- 
 ed, so far as it might consist with the preservation and 
 defence of these, to preserve the king's person and au- 
 thority ; but not otherwise. As far as this comes to, 
 the}' covenant and swear in the sixth article, to pre- 
 serve and defend the persons and authority of one an- 
 other, and all those that enter into that league ; so that 
 this covenant gives no unlimitable exemption to the 
 king's pereon, but gives to all as much defence and 
 preservation as to him, and to him as much as to their 
 own persons, and no more ; that is to say, in order and 
 subordination to those main ends, for which we live 
 and are a nation of men joined in society either chris- 
 tian, or at least human. But if the covenant were 
 made absolute, to preserve and defend any one whom- 
 soever, without resj)ect had, either to the true religion, 
 or those other superiour things to be defended and pre- 
 served however, it cannot then be doubted, but that the 
 covenant was rather a most foolish, hasty, and unlaw- 
 
 ful vow, than a deliberate and well-weighed covenant; 
 swearing us into labyrinths and repugnances, no way 
 to be solved or reconciled, and therefore no way to be 
 kept ; as first offending against the law of God, to vow 
 the absolute preservation, defence, and maintaining of 
 one man, though in his sins and oflences never so great 
 and heinous against God or his neighbour; and to ex- 
 cept a person from justice, whereas his law excepts 
 none. Secondly,- it oflfends against the law of this na- 
 tion, wherein, as hath been proved, kings in receiving 
 justice, and undergoing due trial, are not differenced 
 from the meanest subject. Lastly, it contradicts and 
 offends against the covenant itself, which vows in the 
 fourth article to bring to open trial and condign punish- 
 ment all those that shall be found guilty of such crimes 
 and delinquencies, whereof the king, by his own letters 
 and other undeniable testimonies not brought to light 
 till afterward, was found and convicted to be chief 
 actor in what they thought him, at the time of taking 
 that covenant, to be overruled only by evil counsellors; 
 and those, or whomsoever they should discover to be 
 principal, they vowed to try, either by their own " su- 
 preme judicatories," (for so even then they called them,) 
 " or by others having power from them to that effect." 
 So that to have brought the king to condign punish- 
 ment hath not broke the covenant, but it would have 
 broke the covenant to have saved him from those judi- 
 catories, which both nations declared in that covenant to 
 be supreme against any person whatsoever. And besides 
 all this, to swear in covenant the bringing of his evil 
 counsellors and accomplices to condign punishment, and 
 not only to leave unpunished and untouched the grand 
 offTender, but to receive him back again from the accom- 
 plishment of so many violences and mischiefs, dipped 
 from head to foot, and stained over with the blood of 
 thousands that were bis faithful subjects, forced to their 
 own defence against a civil war by him first raised 
 upon them; and to receive him thus, in this gory pickle, 
 to all his dignities and honours, covering the igno- 
 minious and horrid purple robe of innocent blood, that 
 sat so close about him, with the glorious purple of 
 royalty and supreme rule, the reward of highest excel- 
 lence and virtue here on earth ; were not only to swear 
 and covenant the performance of an unjust vow, the 
 strangest and most impious to the face of God, but 
 were the most unwise and unprudential act as to civil 
 government. For so long as a king shall find by ex- 
 perience, that, do the worst he can, his subjects, over- 
 awed by the religion of their own covenant, will only 
 prosecute his evil instruments, not dare to touch his 
 person ; and that whatever hath been on his part of- 
 fended or transgressed, he shall come off at last with 
 the same reverence to his person, and the same honour 
 as for well doing, he will not fail to find them work ; 
 seeking far and near, and inviting to his court all the 
 concourse of evil counsellors, or agents, that may be 
 found : who, tempted with preferments and his promise 
 to uphold them, will hazard easily their own heads, 
 and the chance of ten to one but they shall prevail at 
 last, over men so quelled and fitted to be slaves by the 
 false conceit of a religious covenant. And they in that 
 
336 
 
 AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE 
 
 superstition neither wholly yielding', nor to the utmost 
 resisting, at the upshot of all their foolish war and ex- 
 pense, will find to have done no more but fetched a 
 compass only of their miseries, ending at the same 
 point of slavery, and in the same distractions wherein 
 they first begun. But when kings tliemselves are 
 made as liable to punishment as their evil counsellors, 
 it will be both as dangerous from the king himself as 
 from his parliament, to those that evil counsel him : 
 and they, who else would be his readiest agents in evil, 
 will then not fear to dissuade or to disobey him, not 
 only in respect of themselves and their own lives, which 
 for his sake they would not seem to value, but in respect 
 of that danger which the king himself may incur, whom 
 they w ould seem to love and serve with greatest fidelity. 
 On all these gfrounds therefore of the covenant itself, 
 whether religious or political, it appears likeliest, that 
 both the English parliament and the Scotch commis- 
 sioners, thus interpreting the covenant, (as indeed at 
 that time they were the best and most authentical in- 
 terpreters joined together,) answered the king unani- 
 mously, in their letter dated January the 13th, 1645, 
 that till security and satisfaction first given to both 
 kingdoms for the blood spilled, for the Irish rebels 
 brought over, and for the war in Ireland by him fo- 
 mented, they could in nowise yield their consent to his 
 return. Here was satisfaction, full two years and up- 
 ward after the covenant taken, demanded of the king 
 by both nations in parliament for crimes at least capital, 
 wherewith they charged him. And what satisfaction 
 could be given for so much blood, but justice upon 
 him that spilled it ? till which done, they neither took 
 themselves bound to grant him the exercise of his regal 
 office by any meaning of the covenant which they then 
 declared, (though other meanings have been since con- 
 trived,) nor so much regarded the safety of his person, 
 as to admit of his return among them from the midst 
 of those whom they declared to be his greatest enemies; 
 nay from himself as from an actual enemy, not as from 
 a king, they demanded security. But if the covenant, 
 all this notwithstanding, swore otherwise to preserve 
 him that in the preservation of true religion and our 
 liberties, against which he fought, if not in amis, yet 
 in resolution, to his dying day, and now after death still 
 fights again in this his book, the covenant was better 
 broken, than he saved. And God hath testified by all 
 propitious and the most evident sign, whereby in these 
 latter times he is wont to testify what pleases him, that 
 such a solemn and for many ages unexampled act of 
 due punishment was no mockery of justice, but a most 
 grateful and well-pleasing sacrifice. Neither was it to 
 cover their perjury, as he accuses, but to uncover his 
 perjury to the oath of his coronation. 
 
 The rest of his discourse quite forgets the title ; and 
 turns his meditations upon death into obloquy and bitter 
 vehemence against his "judges and accusers;" imitat- 
 ing therein, not our Saviour, but his grandmother Mary 
 queen of Scots, as also in the most of his other scruples, 
 exceptions, and evasions ; and from whom he seems to 
 have learnt, as it were by heart, or else by kind, that 
 which is thought by bis admirers to be the most vir- 
 
 tuous, most manly, most christian, and most martyr- 
 like, both of his words and speeches here, and of his 
 answers and behaviour at his trial. 
 
 " It is a sad fate," he saith, " to have his enemies 
 both accusers, parties, and judges." Sad indeed, but 
 no sufficient plea to acquit him from being so judged. 
 For what malefactor might not sometimes plead the 
 like ? If his own crimes have made all men his ene- 
 mies, who else can judge him.'' They of the powder- 
 plot against his father might as well have pleaded the 
 same. Nay, at the resurrection it may as well be 
 pleaded, that the saints, who then shall judge the world, 
 are "both enemies, judges, parties, and accusers." 
 
 So much he thinks to abound in his own defence, 
 that he undertakes an unmeasurable task, to bespeak 
 " the singular care and protection of God over all 
 kings," as being the greatest patrons of law, justice, 
 order, and religion on earth. But what patrons they 
 be, God in the Scripture oft enough hath expressed ; 
 and the earth itself hath too long groaned under the 
 burden of their injustice, disorder, and irreligion. 
 Therefore "to bind their kings in chains, and their no- 
 bles with links of iron," is an honour belonging to his 
 saints ; not to build Babel, (which was Nimrod's work, 
 the fii-st king, and the beginning of his kingdom was 
 Babel,) but to destroy it, especially that spiritual Babel : 
 and first to overcome those European kings, which re- 
 ceive their power, not from God, but from the beast ; 
 and are counted no better than his ten horns. " These 
 shall hate the great whore," and yet " shall give 
 their kingdoms to the beast that carries her ; they 
 shall commit fornication with her," and yet " shall 
 bum her with fire," and yet " shall lament the fall of 
 Babylon," where they fornicated with her. Revela- 
 tions chap. xvii. and xviii. 
 
 Thus shall they be to and fro, doubtful and ambigu- 
 ous in all their doings, until at last, " joining their 
 armies with the beast," whose power first raised theni) 
 they shall perish with him by the " King of kings," 
 against whom they have rebelled ; and " the fowls 
 shall eat their flesh." This is their doom written, Ilev. 
 xix. and the utmost that we find concerning them in 
 these latter days ; which we have much more cause to 
 believe, than his unwarranted revelation here, prophe- 
 sying what shall follow after his death, with the spirit 
 of enmity, not of St. John. 
 
 He would fain bring us out of conceit with the good 
 success, which God hath vouchsafed us. We measure 
 not our cause by our success, but our success by our 
 cause. Yet certainly in a good cause success is a good 
 confirmation; for God hath promised it to good men 
 almost in every leaf of Scripture. If it argue not for 
 us, we are sure it argues not against us ; but as much 
 or more for us, than ill success argues for them ; for to 
 the wicked God hath denounced ill success in all tfaey 
 take in hand. 
 
 He hopes much of those " softer tempers," as he 
 calls them, and " less advantaged by his ruin, that their 
 consciences do already" gripe them. It is true, there 
 be a sort of moody, hotbraiiicd, and always unedificd 
 consciences ; apt to engage their leaders into great and 
 
AN ANSWER TO EIKON BASILIKE. 
 
 337 
 
 dangerous affairs past retirement, and then upon a 
 sudden qualm and swimming of their conscience, to 
 betray them basely in the midst of what was chiefly 
 undertaken for their sakes.* Let such men never meet 
 with any faithful parliament to hazard for them; never 
 with any noble spirit to conduct and lead them out ; 
 but let them live and die in servile condition and their 
 scrupulous queasiness, if no instruction will confirm 
 them ! Others there be, in whose consciences the loss 
 of gain, and those advantages they hoped for, hath 
 sprung a sudden leak. These are they that cry out, 
 the covenant broken ! and to keep it better slide back 
 into neutrality, or join actually with incendiaries and 
 malignants. But God hath eminently begun to punish 
 those, first in Scotland, then in Ulster, who have pro- 
 voked him with the most hateful kind of mockery, to 
 break his covenant under pretence of strictest keeping 
 it ; and hath subjected them to those malignants, with 
 whom they scrupled not to be associates. In God 
 therefore we shall not fear what their false fraternity 
 can do against us. 
 
 He seeks again with cunning words to turn our suc- 
 cess into our sin. But might call to mind, that the 
 Scripture speaks of those also, who " when God slew 
 them, then sought him ;" yet did but " flatter him with 
 their mouth, and lyed to him with their tongues ; for 
 their heart was not right with him." And there was 
 one, who in the time of his affliction trespassed more 
 against God. This was that king Ahaz. 
 
 He glories much in the forgiveness of his enemies ; 
   A severe rebuke this to the Preebytcrians. 
 
 so did his grandmother at her death. Wise men would 
 sooner have believed him, had he not so often told us 
 so. But he hopes to erect " the trophies of his charity 
 over us." And trophies of charity no doubt will be as 
 glorious as trumpets before the alms of hypocrites; and 
 more especially the trophies of such an aspiring charity, 
 as offers in his prayer to share victory with God's com- 
 passion, which is over all his works. Such prayers as 
 these may haply catch the people, as was intended : 
 but how they please God is to be much doubted, though 
 prayed in secret, much less written to be divulged. 
 Which perhaps may gain him after death a short, con- 
 temptible, and soon fading reward ; not what he aims 
 at, to stir the constancy and solid firmness of any wise 
 man, or to unsettle the conscience of any knowing 
 Christian, (if he could ever aim at a thing so hopeless, 
 and above the genius of his cleric elocution,) but to 
 catch the worthless approbation of an inconstant, irra- 
 tional, and image-doting rabble ; that like a credulous 
 and hapless herd, begotten to servility, and enchanted 
 with these popular institutes of tyranny, subscribed 
 with a new device of the king's picture at his prayers, 
 hold out both their ears with such delight and ravish- 
 ment to be stigmatized and bored through, in witness 
 of their own voluntary and beloved baseness. The 
 rest, whom perhaps ignorance without malice, or some 
 errour, less than fatal, hath for the time misled, on this 
 side sorcery or obduration, may find the grace and good 
 guidance, to bethink themselves and recover. 
 
DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 IN ANSTTRR TO 
 
 SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING.* 
 
 (first fvblishkd IG92.] 
 
 THE PREFACE. 
 
 Although I fear, lest, if in defending- the people of England, I should be as copious in words, and empty of 
 matter, as most men think Salraasius has been in his defence of the king, T might seem to deserve justly to be 
 accounted a verbose and silly defender; yet since no man thinks himself obliged to make so much haste, 
 though in the handling but of any ordinary subject, as not to premise some introduction at least, according as 
 the weight of the subject requires ; if I take the same course in handling almost the greatest subject that ever 
 was (without being too tedious in it) I am in hopes of attaining two things, which indeed I earnestly desire :1 
 the one, not to be at all wanting, as far as in me lies, to this most noble cause, and most worthy to be recorded   
 to all future ages: the other, that I may appear to have avoided myself that frivolousness of matter, and redun- 
 dancy of words, which I blame in my antagonist. For I am about to discourse of matters, neither inconsider- 
 able nor common, but how a most potent king, after he had trampled upon the laws of the nation, and given a 
 shock to its religion, and begun to rule at his own will and pleasure, was at last subdued in the field by his 
 own subjects, who had undergone a long slavery under him; how afterwards he was cast into prison, and when 
 he gave no ground, either by words or actions, to hope better things of him, he was finally by the supreme 
 council of the kingdom condemned to die, and beheaded before the very gates of the royal palace. I shall 
 likewise relate (which will much conduce to the easing men's minds of a great superstition) by what right, 
 especially according to our law, this judgment was given, and all these matters transacted; and shall easily 
 defend my valiant and worthy countrymen (who have extremely well deserved of all subjects and nations in 
 the world) from the most wicked calumnies both of domestic and foreign railers, and especially from the re- 
 proaches of this most vain and empty sophister, who sets up for a captain and ringleader to all the rest. For 
 what king's majesty sitting upon an exalted throne, ever shone so brightly, as that of the people of England 
 then did, when shaking off that old superstition, which had prevailed a long time, they gave judgment upon 
 the king himself, or rather upon an enemy who had been their king, caught as it were in a net by his own 
 laws, (who alone of all mortals challenged to himself impunity by a divine right,) and scrupled not to inflict the 
 same punishment upon him, being guilty, which he would have inflicted upon any other? But why do I men- 
 tion these things as performed by the people, which almost open their voice themselves, and testify the presence 
 of God throughout ? who, as often as it seems good to his infinite wisdom, uses to throw down proud and unruly 
 kings, exalting themselves above the condition of human nature, and utterly to extirpate them and all their 
 family. By his manifest impulse being set on work to recover our almost lost liberty, following him as our 
 guide, and adoring the impresses of his divine power manifested upon all occasions, we went on in no obscure, 
 but an illustrious passage, pointed out and made plain to us by God himself. Which things, if I should so 
 much as hope by any diligence or ability of mine, such as it is, to discourse of as I ought to do, and to commit 
 them so to writing, as that perhaps all nations and all ages may read them, it would be a very vain thing in 
 me. For what style can be august and magnificent enough, what man has parts suflicient to undertake so great 
 a task ? Since we find by experience, that in so many ages as are gone over the world, there has been but here 
 and there a man found, who has been able worthily to recount the actions of great heroes, and potent states; 
 can any man have so good an spinion of his own talents, as to think himself capable to reach these glorious and 
 wonderful works of Almighty God, by any language, by any style of his? Which enterprise, though some of 
 
 • Thii translation of the autlUM-'**' Deftosio pro Populo Anglicano*' Mr. Tclaur) ascribe* to Mr. W«»hii-i|ton, « grnlleinan of llie Templf. 
 
A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND Sec. 339 
 
 the most eminent persons in our commonwealth have prevailed upon me by their authority to undertake, and 
 would have it be my business to vindicate with my pen against envy and calutnny (which are proof against 
 arms) those glorious performances of theirs, (whose opinion of me I take as a very great honour, that they should 
 pitch upon me before others to be serviceable in this kind of those most valiant deliverers of my native country ; 
 and true it is, that from my very youth, I have been bent extremely upon such sort of studies, as inclined me, 
 if not to do great things myself, at least to celebrate those that did,) yet as having no confidence in any such 
 advantages, I have recourse to the divine assistance; and invoke the great and holy God, the giver of all good 
 gifts, that I may as substantially, and as truly, discourse and refute the sauciness and lies of this foreign decla- 
 mator, as our noble generals piously and successfully by force of arms broke the king's pride, and his unruly 
 domineering, and afterwards put an end to both by inflicting a memorable punishment upon himself, and as 
 thoroughly as a single person did with ease but of late confute and confound the king himself rising as it were 
 from the grave, and recommending himself to the people in a book published after his death, with new artifices 
 and allurements of words and expressions. Which antagonist of mine, though he be a foreigner, and, though 
 he deny it a thousand times over, but a poor grammarian ; yet not contented with a salary due to him in that 
 capacity, chose to turn a pragmatical coxcomb, and not only to intrude in state-affairs, but into the affairs of a 
 foreign state : though he brings along with him neither modesty, nor understanding, nor any other qualification 
 requisite in so great an arbitrator, but sauciness, and a little grammar only. Indeed if he had published here, 
 and in English, the same things as he has now wrote in Latin, such as it is, I think no man would have thought 
 it worth while to return an answer to them, but would partly despise them as common, and exploded over and 
 over already, and partly abhor them as sordid and tyrannical maxims, not to be endured even by the most ab- 
 ject of slaves : nay, men that have sided with the king, would have had these thoughts of his book. But since 
 he has swoln it to a considerable bulk, and dispersed it amongst foreigners, who are altogether ignorant of our 
 affairs and constitution ; it is fit that they who mistake them, should be better informed ; and that he, who is so 
 very forward to speak ill of others, should be treated in his own kind. If it be asked, why we did not then 
 attack him sooner, why we suffered him to triumph so long, and pride himself in our silence ? For others I am 
 not to answer; for myself I can boldly say, that I had neither words nor arguments long to seek for the defence 
 of so good a cause, if I had enjoyed such a measure of health, as would have endured the fatigue of writing. 
 And being but weak in body, I am forced to write by piecemeal, and break off almost every hour, though the 
 subject be such as requires an uuintermittcd study and intenseness of mind. But though this bodily indisposi- 
 tion may be a hindrance to me in setting forth the just praises of my most worthy countrymen, who have been 
 the saviours of their native country, and whose exploits, worthy of immortality, are already famous all the world 
 over ; yet I hope it will be no difficult matter for me to defend them from the insolence of this silly little scho- 
 lar, and from that saucy tongue of his, at least. Nature and laws would be in an ill case, if slavery should find 
 what to say for itself, and liberty be mute : and if tyrants should find men to plead for them, and they that can 
 master and vanquish tyrants, should not be able to find advocates. And it were a deplorable thing indeed, if 
 the reason mankind is endued withal, and which is the gift of God, should not furnish more arguments for 
 men's preservation, for their deliverance, and, as much as the nature of the thing will bear, for making 
 .them equal to one another, than for their oppression, and for their utter ruin under the domineering power of 
 one single person. Let me therefore enter upon this noble cause with a cheerfulness, grounded upon this 
 assurance, that my adversary's cause is maintained by nothing but fraud, fallacy, ignorance, and barbarity; 
 whereas mine has light, truth, reason, the practice and the learning of the best ages of the world, of its side. 
 
 But now, having said enough for an introduction, since we have to do with critics ; let us in the first place 
 consider the title of this choice piece : " Defensio Regia pro Car. Primo, ad Car. Secundum : a Royal Defence 
 (or the king's defence) for Charles the First, to Charles the Second." You undertake a wonderful piece of 
 work, whoever you are; to plead the father's cause before his own son : a hundred to one but you carry it. 
 But I summon you, Salmasius, who heretofore sculked under a wrong name, and now go by no name at all, to 
 appear before another tribunal, and before other judges, where perhaps you may not hear those little applauses, 
 which you used to be so fond of in your school. But why this royal defence dedicated to the king's own son ? 
 We need not put him to the torture ; he confesses why. " At the king's charge," says he. O mercenary and 
 chargeable advocate ! could you not afford to write a defence for Charles the father, whom you pretend to have 
 been the best of kings, to Charles tlie son, the most indigent of all kings, but it must be at the poor king's own 
 charge? But though j-ou are a knave, you would not make yourself ridiculous, in calling it the king's defence ; for 
 you having sold it, it is no longer yours, but the king's indeed : who bought it at the price of a hundred jacobusses, 
 a great sum for a poor king to disburse. I know very well what I say : and it is well enough known who brought 
 the gold, and the purse wrought with beads : we know who saw you reach out greedy fists, under pretence of 
 embracing the king's chaplain, who brought the present, but indeed to embrace the present itself, and by ac- 
 cepting it to exhaust almost all the king's treasury. 
 
 But now the man ccmes himself, the door creaks; the actor comes upon the stage. 
 
 In silence now, and with attention wait, 
 
 That ye may learn what th' Eunuch has o prate. 
 
 Terent. 
 
340 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 For whaterer the matter is with him, lie blusters more than ordinary. " A horrible message had lately struck 
 our ears, but our minds more.nvith a heinous wound concerning a parricide committed in England in the per- 
 son of a king, by a wicked conspiracy of sacrilegious men." Indeed that horrible message must either have 
 bad a much longer sword than that which Peter drew, or those ears must have been of a wonderful length, that 
 it could wound at such a distance; for it could not so much as in the least offend any ears but those of an ass. 
 For what harm is it to you, that are foreigners ? are any of you hurt by it, if we amongst ourselves put our own 
 enemies, our own traitors to death, be they commoners, noblemen, or kings.'' Do you, Salmasius, let alone what 
 does not concern you : for I have a horrible message to bring of you too ; which I am mistaken if it strike not 
 a more heinous wound into the ears of all grammarians and critics, provided they have any learning and delicacy 
 in them, to wit, your crowding so many barbarous expressions together in one period in the person of (Aristar- 
 chus) a grammarian ; and that so great a critic as you, hired at the king's charge to write a defence of the king 
 his father, should not only set so fulsome a preface before it, much like those lamentable ditties that used to be 
 sung at funerals, and which can move compassion in none but a coxcomb; but in the very first sentence should 
 provoke your readers to laughter with so many barbarisms all at once. " Persona regis," you cry. Where do 
 you find any such Latin ? or are you telling us some tale or other of a Perkin Warbec, who taking upon him 
 the person of a king, has, foi-sootb, committed some horrible parricide in England ? which expression, though 
 dropping carelessly from your pen, has more truth in it than you are aware of. For a tyrant is but like a king 
 upon a stage, a man in a vizor, and acting the part of a king in a play ; he is not really a king. But as for 
 these gallicisms, that are so frequent in your book, T won't lash you for them myself, for I am not at leisure ; 
 but shall deliver you over to your fellow-grammarians, to be laughed to scorn and whipped by them. What 
 follows is much more heinous, that what was decreed by our supreme magistracy to be done to the king, should 
 be said by you to have been done " by a wicked conspiracy of sacrilegious persons." Have you the impudence, 
 you rogue, to talk at this rate of the acts and decrees of the chief magistrates of a nation, that lately was a most 
 potent kingdom, and is now a more potent commonwealth .'' Whose proceedings no king ever took upon him by 
 word of mouth, or otherwise, to vilify and set at nought. The illustrious states of Holland therefore, the ge- 
 nuine oflTspring of those deliverers of their country, have deservedly by their edict condemned to utter darkness 
 this defence of tyrants, so pernicious to the liberty of all nations; the author of which every free state ought to 
 forbid their country, or to banish out of it ; and that state particularly that feeds with a stipend so ungrateful 
 and so savage an enemy to their commonwealth, whose very fundamentals, and the causes of their becomino- a 
 free state, this fellow endeavours to undermine as well as ours, and at one and the same time to subvert both ; 
 loading with calumnies the most worthy asserters of liberty there, under our names. Consider with yourselves, 
 ye most illustrious states of the United Netherlands, who it was that put this asserter of kingly power upon set- 
 ting pen to paper? who it was, that but lately began to play Rex in your country .J* what counsels were taken, 
 what endeavours used, and what disturbances ensued thereupon in Holland ? and to what pass things might 
 have been brought by this time .'' How slavery and a new master were ready prepared for you ; and how near 
 expiring that libertj' of yours, asserted and vindicated by so many years war and toil, would have been ere 
 now, if it had not taken breath again by the timely death of a certain rash young gentleman. But our author 
 begins to strut again, and to feign wonderful tragedies ; " whomsoever this dreadful news reached, (to w it, the 
 news of Salmasius's parricidial barbarisms,) all of a sudden, as if they had been struck with lightning, their 
 hair stood an end, and their tongues clove to the roof of their mouth." Which let natural philosophers take 
 notice of, (for this secret in nature was never discovered before,) that lightning makes men's hair stand on end. 
 But who knows not that little effeminate minds are apt to be amazed at the news of any extraordinary great 
 action ; and that then they shew themselves to be, what they really were before, no better than so many stocks .'' 
 " Some could not refrain from tears ;" some little women at court, I suppose, or if there be any more effeminate 
 than they, of whose number Salmasius himself being one. is by a new metamorphosis become a fountain near 
 akin to his name, (Salraacis,) and with his counterfeit flood of tears prepared over night, endeavours to emascu- 
 late generous minds : I advise therefore, and wish them to have a care ; 
 
 Infamis ne quem male fortibus undis 
 
 Salmacis enervet. 
 
 Ne, si vir cum venerit, exeat inde 
 
 .Semivir, et tactis subito moUescat in undis. 
 
 Abstain, as manhood you esteem. 
 
 From Salmacis' pernicious stream : 
 
 If but one moment there you stay, 
 
 Too dear you'll for your bathing pay.' — 
 
 Depart nor man nor woman, but a sight 
 
 Disgracing both, a loath'd hermaphrodite. 
 
 " They that bad more courage" (which yet he expresses in miserable bald Latin, as if he could not so much 
 as'speak of men of courage and magnanimity in proper words) " were set on fire with indignation to that de- 
 gree, that they could hardly contain themselves." Those furious Hectors we value not of a rush. We have 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 341 
 
 been accustomed to rout such bullies in the field with a true sober courage ; a courage becoming men that can 
 contain themselves, and are in their right wits. " There were none that did not curse the authors of so horrible 
 a villany." But j'et, you say, their tongues clove to the roof of their mouths ; and if you mean this of our 
 fugitives only, I wish they had clove there to this day ; for we know very well, that there is nothing more 
 common with them, than to have their mouths full of curses and imprecations, which indeed all good men 
 abominate, but withal despise. As for others, it is hardly credible, that when they heard the news of our having 
 inflicted a capital punishment upon the king, there should any be found, especially in a free state, so naturally 
 adapted to slavery as either to speak ill of us, or so much as to censure what we had done. Nay, it is highly 
 probable, that all good men applauded us, and gave God thanks for so illustrious, so exalted a piece of justice ; 
 and for a caution so very useful to other princes. In the mean time, as for those fierce, those steel-hearted men, 
 that, you say, take on for, and bewail so pitifully, the lamentable and wonderful death I know not who ; them 
 I say, together with their tinkling advocate, the dullest that ever appeared since the name of a king was born 
 and known in the world, we shall even let whine on, till they cry their eyes out. But in the mean time, what 
 schoolboy, what little insignificant monk, could not have made a more elegant speech for the king, and in bet- 
 ter Latin, than this royal advocate has done ? But it would be folly in me to make such particular animadver- 
 sions upon his childishness and frenzies throughout his book, as I do here upon a few in the beginning of it ; 
 which yet I would be willing enough to do, (for we hear that he is swelled with pride and conceit to the utmost 
 degree imaginable,) if the undigested and immethodical bulk of his book did not protect him. He was resolved 
 to take a course like the soldier in Terence, to save his bacon ; and it was very cunning in him, to stuff his 
 book with so much puerility, and so many silly whimsies, that it might nauseate the smartest man in the 
 world to death to take notice of them all. Only I thought it might not be amiss to give a specimen of 
 him in the preface ; and to let the serious reader have a taste of him at first, tliat he might guess by the first 
 dish that is served up, how noble an entertainment the rest are like to make ; and that be may imagine with 
 himself what an infinite number of fooleries and impertineucies must needs be heaped up together in the body 
 of the book, when they stand so thick in the very entrance into it, where, of all other places, they ought to have 
 been shunned. His tittle-tattle that follows, and his sermons fit for nothing but to be wormeaten, I can easily 
 pass by, as for any thing in them relating to us, we doubt not in the least, but that what has been written and 
 published by authority of parliament, will have far greater weight with all wise and sober men, than the ca- 
 lumnies and lies of one single impudent little fellow ; who being hired by our fugitives, their country's ene- 
 mies, has scraped together, and not scrupled to publish in print, whatever little story any one of them that 
 employed him put into his head. And that all men may plainly see how little conscience he makes of 
 setting down any thing right or wrong, good or bad, I desire no other witness than Salmasius himself. 
 In his book, entitled, "Apparatus contra Primatum Papoe," he says, * there are most weighty reasons why the 
 church ought to lay aside episcopacy, and return to the apostolical institution of presbyters: that a far greater 
 mischief has been introduced into the church by episcopacy, than the schisms themselves were, which were be- 
 fore apprehended : that the plague which episcopacy introduced, depressed the whole body of the church 
 under a miserable tyranny ; nay, had put a yoke even upon the necks of kings and princes : that it would be 
 more beneficial to the church, if the whole hierarchy itself were extirpated, than if the pope only, who is the 
 head of it, were laid aside,' page 160. ' That it would be very much for the good of the church, if episcopacy 
 were taken away, together with the papacy : that if episcopacy were once taken down, the papacy would fall 
 of itself, as being founded upon it,' page 171. He says, 'he can shew very good reasons why episcopacy 
 ought to be put down in those kingdoms, that have renounced the pope's supremacy ; but that he can see no 
 reason for retaining it there : that a reformation is not entire, that is defective in this point : that no reason can 
 be alleged, no probable cause assigned, why the supremacy of the pope being once disowned, episcopacy should 
 notwithstanding be retained,' page 197. — Though he had wrote all this, and a great deal more to this effect, 
 but four years ago, he is now become so vain and so impudent withal, as to accuse the parliament of England, 
 ' for not only turning the bishops out of the house of lords, but for abolishing episcopacy itself.' Nay, he per- 
 suades us to receive episcopacy, and defends it by the very same reasons and arguments, which with a gfreat 
 deal of earnestness he had confuted himself in that former book ; to wit, ' that bishops were necessary and 
 ought to have been retained, to prevent the springing up of a thousand pernicious sects and heresies.' Crafty 
 turncoat ! are you not ashamed to shift hands thus in things that are sacred, and (I had almost said) to betray 
 the church ; whose most solemn institutions you seem to have asserted and vindicated with so much noise, that 
 when it should seem for your interest to change sides, you might undo and subvert all again with the more dis- 
 grace and infamy to yourself.'* It is notoriously known, that when both houses of parliament, being extremely 
 desirous to reform the church of England by the pattern of our reformed churches, bad resolved to abolish 
 episcopacy, the king first interposed, and afterwards waged war against them chiefly for that very cause; which 
 proved fatal to him. Go now and boast of your having defended the king; who, that you might the better 
 defend him, do now openly betray and impugn the cause of the church, whose defence you yourself had for- 
 merly undertaken ; and whose severest censures ought to be inflicted upon you. As for the present form of our 
 government, since such a foreign insignificant professor as you, having laid aside your boxes and desks stuffed 
 with nothing but trifles, which you might have spent your time better in putting into order, will needs turn 
 
342 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 busybody, and be troublesome in other men's matters, I shall return you this answer, or rather not to you, but 
 to them that are wiser than yourself, viz. That the form of it is such as our present distractions will admit of; 
 not such as were to be wished, but such as the obstinate divisions, that are amongst us, will bear. What state 
 soever is pestered wilh factions, and defends itself by force of arms, is very just in having- regard to those only 
 that are sound and untainted, and in overlooking or secluding the rest, be they of the nobility or the common 
 people ; nay, though profiting by experience, they should refuse to be governed any longer either by a king or 
 a house of lords. But in railing at that supreme council, as you call it, and at the chairman there, you make 
 yourself very ridiculous ; for that council is not the supreme council, as you dream it is, but appointed by authority 
 of parliament, for a certain time only ; and consisting of forty persons, for the most part members of par- 
 liament, any one of whom may be president if the rest vote him into the chair. And there is nothing 
 more common, than for our parliaments to appoint committees of their own members; who, when so ap- 
 pointed, have power to meet where they please, and hold a kind of a little parliament amongst themselves^ 
 And the most weighty affairs are often referred to them, for expedition and secrecy ; the care of the navyJ 
 the army, the treasury ; in short, all things whatsoever relating either to war or peace. Whether this 
 called a council, or any thing else, the thing is ancient, though the name may be new ; and it is such an ii 
 stitution, as no government can be duly administered without it. As for our putting the king to death, an^ 
 changing the government, forbear your bawling, don't spit your venom, till, going along with you throut 
 every chapter, I shew, whether you will or no, " by what law, by what right and justice," all that was don« 
 But if you insist to know, " by what right, by what law ;" by that law, I tell you, which God and nature hav| 
 enacted, viz. that whatever things are for the universal good of the whole state, are for that reason lawful an^ 
 just. So wise men of old used to answer such as you. You find fault with us for " repealing laws, that had ob. 
 tained for so many years ;" but you do not tell us whether those laws were good or bad, nor, if you did, should 
 we heed what you said ; for you, busy puppy, what have you to do with our laws? I wish our magistrates 
 had repealed more than they have, both laws and lawyers; if they had, they would have consulted the interest 
 of the christian religion, and that of the people better than they have done. It frets you, that " hobgoblins, sons 
 of the earth, scarce gentlemen' at home, scarce known to their own countrymen, should presume to do such 
 things." But you ought to have remembered, what not only the Scriptures, but Horace would have taught 
 
 you, viz. 
 
 Valet ima summis 
 
 Mutare, et insignem attenuat Deus, 
 Obscura promens, &c. 
 
 The power that did create, can change the scene 
 Of things ; make mean of great, and great of mean ; 
 The brightest glory can eclipse wilh night ; 
 And place the most obscure in dazzling light. 
 
 But take this into the bargain. Some of those who, you say, be scarce gentlemen, are not at all inferiour in 
 birth to any of your party. Others, whose ancestors were not noble, have taken a course to attain to true no- 
 bility by their own industry and virtue, and are not inferiour to men of the noblest descent. They had rather be 
 called " sons of the earth," provided it be their own earth, (their own native country,) and act like men at home, 
 than, being destitute of house or land, to relieve the necessities of nature in a foreign country by selling of 
 smoke, as thou dost, an inconsiderable fellow and a jack-straw, and who dependest upon the good-will of thy 
 masters for a poor stipend ; for whom it were better to dispense with thy labours, and return to thy own kindred 
 and countrymen, if thou hadstnot this one piece of cunning, to babble out some silly prelections and fooleries at 
 so good a rate amongst foreigners. You find fault with our magistrates for admitting such " a common sewer 
 of all sorts of sects." Why should they not ? It belongs to the church to cast them out of the communion of 
 the faithful ; not to the magistrate to banish them the country, provided they do not offend against the civil 
 laws of the state. Men at first united into civil societies, that they might live safely, and enjoy their liberty, 
 without being wronged or oppressed ; and that they might live religiously, and according to the doctrine of 
 Christianity, they united themselves into churches. Civil societies have laws, and churches have a discipline pe- 
 culiar to themselves, and far differing from each other. And this has been the occasion of so many wars in 
 Christendom ; to wit, because the civil magistrate and the church confounded their jurisdictions. Therefore we 
 do not admit of the popish sect, so as to tolerate papists at all ; for we do not look upon that as a religion, but 
 rather as a hierarchical tyranny, under a cloak of religion, clothed with the spoils of the civil power, which it 
 has usurped to itself, contrary to our Saviour's own doctrine. As for the independents, we never had any such 
 amongst us, as you describe ; they that we call independents, are only such as hold, that no cla.ssis or synods 
 have a superiority over any particular church, and that therefore they ought all to be plucked up by the rooU*, 
 as branches, or rather as the very trunk, of hierarchy itself; which is your own opinion too. And from hence it 
 was that the name of independents prevailed amongst the vulgar. The rest of your preface is spent in endea- 
 vouring not only to stir up the hatred of all kings and monarchs against us, but to persuade them to make a 
 general war upon us. • Mitbridates of old, though in a different cause, endeavoured to stir up all princes to makr 
 war upon the Romans, by laying to their charge almost just the same_thing^ that you do to ours : viz. that tin 
 
AN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING 343 
 
 Romans aimed at nothing- but the subversion of all king'doms, that they had no reg-ard to any thing-, whether sa- 
 cred or civil, that from their very first rise, they never enjoyed any thing- but what they had acquired by force, 
 that they were robbers, and the greatest enemies in the world to monarchy.. Thus Mithridates expressed him- 
 self in a letter to Arsaces, king- of the Parthians. But how came 3-ou, whose business it is to make silly speeches 
 from your desk, to have the confidence to imagine, that by your persuasions to take up arms, and sounding- an 
 alarm as it were, you should be able so much as to influence a king amongst boys at play ; especially, with so 
 shrill a voice, and unsavoury breath, that I believe, if you were to have been the trumpeter, not so much as Ho- 
 mer's mice would have waged war against the frogs ? So little do we fear, you slug you, any war or 
 danger from foreign princes through your silly rhetoric, who accusest us to them, just as if you were at 
 play, " that we toss kings' heads like balls ; play at bowls with crowns ; and regard sceptres no more than if they 
 were fools' staves with heads on :" but you in the mean time, you silly loggerhead, deserve to have your bones 
 •well thrashed with a fool's staff, for thinking to stir up kings and princes to war by such childish arguments. 
 Then you cry aloud to all nations, who, I know full well, will never heed what you say. You call upon that 
 wretched and barbarous crew of Irish rebels too, to assert the king's party. Which one thing is sufficient evi- 
 dence how much you are both a fool and a knave, and how you outdo almost all mankind in villany, impu- 
 dence, and madness ; who scruple not to implore the loyalty and aid of an execrable people devoted to the 
 slaughter, whom the king himself always abhorred, or so pretended, to have any thing to do with, by reason of 
 the guilt of so much innocent blood, which they had contracted. And that very perfidiousness and cruelty, 
 which he endeavoured as much as he could to conceal, and to clear himself from any suspicion of, you, the most 
 villanous of mortals, as fearing neither God nor man, voluntarily and openly take upon yourself Go on then, under- 
 take the king's defence at the encouragement and by the assistance of the Irish. You take care, and so you might 
 well, lest any should imagine, that you were about to bereave Cicero or Demosthenes of the praise due to their 
 eloquence, by telling us beforehand, that " you conceive you ought not to speak like an orator." It is wisely said 
 of a fool ; you conceive you ought not to do what is not in your power to do : and who, that knows you never 
 80 little, ever expects any thing like an orator from you? Who neither uses, nor is able to publish, any thing 
 that is elaborate, distinct, or has so much as sense in it; but like a second Crispin, or that little Grecian Tzetzes, 
 you do but write a great deal, take no pains to write well ; nor could write any thing well, though you took 
 never so much pains. "This cause shall be argued (say you) in the hearing, and as it were before the tribunal, 
 of all mankind." That is what we like so well, that we could now wish we had a discreet and intelligent ad- 
 versary, and not such a hairbrained blunderbuss as you, to deal with. You conclude very tragically, like Ajax 
 in his raving; " I will proclaim to heaven and earth the injustice, the villany, the perfidiousness and cruelty of 
 these men, and will deliver them over convicted to all posterity." O flowers ! that such a witless, senseless 
 bawler, one that was born but to spoil or transcribe good authors, should think himself able to write any thing 
 of his own, that will reach posterity, whom, together with his frivolous scribbles, the very next age will bury in 
 oblivion ; unless this defence of the king perhaps may be beholden to the answer I give to it, for being looked 
 into now and then. And I would entreat the illustrious states of Holland, to take off their prohibition, and 
 suffer the book to be publicly sold. For when I have detected the vanity, ignorance, and falsehood, that it is 
 full of, the farther it spreads, the more effectually it will be suppressed. Now let us hear how he convicts us. 
 
 DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 CHAP I. 
 
 I PERSUADE myself, Salmasius, that you being a vain 
 flashy man, are not a little proud of being the king of 
 Great Britain's defender, who himself was styled the 
 " Defender of the Faith." For my part, I think you 
 deserve your titles both alike ; for the king defended 
 the faith, and you have defended him, so, that betwixt 
 you, you have spoiled both your causes : which T shall 
 make appear throughout the whole ensuing discourse, 
 and particularly in this very chapter. You told us in 
 the 12th page of your preface, that " so good and so 
 
 rishes of rhetoric ; that the king needed no other de- 
 fence, than by a bare narrative of his story :" and yet 
 in your first chapter, in which you had promised us 
 that bare narrative, you neither tell the story right, 
 nor do you abstain from making use of all the skill you 
 have in rhetoric to set it off. So that, if we must take 
 your own judgment, we must believe the king's cause 
 to be neither good nor just. But by the way, I would 
 advise you not to have so good an opinion of yourself 
 (for nobody else has so of you) as to imagine that you 
 
 just a cause ought not to be embellished with any flou- j are able to speak well upon any subject, who can 
 
344 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 neither play the part of an orator, nor an liistorian,nor 
 express yourself in a style that would not be ridiculous 
 even in a lawyer; but like a mountebank's juggler, 
 with big swelling words in your preface, you raised 
 our expectation, as if some mighty matter were to en- 
 sue; in which your design was not so much to intro- 
 duce a true narrative of the king's story, as to make 
 your own empty intended flourishes go off the better. 
 For " being now about to give us an account of the 
 matter of fact, you find yourself encompassed and af- 
 frighted with so many monsters of novelty, that you 
 are at a loss what to say first, what next, and what last 
 of all." I will tell you what the matter is with you. 
 In the first place, you find yourself affrighted and 
 astonished at your own monstrous lies, and then you 
 find that empty head of yours not encompassed, but car- 
 ried round, with so many trifles and fooleries, that you 
 not only now do not, but never did, know what was fit 
 to be spoken, and in what method. " Among the many 
 difficulties, that you find in expressing the heinousness 
 of so incredible a piece of impiety, this one offers itself, 
 you say, which is easily said, and must often be re- 
 peated ; to wit, that the sun itself never beheld a more 
 outrageous action." But by your good leave, Sir, the 
 sun has beheld many things, that blind Bernard never 
 saw. But we are content you should mention the sun 
 over and over. And it will be a piece of prudence in 
 you so to do. For though our wickedness does not re- 
 quire it, the coldness of the defence that you are mak- 
 ing does. " The original of kings, you say, is as 
 ancient as that of the sun." May the gods and god- 
 desses, Damasippus, bless thee with an everlasting 
 solstice ; that thou mayest always be warm, thou that 
 canst not stir a foot without the sun. Perhaps you 
 would avoid the imputation of being called a doctor 
 Umbraticus. But alas! you are in perfect darkness, 
 that make no difference betwixt a paternal power, and 
 a regal : and that when you had called kings fathers 
 of their country, could fancy that with that metaphor 
 you had persuaded us, that whatever is applicable to a 
 father, is so to a king. Alas ! there is a great differ- 
 ence betwixt them. Our fathers begot us. Our king 
 made not us, but we him. Nature has given fathers 
 to us all, but we ourselves appointed our own king. 
 So that the people is not for the king, but the king for 
 them. " We bear with a father, though he be harsh 
 and severe ;" and so we do with a king. But we do 
 not bear with a father, if be be a tyrant. If a father mur- 
 der his son, he himself must die for it ; and why should 
 not a king be subject to the same law, which certainly 
 is a most just one ? Especially considering that a fa- 
 ther cannot by any possibility divest himself of that 
 relation, but a king may easily make himself neither 
 king nor father of his people. If this action of ours be 
 considered according to its quality, as you call it, I, 
 who am both an Englishman bom, and was an eye- 
 witness of the transactions of these times, tell you, who 
 are both a foreigner and an utter stranger to our affairs ; 
 that we have put to death neither a |M>od, nor a just, 
 nor a merciful, nor a devout, nor a giWly, nor a peace- 
 
 • S<lni(jius WM once so advocate, that U, « counsellor at 1 1». 
 
 able king, as you style him ; but an enemy, that has 
 been so to us almost ten years to an end ; nor one that 
 was a father, but a destroyer of his country. You con- 
 fess, that such things have been practised ; for your- 
 self have not the impudence to deny it : but not by 
 protestants upon a protestant king. As if he deserved 
 the name of a protestant, that, in a letter to the pope, 
 could give him the title of most holy father; that was 
 always more favourable to the papists than to those of 
 his own profession. And being such, be is not the first 
 of his own family, that has been put to death by pro- 
 testants. Was not his grandmother deposed and 
 banished, and at last beheaded by protestants.^ And 
 were not her own countrymen, that were protestants 
 too, well enough pleased with it.'' Nay, if I should say 
 they were parties to it, I should not lie. But there 
 being so few protestant kings, it is no great wonder, 
 if it never happened that one of them has been put to 
 death. But that it is lawful to depose a tyrant, and to 
 punish him according to bis deserts; nay, that this is 
 the opinion of very eminent divines, and of such as 
 have been most instrumental in the late reformation, do 
 you deny it if you dare. You confess, that many kings 
 have come to an unnatural death ; some by the sword, 
 some poisoned, some strangled, and some in a dun- 
 geon ; but for a king to be arraigned in a court of ju- 
 dicature, to be put to plead for his life, to have sentence 
 of death pronounced against him, and that sentence 
 executed ; this you think a more lamentable instance 
 than all the rest, and make it a prodigious piece of im- 
 piety. Tell me, thou superlative fool, whether it be 
 not more just, more agreeable to the rules of humanity, 
 and the laws of all human societies, to bring a criminal, 
 be his offence what it will, before a court of justice, to 
 give him leave to speak for himself; and, if the law 
 condemn him, then to put him to death as he has de- 
 served, so as he may have time to repent or to recol- 
 lect himself; than presently, as soon as ever he is 
 taken, to butcher him without more ado .'' Do you think 
 there is a malefactor in the world, that if he might 
 have his choice, would not choose to be thus dealt 
 withal ? And if this sort of proceeding against a private 
 person be accounted the fairer of the two, why should 
 it not be counted so against a prince ? Nay, why should 
 we not think, that himself liked it better.'' You would 
 have had him killed privately, and none to have seen 
 it, either that future ages might have lost the advan- 
 tage of so good an example ; or that they that did this 
 glorious action, might seem to have avoided the light, 
 and to have acted contrary to law and justice. You 
 aggravate the matter by telling us, that it was not done 
 in an uproar, or brought about by any faction amongst 
 great men, or in the heat of a rebellion, either of the 
 people, or the soldiers : that there was no hatred, no 
 fear, no ambition, no blind precipitate rashness in the 
 case; but that it was long consulted on, and done with 
 deliberation. You did well in leaving off being an 
 ♦Advocate, and turn grammarian, who from the acci- 
 dents and circumstances of a thing, which in themselves 
 considered sway neither one way nor other, argue in 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 345 
 
 dispraise of it, before you have proved the things itself 
 to be either good or bad. See how open you lie : if the 
 action you are discoursing of be commendable and praise- 
 worthy, they that did it deserve the greater honour, in 
 that they were prepossessed with no passions, but did 
 what they did for virtue's sake. If there were great 
 difficulty in the enterprise, they did well in not going 
 about it rashly, but upon advice and consideration. 
 Though for my own part, when I call to mind with 
 how unexpected an importunity and fervency of mind, 
 and with how unanimous a consent, the whole army, 
 and a great part of the people from almost every county 
 in the kingdom, cried out with one voice for justice 
 against the king, as being the sole author of all their 
 calamities : I cannot but think, that these things were 
 brought about by a divine impulse. Whatever the 
 matter was, whether we consider the magistrates, or 
 the body of the people, no men ever undertook with 
 more courage, and, which our adversaries themselves 
 confess, in a more sedate temper of mind, so brave an 
 action, an action that might have become those famous 
 heroes, of whom we read in former ages ; an action, 
 by which they ennobled not only laws, and their exe- 
 cution, which seem for the future equally restored to 
 high and low against one another; but even justice, 
 and to have rendered it, after so signal a judgment, 
 more illustrious and greater than in its own self. We 
 are now come to an end of the 3d page of the first book, 
 and have not the bare narrative he promised us yet. 
 He complains that our principles are, that a king, whose 
 government is burdensome and odious, may lawfully 
 be deposed : and " by this doctrine," says he, " if they 
 had had a king a thousand times better than they had, 
 they would not have spared his life." Observe the 
 man's subtle way of arguing. For I would willingly 
 be informed what consequence there is in this, unless 
 he allows, that a king's government may be burden- 
 some and odious, who is a thousand times better than 
 our king was. So that now he has brought things to 
 this pass, to make the king that he defends a thousand 
 times woree than some whose government notwith- 
 standing is burdensome and odious, that is, it may be, 
 the most monstrous tyrant that ever reigned. I wish 
 3-e joy, O ye kings, of so able a defender ! Now the 
 narrative begins. " They put him to several sorts of 
 torments." Give an instance. " They removed him 
 from prison to prison ;" and so they might lawfully do; 
 for having been a tyrant, he became an open enemy, 
 and was taken in war. " Often changing his keepers." 
 Lest they themselves should change. " Sometimes 
 they gave him hopes of liberty ; nay, and sometimes 
 even of restoring him to his crown, upon articles of 
 agreement." It seems then the taking away his life 
 was not done upon so much premeditation, as he talked 
 of before ; and that we did not lay hold on all oppor- 
 tunities and means, that offered themselves, to renounce 
 our king. Those things that in the beginning of the 
 war we demanded of him, when he had almost brought 
 us under, which things if they were denied us, we 
 could enjoy no liberty, nor live in any safety ; those 
 very things we petitioned him for when he was our 
 
 prisoner, in a humble, submissive way, not once, nor 
 twice, but thrice, and oftener, and were as often denied. 
 When we had now lost all hopes of the king's comply- 
 ing with us, then was that noble order of parliament 
 made, that from that time forward, there should no 
 articles be sent to the king ; so that we left off apply- 
 ing ourselves to him, not from the time that he began 
 to be a tyrant, but from the time that we found him 
 incurable. But afterward some parliament-men set 
 upon a new project, and meeting with a convenient 
 opportunity to put it in practice, pass a vote to send 
 further proposals once more to the king. Whose wick- 
 edness and folly nearest resembles that of the Roman 
 senate, who contrary to the opinion of M. Tullius, and 
 all honest men, voted to send embassadors to M. An- 
 tony ; and the event had been the same, but that it 
 pleased God Almighty, in his providence, to order it 
 otherwise, and to assert our liberty, though be suffered 
 them to be enslaved : for though the king did not agree 
 to any thing that might conduce to a firm peace, and 
 settlement of things, more than he had before, they go 
 and vote themselves satisfied. Then the sounder part 
 of the house finding themselves and the commonwealth 
 betrayed, implore the aid of that valiant and always 
 faithful army to the commonwealth. Upon which oc- 
 casion I can observe only this, which yet I am loth to 
 utter; to wit, that our soldiers understood themselves 
 better than our senators, and that they saved the com- 
 monwealth by their arms, when the other by their 
 votes had almost ruined it. Then he relates a great 
 many things in a doleful, lamentable strain ; but he 
 does it so senselessly, that he seems rather to beg of 
 his readers, that they would be sorrowful, than to stir 
 up any such passion in them. It grieves him " to 
 think that the king should undergo a capital punish- 
 ment, after such a manner as no other king ever had 
 done." Though he had often told us before, that there 
 never was a king that underwent a capital punishment 
 at all. Do you use to compare ways and manners, ye 
 coxcomb, when you have no things nor actions to 
 compare with one another? " He suffered death," says 
 he, " as a robber, as a murderer, as a parricide, as a 
 traitor, as a tyrant." Is this defending the king ? Or 
 is,it not rather giving a more severe sentence against 
 him, than that that we gave ? How came you so all 
 on a sudden to be of our mind ? He complains " that 
 executioners in vizards [personati camifices] cut off the 
 king's head." What shall we do with this fellow ? 
 He told us before, of " a murder committed on one in 
 the disguise of a king [in persona regis] :" now he 
 says, it was done in the disguise of an executioner. It 
 were to no purpose, to take particular notice of every 
 sillv thing he says. He tells stories of" boxes on the 
 e.ar, and kicks, that," he says, " were given the king 
 by common soldiers, and that it was four shillings 
 apiece to see his dead body.-" These, and such like 
 stories, which partly are false, and partly impertinent, 
 betray the ignorance and childishness of our poor 
 scholar; but arq-far from making any reader ever a 
 whit the sadder. In good faith his son Charles had 
 done better to have hired some ballad-singer, to have 
 
346 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 bewailed his father's niisfortunes, than this doleful, 
 shall I call him, or rather most ridiculous orator, who 
 is so dry and insipid, that there is not the least spirit 
 in any thing he says. Now the narrative is done, and 
 it is hard to say what be does next, he runs on so sor- 
 didly and irreg'ular. Now he is angry, then be won- 
 ders; be neither cares what he talks, nor how ; repeats 
 the same things ten times orer, that could not but look 
 ill, though he had said them but once. And I persuade 
 myself, the extemporary rhymes of some antic juck- 
 pudding may deserve printing better; so far am I from 
 thinking aught he says worthy of a serious answer. I 
 pass by bis styling the king a" protector of religion," 
 who chose to make war upon the church, rather than 
 part with those church-tyrants, and enemies of all re- 
 ligion, the bishops ; and bow is it possible, that he 
 should " maintain religion in its purity," that was 
 himself a slave to those impure traditions and ceremo- 
 nies of theirs ? And for our " sectaries, whose sacrile- 
 gious meetings," you say, " have public allowance ;" 
 instance in any of their principles, the profession of 
 which is not openly allowed of, and countenanced in 
 Holland. But in the mean time, there is not a more 
 sacrilegious wretch in nature than yourself, that always 
 took liberty to speak ill of all sorts of people. " They 
 could not wound the commonwealth more dangerously, 
 than by taking off its master." Learn, ye abject, 
 homeborn slave ; unless ye take away the master, ye 
 destroy the commonwealth. That that has a master, 
 is one man's property. The word master denotes a 
 private, not a public relation. " They persecute most 
 unjustly those ministers, that abhorred tbis action of 
 theirs." Lest you should not know what ministers he 
 means, I will tell you in a few words what manner of 
 men they were ; they were those very men, that by 
 their writings and sermons justified taking up arms 
 against the king, and stirred the people up to it : that 
 daily cursed, as Deborah did Meroz, all such as would 
 not furnish the parliament either with arms, or men, or 
 money. That taught the people out of their pulpits, 
 that they were not about to fight against a king, but a 
 greater tyrant than either Saul or Ahab ever were ; 
 nay, more a Nero than Nero himself. As soon as the 
 bishops, and those clergymen whom they daily in- 
 veighed against, and branded with the odious names 
 of pluralists and nonresidents, were taken out of their 
 way, they presently jump, some into two, some into 
 three of their best benefices ; being now warm them- 
 selves, they soon unworthily neglected their charge. 
 Their covetousness brake through all restraints of mo- 
 desty and religion, and themselves now labour under 
 the same infamy, that they had loaded their predeces- 
 sors with ; and because tlieir covetousness is not yet 
 satisfied, and their ambition has accustomed them to 
 raise tumults, and be enemies to peace, they cannot 
 rest at quiet yet, but preach up sedition against the 
 magistracy, as it is now established, as they had for- 
 merly done against the king. They now tell the 
 people, that he was cruelly murdered ; upon whom 
 themselves having heaped all their curses, had devoted 
 bitn to destruction, whom they had delivered up as it 
 
 were to the parliament, to be despoiled of his royalty, 
 and pursued with a holy war. They now complain, 
 that the sectaries are not extirpated ; which is a most 
 abburd thing to expect the magistrates should be able 
 to do, who never yet were able, do what they could, to 
 extirpate avarice and ambition, those two most per- 
 nicious heresies, and more destructive to the church 
 than all the rest, out of the very order and tribe of the 
 ministers themselves. For the sects which they inveigh 
 against, I confess there are such amongst us, but they 
 are obscure, and make no noise in the world : the sects 
 that they are of, are public and notorious, and much 
 more dangerous to the church of God. Simon Magus 
 and Diotrephes were the ringleaders of them. Yet are 
 we so far from persecuting these men, though they are 
 pestilent enough, that though we know them to be ill- 
 affected to the government, and desirous of and endea- 
 vouring to work a change, we allow them but too much 
 liberty. You, that are both a Frenchman and a vaga- 
 bond, seem displeased that " the English, more fierce 
 and cruel than their own mastiffs," as your barking 
 eloquence has it, " have no regard to the lawful suc- 
 cessor and heir of the crown : take no care of the king's 
 youngest son, nor of the queen of Bohemia." I will 
 make ye no answer ; you shall answer yourself. 
 " When the frame of a government is changed from a 
 monarchy to any other, the new modellers have no re- 
 gard to succession :" the application is easy ; it is in 
 your book De primatu Papoe. *' The great change 
 throug-hout three kingdoms," you say, " was brought 
 about by a small number of men in one of them." If 
 this were true, that small number of men would have 
 deserved to have dominion over the rest ; valiant men 
 over fainthearted cowards. " These are they that pre- 
 sumptuously took upon them to change," antiquum 
 regni regimen, in alium qui a pluribus tyrannis tene- 
 atur. It is well for them that you cannot find fault 
 with them, without committing a barbarous solecism ; 
 you shame all grammarians. " The English will never 
 be able to wash out this stain." Nay, you, though a 
 blot and a stain to all learned men, were never yet able 
 to stain the renown and everlasting glory of the Eng- 
 lish nation, that with so great a resolution, as we 
 hardly find the like recorded in any history, having 
 struggled with, and overcome, not only their enemies 
 in the field, but the superstitious persuasions of the 
 common people, have purchased to themselves in 
 general amongst all posterity the name of deliverers : 
 the body of the people having undertook and perform- 
 ed an enterprise, which in other nations is thought to 
 proceed only from a magnanimity that is peculiar to 
 heroes. What " the protestants and primitive Chris- 
 tians" have done, or would do upon such an occasion, 
 I will tell ye hereafter, when we come to debate the 
 merits of the cause : in discoursing it before, I should 
 be guilty of your fault, who outdo the most imperti- 
 nent talkers in nature. You wonder how we shall be 
 able to answer the Jesuits. Meddle with your own 
 matters, you runagate, and be ashamed of your ac- 
 tions, since the church is ashamed of you ; who, though 
 but of late you set yourself so fiercely and with so 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 347 
 
 much ostentation ag-ainst the pope's supremacy and 
 episcopal government, are now become j-ourself a very 
 creature of the bishops. You confess, that " some pro- 
 testants, whom you do not name, have asserted it law- 
 ful to depose a tyrant:" but though you do not think 
 lit to name them, I will, because you say " they are far 
 worse than the very Jesuits themselves ;" they are no 
 other than Luther, and Zuinglius, and Calvin, and 
 Bucer, and Pareus, and many others. " But then," 
 you say, " they refer it to the judgment of learned and 
 wise men, who shall be accounted a tyrant. But what 
 for men were these .'' Were they wise men, were they 
 men of learning? Were they anywise remarkable, 
 either for virtue or nobility ?" You may well allow a 
 people, that has felt the heavy yoke of slavery to be 
 wise, and learned, and noble enough, to know what is 
 fit to be done to the tyrant that has oppressed them ; 
 though they neither consult with foreigners nor gram- 
 marians. But that this man was a tyrant, not only the 
 parliaments of England and Scotland have declared by 
 their actions and express words ; but almost all the 
 people of both nations assented to it, till such time iis 
 by the tricks and artifices of the bishops they were 
 divided into two factions : and what if it has pleased 
 God to choose such men, to execute his vengeance 
 upon the greatest potentates on earth, as he chose to be 
 made partakers of the benefit of the gospel ? " Not 
 many wise, not many learned, not many powerful, not 
 many noble : that by those that are not, he might bring 
 to nought those that are ; and that no flesh might glory 
 in his sight." And who are you, that babble to the 
 contrary ? dare you affect the reputation of a learned 
 man ? I confess you are pretty well versed in phrase- 
 books, and lexicons, and glossaries ; insomuch that you 
 seem to have spent your time in nothing else. But you 
 do not make appear, that you have read any good au- 
 thors with so nuich judgment as to have benefited by 
 them. Other copies, and various lections, and words 
 omitted, and corruptions of texts, and the like, these 
 you are full of; but no footstep of any solid learning 
 appears in all you have writ : or do ye think yourself 
 a wise man, that quarrel and contend about the meanest 
 trifles that may be ? That being altogether ignorant 
 in astronomy and physic, yet are always railing at the 
 professors of both, whom all men credit in what things 
 belong to their own sciences, that would be ready to 
 curse them to the pit of hell, that should offer to de- 
 prive you of the vain glory of having corrected or sup- 
 plied the least word or letter in any copy you have 
 criticised upon. And yet you are mad to hear yourself 
 called a grammarian. In certain trifling discourses of 
 yours, you call Dr. Hammond knave in plain terms, 
 who was one of this king's chaplains, and one that he 
 valued above all the rest, for no other reason but be- 
 cause he had called you a grammarian. And I do not 
 question, but you would have been as ready to have 
 thrown the same reproach upon the king himself, if 
 you bad heard that he had approved his chaplain's 
 judgment of you. Take notice now, how much I (who 
 am but one of those many English, that you have the 
 impudence to call madmen, and unlearned, and ignoble, 
 
 and wicked) slight and despise you, (for that the Eng- 
 lish nation in general should take any notice in public 
 of such a worm as you are, would be an infinite under- 
 valuing of themselves,) who, though one should turn 
 you topsyturvy, and inside out, are but a grammarian : 
 nay, as if you had made a foolisher wish than Midas 
 did, whatever you meddle with, except when you make 
 solecisms, is grammar still. Whosoever therefore he 
 be, though from among the dregs of that common peo- 
 ple that you are so keen upon, (for as for those men of 
 eminency amongst us, whose great actions evidenced 
 to all men their nobility, and virtue, and conduct, I 
 will not disgrace them so much, as to compare you to 
 them, or them to you,) but whosoever, I say, among 
 the dregs of that common people, has but sucked in 
 this principle, that he was not born for his prince, but 
 for God and his country; he desen-es the reputation 
 of a learned, and an honest, and a wise man more, 
 and is of greater use in the world, than yourself. For 
 such a one is learned without letters ; you have letters, 
 but no learning, that understand so many languages, 
 turn over so many volumes, and yet are but asleep 
 when all is done. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 The argument that Salmasius, toward the conclusion 
 of his first chapter, urged as irrefragable, to wit, that 
 it was really so, because all men unanimously agreed 
 in it; that very argument, than which, as he applied 
 it, there is nothing more false, I, that am now about to 
 discourse of the right of kings, may turn upon himself 
 ,with a great deal of truth. For, whereas he defines " a 
 king" (if that may be said to be defined which he 
 makes infinite) " to be a person in whom the supreme 
 power of the kingdom resides, who is answerable to 
 God alone, who may do whatsoever pleases him, who 
 is bound by no law :" I will undertake to demonstrate, 
 not by mine, but by his own reasons and authorities, 
 that there never was a nation or people of any account 
 (for to ransack all the uncivilized parts of the world 
 were to no purpose) that ever allowed this to be their 
 king's right, or put such exorbitant power into his 
 hand, as " that he should not be bound by any law, 
 that he might do what he would, that he should judge 
 all, but be judged of none." Nor can I persuade my- 
 self, that there ever was any one person besides Sal- 
 masius of so slavish a spirit, as to assert the outrageous 
 enormities of tyrants to be the rights of kings. Those 
 amongst us that were the greatest royalists, always ab- 
 horred this sordid opinion : and Salmasius himself, as 
 appears by some other writings of his before he was 
 bribed, was quite of another mind. Insomuch, that 
 what he here gives out, does not look like the dictates 
 of a free subject under a free government, much less in 
 so famous a commonwealth as that of Holland, and the 
 most eminent university there : but seems to have been 
 penned by some despicable slave, that lay rotting in a 
 
348 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 prisoQ, or a dungeoii. If whatever a king has a mind 
 to do, the right of kings will bear him out iu, (which 
 was a lesson that the bloody tyrant Antoninus Cara- 
 calla, though his step-mother Julia preached it to him, 
 and endeavoured to inure him to the practice of it, by 
 making him commit incest with herself, yet could 
 hardly suck in,) then there neither is, nor ever was, 
 that king, that deserved the name of a tyrant. They 
 may safely violate all the laws of God and man : their 
 Tery being kings keeps them innocent. What crime 
 was ever any of them guilty of? They did but make 
 use of their own right upon their own vassals. No king 
 can commit such horrible cruelties and outrages, as will 
 not be within this right of kiiig^. So that there is no 
 pretence left for any complaints or expostulations with 
 aoy of them. And dare you assert, that " tliis right of 
 kings," as you call it, " is grounded upon the law of 
 nations, or rather upon that of nature," you brute 
 beast ? for you deserve not the name of a man, that are 
 so cruel and unjust towards all those of your own kind ; 
 that endeavour, as much as in you lies, so to bear down 
 and vilify the whole race of mankind, that were made 
 after the image of God, as to assert and maintain, that 
 those cruel and unmerciful taskmasters, that through 
 the superstitious whimsies, or sloth, or treachery of 
 some persons, get into the chair, are provided and ap- 
 pointed by nature herself, that mild and gentle mother 
 of us all, to be the governors of those nations they en- 
 slave. By which pestilent doctrine of yours, having 
 rendered them more fierce and untractable, you not 
 only enable them to make havoc of, and trample under 
 foot, their miserable subjects; but endeavour to arm 
 them for that very puqiose with the law of nature, the 
 right of kings, and the very constitutions of govern- 
 ment, than which nothing can be more impious or ridi- 
 culous. By my consent, as Dionysius formerly of a 
 tyrant became a schoolmaster, so you of a grammarian 
 should become a tyrant ; not that you may have that 
 regal license of doing other people harm, but a fair 
 opportunity of perishing miserably yourself: that, as 
 Tiberius complained, when he had confined himself to 
 the island Caprese, you may be reduced into such a 
 condition, as to be sensible that you perish daily. But 
 let us look a little more narrowly into this right of 
 kings that you talk of. "This was the sense of the 
 eastern, and of the western part of the world." I shall 
 not answer you with what Aristotle and Cicero (who 
 are both as credible authors as any we have) tell us, 
 viz. That the people of Asia easily submit to slavery, 
 but the Syrians and the Jews are even bom to it from 
 the womb. I confess there are but few, and those men 
 of great wisdom and courage, that are either desirous 
 of liberty, or capable of using it. The greatest part of 
 the world choose to live under masters ; but yet they 
 would have them just ones. As for such as are unjust 
 and tyrannical, neither was God ever so much an enemy 
 to mankind, as to enjoin a necessity of submitting to 
 them ; nor was there ever any people so destitute of all 
 sense, and sunk into such a depth of despair, as to im- 
 pose so cruel a law upon themselves and their posterity. 
 First, you produce " the words of King Solomon in his 
 
 Ecclesiastes." And we are as willing to appeal to the 
 Scripture as you. As for Solomon's authority, we will 
 consider that hereafter, when perhaps we shall be better 
 able to understand it. First, let us hear God himself 
 speak, Deut. xvii. 14. "When thou art come into tin 
 land, which the Lord thy God giveth thee, and shall 
 say, I will set a king over me, like as the nations that 
 are round about me." Which passage I could wish all 
 men would seriously consider : for hence it appears by 
 the testimony of God himself; first, that all nations are 
 at liberty to erect what form of government they will 
 amongst themselves, and to change it when and into 
 what they will. This God affirms in express terms 
 concerning the Hebrew nation ; and it does not appear 
 but that other nations are, as to this respect, in the same 
 condition. Another remark that this place yields us, 
 is, that a commonwealth is a more perfect form of go- 
 vernment than a monarchy, and more suitable to the 
 condition of mankind, and in the opinion of God him- 
 self better for his own people ; for himself appointed it, 
 and could hardly be prevailed withal a great while 
 after, and at their own importunate desire, to let them 
 change it into a monarchy. But to make it appear, 
 that he gave them their choice to be governed by a 
 single person, or by more, so they were justly governed, 
 in case they should in time to come resolve upon a 
 king, he prescribes laws for this king of theirs to ob- 
 serve, whereby he was forbidden to multiply to him- 
 self horses and wives, or to heap up riches : whence 
 he might easily infer, that no power was put into his 
 hands over others, but according to law, since even 
 those actions of his life, which related only to himself, 
 were under a law. He was commanded therefore to 
 transcribe with his own hand all the precepts of the 
 law, and having writ them out, to observe and keep 
 them, that his mind might not be lifted up above bis 
 brethren. It is evident from hence, that as well the 
 prince as the people was bound by the law of Moses. 
 To this purpose Joseph us writes, a proper and able 
 interpreter of the laws of his own country, who was 
 admirably well versed in the Jewish policy, and 
 infinitely preferable to a thousand obscure ignorant 
 rabbins : he has it thus in the fourth book of his 
 Antiquities, 'Api'^oKpariafiivovvKpartTOVt^c. "An Aris- 
 tocracy is the best form of government ; wherefore 
 do not you endeavour to settle any other; it is 
 enough for you, that God presides over ye, but if 
 you will have a king, let him guide himself by the law 
 of God, rather than by his own wisdom ; and lay a 
 restraint upon him, if he offer at more power than the 
 state of your affairs will allow of" Thus he expresses 
 himself upon this place in Deuteronomy. Another 
 Jewish author, Philo Judteus, who was Josephus's 
 contemporary, a very studious man in the law of Moses, 
 upon which he wrote a large commentary : when iu 
 his book concerning the creation of the king, he inter- 
 prets this chapter of Deuteronomy, he sets a king loose 
 from the law no otherwise than as an enemy may be 
 said to be so : " They," says he, " that to the prejudice 
 and destruction of the people acquire great power to 
 themselves, deserve not the name of kings, but that of 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 349 
 
 enemies : for their actions are the same with those of 
 an irreconcilable enem}-. Naj, they, that under a pre- 
 tence of government are injurious, are worse than open 
 enemies. We may fence ourselves against the latter ; 
 but the malice of the former is so much the more pesti- 
 lent, because it is not always easy to be discovered." 
 But when it is discovered, why should they not be dealt 
 with as enemies ? The same author in his second book, 
 Allegoriar. Leg-is, " A king," says be, " and a tyrant, 
 are contraries." And a little after, " A king ought not 
 only to command, but also to obey." All this is very 
 true, you will say, a king ought to observe the laws, as 
 well as any other man. But what if he will not, what 
 law is there to punish him ? I answer, the same law 
 that there is to punish other men ; for I find no excep- 
 tions. There is no express law to punish the priests, 
 or any other inferiour magistrates, who all of them, if 
 this opinion of the exemption of kings from the penal- 
 ties of the law would hold, might, by the same reason, 
 claim impunity, what guilt soever they contract, be- 
 cause there is no positive law for their punishment ; 
 and yet I suppose none of them ever challenged such 
 a prerogative, nor would it ever be allowed them, if 
 they should. Hitherto we have learned from the very 
 text of God's own law, that a king ought to obey the 
 laws, and not lift himself up above his brethren. I<et 
 us now consider whether Solomon preached up any 
 other doctrine, chap. viii. ver. 2. " I counsel thee to 
 keep the king's commandment, and that in regard of 
 the oath of God. Be not hasty to go out of his sight ; 
 stand nut in an evil thing ; for he doth whatsoever 
 pleaseth him. Where the word of a king is, there is 
 power; and who may say unto him, what dost thou .'"' 
 It is well enough known, that here the preacher directs 
 not his precepts to the Sanhedrim, or to a parliament, 
 but to private persons ; and such he commands to 
 " keep the king's commandment, and that in regard of 
 the oath of God." But as they swear allegiance to 
 kings, do not kings likewise swear to obey and main- 
 tain the laws of God, and those of their own country .-' 
 So the Reubenites and Gadites promise obedience to 
 Joshua, Josh. i. 17. " According as we hearkened unto 
 Moses in all things, so will we hearken unto thee ; 
 only the Lord thy God be with thee, as he was with 
 Moses." Here is an express condition. Hear the 
 preacher else, cb. ix. ver. 17. " The words of wise men 
 arc heard in quiet, more than the cry of him that ruleth 
 among fools." The next caution that Solomon gives 
 us, is, " Be not hasty to go out of his sight; stand not 
 in an evil thing; for he doth whatsoever pleaseth him." 
 That is, he does what he will to malefactors, whom the 
 law authorizes him to punish, and against whom he 
 may proceed with mercy or severity, as he sees occasion. 
 Here is nothing like tyranny ; nothing that a good 
 man needs be afraid of " Where the word of a king 
 is, there is power ; and who may say to him, What dost 
 thou i"' And yet we read of one, that not only said to 
 a king, « What dost thou i"' but told him, " Thou hast 
 done foolishly." But Samuel, you may say, was an 
 extraordinary person. I answer you with your own 
 words, which follow in the forty-ninth page of your 
 
 book, " What was there extraordinary," say you, " in 
 Saul or David ?" And so say I, what was there in 
 Samuel extraordinary .'' He was a prophet, you will 
 say ; so are they that now follow his example ; for they 
 act according to the will of God, either his revealed or 
 his sacred will, which yourself grant in your 50th page. 
 The preacher therefore in this place prudently advises 
 private persons not to contend with princes ; for it is 
 even dangerous to contend with any man, that is either 
 rich or powerful. But what then ? must therefore the 
 nobility of a nation, and all the inferiour magistrates, 
 and the whole body of the people, not dare to mutter 
 when a king raves and acts like a madman ? Must they 
 not oppose a foolish, wicked, and outrageous tyrant, 
 that perhaps seeks the destruction of all good men ? 
 Must they not endeavour to prevent his turning all 
 divine and human things upside down ? Must they 
 suffer him to massacre his people, burn their cities, 
 and commit such outrages upon them daily ; and 
 finally, to have perfect liberty to do what he lists with- 
 out control ? 
 
 O de Cappaducis eques catastris ! 
 Thou slavish knight of Cappadocia ! 
 
 Whom all free people, if you can have the confidence 
 hereafter to set your foot within a free country, ought 
 to cast out from amongst them, and send to some re- 
 mote parts of the world, as a prodigy of dire portent ; 
 or to condemn to some perpetual drudgery, as one de- 
 voted to slavery, solemnly obliging themselves, if they 
 ever let vou go, to undergo a worse slavery under some 
 cruel, silly tyrant : no man living can either devise 
 himself, or borrow from any other, expressions so full 
 of cruelty and contempt, as may not justly be applied 
 to you. But go on. " When the Israelites asked a 
 king of God, they said, they would set up a king that 
 should have the same rule and dominion over them, 
 that the kiug^ of their neighbour countries exercised 
 over their subjects. But the kings of the East we know 
 had an unlimited power," as Virgil testifies, 
 
 " Regem non sic ^Egyptus et ingens 
 
 " Lydia, nee populi Parthorum, et Medus Hydaspes 
 
 " Observant." 
 
 " No Eastern nation ever did adore 
 
 " The maje.sty of sovereign princes more." 
 
 First, what is that to us, what sort of kings the 
 Israelites desired .'* Especially since God was angry 
 with them, not only for desiring such a king as other 
 nations had, and not such a king as his own law de- 
 scribes, but barely for desiring a king at all ? Nor is 
 it credible, that they should desire an unjust king, and 
 one that should be out of the reach of all laws, who 
 could not bear the government of Samuel's sons, though 
 under the power of laws; but from their covetousness 
 sought refuge in a king. And lastly, the verse that 
 you quote out of Virgil does not prove, that the kings 
 of the East had an absolute unlimited power ; for tl)ose 
 bees, that he there speaks of, and who reverence their 
 kings, he says, more than the Egyptians or Medcs do 
 theirs, by the authority of the same poet : 
 
 • " Magnis agitant sub legibus aevnm." 
 
 " Live under certain fundamental laws." 
 
sso 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 They do not live under a king- then, that is tied to no 
 law. But now I will let you see how little reason you 
 have to think I bear you an ill-will. Most people 
 think you a knave ; but I will make it appear, that 
 you have only put on a knave's vizor for the present. 
 In your introduction to your discourse of the pope's 
 supremacy, you say, that some divines in the council 
 of Trent made use of the povemment, that is said to 
 be amongst bees, to prove the pope's supremacy. This 
 fancy you borrow from them, and ur^je it here with the 
 same malice that they did there. Now tliat very same 
 answer that you gave them, whilst you were an honest 
 man, now that you are become a knave, you shall give 
 yourself, and pull off with your own hand that vizor 
 you have now put on : " The bees," say you, " are a 
 state, and so natural philosophers call them ; they have 
 a king, but a harmless one; he is a leader, or captain, 
 rather than a king ; he never beats, nor pulls, nor kills 
 his subject bees." No wonder they are so observant 
 of him then : but in good faith, you had but ill luck 
 to meddle with these bees ; for though they are bees of 
 Trent, they shew you to be a drone. Aristotle, a most 
 exact writer of politics, affirms that the Asiatic monar- 
 chy, which yet himself calls barbarous, was according 
 to law. Politic. 3. And whereas he reckons up five se- 
 veral sorts of monarchies, four of those five he makes 
 governments according to laws, and with the con- 
 sent of the people ; and yet he calls them tyrannical 
 forms of government, because they lodge so much 
 power in one man's hand. But the kingdom of the 
 Lacedemonians, he says, is most properly a kingdom, 
 because there all power is not in the king. The fifth 
 sort of monarchy, which he calls rranfiaaiXeia, that is, 
 •where the king is all in all ; and to which he refers 
 that that you call the right of kings, which is a liberty 
 to do what they list ; he neither tells us when nor 
 where any such form of government ever obtained. 
 Nor seems he to have mentioned it for any other pur- 
 pose, than to shew how unjust, absurd, and tyrannical 
 a government it is. You say, that when Samuel would 
 deter the people from choosing a king, he propounded 
 to them this right of kings. But whence had Samuel 
 it? Had he it from the written law of God .'' That can- 
 not be. We have observed already, that the Scriptures 
 afford us a quite other scheme of sovereignty. Had 
 Samuel it then immediately from God himself by reve- 
 lation ? That is not likely neither; for God dislikes it, 
 discommends it, finds fault with it: so that Samuel 
 does not expound to the people any right of kings ap- 
 pointed by God ; but a corrupt and depraved manner 
 of governing, taken up by the pride and ambition of 
 princes. He tells not the people what their kings 
 ought to do, but what they would do. He told them 
 the manner of their king, as before he told us the man- 
 ner of the priests, the sons of Eli ; for he uses the same 
 word in both places (which you in the thirty-third page 
 of your book, by a Hebrew solecism too, call nsro). 
 That manner of theirs was wicked, and odious, and 
 tyrannical : it was no right, but great wrong. The 
 fathers have commented upon this place too : I will 
 instance in one, that may stand for a great many ; and 
 
 that is Sulpitius Severus, a contemporary and intimate 
 friend of St. Jerome, and, in St. Augustin's opinion, a 
 man of great wisdom and learning. He tells us in his 
 sacred history, that Samuel in that place acquaints the 
 people with the imperious rule of kings, and how they 
 used to lord it over their subjects. Certainly it cannot 
 be the right of kings to domineer and be imperious. 
 But according to Sallust, that lawful power and 
 authority that kings were entrusted with, for the pre- 
 servation of the public liberty, and the good of the 
 commonwealth, quickly degenerated into pride and 
 tyranny: and this is the sense of all orthodox divines, 
 and of all lawyei*s, upon that place of Samuel. And 
 you might have learned from Sichardus, that most of 
 the rabbins too were of the same mind ; at least, not 
 any one of them ever asserted, that the absolute in- 
 herent right of kings is there discoursed of. Your- 
 self in your fifth chapter, page 106, complain, that 
 " not only Clemens Alexandrinus, but all other ex- 
 positors mistake themselves upon this text:" and 
 you, I will warrant ye, are the only man that have 
 had the good luck to hit the mark. Now, what a piece 
 of folly and impudence is this in you to maintain, in 
 opposition to all orthodox expositors, that those very 
 actions, which God so much condemns, are the right of 
 kings, and to pretend law for them ! Though yourself 
 confess, that that right is very often exercised in com- 
 mitting outrages, being injurious, contumelious, and 
 the like. Was any man ever to that degree sui juris, 
 so much his own master, as that he might lawfully 
 prey upon mankind, bear down all that stood in his 
 way, and turn all things upside down ? Did the Ro- 
 mans ever maintain, as you say they did, that any man 
 might do these things suo jure, by virtue of some in- 
 herent right in himself.'' Sallust indeed makes C. 
 Memmius, a tribune of the people, in an invective 
 speech of his against the pride of the nobility, and 
 their escaping unpunished, howsoever they misbehaved 
 themselves, to use these words, viz. " To do whatever 
 one has a mind to, without fear of punishment, is to be 
 a king." This saying you catched hold of, thinking it 
 would make for your purpose ; but consider it a little 
 better, and you will find yourself deceived. Does he 
 in that place assert the right of kings ? or does he not 
 blame the common people, and chide them for their 
 sloth, in suffering their nobility to lord it over them, as 
 if they were out of the reach of all law, and in submit- 
 ting again to that kingly tyranny, which, together 
 with their kings themselves, their ancestors had law- 
 fully and justly rejected and banished from amongst 
 them .'' If you had consulted Tully, you would have 
 understood both Sallust and Samuel better. In his 
 oration pro C. Rabirio, " There is none of us ignorant," 
 says he, " of the manner of king%. These are their 
 lordly dictates : mind w hat I say, and do accordingly." 
 Many passages to this purpose he quotes out of poets, 
 and calls them not the right, but the custom or manner 
 of kings ; and he says, we ought to read and consider 
 them, not only for curiosity sake, but that we may 
 learn to beware of them, and avoid them. You per- 
 ceive how miserably you are come off with Sallust, 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 351 
 
 who though he be as much an enemy to tyranny as 
 any other author whatsoever, you thouj^ht would have 
 patronized this tyrannical rig'ht that you are establish- 
 ing'. Take my word for it, the right of kings seems to 
 be tottering, and even to further its own ruin, by rely- 
 ing upon such weak props for its support ; and by en- 
 deavouring to maintain itself by such examples and 
 authorities, as would hasten its downfal, if it were fur- 
 ther off than it is. " The extremity of right or law," 
 you say, " is the height of injury, Summum jus summa 
 injuria ; this saying is verified most properly in kings, 
 who, when they go to the utmost of their right, fall into 
 those courses, in which Samuel makes the rights of 
 kings to consist." And it is a miserable right, which, 
 when you have said all you can for, you can no other- 
 wise defend, than by confessing, that it is the greatest 
 injury that may be. The extremity of right or law is 
 said to be, when a man ties himself up to niceties, 
 dwells upon letters and syllables, and in the mean 
 time neglects tha intent >nd equity of the law ; or 
 when a written law is cunningly and maliciously in- 
 terpreted ; this Cicero makes to have been the rise of 
 that common saying. But since it is certain that all 
 right flows from the fountain of justice, so that nothing 
 can possibly be any man's right that is not just, it is a 
 most wicked thing in you to affirm, that for a king to 
 be unjust, rapacious, tyrannical, and as ill as the worst 
 of them ever was, is according to the right of kings ; 
 and to tell us that a holy prophet would have persuaded 
 the people to such a senseless thing. For whether 
 written or unwritten, whether extreme or remiss, what 
 right can any man have to be injurious ? Which, lest 
 you should confess to be true of other men, but not of 
 kings, I have one man's authority to object to you, 
 who, I think, was a king likewise, and professes that 
 that right of kings, that you speak of, is odious both to 
 God and himself: it is in the 94th psalm, " Shall the 
 throne of iniquity have fellowship with thee, that fra- 
 meth mischief by a law ?" Be not therefore so inju- 
 rious to God, as to ascribe this doctrine to him, viz. that 
 all manner of wicked and flagitious actions are but the 
 right of kings ; since himself tells us, that he abhors 
 all fellowship with wicked princes for this very reason, 
 because, under pretence of sovereignty, they create 
 misery and vexation to their subjects. Neither bring 
 up a false accusation against a prophet of God ; for by 
 making him to teach us in this place what the right of 
 kings is, you do not produce the right Samuel, but 
 such another empty shadow as was raised by the witch 
 ofEndor. Though for my own part, I verily believe that 
 that infernal Samuel would not have been so great a 
 liar, but that he would have confessed, that what you 
 call the right of kings, is tyranny. We read indeed 
 of impieties countenanced by law, Jus datum sceleri : 
 you yourself confess, that they are bad kings that have 
 made use of this boundless licence of theirs to do every 
 thing. Now, this right that you have introduced for 
 the destruction of mankind, not proceeding from God, 
 as I have proved it does not, must needs come from the 
 devil ; and that it does really so, will appear more 
 rlearly hereafter. " By virtue of this liberty, say you, 
 
 princes may if they will." And for this, you pretend 
 to have Cicero's authority. I am always willing to 
 mention your authorities, for it generally happens, that 
 the very authors you quote them out of, give you an 
 answer themselves. Hear else what Cicero says in his 
 4th Philippic, "What cause of war can be more just 
 and warrantable than to avoid slavery ? For though a 
 people may have the good fortune to live under a 
 gentle master, yet those are in a miserable condition, 
 whose prince may tyrannize over them if he will." 
 May, that is, can ; has power enough so to do. If he 
 meant it of his right, he would contradict himself, and 
 make that an unjust cause of war, which himself had 
 affirmed with the same breath to be a most just one. 
 It is not therefore the right of all kings that you de- 
 scribe, but the injuriousness, and force, and violence 
 of some. Then you tell us what private men may 
 do. " A private man," say you, " may lie, may be un- 
 grateful :" and so may kings, but what then ? May 
 they therefore plunder, murder, ravish, without control.'* 
 It is equally prejudicial and destructive to the com- 
 monwealth, whether it be their own prince, or a robber, 
 or a foreign enemy, that spoils, massacres, and enslaves 
 them. And questionless, being both alike enemies of 
 human society, the one, as well as the other, may law- 
 fully be opposed and punished ; and their own prince 
 the rather, because he, though raised to that dignity 
 by the honours that his people have conferred upon him, 
 and being bound by his oath to defend the public 
 safety, betrays it notwithstanding all. At last you 
 grant, that " Moses prescribes laws, according to which 
 the king that the people of Israel should choose, ought 
 to govern, though different from this right that Samuel 
 proposes;" which words contain a double contradiction 
 to what you have said before. For whereas you had 
 affirmed, that a king was bound by no law, here you 
 confess he is. And you set up two contrary rights, one 
 described by Moses, and another by Samuel, which is 
 absurd. " But," says the prophet, "you shall be ser- 
 vants to j-our king." Though I should grant that the 
 Israelites were really so, it would not |)resently follow, 
 that it was the right of their kings to have them so ; 
 but that by the usurpation and injustice of most of 
 them, they were reduced to that condition. For the 
 prophet had foretold them, that that importunate peti- 
 tion of theirs would bring a punishment from God 
 upon them ; not because it would be their king's right 
 so to harass them, but because they themselves had 
 deserved it should be so. If kings are out of the reach 
 of the law, so as that they may do what they list, they 
 are more absolute than any masters, and their subjects 
 in a more despicable condition than the worst of slaves. 
 The law of God provided some redress from them, 
 though of another nation, if their masters were cruel 
 and unreasonable towards them. And can we imagine, 
 that the whole body of the people of a free nation, 
 though oppressed and tyrannized over, and preyed 
 upon, should be left remediless ? That they had no law^ 
 to protect them, no sanctuary to betake themselves to ?^ 
 Can we think, that they were delivered from the bond- 
 age they were under to the Egyptian kings, to be re- 
 
352 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 duced into a worse to oue of their own brethren ? AH 
 which being- neither agreeable to the law of God, nor 
 to common sense, nothing can be more evident, than 
 that the prophet declares to the people the manner, and 
 not the right, of kings; nor the manner of all kings, 
 but of most. Then you come to the rabbins, and quote 
 two of them, but you have as bad luck with them here, 
 as you had before. For it is plain, that that other chapter 
 that rabbi Joses speaks of, and which contains, he says, 
 the right of kings, is that in Deuteronomy, and not 
 in Samuel. For rabbi Judas says very truly, and against 
 you, that that discourse of Samuel's was intended only 
 to frighten the people. It is a most pernicious doc- 
 trine, to maintain that to be any one's right, which in 
 itself is flat injustice, unless you have a mind to speak 
 by contraries. And that Samuel intended to affrighten 
 them, appears by the 18th verso, " And ye shall cry out 
 in that day, because of your king, which ye shall have 
 chosen you, and I will not hear you in that day, saith 
 the Lord." That was to be their punishment for their 
 obstinacy in persisting to desire a king, against the 
 mind and will of God ; and yet they are not forbidden 
 here either to pray against him, or to endeavour to rid 
 themselves of him. For if they might lawfully pray 
 to God against him, without doubt they might use all 
 lawful means for their own deliverance. For what 
 man living, when he finds himself in any calamity, 
 betakes himself to God, so as to neglect his own duty, 
 in order to a redress, and rely upon his lazy prayers 
 only .'• But be it how it will, what is all this to the right 
 of kings, or of the English people ? who neither asked 
 a king against the will of God, nor had one appointed 
 us by God, but by the right that all nations have to 
 appoint their own governors, appointed a king over us 
 by laws of our own, neither in obedience to, nor against, 
 any command of God.' And this being the case, for 
 aught I see, we have done well in deposing our king, 
 and are to be commended for it, since the Israelites 
 sinned in asking one. And this the event has made 
 appear; for we, when we had a king, prayed to God 
 against him, and he heard us, and delivered us : but 
 the Jews (who not being under a kingly government, 
 desired a king) he suffered to live in slavery under 
 one, till, at last, after their return from the Babylonish 
 captivity, they betook themselves to their former go- 
 vernment again. Then you come to g^ve us a display 
 of your talmudical learning; but you have as ill suc- 
 cess with that as you have had with all the rest. For, 
 whilst you are endeavouring to prove that kings are 
 not liable to any temporal judicature, you quote an au- 
 thority out of the treatise of the Sanhedrim, " that the 
 king neither is judged of others, nor does himself judj^l^c 
 any." Which is against the people's own petition in 
 Samuel; for they desired a king that might judge 
 them. You labour in vain to salve this, by telling us, 
 that it is to be understood of those kings that reigned 
 after the Babylonish captivity. For then, what say 
 ye to Maimonides .-* He makes this diflference betwixt 
 the kings of Israel and those of Juda ; that the kings 
 of the posterity of David judge, and are judged ; but 
 the kings of Israel do neither. You contradict and 
 
 quarrel with yourself or your rabbins, and still do mv 
 work for me. This, say you, is not to be understood 
 of the kings of Israel in their first institution ; for in 
 the 17th verse it is said, " you shall be his servants ;" 
 that is, be shall use you to it, not that he shall have 
 any right to make you so. Or if you understand it of 
 their king's right, it is but a judgment of God upon 
 them for asking a king; the effects of which they were 
 sensible of under most of their kings, though not per- 
 haps under all. But you need no antagonists, you air 
 such a perpetual adversary to yourself. For you tell 
 us now a story, as if you were arguing on my side, 
 how that first Aristobulus, and after him Janneeus sur- 
 named Alexander, did not receive that kingly right that 
 they pretended to, from the Sanhedrim, that great trea- 
 sury and oracle of the laws of that nation, but usurped 
 it by degrees against the will of the senate. For whose 
 sake, you say, that childish fable of the principal men 
 of that assembly being struck dead by the angel Ga- 
 briel was first invented. And thus you confess, that 
 this magnificent prerogative, upon which you seem 
 mainly to rely, viz. " that kings are not to be judged 
 by any upon earth, was grounded upon this worse than 
 an old wife's tale, that is, upon a rabbinical fable." But 
 that the Hebrew kings were liable to be called in 
 question for their actions, and to be punished with 
 stripes, if they were found faulty, Sichardus shews at 
 large out of the writings of the rabbins, to which author 
 you are indebted for all that you employ of that sort of 
 learning, and yet you have the impudence to be thwart- 
 ing with him. Nay, we read in Scripture, that Saul 
 thought himself bound by a decree of his own making; 
 and in obedience thereunto, that he cast lots with his 
 son Jonathan which of them two should die. Uzzias 
 likewise, when he was thrust out of the temple by the 
 priests as a leper, submitted as every private person in 
 such a case ought to do, and ceased to be a king. Sup- 
 pose he should have refused to go out of the temple, 
 and lay down the government, and live alone, and had 
 resolved to assert that kingly right of not being sub- 
 ject to any law, do you think the priests, and the people 
 of the Jews, would have suffered the temple to be de- 
 filed, the laws violated, and live themselves in danger 
 of the infection ? It seems there are laws against a 
 leprous king, but none against a tyrant. Can any 
 man possibly be so mad and foolish as to fancy, that 
 the laws should so far provide for the people's health, 
 as though some noisome distemper should seize upon 
 the king himself, yet to prevent the infection's reaching 
 them, and make no provision for the security of their 
 lives and estates, and the very being of the whole state, 
 against the tyranny of a cruel, unjust prince, which is 
 incomparably the greater mischief of the two ? " But," 
 say you, "there can be no precedent shewn of anyone 
 king that has been arraigned in a court of justice, 
 and condemned to die." Sichardus answers that well 
 enough. It is all one, says he, as if one should argue 
 on this manner : The emperor of Germany never was 
 summoned to appear before one of the prince electors ; 
 therefore, if the prince elector Palatine should impeach 
 the emperor, he were not bound to plead to it ; though 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASTUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 353 
 
 it appears by the golden bull, that Charles the fourth 
 subjected himself and his successors to that cognizance 
 and jurisdiction. But no wonder if kings were in- 
 dulged in their ambition, and their exorbitances passed 
 by, when the times were so corrupt and depraved, that 
 even private men, if they had either money or interest, 
 might escape the law, though guilty of crimes of never 
 so high a nature. That dvvmvOvvov, that you speak 
 of, that is to be wholly independent upon any other, 
 and accountable to none upon earth, which you say is 
 I peculiar to the majesty of sovereign princes, Aristotle 
 I in the 4th book of his Pol. Ch. 10. calls a most tyran- 
 nical form of government, and not in the least to be 
 ! endured by a free people. And that kings are not 
 I liable to be questioned for their actions, you prove by 
 I the testimony of a very worthy author, that barbarous 
 tyrant Mark Antony ; one of those that subverted the 
 commonwealth of Rome: and yet he himself, when he 
 undertook an expedition against the Parthians, sum- 
 moned Herod before him, to answer to a charge of 
 murder, and would have punished him, but that Herod 
 bribed him. So that Antony's asserting this preroga- 
 tive royal, and your defence of King Charles, come both 
 out of one and the same spring. " And it is very 
 reasonable," say you, " that it should be so; for kings 
 derive their authority from God alone." What kings 
 are those, I pray, that do so ? For I deny, that there 
 ever were any such kings in the world, that derived 
 their authority from God alone. Saul, the first king of 
 Israel, had never reigned, but that the people desired 
 a king, even against the will of God ; and though he 
 was proclaimed king once at Mizpah,yet after that he 
 lived a private life, and looked to his father's cattle, 
 till he was created so the second time by the people at 
 Gilgal. And what think ye of Dai id ? Though he 
 had been anointed once by God, was he not anointed 
 a second time in Hebron by the tribe of Judah, and 
 after that by all the people of Israel, and that after a 
 mutual covenant betwixt him and them ? 2 Sam. v. 
 1 Chron.xi. Now, a covenant lays an obligation upon 
 kings, and restrains them within bounds. Solomon, you 
 say, " succeeded him in the throne of the Lord, and 
 was acceptable to all men :" 1 Chron. xxix. So that 
 it is something to be well-pleasing in the eyes of the 
 people. Jehoiadah the priest made Joash king, but 
 first he made him and the people enter into a covenant 
 to one another, 2 Kings xi. I confess that these kings, 
 and all that reigned of David's posterity, were ap- 
 pointed to the kingdom both by God and the people ; 
 but of all other kings, of what country soever, I affirm, 
 that they are made so by the people only : nor can you 
 make it appear, that they are appointed by God, any 
 otherwise than as all other things, great and small, 
 are said to be appointed by him, because nothing comes 
 to pass without his providence. So that I allow the 
 throne of David was in a peculiar manner called " the 
 throne of the Lord :" whereas the thrones of other 
 princes are no otherwise God's, than all other things 
 in the world are his ; which if you would, you might 
 have learnt out of the same chapter, ver. U, 12. 
 ♦* Thine, Lord, is the greatness, &c. for all that is in 
 
 the heaven and in the earth is thine. Both riches and 
 honour come of thee, and thou reignest over all." And 
 this is so often repeated, not to puff up kings, but to 
 put them in mind, though they think themselves gods, 
 that yet there is a God above them, to whom they owe 
 whatever they are and have. And thus we easily un- 
 derstand what the poets, and the Essenes among t!)e 
 Jews, mean, when they tell us, that it is by God that 
 kings reign, and that they are of Jupiter ; for so all of 
 us are of God, we are all his offspring. So that this 
 universal right of Almighty God's, and the interest 
 that he has in princes, and their thrones, and all that 
 belongs to them, does not at all derogate from the 
 people's right; but that notwithstanding all this, all 
 other kings, not particularly and by name appointed 
 by God, owe their sovereignty to the people only, and 
 consequently are accountable to them for the manage- 
 ment of it. The truth of which doctrine, though the 
 common people are apt to flatter their kings, yet they 
 themselves acknowledge, whether good ones, as Sai-pe- 
 don in Homer is described to have been ; or bad ones, 
 as those tyrants in the lyrick poet : 
 
 rXaiice, T«ij Si) vioi TtTtjiiiyncBa, (loKi'sa, &C. 
 
 Glaucus, in Lycia we're ador'd like gods : 
 What makes 'twixt us and others so great odds ? 
 
 He resolves the question himself: " Because, says 
 be, we excel others in beroical virtues : Let us fight 
 manfully then, says he, lest our countrymen tax us 
 with sloth and cowardice." In which words he inti- 
 mates to us, both that kings derive their grandeur from 
 the people, and that for their conduct and behaviour in 
 war they are accountable to them. Bad kings in- 
 deed, though to cast some terrour into people's minds, 
 and beget a reverence of themselves, they declare to the 
 world,thatGodonly is the author of kingly government; 
 in their hearts and minds they reverence no other deity 
 but that of fortune, according to that passage in Horace : 
 
 Te Dacus asper, te profugi Scythae, 
 Regumque matres barbaroruin,et 
 Purpurei metuunt tyranni. 
 
 Injurioso ne pede prortias 
 
 Stantem colurrtnam, neu populus frequens 
 
 Ad arnia cessantes, ad arma 
 
 Concitet, imperiumque frangat. 
 
 " All barb'rous people, and their princes too, 
 " All purple tyrants honour you ; 
 " The very wand'ring Scythians do. 
 
 " Support the pillar of the Roman state, 
 
 " Lest all men be involv'd in one man's fate. 
 
 " Continue us in wealth and peace; 
 
 " Let wars and tumults ever cease." 
 
 So that if it is by God that kings now-a-days reign, 
 it is by God too that the people assert their own liberty; 
 since all things are of him, and by him. I am sure 
 the Scripture bears witness to both; that by him kings 
 reign, and that by him they are cast down from their 
 thrones. And yet experience teaches us, that both 
 these things are brought about by the people, oftener 
 than by God. Be this right of kings, therefore, what 
 it will, the right of the people is as much from God a& 
 
Sft4 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 it. And whencTcr any people, without some visible 
 designation of God himself, appoint a kinjf over them, 
 they have the same rig-ht to put him down, that they 
 had to set him up at first. And certainly it is a more 
 godlike action to depose a tyrant than to set up one : 
 and there appears much more of God in the people, 
 when they depose an unjust prince, than in a king that 
 oppresses an innocent people. Nay, the people have a 
 warrant from God to judge wicked princes; for God 
 has conferred this very honour upon those that are 
 dear to him, that celebrating the praises of Christ their 
 own king, " they shall bind in chains the kings of the 
 nations, (under which appellation all tyrants under the 
 gospel are included,) and execute the judgments written 
 upon them that challenge to themselves an exemption 
 from all written laws," Psalm cxlix. So that there is 
 but little reason left for that wicked and foolish opinion, 
 that kings, who commonly are the worst of men, should 
 be so high in God's account, as that he should have 
 put the world under them, to be at their beck, and be 
 governed according to their humour; and that for 
 their sakes alone he should have reduced all mankind, 
 whom he made after his own image, into the same 
 condition with brutes. After all this, rather than say 
 nothing, you produce M. Aurelius as a countenancer 
 of tyranny; but you had better have let him alone. I 
 cannot say whether he ever affirmed, that princes are 
 accountable only before God's tribunal. ButXiphiline 
 indeed, out of whom you quote those words of M. Au- 
 relius, mentions a certain government, which he calls 
 an Autarchy, of which he makes God the only judge: 
 TTtpi dvrapxiaQ 6 QioQ povoi Kpiviiv Ivvarai. But that this 
 word Autarchy and Monarchy are synonymous, I can- 
 not easily persuade myself to believe. And the more 
 I read what goes before, the less I find myself inclinable 
 to think so. And certainly whoever considers the 
 context, will not easily apprehend what coherence this 
 sentence has with it, and must needs wonder how it 
 comes so abruptly into the text ; especially since Mar- 
 cus Aurelius, that mirror of princes, carried himself 
 towards the people, as Capitolinus tells us, just as if 
 Rome had been a commonwealth still. And we all 
 know, that when it was so, the supreme power was in 
 the people. The same emperor honoured the memory 
 of Thraseas, and Helvidius, and Cato, and Dio, and 
 Brutus ; who all were tyrant-slayers, or affected the 
 reputation of being thought so. In the first book that 
 he writes of his own life, he says, that he proposed to 
 himself a form of government, under which all men 
 might equally enjoy the benefit of the law, and right 
 and justice be equally administered to all. And in his 
 fourth book he says, the law is master, and not he. 
 He acknowledged the right of the senate and the people, 
 and their interest in all things : we are so far, says he, 
 from having any thing of our own, that we live in your 
 houses. These things Xiphiline relates of him. So 
 little did he arrogate aught to himself by virtue of his 
 sovereigfn right. When he died, he recommended his 
 son to the Romans, for his successor, if they should 
 think be deserved it. So far was he from pretending 
 to a commission from Heaven to exercise that absolute 
 
 and imaginary right of sovereignty, that Autarchy, 
 that 3'ou tell us of. " All the Latin and Greek books 
 are full of authorities of this nature," But we have 
 heard none of them yet. " So are the Jewish au- 
 thors." And yet, you say, " the Jews in many things 
 allowed but too little to their princes." Nay,jou will 
 find that both the Greeks and the Latins allowed 
 much less to tyrants. And how little the Jews allow- 
 ed them would appear, if that book that Samuel 
 " wrote of the manner of the kingdom" were extant ; 
 which book, the Hebrew doctors tell us, their kings 
 tore in pieces and burnt, that they might be more at 
 liberty to tyrannize over the people without control or 
 fear of punishment. Now look about ye again, and 
 catch hold of somewhat or other. In the last place, 
 you come to wrest David's words in the 17th Psalm, 
 " let my sentence come forth from thy presence." 
 Therefore, says Barnachmoni, " God only can judge 
 the king." And yet it is most likely, that David pen- 
 ned this psalm when he was persecuted by Saul, at 
 which time, though himself were anointed, he did not 
 decline being judged even by Jonathan: "Notwith- 
 standing, if there be iniquity in me, slay me thyself," 
 1 Sam. XX. At least, in this psalm he does no more 
 than what any person in the world would do upon the 
 like occasion ; being falsely accused by men, he ap- 
 peals to the judgment of God himself, "let thine 
 eyes look upon the thing that is right; thou hast 
 proved and visited mine heart," &c. What relation 
 has this to a temporal judicature.'* Certainly they do 
 no good office to the right of kings, that thus discover 
 the weakness of its foundation. Then you come with 
 that threadbare argument, which of all others is most 
 in vogue with our courtiers, " Against thee, thee only 
 have I sinned," Psalm li. 6. As if David in the midst 
 of his repentance, when overwhelmed with sorrow, 
 and almost drowned in tears, he was humbly imploring 
 God's mercy, had any thoughts of this kingly right of 
 his when his heart was so low, that he thought he de- 
 served not the right of a slave. And can we think, 
 that he despised all the people of God, his own bre- 
 thren, to that degree, as to believe that he might mur- 
 der them, plunder them, and commit adultery with 
 their wives, and yet not sin against them all this while? 
 So holy a man could never be guilty of such insuffer- 
 able pride, nor have so little knowledge either of him- 
 self, or of his duty to his neighbour. So without doubt 
 when he says, " against thee only," he meant, against 
 thee chiefly have 1 sinned, &c. But whatever he 
 means, the words of a psalm are too full of poetry, and 
 this psalm too full of passion, to afford us any exact 
 definitions of right and justice; nor is it proper t<» 
 argue any thing of that nature from them. " But 
 David was never questioned for this, nor made to plead 
 for his life before the Sanhedrim." What then ? How 
 should they know, that any such thing had been, which 
 was done so privately, that perhaps for some years 
 after not above one or two were privy to it, as such 
 secrets there are in most courts? 2 Sam. xii. " Thou 
 hast done this thing in secret." Besides, what if the 
 senate should neglect to punish private persons ? Would 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 355 
 
 any infer, that therefore they ought not to he punished 
 at all ? But the reason why David was not proceeded 
 against as a malefactor, is not much in the dark : he 
 had condemned himself in the 5th verse, " The man that 
 hath done this thing shall surely die." To which the 
 prophet presently replies, " Thou art the man." So 
 that in the prophet's judgment, as well as his own, he 
 was worthy of death : but God, by his sovereign right 
 over all things, and of his great mercy to David, ab- 
 solves him from the guilt of his sin, and the sentence 
 of death which he had pronounced against himself; 
 verse 13th, " The Lord hath put away thy sin, thou 
 sbalt not die." The next thing you do is to rail at 
 some bloody advocate or other, and you take a deal of 
 pains to refute the conclusion of his discourse. Let him 
 look to that ; I will endeavour to be as short as I can 
 in what I have undertaken to perform. But some 
 things I must not pass by without taking notice of; as 
 fii-st and foremost your notorious contradictions; for in 
 the 30th page you say, " The Israelites do not depre- 
 cate an unjust, rapacious, tyrannical king, one as bad 
 as the worst of kings are." And yet, page 42, you are 
 very smart upon your advocate, for maintaining that 
 the Israelites asked for a tyrant : " Would they have 
 leaped out of the fryingpan into the fire," say you, 
 "and groan under the cruelty of the worst of tyrants, 
 rather than live under bad judges, especially being 
 used to such a form of government.''" First, you said 
 the Hebrews would rather live under tyrants and 
 judges, here you say they would rather live under 
 judges than tyrants; and that "they desired nothing 
 less than a tyrant." So that your advocate may 
 answer you out of your own book. For according 
 to your principles it is every king's right to be a ty- 
 rant. What you say next is very true, " the supreme 
 power was then in the people, which appears by their 
 own rejecting their judges, and making choice of a 
 kingly government." Remember this, when I shall 
 have occasion to make use of it. You sa}', that God 
 gave the children of Israel a king as a thing good 
 and profitable for them, and deny that he gave them 
 one in his anger, as a punishment for their sin. But 
 that will receive an easy answer; for to what purpose 
 should they cry to God because of the king that they 
 had chosen, if it were not because a kingly government 
 is an evil thing; not in itself, but because it most 
 commonly does, as Samuel forewarns the people that 
 theirs would, degenerate into pride and tyranny? If 
 you are not yet satisfied, hark what you say yourself; 
 acknowledge your own hand, and blush ; it is in your 
 " Apparatus ad Primatum : God gave them a king in 
 his anger," say you, " being offended at their sin in 
 rejecting him from ruling over them ; and so the chris- 
 tian church, as a punishment for its forsaking the pure 
 worship of God, has been subjected to the more than 
 kingly government of one mortal head." So that if 
 your own comparison holds, either God gave the chil- 
 dren of Israel a king as an evil thing, and as a punish- 
 ment, or he has set up the pope for the good of the 
 church. Was there ever any thing more light and mad 
 than this man is.^ Who would trust him in the smallest 
 2 A 
 
 matters, that in things of so great concern says and un- 
 says without any consideration in the world ? You 
 tell us in your twenty-ninth page, " that by the consti- 
 tution of all nations, kings are bound by no law." That 
 " this had been the judgment both of the eastern and 
 western part of the world." And yet, page 43, you 
 say, " That all the kings of the east ruled Kara vofiov, 
 according to law, nay, that the ver^ kings of Egypt 
 in all matters whatsoever, whether great or small, were 
 tied to laws." Though in the beginning of this chap- 
 ter 3'ou had undertook to demonstrate, That "kings are 
 bound by no laws, that they give laws to others, but 
 have none prescribed to themselves." For my part I 
 have no reason to be angry with yon, for either you 
 are mad, or of our side. You do not defend the king's 
 cause, but argue against him, and play the fool with 
 him : or if you are in earnest, that epigram of Catullus, 
 
 Tanto pessimus omnium poeta, 
 Quanto tu optimus omnium patronus. 
 
 The worst of poets, I myself declare. 
 
 By how much you the best of patrons are. 
 
 That epigram, I say, may be turned, and very properly 
 applied to you ; for there never was so good a poet as 
 you are a bad patron. Unless that stupidity, that you 
 complain your advocate is " immersed over head and 
 ears in," has blinded the eyes of your own understand- 
 ing too, I will make you now sensible that you are 
 become a very brute yourself. For now you come and 
 confess, that " the kings of all nations have laws pre- 
 scribed to them." But then you say again, " They are 
 not so under the power of them, as to be liable to cen- 
 sure or punishment of deatli, if they break them." 
 ^\'hich yet you have proved neither from Scripture, nor 
 from any good author. Observe then in short ; to pre- 
 scribe municipal laws to such as are not bound by them, 
 is silly and ridiculous : and to punish all others, but 
 leave some one man at liberty to commit all sort of 
 impieties without fear of punishment, is most unjust; 
 the law being general, and not making any exception; 
 neither of which can be supposed to hold place in the 
 constitutions of any wise lawmaker, much less in those 
 of God's own making. But that all may perceive how 
 unable you are to prove out of the writings of the Jews, 
 what you undertook in this chapter to make appear by 
 them, you confess of your own accord, That " there 
 are some rabbins, Avho affirm that their forefathers ought 
 not to have had any other king than God himself; and 
 that he set other kings over them for their punishment." 
 And of those men's opinion 1 declare myself to be. It 
 is not fitting or decent, that any man should be a king, 
 that does not far excel all his subjects. But where 
 men are equals, as in all governments very many are, 
 they ought to have an equal interest in the govern- 
 ment, and hold it by turns. But that all men should 
 be slaves to one that is their equal, or (as it happens 
 most commonly) far inferiour to them, and very often 
 a fool, who can so much as entertain such a thought 
 without indignation .'* Nor does " it make for the ho- 
 nour of a kingly government, that our Saviour was of 
 
356 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 the posterity of some king«," more than it does for tlie 
 commendation of the worst of kings, that he was the 
 offspriiiy of some of them too. " The Messias is a king." 
 We acknowledge Ijim so to be, and rejoice that he is 
 so ; and pray that his kingdom may come, for he is 
 worthy: nor is there any other equal, or next to him. 
 And yet a kingly government being put into the hands 
 of unworthy and undeserving persons, as most com- 
 monly it is, may well be thought to have done more 
 harm than good to mankind. Nor does it follow for all 
 this that all kings, as such, are tyrants. But suppose 
 it did, as for argument-sake I will allow it does, lest 
 you should think I am too hard with ye; make you 
 the best use of it you can. " Then, say you, God him- 
 self may properly be said to be the king of tyrants, nay, 
 himself, the worst of all tyrants." If the first of these 
 conclusions does not follow, another does, which may 
 be drawn from most parts of your book, viz. That you 
 perpetually contradict, not onl^' the Scriptures, but 
 your own self. For in the very last foregoing period 
 you had affirmed, that " God was the king of all things, 
 having himself created them." Now be created tyrants 
 and devils, and consequently, by your own reason, is 
 the king of such. The second of these conclusions we 
 detest, and wish that blasphemous mouth of yours were 
 stopped up, with which you affirm God to be the worst 
 of t}Tants, if he be, as you often say he is, the king 
 and lord of such. Nor do you much advantage your 
 cause by telling us, that " Moses was a king, and had 
 the absolute and supreme power of a king." For we 
 could be content that any other were so, that could 
 " refer our mattere to God, as Moses did, and consult 
 with him about our affairs," Exod. xviii. 19. But 
 neither did Moses, notwithstanding his great famili- 
 arity with God, ever assume a liberty of doing what he 
 would himself What says he of himself; " the people 
 come unto me to inquire of God." They came not then 
 to receive Moses's own dictates and commands. Then 
 says Jethro, ver. 19. " Be thou for the people to God- 
 ward, that thou mayst bring their causes unto God." 
 And Moses himself says, Deut. iv. 5. " I have taught 
 you statutes and judgments, even as the Lord my God 
 commanded me." Hence it is that he is said to have 
 been " faithful in all the house of God." Numb. xii. 7. 
 So that the Lord Jehovah himself was the people's 
 king, and Moses no other than as it were an interpre- 
 ter or a messenger betwixt him and them. Nor can 
 you, without impiety and sacrilege, transfer this abso- 
 lute supreme power and authority, from God to a man, 
 (not having any warrant from the word of God so to 
 do,) which Moses used only as a deputy or substitute to 
 God ; under whose eye, and in whose presence, him- 
 self and the people always were. But now, for an ag- 
 gravation of your wickedness, though here you make 
 Moses to have exercised an absolute and unlimited 
 power in your " Apparat. ad Primat." page 230, you 
 say, that " he, togetlier with the seventy elders, ruled 
 the people, and that himself was the chief of the people, 
 but not their master." If Moses therefore were a king, 
 as certainly he was, and the best of kings, and had a 
 supreme and legal power, as you say he had, and yet 
 
 neither was the people's master nor governed them 
 alone; then, according to you, kings, though indued 
 with the supreme power, are not by virtue of that so- 
 vereign and kingly right of theirs lords over the people, 
 nor ought to govern them alone ; much less according 
 to their own will and pleasure. After all this, you have 
 the impudence to feign a command from God to that 
 people, " to set up a king over them, as soon as they 
 should be possessed of the Holy Land," Deut. xvii. 
 For you craftily leave out the former words, " and shah 
 say, I will set a king over me," &c. And now call to 
 mind what you said before, page 42, and what I said 
 I should have occasion to make use of, viz. " That the 
 power was then in the people, and that they were en- 
 tirely free." What follows, argues you either mad or 
 irreligious; take whether you list: " God," say you, 
 " having so long before appointed a kingly govern- 
 ment, as best and most proper for that people ; what 
 shall we say to Samuel's opposing it, and God's own 
 acting, as if himself were against it .•* How do these 
 things agree .■"' He finds himself caught; and observe 
 now with how great malice against the prophet, and 
 impiety against God, he endeavours to disentangle 
 himself. " We must consider," says he, " that Samuel's 
 own sons then judged the people, and the peoj)le re- 
 jected them because of their corruption ; now Samuel was 
 loth his sons should be laid aside, and God, to gratify 
 the prophet, intimated to him, as if himself were not 
 very well pleased with it." Speak out, ye wretch, 
 and never mince the matter : you mean, God dealt 
 deceitfully with Samuel, and he with the people. It 
 is not your advocate, but yourself, that are " frantic 
 and distracted ;" who cast off all reverence to God 
 Almighty, so you may but seem to honour the king. 
 Would Samuel prefer the interest of his sons, and 
 their ambition, and their covetousness, before the 
 general good of all the people, when they asked a 
 thing that would be good and profitable for them ? 
 Can we think, that he would impose upon them by 
 cunning and subtilty, and make them believe things 
 that were not ? Or if we should suppose all this true of 
 Samuel, would God himself countenance and gratify 
 him in it ; would he dissemble with the people .•* So 
 that either that was not the right of kings, which Sam- 
 uel taught the people ; or else that right, by the testi- 
 mony both of God and the prophet, was an evil thing, 
 was burdensome, injurious, unprofitable, and charge- 
 able to the commonwealth : or lastly, (which must not 
 be admitted,) God and the prophet deceived the people. 
 God frequently protests, that he was extremely dis- 
 pleased with them for asking a king. V. 7th, " They 
 have not rejected thee, but they have rejected me, that 
 I should not reign over them." As if it were a kind 
 of idolatry to ask a king that would even suffer him- 
 self to be adored, and assume almost divine honour to 
 himself And certainly, they that subject themselvt 
 to a worldly master, and set him above all laws, com* 
 but a little short of choosing a strange god : and 
 strange one it commonly is ; brutish, and void of 
 sense and reason. So 1st of Sam. chap. 10th, v. 19th^ 
 " And ye have this day rejected your God, who himsel 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 357 
 
 saved you out of all your adversities and your tribula- 
 tion, and ye have said unto him, Nay, but set a king- 
 over us ;" &c. and chap. 12th, v. 12th, " Ye said unto 
 me, Nay, but a king shall reign over us ; when the Lord 
 your God was your king:" and v. the 17th, " See that 
 your wickedness is great, that ye have done in the 
 sight of the Lord, in asking you a king." And Hosea 
 speaks contemptibly of the king, chap. xiii. v. 10, 11, 
 " I will be thy king ; where is any other that may save 
 in all thy cities, and thy judges of whom thou saidst, 
 Give me a king, and princes ? I gave thee a king in 
 mine auger, and took him away in my wrath." 
 And Gideon, that warlike judge, that was greater than 
 a king ; " I will not rule over you," says he, " neither 
 shall my son rule over you ; the Lord shall rule over 
 you," Judges, chap. viii. Intimating thereby, that it 
 is not fit for a man, but for God only, to exercise do- 
 minion over men. And hence Josephus in his book 
 against Appion, an Egyptian grammarian, and a foul- 
 mouthed fellow, like you, calls the commonwealth of 
 the Hebrews a Theocracy, because the principality was 
 in God only. In Isaiah, chap. xxvi. v. 13, the people 
 in their repentance, complain that it had been mischiev- 
 ous to them, " that other lords besides God himself, 
 had had dominion over them." All which places prove 
 clearly, that God gave the Israelites a king in his 
 anger ; but now who can forbear laughing at the use 
 you make of Abimelech's story ? Of whom it is said, 
 when he was killed, partly by a woman that hurled a 
 piece of millstone upon him, and partly by his own 
 armour-bearer, that " God rendered the wickedness of 
 Abimelech." "This history,"sayyou, "proves strongly, 
 that God only is the judge and avenger of kings." 
 Yea, if this argument hold, he is the only judge and 
 punisher of tyrants, villanous rascals, and bastards. 
 Whoever can get into the saddle, whether by right or 
 by wrong, has thereby obtained a sovereign kingly 
 right over the people, is out of all danger of punish- 
 ment, all inferiour magistrates must lay down their 
 arms at his feet, the people must not dare to mutter. 
 But what if some great notorious robber had perished 
 in war, as Abimelech did, would any man infer from 
 thence, that God only is the judge and punisher of 
 highwaymen ? Or what if Abimelech had been con- 
 demned by the law, and died by an executioner's hand, 
 would not God tiien have rendered his wickedness ? 
 You never read, that the judges of the children of 
 Israel were ever proceeded against according to law : 
 and yet you confess, that " where the government is 
 an aristocracy, the prince, if there be any, may and 
 ought to be called in question, if he break the laws." 
 This in your 47th page. And why may not a tyrant 
 as well be proceeded against in a kingly government .'' 
 why, because God rendered the wickedness of Abime- 
 lech. So did the woman, and so did his own armour- 
 bearer; over both which he pretended to a right of 
 sovereignty. And what if the magistrates had rendered 
 his wickedness ? Do not they bear the sword for that 
 very purpose, for the punishment of malefactors ? 
 Having done witli his powerful argument from the 
 history of Abimelech's death, he betakes himself, as 
 
 his custom is, to slanders and calumnies ; nothing but 
 dirt and filth comes from him ; but for those things 
 that he promised to make appear, he hath not proved 
 any one of them, either from the Scriptures or from the 
 writings of the rabbins. He alleges no reason why 
 kings should be above all laws, and they only of all 
 mortal men exempt from punishment, if they deserve 
 it. He falls foul upon those very authors and author- 
 ities that he makes use of, and by his own discourse 
 demonstrates the truth of the opinion that he argues 
 against. And perceiving, that he is like to do but little 
 good with his arguments, he endeavoui-s to bring an 
 odium upon us, by loading us with slanderous accusa- 
 tions, as having put to death the most virtuous innocent 
 prince that ever reigned. " Was King Solomon, says 
 he, better than King Charles the First ?" I confess some 
 have ventured to compare his father King James with 
 Solomon ; nay, to make King James the better gentle- 
 man of the two. Solomon was David's son, David had 
 been Saul's musician ; but King James was the son of 
 the earl of Daruley, who, as Buchanan tells us, because 
 David the musician got into the queen's bed-chamber 
 at an unseasonable time, killed him a little after ; for 
 he could not get to him then, because he had bolted 
 the door on the inside. So that King James being the 
 son of an earl, was the better gentleman ; and was 
 frequently called a second Solomon, though it is not 
 very certain, that himself was not the sou of David 
 the musician too. But how could it ever come into 
 your head, to make a comparison between King 
 Charles and Solomon ? For that very King Charles 
 whom you praise thus to the sky, that very man's 
 obstinacy, and covetousness, and cruelty, his hard 
 usage of all good ajul honest men, the wars that 
 he raised, the spoilings, and plunderings, and confla- 
 grations, that he occasioned, and the death of innu- 
 merable of his subjects, that he was the cause of, does 
 his son Charles, at this very time, whilst I am a-writing, 
 confess and bewail on the stool of repentance in 
 Scotland, and renounces there that kingly right that 
 you assert. But since you delight in parallels, let us 
 compare King Charles and King Solomon together a 
 little : " Solomon began his reign with the death of 
 his brother," who justly deserved it ; King Charles be- 
 gan his with his father's funeral, I do not say with his 
 murder: and yet all the marks and tokens of poison 
 that may be appeared in his dead body ; but that sus- 
 picion lighted upon the duke of Buckingham only, 
 whom the king notwithstanding cleared to the parlia- 
 ment, though he had killed the king and his father; 
 and not only so, but he dissolved the parliament, lest 
 the matter should be inquired into. " Solomon op- 
 pressed the people with heavy taxes ; " but he spent 
 that money upon the temple of God, and in raising 
 other public buildings : King Charles spent his in ex- 
 travagances. Solomon was enticed to idolatry by 
 many wives : this man by one. Solomon, though he 
 were seduced himself, we read not that he seduced 
 others ; but King Charles seduced and enticed others, 
 not only by large and ample rewards to corrupt the 
 church, but by his edicts and ecclesiastical constitutions 
 
368 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 he compelled them to set up altars, which all pro- 
 testants abhor, and to bow down to crucifixes painted 
 over them on the wall. " But yet for all this, Solo- 
 mon was not condemned to die." Nor does it follow 
 because he was not, that therefore he oug'ht not to have 
 been. Perhaps there were many circumstances, that 
 made it then not expedient. But not Ions' after, the 
 people both by words and actions made appear what 
 they took to be their right, when ten tribes of twelve 
 revolted from his son ; and if he had not saved himself 
 by flight, it is very likely they would have stoned him, 
 notwithstanding his threats and big swelling words. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Hating proved sufficiently, that the kings of the 
 Jews were subject to the same laws that the people 
 were ; that there are no exceptions made in their fa- 
 vour in Scripture; that it is a most false assertion 
 g^unded upon no reason, nor warranted by any au- 
 thority, to say, that kings may do what they list with 
 impunity ; that God has exempted them from all hu- 
 man jurisdiction, and reserved them to his own tribu- 
 nal only ; let us now consider, whether the gospel 
 preach up any such doctrine, and enjoin that blind obe- 
 dience, which the law was so far from doing, that it 
 commanded the contrary ; let us consider, whether or 
 no the gospel, that heavenly promulgation, as it were, 
 of christian liberty, reduce us to a condition of slavery 
 to kings and tjTants, from whose imperious rule even 
 the old law, that mistress of slavery, discharged the 
 people of God, when it obtained. Your first argument 
 you take from the person of Christ himself But, alas ! 
 who does not know, that he put himself into the con- 
 dition, not of a private person only, but even of a ser- 
 vant, that we might be made free ? Nor is this to be 
 understood of some internal spiritual liberty only ; how 
 inconsistent else would that song of his mother's be 
 with the design of his coming into the world, " He 
 hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their 
 heart, he hath put down the mighty from their seat, 
 and hath exalted the humble and meek !" How ill 
 suited to their occasion would these expressions be, if 
 the coming of Christ rather established and strength- 
 ened a tyrannical government, and made a blind sub- 
 jection the duty of all Christians ! He himself having 
 been bom, and lived, and died under a tyrannical go- 
 vernment, has thereby purchased liberty for us. As he 
 gives us his grace to submit patiently to a condition of 
 slavery, if there be a necessity of it; so if by any ho- 
 nest ways and means we can rid ourselves, and obtain 
 our liberty, he is so far from restraining us, that he en- 
 courages us so to do. Hence it is that St. Paul not 
 only of an evangelical, but also of a civil liberty, says 
 thus, 1 Cor. vii. 21. "Art thou called, being a ser- 
 vant."* care not for it; but if thou mayst be made free, 
 use it rather ; you are bought with a price, be not ye 
 servants of men." So that you are very impertinent in 
 
 endeavouring to argue us into slavery by the example 
 of our Saviour ; who, by submitting to such a condition 
 himself, has confirmed even our civil liberties. He took 
 upon him indeed in our stead the form of a servant, but 
 he always retained his purpose of being a deliverer; 
 and thence it was, that he taught us a quite other no- 
 tion of the right of kings, than this that you endeavour 
 to make good. You, I say, that preach up not king- 
 ship, but tyranny, and tliat in a commonwealth ; by 
 enjoining not only a necessary, but a religious, subjec- 
 tion to whatever tyrant gets into the chair, whether he 
 come to it by succession or by conquest, or chance, or 
 any how. And now I will turn your own wea])ons 
 against you; and oppose you, as I use to do, with 
 your own authorities. When the collectors of the tri- 
 bute money came to Christ for tribute in Galilee, he 
 asked Peter, Matt. xvii. " Of whom the kings of the 
 earth took custom or tribute, of their own children, or 
 of strangers?" Peter saith unto him, " Of strangers." 
 Jesus saith unto him, " Then are tlie children free ; not- 
 withstanding, lest we should offend them, &c. give unto 
 them for thee and for me." Expositors diflTer upon 
 this place, whom this tribute was paid to ; some say it 
 was paid to the priests, for the use of the sanctuary ; 
 others, that it was paid to the emperor. I am of 
 opinion, that it was the revenue of the sanctuary, but 
 paid to Herod, who perverted the institution of it, and 
 took it to himself. Josephus mentions divers sorts of tri- 
 bute, which he and his sons exacted, all which Agrippa 
 afterwards remitted. And this very tribute, though 
 small in itself, yet being accompanied with many more, 
 was a heavy burden. The Jews, even the poorest of 
 them, in the time of their commonwealth, paid a poll ; 
 so that it was some considerable oppression that our Sa- 
 viour spoke of: and from hence he took occasion to tax 
 Herod's injustice (under whose government, and within 
 whose jurisdiction he then was) in that, whereas the 
 kings of the earth, who affect usually the title of fathers 
 of their country, do not use to oppi-ess their own chil- 
 dren, that is, their own natural-born subjects, with 
 heavy and unreasonable exactions, but lay such burdens 
 upon strangers and conquered enemies ; he, quite con- 
 trary, oppressed not strangers, but his own people. But 
 let what will be here meant by children, either natural- 
 born subjects, or the children of God, and those of the 
 elect only, or Christians in general, as St. Augustine 
 understands the place ; this is certain, that if Peter was 
 a child, and therefore free, then by consequence we ai 
 so too, by our Saviour's own testimony, either as Eu- 
 glishraen,or as Christians, and that it therefore is not the 
 right of kings to exact heavy tributes from their own 
 countrymen, and those freeborn subjects. Christ him- 
 self professes, that he paid not this tribute as a thing 
 that was due, but that he might not bring trouble upon 
 himself by ofllending those that demanded it. The 
 work that he came into this world to do, was quite of 
 another nature. But if our Saviour deny, that it is 
 the right of kings to burden their freeboni subjects 
 with grievous exactions ; he would certainly much less 
 allow it to be their right to spoil, massacre, and tortur 
 their own countrymen, and those Christians too. II 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 359 
 
 discoursed after such a manner of the right of kings, 
 that those to whom he spoke suspected his principles 
 as laying- too great a restraint upon sovereignty, and 
 not allowing the licence that tyrants assume to them- 
 selves to be the rights of kings. It was not for no- 
 thing, that the Pharisees put such questions to him, 
 tempting him ; and that at the same time they told him, 
 that he regarded not the person of any man : nor was 
 it for nothing, that he was angry when such questions 
 were proposed to him, Matt. xxii. If one should en- 
 deavour to ensnare you with little questions, and catch 
 at your answers, to ground an accusation against you 
 upon your own principles concerning the right of kings, 
 and all this under a monarchy, would you be angry 
 with him ? You would have but very little reason. It 
 is evident, that our Saviour's principles concerning go- 
 vernment were not agreeable to the humour of princes. 
 His answer too implies as much; by which he rather 
 turned them away, than instructed them. He asked 
 for the tribute-money. " Whose image and superscrip- 
 tion is it ?" says he. They tell him it was Cipsar's. 
 " Give then to Ca*sar," says he, " the things that are 
 Caesar's; and to God, the things that are God's." And 
 how comes it to pass, that the people should not have 
 given to them the things that are theirs .■* " Render to 
 all men their dues," says St. Paul, Rom. xiii. So that 
 Cffisar must not engross all to himself. Our liberty is 
 not Cepsar's ; it is a blessing we have received from 
 God himself; it is what we are born to; to lay this 
 down at Geesar's feet, which we derive not from him, 
 which we are not beholden to him for, were an unwor- 
 thy action, and a degrading of our very nature. If 
 one should consider attentively the countenance of a 
 man, and not inquire after whose image so noble a 
 creature were framed ; would not any one that heard 
 him ])resently make answer. That he was made after 
 the image of God himself.? Being therefore peculiarly 
 God's own, and consequently things that are to be 
 gi^en to him, we are entirely' free by nature, and can- 
 not without the greatest sacrilege imaginable be re- 
 duced into a condition of slavery to any man, especially 
 to a wicked, unjust, cruel tyrant. Our Saviour does not 
 take upon him to determine what thincrs are God's and 
 what Caesar's; he leaves that as he found it. If the 
 piece of money, which they shewed him, was the same 
 that was paid to God, as in Vespasian's time it was ; 
 then our Saviour is so far from having put an end to 
 the controversy, that he has but entangled it, and made 
 it more perplexed than it was before : for it is impos- 
 sible the same thing should be given both to God and to 
 Caesar. But, you say, he intimates to them what 
 things were Caesar's; to wit, that piece of money, be- 
 cause it bore the emperor's stamp : and what of all that ? 
 How does this advantage your cause.'' You get not 
 the emperor, or yourself, a penny by this conclusion. 
 Either Christ allowed nothing at all to be Caesar's, 
 but that piece of money that he then had in his 
 hand, and thereby asserted the people's interest in 
 every thing else ; or else, if (as you would have ns 
 understand him) he affirms all money that has the 
 emperor's stamp upon it, to be the emperor's own, 
 
 he contradicts himself, and indeed gives the magis- 
 trate a property in every man's estate, whenas he 
 himself paid his tribute-money with a protestation, that 
 it M as more than what either Peter or he were bound 
 to do. The ground you rely on is very weak ; for 
 money bears the prince's image, not as a token of its 
 being his, but of its being good metal, and that none 
 may presume to counterfeit it. If the writing princes' 
 names or setting their stamps upon a thiny, vest the 
 property of it in them, it were a good ready way for 
 them to invade all property. Or rather, if whatever 
 subjects have been absolutely at their prince's disposal, 
 which is your assertion, that piece of money was not 
 Caesar's because his image was stamped on it, but be- 
 cause of right it belonged to him before it was coined. 
 So that nothing can be more manifest, than that our 
 Saviour in this place never intended to teach us our 
 duty to magistrates, (he would have spoken more plain- 
 ly if he had,) hut to reprehend the malice and wicked- 
 ness of the hypocritical Pharisees. When they told 
 him that Herod laid wait to kill him ; did he return an 
 humble, submissive answer.'' " Go, tell that fox," says 
 he, &c. intimating, that kings have no other right to 
 destroy their subjects, than foxes have to devour tlie 
 things they prey upon. Say you, " he suffered death 
 under a tyrant." How could he possibly under any other.'* 
 But from hence you conclude, that he asserted it to 
 be the right of kings to commit murder and act injus- 
 tice. You would make an excellent moralist. But 
 our Saviour, thoujxb he became a servant, not to make 
 us so but that we might be free ; yet carried he him- 
 self so with relation to the magistracy, as not to as- 
 cribe any more to them than their due. Now, let us 
 come at last to inquire what his doctrine was upon 
 this subject. The sons of Zehedee were ambitious of 
 honour and power in the kingdom of Christ, which 
 they persuaded themselves he would shortly set up 
 in the world ; be reproves them so, as withal to let 
 all Christians know what form of civil government 
 he desires they should settle amongst themselves. 
 " Ye know," says he, " that the princes of the Gen- 
 tiles exercise dominion over them ; and they that 
 are great e.xercise authority upon them; but it shall 
 not be so among you ; but whosoever will be great 
 among you, let him be your minister; and whosoever 
 will be chief among you, let him be your servant." 
 Unless you had been distracted, you could never have 
 imagined, that this place makes for you : and yet you 
 urge it, and think it furnishes you with an argument 
 to prove, that our kings are absolute lords and masters 
 over us and ours. May it be our fortune to have to do 
 with such enemies in war, as will fall blindfold and 
 naked into our camp instead of their own : as you con- 
 stantly do, who allege that for yourself, that of all 
 things in the world makes most against you. The Is- 
 raelites asked God for a king, such a king as other 
 nations round about them had. God dissuaded them 
 by many arguments, whereof our Saviour here gives 
 us an epitome ; " You know that the princes of the 
 Gentiles exercise dominion over them." But yet, be- 
 cause the Israelites persisted in their desire of a king, 
 
360 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 God gave them one, though in his wrath. Our Sa- 
 viour, lest Christians should desire a king, such a one 
 at least as might rule, as he says the princes of the 
 Gentiles did, prevents them with an injunction to the 
 contrary ; " but it shall not he so among you." What 
 can be said plainer than this ? That stately, imperious 
 sway and dominion, that kings use to exercise, shall 
 not be amongst you ; what specious titles soever they 
 may assume to themselves, as that of benefactors, or 
 the like. " But he tliat will be great amongst you," 
 (and who is greater than the prince .'*) " let him be your 
 servant." So that the lawyer, whoever he be, that you 
 are so smart upon, was not so much out of the way, 
 but had our Saviour's own authority to back him, when 
 he said, that Christian princes were indeed no other 
 than the people's servants ; it is very certain that all 
 good magistrates are so. Insomuch that Christians 
 eitlier must have no king at all, or if they have, that 
 king must be the people's servant. Absolute lordship 
 and Christianity are inconsistent. Moses himself, by 
 whose ministry that servile oeconomy of the old law 
 was instituted, did not exercise an arbitrary, haughty 
 power and authority, but bore the burden of the people, 
 and carried them in his bosom, as a nursing father does 
 a sucking child, Numb. xi. and what is that of a uupe- 
 iug father but a ministerial employment .■* Plato would 
 not have the magistrates called lords, but servants and 
 helpers of the people ; nor the people servants, but 
 raaintainers of their magistrates, because they give 
 meat, drink, and wages to their kings themselves. 
 Aristotle calls the magistrates, keepers and ministers of 
 the laws. Plato, ministers and servants. The apostle 
 calls them ministers of God ; but they are ministers 
 and servants of the people, and of the laws, nevertheless 
 for all that ; the laws and the magistrates were both 
 created for the good of the people: and yet this is it, 
 that you call " the opinion of the fanatic mastiffs in 
 England." I should not have thought the people of 
 England were mastiff dogs, if such a mongrel cur as 
 thou art did not bark at them so currishly. The mas- 
 ter, if it shall please ye, of St. Lupus,* complains it 
 seems, that the mastiffs are mad (fanatics). Germanus 
 heretofore, whose colleague that Lupus of Triers was, 
 deposed our incestuous king Vortigern by his own au- 
 thority. And therefore St. Lupus despises thee, the 
 master not of a Holy Wolf, but of some hunger-starved 
 thieving little wolf or other, as being more contempt- 
 ible than that master of vipers, of whom Martial makes 
 mention, who hast by relation a barking she-wolf at 
 home too, that domineers over thee most wretchedly ; 
 at whose instigations, as I am informed, thou hast 
 % wrote this stuff. And therefore it is the less wonder, 
 that thou shouldst endeavour to obtrude an absolute 
 regal government upon others, who hast been accus- 
 tomed to bear a female rule so servilely at home thy- 
 self. Be therefore, in the name of God, the master of 
 a wolf, lest a she-wolf be thy mistress ; be a wolf thy- 
 self, be a monster made up of a man and a wolf; what- 
 ever tlion art, the English mastiffs will but make a 
 laughing-stock of thee. But I am not now at leisure 
 
 * Lupus in Latin signifies a wolf. 
 
 to hunt for wolves, and will put an end therefore to 
 this digression. You that but a while ago wrote a 
 book against all manner of superiority in the church, 
 now call St. Peter the prince of the apostles. How 
 inconstant you are in your priiicij)lcs ! But what says 
 Peter ? " Submit yourselves to every ordinance of 
 man, for the Lord's sake, whether it be to the king as 
 supreme, or to governours, as unto them that are sent 
 by him for the punishment of evil-doers, and the praise 
 of them that do well : for so is the will of God," &c. 
 This epistle Peter wrote, not only to private persons, 
 but those strangers scattered and dispersed through 
 Asia ; who, in those places where they sojourned, had 
 no other right, than what the laws of hospitality en- 
 titled them to. Do you think such men's case to be the 
 same with that of natives, freeborn subjects, nobility, 
 senates, assemblies of estates, parliaments? nay, is no' 
 the case far different of private persons, though in their 
 own country; and senators, or magistrates, without 
 whom kings themselves cannot possibly subsist ? But 
 let us suppose, that St. Peter had directed his epistle 
 to the natural-born subjects, and those not private per- 
 sons neither; suppose he had writ to the senate of 
 Rome ; what then .-' No law that is grounded upon a 
 reason, expressly set down in the law itself, obligeth 
 further than the reason of it extends. " Be subject," 
 says he, vnorayrjTi : that is, according to the genuine 
 sense and import of the word, " be subordinate, or 
 legally subject." For the law, Aristotle says, is order. 
 " Submit for the Lord's sake." Why so .'' Because a 
 king is an officer " appointed by God for the punish- 
 ment of evil-doers, and the praise of them that do 
 well; for so is the will of God:" to wit, that we 
 should submit and yield obedience to such as arc here 
 described. There is not a word spoken of any other. 
 You see the ground of this precept, and liow well it is 
 laid. The apostle adds in the 16th verse, as free ; 
 therefore not as slaves. What now .'' if princes per- 
 vert the design of magistracy, and use the power 
 that is put into their hands to the ruin and destruction 
 of good men, and the praise and encouragement of 
 evil-doers ; must we all be condemned to perpetual 
 slavery, not private persons only, but our nobility, 
 all our inferiour magistrates, our very parliament 
 itself? Is not temporal government called a human 
 ordinance? How comes it to pass then, that man- 
 kind should have power to appoint and constitute what 
 may be good and profitable for one another; and want 
 power to restrain or suppress things that are universally 
 mischievous and destructive ? That prince, you say, 
 to whom St. Peter enjoins subjection, was Nero the 
 tyrant: and from thence you infer, that it is our duty 
 to submit and yield obedience to such. But it is not 
 certain, that this epistle was writ in Nero's reign : it is 
 as likely to have been writ in Claudius's time. And 
 they that arc commanded to submit, were private per- 
 sons and strangers ; they were no consuls, no magis- 
 trates : it was not the Roman senate, that St. Peter 
 directed his epistle to. Now let us hear what use you 
 make of St. Paul, (for you take a freedom with the 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 361 
 
 apostles, I find, that you will not allow us to take with 
 princes ; you make St. Peter the chief of them to-day, 
 and to-morrow put another in liis place). St. Paul in 
 his 13tli chaj). to the Romans, has these words : " Let 
 every soul be subject unto the higher powers, for there 
 is uo power but of God ; the powers that be, are or- 
 dained of God." I confess he writes this to the Ro- 
 mans, not to strang'ers dispersed, as Peter did ; but, 
 however, he writes to private persons, and those of the 
 meaner rank ; and yet he gives us a true and clear ac- 
 count of the reason, the original, and the design of 
 government; and shews us the true and proper ground 
 of our obedience, that it is far from imposing a neces- 
 sity upon us of being slaves. " Let every soul, says 
 he, that is, let every man, submit." Chrysostom tells 
 us, " tliat St. Paul's design in this discourse, was to 
 make it appear, that our Saviour did not go about to 
 introduce principles inconsistent with the civil govern- 
 ment, but such as strengthened it, and settled it upon 
 the surest foundations." He never intended tlien by 
 setting Nero or any other tyrant out of the reach of all 
 laws, to enslave mankind under his lust and cruelty. 
 " He intended too, (says the same author,) to dissuade 
 from unnecessary and causeless wars." But he does 
 not condemn a war taken up against a tyrant, a bosom 
 enemy of his own country, and consequently the most 
 dangerous that may be. " It was commonly said in 
 those days, that the doctrine of the apostles was sedi- 
 tious, themselves persons that endeavoured to shake 
 the settled laws and government of the world ; that 
 this was what they aimed at in all they said and did." 
 The apostle in this chapter stops the mouths of such 
 gainsayers : so that the apostles did not write in de- 
 fence of tyrants as you do ; but they asserted such 
 things as made them suspected to be enemies to the 
 government they lived under, things that stood in need 
 of being e.vplained and interpreted, and having an- 
 other sense put upon them than was generally received. 
 St. Chrysostom has now taught us what the apostle's 
 design was in this discourse ; let us now examine his 
 words : " Let every soul be subject to the higher 
 powers." He tells us not what those higher powers 
 are, nor who they are ; for he never intended to over- 
 throw all governments, and the several constitutions of 
 nations, and subject all to some one man's will. Every 
 good cDiperor acknowledged, that the laws of the em- 
 pire, and tlie authority of the senate, was above him- 
 self; and the same principle and notion of government 
 has obtained all along in civilized nations. Pindar, as 
 he is cited by Herodotus, calls the law irdvrwv fiaviXia, 
 king over all. Orpheus in his hymns calls it the king 
 both of gods and men : and he gives the reason why 
 it is so ; because, says he, it is that that sits at the helm 
 of all human aflaii"s. Plato in his book de Legibus, 
 calls it rb xparovv tv rrj ttoXu : that that ought to have 
 the greatest sway in the commonwealth. In his epis- 
 tles he commends that form of government, in which 
 the law is made lord and master, and no scope given 
 to any man to tyrannize over the laws. Aristotle is of 
 the same opinion in his Politicks ; and so is Cicero in 
 his book de Legibus, that the laws ought to govern the 
 
 magistrates, as they do the people. The law therefore 
 having always been accounted the highest power on 
 earth, by the judgment of the most learned and wise 
 men that ever were, and l)y the constitutions of the 
 best-ordered states ; and it being very certain, that the 
 doctrine of the gospel is neither contrary to reason, nor 
 the law of nations, that man is truly and properly sub- 
 ject to the higher powers, who obeys the law and the 
 magistrates, so far as they govern according to law. 
 So that St. Paul does not only command the people, 
 but princes themselves, to be in subjection ; who are 
 not above the laws, but bound by them, " for there is 
 no power but of God :" that is, no form, no lawful con- 
 stitution of any government. The most ancient laws 
 that are known to us were formerly ascribed to God as 
 their author. For the law, says Cicero in his Philip- 
 j)ics, is no other than a rule of well-grounded reason, 
 derived from God himself, enjoining whatever is just 
 and right, and forbidding the contrary. So that the 
 institution of magistracy is Jure Divino, and the end 
 of it is, that mankind might live under certain laws, 
 and be governed by them. But what particular form 
 of government each nation would live under, and what 
 persons should be intrusted with the magistracy, with- 
 out doubt, was left to the choice of each nation. Hence 
 St. Peter calls kings and deputies, human ordinances. 
 And Hosea, in the 8th chapter of his prophecy, " ihey 
 have set up kings, but not by me ; they have made 
 princes, and I knew it not." For in the commonwealth 
 of the Hebrews, where, upon matters of great and 
 weighty importance, they could have access to God 
 himself, and consult with him, they could not choose 
 a king themselves by law, but were to refer the mat- 
 ter to him. Other nations have received no such 
 command. Sometimes the very form of government, 
 if it be amiss, or at least those persons that have the 
 power in their hands, are not of God, but of men, or 
 of the devil, Luke iv. " All this power will I give 
 unto thee, for it is delivered unto mc, and I give 
 it to whom I will." Hence the devil is called the 
 prince of this world ; and in the 12th of the Revela- 
 tions, the dragon gave to the beast his power, and his 
 throne, and great authority. So that we must not un- 
 derstand St. Paul, as if he spoke of all sorts of magis- 
 trates in general, but of lawful magistrates; and so they 
 are described in what follows. We must also under- 
 stand him of the powers themselves; not of those men, 
 always, in whose hands they are lodged. St. Chrysos- 
 tom speaks very well and clearly upon this occasion. 
 " What!"" says he, "is every prince then appointed by 
 God to be so ? I say no such thing," says he. " St. 
 Paul speaks not of the person of the magistrate, but of 
 the magistracy itself. He does not say, there is no 
 prince but who is of God. He says there is no power 
 but of God." Thus far St. Chrysostom; for what 
 powers are, are ordained of God : so that Paul speaks 
 only of a lawful magistracy. For what is evil and 
 amiss cannot be said to be ordained, because it is dis- 
 orderly ; order and disorder cannot consist together in 
 the same subject. The apostle says, " the powers that 
 he;" and you interpret his words as if he had said. 
 
362 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 '• tlie powers that now be ;" that you may prove, that 
 the Romans oujjht in conscience to obey Nero, who 
 you take for granted was then emperor. I am very 
 well content you shouhl read the words so, and draw 
 that conclusion from them. The consequence will be, 
 that Eniflishmen ought to yield obedience to the pre- 
 sent gOFernment, as it is now established according to 
 a new model ; because you must needs acknowledge, 
 that it is the present government, and ordained of God, 
 as much at least as Nero's was. And lest you should 
 object, that Nero came to the empire by a lawful suc- 
 cession, it is ajiparent from the Roman history, that 
 both he and Tiberius got into the chair by the tricks 
 and artifices of their mothers, and had no right at all 
 to the succession. So that you are inconsistent with 
 yourself, and retract from your own principles, in af- 
 firming that the Romans owed sulyection to the govern- 
 ment that then was ; and yet denying that Englishmen 
 owe subjection to the government that now is. But it 
 is no wonder, to hear you contradict yourself There 
 are no two things in the world more directly opposite 
 and contrary to one another, than j-ou are to yourself 
 But what will become of you, poor wretch ? You 
 have quite undone the young king with your witticisms, 
 and ruined his fortunes utterly ; for according to your 
 own doctrine you must needs confess, that tliis present 
 government in England is ordained of God, and that 
 all Englishmen are bound in conscience to submit to 
 it. Take notice, all ye critics and textuaries ; do 
 not you presume to meddle with this text. Thus 
 Salmasius corrects that passage in the epistle to the 
 Romans : he has made a discovery, that the words 
 ought not to be read, " the powers that are ; but, the 
 powers that now are :" and all this to prove, that all 
 men owed subjection and obedience to Nero the tyrant, 
 whom he supposed to have been then emperor. This 
 Epistle, which you say was writ in Nero's time, was 
 writ in his predecessor's time, who was an honest well- 
 meaning man : and this learned men evince by unde- 
 niable arguments. But besides, the five first years of 
 Nero's reign were without exception. So that this 
 threadbare argument, which so many men have at their 
 tongues' end, and have been deceived by, to wit, that 
 tyrants are to be obeyed, because St. Paul enjoins a 
 subjection to Nero, is evident to have been but a cun- 
 ning invention of some ignorant parson. He that re- 
 sists the powers, to wit, a law ul power, resists the 
 ordinance of God. Kings themselves come under 
 the penalty of this law, when they resist the senate, 
 and act contrary to the laws. But do they resist the 
 ordinance of God, that resist an unlawful power, or a 
 person that goes about to overthrow and destroy a law- 
 ful one? No man living in his right wits can maintain 
 such an assertion. The words immediately after make 
 it as clear as the sun, that the apostle speaks only of a 
 lawful power; for he gives us in them a definition of 
 magistrates, and thereby explains to us who are the 
 persons thus authorized, and upon what account we 
 are to yield obedience, lest we should be apt to mistake 
 and ground extravagant notions upon his discourse. 
 " The magistrates," says he, " are not a tcrrour to good 
 
 works, but to evil : Wilt thou then not be afraid of the 
 power? Do that which is good and thou shalt have 
 praise of the same: for he is the minister of God to 
 thee for good. He beareth not the sword in vain ; for 
 he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath 
 upon him that doth evil." What honest man would , 
 not willingly submit to such a magistracy as is here 
 described ? And that not only to avoid wrath, and for 
 fear of punishment, but for conscience sake. Without 
 magistrates, and some form or other of civil govern- 
 ment, no commonwealth, no human society, can subsist,] 
 there were no living in the world. But whatever 
 power enables a man, or whatsoever magistrate takes, 
 upon him, to act contrary to what St. Paul makes the^ 
 duty of those that are in authority; neither is that 
 power nor that magistrate ordained of God. And con- 
 sequently to such a magistracy no subjection is com- 
 manded, nor is any due, nor are the people forbidden, 
 to resist such authority ; for in so doing they do not 
 resist the power, nor the magistracy, as they are here; 
 excellently well described ; but they resist a robber, a 
 tyrant, an enemy ; who if he may notwithstanding in 
 some sense be called a magistrate, upon this account 
 only, because he has power in his hands, which per- 
 haps God may have invested him with for our punish- 
 ment; by the same reason the devil may be called 
 magistrate. This is most certain, that there can b« 
 but one true definition of one and the same thing. Sq 
 that if St. Paul in this place define what a magistrate 
 is, which he certainly does, and that accurately well 
 he cannot possibly define a tyrant, the most contrarji 
 thing imaginable, in the same words. Hence I infer, 
 that he commands us to submit to such magistrates 
 only as he himself defines and describes, and not tQ 
 tyrants, which are quite other things. " For this cause 
 you pay tribute also :" he gives a reason together with 
 a command. Hence St. Chrysostom; "why do we 
 pay tribute to princes? Do we not," adds he, "there- 
 by reward them for the care they take of our safety! 
 We should not have paid them any tribute, if we had 
 not been convinced, that it was good for us to live 
 under a government." So that I must here repeal 
 what I have said already, that since subjection is not 
 absolutely enjoined, but on a particular reason, that 
 reason must be the rule of our subjection : where that 
 reason holds, we are rebels if we submit not ; where it 
 holds not, we are cowards and slaves if we do. "But," 
 say you, " the English are far from being freemen ; 
 for they are wicked and flagitious." I will not 
 reckon up here the vices of the French, though they 
 live under a kingly government; neither will I excuse 
 my own countrymen too far: but this I may safely say, 
 whatever vices they have, they have learnt them under 
 a kingly government ; as the Israelites learnt a great 
 deal of wickedness in Egypt. And as they, when 
 they were brought into the wilderness, and lived 
 under the immediate government of God himself, could 
 hardly reform, just so it is with us. But there are good 
 hopes of many amongst us ; that I may not here cele- 
 brate those men who are eminent for their j)icty and 
 virtue and love of the truth ; of which sort I persuade 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 363 
 
 mjself we have as great a number, as where you think 
 there are most such. " But they have laid a heavy 
 ; yoke u))on the English nation:" what if they have, 
 I upon those of them that endeavoured to lay a heavy 
 yoke upon all the rest? upon those that have deserved 
 to be put under the hatches ? As for the rest, I question 
 not but they arc very well content to be at the expense 
 of maintaining their own liberty, the public treasury 
 being exhausted by the civil wars. Now he betakes 
 himself to the fabulous rabbins again : he asserts fre- 
 quently, that kings are bound by no laws ; and yet 
 he proves, that according to the sense of the rabbins, 
 *' a king may be guilty of treason, by suffering an in- 
 vasion upon the rights of his crown." So kings are 
 bound by laws, and the}' are not bound by them ; they 
 may bo criminals, and yet they may not be so. This 
 man contradicts himself so perpetually, that contradic- 
 tion and he seem to be of kin to one another. You 
 say that God himself put many kingdoms under the 
 yoke of Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. I confess 
 he did so for a time, Jer. xxvii. 7, but do you make 
 appear, if you can, that he put the English nation into 
 a condition of slavery to Charles Stuart for a minute. 
 I confess he suffered them to be enslaved by him for 
 some time ; but I never yet heard, that himself ap- 
 pointed it so to be. Or if you will have it so, that God 
 shall he said to put a nation under slavery, when a ty- 
 rant prevails ; why may he not as well be said to de- 
 liver them from his tyranny, when the people prevail 
 and get the upper hand ? Shall his tyranny be said to 
 be of God, and not our liberty ? There is no evil in the 
 city, that the Lord hath not done, Amos iii. So that 
 famine, pestilence, sedition, war, all of them are of 
 God ; and is it therefore unlawful for a people afflicted 
 with any of these plagues, to endeavour to get rid of 
 them .•* Certainly they would do their utmost, though 
 they know them to be sent by God, unless himself mira- 
 culously from heaven should command the contrary : 
 and why may they not by the same reason rid them- 
 selves of a t3Tant, if they are stronger than he .'* Why 
 should we suppose his weakness to be appointed by 
 God for the ruin and destruction of the commonwealth, 
 rather than the power and strength of all the people for 
 the good of the state? Far be it from all commonwealths, 
 from all societies of freeborn men, to maintain not only 
 such pernicious, but such stupid and senseless, prin- 
 ciples; principles that subvert all civil society, that to 
 gratify a few tyrants, level all mankind with brutes; 
 and by setting princes out of the reach of human laws, 
 give them an equal power over both. I pass by those 
 foolish dilemmas that you now make, which that you 
 miglit take occasion to propose, you feign some or other 
 to assert, that the " superlative power of princes is de- 
 rived from the people;" though for my own part I do 
 not at all doubt, but that all the power that any magis- 
 trates have is so. Hence Cicero, in his Orat. jiro Flac- 
 co, " Our wise and holy ancestors," says he, " appointed 
 those things to obtain for laws, that the people enact- 
 ed." And hence it is, that Lucius Crassus, an excellent 
 Roman orator, and at that time president of the senate, 
 when in a controversy betwixt them and the common 
 
 people, he asserted their rights, " I beseech you, says 
 he, suffer not us to live in subjection to any, but your- 
 selves, to the entire body of whom we can and ought 
 to submit." For though the Roman senate governed 
 the people, the people themselves had appointed them 
 to be their governors, and had put that power into their 
 hands. We read the term of Majesty more frequently 
 applied to the people of Rome, than to their kings. 
 Tully in Orat. pro Flancio, " it is the condition of all 
 free people, (says he,) and especially of this people, the 
 lord of all nations, by their votes to give or take away, 
 to or from any, as themselves see cause. It is the duty 
 of the magistrates patiently to submit to what the body 
 of the people enact. Those that are not ambitious of 
 honour, have the less obligation upon them to court 
 the people : those that affect preferment, must not be 
 weary of entreating them." Should I scruple to call a 
 king the servant of his people, when I hear the Ro- 
 man senate, that reigned over so many kings, profess 
 themselves to be but the people's servants ? You will 
 object perhaps, and say, that all this is very true in a 
 popular state; but the case was altered afterwards, 
 when the regal law transferred all the people's right 
 unto Augustus and his successors. But what think you 
 then of Tiberius, whom yourself confess to have been a 
 very great tyrant, as he certainly was ? Suetonius says 
 of him, that when he was once called Lonl or Master, 
 though after the enacting of that Lex Regia, he de- 
 sired the person that gave him that appellation, to for- 
 bear abusing him. How does this sound in jour ears? 
 a tyrant thinks one of his subjects abuses him in call- 
 ing him Lord. The same emperor in one of his speeches 
 to the senate, " I have said," says he, " frequently, here- 
 tofore, and now I say it again, that a good prince, whom 
 you have invested with so great a power as I am intrust- 
 ed with, ought to serve the senate and the body of the 
 people, and sometimes even particular persons; nor do I 
 repent of having said so : I confess that you have been 
 good, and just, and indulgent masters to me, and that 
 you are yet so." You may say, that he dissembled in 
 all tiiis, as he was a great proficient in the art of hypo- 
 crisy; but that is all one. No man endeavours to 
 appear otherwise than he ought to be. Hence Tacitus 
 tells us, that it was the custom in Rome for the empe- 
 rors in the Circus, to worship the people ; and that both 
 Nero and other emperors practised it. Claudian in his 
 ])anegyric upon Honorius mentions the same custom. 
 By which sort of adoration what could possibly be 
 meant, but that the emperors of Rome, even after the 
 enacting of the Lex Regia, confessed the whole body 
 of the people to be their siiperiours ? But I find, as I 
 suspected at first, and so I told ye, tliat you have spent 
 more time and pains in turning over glossaries, and 
 criticising upon texts, and propagating such-like labo- 
 rious trifles, than in reading sound authors so as to im- 
 prove your knowledge by them. For had you been 
 never so little versed in the writings of learned men in 
 former ages, you would not have accounted an opinion 
 new, and the product of some enthusiastic heads, which 
 has been asserted and maintained by the greatest phi- 
 losophers, and most famous politicians in the world. 
 
364 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 You endeavour to expose one Martin, who you tell us 
 was a tailor, and one William a tanner; but if they 
 are such as you describe tbem, I think they and you 
 may very well g'o tog-cllier; though they themselves 
 would be able to instruct you, and unfold those myste- 
 rious riddles that you propose : as, " Whetber or no they 
 that in a monarchy would have the king- but a servant 
 to the commonwealth, will say the same thing of the 
 whole body of the people in a popular state? And 
 whether all the people serve in a democracy, or only 
 some part or other serve the rest?" And when they 
 have been an CEdipus to you, by my consent you shall 
 be a sphinx to them in good earnest, and throw your- 
 self headlong from some precipice or other, and break 
 your neck ; for else I am afraid you will never have 
 done with your riddles and fooleries. You ask, " Whe- 
 ther or no, when St. Paul names kings, he meant the 
 people?" I confess St. Paul commands us to pray for 
 kings, but he had commanded us to pray for the people 
 before, ver. 1. But there are some for all that, both 
 among kings and common people, that we are forbid- 
 den to pray for; and if a man may not so much as be 
 prayed for, rnay he not be punished ? W"hat sliould 
 hinder? But, " when Paul wrote this epistle, he that 
 reigned was the most profligate person in the world." 
 That is false. For Ludovicus Capellus makes it evi- 
 dent, that this epistle likewise was writ in Claudius's 
 time. When St. Paul has occasion to speak of Nero, 
 he calls him not a king, but a lion ; that is, a wild, sa- 
 vage beast, from whose jaws he is glad he was de- 
 livered, 2 Tim. iv. So that it is for kings, not for 
 beasts, that we are to pray, that under them we may 
 live a quiet and peaceable life, in all godliness and ho- 
 nesty. Kings and their interest are not the things here 
 intended to be advanced and secured ; it is the public 
 peace, godliness, and honesty, whose establishment we 
 are commanded to endeavour after, and to pray for. 
 But is there any people in the world, that would not 
 choose rather to live an honest and careful life, though 
 never free from war and troubles, in the defence of them- 
 selves and their families, whether against tyrants or 
 enemies, (for I make no difference,) than under the 
 power of a tyrant or an enemy, to spin out a life 
 equally troublesome, accompanied with slavery and ig- 
 nominy ? That the latter is the more desirable of the 
 two, I will prove by a testimony of your own; not be- 
 cause I think your authority worth quoting, but that 
 all men may observe how double-tongued you are, and 
 bow mercenary your pen is. "Who would not rather," 
 say you, " bear with those dissensions, that through 
 the'eraulation of great men often happen in an aristo- 
 cratical government, than live under the tyrannical 
 government of one, where nothing but certain misery 
 and ruin is to be looked for? The people of Rome 
 preferred their commonwealth, though never so much 
 shattered with civil broils, before the intolerable yoke 
 of their emperors. When a people, to avoid sedition, 
 submits to a monarchy, and finds by experience, that 
 this is the worst evil of the two, they often desire to re- 
 turn to their former government again." These are 
 your own words, and more you have to this purpose in 
 
 that discourse concerning bishops, which under a 
 feigned name you wrote against Petavius the Jesuit; 
 though yourself are more a Jesuit than he, nay w()r^■ 
 than any of that crew. W^e have already heard tin 
 sense of the Scripture upon this subject ; and it has been 
 worth our while to take some pains to find it out. But 
 perhaps it will not be so to inquire into the judgment 
 of the fathers, and to ransack their volumes : for if tbev 
 assert any thing, which is not warranted by tiie word of 
 God, we may safely reject tiieir authority, be it never 
 so great ; and particularly that expression that you al- 
 lege out of IrenoBUS, " that God in his providence orders 
 it so, that such kings reign as are suitable to and pro- 
 per for the peoj)le they are to govern, all circumstance 
 considered." That expression, I say, is directly contrary 
 to Scripture. For though God himself declared openly, 
 that it was better for his own people to be governed by 
 judges, than by kings, yet he left it to them to change 
 that form of government for a worse, if they would 
 themselves. And we read frequently, that when the 
 body of the people has been good, they have had a 
 wicked king, and contrariwise that a good king has 
 sometimes reigned, when the people have been wicked. 
 So that wise and prudent men are to consider and sec 
 what is profitable and fit for the people in general ; for 
 it is very certain, that the same form of government is 
 not equally convenient for all nations, nor for the sanif 
 nation at all times ; but sometimes one, sometimes an- 
 other may be more proper, according as the industry 
 and valour of the people may increase or decay. But 
 if you deprive the people of this liberty of setting up 
 what government they like best among themselves, you 
 take that from them, in which the life of all civil liberty 
 consists. Then you tell" us of Justin Martyr, of his 
 humble and submissive behaviour to the Antonines, 
 those best of emperors; as if any body would not do 
 the like to princes of such moderation as they were. 
 " How much worse Christians are we in these days, 
 than those were ! They were content to live under a 
 prince of another religion." Alas! they were private 
 persons, and infinitely inferior to the contrary party in 
 strength and number. "But now papists will not 
 endure a protestant prince, nor protestants one that i> 
 popish." You do well and discreetly in showing your- 
 self to be neither papist nor protestant. And you arc 
 very liberal in your concessions ; for now you confess, 
 that all sorts of Christians agree in that very thing, 
 that you alone take upon you with so much impudenci 
 and wickedness, to cry down and oppose. And how 
 unlike those fathers that you commend, do you shew 
 yourself: they wrote apologies for the Christians to 
 heathen princes ; you in defence of a wicked popish 
 king, against Christians and protestants. Then yoa 
 entertain us with a number of impertinent quotations 
 out of Athenagoras and Tertullian : things that wc 
 have already heard out of the writings of the apostles, 
 much more clearly and intelligibly exprest. But Ter- 
 tullian was quite of a different opinion from yours, of a 
 king's being a lord and master over his subjects: which 
 you either knew not, or wickedly dissembled. For he, 
 though he were a Christian, and directed his discourse 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 366 
 
 to a heathen emperor, had the confidence to tell him, 
 that an emperor oug-ht not to be called Lord. " Aug-us- 
 tus himself, says he, that formed this empire, refused 
 that appellation ; it is a title proper to God only. Not 
 but that the title of Lord and IMaster may in some sense 
 be ascribed to the emperor : but there is a peculiar 
 sense of that word, which is proper to God only ; and 
 in that sense, I will not ascribe it to the emperor. I 
 am the emperor's freeman. God alone is my Lord and 
 Master." And the same author, in the same discourse ; 
 " how inconsistent," says he, " are those two appella- 
 tions, Father of his country, and Lord and Master !" 
 And now I wish you much joy of Tertullian's autlio- 
 rity, whom it had been a g^reat deal better you had let 
 alone. But Tertullian calls them parricides that slew 
 Domitian. And he does well, for so they were, his 
 wife and servants conspired ag-ainst him. And they 
 set one Parthenius and Stcphaiius, who were accused 
 for concealing' part of the public treasure, to make him 
 away. If the senate and the people of Rome had pro- 
 ceeded ag-ainst him according' to tlie custom of their 
 ancestors; had g-iven judg'ment of death ag'ainst him, 
 as they did once ag'ainst Nero; and had made search 
 for him to put him to death ; do ye think Tertullian 
 would have called them ])arricides.'' If he had, he 
 would have deserved to be hang'ed, as you do. I ^ve 
 the same answer to your quotation out of Origen, that 
 I have given already to what you have cited out 
 of Ircna'us. Athanasius indeed says, that kinu;s are 
 not accountable before human tribunals. But I won- 
 der who told Athanasius this ! I do not hear, that he 
 produces any authority from Scrijjture, to confirm this 
 assertion. And I will rather believe king^s and emper- 
 ors themselves, who deny that they themselves have 
 any such privilege, than I will Athanasius. Then you 
 quote Ambrosius, who after he had been a proconsul, 
 and after that became a catechumen, at last got into a 
 bishopric : but for his authority, I say, that his inter- 
 pretation of those words of David, "against thee only 
 I have sinned," is both ignorant and adulatory. He 
 was willing all others should be enthralled to the em- 
 peror, that he might enthral the emperor to himself 
 We all know with what a papal pride and arrogancy 
 he treated Theodosius the emperor, how he took upon 
 him to declare him guilty of that massacre at Thessa- 
 lonica,and to forbid him coming into the church : how 
 miserably raw in divinity, and unacquainted with the 
 doctrine of the gospel, he shewed himself upon that 
 occasion ; when the emperor fell down at his feet, he 
 commanded him to get him out of the porch. At last, 
 when he was received again into the communion of 
 the church, and had oftered, because he continued 
 standing near to the altar, the magisterial prelate com- 
 manded him out of the rails: "O Emperor," says he, 
 "these inner places are for the priests only, it is not 
 lawful for others to come within them !" Does this 
 sound like the behaviour of a minister of the gospel, or 
 like that of a Jewish high-priest ? And yet tliis man, 
 such as we hear he was, would have the emperor ride 
 other people, that himself might ride him, which is a 
 common trick of almost all ecclesiastics. With words to 
 
 this purpose, he put back the emperor as inferior to 
 himself; "You rule over men," saith he, "that are 
 partakers of the same nature, and fellow-servants with 
 yourself: for there is only one Lord and King over all, 
 to wit, the Creator of all." This is very pretty ! This 
 piece of truth, which the craft and flattery of clergy- 
 men has all along endeavoured to suppress and obscure, 
 was then brought to light by the furious passion, or 
 to speak more mildly, by the ignorant indiscreet zeal, 
 of one of them. After you have displayed Ambrose's 
 ignorance, you shew your own, or rather, vent a heresy 
 in affirming point blank. That " under the Old Testa- 
 ment, there was no such thing as forgiveness of sins 
 upon the account of Christ's suflTerings, since David 
 confessed his transgression, saying. Against thee only 
 have I sinned," Psal. Iviii. It is the orthodox tenet, 
 that there never was any remission of sins, but by the 
 blood of the Lamb that was slain from the beginning 
 of the world. I know not whose disciple you are, that 
 set up for a broacher of new heresies : but certain I 
 am, that that great divine's disciple, whom you are so 
 angry with, did not mistake himself, when he said, 
 that any one of David's subjects might have said, 
 " Against thee only have I sinned," as properly, and 
 with as much right, as David himself Then you 
 quote St. Austin, and produce a company of Hipponen- 
 sian divines. What you allege out of St. Austin makes 
 not at all against us. We confess that as the prophet 
 Daniel has it, it is God that changeth times, sets up 
 one kingdom, and pulls down another; we only desire 
 to have it allowed us, that he makes use of men as bis 
 instruments. If God alone gave a kingdom to King 
 Charles, God alone has taken it from him again, and 
 given it to the parliament, and to the people. If there- 
 fore our allegiance was due to King Charles, because 
 God had given him a kingdom ; for the same reason it 
 is now due to the present magistracy. For yourself 
 confess, that God has given our magistrates such power 
 as he uses to give to wicked princes, for the punish- 
 ment of the nation. And the consequence of this will 
 be, that according to your own o])inion, our present 
 magistrates being raised and appointed by God, cannot 
 lawfully be deposed by any, but God himself. Thus 
 you overthrow the opinion you pretend to maintain, 
 which is a thing very frequent with you ; your apology 
 for the king carries its death's wound in it. You 
 have attained to such a prodigious degree of mad- 
 ness and stupidity, as to prove it unlawful upon any 
 account whatsoever, to lift up one's finger against 
 magistrates, and with the very next breath to affirm, 
 that it is the duty of their subjects to rise np in re- 
 bellion against them. You tell us, that St. Jerom calls 
 Ishmael, that slew Gedaliah, a parricide or traitor: 
 and it is very true, that he was so : for Gedaliah was 
 deputy governor of Judtea, a good man, and slain by 
 Ishmael without any cause. The same author in his 
 comment upon the book of Ecclesiastes, says, that 
 Solomon's command to keep the king's commandment, 
 is the same with St. Paul's doctrine upon the same 
 subject ; and deserves commendation for having made 
 a more moderate construction of that text, than most 
 
366 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 of his contemporaries. You say, you will forbear in- 
 quiring' into the sentiments of learned men that lived 
 since St. Austin's time: but to shew that you had 
 rather dispense with a lie, than not quote any author 
 that you think makes for you, in the very next period 
 but one you produce the authorities of Isidore, Grcf^ory, 
 and Otho, Spanish and Dutch authors, that lived in 
 the most barbarous and ig-norant ages of all ; whose 
 authorities, if you knew how much we despise, you 
 would not have told a lie to have quoted them. But 
 would you know the reason why he dares not come so 
 low as to the present times ? why he does as it were 
 hide himself, and disappear, when he comes towards 
 our own times.'* The reason is, because he knows full 
 well, that as many eminent divines as there are of the 
 reformed churches, so many adversaries he would have 
 to encounter. Let him take up the cud<rels, if he 
 thinks fit ; he will quickly find himself run down with 
 innumerable authorities out of Luther, Zuing'lius, Cal- 
 vin, Buccr, Martyr, Parceus, and the rest. I could 
 oppose you with testimonies out of divines, that have 
 flourished even in Leyden. Thoug-h that famous uni- 
 versity and renowned commonwealth, which has been 
 as it were a sanctuary for liberty, those fountains and 
 streams of all polite leamingf, have not yet been able 
 to wash away that slavish rust that sticks to you, and 
 infuse a little humanity into you. Finding- yourself 
 destitute of any assistance or help from orthodox pro- 
 testant divines, you have the impudence to betake 
 yourself to the Sorbonists, whose college you know is 
 devoted to the Romish religion, and consequently but 
 of very weak authority amongst protestants. We are 
 willing to deliver so wicked an assertor of tyranny as 
 you, to be drowned in the Sorbonne, as being ashamed 
 to own so despicable a slave as you shew yourself to 
 be, by maintaining that the whole body of a nation is 
 not equal in power to the most slothful degenerate 
 prince that may be. You labour in vain to lay that 
 upon the pope, which all free nations, and all orthodox- 
 divines, own and assert. But the pope and his clergy, 
 when they were in a low condition, and but of small 
 account in the world, were the first authors of this per- 
 nicious absurd doctrine of yours; and when by preach- 
 ing such doctrine they had gotten power into their 
 own hands, they became the worst of tyrants them- 
 selves. Yet they engaged all princes to them by the 
 closest tie imaginable, persuading the world, that was 
 now besotted with their superstition, that it was un- 
 lawful to depose princes, though never so bad, unless 
 the pope dispensed with their allegiance to them, by 
 absolving them from their oaths. But you avoid or- 
 thodox writers, and endeavour to burden the truth with 
 prejudice and calumny, by making the pope the first 
 assertor of what is a known and common received 
 opinion amongst them ; which if you did not do it 
 cunningly, you would make yourself appear to be 
 neither papist nor protestant, but a kind of mongrel 
 Idumean Ilerodian. For as they of old adored one 
 most inhuman bloody tyrant for the Messias, so you 
 would have the world fall down and worship all. You 
 boast, that " you have confirmed your opinion by the 
 
 testimonies of the fathers that flourished in the fou 
 first centuries; whose writings only are evangelica 
 and according to the truth of the christian religion^ 
 Tiiis man is past all shame ! how many things did the 
 preach, how many things have they published, whic 
 Christ and his apostles never taught ! How man 
 things arc there in their writings, in which all protea 
 ant divines diflfer from them ! But what is that opinic 
 that you have confirmed by their authorities.'* " Whj 
 that evil princes are appointed by God." Allow thai 
 as all other pernicious and destructive things ar< 
 What then ? why, " that therefore they have no jud( 
 but God alone, that they are above all human laws 
 that there is no law, written or unwritten, no law of 
 natme, nor of God, to call them to account before their 
 own subjects." But how comes that to pass? Certain 
 I am that there is no law against it: no penal law ex- 
 cepts kings. And all reason and justice requires, that 
 those that oflTend, should be punished according to 
 their deserts, without respect of persons. Nor have 
 you hitherto produced any one law, either written or 
 unwritten, of God or of nature, by which this is forbid- 
 den. What stands in the way then ? Why may not 
 kings be proceeded against .' Why, " because they 
 are appointed by God, be they never so bad." I do 
 not know whether I had best call you a knave, or a 
 fool, or i|Tfnorant, unlearned barbarian. You shew 
 yourself a vile wretch, by pro])agating a doctrine so 
 destructive and pernicious ; and you are a fool for 
 backing it with such silly arguments. God says in 
 Isa. liv. " I have created the slayer to destroy." Then 
 by your reason a murderer is above the laws. Turn 
 this topsyturvy, and consider it as long" as you will, 
 you will find the consequence to be the same with your 
 own. For the pope is appointed by God, just as ty- 
 rants are, and set up for the punishment of the church, 
 which I have already demonstrated out of your own 
 writings. " And yet," say you, Wal. Mes. pag. 412, 
 " because he has raised his primacy to an insuflTerabl' 
 height of power, so as that he has made it neither bei 
 ter nor worse than plain downright tj'ranny, both Ik 
 and his bishops may be put down more lawfully, than 
 they were at first set up." You tell us, that the ])oj)e 
 and the bisho])s (though God in his wrath appointed 
 them) may yet lawfully be rooted out of the church, 
 because they are tyrants ; and yet you deny that it is 
 lawful to depose a tyrant in the commonwealth, and 
 that for no other reason, than because God appointed 
 him, though he did it in his anger. What ridiculous 
 stuff is this ! for whereas the pope cannot hurt a man's 
 conscience against his own will, for in the conscienct - 
 of men it is that his kingdom consists, yet you are fm 
 deposing him as a grievous tyrant, in whose own power 
 it is not to he a tyrant ; and yet you maintain, that a 
 tyrant properly and truly so called, a tyrant that has 
 all our lives and estates within his reach, without whose 
 assistance the pope himself could not exercise his ty- 
 ranny in the church, ought for conscience sake to Lr 
 born withal and submitted to. These assertions com- 
 pared with one another betray your childishness to that 
 degree, that no man can read your books, but must ol 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 367 
 
 necessity take notice of your ignorance, rashness, and 
 iiicog'itancj. But you allege another reason, " human 
 1 afTairs would be turned upside down." They would 
 I so, and be chan^^ed for the better. Human affairs would 
 I certainly be in a deplorable condition, if being once 
 troubled and disordered, there was a necessity of their 
 continuing always so. I say, they would be changed 
 for the better, for the king's power would revert to the 
 people, from whom it was first derived, and conferred 
 upon one of themselves ; and the power would be trans- 
 ferred from him that abused it, to them that were pre- 
 judiced and injured by the abuse of it; than which 
 nothing can be more just, for there could not well be 
 an umpire in such a case; who would stand to the 
 judgment of a foreigner .'' all mankind would equally 
 be subject to the laws ; there would be no gods of flesh 
 and blood : which kind of deities whoever goes about 
 to set up in the world, they are equally injurious to 
 church and commonwealth. Now I must turn your 
 own weapons upon you again. You say, " there can 
 be no greater heresy than this, to set up one man in 
 Christ's scat. These two are infallible marks of Anti- 
 christ, infallibility in spirituals, and omnipotence in tem- 
 porals." Apparat. ad Prim, page 171. Do you pretend 
 that kings are infallible ? If you do not, why do you 
 make them omnipotent ? And how comes it to pass, 
 that an unlimited power in one man should be accounted 
 less destructive to temporal things, than it is to eccle- 
 siastical ? Or do you think, that God takes no care at 
 all of civil affairs.-* If he takes none himself, I am sure 
 he does not forbid us to take care which way they go. 
 If he does take any care about them, certainly he would 
 have the same reformation made in the commonwealth, 
 that he would have made iu the church, especially it 
 being obvious to every man's experience, that infalli- 
 bility and omnipotency being arrogated to one man, 
 are equally mischievous in both. God has not so mo- 
 delled the government of the world as to make it the 
 duty of any civil community to submit to the cruelties 
 of tyrants, and yet to leave the church at liberty to free 
 themselves from slavery and tyranny ; nay, rather quite 
 contrary, he has put no arms into the church's hand 
 but those of patience and innocence, prayer and eccle- 
 siastical discipline ; but in the commonwealth, all the 
 magistracy are by him entrusted with the preservation 
 and execution of the laws, with the power of punishing 
 and revenging; he has put the sword into their hands. 
 I cannot but smile at this man's preposterous whimsies ; 
 in ecclesiastics he is Helvidius, Thraseas, a perfect ty- 
 rannicide. In politics no man more a lackey and slave 
 to tyrants than he. If his doctrine hold, not we only 
 that have deposed our king, but the protestants in gene- 
 ral, who against ihe minds of their princes have rejected 
 the pope, are all rebels alike. But I have confounded 
 him long- enoug-h with his own arguments. Such is 
 the nature of the beast, lest his adversary should be 
 unprovided, he himself furnishes him with weapons. 
 Never did any man give his antagonist gi*eater advan- 
 tages against himself than he does. They that he has 
 to do withal, will be sooner weary of pursuing him, 
 than he of flvinar. 
 
 CHAP. XV. 
 
 Perhaps you think, Salmasius, that you have done 
 enough to ingratiate yourself with princes ; that you 
 have deserved well of them : but if they consider their 
 own interest, and take their measures according to 
 what it really is, not according to the false gloss that 
 your flatterers have put upon it, there never was any 
 man in the world that deserved so ill of them as you, 
 none more destructive and pernicious to them and their 
 interest in the whole world than yourself. For by ex- 
 alting the power of kings above all human laws, you 
 tell all mankind that are subject to such a government, 
 that they are no better than slaves, and make them 
 but the more desirous of liberty by discovering to them 
 their errour, and putting that into their heads, that they 
 never so much as dreamt of before, to wit, that they 
 are slaves to their princes. And without doubt such a 
 sort of government will be more irksome and unsufTer- 
 able, by how much the more you persuade the world, 
 that it is not by the allowance and submission of na- 
 tions, that kings have obtained this exorbitant power ; 
 but that is absolutely essential to such a form of govern- 
 ment, and of the nature of the thing itself So that 
 whether you make the world of your mind or no, your 
 doctrine must needs be mischievous and destructive, 
 and such as cannot but be abhorred of all princes. 
 For if you should work men into a persuasion, that the 
 right of kings is without all bounds, they would no 
 longer be subject tea kingly government; if you miss 
 of your aim, yet you make men weary of kings, by 
 telling them that they assume such a power to them- 
 selves, as of right belonging to them. But if princes 
 will allow of those principles that I assert; if they will 
 suffer themselves and their own power to be circum- 
 scribed by laws, instead of an uncertain, weak, and 
 violent govemment, full of cares and fears, they will 
 reign peaceably, quietly, and securely. If they slight 
 this counsel of mine, though wholesome in itself, be- 
 cause of the meanness of the author, they shall know 
 that it is not my counsel only, but what was anciently 
 advised by one of the wisest of kings. For Lycurgus 
 king of Lacedemon, when he observed that his own re- 
 lations that were princes of Argos and Messana, by en- 
 deavouring to introduce an arbitrary government had 
 ruined themselves and their people ; he, that he might 
 benefit his country, and secure the succession to his own 
 family, could think upon no better expedient, than to 
 communicate his power to the senate, and taking the 
 great men of the realm into part of the government with 
 himself; and by this means the crown continued in his 
 family for many ages. But whether it was Lycurgus, or, 
 as some learned men are of opinion, Theopompus, that in- 
 troduced that mi.xed form of government among the La- 
 cedemonians, somewhat more than a hundred years after 
 Lj'curgus's time, (of whom it is recorded, that he used 
 to boast, that by advancing the power of the senate 
 above that of the prince, he had settled the kingdom 
 upon a sure foundation, and was like to leave it in a 
 lasting and durable condition to his posterity,) which of 
 
368 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 tbem soever it was, T say, he has left a gt)od example 
 to modern princes; and was as creditable a counsellor, 
 as his counsel was safe. For that all men should sub- 
 mit to any one man, so as to acknowledg'e a power in 
 him superior to all human laws, neither did any law 
 ever enact, nor indeed was it possible that any such 
 law should ever be; for that cannot be said to be a law 
 that strikes at the root of all laws, and takes them quite 
 away: it being apparent that your positions are incon- 
 sistent with the nature of all laws, being- such as ren- 
 der them no laws at all. You endeavour notwith- 
 standing-, in this fourth chapter, to make good by 
 examples, what you have not been able to do by any 
 reasons that you have alleged hitherto. I^et us con- 
 sider whether your examples help your cause ; for they 
 many times make things plain, which the laws are 
 cither altogether silent in, or do but hint at. We will 
 begin first with the Jews, whom we suppose to have 
 known most of the mind of God ; and then, according 
 to your own method, we will come to the times of 
 Christianity. And first, for those times in which the 
 Israelites being subject to kings, who, or howsoever 
 they were, did their utmost to cast tiiat slavish yoke 
 from off their necks. Eglon the king of Moab had 
 made a conquest of them ; the seat of his empire 
 was at Jericho ; he was no contemner of the true God ; 
 when his name was mentioned, he rose from his seat: 
 the Israelites had served him eighteen years; they sent 
 a present to him, not as to an enemy, but to their own 
 prince ; notwithstanding which outward veneration 
 and profession of subjection, they killed him by a wile, 
 as an enemy to their country. You will say perhaps, 
 that Ehud, who did that action, had a warrant from 
 God for so doing. He had so, it is like ; and what 
 greater argument of its being a warrantable and 
 praiseworthy action ? God uses not to put men upon 
 things that are unjust, treacherous, and cruel, but upon 
 such things as are virtuous and laudable. But we read 
 no where that there was any positive command from 
 Heaven in the case. " The Israelites called upon 
 God ;" so did we. And God stirred up a saviour for 
 them ; so he did for us. Eglon of a neighbouring 
 prince became a prince of the Jews ; of an enemy to 
 them he became their king. Our gentleman of an 
 English king became an enemy to the English nation ; 
 so that he ceased to be a king. Those capacities are 
 inconsistent. No man can be a member of the state, 
 and an enemy to it at the same time. Antony was 
 never looked upon by the Romans as a consul, nor 
 Nero as an emperor, after the senate had voted them 
 both enemies. This Cicero tells us in his Fourth Phi- 
 lippic: "If Antony be a consul," says he, " Brutus is 
 an enemy; but if Brutus be a saviour and preserver of 
 the commonwealth, Antony is an enemy: none but 
 robbers count him a consul." By the same reason, say 
 I, who but enemies to their country look upon a ty- 
 rant as a king? So that Eglon's being a foreigner, 
 and King Charles a prince of our own, will make no 
 difference in the case ; both being enemies and both 
 tyrants, they are in the same circumstances. If Ehud 
 killed him justly, we have done so too in putting our 
 
 king to death. Samson that renowned champion of 
 the Hebrews, though his countrymen blamed him for 
 it, " Dost thou not know," say they, " that the Philis- 
 tines have dominion over us ?" Yet against those 
 Philistines, under whose dominion he was, he himself 
 undertook a war in his own person, without any other 
 help ; and whether he acted in pursuance of a com- 
 mand from Heaven, or was prompted by his own valour 
 only, or whatsoever inducement he had, he did not 
 put to death one, but many, that tyrannized over his 
 country, having first called upon God by prayer, and 
 implored his assistance. So that Samson counted it no 
 act of impiety, but quite contrary, to kill those that 
 enslaved his country, though they had dominion over 
 himself too ; and though the greater part of his coun- 
 trymen submitted to their tyranny. " But yet David, 
 who was both a king and a prophet, would not take 
 away Saul's life, because he was God's anointed." 
 Does it follow, that because David refused to do a 
 thing, therefore we are obliged not to do that very 
 thing ? David was a private person, and would not 
 kill the king ; is that a precedent for a parliament, for 
 a whole nation ? David would not revenge his own 
 quarrel, by putting his enemy to death by stealth ; 
 does it follow, that therefore the magistrates must not 
 punisl a malefactor according to law ? He would not 
 kill a king ; must not an assembly of the states there- 
 fore punish a tyrant.'' he scrupled the killing of God's 
 anointed ; must the people therefore scruple to condemn 
 their own anointed ? especially one that after having 
 so long professed hostility against his own people, and 
 washed off that anointing of his, whether sacred or 
 civil, with the blood of his own subjects. I confess 
 that those kings, whom God by his prophets anointed 
 to be kings, or appointed to some special service, as he 
 did Cyrus, Isa. xliv. may not improperly be called the 
 Lord's anointed : but all other princes, according to the 
 several ways of their coming to the government, arc 
 the people's anointed, or the army's, or many times the 
 anointed of their own faction only. But taking it for 
 granted, that all kings are God's anointed, you can 
 never prove, that therefore they are above all laws, 
 and not to be called in question, what villanies soevei 
 they commit. What if David laid a charge upon him- 
 self and other private persons, not to stretch forth theif 
 hands against the Lord's anointed ? Does not God 
 himself command princes not so much as " to toucli 
 his anointed.^" which were no other than his people," 
 Psal. cv. He preferred that anointing, wherewith his 
 people were anointed, before that of kings, if any 
 such thing were. Would any man offer to infer from 
 this place of the Psalmist, that believers are not to 
 be called in question, though they offend against the 
 laws, because God commands princes not to touch his 
 anointed ? King Solomon was about to put to death 
 Abiathar the priest, though he were God's anointed too; 
 and did not spare him because of his anointing, but be- 
 cause he had been his father's friend. If thatsacred and 
 civil anointing, wherewith the high priest of the Jews 
 was anointed, whereby he was not only constituted high 
 priest, but a temporal magistrate in many cases, did 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 3C9 
 
 not exempt him from the penalty of the laws ; how- 
 comes a civil anointing- only to exempt a tyrant? But 
 you say, " Saul was a tyrant, and worthy of death :" 
 What then ? It does not follow, that because he de- 
 served it, that David in the circumstances he was then 
 under had power to put him to death -without the people's 
 authority, or the command of the magistracy. But 
 was Saul a tyrant ? I wish you would say so ; indeed 
 you do so, though you had said before in your Second 
 Book, pag-e 32, That " he was no tyrant, but a good 
 king, and chosen of God." Why should false accusers, 
 and men guilty of forgery, be branded, and you escape 
 without the like ignominious mark ? For they practise 
 their villanies with less treachery and deceit, than you 
 write and treat of matters of the greatest moment. 
 Saul was a good king, when it served your turn to 
 have him so ; and now he is a tyrant, because it suits 
 with your present purpose. But it is no wonder, that 
 you make a tyrant of a good king; for your principles 
 look as if they were invented for no other design, than 
 to make all good kings so. But yet David, though he 
 would not put to death his father-in-law, for causes 
 and reasons that we have nothing to do withal, yet in 
 his own defence, he raised an army, took and possessed 
 cities that belonged to Saul, and would have defended 
 Kcilah against the king's forces, had he not under- 
 stood, that the citizens would be false to him. Suppose 
 Saul had besieged the town, and himself had been the 
 first that had scaled the walls; do you think David 
 would presently have thrown down his arms, and have 
 betrayed all those that assisted him to his anointed 
 enemy ? I believe not. What reason have we to think 
 David would have stuck to do what we have done, 
 who when his occasions and circumstances so required, 
 proffered his assistance to the Philistines, who were 
 then the professed enemies of his country, and did that 
 against Saul, which I am sure we should never have 
 done against our tyrant ? I am weary of mentioning 
 your lies, and ashamed of them. You say, it is a maxim 
 of the English, " That enemies are rather to he spared 
 than friends;" and that therefore " we conceived we 
 ought not to spare our king's life, because he had been 
 our friend." You impudent liar, what mortal ever 
 heard this whimsy before you invented it? But we 
 will excuse it. You could not bring in that thread- 
 bare flourish, of our being more fierce than our own 
 mastiffs, (which now comes in the fifth time^and will as 
 oft again before we come to the end of your book,) with- 
 out some such introduction. We are not so much more 
 fierce than our own mastiffs, as you are more hungry 
 than any dog whatsoever, who return so greedily to 
 what you have vomited up so often. Then you tell us, 
 that David commanded the Amalekite to be put to 
 death, who pretended to have killed Saul. But that 
 instance, neither in respect to the fact, nor the person, 
 has any affinity with what we are discoursing of. I do 
 not well understand what cause David had to be so 
 severe upon that man, for pretending to have hastened 
 the king's death, and in effect to have put him out of 
 his pain, when he was dying; unless it were to take 
 away from the Israelites all suspicion of his own hav- 
 
 ing been instrumental in it, whom they might look upon 
 as one that had revolted to the Philistines, and was part 
 of their army. Just such another action as this of Da- 
 vid's do all men blame in Domitian, who put to death 
 Epaphroditus, because he had helped Nero to kill him- 
 self. After all this, as another instance of your impu- 
 dence, you call him not only the " anointed of the 
 Lord," but " the Lord's Christ," who a little before you 
 said was a tyrant, and acted by the impulse of some 
 evil spirit. Such mean thoughts you have of that reve- 
 rend name, that you are not ashamed to give it to a 
 tyrant, whom you yourself confess to have been pos- 
 sessed with the devil. Now I come to that precedent, 
 from which every man that is not blind, must needs 
 infer the right of the people to be superiour to that of 
 kings. When Solomon was dead, the people assem- 
 bled themselves at Sichem to make Rchoboam king. 
 Thither himself went, as one that stood for the place, 
 that he might not seem to claim the succession as his 
 inheritance, nor the same right over a freeboni people, 
 that every man has over his father's sheep and oxen. 
 The people propose conditions, upon which they were 
 willing to admit him to the government. He desires 
 three days' time to advise ; he consults with the old 
 men ; they tell him no such thing, as that he had an 
 absolute right to succeed, but persuade hini to comply 
 with the people, and speak them fair, it being in their 
 power whether he should reign or not. Then he ad- 
 vises with the young men that were brought up with 
 him ; they, as if Salmasius's phrenzy had taken them, 
 thunder this right of kings into his ears ; persuade him 
 to threaten the people with whips and scorpions : and 
 he answered the people as they advised him. When 
 all Israel saw, that the king hearkened not to them, 
 then they openly protest the right of the people, and 
 their own liberty ; " What portion have we in David ? 
 To thy tents, O Israel ! now look to thine own house, 
 David." When the king sent Adoram to them, they 
 stoned him with stones, and perhaps they would not have 
 stuck to have served the king himself so, but he made 
 haste and got out of the way. The next news isof a great 
 army raised by Rehoboam, to reduce the Israelites to 
 their allegiance. God forbids him to proceed, " Go 
 not up," says he, " to war against your brethren the 
 children of Israel ; for this thing is of me." Now con- 
 sider, heretofore the people had desired a king ; God 
 was displeased Avith them for it, but yet permitted them 
 to make a king according to that right that all nations 
 have to appoint their own governors. Now the people 
 reject Rehoboam from ruling them ; and this God not 
 only suffers them to do, but forbids Rehoboam to 
 make war against them for it, and stops him in his 
 undertaking; and teaches him withal, that those that 
 had revolted from him were not rebels in so doing; 
 but that he ought to look upon them as brethren. 
 Now recollect yourself: you say, that all kings are 
 of God, and that therefore the people ought not to 
 resist them, be they never such tyrants. I answer 
 you, the convention of the people, their votes, their 
 acts, are likewise of God, and that by the testimony 
 of God himself in this place ; and consequently ac- 
 
370 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 cording to your argument, by the authority of God 
 himself, princes ought not to resist the people. For 
 as certain as it is, that kings are of God, and what- 
 ever argument you may draw from thence lo enforce a 
 subjection and obedience to them : so certain is it, that 
 free assemblies of the body of the people are of God, 
 and that naturally affords the same argument for their 
 right of restraining princes from going beyond their 
 bounds, and rejecting them if there be occasion ; nor is 
 their so doing a justifiable cause of war, any more than 
 the people of Israel's rejecting Relioboam was. You 
 ask why the people did not revolt from Solomon ? 
 Who but you would ask such an impertinent question ? 
 You see they did revolt from a tyrant, and were neither 
 punished nor blamed for it It is true, Solomon fell 
 into some vices, but he was not therefore a tyrant ; he 
 made amends for his vices by many excellent virtues, 
 that he was famous for, by many benefits which accrued 
 to the nation of the Jews by his government. But 
 admit that he had been a tyrant : many times the cir- 
 cumstances of a nation are such that the people will 
 not, and many times such that they cannot, depose a 
 tyrant. You see they did it when it was in their 
 power. " But," say you, " Jeroboam's act was ever 
 had in detestation ; it was looked upon as an unjust 
 revolt from a lawful prince; he and his successors were 
 accounted rebels." I confess we find his revolt from 
 the true worship of God often found fault with ; but I 
 no where find him blamed for revolting from Rehobo- 
 am ; and his successors are frequently spoken of as 
 wicked princes, but not as rebels. " Acting contrary 
 to law and right," say you, " cannot introduce or 
 establish a right." I pray, what becomes then of your 
 right of kings.' Thus do you perpetually baffle your- 
 self You say, " Adulteries, murders, thefts are daily 
 committed with impunity." Are you not aware, that 
 here you give an answer to j'our own question, how it 
 comes to pass, that tyrants do so often escape un- 
 punished ? You say, " Those kings were rebels, and 
 yet the prophets do no where dissuade the people from 
 their allegiance." And why do you, you rascally false 
 prophet, endeavour to persuade the people of England 
 not to yield obedience to their present magistrates, 
 though in your opinion they are rebels ? " This Eng- 
 lish faction of robbers," say you, " allege for them- 
 selves, that by some immediate voice from Heaven, they 
 were put upon their bloody enterprise." It is noto- 
 riously evident, that you were distracted when you 
 wrote these lines; for as you have put the words toge- 
 ther, they are neither Latin, nor sense. And that the 
 English pretend to any such warrant, as a justification 
 of their actions, is one of those many lies and fictions, 
 that your book is full of. But I proceed to urge you 
 with examples. Libna, a great city, revolted from Jo- 
 ram, because he had forsaken God : it was the king 
 therefore that was guilty, not the city, nor is the city 
 blamed for it. He that considers the reason that is 
 given why that city rejected his government, must 
 conclude, that the Holy Ghost rather approves of what 
 they did than condemns them for it. " These kind of 
 revolts are no precedents," say you. But why were 
 
 you then so vain, as to promise in tlie beginning of 
 this chapter, that you would argue from exani])les, 
 whereas all the examples that you allege, arc mere 
 negatives, which prove nothing ? and when we urge 
 examples that arc solid and positive, you say they are 
 no precedents. Who would endure such a way of ar- 
 guing? You challenged us at precedents; we pii 
 duced them; and what do you do.-* you hang back, 
 and get out of the way. I proceed : Jehu, at the com- 
 mand of a pro|)het, slew a king ; nay, he ordered the 
 death of Ahaziah, his own liege prince. If God would 
 not have tyrants put to death by their own subjects, if 
 it were a wicked thing so to do, a thing of a had ex- 
 ample; why did God himself command it? If he 
 commanded it, it was a lawful, commendable, and a 
 praiseworthy action. It was not therefore lawful to 
 kill a tyrant, because God commanded it; but God 
 commanded it, because, antecedently to his command, 
 it was a justifiable and a lawful action. Again, Je- 
 hoiada the high priest did not scruple to depose Atha- 
 liah, and kill her, though she had been seven years in 
 actual possession of the crown. " But," say you, " she 
 took upon her the government, when she had no right 
 to it" And did not you say yourself, but a while ago, 
 " that Tiberius assumed the sovereignty, when it be- 
 longed not at all to him.'"' And yet you then affinned, 
 that, according to our Saviour's doctrine, we ought to 
 yield obedience to such tyrants as he was. It were a 
 most ridiculous thing to imagine, that a prince, who 
 gets in by usurpation, may lawfully be deposed ; but 
 one that rules tyrannically may not. " But," say you, 
 " Athaliah could not possibly reign according to tlie 
 law of the Jewish kingdom, ' Thou shalt set over thee 
 a king,' says God Almighty ; he does not say. Thou t 
 shalt set over thee a queen." If this argument have 
 any weight, I may as well say, the command of God 
 was, that the people should set over themselves a king, 
 not a tyrant. So that I am even with you. Amazias 
 was a slothful, idolatrous prince, and was put to death, 
 not by a few conspirators ; but rather, it should seem, 
 by the nobility, and by the body of the people. For 
 he fled from Jerusalem, had none to stand by him, 
 and they pursued him to Lachish : they took counsel 
 against him, says the history, because he had forsaken 
 God : and we do not find that Azarias his son pro- 
 secuted those that had cut oflT his father. You quote 
 a great many frivolous passages out of the rabbins, to 
 prove that the kings of the Jews were superiour to 
 the Sanhedrim. You do not consider Zedekiah's own 
 words, Jer. xxxviii. " The king is not he that can 
 do any thing against you." So that this was thf 
 prince's own style. Thus he confessed himself infc- 
 riour to the great council of the realm. '* Perhaps," 
 say you, " he meant, that he durst not deny lliem 
 any thing for fear of sedition." But what does your 
 perhaps signify, whose most positive asserting any 
 thing is not worth a louse ? For nothing in nature can 
 be more fickle and inconsistent than you are. How 
 oft you have appeared in this discourse inconsistent 
 with yourself; unsaying with one breath what you 
 have said with another ? Here, again, you make com- 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 371 
 
 parisons betwixt King Charles, and some of the good 
 king's of Judah. You speak contemptibly of David, as 
 if he were not worthy to come in competition with him. 
 '■ Consider David," say you, " an adulterer, a murderer; 
 King Charles was guilty of no such crimes. Solomon 
 his son, who was accounted wise," &c. Who can with 
 patience hear this filthy, rascally fool, speak so irrever- 
 ently of persons eminent both in greatness and piety .'* 
 Dare you compare King David with King Charles; a 
 most religious king and prophet, with a superstitious 
 prince, and who was but a novice in the christian reli- 
 gion ; a most prudent wise prince with a weak one ; a 
 valiant prince with a cowardly one ; finally, a most 
 just prince with a most unjust one.'* Have you the 
 impudence to commend his chastity and sobriety, who 
 is known to have committed all manner of lewdness in 
 company with his confident the duke of Buckingham .'' 
 It were to no purpose to inquire into the private actions 
 of his life, who publicly at plays would embrace and 
 kiss the ladies lasciviously, and handle virgins' and 
 matrons' breasts, not to mention the rest. I advise you 
 therefore, you counterfeit Plutarch, to abstain from 
 such like parallels, lest I be forced to publish those 
 tilings concerning King Charles, which I am willing 
 to conceal. Hitherto we have entertained ourselves 
 with what the people of the Jews have acted or at- 
 tempted against tyrants, and by what right they did it 
 in those times, when God himself did immediately, as 
 it were, by his voice from heaven govern their com- 
 monwealth. The ages that succeeded, do not afford us 
 any autliority, as from themselves, but confirm us in 
 our opinion by their imitating the actions of their fore- 
 fathers. For after the Babylonish captivity, when God 
 did not give any new command concerning the crown, 
 though the royal line was not extinct, we find the 
 people return to the old mosaical form of government 
 again. They were one while tributaries to Antiochus, 
 king of Syria ; yet when he enjoined them things that 
 were contrary to the law of God, they resisted him, 
 and his deputies, under the conduct of their priests, the 
 Maccabees, and by force regained their former liberty. 
 After that, whoever was accounted most worthy of it, 
 had the principality conferred upon him. Till at last, 
 Harcanus the s<m of Simon, the brother of Judah, the 
 Maccabee, having spoiled David's sepulchre, enter- 
 tained foreign soldiers, and began to invest the priest- 
 hood with a kind of regal power. After whose time 
 his son Arislobulus was the first that assumed the 
 crown ; he was a tyrant indeed, and yet the people 
 stirred not against him, which is no great wonder, for 
 he reigned but one year. And he himself being over- 
 taken with a grievous disease, and repenting of his 
 own cruelty and wickedness, desired nothing more than 
 to die, and had his wish. His brother Alexander suc- 
 ceeded him ; " and against him," you say, " the people 
 raised no insurrection, though he were a tyrant too." 
 And this lie might have gone down with us, if Jose- 
 phus's history had not been extant. We should then 
 have had no memory of those times, but what your Jo- 
 sippus would afford us, out of whom you transcribe a 
 few senseless and useless apophthegms of. the Pliari- 
 2 B 
 
 sees. The history is thus : Alexander administered 
 the public affairs ill, both in war and peace; and 
 though he kept in pay great numbers of Pisidians and 
 Cilicians, yet could he not protect himself from the 
 rage of the people: but whilst he was sacrificing they 
 fell upon him, and had almost smothered him with 
 boughs of palm trees and citron trees. Afterward the 
 whole nation made war upon him six j-ears, during 
 which time, when many thousands of the Jews had 
 been slain, and he himself being at length desirous of 
 peace, demanded of them, what they would have him 
 to do to satisfy them ; they told him nothing could do 
 that but his blood, nay, that they should hardly pardon 
 him after bis death. This history you perceived was 
 not for your purpose, and so you put it off with a few 
 Pharisaical sentences ; when it had been much better, 
 either to have let it quite alone, or to have given a true 
 relation of it : but you trust to lies more than to the 
 truth of your cause. Even those eight hundred Pha- 
 risees, whom he commanded to be crucified, were of 
 their number that had taken up arms against him. And 
 they with the rest of the people had solemnly protested, 
 that if they could subdue the king's forces, and get his 
 person into their power, they would put him to death. 
 After the death of Alexander, his wife Alexandra took 
 the government upon her, as Athaliah had formerly 
 done, not according to law, (for you have confessed, 
 that the laws of the Jews admitted not a female to wear 
 the crown,) but she got it partly by force, for she main- 
 tained an army of foreigners ; and partly by favour, 
 for she had brought over the Pharisees to her interest, 
 which sort of men were of the greatest authority with 
 the people. Them she had made her ow n, by putting 
 the power into their hands, and retaining to herself 
 only the name. Just as the Scotch presbyterians lately 
 allowed Charles the nameof king, but upon condition, 
 that he would let them be king in effect. After the 
 death of Alexandra, Hyrcanus and Aristobul us, her sons, 
 contended for the sovereignty; Aristobulus was more 
 industrious, and having a greater party, forced his 
 elder brother out of the kingdom. A while after, when 
 Pompey passed through Syria, in his return from the 
 Mithridatic war; the Jews, supposing they had now 
 an opportunity of regaining their liberty, by referring 
 their cause to him, dispatch an embassy to him in their 
 own names; they renounce both the brothers ; complain 
 that they had enslaved them. Pompey deposed Aristo- 
 bulus, leaves the priesthood, and such a principality as 
 the laws allowed, to Hyrcanus the elder. From that 
 time forward he was called high priest, and Ethnarcha. 
 After these times in the reign of Archelaus, the son of 
 Herod, the Jews sent fifty ambassadors to Augustus 
 Ccesar; accused Herod that was dead, and Archelaus 
 bis son, that then reigned ; they deposed him as much 
 as in them lay, and petitioned the emperor, that the 
 people of the Jews might be governed without a king. 
 Csesar was moved at their entreaty, and did not appoint a 
 king over them, but a governor, whom they called an 
 ethnarch. When that governor had presided ten years 
 over Judea, the people sent ambassadors again to 
 Rome, and accused hira of tvraunv. Ca-sar heard 
 
372 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 them graciously ; sent for the governor, condemned 
 him to perpetual exile, and banished him to Vienna. 
 Answer me, now, that people tiwit accused tlicir own 
 princes, that desired their condemnation, that desired 
 their punishment, would not (hey tljcmsclves rather, if 
 it had been in their power, and that they niiffht have 
 had their choice ; would not they, I say, rather have 
 put them to death themselves; you do not deny, but 
 that the people and the nobles often took up arms 
 against the Roman deputies, when by their avarice, or 
 their cruelty, their government was burdensome and 
 oppressive. But you give a ridiculous reason for this, 
 as all the rest of yours are. You say, " they were not 
 yet accustomed to the yoke ;" very like they were not, 
 under Alexander, Herod, and his son. " But," say 
 you, " tliey would not raise war ajjainst Caius Ciesar, 
 nor Petronius." I confess they did not, and they did 
 very prudently in abstaining, for they were not able. 
 Will you hear their own words, on that occasion .'' 
 " We will not make war," say they, " because we can- 
 not." That thinir, wliich they themselves acknow- 
 ledge they refrained from for want of ability, you, false 
 hypocrite, pretend they refrained from out of religion. 
 Then with a great deal of toil you do just nothing at 
 all ; for you endeavour to prove out of the fathers, 
 (though you had done it as superficially before,) that 
 kings are to be prayed for. That good kings are to be 
 prayed for, no man denies ; nay, and bad ones too, as 
 long as there are any hopes of them : so we ought to 
 pray for highwaymen, and for our enemies. But 
 how ? not that they may plunder, spoil, and murder 
 us; but that they may repent. W"e pray both for 
 thieves and enemies; and yet who ever dreamt, but 
 that it was lawful to put the laws in execution against 
 one, and to fight against the other? I value not the 
 Egyptian liturgy that you quote ; but the priest that 
 you mention, who prayed that Commodus might suc- 
 ceed his father in the empire, did not pray for any 
 thing in my opinion, but imprecated all the mischiefs 
 imaginable to the Roman state. You say, " that we 
 have broken our faith, which we engaged more than 
 once, in solemn assemblies, to preserve the authority 
 and majesty of the king." But because hereafter you 
 are more large upon that subject, I shall pass it by in 
 this place ; and talk with you when you come to it 
 again. You return then to the fathers ; concerning 
 whom take this in short. Whatever they say, which 
 is not warranted by the authority of the Scrip- 
 tures, or by good reason, shall be of no more regard 
 with me, than if any other ordinary man had said it. 
 The first that you quote is Tertullian, who is no ortlio- 
 dox writer, notorious for many errours; whose autho- 
 rity, if he were of your opinion, would stand you in no 
 stead. But what says he ? He condemns tumults 
 and rebellions. So do we. But in saying so, we do 
 not mean to destroy all the people's rights and privi- 
 leges, all the authority of senates, the power of all 
 magistrates, the king only excepted. The fathers de- 
 claim against seditions rashly raised by the giddy heat 
 of the multitude ; they speak not of the infcriour ma- 
 gistrates, of senates, of parliaments encouraging the 
 
 people to a lawful opposing of a tyrant. Hence Am- 
 bro.se, whom you quote ; " Not to resist," says he, " hut 
 to weep and to sigh, these are the bulwarks of the 
 priesthood ; what one is there of our little number, 
 who dare say to the emperor, I do not like your laws? 
 This is not allowed the priests, and shall laymen pre- 
 tend to it I*" It is evident of what sort of pei*sons he 
 speaks, viz. of the priests, and such of the people as 
 are private -men, not of the magistrates. You see by 
 how weak and preposterous a reason he lighted a torch 
 as it were to the dissensions, that were afterwards to 
 arise betwixt the laity and the clergy concerning even 
 civil or temporal laws. But because you think you 
 pressed hardest upon us with the examples of the pri- 
 mitive Christians ; who though they were harassed as 
 much as a people could be, yet, you say, " they never 
 took up arms against the emperor:" I will make it ap- 
 pear, in the first place, that for the most part they could 
 not: secondly, that whenever they could, they did: 
 and thirdly, that whether they did or did not, they 
 were such a sort of people, as that their example de- 
 serves to have little sway with us. First therefore, no 
 man can be ignorant of this, that when the common- 
 wealth of Rome expired, the whole and sovereign 
 power in the empire was settled in the emperor ; that 
 all the soldiers were under his pay; insomuch that if 
 the whole body of the senate, the equestrian order, and 
 all the common people, had endeavoured to work a 
 change, they might have made way for a massacre of 
 themselves, but could not in any probability retrieve 
 their lost liberty : for the empire would still have con- 
 tinued, though they might perhaps have been so lucky 
 as to have killed the emperor. This being so, what 
 could the Christians do ? It is true, there were a great 
 many of them ; but they were dispersed, they were gene- 
 rally pereons of mean quality, and but of small interest 
 in the world. How many of them would one legion 
 have been able to keep in awe ? Could so inconsider- 
 able a body of men as they were in those days ever 
 expect to accomplish an enterprise that many famous 
 generals, and whole armies of tried soldiers, had lost 
 their lives in attempting ? When about 300 years after 
 our Saviour's nativity, which was near upon 20 years 
 before the reign of Constantine the Great, when Dio- 
 clcsian was emperor, there was but one Christian legion 
 in the whole Roman empire ; which legion, for no 
 other reason than because it consisted of christians, was 
 slain by the rest of the army at a town in France call- 
 ed Octodurum. " The Christians," say you, " conspired 
 not with Cassius, with Albinus, with Niger;" and does 
 Tertullian think they merited by not being willing to 
 lose their lives in the quarrels of infidels? It is evident 
 therefore, that the Christians could not free themselves 
 from the yoke of the Roman emperors; and it could 
 be no M'ays advantageous to their interest to conspire 
 with infidels, as long as heathen emperors reigned. 
 But that afterwards the Christians made war upon ty- 
 rants, and defended themselves by force of arms when 
 there was occasion, and many times revenged upon 
 tyrants their enormities, I am now about to make ap- 
 pear. In the first place, Constantine, being a chris- 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 373 
 
 tian, made war upon Licinius, and cut him off, who 
 was his partner in the sovereign power, because he 
 molested the eastern Christians ; by which act of his he 
 dec]ared thus much at least, that one magistrate might 
 punish another : for he for his subjects' sake punished 
 Licinius, who to all intents was as absolute in the em- 
 pire as himself, and did not leave the vengeance to 
 God alone : Licinius might have done the same to 
 Constantine, if there had been the like occasion. So 
 then, if the matter be not wholly reserved to God's 
 own tribunal, but that men have something to do in 
 the case, why did not the parliament of England stand 
 in the same relation to King Charles, that Constantine 
 did to Licinius ? The soldiers made Constantine what 
 he was: but our laws have made our parliaments equal, 
 nay, superiour, to our kings. The inhabitants of Con- 
 stantinople resisted Constantius an Arian emperor, by 
 force of arms, as long as they were able ; they opposed 
 Hcrmogenes whom he had sent with a military power 
 to depose Paul an orthodox bishop; the house whither 
 he had betaken himself for security they fired about his 
 ears, and at last killed him right out. Constans threat- 
 ened to make war upon his brother Constantius, unless 
 he would restore Paul and Athanasius to their bishop- 
 rics. You see those holy fathers, when their bishoprics 
 were in danger, were not ashamed to stir up their 
 prince's own brother to make war upon him. Not long 
 after, the christian soldiers, who then made whom they 
 would emperors, put to death Constans the son of Con- 
 stantinus, because he behaved himself dissolutely and 
 proudly in the government, and translated the empire 
 to Magnentius. Nay, those very persons that saluted 
 Julian by the name of emperor, against Constantius's 
 will, who was actually in possession of the empire, (for 
 Julian was not then an apostate, but a virtuous and 
 valiant person,) are they not amongst the number of 
 those primitive Christians, whose example you propose 
 to us for our imitation ? Which action of theirs, when 
 Constantius by his letters to the people very sharj)ly 
 and earnestly forbad, (which letters were openly read 
 to them,) they all cried out unanimously, that them- 
 selves had but done what the provincial magistrates, 
 the army, and the authority of the commonwealth had 
 decreed. The same persons declared war against 
 Constantius, and contributed as much as in them lay, 
 to deprive him both of his government and his life. 
 How did the inhabitants of Antioch behave themselves, 
 who were none of the worst sort of Christians ? I will 
 warrant you they prayed for Julian, after he became 
 an apostate, whom they used to rail at in his own pre- 
 sence, and scoffing at his long beard hid him make 
 ropes of it : upon the news of whose death they offered 
 public thanksgivings, made feasts, and gave other 
 public demonstrations of joy. Do you think they used, 
 when he was alive, to pray for the continuance of his 
 life and health ? Nay, is it not reported, that a chris- 
 tian soldier, in his own army, was the author of his 
 death ? Sozomen, a writer of ecclesiastical history, 
 does not deny it, but commends him that did it, if the 
 fact were so. " For it is no wonder," sa3's he, " that 
 some of his own soldiers might think within himself, 
 
 that not only the Greeks, but all mankind hitherto had 
 agreed, that it was a commendable action to kill a ty- 
 rant; and that they deserve all men's praise, who are 
 willing to die themselves to procure the liberty of all 
 others : so that that soldier ought not rashly to be con- 
 demned, who in the cause of God and of religion, was 
 so zealous and valiant." These are the words of So- 
 zomen, a good and religious man of that age. By 
 which we may easily apprehend what the general 
 opinion of pious men in those days was upon this point. 
 Ambrose himself being commanded by the emperor 
 Valentinian the younger, to depart from Milan, refused 
 to obey him, but defended himself and the palace by 
 force of arms against the emperor's officers, and took 
 upon him, contrary to his own doctrine, to resist the 
 higher powers. There was a great sedition raised at 
 Constantinople against the emperor Arcadius, more 
 than once, by reason of Chrysostom's exile. Hitherto 
 I have shewn how the primitive Christians behaved 
 themselves towards tyrants ; how not only the chris- 
 tian soldiers, and the people, but the fathers of the 
 church themselves, have both made war upon them, 
 and opposed them with force, and all this before St. 
 Austin's time: for you yourself are pleased to go down 
 no lower; and therefore I make no mention of Valen- 
 tinian the son of Placidia, who was slain by Maximus 
 a senator, for committing adultery with his wife; nor 
 do I mention Avilus the emperor, whom, because he 
 disbanded the soldiers, and betook himself wholly to a 
 luxurious life, the Roman senate immediately deposed ; 
 because these things came to pass some years after St. 
 Austin's death. But all this I give you : suppose I had 
 not mentioned the practice of the primitive Christians ; 
 suppose they never had stirred in opposition to tyrants; 
 suppose they had accounted it unlawful so to do ; I 
 will make it appear, that they were not such persons, 
 as that we ought to rely upon their authority, or can 
 safely follow their example. Long before Constantine's 
 time the generality of Christians had lost much of the 
 primitive sanctity and integrity both of their doctrine 
 and manners. Afterwards, when he had vastly enriched 
 the church, they began to fall in love with honour and 
 civil power, and then the christian religion went to 
 wreck. First luxury and sloth, and then a great drove 
 of heresies and immoralities, broke loose among them ; 
 and these begot envy, hatred, and discord, which 
 abounded every where- At last, they that were linked 
 together into one brotherhood by that holy band of re- 
 ligion, were as much at variance and strife among 
 themselves as the most bitter enemies in the world 
 could be. No reverence for, no consideration of, their 
 duty was left among them : the soldiers and com- 
 manders of the army, as oft as they pleased themselves, 
 created new emperors, and sometimes killed good ones 
 as well as bad. I need not mention such as Verannio, 
 Maximus, Eugenius, whom the soldiers all of a sudden 
 advanced and made them emperors; nor Gratian, an 
 excellent prince; nor Valentinian the younger, who 
 was none of the worst, and yet were put to death by 
 them. It is true, these things were acted by the sol- 
 diers, and soldiers in the field ; but those soldiers were 
 
374 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 christians, and lived in that ag'c which you call eran- 
 g'elical, and whose example you propose to us for our 
 imitation. Now you shall hear how the clergy mana^j'ed 
 themselves : paston> and bishops, and sometimes those 
 very fathers whom we admire and extol to so hig^h a 
 deyree, every one of whom was a leader of their several 
 flocks; those very men, I say, fou^^ht for their bishop- 
 rics, as tyrants did for their sovereig'nty ; sometimes 
 throug-hout the city, sometimes in the very churches, 
 sometimes at the altar, clergymen and laymen fougiit 
 promiscuously ; they slew one another, and great 
 slaughters were made on both sides. Vou ma}' remem- 
 ber Damasus and Urcisinus, who were contemporaries 
 with Ambrose. It, would be too long to relate the tu- 
 multuary insurrections of the inhabitants of Constan- 
 tinople, Antiocli, and Alexandria, especially those under 
 the conduct and management of Cyrillus, whom you 
 extol as a preacher up of obedience ; when the monks 
 in that fight, within the city, had almost slain Orestes, 
 Theodosius's deputy. Now wlio can sufficiently won- 
 der at your impudence, or carelessness and neglect ? 
 " Till St. Austin's time, say you, and lower down than 
 the age that he lived in, there is not any mention ex- 
 tant in history, of any private person, of any com- 
 mander, or of any number of conspirators, that have 
 put their prince to death, or taken up arms against 
 him." I have named to you, out of known and ap- 
 proved histories, both private persons and magistrates, 
 that with their own hands have slain not only bad but 
 very good princes : whole armies of Christians, many 
 bishops among them, that have fought against their 
 own emperors. You produce some of the fathers, that 
 with a great flourish of words, persuade or boast of 
 obedience to princes : and I, on the other side, produce 
 both those same fathers, and others besides them, that 
 by their actions have declined obedience to ihcir princes, 
 even in lawful things; have defended themselves with 
 a military force against them ; others that have opposed 
 forcibly, and wounded their deputies ; and others that, 
 being competitors for bishoprics, have maintained civil 
 wars against one another : as if it were lawful for 
 Christians to wage war with Christians for a bishopric, 
 and citizens with citizens; but unlawful to fight 
 against a tyrant, in defence of our liberty, of our wives 
 and children, and of our lives themselves. Who would 
 own such fathers as these .'* You produce St. Austin, 
 who, you say, asserts, that " the power of a master over 
 his servants, and a prince over his subjects, is one and 
 the same thing." But I answer; if St. Austin assert 
 any such thing, he asserts what neither our Saviour, 
 nor any of his apostles ever asserted ; though for the 
 confirmation of that assertion, than which nothing can 
 be more false, he pretends to rely wholly upon their 
 autliority. The three or four last j)agcs of this fourth 
 chapter, are stuffed with mere lies, or things carelessly 
 and loosely put together, that are little to the purpose: 
 and that every one that reads them, will discover by 
 what has been said already. For what concerns the 
 pope, against whom you disclaim so loudly, I am con- 
 tent you should bawl at him, till you are hoarse. But 
 
 whereas you endeavour to persuade the ignorant, that 
 " all that called themselves Christians, yielded an entire 
 obedience to princes, whether good or bad, till tlje 
 papal power grew to that licight, that it was acknow- 
 ledged superiour to that of tlie civil magistrate, and till 
 he took upon him to absolve subjects from their allegi- 
 ance :" I have sufficiently j)roved by many examples 
 before and since the age that St. Augustine lived in, 
 that nothing can be more false. Neither does that 
 seem to have much more truth in it, which you say in 
 the last ])lace ; viz. that pope Zachary absolved the 
 Frenchmen from their oath of allegiance to their king. 
 For Francis Hottoman, who was both a Frenchman 
 and a lawyer, and a very leanied man, in the 13th 
 chapter of his Francogallia, denies that either Chil- 
 peric was deposed, or the kingdom translated to Pepin, 
 by the pope's authority; and he proves out of very an- 
 cient chronicles of that nation, that the whole affair was 
 transacted in the great council of the kingdom, accord- 
 ing to the original constitution of that government. 
 Which being once done, the French histories, and pope 
 Zachary himself, deny that there was any necessity of 
 absolving his subjects from their allegiance. For not 
 only Hottoman, but Guiccard, a very eminent historian 
 of that nation, informs us, that the ancient records of 
 the kingdom of France testify, that the subjects of that 
 nation upon the first institution of kingship amongst 
 them, reserved a power to themselves, both of choosing' 
 their princes, and of deposing them again, if they 
 thought fit : and that the oath of allegiance, which 
 they took, was upon this express condition ; to wit, 
 that the king should likewise perform what at his 
 coronation he swore to do. So that if kings, by 
 misgoverning the people committed to their charge, 
 first broke their own oath to their subjects, there 
 needs no pope to dispense with the people's oaths ; 
 the kings themselves by their own perfidiousness hav- 
 ing absolved their subjects. And finally, pope Zachary 
 himself, in a letter of his to the French, whicii 
 you yourself quote, renounces, and ascribes to the 
 people that authority, which you say he assumes to 
 himself: for, if a prince be accountable to the people, 
 being beholden to them for his royalty ; if the people, 
 since they make kings, have the same right to deport 
 them, as the very words of that pope are; it is not 
 likely that the Frenchmen would by any oath depart 
 in the least from that ancient right, or ever tic up their 
 own hands, so as not to have the same right that their 
 ancestors always had, to depose bad princes, as well 
 as to honour and obey good ones; nor is it likely that 
 they thought themselves obliged to yield that obedience 
 to tyrants, which they swore to yield only to good 
 princes. A people obliged to obedience by such an 
 oath is discharged of that obligation, when a lawful 
 prince becomes a tyrant, or gives himself over to slotli 
 and voluptuousness; the rule of justice, the very law 
 of nature, dispenses with such a people's allegiance. So 
 that even by the pope's own opinion, the people were 
 under no obligation to yield obedience to Chilporic, 
 and consequently had no need of a dispensation. ji 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 375 
 
 CHAR V. 
 
 Though T am of opinion, Salmasius, and always 
 ■was, that tlie law of God does exactly aj^'ree with the 
 law of nature ; so that having' shewn wliat the law of 
 God is, with respect to princes, and what the practice 
 has been of the people of God, both Jews and Chris- 
 tians, I have at the same time, and by the same dis- 
 course, made appear what is most agreeable to the law 
 of nature : yet because you pretend " to confute us 
 most powerfully by tlie law of nature," I will be con- 
 tent to admit that to be necessary, which before I had 
 thought would be superfluous ; that in this chapter I 
 may demonstrate, that nothing is more suitable to the 
 law of nature, than that punishment be inflicted upon 
 tyrants. Which if I do not evince, I will then agree 
 with you, that likewise by the law of God they are 
 exempt. I do not purpose to frame a long' discourse 
 of nature in general, and the original of civil societies ; 
 that argument has been largely handled by many 
 learned men, both Greek and Latin. But I shall en- 
 deavour to be as short as may be ; and my design is 
 not so much to confute you, (who would willingly have 
 spared this pains,) as to shew that you confute your- 
 self, and destroy your own j)ositions. I will beg'in 
 with that first position, which you lay down as a fun- 
 damental, and that shall be the groundwork of my en- 
 suing discourse. " The law of nature," say you, " is 
 a principle imprinted on all men's minds, to regard 
 the good of all mankind, considering^ men as united 
 together in societies. But this innate principle cannot 
 procure that common good, unless, as there are people 
 that must be governed, so that very principle ascertain 
 who shall g'overn them " To wit, Icot the stronger op- 
 press the weaker, and those persons, who for their 
 mutual safety and protection have united themselves 
 together, should be disunited and divided by injury 
 and violence, and reduced to a bestial savage life again. 
 This I suppose is what you mean. " Out of the num- 
 ber of those that united into one body," you say, " there 
 must needs have been some chosen, who excelled the rest 
 in wisdom and valour; that they, either by force or by 
 persuasion, might restrain those that were refractory, 
 and keep them within due bounds. Sometimes it would 
 so fall out, that one single person, w hose conduct and 
 Talour was extraordinary, might be able to do this, and 
 sometimes more assisted one another with their advice 
 and counsel. But since it is impossible, thai any one 
 man should order all things himself, there was a neces- 
 sity of his consulting with others, and taking some 
 into part of the government with himself; so that 
 whether a single person reign, or whether the supreme 
 power reside in tlie body of the people, since it is im- 
 possible, that all should administer the affairs of the 
 commonwealth, or that one man should do all, the 
 government does always lie upon the shoulders of 
 many. And afterwards you say, " both forms of go- 
 vernment, whether by many or a few, or by a single 
 person, are equally according to the law of nature, viz. 
 That it is impossible for any single person so to go- 
 
 vern alone, as not to admit others into a share of the 
 government with himself." Though I might have 
 taken all this out of the third book of Aristotle's Poli- 
 tics, I chose rather to transcribe it out of your owji 
 book ; for you stole it from him, as Prometheus did fire 
 from Jupiter, to the ruin of monarchy, and overthrow 
 of yourself, and your own opinion. For inquire as 
 diligently as you can for your life into the law of 
 nature, as you have described it, you will not find the 
 least footstep in it of kingly power, as you explain it. 
 " The law of nature," say you, " in ordering who 
 should govern others, respected the universal good of 
 all mankind." It did not then regard the private good 
 of any particular person, not of a prince; so that the 
 king is for the people, and consequently the people 
 superiour to him : which being allowed, it is impos- 
 sible that princes should have any right to oppress or 
 enslave the people; that the inferiour should have right 
 to tyrannize over the superiour. So that since kings 
 cannot pretend to any right to do mischief, the right 
 of the people must be ackowledged, according to the 
 law of nature, to be superiour to that of princes ; and 
 therefore, by the same right, that before kingship was 
 known, men united their strength and counsels for 
 their mutual safety and defence; by the same right, 
 that for the preservation of all men's liberty, peace, and 
 safety, they appointed one or more to govern the rest; by 
 the same right they may depose those very persons 
 whom for their valour or wisdom they advanced to the 
 government, or any others that rule disorderly, if they 
 find them, by reason of their slotlifulncss, folly, or im- 
 piety, unfit for government: since nature does not re- 
 gard the good of one, or of a few, but of all in general. 
 For what sort of persons were they whom you suppose 
 to have been chosen .'' You say, " they were such as 
 excelled in courage and conduct," to wit, such as by 
 nature seemed fittest for government; who by reason 
 of their excellent w isdom and valour, were enabled to 
 undertake so great a charge. The consequence of this 
 I take to be, that right of succession is not by the law 
 of nature ; that no man by the law of nature has right 
 to be king, unless he excel all others in wisdom and 
 courage ; that all such as reign and want these quali- 
 fications, are advanced to the government by force or 
 faction ; have no right by the law of nature to be what 
 they are, but ought rather to be slaves than princes. 
 For nature appoints that wise men should govern fools, 
 not that wicked men should rule over good men, fools 
 over wise men : and consequently they that take the 
 government out of such men's hands, act according to 
 the law of nature. To what end nature directs wise 
 men should bear the rule, you shall hear in your own 
 words ; viz. " That by force or by pei-suasion, they 
 may keep such as are unruly within due bounds." 
 But how should he keep others within the bounds of 
 their duty, that neglects, or is ignorant of, or wilfully 
 acts contrary to, his own ? Allege now, if you can, 
 any dictate of nature by which we are enjoined to neg- 
 lect the wise institutions of the law of nature, and have 
 no regard to them in civil and public concerns, when 
 we see what great and admirable things nature herself 
 
376 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 efTects in things that are inanimate and void of sense, 
 rather than lose her end. Produce any rule of nature, or 
 natural justice, by which inferiour criminals ought to he 
 punished, but kin^^s and princes to g'o unpunished ; and 
 notonlyso, butthounch guilty of the greatest crimts im- 
 aginable, be had in reverence and almost adored. You 
 agree. That "all forms of government, whether b^' many, 
 or few, or by a single person, are equally agreeable to 
 the law of nature." So that the person of a king is not by 
 the law of nature more sacred than a senate of nobles, or 
 magistrates, chosen from amongst the common people, 
 who you grant may be punished, and ought to be if they 
 offend ; and consequently, kings ought to be so too, who 
 are appointed to rule for the very same end and purpose 
 that other magistrates arc. " For," say you, " nature 
 does not allow any single person to rule so entirely, as 
 not to have partners in the government." It does not 
 therefore allow of a monarch ; it does not allow one 
 single person to rule so, as that all others should be in 
 a slavish subjection to his commands only. You that 
 give princes such partners in the government, " as in 
 whom," to use your own words, " the government 
 always resides," do at the same time make others col- 
 leagues with them, and equal to them ; nay, and con- 
 sequently you settle a power in those colleagues of 
 punishing and of deposing them. So that while you 
 yourself go about, not to extol a kingly government, 
 but to establish it by the law of nature, you destroy it ; 
 no greater misfortune could befall sovereign princes, 
 than to have such an advocate as you are. Poor un- 
 happy wretch ! what blindness of mind has seized you, 
 that you should unwittingly take so much pains to 
 discover your knavery and folly, and make it visible to 
 the world, (which before you concealed in some mea- 
 sure, and disguised,) that you should be so industrious 
 to heap disgrace and ignominy upon j'ourself.-' What 
 offence does Heaven punish you for, in making you 
 appear in public, and undertake the defence of a des- 
 perate cause, with so much impudence and childishness, 
 and instead of defending it, to betray it by your ignor- 
 ance ? What enemy of yours would desire to see you 
 in a more forlorn, despicable condition than you are, 
 who have no refuge left from the depth of misery, but 
 in your own imprudence and want of sense, since by 
 your unskilful and silly defence, you have rendered 
 tyrants the more odious and detestable, by ascribing to 
 them an unbounded liberty of doing mischief with im- 
 punity ; and consequently have created them more 
 enemies than they had before ? But I return to j'our 
 contradictions. When you had resolved with yourself 
 to be so wicked, as to endeavour to find out a founda- 
 tion for tyranny in the law of nature, you saw a neces- 
 sity of extolling monarchy above other sorts of govern- 
 ment ; which you cannot go about to do, without doing 
 as you use to do, that is, contradicting yourself. For 
 having said but a little before, " That all forms of go- 
 Temment, whether by more or fewer, or by a single 
 person, are equally according to the law of nature," 
 now you tell us, " that of all these sorts of government, 
 that of a single person is most natural : " nay, though 
 you had said in express terms but lately, " that the law 
 
 of nature docs not allow, that any government should 
 reside entirely in one man." Now upbraid whom you 
 will with the putting of tyrants to death ; since you 
 yourself, by your own folly, have cut the throats of all 
 monarchs, nay even of monarchy itself. But it is not 
 to the purpose for us here to dispute which form of go- 
 vernment is best, by one single person, or by many. I 
 confess many eminent and famous men have extolled 
 monarchy ; but it has always been upon this supposi- 
 tion, that the prince was a very excellent person, and 
 one that of all others deserved best to reign ; without 
 which supposition, no form of government can be so 
 prone to tyranny as monarchy is. And whereas you 
 resemble a monarchy to the government of the world 
 by one Divine Being, I pray answer me, whether you 
 think that any other can deserve to be invested with a 
 power here on earth, that shall resemble his power that 
 governs the world, except such a person as does infi- 
 nitely excel all other men, and both for wisdom and 
 goodness in some measure resemble the Deity ? and 
 such a person, in my opinion, none can be but the Son 
 of God himself — And whereas you make a kingdom 
 to be a kind of family, and make a comparison betwixt 
 a prince and the master of a family ; observe how lame 
 the parallel is. For a master of a family begot part 
 of his household, at least he feeds all those that are of 
 his house, and upon that account deserves to have the 
 government; but the reason holds not in the case of 
 a prince ; nay, it is quite contrary. In the next 
 place, you propose to us for our imitation the example 
 of inferiour creatures, especially of birds, and amongst 
 them of bees, which according to your skill in na- 
 tural philosophy, are a sort of birds too ; " The bees 
 have a king over them." The bees of Trent you 
 mean ; do not you remember ? all other bees you 
 yourself confess to be commonwealths. But leave 
 off playing the fool with bees; they belong to the 
 Muses, and hate, and (you see) confute, such a beetle 
 as you are. " The quails are under a captain." Lay 
 such snares for your own bitterns ; you are not fowler 
 good enough to catch us. Now you begin to be per- 
 sonally concerned. Gallus Gallinaceus, a cock, say 
 you, " has both cocks and hens under him." How can 
 that be, since you yourself that are Gallus, and but too 
 much Gallinaceus, by report cannot govern your own 
 single hen, but let her govern you ? So that if a Gal- 
 linaceus be a king over many hens, you that are a slave 
 to one, must own yourself not to be so good as a Gal- 
 linaceus, but some Stercorarius Gallus, some dunghill- 
 cock or other. For matter of books, there is no body 
 publishes huger dunghills than you, and you disturb 
 all people with your shitten cock-crow ; that is the 
 only property in which you resemble a true cock. I 
 will throw you a great many barley-corns, if in ran- 
 sacking this dung-hill book of yours, you can shew ni 
 but one jewel. But why should I promise you barley, 
 that never pecked at corn, as that honest plain cock 
 that we read of in JE^o]), but at gold, as that roguey 
 cock in Plautus, though with a different event ; for 
 you found a hundred Jacobusscs, and he was struck 
 dead with Euclio's club, which you deserve more than 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 377 
 
 he did. But let us go ou : " That same natural reason 
 that designs the good and safety of all mankind, re- 
 quires, that whoever be once promoted to the sovereign- 
 ty, be preserved in the possession of it." Whoever 
 questioned tins, as long as his preservation is consistent 
 with the safety of all the rest.^ But is it not obvious to 
 all men, that nothing can be more contrary to natural 
 reason, than that any one man should be preserved and 
 defended, to the utter ruin and destruction of all others .'* 
 But yet (you say) " it is better to keep and defend a 
 bad prince, nay one of the worst that ever was, than to 
 change him for another ; because his ill government 
 cannot do the commonwealth so much harm as the 
 disturbances will occasion, which must of necessity be 
 raised before the people can get rid of him." But what 
 is tliis to the right of kings by the law of nature .'* If 
 nature teaches me rather to suffer myself to be robbed 
 by highwaymen, or if I should be taken captive by 
 such, to purchase my liberty with all my estate, than 
 to fight with them for my life, can you infer from thence, 
 that they have a natural right to rob and spoil me .'' 
 Nature teaches men to give way sometimes to the vio- 
 lence and outrages of tyrants, the necessity of affairs 
 sometimes enforces a toleration with their enormities ; 
 what foundation can you find in this forced patience 
 of a nation, in this compulsory submission, to build a 
 right upon, for princes to tyrannize by the law of nature? 
 'J'hat right which nature has given the people for their 
 own preservation, can you affirm that she has invested 
 tyrants with for the people's ruin and destruction ? 
 Nature teaches us, of two evils to choose the least ; 
 and to bear with oppression, as long as there is a ne- 
 cessity of so doing; and will you infer from hence, 
 that tyrants have some right by the law of nature to 
 oppress their subjects, and go unpunished, because, as 
 circumstances may fall out, it may sometimes be a less 
 mischief to bear with them than to remove them ? 
 Remember what yourself once wrote concerning 
 bishops against a Jesuit ; you were then of another 
 opinion than you are now : I have quoted your words 
 formerly ; you there affirm " that seditious civil dissen- 
 sions and discords of the nobles and common people 
 against and amongst one another are much more tole- 
 rable, and less mischievous, than certain misery and 
 destruction under the government of a single person, 
 that plays the tyrant." And you said very true. For 
 you had not then run mad ; you had not then been 
 bribed with Charles his Jacobusses. You had not got 
 the Kings'-evil. I should tell you perhaps, if I did not 
 know you, that you might be ashamed thus to prevari- 
 cate. But you can sooner burst than blush, who have 
 cast off all shame for a little profit. Did you not re- 
 member, that the commonwealth of the people of Rome 
 flourished and became glorious when they had banished 
 their kings ? Could you possibly forget that of the Low 
 Countries ? which, after it had shook off the yoke of 
 the king of Spain, after long and tedious wars, but 
 crowned with success, obtained its liberty, and feeds 
 such a pitiful grammarian as yourself with a pension : 
 but not with a design that their youth might be so in- 
 fatuated by your sophistry, as to choose rather to return 
 
 to their former slavery, than to inherit the glorious 
 liberty which their ancestors purchased for them. May 
 those pernicious principles of yours be banished with 
 yourself into the most remote and barbarous corners of 
 the world. And last of all, the commonwealth of Eng- 
 land might have afforded you an example, in which 
 Charles, who had beeji their king, after he had been 
 taken captive in war, and was found incurable, was 
 put to death. But " they have defaced and impover- 
 ished the island with civil broils and discords, which 
 under its kings was happy, and swam in luxury." 
 Yea, when it was almost buried in luxury and volup- 
 tuousness, and the more inured thereto, that it might 
 be enthralled the more easily ; when its laws were 
 abolished, and its religion agreed to be sold, they de- 
 livered it from slavery. You are like him that pub- 
 lished Simplicius and Epictetus in the same volume ; 
 a very grave stoic, " who call an island happy, because 
 it swims in luxury." I am sure no such doctrine ever 
 came out of Zeno's school. But why should not you, 
 who would give kings a power of doing what they list, 
 have liberty yourself to broach what new philosophy 
 you please .■* Now begin again to act your part, " There 
 never was in any king's reign so much blood spilt, so 
 many families ruined." All this is to be imputed to 
 Charles, not to us, who first raised an army of Irishmen 
 against us; who by his own warrant authorized the Irish 
 nation to conspire against the English ; who by their 
 meansslewtwohundred thousand ofhis English subjects 
 in the province of Ulster, besides what numbers were slain 
 in other parts of that kingdom ; who solicited two armies 
 towards the destruction of the parliament of England, 
 and the city of London ; and did many other actions 
 of hostility before the parliament and people had listed 
 one soldier for the preservation and defence of the go- 
 vernment. What principles, what law, what religion 
 ever taught men rather to consult their ease, to save 
 their money, their blood, nay their lives themselves, 
 than to oppose an enemy with force."* for I make no 
 difference between a foreign enemy and another, since 
 both arc equally dangerous and destructive to the good 
 of the whole nation. The people of Israel saw very 
 well, that they could not possibly punish the Benja- 
 mites for murdering the Levite's wife, without the loss 
 of many men's lives : and did that induce them to sit 
 still ? Was that accounted a sufficient argument why 
 they should abstain from war, from a very bloody civil 
 war? Did they therefore suffer the death of one poor 
 woman to be unrevenged ? Certainly if nature teaches 
 us rather to endure the government of a king, though 
 he be never so bad, than to endanger the lives of a 
 great many men in the recovery of our liberty; it must 
 teach us likewise not only to endure a kingly govern- 
 ment, which is the only one that you argue ought to 
 be submitted to, but even an aristocracy and a de- 
 mocracy : nay, and sometimes it will persuade us, to 
 submit to a multitude of highwaymen, and to slaves 
 that mutiny. Fulvius and Rupilius, if your principles 
 had been received in their days, must not have en- 
 gaged in the servile war (as their writers call it) after 
 the Praetorian armies were slain : Crassus must not 
 
378 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 hare marched against Spartacus, after the rebels had 
 destroyed one Ronian army, and spoiled their tents : 
 ijor must Ponipey have undertaken the Piratic war. 
 But the state of Rome must have pursued tiic dictates 
 of nature, and must have submitted to their own slaves, 
 or to the pirates, rather than run the hazard of losing 
 some men's lives. You do not prove at all, that nature 
 has imprinted anj such notion as this of yours on the 
 minds of men : and yet you cannot forbear boding us 
 ill luck, and denouncing the wrath of God against us, 
 (which may Heaven divert, and inflict it upon yourself, 
 and all such prognosticators as you,) who have punish- 
 ed, as he deserved, one that had the name of our king, 
 but was in fact our implacable enemy ; and we have 
 made atonement for tl)e death of so many of our coun- 
 trymen, as our civil wars have occasioned, by shedding 
 bis blood, that was the author and cause of them. 
 Then you tell us, that a kingly government appears to 
 be more according to the laws of nature, because more 
 nations, both in our days, and of old, have submitted 
 to that form of government than ever did to any other." 
 I answer, if that be so, it was neither the effect of any 
 dictate of the law of nature, nor was it in obedience to 
 any command from God. God would not suffer his 
 own people to be under a king ; he consented at last, 
 but unwillingly; what nature and right reason dic- 
 tates, we are not to gather from the practice of most 
 nations, but of the wisest and most prudent. The 
 Grecians, the Romans, the Italians, and Carthaginians, 
 with many other, have of their own accord, out of 
 choice, preferred a commonwealth to a kingly govern- 
 ment; and these nations that I have named, are better 
 instances than all the rest. Hence Sulpitius Severus 
 says, " That the very name of a king was always very 
 odious among a free-born people." But these things 
 concern not our present purpose, nor many other im- 
 pertinences that follow over and over again. I will 
 make haste to prove that by examples, which I have 
 proved already by reason ; viz. that it is very agreeable 
 to the law of nature, that tyrants should be punished ; 
 and that all nations, by the instinct of nature, have 
 punished them ; which will expose your impudence, 
 and make it evident, that you take a liberty to publish 
 palpable downright lies. You begin with the Egyp- 
 tians ; and indeed, who does not see, that you play the 
 gipsy yourself throughout? "Amongst them," say 
 you, " there is no mention extant of any king, that was 
 ever slain by the people in a popular insurrection, no 
 war made upon any of their kings by their subjects, 
 no attempt made to depose any of them." What think 
 you then of Osiris, who perhaps was the first king that 
 the Egyptians ever had ? Was not he slain by his 
 brother Typhon, and five and twenty other con- 
 spirators .'' And did not a great part of the body of the 
 people side with them, and figljt a battle with Isis and 
 Orus, the late king's wife and son ? I pass by Sesostris, 
 whom his brother had well nigh put to death, and 
 Chcmmis and Cephrenes, against whom the people 
 were deservedly enraged ; and because they could not 
 do it while they were alive, they threatened to tear 
 them in pieces after they were dead. Do you think 
 
 that a people that durst lay violent bands upon good 
 kings, had any restraint upon them, either by the light 
 of nature or religion, from putting had ones to death .•* 
 Could they that threatened to pull the dead bodies of 
 their princes out of their graves, when they ceased to 
 do mischief, (though by the custom of Uieir own coun- 
 try the corpse of the meanest person was sacred and 
 inviolable,) abstain from inflicting punishment upon 
 them in their lifetime, when they were acting all their 
 villanies, if they had been able, and that upon some 
 maxim of the law of nature .'' I know you would not 
 stick to answer me in the affirmative, how absurd soever 
 it be ; but that you may not offer at it, I will pull out 
 your tongue. Knowthm, that some ages before Cephre- 
 ncs's time, one Ammosis was king of Egypt, and was 
 as great a tyrant, as who has been the greatest ; him 
 the people bore with. This you are glad to hear; this 
 is what you would be at. But hear what follows, my 
 honest Telltruth. I shall speak out of Diodorus, 
 " They bore with him for some while, because he was 
 too strong for them." But when Actisanes king of 
 Ethiopia made war upon him, they took that opportu- 
 nity to revolt, so that being deserted, he was easily 
 subdued, and Egypt became an accession to the king- 
 dom of Ethiopia. You see the Egyptians, so soon as^ 
 they could, took up arms against a tyrant; they joine<J 
 forces with a foreign prince, to depose their own king^ 
 and disinherit his posterity; they chose to live under i 
 moderate and good prince, as Actisanes was, though a* 
 foreigner, rather than under a tyrant of their own. 
 The same people with a very unanimous consent took 
 up arms against Apries, another tyrant, who relied 
 upon foreign aids that he had hired to assist him. 
 Under the conduct of Amasis their general they con- 
 quered, and afterwards strangled him, and placed 
 Amasis in the throne. And observe this circumstance 
 in the history; Amasis kept the captive king a good 
 while in the palace, and treated him well : at last, 
 when the people complained that he nourished his own 
 and their enemy ; he delivered him into their hands, 
 who put him to death in the manner I have mentioned. 
 These things are related by Herodotus and Diodorus. 
 Where are you now? do you think that any tyrant 
 would not choose a hatchet rather than a halter? "After- 
 wards," say you, " when the Egyptians were brought 
 into subjection by the Persians, they continued faithful 
 to them ;" which is most false ; they never were faith- 
 ful to them : for in the fourth year after Cambyses had 
 subdued them, they rebelled. Afterwards, when Xerxes 
 had tamed them, within a short time they revolted 
 from his son Artaxerxes, and set up one Tnarus to be 
 their king. After his death they rebelled again, and 
 created one Tachus king, and made war upon Ar- 
 taxerxes Mnemon. Neither were they better subjects 
 to their own princes, for they deposed Tachus, and 
 conferred the government upon his son Nectanebus, till 
 at last Artaxerxes Ochus brought them the second 
 time under subjection to the Persian empire. \\'hen 
 they were under the Macedonian empire, they declared 
 by their actions, that tyrants ought to be under some 
 restraint : they threw down the statues and images of 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 379 
 
 Ptolema!iis PIijsco, and would have killed bini, but 
 that the mercenary antij, that he commanded, was too 
 strong for them. His son Alexander was forced to 
 leave his country by the mere violence of the people, 
 who were incensed against him for killing his mother : 
 and the people of Alexandria dragged his son Alexan- 
 der out of the palace, whose insolent behaviour gave 
 just offence, and killed him in the theatre: and the 
 same people deposed Ptolemteus Auletes for his many 
 crimes. Now since it is impossible, that any learned 
 man should be ignorant of these things that are so 
 generally known ; and since it is an inexcusable fault 
 in Salmasius to be ignorant of them, whose profession 
 it is to teach them others, and whose very asserting 
 things of this nature ought to carry in itself an argu- 
 ment of credibility ; it is certainly a very scandalous 
 thing (I say) eitlier that so ignorant, illiterate a block- 
 head, should, to the scandal of all learning, profess 
 himself, and be accounted a learned man, and obtain 
 salaries from princes and states ; or that so impudent 
 and notorious a liar should not be branded with some 
 particular mark of infamy, and for ever banished from 
 the society of learned and honest men. Having 
 searched among the Egyptians for examples, let us 
 now consider the Ethiopians their neighbours. They 
 adore tlieir kings, whom they suppose God to have ap- 
 pointed over them, even as if they were a sort of gods: 
 and yet whenever the priests condemn any of them, 
 they kill themselves : and on that manner, says Diodo- 
 rus, they punish all their criminals; they put them 
 not to death, but send a minister of justice to command 
 them to destroy their own persons. In the next place, 
 you mention the Assyrians, the Medes, and the Per- 
 sians, who of all others were most observant of their 
 princes : and you affirm, contrary to all historians that 
 have wrote any thing concerning those nations, that 
 " the regal power there had an unbounded liberty an- 
 nexed to it, of doing what the king listed." In the 
 first place, the prophet Daniel tells us, how the Baby- 
 lonians expelled Nebuchadnezzar out of human society, 
 and made him graze with the beasts, when his pride 
 grew to be insufferable. The laws of those countries 
 were not entitled the laws of their kings, but the laws 
 of the Medes and Persians ; which laws were irrevoca- 
 ble, and the kings themselves were bound by them : 
 insomuch that Darius the Medc, though he earnestly 
 desired to have delivered Daniel from the hands of the 
 princes, yet could not effect it. " Those nations, " say 
 you, " thought it no sufficient pretence to reject a prince, 
 because he abused the right that was inherent in him 
 as he was sovereign." But in the very writing of these 
 words you are so stupid, as that with the same breath 
 that you commend the obedience and submissiveness 
 of those nations, of your own accord you make mention 
 of Sardanapalus's being dt^prived of his crown by Ar- 
 baces. Neither was it he alone that accomplished that 
 enterprize; for he had the assistance of the priests 
 (who of all othere were best versed in the law) and of 
 the people; and it was wholly upon this account that 
 he deposed him, because he abused his authority and 
 power, not by giving himself over to cruelty, but to J 
 
 luxury and effeminacy. Run over the histories of He- 
 rodotus Ctesias, Diodorus, and you will find things 
 quite contrary to what you assert here; you will find 
 that those kingdoms were destroyed for the most part 
 by subjects, and not by foreigners ; that the Assyrians 
 were brought down by the Medes, who then were their 
 subjects, and the Medes by the Persians, who at that 
 time were likewise subject to them. You yourself 
 confess, that " Cyrus rebelled, and that at the same 
 time in divers parts of the empire little upstart govern- 
 ments were formed by those that shook off the Medes." 
 But does this agree with what you said before? Does 
 this prove the obedience of the Medes and Persians 
 to their princes, and that Jus Regium which you had 
 asserted to have been universally received amongst 
 those nations.'* What potion can cure this brainsick 
 frenzy of yours ? You say, " it appears by Herodo- 
 tus how absolute the Persian kings were." Cambyses 
 being desirous to marry his sisters, consulted with the 
 judges, who were the interpreters of the laws, to 
 whose decision all difficult matters were to be refer- 
 red. What answer had he from them ? They told 
 him, they knew no law which permitted a brother to 
 marry his sister; but another law they knew, that the 
 kings of Persia might do what they listed. Now to 
 this I answer, if the kings of Persia were really so ab- 
 solute, what need was there of any other to interpret 
 the laws, besides the king himself.'* Those superfluous 
 unnecessary judges would have had their abode and 
 residence in any other place rather than in the palace, 
 where they were altogether useless. Again, if those 
 kings might do whatever they would, it is not credi- 
 ble, that so ambitious a prince as Cambyses, should be 
 so ignorant of that grand prerogative, as to consult 
 with the judges, whether what he desired were accord- 
 ing to law. What was the matter then .'* either they 
 designed to humour the king, as you say they did, or 
 they were afraid to cross his inclination, which is the 
 account that Herodotus gives of it; and so told him of 
 such a law, as they knew would please him, and in 
 plain terms made a fool of him, which is no new thing 
 with judges and lawyers now-a-days. '♦ But," say you, 
 " Artabanus a Persian told Themistocles, that there was 
 no better law in Persia, than that by which it was 
 enacted, that kings were to be honoured and adored." 
 An excellent law that was without doubt, which com- 
 manded subjects to adore tiieir princes ! but the primi- 
 tive fathers have long ago damned it; and Artabanus 
 was a proper person to recommend such a law, who 
 was the very man that a little while after slew Xerxes 
 with his own hand. You quote regicides to assert 
 royalty. I am afraid you have some design upon 
 kings. In the next place, j'ou quote the poet Claudian, 
 to prove how obedient the Persians were. But I ap- 
 peal to their histories and annals, which are full of the 
 revolts of the Persians, the Medes, the Bactrians, and 
 Babylonians, and give us frequent instances of the 
 murders of their princes. The next person whose au- 
 thority you cite, is Otanes the Persian, who likewise 
 killed Smerdis then king of Persia, to whom, out of the 
 hatred which he bore to a kingly government, he 
 
380 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 reckons up the impieties and injurious actions of Icings, 
 tbeir violation of all laws, their putting men tu death 
 without any legal com it-tion, their rapes and adulte- 
 ries ; and all this voii will have called the right of 
 ki.igs, and slander Samuel again as a teacher of such 
 doctrines. You quote Homer, who says that kings de- 
 rive their autiiority from Jupiter; to which I have 
 already given an answer. For King Philip of Mace- 
 don, whose asserting the right of kings you make use 
 of; I will believe that Charles his description of it, as 
 soon as his. Then you quote some sentences out of a 
 fragment of Diogenes a Pythagorean ; but you do not 
 tell us what sort of a king he speaks of Observe 
 therefore how he begins that discourse ; for whatever 
 follows must be understood to have relation to it. 
 " Let him be king," says he, " that of all others is 
 most just, and so he is that acts most according to law ; 
 for no man can be king that is not just; and without 
 laws there can be no justice." This is directly opposite 
 to that regal right of yours. And Ecphantas, whom you 
 likewise quote, is of the same opinion : " Whosoever 
 takes upon him to be a king, ought to be naturally 
 most pure and clear from all imputation." And a little 
 after, " Him," says he, " we call a king, that governs 
 well, and he only is properly so." So that such a king 
 as you speak of, accord ing to the philosophy of the 
 Pythagoreans, is no king at all. Hear now what Plato 
 says in his Eighth Epistle : " Let kings," says he, " be 
 liable to be called to account for what they do : Let the 
 laws control not only the people but kings themselves, 
 if they do any thing not warranted by law." I will 
 mention what Aristotle says in the Third Book of his 
 Politics; " It is neither for the public good, nor is it 
 just," says he, " seeing all men are by nature alike 
 and equal, that any one should be lord and master over 
 all the rest, where there are no laws ; nor is it for the 
 public good, or just, that one man should be a law to 
 the rest, where there are laws ; nor that any one, though 
 a good man, should be loi-d over other good men, nor 
 a bad man, over bad men." And in the Fifth Book, 
 says he, " That king whom the people refuse to be 
 governed by, is no longer a king, but a tyrant." Hear 
 what Xenophon says in Hiero : " People are so far 
 from revenging the deaths of tyrants, that they confer 
 great honour upon him that kills one, and erect statues 
 in their temples to the honour of tyrannicides." Of 
 this I can produce an eye-witness, Marcus Tullius, in 
 his oration pro Milone ; " The Grecians," says he, 
 " ascribe divine worship to such as kill tyrants: what 
 things of this nature have I myself seen at Athens, 
 and in the other cities of Greece ! how many religious 
 observances have been instituted in honour of such 
 men! how many hymns! They are consecrated to im- 
 mortality and adoration, and their memory endea- 
 voured to be perpetuated." And lastly, Polybius, an 
 historian of great authority and gravity, in the Sixth 
 Book of his History, says thus : " When princes began 
 to indulge their own lusts and sensual appetites, then 
 kingdoms were turned into so many tyrannies, and the 
 subjects began to conspire the death of their governors ; 
 neither was it the profligate sort that were the authors 
 
 of those designs, but the most generous and magnani- 
 mous." I could quote many such like passages, but 1 
 shall instance in no more. From the philosophers you 
 appeal to the poets; and I am very willing to follow 
 you thither, .ftlschylus is enough to inform us, that 
 the power of the kings of Greece was such, as not to 
 be liable to the censure of any laws, or to be ques- 
 tioned before any human judicature; for he in that 
 tragedy that is called, The Suppliants, calls the king 
 of the Argives, " a governor not obnoxious to the j ''la- 
 ment of any tribunal." But you must know, (for t. 
 more you say, the more you discover your rashness 
 and want of judgment,) you must know, I say, that 
 one is not to regard what the poet says, but what per- 
 son in the play speaks, and what that person says ; for 
 different persons are introduced, sometimes good, some- 
 times bad ; sometimes wise men, sometimes fools ; and 
 such words are put into their mouths, as it is most 
 proper for them to speak ; not such as the poet would 
 speak, if he were to speak in his own person. The 
 fifty daughters of Danaus, being banished out of 
 Egypt, became suppliants to the king of the Argives ; 
 they begged of him, that he would protect them from 
 the Egyptians, who pursued them with a fleet of ships. 
 The king told them he could not undertake their pro- 
 tection, till he had imparted the matter to the people ; 
 " For," says he, " if I should make a promise to you, I 
 should not be able to perform it, unless I consult with 
 them first." The women being strangers and sup- 
 pliants, and fearing the uncertain suff"rages of the people, 
 tell him, " That the power of all the people resides in 
 him alone ; that he judges all others, but is not judged 
 himself by any." He answers: " I have told you al- 
 ready. That I cannot do this thing that you desire of 
 me, without the people's consent ; nay, and though I 
 could, I would not." At last be refers the matter to 
 the people ; " I will assemble the people," says he, 
 " and persuade them to protect you." The people met, 
 and resolved to engage in tbeir quarrel; insomuch that 
 Danaus their father bids his daughters " be of good 
 cheer, for the people of the country, in a popular con- 
 vention, had voted their safeguard and defence." If I 
 had not related the whole thing, how rashly would this 
 impertinent Ignoramus have determined concerning 
 the right of kings among the Grecians, out of the 
 mouths of a few women that were strangers and sup- 
 pliants, though the king himself, and tlie history, be 
 quite contrary ! The same thing appears by the story 
 of Orestes in Euripides, who after his father's death 
 was himself king of the Argives, and yet was called in 
 question by the people for the death of his mother, and 
 made to plead for his life, and by tlie major sufl'rage 
 was condemned to die. The same poet, in his play 
 called " The Suppliants," declares. That at Atliens the 
 kingly power was subject to the laws ; where Theseus 
 then king of that city is made to say these words : "This 
 is a free city, it is not governed by one man ; the 
 people reigns here." And his son Demophoon, wli<> 
 was king after him, in another tragedy of the sam 
 poet, called Heraclidte; "I do not exercise a tyran- 
 nical power over them, as if they were Barbarians: 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 381 
 
 I am upon other terms with them ; but if I do them 
 justice, they will do me the like." Sophocles in his 
 CEdipus shews, That anciently iu Thebes the kings 
 were not absolute neither: hence says Tircsias to 
 Oedipus, " I am not your slave." And Creon to the 
 same king, " I have some right in this city," says he, 
 " as well as you." And in another tragedy of the same 
 poet, called Antigone, iEmou tells the king, " That the 
 city of Thebes is not governed by a single person." 
 All men know, that the kings of Lacedoemon have been 
 arraigned, and sometimes put to death judicially. 
 These instances are sufficient to evince what power the 
 kings in Greece had. Let us consider now the Ro- 
 mans : You betake yourself to that passage of C. Mem- 
 mius in Sallust, of kings having a liberty to do what 
 they list, and go unpunished ; to which I have given 
 an answer already. Sallust himself says in express 
 words, " That the ancient government of Rome was 
 by their laws, though the name and form of it was 
 regal : which form of government, when it grew into a 
 tyranny, you know they put down and changed." 
 Cicero, in his oration against Piso, " Shall I," says he, 
 " account him a consul, who would not allow the senate 
 to have any authority in tiie commonwealth .'' Shall I 
 take notice of any man as consul, if at the same time 
 there be no such thing as a senate ; when of old the 
 city of Rome acknowledged not their kings, if they 
 acted without or in opposition to the senate .'*" Do you 
 hear; the very kings themselves at Rome signified 
 nothing without the senate. "But," say you, " Ro- 
 mulus governed as he listed ;" and for that you quote 
 Tacitus. No wonder : the government was not then 
 established by law ; they were a confused multitude of 
 strangers, more likely than a regulated state ; and all 
 mankind lived without laws, before governments were 
 settled. But when Romulus was dead, though all the 
 people were desirous of a king, not having yet expe- 
 rienced the sweetness of liberty, yet, as Livy informs 
 us, " The sovereign power resided in the people ; so 
 that they parted not with more right than they retain- 
 ed." The same author tells us, " That the same power 
 was afterwards extorted from them by their emperors." 
 Servius TuUius at first reigned by fraud, and as it were 
 a deputy to Tarquinins Priscus; but afterward he re- 
 ferred it to the people, Whether they would have him 
 reign or no.'' At last, says Tacitus, he became the au- 
 thor of such laws as the kings were obliged to obey. 
 Do you think he would have done such an injury to 
 himself and his posterity, if he had been of opinion, 
 that the right of kings had been above all laws ? Their 
 last king, Tarquinius Supcrbus, was the first that put 
 an end to that custom of consulting the senate concern- 
 ing all public affairs : for which very thing, and other 
 enormities of his, the people deposed him, and banisiied 
 him and his family. These things I have out of Livy 
 and Cicero, than uhom jou will hardly produce any 
 better expositors of the right of kings among the Ro- 
 mans. As for the dictatorship, that was but temporary, 
 and was never made use of, but in great extremities, 
 and was not to continue longer than six months. But 
 that which you call the right of the Roman emperors, 
 
 was no right, but a plain downright force ; and was 
 gained by war only. " But Tacitus," say j-ou, " that 
 lived under the government of a single person, writes 
 thus ; the gods have committed the sovereign power in 
 human affairs to princes only, and have left to subjects 
 the honour of being obedient." But you tell us not 
 where Tacitus has these words, for you were conscious 
 to yourself, that you imposed upon your readers in 
 quoting them ; which I presently smelt out, though I 
 could not find the place of a sudden : for that expres- 
 sion is not Tacitus's own, who is an approved writer, 
 and of all others the greatest enemy to tyrants; but 
 Tacitus relates that of M. Terentius, a gentleman of 
 Rome, being accused for a capital crime, amongst other 
 things that he said to save his life, flattered Tiberius 
 on this manner. It is in the Sixth Book of his Annals. 
 " The gods have entrusted you with the ultimate judg- 
 ment in all things ; they have left us the honour of 
 obedience." And you cite this passage as if Tacitus 
 had said it himself; you scrape together whatever 
 seems to make for your opinion, either out of ostenta- 
 tion, or out of weakness ; you would leave out nothing 
 that you could find in a baker's or a barber's shop ; nay, 
 you would be glad of any thing that looked like an ar- 
 gument, from the very hangman. If you had read Ta- 
 citus himself, and not transcribed some loose quotations 
 out of him by other authors, he would have taught you 
 whence that imperial right had its original. " After the 
 conquest of Asia," says he, " the whole state of our affairs 
 was turned upside down ; nothing of the ancient integrity 
 of our forefathers was left amongst us ; all men shook 
 off that former equality which had been observed, and 
 began to have reverence for the mandates of princes." 
 This you might have learned out of the Third Book of 
 his Annals, whence you have all your regal right. 
 " When that ancient equality was laid aside, and in- 
 stead thereof ambition and violence took place, tyran- 
 nical forms of government started up, and fixed them- 
 selves in many countries." The same thing you 
 might have learned out of Dio, if your natural levity 
 and unsettledness of judgment would have suffered 
 you to apprehend any thing that is solid. He tells us 
 in the Fifty-third Book of his History, out of wiiich 
 book you have made some quotation already. That Oc- 
 tavius Ctesar, partly by force, and partly by fraud, 
 brought things to that pass, that the emperors of Rome 
 became no longer fettered by laws. For he, though he 
 promised to the people in public that he would lay 
 down the government, and obey the laws, and become 
 subject toothers; yet under pretence of making war 
 in several provinces of the empire, still retained the 
 legions, and so by degi-ees invaded the government, 
 which he pretended he would refuse. This was not re- 
 gularly getting from under the law, but breaking for- 
 cibly through all laws, as Spartacus the gladiator might 
 have done, and then assuming to himself the style of 
 prince or emperor, as if God or the law of nature had 
 put all men and all laws into subjection under him. 
 Would you inquire a little further into the original of 
 the right of the Roman emperors ? Marcus Antonius, 
 whom Ctesar (when by taking up arms against the 
 
382 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 common wealth he had got all the power into his 
 hands) had made consul, when a solemnity called the 
 Lupercalia was celt-hrated at Rome, as had hccn con- 
 trived heforehand.that he should seta crown upon C'tp- 
 sar's head, though the people sighed and lamented at 
 the sight, caused it to be entered upon record, that 
 Marcus Antonius, at the Lupercalia, made Coesar king 
 at the instance of the people. Of which action Cicero 
 in his second Phili])pic says, " was Lucius Tarquinius 
 therefore expelled, Spurius Cassius, Sp. Melius, and 
 Marcus Manilius put to death, that after many ages 
 Marcus Antonius should make a king in Rome, con- 
 trary to law?" But you deserve to be tortured, and 
 loaded with everlasting disgrace, much more than 
 Mark Antony ; though I would not have you ])roud 
 because he and yourself are put together; for I do not 
 think so despicable a wretch as you fit to be compared 
 with him in any thing but his impiety ; you that in 
 those horrible Lupercalia of yours set not a crown upon 
 one tyrant's head, but upon all, and such a crown as 
 you would have limited by no laws, nor liable to any. 
 Indeed if we must believe the oracles of the emperors 
 themselves, (for so some christian emperors, as Theodo- 
 sius and Valens, have called their edicts. Cod. lib. L 
 tit. 14.) the authority of the emperors depends upon 
 that of the law. So that the majesty of the pei-son 
 that reigns, even by thejudgment, or call it the oracle, 
 of the emperors themselves, must submit to the laws, 
 on whose authority it depends. Hence Pliny tells 
 Trajan in his Panegyric, when the power of the empe- 
 rors was grown to its height, " A principality and an 
 absolute sovereignty are quite different things. Tra- 
 jan puts down whatever looks like a kingdom ; he 
 rules like a prince, that there may be no room for a 
 magisterial power." And afterwards, " whatever I 
 have said of other princes, I said that I might shew 
 how our prince reforms and corrects the manners of 
 princes, which by long custom have been corrupted 
 and depraved." Are you not ashamed to call that the 
 right of kings, that Pliny calls the corrupt and de- 
 praved customs of princes .•' But let this suffice to 
 have been said in short of the right of kings, as it was 
 taken at Rome. How they dealt with their tyrants, 
 whether kings or emperors, is generally known. They 
 expelled Tarquin. "But," say you, "how did they 
 expel him .' Did they proceed against him judicially ? 
 No such matter: when he would have come into the 
 city, they shut the gates against him." Ridiculous 
 fool ; what could they do but shut the gates, when he 
 was hastening to them w ith part of the army ? And 
 what great difference will there be, whether the}' ba- 
 nished him or put him to death, so they punished him 
 one way or other.'' The best men of that age killed 
 Csesarthe tyrant in the very senate. Which action of 
 theirs, Marcus Tullius, who was himself a very excel- 
 lent man, and publicly called the father of his coun- 
 try, both elsewhere, and particularly in his second 
 Philippic, extols wonderfully. I will repeat some of 
 his words: "All good men killed Coesar as far as 
 in them lay. Some men could not advise in it, others 
 wanted courage to act in it, others an opportunity, all 
 
 had a good will to it." And afterwards, "what 
 greater and more glorious action (ye holy gods!) ever 
 was |)crformed, not in this city only, hut in any 
 other country ? what action more worthy to be n-- 
 commended to everlasting memory ? I am not un- 
 willing to be included within the number of thosp 
 that advised it, as within the Trojan horse." Tin 
 passage of Seneca may relate both to the Romans 
 and the Grecians: "there cannot be a greater nor 
 more acceptable sacrifice offered up to Jupiter, than a 
 wicked prince." For if you consider Hercules, whose 
 words these are, they shew what the opinion was of 
 the principal men amongst the Grecians in that age. 
 If the poet, who flourished under Nero, (and the most 
 worthy persons in plays generally express the poet's 
 own sense,) then this passage shews us what Seneca 
 himself, and all good men, even in Nero's time, thought 
 was fit to bo done to a tyrant ; and how virtuous an 
 action, how acceptable to God, they thought it to kill 
 one. So every good man of Rome, as far as in him 
 lay, killed Domitian. Pliny the second owns it openly 
 in his Panegyric to Trajan the emperor," we took j)lea- 
 sure in dashing those proud looks against the ground, 
 in piercing him with our swords, in mangling him with 
 axes, as if he had bled and felt pain at every stroke : 
 no man could so command his passion of joy, but 
 that he counted it a piece of revenge to behold his 
 mangled limbs, his members torn asunder, and after 
 all, his stern and horrid statues thrown down and 
 burnt." And afterwards, " they cannot love good 
 princes enough, that cannot hate bad ones as they de- 
 serve." Then amongst other enormities of Domitian, 
 he reckons this for one, that he put to death Epaphro- 
 ditus, that had killed Nero: " Had we forgotten the 
 avenging Nero's death ? Was it likely that he would 
 suffer his life and actions to be ill spoken of, whose 
 death he revenged .'"' He seems to have thought it 
 almost a crime not to kill Nero, that counts it so great 
 a one to punish him that did it. By what has been 
 said, it is evident, that the best of the Romans did not 
 only kill tyrants, as oft as they could, and howsoever 
 •they could ; but that they thought it a commendable 
 and a praiseworthy action so to do, as the Grecians had 
 done before them. For when they could not proceed 
 judicially against a tyrant in his lifetime, being in- 
 feriour to him in strength and power, yet after his 
 death they did it, and cojidemned him by the Valerian 
 law. For Valerius Publicola, Junius Brutus his col- 
 league, when he saw that tyrants, being guarded with 
 soldiers, could not be brought to a legal trial, he de- 
 vised a law to make it lawful to kill them any way, 
 though uncondemned; and that they that did it, should 
 afterwards give an account of their so doing. Hence, 
 when Cassius had actually run Caligula through with 
 a sword, though every body else had done it in their 
 hearts, Valerius Asiaticus, one that had been consul, 
 being present at that time, cried out to the soldiers, 
 that began to mutiny because of his death, " I wish I 
 myself had killed him." And the senate at the same 
 time was so far from being displeased with Cassius for 
 what he had done, that they resolved to extirpate the 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 383 
 
 memory of the emperors, and to raze the temples that 
 had been erected in honour of them. When Claudius 
 vas presently saluted emperor by the soldiers, they 
 forbad him by the tribune of the people to take the 
 government upon him ; but the power of the soldiers 
 prevailed. The senate declared Nero an enemy, and 
 made iuquiry after him, to have punished him accord- 
 ing to the law of their ancestors; which required, that 
 he should be stripped naked, and hung by the neck 
 upon a forked stake, and whipped to death. Consider 
 now, how much more mildly and moderately the Eng- 
 lish dealt with their tyrant, though many are of opinion, 
 that he caused the spilling of more blood than ever 
 Nero himself did. So the senate condemned Domitian 
 after his death ; they commanded his statues to be 
 pulled down and dashed in pieces, which was all they 
 could do. When Commodus was slain by his own 
 officers, neither the senate nor the people punished the 
 fact, but declared him an enemy, and inquired for his 
 dead corpse, to have made it an example. An act of 
 the senate made upon that occasion is extant in Lam- 
 pridius : " Let the enemy of his country be deprived of 
 all his titles; let the parricide be drawn, let him be 
 torn in pieces in the Spoliary, let the enemy of the 
 gods, the executioner of the senate, be dragged with a 
 hook," &c. The same persons in a very full senate 
 condemned Didus Julianus to death, and sent a tribune 
 to slay him in the palace. The same senate deposed 
 Maximinus, and declared him an enemy. Let us hear 
 the words of the decree of the senate concerning him, 
 as Capitolinus relates it: " The consul put the ques- 
 tion, ' Conscript fathers, what is your pleasure concern- 
 ing the Maximines .-*' They answered, ' They are 
 enemies, they are enemies, whoever kills them shall 
 be rewarded.' " Would you know now, whether the 
 people of Rome, and the provinces of the empire, obeyed 
 the senate, or Maximinc the emperor ? Hear what the 
 same author says, the senate wrote letters into all the 
 provinces, requiring them to take care of their common 
 safety and liberty ; the letters were publicly read. And 
 the friends, the deputies, the generals, the tribunes, the 
 soldiers of Maximine, were slain in all places ; very 
 few cities were found, that kept their faith with the 
 public enemy. Herodian relates the same thing. But 
 what need we give any more instances out of the 
 Roman histories .'' Let us now see what manner of 
 thing the right of kings was in those days, in the na- 
 tions that bordered upon the empire. Ambiorix, a king 
 of the Gauls, confesses " the nature of his dominion to 
 be such, that the people have as great power over him, 
 as he over them." And consequently, as well as he 
 judged them, he might be judged by them. Vercin- 
 getorix, another king in Gaul, was accused of treason 
 by his own people. These things Csesar relates in his 
 history of the Gallic wars. " Neither is the regal power 
 among the Germans absolute and uncontrollable; lesser 
 matters are ordered and disposed by the princes ; 
 greater affairs by all the people. The king or prince 
 is more considerable by the authority of his persua- 
 sions, than by any power that he has of commanding. 
 If his opinion be not approved of, they declare their 
 
 dislike of it by a general murmuring noise." This is 
 out of Tacitus. Nay, and you yourself now confess, 
 that what but of late you exclaimed against as an un- 
 heanl of thing, has been often done, to wit, that " no 
 less than fifty Scottish kings have been either banish- 
 ed, or imprisoned, or put to death, nay, and some of 
 them publicly executed." Which having come to pass 
 in our very island ; why do you, as if it were your 
 otfice to conceal the violent deaths of tyrants, by bury- 
 ing them in the dark, exclaim against it as an abomin- 
 able and unheard of thing.'' You proceed to commend 
 the Jews and Christians for their religious obedience 
 even to tyrants, and to heap one lie upon another; in 
 all which I have already confuted you. Lately you 
 made large encomiums on the obedience of the Assy- 
 rians and Persians, and now you reckon up their rebel- 
 lions; and though but of late you said they never had 
 rebelled at all, now you give us a great many reasons 
 why they rebelled so often. Then you resume the nar- 
 rative of the manner of our king's death, which you 
 had broken off so long since; that if you had not taken 
 care sufficiently to appear ridiculous and a fool then, 
 you may do it now. You said, " he was led through 
 the members of his own court." What you mean by 
 the members of the court, I would gladly know. You 
 enumerate the calamities that the Romans underwent 
 by changing their kingdom into a commonwealth. In 
 which I have already shewn how grossly you give 
 yourself the He. What was it you said, when you 
 wrote against the Jesuit .'' You demonstrated, that " in 
 an aristocracy, or a popular state, there could but be 
 seditions and tumults, whereas under a tyrant nothing 
 was to be looked for, but certain ruin and destruction;" 
 and dare you now say, you vain corrupt mortal, that 
 " those seditions were punishments inflicted upon them 
 for banishing their kings ? " Forsooth, because King 
 Charles gave you a hundred Jacobusses, therefore the 
 Romans shall be punished for banishing their kings. 
 But " they that killed Julius Csesar, did not prosper 
 afterwards." I confess, if I would have had any tyrant 
 spared, it should have been him. For although he in- 
 troduced a monarchical goveniment into a free state by 
 force of arms, yet perhaps himself deserved a kingdom 
 best; and yet I conceive that none of those that killed 
 him can be said to have been punished for so doing, any 
 more than Caius Antonius, Cicero's colleague, for de- 
 stroying Catiline, who when he was afterward con- 
 demned for other crimes, says Cicero in his oration pro 
 Flacco, " Catiline's sepulchre was adorned with flow- 
 ers." For they that favoured Catiline, they rejoiced ; 
 they gave out then, that what Catiline did was just, to 
 increase the people's hatred against those that had cut 
 him off". These are artifices, which wicked men make 
 use off", to deter the best of men from punishing tyrants, 
 and flagitious persons, I might as easily say the quite 
 contrary, and instance in them that have killed tyrants, 
 and prospered afterwards ; if any certain inference 
 might be drawn in such cases from the events of things. 
 You object further, " that the English did not put their 
 hereditary king to death in like manner, as tyrants 
 used to be slain, but as robbers and traitors are exe- 
 
384 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 cuted." In the first place I do not, nor can any wise 
 man, understand what a crown's being' hereditary should 
 contribute to a king's crimes being unpunishable. 
 What you ascribe to the barbarous cruelty of the Eng- 
 lish, proceeded rather from their clemency and mode- 
 ration, and as such, deserves commendation ; who, 
 tbougli the being a tyrant is a crime that comprehends 
 all sorts of enormities, such as robberies, treasons, and 
 rebellions against the whole nation, yet were content- 
 ed to inflict no greater punishment upon him for bting 
 so, than they used of course to do upon any common 
 highwayman, or onlinary traitor. You hope " some 
 such men as Harmodius and Thrasibulus will rise up 
 against us, and make expiation for the king's death, 
 by shedding their blood tiiat were the authors of it." 
 But 3'ou will run mad with despair, and be detested 
 by all good men, and put an end to that wretched life 
 of yours, by hanging yourself, before you see men like 
 Harmodius avenging the blood of a tyrant upon sucb 
 as have done no other than what they did themselves. 
 That you will come to such an end is most probable, 
 nor can any other be expected of so great a rogue; but 
 the other thing is an utter impossibility. You mention 
 thirty tyrants that rebelled in Gallienus's time. And 
 •what if it fall out, that one tyrant happens to oppose 
 another, must therefore all they that resist tyrants be 
 accounted such themselves ? You cannot persuade men 
 into such a belief, you slave of a knight; nor your au- 
 thor Trebellius Pollio, the most inconsiderable of all 
 historians that have writ. " If any of the emperors 
 were declared enemies by the senate," you say, " it 
 was done by faction, but could not have been by law." 
 You put us in mind what it was that made emperors 
 at first: it was faction and violence, and to speak 
 plainer, it was the madness of Antony, that made gene- 
 rals at first rebel against the senate, and the people of 
 Rome ; there was no law, no right for their so doing. 
 " Galba," you say, " was punished for his insurrection 
 against Nero." Tell us likewise how Vespasian was 
 punished for taking up arms against Vitellius. " There 
 was as much difference, j-ou say, " betwixt Charles 
 and Nero, as betwixt those English butchers, and the 
 Roman senators of that age." Despicable villain ! by 
 whom it is scandalous to be commended, and a praise 
 to be evil spoken of: but a few periods before, dis- 
 coursing of this very thing, you said, " that the Roman 
 senate under the emperors was in eflTect but an assem- 
 bly of slaves in robes : " and here you say, " that very 
 senate was an assembly of kings;" which if it be 
 allowed, then are kings, according to your own opinion, 
 but slaves with robes on. Kings are blessed, that have 
 such a fellow as you to write in their praise, than whom 
 no man is more a rascal, no beast more void of sense, 
 unless this one may be said to be peculiar to you, that 
 none ever brayed so learnedly. You make the parliament 
 of England more like to Nero, than to the Roman se- 
 nate. This itch of yours of making similitudes enforces 
 me to rectify you, whether I will or no : and I will let 
 you see bow like King Charles was to Nero; Nero, 
 you say, '' commanded his own mother to be run through 
 with a sword." But Charles murdered both his prince, 
 
 
 and his father, and that by poison. For to omit other 
 
 evidences; he that would not suffer a duke that was 
 
 accused for it, to come to his trial, must needs have 
 
 been guilty of it himself. Nero slew many thousands 
 
 of Christians; but Charles slew many more. There 
 
 were those, says Suetonius, that praised Nero after ho 
 
 was dead, that longed to have had him again, " that 
 
 hung garlands of flowers upon his sepulchre," and 
 
 gave out that they would never prosper, that had been 
 
 his enemies. And some there are transported with 
 
 the like phrensy, that wish for King Charles again, 
 
 and extol him to the highest degree imaginable, o 
 
 whom you, a knight of the halter, are a ringleader. 
 
 " The English soldiers, more savage than their own 
 
 mastifls, erected a new and unheard of court of justice.' 
 
 Observe this ingenious symbol, or adage of Salmasius. 
 
 which he has now repeated six times over, " more sa< 
 
 vage than their own mastiflTs." Take notice, orator^ 
 
 and schoolmasters ; pluck, if you are wise, this elegani 
 
 flower, which Salmasius is so very fond of: commii 
 
 this flourish of a man, that is so much a master o; 
 
 words, to your desks for safe custody, lest it be lost. 
 
 Has your rage made you forget words to that degree, 
 
 that like a cuckoo, you must needs say the same thing 
 
 over and over again ? What strange thing has befaller 
 
 you .-* The poet tells us, that spleen and rage turned 
 
 Hecuba into a dog; and it has turned you, the lord o: 
 
 St. Lupus, into a cuckoo. Now you come out witl 
 
 fresn contradictions. You had said before, page 1 13 
 
 that " princes were not bound by any laws, neithei 
 
 coercive, nor directory ; that they were bound by no la^ 
 
 at all." Now you say, that " you will discourse by am 
 
 by of the difference betwixt some kings and others, ii 
 
 point of power; some having had more, some less.' 
 
 You say, " you will prove that kings cannot be judged 
 
 nor condemned by their own subjects, by a most soli 
 
 argument ;" but you do it by a very silly one, and i 
 
 is this : You say, " There was no other difference thai 
 
 that betwixt the judges, and the kings of the Jews 
 
 and yet the reason why the Jews required to hav( 
 
 kings over them, was because they were weary of thei 
 
 judges, and hated their government." Do you think 
 
 that, because they might judg'e and condemn thei 
 
 judges, if they misbehaved themselves in the govern 
 
 ment, they therefore hated and were weary of thena 
 
 and would be under kings, whom they should have n 
 
 power to restrain and keep within bounds, though the; 
 
 should break through all laws? Who but you ever a: 
 
 gued so childishly ? So that they desired a king fa 
 
 some other reason, than that they might have a maste 
 
 over them, whose power should be superiour to that 
 
 the law ; which reason, w hat it was, it is not to ou 
 
 present purpose to make a conjecture. Whatever 
 
 was, both God and his prophets tell us, it was no pie< 
 
 of prudence in the people to desire a king. And no 
 
 you fall foul upon your rabbins, and are very angr 
 
 with them for saying, that a king might be judged aw 
 
 condemned to undergo stripes ; out of whose writing 
 
 you said before you had proved, that the kings of th 
 
 Jews could not be judged. Wherein you confess, tha 
 
 I you told a lie when you said you had proved any sucl 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 385 
 
 thing' out of their writings. Nay, you come at last to 
 forget the subject you were upon, of writing in the 
 king's defence, and raise little impertinent contro- 
 versies about Solomon's stables, and how many stalls 
 he had for his horses. Then of a jockey you become 
 a ballad-singer again, or rather, as I said before, a 
 raving distracted cuckoo. You complain, that in these 
 latter ages, discipline has been more remiss, and the 
 rule less observed and kept up to ; viz. because one ty- 
 rant is not permitted, without a check from the law, to 
 let loose the reins of all discipline, and corrupt all 
 men's manners. This doctrine, you say, the Brown- 
 ists introduced amongst those of the reformed religion; 
 so that Luther, Calvin, Zuinglius, Bucer, and all the 
 most celebrated orthodox divines, are Brownists in 
 your opinion. The English have the less reason to 
 take your reproaches ill, because they hear you belch- 
 ing out the same slanders against the most eminent 
 doctors of the church, and in effect against the whole 
 reformed church itself. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 After having discoursed upon the law of God and 
 of nature, and handled both so untowardly, that you 
 have got nothing by the bargain but a deserved re- 
 proach of ignorance and knavery ; I cannot apprehend 
 what you can have further to allege in defence of your 
 royal cause, but mere trifles. I for my part hope I 
 have given satisfaction already to all good and learn- 
 ed men, and done this noble cause right, should I 
 break off here ; yet lest I should seem to any to de- 
 cline your variety of arguing and 'ngenuity, rather 
 than your immoderate impertinence, and tittle-tattle, I 
 will follow you wherever you have a mind to go; but 
 with such brevity as shall make it appear, that after 
 having performed whatever the necessary defence of 
 the cause required, if not what the dignity of it me- 
 rited, I now do but comply with some men's expecta- 
 tion, if not their curiosity. " Now," say you, " I shall 
 allege other and greater arguments." What ! greater 
 arguments than what the law of God and nature af- 
 forded ."* Help, Lucina ! the mountain Salmasius is in 
 labour ! It is not for nothing that he has got a she- 
 husband. Mortals, expect some extraordinary birth. 
 " If he that is, and is called a king, might be accused 
 before any other power, that power must of necessity 
 be greater than that of the king ; and if so, then must 
 that power be indeed the kingly power, and ought to 
 have the name of it: for a kingly power is thus de- 
 fined ; to wit, the supreme power in the state residing 
 in a single person, and which has no superiour." O 
 ridiculous birth ! a mouse crept out of the mountain ! 
 help grammarians! one of your number is in danger 
 of perishing! the law of God and of nature are safe; 
 but Salmasius's dictionary is undone. What if I 
 should answer you thus? That words ought to give 
 place to things; that we having taken away kingly 
 government itself, do not think ourselves concerned 
 
 about its name and definition ; let othere look to that, 
 who are in love with kings : we are contented with 
 the enjoyment of our liberty ; such an answer would 
 be good enough for you. But to let you see that I 
 deal fairly with you throughout, I will answer you, 
 not only from my own, but from the opinion of very 
 wise and good men, who have thought, that the name 
 and power of a king are very consistent with a power 
 in the people and the law superiour to that of the king 
 himself. In the first place, Lycurgus, a man very 
 eminent for wisdom, designing, as Plato says, to se- 
 cure a kingly government as well as it was possible, 
 could find no better expedient to preserve it, than by 
 making the power of the senate, and of the Ephori, 
 that is, the power of the people, superiour to it. The- 
 seus, in Euripides, king of Athens, was of the same 
 opinion ; for he to his great honour restored the peo- 
 ple to their liberty, and advanced the power of the 
 people above that of the king, and yet left the regal 
 power in that city to his posterity. Whence Euripi- 
 des in his play called the " Suppliants," introduces 
 him speaking on this manner: " I have advanced 
 the people themselves into the throne, having freed 
 the city from slavery, and admitted tlie people to a 
 share in the government, by giving them an equal 
 right of suffrage." And in another place to the herald 
 of Thebes, " in the first place," says he, " you begin 
 your speech, friend, with a thing that is not true, in 
 styling me a monarch : for this city is not governed 
 by a single person, but is a free state ; the people 
 reigns here." These were his words, when at the same 
 time he was both called and really was king there. 
 The divine Plato likewise, in his eighth epistle, 
 " Lycurgus," says he, " introduced the power of the 
 senate and of the Ephori, a thing very preservative 
 of kingly government, which by this means has 
 honourably flourished for so many ages, because the 
 law in eflTect was made king. Now the law cannot be 
 king, unless there be some, who, if there should be oc- 
 casion, may put the law in execution against the king. 
 A kingly government so bounded and limited, he him- 
 self commends to the Sicilians: " Let the people enjoy 
 their liberty under a kingly government; let the king 
 himself be accountable ; let the law take place even 
 against kings themselves, if they act contrary to law." 
 Aristotle likewise, in the third book of his Politics, 
 " of all kingdoms," says he, " that are governed by 
 laws, that of the Lacedemonians seems to be most truly 
 and properly so." And he says, all forms of kingly 
 governments are according to settled and established 
 laws, but one, which he calls van^aaiKtia, or Absolute 
 Monarchy, which he does not mention ever to have 
 obtained in any nation. So that Aristotle thought such 
 a kingdom, as that of the Lacedemonians was to be 
 and deserve the name of a kingdom more properly than 
 any other; and consequently that a king, though sub- 
 ordinate to his own people, was nevertheless actually 
 a king, and properly so called. Now since so many 
 and so great authors assert, that a kingly government 
 both in name and thing may very well subsist even 
 where the peoj)le, though they do not ordinarily exer- 
 
386 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 cise the supreme power, yet have it actually residiiinf 
 in them, and exercise it upon occasion ; be not you of 
 so mean a soul as to fear the downfall of grammar, and 
 the confusion of tlie sig^nification of words to that de- 
 gree, as to betray the liberty of mankind, and the state, 
 rather than your jflossary should not hold water. And 
 know for the future, that words must be conformable 
 to things, not things to words. By this means you 
 will have more wit, and not run on in infinitum, which 
 now you are afraid of. " It was to no purpose then 
 for Seneca," you say, " to describe those three forms of 
 government, as he has done." Let Seneca do a thing 
 to no purpose, so we enjoy our liberty. ' And if I mis- 
 take us not, we are other sort of men, than to be en- 
 slaved by Seneca's flowers. And yet Seneca, though 
 he says, that the sovereign power in a kingly govern- 
 ment resides in a single person, says withal, that " the 
 power is the people's," and by them committed to the 
 king for the welfare of the whole, not for their ruin and 
 destruction ; and that the people has not given him a 
 propriety in it, but the use of it. " Kings at this rate," 
 yon say, " do not reign by God but by the people." 
 As if God did not so overrule the people, that they set 
 up such kings, as it pleases God. Since Justinian 
 himself openly acknowledges, that the Roman empe- 
 rors derived their authority from that " royal law, 
 whereby the people granted to them and vested in them 
 all their own power and authority." But how oft shall 
 we repeat these things over and over again .'* Then you 
 take upon you to intermeddle with the constitution of 
 our government, in which you are no way concerned, 
 who are both a stranger and a foreigner; but it shews 
 your sauciness, and want of good manners. Come 
 then, let us hear your solecisms, like a busy coxcomb 
 as you are. You tell us, but it is in false Latin, " that 
 what those desperadoes say, is only to deceive the 
 people." You rascal ! was it not for this that you, a 
 renegado grammarian, were so forward to intenneddle 
 with the affairs of our government, that you laight in- 
 troduce your solecisms and barbarisms amongst us ? 
 But say, how have we deceived the people ? " The 
 form of government which they have set up, is not po- 
 pular, but military." This is what that herd of fugi- 
 tives and vagabonds hired you to write. So that T 
 shall not trouble myself to answer you, who bleat what 
 you know nothing of, but I will answer them that 
 hired you. " Who excluded the lords from parliament, 
 was it the people ?" Ay, it was the people ; and in so 
 doing they threw an intolerable yoke of slavery from 
 off their necks. Those very soldiers, who you say did 
 it, were not foreigners, but our own countrymen, and 
 a great part of the people ; and they did it with the 
 consent, and at the desire, of almost all the rest of the 
 people, and not without the authority of the parliament 
 neither. " Was it the people that cut off part of the 
 house of commons, forcing some away ?" &c. Yes, I 
 say, it was the people. For whatever the better and 
 sounder part of the senate did, in which the true power 
 of the people resided, why may not the people be 
 Mid to have done it ? What if the greater part of the 
 senate should choose to be slaves, or to expose the go- 
 
 vernment to sale, ought not the lesser number to inter- 
 pose, and endeavour to retain their liberty, if it be in 
 their power."* " But the officers of the army and their 
 soldiers did it." And we are beholden to those officers 
 for not being wanting to the state, but repelling the 
 tumultuary violence of the citizens and mechanics of 
 London, who, like that rabble that appeared for Ciodius, 
 had but a little before beset the very parliament house ? 
 Do you therefore call the right of the parliament, to 
 whom it properly and originally belongs, to take care 
 of the liberty of the people both in peace and war, a 
 military power .'' But it is no wonder that those traitors 
 that have dictated these passages to you, should talk at 
 that rate ; so that profligate faction of Antony and his 
 adherents used to call the senate of Rome, when they 
 armed themselves against the enemies of their country. 
 The camp of Pompey. And now I am glad to under- 
 stand, that they of your party envy Cromwell, that 
 most valiant general of our army, for undertaking that 
 expedition in Ireland, (so acceptable to Almighty God,) 
 surrounded with a joyful crowd of his friends, and pro- 
 secuted with the well-wishes of the people, and the 
 prayers of all good men : for I question not but at the 
 news of his many victories there, they are by this time 
 burst with spleen. I pass by many of your imperti- 
 nencies concerning the Roman soldiers. What follows 
 is most notoriously false : " The power of the people," 
 say you, " ceases where there is a king." By what 
 law of right is that .'* Since it is known that almost all 
 kings, of what nations soever, received their authority 
 from the people upon certain conditions ; which if the 
 king do not perform, I wish you would inform us, why 
 that power, which was but a trust, should not return to 
 the people, as well from a king, as from a consul, or 
 any other magistrate. For when you tell us, that it is 
 necessary for the public safety, you do but trifle with 
 us ; for the safety of the public is equally concerned, 
 whether it be from a King, or from a Senate, or from a 
 Triumvirate, that the power wherewith they were en- 
 trusted reverts to the people, upon their abuse of it ; 
 and yet you youreelf grant, that it may so revert from 
 all sorts of magistrates, a king only excepted. Cer- 
 tainly, if no people in their right wits ever committed 
 the government either to a king, or other magistrates, 
 for any other purpose than for the common good of 
 them all, there can be no reason why, to prevent the 
 utter ruin of them all, they may not as well take it 
 back again from a king, as from other governors ; nay, 
 and it may with far greater ease be taken from one, 
 tlian from many. And to invest any mortal creature 
 with a power over themselves, on any other terms than 
 upon trust, were extreme madness; nor is it credible 
 that any people since the creation of the world, who 
 had freedom of will, were ever so miserably silly, as 
 either to part with the power for ever, and to all pur- 
 poses, or to revoke it from those whom tliey had en- 
 trusted with it, but upon most urgent and weighty 
 reasons. If dissensions, if civil ware, are occasioned 
 thereby, there cannot any right accrue from thence to 
 the king, to retain that power by force of arms, which 
 the people cliallenge from him as their own. Whcuce 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 387 
 
 it follows, tliat what you saj', and we do not deny, that 
 " governors are not likely to be cbanged," is true with 
 respect to the people's prudence, not the king's right ; 
 but that therefore they ought never to be changed, 
 upon no occasion whatsoever, that does not follow by 
 no means; nor have you hitherto alleged anything, 
 or made appear any right of kings to the contrary, but 
 that all tlie people concurring, they may lawfully be 
 deposed, when unfit for government ; provided it may 
 be done, as it has been often done in your own country 
 of France, without any tumults or civil wars. Since 
 therefore the safety of the people, and not that of a ty- 
 rant, is the supreme law ; and consequently ought to 
 be alleged on the people's behalf against a tyrant, and 
 not for him against them : you that go about to pervert 
 so sacred and so glorious a law, with your fallacies 
 and jugglings ; you who would have this supreme law, 
 and which of all others is most beneficial to mankind, 
 to serve only for the impunity of tyrants; let me tell 
 you, (since you call us Englishmen so often inspired, 
 and enthusiasts, and prophets,) let me, I say, be so far 
 a prophet, as to tell you, that the vengeance of God 
 and man hangs over your head for so horrid a crime ; 
 although your subjecting all mankind to tyranny, as 
 far as in you lies, which in effect is no better than con- 
 demning them to be devoured by wild beasts, is iu 
 itself part of its own vengeance; and whithersoever 
 you fly, and wheresoever you wander, will first or last 
 pursue you with its furies, and overtake you, and cause 
 you to rave worse than you do at present. I come 
 now to your second argument, which is not unlike the 
 fii-st : If the people may resume their liberty, " there 
 would be no difference," say you, " betwixt a popular 
 state and a kingdom ; but that in a kingdom one man 
 rules, and in a popular state many." And what if that 
 were true; would the state have any prejudice by it.'' 
 But you yourself tell us of other differences that would 
 be notwithstanding ; to w it, of " Time and succession ; 
 for in popular states, the magistrates are generally 
 chosen yearly ;" whereas kings, if they behave them- 
 selves well, are perpetual ; and in most kingdoms there 
 is a succession in the same family. But let them differ 
 from one another, or not differ, I regard not those petty 
 things: in this they agree, that when the public good 
 requires it, the people may, without doing injury to 
 any, resume that power for the public safety, which 
 they committed to another for that end and purpose. 
 " But according to the royal law, by the Romans so 
 called, which is mentioned in the institutes, the people 
 of Rome granted all their power and authority to the 
 prince." They did so by compulsion; the emperor 
 being willing to ratify their tyranny by the authority 
 of a law. But of this we have spoken before; and 
 their own lawj'ers, commenting upon this place in the 
 institutes, confess as much. So that we make no ques- 
 tion but the people may revoke what they were forced 
 to grant, and granted against their wills. But most 
 rational it is to suppose, that the people of Rome trans- 
 ferred no other power to the prince, than they had be- 
 fore granted to their own magistrates ; and that was a 
 power to govern according to law, and a revocable, not 
 
 2 c 
 
 an absurd, tyrannical power. Hence it was, that the 
 emperors assumed the consular dignity, and that of the 
 tribunes of the people ; but after Julius Caesar, not one 
 of them pretended to the dictatorship : in the Circus 
 Maximus they used to adore the people, as I have said 
 already out of Tacitus and Claudian. But " as here- 
 tofore many private persons have sold themselves into 
 slavery, so a whole nation may." Thou jailbird of a 
 knight, thou day-spirit, thou everlasting scandal to thy 
 native country ! The most despicable slaves in the 
 world ought to abhor and spit upon such a factor for 
 slavery, such a public pander as thou art. Certainly 
 if people had so enslaved themselves to kings, then 
 might kings turn them over to other masters, or sell 
 them for money, and yet we know that kings cannot 
 so much as alienate the demesnes of the crown : and 
 shall he, that has but the crown, and the revenues that 
 belong to it, as an usufructuary, and those given him 
 by the people, can he be said to have, as it were, pur- 
 chased the people, and made them his propriety ? 
 Though you were bored through both ears, and went 
 barefoot, you would not be so vile and despicable, so 
 much more contemptible than all slaves, as the broach- 
 ing such a scandalous doctrine as this makes you. But 
 go on, and punish yourself for your rogueries as now 
 you do, though against your will. You frame a long 
 discourse of the law of war; which is nothing to the 
 purpose in this place : for neither did Charles conquer 
 us ; and for his ancestors, if it were never so much 
 granted that they did, yet have they often renounced 
 their title as conquerors. And certain it is. That we 
 were never so conquered, but that as we swore allegi- 
 ance to them, so they swore to maintain our laws, and 
 govern by them : which laws, when Charles had noto- 
 riously violated, taken in what capacity you will, as 
 one who had formerly been a conquerer or was nrjw a 
 perjured king, we subdued him by force, he himself 
 having. begun with us first. And according to your 
 own opii 'on, " Whatever is acquired by war, becomes 
 his property that acquired it." So that how full soever 
 you are of words, how impertinent soever a babbler, 
 whatever you prate, how great a noise soever you make, 
 what quotations soever out of the rabbins, though you 
 make yourself never so hoarse, to the end of this chap- 
 ter, assure yourself. That nothing of it makes for the 
 king, he being now conquered, but all for us, who by 
 God's assistance are conquerors. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 To avoid two very great inconvenieucies, and, con- 
 sidering your own weight, very weighty ones indeed, 
 you denied in the foregoing chapter, that the people's 
 power was superior to that of the king; for if that 
 should be granted, kings must provide themselves of 
 some other name, because the people would indeed be 
 king, and some divisions in your s^'stem of politics 
 would be confounded : the first of which inconveni- 
 
388 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 encies would thwart with your dictionary, and the lat- 
 ter overthrow your politics. To these I have given 
 such an answer as shews, that though our own safety 
 and liberty were the principal things I aimed the pre- 
 servation of, yet withal, I had some consideration of 
 salving your dictionary, and your politics. " Now," 
 say you, " I will prove by other arguments. That a 
 king cannot be judged by bis own subjects; of which 
 arguments this shall be the greatest and most convin- 
 cing, that a king has no peer in his kingdom." What ! 
 Can a king have no peer in his kingdom ? \Vhat then 
 is the meaning of those twelve ancient peers of the 
 kings of France ? Are they fables and trifles ? Are 
 they called so in vain, and in mock only ? Have a 
 care how you affront those principal men of that king- 
 dom; who if they are not the king's peers, as they are 
 called, I am afraid your dictionary, which is the only 
 thine you are concerned for, will be found more faulty 
 iu France than in England. But go to, let us liear 
 your demonstration, that a king has no peer in his own 
 kingdom. " Because," say you, " the people of Rome, 
 when they had banished their king, appointed not one, 
 but two consuls : and the reason was. That if one of 
 them should transgress the laws, his colleague might 
 be a check to him." There could hardly have been de- 
 vised any thing more silly : how came it to pass then, 
 that but one of the consuls had the bundles of rods car- 
 ried before him, and not both, if two were appointed, 
 that each might have a power over the other .!* And 
 what if both had conspired against the commonwealth ? 
 Would not the case then be the very same that it would 
 have been, if one consul only had been appointed with- 
 out a colleague ? But we know very well, that both 
 consuls, and all other magistrates, were bound to obey 
 the senate, whenever the senate and the people saw, 
 that the interest of the commonwealth so required. 
 We have a famous instance of that in the decemvirs, 
 who though they were invested with the power of con- 
 suls, and were the chief magistrates, yet the authority 
 of the senate reduced them all, though they struggled 
 to retain their government. Nay, we read that some 
 consuls, before they were out of office, had been de- 
 clared enemies, and arms have been taken up against 
 them ; for in those days no man looked upon him as a 
 consul, who acted as an enemy. So war was waged 
 against Antony, though a consul, by authority of the 
 senate ; in which being worsted, he would have been 
 put to death, but that Octavius, affecting the empire, 
 sided with him to subvert the commonwealth. Now 
 whereas you say, " that it is a property peculiar to 
 kingly majesty, that the power resides in a single per- 
 son ;" that is but a loose expression, like the rest of 
 what you say, and is contradicted by yourself a little 
 after: "for the Hebrew judges," you say, "ruled as 
 long as they lived, and there was but one of them at 
 a time ; the Scripture also calls them kings : and yet 
 they were accountable to the great council." Thus 
 we see, that an itch of vain glory, in being thought to 
 have said all that can be said, makes you hardly say 
 any thing but contradictions. Then I ask, what kind 
 of goremment that was in the Roman empire, when 
 
 sometimes two, sometimes three emperors, reigned all 
 at once.'' Do you reckon them to have been empe- 
 rors, that is, king^, or was it an aristocracy, or a tri- 
 umvirate .'* Or will you deny, that the Roman emj»ire 
 under Antoninus and Verus, under Dioclesian and 
 Maximian, under Constantine and Licinius, was still 
 but one entire empire .'' If these princes were not 
 kings, your three forms of government will hardly 
 hold ; if they were, then it is not an essential property 
 of a kingly government, to reside in a single person. 
 " If one of these offend," say you," then may the other 
 refer the matter to the senate, or the people, where he 
 may be accused and condemned." And does not the 
 senate and the people then judge, when the matter is 
 so referred to them ? So that if you will give any cre- 
 dit to yourself, there needs not one colleague to judge 
 another. Such a miserable advocate as you, if you 
 were not so wretched a fellow as you are, would de- 
 serve compassion ; you lie every way so open to blows, 
 that if one were minded for sport's sake to make a 
 pass at any part of you, he could hardly miss, let him 
 aim where he would. " It is ridiculous," say you, " to 
 imagine, that a king will ever appoint judges to con- 
 demn himself." But I can tell you of an emperor, 
 that was no ridiculous person, but an excellent prince, 
 and that was Trajan, who when he delivered a dagger 
 to a certain Roman magistrate, as the custom was, that 
 being the badge of his office, frequently thus admo- 
 nished him, " Take this sword, and use it for me, if I 
 do as I ought; if otherwise, against me: for miscar- 
 riages in the supreme magistrate are less excusable." 
 This Dion and Aurelius Victor say of him. You see 
 here, that a worthy emperor appointed one to judge 
 himself, though he did not make him equal. Tibe- 
 rius perhaps might have said as much out of vanity 
 and hypocrisy ; but it is almost a crime to imagine, 
 that so good and virtuous a prince as Trajan, did not 
 really speak as he thought, and according to what he 
 apprehended right and just. How much more reason- 
 able was it, that though he were superiour to the se- 
 nate in power, and might, if he would, have refused to 
 yield them any obedience, yet he actually did obey 
 them, as by virtue of his office he ought to do, and ac- 
 knowledged their right in the government to be supe- 
 riour to his own ! For so Pliny tells us in his Panegy- 
 ric, " The senate both desired and commanded you to be 
 consul a fourth time ; you may know by the obedience 
 you pay them, that this is no word of flattery, but of 
 power." And a little after, " This is the design you 
 aim at, to restore our lost liberty." And Trajan was 
 not of that mind alone ; the senate thought so too, and 
 were of opinion, that their authority was indeed su- 
 preme : for they that could command their emperor, 
 might judge him. So the emperor Marcus Aurelius, 
 when Cassius governor of Syria endeavoured to get the 
 empire from him, referred himself either to the senate, 
 or the people of Rome, and declared himself ready to 
 lay down the government, if they would have it so. 
 Now how should a man determine of the right of kiri<rs 
 better, and more truly, than out of the very mouths vf 
 the best of kings? Indeed every good king accounts 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 389 
 
 cither the senate, or the people, not only equal, but 
 superiour to himself by the law of nature. But a 
 tyrant being by nature inferiour to all men, every one 
 that is stronger than he, ought to be accounted not 
 only his equal, but superiour : for as heretofore nature 
 taught men from force and violence to betake them- 
 selves to laws ; so wherever the laws are set at naught, 
 the same dictate of nature must necessarily prompt us 
 to betake ourselves to force again. " To be of this 
 opinion," says Cicero pro Sestio, "is a sign of wisdom; 
 to put it in practice, argues courage and resolution ; 
 and to do both, is the effect of virtue in its perfection." 
 Let this stand then as a settled maxim of the law of 
 nature, never to be shaken by any artifices of Hatterers, 
 that the senate, or the people, are superiour to kings, 
 be they good or bad : which is but what you yourself 
 do in effect confess, when you tell us, that the au- 
 thority of kings was derived from the people. For that 
 power, which they transferred to princes, doth yet na- 
 turally, or, as I may say, virtually reside in themselves 
 notwithstanding: for so natural causes, that produce 
 any effect by a certain eminency of operation, do always 
 retain more of their own virtue and energy than they 
 impart; nor do they, by communicating to others, ex- 
 haust themselves. You see, the closer we keep to na- 
 ture, the more evidently does the people's power appear 
 to be above that of the prince. And this is likewise 
 certain, that the people do not freely, and of choice, 
 settle the government in the king absolutely, so as to 
 give him a propriety in it, nor by nature can do so ; 
 but only for the public safety and liberty, which, when 
 the king ceases to take care of, then the people in effect 
 have given him nothing at all : for nature says, the 
 people gave it him to a particular end and purjiose ; 
 which end, if neither nature nor the people can attain, 
 the people's gift becomes no more valid than any other 
 void covenant or agreement. These reasons prove very 
 fully, that the people are superiour to the king; and so 
 your " greatest and most convincing argument, that a 
 king cannot be judged by his people, because he has 
 no peer in his kingdom," nor any superiour, falls to 
 the ground. For you take that for granted, which wc 
 by no means allow. " In a popular state," say you, 
 " the magistrates being appointed by the people, may 
 likewise be punished for their crimes by the people : in 
 an aristocracy the senators may be punished by their 
 colleagues: but it is a prodigious thing to proceed 
 criminally against a king in his own kingdom, and 
 make him plead for his life." What can you conclude 
 from hence, but that they who set up kings over them, 
 are the most miserable and u.ost silly people in the 
 world ? But, I pray, what is the reason why the peo- 
 ple may not punish a king that becomes a malefactor, 
 as well as they may popular magistrates and senators 
 in an aristocracy ? Do you think that all they who 
 live under a kingly government, were so strangely in 
 love with slavery, as when they might be free, to choose 
 vassalage, and to put themselves all and entirely under 
 the dominion of one man, who often happens to be an 
 ill man, and often a fool, so as whatever cause might 
 be, to leave themselves no refuge in, no relief from, the 
 
 laws nor the dictates of nature, against the tyranny of 
 a most outrageous master, when such a one happens? 
 Why do they then tender conditions to their kings, 
 when they first enter upon their government, and pre- 
 scribe laws for them to govern by ? Do they do tliis 
 to be trampled upon the more, and be the more laughed 
 to scorn ? Can it be imagined, that a whole people 
 would ever so vilify themselves, depart from their own 
 interest to that degree, be so wanting to themselves, as 
 to place all their hopes in one man, and he very often 
 the most vain person of them all ? To what end do 
 they require an oath of their kings, not to act any 
 thing contrary to law ? We must suppose them to do 
 this, that (poor creatures!) they may learn to their 
 sorrow, that kings only may commit perjury with im- 
 punity. This is what your own wicked conclusions 
 hold forth. " If a king, that is elected, promise any 
 thing to his people upon oath, which, if he would not 
 have sworn to, perhaps they would not have chose 
 him, yet if he refuse to perform that promise, he falls 
 not under the people's censure. Nay, though he swear 
 to his subjects at his election, that he will administer 
 justice to them according to the laws of the kingdom ; 
 and that if he do not, they shall be discharged of their 
 allegiance, and himself ipso facto cease to be their 
 king ; yet if be break this oath, it is God and not man 
 that must require it of him." I have transcribed these 
 lines, not for their elegance, for they are barbarously 
 expressed ; nor because I think there needs any answer 
 to them, for they answer themselves, they explode and 
 damn themselves by their notorious falsehood and 
 loathsomeness : but I did it to recommend you to kings 
 for your great merits ; that among so many places as 
 there are at a court, they may put you into some pre- 
 ferment or office that may be fit for you. Some are 
 princes' secretaries, some their cup-bearers, some mas- 
 ters of the revels: I think you had best be master 
 of the perjuries to some of them. You shall not be 
 master of the ceremonies, you are too much a clown 
 for that ; but their treachery and perfidiousness shall be 
 under your care. But that men may see you are both 
 a fool and a knave to the highest degree, let us consider 
 these last assertions of yours a little more narrowly : 
 " A king," say you, " though he swear to his subjects 
 at his election, that he will govern according to law, 
 and that if he do not, they shall be discharged of their 
 allegiance, and he himself ipso facto cease to be their 
 king ; yet can he not be deposed or punished by them." 
 Why not a king, I pray, as well as popular magis- 
 trates.'' because in a popular state, the people do not 
 transfer all their power to the magistrates. And do they, 
 in the case that you have put, vest it all in the king, 
 when they place him in the government upon those 
 tei-ms expressly, to hold it no longer than he uses it 
 well ? Therefore it is evident, that a king sworn to ob- 
 serve the laws, if he transgress them, may be punished 
 and deposed, as well as popular magistrates. So that 
 you can make no more use of that invincible argument 
 of the people's transferring all their right and power to 
 the prince; you joureelf have battered it down with 
 your own engines. Hear now another most powerful 
 
390 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 and invincible argument of his, why subjects cannot 
 judge their kings, " because he is bound by no law, 
 being himself the sole lawgiver." Which having been 
 proved already to be most false, this great reason comes 
 to nothing, as well as the former. But tlie reason why 
 princes have but seldom been proceeded against for 
 personal and private crimes, as whoredom, and adul- 
 tery, and the like, is not because they could not justly 
 be punished even for such, but lest the people should 
 receive more prejudice through disturbances that might 
 be occasioned by the king's death, and the change of 
 affairs, than they would be profited by the punishment 
 of one man or two. But when they begin to be uni- 
 versally injurious and insufferable, it has always been 
 the opinion of all nations, that then, being tyrants, it 
 is lawful to put them to death any how, condemned or 
 uncondemned. HenceCicero, in his Second Philippic, 
 says thus of those that killed Ceesar, " they were the 
 first that ran through with their swords, not a man who 
 affected to be king, but who was actually settled in the 
 government ; which, as it was a worthy and godlike 
 action, so it is set before us for our imitation." How 
 ' unlike are you to him ! " Murder, adultery, injuries, 
 are not regal and public, but private and personal 
 crimes." Well said, parasite ! you have obliged all 
 pimps and profligates in courts by this expression. 
 How ingeniously do you act both the i)arasite and the 
 pimp with the same breath ! " A king that is an adul- 
 terer, or a murderer, may yet govern well, and conse- 
 quently ought not to be put to death, because, together 
 with his life, he must lose bis kingdom ; and it was 
 never yet allowed by God's laws, or man's, that for one 
 and the same crime, a man was to be punished twice." 
 Infamous foulmouth w retch ! By the same reason the 
 magistrates in a popular state, or in an aristocracy, 
 ought never to be put to death, for fear of double 
 punishment; no judge, no senator must die, for they 
 must lose their magistracy too, as well as their lives. 
 As you have endeavoured to take all power out of the 
 people's hands, and vest it in the king, so you would 
 all majesty too : a delegated translatitious majesty we 
 allow, but that majesty does chiefly and primarily re- 
 side in him, you can no more prove, than you can, that 
 power and authority does. " A king," you say, "can- 
 not commit treason against his people, but a people 
 may against their king." And yet a king is what he 
 is for the people only, not the people for him. Hence 
 I infer, that the whole body of the people, or the greater 
 part of them, must needs have greater power than the 
 king. This you deny, and begin to cast up accounts. 
 " He is of greater power than any one, than any two, 
 than any three, than any ten, than any hundred, than 
 any thousand, than any ten thousand :" be it so, " he 
 is of more power than half the people." I will not 
 deny that neither ; " add now half of the other half, 
 will he not have more power than all those ?" Not at 
 all. Go on, why do you take away the board ? Do 
 you not understand progression in arithmetic? He 
 begins to reckon after another manner. " Has not the 
 king, and the nobility together, more power ?" No, Mr. 
 Changeling, I deny that too. If by the nobility, whom 
 
 you style optimates, you mean the peers only ; for it 
 may happen that amongst the whole number of them, 
 there may not be one man deserving that appellation : 
 for it often falls out, that there are better and wiser 
 men than they amongst the commons, whom in con- 
 junction with the greater or the better part of the 
 pe()])le, I should not scruple to call by the name of, and 
 take them for, all the people. " But if the king is not 
 superiour in power to all the people together, he is then 
 a king but of single persons, he is not the king of the 
 whole body of the people*' You say well, no more he 
 is, unless they are content he should be so. Now, 
 balance your accounts, and you will find that by mis- 
 casting, you have lost your principal. " The English 
 say, that the right of majesty originally and principally 
 resides in the people; which principle would introduce 
 a confusion of all states." What, of an aristocracy and 
 democracy ? But let that pass. What if it should over- 
 throw a gyiieeocracy too ? (i. e. a government of one or 
 more women,) under which state, or form of government, 
 they say, you are in danger of being beaten at home ; 
 would not the En^^lish do you a kindness in that, you 
 sheepish fellow, you ? But there is no hope of that. 
 For it is most justly so ordered, since you would sub- 
 ject all mankind to tyranny abroad, that you yourself 
 should live in a scandalous most unmanlike slavery at 
 home. " We must tell you," you say, " what we mean 
 by the word People." There are a great many other 
 things, which you stand more in need of being told : 
 for of things that more immediately concern you, jou 
 seem altogether ignorant, and never to have learnt auy 
 thing but words and letters, not to be capable of any 
 thing else. But this you think you know, that by the 
 word people we mean the common people only, exclu- 
 sive of the nobility, because we have put down the 
 House of Lords. And yet that very thing shews, that 
 under the word people we comprehend all our natives, 
 of what order and degree soever; in that we have 
 settled one supreme senate only, in which the nobility 
 also, as a part of the people, (not in their own right, as 
 they did before ; but representing those boroughs or 
 counties, for which they may be chose,) may give their 
 votes. Then you inveigh against the common people, 
 as being "blind and brutish, ignorant of the art of 
 governing ;" you say there is " nothing more empty, 
 more vain, more inconstant, more uncertain than they.' 
 All which is very true of yourself, and it is true like- 
 wise of the rabble, but not of the middle sort, amongst 
 whom the most prudent meo, and most skilful in 
 affairs, are generally found ; others are most commonly 
 diverted either by luxury and plenty, or by want and 
 poverty, from virtue, and the study of laws and govern- 
 ment. " There are many ways," you say, " by w hich 
 kings come to the crown, so as not to be beholden to 
 the people at all for jt ;" and especially, " those that 
 inherit a kingdom." But those nations must certainly 
 be slaves, and born to slavery, that acknowledge any 
 one to be their lord and master so absolutely, as thatjA 
 they are his inheritance, and come to him by descent,a- 
 without any consent of their own ; they deserve not the 
 appellation of subjects, nor of freemen, nor can they 
 
IX ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 391 
 
 justly be reputed such ; nor are they to be accounted 
 as a civil society, but must be looked on as the jjosses- 
 sions and estate of their lord, and his family : for I see 
 no difference as to the right of ownership betwixt them, 
 and slaves, or beasts. Secondly, " they that come to 
 the crown by conquest, cannot acknowledge them- 
 selves to have received from the people the power 
 to usurp." We are not now discoursing of a con- 
 queror, but of a conquered king ; what a conqueror 
 may lawfully do, we will discourse elsewhere ; do you 
 keep to your subject. But whereas you ascribe to 
 kings that ancient right, that masters of families have 
 over their households, and take an example from thence 
 of their absolute power; I have shewn already over 
 and over, that there is no likeness at all betwixt them. 
 And Aristotle (whom you name so often) if you had 
 read him, would have taught you as much in the be- 
 ginning of his Politics, where he says they judge 
 amiss, that think there is but little difference betwixt 
 a king, and a master of a family : " For that there is 
 not a numerical, but a specifical difference betwixt a 
 kingdom and a family." For when villages grew to 
 be towns and cities, that regal domestic right vanished 
 by degrees, and was no more owned. Hence Diodorus, 
 in his first book, says, that anciently kingdoms were 
 transmitted not to the former kings' sons, but to those 
 that had best deserved of the people. And Justin, 
 " Originally," says he, " the government of nations, 
 and of countries, was by kings, who were exalted to 
 that height of majesty, not by popular ambition, but 
 for their moderation, which commended them to good 
 men." Whence it is manifest, that, in the very begin- 
 ning of nations, that fatherly and hereditary govern- 
 ment gave way to virtue, and the people's right : which 
 is the most natural reason and cause, and was the true 
 lise of kingly government. For at first men entered 
 into societies, not that any one might insult over all 
 the rest, but that in case any should injure another, 
 there might be laws and judges to protect them from 
 •wrong, or at least to punish the wrong doers. When 
 men were at fii-st dispersed and scattered asunder, some 
 wise and eloquent man persuaded them to enter into 
 civil societies; " that he himself," say you, " might 
 exercise dominion over them, when so united." Per- 
 haps you meant this of Nimrod, who is said to have 
 been the first tyrant. Or else it proceeds from your 
 own malice only, and certainly it cannot have been 
 true of those great and generous spirited men, but is a 
 fiction of your own, not warranted by any authority 
 that I ever heard of. For all ancient writers tell us, 
 that those first instituters of communities of men had 
 a regard to the good and safety of mankind only, and 
 not to any private advantages of their own, or to 
 make themselves great or powerful. One thing I 
 cannot pass by, which I suppose you intended for an 
 emblem, to set off the rest of this chapter : " If a con- 
 sul," say you, " had been to be accused before his 
 magistracy expired, there must have been a dictator 
 created for that purpose ;" though you had said before, 
 " that for that very reason there were two of them." 
 Just so your positions always agree with one another. 
 
 and almost every page declares how weak and frivolous 
 whatever you say or write upon any subject is. " Un- 
 der the ancient Saxon kings," you say, " the people 
 were never called to parliaments." If any of our own 
 countrymen had asserted such a thing, I could easily 
 have convinced him that he was in an eiTour. But I 
 am not so much concerned at your mistaking our affairs, 
 because you are a foreigner. This in effect is all you 
 say of the right of kings in general. Many other 
 things I omit, for you use many digressions, and put 
 things down that either have no ground at all, or are 
 nothing to the purpose, and my design is not to vie 
 with you in impertinence. 
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 If you had published your own opinion, Salmasius, 
 concerning the right of kings in general, without   
 affronting any persons in particular, notwithstanding 
 this alteration of affairs in England, as long as you ^ 
 did but use your own liberty in writing what yourself 
 thought fit, no Englishman could have had any cause 
 to have been displeased with you, nor would you have 
 made good the opinion you maintain ever a whit the 
 less. For if it be a positive command both of Moses 
 and of Christ himself, " That all men whatsoever, 
 whether Spaniards, French, Italians, Germans, Eng- 
 lish, or Scots, should be subject to their princes, be they 
 good or bad," which you asserted, p. 127, to what pur- 
 pose was it for you, who are a foreigner, and unknown 
 to us, to be tampering with our laws, and to read us 
 lectures out of them as out of your own papers and 
 miscellanies, which, be they how they will, you have 
 taught us already in a great many words, that they 
 ought to give way to the laws of God .'* But now it is 
 apparent, that you have undertaken the defence of this 
 royal cause, not so much out of your own inclination, 
 as partly because you were hired, and that at a good 
 round price too, considering how things are with him 
 that set you on work ; and partly, it is like, out of ex- 
 pectation of some greater reward hereafter; to publish 
 a scandalous libel against the English, who are injuri- 
 ous to none of their neighbours, and meddle with their 
 own matters only. If there were no such thing as that 
 in the case, is it credible, that any man should be so 
 impudent or so mad, as though he be a stranger, and 
 at a great distance from us, yet of his own accord to 
 intermeddle with our aflfairs, and side with a party ? 
 What the devil is it to you, what the English do 
 amongst themselves ? What would you have, prag- 
 matical puppy .•* What would you be at ? Have you 
 no concerns of your own at home ? I wish you had 
 the same concerns that that famous Olus, your fellow- 
 busybody in the Epigram, had ; and perhaps so you 
 have ; you deserve them, I am sure. Or did that hot- 
 spur your wife, who encouraged you to write what you 
 have done for outlawed Charles's sake, promise you 
 some profitable professor's place in England, and God 
 
302 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 knows whal gratifications at Charles's return ? But 
 assure youreelves, my mistress and my master, that 
 England admits neither of wolves, nor owners of 
 wolves : so that it is no wonder you spit so much ve- 
 nom at our Eng'lish mastifTs. It were better for you 
 to return to those illustrious titles of yours in France ; 
 first to that hunfferstarved lordship of yours at *St. 
 Lou ; and in the next place to the sacred consistory of 
 the most christian king. Being' a counsellor U) the 
 prince, you are at too great a distance from your own 
 country. But I see full well, that she neither desires 
 you, nor your counsel ; nor did it appear she did, when 
 you were there a few years ago, and began to lick a 
 cardinal's trencher: she is in the right, by my troth, 
 and can very willingly suffer such a little fellow as 
 vou, that are but one half of a man, to run up and down 
 with your mistress of a wife, and your desks full of 
 trifles and fooleries, till you light somewhere or other 
 upon a stipend, large enough for a knight of the gram- 
 mar, or an illustrious critic on horeeback, if any prince 
 or state has a mind to hire a vagabond doctor, that is 
 to be sold at a good round ])rice. But here is one that 
 will bid for you ; whether you are a merchantable com- 
 modity or not, and what you are worth, we shall see by 
 and by. You say, " the parricides assert, that the go- 
 vernment of England is not merely kingly, but that it 
 is a mixed government." Sir Thomas Smith, a coun- 
 tryman of ours in Edward the Sixth's days, a good 
 lawyer, and a statesman, one whom j'ou yourself will 
 not call a parricide, in the beginning of a book which 
 be wrote " of tlie commonwealth of England," asserts 
 the same thing, and not of our government only, but 
 of almost all others in the world, and that out of Aris- 
 totle ; and he says it is not possible, that any govern- 
 ment should otherwise subsist. But as if you thought 
 it a crime to say any thing, and not unsay it again, 
 you repeat your former threadbare contradictions. You 
 say, " there neither is nor ever was any nation, that did 
 not understand by the very name of a king, a person 
 whose authority is infcriour to God alone, and who is 
 accountable to no other." And yet a little after you 
 confess, " that the name of a king was formerly given 
 to such powers and magistrates, as had not a full and 
 absolute right of themselves, but had a dependence 
 upon the people, as the suffetes among the Carthagini- 
 ans, the Hebrew judges, the kings of the Lacedemo- 
 nians, and of Arragon." Are you not very consistent 
 with yourself? Then you reckon up five several sorts 
 of monarchies out of Aristotle ; in one of which only 
 that right obtained, which you say is common to all 
 kings. Concerning which I have said already more 
 than once, that neither doth Aristotle give an instance 
 of any such monarchy, nor was there ever any such in 
 being : the other four he clearly demonstrates that they 
 were bounded by established laws, and the king's 
 power subject to those laws. The first of which four 
 was that of the Lacedemonians, which in his opinion 
 did of all others best deserve the name of a kingdom. 
 The second was such as obtained among barbarians, 
 
 . * St. Lon, in Latin, Sanctun Lnput, Saint Wolf, Is the name of a plare 
 in 1' ranee, wtiere SMma»ius had some small eslatr, »tui was i ailed so 
 
 which was lasting, because regulated by laws, and be- 
 cause the people willingly submitted to it; whereas 
 by the same author's opinion in his third book, what 
 king soever retains the sovereignty against the peo- 
 ple's will, is no longer to be accounted a king, but a 
 downright tyrant ; all which is true likewise of his 
 thin! sort of kings, which he calls .^symnetes, who 
 were chosen by the people, and most commonly for a 
 certain time only, and for some particular purposes, 
 such as the Roman dictators were. The fourth sort lie 
 makes of such as reigned in the hcroical days, upon 
 whom for their extraordinary merits the people of their 
 own accord conferred the government, but yet bounded 
 l)y laws ; nor could these retain the sovereignty against 
 the will of the people ; nordo these four sorts of kingly 
 governments differ, he says, from tyranny in any thing 
 else, but only in that these governments are with the 
 good liking of the people, and that against their will. 
 The fifth sort of kingly government, which he calls 
 iran^aa'CKua, or absolute monarchy, in which the su- 
 preme power resides in the king's person, which you 
 pretend to be tiie right of all kings, is utterly con- 
 demned by the philosopher, as neither for the good of 
 mankind, nor consonant to justice or nature, unless 
 some people should be content to live under such a go- 
 vernment, and withal confer it upon such as excel all 
 others in virtue. These things any man may read iit 
 the third book of his Politics. But you, I believe, that 
 once in your life you might appear witty and florid, 
 pleased yourself with making a comparison " betwixt 
 these five sorts of kingly government, and the five 
 zones of the world ; betwixt the two extremes of kingly 
 power, there are three more temperate species interposed, 
 as there lie three zones betwixt the ton-id and the fri- 
 gid." Pretty rogue ! what ingenious comparisons he 
 always makes us ! may you for ever be banished whi- 
 ther you youi-self condemn an absolute kingdom to be, 
 that is, to the frigid zone, which when you are there,- 
 will be doubly cold to what it was before. In the 
 mean while we shall expect that new-fashioned sphen 
 which you describe, from you our modern ArchimedeSj 
 in which there shall be two extreme zones, one torrid,| 
 and the other frigid, and three temperate ones lying 
 betwixt. " The kings of the Lacedemonians, you say, 
 might lawfully be imprisoned, but it was not lawful to 
 put them to death." Why not ? Because the minis 
 tei"s of justice, and some foreign soldiers, being sur* 
 prised at the novelty of the thing, thought it not law- 
 ful to lead Agis to his execution, though condemned 
 to die? And the people of Lacedemon were displeased 
 at his death, not because condemned to die, though i 
 king, but because he was a good man and popular, 
 and had been circumvented by a faction of the grea 
 ones. Says Plutarch, " Agis was the fii"st king, tha 
 was put to death by the ephori;" in which words be 
 does not pretend to tell us what lawfully might \a 
 done, but what actually was done. For to imagine ths 
 such as may lawfully accuse a king, and imprison him^ 
 may not also lawfully put him to death, is a childisi 
 
 from St. Lupus, a German bishop, who with St. German rame over inti 
 Kngland, Anno Dom. 4C9 ( 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 393 
 
 conceit. At last you betake yourself to give an ac- 
 count of the riglit of English kings. " There uever 
 was," you say, " but one king in England." This you 
 say, because you had said before, " unless a king be 
 sole in the government, he cannot be a king." Which 
 if it be true, some of them, who I had thought had been 
 kings of England, were not really so ; for to omit 
 many of our Saxon kings, who had either their sons 
 or tlieir brothers partners with them in the government, 
 it is known that King Henry II, of the Norman race, 
 reigned together with Ids son. " Let them shew," say 
 you, " a precedent of any kingdom under the govern- 
 ment of a single person, who has not an absolute power: 
 though in some kingdoms more remiss, in others more 
 intense." Do you shew any power that is absolute, 
 and yet remiss, you ass ? is not that power that is ab- 
 solute, the supreme power of all ? How can it then be 
 both supreme and remiss ? Whatsoever kings you shall 
 acknowledge to be invested with a remiss (or a less) 
 power, those I will easily make appear to have no ab- - 
 solute power; and consequently to be inferiour to a 
 people, free by nature, who is both its own lawgiver, 
 and can make the regal power more or less intense or 
 remiss ; that is, greater or less. Whether the whole 
 island of Britain was anciently governed by kings, or 
 DO, is uncertain. It is most likely, that the form of 
 their government changed according to the exigencies 
 of the times. Whence Tacitus says, " the Britains 
 anciently were under kings ; now the great men amongst 
 them divide them into parties and factions." When the 
 Romans left them, they were about forty years without 
 kings ; they were not always therefore under a kingly 
 government, as you say they were. But when they 
 were so, that the kingdom was hereditary, I positively 
 deny; which that it was not, is evident both from the 
 series of their kings, and their way of creating them; 
 for the consent of the people is asked in exj)ress words. 
 When the king has taken the accustomed oath, the 
 archbishop stepping to every side of the stage erected 
 for that purpose, asks the people four several times in 
 these words, " Do you consent to have this man to be 
 your king?" Just as if he spoke to them in the Roman 
 style, Vultis, Jubetis hunc Regnare ? " Is it your plea- 
 sure, do you appoint this man to reign .-'" Which would 
 be needless, if the kingdom were by the law hereditary. 
 But with kings, usurpation passes very frequently for 
 law and right. You go about to ground Charles's 
 right to the crown, who was so often conquered himself, 
 upon the right of conquest. William, surnamed the 
 conqueror, forsooth, subdued us. But they who are 
 not strangers to our history, know full well, that the 
 strength of the English nation was not so broken in 
 that one fight at Hastings, but that they might easily 
 have renewed the war. But they chose rather to ac- 
 cept of a king, than to be under a conqueror and a ty- 
 rant : they swear therefore to William, to be his liege- 
 men, and he sweare to them at the altar, to carry him- 
 self towards them as a good king ought to do in all 
 respects. When he broke his word, and the English 
 betook themselves again to their arms, being diffident 
 of his strength, he renewed his oath upon the Holy 
 
 Evangelists, to observe the ancient laws of England. 
 And therefore, if after that he miserably oppressed the 
 English, (as you say he did,) he did it not by right of 
 conquest, but by right of perjury. Besides, it is cer- 
 tain, that many ages ago, the conquerors and conquer- 
 ed coalesced into one and the same people : so that 
 that right of conquest, if any such ever were, must 
 needs have been antiquated long ago. His own words 
 at his death, which I give you out of a French manu- 
 script written at Caen, put all out of doubt, " I appoint 
 no man (says he) to inherit the kingdom of England." 
 By which words, both his pretended right of conquest, 
 and the hereditary right, were disclaimed at his death, 
 and buried together with him. I see now that you have 
 gotten a place at court, as I foretold you would ; you 
 are made the king's chief treasurer and steward of his 
 court craft : and what follows, you seem to write ex 
 officio, as by virtue of your office, magnificent Sir. " If 
 any preceding kings, being thereunto compelled by 
 factions of great men, or seditions amongst the com- 
 mon people, have receded in some measure from their 
 right, that cannot prejudice the successor; but that he 
 is at liberty to resume it." You say well ; if therefore 
 at any time our ancestoi-s have through neglect lost 
 any thing that was their right, why should that pre- 
 judice us their posterity ? If they would promise for 
 themselves to become slaves, they could make no such 
 promise for us ; who shall always retain the same right 
 of delivering ourselves out of slavery, that they had of 
 enslaving themselves to any whomsoever. You won- 
 der how it comes to pass that a king of Great Britain 
 must now-a-days be looked upon as one of the magis- 
 trates of the kingdom only ; whereas in all other kingly 
 governments in Christendom, kings are invested with 
 a free and absolute authority. For the Scots, I remit 
 you to Buchanan : for France, your own native coun- 
 try, to which you seem to be a stranger, to Hottoman's 
 Franco-Gallia, and Girardus a French historian: for 
 the rest, to other authors, of whom none that I know 
 of were Independants : out of whom you might have 
 learned a quite other lesson concerning the right of 
 kings, than what you teach. Not being able to prove, 
 that a tyrannical power belongs to the kings of Eng- 
 land by right of conquest, you try now to do it by 
 right of perjury. Kings profess themselves to reign 
 " by the grace of God : " what if they had professed 
 themselves to be gods .'* I believe if they had, you* 
 might easily have been brought to become one of their 
 priests. So the archbishops of Canterbury pretended 
 to archbishop it by " Divine Providence." Are you 
 such a fool, as to deny the pope's being a king in the 
 church, that you may make the king greater than a 
 pope in tlie state ? But in the statutes of the realm the 
 king is called our Lord. You are become of a sudden 
 a wonderful Nomenclator of our statutes : but you 
 know not that many are called lords and masters who 
 are not really so : you know not how unreasonable a 
 thing it is to judge of truth and right by titles of ho- 
 nour, not to say of flattery. Make the same inference, 
 if you will, from the parliament's being called the 
 king's parliament ; for it is called the king's bridle too, 
 
394 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 or a bridle to the kiug : and therefore the kin^ is no 
 more lord or master of his parliament, than a horse is 
 of his bridle. But why not the king's parliament, 
 since the king "summons them?" I will tell you 
 why ; because the consuls used to indict a meeting of 
 the senate, yet were they not lords over that council. 
 When the king therefore summons or calls together a 
 parliament, he does it by virtue and in discharge of 
 that office, which he has received from the people, that 
 he may advise with them about the weighty affairs of 
 the kingdom, not his own particular affairs. Or when 
 at any time the parliament debated of the king's own 
 affairs, if any could properly be called his own, they 
 were always the last things they did ; and it was in 
 their choice when to debate of them, and whether at 
 all or no, and depended not upon tlie king's pleasure. 
 And they whom it concerns to know this, know very 
 well, that parliaments anciently, whether summoned 
 or not, might by law meet twice a year : but the laws 
 are called too, " the king's laws." These are flattering 
 ascriptions ; a king of England can of himself make no 
 law ; for he was not constituted to make laws, but to 
 see those laws kept, which the people made. And you 
 yourself here confess, that " parliaments meet to make 
 laws;" wherefore the law is also called the law of the 
 land, and the people's law. Whence King Ethelstane 
 in the preface to his laws, speaking to all the people, 
 " I have granted you every thing," says he, " by your 
 own law." And in the form of the oath, which the 
 kings of England used to take before they were made 
 kings, the people stipulate with them thus ; " Will you 
 grant those just laws, which the people shall choose?" 
 The king answers, " I will." And you are infinitely 
 mistaken in saying, that " when there is no parliament 
 sitting, the king governs the whole state of the king- 
 dom, to all intents and purposes, by a regal power." 
 For he can determine nothing of any moment, with 
 respect to either peace or war : nor can he put any stop 
 to the proceedings of the courts of justice. And the 
 judges therefore swear, that they will do nothing ju- 
 dicially, but according to law, though the king by 
 word, or mandate, or letters under his own seal, should 
 command the contrary. Hence it is that the king is 
 often said in our law to be an infant ; and to possess 
 his rights and dignities, as a child or a ward does his : 
 see the Mirror, Cap. 4. Sect. 22. And hence is that 
 common saying amongst us, that " the king can do no 
 wrong:" which you, like a rascal, interpret thus, 
 " Whatever the king does, is no injury, because he is 
 not liable to be punished for it." By this very com- 
 ment, if there were nothing else, the wonderful impu- 
 dence and villany of this fellow discovers itself suffi- 
 ciently. " It belongs to the head," you say, " to com- 
 mand, and not to the members : the king is the head of 
 the parliament." You would not trifle thus, if you had 
 any guts in your brains. You are mistaken again 
 (but there is no end of your mistakes) in not distin- 
 guishing the king's counsellors from the states of the 
 realm: for neither ought he to make choice of all of 
 them, nor of any of them, which the rest do not ap- 
 prove of; but for electing any member of the house of 
 
 commons, he never so much as pretended to it. Whom 
 the people appointed to that service, they were seve- 
 rally chosen by the votes of all the people in their re- 
 spective cities, towns, and counties. I speak now of 
 things universally known, and therefore I am the 
 shorter. But you say, " it is false that the parliament 
 was instituted by the people, as the worshippers of 
 saint Independency assert." Now I see why you took 
 so much pains in endeavouring to subvert the papacy; 
 you carry another pope in your belly, as we say. For 
 what else should you be in labour of, the wife of a 
 woman, a he-wolf, impregnated by a she-wolf, but i 
 either a monster, or some new sort of papacy ? You ' 
 now make he-saints and she-saints, at your pleasure, 
 as if you were a true genuine pope. You absolve kings 
 of all their sins, and as if you had utterly vanquished 
 and subdued yourantagonist the pope, you adorn your- 
 self with his spoils. But because you have not yet , 
 profligated the pope quite, till the second and third, and j 
 perhaps the fourth and fifth part of your book of hissu- ' 
 premacy come out, which book will nauseate a great 
 many readers to death, sooner than you will get the 
 better of the pope by it; let it suffice you in the mean 
 time, I beseech you, to become some antipope or other. 
 There is another she-saint, besides that Indepen- 
 dency that you deride, which you have canonized in 
 good earnest ; and that is, the tyranny of kings : you 
 shall therefore by my consent be the high piiest of 
 tyranny ; and that you may have all the pope's titles, 
 3'ou shall be a " servant of the servants," not of God, 
 but of the court. For that curse pronounced upon Ca- 
 naan seems to stick as close to you, as your shirt. You 
 call the people " a beast." What are you then your- 
 self? For neither can that sacred consistory, nor your 
 lordship of St. Lou, exempt you its master from being 
 one of the people, nay, of the common people ; nor 
 can make you other than what you really are, a most 
 loathsome beast. Indeed, the writings of the prophets 
 shadow out to us the monarchy and dominion of great 
 kings by the name, and under the resemblance, of a 
 great beast. You say, that " there is no mention of 
 parliaments held under our kings, that reigned before 
 William the Conqueror." It is not worth while to jan- 
 gle about a French word : the thing was always in 
 being ; and you yourself allow that in Saxon times. 
 Concilia Sapientum, Wittena-gemots, are mentioned. 
 And there are wise men among the body of the peo- 
 ple, as well as amongst the nobility. But "in the 
 statute of Merton made in the tvventieth year of King 
 Henry the third, the earls and barons are only named." 
 Thus you are always imposed upon by words, who 
 yet have spent your whole life in nothing else but 
 words ; for we know very well that in that age, not 
 only the guardians of the cinque-ports, and magistrates 
 of cities, but even tradesmen are sometimes called ba- 
 rons; and without doubt, they might much more rea- 
 sonably call every member of parliament, though never 
 so much a commoner, by the name of haron. For that in 
 the fifty-second year of the same king's reign, the com- 
 moners as well as the lords were summoned, the statute 
 of Marlbridgc, and most other statutes, declare in ex- 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 395 
 
 press words; which commoners King Edward the third, 
 in the preface to the statute-staple, calls, " Magnates 
 Comitatuni, the great men of the counties," as you 
 very learnedly quote it for me ; those to wit, " that 
 came out of several counties, and served for them ;" 
 which number of men constituted the house of com- 
 mons, and neither were lords, nor could be. Besides, 
 a book more ancient than those statutes, called, " Mo- 
 dus habendi Parliamenta, i. e. the manner of holding 
 parliaments," tells us, that the king and the commons 
 ) may hold a parliament, and enact laws, though the 
 I lords, the bishops are absent ; but that with the lords, 
 j and the bishops, in the absence of the commons, no 
 parliament can be held. And there is a reason given 
 for it, viz. because kings held parliaments and councils 
 with their people before any lords or bishops were 
 made ; besides, the lords serve for themselves only, the 
 commons each for the county, city, or borough that 
 sent them. And that therefore the commons in parlia- 
 ment represent the whole body of the nation ; in which 
 respect they are more worthy, and every way prefer- 
 able to the house of peers. " But the power of Judi- 
 cature," you say, "never was invested in the house of 
 commons." Nor was the king ever possessed of it: 
 remember though, that originally all power proceeded, 
 and yet does proceed, from the people. Which Marcus 
 Tullius excellently well shews in his oration, " De 
 lege Agraria, of the Agrarian law :" " As all powers, 
 authorities, and public administrations ought to be 
 derived from the whole body of the people; so those 
 of them ougiit in an especial manner so to be de- 
 rived, which are ordained and appointed for the com- 
 mon benefit and interest of all, to which employments 
 every particular person may both give his vote for the 
 choosing such persons, as he thinks will take most care 
 of the public, and withal by voting and making inter- 
 est for them, lay such obligations upon them, as may 
 entitle them to their friendship and good offices in 
 time to come." Here you see the true rise and original 
 of parliaments, and that it was much ancienter than 
 the Saxon chronicles. Whilst we may dwell in such 
 a light of truth and wisdom, as Cicero's age afforded, 
 you labour in vain to blind us with the darkness of 
 obscurer times. By the saying whereof I would not 
 be understood to derogate in the least from the autho- 
 rity and prudence of our ancestors, who most certainly 
 went further in the enacting of good laws, than either 
 the ages they lived in, or their own learning or educa- 
 tion seem to have been capable of; and though some- 
 times the}' made laws that were none of tlie best, yet 
 as being conscious to themselves of the ignorance and 
 infirmity of human nature, they have conveyed this 
 doctrine down to posterity, as the foundation of all laws, 
 which likewise all our lawyei-s admit, that if any law, 
 or custom, be contrary to the law of God, of nature, or 
 of reason, it ought to be looked upon as null and void. 
 Whence it follows, that though it were possible for you 
 to discover any statute, or other public sanction, which 
 ascribed to the king a tyrannical power, since that 
 would be repugnant to the will of God, to nature and 
 to right reason, you may learn from that general I 
 
 and primary law of ours, which I have just now 
 quoted, that it will be null and void. But you will 
 never be able to find, that any such right of kings has 
 the least foundation in our law. Since it is plain 
 therefore, that the power of judicature was originally 
 in the people themselves, and that the people never 
 did by any royal law part with it to the king, (for the 
 kings of England neither used to judge any man, nor 
 can by the law do it, otherwise than according to laws 
 settled and agreed to : Fleta, Book I. Cap. 17.) it fol- 
 lows, that this power remains yet whole and entire in 
 the people themselves. For that it was either never 
 committed to the house of peers, or if it were, that it 
 may lawfully be taken from them again, you yourself 
 will not deny. But, " It is in the king's power," you 
 say, "to make a village into a borough, and that into 
 a city ; and consequently, the king does in effect cre- 
 ate those that constitute the Commons House of Par- 
 liament." But, I say, that even towns and boroughs 
 are more ancient than kings ; and that the people is 
 the people, though they should live in the open fields. 
 And now we are extremely well pleased with your 
 Anglicisms, COUNTY COURT, THE TURNE, 
 HUNDREDA: You have quickly learnt to count 
 your hundred Jacobusses in English. 
 
 Qiiii eipfdhit Salmasio suam HUNDREDAM? 
 Picamque docttit verba vostra conari ? 
 Miigister aytis venter, et Jacohtci 
 Centum, exnlantis viscera marsupii Reg'n 
 Qniyd $i dolosi spet refuUerit nummi. 
 Ipse Aiiticliristi modo qui Primatum Papa 
 Miiiatus uno est dissipare sufflatu, 
 Cantabit nltrb Cardinalitium tnelos. 
 
 Who taught Salmasius, that French chatt'ring pie, 
 To aim at English, and HUNDREDA cry? 
 'Ihe starving rascal, flush'd with just a Hundred 
 English Jacobusses, HUNDREDA blunder'd. 
 An outlaw'd king's last stock.— A hundred m> re. 
 Would make him pimp for th' Antichristian whore ; 
 And in Rome's praise employ his poison'd breath. 
 Who threat'ned once to stink the Pope to death. 
 
 The next thing you do is to trouble us with a long 
 discourse of the earls and the barons, to shew that the 
 king made them all ; which we readily grant, and for 
 that reason they were most commonly at the king's 
 beck ; and therefore we have done well to take care, 
 that for the future they shall not be judges of a free 
 people. You affirm, that " the power of calling par- 
 liaments as often as he pleases, and of dissolving them 
 when he pleases, has belonged to the king time out of 
 mind." Whether such a vile, mercenary foreigner as 
 vou, who transcribe vyhat some fugitives dictate to 
 you, or the express letter of our own laws, are more to 
 be credited in this matter, we shall inquire hereafter. 
 But say you, " there is another argument, and an in- 
 vincible one, to prove the power of the kings of Eng- 
 land superior to that of the parliament ; the king's 
 power is perpetual and of course, whereby he adminis- 
 ters the government singly without the parliament ; 
 that of the parliament is extraordinary, or out of course. 
 
396 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND 
 
 and limited to particulars only, nor can they enact any 
 tbing" so as to be bindins>° in luw, without the king." 
 Where does the great force of this arjfumcnt lie? In 
 the words " of course and perpetual ?" \\ by, many 
 inferiour magistrates have an ordinary and perpetual 
 power, those whom wc call justices of the peace. 
 Have they therefore the supreme power? And I have 
 said already, that the king's power is committed to 
 him, to take care, by interposing his authority, that 
 nothing be done contrary to law, and that he may see 
 to the due observation of our laws, not to top his own 
 upon us : and consequently that the king has no power 
 out of his courts ; nay, all the ordinary power is rather 
 the people's, who determine all controversies themselves 
 by juries of twelve men. And hence it is, that when 
 a malefactor is asked at bis arraignment, " How will 
 you be tried ?" he answers always, according to law 
 and custom, " by God and my country ;" not by God 
 and the king, or the king's deputy. But the authority 
 of the parliament, which indeed and in truth is the 
 supreme power of the people committed to that senate, 
 if it may be called extraordinary, it must be by reason 
 of its eminence and superiority ; else it is known they 
 are called ordines, and tlierefore cannot properly be 
 said to be extra ordinem, out of order ; and if not ac- 
 tually, as they say, yet virtually they have a perpetual 
 power and authority over all courts and ordinary 
 magistrates, and that without the king. And now it 
 seems our barbarous terms grate upon your critical ears, 
 forsooth ! whereas, if I had leisure, or that it were 
 worth my while, I could reckon up so many barbarisms 
 of yours in this one book, as, if you were to be chastized 
 for them as you deserve, all the schoolboys' ferulas in 
 Christendom would be broken upon you ; nor would 
 you receive so many pieces of gold as that wretched 
 poet did of old, but a great many more boxes on the 
 ear. You say, " It is a prodigy more monstrous than 
 all the most absurd opinions in the world put together, 
 that the Bedlams should make a distinction betwixt 
 the king's power and his person." I will not quote 
 what every author has said upon this subject ; but if 
 by the words Personam Regis, you mean what we call 
 in English, the person of the king; Chrysostom, who 
 was no Bedlam, might have taught you, that it is no 
 absurd thing to make a distinction betwixt that and 
 his power; for that further explains the apostle's com- 
 mand of being subject to the higher powers, to be meant 
 of the thing, the power itself, and not of the persons 
 of the magistrates. And why may not I say that a 
 king, who acts any thing contrary to law, acts so far 
 forth as a private person, or a tyrant, and not in the 
 capacity of a king invested with a legal authority ? If 
 3'ou do not know, that there may he in one and the 
 same man more persons or capacities than one, and 
 that those capacities may in thought and conception 
 be severed from the man himself, you are altogether 
 ignorant both of Latin and common sense. But this 
 you say to absolve kings from all sin and guilt ; and 
 that you may make us believe, that you are gotten into 
 the chair yourself, which you have pulled the pope out 
 of. " Tlie king," you say, " is supposed not capable 
 
 of committing any crime, because no punishment is 
 consequentiul upon any crime of his." Whoever there- 
 fore is not punished, offends not ; it is not the theft, 
 hut the punishment, that makes the thief Salmasius 
 the Grammarian commits no solecisms now, because 
 he is from under the ferula ; when you have overthrown 
 the pope, let these, for God's sake, be the canons of 
 your pontificate, or at least your indulgencics, whether 
 you shall choose to be called the high priest St. Tyran- 
 ny, or St. Slavery. I pass by the reproachful language, 
 which towards the latter end of the chapter you give 
 the state of the commonwealth, and the church of 
 England ; it is common to such as you are, you con- 
 temptible varlet, to rail at tliose things most that are 
 most praiseworthy. But that I may not seem to have 
 asserted any thing rashly concerning the right of the 
 kings of England, or rather concerning the people's 
 right with respect to their princes ; I will now allege 
 out of our ancient histories a few things indeed of 
 many, but such as will make it evident, that the Eng- 
 lish lately tried their king according to the settled laws 
 of the realm, and the customs of their ancestors. After 
 the Romans quitted this island, the Britains for about 
 forty years were sui juris, and without any kings at 
 all. Of whom those they first set up, some they put 
 to death. And for that, Gildas reprehends them, not 
 as you do, for killing their kings, but for killing them 
 uncondemned, and (to use his own words) " non pro 
 veri examinatione," without inquiring into the matter 
 of fact. Vortigern was for his incestuous marriage 
 with his own daughter condemned (as Nennius informs 
 us, the most ancient of all our historians next to Gil- 
 das) by St. German, " and a general council of the 
 Britains," and his son Vortimer set up in his stead. 
 Tliis came to pass not long after St. Augustine's death, 
 which is enough to discover how futilous you are, i 
 say, as you have done, that it was a Pope, and Zachai v 
 by name, who first held the lawfulness of judging 
 kings. About the year of our Lord 600, Morcantius, 
 who then reigned in Wales, was by Oudeceus, bishop 
 of LlandaflT, condemned to exile, for the murder of his 
 uncle, though he got the sentence off by bestowing 
 some lands upon the church. Come we now to the 
 Saxons, whose laws we have, and therefore I shall quote 
 none of their precedents. Remember, that the Saxons 
 were of a German extract, who never invested their 
 kings with any absolute, unlimited power, but consult- 
 ed in a body of the more weighty affairs of govern- 
 ment; whence we may perceive, that in the time of our 
 Saxon ancestors parliaments (the name itself only ev 
 cepted) had the supreme authority. The name they gav c 
 them, was " councils of wise men ;" and this in the 
 reign of Ethelbert, of whom Bcde says, " that he made 
 laws in imitation of the Roman laws, cum concilio 
 sapientum ; by the advice, or in a council of his wise 
 men." So Edwin king of Northumberland, and Ina 
 king of the west Saxons, " having consulted with their 
 wise men, and the elders of the people," made new 
 laws. Other laws King Alfred made," by the advice" 
 in like manner of " his wise men ;" and he says himself, 
 " that it was by the consent of them all, that they were 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 397 
 
 commanded to be observed." From tbese and many 
 other like places, it is as clear as the sun, that chosen 
 men even from amongst the common people, were mem- 
 bers of the supreme councils, unless we must believe, 
 that no men are wise but the nobility. We have like- 
 w ise a very ancient book, called the " Mirror of Jus- 
 tice,'' in which we are told, that the Saxons, when they 
 first subdued the Britains, and chose themselves king's, 
 required an oath of them, to submit to the judgment of 
 the law, as much as any of their subjects. Cap. 1. Sect. 
 2. In the same place it is said, that it is but just that 
 the king have bis peers in parliament, to take cogni- 
 zance of wrongs done by the king, or the queen ; and 
 that there was a law made in King Alfred's time, 
 that parliaments should be holden twice a year at Lon- 
 don, or oftener, if need were : which law, when through 
 neglect it grew into disuse, was revived by two statutes 
 in King Edward the Third's time. And in another an- 
 cient manuscript, called " Modus tenendi Parliamenta," 
 we read thus, " If the king was summoned, he is guilty 
 of perjury ; and shall be reputed to have broken his 
 coronation oath." For how can he be said to grant 
 those good Jaws, which the people choose, as he is swoni 
 to do, if he hinders the people from choosing them, 
 either by summoning parliaments scldomer, or by dis- 
 solving them sooner, than the public affairs require, or 
 admit ? And that oath which the kings of England 
 take at their coronation, has always been looked upon 
 by our lawyers as a most sacred law. And what re- 
 medy can be found to obviate the great dangers of the 
 whole state, (which is the very end of summoning par- 
 liaments,) if that great and august assembly may be 
 dissolved at the pleasure many time of a silly, head- 
 strong king ? To absent himself from them, is certainly 
 less than to dissolve them ; and yet by our laws, as 
 that Modus lays them down, the king neither can nor 
 ought to absent himself from his parliament, unless he 
 be really indisposed in health ; nor then neither, till 
 twelve of the peers have been with him to inspect his 
 body, and give the parliament an account of his indis- 
 position. Is this like the carriage of servants to a 
 master ? On tlic other hand the house of commons, 
 without whom there can be no parliament held, though 
 summoned by the king, may withdraw, and having 
 made a secession, expostulate with the king concerning 
 malead ministration, as the same book has it. But, 
 which is the greatest thing of all, amongst the laws of 
 King Edward, commonly called the Confessor, there 
 is one very excellent, relating to the kingly office ; 
 which office, if the king do not discharge as he ought, 
 then, says the law, " he shall not retain so much as the 
 name of a king." And lest these words should not be 
 sufficiently understood, the example of Chilperic king 
 of France is subjoined, whom the people for that cause 
 j deposed. And that by this law a wicked king is liable 
 to punishment, that sword of King Edward, called 
 Curtana, denotes to us, which the earl of Chester used 
 to carry in the solemn procession at a coronation ; " a 
 token," says Matthew Paris, " that he has authority 
 by law to punish the king, if he will not do his duty :" 
 and the sword is hardly ever made use of but in capital 
 
 punishments. This same law, together with other laws 
 of that good King Edward, did William the Conqueror 
 ratify in the fourth year of his reign, and in a very full 
 council held at Verulam, confirmed it with a most so- 
 lemn oath : and by so doing, he not only extinguished 
 bis right of conquest, if he ever had any over us, but 
 subjected himself to be judged according to the tenour 
 of this very law. And his son Henry swore to the ob- 
 servance of King Edward's laws, and of this amongst 
 the rest ; and upon those only terms it was that he 
 was chosen king, while his elder brother Robert was 
 alive. The same oath was taken by all succeeding 
 kings, before they were crowned. Hence our ancient 
 and famous lawyer Bracton, in his first book, Chap, 
 viii, " There is no king in the case," says he, " where 
 will rules the roast, and law does not take place." 
 And in his third book. Chap, ix, " A king is a king so 
 long as he rules well ; he becomes a tyrant when he 
 oppresses the people committed to his charge." And 
 in the same chapter, " The king ought to use the power 
 of law and right as God's minister and vicegerent ; 
 the power of wrong is the Devil's, and not God's ; 
 when the king turns aside to do injustice, he is the 
 minister of the Devil." The very same words almost 
 another ancient lawyer has, who was the author of the 
 book called " Fleta ;" both of them remembered that 
 truly royal law of King Edward, that fundamental 
 maxim in our law, which I have formerly mentioned, 
 by which nothing is to be accounted a law, th:U is con- 
 trary to the laws of God, or of reason ; no more than a 
 tyrant can be said, to be a king, or a minister of the 
 Devil a minister of God. Since therefore the law is 
 chiefly right reason, if we are bound to obey a king, 
 and a minister of God ; by the very same reason, and 
 the very same law, we ought to resist a tyrant, and a 
 minister of the Devil. And because controversies arise 
 oftener about names than things, the same authors tell 
 us, that a king of England, though he have not lost 
 the name of a king, yet is as liable to be judged, and 
 ought so to be, as any of the common people. Bracton, 
 Book I. Chap, viii ; FleU, Book I. Chap, xvii ; " No 
 man ought to be greater than the king in the admini- 
 stration of justice; but he himself ought to be as little 
 as the least in receiving justice, si peccat, if he offend." 
 Others read it, si petat. Since our kings therefore are 
 liable to be judged, whether by the name of tyrants, 
 or of kings, it must not be difficult to assign their legal 
 judges. Nor will it be amiss to consult the same authore 
 upon that point. Bracton, Book I. Chap, xvi ; Fleta, 
 Book I. Chap. 17 ; " The king has his superiours in 
 the government ; the law, by which he is made king ; 
 and his court, to wit, the earls, and the barons : comites 
 (earls) are as much as to say, companions ; and he 
 that has a companion, has a master; and therefore, if 
 the king will be without a bridle, that is, not govern 
 by law, they ought to bridle him." That the commons 
 are comprehended in the word barons, has been shewn 
 already ; and in the books of our ancient laws they 
 are frequently said to have been called peers of parlia- 
 ment : and especially in the Modus tenendi, &c. " There 
 shall be chosen," says that book, " out of all the peers 
 
398 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 of the realm, five and twenty persons, of whom five 
 shall be knights, five citizens, and five burgesses ; and 
 two knights of a county have a g^-eater vote in grant- 
 ing and rejecting than the greatest earl in England." 
 And it is but reasonable they should, for they vote for 
 a whole county, &c. the earls for themselves only. 
 And who can but perceive, that those patent earls, whom 
 you call earls made by writ, (since we have now none 
 that hold their earldoms by tenure,) are very unfit per- 
 sons to try the king, who conferred their honours upon 
 them ? Since therefore by our law, as appears by that 
 old book, called " the Mirror," the king has his peers, who 
 in parliament have cognizance of wrongs done by the 
 king to any of his people ; and since it is notoriously 
 known, that the meanest man in the kingdom may 
 even in iuferiour courts have the benefit of the law 
 against the king himself, in case of any injury, or 
 wrong sustained ; how much more consonant to justice, 
 how much more necessary is it, that in case the king 
 oppress all his people, there should be such as have 
 authority not only to restrain him, and keep him within 
 bounds, but to judge and punish him ! for that govern- 
 ment must needs be very ill, and most ridiculously 
 constituted, in which remedy is provided in case of 
 little injuries, done by the prince to private persons, 
 and no remedy, no redress for greater, no care taken 
 for the safety of the whole ; no provision made to the 
 contrary, but that the king may, without any law, ruin 
 all his subjects, when at the same time he cannot by 
 law so much as hurt any one of them. And since I 
 have shewn, that it is neither good manners, nor ex- 
 pedient, that the lords should be the king's judges; it 
 follows, that the power of judicature in that case does 
 wholly, and by very good right, belong to the com- 
 mons, who are both peers of the realm, and barons, and 
 have the power and authority of all the people com- 
 mitted to them. For since (as we find it expressly in 
 our written law, which I have already cited) the com- 
 mons together with the king made a good parliament 
 without either lords or bishops, because before either 
 lords or bishops had a being, kings held parliaments 
 with their commons only ; by the very same reason the 
 commons apart must have the sovereign power without 
 the king, and a power of judging the king himself; be- 
 cause before there ever was a king, they in the name of 
 the whole body of the nation held councils and parlia- 
 ments, had the power of judicature, made laws, and 
 made the kings themselves, not to lord it over the peo- 
 ple, but to adiiiiuister their public affairs. Whom if 
 the king, instead of so doing, shall endeavour to injure 
 and oppress, our law pronounces him fi"om time for- 
 ward not so much as to retain the name of a king, to 
 be no such thing as a king: and if he be no king, 
 what need we trouble ourselves to find out peers for 
 him ? For being then by all good men adjudged to 
 be a tyrant, there are none but who are peers good 
 enough for him, and proper enough to pronounce sen- 
 tence of death upon him judicially. These things being 
 so, I think I have sufficiently proved what I undertook, 
 by many authorities, and written laws; to wit, that 
 since the commons have authority by very good right 
 
 to try tlie king, and since they have actually tried him, 
 and put him to death, for the mischief he had done 
 both in church and state, and without all hope of 
 amendment, they have done nothing therein but what 
 was just and regular, for the interest of the state, in 
 discharging of their trust, becoming their dignity, and 
 according to the laws of the land. And I cannot upuu 
 this occasion, but congratulate myself with the honour 
 of having had such ancestors, who founded this go- 
 vernment with no less prudence, and in as much liberty 
 as the most worthy of the ancient Romans or Grecians 
 ever founded any of theirs: and they must needs, if 
 they have any knowledge of our aflTairs, rejoice over 
 their posterity, who when they were almost reduced 
 to slavery, yet with so much wisdom and courage vin- 
 dicated and asserted the state, which they so wisely 
 founded upon so much liberty, from the unruly govern- 
 ment of a king. 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 I THINK by this time it is sufficiently evident, that 
 kings of England may be judged even by the laws of 
 England ; and that they have their proper judges, 
 which was the thing to be proved. What do you do 
 further? (for whereas you repeat many things that you 
 have said before, I do not intend to repeat the answers 
 that I have given them). " It is an easy thing to tl 
 monstrate, even from the nature of the things for whicii 
 parliaments are summoned, that the king is above the 
 parliament. The parliament (you say) is wont to be 
 assembled upon weighty afl'^airs, such as wherein tin: 
 safety of the kingdom and of the people is concerned 
 If therefore the king call parliaments together, not iw. 
 his own concerns, but those of the nation, nor to settle 
 those neither, but by their own consent, at their own 
 discretion, what is he more than a minister, and as it 
 were an agent for the people ? since without their suf- 
 frages that are chosen by the people, he cannot exact, 
 the least thing whatsoever, cither with relation to him-| 
 self, or any body else .*' Which proves likewise, thaW 
 it is the king's duty to call parliaments whenever theJ 
 people desire it ; since the people's and not the king's 
 concerns are to be treated of by that assembly, and to 
 be ordered as they see cause. For although the kin^ 
 assent be required for fashion sake, which in Icssl. 
 matters, that concerned the welfare of private persons 
 only, he might refuse, and use (hat form, " the king 
 will advise;" yet in those greater afl^airs, that con- 
 cerned the public safety, and liberty of the people in 
 general, he had no negative voice : for it would have 
 been against his coronation oath to deny his assent in 
 such cases, which was as binding to him as any law 
 could be, and against the chief article of Magna 
 Charta, cap. 29. " We will not deny to any man, nor 
 will we delay to render to every man, ri>>:ht and justice." 
 Shall it not be in the king's power to deny justice, and 
 shall it be in his power to deny the enacting of just 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 399 
 
 laws? Could he not deny justice to any particular 
 person, and could lie to all his people ? Could he not 
 do it in inferiour courts, and could he iu the supreme 
 court of all ? Or, can any king' be so arrogant as to 
 pretend to know what is just and profitable better than 
 the whole body of the people? Especially, since " he 
 is created and chosen for this very end and purpose, to 
 do justice to all," as Bracton says, lib, iii. c. 9, that is, 
 to do justice according to such laws as the people 
 agree upon. Hence is what we find in our records, 
 j7 H. IV. Rott. Pari. num. 59, the king^ has no pre- 
 jrogative, that derogates from justice and equity. And 
 iformerly when kings have refused to confirm acts of 
 parliament, to wit, Magna Charta and some others, our 
 ancestors have brought them to it by force of arms. And 
 yet our lawyers never were of opinion, that those laws 
 were less valid, or less binding, since the king- was 
 forced to assent to no more than what he ought in jus- 
 tice to have assented to voluntarily, and without con- 
 straint. VVhilst you go about to prove that king's of 
 other nations have been as much under the power 
 of their senates or councils, as our kings were, you do 
 not argue us into slavery, but them into liberty. In 
 which you do but that over again, that you have from 
 the very beginning of your discourse, and which 
 some silly Leguleians now and then do, to argue un- 
 awares aifainst their own clients. But you say, 
 " We confess that the king, wherever he be, yet is 
 supposed still to be present in his parliament by virtue 
 of his power; insomuch, that whatever is transacted 
 there, is supposed to be done by the king himself:" 
 and then as if you had got some pretty bribe or small 
 morsel, and tickled with the remembrance of your 
 pui*se of gold, " we take," say you, " what they give 
 us ;" and take a halter then, for I am sure you deserve 
 it. But we do not give it for granted, which is the 
 thing you thought would follow from thence, " that 
 therefore that court acts only by virtue of a deleg-atod 
 power from the king." For when we say, that the regal 
 power, be it what it will, cannot be absent from the 
 parliament, do we thereby acknowledge that power to 
 be supreme ? Does not the king's authority seem rather 
 to be transferred to the parliament, and, as being the 
 lesser of the two, to be comprised in the greater ? Cer- 
 tainly, if the parliament may rescind the king's acts 
 whether he will or no, and revoke privileges granted 
 by him, to whomsoever they be granted : if they may 
 set bounds to his prerogative, as they see cause ; if they 
 may regulate his yearly revenue, and the expenses of 
 his court, his retinue, and generally all the concerns of 
 his household ; if they may remove his most intimate 
 friends and counsellors, and, as it were, pluck them out 
 of his bosom, and bring them to condign punishment; 
 finally, if any subject may by law appeal from the 
 king to the parliament, (all which things, that they 
 may lawfully be done, and have been frequently prac- 
 tised, both our histories and records, and the most 
 eminent of our lawyers, assure us,) I suppose no man 
 in his right wits will deny the authority of the parlia- 
 ment to be superiour to that of the king. For even in 
 an interregnum the authority of the parliament is in 
 
 being, and (than which nothing is more common in our 
 histories) they have often made a free choice of a suc- 
 cessor, without any regard to an hereditary descent. 
 In short, the parliament is the supreme council of the 
 nation, constituted and appointed by a most free people, 
 and armed with ample power and authority, for this 
 end and purpose; viz. to consult together upon the 
 most weighty aflfairs of the kingdom; the king was 
 created to put their laws in execution. Which thing 
 after the parliament themselves had declared in a public 
 edict, (for such is the justice of their proceedings, that 
 of their own accord they have been willing to give a?i 
 account of their actions to other nations,) is it not pro- 
 digious, that such a pitiful follow as you are, a man of 
 no authority, of no credit, of no figure in the world, a 
 mere Burgundian slave, should have the impudence to 
 accuse the parliament of England, asserting by a public 
 instrument their own and their country's right, " of a 
 detestable and horrid imposture ?" Your country may 
 be ashamed, you rascal, to have brought forth a little 
 inconsiderable fellow of such profligate impudence. 
 But perhaps you have somewhat to tell us, that may be 
 for our good : go on, we will hear you. " What laws," 
 say you, " can a parliament enact, in which the bishops 
 are not present!"' Did you then, you madman, expel 
 the order of bishops out of the church, to introduce them 
 into the state ? O wicked wretch ! w ho ought to be 
 delivered over to Satan, whom the church ought to for- 
 bid her communion, as being a hypocrite, and an 
 atheist, and no civil society of men to acknowledge as 
 a member, being a public enemy, and a plague-sore to 
 the common liberty of mankind ; who, where the 
 gospel fails you, endeavour to prove out of Aristotle, 
 Halicarnasstpus, and then from some popish authorities 
 of the most corrupt ages, that the king of England is 
 the bead of the church of England, to the end that you 
 may, as far as in you lies, bring in the bishops again, 
 his intimates and table-companions, grown so of late, 
 to rob and tyrannize in the church of God, whom God 
 himself has deposed and degraded, whose very order 
 you had heretofore asserted in print that it ought to be 
 rooted out of the world, as destructive of and pernicious 
 to the christian religion. What apostate did ever so 
 shamefully and wickedly desert as this man has done, 
 I do not say his own, which indeed never was any, but 
 the christian doctrine which he had formerly asserted ? 
 " The bishops being put down, who under the king, 
 and by his permission, held plea of ecclesiastical causes, 
 upon whom," say you, " will that jurisdiction de- 
 volve ?" O villain ! have some regard at least to your 
 own conscience ; remember before it be too late, if at 
 least this admonition of mine come not too late, re- 
 member that this mocking the Holy Spirit of God is an 
 inexpiable crime, and will not be left unpunished. 
 Stop at last, and set bounds to your fury, lest the wrath 
 of God lay hold upon you suddenly, for endeavouring 
 to deliver the flock of God, his anointed ones that are 
 not to be touched, to enemies and cruel tyrants, to be 
 crushed and trampled on again, from whom himself by 
 a high and stretched-out arm had so lately delivered 
 them ; and from whom you yourself maintained, that 
 
400 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 they ought to be delivered, I know not whether for 
 any good of theirs, or in order to the hardening of 
 your own heart, and to further your own damnation. 
 If the bishops have no right to lord it over the church, 
 certainly much less have kings, whatever the laws of 
 men may be to the contrary. For they that know any 
 thing of the gospel know thus much, that the govern- 
 ment of the church is altogether divine and spiritual, 
 and no civil constitution. Whereas you say, that " in 
 secular affairs, the kings of England have always had 
 the sovereign power ;" our laws do abundantly' declare 
 that to be false. Our courts of justice are erected and 
 suppressed, not by the king's authority, but that of the 
 parliament ; and yet in any of them, the meanest sub- 
 ject might go to law with the king; nor is it a rare 
 thing for the judges to give judgment against him, 
 which if the king should endeavour to obstruct by any 
 prohibition, mandate, or letters, the judges were bound 
 by law, and by their oaths, not to obey him, but to re- 
 ject such inhibitions as null and void in law. The 
 king could not imprison any man, or seize his estate 
 as forfeited ; he could not punish any man, not sum- 
 moned to appear in court, where not the king, but the 
 ordinary judges give sentence ; which they frequently 
 did, as I have said, against the king. Hence our 
 Bracton, lib. 3, cap. 9, " The regal power," says he, 
 " is according to law ; he has no pt)wer to do any 
 wrong, nor can the king do any thing but what the 
 law warrants." Those lawyers that you have consult- 
 ed, men that have lately fled their country, may tell 
 you another tale, and acquaint you with some statutes, 
 not very ancient neither, but made in King Edward IV, 
 King Henry VI, and King Edward Vlth's days ; but 
 they did not consider, that what power soever those 
 statutes gave the king, was conferred upon him by 
 authority of parliament, so that he was beholden to 
 them for it ; and the same power that conferred it, 
 might at pleasure resume it. How comes it to 
 pass, that so acute a disputant as you, should suffer 
 yourself to be imposed upon to that degree, as to 
 make use of that very argument to prove the king's 
 power to be absolute and supreme, than which no- 
 thing proves more clearly, that it is subordinate to 
 that of the parliament? Our records of the greatest 
 authority with us declare, that onr kings owe all 
 their power, not to any right of inheritance, of con- 
 quest, or succession, but to the people. So in the par- 
 liament rolls of King Henry IV, numb. 108, we read, 
 that the kingly office and power was granted by the 
 commons to King Henry IV, and before him, to his 
 predecessor King Richard II, just as kings use to grant 
 commissioners' places and lieutenantships to their de- 
 puties, by edicts and patents. Thus the house of com- 
 mons ordered expressly to be entered upon record, 
 " that they had granted to King Richard to use the 
 same good liberty, that the kings of England before 
 bim bad used:" which because that king abused to 
 the subversion of the laws, and " contrary to bis oath 
 at his coronation," tije same persons, that granted bim 
 that power, took it back again, and deposed him. 'i he 
 same men, as appears by the same record, declared in 
 
 open parliament, " that having confidence in the prn- 
 dence and moderation of King Henry the IVth, they 
 will and enact, that he enjoy the same royal authority 
 that his ancestors enjoyed." Which if it had been any 
 other than in the nature of a trust, as this was, either 
 those houses of parliament were foolish and vain, to 
 give what was none of their own, or those kings that 
 were willing to receive as from them, what was already 
 theira, were too injurious both to themselves and their 
 posterity; neither of which is likely. "A third part 
 of the regal power," say you, " is conversant about tht 
 militia; this the kings of England have used to onli-r 
 and govern, without fellow or competitor." This is as 
 false as all the rest that you have taken upon the cre- 
 dit of fugitives : for in the first place, both our own his- 
 tories, and those of foreigners, that have been any 
 whit exact in the relation of our affairs, declare, that 
 the making of peace and war always did belong to tht- 
 parliament. And the laws of St. Edward, which our 
 kings were bound to swear that they would maintain, 
 make this appear beyond all exception, in the chapter 
 " De Heretochiis," viz. " That there were certain offi- 
 cers appointed in every province and county through- 
 out the kingdom, that were called Heretochs, in Latin, 
 duces, commandei-s of armies, that were to command 
 the forces of the several counties," not for the honour 
 of the crown only, " but for the good of the realm. 
 And they were chosen by the general council, and in 
 the several counties at public assemblies of the inha- 
 bitants, as sheriffs ought to be chosen." Whence it is 
 evident, that the forces of the kingdom, and the com- 
 manders of those forces, were anciently, and ought to 
 be still, not at the king's command, but at the people's; 
 and that this most reasonable and just law obtained in 
 this kingdom of ours, no less than heretofore it did in 
 the commonwealth of the Romans. Concerning which, 
 it will not be amiss to hear what Cicero says, Philip. 1. 
 " All the legions, all the forces of the commonwealth, 
 wheresoever they are, are the people of Rome's ; nor 
 are those legions, that deserted the consul Antonius, 
 said to have been Antony's, but the commonwealth's 
 legions." This very law of St. Edward, together with 
 the rest, did William the Conqueror, at the desire and 
 instance of the people, confirm by oath, and added over 
 and above, cap. 56, " That all cities, boroughs, castles, 
 should be so watched every night, as the sheriffs, the 
 aldermen, and other magistrates, should think meet for 
 the safety of the kingdom." And in the 6th law, 
 "Castles, boroughs, and cities, were first built for the 
 defence of the people, and therefore ought to be main- 
 tained free and entire, by all ways and means." What 
 then ? Shall towns and places of strength in times of 
 peace be guarded against thieves and robbers by com- 
 mon councils of the several places ; and shall they not 
 be defended in dangerous times of war, against both 
 domestic and foreign hostility, by the common council 
 of the whole nation .'' If this be not granted, there can 
 be no freedom, no integrity, no reason, in the guarding 
 of them : nor shall we obtain any of those ends, for 
 which the law itself tells us, that towns and fortresses 
 were at first founded. Indeed our ancestors were will- 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 401 
 
 ing to put any thing- into the king's power, rather than 
 their arms, and the garrisons of their towns ; conceiv- 
 ing that to be neither better nor worse, than betraying 
 their liberty to the fury and exorbitancy of their princes. 
 Of which there are so very many instances in our his- 
 tories, and those so generally known, that it would be 
 superfluous to mention any of them here. But "the 
 king owes protection to his subjects ; and how can he 
 protect them, unless he have men and arms at command ?" 
 But, say I, he had all this for the good of the kingdom, 
 as has been said, not for the destruction of his people, 
 and the ruin of the kingdom : which in King Henry 
 the Illd's time, one Leonard, a learned man in those 
 days, in an assembly of bishops, told Rustandus, the 
 pope's nuncio and the king's procurator, in these words ; 
 "All churches are the pope's, as all temporal things 
 are said to be the king's, for defence and protection, 
 not his in propriety and ownership, as we say ; they 
 are his to defend, not to destroy." The aforementioned 
 law of St. Edward is to the same purpose ; and what 
 does this import more than a trust ? Does this look 
 like absolute power ? Such a kind of power a com- 
 mander of an army always has, that is, a delegated 
 power ; and yet both at home and abroad he is never 
 the less able to defend the people that choose him. 
 Our parliaments would anciently have contended with 
 our kings about their liberty and the laws of St. Ed- 
 ward, to very little purpose ; and it would have been 
 an unequal match betwixt the kings and them, if they 
 had been of opinion, that the power of the sword be- 
 longed to them alone: for how unjust laws soever 
 their kings would have imposed upon them, their 
 charter, though never so great, would have been a 
 weak defence against force. But say you, " What 
 would the parliament be the bettei for the militia, 
 since without the king's assent they cannot raise the 
 least farthing from the people towards the maintaining 
 it ?" Take you no thought for that : for in the first 
 place you go upon a false supposition, " that parlia- 
 ments cannot impose taxes without the king's assent," 
 upon the people that send them, and whose concenis 
 they undertake. In the next place, you, that are 
 so officious an inquirer into other men's matters, can- 
 not but have heard, that the people of their own ac- 
 cord, by bringing in their plate to be melted down, 
 raised a great sura of money towards the carrying on of 
 this war against the king. Then you mention the 
 largeness of our king's revenue : you mention over and 
 over again five hundred and forty thousands: that 
 " those of our kings that have been eminent for their 
 bounty and liberality have used to give large boons 
 out of their own patrimony." This you were glad to 
 bear; it was by this charm, that those traitors to their 
 country allured you, as Balaam the prophet was en- 
 ticed of old, to curse the people of God, and exclaim 
 against the judicial dispensations of his providence. 
 You fool ! what was that unjust and violent king the 
 better for such abundance of wealth ? W^hat are you 
 the better for it ? Who have been no partaker of any 
 part of it, that I can hear of, (how great hopes soever 
 you may have conceived of being vastly enriched by 
 
 it,) but only of a hundred pieces of gold, in a purse 
 wrought with beads. Take that reward of thine ini- 
 quity, Balaam, which thou hast loved, and enjoy it. 
 You go on to play the fool ; " the setting up of a 
 standard is a prerogative that belongs to the king only." 
 How so ? Why because Virgil tells us in his ^neis, 
 " that Turnus set up a standard on the top of the tower 
 at Laurentum, for an ensign of war." And do not you 
 know, Grammarian, that every general of an army 
 does the same thing? But, says Aristotle, "The king 
 must always be provided of a military power, that he 
 may be able to defend the laws ; and therefore the king 
 must be stronger than the whole body of the people." 
 This man makes consequences just as Ocnus does ropes 
 in hell; which are of no use but to be eaten by asses. 
 For a number of soldiers given to the king by the 
 people, is one thing, and the sole power of the militia 
 is quite another thing; the latter, Aristotle does not 
 allow that kings ought to be masters of, and that in 
 this very place which you have quoted ; " He ought," 
 says he, " to have so many armed men about him, as 
 to make him stronger than any one man, than many 
 men got together ; but he must not be stronger than all 
 the people." Polit. lib. 3, cap. 4, Else instead of pro- 
 tecting them, it would be in his power to subject both 
 people and laws to himself For this is the difference 
 betwixt a king and a tyrant: a king, by consent of 
 the senate and people, has about him so many armed 
 men, as to enable him to resist enemies, and suppress 
 seditions. A tyrant, against the will both of senate 
 and people, gets as great a number as he can, either of 
 enemies, or profligate subjects, to side with him against 
 the senate and the people. The parliament therefore 
 allowed the king, as they did whatever he had besides, 
 the setting up of a standard ; not to wage war against 
 his own people, but to defend them against such as 
 the parliament should declare enemies to the state : 
 if he acted otherwise, himself was to be accounted an 
 enemy ; since according to the very law of St. Edward, 
 or according to a more sacred law than that, the law 
 of nature itself, he lost the name of a king, and was 
 no longer such. Whence Cicero in his Philip. " He 
 forfeits his command in the army, and interest in his 
 government, that employs them against the state." 
 Neither could the king compel those that held of him 
 by knight-service, to serve him in any other war, 
 than such as was made by consent of parliament; 
 which is evident by many statutes. So for customs 
 and other subsidies for the maintenance of the navy^ 
 the king could not exact them without an act of parlia- 
 ment; as was resolved about twelve years ago, by the 
 ablest of our lawyers, when the king's authority was 
 at the height. And long before them, Fortescue, an 
 eminent lawyer, and chancellor to King Henry the 
 sixth, " The king of England," says he, " can neither 
 alter the laws, nor exact subsidies w ithout the people's 
 consent." Nor can any testimonies be brought from an- 
 tiquity, to prove the kingdom of England to have been 
 merely regal. " The king," says Bracton, " has aju- 
 risdiction over all his subjects ;" that is, in his courts 
 of justice, where justice is administered in the king's 
 
402 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 name indeed, but according to our own laws. " AH are 
 subject to the king;" tbat is, every particular man is ; 
 and so Bracton explains himself in the places that I have 
 cited. What follows is but turning the same stone over 
 and over again, (at which sport I believe you are able 
 to tire Sisiphus himself,) and is sufficiently answered by 
 what has been said already. For the rest, if our parlia- 
 ments have sometimes complimented good kings with 
 submissive expressions, though neither savouring of flat- 
 tery nor slavery, those are not to be accounted due to 
 tyrants, nor ought to prejudice the people's right : good 
 manners and civility do not infringe liberty. Where- 
 as you cite out of Sir Edward Coke and others, " that 
 the kingdom of England is an absolute kingdom;" 
 that is said with respect to any foreign prince, or 
 the emperor: because as Camden says, " It is not 
 under the patronage of the emperor : " but both of them 
 affirm, that the government of England resides not in 
 king alone, but in a body politic. Whence Fortescue, 
 in his book de Laud. Leg. Ang. cap. 9, " The king of 
 England," sa3-s he, " governs his people, not by a 
 merely regal, but a political power; for the English 
 are governed by laws of their own making." Foreign 
 authors were not ignorant of this : hence Philip de 
 Comines, a grave author, in the Fifth Book of his Com- 
 mentaries, " Of all the kingdoms of the earth," says 
 be, " that I have any knowledge of, there is none in my 
 opinion where the government is more moderate, where 
 the king has less power of hurting his people, than in 
 England." Finally, " It is ridiculous," say you, " for 
 them to affirm that kingdoms were ancienter than kings ; 
 which is as much as if they should say, that there was 
 light before the sun was created." But with your good 
 leave. Sir, we do not say that kingdoms, but that the 
 people, were before kings. In the mean time, who can 
 be more ridiculous than you, who deny there was light 
 before the sun had a being.-* You pretend to a curiosity 
 in other men's matters, and have forgot the very first 
 things that were taught you. " You wonder how they 
 that have seen the king sit upon his throne, at a session 
 of parliament, (sub aureo et serico CodIo, under a golden 
 and silken heaven,) under a canopy of state, should so 
 much as make a question, whether the majesty resided 
 in him, or in the parliament ?" They are certainly 
 hard of belief, whom so lucid an argument, coming 
 down from heaven, cannot convince. Which golden 
 heaven, you, like a stoic, have so devoutly and se- 
 riously gazed upon, that you seem to have forgot what 
 kind of heaven Moses and Aristotle describe to us ; for 
 you deny, that there was any light in Moses's heaven 
 before the sun ; and in Aristotle's you make three tem- 
 perate zones. How many zones you observed in that 
 golden and silken heaven of the king's, I know not; 
 but I know you got one zone (a purse) well tempered 
 with a hundred golden stars by your astronomy. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Since this whole controversy, whether concerning 
 the right of kings in general, or that of the king of 
 England in particular, is rendered difficult and intri- 
 cate, rather by the obstinacy of parties, than by the 
 nature of the thing itself; I hope they tbat prefer truth 
 before the interest of a faction, will be satisfied with 
 what I have alleged out of the law of God, the laws 
 of nations, and the municipal lawsof my own country, 
 that a king of England may be brougiit to trial, and 
 put to death. As for those whose minds are either 
 blinded with superstition, or so dazzled with tlie splen- 
 dour and grandeur of a court, that magnanimity and 
 true liberty do not appear so glorious to them, as they 
 are in themselves, it will be ia vain to contend with 
 them, either by reason and arguments, or examples. 
 But you, Salmasius, seem very absurd, as in every 
 other part of your book, so particularly in this, who 
 though you rail perpetually at the Independents, and 
 revile them with all the terms of reproach imaginable, 
 yet assert to the highest degree that can be the independ- 
 ency of a king, whom you defend ; and will not allow 
 him to " owe his sovereignty to the people, but to his 
 descent." And whereas in the beginning of your book 
 you complained, that he was " put to plead for his life," 
 here you complain " that he perished without beint; 
 heard to speak for himself." But if you hare a mind 
 to look into the history of his trial, which is very faitli- 
 fully published in French, it may be you will be of an- 
 other opinion. Whereas he had liberty given him for 
 some daj's together, to say what he could for himself, 
 he made use of it not to clear himself of the crime*; 
 laid to his charge, but to disprove the authority of his 
 judges, and the judicature that he was called before. 
 And whenever a criminal is either mute, or says no- 
 thing to the purpose, there is no injustice in condemn- 
 ing him without hearing him, if his crimes are noto- 
 rious, and publicly known. If you say, that Charles 
 died as he lived, I agree with you : if you say, that he 
 died piously, holily, and at ease, you may remember 
 that his grandmother Mary, Queen of Scots, an infa- 
 mous woman, died on a scaffold with as much outward 
 appearance of piety, sanctity, and constancy, as he did. 
 And lest you should ascribe too much to that presence 
 of mind, which some common malefactors have so great 
 a measure of at their death ; many times despair, and 
 a hardened heart, puts on as it were a vizor of courage ; 
 and stupidity, a shew of quiet and tranquillity of mind : 
 sometimes the worst of men desire to appear good, un- 
 daunted, innocent, and now and then religious, noi 
 only in their life, but at their death ; and in sufferini,'' 
 death for their villanies, use to act the last part of their 
 hypocrisy and cheats, with all the shew imaginable ; 
 and like bad poets or stageplayers, are very ambitions 
 at being clapped at the end of the play. " Now," you 
 say, " you are come to inquire who they chiefly were, 
 tbat gave sentence against the king." W^hereas it 
 ought first to be inquired into, how you, a foreigner, 
 and a French vagabond, came to have any thing to 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 40S 
 
 do to raise a question about our affairs, to which 3'ou 
 J are so much a stranger? And what reward induced 
 you to it? But we know enough of that, and who satis- 
 fied your curiosity in these matters of ours; even those 
 fugitives, and traitors to their country, that could easily 
 hire such a vain fellow as you, to speak ill of us. Then 
 ail account in writing of the state of our affairs was 
 put into your hands by some hairbrained, half protes- 
 tant, half papist chaplain or other, or by some sneak- 
 ing courtier, and you were put to translate it into Latin ; 
 out of that you took these narratives, which, if you 
 please, we will examine a little : " Not the hundred 
 i thousandth part of the people consented to this sentence 
 of condemnation." What were the rest of the people then, 
 that suffered so great a thing to be transacted against 
 their will ? Were they stocks and stones, were they 
 mere trunks of men only, or such images of Britains, as 
 Virgil describes to have been wrought in tapestry ? 
 
 Purpurea intexti tollant aulera Britantii, 
 And Britains interwove held up the purple hangings. 
 
 For you describe no true Britains, but painted ones, or 
 rather needle-wrought men instead of them. Since 
 therefore it is a thing so incredible, that a warlike na- 
 tion should be subdued by so few, and those of the 
 dregs of the people, (which is the first thing that occurs 
 in your narrative,) that appears in the very nature of 
 the thing itself to be most false. " The bishops were 
 turned out of the house of lords by the parliament it- 
 self." The more deplorable is your madness, (for are 
 not you yet sensible that you rave.^) to complain of their 
 being turned out of the parliament, whom you yourself 
 in a large book endeavour to prove ought to be turned 
 out of the church. " One of the states of parliament, 
 to wit, the house of lords, consisting of dukes, earls, 
 and viscounts, was removed." And deservedly were 
 they removed ; for they were not deputed to sit there 
 by any town or county, but represented themselves 
 only ; they had no right over the people, but (as if 
 they had been ordained for that very purpose) used 
 frequently to oppose their rights and liberties. They 
 were created by the king, the)' were his companions, 
 his servants, and, as it were, shadows of him. He 
 being removed, it was necessary they should be reduced 
 to the same level with the body of the people, from 
 amongst whom they took their rise. " One part of the 
 parliament, and that the w orst of all, ought not to have 
 assumed that power of judging and condemning the 
 king." But I have told you already, that the house 
 of commons was not only the chief part of our parlia- 
 ment, while we had kings, but was a perfect and entire 
 parliament of itself, without the temporal lords, much 
 more without the bishops. But, " the whole house of 
 commons themselves were not admitted to have to do 
 with the trial of the king " To wit, that part of them 
 was not admitted, that openly revolted to him in their 
 minds and counsels ; whom, though they styled him 
 their king, yet they had so often acted against as an 
 enemy. The parliament of England, and the deputies 
 sent from the parliament of Scotland, op the 13th of 
 Januarv, 1645, wrote to the king, in answer to a letter 
 2 D 
 
 of his, by which he desired a deceitful truce, and that 
 he might treat with them at London ; that they could 
 not admit him into that city, till he had made satisfac- 
 tion to the state for the civil war that he had raised in 
 the three kingdoms, and for the deaths of so many of 
 his subjects slain by his order ; and till he had agreed 
 to a true and firm peace upon such terms as the parlia- 
 ments of both kingdoms had offered him so often 
 already, and should offer him again. He on the other 
 hand either refused to hear, or by ambiguous answers 
 eluded, their just and equal proposals, though most 
 humbly presented to him seven times over. The par- 
 liament at last, after so many years' patience, lest the 
 king should overturn the state by his wiles and delays, 
 when in prison, which he could not subdue in the field, 
 and lest the vanquished enemy, pleased with our divi- 
 sions, should recover himself, and triumph unexpectedly 
 over his conquerors, vote that for the future they would 
 have no regard to him, that they would send him no 
 more proposals, nor receive any from him : after which 
 vote, there were found even some members of parlia- 
 ment, who out of the hatred they bore that invincible 
 army, whose glory they envied, and which they would 
 have had disbanded, and sent home with disgrace, after 
 they had deserved so well of their nation, and out of a 
 servile compliance with some seditious ministers, find- 
 ing their opportunity, when many, whom they knew 
 to be otherwise minded than themselves, having been 
 sent by the house itself to suppress the presbyterians, 
 who began already to be turbulent, were absent iu the 
 several counties, with a strange levity, not to say per- 
 fidiousness, vote that that inveterate enemy of the state, 
 who had nothing of a king but the name, without giv- 
 ing any satisfaction or security, should be brought back 
 to London, and restored to his dignity and government, 
 as if he had deserved well of the nation by what he had 
 done. So that they preferred the king before their re- 
 ligion, their liberty, and that very celebrated covenant 
 of theirs. What did they do in the mean time, who 
 were sound themselves, and saw such pernicious coun- 
 cils on foot ? Ought they therefore to have been want- 
 ing to the nation, and not provide for its safety, because 
 the infection had spread itself even in their own house? 
 But, who secluded those ill-affected members? " The 
 English army," you say : so that it was not an army 
 of foreigners, but of most valiant, and faithful, honest 
 natives, whose oflicers for the most part were members 
 of parliament ; and whom those good secluded mem- 
 bers would have secluded their country, and banished 
 into Ireland ; while in the mean time the Scots, whose 
 alliance began to be doubtful, had very considerable 
 forces in four of our northern counties, and kept garri- 
 sons in the best towns of those parts, and had the king 
 himself in custody ; whilst they likewise encouraged 
 the tumultuating of those of their own faction, who 
 did more than threaten the parliament, both in city and 
 country, and through whose means not only a civil, 
 but a war with Scotland too shortly after brake out. 
 If it has been always counted praise-worthy in pri- 
 vate men to assist the state, and promote the public 
 good, whether by advice or action ; our army sure 
 
404 
 
 A DEFENCE Ob iHK PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 was in no faiih, who being^ ordered by the parliament 
 to come to town, obeyed and came, and when they 
 were come, quelled with ease the faction and uproar 
 of the king's party, who sometimes threatened the 
 house itself. For things were brought to that pass, 
 that of necessity either we roust be run down by 
 them, or they by us. They had on their side most of 
 the shopkeepers and handicraftsmen of London, and 
 generally those of the ministers, that were most fac- 
 tious. On our side was the army, whose fidelity, 
 moderation, and courage were sufficiently known. It 
 being in our power by their means to retain our liberty, 
 our state, our common safety, do you think we had 
 not been fools to have lost all by our negligence and 
 folly ? They who had had places of command in the 
 king's army, after their party were subdued, had laid 
 down their arms indeed against their wills, but conti- 
 naed enemies to us in their hearts : and they flocked to 
 town, and were here watching all opportunities of re- 
 newing the war. With these men, though they were 
 the greatest enemies they had in the world, and thirsted 
 after their blood, did the Presbyterians, because they 
 were not permitted to exercise a civil as well as an 
 ecclesiastical jurisdiction over all others, hold secret 
 correspondence, and took measures very unworthy of 
 what they had formerly both said and done ; and they 
 came to that spleen at last, that they would rather en- 
 thral themselves to the king again, than admit their 
 own brethren to share in their liberty, which they like- 
 wise had purchased at the price of their own blood ; 
 they choose rather to be lorded over once more by a 
 tyrant, polluted with the blood of so many of his own 
 subjects, and who was enraged, and breathed out no- 
 thing but revenge, against those of them that were left, 
 than endure their brethren and friends to be upon the 
 square with them. The Independents, as they are 
 called, were the only men, that from first to last kept 
 to their point, and knew what use to make of their vic- 
 tory. They refused (and wisely, in my opinion) to 
 make him king again, being then an enemy, who 
 when he was their king, had made himself their enemy : 
 nor were they ever the less averse to a peace, but they 
 very prudently dreaded a new war, or a perpetual sla- 
 very under the name of a peace. To load our army 
 with the more reproaches, you begin a silly confused 
 narrative of our affairs; in which, though I find many 
 things false, many things frivolous, many things laid 
 to our charge for which we rather merit; yet I think 
 it will be to no purpose for me to write a true relation, 
 in answer to your false one. For you and I are argu- 
 ing, not writing histories, and both sides will believe 
 our reasons, but not our narrative; and indeed the na- 
 ture of the things themselves is such, that they cannot 
 be related as they ought to be, but in a set history ; so 
 that I think it better, as Sallust said of Carthage, rather 
 to say nothing at all, than to say but a little of things 
 of this weight and importance. Nay, and I scorn so 
 much as to mention the praises of great men, and of 
 Almighty God himself, (who in so wonderful a course 
 of affairs ought to be frequently acknowledged,) amongst 
 jour slanders and reproaches. I will therefore only 
 
 pick out such things as seem to have any colour of ar- 
 gument. Vou say, " the English and Scots promised 
 by a solemn covenant, to preserve the majesty of the 
 king." But you omit upon what terms they promised 
 it ; to wit, if it might consist with the safety of their 
 religion and their liberty. To both which, religion 
 and liberty, that king was so averse to his last breath, 
 and watched all opportunities of gaining advantages 
 upon them, that it was evident that his life was danger- 
 ous to their religion, and the certain ruin of their liberty. 
 But then you fall upon the king's judges again: " If 
 we consider the thing aright, the conclusion of this 
 abominable action must be imputed to the Independ- 
 ents, yet so as the Presbyterians may justly challenge 
 the glory of its beginning and progress." Hark, ye 
 Presbyterians, what good has it done you ? How is 
 your innocence and loyalty the more cleared b}' your ; 
 seeming so much to abhor the putting the king to death ? 
 You yourselves, in the opinion of this everlasting talk- 
 ative advocate of the king your accuser, " went more 
 than half-way towards it ; you were seen acting the 
 fourth act and more, in this tragedy ; you may justly 
 be charged with the king's death, since you shewed 
 the way to it ; it was you and only you that laid his 
 head upon the block." Wo be to you in the first place, 
 if ever Charles his posterity recover the crown of Eng- 
 land ; assure yourselves, you are like to be put in the 
 black list. But pay your vows to God, and love your 
 brethren who have delivered you, who have prevented 
 that calamity from falling upon you, who have saved 
 you from inevitable ruin, though against your wills. 
 You are accused likewise for that " some years ago 
 you endeavoured by sundry petitions to lessen the king's 
 authority, that you published some scandalous expres- 
 sions of the king himself in the papers you presented 
 him with in tlie name of the parliament ; to wit, in 
 that declaration of the lords and commons of the 26th 
 of May 1642, you declared openly in some mad posi- 
 tions that breathed nothing but rebellion, what your 
 thoughts were of the king's authority: Hotham by 
 order of parliament shut the gates of Hull against the 
 king ; you had a mind to make a trial by this first act 
 of rebellion how much the king would bear." What 
 could this man say more, if it were his design to recon- 
 cile the minds of all Englishmen to one another, and 
 alienate them wholly from the king ? for he gives them 
 here to understand, that if ever the king be brought 
 back, they must not only expect to be punished for his 
 father's death, but for the petitions they made long 
 ago, and some acts that past in full parliament, con- 
 cerning the putting down the common-prayer and 
 bishops, and that of the triennial parliament, and seve- 
 ral other things that were enacted with the greatest 
 consent and applause of all the people that could be; 
 all which will be looked upon as the seditions and mad 
 positions of the Presbyterians. But this vain fellow 
 changes his mind all of a sudden; and what but of late, 
 " when he considered it aright," he thought was to be 
 imputed wholly to the Presbyterians, now that "he con- 
 siders the same thing from first to last," he thinks the 
 Independents were the sole actors of it. But even now 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 405 
 
 he told us, " the Presbyterians took up arms against 
 the king-, that by them he was beaten, taken captive, 
 and put in prison : " now he says, " this whole doctrine 
 of rebellion is the Independents' principle." O ! the 
 faithfulness of this man's narrative ! how consistent he is 
 with himself! what need is there of a counter-narrative 
 to this of his, that cuts its own throat? But if any 
 man should question whether you are an honest man 
 or a knave, let him read these following lines of youi-s: 
 " It is time to explain whence and at what time this 
 sect of enemies to kingship first began. Why truly 
 these rare puritans began in Queen Elizabeth's time to 
 crawl out of hell, and disturb not only the church, but 
 the state likewise; for they are no less plagues to the 
 latter than to the former." Now your very speech be- 
 wrays you to be a right Balaam ; for where you de- 
 signed to spit out the most bitter poison you could, 
 there unwittingly and against your will you have pro- 
 nounced a blessing. For it is notoriously known all 
 over England, that if any endeavoured to follow the 
 example of those churches, whether in France or Ger- 
 many, which they accounted best reformed, and to ex- 
 ercise the public worship of God in a more pure man- 
 ner, which our bishops had almost universally corrupted 
 with their ceremonies and superstitions ; or if any 
 seemed either in point of religion or morality to be bet- 
 ter than otliers, such persons were by the favour of 
 episcopacy termed Puritans. These are they whose 
 princi])les you say are so opposite to kingship. Nor 
 are they the only persons, " most of the reformed re- 
 ligion, that have not sucked in the rest of their prin- 
 ciples, yet seem to have approved of those that strike 
 at kingly government." So that while you inveigh 
 bitterly against the Independents, and endeavour to 
 separate them from Christ's flock, with the same breath 
 you praise them; and those principles which almost 
 every where you affirm to be peculiar to the Indepen- 
 dents, here you confess have been approved of by most 
 of the reformed religion. Nay, you are arrived to that 
 degree of impudence, impiety, and apostacy, that 
 though formerly you maintained bishops ought to be 
 extirpated out of the church root and branch, as so 
 many pests and limbs of antichrist, here you say the 
 king ought to protect them, for the saving of his coro- 
 nation oath. You cannot shew yourself a more in- 
 famous villain than you have done already, but by ab- 
 juring the protestaut reformed religion, to which you 
 are a scandal. Whereas you tax us with giving a 
 '* toleration of all sects and heresies," you ought not to 
 find fault with us for that; since the church bears with 
 such a profligate wretch as you yourself, such a vain 
 fellow, such a liar, such a mercenary slanderer, such an 
 apostate, one who has the impudence toaflirm, that the 
 best and most pious of Christians, and even most of 
 those who profess the reformed religion, are crept out 
 of hell, because they differ in opinion from you. I 
 had best pass by the calumnies that fill up the rest of 
 this chapter, and those prodigious tenets that j'ou as- 
 cribe to the Independents, to render them odious ; for 
 neither do they at all concern the cause you have in 
 hand, and they are such for the most part as deserve 
 
 to be laughed at and despised, rather than receive a 
 serious answer. 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 Vol- seem to begin this eleventh chapter, Salmasius, 
 though with no modesty, yet with some sense of your 
 weakness and trifling in this discourse. For whereas 
 you proposed to yourself to inquire in this place, by 
 what authority sentence was given against the kino-; 
 you add immediately, which nobody expected from you, 
 that " it is in vain to make any such inquiry ; to wit, 
 because the quality of the persons that did it leaves 
 hardly any room for such a question." And therefore 
 as you have been found guilty of a great deal of im- 
 pudence and sauciness in the undertaking of this cause, 
 so since you seem here conscious of your own imper- 
 tinence, 1 shall give you the shorter answer. To your 
 question then ; by what authority the house of commons 
 either condemned the king themselves, or delegated 
 that power to others; I answer, they did it by virtue 
 of the supreme authority on earth. How they come to 
 have the supreme power, you may learn by what I 
 have said already, when I have refuted your imper- 
 tinencies upon that subject. Jf you believed yourself, 
 that you could ever say enough upon any subject, you 
 would not be so tedious in repeating the same thing so 
 many times over. And the house of commons might 
 delegate their judicial power by the same reason, by 
 which you say the king may delegate his, who received 
 all he had from the people. Hence in that solemn 
 league and covenant that you object to us, the parlia- 
 ments of England and Scotland solemnly protest and 
 engage to each other, to punish the traitors in such 
 manner as "the supreme, judicial authority in both 
 nations, or such as should have a delegated power from 
 them," should think fit. Now you hear the parlia- 
 ments of both nations protest with one voice, that they 
 may delegate their judicial power, which they call the 
 supreme ; so that you move a vain and frivolous con- 
 troversy about delegating this power. " But," say 
 you, " there were added to those judges, that were 
 made choice of out of the house of commons, some offi- 
 cers of the army, and it never was known, that soldiers 
 had any right to try a subject for his life." I will 
 silence you in a very few words : you may remember, 
 that we are not now discoursing of a subject, but of an 
 enemy ; whom if a general of an army, after he has 
 taken him prisoner, resolves to dispatch, would he be 
 thought to proceed otherwise than according to custom 
 and martial law, if he himself with some of his officers 
 should sit upon him, and try and condemn him .•• An 
 enemy to a state, made a prisoner of war, cannot be 
 looked upon to be so much as a member, much less a 
 king in that state. This is declared by that sacred law 
 of St. Edward, which denies that a bad king is a king 
 at all, or ought to be called so. Whereas you say, it 
 was " not the whole, but a part of the house of com- 
 
400 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 niuns, that tried and condeniiied the king," I give you 
 this answer: the number ofthem, who gave their votes 
 for putting the king to death, was far greater than is 
 necessary, according to the custom of our parliaments, 
 to transact the greatest affairs of the kingdom, in the 
 absence of the rest ; who since they w ere absent through 
 tbeir own fault, (for to revolt to the common enemy in 
 their hearts, is the worst sort of absence,) their absence 
 ought not to hinder the rest who continued faithful to 
 the cause, from preserving the state; which when it 
 was in a tottering condition, and almost quite reduced 
 to slavery and utter ruin, the whole body of the 
 people had at first committed to their fidelity, pru- 
 dence, and courage. And they acte<l their parts 
 like men ; they set themselves in opposition to the un- 
 ruly wilfulness, the rage, the secret designs of an in- 
 veterate and exasperated king ; they preferred the 
 oummon liberty and safety before their own ; they out- 
 did all former parliaments, they outdid all their ances- 
 tors, in conduct, magnanimity, and steadiness to their 
 cause. Yet these very men did a great part of the 
 people ungratefully desert in the midst of their under- 
 taking, though they had promised thejn all fidelity, all 
 the Help and assistance they could afford them. These 
 were for slavery and peace, with sloth and luxury, 
 upon any terms: others demanded their liberty, nor 
 would accept of a peace, that was not sure and honour- 
 able. What should the parliament do in this case? 
 Ought they to have defended this part of the people, 
 that was sound, and continued faithful to them and their 
 country, or to have sided with those that deserted both ? 
 I know what you will say they ought to have done. 
 You are not Eurylochus, but Elpeuor, a miserable en- 
 chanted beast, a filthy swine, accustomed to a sordid 
 slavery even under a woman ; so that you have not the 
 least relish of true magnanimity, nor consequently of 
 liberty, which is the effect of it : you would have all 
 other men slaves, because you find in yourself no 
 generous, ingenuous inclinations; you say nothing, 
 yon breathe nothing, but what is mean and servile. 
 You raise another scruple, to wit, " that he was the 
 king of Scotland too, whom we condemned ;" as if he 
 might therefore do what he would in England. But 
 that you may conclude this chapter, which of all others 
 is the most weak and insipid, at least with some witty 
 quirk, " there are two little words," say you, •* that 
 are made up of the same number of letters, and differ 
 only in the placing of them, but whose significations 
 are wide asunder, to wit. Vis and Jus, (might and 
 right)." It is no great wonder, that such a three-let- 
 tered man as you, (fur, a thief,) should make such a 
 witticism upon three letters : it is the greater wonder 
 (which yet you assert throughout your book) that two 
 things so directly opposite to one another as those two 
 are, should yet meet and become one and the same 
 thing in kings. For what violence was ever acted 
 by kings, which you do not afKrm to be their right .'* 
 These are all the passages, that I could pick out of 
 nine long pages, that I thought deserved an answer. 
 The rest consists either of repetitions of things that 
 have been answered more than once, or such as have 
 
 no relation to the matter in hand. So that my being 
 more brief in this chapter than in the rest is not 
 to be imputed to want of diligence in me, wliich, how 
 irksome soever you are to me, I have not slackened, 
 but to your tedious impertinence, so void of matter 
 and sense. 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 I WISH, Salmasius, that you had left out this part of 
 your discourse concerning the king's crime, which it 
 had been more advisable for yourself and your party 
 to have done ; for I am afraid lest in giving you an 
 answer to it, I should appear too sharp and severe upon 
 him, now he is dead, and hath received his punish- 
 ment. But since you choose rather to discourse con- 
 fidently and at large upon that subject, I will make 
 you sensible, that you could not have done a more in- 
 considerate thing, than to reserve the worst part of 
 your cause to the last, to wit, that of ripping up and 
 inquiring into the king's crimes; which when I shall 
 have proved them to have been true and most exorbi- 
 tant, they will render his memory unpleasant and 
 odious to all good men, and imprint now in the close 
 of the controversy a just hatred of you, who undertake 
 his defence, on the reader's minds. Say you, " his 
 accusation may be divided into two parts, one is con- 
 versant about his morals, the other taxeth him with 
 such faults as he might commit in his public capacity." 
 I will be content to pass by in silence that part of his 
 life that he spent in banquetting, at plays, and in the 
 conversation of women ; for what can there be in lux- 
 ury and excess worth relating ? And what would those 
 things have been to us, if he had been a private per- 
 son .•* But since he would be a king, as he could not 
 live a private life, so neither could his vices be like 
 those of a private person. For in the first place, be 
 did a great deal of mischief by his example : in the 
 second place, all that time that he spent upon his lust, 
 and his sports, which was a great part of his time, he 
 stole from the state, the government of which he bad 
 undertaken : thirdly and lastly, he squandered away 
 vast sums of money, which were not bis own, but the 
 public revenue of the nation, in his domestic luxury 
 and extravagance. So that in his private life at home 
 he first began to be an ill king. But let us rather 
 pass over to those crimes, " that he is charged with on 
 the account of misgovemment." Here you lament 
 his being condemned as a tyrant, a traitor, and a mur- 
 derer. That he had no wrong done him, shall now be 
 made appear. But first let us define a tyrant, not ac- 
 cording to vulgar conceits, but the judgment of Aris- 
 totle, and of all learned men. He is a tyrant who re- 
 gards his own welfare and profit only, and not that 
 of the people. So Aristotle defines one in the tenth 
 book of his Ethics, and elsewhere, and so do very many 
 others. Whether Charles regarded his own or the 
 people's good, these few things of many, that I sh:>-ll 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 407 
 
 but touch upon, will evince. When his rents and 
 other public revenues of the crown would not defray 
 the expenses of the court, be laid most heavy taxes 
 upon the people ; and when they were squandered 
 away, he invented new ones; not for the benefit, 
 honour, or defence of the state, but that he might hoard 
 up, or lavish out in one house, the riches and wealth, 
 not of one, but of three nations. When at this rate he 
 broke lose, and acted without any colour of law to 
 warrant his proceedings, knowing that the parliament 
 was the only thing that could give him check, he en- 
 deavoured either wholly to lay aside the very calling 
 of parliaments, or calling them just as often, and no 
 oftener, than to serve bis own turn, to make them en- 
 tirely at his devotion. Which bridle when he had cast 
 off himself, he put another bridle upon the people ; he 
 put garrisons of German horse and Irish foot in many 
 towns and cities, and that in time of peace. Do you 
 think he does not begin to look like a tyrant ? In which 
 very thing, as in many other particulars, which you 
 have formerly given me occasi(m to instance, though 
 you scorn to have Charles compared with so cruel a 
 tyrant as Nero, he resembled him extremely much. 
 For Nero likewise often threatened to take away the 
 senate. Besides, he bore extreme hard upon the con- 
 sciences of good men, and compelled them to the use 
 of ceremonies and superstitious worship, borrowed from 
 popery, and by him reintroduced into the church. 
 They that would not conform, were imprisoned or 
 banished. He made war upon the Scots twice for no 
 other cause than that. By all these actions he has 
 surely deserved the name of a tyrant once over at least. 
 Now I will tell you why the word traitor was put into 
 his indictment : when he assured his parliament by 
 promises, by proclamations, by imprecations, that he 
 had no design against the state, at that very time did 
 he list Papists in Ireland, he sent a private embassy 
 to the king of Denmark to beg assistance from him of 
 arms, horses, and men, expressly against the parlia- 
 ment ; and was endeavouring to raise an army first in 
 England, and then in Scotland. To the English he 
 promised the plunder of the city of London ; to the 
 Scots, that the four northern counties should be added 
 to Scotland, if they would but help him to get rid of 
 the parliament, by what means soever. These projects 
 not succeeding, he sent over one Dillon, a traitor, into 
 Ireland with private instructions to the natives, to fall 
 suddenly upon all the English that inhabited there. — 
 These are the most remarkable instances of bis treasons, 
 not taken up upon hearsay and idle reports, but disco- 
 vered by letters under his own band and seal. And 
 finally I suppose no man will deny that he was a mur- 
 derer, by whose order the Irish look arms, and put to 
 death with most exquisite torments above a hundred 
 thousand English, who lived peaceably by them, and 
 without any apprehension of danger; and who raised 
 so great a civil war in the other two kingdoms. Add 
 to all this, that at the treaty in the Isle of Wight the 
 king openly took upon himself the guilt of the war, 
 and cleared the parliament in the confession he made 
 there, which is publicly known. Thus you have in 
 
 short why King Charles was adjudged a tyrant, a trai- 
 tor, and a murderer. " But," say you, " why was he 
 not declared so before, neither in tliat solemn league 
 and covenant, nor afterwards when he was delivered 
 to them, either by the Presbyterians or the Indepen- 
 dents, but on the other hand was received as a king 
 ought to be, with all reverence ?" This very thing is 
 sufficient to persuade any rational man, that the parlia- 
 ment entered [not into any councils of quite deposing 
 the king, but as their last refuge, after they had suf- 
 fered and undergone all that possibly they could, and 
 had attempted all other ways and means. You alone 
 endeavour maliciously to lay that to their charge, which 
 to all good men cannot but evidence their great patience, 
 moderation, and perhaps a too long forbearing with the 
 king's pride and arrogance. But " in the month of 
 August, before the king suflTered, the house of commons, 
 which then bore the only sway, and was governed by 
 the Independents, wrote letters to the Scots, in which 
 they acquainted them, that they never intended to alter 
 the form of government that had obtained so long in 
 England under kinsr, lords, and commons." You may 
 see from hence, how little reason there is to ascribe the 
 deposing of the king to the principles of the Indepen- 
 dents. They, that never used to dissemble and conceal 
 their tenets, even then, when they bad the sole manage- 
 ment of affairs, profess, " Tiiat they never intended to 
 alter the government." But if afterwards a thing came 
 into their minds, which at first they intended not, why 
 might they not take such a course, though before not 
 intended, as appeared most advisable, and most for the 
 nation's interest? Especially when they found, that the 
 king could not possibly be intreated or induced to as- 
 sent to those just demands, that they had made from 
 time to time, and which were always the same from 
 first to last. He persisted in those perverse sentiments 
 with respect to religion and his own right, which he 
 had all along espoused, and which were so destructive 
 to us ; not in the least altered from the man that be 
 was, when in peace and war he did us all so much 
 mischief. If he assented to any thing, he gave no ob- 
 scure hints, that he did it against his will, and that 
 whenever he should come into power again, he would 
 look upon such his assent as null and void. The same 
 thing his son declared by writing under his hand, when 
 in those days he run away witli part of the fleet, and 
 so did the king himself by letters to some of his own 
 party in London. In the mean time, against the avowed 
 sense of the parliament, he struck up a private peace 
 with the Irish, the most barbarous enemies imaginable 
 to England, upon base dishonourable terms; but when- 
 ever he invited the English to treaties of peace, at those 
 very times, with all the power he had, and interest he 
 could make, he was preparing for war. In this case, 
 what should they do, who were entrusted with the care 
 of the government.^ Ought they to have betrayed the 
 safety of us all to our most bitter adversary ? Or would 
 you have had them left us to undergo the calamities of 
 another seven years' war, not to say worse .'' God put a 
 better mind into them, of preferring, pursuant to that 
 very sofemn league and covenant, their religion and 
 
406 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 liberties, before those thoughts they once had, of not 
 rejecting the king ; for they had not gone so far as to 
 vote it ; all which they saw at last, (tliough indeed later 
 than they might bare done,) could not possibly subsist, 
 as long as the king continued king. The parliament 
 ought and must of necessity be entirely free, and at 
 liberty to provide for the good of the nation, as occa- 
 sion requires; nor ought they so to be wedded to their 
 first sentiments, as to scruple the altering their minds, 
 for their own, or the nation's good, if God put an 
 opportunity into their hands of procuring it. But 
 •* the Scots were of another opinion ; for they, in a let- 
 ter to Charles, the king's son, call his father a most 
 sacred prince, and the putting him to death a most 
 execrable villany." Do not you talk of the Scots, 
 whom you know not ; we know them well enough, and 
 know the time when they called that same king a most 
 execrable person, a murderer, and a traitor; and the 
 putting a tyrant to death a most sacred action. Then 
 you pick holes in the king's charge, as not being pro- 
 perly penned ; and you ask " why wc needed to call 
 him a traitor and a murderer, after we had styled him 
 a tyrant ; since the word tyrant includes all the crimes 
 that may be ;" and then you explain to us grammati- 
 cally and critically, what a tyrant is. Away with 
 those trifles, you pedagogue, which that one definition 
 of Aristotle's, that has lately been cited, will utterly 
 confound ; and teach such a doctor as you, that the 
 word tyrant (for all your concern is barely to have 
 some understanding of words) may be applied to one, 
 who is neither a traitor nor a murderer. But " the 
 laws of England do not make it treason in the king, 
 to stir up sedition against himself or the people." Nor 
 do they say, that the parliament can be guilty of trea- 
 son by deposing a bad king, nor that any parliament 
 ever was so, though they have often done it ; but our 
 laws plainly and clearly declare, that a king may vio- 
 late, diminish, nay, and wholly lose his royalty. For 
 that expression in the law of St. Edward, of " losing 
 the name of a king," sig^nifies neither more nor less, 
 than being deprived of the kingly office and dignity ; 
 which befel Chilperic king of France, whose example 
 for illustration sake is taken notice of in the law itself. 
 There is not a lawyer amongst us, that can deny, but 
 that the highest treason may be committed against the 
 kingdom as well as against the king. I appeal to 
 Glanville himself, whom you cite, " If any man at- 
 tempt to put the king to death, or raise sedition in the 
 realm, it is high treason." So that attempt of some 
 papists to blow up the parliament-house, and the lords 
 and commons there with gunpowder, was by King 
 James himself, and both houses of parliament, declared 
 to be high treason, not against the king only, but 
 against the parliament and the whole kingdom. It 
 would be to no purpose to quote more of our statutes, 
 to prove so clear a truth ; which yet I could easily do. 
 For the thing itself is ridiculous, and absurd to ima- 
 gine, that high treason may be committed against the 
 king, and not against the people, for whose good, nay, 
 and by whose leave, as I may say, the king is what 
 he is : so that you babble over so many statutes of ours 
 
 to no purpose; you toil and wallow in our ancient 
 law-books to no puq)ose ; for the laws themselves 
 stand or fall by authority of parliament, who always 
 had power to confinn or repeal them ; and the parlia- 
 ment is the sole judge of what is rebellion, what high 
 treason, (Icesa majestas,) and what not. Majesty never 
 was vested to that degree in the person of the king, as 
 not to be more conspicuous and more august in parlia- 
 ment, as I have often shewn : but who can endure to 
 hear such a senseless fellow, such a French mounte- 
 bank, as you, declare what our laws are ? And, you 
 English fugitives ! so many bishops, doctors, lawyers, 
 who pretend that all learning and ingenuous literature 
 is fled out of England with yourselves, was there not 
 one of you that could defend the king's cause and your 
 own, and that in good Latin also, to be submitted to 
 the judgment of other nations, but that this brainsick, 
 beggarly Frenchman must be hired to undertake the 
 defence of a poor indigent king, surrounded with so 
 many infant-priests and doctors .'' This very thing, I 
 assure you, will be a great imputation to you amongst 
 foreigners ; and you will be thought deservedly to have 
 lost that cause, you were so far from being able to 
 defend by force of arms, as that you cannot so much 
 as write in behalf of it. But now I come to j'ou 
 again, good man Goosecap, who scribble so finely; 
 if at least you are come to yourself again : for I find 
 you here towards the latter end of your book in a 
 deep sleep, and dreaming of some voluntary death or 
 other, that is nothing to the purpose. Then you 
 " deny, that it is possible for a king in his right wits 
 to embroil his people in seditions, to betray his own 
 forces to be slaughtered by enemies, and raise fac- 
 tions against himself." All which things having been 
 done by many kings, and particularly by Charles the 
 late king of England, you will no longer doubt, I 
 hope, especially being addicted to Stoicism, but that 
 all tyrants, as well as profligate villains, are down- 
 right mad. Hear what Horace says, " Whoever 
 through a senseless stupidity, or any other cause what- 
 soever, hath his understanding so blinded, as not to 
 discern truth, the Stoics account of him as of a mad- 
 man : and such are whole nations, such are kings and 
 princes, such are all mankind ; except those very few 
 that are wise." So that if you would clear King 
 Charles from the imputation of acting like a madman, 
 you must fii*st vindicate his integrity, and shew that 
 he never acted like an ill man. " But a king," you 
 say, " cannot commit treason against his own subjects 
 and vassals." In the first place, since we are as free as 
 any people under heaven, we will not be imposed upon 
 by any barbarous custom of any other nation whatso- 
 ever. In the second place, suppose we had been the 
 king's vassals; that relation would not have obliged 
 us to endure a tyrant to reign and lord it over us. All 
 subjection to magistrates, as our own laws declare, is 
 circumscribed, and confined within the bounds of ho- 
 nesty, and the public good. Read Ix;g. Hen. I. Cap. 
 55. The obligation betwixt a lord and his tenants is 
 mutual, and remains so long as the lord protects his te- 
 nant; (this is all our lawyers tell us;) but if the lord be 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 40i) 
 
 too severe and cruel to his tenant, and do him some 
 beinons injury, "The whole relation betwixt them, 
 and whatever obligation the tenant is under by having 
 done homage to his lord, is utterly dissolved and ex- 
 tinguished." These are the very words ol'Bracton and 
 Fleta. So that in some case, the law itself warrants 
 even a slave, or a vassal, to oppose his lord, and allows 
 the slave to kill him, if he vanquish him in battle. If 
 a city or a whole nation may not lawfully take this 
 course with a tyrant, the condition of freemen will be 
 worse than that of slaves. Then you go about to ex- 
 cuse King Charles's sheddingof innocent blood, partly 
 by murders committed by other kings, and partly by 
 some instances of men put to death by them lawfully. 
 For the matter of the Irish massacre, you refer the 
 reader to 'Eiicwv BaaiXiicTf ; and I refer you to Eicono- 
 clastes. The town of Rochel being taken, and the 
 townsmen betrayed, assistance shewn, but not afforded 
 them, you will not have laid at Charles's door; nor 
 have I any thing to say, whether he was faulty in that 
 business or not; he did mischief enough at home; we 
 need not inquire into what misdemeanours he was 
 guilty of abroad. But you in the mean time would 
 make all the protestant churches, that have at any time 
 defended themselves by force of arms against princes, 
 who were professed enemies of their religion, to have 
 been guilty of rebellion. Let them consider how much 
 it concerns them for the maintaining their ecclesiasti- 
 cal discipline, and asserting their own integrity, not to 
 pass by so great an indignity offered them by a person 
 bred up by and amonyst themselves. That which 
 troubles us most is, that the English likewise were be- 
 trayed, in that expedition. He, who had designed 
 long ago to convert the government of England into a 
 tyranny, thought he could not bring it to pass, till the 
 flower and strength of the military power of the nation 
 were cut off. Another of his crimes was, the causing 
 some words to be struck out of the usual coronation 
 oath, before he himself would lake it. Unworthy and 
 abominable action ! The act was wicked in itself; 
 what shall be said of him that undertakes to justify it? 
 For by the eternal God, M'hat greater breach of faith, 
 and violation of all laws, can possibly be imagined ? 
 What ought to be more sacred to him, next to the holy 
 sacraments themselves, than that oath .-' Which of the 
 two do you think the more flagitious person, him that 
 offends against the law, or him that endeavours to 
 make the law equally guilty with himself? Or rather 
 him who subverts the law itself, that he may not seem 
 to offend against it? For thus that king violated that 
 oath, which he ought most religiously to have sworn 
 to ; but that he might not seem openly and publicly to 
 violate it, he craftily adulterated and corrupted it; and 
 lest he himself should be accounted perjured, he turned 
 the very oath into a perjury. What other could be ex- 
 pected, than that his reign would be full of injustice, 
 craft, and misfortune, who began it with so detestable 
 an injury to his people ? And who durst pervert and 
 adulterate that law, which he thought the only obsta- 
 cle that stood in his wa}^, and hindered him from per- 
 verting all the rest of the laws : But " that oath " (thus 
 
 you justify him) " lays no other obligation upon kings, 
 than the laws themselves do : and kings pretend, that 
 they will be bound and limited by laws, though indeed 
 they are altogether from under the power of the laws." 
 Is it not prodigious, that a man should dare to express 
 himself so sacrilegiously and so senselessly, as to as- 
 sert, that an oath sacredly sworn upon the Holy Evan- 
 gelists, may be dispensed with, and set aside as a little 
 insignificant thing, without any cause whatsoever! 
 Charles himself refutes you, you prodigy of impiety, 
 who, thinking that oath no light matter, choose rather 
 by a subterfuge to avoid the force of it, or by a fallacy 
 to elude it, than openly to violate it ; and would rather 
 falsify and corrupt the oath, than manifestly forswear 
 himself after he had taken it. But " The king indeed 
 swears to his people, as the people do to him; but the 
 people swear fidelity to the king, not the king to them." 
 Pretty invention ! Does not he that promises, and binds 
 himself by an oath to do any thing to or for another, 
 oblige his fidelity to them that require the oath of him ? 
 Of a truth, every king swears Fidelity, and Service, 
 and Obedience to the people, with respect to the per- 
 formance of whatsoever he promises upon oath to do. 
 Then you run back to William the Conqueror, who 
 was forced more than once to swear to perform, not 
 what he himself would, but what the people and the 
 great men of the realm required of him. If many 
 kings "are crowned without the usual solemnity," and 
 reign without taking any oath, the same thing maybe 
 said of the people ; a great many of whom never took 
 the oath of allegiance. If the king by not taking an 
 oath be at liberty, the people are so too. And that part 
 of the people that has sworn, swore not to the king only, 
 but to the realm, and the laws, by which the king 
 came to his crown ; and no otherwise to the king, than 
 whilst he should act according to those laws, that 
 " the common People," that is, the house of Com- 
 mons, should choose; (quas vulgus elegerit.) For it 
 were folly to alter the phrase of our law, and turn 
 it into more genuine Latin. This clause, (quas 
 vulgus eleirerit,) which the commons shall choose, 
 Charles before he was crowned, procured to be razed 
 out. " But," say you, " without the king's assent the 
 people can choose no laws ;" and for this you cite two 
 statutes, viz. Anno 37 H. VI, Cap. 15, and 13 Edw. IV, 
 Cap. 8 : but these two statutes are so far from appear- 
 ing in our statute-books, that in the years you mention 
 neither of those kings enacted any laws at all. Go now 
 and complain, that those fugitives, who pretended to 
 furnish you with matter out of our statutes, imposed 
 upon you in it ; and let other people in the mean lime 
 stand astonished at your impudence and vanity, who 
 are not ashamed to pretend to be thoroughly versed in 
 such books, as it is so evident you have never looked 
 into, nor so much as seen. And that clause in the 
 coronation oath, which such a brazen-faced brawler as 
 you call fictitious, "The king's friends," you say your- 
 self, " acknowledge, that it may possibly be extant in 
 some ancient copies, but that it grew into disuse, be- 
 cause it had no convenient signification." But for 
 that very reason did our ancestors insert it in the oath. 
 
410 
 
 A DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 that the oath niisfht have such a sig'uification as would 
 not be for a tyrant's conveniency. If it had really 
 grown into disuse, which jet is most false, there was 
 the greater need of reviving it ; but even that would 
 have been to no purpose, accord ingf to your doctrine : 
 " For that custom of taking an oath, as kinjjs now-a- 
 days generally use it, is no more," you say, " than a 
 bare ceremony." And yet the king, when the bishops 
 were to be put down, pretended that he could not do it 
 by reason of that oath. And consequently that rever- 
 end and sacred oath, as it serves for the king's turn, or 
 not, must be solemn and binding, or an empty cere- 
 mony : which I earnestly entreat my countrymen to 
 take notice of, and to consider what manner of a king 
 they are like to have, if he ever come back. For it 
 would never have entered into the thoughts of this ras- 
 cally foreign grammarian, to write a discourse of the 
 rights of the crown of England, unless both Charles 
 Stuart now in banishment, and tainted with his father's 
 principles, and those pro6igate tutors that he has along 
 with him, had industriously suggested to him what 
 they would have writ. They dictated to him, " That 
 the whole parliament were liable to be proceeded 
 against as traitors, because they declared without the 
 king's assent all them to be traitors, who had taken up 
 arms against the parliament of England ; and that 
 parliaments were but the king's vassals : that the oath, 
 which our kings take at their coronation, is but a cere- 
 mony :" And why not that a vassal too .'' So that no 
 reverence of laws, no sacredness of an oath, will be 
 sufficient to protect your lives and fortunes, either from 
 the exorbitance of a furious, or the revenge of an ex- 
 asperated, prince, who has been so instructed from his 
 cradle, as to think laws, religion, nay, and oaths them- 
 selves, ought to be subject to his will and pleasure. 
 How much better is it, and more becoming yourselves, 
 if you desire riches, liberty, peace, and empire, to ob- 
 tain them assuredly by j'our own virtue, industry, pru- 
 dence, and valour, than to long after and hope for 
 them in vain under the rule of a king ? They who are 
 of opinion that these things cannot be compassed but 
 under a king, and a lord, it cannot well be expressed 
 how mean, how base, I do not say, how unworthy, 
 thoughts they have of themselves ; for in effect, what 
 do they other than confess, that they themselves are 
 lazy, weak, senseless, silly persons, and framed for 
 slavery both in body and mind ? And indeed all man- 
 ner of slavery is scandalous and disgraceful to a free- 
 bom ingenuous person ; but for you, after you have 
 recovered your lost liberty, by God's assistance, and 
 your own arms; after the performance of so many 
 valiant exploits, and the making so remarkable an ex- 
 ample of a most potent king, to desire to return again 
 into a condition of bondage and slavery, will not only 
 be scandalous and disgraceful, but an impious and 
 wicked thing ; and equal to that of the Israelites, who 
 for desiring to return to the Egyptian slavery were so 
 severely punished for that sordid, slavish temper of 
 mind, and so many of them destroyed by that God 
 who had been their deliverer. But what say you now, 
 who would persuade us to become slaves ? " The 
 
 king," say you, " had a power of pardoning such as 
 were guilty of treason, and other crimes ; which evinces 
 sufficiently, that the king himself was under no law." 
 The king might indeed pardon treason, not against the 
 kingdom, hut against himself; and so may any body 
 else pardon wrongs done to themselves; and he might, 
 perhaps, pardon some other offences, though not always. 
 But does it follow, because in some cases he had the 
 right of saving a malefactor's life, that therefore he 
 must have a right to destroy all good men ? If the 
 king be impleaded in an inferiour court, be is not 
 obliged to answer, but by his attorney : does it there- 
 fore follow, that when he is summoned by all his sub- 
 jects to appear in parliament, he may choose whether 
 he will appear or no, and refuse to answer in person ? 
 You say, " That we endeavour to justify what we 
 have done by the Hollanders' example;" and upon 
 this occasion, fearing the loss of that stipend with 
 which the Hollanders feed such a murrain and pest as 
 you are, if by reviling the English you should con- 
 sequently reflect upon them that maintain you, you 
 endeavour to demonstrate " how unlike their actions 
 and ours are." The comparison that you make be- 
 twixt them I resolve to omit (though many things in 
 it are most false, and other things flattery all over, 
 which yet you thought yourself obliged to put down, 
 to deserve your pension). For the English think 
 they need not allege the examples of foreigners for 
 their justification. They have municipal laws of 
 their own, by which they have acted ; laws with rela- 
 tion to the matter in hand the best in the world : they 
 have the examples of their ancestors, great and gal- 
 lant men, for their imitation, who never gave way to 
 the exorbitant power of princes, and who have put 
 many of them to death, when their government be- 
 came insupportable. They were born free, they stand 
 in need of no other nation, they can make what laws 
 they please for their own good government. One 
 law in particular they have a great veneration for, 
 and a very ancient one it is, enacted by nature itself, 
 That all human laws, all civil right and government, 
 must have a respect to the safety and welfare of good 
 men, and not be subject to the lusts of princes. From 
 hence to the end of your book I find nothing but rub- 
 bish and trifles, picked out of the former chapters ; of 
 which you have here raised so great a heap, that I can- 
 not imagine what other design you could have in it, 
 than to presage the ruin of your whole fabric. At last, 
 after an infinite deal of tittle-tattle, you make an end, 
 calling " God to witness, that you undertook the de- 
 fence of this cause, not only because you were desired 
 so to do, but because your own conscience told you, 
 that you could not possibly undertake the defence of a 
 better." Is it fit for you to intermeddle with our 
 matters, with which you have nothing to do, because 
 you were desired, when we ourselves did not desire 
 you .-* to reproach with contumelious and opprobrious 
 language, and in a printed book, the supreme magis- 
 tracy of the English nation, when according to the 
 authority and power that they are intrusted with, they 
 do but their duty within their own jurisdiction, and all 
 
IN ANSWER TO SALMASIUS'S DEFENCE OF THE KING. 
 
 411 
 
 this without the least injury or provocation from them? 
 (for they did not so much as know that there was such 
 a man in the world as you.) And I pray by whom 
 were you desired ? By your wife, I suppose, who, they 
 say, exercises a king-ly rig-bt and jurisdiction over you; 
 and whenever she has a mind to it (as Fulvia is made 
 to speak in that obscene epigram, that you collected 
 some centoes out of, page 320) cries, " Either write, or 
 let us fight;" that made you write perhaps, lest the 
 signal should be given. Or were you asked by Charles 
 the younger, and that profligate gang of vagabond 
 courtiers, and like a second Balaam called upon by an- 
 other Balak to restore a desperate cause by ill writing, 
 that was lost by ill fighting ? That may be ; but there 
 is this diflTerence, for he was a wise understanding man, 
 and rid upon an ass that could speak, to curse the 
 people of God: thou art a very talkative ass thyself, 
 and rid by a woman, and being surrounded with the 
 healed heads of the bishops, that heretofore thou hadst 
 wounded, thou seemest to represent that beast in the 
 Revelation. But they say, that a little after you had 
 written this book you repented of what you had done. 
 It is well, if it be so; and to make your repentance 
 public, I think the best course that you can take will 
 be, for this long book that you have writ, to take a 
 halter, and make one long letter of yourself So Judas 
 Iscariot repented, to whom you are like ; and that 
 young Charles knew, which made him send you the 
 purse, Judas his badge ; for he had heard before, and 
 found afterward by experience, that you were an apos- 
 tate and a devil. Judas betrayed Christ himself, and 
 you betray bis church ; you have taught heretofore, 
 that bishops were antichristian, and you are now re- 
 volted to their party. You now undertake the defence 
 of their cause, whom formerly you damned to the pit 
 of hell. Christ delivered all men from bondage, and 
 you endeavour to enslave all mankind. Never ques- 
 tion, since you have been such a villain to God him- 
 self, his church, and all mankind in general, but that 
 the same fate attends you that befell your equal, out 
 of despair rather than repentance, to be weary of your 
 life, and hang youreelf, and burst asunder as he did ; 
 and to send before-hand that faithless and treacherous 
 conscience of yours, that railing conscience at good 
 and holy men, to that place of torment that is prepared 
 for you. And now I think, through God's assistance, 
 I have finished the work I undertook, to wit, the de- 
 fence of the noble actions of my countrymen at home, 
 and abroad, against the raging and envious madness 
 of this distracted sophister; and the asserting of the 
 common rights of the people against the unjust domi- 
 nation of kings, not out of any hatred to kings, but ty- 
 rants : nor have I purposely left unanswered any one 
 argument alleged by my adversary, nor any one ex- 
 ample or authority quoted by him, that seemed to have 
 any force in it, or the least colour of an argument. 
 Perhaps I have been guilty rather of the other extreme, 
 of replying to some of his fooleries and trifles, as if they 
 
 were solid arguments, and thereby may seem to have 
 attributed more to them than they deserved. One thing 
 yet remains to be done, which perhaps is of the greatest 
 concern of all, and that is, that you, my countrymen, 
 refute this adversary of yours yourselves, which I do 
 not see any other means of your effecting, than by a 
 constant endeavour to outdo ail men's bad words by 
 your own good deeds. When you laboured under more 
 sorts of oppression than one, you betook yourselves to 
 God for refuge, and he was graciously pleased to hear 
 your most earnest prayer and desires. He has glo- 
 riously delivered you, the first of nations, from the two 
 greatest mischiefs of this life, and most pernicious to 
 virtue, tyranny and superstition ; he has endued you 
 with greatness of mind to be the first of mankind, who 
 after having conquered their own king, and having had 
 him delivered into their hands, have not scrupled to con- 
 demn him judicially, and pursuant to that sentence of 
 condemnation, to put him to death. After the performing 
 so glorious an action as this, you ought to do nothing 
 that is mean and little, not so much as to think of, 
 much less to do, any thing but what is great and sub- 
 lime. Which to attain to, this is your only way ; as you 
 have subdued your enemies in the field, so to make ap- 
 pear, that unarmed, and in the highest outward peace and 
 tranquillity, you of all mankind are best able to subdue 
 ambition, avarice, the love of riches, and can best avoid 
 the corruptions that prosperity is apt to introd uce, (which 
 generally subdue and triumph over other nations,) to 
 shew as great justice, temperance, and moderation in 
 the maintaining your liberty, as you have shewn cou- 
 rage in freeing yourselves from slavery. These are 
 the only arguments, 'by which you will be able to 
 evince, that you are not such persons as this fellow re- 
 presents you. Traitors, Robbers, Murderers, Parricides, 
 Madmen ; that you did not put your king to death out 
 of any ambitious design, or a desire of invading the 
 rights of others, not out of any seditious principles or 
 sinister ends ; that it was not an act of fury or mad- 
 ness ; but that it was wholly out of love to your liberty, 
 your religion, to justice, virtue, and your country, that 
 you punished a tyrant. But if it should fall out other- 
 wise, (which God forbid,) if as you have been valiant 
 in war, you should grow debauched in peace, you that 
 have had such visible demonstrations of the goodness 
 of God to yourselves, and his wrath against your 
 enemies ; and that you should not have learned by so 
 eminent, so remarkable an example before your eyes, 
 to fear God, and work righteousness; for my part, I 
 shall easily grant and confess (for I cannot deny it) 
 whatever ill men may speak or think of you, to be 
 very true. And you will find in a little time, that 
 God's displeasure against you will be greater than 
 it has been against your adversaries, greater than his 
 grace and favour has been to yourselves, which you 
 have had larger experience of than any other nation 
 under heaven. 
 
TREATISE 
 
 CIVIL POWER IN ECCLESIASTICAL CAUSES; 
 
 THAT IT IS NOT LAWFUL FOR ANY POWER ON EARTH TO 
 COMPEL IN MATTERS OF RELIGION. 
 
 [riKST PVBLISUID 1659.] 
 
 TO THE PARLIAMENT OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF ENGLAND, WITH THE DOMINIONS THEREOF. 
 
 I HAVE prepared, Supreme Coancil ! against the much- 
 expected time of your sitting, this treatise; which, 
 though to all christian magistrates equally belonging, 
 and therefore to have been written in the common lan- 
 guage of Christendom, natural duty and affection hath 
 confined and dedicated first to my own nation ; and 
 in a season wherein the timely reading thereof, to the 
 easier accomplishment of your great work, may save 
 you much labour and interruption : of two parts usu- 
 ally proposed, civil and ecclesiastical, recommending 
 civil only to your proper care, ecclesiastical to them 
 only from whom it takes both that name and nature. 
 Yet not for this cause only do I require or trust to find 
 acceptance, but in a twofold respect besides : first, as 
 bringing clear evidence of scripture and protestant 
 maxims to the parliamentof England, who in all their 
 late acts, upon occasion, have professed to assert only 
 the true protestant christian religion, as it is contained 
 in the Holy Scriptures : next, in regard that your 
 power being but for a time, and having in yourselves 
 a christian liberty of your own, which at one time or 
 other may be oppressed, thereof truly sensible, it will 
 concern you while you are in power, so to regard other 
 men's consciences, as you would your own should be 
 regarded in the power of others ; and to consider that 
 any law against conscience is alike in force against 
 any conscience, and so may one way or other justly 
 redound upon yourselves. One advantage I make no 
 doubt of, that I shall write to many eminent persons 
 of your number, already perfect and resolved in this 
 important article of Christianity. Some of whom I re- 
 
 member to have beard often for several years, at a 
 council next in authority to your own, so well joining 
 religion with civil prudence, and yet so well distin- 
 guishing the diflTerent power of either; and this not 
 only voting, but frequently reasoning why it should be 
 so, that if any there present had been before of an opinion 
 contrary, he might doubtless have departed thence a 
 convert in that point, and have confessed, that then 
 both common wealth and religion will at length, if ever, 
 flourish in Christendom, when either they who govern 
 discern between civil and religious, or they only who so 
 discern shall be admitted to govern. Till then, nothing 
 but troubles, persecutions, commotions can be expected; 
 the inward decay of true religion among ourselves, and 
 the utter overthrow at last by a common enemy. Of 
 civil liberty I have written heretofore, by the appoint- 
 ment, and not without the approbation, of civil power : 
 of christian liberty I write now, which others long 
 since having done with all freedom under heathen em- 
 perors, I should do wrong to suspect, that I now shall 
 with less under christian governors, and such especi- 
 ally as profess openly their defence of christian liber- 
 ty ; although I write this, not otherwise appointed or 
 induced, than by an inward persuasion of the christian 
 duty, which I may usefully discharge herein to the 
 common Lord and Master of us all, and the certain hope 
 of his approbation, first and chiefest to be sought: in 
 the hand of whose providence I remain, praying all 
 success and good event on your public councils, to the 
 defence of true religion and our civil rights. 
 
 John Miltov. 
 
A TREATISE 
 
 CIVIL POWER IN ECCLESIASTICAL CAUSES. 
 
 Two things there be, which have been ever found 
 working' much mischief to the church of God, and the 
 advancement of truth ; force on one side restraining, 
 and hire on the otlier side corrupting, the teachers there- 
 of Few ages have been since the ascension of our 
 Saviour, wherein the one of these two, or both toge- 
 ther, have not prevailed. It can be at no time, there- 
 fore, unseasonable to speak of these things; since by 
 them the church is either in continual detriment and 
 oppression, or in continual danger. The former shall be 
 at this time my argument ; the latter as I shall find God 
 disposing me, and opportunity inviting. What I argue, 
 shall be drawn from the Scripture only ; and therein 
 from true fundamental principles of the gospel, to all 
 kno\ving Christians undeniable. And if the governors 
 of this commonwealth, since the rooting out of prelates, 
 have made least use of force in religion, and most have 
 favoured christian liberty of any in this island before 
 them since the first preaching of the gospel, for which 
 we are not to forget our thanks to God, and their due 
 praise; tliey may, I doubt not, in this treatise, find 
 that which not only will confirm them to defend still 
 the christian liberty which we enjoy, but will incite 
 them also to enlarge it, if in aught they yet straiten 
 it. To them who perhaps hereafter, less experienced 
 in religion, may come to govern or give us laws, this 
 or other such, if they please, may be a timely instruc- 
 tion : however, to the truth it will be at all times no 
 unueedful testimony, at least some discharge of that 
 general duty, which no Christian, but according to what 
 he hath received, knows is required of him, if he have 
 aught more conducing to the advancement of religion, 
 than what is usually endeavoured, freely to impart it. 
 It will require no great labour of exposition, to un- 
 fold what is here meant by matters of religion ; being 
 as soon apprehended as defined, such things as belong 
 chiefly to the knowledge and service of God ; and are 
 either above the reach and light of nature without re- 
 velation from above, and therefore liable to be variously 
 understood by human reason, or such things as are en- 
 joined or forbidden by divine precept, which else by 
 the light of reason would seem indifferent to be done 
 or not done; and so likewise must needs appear to 
 every man as the precept is understood. Whence I 
 here mean by conscience or religion that full per- 
 suasion, whereby we are assured, that our belief and 
 practice, as far as we are able to apprehend and pro- 
 
 bably make appear, is according to the will of God 
 and his Holy Spirit within us, which we ought to fol- 
 low much rather than any law of man, as not only his 
 word every where bids us, but the very dictate of rea- 
 son tells us. Acts iv. 19. " Whether it be right in the 
 sight of God, to hearken to you more than to God, 
 judge ye." That for belief or practice in religion, ac- 
 cording to this conscientious persuasion, no man ought 
 to be punished or molested by any outward force on 
 earth whatsoever, I distrust not, through God's im- 
 plored assistance, to make plain by these following 
 arguments. 
 
 First, it cannot be denied, being the main foundation 
 of our protestant religion, that we of these ages, having 
 no other divine rule or authority from without us, war- 
 rantable to one another as a common ground, but the 
 Holy Scripture, and no other within us but the illumina- 
 tion of the Holy Spirit so interpreting that scripture as 
 warrantable only to ourselves, and to such whose con- 
 sciences we can so persuade, can have no other ground in 
 matters of religion but only from the Scriptures. And 
 these being not possible to be understood without this 
 divine illumination, which no man can know at all 
 times to be in himself, much less to be at any time 
 for certain in any other, it follows clearly, that no man 
 or body of men in these times can be the infalli- 
 ble judges or determiners in matters of religion to any 
 other men's consciences but their own. And there- 
 fore those Bereans are commended. Acts xvii. 11, who 
 after the preaching even of St. Paul, " searched the 
 Scriptures daily, whether those things were so." Nor 
 did they more than what God himself in many places 
 commands us by the same apostle, to search, to try, to 
 judge of these things ourselves: and gives us reason 
 also, Gal. vi. 4, 5, " Let every man prove his own 
 work, and then shall he have rejoicing in himself alone, 
 and not in another: for every man shall bear his own 
 burden." If then we count it so ignorant and irreli- 
 gious in the papist, to think himself discharged in 
 God's account, believing only as the church believes, 
 how much greater condemnation will it be to the pro- 
 testant his condemner, to think himself justified, be- 
 lieving only as the state believes ? With good cause, 
 therefore, it is the general consent of all sound pro- 
 testant writers, that neither traditions, councils, nor 
 canons of any visible church, much less edicts of any 
 magistrate or civil session, but the Scripture only, can 
 
414 
 
 A TREATISE OF CIVIL POWER 
 
 be the final judge or rule in matters of religion, and 
 that only in the conscience of every chrii>tian to him- 
 self. Which protestation made by the first public re- 
 formers of our religion against the imperiul edicts of 
 Charles the fifth, imposing church-traditions without 
 Scripture, gave first beginning to the name of Protes- 
 tant ; and with that name hath erer been received this 
 doctrine, which prefers the Scripture before the church, 
 and acknowledges none but the Scripture sole inter- 
 preter of itself to the conscience. For if the church be 
 not sufficient to be implicitly believed, as we bold it is 
 not, what can there else be named of more authority 
 than the church but the conscience, than which God 
 only is greater, I John iii. 20.'' But if any man shall 
 pretend that the Scripture judges to his conscience for 
 other men, he makes himself greater not only than the 
 church, but also than the Scripture, than the consciences 
 of other men : a presumption too high for any mortal, 
 since every true Christian, able to give a reason of his 
 faith, hath the word of God before him, the promised 
 Holy Spirit, and the mind of Christ within him, 1 Cor. 
 ii. 16; a much better and safer guide of conscience, 
 which as far as concerns himself he may far more cer- 
 tainly know, than any outward rule imposed upon him 
 by others, whom he inwardly neither knows nor can 
 know ; at least knows nothing of them more sure than 
 this one thing, that they cannot be his judges in reli- 
 gion. 1 Cor. ii. 15, " The spiritual man judgeth all 
 tilings, but he himself is judged of no man." Chiefly 
 for this cause do all true protestants account the pope 
 Antichrist, for that he assumes to himself this infalli- 
 bility over both the conscience and the Scripture ; " sit- 
 ting in the temple of God," as it were opposite to God, 
 " and exalting himself above all that is called God, or 
 is worshipped," 2 Thess. ii. 4. That is to say, not only 
 above all judges and niai<istrates, who though they be 
 called gods, are far beneath infallible ; but also above 
 God himself, by giving law both to the Scripture, to the 
 conscience, and to the Spirit itself of God within us. 
 Wbenas we find, James iv. 12, " There is one lawgiver, 
 who is able to save and to destroy : Who art thou that 
 judgest another ?" That Christ is the only lawgiver of 
 his church, and that it is here meant in religious mat- 
 ters, no well-grounded Christian will deny. Thus also 
 St. Paul, Rom. xiv. 4, " Who art thou that judgest the 
 servant of another ? to his own lord he standetfa or 
 falletb : but he shall stand ; for God is able to make 
 him stand." As therefore of one beyond expression 
 bold and presumptuous, both these apostles demand, 
 " Who art thou," that presumes! to impose other law 
 or judgment in religion than the only lawgiver and 
 judge Christ, who only can save and destroy, gives to 
 the conscience ."* And the forecited place to the Thes- 
 salonians, by c')mpared efl*ects, resolves us, that be he 
 or they who or wherever they be or can be, they are of 
 far less authority than the church, whom in these things 
 as protestants they receive not, and yet no less Anti- 
 christ in this main point of Antichristianism, no less a 
 pope or popedom than he at Rome, if not much more, 
 by setting up supreme interpreters of Scripture either 
 those doctors whom they follow, or, which is far worse, 
 
 themselves as a civil papacy assuming unaccountable 
 supremacy to themselves, not in civil only, but in eccle- 
 siastical causes. Seeing then that in matters of reli- 
 gion, as hath been proved,nonecan judge or determine 
 here on earth, no not church-governors themselves, 
 against the consciences of other believers, my inference 
 is, or rather not mine but our Saviour's own, that in 
 those matters they neither can command nor use con- 
 straint, lest they run rashly on a pernicious consequence, 
 forewarned in that parable. Matt. xiii. from the 29tb to 
 the 31st verse : " Lest while ye gather up the tares, ye 
 root up also the wheat with them. Let both grow to- 
 gether until the harvest : and in the time of harvest I 
 will say to the reapers. Gather ye together first the 
 tares," &c. Whereby he declares, that this work 
 neither his own ministers nor any else can discern- 
 ingly enough or jiidgingly perform without his own 
 immediate direction, in his own fit season, and that 
 they ought till then not to attempt it. Which is 
 further confirmed, 2 Cor. i. 24, " Not that we have 
 dominion over your faith, but are helpers of your 
 joy." If apostles had no dominion or constraining 
 power over faith or conscience, much less have ordinary 
 ministers, 1 Pet. v. 2, 3, " Feed the flock of God, &c. 
 not by constraint, neither as being lords over God's 
 heritage." But some will object, that this overthrows 
 all church-discipline, all censure of errours, if no man 
 can determine. My answer is, that what they hear is 
 plain Scripture, which forbids not church-sentence or 
 determining, but as it ends in violence upon the con- 
 science unconvinced. Let whoso will interpret or de- 
 termine, so it be according to true church-discipline, 
 which is exercised on them only who have willingly 
 joined themselves in that covenant of union, and pro- 
 ceeds only to a separation from the rest, proceeds never 
 to any corporal inforcement or forfeiture of money, 
 which in all spiritual things are tbe two arms of Anti- 
 christ, not of the true church ; the one being an inqui- 
 sition, the other no better than a temporal indulgence 
 of sin for money, whether by the churcli exacted or 
 by the magistrate; both the one and the other a 
 temporal satisfaction for what Christ hath satisfied 
 eternally; a popish commuting of penalty, corporal 
 for spiritual ; a satisfaction to man, especially to the 
 magistrate, for what and to whom we owe none : these 
 and more are the injustices of force and fining in 
 religion, besides what I most insist on, the violation of 
 God's express commandment in the gospel, as hath 
 been shewn. Thus then, if church-governors cannot 
 use force in religion, though but for this reason, be- 
 cause they cannot infallibly determine to the conscience 
 without convincement, much less have civil magis- 
 trates authority to use force where they can much less 
 judge; unless they mean only to be the civil execu- 
 tioners of them who have no civil power to give them 
 such commission, no, nor yet ecclesiastical, to any 
 force or violence in religion. To sum up all in brief, 
 if we must believe as the magistrate appoints, why not 
 rather as the church ? If not as either without con- 
 vincement, how can force be lawful ? But some are 
 ready to cry out, what shall then be done to bias- 
 
IN ECCLESIASTICAL CAUSES. 
 
 415 
 
 phemy ? Them I would first exhort, not thus to terrify 
 and pose the people with a Greek word ; but to teach 
 them better what it is, being' a most usual and common 
 word in that lanj^uage to sig-nify any slander, any ma- 
 licious or evil speaking", whether against God or man, 
 or any thing- to good belonging : Blasphemy or evil 
 speaking against God maliciously, is far from con- 
 science in religion, according to that of Mark ix. 39, 
 " There is none who doth a powerful work in my 
 name, and can lightly speak evil of me." If this suf- 
 fice not, I refer them to that prudent and well delibe- 
 rated act, August 9, 1650, where the parliament de- 
 fines blasphemy against God, as far as it is a crime be- 
 longing to civil judicature, plenius ac melius Chrysippo 
 etCrantore; in plain English, more warily, more ju- 
 diciously, more orthodoxally than twice their number 
 of divines have done in many a prolix volume: al- 
 though in all likelihood they whose whole study and 
 profession these things are, should be most intelligent 
 and authentic therein, as they are for the most part, yet 
 neither they nor these unerring always, or infallible. 
 But we shall not carry it thus; another Greek appari- 
 tion stands in our way. Heresy and Heretic ; in like 
 manner also railed at to the people as in a tongue un- 
 known. They should first interpret to tiiem, that he- 
 resy, by what it signifies in that language, is iio word 
 of evil note, meaning only the choice or following of 
 any opinion good or bad in religion, or any other 
 learning : and thus not only in heathen authors, but in 
 the New Testament itself, without censure or blame; 
 Acts XV. 5, " Certain of the heresy of the Pharisees 
 which believed ;" and xxvi. 5, "After the exactest he- 
 resy of our religion I lived a Pharisee." In which 
 tense presbyterian or independent may without re- 
 proach be called a heresy. Where it is mentioned 
 with blame, it seems to differ little from schism ; 1 
 Cor. xi. 18, 19, " I hear that there be schisms among 
 you," &c. for there must also heresies be among you, 
 &c. Though some, who write of heresy after their 
 own beads, would make it far worse than schism ; 
 whenas on the contrary, schism signifies division, and 
 in the worst sense; heresy, choice only of one opinion 
 before another, which may be without discord. In 
 apostolic times, therefore, ere the Scripture was writ- 
 ten, heresy was a doctrine maintained against the doc- 
 trine by them delivered ; which in these times can be 
 no otherwise defined than a doctrine maintained against 
 the light which we now only have, of the Scripture. 
 Seeing therefore, that no man, no synod, no session o 
 men, though called the Church, can judge definitively 
 the sense of Scripture to another man's conscience, 
 which is well known to be a general maxim of the 
 protestant religion ; it follows plainly, that he who 
 holds in religion that belief, or those opinions, which 
 to his conscience and utmost understanding- appear 
 with most evidence or probability in the Scripture, 
 though to others he seem erroneous, can no more be 
 justly censured for a heretic than his censurers ; wh{> 
 do but the same thing themselves, while they censure 
 him for so doing. For ask them, or any protestant, 
 which hath most authority, the church or the Scrip- 
 
 ture ? They will answer, doubtless, that the Scrip- 
 ture : and what hath most authority, that no doubt but 
 they will confess is to be followed. He then, who to 
 his best apprehension follows the Scripture, thoug-h 
 against any point of doctrine by the whole church re- 
 ceived, is not the heretic; but he who follows the 
 church against his conscience and persuasion grounded 
 on the Scripture. To make this yet more undeniable, 
 I shall only borrow a plain simile, the same which our 
 own writers, when they would demonstrate plainest, 
 that we rightly prefer the Scripture before the church, 
 use frequently against the papist in this manner. As 
 the Samaritans believed Christ, first for the woman's 
 word, but next and much rather for his own, so we the 
 Scripture : first on the church's word, but afterwards 
 and much more for its own, as the word of God ; yea, 
 the church itself we believe then for the Scripture. The 
 inference of itself follows: if by the protestant doc- 
 trine we believe the Scripture, not for the church's 
 saying, but for its own, as the word of God, then ought 
 we to believe what in our conscience we apprehend the 
 Scripture to say, though the visible church, with all her 
 doctors, gainsay: and being taught to believe them 
 only for the Scripture, they who so do are not heretics, 
 but the best protestants : and by their opinions, what- 
 ever they be, can hurt no protestant, whose rule is not 
 to receive them but from the Scripture ; which to inter- 
 pret convincingly to his own conscience, none is able 
 but himself guided by the Holy Spirit; and not so 
 guided, none than he to himself can be a worse deceiver. 
 To protestants, therefore, whose common rule and touch- 
 stone is the Scripture, nothing can with more conscience, 
 more equity, nothing more protestantly can be permit- 
 ted, than a free and lawful debate at all times by writ- 
 ing, conference, or disputation of what opinion soever, 
 disputable by Scripture : concluding, that no man in re- 
 ligion is properly a heretic at this day, but he who main- 
 tains traditions or opinions not probable by Scripture, 
 who, for aught I know, is the papist only ; he the only he- 
 retic, who counts all heretics but himself Such as these, 
 indeed, were capitally punished by the law of Moses, 
 as the only true heretics, idolaters, plain and open de- 
 serters of God and his known law : but in the gospel 
 such are punished by excommunion only. Tit. iii. 10, 
 " An heretic, after the first and second admonition, re- 
 ject." But they who think not this heavy enough, 
 and understand not that dreadful awe and spiritual 
 efficacy, which the apostle hath expressed so highly 
 to be in church-discipline, 2 Cor. x. of which anon, and 
 think weakly that the church of God cannot long sub- 
 sist but in a bodily fear, for want of other proof will 
 needs wrest that place of St. Paul, Rom. xiii. to set up 
 civil inquisition, and give power to the magistrate both 
 of civil judgment, and punishment in causes ecclesi- 
 astical. But let us see with what strength of argu- 
 ment; "let every soul be subject to the higher powers." 
 First, how prove they that the apostle means other 
 powers, than such as they to whom he writes were 
 then under ; who meddled not at all in ecclesiastical 
 causes, unless as tyrants and persecutors ? And from 
 them, I hope, they will not derive either the right of 
 
416 
 
 A TREATISE Ol- CIVIL TOWER 
 
 mao^istrates to judge in spiritual things, or tiie duty of 
 such our obedience. H(»w prove they next, that he 
 entitles them here to spiritual causes, from whom he 
 withheld, as much as iu him lay, the judging of civil? 
 1 Cor. Ti. 1, Sec. If he himself appealed to Ceesar, it 
 M-as to judge his innocence, not his religion. " For 
 rulers are not a terrour to good works, hut to the evil :" 
 then are they not a terrour to conscience, which is the 
 rule or judge of good works grounded on the Scripture. 
 But heresy, they say, is reckoned among evil works. 
 Gal. v. 20, as if all evil works were to be punished by 
 the magistrate ; whereof this place, their own citation, 
 reckons up besides heresy a sufficient number to con- 
 fute them; " uncleanness, wantonness, enmity, strife, 
 emulations, animosities, contentions, envyings ;" all 
 ■which are far more manifest to be judged by him than 
 heresy, as they define it ; and yet I suppose they will 
 not subject these evil works, nor many more suchlike, 
 ♦o his cognizance and punishment. '• Wilt thou then 
 not be afraid of the power? Do that which is good, 
 and thou shalt have praise of the same." This shews 
 that religious matters are not here meant ; wherein 
 from the power here spoken of, they could have no 
 praise : " For he is the minister of God to thee for 
 good :" True ; but in that office, and to that end, and 
 by those means, which in this place must be clearly 
 found, if from this place they intend to argue. And 
 how, for thy good by forcing, oppressing, and ensnar- 
 ing thy conscience ? Many are the ministers of God, 
 and their offices no less different than many ; none 
 more different than state and church government. 
 Who seeks to govern both, must needs be worse than 
 any lord prelate, or church pluralist: for he in his own 
 faculty and profession, the other not in his own, and 
 for the most part not thoroughly understood, makes 
 himself supreme lord or pope of the church, as far as 
 his civil jurisdiction stretches; and all the ministers of 
 God therein, his ministers, or his curates rather in the 
 function only, not in the government ; while he him- 
 self assumes to rule by civil power things to be ruled 
 only by spiritual : whenas this very chapter, verse 6, 
 appointing him his peculiar office, which requires ut- 
 most attendance, forbids him this worse than church 
 plurality from that full and weighty charge, wherein 
 alone he is " the minister of God, attending continually 
 on this very thing." To little purpose will they here 
 instance Moses, who did all by immediate divine di- 
 rection ; no nor yet Asa, Jehosaphat, or Josiab, who 
 both might, when they pleased, receive answer from 
 God, and had a commonwealth by him delivered them, 
 incorporated with a national church, exercised more in 
 bodily than in spiritual worship: so as that the church 
 might be called a commonwealth, and the whole com- 
 monwealth a church : nothing of which can be said of 
 Christianity, delivered without the help of magistrates, 
 yea, in the midst of their opposition ; how little then 
 with any reference to them, or mention of them, save 
 only of our obedience to their civil laws, as they coun- 
 tenance good, and deter evil ? which is the proper work 
 of the magistrate, following in the same verse, and 
 shews distinctly wherein he is the minister of God, " a 
 
 revenger to execute wrath on him that doth evil." 
 But we must first know w ho it is that doth evil : the 
 heretic they say among the first. Let it be known 
 then certainly who is a heretic ; and that he who holds 
 opinions in religion professedly from tradition, or his 
 own inventions, and not from Scripture, but rather 
 against it, is the only heretic : and yet though such, 
 not always punishable by the magistrate, unless he do 
 evil against a civil law, properly so called, hath been 
 already proved, without need of repetition. " But if 
 thou do that which is evil, be afraid." To do by 
 Scripture and the gospel, according to conscience, is 
 not to do evil ; if we thereof ought not to be afraid, he 
 ought not by his judging to give cause : causes there- 
 fore of religion are not here meant. " For he bcareth 
 not the sword in vain." Yes, altogether in vain, if it 
 smite he knows not what; if that for heresy, which 
 not the church itself, much less he, can determine ab- 
 solutely to be so ; if truth for errour, being himself so 
 often fallible, he bears the sword not in vain only, but 
 unjustly and to evil. " Be subject not only for wrath, 
 but for conscience sake :" How for conscience sake, 
 against conscience ? By all these reasons it appears 
 plainly, that the apostle in this place gives no judg- 
 ment or coercive power to magistrates, neither to 
 those then, nor these now, in matters of religion ; and 
 exhorts us no otherwise than he exhorted those 
 Romans. It hath now twice befallen me to assert, 
 through God's assistance, this most wrested and vexed 
 place of Scripture ; heretofore against Salmasius, and 
 regal tyranny over the state ; now against Erastus, 
 and state tyranny over the church. If from such un- 
 certain, or rather such improbable, grounds as these, 
 they endue magistracy with spiritual judgment, 
 they may as well inviest him in the same spiritual 
 kind with power of utmost punishment, e.vcommu- 
 nication ; and then turn spiritual into corporal, as no 
 worse authors did than Chrysostom, Jerome, and 
 Austin, whom Erasmus and others in their notes on 
 the New Testament have cited, to interpret that cut- 
 ting off which St. Paul wished to them who had brought 
 back the Galatians to circumcision, no less than the 
 amercement of their whole virility : and Grotius adds, 
 that this concising punishment of circumcisers became 
 a penal law thereupon among the Visigoths : a dan- 
 gerous example of beginning in the spirit to end so in 
 the flesh ; whereas that cutting off much likelier seems 
 meant a cutting off from the church, not unusually so 
 termed in Scripture, and a zealous imprecation, not a 
 command. But 1 have mentioned this passage to shew 
 how absurd they often prove, who have not learned to 
 distinguish rightly between civil power and ecclesias- 
 tical. How many persecutions then, imprisonments, 
 banishments, penalties, and stripes ; how much blood- 
 shed have the forcers of conscience to answer for, and 
 protestants rather than papists! For the papist, judg- 
 ing by his principles, punishes them who believe not 
 as the church believes, though against the Scripture ; 
 but the protcstant, teaching every one to believe the 
 Scripture, though against the church, counts heretical, 
 and persecutes against his own principles, them who 
 
IN ECCLESIASTICAL CAUSES. 
 
 417 
 
 in any particular so believe as he in general teaches 
 them ; them who most honour and believe divine Scrip- 
 ture, but not ag'ainst it any human interpretation though 
 universal ; them who interpret Scripture only to them- 
 selves, which by his own position, none but they to 
 themselves can interpret : them who use the Scripture 
 no otherwise by his own doctrine to their edification, 
 than he himself uses it to their punishing- ; and so 
 whom his doctrine acknowledges a true believer, his 
 discipline persecutes as a heretic. The papist exacts 
 our belief as to the church due above Scripture; and 
 by the church, which is the whole people of God, 
 understands the pope, the general councils, prelatical 
 only, and the surnanied fathers : but the forcing pro- 
 testant, though he deny such belief to any church what- 
 soever, yet takes it to himself and his teachers, of far 
 less authority than to be called the church, and above 
 Scripture believed : which renders his practice both 
 contrary to his belief, and far worse than that belief, 
 which he condemns in the papist. By all which, well 
 considered, the more he professes to be a true protest- 
 ant, the more he hath to answer for his persecuting 
 than a papist. No protestant therefore, of what sect 
 soever, following Scripture only, which is the common 
 sect wherein they all agree, and the granted rule of 
 every man's conscience to himself, ought by the com- 
 mon doctrine of protestants, to be forced or molested 
 for religion. But as for popery and idolatry, why they 
 also may not hence plead to be tolerated, I have much 
 less to say. Their religion the more considered, the 
 less can be acknowledged a religion ; but a Roman 
 principality rather, endeavouring to keep up her old 
 universal dominion under a new name, and mere sha- 
 dow of a catholic religion; being indeed more rightly 
 named a catholic heresy against the Scripture, sup- 
 ported mainly by a civil, and except in Rome, by a 
 foreign, power : justly therefore to be suspected, not 
 tolerated by the magistrate of another country. Be- 
 sides, of an implicit faith which they profess, the con- 
 science also becomes implicit, and so by voluntary ser- 
 vitude to man's law, forfeits her christian liberty. 
 Who then can plead for such a conscience, as being 
 implicitly enthralled to man instead of God, almost 
 becomes no conscience, as the will not free, becomes 
 no will ? Nevertheless, if they ought not to be tolerated, 
 it is for just reason of state, more than of religion ; 
 which they who force, though professing to be protest- 
 ants, deserve as little to be tolerated themselves, being 
 no less guilty of popery, in the most popish point. 
 Lastly, for idolatry, who knows it not to be evidently 
 against all Scripture, both of the Old and New Testa- 
 ment, and therefore a true heresy, or rather an impiety, 
 wherein a right conscience can have nought to do ; and 
 the works thereof so manifest, that a magistrate can 
 hardly err in prohibiting and quite removing at least 
 ihe public and scandalous use thereof? 
 
 From the riddance of these objections, I proceed yet 
 to another reason why it is unlawful for the civil ma- 
 gistrate to use force in matters of religion ; which is, 
 because to judge in those things, thougii we should 
 grant him able, which is proved he is not, yet as a 
 
 civil magistrate he hath no right. Christ hath a go- 
 vernment of his own, sufficient of itself to all his ends 
 and purposes in governing his church, but much dif- 
 ferent from that of the civil magistrate ; and the dif- 
 ference in this very thing principally consists, that it 
 governs not by outward force ; and that for two rea- 
 sons. First, Because it deals only with the inward man 
 and his actions, which are all spiritual, and to outward 
 force not liable. 2dly, To shew us the divine excel- 
 lence of his spiritual kingdom, able, without worldly 
 force, to subdue all the powers and kingdoms of this 
 world, which are upheld by outward force only. That 
 the inward man is nothing else but the inward part of 
 man, bis understanding and bis will ; and that his ac- 
 tions thence proceeding, yet not simply thence, but 
 from the work of divine grace upon them, are the whole 
 matter of religion under the gospel, will appear plainly 
 by considering what that religion is ; whence we shall 
 perceive yet more plainly that it cannot be forced. 
 What evangelic religion is, is told in two words. Faith 
 and Charity, or Belief and Practice. That both these 
 flow, either, the one from the understanding, the other 
 from the will, or both jointly from both ; once indeed 
 naturally free, but now only as they are regenerate 
 and wrought on by divine grace, is in part evident to 
 common sense and principles unquestioned, the rest by 
 Scripture : concerning our belief. Matt. xvi. 17, " Flesh 
 and blood hath not revealed it unto thee, but my Fa- 
 ther which is in heaven." Concerning our practice, as 
 it is religious, and not merely civil. Gal. v. 22, 23, and 
 other places, declare it to be the fruit of the spirit 
 only. Nay, our whole practical duty in religion is con- 
 tained in charity, or the love of God and our neigh- 
 bour, no way to be forced, yet the fulfilling of the 
 whole law ; that is to say, our whole practice in reli- 
 gion. If then both our belief and practice, which 
 comprehend our whole religion, flow from faculties of 
 the inward man, free and unconstrainable of themselves 
 by nature, and our practice not only from faculties 
 endued with freedom, but from love and charity be- 
 sides, incapable of force, and all these things by trans- 
 gression lost, but renewed and regenerated in us by 
 the power and gift of God alone ; how can such re- 
 ligion as this admit of force from man, or force be any 
 way applied to such religion, especially under the free 
 offer of grace in the gospel, but it must forthwith frus- 
 trate and make of no efl^ect, both the religion and the 
 gospel .'' And that to compel outward profession, which 
 they will say perhaps ought to be compelled, though 
 inward religion cannot, is to compel hypocrisy, not to 
 advance religion, shall yet, though of itself clear 
 enough, be ere the conclusion further manifest. The 
 other reason why Christ rejects outward force in the 
 government of his church, is, as I said before, to shew 
 us the divine excellence of his spiritual kingdom, able 
 without worldly force to subdue all the powers and 
 kingdoms of this world, which are upheld by outward 
 force only : by which to uphold religion otherwise 
 than to defend the religious from outward violence, is 
 no service to Christ or his kingdom, but rather a dis- 
 paragement, and degrades it from a divine and spiritual 
 
418 
 
 A TREATISE OJ ClVil, POWER 
 
 kini^om, to a kingdom of this world : whicli he denies 
 it to he, because it needs not force to confirm it : John 
 xviii. 36. " If mj kingdom were of this world, then 
 would my servants fight, that I should not be delivered 
 to the Jews." This proves the kingdom of Christ not 
 governed by outw ard force, as being none of this world, 
 whose kingdoms are maintained all by force only : and 
 yet disproves not that a christian commonwealth may 
 defend itself against outward force, in the cause of 
 religion as well as in any other: though Christ him- 
 self coming purposely to die for us, would not be so 
 defended. 1 Cor. i. 27, " God hath chosen the weak 
 things of the world, to confound the things which arc 
 mighty." Then surely he bath not chosen the force of 
 this world to subdue conscience, and conscientious men, 
 who in this world are counted weakest; but rather 
 conscience, as being weakest, to subdue and regulate 
 force, his adversary, not his aid or instrument in go- 
 Terniug the church : 2 Cor. x. 3, 4, 5, 6, " For though 
 we walk in the flesh, we do not war after the flesh : for 
 the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but mighty 
 through God to the pulling down of strong holds, cast- 
 ing down imaginations, and every high thing that ex- 
 alts itself against the knowledge of God, and bringing 
 into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ : 
 and having in a readiness to avenge all disobedience." 
 It is evident by the first and second verses of this 
 chapter, and the apostle here speaks of that spiritual 
 power by which Christ governs his church, how all- 
 sufficient it is, how powerful to reach the conscience, 
 and the inward man with whom it chiefly deals, and 
 whom no power else can deal with. In comparison of 
 which, as it is here thus magnificently described, how 
 uneflectual and weak is outward force with all her 
 boisterous tools, to the shame of those Christians, and 
 especially those churchmen, who to the exercising of 
 church-discipline, never cease calling on the civil ma- 
 gistrate to interpose his fleshly force .•* An argument 
 that all true ministerial and spiritual power is dead 
 within them ; who think the gospel, which both began 
 and spread over the whole world for above three hun- 
 dred years, under heathen and persecuting emperors, 
 cannot stand or continue, supported by the same divine 
 presence and protection, to the world's end, much 
 easier under the defensive favour only of a christian 
 magistrate, unless it be enacted and settled, as they 
 call it, by the state, a statute or state religion ; and 
 understand not that the church itself cannot, much less 
 the state, settle or impose one title of religion upon our 
 obedience implicit, but can only recommend or pro- 
 pound it to oiir free and conscientious examination : 
 unless they mean to set the state higher than the 
 church in religion, and with a gross contradiction give 
 to the state in their settling petition that command of 
 oar implicit belief, which they deny in their settled 
 confession both to the state and to the church. Let 
 them cease then to importune and interrupt the magis- 
 trate from attending to his own charge in civil and 
 moral things, the settling of things just, things honest, 
 the defence of things religious, settled by the churches 
 within themselves; and the repressing of their contra- 
 
 ries, determinable by the common light of nature ; 
 which is not to constrain or to repress religion probable 
 by Scripture, but the violaters and persetuters thereof: 
 of all which things he hath enough and more than 
 enough to do, left yet undone; for which the land 
 groans, and justice goes to wrack the while. Let hiiu 
 also forbear force where he hath no right to judge, for 
 the conscience is not his province, lest a worst wo ar- 
 rive him, for worse oflcnding than was denounced by 
 our Saviour, Matt, xxiii. 23, against the Pharisees: 
 Ye have forced the conscience, which was not to be 
 forced ; but j udgriient and mercy ye have not executed ; 
 this ye should have done, and tlie other let alone. And 
 since it is the counsel and set purpose of God in the 
 gospel, by spiritual means which are counted weak, to 
 overcome all power which resists him ; let them not 
 go about to do that by worldly strength, which he hath 
 decreed to do by those means which the world counts 
 weakness, lest they be again obnoxious to that saying, 
 which in another place is also written of the Pharisees, 
 Luke vii. 30, " That they frustrated the counsel of 
 God." The main plea is, and urged with much vehe- 
 mence to their imitation, that the kings of Judah, as 
 I touched before, and especially Josiah, both judged 
 and used force in religion : 2 Chron. xxxiv. 33, " He 
 made all that were present in Israel to serve the Lord 
 their God :" an argument, if it be well weighed, worse 
 than that used by the false prophet Shemaia to the high 
 priest, that in imitation of Jehoiada, he ought to put 
 Jeremiah in the stocks, Jer. xxix. 24, 26, &c. for which 
 he received his due denouncement from God. But to 
 this besides I return a threefold answer : First, That 
 the state of religion under the gospel is far diflTering 
 from what it was under the law ; then was the state of 
 rigour, childhood, bondage, and works, to all which 
 force was not unbefitting ; now is the state of grace, 
 manhood, freedom, and faith, to all which belongs will- 
 ingness and reason, not force : the law was then writ- 
 ten on tables of stone, and to be performed according 
 to the letter, willingly or unwillingly ; the gospel, 
 our new covenant, upon the heart of every believer, to 
 be interpreted only by the sense of charity and inward 
 persuasion : the law had no distinct government or 
 govemorsof church and commonwealth, but the priests 
 and Levites judged in all causes, not ecclesiastical 
 only, but civil, Deut. xvii. 8, 5cc. which under the 
 gospel is forbidden to all church-ministers, as a thing 
 which Christ their master in his ministry disclaimed, 
 Luke xii. 14, as a thing beneath them, I Cor. vi. 4, 
 and by many other statutes, as to them who have a 
 peculiar and far diflTering government of their own. 
 If not, why ditterent the governors? Why not church- 
 ministers in state-aflairs, as well as state-ministers in 
 church-affairs .•' If church and state shall be made one 
 flesh again as under the law, let it be withal considered, 
 that God, who then joined them, hath now severed 
 them ; that which, he so ordaining, was then a lawful 
 conjunction, to such on either side as join again what 
 he hath severed would be nothing now but their own 
 presumptuous fornication. Secondly, the kings of 
 Judah, and those magistrates under the law, might hate 
 
 J 
 
IN ECCLESIASTICAL CAUSES. 
 
 419 
 
 recourse, as I said before, to diviue inspiration ; vvliich 
 our mag'istrates under the gospel have not, more than 
 to the same spirit, which those whom they force have 
 ofttimcs in greater measure than themselves : and so, 
 instead of forcing the Christian, they force the Holy 
 Ghost ; and, against that wise forewarning of Gama- 
 liel, fight against God. Thirdly, those kings and 
 magistrates used force in such things only as were un- 
 doubtedly known and forbidden in the law of Moses, 
 idolatry and direct apostacy from that national and strict 
 enjoined worsliip of God ; whereof the corporal punish- 
 ment was by himself expressly set down : but magis- 
 trates under the gospel, our free, elective, and rational 
 woi-ship, are most commonly busiest to force those 
 things which in the gospel are either left free, nay, 
 sometimes abolished when by thcni compelled, or else 
 controverted equally by writers on ))oth sides, and 
 sometimes with odds on that side which is against 
 them. By which means they either punish that w Inch 
 they ought to favour and protect, or that with corporal 
 punishment, and of their own inventing, which not 
 they, but the church, had received command to chastise 
 with a spiritual rod only. Yet some are so eager in 
 their zeal of forcing, that they refuse not to descend 
 at length to the utmost shift of that parabolical proof, 
 Luke xiv. 16, &c. " Compel them to come in :" there- 
 fore magistrates may compel in religion. As if a para- 
 ble were to be strained through every word or phrase, 
 and not expounded by the general scope thereof; which 
 is no other here than the earnest expression of God's 
 displeasure on those recusant Jews, and his purpose to 
 prefer the Gentiles on any terms before them ; expressed 
 here by the word compel. But how compels he ? 
 Doubtless no other way than he draws, without which 
 no man can come to him, John vi. 44, and that is by 
 the inward persuasive motions of his Spirit, and by his 
 ministers ; not by the outward compulsions of a magis- 
 trate or his officers. The true people of Christ, as is 
 foretold, Psalm ex. 3, " are a willing people in the day 
 of his power;" then much more now when he rules all 
 tilings by outward weakness, that both his inward 
 power and their sincerity may the more appear. " God 
 loveth a cheerful giver :" then certainly is not pleased 
 with an uncheerful vvorshijipcr : as the very words de- 
 clare of his evangelical invitations, Isa. Iv. 1, " Ho, 
 every one that thirstetb, come." John vii. 37, " If any 
 man thirstetb." Rev. iii. 18, " I counsel thee." And 
 xxii. 17, " Whosoever will, let him take the water of 
 life freely." And in that grand commission of preach- 
 ing, to invite all nations, Mark xvi. 16, as the reward 
 of them who come, so the penalty of them who come 
 not, is only spiritual. But they bring now some rea- 
 son with their force, which must not pass unanswered, 
 that the church of Thyatira was blamed. Rev. ii. 20, 
 for suffering the false " prophetess to teach and to se- 
 duce." I answer. That seducement is to be hindered 
 by fit and proper means ordained in church-discipline, 
 by instant and powerful demonstration to the contrary ; 
 by opposing truth to errour, no unequal match ; truth 
 the strong, to errour the weak, though sly and shifting. 
 Force is no honest confutation, but uneffcctual, and for 
 2 E 
 
 the most part unsuccessful, ofttimes fatal to them who 
 use it : sound doctrine, diligently and duly taught, is 
 of herself both sufficient, and of herself (if some secret 
 judgment of God hinder not) always prevalent against 
 seducers. This the Thyatirians had neglected, suffer- 
 ing, against church-discipline, that woman to teach 
 and seduce among them : civil force they had not 
 then in their power, being the christian part only of 
 that city, and then especially under one of those ten 
 great persecutions, whereof this the second was raised 
 by Domitian : force therefore in these mattoi-s could not 
 be required of them who were under force themselves. 
 I have shewn, that the civil power hath neither right, 
 nor can do right, by forcing religious things : I will 
 now shew the wrong it doth, by violating the funda- 
 mental privilege of the gospel, the new birthright of 
 every true believer, christian liberty : 2 Cor. iii. 17, 
 " Where the S])irit of the Lord is, there is liberty." 
 Gal. iv. 26. " Jerusalem which is above is free ; 
 which is the mother of us all." And ver. 31, " We are 
 not children of the bondwoman, but of the free." It 
 will be sufficient in this place to say no more of christiaa 
 liberty, than that it sets us free not only from the bond- 
 age of those ceremonies, but also from the forcible im- 
 position of those circumstances, place and time, in the 
 worship of God: which though by him commanded in 
 the old law, yet in respect of that verity and freedom 
 which is evangelical, St. Paul comprehends both kinds 
 alike, that is to say, both ceremony and circumstance, 
 under one and the same contemptuous name of" weak 
 and beggarly rudiments," Gal. iv. 3, 9, 10; Col. ii. 8, 
 with 16; conformable to what our Saviour himself 
 taught, John iv. 21,23, *' Neither in this mountain, nor 
 yet at Jerusalem. In spirit and in truth ; for the 
 Father seeketh such to worship him :" that is to sa}', not 
 only sincere of heart, for such he sought ever ; but also, 
 as the words here chiefly import, not compelled to 
 place, and by the same reason, not to any set time ; as 
 his apostle by the same spirit hath taught us, Rom. xiv. 
 5, &c. " One man esteemeth one day above another ; 
 another,"&c.;Gal.iv. 10," Ye observe days and months," 
 &c. ; Col. ii. 16. These and other such places in Scrip- 
 ture the best and learnedest reformed writers have 
 thought evident enough to instruct us in our freedom, 
 not only from ceremonies, but from those circumstances 
 also, though imposed with a confident persuasion of 
 morality in them, which they hold impossible to be in 
 place or time. By what warrant then our opinions 
 and practices herein are of late turned quite against 
 all other protestants, and that which is to them ortho- 
 doxal, to us becomes scandalous and punishable by 
 statute, I wish were once again considered ; if we mean 
 not to proclaim a schism in this point from the best and 
 most reformed churches abroad. They who would seem 
 more knowing, confess that these things are indiffer- 
 ent, but for that very cause by the magistrate may be 
 commanded. As if God of his special grace in the gos- 
 pel had to this end freed us from his own command- 
 ments in these things, that our freedom should subject 
 us to a more grievousj'oke, the commandments of men. 
 As well may the magistrate call that common or un- 
 
420 
 
 A TREATJSI:: 01 CIVIL TOWER 
 
 clean which Go«l liath cleansed, forbidden to St. Peter, 
 Acts X. 15 ; as tvell may he loosen that which God hath 
 straitened, or straiten tliat which God hath loosened, 
 as he may enjoin those things in religion which God 
 hatli left free, and lay on that yoke which God hatli 
 taken off. For he hath not only given us this gift as 
 a special privilege and excellence of the free gospel 
 above the servile law, but strictly also hath commanded 
 us to keep it and enjoy it. Gal. v. 13, " You are called 
 to liberty." 1 Cor. vii. 23, " Be not made the servants 
 of men." Gal. v. 14, " Stand fast therefore in the liberty 
 wherewitli Christ hath made us free ; and be not en- 
 tangled again with the yoke of bondage." Neither is 
 this a mere command, but for the most part in these 
 forecited places, accompanied with the very weightiest 
 and inmost reasons of christian religion : Rom. xiv. 9, 
 10, " For to this end Christ both died, and rose, and 
 revived, that he might be Lord both of the dead and 
 living. But whj' dost thou judge thy brother?" &c. 
 How presumes! thou to be his lord, to be whose only 
 Lord, at least in these things, Christ both died, and 
 rose, and lived again ? " We shall all stand before the 
 judgment-seat of Christ." Why then dost thou not 
 only judge, but persecute in these things for which we 
 are to be accountable to the tribunal of Christ onl^', 
 our Lord and lawgiver ? 1 Cor. vii. 23, " Ye are bought 
 with a price ; be not made the servants of men." 
 Some trivial price belike, and for some frivolous pre- 
 tences paid in their opinion, if bought and by him re- 
 deemed, who is God, from what was once the service 
 of God, we shall be enthralled again, and forced by 
 men to what now is but the service of men. Gal. iv. 
 31, with V. 1, " We are not children of the bondwoman, 
 &c. stand fast therefore," &c. Col. ii. 8, " Beware lest 
 any man spoil you, &c. after the rudiments of the 
 world, and not after Christ." Solid reasons whereof 
 are continued through the whole chapter. Ver. 10, 
 •' Ye are complete in him, which is the head of all 
 principality and power:" not completed therefore or 
 made the more religious by those ordinances of civil 
 power, from which Christ their head hath discharged 
 us; " blotting out the hand-writing of ordinances that 
 was against us, which was contrary to us ; and took it 
 out of the way, nailing it to his cross," ver. 14. Blotting 
 out ordinances written by God himself, much more 
 those so boldly written over again by men : ordinances 
 which were against us, that is, against our frailty, much 
 more those which are against our conscience. " Let no 
 man therefore judge you in respect of," &c. ver. 16, Gal. 
 iv. 3, &c. " Even so we, when we were children, were 
 in bondage under the rudiments of the world : But 
 when the fulness of time was come, God sent forth his 
 Son, &c. to redeem them that were uqder the law, that 
 wc might receive the adoption of sons. Sec. Where- 
 fore thou art no more a servant, but a son, &c. But 
 now, &c. how turn ye again to the weak and beggarly 
 rudiments, whercunto ye desire again to be in bond- 
 age? Ye observe days," &c. Hence it plainly ap- 
 pears, that if we be not free, we are not sons, but still 
 servants unadopted ; and if we turn again to those weak 
 and bcggariy rudiments, we are not free ; yea, though 
 
 willingly, and with a misguided conscience, we desire 
 to be in bondage to them ; how much more then if 
 unwillingly and against our conscience ! Ill was our 
 condition changed from legal to evangelical, and small 
 advantage gotten by the gospel, if for the spirit of 
 adoption to freedom promised us, we receive again the 
 spirit of bondage to fear; if our fear, which was then 
 servile towards God only, must be now servile in re- 
 ligion towards men : strange also and preposterous 
 fear, if when and wherein it hath attained by the re- 
 demption of our Saviour to be filial only towards God, 
 it must be now servile towards the magistrate : who, 
 by subjecting us to his punishment in these things, 
 brings back into religion that law of terrour and satis- 
 faction belonging now only to civil crimes ; and 
 thereby in effect abolishes the gospel, by establisiiing 
 again the law to a far worse yoke of servitude upon us 
 than before. It will therefore not misbecome the 
 meanest Christian to put in mind christian magistrates, 
 and so much the more freely by how much the more 
 they desire to be thought christian, (for they will be 
 thereby, as they ought to be in these things, the more 
 our brethren and the less our lords,) that they meddle 
 not rashly with christian liberty, the birthright and 
 outward testimony of our adoption ; lest while they 
 little think it, nay, think they do God service, they 
 themselves, like the sous of that bondwoman, be found 
 persecuting them who are freeborn of the Spirit, and 
 by a sacrilege of not the least aggravation, bereaving 
 them of that sacred liberty, which our Saviour with 
 his own blood purchased for them. 
 
 A fourth reason, why the magistrate ought not to 
 use force in religion, I bring from the consideration of 
 all those ends, which he can likely pretend to the in- 
 terposing of his force therein : and those hardly can 
 be other than first the glory of God ; next, either the 
 spiritual good of them whom he forces, or the temporal 
 punishment of their scandal to others. As for the pro- 
 moting of God's glory, none, I think, will say that his 
 glory ought to be promoted in religious things by un- 
 warrantable means, much less by means contrary to 
 what he hath commanded. That outward force is 
 such, and that God's glory in the whole administration 
 of the gospel according to his own will and counsel 
 ought to be fulfilled by weakness, at least so refuted, 
 not by force ; or if by force, inward and spiritual, not 
 outward and eoj-poreal, is already proved at large. 
 That outward force cannot tend to the good of him 
 who is forced in religion, is unquestionable. For i;i 
 religion whatever we do under the gospel, we ought to 
 be thereof persuaded without scruple ; and are justified 
 by the faith we have, not by the work we do : Rom. 
 xiv. 5, " Let every man be fully persuaded in his own 
 mind." The other reason which follows necessarily is 
 obvious, Gal. ii. 16, and in many other places of St. 
 Paul, as the groundwork and foundation of the whole 
 gospel, that we are "j^Jstified by the faith of Christ, 
 and not by the works of the law." If not by the works 
 of God's law, how then by the injunctions of man's 
 law ? Surely force cannot work persuasion, which is 
 faith ; cannot therefore justify nor pacify the con- 
 
IN ECCLESIASTICAL CAUSES. 
 
 421 
 
 science; and that which justifies not in the gospel, 
 condemns ; is not only not good, but sinful to do : 
 Rom. xiv. 23, " Whatsoever is not of faith, is sin," It 
 concerns the magistrate then to take heed how he forces 
 in religion conscientious men : lest by compelling them 
 to do that whereof they cannot be persuaded, that 
 wherein they cannot find themselves justified, but by 
 their own consciences condemned, instead of aiming at 
 their spiritual good, he force them to do evil ; and 
 while he thinks himself Asa, Josiah, Nehemiah, he be 
 found Jeroboam, who caused Israel to sin ; and thereby 
 draw upon his own head all those sins and shipwrecks 
 of implicit faith and conformity, which he hath forced, 
 and all the wounds given to those little ones, whom to 
 offend he will find worse one day than that violent 
 drowning mentioned Matt, xviii. 6. Lastly, as a pre- 
 face to force, it is the usual pretence, That although 
 tender consciences shall be tolerated, yet scandals 
 thereby given shall not be unpunished, prophane and 
 licentious men shall not be encouraged to neglect the 
 performance of religious and holy duties by colour of 
 any law giving liberty to tender consciences. By 
 which contrivance the way lies ready open to them 
 hereafter, who may be so minded, to take away by little 
 and little that liberty which Christ and his gospel, not 
 any magistrate, hath right to give: though this kind 
 of his giving be but to give with one hand, and take 
 away with the other, which is a deluding, not a giv- 
 ing. As for scandals, if any man be offended at the 
 conscientious liberty of another, it is a taken scandal, 
 not a given. To heal one conscience, we must not 
 wound another: and men must be exhorted to beware 
 of scandals in christian liberty, not forced by the ma- 
 gistrate ; lest while he goes about to take away the 
 scandal, which is uncertain whether given or taken, he 
 take away our liberty, which is the certain and the sa- 
 cred gift of God, neither to be touched by him, nor to 
 be j)arted with by us. None more cautious of giving 
 scandal than St. Paul. Yet while he made himself 
 " servant to all," that he " might gain the more," he 
 made himself so of his own accord, was not made so by 
 outward force, testifying at the same time that he " was 
 free from all men," 1 Cor. ix. 19 ; and thereafter ex- 
 horts us also. Gal. r. 13, "Ye were called to liberty, 
 &c. but by love serve one another : " then not by force. 
 As for that fear, lest prophane and licentious men 
 should be encouraged to omit the performance of re- 
 ligious and holy duties, how can that care belong to 
 the civil magistrate, especially to his force ? For if 
 prophane and licentious persons must not neglect the 
 performance of religious and holy duties, it implies, 
 that such duties they can perform, which ijo protestant 
 will affirm. They who mean the outward perform- 
 ance, may so explain it ; and it will then appear yet 
 more plainly, that such performance of religious and 
 holy duties, especially by prophane and licentious per- 
 sons, is a dishonouring rather than a worshipi'ing of 
 God ; and not only by him not required, but detested : 
 Prov. xxi. 27, "The sacrifice of the wicked is an abomi- 
 nation; how much more when he bringeth it with a 
 wicked mind ?" To cornncl therefore the prophane to 
 
 things holy in his prophaneness, is all one under the 
 gospel, as to have compelled the unclean to sacrifice in 
 his uncleanness under the law. And I add withal, 
 that to compel the licentious in his licentiousness, and 
 the conscientious against his conscience, comes all to 
 one : tends not to the honour of God, but to the mul- 
 tiplying and the aggravating of sin to them both. We 
 read not that Christ ever exercised force but once ; 
 and that was to drive prophane ones out of his tem- 
 ple, not to force them in : and if their being there was 
 an offence, we find by many other scriptures that their 
 praying there was an abomination : and yet to the 
 Jewish law, that nation, as a servant, was obliged ; but 
 to the gospel each person is left voluntary, called only, 
 as a son, by the preaching of the word ; not to be driven 
 in by edicts and force of arms. For if by the apostle, 
 Rom. xii. 1, we are " beseeched as brethren by the 
 mercies of God to present our bodies a living sacrifice, 
 holy, acceptable to God, which is our reasonable ser- 
 vice " or worship, then is no man to be forced by the 
 compulsive laws of men to present his body a dead 
 sacrifice ; and so under the gospel most unholy and 
 unacceptable, because it is his unreasonable service, 
 that is to say, not only unwilling but unconscionable. 
 But if prophane and licentious persons may not omit 
 the performance of holy duties, why may they not par- 
 take of holy things ? Why are they prohibited the 
 Lord's supper, since both the one and the other action 
 may be outward; and outward performance of duty 
 may attain at least an outward participation of bene- 
 fit? The church denying them that communion of 
 grace and thanksgiving, as it justly doth, why doth 
 the magistrate compel them to the union of performing 
 that which they neither truly can, being themselves 
 unholy, and to do seemingly is both hateful to God, 
 and perhaps no less dangerous to perform holy duties 
 irreligiously, than to receive holy signs or sacraments 
 unworthily ? All prophane and licentious men, so 
 known, can be considered but cither so without the 
 church as never yet within it, or dej)arted thence of 
 their own accord, or excommunicate : if never yet 
 within the church, whom the apostle, and so con- 
 sequently the church, have nought to do to judge, as 
 he professes, 1 Cor. v. 12, then by what authority doth 
 the magistrate judge; or, which is worse, compel in 
 relation to the church .'' If departed of his own accord, 
 like that lost sheep, Luke xv. 4, &c. the true church 
 either with her own or any borrowed force worries him 
 not in again, but rather in all charitable manner sends 
 after him; and if she find him, lays him gently on her 
 shoulders; bears him, yea bears his burdens, his errours, 
 his infirmities any way tolerable, " so fulfilling the law 
 of Christ," Gal. vi. 2. If excommunicate, whom the 
 church hath bid go out, in whose name doth the magis- 
 trate compel to go in ? The church indeed hinders 
 none from hearing in her public congregation, for the 
 doors are open to all : nor excommunicates to destruc- 
 tion ; but, as much as in her lies, to a final saving. Her 
 meaning therefore must needs be, that as her drivin"^ 
 out brings on no outward penalt}', so no outward force 
 or penalty of an improper and only a destructive power 
 
422 
 
 A TREATISE OF CIVIL POWER IN ECCLESIASTICAL CAUSES. 
 
 should drive in ag'ain her infectious sheep ; therefore 
 sent out because infectious, and not driven in but with 
 the danjfcr not only of the whole and sound, but also 
 of his own utter perishing'. Since force neither in- 
 structs in religion, nor begets repentance or amendment 
 of life, but on the contrary, hardness of heart, formality, 
 hypocrisy, and, as I said before, every way increase of 
 sin ; more and more alienates the mind from a violent 
 religion, expelling out and compelling in, and reduces 
 it to a condition like that which the Britons complain 
 of in our story, driven to and fro between the Picts and 
 the sea. If after excommunion he be found intractable, 
 incurable, and will not hear the church, he becomes as 
 one never yet within her pale, " a heathen or a pub- 
 lican," Matt, xviii. 17, not further to be judged, no not 
 by the magistrate, unless for civil causes; but left to 
 the final sentence of that Judge, whose coming shall 
 be in flames of fire ; that Maranatha, I Cor. xvi. 22, 
 than which to him so left nothing can be more dread- 
 ful, and ofttimcs to him particularly nothing more 
 speedy, that is to say, The Lord cometh : in the mean 
 while delivered up to Satan, 1 Cor. v. 5, 1 Tim. i. 20, 
 that is, from the fold of Christ and kingdom of grace 
 to the world again, which is the kingdom of Satan ; 
 and as he was received " from darkness to light, and 
 from the power of Satan to God," Acts xxvi. 18, so 
 now delivered up again from light to darkness, and 
 from God to the power of Satan ; yet so as is in both 
 places manifested, to the intent of saving him, brought 
 sooner to contrition by spiritual than by any corporal 
 severity. But grant it belonging any way to the 
 magistrate, that prophane and licentious persons omit 
 not the performance of holy duties, which in them were 
 odious to God even under the law, much more now 
 under the gospel ; yet ought his care both as a magis- 
 trate and a Christian, to be much more that conscience 
 be not inwardly violated, than that licence in these 
 things he made outwardly conformable : since his part 
 isundoubtedly as a Christian, which puts him upon this 
 office much more than as a magistrate, in all respects 
 to have more care of the conscientious than of the pro- 
 phane; and not for their sakes to take away (while 
 they pretend to give) or to diminish the rightful liberty 
 of religious consciences. 
 
 On these four scriptural reasons, as on a firm square, 
 this truth, the right of christian and evangelic liberty, 
 will stand immovable against all those pretended con- 
 sequences of licence aixd confusion, which for the most 
 part men most licentious and confused themselves, or 
 such as whose severity would be wiser than divine 
 wisdom, are ever aptest to object against the ways of 
 God : as if God without them, when he gave us this 
 liberty, knew not of the worst which these men in their 
 arrogance pretend will follow: yet knowing all their 
 worst, he gave us this liberty as by him judged best. 
 As to those magistrates who think it their work to set- 
 tle religion, and those ministers or others, who so oft 
 call upon them to do so, I trust, that having well con- 
 sidered what hath been here argued, neither they will 
 continue in that intention, nor these in that expectation 
 from them ; w hen they shall find that the settlement 
 
 of religion belongs only to eacli particular church by 
 persuasive and spiritual means within itsrlf, and that 
 the defence only of the church belongs to the magis- 
 trate. Had he once learnt not further to concern him- 
 self with church-affairs, half his labour might be spared, 
 and the commonwealth better tended. To which end, 
 that which I premised in the beginning, and in due 
 place treated of more at large, I desire now concluding, 
 that they would consider seriously what religion is : 
 and they will find it to be, in sum, both our belief and 
 our practice depending upon God only. That there 
 can be no place then left for the magistrate or his force 
 in the settlement of religion, by appointing either what 
 we shall believe in divine things, or practise in re- 
 ligious, (neither of which things are in the power of 
 man either to perform himself, or to enable others,) I 
 persuade me in the christian ingenuity of all religious 
 men, the more they examine seriously, the more they 
 will find clearly to be true : and find how false and de- 
 viseable that common saying is, which is so much re- 
 lied upon, that the christian magistrate is " Custos 
 utriusque Tabulce," Keeper of both Tables, unless is 
 meant by keeper the defender only : neither can that 
 maxim be maintained by any proof or argument, which 
 hath not in this discourse first or last been refuted. 
 For the two tables, or ten commandments, teach our 
 duty to God and our neighbour from the love of both ; 
 give magistrates no authority to force either : they seek 
 that from the judicial law, though on false grounds, 
 especially in the first table, as I have shewn ; and 
 both in first and second execute that authority for the 
 most part, not according to God's judicial laws, but 
 their own. As for civil crimes, and of the outward 
 man, which all are not, no, not of those against the 
 second table, as that of coveting; in them what power 
 they have, they had from the beginning, long before 
 Moses or the two tables were in being. And whether 
 they be not now as little in being to be kept by any 
 Christian as they are two legal tables, remains yet as 
 undecided, as it is sure they never were yet delivered 
 to the keeping of any christian magistrate. But of 
 these things perhaps more some other time ; w hat may 
 serve the present hath been above discoursed suffi- 
 ciently out of the Scriptures: and to those produced, 
 might be added testimonies, examples, experiences, of 
 all succeeding ages to these times, asserting this doc- 
 trine : but having herein the Scripture so copious and 
 so plain, we have all that can be properly called true 
 strength and nerve ; the rest would be but pomp and 
 encumbrance. Pomp and ostentation of .eading is ad- 
 mired among the vulgar: but doubtless in matters of 
 religion he is learnedest who is plainest. The brevity 
 I use, not exceeding a small manual, will not there- 
 fore, I suppose, be thought the less considerable, un- 
 less with them perhaps who think that great books 
 only can determine great matters. I rather choose 
 the common rule, not to make much ado, where less may 
 serve. Which in controversies, and those especially of 
 religion, would make them less tedious, and by conse- 
 quence read oftener by many more, and with more 
 benefit. 
 
CONSIDERATIONS 
 
 TOUCHINO TBI LIKKLIEST MI&MS 
 
 TO REMOVE HIRELINGS OUT OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 WRIRSIN IS ALSO DISCOCItSKD 
 
 OF TITHES, CHURCH-FEES, AND CHURCH-REVENUES; AND WHETHER ANY 
 MAINTENANCE OF MINISTERS CAN BE SETTLED BY LAW. 
 
 [riRST PCBLISRID 1659.1 
 
 TO THE PARLIAMENT OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF ENGLAND, WITH THE DOMINIONS THEREOF. 
 
 Owing to your protection, Supreme Senate ! this liberty 
 of writing', which I have used these eighteen years on 
 all occasions to assert the best rights and freedoms both 
 of church and state, and so far approved, as to have 
 been trusted with the reprcsentment and defence of 
 your actions to all Christendom against an adversary 
 of no mean repute ; to whom should I address what I 
 still publish on the same argument, but to you, whose 
 magnanimous councils first opened and unbound the 
 age from a double bondage under prelatical and regal 
 tyranny ; above our own hopes heartening us to look 
 tip at last like men and Christians from the slavish de- 
 jection, wherein from father to son we were bred up 
 and taught ; and thereby deserving of these nations, if 
 iliey be not barbarously ingrateful, to be acknowledged, 
 next under God, the authors and best patrons of reli- 
 gious and civil liberty, that ever these islands brought 
 forth .'' The care and tuition of whose peace and safety, 
 after a short but scandalous night of inten-uption, is 
 now again, by a new dawning of God's miraculous 
 providence among us, revolved upon your shoulders. 
 And to whom more appertain these considerations, 
 which I propound, than to yourselves, and the debate 
 before you, though I trust of no difficulty, yet at pre- 
 sent of great expectation, not whether ye will gratify, 
 were it no more than so, but whether ye will hearken 
 to the just petition of many thousands best affected 
 both to religion and to this your return, or whether ye 
 will satisfy, which you never can, the covetous pre- 
 tences and demands of insatiable hirelings, whose dis- 
 affection ye well know both to yourselves and your 
 resolutions ? That I, though among many others in 
 this common concernment, interpose to your delibera- 
 tions what my thoughts "also are ; your own judgment 
 and the success thereof hath given me the confidence : 
 which requests but this, that if I have prosperously, 
 God so favouring me, defended the public cause of this 
 commonwealth to foreigners, ye would not think the 
 
 reason and ability, whereon ye trusted once (and repent 
 not) your whole reputation to the world, either grown 
 less by more maturity and longer study, or less avail- 
 able in English than in another tongue : but that if it 
 sufficed some years past to convince and satisfy the 
 unengaged of other nations in the justice of your do- 
 ings, though then held paradoxal, it may as well suffice 
 now against weaker opposition in matters, except here 
 in England with a spirituality of men devoted to their 
 temporal gain, of no controversy else among protest- 
 ants. Neither do I doubt, seeing daily the acceptance 
 which they find who in their petitions venture to bring 
 advice also, and new models of a commonwealth, but 
 that you will interpret it much more the duty of a 
 Christian to offer what his conscience persuades him 
 may be of moment to the freedom and better constitut- 
 ing of the church : since it is a deed of highest charity 
 to help undeceive the peo])le, and a work worthiest 
 your authority, in all things else authors, assertors, and 
 now recoverers of our liberty, to deliver us, the only 
 people of all protestants left still undelivered, from the 
 oppressions of a simonious decimating clergy, who 
 shame not, against the judgment and practice of all other 
 churches reformed, to maintain, though very weakly, 
 their popish and oft refuted positions ; not in a point 
 of conscience wherein they might be blameless, but in 
 a point of covetousness and unjust claim to other men's 
 goods; a contention foul and odious in any man, but 
 most of all in ministers of the gospel, in whom conten- 
 tion, though for their own right, scarce is allowable. 
 Till which grievances be removed, and religion set 
 free from the monopoly of hirelings, I dare affirm, that 
 no model whatsoever of a commonwealth will prove 
 successful or undisturbed ; and so persuaded, implore 
 divine assistance on your pious counsels and proceed- 
 ings to unanimity in this and all other truth. 
 
 John Milton, 
 
CONSIDERATIONS 
 
 TOlCniNO TBI UKILIBST MKASS 
 
 TO REMOVE HIRELINGS OUT OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 The former treatise, which leads in this, begcan with 
 two things ever found working much mischief to the 
 one side restraining, and hire on the other side corrupt- 
 ing, the teachers thereof. The latter of these is by 
 much the more dangerous : for under force, though no 
 thank to the forcers, true religion ofttimes best thrives 
 and flourishes; but the corruption of teachers, most 
 commonly the effect of hire, is the very bane of truth 
 in them who are so corrupted. Of force not to be used 
 in matters of religion, I have already spoken ; and so 
 stated matters of conscience and religion in faith and 
 divine worship, and so severed them from blasphemy 
 and heresy, the one being such properly as is despiteful, 
 the other such as stands not to the rule of Scripture, and 
 so both of them not matters of reli^non, but rather 
 against it, that to them who will yet use force, this only 
 choice can be left, whether they will force them to be- 
 lieve, to whom it is not given from above, being not 
 forced thereto by any principle of the gospel, which is 
 now the only dispensation of God to all men ; or 
 whether being protestants, they will punish in those 
 things wherein the protestant religion denies them to 
 be judges, either in themselves infallible, or to the con- 
 sciences of other men ; or whether, lastly, they think 
 fit to punish errour, supposing they can be infallible 
 that it is so, being not wilful, but conscientious, and, 
 according to the best light of him who errs, grounded 
 on Scripture : which kind of errour all men religious, 
 or but only reasonable, have thougiit worthier of pardon, 
 and the growth thereof to be prevented by spiritual 
 means and church-discipline, not by civil laws and out- 
 ward force, since it is God only who gives as well to 
 believe aright, as to believe at all ; and by those means, 
 which be ordained sufficiently in his church to the full 
 execution of his divine purpose in the gospel. It re- 
 mains now to speak of hire, the other evil so mischievous 
 in religion : whereof I promised then to speak further, 
 when I should find God disposing me, and opportunity 
 inviting. Opportunity I find now inviting ; and ap- 
 prehend therein the concuiTencc of God disposing; 
 since the maintenance of church-ministers, a thing not 
 properly belonging to the magistrate, and yet with such 
 importunity called for, and expected from him, is at 
 
 present under public debate. Wherein lest any tiling 
 may happen to be determined and established preju- 
 dicial to the right and freedom of the church, or advan- 
 tageous to such as may be found hirelings therein, it 
 will be now most seasonable, and in these matters, 
 wherein every Christian hath his free suffrage, no way 
 misbecoming christian meekness to offer freely, without 
 disparagement to the wisest, such advice as God shall 
 incline him and enable him to propound : since hereto- 
 fore in commonwealths of most fame for government, 
 civil laws were not established till they had been first 
 for certain days published to the view of all men, that 
 whoso pleased might speak freely his opinion thereof, 
 and give in his exceptions, ere the law could pass to a 
 full establishment. And where ought this equity to 
 have more place, than in the liberty which is insepar- 
 able from christian religion ? This, I am not ignorant, 
 will be a work unpleasing to some : but what truth is 
 not hateful to some or other, as this, in likelihood, will 
 be to none but hirelings. And if there be among them 
 who hold it their duty to speak impartial truth, as the 
 work of their ministry, though not performed without 
 •money, let them not envy others who think the same 
 no less their duty by the general office of Christianity, 
 to speak truth, as in all reason may be thought, more 
 impartially and unsuspectedly without money. 
 
 Hire of itself is neither a thing unlawful, nor a 
 word of any evil note, signifying no more than a 
 due recompence or reward; as when our Saviour 
 saith, "the labourer is worthy of his hire." That 
 which makes it so dangerous in the church, and pro- 
 perly makes the hireling, a word always of evil signi- 
 fication, is either the excess thereof, or the undue man- 
 ner of giving and taking it. What harm the excess 
 thereof brought to the church, perhaps was not found 
 by experience till the days of Constantine ; who out of 
 his zeal thinking he could be never too liberally a 
 nursing father of the church, might be not unfitly said 
 to have either overlaid it or choked it in the nursing. 
 Which was foretold, as is recorded in ecclesiastical 
 traditions, by a voice heard from heaven, on the very 
 day that those great donations and church-revenues 
 were given, crying aloud, "This day is ))oisou poured 
 
THE LIKELIEST MEANS TO REMOVE HIRELINGS, &c. 
 
 425 
 
 into the church." Which the event soon after verified, 
 as appears by anotlier no less ancient observation, 
 " That religion brought forth wealth, and the daugliter 
 devoured the mother." But long ere wealth came into 
 the church, so soon as any gain appeared in religion, 
 hirelings were apparent; drawn in long before by the 
 very scent thereof. Judas therefore, the first hire- 
 ling, for want of present hire answerable to his covet- 
 ing, from the small number or the meanness of such 
 as then were the religious, sold the religion itself 
 Avith the founder thereof, bis master. Simon Magus 
 the next, in hope only that preaching and the gifts of 
 the Holy Ghost would prove gainful, offered before- 
 hand a sum of money to obtain them. Not long after, 
 as the apostle foretold, hirelings like wolves came in by 
 herds : Acts xx. 29, " For I know this, that after my 
 departing shall grievous wolves enter in among you, 
 not sparing the flock." Tit. i. 11, " Teaching things 
 w hich they ought not, for filthy lucre's sake." 2 Pet. 
 ii. 3, " And through covetousness shall they with 
 feigned words make merchandise of you." Yet they 
 taught not false doctrine only, but seeming piety : 
 
 1 Tim. vi. 5, " Supposing that gain is godliness." 
 Neither came they in of themselves only, but invited 
 ofttimes by a corrupt audience : 2 Tim. iv. 3, " For 
 the time will come, when they will not endure sound 
 doctrine, but after their own lusts they will heap to 
 themselves teachers, having itching cars : " and they 
 on the other side, as fast heaping to themselves disci- 
 ples. Acts XX. 30, doubtless had as itching palms : 
 
 2 Pet. ii. 15, '* Following the way of Balaam, the son of 
 Bosor, who loved the wages of unrighteousness." Jude 
 11, " They ran greedily after the crrour of Balaam for 
 reward." Thus we see, that not oniy the excess of hire 
 in wealthiest times, but also the undue and vicious 
 taking or giving it, though but small or mean, as in 
 the primitive times, gave to hirelings occasion, though 
 not intended, yet sufficient to creep at first into the 
 church. Which argues also the difficulty, or rather the 
 impossibility, to remove them quite, unless every minis- 
 ter were, as St. Paul, contented to preach gratis ; but 
 few such are to be found. As therefore we cannot 
 justly take away all hire in the church, because we 
 cannot otherwise quite remove all hirelings, so are we 
 not, for the impossibility of removing them all, to use 
 therefore no endeavour that fewest may come in ; but 
 rather, in regard the evil, do what we can, will always 
 be incumbent and unavoidable, to use our utmost dili- 
 gence how it may be least dangerous : which will be 
 likeliest eflTected, if we consider, first, what recompence 
 God hath ordained should be given to ministei*s of the 
 church ; (for that a recompence ought to be given them, 
 and may by them justly be received, our Saviour him- 
 self from the very light of reason and of equity hath 
 declared, Luke x. 7, " The labourer is worthy of his 
 hire;") next, by whom ; and lastly, in what manner. 
 
 What recompence ought to be given to church-minis- 
 ters, God hath answerably ordained according to that 
 difference, which he hath manifestly put between those 
 his two great dispensations, the law and the gospel. 
 Under the law he gave thenj tithes ; under the gospel, 
 
 having left all things in his church to charity ami 
 christian freedom, he hath given them only what is 
 justly given them. That, as well under the gospel, as 
 under the law, say our English divines, and they only 
 of all protestants, is tithes ; and they say true, if any 
 man be so minded to give them of his own the tenth 
 or twentieth ; but that the law therefore of tithes is in 
 force under the gospel, all other protcstant divines, 
 though equally concerned, yet constantly deny. For 
 although hire to the labourer be of moral and perpe- 
 tual right, yet that special kind of hire, the tentli, can 
 be of no right or necessity, but to that special labour 
 for which God ordained it. That special labour was 
 the levitical and ceremonial service of the tabernacle. 
 Numb, xviii. 21,31, which is now abolished : the right 
 therefore of that special hire must needs be withal 
 abolished, as being also ceremonial. That tithes w ere 
 ceremonial, is plain, not being given jto the Levites till 
 they had been first offered a heave-oflTering to the Lord, 
 ver. 24, 28. He then who by that law brings tithes 
 into the gospel, of necessity brings in withal a sacrifice, 
 and an altar; without which tithes by that law were 
 unsanctificd and polluted, ver. 32, and therefore never 
 thought on in the first christian times, till ceremonies, 
 altars, and oblations, by an ancienter corruption, were 
 brought back long before. And yet tlie Jews, ever 
 since their temple was destroyed, though they have 
 rabbies and teachers of their law, yet pay no tithes, as 
 having no Levites to whom, no temple where, to pay 
 them, no altar whereon to hallow them : which argues 
 that the Jews themselves never thought tithes moral, 
 but ceremonial only. That Christians therefore should 
 take them up, when Jews have laid them down, must 
 needs be very absurd and preposterous. Next, it is 
 as clear in the same chapter, that the priests and Levites 
 had not tithes for their labour only in the tabernacle, 
 but in regard they were to have no other part nor in- 
 heritance in the land, ver. 20, 24, and by tliat means 
 for a tenth, lost a twelfth. But our Levites undergo- 
 ing no such law of deprivement, can have no right 
 to any such compensation : nay, if by this law they 
 will have tithes, can have no inheritance of land, but 
 forfeit what they have. Besides this, tithes were of two 
 sorts, those of every year, and those of every third year : 
 of the former, every one that brought his tithes, was to 
 eat his share : Deut. xiv. 2.3, " Thou shalt eat before 
 the Lord thy God, in the place which he sliall choose 
 to place his name there, the tithe of tliy com, of thy 
 wine, and of thine oil," &c. Nay, though he could 
 not bring his tithe in kind, by reason of his distant 
 dwelling from the tabernacle or temple, but was there- 
 by forced to turn it into money, he was to bestow that 
 money on whatsoever pleased him,oxen,sheep, wine, or 
 strong drink ; and to eat and drink thereof there before 
 the Lord, both he and his houshold, ver. 24,25,26. As 
 for tithes of every third year, they were not given only 
 to the Levite, but to the stranger, the fatherless, and 
 the widow, ver. 28, 29, and chap. xxvi. 12, 13. So 
 t!iat ours, if they will have tithes, must admit of these 
 sharers with them. Nay, these tithes were not paid 
 in at all to the Levite, but the Levite himself was to 
 
426 
 
 THE LIKELIEST MEANS TO REMOVE 
 
 come with those his fellow-giiesUi, and eat his share 
 of them only at his house who provided them ; and 
 this not in reg'ard of his ministerial office, but because 
 he had no part or inheritance in the land. I^astly, 
 the priests and Levites, a tribe, were of a far different 
 constitution from this of our ministers under the 
 gospel : in them were orders and deji^rees both by 
 family, difjnity, and office, mainly distinguished ; 
 the high priest, his brethren and his sons, to whom 
 the I^-vitcs themselves paid titiics, and of the best, 
 were eminently superiour, Numb, xviii. 28, 29. No 
 protestant, I suppose, will liken one of our minis- 
 ters to a high priest, but rather to a common Levite. 
 Unless then, to keep their tithes, they mean to bring 
 back again bishops, archbishops, and the whole gang 
 of prelatry, to whom will they themselves pay tithes, as 
 by that law it was a sin to them if they did not ? vcr. 
 32. Certainly this must needs put them to a deep de- 
 mur, while the desire of holding fast their tithes with- 
 out sin may tempt them to bring back again bishops, 
 as the likeness of that hierarchy tiiat should receive 
 tithes from them ; and the desire to pay none, may ad- 
 vise them to keep out of the church all orders above 
 them. But if we have to do at present, as I suppose 
 we have, with true reformed protestauts, not with 
 ]>apists or prelates, it will not be denied that in the gos- 
 pel there be but two ministerial degrees, presbyters and 
 deacons ; which if they contend to have any succession, 
 reference or conformity with those two degrees under 
 the law, priests and Levites, it must needs be such 
 whereby our presbyters or ministers may be answer- 
 able to priests, and our deacons to Levites ; by which 
 rule of proportion it will follow that we must pay our 
 tithes to the deacons only, and they only to the minis- 
 ters. But if it be truer yet, that the priesthood of Aaron 
 typified a better reality, 1 Pet, ii. 5, signifj'ing the 
 christian true and " holy priesthood to offer up spiritual 
 sacrifice;" it follows hence, that we are now justly 
 exempt from paying tithes to any who claim from 
 Aaron, since that priesthood is in us now real, which in 
 him was but a sliadow. Seeing then by all this which 
 has been shewn, that the law of tithes is partly cere- 
 monial, as the work was for which they were given, 
 partly judicial, not of common, but of particular right 
 to the tribe of Levi, nor to them alone, but to the owner 
 also and his houshold, at the time of their offering, 
 and every three years to the stranger, the fatherless, 
 and the widow, their appointed sharers, and that they 
 were a tribe of priests aiiii deacons improperly com- 
 pared to the constitution of our ministry ; and the tithes 
 given by that people to tliose deacons only; it follows 
 that our ministers at this day, being neither priests nor 
 Levites, nor fitly answering to cither of them, can have 
 no just title or pretence to tithes, by any consequence 
 drawn from the law of Moses. But they think they 
 have yet a better plea in the example of Melchisedec, 
 who took tithes of Abraham ere the law was given ; 
 whence they would infer tithes to be of moral right. 
 But they ought to know, or to remetuber, that not ex- 
 am))le8,but express commands, oblige our obedience to 
 Go;! or man : next, that whatsoever was done in re- 
 
 ligion before the law written, is not presently to be 
 counted moral, when as so many things were then 
 done both ceremonial and judaically judicial, that we 
 need not doubt to conclude all times before Christ 
 more or less under the ceremonial law. To what end 
 served else those altars and sacrifices, that distinction 
 of clean and unclean entering into the ark, circum- 
 cision, and the raising up of seed to the elder brother? 
 Gen. xxxviii. 8. If these things be not moral, though 
 before the law, how arc tithes, though in the example 
 of Abraham and Melchisedec ? But this instance is so 
 far from being the just ground of a law, that after all 
 circumstances duly weighed both from Gen. xiv. and 
 Heb. vii. it will not be allowed them so much as an 
 example. Melchisedec, besides his priestly benedic- 
 tion, brought with him bread and wine sufficient to re- 
 fresh Abraham and his whole army ; incited to do so, 
 first, by the secret providence of God, intending him 
 for a type of Christ and his priesthood ; next, by his 
 due thankfulness and honour to Abraham, who had 
 freed his borders of Salem from a potent enemy : Abra- 
 ham on the other side honours him with tlie tenth of 
 all, that is to say, (for he took not sure his whole estate 
 with him to that war,) of the spoils, Heb. vii. 4. Incited 
 he also by the same secret providence, to signify as 
 grandfather of Levi, that the Levitical priesthood was 
 excelled by the priesthood of Christ. For the giving 
 of a tenth declared, it seems, in those countries and 
 times, him the greater who received it. That which 
 next incited him, was partly his gratitude to requite the 
 present, partly his reverence to the person and his bene- 
 diction : to his person, as a king and priest, greater 
 therefore than Abraham, who was a priest also, but not 
 a king. And who unhired will be so hardy as to say, 
 that Abraham at any other time ever paid him tithes, 
 either before or after; or had then, but for this acci- 
 dental meeting and obligemcnt; or that else Melchise- 
 dec had demanded or exacted them, or took them other- 
 wise than as the voluntary gift of Abraham ? But our 
 ministers, though neither priests nor kings more than 
 any other Christian, greater in their own esteem than 
 Abraham and all his seed, for the verbal labour of a 
 seventh day's preachment, not bringing, like Melchise- 
 dec, bread or wine at their own cost, would not take 
 only at the willing hand of liberality or gratitude, but 
 require and exact as due, the tenth, not of spoils, but 
 of our whole estates and labours; nor once, but yearly. 
 We then it seems, by the example of Abraham, muit 
 pay tithes to these Melchisedecs : but what if the per- 
 son of Abraham can neither no way represent us, or 
 will oblige the ministers to pay tithes no less than 
 other men ? Abraham had not only a priest in his loins, 
 but was himself a priest, and gave tithes to Melchise- 
 dec either as grandfather of Levi, or as father of the 
 faithful. If as grandfather (though he understood it 
 not) of Levi, he obliged not us, but Levi only, the in- 
 feriour priest, by that homage (as the apostle to the 
 Hebrews clearly enougli explains) to acknowledge the 
 greater. And they who by Melchisedec claim from 
 Abraham as Ix:vi's grandfather, have none to seek their 
 tithes of but the Levites, where they can find them. 
 
HIRELINGS OUT OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 427 
 
 If Abraham, as father of the faithful, paid tithes to 
 Melchisedec, then certainly the ministers also, if they 
 be of that number, paid in him equally with the rest. 
 Which may induce us to believe, that as both Abraham 
 and Melchisedec, so tithes also in that action typical 
 and ceremonial, si<fnified nothing else but that sub- 
 jection which all the faithful, both ministers and 
 people, owe to Christ, our high priest and king. 
 
 In any literal sense, from this example, they never 
 will be able to extort that the people in those days 
 paid tithes to priests, but this only, that one priest once 
 in his life, of spoils only, and in requital partly of a 
 liberal present, partly of a benediction, gave voluntary 
 tithes, not to a greater priest than himself, as far as 
 Abraham could then understand, but rather to a priest 
 and king joined in one person. They will reply, per- 
 haps, that if one priest paid tithes to another, it must 
 needs be understood that the people did no less to the 
 priest. But I shall easily remove that necessity, by 
 remembering them that in those days was no priest, 
 but the father, or the first-born of each family ; and by 
 consequence no people to pay ijim tithes, but his own 
 children and servants, who had not wherewithal to pay 
 him, but of his own. Yet grant that the people then 
 paid tithes, there will not yet be the like reason 
 to enjoin us ; they being then under ceremonies, a 
 mere laity, we now under Christ, a royal priesthood 
 1 Pet. ii. 9, as we are coheirs, kings and priests with 
 him, a priest for ever after the order or manner of Mel- 
 chisedec. As therefore Abraham paid tithes to Mel- 
 chisedec because Levi was in him, so we ought to pay 
 none because the true Melchisedec is in us, and we in 
 hiu7, who can j)ay to none greater, and hath freed us, 
 by our union with himself, from all compulsive tributes 
 and taxes in his church. Neither doth the collateral 
 place, Heb. vii. make other use of this story, than to 
 ])rove Christ, personated by Melchisedec, a greater 
 priest than Aaron : ver. 4. " Now consider how great 
 this man was," &c. ; and proves not in the least man- 
 ner that tithes be of any right to ministers, but the 
 contrary : first, the Levitcs had a commandment to take 
 tithes of the people according to the law, that is, of 
 their brethren, though they come out of the loins of 
 Abraham, ver. 5. The commandment then was, it 
 seems, to take tithes of tlie Jews only, and according 
 to the law. That law changing of necessity with the 
 priesthood, no other sort of ministers, as they must 
 needs be another sort under another priesthood, can re- 
 ceive that tribute of tithes which fell with that law, 
 unless renewed by another express command, and ac- 
 cording to another law ; no such law is extant. Next, 
 Melchisedec not as a minister, but as Christ himself in 
 person, blessed Abraham, who " had the promises," 
 ver. 6, and in him blessed all both ministers and peo- 
 ple, both of the law and gospel : that blessing declared 
 him greater and better than whom he blessed, ver. 7, 
 receiving tithes from them all, not as a maintenance, 
 which Melchisedec needed not, but as a sign of homage 
 and subjection to their king and priest : whereas minis- 
 ters bear not the person of Christ in his priesthood or 
 kingship, bless not as he blesses, are not by their bless- 
 
 ing greater than Abraham, and all the faithful with 
 tiiemselves included in him; cannot both give and 
 take tithes in Abraham, cannot claim to themselves 
 that sign of our allegiance due oidy to our eternal king 
 and priest, cannot therefore derive tithes from Melchi- 
 sedec. Lastly, the eighth verse hath thus; "Here 
 men that die receive tithes : there he received them, of 
 whom it is witnessed that he liveth." Which words 
 intimate, that as he offered himself once for us, so he 
 received once of us in Abraham, and in that place tiie 
 typical acknowledgment of our redemption : which 
 had it been a perpetual annuity to Christ, by him 
 claimed as his due, Levi must have paid it yearly, as 
 well as then, ver. 9, and our ministers ought still, to 
 some Melchisedec or other, as well now as they did in 
 Abraham. But that Christ never claimed any such 
 tenth as his annual due, much less resigned it to the 
 ministers, his so officious receivers, without express 
 commission or assignment, will be yet clearer as we 
 proceed. Thus much may at length assure us, that 
 this example of Abraham and Melchisedec, though I 
 see of late they build most upon it, can so little be the 
 ground of any law to us, tliat it will not so much avail 
 them as to the authority of an example. Of like im- 
 pertinence is tliat example of Jacob, Gen. xxviii. 22, 
 who of his free choice, not enjoined by any law, vowed 
 the tenth of all that God should give him : which for 
 aught appears to the contrary, he vowed as a thing no 
 less indifferent before his vow, than the foregoing part 
 thereof: that the stone, which he had set there for a 
 pillar, should be God's house. And to whom vowed 
 lie this tenth, but to God ? Not to any priest, for wc 
 read of none to him greater than himself: and to God, 
 no doubt, but he paid what he vowed, both in the 
 building of that Bethel, with other altars elsewhere, 
 and the expense of his continual sacrifices, which nouc 
 but he had a right to offer. However therefore he 
 paid his tenth, it could in no likelihood, unless by such 
 an occasion as befell his grandfather, be to any priest. 
 But, say they, "All the tithe of the land, whether of 
 the seed of the land, or of the fruit of the tree, is the 
 Lord's, holy unto the Lord, Lev. xxvii. 30." And this 
 before it was given to the Levites ; therefore since they 
 ceased. No question ; For the whole earth is the 
 Lord's, and the fulness thereof, Psal. xxiv. 1, and the 
 light of nature shews us no less : but that the tenth is 
 his more than the rest, how know I, but as he so de- 
 clares it ? He declares it so here of the land of Canaan 
 only, as by all circumstance appears, and passes, by 
 deed of gift, this tenth to the Levite ; yet so as offered 
 to him first a heave-offering, and consecrated on his 
 altar, Numb, xviii. all which I had as little known, but 
 by that evidence. The Levites are ceased, the gift re- 
 turns to the giver. How then can we know that he 
 hath given it to any other ? Or how can these men 
 presume to take it unoffered first to God, unconsecrated, 
 without another clear and express donation, whereof 
 they shew no evidence or writing.^ Besides, he hath 
 now alienated that holy land ; who can warrantably 
 affirm, that he hath since hallowed the tenth of this 
 land, which none but God hath power to do or can 
 
428 
 
 THE LIKEUEST MEANS TO REMOVE 
 
 warrant ? Their last proof Uiey cite out of the gospel, 
 which makes as little for them, Matt, xxiii. 23, where 
 our Saviour denouncing' woe to the scribes and Phari- 
 sees, who paid tithe so exactly, and omitted weightier 
 matters, tells them, that these they ought to have done, 
 that is, to have paid tithes. For our Saviour spake 
 then to those who observed the law of Moses, which 
 was yet not fully abrogated, till the destruction of tJie 
 temple. And by the way here we may observe, out of 
 their own proof, that the scribes and Pharisees, tliough 
 then chief teachers of the people, such at least as were 
 not Lerites, did not take tithes, but paid them: so 
 much less covetous were the scribes and Pharisees in 
 those worse times than oure at this day. This is so 
 apparent to the reformed divines of other countries, 
 that when any one of ours hath attempted in Latin to 
 maintain this argument of tithes, though a man would 
 think they might sutfcr him without opposition, in a 
 point equally tending to the advantage of all ministers, 
 yet they forbear not to oppose him, as in a doctrine not 
 fit to pass unopposed under the gospel. Which shews 
 the modesty, the contenteduess of those foreign pastors, 
 with the maintenance given them, their sincerity also 
 in the truth, though less gainful, and the avarice of 
 ours ; who through the love of their old papistical 
 tithes, consider not the weak arguments, or rather con- 
 jectures and surmises, which they bring to defend them. 
 On the other side, although it be sufficient to have 
 proved in general the abolishing of tithes, as part of 
 the judaical or ceremonial law, which is abolished all, 
 as well that before as that after Moses ; yet I shall 
 further prove them abrogated by an express ordinance 
 of the gospel, founded not on any type, or that munici- 
 pal law of Moses, but on moral and general equity, 
 given us in stead : 1 Cor. ix. 13, 14, " Know ye not, 
 that they who minister about holy things, live of the 
 things of the temple ; and they which wait at the altar, 
 are partakers with the altar ? So also the Lord hath 
 ordained, that they who preach the gospel, should live 
 of the gospel." He saith not, should live on things 
 w hicb were of the tem])le, or of the altar, of which were 
 tithes, for that had given them a clear title : but abro- 
 gating that former law of Moses, which determined 
 v\hat and how much, by a later ordinance of Christ, 
 which leaves the what and how much indefinite and 
 free, so it be sufficient to live on : be saith, " The Lord 
 hath so ordained, that they who preach the gospel, 
 should live of the gospel ;" which hath neither temple, 
 altar, nor sacrifice : Heb. vii. 13, " For he of whom 
 these things are spoken, pertaineth to another tribe, of 
 which no man gave attendance at the altar :'' his minis- 
 ters therefore cannot thence have tithes. And where 
 the Lord hath so ordained, we may find easily in more 
 than one evangelist : Luke x. 7, 8, " In the same house 
 remain, eating and drinking such things as they give : 
 for the labourer is worthy of his hire, &c. And into 
 whatsoever city you enter, and they receive you, eat 
 such things as are set before you." To which ordi- 
 nance of Christ it may seem likeliest, that the apostle 
 refers us both here, and 1 Tim/ v. 18, where he cites 
 this as the saying of our Saviour, " That the labourer 
 
 is worthy of his hire." And both by this place of Luke, 
 and that of Matt. x. 9, 10, 11, it evidently appears, 
 that our Saviour ordained no certain maintenance for 
 his apostles or ministers, publicly or privately, in house 
 or city received ; but that, whatever it were, which 
 might suffice to live on : and this not commanded or 
 proportioned by Abraham orby Moses, whom he might 
 easily have here cited, as his manner was, but declared 
 only by a rule of common equity, which proportions the 
 hire as well to the ability of him who gives, as to the 
 labour of him who receives, and recommends him only 
 as worthy, not invests him with a legal right. And 
 mark whereon he grounds this his ordinance ; not on a 
 perpetual right of tithes from Melchisedec, as hirelings 
 pretend, which he never claimed, either for himself, or 
 for his ministers, but on the plain and common equity 
 of rewarding the labourer; worthy sometimes of single, 
 sometimes of double honour, not proportionable by 
 tithes. And the apostle in this forecited chapter to the 
 Corinthians, vcr. 11, affirms it to be no great recom- 
 pence, if carnal things be reaped for spiritual sown ; 
 but to mention tithes, neglects here the fittest occasion 
 that could be offered him, and leaves the rest free and 
 undetermined. Certainly if Christ or his apostles had 
 approved of tithes, they would have, either by viriting 
 or tradition, recommended them to the church ; and that 
 soon would have appeared in the practice of those pri- 
 mitive and the next ages. But for the first three hun- 
 dred years and more, in all the ecclesiastical story, I 
 find no such doctrine or example : though errour by 
 that time had brought back again priests, altars, and 
 oblations; and in many other points of religion had 
 miserably judaized the church. So that the defenders 
 of tithes, after a long pomp, and tedious preparation 
 out of heathen authors, telling us that tithes were paid 
 to Hercules and Apollo, which perhaps was imitated 
 from the Jews, and as it were bespeaking our expect- 
 ation, that they will abound much more with authori- 
 ties out of christian story, have nothing of general ap- 
 probation to begin with from the first three or four 
 ages, but that which abundantly serves to the confut- 
 ation of their tithes; while they confess that church- 
 men in those ages lived merely upon freewill-offerings. 
 Neither can they say, that tithes were not then paid 
 for want of a civil magistrate to ordain them, for Chris- 
 tians had then also lands, and might give out of them 
 what they pleased ; and yet of tithes then given we 
 find no mention. And the first christian emperors, 
 who did all things as bishops advised thcra, supplied 
 what was wanting to the clergy not out of tithes, 
 which were never motioned, but out of their own im- 
 perial revenues; as is manifest in Eusebius, Theodoret, 
 and Sozomen, from Constantine to Arcadius. Hence 
 those ancientest reformed churches of the Waldenses, 
 if they rather continued not pure since the apostles, 
 denied that tithes were to be given, or that they were 
 ever given in the primitive church, as appears by an 
 ancient tracutc in the Bohemian history. Thus far 
 hath the church been always, whether in her j)rime or 
 in her ancientest reformation, from the appro\iMg of 
 tithes : nor without reason ; for they niiglit easily per- 
 
HIRELINGS OUT OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 429 
 
 ceive that tithes were fitted to the Jews only, a national 
 church of many incomplete synag-ogiies, uniting the 
 accomplishment of divine worship in one temple ; and 
 the Levites there had their tithes paid where they did 
 their bodily work ; to which a particular tribe was set 
 apart by divine appointment, not by the people's elec- 
 tion : but the christian church is universal ; not tied to 
 nation, diocess, or parish, but consisting of many par- 
 ticular churches complete in themselves, gathered not 
 by compulsion, or the accident of dwelling nigh toge- 
 ther, but by free consent, choosing both their particular 
 church and their church-officers. Whereas if tithes be 
 set up, all these christian privileges will be disturbed 
 and soon lost, and with them christian liberty. 
 
 The first authority which our adversaries bring, after 
 those fabulous apostolic canons, which they dare not 
 insist upon, is a provincial council held at Cullen, 
 where they voted tithes to be God's rent, in the year 
 35G ; at tlic same time perhaps when the three kings 
 reigned there, and of like authority. For to what 
 purpose do they bring these trivial testimonies, by 
 which they might as well prove altars, candles at noon, 
 and the greatest part of those superstitions fetched from 
 paganism or Jewisra, which the papist, inveigled by 
 this fond argument of antiquity, retains to this day ? 
 To what purpose those decrees of I know not what 
 bishops, to a parliament and people who have thrown 
 out both bishops and altars, and promised all reforma- 
 tion by the word of God ? And that altars brought 
 tithes hither, as one corruption begot another, is evi- 
 dent by one of those questions, which the monk Aus- 
 tin propounded to the pope, " concerning those things, 
 which by offerings of the faithful came to the altar;" 
 as Beda writes, 1. i. c. 27. If then by these testimo- 
 nies we must have tithes continued, we must again 
 have altars. Of Fathers, by custom so called, they 
 quote Ambrose, Augustin, and some other ceremonial 
 doctors of the same leaven : whose assertion, without 
 pertinent scripture, no reformed church can admit; 
 and what they vouch is founded on the law of Moses, 
 with which every where pitifully mistaken, they again 
 incorporate the gospel ; as did the rest also of those 
 titular Fathei-s, perhaps an age or two before them, by 
 many rites and ceremonies, both Jewish and heathen- 
 ish, introduced ; whereby thinking to gain all, they 
 lost all : and instead of winning Jews and pagans to 
 be Christians, by too much condescending they turned 
 Christians into Jews and pagans. To heap such un- 
 convincing citations as these in religion, whereof the 
 Scripture only is our rule, argues not much learning 
 nor judgment, but the lost labour of much unprofitable 
 reading. And yet a late hot Querist * for tithes, whom 
 ye may know by his wits lying ever beside him in the 
 margin, to be ever beside his wits in the text, a fierce 
 reformer once, now rankled with a contrary heat, would 
 send us back, very reformedly indeed, to learn reforma- 
 tion from Tyndarus and RebuflTus, two canonical pro- 
 moters. They produce next the ancient constitutions 
 of this land, Saxon laws, edicts of kings, and their 
 councils, from Athelstan, in the year 928, that tithes 
 
 » Prjnne. 
 
 by statute were paid : and might produce from Tna, 
 above 200 years before, that Romescot or Peter's penny 
 was by as good statute law paid to the pope ; from 725, 
 and almost as long continued. And who knows not 
 that this law of tithes was enacted by those kingfs and 
 barons upon the opinion they had of their divine right ? 
 as the very words import of Edward the Confessor, in 
 the close of that law : " For so blessed Austin preached 
 and taught;" meaning the monk, who first brought 
 the Romish religion into England from Gregory the 
 pope. And by the way I add, that by these laws, imi- 
 tating the law of Moses, the third part of tithes only 
 was the priest's due ; the other two were appointed for 
 the poor, and to adorn or repair churches; as the ca- 
 nons of Ecbert and Elfric witness : Concil. Brit. If 
 then these laws were founded upon the opinion of di- 
 vine authority, and that authority be found mistaken 
 and erroneous, as hath been fully manifested, it follows, 
 that these laws fall of themselves with their false foun- 
 dation. But with what face or conscience can they 
 allege Moses or these laws for titles, as they now en- 
 joy or exact them ; whereof Moses ordains the owner, 
 as we heard before, the stranger, the fatherless, and 
 the widow, partakers of the Levite ; and these Fathers 
 which they cite, and these though Romish rnthcr than 
 English laws, allotted both to ])ii(st and liislio]) tlie 
 third part only ? But these our protcstant, these our 
 new reformed English presbyterian divines, against 
 their own cited authors, and to the shame of their pre- 
 tended reformation, would engross to ihrmsflvrs nil 
 tithes by statute ; and supported more liy tlirir uilCiil 
 obstinacy and desire of filthy lucre, than by these l)()th 
 insufficient and impertinent authorities, would persuade 
 a christian magistracy and parliament, whom we trust 
 God hath restored for a happier reformation, to impose 
 upon us a judaical ceremonial law, and yet from that 
 law to be more irregular and unwarrantable, more com- 
 plying with a covetous clergy, than any of those popish 
 kings and parliaments alleged. Another sliift tlu>y 
 have to plead, that tithes may be moral as well as the 
 sabbath, a tenth of fruits as well as a seventh of days : 
 I answer, that the prelates who urge this argument 
 have least reason to use it, denying morality in the 
 sabbath, and therein better agreeing with reformed 
 churches abroad than the rest of our divines. As 
 therefore the seventh day is not moral, but a convenient 
 recourse of worship in fit season, whether seventh or 
 other number ; so neither is the tenth of our goods, 
 but only a convenient subsistence morally due to minis- 
 ters. The last and lowest sort of their arguments, 
 that men purchased not their tithe with their land, and 
 such like pettifoggery, I omit ; as refuted sufficiently 
 by others : I omit also their violent and irreligious ex- 
 actions, related no less credibly ; their seizing of pots 
 and pans from the poor, who have as good right to 
 tithes as they ; from some, the very beds ; their suing 
 and imprisoning, worse than when the canon law was 
 in force; worse than when those wicked sons of Eli 
 were priests, whose manner was thus to seize their 
 pretended priestly due by force; 1 Sam. ii. 12, &c. 
 
430 
 
 THE LIKELIEST MEANS TO REMOVE 
 
 " Whereby men abhorred the offering' of the Lonl." 
 And it may be feared, that many will as much abhor 
 the gospel, if such violence as this be suffered in her 
 ministers, and in that which they also pretend to be 
 the offerin;^ of the Lord. For those sons of Belial 
 within some limits made seizure of what they knew 
 was their own by an undoubted law ; but these, from 
 whom there is no sanctuary, seize out of men's 
 g'rounds, out of men's houses, their other goods of 
 double, sometimes of treble value, for that which, did 
 not covetousness and rapine blind them, they know to 
 be not their own by the gospel which they preach. 
 Of some more tolerable than these, thus severely God 
 hath spoken ; Isa. xlvi. 10, &c. " They are greedy 
 dogs ; they all look to their own way, every one for 
 his gain, from his quarter." With what anger then 
 will he judge them who stand not looking, but un- 
 der colour of a divine right, fetch by force that which 
 is not their own, taking his name not in vain, but in 
 Tiolence ? Nor content, as Gehazi was, to make a cun- 
 ning, but a constrained advantage of what their master 
 bids them give freely, how can they but return smitten, 
 worse than that sharking minister, with a spiritual 
 leprosy ? And yet they cry out sacrilege, that men will 
 not be gulled and baffled the tenth of their estates, by 
 giving credit to frivolous pretences of divine right. 
 Where did God ever clearly declare to all nations, or 
 in all lands, (and none but fools part with their estates 
 without clearest evidence, on bare supposals and pre- 
 sumptions of them who are the gainers thereby,) that 
 he required the tenth as due to him or his Son perpetu- 
 ally and in all places ? Where did he demand it, that 
 we might certainly know, as in all claims of temporal 
 right is just and reasonable? or if demanded, where 
 did he assign it, or by what evident conveyance to mi- 
 nisters .'' Unless they can demonstrate this by more 
 than conjectures, their title can be no better to tithes 
 than the title of Gehazi was to those things which by 
 abusing his master's name he rooked from Naaman, 
 Much less where did he command that tithes should 
 be fetched by force, where left not under the gospel, 
 whatever his right was, to the freewill-offerings of 
 men .-• Which is the greater sacrilege, to .bely divine 
 authority, to make the name of Christ accessory to vio- 
 lence, and robbing him of the very honour which he 
 aimed at in bestowing freely the gospel, to commit 
 simony and rapine, both secular and ecclesiastical ; 
 or on the other side, not to give up the tenth of civil 
 right and propriety to the tricks and impostures of 
 clergymen, contrived with all the art and argument 
 that their bellies can invent or suggest ; yet so ridicu- 
 lous and presuming on the people's dulness and super- 
 stition, as to think they prove the divine right of their 
 maintenance by Abraham paying tithes to Melchisedec, 
 whenas Melchisedec in that passage rather gave main- 
 tenance to Abraham ; in whom all, both priests and 
 ministers as well as laymen, paid tithes, not received 
 them. And because I affirmed above, beginning this 
 first part of my discourse, that God hath given to mi- 
 nisters of the gospel that maintenance only which is 
 justly given them, let us see a little what hath been 
 
 thought of that other maintenance besides tithes, which 
 of all jjfotestants our English divines either only or 
 most apparently both require and take. Those are fees 
 for christenings, marriages, and burials : which, though 
 whoso will may give freely, yet being not of right, but 
 of free gift, if they be exacted or established, they be- 
 come unjust to them who are otherwise maintained ; 
 and of such evil note, that even the council of Trent, 
 1. ii. ]). 240, makes them liable to the laws against 
 simony, who take or demand fees for the administering 
 of any sacrament : " Che la sinodo volendo levare gli 
 abusi introdotti," &c. And in the next page, with like 
 severity, condemns the giving or taking for a benefice, 
 and the celebrating of marriages, christenings, and 
 burials, for fees exacted or demanded : nor counts it 
 less simony to sell the ground or place of burial. And 
 in a state-assembly at Orleans, 1561, it was decreed, 
 " Che non si potesse essiger cosa alcuna, &c. p. 429, 
 That nothing should be exacted for the administring 
 of sacraments, burials, or any other spiritual function." 
 Thus much that council, of all othei-s the most popish, 
 and this assembly of papists, though, by their own' 
 principles, in bondage to the clergy, were induced, 
 either by their own reason and shame, or by the light 
 of reformation then shining in upon thcni, or rather 
 by the known canons of many councils and synods long 
 before, to condemn of simony spiritual fees demanded. 
 For if the minister be maintained for his whole ministry, 
 why should he be twice paid for any part thereof.'' 
 Why should he, like a servant, seek vails over and 
 above his wages ? As for christenings, either they 
 themselves call men to baptism, or men of themselves 
 come : if ministers invite, how ill had it become John 
 the Baptist to demand fees for his baptizing, or Christ 
 for his christenings .'' Far less becomes it these now, 
 with a greediness lower than that of tradesmen calling 
 passengers to their shop, and yet paid beforehand, to 
 ask again fordoing that which those their founders did 
 freely. If men of themselves come to be baptized, they 
 are either brought by such as already pay the minister, 
 or come to be one of his disciples and maintainers : of 
 whom to ask a fee as it were for entrance is a piece of 
 paltry craft or caution, befitting none but beggarly 
 artists. Burials and marriages are so little to be any 
 part of their gain, that they who consider well may 
 find them to be no part of their function. At burials 
 their attendance they allege on the corpse ; all the 
 guests do as much unhired. But their prayers at the 
 grave; superstitiously required : yet if required, their 
 last performance to the deceased of their own flock. 
 But the funeral sermon ; at their choice, or if not, an 
 occasion offered them to preach out of season, which is 
 one part of their office. But something must be spoken 
 in praise; if due, their duty; if undue, their corruption : 
 a peculiar simony of our divines in England only. 
 But the ground is broken, and especially their unright- 
 eous possession, the chancel. To sell that, will not only 
 raise up in j udgraent the council of Trent against them, 
 but will lose them the best champion of tithes, their 
 zealous antiquary, Sir Henry Spelman; who in a book 
 written to that purj)ose, by many cited canons, and some 
 
HIRELINGS OUT OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 431 
 
 even of times corruptest in the church, proves that fees 
 exacted or demanded for sacraments, marriages, burials, 
 and especially for interring-, are wicked, accursed, "si- 
 moniacal, and abominable: yet thus is the church, for 
 all this noise of reformation, left still unreforraed, by 
 the censure of their own synods, their own favourers, 
 a den of thieves and robbers. As for marriages, that 
 ministers should meddle with them, as not sanctified or 
 legitimate, without their celebration, I find no ground 
 in Scripture either of precept or example. Likeliest it 
 is (which our Selden hath well observed, 1. 2, c. 28, 
 Ux. Eb.) that in imitation of heathen priests, who were 
 wont at nuptials to use many rites and ceremonies, and 
 especially, judging it would be profitable, and the in- 
 crease of their authority, not to be spectators only in 
 business of such concernment to the life of man, they in- 
 sinuated that marriage was not holy without their bene- 
 diction, and forthebettercolour,madeitasacrament; be- 
 ing of itself a civil ordinance, a household contract, a 
 thing indiflTerent and free to the whole race of mankind, 
 not as religious, but as men : best, indeed, undertaken to 
 religious ends, and as the apostle saith, 1 Cor. vii. " in 
 tiie Lord." Yet not therefore invalid or unholy with- 
 out a minister and his pretended necessary hallowing, 
 more than any other act, enterprise, or contract of civil 
 life, which ought all to be done also in the Ix)rd and 
 to his glory : all which, no less than marriage, were 
 by the cunning of priests heretofore, as material to 
 their profit, transacted at the altar. Our divines deny 
 it to be a sacrament ; yet retained the celebration, till 
 prudently a late parliament recovered the civil liberty 
 of marriage from their encroachment, and transferred 
 the ratifying and registering thereof from the canonical 
 shop to the proper cognizance of civil magistrates. 
 Seeing then, that God hath given to ministers under 
 the gospel that only which is justly given them, that 
 is to say, a due and moderate livelihood, the hire of 
 their labour, and that the heave-offering of tithes is 
 abolished with the altar; yea, though not abolished, 
 yet lawless, as they enjoy them; their Melchisedechian 
 right also trivial and groundless, and both tithes and 
 fees, if exacted or established, unjust and scandalous; 
 we may hope, with them removed, to remove hirelings 
 in some good measure, whom these tempting baits, by 
 law especially to be recovered, allure into the church. 
 The next thing to be considered in the maintenance 
 of ministers, is by whom it should be given. Wiierein 
 though the light of reason might sufficiently inform us, 
 it will be best to consult the Scripture : Gal. vi. 6, 
 " Let him that is taught in the word, coninuinicate to 
 him that tcacheth, in all good things :" that is to say, 
 in all manner of gratitude, to his ability. 1 Cor. ix. 11, 
 " If we have sown unto you spiritual things, is it a 
 great matter if we reap your carnal things ?" To whom 
 therefore hath not been sown, from him wherefore 
 should be reaped ? 1 Tim. v. 17, " Let the elders that 
 rule well, be counted worthy of double honour; espe- 
 cially tliey who labour in word and doctrine." By 
 these places we see, that recompence was given either 
 by every one in particular who had been instructed, or 
 by them all in common, brought into the church-trea- 
 
 sury, and distributed to the ministers according to 
 their several labours : and that was judged either by 
 some extraordinary person, as Timothy, who by the 
 apostle was then left evangelist at Ephesus, 2 Tim. iv. 
 5, or by some to whom the church deputed that care. 
 This is so agreeable to reason, and so clear, that any 
 one may perceive what iniquity and violence hath pre- 
 vailed since in the church, whereby it hath been so 
 ordered, that they also shall be compelled to recompense 
 the parochial minister, who neither chose him for their 
 teacher, nor have received instruction from him, as 
 being either insufficient, or not resident, or inferiour to 
 whom they follow; wherein to bar them their choice, 
 is to violate christian liberty. Our law books testify, 
 that before the council of Lateran, in the year 1179, 
 and the fifth of our Henry II, or rather before a de- 
 cretal Epistle of pope Innocent the Illd, about 1200, 
 and the first of King John, " any man might have 
 given his tithes to what spiritual person he would :" 
 and as the Lord Coke notes on that place, Instit. part 2, 
 that " this decretal bound not the subjects of this realm, 
 but as it seemed just and reasonable." The pope took 
 his reason rightly from the above-cited place, 1 Cor. 
 ix. 11, but falsely supposed every one to be instructed 
 by his parish priest. Whether this were then first so 
 decreed, or rather long before, as may seem by the laws 
 of Edgar and Canute, that tithes were to be paid, not 
 to whom he would that paid them, but to the cathedral 
 church or the parish priest, it imports not ; since the 
 reason which they themselves bring, built on false sup- 
 position, becomes alike infirm and absurd, that he 
 should reap from me, who sows not to me ; be the 
 cause either his defect, or my free choice. But here it 
 will be readily objected. What if they who are to be 
 instructed be not able to maintain a minister, as in 
 many villages ? I answer, that the Scripture shews in 
 many places what ought to be done herein. First I 
 offer it to the reason of any man, whether he think the 
 knowledge of christian religion harder than any other 
 art or science to attain. I suppose he will grant that 
 it is far easier, both of itself, and in regard of God's 
 assisting Spiritj not particularly promised us to the at- 
 tainment of any other knowledge, but of this only : 
 since it was preached as well to the shepherds of Beth- 
 lehem by angels, as to the eastern wise men by that 
 star ; and our Saviour declares himself anointed to 
 preach the gospel to the poor, Luke iv. 18 ; then surely 
 to their capacity. They who after him first taught it, 
 were otherwise unlearned men : they who before II us 
 and Luther fii-st reformed it, were for the meanness of 
 their condition called, " the poor men of Lions :" and 
 in Flanders at this day, " le Gueus," which is to say. 
 Beggars. Therefore are the Scriptures translated into 
 every vulgar tongue, as being held in main matters of 
 belief and salvation, plain and easy to the poorest : and 
 such no less than their teachers have the spirit to guide 
 them in all truth, John xiv. 26, and xvi. 13. Hence 
 we may conclude, if men be not all their lifetime under 
 a teacher to learn logic, natural philosophy, ethics, or 
 mathematics, which are more difficult, that certainly it 
 is not necessary to the attainment of christian know- 
 
433 
 
 THE LIKELIEST MEANS TO REMOVE 
 
 led<rc, that men should sit all their life long at the feet 
 of a pulpited divine ; while he, a loliard indeed over 
 fais elhotv cushion, in almost the seventh part of forty 
 or fifty years teaches them scarce half the principles of 
 religion; and his sheep ofttimes sit the while to as little 
 purpose of benefitting, as the sheep in their pews at 
 Smithfield ; aud for the most part by some simony or 
 other bought and sold like them : or if this comparison 
 be too low, like those women, 1 Tim. iii. 7, " Ever learn- 
 ing and never attaining;" yet not so much through 
 their own fault, as through the unskilful and immetho- 
 dical teaching of their pastor, teaching here and there 
 at random out of this or that text, as his ease or fancy, 
 and ofttimes as his stealth, guides him. Seeing then 
 that christian religion may be so easily attained, and by 
 meanest capacities, it cannot be much difficult to find 
 ways, both how the poor, yea all men, may be soon 
 taught what is to be known of Christianity, and they 
 who teach them, recompensed. First, if ministers of 
 their own accord, who pretend that they are called and 
 sent to preach the gospel, those especially who have no 
 particular flock, would imitate our Saviour and his dis- 
 ciples, who went preaching through the villages, not 
 only through the cities. Matt. ix. 35, Mark vi. 6, Luke 
 xiii. 22, Acts viii. 25, and there preached to the poor as 
 well as to the rich, looking for no recompence but in 
 heaven : John iv. 35, 36, " Look on the fields, for they 
 are white already to harvest : and he that reapeth, re- 
 ceiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal." 
 This was their wages. But they will soon reply, we 
 ourselves have not wherewithal ; who shall bear the 
 charges of our journey ? To whom it may as soon be 
 answered, that in likelihood they are not poorer, than 
 they who did thus ; and if they have not the same faith, 
 which those disciples had to trust in God and the pro- 
 raise of Christ for their maintenance as they did, and 
 yet intrude into the ministry without any livelihood of 
 their own, they cast themselvc!.' into miserable hazard 
 or temptation, and ofttimes into a more miserable neces- 
 sity, either to starve, or to please their paymasters rather 
 than God; and give men just cause to suspect, that 
 they came neither called nor sent from above to preach 
 the word, but from below, by the instinct of tL^ir own 
 hunger, to feed upon the church. Yet grant it needful 
 to allow them both the chargesof their journey and the 
 hire of their labour, it will belong next to the charity 
 of richer congregations, where most commonly they 
 abound with teachers, to send some of their number to 
 the villages round, as the apostles from Jerusalem sent 
 Peter and John to the city and villages of Samaria, 
 Acts viii. 14, 25; or as the church at Jerusalem sent 
 Barnabas to Antioch, chap. xi. 22, and other churcljcs 
 joining sent Luke to travel with Paul, 2 Cor. viii. 19; 
 though whether they had their charges home by the 
 church or no, it be not recorded. If it be objected, that 
 this itinerary preaching will not serve fo plant the 
 gospel in those places, unless they who are sent abide 
 there some competent time ; I answer, that if they stay 
 there a year or two, which was the longest time usually 
 staid by the apostles in one place, it may suffice to teach 
 them, who will attend and learn all the points of reli- 
 
 gion necessary to salvation ; then sorting them into 
 several congregations of a moderate number, outof tiie 
 ablest and zealousest among them to create ciders, who, 
 exercising and requiring from themselves what they 
 have learned, (for no learning is retained without con- 
 stant exercise and methodical repetition,) may teach and 
 govern the rest: aud so exhorted to continue faithful 
 and stedfast, they may securely be committed to the 
 providence of God and the guidance of his Holy Spirit, 
 till God may offer some opportunity to visit them again, 
 aud to confirm them : which when they have done, 
 they have done as much as the apostles were wont to 
 do in propagating the gospel, Acts xiv. 23, " And when 
 they had ordained them elders in every church, and had 
 prayed with fasting, they commended them to the Lord, 
 on whom they believed." And in the same chapter, 
 ver. 21, 22, " When they had preached the gospel to 
 that city, and had taught many, they returned again 
 to Lj'stra, and to Iconium and Antioch, confirming the 
 souls of the disciples, and exhorting them to continue 
 in the faith." And chap. xv. 36, " Let us go again, 
 and visit our brethren." And ver. 41, "He went 
 through Syria and Cilicia, confirming the churches." 
 To these I might add other helps, which we enjoy now, 
 to make more easy the attainment of christian religion 
 by the meanest : the entire Scripture translated into 
 English with plenty of notes ; and somewhere or other, 
 I trust, may be found some wholesome body of divinity, 
 as they call it, without school-terms and metaphysical 
 notions, which have obscured rather than explained 
 our religion, and made it seem difficult without cause. 
 Thus taught once for all, and thus now and then visited 
 and confirmed, in tiie most destitute and poorest places 
 of the land, under the government of their own elders 
 performing all ministerial offices among them, they 
 may be trusted to meet and edify one another whether 
 in church or chapel, or, to save them the trudging of 
 many miles thither, nearer home, though in a house or 
 bam. For notwithstanding the gaudy superstition of 
 some devoted still ignorantly to temples, we may b;; 
 well assured, that he who disdained not to be laid in a 
 manger, disdains not to be preached in a barn ; and 
 that by such meetings as these, being indeed most 
 apostolical and primitive, they will in a short time ad- 
 vance more in christian knowledge and reformation of 
 life, than by the many years' preaching of such an in- 
 cumbent, I may say, such an Incubus ofttimes, as will 
 be meanly hired to abide long in those places. They 
 have this left perhaps to object further ; that to send 
 thus, and to maintain, though but for a year or two, 
 ministers and teachers in several places, would prove 
 chargeable to the churches, though in towns and cities 
 round about. To whom again I answer, that it was 
 not thought so by them who first thus propagated the 
 gospel, though but few in number to us, ainl much less 
 able to sustain the expense. Yet this expense would 
 be much less than to hire incumbents, or rather incum- 
 brances, for lifetime ; and a great means (which is the 
 subject of this discourse) to diminish hirelings. But be 
 the expense less or more, if it be found burdensome to 
 the churches, they have in this land an easy remedy in 
 
HIRELINGS OUT OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 433 
 
 their recourse to the civil magistrate; who hath in his 
 hands the disposal of no small revenues, left perhaps 
 anciently to superstitious, but meant undoubtedly to 
 g-ood and best uses ; and therefore, once made public, 
 appliable hy the present magistrate to such uses as the 
 church, or solid reason from whomsoever, shall con- 
 vince him to think best. And those uses may be, no 
 doubt, much rather than as glebes and augmentations 
 are now bestowed, to grant such rcijuests as these of 
 the churches; or to erect in greater number, all over 
 the land, schools, and competent libraries to those 
 schools, where languages and arts may be taught free 
 together, without the needless, unprofitable, and incon- 
 venient removing to another place. So all the land 
 would be soon better civilized, and they who are taught 
 freely at the public cost might have their education 
 given them on this condition, that therewith content, 
 they should not gad for preferment out of their own 
 country, but continue there thankful for what they re- 
 ceived freely, bestowing it as freely on their country, 
 without soaring above the meanness wherein they were 
 born. But how they shall live when they are thus bred 
 and dismissed, will be still the sluggish objection. To 
 which is answered, that those ])ub]ic foundations may 
 be so instituted, as the youth therein may be at once 
 brought up to a conij)etence of learning and to an ho- 
 nest trade ; and the hours of teaching so ordered, as 
 their study may be no hindrance to their labour or 
 other calling. This was the breeding of St. Paul, 
 though born of no mean parents, a free citizen of the 
 Roman empire : so little did his trade debase him, that it 
 rather enabled him to use that magnanimity of preach- 
 ing the gospel through Asia and Europe at his own 
 charges. Thus those preachers ammg the poor Wal- 
 denses, the ancient stock of our reformation, without 
 these helps which I speak of, bred up themselves in 
 trades, and especially in physic and surgery, as well as 
 in the study of Scripture, (which is the only true theo- 
 logy,) that they might be no burden to the church ; and 
 by the example of Christ, might cure both soul and 
 body; through industry joining that to their ministry, 
 which he joined to his by gift of the spirit. Thus re- 
 lates Peter Gilles in his history of the Waldenses in 
 Picmont. But our ministers think scorn to use a trade, 
 and count it the reproach of this age, that tradesmen 
 preach the gospel. It were to be wished they wore all 
 tradesmen ; they would not so many of them, for want 
 of anotlier trade, make a trade of their preaching: and 
 yet they clamour that tradesmen preach ; and yet thev 
 preach, while thoy themselves are the worst tradesmen 
 of all. As for church-endowments and possessions, I 
 meet with none considerable before Constantine, but 
 the houses and gardens where they met, and their 
 places of burial ; and I persuade me, that from the an- 
 cient Waldenses, whom deservedly I cite so often, held, 
 " That to endow churches is an evil thing; and, that 
 the church then fell oft" and turned whore, sitting on 
 that beast in the Revelation, when under pope Sylves- 
 ter she recci\cd those temporal donations." So the fore- 
 cited tractate of their doctrine testifies. This also their 
 own traditions of that heavenly voice witnessed, and 
 
 some of the ancient fathers then living foresaw and 
 deplored. And indeed, how could these endowments 
 thrive better with the church, being unjustly taken by 
 those emperors, without suffrage of the people, out of 
 the tributes and public lands of each city, whereby the 
 people became liable to be oppressed with other taxes. 
 Being therefore given for the most part by kings and 
 other public persons, and so likeliest out of the public, 
 and if without the people's consent, unjustly, however 
 to public ends of much concernment, to the good or 
 evil of a commonwealth, and in that regard made pub- 
 lic though given by private persons, or which is worse, 
 given, as the clergy then persuaded men, for their souls' 
 health, a pious gift ; but as the truth was, ofttimes a 
 bribe to God, or to Christ for absolution, as they were 
 then taught, from murders, adulteries, and other hein- 
 ous crimes ; what shall be found heretofore given by 
 kings or princes out of the public, may justly by tlic 
 magistrate be recalled and reappropriated to the civil 
 revenue : what by private or public persons out of their 
 own, the price of blood or lust, or to some such j)urga- 
 torious and superstitious uses, not only may, but ought 
 to be taken off from Christ, as a foul dishonour laid 
 upon him, or not impiously given, nor in particular to 
 any one, but in general to the church's good, may bo 
 converted to that use, which shall be judged tending 
 more directly to that general end. Thus did the princes 
 and cities of Germany in the first reformation ; and 
 defended their so doing by many reasons, which are 
 set down at large in Sleidan, Lib. 6, Anno 152G, and 
 Lib. U, Anno 15;37, and Lib. 13, Anno 1.540. But that 
 the magistrate either out of that church-revenue which 
 remains yet in his hand, or establishing any other 
 maintenance instead of tithe, should take into his own 
 power the stipendiary maintenance of church-minis- 
 tei-s, or compel it by law, can stand neither with the 
 people's right, nor with christian liberty, but would 
 suspend the church wh-Uy upon the state, and turn 
 ministers into state pensioners. And for the magistrate 
 in person of a nursing father to make the church his 
 mere ward, as always in minority, the church, to whom 
 he ought as a magistrate, Isa. xlix. 23, " to bow down 
 with hi; face toward the earth, and lick up the dust of 
 her feet;" her to subject to his political drifts or con- 
 ceived opinions, by mastering her revenue; and so by 
 his examiuant committees to circumscribe her free elec- 
 tion of ministers, is neither just nor pious; no honour 
 done to the church, but a plain dishonour: and upon 
 her whose only head is in heaven, yea upon him, who 
 is only head, sets another in effect, and which is most 
 monstrous, a human on a heavenly, a carnal on a s])i- 
 ritual, a political herd on an ecclesiastical body ; w hich 
 at length by such heterogeneal, such incestuous con- 
 junction, transforms her ofttimes into a beast of many 
 heads and many horns. For if the church be of all 
 societies the holiest on earth, and so to be reverenced 
 by the magistrate; not to trust her with her own 1; lief 
 and integrity, and therefore not with the keeping, at 
 least with the disposing, of what revenue shall be found 
 justly and lawfully her own, is to count the church not 
 a holy congregation, but a pack of giddy or dishonest 
 
434 
 
 THE LIKELIEST MEANS TO REMOVE 
 
 persons, to be ruled by civil power in sacred affairs. 
 But to proceed further in the truth yet more freely, 
 seeing the christian church is not national, but consist- 
 ingf of many particular congrejfations, subject to many 
 changes, as well through civil accidents, as through 
 schisms and various opinions, not to be decided by any 
 outward judge, being matters of conscience, whereby 
 these pretended church-revenues, as they have been 
 ever, so are like to continue endless matter of dissen- 
 sion both between the church and magistrate, and the 
 churches among themselves, there will be found no 
 better remedy to tiiese evils, otherwise incurable, than 
 by the incorruptest council of those Waldenses, or first 
 reformers, to remove them as a pest, an apple of discord 
 in the church, (for what else can be the effect of riches, 
 and the snare of money in religion ?) and to convert 
 them to those more profitable uses above expressed, or 
 other such as shall be judged most necessary; consider- 
 ing that the church of Christ was founded in poverty 
 rather than in revenues, stood purest and prospered best 
 without them, received them unlawfully from them who 
 both erroneously and unjustly, sometimes impiously, 
 gave them, and so justly was ensnared and corrupted by 
 them. And lest it be thought that, these revenues with- 
 drawn and better employed, the magistrateoughtinstead 
 to settle by statute some maintenance of ministers, let 
 this be considered first, that it concerns every man's 
 conscience to what religion he contributes; and that the 
 civil magistrate is intrusted with civil rights only, not 
 with conscience, which can have no deputy or repre- 
 senter of itself, but one of the same mind : next, that 
 what each man gives to the minister, he gives either as 
 to God, or as to his teacher; if as to God, no civil 
 power can justly consecrate to religious uses any part 
 either of civil revenue, which is the people's, and must 
 save them from other taxes, or of any man's propriety, 
 but God by special command, as he did by Moses, or 
 the owner himself by voluntary intention and the per- 
 suasion of his giving it to God. Forced consecrations 
 out of another man's estate are no better than forced 
 vows, hateful to God, " who loves a cheerful giver;" 
 but much more hateful, wrung out of men's purses to 
 maintain a disapproved ministry against their con- 
 science; however unholy, infamous, and dishonourable 
 to bis ministers and the free gospel, maintained in such 
 unworthy manner as by violence and extortion. If he 
 give it as to his teacher, what justice or equity compels 
 him to pay for learning that religion which leaves 
 freely to his choice, whether he will learn it or no, 
 whether of this teacher or another, and especially to 
 pay for what he never learned, or approves not; where- 
 by, besides the wound of his conscience, he becomes 
 the less able to recompense his true teacher ? Thus far 
 hath been inquired by whom church-ministers ought to 
 be maintained, and hath been proved most natural, 
 most equal and agreeable with Scripture, to be by them 
 who receive their teaching ; and by whom, if they be 
 unable. Which ways well observed can discourage 
 none but hirelings, and will much lessen their number 
 in the church. 
 It remains lastly to consider, in what manner God 
 
 hath ordained that recompense be given to ministers of 
 the gospel ; and by all Scripture it will appear, that In 
 hath given it them not by civil law and freehold, as 
 they claim, but by the benevolence and free gratitude 
 of such as receive them : Luke x. 7, 8, " Eating and 
 drinking such things as they gave you. If they re- 
 ceive you, eat such things as are set before you." 
 Matt. x. 7, 8, " As ye go, preach, saying. The king- 
 dom of God is at hand, &c. Freely ye have received, 
 freely give." If God have ordained ministers to preach 
 freely, whether they receive recompense or not, then 
 certainly he hath forbid both tiiem to compel it, and 
 others to compel it for them. But freely given, he ac- 
 counts it as given to himself: Phil. iv. 16, 17, 18, "Vc 
 sent once and again to my necessity : not because I 
 desire a gift ; but I desire fruit, that may abound to 
 your account. Having received of Epaphroditus the 
 things which were sent from you, an odour of sweet 
 smell, a sacrifice acceptable, well-pleasing to God;" 
 which cannot be from force or unwillingness. The 
 same is said of alms, Heb. xiii. 16, " To do good and to 
 communicate, forget not; for with such sacrifice God i-^ 
 well pleased." Whence the primitive church thougli; 
 it no shame to receive all their maintenance as the alms 
 of their auditors. Which they who defend tithes, as if 
 it made for their cause, whenas it utterly confutes them, 
 omit not to set down at large; proving to our hands 
 out of Origcn, Tertullian, Cyprian, and others, that the 
 clergy lived at first upon the mere benevolence of their 
 hearers ; who gave what they gave, not to the clergy, 
 but to the church ; out of which the clergy had their 
 portions given them in baskets, and were thence called 
 sportularii, basket-clerks : that their portion was a very 
 mean allowance, only for a bare livelihood ; according 
 to those precepts of our Saviour, Matt. x. 7, &c. the 
 rest was distributed to the poor. They cite also out of 
 Prosper, the disciple of St. Austin, that such of the 
 clergy as had means of their own, might not without 
 sin partake of church maintenance ; not receiving 
 thereby food which they abound with, but feeding on 
 the sins of other men : that the Holy Ghost saith of 
 such clergymen, they eat the sins of my people ; and 
 that a council at Antioch, in the year 340, suffered not 
 either priest or bishop to live on church-maintenance 
 without necessity. Thus far tithers themselves have 
 contributed to their own confutation, by confessing that 
 the church lived primitively on alms. And I add, tjiat 
 about the year 359, Constantius the emperor having 
 summoned a general council of bishops to Arn)inium 
 in Italy, and provided for their subsistence there, the 
 British and French l)ishops judging it not decent to 
 live on the public, chose rather to be at their own 
 charges. Three only out of Britain constrained through 
 want, yet refusing offered assistance from the rest, ac- 
 cepted tlic emperor's provision; judging it more con- 
 venient to subsist by public than by private sustenance. 
 Whence we may conclude, that bishops then in this 
 island had their livelihood only from benevolence ; in 
 which regard this relater Sulpitius Severus, a good 
 author of the same time, highly praises them. And ili' 
 Waldenses, our first reformers, both from the Scriptmr 
 
HIRELINGS OUT OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 435 
 
 and these primitive examples, maintained those among' 
 them who bore the office of ministers by alms only. 
 Take their very words from the history written of them 
 in French, Part 3, Lib. 2, Chap. 2, " La nourriture et 
 ce de quoy nous sommes converts, &c. Our food and 
 clothing- is sufficiently administered and given to us 
 by way of gratuity and alms, by the good people 
 ■whom we teach." If then by alms and benevolence, 
 not by legal force, not by tenure of freehold or copy- 
 hold : for alms, though just, cannot be compelled ; and 
 benevolence forced is malevolence rather, violent and 
 inconsistent with the gospel ; and declares him no true 
 minister thereof, but a rapacious hireling rather, who 
 by force receiving it, eats the bread of violence and 
 exaction, no holy or just livelihood, no not civilly 
 counted honest; much less beseeming such a spiritual 
 ministry. But, say tliey, our maintenance is our due, 
 tithes the right of Christ, unseparable from the priest, 
 no where repealed; if then, not otherwise to be had, 
 by law to be recovered : for though Paul were pleased 
 to forego his due, and not to use his power, 1 Cor. 
 ix. 12, yet he had a power, ver. 4, and bound not 
 others. I answer first, because I see them still so loth 
 to unlearn their decimal arithmetic, and still grasp their 
 tithes as inseparable from a priest, that ministers of 
 the gospel are not priests ; and therefore separated from 
 tithes by their exclusion, being neither called priests 
 in the New Testament, nor of any order known in 
 Scripture : not of Melchisedec, proper to Christ only • 
 not of Aaron, as they themselves will confess; and the 
 third priesthood only remaining, is common to all the 
 faithful. But they arc ministers of our high priest. — 
 True, but not of his priesthood, as the Levites were to 
 Aaron ; for he performs that whole office himself in- 
 communicably. Yet tithes remain, say they, still un- 
 released, the due of Christ ; and to whom payable, but 
 to his ministers.^ I say again, that no man can so 
 understand them, unless Christ in some place or other 
 so claim them. That exaniple of Abraham argues no- 
 thing but his voluntary act; honour once only done, 
 but on what consideration, whether to a priest or to a 
 king, whether due the honour, arbitrary that kind of 
 honour or not, will after all contending be left still in 
 mere conjecture : which must not be permitted in the 
 claim of such a needy and subtle spiritual corporation, 
 pretending by divine right to the tenth of all other 
 men's estates ; nor can it be allowed by wise men or 
 the verdict of common law. And the tenth part, 
 though once declared holy, is declared now to be no 
 holier than the other nine, by that command to Peter, 
 Acts X. 15, 28, whereby all distinction of holy and un- 
 holy is removed from all things. Tithes therefore, 
 though claimed, and holy under the law, yet are now 
 released and quitted both by that command to Peter, 
 and by this to all ministers, above-cited Luke x. " eat- 
 ing and drinking such things as they give you :" 
 made holy now by their free gift only. And therefore 
 St. Paul, 1 Cor. ix. 4, asserts his power indeed ; but 
 of what ? not of tithes, but "to eat and drink such 
 things as are given" in reference to this command ; 
 which he calls not holy things, or things of the gospel, 
 2 F 
 
 as if the gospel had any consecrated things in answer 
 to things of the temple, ver. 13, but he calls them 
 "your carnal things," ver. 11, without changing their 
 property. And what power had he ? Not the power 
 of force, but of conscience only, whereby he might law- 
 fully and without scruple live on the gospel ; receiving 
 what was given him, as the recompence of his labour 
 For if Christ the Master hath professed his kingdom 
 to be not of this world, it suits not with that profession, 
 either in him or his ministers, to claim temporal right 
 from spiritual respects. He who refused to be the di- 
 vider of an inheritance between two brethren, cannot 
 approve his ministers, by pretended right from him, to 
 be dividers of tenths and freeholds out of other men's 
 possessions, making thereby the gospel but a cloak of 
 carnal interest, and to the contradiction of their master, 
 turning his heavenly kingdom into a kingdom of this 
 world, a kingdom of force and rapine : to whom it will 
 be one day thundered more terribly than to Gehazi, for 
 thus dishonouring a far greater master and his gospel; 
 " Is this a time to receive money, and to receive gar- 
 ments, and oliveyards, and vineyards, and sheep and 
 oxen .•"' The lepros}' of Naaman, linked with that 
 apostolic curse of perishing imprecated on Simon Ma- 
 gus, may be feared will "cleave to such and to their 
 seed for ever." So that when all is done, and belly 
 hath used in vain all her cunning shifts, I doubt not 
 but all true ministers, considering the demonstration of 
 what hath been here proved, will be wise, and think it 
 much more tolerable to hear, that no maintenance of 
 ministers, whether tithes or any other, can be settled by 
 statute, but must be given by them who receive instruc- 
 tion ; and freely given, as God hath ordained. And 
 indeed what can be a more honourable maintenance to 
 them than such, whether alms or willing oblations, as 
 these ; which being accounted both alike as given to 
 God, the only acceptable sacrifices now remaining, 
 must needs represent him who receives them much in 
 the care of God, and nearly related to him, when not 
 by worldly force and constraint, but with religious awe 
 and reverence, what is given to God, is given to him ; 
 and what to him, accounted as given to God. This 
 would be well enough, say they ; but how many will 
 so give? I answer, as many, doubtless, as shall be well 
 taught, as many as God shall so move. Why are ye 
 so distrustful, both of your own doctrine and of God's 
 promises, fulfilled in the experience of those disciples 
 first sent.'' Luke xxii. 35, "When I sent you without 
 purse, and scrip, and shoes, lacked ye any thing .'' And 
 they said, Nothing." How then came ours, or who 
 sent them thus destitute, thus poor and empty both of 
 purse and faith ? Who style themselves embassadors of 
 Jesus Christ, and seem to be his tithe-gatherers, though 
 an office of their own setting up to his dishonour, his 
 exacters, his publicans rather, not trusting that he will 
 maintain them in their embassj^, unless they bind him 
 to his promise by a statute-law, that we shall maintain 
 them. Lay down for shame that magnific title, while 
 ye seek maintenance from the people : it is not the man- 
 ner of embassadors to ask maintenance of them to whom 
 they are sent. But he who is Lord of all things, hath 
 
436 
 
 THE LIKELIEST MEANS TO REMOVE 
 
 so onlaiued : trust liini then ; he doubtless will com- 
 mand the people to make good his promises of main- 
 tenance more honourably unasked, unraked for. This 
 they know, this they preach, yet believe not: but think 
 it as impossible, without a statute-law, to live of the 
 gospel, as if by those words they were bid go eat their 
 Bibles, as Ezekiel and John did their books; and such 
 doctrines as these are as hitter to their bellies ; but will 
 serve so much the better to discover hirelings, who can 
 have nothing, though but in appearance, just and solid 
 to answer for themselves against what hath been here 
 spoken, unless perhaps this one remaining pretence, 
 wiiicli we shall quickly see to be either false or unin- 
 gcnuous. 
 
 They pretend that their education, cither at school or 
 university, hath been very chargeable, and therefore 
 ought to be repaired in future by a plentiful mainte- 
 nance : whenas it is well known, that the better half of 
 them, (and ofttimes poor and pitiful boys, of no merit 
 or promising hopes that might entitle them to tlie pub- 
 lic provision, but their poverty and the unjust favour 
 of friends,) have had the most of their breeding, both at 
 school and university, by scholarships, exhibitions, and 
 fellowships at the public cost, which might engage them 
 the rather to give freely, as they have freely received. 
 Or if they have missed of these helps at the latter place, 
 they have after two or three years left the course of 
 their studies there, if they ever well began them, and 
 undertaken, though furnished with little else but igno- 
 rance, boldness, and ambition, if with no worse vices, a 
 chaplainship in some gentleman's house, to the frequent 
 embasing of his sons with illiterate and narrow prin- 
 ciples. Or if they have lived there upon their own, 
 who knows not that seven 3'ears charge of living there, 
 to them who fly not from the government of their pa- 
 rents to the licence of a university, but come seriously 
 to study, is no more than may be well defrayed and 
 reimbursed by one year's revenue of an ordinary good 
 benefice ? If they had then means of breeding from 
 their parents, it is likely they have more now ; and if 
 they have, it needs must be mechanic and uningenuous 
 in them, to bring a bill of charges for the learning of 
 those liberal arts and sciences, which they have learned 
 (if they have indeed learned them, as they seldom have) 
 to their own benefit and accomplishment. But they 
 will say, we had betaken us to some other trade or pro- 
 fession, had we not expected to find a better livelihood 
 by the ministry. This is that which I looked for, to 
 discover them openly neither true lovers of learning, 
 and so very seldom guilty of it, nor true ministers of 
 the gospel. So long ago out of date is that old true 
 saying, 1 Tim. iii. 1, " If a man desire a bishopric, he 
 desires a good work :" for now commonly he who de- 
 sires to be a minister, looks not at the work, but at the 
 wages ; and by that lure or lowbell, may be tolled from 
 parish to parish all the town over. But what can be 
 plainer simony, than thus to be at charges beforehand, 
 to no other end tlian to make their ministry doubly or 
 trebly beneficial ? To whom it might be said, as justly 
 as to that Simon, " Thy money perish with thee, be- 
 cause tho'i hast thought, that the gift of God may be 
 
 purchased with money; thou lia>t mitlicr part nor lot 
 in this matter." Next, it is a fond errour, though too 
 much believed among us, to think that the university 
 makes a minister of the gospel ; what it may conduce 
 to other arts and sciences, I dispute not now : but that 
 which makes fit a minister, the Scripture can best in- 
 form us to be only from above, whence also we are bid 
 to seek them ; Matt. ix. 38, " Pray ye therefore to the 
 Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers 
 into his harvest." Acts xx. 28, " The flock, over which 
 the Holy Ghost hath made you overseers." Rom. x. 
 15, " How shall they preach, unless they be sent?" 
 By whom sent.? by the university, or the magistrate, 
 or their belly ? No surely, but sent from God only, and 
 that God who is not their belly. And whether he be 
 sent from God, or from Simon Magus, the inward sense 
 of his calling and spiritual ability will sufficiently tell 
 him ; and that strong obligation felt within him, which 
 was felt by the apostle, will often express from him the 
 same words : 1 Cor. ix. 16, " Necessity is laid upon 
 me, yea, woe is me if I preach not the gospel." Not 
 a beggarly necessity, and the woe feared otherwise of 
 perpetual want, but such a necessity as made him will- 
 ing to preach the gospel gratis, and to embrace poverty, 
 rather than as a woe to fear it. 1 Cor. xii. 28, " God 
 hath set some in the church, first apostles," &c. Ephes. 
 iv. 11, &c. " He gave some apostles, &c. For the 
 perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, 
 for the edifying of the body of Christ, till we all come 
 to the unity of the faith." Whereby we may know, 
 that as he made them at the first, so he makes them 
 still, and to the worid's end. 2 Cor. iii. 6, " Who hath 
 also made us fit or able ministers of the New Testa- 
 ment." 1 Tim. iv. 14, " The gift that is in thee, which 
 was given thee by prophecy, and the laying on of the 
 hands of the presbytery." These are all the means, 
 which we read of, required in Scripture to the making 
 of a minister. All this is granted, you will say ; but 
 yet that it is also requisite he should be trained in 
 other learning : which can be no where better had than 
 at universities. I answer, that what learning, either 
 human or divine, can be necessary to a minister, may 
 as easily and less chargeably be had in any private 
 house. How deficient else, and to how little purpose, 
 are all those piles of sermons, notes, and comments on 
 all parts of the Bible, bodies and marrows of divinity, 
 besides all other sciences, in our English tongue ; many 
 of the same books which in Latin they read at the uni- 
 versity ? And the small necessity of going thither to 
 loarn divinity T prove first from the most part of them- 
 selves, who seldom continue there till they have well 
 got through logic, their first rudiments; though, to say 
 truth, logic also may much better be wanting in dis- 
 putes of divinity, than in the subtile debates of lawyers, 
 and statesmen, who yet seldom or never deal with syl- 
 logisms. And those theological disputations there held 
 by professors and graduates are such, as tend least of 
 all to the edification or capacity of the people, but 
 rather perplex and leaven pure doctrine with scholas^ 
 lical trash, than enable any minister to the better 
 preaching of the gospel. Whence we may also com- 
 
HIRELINGS OUT OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 437 
 
 pute, since they come to reckoning's, the charges of his 
 needful library; which, though some shame not to 
 vahie at 6001. may be competently furnished for 601. 
 If any man for his own curiosity or delight be in books 
 further expensive, that is not to be reckoned as neces- 
 sary to his ministerial, either breeding or function. 
 But papists and other adversaries cannot be confuted 
 without fathers and councils, immense volumes, and of 
 vast cliarges. I will shew them therefore a shorter and 
 a better way of confutation : Tit. i. 9, " Holding fast 
 the faithfid word, as he hath been taught, that he may 
 be able by sound doctrine, both to exhort and to con- 
 vince gainsayers:" who are confuted as soon as heard, 
 bringing that which is either not in Scripture, or 
 against it. To pursue them further through the ob- 
 scure and entangled wood of antiquity, fathers and 
 councils fighting one against another, is needless, end- 
 less, not requisite in a minister, and refused by the first 
 reformcre of our religion. And yet we may be con- 
 fident, if these things be thought needful, let the state 
 but erect in public good store of libraries, and there 
 will not want men in the church, who of their own in- 
 clinations will become able in this kind against papist 
 or any other adversary. I have thus at large examined 
 the usual pretences of hirelings, coloured over most 
 commonly with the cause of learning and universities; 
 as if with divines learning stood and fell, wherein for 
 the most part their pittance is so small ; and, to speak 
 freely, it were much better there were not one divine 
 in the universities, no school-divinity known, the idle 
 sophistry of monks, the canker of religion ; and that 
 they who intended to be ministers, were trained up in 
 the church only by the Scripture, and iu the original 
 languages thereof at school ; without fetching the 
 compass of other arts and sciences, more than what 
 they can well learn at secondary leisure, and at 
 home. — Neither speak I this in contempt of learning, 
 or the ministry, but hating the common cheats of both ; 
 hating that they, who have preached out bishops, pre- 
 lates, and canonists, should, in what serves their own 
 ends, retain their false opinions, their pharisaical leaven, 
 their avarice, and closely their ambition, their plurali- 
 ties, their nonresidences, their odious fees, and use their 
 legal and popish arguments for tithes : that independ- 
 ents should take that name, as they may justly from 
 the true freedom of christian doctrine and church-disci- 
 pline subject to no superiour judge but God only, and 
 seek to be dependents on tiie magistrates for their 
 maintenance ; which two things, independence and 
 state-hire in religion, can never consist long or cer- 
 tainly together. For magistrates at one time or other, 
 not like these at present our patrons of christian liberty, 
 will pay none but such whom by their committees of 
 examination they find conformable to their interests 
 and opinions : and hirelings will soon frame themselves 
 to that interest, and those opinions which they sec best 
 pleasing to their paymasters ; and to seem right them- 
 selves, will force others as to the truth. But most of all 
 they are to be reviled and shamed, who cry out with 
 the distinct voice of notorious hirelings; that if ye set- 
 tle not our maintenance by law, farewell the gospel ; 
 
 than which nothing can be uttered more false, more 
 ignominious, and I may say, more blasphemous against 
 our Saviour ; who hath promised without this condi- 
 tion, both his Holy Spirit, and his own presence with 
 his church to the world's end : nothing more false, 
 (unless with their own mouths they condemn them- 
 selves for the unworthiest and most mercenary of all 
 other ministers,) by the experience of 300 years after 
 Christ, and the churches at this day in France, Austria, 
 Polonia, and other places, witnessing the contrary 
 under an adverse magistrate, not a favourable ; nothing 
 more ignominious, levelling, or rather undervaluing 
 Christ beneath Mahomet. For if it must be thus, how 
 can any Christian object it to a Turk, that his religion 
 stands by force only ; and not justly fear from him 
 this reply. Yours both by force and money, in the judg- 
 ment of your own preachers? This is that which 
 makes atheists in the land, whom they so much com- 
 plain of: not the want of maintenance, or preachers, 
 as they allege, but the many hirelings and cheaters 
 that have the gospel in their hands; hands that still 
 crave, and are never satisfied. Likely ministers indeed, 
 to proclaim the faith, or to exhort our trust in God, 
 when they themselves will not trust him to provide for 
 them in the message whereon, they say, he sent them ; 
 but threaten, for want of temporal means, to desert it ; 
 calling that want of means, which is nothing else but 
 the want of their own faith : and would force us to pay 
 the hire of building our faith to their covetous incre- 
 dulity. Doubtless, if God only be he who gives minis- 
 ters to his church till the world's end ; and through the 
 whole gospel never sent us for ministers to the schools 
 of philosophy, but rather bids us beware of such " vain 
 deceit," Col. ii. 8, (which the primitive church, after two 
 or three ages not remembering, brought herself quickly 
 to confusion,) if all the faithful be now " a holy and a 
 royal priesthood," 1 Pet. ii. 5,9, not excluded from the 
 dispensation of things holiest, after free election of the 
 church, and imposition of hands, there will not want 
 ministers elected out of all sorts and orders of men, for 
 the gospel makes no difference from the magistrate 
 himself to the meanest artificer, if God evidently favour 
 him with spiritual gifts, as he can easily, and oft hath 
 done, while those bachelor divines and doctors of the 
 tippet have been passed by. Heretofore in the first 
 evangelic times, (and it were happy for Christendom 
 if it were so again,) ministers of the gospel were by 
 nothing else distinguished from other christians, but by 
 their spiritual knowledge and sanctity of life, for which 
 the church elected them to be her teachers and over- 
 seers, though not thereby to separate them from what- 
 ever calling she then found them following besides; as 
 the example of St. Paul declares, and the first times of 
 Christianity. When once they affected to be called a 
 clergy, and became, as it were, a peculiar tribe of Le- 
 vites, a party, a distinct order in the commonwealth, 
 bred up for divines in babbling schools, and fed at the 
 public cost, good for nothing else but what was good 
 for nothing, they soon grew idle : that idleness, with 
 fulness of bread, begat pride and perpetual contention 
 with their feeders the despised laity, through all ages 
 
438 
 
 THE LIKELIEST MEANS TO REMOVE HIRELINGS, &c. 
 
 ever since ; to tlie perverting of religion, and the dis- 
 turbance of all Christendom. And we may confidently 
 conclude, it never will be otherwise while they are 
 thus upheld undepeuding on the church, on which 
 alone they anciently depended, and are by the niatjis- 
 trate publicly maintained a numerous faction of indi- 
 gent persons, crept for the most part out of extreme 
 want and bad nurture, claiming by divine right and 
 freehold the tentli of our estates, to monopolize the 
 ministry as their peculiar, which is free and open to all 
 able Christians, elected by any church. Under this 
 pretence exempt from all other employment, and en- 
 riching themselves on the public, they last of all prove 
 common incendiaries, and exalt their horns against the 
 magistrate himself that maintains them, as the priest of 
 Rome did soon after against his benefactor the emperor, 
 and the presbyters of late in Scotland. Of which hire- 
 ling crew, together with all the mischiefs, dissensions, 
 troubles, wars merely of their kindling, Christendom 
 might soon rid herself .and be happy, if Christians 
 would but know their own dignity, their liberty, their 
 adoption, and let it not be wondered if I say, their 
 spiritual priesthood, whereby they have all equally ac- 
 
 cess to any ministerial function, whenever called by 
 their own abilities, and the church, though they never 
 came near commencement or university. But while 
 protestants, to avoid the due labour of understanding 
 their own religion, are content to lodge it in the breast, 
 or rather in the books, of a clergyman, and to take it 
 thence by scraps and mammocks, as he dispenses it in 
 his Sunday's dole ; they will be always learning and 
 never knowing ; always infants ; always either his 
 vassals, as lay papists are to their priests ; or at odds 
 with him, as reformed principles give them some light 
 to be not wholly conformable ; whence infinite disturb- 
 ances in the state, as they do, must needs follow. Thus 
 much I had to say; and, I suppose, what may be 
 enough to them who are not avariciously bent other- 
 wise, touching the likeliest means to remove hirelings 
 out of the church ; than which nothing can more con- 
 duce to truth, to peace and all happiness both in church 
 and state. If I be not heard nor believed, the event 
 will bear me witness to have spoken truth ; and I, in 
 the mean while, have borne my witness, not out of sea- 
 son, to the church and to my country. 
 
LETTER TO A FRIEND, 
 
 CaKCERMI.Xa 
 
 THE RUPTURES OF THE COMMONWEALTH. 
 
 rCBLIBHIO FROM TUB MANVtCRIPT. 
 
 Sir, 
 Upon the sad and seriuus discourse which we fell into 
 last nig'ht, concerning' these dang-erous ruptures of the 
 Commonwealth, scarce yet in her infancy, which can- 
 not be without some inward flaw in her bowels; I 
 beg-an to consider more intensely thereon than hitherto 
 I have been wont, resigning' myself to the wisdom and 
 care of those who had the government ; and not find- 
 ing that either God or the public required more of me, 
 than my prayers for them that govern. And since you 
 have not only stirred up my thoughts, by acquainting 
 ine with the state of affairs, more inwardly than I 
 knew before ; but also have desired me to set down my 
 opinion thereof, trusting to your ingenuity, I shall 
 give you freely my apprehension, both of our present 
 evils, and what expedients, if God in mercy regard us, 
 may remove them. I will begin with telling you how 
 I was overjoyed, when I heard that the army, under 
 the working of God's Holy Spirit, as I thought, and 
 still hope well, had been so far wrought to christian hu- 
 mility, and self-denial, as to confess in public their 
 backsliding from the good old cause, and to shew the 
 fruits of their repentance, in the righteousness of their 
 restoring the old famous parliament, which they had 
 without just authority dissolved : I call it the famous 
 parliament, though not the harmless, since none well- 
 affected, but will confess, they have deserved much 
 more of these nations, than they have undeserved. 
 And I persuade me, that God was pleased with their 
 restitution, signing it, as he did, with such a signal 
 victory, when so great a part of the nation were des- 
 perately conspired to call back again their ^Egyptian 
 bondage. So much the more it now amazes me, that 
 they, whose lips were yet scarce closed from giving 
 thanks for that great deliverance, should be now re- 
 lapsing, and so soon again backsliding into the same 
 fault, which they confessed so lately and so solemnly 
 to God and the world, and more lately punished in 
 those Cheshire rebels; that they should now dissolve 
 that parliament, which they themselves re-established, 
 and acknowledged for their supreme power in their 
 other day's humble representation : and all this, for no 
 
 apparent cause of public concernment to the church or 
 commonwealth, but only for discommissioning nine 
 great officers in the army ; which had not been done, 
 as is reported, but upon notice of their intentions against 
 the parliament. I presume not to give my censure 
 on this action, not knowing, as yet I do not, the bot- 
 tom of it. I speak only what it appears to us without 
 doors, till better cause be declared, and I am sure to all 
 other nations most illegal and scandalous, I fear me 
 barbarous, or rather scarce to be exampled among any 
 barbarians, that a paid army should, for no other cause, 
 thus subdue the supreme power that set them up. This, 
 I say, other nations will judge to the sad dishonour of 
 that army, lately so renowned for the civilest and best 
 ordered in the world, and by us here at home, for the 
 most conscientious. Certainly, if the great officers and 
 soldiers of the Holland, French, or Venetian forces, 
 should thus sit in council, and write from garrison to 
 garrison against their superiours, they might as easily 
 reduce the king of France, or duke of Venice, and put 
 the United Provinces in like disorder and confusion. 
 Why do they not, being most of them held ignorant of 
 true religion ? because the light of nature, the laws of 
 human society, the reverence of their magistrates, co- 
 venants, engagements, loyalty, allegiance, keeps them 
 in awe. How grievous will it then be ! how infamous 
 to the true religion which we profess ! bow dishonour- 
 able to the name of God, that his fear and the power 
 of his knowledge in an army professing to be his, 
 should not work that obedience, that fidelity to their 
 supreme magistrates, that levied them and paid them ; 
 when the light of nature, the laws of human society, 
 covenants and contracts, yea common shame, works in 
 other armies, amongst the worst of them ! Which will 
 undoubtedly pull down the heavy judgment of God 
 among us, who cannot but avenge these hypocrisies, 
 violations of truth and holiness ; if they be indeed so 
 as they yet seem. For neither do I speak this in re- 
 proach to the army, but as jealous of their honour, in- 
 citing them to manifest and publish with all speed, 
 some better cause of these their late actions, than hatli 
 
440 
 
 LETTER TO A FRIEND, Sec 
 
 hitherto appeared, and to find out the Achan amongst 
 them, whuse close ambition in all likelihood abuses 
 their honest natures against their meaning to these dis- 
 orders ; their readiest way to bring in again the common 
 enemy, and with him the destruction of true religion, 
 and civil liberty. But, because our evils are now 
 grown more dangerous and extreme, than to be reme- 
 died by complaints, it concerns us now to find out what 
 remedies may be likeliest to save us from a])proaching 
 ruin. Being now in anarchy, without a counselling 
 and governing power; and the army, T suppose, find- 
 ing themselves insufficient to discharge at once both 
 military and civil affairs, the first thing to be found 
 out with all speed, without which no commonwealth 
 can subsist, must be a senate or general council of 
 state, in whom must be the power, first to preserve the 
 public peace ; next, the commerce with foreign nations ; 
 and lastly, to raise moneys for the management of 
 these affairs : this must either be the parliament re-ad- 
 mitted to sit, or a council of state allowed of by the 
 army, since they only now have the power. The terms 
 to be stood on are, liberty of conscience to all profess- 
 ing Scripture to be the rule of their faith and worship; 
 and the abjuration of a single person. If the parlia- 
 ment be again thought on, to salve honour on both 
 sides, the well affected part of the city, and the con- 
 g^regated churches, may be induced to mediate by pub- 
 lic addresses, and brotherly beseechings ; which, if 
 there be that saintship among us which is talked of, 
 ought to be of highest and undeniable persuasion to 
 reconcilement. If the parliament be thought well dis- 
 solved, as not complying fully to grant liberty of con- 
 science, and the necessary consequence thereof, the 
 removal of a forced maintenance from ministers, then 
 must the array forthwith choose a council of state, 
 whereof as many to be of the parliament, as are un- 
 doubtedly aflTccted to these two conditions proposed. 
 That which I conceive only able to cement, and unite 
 for ever the army, either to the parliament recalled, or 
 this chosen council, must be a mutual league and oath, 
 private or public, not to desert one another till death : 
 that is to say, that the army be kept up, and all these 
 officers in their places during life, and so likewise the 
 parliament or counsellors of state ; which will be no 
 way unjust, considering their known merits on either 
 side, in council or in field, unless any be found false to 
 any of these two principles, or otherwise personally 
 
 criminous in the judgment of both parties. If such a 
 union as this be not accepted on the army's part, be 
 confident there is a single person underneath. That 
 the army be upheld, the necessity of our affairs and 
 factions will constrain long enough perhaps, to content 
 the longest liver in the army. And whether the civil 
 government be an annual democracy, or a perpetual 
 aristocracy, is not to me a consideration for the extre- 
 mities wherein we are, and the hazard of our safety 
 from our common enemy, gaping at present to devour 
 us. That it be not an oligarchy, or the faction of a 
 few, may be easily prevented by the numbers of their 
 own choosing, who may be found infallibly constant 
 to those two conditions fore-named, full liberty of con- 
 science, and the abjuration of monarchy proposed : and 
 the well-ordered committees of their faithfullest adher- 
 ents in every county, may give this government the 
 resemblance and effects of a perfect democracy. As 
 for the reformation of laws, and the places of judica- 
 ture, whether to be here, as at present, or in every 
 county, as hath been long aimed at, and many such 
 proposals, tending no doubt to public good, they may 
 be considered in due time, when we are past these per- 
 nicious pangs, in a hopeful way of health, and firm 
 constitution. But unless these things, which I have 
 above proposed, one way or other, be once settled, in 
 my fear, which God avert, we instantly ruin ; or a 
 best become the servants of one or other single person, 
 the secret author and fomenter of these disturbances. 
 You have the sum of my present thoughts, as much as 
 I understand of these affairs, freely imparted ; at your 
 request, and the persuasion you wrought in me, that I 
 might chance hereby to be some way serviceable to the 
 Commonwealth, in a time when all ought to be endea- 
 vouring what good they can, whether much or but 
 little. With this you may do what you please, put 
 out, put in, communicate, or suppress : you offend not 
 me, who only have obeyed your opinion, that in doing 
 what I have done, I might happen to ofler something 
 which might be of some use iu this great time of need. 
 However, I have not been wanting to the opportunity 
 which you presented before me, of shewing the readi- 
 ness which I have in the midst of my unfitness, to 
 whatever may be required of me, as a public duty. 
 
 October 20, 1659. 
 
PRESENT MEANS AND BRIEF DELINEATION 
 
 OF 
 
 A FREE COMMONWEALTH, 
 
 EASY TO BE PUT IN PRACTICE, AND WITHOUT DELAY. 
 IN A LETTER TO GENERAL MONK. ' 
 
 rUBLISBED FROM TUE MANVSCRirT. 
 
 First, All endeavours speedily to be used, that the 
 ensuing' election be of such as are already firm, or in- 
 clinable to constitute a free commonwealth, (according 
 to the former qualifications decreed in parliament, and 
 not yet repealed, as I hear,) without single person, or 
 house of lords. If these be not such, but the con- 
 trary, who foresees not, that our liberties will be utterly 
 lost in this next parliament, without some powerful 
 course taken, of speediest prevention.^ The speediest 
 way will be to call up forthwith the chief gentlemen 
 out of every county; to lay before them (as your e.\- 
 celleucy hath already, both in your published letters to 
 the army, and your declaration recited to ihe members 
 of parliament) the danger and confusion of readmitting 
 kingship in this land ; especially against the rules of 
 all prudence and example, in a family once ejected, 
 and thereby not to be trusted with tlie power of re- 
 venge : that you will not longer delay them with vain 
 expectation, but will put intothtnr hands forthwith the 
 possession of a free commonwealtb ; if they will first 
 return immediately and elect them, by such at least of 
 the people as are rightly qualified, a standing council 
 in every city and great town, which may then be dig- 
 nified with the name of city, continually to consult the 
 good and flourishing state of that place, wilii a compe- 
 tent territory adjoined; to assume the judicial laws, 
 either those that are, or such as they themselves shall 
 new make severally, in each commonalty, and all judi- 
 catures, all magistracies, to tlie administration of all 
 justice between man and man, and all the ornaments 
 of public civility, academies, and such like, in their own 
 hands. Matters appertaining to men of several coun- 
 ties or territories, may be determined, as they are here 
 at London, or in some more convenient place, under 
 equal judges. 
 
 Next, That in every such capital place, they will 
 choose them the usual number of ablest knights and 
 burgesses, engaged for a commonwealth, to make up 
 the parliament, or (as it will from henceforth be better 
 called) the Grand or General Council of the Nation : 
 whose office must be, with due caution, to dispose of 
 
 forces, both by sea and land, under the conduct of your 
 excellency, for the preservation of peace, both at home 
 and abroad ; must raise and manage the public revenue, 
 but with provident inspection of their accompts ; must 
 administer all foreign affairs, make all general laws, 
 peace or war, but not witliout assent of the standing 
 council in each city, or such other general assembly as 
 may be called on such occasion, from the whole terri- 
 tory, where they may, without much trouble, deliber- 
 ate on all things fully, and send up their snflrages 
 within a set time, by deputies appointed. Though 
 this grand council be perpetual, (as in that book I 
 proved would be best and most conformable to best 
 examples,) yet they will then, thus limited, have so 
 little matter in their hands, or power to endanger our 
 liberty ; and the people so much in theirs, to prevent 
 them, having all judicial laws in their own choice, and 
 free votes in all those which concern generally the 
 whole commonwealth ; that we shall have little cause 
 to fear the perpetuity of our general senate ; which 
 will be then nothing else but a firm foundation and 
 custody of our public liberty, peace, and union, through 
 the whole commonwealth, and the transactors of our 
 affairs with foreign nations. 
 
 If this yet be not thought enough, the known expe- 
 dient may at length be used, of a partial rotation. 
 
 Lastly, If these gentlemen convocated refuse these 
 fair and noble offers of immediate liberty, and happy 
 condition, no doubt there be enough in every county 
 who will thankfully accept them ; your excellency once 
 more declaring publicly this to be your mind, and hav- 
 ing a faithful veteran army, so ready and glad to assist 
 you in the prosecution thereof. For the full and abso- 
 lute administration of law in every county, which is the 
 difficultest of these proposals, hath been of most long de- 
 sired ; and the not granting it held a general grievance. 
 The rest, when they shall see the beginnings and pro- 
 ceedings of these constitutions proposed, and the orderly, 
 the decent, the civil, the safe, the noble effects thereof, 
 will be soon convinced, and by degrees come in of their 
 own accord, to be partakers of so happy a government. 
 
THE 
 
 READY AND EASY WAY 
 
 TO KITABLUn 
 
 A FREE COMMONWEALTH, 
 
 AND THE EXCELLENCE THEREOF. COMPARED WITH THE INCONVENIENCIES AND DANGERS 
 OF READMITTING KINGSHIP IN THIS NATION. 
 
 [riRCT FVBLItBKD 1660.] 
 
 Et nos 
 
 Consilium deiUmus Syllae, demus populo nunc. 
 
 Although, since the writing of tliis treatise, the face 
 of things bath had some change, writs for new elec- 
 tions hare been recalled, and the members at first 
 chosen re-admittcd from exclusion ; yet not a little re- 
 joicing to hear declared the resolution of those who 
 are in power, tending to the establishment of a free 
 commonwealth, and to remove, if it be possible, this 
 noxious humour of returning to bondage, instilled of 
 late by some deceivers, and nourished from bad princi- 
 ples and false apprehensions among too many of the 
 people ; I thought best not to suppress what I had 
 %vritten, hoping that it may now be of much more use 
 and concernment to be freely published, in the midst 
 of our elections to a free parliament, or their sitting to 
 consider freely of the government ; whom it behoves 
 to have all things represented to them that may direct 
 their judgment therein ; and I never read of any state, 
 scarce of any tyrant, grown so incurable, as to refuse 
 counsel from any in a time of public deliberation, much 
 less to be offended. If their absolute determination be 
 to inthrall ns, before so long a Lent of servitude, they 
 may permit us a little shroving-time first, wherein to 
 speak freely, and take our leaves of liberty. And be- 
 cause in the former edition, through haste, many faults 
 escaped, and many books were suddenly dispersed, ere 
 the note to mend them could be sent, I took the oppor- 
 tunity from this occasion to revise and somewhat to 
 enlarge the whole discourse, especially that part which 
 argues for a perpetual senate. The treatise thus re- 
 vised and enlarged, is as follows. 
 
 The Parliament of England, assisted by a great 
 number of the people who appeared and stuck to them 
 faithfullest in defence of religion and their civil liber- 
 ties, judging kingship by long experience a govern- 
 ment unnecessary, burdensome, and dangerous, justly 
 and magnanimously abolished it, turning regal bond- 
 age into a free commonwealth, to the admiration and ter- 
 rour of our emulous neighbours. They took themselves 
 not bound by the light of nature or religion to any 
 former covenant, from which the king himself, by 
 many forfeitures of a latter date or discovery, and our 
 
 own longer consideration thereon, had more and more 
 unbound us, both to himself and his posterity; as hath 
 been ever the justice and the prudence of all wise na- 
 tions, that have ejected tyranny. They covenanted 
 " to preserve the king's person and authority, in the 
 preservation of the true religion, and our liberties;" 
 not in his endeavouring to bring in upon our consci- 
 ences a popish religion ; upon our liberties, thraldom ; 
 upon our lives, destruction, by his occasioning, if not 
 coraplotting, as was after discovered, the Irish massa- 
 cre ; his fomenting and arming the rebellion ; his 
 covert leaguing with the rebels against us ; his refus- 
 ing, more than seven times, propositions most just and 
 necessary to the true religion and our liberties, tendered 
 him by the parliament both of England and Scotland. 
 They made not their covenant concerning him with no 
 difference between a king and a God; or promised him, 
 as Job did to the Almighty, " to trust in him though 
 he slay us :" they understood that the solemn engage- 
 ment, wherein we all forswore kingship, was no more 
 a breach of the covenant, than the covenant was of the 
 protestation before, but a faithful and prudent going 
 on both in words well weighed, and in the true sense 
 of the covenant " without respect of persons," when we 
 could not serve two contrary masters, God and the 
 king, or the king and that more supreme law, sworn 
 in the fii'st place to maintain our safety and our 
 liberty. They knew the people of England to be 
 a free people, themselves the representers of that 
 freedom ; and although many were excluded, and 
 as many fled (so they protended) from tumults to 
 Oxford, yet they were left a sufficient number to act in 
 parliament, therefore not bound by any statute of pre- 
 ceding parliaments, but by the law of nature only, 
 which is the only law of laws truly and properly to all 
 mankind fundamental ; the beginning and the end of 
 all government; to which no parliament or people that 
 will throughly reform, but may and must have recourse, 
 as they had, and must yet have, in church-reform- 
 ation (if they throughly intend it) to evangelic rules; 
 not to ecclesiastical canons, though never so ancient, 
 
THE READY AND EASY WAY, &c. 
 
 443 
 
 so ratified and established in the land by statutes 
 which for the most part are mere positive laws, neither 
 natural nor moral : and so by any parliament, for just 
 and serious considerations, without scruple to be at any 
 time repealed. If others of their number in these things 
 were under force, they were not, but under free con- 
 7 science; if others were excluded by a power which 
 they could not resist, they were not therefore to leave 
 the helm of government in no hands, to discontinue 
 their care of the public peace and safety, to desert ll)e 
 people in anarchy and confusion, no more than when 
 so many of their members left them, as made up in 
 outward formality a more legal parliament of three 
 estates against them. The bcst-affectcd also, and best- 
 principled of the people, stood not numbering or com- 
 puting, on which side were most voices in parliament, 
 but on which side appeared to them most reason, most 
 safety, when the house divided upon main matters. 
 What was well motioned and advised, they examined 
 not whether fear or persuasion carried it in the vote, 
 neither did they measure votes and counsels by the in- 
 tentions of them that voted ; knowing tiiat intentions 
 cither are but guessed at, or not soon enough known; 
 and although good, can neither make the deed such, 
 nor prevent the consequence from being bad : suppose 
 bad intentions in things otherwise well done ; what 
 was well done, was by them who so thought, not the 
 less obeyed or followed in the state ; since in the church, 
 who bad not rather follow Iscariot or Simon the magi- 
 cian, though to covetous ends, preaching, than Saul, 
 though in the uprightness of his heart persecuting the 
 gospel ? Safer they therefore judged what they thought 
 the better counsels, though carried on by some perhaps 
 to bad ends, than the worse by others, though endea- 
 voured with best intentions : and yet they were not to 
 learn, that a greater number might be corrupt within 
 the walls of a parliament, as well as of a city ; whereof 
 in matters of nearest concernment all men will be 
 judges ; nor easily permit, that the odds of voices in 
 tlieir greatest council shall more endanger them by 
 corrupt or credulous votes, than the odds of enemies 
 by open assaults; judging, that most voices ought not 
 always to prevail, where main matters are in question. 
 If others hence will pretend to disturb all counsels ; 
 what is that to them who pretend not, but are in real 
 danger; not they only so judging, but a great, though 
 not the greatest, number of their chosen patriots, who 
 might be more in weight than the others in numbers : 
 ^^1 there being in number little virtue, but by weight and 
 I measure wisdom working all things, and the dangers 
 ' on either side they seriously thus weighed. From the 
 treaty, short fruits of long labours, and seven years 
 war ; security for twenty years, if we can hold it ; re- 
 formation in the church for three years : then put to 
 shift again with our vanquished master. His justice, 
 his honour, his conscience declared quite contrary to 
 ours ; which would have furnished him with many 
 such evasions, as in a book entitled, " An Inquisition 
 for Blood," soon after were not concealed : bishops not 
 totally removed, but left, as it were, in ambush, a re- 
 Gcrve, with ordination in their sole power ; their lands 
 
 already sold, not to be alienated, but rented, and the 
 sale of them called " sacrilege ; " delinquents, few of 
 many brought to condign punishment ; accessories 
 punished, the chief author, above pardon, though, after 
 utmost resistance, vanquished ; not to give, but to re- 
 ceive, laws; yet besought, treated with, and to be thank- 
 ed for his gracious concessions, to be honoured, wor- 
 shipped, glorified. If this we swore to do, with what 
 righteousness in the sight of God, with what assurance 
 that we bring not by such an oath, the whole sea of 
 blood-guiltiness upon our heads .'' If on the other side 
 we prefer a free government, though for the present not 
 obtained, yet all those suggested fears and difficulties, 
 as the event will prove, easily overcome, we remain 
 finally secure from the exasperated regal power, and 
 out of snares ; shall retain the best part of our liberty, 
 which is our religion, and the civil part will be from 
 these who defer us, much more easily recovered, being 
 neither so subtle nor so awful as a king reinthroncd. 
 Nor were their actions less both at home and abroad, 
 than might become the hopes of a glorious rising com- 
 monwealth : nor were the expressions both of army and 
 people, whether in their public declarations, or several 
 writings, other than such as testified a spirit in this 
 nation, no less noble and well fitted to the liberty of a 
 commonwealth, than in the ancient Greeks or Romans. 
 Nor was the heroic cause unsuccessfully defended to 
 all Christendom, against the tongue of a famous and 
 thought invincible adversary ; nor the constancy and 
 fortitude, that so nobly vindicated our liberty, our 
 victory at once agaitist two the most prevailing usurp- 
 ers over mankind, superstition and tyranny, unpraiscd 
 or uncelebrated in a written monument, likely to out- 
 live detraction, as it hath hitherto convinced or si- 
 lenced not a few of our detractors, especially in parts 
 abroad. After our liberty and religion thus prosper- 
 ously fought for, gained, and many years possessed, 
 except in those unhappy interruptions, which God 
 hath removed ; now that nothing remains, but in all 
 reason the certain hopes of a speedy and immediate 
 settlement for ever in a firm and free commonwealth, 
 for this extolled and magnified nation, regardless 
 both of honour won, or deliverances vouchsafed from 
 heaven, to fall back, or rather to creep back so poorly, 
 as it seems the multitude would, to their once abjured 
 and detested thraldom of kingship, to be ourselves the 
 slanderers of our own just and religious deeds, though 
 done by some to covetous and ambitious ends, yet not 
 therefore to be stained with their infamy, or they to 
 asperse the integrity of others ; and yet these now by 
 revolting from the conscience of deeds well done, both 
 in church and state, to throw away and forsake, or 
 rather to betray, a just and noble cause for the mixture 
 of bad men who have ill-managed and abused it, (which 
 had our fathers done heretofore, and on the same pre- 
 tence deserted true religion, what had long ere this 
 become of our gospel and all protestant reformation so 
 much intermixed with the avarice and ambition of 
 some reformers?) and by thus relapsing, to verify all 
 the bitter predictions of our triumphing enemies, who 
 will now think they wisely discerned and justly cen- 
 
444 
 
 THE READY AND EASY WAY 
 
 sured both lis ami all our actions as rash, rebellious, 
 hypocritical, and impious ; not only arg'ues a stranj^fo, 
 degenerate contag'ion suddenly spread amon;^ us, fitted 
 and prepared for new slavery, but will render us a scorn 
 and derision to all our neig^bbours. And what will 
 they at bestsay of us, and of the whole English name, 
 but scoffingly, as of tliat foolish builder mentioned by 
 our Saviour, who began to build a tower, and was not 
 able to finish it? Where is this goodly tower of a 
 commonwealth, which the English boasted they would 
 build to overshadow kings, and be another Rome in 
 the west ? The foundation indeed they lay gallantly, 
 but fell into a worse confusion, not of tongues, but of 
 factions, than those at the tower of Babel ; and have 
 left no memorial of their work behind them remaining, 
 but in the common laughter of Europe ! Which must 
 needs redound the more to our shame, if we but look 
 on our neighbours the United Provinces, to us inferiour 
 in all outward advantages ; who notwithstanding, in 
 the midst of greater difficulties, courageously, wisely, 
 constantly went through with the same work, and are 
 settled in all the happy enjoyments of a potent and 
 flourishing republic to this day. 
 
 Besides this, if we return to kingship, and soon re- 
 pent, (as undoubtedly we shall, when we begin to find 
 the old encroachments coming on by little and little 
 upon our consciences, which must necessarih' proceed 
 from king and bishop united inseparably in one inter- 
 est,) we may be forced perhaps to fight over again all 
 that we have fought, and spend over again all that we 
 have spent, but are never like to attain thus far as we 
 are now advanced to the recovery of our freedom, 
 never to have it in possession as we now have it, never 
 to be vouchsafed hereafter the like mercies and signal 
 assistances from Heaven in our cause, if by our in- 
 grateful backsliding we make these fruitless; flying 
 now to regal concessions from his divine condescen- 
 sions, and gracious answers to our once importuning 
 prayers against the tyranny which we then groaned 
 under ; making vain and viler than dirt the blood of 
 so many thousand faithful and valiant Englishmen, 
 who left us in this liberty, bought with their lives ; 
 losing by a strange after-game of folly all the battles 
 we have won, together with all Scotland as to our 
 conquest, hereby lost, which never any of our kings 
 could conquer, all the treasure we have spent, not that 
 corruptible treasure only, but that far more precious of 
 all our late miraculous deliverances; treading back 
 again with lost labour all our happy steps in the pro- 
 gress of reformation, and most pitifully depriving our- 
 selves the instant fruition of that free government, 
 which we have so dearly purchased, a free common- 
 wealth, not only held by wisest men in all ages the 
 noblest, the manliest, the equallest, the justest govern- 
 ment, the most agreeable to all due liberty and j)ropor- 
 tioned equality, both human, civil, and christian, most 
 cherishing to virtue and true religion, but also (I may 
 say it with greatest probability) plainly commended, 
 or rather enjoined by our Saviour himself, to all Chris- 
 tians, not without remarkable disallowance, and the 
 brand of Gentilism upon kingship. God in much dis- 
 
 pleasure gave a king to the Israelites, and imputed it 
 a sin to them that they sought one : but Christ aj)- 
 parcntly forbids his disciples to admit of any such 
 heathenish government; "The kings of the Gentiles," 
 saith he, " exercise lordship over them ;" and they that 
 " exercise authority upon them are called benefactors : 
 but ye shall not be so ; but he that is greatest among 
 you, let him be as the younger ; and he that is chief, 
 as he that serveth." The occasion of these his wor(l> 
 was the ambitious desire of Zebedee's two sons, to be 
 exalted above their brethren in his kingdom, which 
 they thought was to be ere long upon earth. That he 
 speaks of civil government, is manifest by the former 
 part of the comparison, which infers the other part to 
 be always in the same kind. And what government 
 comes nearer to this precept of Christ, than a free com- 
 monwealth ; wherein they who are the greatest, are 
 perpetual servants and drudges to the public at their 
 own cost and charges, neglect their own affairs, yet 
 are not elevated above their brethren ; live soberly in 
 their families, walk the street as other men, may be 
 sj)oken to freely, familiarly, friendly, without adora- 
 tion ? Whereas a king must be adored like a demigod, 
 with a dissolute and haughty court about him, of vast 
 expense and luxury, masks and revels, to the de- 
 bauching of our prime gentry both male and female ; 
 not in their pastimes only, but in earnest, by the loose 
 employments of court-service, which will be then 
 thought honourable. There will be a queen of no less 
 charge ; in most likelihood outlandish and a papist, 
 besides a queen-mother such already; together with 
 both their courts and numerous train : then a royal 
 issue, and ere long severally their sumptuous courts ; 
 to the multiplying of a servile crew, not of servants 
 only, but of nobility and gentry, bred up then to 
 the hopes not of public, but of court-offices, to be 
 stewards, chamberlains, ushers, grooms, even of the 
 close-stool ; and the lower their minds debased with 
 court-opinions, contrary to all virtue and reforma- 
 tion, the haughtier will be their pride and profuse- 
 ness. We may well remember this not long since at 
 home ; nor need but look at present into the French 
 court, where enticements and preferments daily draw 
 away and pervert the protestant nobility. As to the 
 burden of expense, to our cost we shall soon know it; 
 for any good to us deserving to be termed no better 
 than the vast and lavish price of our subjection, and 
 their debauchery, which we are now so greedily cheap- 
 ening, and would so fain be paj'ing most inconsider- 
 ately to a single person ; who for any thing wherein 
 the public really needs him, will have little else to do 
 but to bestow the eating and drinking of excessivi 
 dainties, to set a pompous face upon the superficial 
 actings of state, to pageant himself up and down in 
 progress among the perpetual bowings and cringings 
 of an abject people, on either side deifying and adoriiii: 
 him for nothing done that can deserve it. For wha: 
 can he more than another man ? w ho, even in the ex- 
 pression of a late court-poet, sits only like a great cipher 
 set to no purpose before a long row of other significant 
 figures. Nay, it is well and happy for the people, it 
 
TO ESTABLISH A FREE COMMONWEALTH. 
 
 445 
 
 their kins' be but a cipher, being- ofttimes a mischief, a 
 pest, a scourge of the nation, and which is worse, not 
 to be removed, not to be controlled, much less accused 
 or brought to punishment, without the danger of a 
 common ruin, without the shaking and almost sub- 
 version of the whole land : whereas in a free common- 
 wealth, any governor or chief counsellor offending 
 may be removed and punished, without the least com- 
 motion. Certainly then that people must needs be 
 mad, or strangely infatuated, that build the chief hope 
 of their common happiness or safety on a single per- 
 son ; who, if he happen to be good, can do no more 
 than another man ; if to be bad, hath in his hands to 
 do more evil without check, than millions of other men. 
 The happiness of a nation must needs be firmest and 
 certainest in full and free council of their own electing, 
 where no single person, but reason only, sways. And 
 what madness is it for them who might manage nobly 
 their own affairs themselves, sluggishly and weakly 
 to devolve all on a single person ; and more like boys 
 under age than men, to commit all to his patronage 
 and disposal, who neither can perform what he under- 
 takes, and yet for undertaking it, though royally paid, 
 will not be their servant, but their lord ! How unmanly 
 must it needs be, to count such a one the breath of our 
 nostrils, to hang all our felicity on him, all our safety, 
 our well-being, for which if we were aught else but 
 sluggards or babies, we need depend on none but God 
 and our own counsels, our own active virtue and in- 
 dustry ! " Go to the ant, thou sluggard," saith Solo- 
 mon ; " consider her ways, and he wise ; which having 
 no prince, ruler, or lord, provides her meat in the sum- 
 mer, and gathers her food in the harvest :" which evi- 
 dently shews us, that they who th'nk the nation un- 
 done without a king, though they look grave or 
 haughty, have not so much true spirit and understand- 
 ing in them as a pismire : neither are these diligent 
 creatures hence concluded to live in lawless anarchy, 
 or that commended, but are set the examples to impru- 
 dent and ungoverned men, of a frugal and self-govern- 
 ing democracy or commonwealth ; safer and more 
 thriving in the joint providence and counsel of many 
 industrious equals, than under the single domination 
 of one imperious lord. It may be well wondered that 
 any nation, styling themselves free, can suffer any man 
 to pretend hereditary right over them as their lord ; 
 whenas by acknowledging that right, they conclude 
 themselves his servants and his vassals, and so renounce 
 their own freedom. Which how a people and their 
 leaders especially can do, who have fought so glori- 
 ously for liberty ; how they can change their noble 
 words and actions, heretofore so becoming the majesty 
 of a free people, into the base necessity of court-flat- 
 teries and prostrations, is not only strange and ad- 
 mirable, but lamentable to think on. That a nation 
 should be so valorous and courageous to win their 
 liberty in the field, and when they have won it, should 
 be so heartless and unwise in their counsels, as not to 
 know how to use it, value it, what to do with it, or with 
 themselves ; but after ten or twelve years' prosperous 
 \var and contestation with tyranny, basely and besot- 
 
 tedly to run their necks again into the yoke which they 
 have broken, and prostrate all the fruits of their victory 
 for nought at the feet of the vanquished, besides our 
 loss of glory, and such an example as kings or tyrants 
 never yet had the like to boast of, will be an ignominy 
 if it befall us, that never yet befell any nation pos- 
 sessed of their liberty; worthy indeed themselves, 
 whatsoever they be, to be for ever slaves, but that part 
 of the nation which consents not with them, as I per- 
 suade me of a great number, far worthier than by their 
 means to be brought into the same bondage. Con- 
 sidering these things so plain, so rational, I cannot but 
 yet further admire on the other side, how any man, 
 who hath the true principles of justice and religion in 
 him, can presume or take upon him to be a king and 
 lord over his brethren, whom he cannot but know, whe- 
 ther as men or Christians, to be for the most part every 
 way equal or superior to himself: how he can display 
 with such vanity and ostentation his regal splendour, 
 so supereminently above other mortal men ; or being 
 a Christian, can assume such extraordinary honour 
 and worship to himself, while the kingdom of Christ, 
 our common king and lord, is hid to this world, and 
 such Gentilish imitation forbid in express words by 
 himself to all his disciples. All protestants hold that 
 Christ in his church hath left no vicegerent of his 
 power; but himself, without deputy, is the only head 
 thereof, governing it from heaven : how then can any 
 christian man derive his kingship from Christ, but with 
 worse usurpation than the pope his headship over the 
 church, since Christ not only hath not left the least 
 shadow of a command for any such vicegerence from 
 him in the state, as the pope pretends for his in the 
 church, but hath expressly declared, that such regal 
 dominion is from the Gentiles, not from him, and hath 
 strictly charged us not to imitate them therein .' 
 
 I doubt not but all ingenuous and knowing men 
 will easily agree with me, that a free commonwealth 
 without single person or house of lords is by far the 
 best government, if it can be had ; but we have all this 
 while, say they, been expecting it, and cannot yet at- 
 tain it. It is true indeed, when monarchy was dis- 
 solved, the form of a commonwealth should have forth- 
 with been framed, and the practice thereof immedi- 
 ately begun ; that the people might have soon been 
 satisfied and delighted with the decent order, ease, and 
 benefit thereof: we had been then by this time firmly 
 rooted past fear of commotions or mutations, and now 
 flourishing: this care of timely settling a new govern- 
 ment instead of the old, too much neglected, hath been 
 our mischief Yet the cause thereof may be ascribed 
 with most reason to the frequent disturbances, inter- 
 ruptions, and dissolutions, which the parliament hath 
 had, partly from the impatient or disaffected people, 
 partly from some ambitious leaders in the army; much 
 contrary, I believe, to the mind and approbation of the 
 army itself, and their other commanders, once unde- 
 ceived, or in their own power. Now is the opportu- 
 nity, now the very season, wherein we may obtain a 
 free commonwealth, and establish it for ever in the 
 land, without difficulty or much delay. Writs are sent 
 
446 
 
 THE READY AND EASY WAY 
 
 out for elections, and, wliicli is worth observing, in tlic 
 name, not of any kiny, but of the keepers of our 
 liberty, to summon a free parliament; which then 
 only will indeed be free, and deserve the true honour 
 of that supreme title, if they preserve us a free people. 
 Which never parliament was more free to do ; being 
 now called not as heretofore, by the summons of a king, 
 but by the voice of liberty : and if the people, laying 
 aside prejudice and impatience, will seriously and 
 calmly now consider their own good, both religious 
 and civil, their own liberty and the only means thereof, 
 as shall be here laid down before them, and will elect 
 their knights and burgesses able men, and according 
 to the just and necessary qualifications, (which, for 
 aught I hear, remain j-et in force unrepealed, as they 
 were formerly decreed in parliament,) men not ad- 
 dicted to a single person or house of lords, the work is 
 done ; at least the foundation firmly laid of a free com- 
 monwealth, and good part also erected of the main 
 structure. For the ground and basis of every just and 
 free goveniment, (since men have smarted so oft for 
 committing all to one pereon,) is a general council of 
 ablest men, chosen by the people to consult of public 
 affairs from time to time for the common good. In 
 this grand council must the sovereignty, not trans- 
 ferred, but delegated only, and as it were deposited, 
 reside ; with this caution, they must have the forces by 
 sea and land committed to them for preservation of the 
 common peace and liberty ; must raise and manage 
 the public revenue, at least with some inspectors de- 
 puted for satisfaction of the people, how it is employed ; 
 must make or propose, as more expressly shall be said 
 anon, civil laws, treat of commerce, peace, or war with 
 foreign nations, and, for the carrying on some particu- 
 lar affairs with more secrecy and expedition, must 
 elect, as they have already out of their own number 
 and others, a council of state. 
 
 And, although it may seem strange at first hearing, 
 by reason that men's minds are prepossessed with the 
 notion of successive parliaments, I afBrm, that the 
 grand or general council, being well chosen, should be 
 perpetual : for so their business is or may be, and oft- 
 times urgent ; the opportunity of affairs gained or lost 
 in a moment. The day of council cannot be set as 
 the day of a festival ; but must be ready always to pre- 
 vent or answer all occasions. By this continuance 
 they will become every way skilfullest, best provided 
 of intelligence from abroad, best acquainted with the 
 people at home, and the people with them. The ship 
 of the commonwealth is always under sail; they sit at 
 the stern, and if they steer well, what need is there to 
 change them, it being rather dangerous ? Add to 
 this, that the grand council is both foundation and 
 main pillar of the whole state ; and to move pillars 
 and foundations, not faulty, cannot be safe for the 
 building. I see not therefore, how we can be ad- 
 vantaged by successive and transitory parliaments ; 
 but that they are much likelier continually to unsettle 
 rather than to settle a free government, to breed com- 
 motions, changes, novelties, and uncertainties, to bring 
 neglect upon present affairs and opportunities, while • 
 
 all minds are in suspense with expectation of a new 
 assembly, and the assembly for a good space taken up 
 with the new settling of itself. After which, if they 
 find no great work to do, they will make it, by altering 
 or repealing former acts, or making and multiplying 
 new ; that they may seem to see what their predeces- 
 sors saw not, and not to have assembled for nothing: 
 till all law be lost in the multitude of clashing statutes. 
 But if the ambition of such as think themselves in- 
 jured, that they also partake not of the government, 
 and are impatient till they be chosen, cannot brook the 
 perpetuity of others chosen before them ; or if it be 
 feared, that long continuance of power may corrupt 
 sincerest men, the known expedient is, and by some 
 lately propounded, that annually (or if the space be 
 longer, so much perhaps the better) the third part of 
 senators may go out according to the precedence of 
 their election, and the like number be chosen in their 
 places, to prevent their settling of too absolute a power, 
 if it should be perpetual : and this they call " partial 
 rotation." But I could wish, that this wheel or partial 
 wheel in state, if it be possible, might be avoided, as 
 having too much affinity with the wheel of Fortune. 
 For it appears not how this can be done, without dan- 
 ger and mischance of putting out a great number of 
 the best and ablest : in whose stead new elections may 
 bring in as many raw, unexperienced, and otherwise 
 affected, to the weakening and much altering for the 
 worse of public transactions. Neither do I think a 
 perpetual senate, especially chosen or entrusted by the 
 people, much in this land to be feared, where the well- 
 affected, either in a standing army, or in a settled mi- 
 litia, have their arras in their own hands. Safest 
 therefore to me it seems, and of least hazard or inter- 
 ruption to affairs, that none of the grand council be 
 moved, unless by death, or just conviction of some 
 crime: for what can be expected firm or stedfast from 
 a floating foundation ? however, I forejudge not any 
 probable expedient, any temperament that can be 
 found in things of this nature, so disputable on either 
 side. Yet lest this which I affirm be thought my 
 single opinion, I shall add sufficient testimony. King- 
 ship itself is therefore counted the more safe and dur- 
 able because the king, and for the most part his coun- 
 cil, is not changed during life : but a commonwealth 
 is held immortal, and therein firmest, safest, and most 
 above fortune : for the death of a king causeth ofttinies 
 many dangerous alterations; but the death now and 
 then of a senator is not felt, the main body of thcra 
 still continuing permanent in greatest and noblest 
 commonwealths, and as it were eternal. Therefore 
 among the Jews, the supreme council of seventy, called 
 the Sanhedrim, founded by Moses, in Athens that of 
 Areopagus, in Sparta that of the ancients, in Rome the 
 senate, consisted of members chosen for term of life; 
 and by that means remained as it were still the same 
 to generations. In Venice they change indeed oftener 
 than every year some particular council of state, as that 
 of six, or such other : but the true senate, which up- 
 holds and sustains the government, is the whole aris- 
 tocracy immovable. So in the United Provinces, the 
 
TO ESTABLISH A FREE COMMONWEALTH. 
 
 447 
 
 states general, which are indeed but a council of state 
 deputed by the whole union, are not usually the same 
 persons for above three or six years ; but the states of 
 every city, in whom the sovereig'uty hath been placed 
 time out of mind, are a standing senate, without suc- 
 cession, and accounted chiefly in that regard the main 
 prop of their liberty. And why they should be so in 
 every well-ordered commonwealth, they who write of 
 policy give these reasons ; " That to make the senate 
 successive, not only impairs the dignity and lustre of 
 the senate, but weakens the whole commonwealth, and 
 brings it into manifest danger; while by this means 
 the secrets of state are frequently divulged, and matters 
 of greatest consequence committed to inexpert and no- 
 vice counsellors, utterly to seek in the full and inti" 
 mate knowledge of affairs past." I know not therefore 
 what should be peculiar in England, to make successive 
 parliaments thought safest, or convenient here more 
 than in other nations, unless it be the fickleness, which 
 is attributed to us as we are islanders: but good educa- 
 tion and acquisite wisdom ought to correct the tluxible 
 fault, if any such be, of our watery situation. It will 
 be objected, that in those places where they had per- 
 petual senates, they had also popular remedies against 
 their growing too imperious : as in Athens, besides 
 Areopagus, another senate of four or five hundred ; in 
 Sparta, the Ephori ; in Rome, the tribunes of the peo- 
 ple. But the event tells us, that these remedies either 
 little avail the people, or brought them to such a licen- 
 tious and unbridled democracy, as in fine ruined them- 
 selves with their own excessive power. So that the 
 main reason urged why popular assemblies are to be . 
 trusted with the people's liberty, rather than a senate 
 of principal men, because great mer will be still en- 
 deavouring to enlarge their power, but the common 
 sort will be contented to maintain their own liberty, is 
 by experience found false ; none being more immoder- 
 ate and ambitious to amplify their power, than such 
 popularities, which were seen in the people of Rome ; 
 who at first contented to have their tribunes, at length 
 contented with the senate that one consul, then both, 
 soon after, that the censors and praetors also should be 
 t created plebeian, and the whole empire put into their 
 I hands ; adoring lastly those, who most were adverse to 
 the senate, till Marius, by fulfilling their inordinate 
 j desires, quite lost them all the power, for which they 
 bad so long been striving, and left them under the 
 L tyranny of Sylla : the balance therefore must be ex- 
 1* actly so set, as to preserve and keep up due authority 
 i on either side, as well in the senate as in the people. 
 And this annual rotation of a senate to consist of three 
 hundred, as is lately propounded, requires also another 
 popular assembly upward of a thousand, with an an- 
 swerable rotation. Which, besides that it will be 
 liable to all those inconveniences found in the aforesaid 
 remedies, cannot but be troublesome and chargeable, 
 both in their motion and their session, to the whole 
 land, unwieldy with their own bulk, unable in so great 
 a number to mature their consultations as they ought, 
 if any be allotted them, and that they meet not from 
 so many parts remote to sit a whole year lieger in one 
 
 place, only now and then to hold up a forest of fingers, 
 or to convey each man his bean or ballot into the bo.v, 
 without reason shewn or common deliberation ; incon- 
 tinent of secrets, if any be imparted to them ; emulous 
 and always jarring with the other senate. The much 
 better way doubtless will be, in this wavering con- 
 dition of our affairs, to defer the changing or circum- 
 scribing of our senate, more than may be done with 
 ease, till the commonwealth be throughly settled in 
 peace and safety, and they themselves give us the oc- 
 casion. Military men hold it dangerous to change 
 the form of battle in view of an enemy : neither did 
 the people of Rome bandy with their senate, while any 
 of the Tarquins lived, the enemies of their liberty; 
 nor sought by creating tribunes, to defend themselves 
 against the fear of their patricians, till sixteen years 
 after the expulsion of their kings, and in full security 
 of their state, they had or thought they had just cause 
 given them by the senate. Another way will be, 
 to well qualify and refine elections : not committing 
 all to the noise and shouting of a rude multitude, but 
 permitting only those of them who are rightly qualified, 
 to nominate as many as they will ; and out of that 
 number others of a better breeding, to choose a less 
 number more judiciously, till after a third or fourth 
 sifting and refining of exactest choice, they only be 
 left chosen who are the due number, and seem by most 
 voices the worthiest. To make the people fittest to 
 choose, and the chosen fittest to govern, will be to 
 mend our corrupt and faulty education, to teach the 
 people faith, not without virtue, temperance, modesty, 
 sobriety, parsimony, justice; not to admire wealth or 
 honour; to hate turbulence and ambition ; to place 
 every one his private welfare and happiness in the 
 public peace, liberty, and safety. They shall not then 
 need to be much mistrustful of their chosen patriots in 
 the grand council ; who will be then rightly called the 
 true keepers of our liberty, though the most of their 
 business will be in foreign aflTairs. But to prevent all 
 mistrust, the people then will have their several ordinary 
 assemblies (which will henceforth quite annihilate the 
 odious power and name of committees) in the chief 
 towns of every country, without the trouble, charge, or 
 time lost of summoning and assembling from far in so 
 great a number, and so long residing from their own 
 houses, or removing of their families, to do as much at 
 home in their several shires, entire or subdivided, to- 
 ward the securing of their liberty, as a numerous as- 
 sembly of them all formed and convened on purpose 
 with the wariest rotation. Whereof I shall speak more 
 ere the end of this discourse : for it may be referred to 
 time, so we be still going on by degrees to perfection. 
 The people well weighing and performing these things, 
 I suppose would have no cause to fear, though the par- 
 liament abolishing that name, as originally signifying 
 but the parley of our lords and commons with the Nor- 
 man king when he pleased to call them, should, with 
 certain limitations of their power, sit perpetual, if their 
 ends be faithful and for a free commonwealth, under 
 the name of a grand or general council. Till this be 
 done, I am in doubt whether our state will be ever 
 
448 
 
 THE READY AND EASY WAY 
 
 certainly and throughly settled ; never likely till then 
 to see an end of our troubles and continual changes, or 
 at least never the true settlement and assurance of our 
 liberty. The grand council being thus firmly constitut- 
 ed to perpetuity, and still, upon the death or default of 
 any member, supplied and kept in full number, there 
 can be no cause alleged, why peace, justice, plentiful 
 trade, and all prosperity should not thereupon ensue 
 throughout the whole land ; with as much assurance as 
 can be of human things, that the}' shall so continue (if 
 God favour us, and our wilful sins provoke him not) 
 even to the coming of our true and rightful, and only 
 to be expected King, only worthy as he is our only 
 Saviour, the Messiah, the Christ, the only heir of his 
 eternal Father, the only by him anointed and ordained 
 since the work of our redemption finished, univei-sal 
 Lord of all mankind. The way propounded is plain, 
 easy, and open before us; without intricacies, without 
 the introducementof new or absolute forms or terms, or 
 exotic models ; ideas that would eflTect nothing ; but 
 with a number of new injunctions to manacle the na- 
 tive liberty of mankind ; turning all virtue into pre- 
 scription, servitude, and necessity, to the great impair- 
 ing and frustrating of christian liberty. I say again, 
 this way lies free and smooth before us ; is not tangled 
 with inconveniencies ; invents no new incumbrances ; 
 requires no perilous, no injurious alteration or circum- 
 scription of men's lands and properties ; secure, that in 
 this commonwealth, temporal and spiritual lords re- 
 moved, no man or number of men can attain to such 
 wealth or vast possession, as will need the hedge of an 
 agrarian law (never successful, but the cause rather of 
 sedition, save only where it began seasonably with first 
 possession) to confine them from endangering our pub- 
 lic liberty. To conclude, it can have no considerable 
 objection made against it, that it is not practicable ; lest 
 it be said hereafter, that we gave up our liberty for 
 want of a ready way or distinct form proposed of a free 
 commonwealth. And this facility we shall have above 
 our next neighbouring commonwealth, (if we can keep 
 us from the fond conceit of something like a duke of 
 Venice, put lately into many men's heads by some one 
 or other subtly driving on under that notion his own 
 ambitious ends to lurch a crown,) that our liberty shall 
 not he hampered or hovered over by any engagement 
 to such a potent family as the house of Nassau, of whom 
 to stand in perpetual doubt and suspicion, but we shall 
 live the clearest and absolutest free nation in the world. 
 On the contrary, if there be a king, which the in- 
 considerate multitude are now so mad upon, mark how 
 far short we are like to come of all those happinesses, 
 which in a free state we shall immediately be possessed 
 of. First, the grand council, which, as I shewed be- 
 fore, should sit perpetually, (unless their leisure give 
 them now and then some intermissions or vacations, 
 easily manageable by the council of state left sitting,) 
 shall be called, by the king's good will and utmost en- 
 deavour, as seldom as may be. For it is only the king's 
 right, he will say, to call a parliament; and this he 
 w-ill do most commonly about his own affairs rather 
 than the kingdom's, as will appear plainlj' so soon as 
 
 they arc called. For what will their business then be, 
 and the chief expense of their time, but an endless tug- 
 ging between petition of right and royal prerogative, 
 especially about the negative voice, militia, or subsidies, 
 demanded and ofttimes extorted without reasonable 
 cause appearing to the commons, who arc the only true 
 representatives of the people and their liberty, but will 
 be then mingled with a court-faction ; besides which, 
 within their own walls, the sincere part of them who 
 stand faithful to the people will again have to deal with 
 two troublesome counter-working adversaries from 
 without, mere creatures of the king, s|)iritual, and the 
 greater part, as is likeliest, of temporal lords, nothing 
 concerned with the people's liberty. If these prevail not 
 in what they please, though never so much against the 
 people's interest, the parliament shall be soon dissolved, 
 or sit and do nothing; not suffered to remedy the least 
 grievance, or enact aught advantageous to the people. 
 Next, the council of state shall not be chosen by the 
 parliament, but by the king, still his own creatures, 
 courtiers, and favourers ; who will be sure in all their 
 counsels to set their master's grandeur and absolute 
 power, in what they are able, far above the people's 
 liberty. I deny not but that there may be such a king, 
 who may regard the common good before his own, may 
 have no vicious favourite, may hearken only to the 
 wisest and incorruptest of his parliament : but this 
 rarely happens in a monarchy not elective ; and it be- 
 hoves not a wise nation to commit the sum of their 
 well-being, the whole state of their safety to fortune. 
 What need they; and how absurd would it be, whenas 
 they themselves, to whom his chief virtue will be but 
 to hearken, may with much better management and 
 dispatch, with much more commendation of their own 
 worth and magnanimity, govern without a master? 
 Can the folly be parralleled, to adore and be the slaves 
 of a single person, for doing that which it is ten thou- 
 sand to one whether he can or will do, and we without 
 him might do more easily, more effectually, more laud- 
 ably ourselves ? Shall we never grow old enough to 
 be wise, to make seasonable use of gravest authorities, 
 experiences, examples ? Is it such an unspeakable joy 
 to serve, such felicity to wear a yoke ? to clink our 
 shackles, locked on by pretended law of subjection, 
 more intolerable and hopeless to be ever shaken off, 
 than those which are knocked on by illegal injury and 
 violence ? Aristotle our chief instructor in the univer- 
 sities, lest this doctrine be thought sectarian, as the 
 royalist would have it thought, tells us in the third of 
 his Politics, that certain men at first, for the matchless 
 excellence of their virtue above others, or some great 
 public benefit, were created kings by the people, in 
 small cities and territories, and in the scarcity of others 
 to be found like them ; but when they abused their 
 power, and governments grew larger, and the number 
 of prudent men increased, that then the people, soon 
 deposing their tyrants, betook them, in all civilest 
 places, to the form of a free commonwealth. And why 
 should we thus disparage and prejudicatc our own na- 
 tion, as to fear a scarcity of able and w orthy men united 
 in counsel to govern us, if we will but use diligence 
 
 i 
 
TO ESTABLISH A FREE COMMONWEALTH. 
 
 449 
 
 and impartiality, to find them out and choose them, ra- 
 ther yoking- ourselves to a sing-le person, the natural 
 adversary and oppressor of liberty ; though good, yet 
 far easier corruptible by the excess of his single power 
 and exaltation, or at best, not comparably sufficient to 
 bear the weight of government, nor equally disposed to 
 make us happy in the enjoyment of our liberty under 
 him ? 
 
 But admit, that monarchy of itself may be conveni- 
 ent to some nations ; yet to us who have thrown it out, 
 received back again, it cannot but prove pernicious. 
 For kings to come, never forgetting their former ejec- 
 tion, will be sure to fortify and arm themselves suffii- 
 ciently for the future against all such attempts hereafter 
 from the people : who shall be then so narrowly watched 
 and kept so low, that though they would never so fain, 
 and at the same rate of their blood and treasure, they 
 never shall be able to regain what they now have pur- 
 chased and may enjoy, or to free themselves from any 
 yoke imposed upon them : nor will they dare to go 
 about it ; utterly disheartened for the future, if these 
 their highest attempts prove unsuccessful ; which will 
 be tlie triumph of all tyrants hereafter over any people 
 that shall resist oppression ; and their song will then 
 be, to others. How sped the rebellious English ? to our 
 posterity. How sped the rebels your fathers ? This is not 
 my conjecture, but drawn from God's known denounce- 
 ment against the gentilizing Israelites, who, though 
 they were governed in a commonwealth of God's own 
 ordaining, he only their king, they his peculiar people, 
 yet affecting rather to resemble heathen, but pretending 
 the misgovernment of Samuel's sons, no more a reason 
 to dislike their commonwealth, than the violence of 
 Eli's sons was imputable to that priesthood or religion, 
 clamoured for a king. They had their longing, but 
 with this testimony of God's wrath ; " Ye shall cry out 
 in that day, because of your king whom ye shall have 
 chosen, and the Lord will not hear you in that day." 
 Us if he shall hear now, how much less will he hear 
 when we cry hereafter, who once delivered by him from 
 a king, and not without wonderous acts of his provi- 
 dence, insensible and unworthy of those high mercies, 
 are returning precipitantly, if he withhold us not, back 
 to the captivity from whence he freed us ! Yet neither 
 shall we obtain or buy at an easy rate this new gilded 
 yoke, which thus transports us: a new royal revenue 
 must be found, a new episcopal ; for those are indivi- 
 dual : both which being wholly dissipated, or bought 
 by private persons, or assigned for service done, and 
 especially to the army, cannot be recovered without 
 general detriment and confusion to men's estates, or a 
 heavy imposition on all men's purses ; benefit to none 
 but to the worst and ignoblest sort of men, whose hope 
 is to be either the ministere of court riot and excess, or 
 the gainers by it : but not to speak more of losses and 
 extraordinary levies on our estates, what will then be 
 the revenges and offences remembered and returned, 
 not only by the chief person, but by all his adherents; 
 accounts and reparations that will be required, suits, 
 indictments, inquiries, discoveries, complaints, informa- 
 tions, who knows against whom or how many, though 
 
 perhaps neuters, if not to utmost infliction, yet to im- 
 prisonment, fines, banishment, or molestation ? if not 
 these, yet disfavour, discountenance, disregard, and 
 contempt on all but the known royalist, or whom 
 he favours, will be plenteous. Nor let the new royal- 
 ized presbytcrians persuade themselves, that their 
 old doings, though now recanted, will be forgotten ; 
 whatever conditions be contrived or trusted on. Will 
 they not believe this ; nor remember the pacifica- 
 tion, how it was kept to the Scots ; how other so- 
 lemn promises many a time to us .'* Let them but now 
 read the diabolical forerunning libels, the faces, the 
 gestures, that now appear foremost and briskest in all 
 public places, as the harbingers of those, that are in 
 expectation to reign over us; let them but hear the in- 
 solencies, the menaces, the insultings, of our newly ani- 
 mated common enemies crept lately out of their holes, 
 their hell I might say, by the language of their in- 
 fernal pamphlets, the spew of every drunkard, every 
 ribald ; nameless, yet not for want of licence, but for 
 very shame of their own vile persons, not daring to 
 name themselves, while they traduce others by name ; 
 and give us to foresee, that they intend to second their 
 wicked words, if ever they have power, with more 
 wicked deeds. Let our zealous backsliders forethink 
 now with themselves how their necks yoked with these 
 tigers of Bacchus, these new fanatics of not the preach- 
 ing, but the sweating tub, inspired with nothing holier 
 than the venereal pox, can draw one way under mo- 
 narchy to the establishing of church discipline with 
 these new disgorged atheisms : yet shall they not have 
 the honour to yoke with these, but shall be yoked under 
 them ; these shall plough on their backs. And do 
 they among them, who are so forward to bring in the 
 single person, think to be by him trusted or long re- 
 garded ? So trusted they shall be, and so regarded, as 
 by kings are wont reconciled enemies ; neglected, and 
 soon after discarded, if not persecuted for old traitors; 
 the first inciters, beginners, and more than to the third 
 part actors, of all that followed. It will be found also, 
 that there must be then, as necessary as now, (for the 
 contrary part will be still feared,) a standing army ; 
 which fur certain shall not be this, but of the fiercest 
 cavaliers, of no less expense, and perhaps again under 
 Rupert. But let this army be sure they shall be soon 
 disbanded, and likeliest without arrear or pay ; and 
 being disbanded, not be sure but they may as soon be 
 questioned for being in arms against their king : the 
 same let them fear who have contributed money ; 
 which will amount to no small number, that must then 
 take their turn to be made delinquents and compound- 
 ers. They who past reason and recovery are devoted 
 to kingship perhaps will answer, that a greater part by 
 far of the nation will have it so, the rest therefore must 
 yield. Not so much to convince these, which I little 
 hope, as to confirm them who yield not, I reply, that 
 this greatest part have both in reason, and the trial of 
 just battle, lost the right of their election what the go- 
 vernment shall be : of them w ho have not lost that 
 right, whether they for kingship be the greater num- 
 ber, who can certainly determine ? Suppose they be, 
 
450 
 
 THE READY AND EASY WAY 
 
 yet of freedom they partake all alike, one main end of 
 government : which if the greater part value not, but 
 will dcjfenerately forego, is it just or reasonable, that 
 most voices against the main end of government should 
 enslave the less number that would be free ? more just 
 it is, doubtless, if it come to force, that a less number 
 compel a greater to retain, which can be no wrong to 
 them, their liberty, than that a greater number, for the 
 pleasure of their baseness, compel a less most injuri- 
 ously to be their fellow-slaves. They who seek no- 
 thing but their own just liberty, have always right to 
 win it and to keep it, whenever they have jiower, be 
 the voices never so numerous that oppose it. And how 
 much we above others are concerned to defend it from 
 kingship, and from them who in pursuance thereof so 
 perniciously would betray us and themselves to most 
 certain misery and thraldom, will be needless to repeat. 
 
 Having thus far shewn with what ease we may now 
 obtain a free commonwealth, and by it, with as much 
 ease, all the freedom, peace, justice, plenty, that we 
 can desire ; on the other side, the difficulties, troubles, 
 uncertainties, nay rather impossibilities, to enjoy these 
 things constantly under a monarch : I will now pro- 
 ceed to shew more particularly wherein our freedom 
 and flourishing condition will be more ample and se- 
 cure to us under a free commonwealth, than under 
 kingship. 
 
 The whole freedom of man consists either in spirit- 
 ual or civil liberty. As for spiritual, who can be at 
 rest, who can enjoy any thing in this world with con- 
 tentment, who hath not liberty to serve God, and to 
 save his own soul, according to the best light which 
 God hath planted in him to that purpose, by the read- 
 ing of his revealed will, and the guidance of his Holy 
 Spirit ? That this is best pleasing to God, and that 
 the whole protestant church allows no supreme judge 
 or rule in matters of religion, but the Scriptures; and 
 these to be interpreted by the Scriptures themselves, 
 which necessarily infers liberty of conscience ; I have 
 heretofore proved at large in another treatise ; and 
 might yet furtbwr, by the public declarations, confes- 
 sions, and admonitions of whole churches and states, 
 obvious in all histories since the reformation. 
 
 This liberty of conscience, which above all other 
 things ought to be to all men dearest and most pre- 
 cious, no government more inclinable not to favour 
 only, but to protect, than a free commonwealth ; as be- 
 ing most ^ .igTianimous, most fearless, and confident 
 of its own fair proceedings. Whereas kingship, though 
 looking big, yet indeed most pusillanimous, full of 
 fears, full of jealousies, startled at every umbrage, as 
 it hath been observed of old to have ever suspected 
 most and mistrusted them who were in most esteem 
 for virtue and generosity of mind, so it is now known 
 to have most in doubt and suspicion them who are 
 most reputed to be religious. Queen Elizabeth, 
 though herself accounted so good a protestant, so mo- 
 derate, so confident of her subjects' love, would never 
 give way so much as to presbyterian reformation in 
 this land, though once and again besought, as Camden 
 relates, but imprisoned and persecuted the very propo- 
 
 sers thereof; alleging it as her mind and maxim un- 
 alterable, that such reformation would diminish regal 
 authority. What liberty of conscience can we then 
 expect of others, far worse principled from the cradle, 
 trained up and governed by popish and Spanish coun- 
 sels, and on such depending hitherto for subsistence ? 
 Especially what can this last parliament expect, who 
 having revived lately and published the covenant, have 
 re-engaged themselves, never to readmit episcopacy ? 
 Which no son of Charles returning but will most cer- 
 tainly bring back with him, if he regard the last and 
 strictest charge of his father, " to persevere in, not the 
 doctrine only, but government of the church of Eng- 
 land, not to neglect the speedy and effectual sup- 
 pressing of errours and schisms;" among which he ac- 
 counted presbytery one of the chief. Or if, notwith- 
 standing that charge of bis father, be submit to the 
 covenant, how will he keep faith to us, with disobe- 
 dience to him ; or regard that faith given, which must 
 be founded on the breach of that last and solemnest 
 paternal charge, and the reluctance, I may say tlie 
 antipathy, which is in all kings, against presbyterian 
 and independent discipline ? For they hear the gospel 
 speaking much of liberty ; a word which monarchy 
 and her bishops both fear and hate, but a free common- 
 wealth both favours and promotes ; and not the word 
 only, but the thing itself. But let our governors be- 
 ware in time, lest their hard measure to liberty of con- 
 science be found the rock whereon they shipwreck 
 themselves, as others have now done before them in the 
 course wherein God was dii'ecting their steerage to a 
 free commonwealth ; and the abandoning of ail those 
 whom they call sectaries, for the detected falseliood 
 and ambition of some, be a wilful rejection of their 
 own chief strength and interest in the freedom of all 
 protestant religion, under what abusive name soever 
 calumniated. 
 
 The other part of our freedom consists in the civil 
 rights and advancements of every pei-son according to 
 his merit : the enjoyment of those never more certain, 
 and the access to these never more open, than in a free 
 commonwealth. Both which, in my opinion, may be 
 best and soonest obtained, if every country in the land, J 
 were made a kind of subordinate commonalty or com- i 
 monwealth, and one chief town or more, according as 
 the shire is in circuit, made cities, if they be not so 
 called already ; where the nobility and chief gentry, 
 from a proportionable compass of territory annexed to 
 each city, may build houses or palaces befitting their 
 quality, may bear part in the government, make their 
 own judicial laws, or use th'^se that are, and execute 
 them by their own elected juuicatures and judges with- 
 out appeal, in all things of civil government between 
 man and man ; so they shall have justice in their own 
 hands, law executed fully and finally in their own 
 counties and precincts, long wished and spoken of, but 
 never yet obtained ; they shall have none then to blame 
 but themselves, if it be not well administered; and 
 fewer laws to expect or fear from the supreme autho- 
 rity ; or to those that shall be made, of any great con- 
 cernment to public liberty, they may, without much 
 
TO ESTABLISH A FREE COMMONWEALTH. 
 
 451 
 
 trouble in these commonalties, or in more general as- 
 semblies called to their cities from the whole territory 
 on such occasion, declare and publish their assent or 
 dissent by deputies, within a time limited, sent to the 
 grand council; yet so as this their judgment declared 
 shall submit to the greater number of other counties or 
 commonalties, and not avail them to any exemption of 
 themselves, or refusal of agreement with the rest, as it 
 may in any of the United Provinces, being sovereign 
 within itself, ofttimes to the great disadvantage of that 
 union. In these employments they may, much better 
 than they do now, exercise and sit themselves till their 
 lot fall to be chosen into the grand council, according 
 as their worth and merit shall be taken notice of by the 
 people. As for controversies that shall happen between 
 men of several counties, they may repair, as they do 
 now, to the capital city, or any other more commodi- 
 ous, indifferent place, and equal judges. And this I 
 find to have been practised in the old Athenian com- 
 monwealth, reputed the first and ancientest place of 
 civility in all Greece ; that they had in their several 
 cities a peculiar, in Athens a common government; 
 and their right, as it befel them, to the administration 
 of both. They should have here also schools and acade- 
 mies at their own choice, wherein their children may 
 be bred up in their own sight to all learning and noble 
 education ; not in grammar only, but in all liberal arts 
 and exercises. This would soon spread much more 
 knowledge and civility, yea, religion, through all parts 
 of the land, by communicating the natural heat of 
 government and culture more distributively to all ex- 
 treme parts, which now lie numb and neglected, would 
 soon make the whole nation more industrious, more in- 
 genious at home ; more potent, more honourable abroad. 
 To this a free commonwealth will easily assent; (nay, 
 the parliament hath had already some such thing in 
 design ;) for of all governments a commonwealth aims 
 most to make the people flourishing, virtuous, noble, 
 and high-spirited. Monarchs will never permit ; whose 
 aim is to make the people wealthy indeed perhaps, and 
 well fleeced, for their own shearing, and the supply of 
 regal prodigality ; but otherwise softest, basest, vicious- 
 est, servilest, easiest to be kept under : and not only in 
 fleece, but in mind also sheepishest; and will have all 
 the benches of judicature annexed to the throne, as a 
 gift of royal grace, that we have justice done us; 
 whenas nothing can be more essential to the freedom 
 of a people, than to have the administration of justice, 
 and all public ornaments, in their own election, and 
 within their own bounds, without long travelling or 
 depending upon remote places to obtain their right, or 
 any civil accomplishment ; so it be not supreme, but 
 subordinate to the general power and union of the 
 whole republic. In which happy firmness, as in the 
 particular above-mentioned, we shall also far exceed 
 the United Provinces, by having, not as they, (to the 
 retarding and distracting ofttimes of their counsels or 
 ur^fcntest occasions,) many sovereignties united in one 
 commonwealth, but many commonwealths under one 
 united and intrusted sovereignty. And when we have 
 our forces by sea and land, either of a faithful army, 
 2 G 
 
 or a settled militia, in our own hands, to the firm esta- 
 blishing of a free commonwealth, public accounts under 
 our own inspection, general laws and taxes, with their 
 causes in our own domestic suffrages, judicial laws, 
 offices, and ornaments at home in our own ordering 
 and administration, all distinction of lords and com- 
 moners, that may any way divide or sever the public 
 interest, removed ; what can a perpetual senate have 
 then, wherein to grow corrupt, wherein to encroach 
 upon us, or usurp ? or if they do, wherein to be formi- 
 dable .'* Yet if all this avail not to remove the fear or 
 envy of a perpetual sitting, it may be easily provided, 
 to change a third part of them yearly, or every two or 
 three years, as was above-mentioned ; or that it be at 
 those times in the people's choice, whether they will 
 change them, or renew their power, as they shall find 
 cause. 
 
 I have no more to say at present : few words will 
 save us, well considered ; few and easy things, now 
 seasonably done. But if the people be so affected as 
 to prostitute religion and liberty to the vain and ground- 
 less apprehension, that nothing but kingship can re- 
 store trade, not remembering the frequent plagues and 
 pestilences that then wasted this city, such as through 
 God's mercy we never have felt since ; and that trade 
 flourishes no where more than in the free common- 
 wealths of Italy, Germany, and the Low Countries, be- 
 fore their eyes at this day ; yet if trade be grown so 
 craving and importunate through the profuse living of 
 tradesmen, that nothing can support it but the luxuri- 
 ous expenses of a nation upon trifles or superfluities; 
 so as if the people generally should betake themselves 
 to frugality, it might prove a dangerous matter, lest 
 tradesmen should mutiny for want of trading; and that 
 therefore we must forego and set to sale religion, 
 liberty, honour, safety, all concernments divine or hu- 
 man, to keep up trading : if, lastly, after all this light 
 among us, the same reason shall pass for current, to 
 put our necks again under kingship, as was made use 
 of by the Jews to return back to Egypt, and to the 
 worship of their idol queen, becj»-'se they falsely 
 imagined that they then lived in more plenty and pros- 
 perity ; our condition is not sound but rotten, both in 
 religion and all civil prudence ; and will bring us soon, 
 the way we are marching, to those calamities, which 
 attend always and unavoidably on luxury, all national 
 judgments under foreign and domestic slavery: so far 
 we shall be from mending our conditioi thy monarch- 
 ising our government, whatever new conceit now pos- 
 sesses us. However, with all hazard I have ventured 
 what I thought my duty to speak in season, and to 
 forewarn my country in time ; wherein I doubt not but 
 there be many wise men in all places and degrees, but 
 am sorry the effects of wisdom are so little seen among 
 us. Many circumstances and particulars I could have 
 added in those things whereof I have spoken : but a 
 few main matters now put speedily in execution, will 
 suffice to recover us, and set all right : and there will 
 want at no time who are good at circumstances ; but 
 men who set their minds on main matters, and suf- 
 ficiently urge them, in these most difficult times I find 
 
452 
 
 THE READY AND EASY WAY, &c. 
 
 not manj. What I have spoken, is the language of 
 that which is not called amiss " The good old Cause:" 
 if it seera strange to any, it will not seem more strange, 
 I hope, than convincing to backsliders. Thus much I 
 should perhaps have said, though I were sure I should 
 have spoken only to trees and stones ; and had none to 
 cry to, but with the prophet, '♦ O earth, earth, earth !" 
 to tell the very soil itself, what her perverse inhabit- 
 ants are deaf to. Nay, though what I have spoke 
 should happen (which thou suffer not, who didst create 
 mankind free! nor thou next, who didst redeem us 
 from being servants of men !) to be the last words of 
 our expiring liberty. But I trust I shall have spoken 
 persuasion to abundance of sensible and ingenuous 
 
 men ; to some perhaps, whom God may raise to these 
 stones to become children of reviving liberty; and may 
 reclaim, though they seem now choosing them a cap- 
 tain back for Egypt, to bethink themselves a little, and 
 consider whither they are rushing ; to exhort this tor- 
 rent also of the people, not to be so impetuous, but to 
 keep their due channel ; and at length recovering and 
 uniting their better resolutions, now that they see 
 already how open and unbounded the insolence and 
 rage is of our common enemies, to stay these ruinous 
 proceedings, justly and timely fearing to what a pre- 
 cipice of destruction the deluge of this epidemic mad- 
 ness would hurry us, through the general defection of 
 a misguided and abused multitude. 
 
BRIEF NOTES UPON 
 
 A LATE SERMON, 
 
 THE FEAR OF GOD AND THE KING; 
 
 rRXACHCD AND SINCI FCBLISHKD 
 
 BY MATTHEW GRIFFITH, D. D. 
 
 AMD CHAPLAIN TO TBB LATE KINO. 
 
 WHEREIN MANY NOTORIOUS WRESTINGS OF SCRIPTURE, AND OTHER FALSITIES, ARE OBSERVED. 
 
 [rimn rvBLitais IMO.] 
 
 I AFFIRMED in the preface of a late discourse, intitled, 
 " The ready Way to establish a Free Commonwealth, 
 and the Dangers of re-admitting Kingship in this Na- 
 tion," that the humour of returning to our old bondage 
 was instilled of late by some deceivers ; and to make 
 good, that what I then affirmed was not without just 
 ground, one of those deceivers I present here to the 
 people : and if I prove him not such, refuse not to be 
 so accounted in his stead. 
 
 He begins in his epistle to the General,* and moves 
 cunningly for a licence to be admitted physician both 
 to church and state ; then sets out his practice in phy- 
 sical terms, " a wholesome electuary to be taken every 
 morning next our hearts ;" tells of the opposition which 
 he met with from the college of state physicians, then 
 lays before you his drugs and ingredients ; " Strong 
 purgatives in the pulpit, contempered of the myrrh of 
 mortification, the aloes of confession and contrition, the 
 rhubarb of restitution and satisfaction ;" a pretty fan- 
 tastic dose of divinity from a pulpit mountebank, not 
 unlike the fo.v, that turning pedlar opened his pack of 
 ware before the kid ; though he now would seem, " to 
 personate the good Samaritan," undertaking to " de- 
 scribe- the rise and progress of our national malady, 
 and to prescribe the only remedy ;" which how he per- 
 forms, we shall quickly see. 
 
 First, he would suborn St. Luke as his spokesman 
 to the General, presuming, it seems, " to have had as 
 perfect understanding of things from the very first," as 
 the evangelist had of his gospel; that the General, who 
 hath so eminently born his part in the whole action, 
 *' might know the certainty of those things" better 
 from him a partial sequestered enemy ; for so he pre- 
 sently appears, though covertly, and like the tempter, 
 • Mook. 
 
 commencing his address with an impudent calumny 
 and affront to his excellence, that he would be pleased 
 "to carry on what he had so happily begun in the 
 name and cause" not of God only, which we doubt not, 
 but " of his anointed," meaning the late king's son ; to 
 charge him most audaciously and falsely with the re- 
 nouncing of his own public promises and declarations, 
 both to the parliament and the army, and we trust his 
 actions ere long will deter such insinuating slanderers 
 from thus approaching him for the future. But the 
 General may well excuse him ; for the Comforter him- 
 self scapes not his presumption, avouched as falsely, 
 to have empowered to those designs " him and him 
 only," who hath solemnly declared the contrary. What 
 fanatic, against whom he so often inveighs, could 
 more presumptuously affirm whom the Comforter hath 
 empowered, than this anti-fanatic, as he would be 
 thought ? 
 
 THE TEXT. 
 
 Prov. xxiv. 21, My son, fear God and the king, and 
 meddle not with them that be seditious, or desirous 
 of chanye, &c. 
 
 Letting pass matters not in controversy, I come to 
 the main drift of your sermon, the king; which word 
 here is either to signify any supreme magistrate, or else 
 your latter object of fear is not universal, belongs not 
 at all to many parts of Christendom, that have no king ; 
 and in particular not to us. That we have no king 
 since the putting down of kingship in this common- 
 wealth, is manifest by this last parliament, who, to the 
 time of their dissolving, not only made no address at 
 all to any king, but summoned this next to come by 
 
454 
 
 BRIEF NOTES ON DR. GRIFFITH'S SERMON. 
 
 the writ formerly appointed of a free commonwealth, 
 without restitution or the least mention of any king^ly 
 right or power; which could not be, if there were 
 at present any king of England. The main part there- 
 fore of your sermon, if it mean a king in the usual 
 sense, is either impertinent and absurd, exhorting your 
 auditory to fear that which is not ; or if king here be, 
 as it is understood, for any supreme magistrate, by 
 your own exhortation they are in the first place not to 
 meddle with you, as being yourself most of all the se- 
 ditious meant here, and the " desirous of change," in 
 stirring them up to " fear a king," whom the present 
 government takes no notice of. 
 
 You begin with a vain vision, " God and the king at 
 the first blush" (which will not be your last blush) 
 " seeming to stand in your text like those two cheru- 
 bims on the mercy-seat, looking on each other." By 
 this similitude, your conceited sanctuary, worse than 
 the altar of Ahaz, patterned from Damascus, degrades 
 God to a cherub, and raises your king to be his colla- 
 teral in place, notwithstanding the other differences you 
 put ; which well agrees with the court-letters, lately 
 published, from this lord to the other lord, that cry him 
 up for no less than angelical and celestial. 
 
 Your first observation, page 8, is, " That God and 
 the king are coupled in the text, and what the Holy 
 Ghost hath thus firmly combined, we may not, we must 
 not dare to put asunder;" and yourself is the first man 
 who puts them asunder by the first proof of your doc- 
 trine immediately following, Judg. vii. 20, which 
 couples the sword of the Lord and Gideon, a man who 
 not only was no king, but refused to be a king or 
 monarch, when it was offered him, in the very next 
 chapter, ver. 22, 23, " I will not rule over you, neither 
 shall my son rule over you ; the Lord shall rule over 
 you." Here we see, that this worthy heroic deliverer of 
 his country thought it best governed, if the Lord go- 
 verned it in that form of a free commonwealth, which 
 they then enjoyed, without a single person. And thus 
 is your first scripture abused, and most impertinently 
 cited, nay, against yourself, to prove, that " kings at 
 their coronation have a sword given them," which you 
 interpret " the militia, the power of life and death put 
 into their hands," against the declared judgment of 
 our parliaments, nay, of all our laws, which reserve to 
 themselves only the power of life and death, and render 
 you in their just resentment of this boldness another 
 Dr. Manwaring. 
 
 Your next proof is as false and frivolous, " The king," 
 say you, " is God's sword-bearer;" true, but not the 
 king only: for Gideon, by whom you seek to prove 
 this, neither was nor would be a king ; and as you 
 yourself confess, page 40, " There be divers forms of 
 government." " He bears not the sword in vain," 
 Rom. xiii. 4 : This also is as true of any lawful rulers, 
 especially supreme; so that " Rulers," ver. 3, and there- 
 fore this present government, without whose authority 
 you excite the people to a king, bear the sword as well 
 as kings, and as little in vain. " They fight against 
 God, who resist his ordinance, and go about to wrest 
 the sword out of the hands of his anointed." This is 
 
 likewise granted : but who is his anointed ? Not every 
 king, but they only who were anointed or made kings 
 by his special command ; as Saul, David, and his race, 
 which ended in the Messiah, (from whom no kings at 
 this day can derive their title,) Jehu, Cyrus, and if any 
 other were by name appointed by him to some parti- 
 cular service : as for the rest of kings, all other su- 
 preme magistrates are as much the Lord's anointed as 
 they; and our obedience commanded equally to them 
 all ; " for there is no power but of God," Rom. xiii. 1 : 
 and we are exhorted in the gospel to obey kings, as 
 other magistrates, not that they are called any where 
 the Lord's anointed, but as they are the " Ordinance of 
 man," 1 Pet. ii. 13. You therefore and other such 
 false doctors, preaching kings to your auditory, as the 
 Lord's only anointed, to withdraw people from the pre- 
 sent government, by your own text are self-condemned, 
 and not to be followed, not to be " meddled with," but 
 to be noted, as most of all others the " seditious and 
 desirous of change." 
 
 Your third proof is no less against yourself. Psal. cv. 
 15, " Touch not mine anointed." For this is not spoken 
 in behalf of kings, but spoken to reprove kings, that 
 they should not touch his anointed saints and servants, 
 the see;] of Abraham, as the verse next before might 
 have taught you : he reproved kings for their sakes, 
 saying, " Touch not mine anointed, and do my pro- 
 phets no harm ;" according to that, 2 Cor. i. 21, " He 
 who hath anointed us, is God." But how well you 
 confirm one wrested scripture with another! 1 Sam- 
 viii. 7, " They have not rejected thee, but me :" grossly 
 misapplying these words, which were not spoken to 
 any who had " resisted or rejected" a king, but to them 
 who much against the will of God had sought a king, 
 and rejected a commonwealth, wherein they might have 
 lived happily under the reign of God only, their king. 
 Let the words interpret themselves ; ver. 6, 7, " But 
 the thing displeased Samuel, when they said. Give u4 
 a king to judge us: and Samuel prayed unto the Lordi 
 And the Lord said unto Samuel, Hearken unto the voice 
 of the people in all that they say unto thee ; for they 
 have not rejected thee, but they have rejected me, tha( 
 I should not reign over them." Hence you conclude, 
 "so indissoluble is the conjunction of God and th« 
 king." O notorious abuse of Scripture! whenas yot 
 should have concluded, so unwilling was God to giv€ 
 them a king, so wide was the disjunction of God from 
 a king. Is this the doctrine you boast of, to be " so 
 clear in itself, and like a mathematical principle, that 
 needs no farther demonstration ?" Bad logic, bad ma- 
 thematics, (for principles can have no demonstratioi 
 at all,) but worse divinity. O people of an implicit 
 faith, no better than Romish, if these be thy prime 
 teachers, who to their credulous audience dare thus 
 juggle with Scripture, to allege those places for the proof 
 of their doctrine, which are the plain refutation : and this 
 is all the Scripture which he brings to confirm his point. 
 
 The rest of his preachment is mere groundless chat,^ 
 save here and there a few grains of corn scattered to 
 entice the silly fowl into his net, interlaced here and 
 there with some human reading, though slight, and not 
 
 #; 
 
BRIEF NOTES ON DR. GRIFFITH'S SERMON. 
 
 466 
 
 without geographical and historical mistakes : as page 
 29, Suevia the German duketlom, for Suecia the Nor- 
 thern kingdom : Philip of Macedon, who is generally 
 understood of the great Alexander's father only, made 
 contemporary, page 31, with T. Quintus the Roman 
 commander, instead of T. Quintius, and the latter 
 Philip : and page 44, Tully cited " in his third oration 
 against Verres," to say of him, " that he was a wicked 
 consul," who never was a consul: nor " Trojan se- 
 dition ever portrayed " by that verse of Virgil, wliich 
 you cite page 47, as that of Troy : schoolboys could 
 have told you, that there is nothing of Troy in that 
 whole portraiture, as you call it, of Sedition. These 
 gross mistakes may justly bring in doubt your other 
 loose citations, and that you take them up somewhere 
 at the second or third hand rashly, and without due 
 considering. 
 
 Nor are you happier in the relating or the moraliz- 
 ing your fable, " The frogs" (being once a free na- 
 tion, saith the fable) " petitioned Jupiter for a king : 
 he tumbled among them a log: they found it insen- 
 sible ; they petitioned then for a king that should be 
 active : he sent them a crane " (a Stork, saith the fa- 
 ble) " which straight fell to pecking them up." This 
 you apply to the reproof of them who desire change : 
 whereas indeed the true moral shews rather the folly 
 of those who being free seek a king; which for the 
 most part either as a log lies heavy on his subjects, 
 without doing aught worthy of his dignity and the 
 charge to maintain him, or as a stork, is ever pecking 
 them up, and devouring them. 
 
 But " by our fundamental laws, the king is the high- 
 est power," page 40. If we must hear mooting and 
 law lectures from the pulpit, what shame is it for a 
 doctor of divinity not first to consider, that no law can 
 be fundamental, but that which is grounded on the 
 light of nature or right reason, commonly called moral 
 Law : which no form of government was ever counted, 
 but arbitrary, and at all times in the choice of every 
 free people, or their representers. Tiiis choice of go- 
 vernment is so essential to their freedom, that longer 
 than they have it, they are not free. In this land not 
 only the late king and his posterity, but kingship itself, 
 hath been abrogated by a law ; which involves with as 
 good reason the posterity of a king forfeited to the 
 people, as that law heretofore of treason against the 
 king, attainted the children with the father. This law 
 against both king and kingship they who most ques- 
 tion, do not less question all enacted without the king 
 and his antiparliament at Oxford, though called mon- 
 grel by himself. If no law must be held good, but 
 what passes in full parliament, then surely in exact- 
 ness of legality no member must be missing : for look 
 how many are missing, so many counties or cities that 
 sent them want their representers. But if, being once 
 chosen, they serve for the whole nation, then any num- 
 ber, which is sufficient, is full, and most of all in times 
 of discord, necessity, and danger. The king himself 
 was bound by the old mode of parliaments, not to be 
 absent, but in case of sickness, or some extraordinary 
 occasion, and then to leave his substitute ; much less 
 
 might any member be allowed to absent himself. If 
 the king then and many of the members with him, 
 without leaving any in his stead, foi-sook the parlia- 
 ment upon a mere panic fear, as was that time judged 
 by most men, and to levy war against them that sat, 
 should they who were left sitting, break up, or not dare 
 enact aught of nearest and presentest concernment to 
 public safety, for the punctilio wanting of a full num- 
 ber, which no law-book in such extraordinary cases hath 
 determined .'' Certainly if it were lawful for them to 
 fly from their charge upon pretence of private safety, 
 it was much more lawful for these to set and act in 
 their trust what was necessary for the public. By a 
 law therefore of parliament, and of a parliament that 
 conquered both Ireland, Scotland, and all their ene- 
 mies in England, defended their friends, were gene- 
 rally acknowledged for a parliament both at home and 
 abroad, kingship was abolished : this law now of late 
 hath been negatively repealed; yet kingship not posi- 
 tively restored, and I suppose never was established by 
 any certain law in this land, nor possibly could be : for 
 how could our forefathers bind us to any certain form of 
 government, more than we can bind our posterity ? If 
 a people be put to war with their king for his misgo- 
 vcmment, and overcome him, the power is then un- 
 doubtedly in their own hands how they will be governed. 
 The war was granted just by the king himself at tiic 
 beginning of his last treaty, and still maintained to be 
 so by this last parliament, as appears by the qualifica- 
 tion prescribed to the membei-s of this next ensuing, 
 that none shall be elected, who have borne arms against 
 the parliament since 1641. If the war were just, the 
 conquest was also just by the law of nations. And he 
 who was the chief enemy, in all right ceased to be the 
 king, especially after captivity, by the deciding ver- 
 dict of war; and royalty with all her laws and preten- 
 sions yet remains in the victor's power, together with 
 the choice of our future government. Free common- 
 wealths have been ever counted fittest and properest 
 for civil, virtuous, and industrious, nations, abounding 
 with prudent men worthy to govern ; monarchy fittest 
 to curb degenerate, corrupt, idle, proud, luxurious 
 people. If we desire to be of the former, nothing better 
 for us, nothing nobler than a free commonwealth : if 
 we will needs condemn ourselves to be of the latter, de- 
 spairing of our own virtue, industry, and the number 
 of our able men, we may then, conscious of our own 
 unworthiness to be governed better, sadly betake us to 
 our befitting thraldom : yet choosing out of our num- 
 ber one who hath best aided the people, and best merit- 
 ed against tyranny, the space of a reign or two we may 
 chance to live happily enough, or tolerably. But that 
 a victorious people should give up themselves again to 
 the vanquished, was never yet heard of, seems rather 
 void of all reason and good policy, and will in all pro- 
 bability subject the subduers to the subdued, will ex- 
 pose to revenge, to beggary, to ruin, and perpetual 
 bondage, the victors under the vanquished : than which 
 what can be more unworthy ? 
 
 From misinterpreting our law, you return to do again 
 the same with Scripture, and would prove the su- 
 
456 
 
 BRIEF NOTES ON DR. GRIFFITH'S SERMON. 
 
 premary of English kiiigfs from I Pet. ii. 13, as if that 
 were the apostle's work : wherein if he saith that " the 
 king is supreme," he speaks so of him hut as an " ordi- 
 nance of man," and in respect of those " governors that 
 are sent by him," not in respect of parliaments, which 
 by the law of this land are his bridle; in vain his 
 bridle, if not also his rider : and therefore hath not 
 only co-ordination with him, which you falsely call 
 seditious, but hath superiority above him, and that 
 neither " against religion," nor " right reason :" no nor 
 against common law ; for our kings reigned only by 
 law. But the parliament is above all positive law, 
 whether civil or common, makes or unmakes them 
 both ; and still the latter parliament above the former, 
 above all the former lawgivers, then certainly above 
 all precedent laws, entailed the crown on whom it 
 pleased; and as a great lawyer saith, " is so transcend- 
 ent and absolute, that it cannot be con6ned either for 
 causes or persons, within any bounds." But your cry 
 is, no parliament without a king. If this be so, we 
 Lave never had lawful kings, who have all been created 
 kings either by such parliaments, or by conquest : if 
 by such parliaments, they are in your allowance none; 
 if by conquest, that conquest we have now conquered. 
 So that as well by your own assertion as by ours, there 
 can at present be no king. And how could that person 
 be absolutely supreme, who reigned, not under law 
 only, but under oath of his good demeanour, given to 
 the people at his coronation, ere the people gave him 
 his crown .•* and his principal oath was to maintain 
 those laws, which the people should choose. If then 
 the law itself, much more he who was but the keeper 
 and minister of law, was in their choice, and both he 
 subordinate to the performance of his duty sworn, and 
 our sworn allegiance in order only to his performance. | 
 
 You fall next on the consistorian schismatics ; fur so 
 you call Presbyterians, page 40, and judge them to have 
 " enervated the king's supremacy by their opinions 
 and practice, differing in many things only in terms 
 from popery ;" though some of those principles, which 
 you there cite concerning kingship, are to be read in 
 Aristotle's Politics, long ere popery was thought 
 on. The presbyterians therefore it concerns to be 
 well forewarned of you betimes ; and to them I leave 
 you. 
 
 As for your examples of seditious men, page 54, <Scc. 
 Cora, Absalom, Zimri, Sheba, to these you might with 
 much more reason have added your own name, who 
 " bio w the trumpet of sedition " from your pulpit against 
 the present government : in reward whereof they have 
 sent you by this time, as I hear, to your " own place," 
 for preaching open sedition, while you would seem to 
 preach against it. 
 
 As for your Appendix annexed of the " Samaritan 
 revived," finding it so foul a libel against all the well 
 afTected of this land, since the very time of ship-money, 
 against the whole parliament, both lords and commons, 
 except those that fled to Oxford, against the whole re- 
 formed church, not only in England and Scotland, but 
 all over Europe, (in comparison whereof you and your 
 prelatical party are more truly schismatics and secta- 
 rians, nay, more properly fanatics in your fanes and 
 gilded temples, than those whom you revile by those 
 names,) and meeting with no more Scripture or solid 
 reason in your " Samaritan wine and oil," than hath 
 already been found sophisticated and adulterate, T 
 leave your malignant narrative, as needing no other 
 confutation, than the just censure already passed upon 
 you by the council of state. 
 
ACCEDENCE 
 
 COMMENCED GRAMMAR, 
 
 SUPPLIED WITH 
 
 SUFFICIENT RULES 
 
 FOB THE D8E OF SDCH AS, YOUNGER OB BLOBB, ABB DESIROUS, WITHOUT MOBB TBODBLB THAN NEEDS, TO ATTAIN THE LATIN 
 TONGUE; THE ELDEB 80BT ESPECIALLY, WITH LITTLE TEACHING, AND THBIB OWN INDUSTBY. 
 
 [FIKII PnBLHBXO 16G9.] 
 
 TO THE READER. 
 
 It hath been long' a general complaint, not without cause, in the bringing up of youth, and still is, that the 
 tenth part of man's life, ordinarily extended, is taken up in learning, and that very scarcely, the Latin Tongue. 
 Which tardy proficience may be attributed to several causes: in particular, the making two labours of one, by 
 learning first tlie Accedence, then the Grammar in Latin, ere the language of those rules be understood. The 
 only remedy of this was to join both books into one, and in the English Tongue; whereby the long way is 
 much abbreviated, and the labour of understanding much more easy: a work supposed not to have been done 
 formerly ; or if done, not without such difference here in brevity and alteration, as may be found of moment. 
 That of Grammar, touching letters and syllables, is omitted, as learnt before, and little different from the Eng- 
 lish Spelling-book ; especially since few will be persuaded, to pronounce Latin otherwise than their own English. 
 What will not come under rule, by reason of the much variety in declension, gender, or construction, is also 
 here omitted, lest the Course and clearness of method be clogged with catalogues instead of rules, or too much 
 interruption between rule and rule : which Linaker, setting down the various idioms of many verbs, was forced 
 to do by alphabet, and therefore, though very learned, not thought fit to be read in schools. But in such words, 
 a dictionary stored with good authorities will be found the readiest guide. Of figurate construction, what is 
 useful is digested into several rules of Syntaxis : and Prosody, after this Grammar well learned, will not need 
 to be Englished for him who hath a mind to read it. Account might be now given what addition or alteration 
 from other Grammars hath been here made, and for what reason. But he who would be short in teaching, must 
 not be long in prefacing : the book itself follows, and will declare sufficiently to them who can discern. 
 
 ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 Latin Grammar is the art of right understanding, 
 speaking, or writing Latin, observed from them who 
 have spoken or written it best. 
 
 Grammar hath two parts : right wording, usually 
 called Etymology ; and right joining of words, or Syn- 
 taxis. 
 
 Etymology, or right wording, teacheth what belongs 
 to every single word or part of speech. 
 
 Noun 
 Pronoun 
 Verb i 
 
 Participle ) 
 
 Of Latin Speech are eight General Part*. 
 
 I 
 
 Declined. 
 
 Adverb "^ 
 
 Conjunction f 
 
 Preposition i 
 
 Undeclined. 
 Interjection 
 
 Declined are those words which have divers end- 
 ing's ; as homo a man, hominis of a man ; amo I love, 
 amas thou lovest. XJndeclined are those words which 
 
458 
 
 bare but one ending, as bene well, cum wben, turn 
 then. 
 
 Nouns, pronouns, and participles are declined with 
 gender, number, and case; verbs, as hereafter in the 
 verb. 
 
 Of Genders. 
 
 Genders are three, the masculine, feminine, and 
 neuter. The masculine may be declined with this ar- 
 ticle bic, as bic vir a man ; the feminine with this arti- 
 cle, btec, as heec mulier a woman ; the neuter with this 
 article, hoc, as hoc saxum a stone. 
 
 Of the masculine are generally all nouns belonging 
 to the male kind, as also the names of rivers, months, 
 and winds. 
 
 Of the feminine, all nouns belonging to the female 
 kind, as also the names of countries, cities, trees, some 
 few of the two latter excepted : of cities, as Agragas 
 and Sulmo, masculine ; Argos, Tibur, Prseneste, and 
 such as end in um, neuter; Anxur both. Of trees, 
 oleaster and spin us, masculine : but oleaster is read 
 also feminine, Cic. Verr. 4. Acer, siler, suber, thus, 
 robur, neuter. 
 
 And of the neuter are all nouns, not being proper 
 names, ending in um, and many others. 
 
 Some nouns are of two genders, as hie or hsec dies 
 a day ; and all such may be spoken both of male and 
 female, as hie or hoec parens a father or mother: some 
 be of three, as hie heec and hoc felix happy. 
 
 Of Numbers. 
 
 Words declined have two numbers, the singular and 
 the plural. The singular speaketh but of one, as lapis 
 a stone. The plural of more than one, as lapides 
 stones ; yet sometimes but of one, as Athenee the city 
 of Athens, literce an epistle, eedes sedium a house. 
 
 Note, that some nouns have no singular, and some 
 no plural, as the nature of their signification requires. 
 Some are of one gender in the singular; of another, 
 or two genders, in the plural, as reading will best 
 teach. 
 
 0/ Cases. 
 
 Nouns, pronouns, and participles are declined with 
 six endings, which are called cases, both in the singu- 
 lar and plural number. The nominative, genitive, 
 dative, accusative, vocative, and ablative. 
 
 The nominative is the first case, and properly nameth 
 the thing, as liber a book. 
 
 The genitive is englished with this sign of, as libri 
 of a book. 
 
 The dative with this sign to, or for, as libro to or for 
 a book. 
 
 The accusative bath no sign. 
 
 The vocative calleth or speaketh to, as O liber, 
 book, and is commonly like the nominative. 
 
 But in the neuter gender the nominative, accusa- 
 tive, and vocative, are like in both numbers, and in the 
 plural end always in a. 
 
 The ablative is englished with these signs, m, with, 
 of, for, from, by, and such like, as de libro of or from 
 
 ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 the book, pro libro for the book ; and the ablative 
 plural is always like the dative. 
 
 Note, that some nouns have but one ending through- 
 out all cases, as frugi, nequam, nihil ; and all words of 
 number from three to a hundred, as quatuor four, 
 quinque five, Sec. 
 
 Some have but one, some two, some three cases only, 
 in the singular or plural, as use will best teach. 
 
 Of a Noun. 
 
 A Noun is the name of a thing, as manus a hand, 
 domus a house, bonus good, pulcher fair. 
 
 Nouns be substantives or adjectives. 
 
 A noun substantive is understood by itself, as homo 
 a man, domus a house. 
 
 An adjective, to be well understood, requireth a sub- 
 stantive to be joined with it, as bonus good, parvus 
 little, which cannot be well understood imless some- 
 thing good or little be either named, as bonus vir a 
 good man, parvus puer a little boy ; or by use under- 
 stood, as bonestum an honest thing, boni good men. 
 
 The Declining of Substantives. 
 
 Nouns substantives have five declensions or forms of 
 ending their cases, chiefly distinguished by the diflfereut 
 ending of their genitive singular. 
 
 The first Declension. 
 
 The first is when the genitive and dative singular 
 end in te, &c. as in the example following. 
 
 Singular. 
 No. Voc. Abl. musa 
 Gen. Dal. musee 
 Ace. musam. 
 
 Plural. 
 Nom. Voc. musee 
 Gen. musarura 
 Dat. Abl. musis 
 Ace. musas. 
 
 This one word familia joined with pater, mater, 
 filius, or filia, endeth the genitive in as, as pater fa- 
 milias, but sometimes familiae. Dea, mula, equa, 
 liberta, make the dative and ablative plural in abus ; 
 filia and nata in is or abus. 
 
 The first declension endeth always in a, unless in 
 some words derived of the Greek : and is always of the 
 feminine gender, except in names attributed to men,, 
 according to the general rule, or to stars, as cometa,, 
 planeta. 
 
 Nouns, and especially proper names derived of the 
 Greek, have here three endings, as, es, e, and are de- 
 clined in some of their cases after the Greek form. 
 iEneas, ace. .^nean, voc. iEnea; Anchises, ace. An- 
 chisen, voc. Anchise, or Anchisa, abl. Anchise. Pene- 
 lope, Penelopes, Penelopen, voc. abl. Penelope. Some- 
 times following the Latin, as Marsya, Philocteta, for as 
 and es; Philoctetam, Eripbylam, for an and en. Cic. 
 
 The second Declension. 
 
 The second is when the genitive singular endeth in 
 i, the dative in o, &c. 
 
 Singular. 
 Nom. Voc. liber 
 Gen. libri 
 Dat. Abl. libro 
 Ace. librum. 
 
 Plural. 
 Nom. Voc. libri 
 Gen. lihrorum 
 Dat. Abl. libris 
 Ace. libros. 
 
ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 459 
 
 Note, that when the nominative endeth in us, the 
 vocative shall end in e, as dominus 6 domine, except 
 deus 6 deus. And these following-, aguus, lucus, val- 
 gus, populus, chorus, fluvius, e or us. 
 
 Wlien the nominative endeth in ius, if it he the pro- 
 per name of a man, the vocative shall end in i, as 
 Georg-ius 6 Georgi ; hereto add filius 6 fili, and genius 
 6 geni. 
 
 All nouns of the second declension are of the mascu- 
 line or neuter gender ; of the masculine, such as end in 
 er, or, or us, except some few, humus, domus, alvus, 
 and others derived of the Greek, as methodus, anlido- 
 tus, and the like, which are of the feminine, and some 
 of them sometimes also masculine, as atomus, phaselus; 
 to which add ficus the name of a disease, grossus, 
 pampinus, and rubus. 
 
 Those of the neuter, except virus, pelagus, and vul- 
 gus, (which last is sometimes masculine,) end ail in 
 um, and are declined as followeth : 
 
 Singular. Plural. 
 
 Nam. Ac. Voc. studium 
 Gen. studii 
 Dat. Abl. studio. 
 
 Nom. Ac. Voc. studia 
 Gen. studiorum 
 Dat. Abl. studiis. 
 
 Some nouns in this declension are of the first example 
 singular, of the second plural, as Pergamus the city 
 Troy, plur. heec Pergama; and some names of hills, as 
 Moenalus, Ismarus, htcc Ismara ; so also Tartarus, and 
 the lake Avernus ; others are of both, as sibilus, jocus, 
 locus, hi loci, or haec loca. Some are of the second 
 example singular, of the first plural, as Argos, ccolum, 
 plur. hi coeli ; others of both, as rastrum, capistrum, 
 filum, friEnum ; plur. frteni or froena. Nundinum, & 
 epulum, are of the first declension plural, nundinae, 
 epulte ; balneum of both, balncte or balnea. 
 
 Greek proper names have here three endings, os, on, 
 and us long from a Greek diphthong. Heec Delos, 
 banc Delon. Hoc Ilion. The rest regular, Hie Pan- 
 thus, 6 Panthu, Virg. 
 
 The third Declension. 
 
 The third is when the genitive singular endeth in is, 
 the dative in i, the accusative in em, the ablative in e, 
 and sometimes in i ; the noin. ace. voc. plural in es, 
 the genitive in um, and sometimes in ium, &c. 
 
 Plural 
 Nom. Ace. Voc. panes 
 Gen. panum 
 Dat. Abl. panibus. 
 
 Plural. 
 Nom. Ac. Voc. parentes 
 Gen. parentum 
 Dat. Abl. parentibus. 
 
 Singular. 
 Nom. Gen. Voc. panis 
 Dat. pani 
 Ace. panem 
 Abl. pane 
 
 Singular. 
 Nom. Voc. parens 
 Gen. parentis 
 Dat. parenti 
 Ace. parentem 
 Abl. parente. 
 
 This third declension, with many endingfs, hath all 
 genders, best known by dividing all nouns hereto be- 
 longing into such as either increase one syllable long 
 or short in the genitive, or increase not at all. 
 
 Such as increase not in the genitive are generally 
 feminine, as nubes nubis, caro carnis. 
 
 Except such as end in er, as hie venter ventris, and 
 
 these in is following, natalis, aqualis, lienis, orbis, 
 callis, caulis, collis, follis, mensis, ensis, fustis, funis, 
 panis, penis, crinis, ignis, cassis, fascis, torris, piscis, 
 unguis, vermis, vectis, postis, axis, and the compounds 
 of assis, as centussis. 
 
 But canalis, finis, clunis, restis, sentis, amnis, corbis, 
 linter, torquis, anguis, hie or hsec: to these add vepres. 
 
 Such as end in e are neuters, as mare, rete, and two 
 Greek in es, as hippomanes, cacoethes. 
 
 Nouns increasing Jong. 
 
 Nouns increasing one syllable long in the genitive 
 are generally feminine, as heec pietas pietatis, virtus 
 virtutis. 
 
 Except such as end in ans masculine, as dodrans, 
 quadrans, sextans ; in ens, as oriens, torrens, bidens, a 
 pickaxe. 
 
 In or, most commonly derived of verbs, as pallor, 
 clamor ; in o, not thence derived, as ternio, senio, ser- 
 mo, temo, and the like. 
 
 And these of one syllable, sal, sol, ren, splen, as, bes, 
 pes, mos, flos, ros, dens, mons, pons, fons, grex. 
 
 And words derived from the Greek in en, as lichen ; 
 in er, as crater; in as, as adamas; in es, as lebes; to 
 these, hydrops, thorax, phoenix. 
 
 But scrobs, rudens, stirps, the body or root of a tree, 
 and calx a heel, hie or hoec. 
 
 Neuter, these of one syllable, mel, fel, lac, far, ver, 
 cor, ces, vas vasis, os ossis, os oris, rus, thus, jus, cms, 
 pus. And of more syllables in al and ar, as capital, 
 laquear, but halec hoc or beec. 
 
 Nouns increasing short. 
 
 Nouns increasing short in the genitive are generally 
 masculine, as hie sanguis sanguinis, lapis lapidis. 
 
 Except, feminine all words of many syllables ending 
 in do or go, as dulcedo, compago ; arbor, hyems, cus- 
 pis, pecus pecudis : These in ex, forfex, carex, tomex, 
 supellex : In ix, appendix, histrix, coxendix, filix : 
 Greek nouns, in as and is, as lampas, iaspis : To these 
 add chlamys, bacchar, sindon, icon. 
 
 But margo, cinis, pulvis, adeps, forceps, pumex, ra- 
 mex, imbrex, obex, silex, cortex, onyx, and sardonyx, 
 hie or hoec. 
 
 Neuters are all ending in a, as problema: in en, ex- 
 cept hie pecten; in ar, as jubar: in er these, verber, 
 iter, uber, cadaver, zinziber, laser, cicer, siser, piper, 
 papaver, sometimes in ur, except hie furfur, in us, as 
 onus, in ut, as caput; to these marmor, oequor, ador. 
 
 Greek proper names here end in as, an, is, and ens, 
 and may be declined some wholly after the Greek form, 
 as Pallas, Pallados, Palladi, Pallada ; others in some 
 cases, as Atlas, ace. Atlanta, voc. Atla. Garamas, plur. 
 Garamantes, ace. Garamantas. Pan, Panos, Pana. 
 Phyllis, Phyllidos, voc. Phylli, plur. Phyllides, ace. 
 Phyllidas. Tethys, Tethyos, ace. Tethyn, voc. Tethy. 
 Neapolis Neapolios, ace. Neapolin. Paris, Paridos or 
 Parios, ace. Parida, or Parin. Orpheus, Orpheos, Or- 
 phei, Orphea, Orpheu. But names in eus borrow^ 
 sometimes their genitive of the second declension, as 
 Erechtheus, Erechthei. Cic. Achilles or Achilleus, 
 
460 
 
 ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 Achillci ; and sometimes their accusative in on or um, 
 as Orpheus Orpheon, Theseus Theseum, Perseus Per- 
 seuni, which sometimes is formed after Greek words of 
 the first declension ; Latin, Perseus or Perses, Pcrste 
 Persce Persen Persse Persa. 
 
 The fourth Declension. 
 
 The fourth is when the genitive sing'ular endeth in 
 us, the dative sing'ular in ui, and sometimes in u, plural 
 in ibus, and sometimes in ubus. 
 
 Singular. Plural. 
 
 Horn. Gen. Voc. sensus 
 Dat, sensui 
 Ace. sensuni 
 Abl. sensu. 
 
 Nom. Ace. Voc. sensus 
 den. seusuum 
 Dat. Abl. sensibus. 
 
 The fourth declension hath two endings, us and u ; 
 us ffenerally masculine, except some few, as hoec 
 manus, ficus, the fruit of a tree, acus, porticus, tribus, 
 but penus and specus hie or heec. U of the neuter, 
 as gelu, genu, veru; but in the singular most part 
 defective. 
 
 Proper names in os and o long, pertaining to the 
 fourth declension Greek, may belong best to the fourth 
 in Latin, as Androgeos, gen. Androgeo, ace. Audro- 
 geou; hie Athos, hunc Atho, Virg.; h»ec Sappho, gen. 
 Sapphus, ace. Sappho. Better authors follow the 
 Latin form, as Dido Didouis Didonem. But Jesus 
 Jcsu Jesum Jesu Jesu. 
 
 The fifth Declension. 
 
 The fifth is when the genitive and dative singular 
 end in ei, <Scc. 
 
 Singular, 
 Nom. Voc. res 
 Gen. Dat. rei 
 Ace. rem 
 Abl. re. 
 
 Plural. 
 Nom. Ac. Voc. res 
 Gen. rerum 
 Dat. Abl. rebus. 
 
 All nouns of the fifth declension are of the feminine 
 gender, except dies hie or bcec, and his compound me- 
 ridies hie only. 
 
 Some nouns are of more declensions than one, as vas 
 vasis of the third in the singular, of the second in the 
 plural vasa vasoruni. Colus, laurus, and some others, 
 of the second and fourth. Saturnalia, saturnalium or 
 saturnaliorum, saturnalibus, and such other names of 
 feasts. Poematum, puematis or poematibus, of the 
 second and third plural. Plebs of the third and fifth, 
 plebis or plebei. 
 
 The Declining of Adjectives. 
 
 A Noun adjective is declined with three termina- 
 tions, or with three articles. 
 
 An adjective of three terminations is declined like 
 the first and second declension of substantives joined 
 together after this manner. 
 
 Singular. 
 N. bonus bona bonum 
 G. boni bonte boni 
 D. bono boiife bono 
 /I. bonum bonam bonum 
 V. bone bona bonum 
 A. bono boua bono. 
 
 Plural. 
 No. Vo. boni bonte bona 
 G. bonoruni boiiarum 
 
 bonorum 
 Dat. Abl. bonis 
 A. bonos l>onas bona 
 
 In like manner those in er and ur, as sacer sacra sa- 
 crum, satur satura saturum ; but unus, totus, solus, 
 alius, alter, ullus, uter, with their compounds neuter, 
 utcrque, and the like, make their genitive singular ia^ 
 ius, the dative in i, as unus una unum, gen. unius, 
 dat. uni, in all the, rest like bonus, save that alius 
 maketh in the neuter gender aliud, and in the dative 
 alii, and sometimes in the genitive. 
 
 Ambo and duo be thus declined in the plural only. 
 
 Nom. Voc. ambo amboe ambo 
 Gen. amborum anibarum amborum 
 Dat. Abl. ambobus ambabus ambobus 
 Ace. ambos or ambo, ambas ambo. 
 
 Adjectives of three articles have in the nominative 
 either one ending, as hie, ho^c, (k hoc felix ; or two, 
 as hie Sc heec tristis &c hoc triste ; and are declined 
 like the third declension of substantives, as followeth. 
 
 Singular. 
 No. hie haec & hoc felix 
 Gen. felicis 
 Dat. felici 
 Ace. hunc & banc fcli- 
 
 cem, & hoc felix 
 Voc. 6 felix. 
 Abl. felice or felici. 
 
 Singular. 
 No. hie & heec tristis & 
 
 hoc triste 
 Gen. tristis 
 Dat. Abl. tristi 
 Ace. hunc & banc tris- 
 
 tem, & hoc triste 
 Voc. 6 tristis, & 6 triste. 
 
 Plural. 
 Nom. hi & hcB felices, & 
 
 bcec felicia 
 Ge7i. felicium 
 Dat. Abl. felicibus 
 Ace. hos & has felices, & 
 
 hsec felicia 
 Voc. 6 felices, 8e 6 felicia. 
 
 Plural. 
 Norn, hi & hse tristes & 
 
 htec tristia 
 Gen. tristium 
 Dat Abl. tristibus 
 Ace. hos & has tristes, & 
 
 hsec tristia 
 Voc. 6 tristes, & 6 tristia. 
 
 There be also another sort which have in the nomi- 
 native case three terminations and three articles, as hie 
 acer, hie & hsDC acris, hoc acre. In like manner be i 
 declined equester, volucer, and some few others, being 
 in all other cases like the examples beforegoing. 
 
 Comparisons of Nouns. 
 
 Adjectives, whose signification may increase or be 
 diminished, may form comparison, whereof there be 
 two degrees above the positive word itself, The com- 
 parative, and superlative. 
 
 The positive signifieth the thing itself without com- 
 paring, as durus hard. 
 
 The comparative exceedeth his positive in significa- j 
 tion, compared with some other, as durior harder ; and 
 is formed of the first case of his positive that endeth 
 in i, by putting thereto or and us, as of duri, hie & bcec 
 durior, & hoe durius : of dulci, dulcior, dulcius. 
 
 The superlative exceedeth his positive in the highest 
 degree, as durissimus hardest; and it is formed of the 
 first case of his positive that endeth in is, by put- 
 ting thereto siraus, as of duris durissimus, dulcis dul- 
 cissimus. 
 
 If the positive end in er, the superlative is formed of 
 tiie nominative case by putting to it rimus, as pulcher 
 pulcherrimus. Like to these are vetus veterrimus, ma- 
 turus maturimus; but dexter dextcrrimus, and sinister, 
 sinisterior, sinistcrrimus. 
 
 All these nouns ending in lis make the superlative 
 
ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 461 
 
 by cliaiiging- is into limus, as Lnmilis, similis, facilis, 
 gracilis, agilis, docilis docillimus. 
 
 All other nouns ending- in lis do follow the general 
 rule, as utilis utilissimus. 
 
 Of these positives following are formed a different 
 sort of superlatives ; of superus, supremus and sunimus ; 
 inferus, infimus and imus; exterus, extimus and ex- 
 tremus ; posterus postrenius. 
 
 Some of these want the positive, and are formed 
 from adverbs ; of intra, interior intimus, ultra ulterior 
 ultimus, citra citerior citimus, pridem prior primus, 
 prope propior proximus. 
 
 Others from positives without case, as nequam, ne- 
 quior, nequissimus. 
 
 Some also from no positive, as ocior ocissimus. 
 Some want the comparative, as novus novissimus, in- 
 clytus inclytissimus. 
 
 Some the superlative, as senex senior, juvenis junior, 
 adolcscens adolescentior. 
 
 Some ending in us, frame their comparative as if they 
 ended in ens, benevolus, maledicus, magnificus magni- 
 ficentior magnificentissimus. 
 
 These following are without rule, bonus melior opti- 
 mus, malus pejor pessimus, magnns major maximus, 
 parvus minor minimus; multus plurimus, multa plu- 
 rima, multumplus plurimum. 
 
 If a volume come before us, it is compared with ma- 
 gis and maxim^, as pius, magis pius, maxim6 pius; 
 idoneus, magis and maxim^ idoneus. Yet some of 
 these follow the general rule, as assiduus assiduissi- 
 mus, strennus strenuior, exiguus cxiguissimus, tenuis 
 tenuior tenuissimus. 
 
 Of a Pronoun. 
 
 A Pronoun is a part of speech that standeth for a 
 noun substantive, either present or before spoken of, as 
 ille he or that, hie this, qui who. 
 
 There be ten pronouns, ego, tu, sui, illc, ipse, iste, 
 hie, is, qui, and quis, besides their compounds, egomet, 
 tute, hicce, idem, quisnam, aliquis, and such others. 
 The rest so called, as mens, tuns, siius, noster, vester, 
 nostras, vestras, cujus, and cujas, are not pronouns, but 
 adjectives thence derived. 
 
 Of pronouns such as shew the thing present are 
 called demonstratives, as ego, tu, hie; and such as re- 
 fer to a thing antecedent, or spoken of before, are 
 called relatives, as qui who or which. 
 
 Quis, and often qui, because they ask a question, are 
 called interrogatives, with their compounds, ecquis, 
 nnmquis. 
 
 Declensions of Pronouns are three. 
 
 Ego, tu, sui, be of the first declension, and be thus 
 declined. 
 
 Singular. 
 
 Nom. ego 
 Gen. mei 
 Dat. mihi 
 Ace. Abl. me 
 Voc. caret. 
 
 Plural. 
 
 Nom. Ace nos 
 Gen. nostrum or nostri 
 Dat. Abl. nobis 
 Voc. caret. 
 
 Singular 
 
 Nom. Voc. tu 
 Gen. tui 
 Dat. tibi 
 Ace. Abl. 
 
 te. 
 
 Plural. 
 
 Nom. Ace. Voc. vos 
 Gen. vestrum or vestri 
 Dat. Abl. vobis. 
 
 Siuff. 
 Plur. 
 
 Nom. Voc. caret I Dat. sibi 
 . Gen. sui j Ace. Abl. se. 
 
 From these three be derived meus, tuus, suus, nos- 
 ter, vester, nostras, vestras, (which are called posses- 
 sives,) whereof the former five be declined like adjec- 
 tives of three terminations, except that meus in the vo- 
 cative case maketh mi, mea, meum ; nostras, vestras, 
 with three articles, as hie & hiec nostras, & hoc nostras 
 or nostrate, vestrate. In other cases according to rule. 
 
 These three, ille, iste, ipse, be of the second declen- 
 sion, making their genitive singular in ius, their dative 
 in i ; and the former two be declined like the adjective 
 alius, and the third like unus, before spoken of. 
 
 Nom. ille ilia illud, Gen. illius, Dat. illi. 
 Sing. Nom. iste ista istud. Gen. istius, Dat. isti. 
 
 Nom. ipse ipsa ipsum. Gen. ipsius, Dat. ipsi. 
 
 These four, hie, is, qui, and quis, be of the third de- 
 clension, making their genitive singular in jus, with j 
 consonant, and be declined afler this manner. 
 
 Singular. 
 Nom. hie htec hoc 
 Gen. hujus 
 Dat. huic 
 Ace. hunc banc hoc 
 Voc. caret 
 Abl. hoc hac hoc. 
 
 Plural. 
 Nom. hi hoe htec 
 Gen. horum harum horum 
 Dat. Abl. his 
 Ace. hos has htec 
 Voc. caret. 
 
 Of iste and hie is compounded istic, istsec, istoc or is- 
 tuc. Ace. istunc, istanc, istoc or istuc. Abl. istoc, 
 istac, istoc. Plur. istoec only. 
 
 Plural. 
 Nom. ii eee ea 
 Gen. eorum earum eorum 
 Dat. Abl. iis or eis 
 Ace. eos eas ea 
 Voc. caret. 
 
 Plural. 
 Nom. qui, qure quoc 
 Gen. quorum quarum quo- 
 rum. 
 Dat. Abl. quibus or queis 
 Ace. quos quas quse 
 Voc. caret. 
 
 In like manner, quivis, quilibet, and quicunquc the 
 compounds. 
 
 Sing. Nom. quis, qua or quae, quid, Gen. ^c. like 
 qui. So quisquam, quisnam, compounds. 
 
 Of quis are made these pronoun adjectives, cujus 
 cuja cujum, whose; and hie & hoec cujus and hoc 
 cujate, of what nation. 
 
 Quisquis is defective, and thus declined, 
 
 5Quisquis I C I rQuoquo 
 
 ..„„.. V ^cc. < Quicquid Ab.< Quaqua 
 
 ( Quicquid | (. | C Quoquo. 
 
 Singular. 
 Nom. is ea id 
 Gen. ejus 
 Dat. ei 
 
 Ace. eum earn id 
 Voc. caret 
 Abl. eo ea eo. 
 
 Singular. 
 Nom. qui qute quod 
 Gen. cujus 
 Dat. cui 
 
 Ace. quem quam quod 
 Voc. caret 
 Ab. quo qua quo or qui. 
 
 Of a Verb. 
 A Verb is a part of speech, that betokeneth being, 
 
402 
 
 ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 as sum I am ; or doing-, as laudo I praise ; and b de- 
 clined witli mood, tense, number, and person. 
 
 Moods. 
 
 There be four moods, which express the manner of 
 doing; the indicative, the imperative, the potential or 
 subjunctive, and the infinitive. 
 
 The indicative mood sbeweth or declareth, as laudo 
 I praise. 
 
 The imperative biddeth or exhortetb, as lauda 
 praise thou. 
 
 The potential or subjunctive is englished with these 
 signs, ma}', can, might, would, could, should : or with- 
 out them as the indicative, if a conjunction go before or 
 follow ; as laudem I may or can praise. Cum lauda- 
 reni when I praised. Cavissem, si proevidissem, I had 
 bewared if I had foreseen. 
 
 The infinitive is englished with this sign, to, as lau- 
 dare to praise. 
 
 Tenses. 
 
 There be three tenses which express the time of 
 doing : the present, the preterit or past, and the future. 
 
 The present tense speaketh of the time that now is, as 
 laudo I praise. 
 
 The preterit speaketh of the time past, and is distin- 
 guished by three degrees : the preterimperfect, the pre- 
 terperfect, and the preterpluperfect. 
 
 The preterimperfect speaketh of the time not per- 
 fectly past, as laudabam I praised or did praise. 
 
 The preterperfect speaketh of the time perfectly past, 
 as laudavi I have praised. 
 
 The preterpluperfect speaketh of the time more than 
 perfectly past, as laudaveram I had praised. 
 
 The future tense speaketh of the time to come, as 
 laudabo I shall or will praise. 
 
 Persons. 
 
 Through all moods, except the infinitive, there be 
 three persons in both numbers, as, sing, laudo I praise, 
 laudas thou praisest, laudat he praiseth ; pliir. lauda- 
 mus we praise, laudatis ye praise, laudant they praise. 
 Except some verbs which are declined or formed in the 
 third person only, and have before them this sign, it, 
 as teedet it irketh, oportet it behoveth, and are called 
 impersonals. 
 
 The verb which betokeneth being is properly the 
 verb sum only, which is therefore called a verb sub- 
 stantive, and formed after this manner. 
 
 Indicative. 
 Pres. I I am. 
 
 sing. I Sum, es, est, Plur. sumns, estis, sunt. 
 Pret. [ I was. 
 imp. I Eram, eras, erat, PL eraraus, eratis. erant 
 
 I have been. 
 Pret. Fui, fuisti, fuit, Plur. fuimus, fuistis, fuerunt 
 perfect. or fuere. 
 I had been. 
 Pret. Fueram, fueras, fuerat, Plur. fueramus, fueratis, 
 plup. fuerant. 
 Fu- I I shall or will be. 
 ture. I Ero, eris, erit, Plur. erimus, eritis, eruut. 
 
 Sing. 
 
 Pres. 
 sing. 
 
 Be thou. 
 Sis,es, I Sit, 
 esto. I esto. 
 
 Imperative. 
 
 Plur. 
 
 Si- 
 mus. 
 
 Sitis,este, 
 estote. 
 
 Sint, 
 
 SUQtO. 
 
 Potential. 
 
 I may or can be. 
 Sim, sis, sit, PL simus, sitis, sint. 
 I might or could be. 
 Esseni or foreni, es, et, PL essemus, essetis, 
 essent or forent. 
 I might or could have been. 
 Fuerim, ris, rit, PL rim us, ritis, rint. 
 If I had been. 
 Fuissem, es, et. PL emus, etis, ent. 
 
 Preter- 
 imperf. 
 Preter- 
 perfect. 
 Preterplup. 
 with a con- 
 junction. Si 
 Future, I If I shall be, or shall have been 
 Si. I Fuero, ris, rit, PL rimus, ritis, rint. 
 
 Pres. 
 
 and 
 
 preter- 
 
 iiiiperf. 
 
 Future. 
 
 Infinitive. 
 
 Preter- 
 perfect, 
 & pret. 
 pluper. 
 Fore, to be hereafter. 
 
 Esse, to be 
 
 Fuisse, to have or had 
 been. 
 
 In like manner are formed the compounds ; absum, 
 adsum, desum, obsum, prtesum, prosum, possum; but 
 possum something varies after this manner. 
 
 Indicat. Pres. Sing. Possum, potes, potest, P/j^r. pos- 
 sumus, potestis, possunt. The other are regular, pote- 
 ram, potui, potuerani, potero. 
 
 Imperative it wants. 
 
 Potent. Pres. Possum, &c. Preterimperfect, Possem. 
 
 In6n. Pres. Posse. Preterit, Potuisse. 
 
 Voices. 
 
 In Verbs that betoken Doing are two voices, the' 
 Active and the Passive. 
 
 The Active signifieth to do, and always endeth in o, 
 as doceo I teach. 
 
 The Passive signifieth what is done to one by an- 
 other, and always endeth in or, as doceor I am taught., 
 
 From these are to be excepted two sorts of verbs.; 
 The first are called Neuters, and cannot take or in the 
 passive, as curro I run, sedeo 1 sit; yet signify some- 
 times passively, as vapulo I am beaten. 
 
 The second are called Deponents, and signify act- 
 ively, as loquor I speak ; or neuters, as glorior I boast: 
 but are formed like passives. 
 
 Conjugations. 
 
 Verbs both active and passive have four conjuga* 
 tions, or forms of declining, known and distinguished 
 by their infinitive mood active, which always endeth 
 in re. 
 
 In the first conjugation, after a long, as laudare to 
 praise. 
 
 In the second, after e long, as habere to have. 
 
 In the third, after e short, as legere to read. 
 
 In the fourth, after i long, as audire to hear. 
 
 In these four conjugations, verbs are declined oi 
 formed by mood, tense, number, and person, after tbesi 
 examples. 
 
ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 463 
 
 Indicative Mood. 
 Present Tense. 
 
 Singular. 
 
 Plural. 
 
 I Thou He 
 praise, praisest. praiseth. 
 Laudo, laudas, laudat, 
 Habeo, habes, habet, 
 Lego, leg-is, legit, 
 Audio, audis, audit, 
 
 T, Laudabara, 
 
 I'reter- Habebam, 
 imperfect Legebam, 
 ieusesing. ^u^iebam, 
 
 T» . Laudavi~^ 
 
 ^'^f': Habui 
 P^'"^^*'*. Legi i 
 ^«°««""^- Audivi ) 
 
 T, ^ Laudavcram ^ 
 
 P''^*^'-, , Habueram ( 
 pluperfect ^ ^^^^^ ^ 
 
 ^^"^^'"'^•Audiveram. ) 
 
 1 
 
 ^ 
 
 We 
 
 Ye 
 
 They 
 praise. praise, praise, 
 laudamus, laudatis, laudant. 
 habemus, habetis, habent. 
 legimus, legitis, legunt. 
 audiinus, auditis, audiunt. 
 
 I praised, or did praise. 
 
 has, bat, PL bamus, batis, bant. 
 
 I have praised. 
 > isti, it, PI. inius, istis, erunt or ere. 
 
 I had praised, 
 ras, rat, PL ramus, ratis, rant. 
 
 Future 
 
 Habcbo I ^^^' ^'^' ^^- ^''""''' ^'^"' *'"°** 
 tense sing. Legam > p^,^,. ^^^j ^^ ^^^ 
 
 Audiam S » "» 
 
 Imperative Mood, 
 Let him Let us 
 
 Praise 
 
 thou. praise. praise. 
 
 ^Lauda, Laudet, PI. Lau- 
 
 laudato. laudato, demus. 
 
 Habe, Habeat, PL Ha- 
 
 habeto. habeto. beanius. 
 
 Lege, Legat, PL Le- 
 
 legito. legito. gamus. 
 
 Audi, Audiat, PL Au- 
 
 ^.audito. audito. diamus. 
 
 Let them 
 
 Praise 
 ye. praise. 
 
 Laudate, Laudent, 
 laudatote. laudanto. 
 Habete, Habeant, 
 
 habetote. 
 
 Legite, 
 
 legitote. 
 
 Audite, 
 
 auditote. 
 
 habcnto. 
 
 Legant, 
 
 legunto. 
 
 Audiant, 
 
 audiuuto. 
 
 Potential Mood. 
 
 Laudcm, laudes, laudet, PL laudemus, lau- 
 Present Habeam, 'i detis, laudent. 
 
 tense sing. Legam, \ as, at, PL amus, atis, ant. 
 
 Audiam, 
 
 T, , • Laudarem, 
 Preterim- Haberem, 
 
 f^^^t. Legerem, 
 tense «n5r.Autii,em. 
 
 , V as, at, 
 I- ) 
 
 J 
 
 I might or could praise, 
 res, ret, PI. remus, retis, rent. 
 
 Preter- 
 perl'ect 
 tense sing. 
 
 I might or could have praised. 
 
 LaHdaverim,^ 
 
 Habuerim, f . •* r»i • •»• • . 
 
 Legerim, ( ""' "*' ^'- "«'^*' "^'' ""*• 
 
 Audiverim. ) 
 
 If I had praised. 
 Preterplu. Laudavissem,^ 
 
 sing, with Habuissem, f ses, set, Plur. semus, setis, 
 a conjunc- Legissem, T sent, 
 
 tion, Si Audivissem, * 
 
 If I shall praise, or shall have praised. 
 Laudavero, ") 
 Habuero, 
 Legero, 
 Audivero, 
 
 Future 
 tense sing 
 Si 
 
 ris, rit, Plur. rimus, ritis, rint 
 
 Infinitive Mood. 
 
 Present 
 and Pre- 
 
 Laudare, 
 Habere 
 
 terimper- Legere 
 feet tense. Audire, 
 
 ; 
 
 To 
 
 r Praise. 
 * Have. 
 
 ■) Read. 
 (.Hear. 
 
 Preterper- Laudavisse, 
 
 se,J 
 
 i Praised. 
 ) Had. 
 
 feet & Pre- Habuisse, ( ^^ ^^^^ ^^ j^^j -^-^^ 
 
 terpluper- Legisse, ( 
 
 V. Heard. 
 
 feet tense. Audivisse, 
 
 Verbs of the third conjugation irregular in some 
 Tenses of the Active Voice. 
 
 Singular. 
 Volo, vis, vult, 
 Nolo, 
 
 Indicative Mood. 
 Present Tense. 
 
 Plural. 
 Volumus, vultis, volunt. 
 Nolumus uolunt. 
 
 The rest is want- 
 Malo, mavis, mavult, 
 
 ing in this Tense. 
 Malumus, mavultis, malunt. 
 
 i Volui. 
 I Nolui. 
 ( Malui. 
 
 1, >es, et. 
 
 C Nolite, 
 \ Nolitote. 
 
 Plur. imus, itis, int. 
 Plur. emus, etis, ent 
 
 Volui. 
 Preterit. 
 
 Volo and Malo want the Imperative Mood. 
 Imperative. 
 
 o- ( Noli, I Tti 
 
 ^"'^- iNolito. I ^'•"•- 
 
 Potential. 
 
 Present Velim,) 
 Fresent Nolim, J-is, it, 
 tense ««^. j^j^jj^'^ 
 
 Preterim- Vellera, 
 perfect Nollem, 
 tense sing. Mallem, 
 
 Infinitive. 
 
 {Velle, 
 Nolle, 
 Malle. 
 
 Indicat, Pres. Edo,edis or es,edit or est, P/ur. editis 
 or estis. 
 
 Imper. Ede or as. Edito or esto. Edat, edito or 
 esto. Plur. Edite or este. Editote or estote. 
 
 Poten. Preterimperfect Tense, Ederem or essem. 
 
 Infinit. Edere or esse. 
 
 Verbs of the fourth Conjugation irregular., in some 
 Tenses active. 
 
 Eo, and queo with his compound nequeo, make eunt 
 and queunt in the plural iudicative present, and in their 
 preterimperfect ibam and quibam ; their future, ibo and 
 quibo. 
 
 Imperat. I, ito. Eat, ito. Plur. Eamus. Ite, itote. 
 Eant, eunto. 
 
 Potent. Earn, Irem, &c. 
 
 The forming of the Passive Voice. 
 
 Indicative. 
 
 I am praised. 
 
 Laudor, aris or are, atur, j I amur, amini, antur. 
 Habeor, eris or ere, etur, g emur, emini, entur. 
 Legor, eris or ere, itur, | ^ 
 
 Audior, iris or ire, itur, 
 
 imur, imini, untur. 
 imur, imini, iuntur. 
 
 I was praised. 
 
 T, . • Laudabar,^ 
 
 rreterim- jj^bebar, f baris or bare, batur, 
 
 perfect Legrebar, (Plur. bamur, bamini, bantur. 
 
 tense smg. ^uliebar 3 
 
464 
 
 ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR 
 
 Note that the passive ?oice bath no preterperfect, nor 
 the tenses derived from thence in any mood. 
 
 I shall or will be praised. 
 
 Laudabor, ^ beris or here, bilur, Plur. 
 Future Habebor, J biniur, bimini, buntur. 
 
 tense ting. Lec^ar, ^ eris or ere, etur, PL emur, emini, 
 
 Audiar, J cntur. 
 
 Imperative. 
 
 Be thou praised. Let him be praised. 
 
 I<aiidare, laudatar. Laudetur, laudator, 
 
 Habere, habetor. Habeatur, habetor, 
 
 Lepere, lepitor. Legfatur, legitor. 
 
 Audire, auditor. Audiatur, auditor. 
 
 Let us be .r, • j Let them be 
 
 . , Be ye praised. j 
 
 praised. •' '^ praised. 
 
 Laudcmur. Laudamini, laudaminor. Laudentur, 
 
 laudantor. 
 Habeamur. Habemini, habeminor. Habeantur, 
 
 habentor. 
 Legamur. Legimini, legiminor. Legantur, 
 
 leguntor. 
 Audiamur. Audimini, audiminor. Audiantur, 
 
 audiuntor. 
 
 Potential. 
 
 I may or can be praised. 
 
 Lauder, eris or ere, etur, Plur. emur, emini, 
 
 Present H^^ear,^ entur. 
 
 . Legar, > ans or are, atur, Plur. amur, amini, 
 
 "' Audiar, > antur. 
 
 I might or should be praised, 
 p^ Landarer,"\ 
 
 r " Habercr, f reris orrere, retur, P/wr. remur, 
 penect Legerer, ( 
 
 ««i'- A..Hir*.r' 3 
 
 Audirer,- 
 
 rcmiDi, rentur. 
 
 Infinitive. 
 
 Present and 
 
 preterim- 
 
 perfect. 
 
 Laudari 
 Haberi I 
 Legi I 
 Audiri 
 
 To be 
 
 /-Praised. 
 ) Had. 
 ) Read. 
 (.Heard. 
 
 Verbs irregular in some Tenses passive. 
 
 Edor, editur or estur : the rest is regular. 
 
 The verb Fio, is partly of the third, and partly of 
 the fourth conjugation, and hath only the infinitive oi 
 the passive form. 
 
 Indicat. Pres. «tn^. Fio, fis, fit, plur. fimus, fitis, 
 fiunt. I*reterimperfect, Fiebam. Preterperfect it wants. 
 Future, Fiam, &c. 
 
 Imperat. Fi, fito. plur. Fite, fitote, Finant, fiunto. 
 
 Poten. Pres. Fiam, &c. Preterimperfect, Fierem. 
 
 Infinit. Fieri. 
 
 Also this verb Fero, is contracted or shortened in 
 some tenses, both active and passive, as Fers, fert, for 
 feris, ferit, &c. 
 
 Indicat. Pres. ting. Fero, fere, fert. plur. — fertis — 
 Preterperfect, Tuli. 
 
 Imperat. Fer, ferto, &c. pi. Ferte, fertote. 
 
 Potent. Preterimperfect, Ferrem, &c. 
 
 Infinit. Ferre. 
 
 Passive. 
 Indie. Pres. sing. Feror, ferris or ferre, fertur, &c. 
 Imperat. sing. Ferre, fertor, &c. 
 Potent. Preterimperfect, Ferrer. 
 Infinit. Feri. 
 
 Of Gerund* and Supines. 
 
 There be also belonging to the infinitive mood of 
 all verbs certain voices called gerunds and supines, 
 both of the active and passive signification. 
 
 The first gerund in di, as laudandi of praising or of 
 being praised. The second in do, as laudando in prais- 
 ing or in being praised. The third in dum, as laudan- 
 dum to praise or to be praised. 
 
 Note that in the two latter conjugations the gerunds i 
 end sometimes in undi, do, dum, asdicendi ordicundi: 
 but from eo always eundi, except in the compound ara- 
 biendi. 
 
 Supines are two. The first signifieth actively, as 
 laudatura to praise ; the latter passively, as laudatu to 
 be praised. Note that most neuters of the second con- 
 jugation, and volo, nolo, malo, with many other verbs, 
 have no supine. 
 
 Verbs of the four conjugations irregular in the preter- 
 perfect tense or supines. 
 
 Verbs of the first conjugation form their preterper- 
 fect tense in avi, supine in atum, as laudo laudavi lau- 
 datum. 
 
 Except 
 
 Poto potavi potatum or potum ; neco necavi necatum 
 or nectum. 
 
 Domo, tono, sono, crepo, veto, cubo, form ui, itum, 
 as cubui cubitum ; but secui sectum, fricui frictum, 
 mico micui : yet some of these are found regular in the 
 preterperfect tense or supine, especially compounded, 
 as increpavit, discrepavit, dimicavit, sonatum, dimica- 
 tum, intonatum, infricatum, and the like. 
 
 Plico and his compounds form ui or avi, as explicui 
 or explicavi, explicitum or explicatum ; except suppli- 
 co, and such as are compounded with a noun, as dupli- • 
 CO, multiplico in avi only. 
 
 But lavo lavi lautum lotum or lavatum, juvo juvi, 
 adjuvo adjuvi adjutum. 
 
 Do dedi datum. Sto steti statum, in the compounds, 
 stitum, and sometimes stato, as prtestum prtBstiti 
 prsestitum and preestatum. 
 
 Verbs of the second conjugation form their preter- 
 perfect tense in ui, their supine in itum, as habeo habui 
 habitum. 
 
 Some are regular in their preterperfect tense, but not 
 in their supines, as doceo docui doctum, misceo miscui 
 mistum, teneo teuui tentuni, torreo torrui tostum, cen- 
 seo ceusui censum, pateo patui passum, careo carui 
 cassum and caritum. 
 
 Others are irregular both in preterperfect tense and 
 supines, as jubeo jussi jussum, sorbeo sorbui and sorpsi 
 sorptum, niulceo raulsi mulsum, luceo luxi. 
 
 Deo in di, as sedeose<lJsessum, video vidi visum, pran- 
 
ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 465 
 
 deo prandi pransum. And some in si, as suadeo suasi 
 suasum, rideo risi risuni, ardeo aisi arsum. Four double 
 their first letters, as pendeo pependi pensuni, mordeo 
 momordi morsum, spondee spopondi sponsura, tondeo 
 totoudi tonsum ; but not in their compounds, as depen- 
 di depensum. 
 
 Geo in si, and some in xi, as urgeo ursi, mulgfeo 
 mulsi and mulxi mulctum, augeo auxi auctum, indul- 
 geo indnlsi indultum, frigeo frixi, lugeo luxi. 
 
 leo, leo, and neo nevi, vieo vievi vietura : but cieo 
 cievi citum, delco delevi deletum, fleo flevi fletuni, com- 
 pleo complevi completum ; as also the compounds of 
 oleo, except redoleo and suboleo ; but adolevi adultum, 
 neo nevi netum, but maneo mansi, torqueo torsi tortum, 
 hsereo hcesi,. 
 
 Veo in vi, as ferveo fervi, but deferveo deferbui, con- 
 niveo connivi and connixi, movi raotum, vovi votum, 
 cavi cautum, fuvi fautum. 
 
 The third conjugation formeth the preterperfcct 
 tense by changing o of the present tense into i : the 
 supine without certain rule, as lego legi lectum, bibu 
 bibi bibitum, lam bo Iambi, scabo scabi, ico ici ictum, 
 mando mandi mansum, pando pandi passum, edo cdi 
 esum or estum, in like manner comedo, the other com- 
 pounds esum only ; rudo rudi, sallo salli salsum, psallo 
 psalli, emo emi emptum, viso visi visum, verlo verti 
 versum, solvo solvi solutum, volvo volvi volutum, exuo 
 exui exutum, but ruo rui ruitum, in compound rutum, 
 as derui derutum ; ingruo, mctuo metui. 
 
 Others are irregular both in preterperfcct tense and 
 supine. 
 
 In bo, scribo scripsi scriptum, nubo nupsi nuptum, 
 cumbo cubui cubitum. 
 
 In CO, vinco vici vietura, dico dixi dictum ; in like 
 manner duco ; parco peperci and parsi parsum and 
 parcitum. 
 
 In do, these three lose n, findo iidi fissum, scindo 
 scidi scissum, fundo fudi fusum. These following, 
 Tado, rado, Icedo, ludo, divido, trudo, claudo, plaudo, 
 rodo, si and sum, as rosi rosum, but ccdo cessi cessum. 
 The rest double their first letters in the preterperfcct 
 tense, but not compounded, as tundo tutudi tunsum, 
 contundo contudi contusum, and so in other com- 
 pounds. Pendo pependi pensum, dependo dependi, 
 tendo tetendi tensum and tentura, contendo coutendi, 
 pedopepedi peditum, cado cecidi casum, occido, recido 
 recidi recasum. The other compounds have no supine. 
 Ccedo cecidi CEesum, occido occidi occisum. To these 
 add all the compounds of do in this conjugation, addo, 
 credo, edo, dedo, reddo, perdo, abdo, obdo, condo, indo, 
 trado, prodo, vendo vendidi venditum, except the double 
 compound, obscondo obscondi. 
 
 In go, ago egi actum, dego degi, satago sategi, frango 
 fregi fractum, pango to join pegi pactum, pango to 
 singpanxi, ango anxi, jungo junxijunctum; but these 
 five, fingo mingo pingo stringo ringo lose n in their 
 supines, as finxi fictum ; mingo minxi, figo fixi fixum, 
 rego rexi rectum ; diligo, negligo, intelligo, lexi lec- 
 tum, spargo sparsi sparsum. These double their first 
 letter, tango tetigi tactum, but not in his compounds, 
 
 as contingo contigi, pango to bargain pepigi pactum, 
 pungo and repungo pupugi and punxi punctum, the 
 other compounds punxi only. 
 
 Ho in xi, traho traxi tractum, veho vexi vectum. 
 
 In lo, vello velli and vulsi vulsum, colo colui cul- 
 tum ; excello, prtecello, cellui celsum ; alo alui alitum 
 and altum. The rest not compounded, double their 
 first letter, fallo fefelli falsum, refello refelli, pello 
 pcpuli pulsum, compello compuli, cello ceculi, percello 
 perculi and perculsi perculsum. 
 
 In mo, vomo vomui vomitum, tremo tremui, premo 
 pressi pressum, como, premo, demo, sumo, after the 
 same manner as sumpsi sumptum. 
 
 In no, sino sivi situm, sterno stravi stratum, spemo 
 sprevi spretum, lino levi lini and livi litum, cemo crevi 
 cretum, tcmno tempsi, contemno contempsi contemp- 
 tum, gigno genui genitum, pono posui positum, cano 
 cecini cantum, concino concinui concentum. 
 
 In po, rumpo rupi ruptum, scalpo scalpsi scalptum; 
 the rest in ui, strepo strepui strepitum. 
 
 In quo, linquo liqui, relinquo rcliqui relictum, coquo 
 coxi coctum. 
 
 In ro, verro verri and versi yersum, sero to sow sevi 
 satum, in compound, situm, as inserto insitum ; sero of 
 another sig^iification most used in his compounds, 
 assero, consero, desero, exero, serui sertum ; uro ussi 
 ustum, gero gessi gestum, quoero quecsivi queesitum, 
 tero trivi tritum, curro, excurro, prsecurro, cucurri cur- 
 sum, the other compounds double not, as concurro con- 
 curri. 
 
 In so, accerso, arcesso, incesso, lacesso, ivi itum, ca- 
 pesso both i and ivi, pinso pinsui pistum and piusitum. 
 
 In SCO, pasco pavi pastum ; compesco, dispesco, ui ; 
 posco poposci, disco didici, quinisco quexi, nosco novi 
 notum, but agnosco agnituni, cognosco cognitum. 
 
 In to, sisto stiti statum, flecto fiexi flexum, pecto 
 pexui and pexi pcxum and pectitum, necto nexui and 
 nexi nexum, plecto plexi plexum, sterto stcrtui, mcto 
 messui messum, mitto misi missum, peto petivi petitum. 
 
 In TO, vivo vixi victum. 
 
 In xo, texo texui textum, nexo nexui nexum. 
 
 In cio, facio feci factum, jaciojecijactum, lacio lexi 
 lectum, specio spexi spectum, with their compounds, 
 but elicio elicui elicitura. 
 
 In dio, fodio fodi fossum. 
 
 In gio, fugio fugi fugitum. 
 
 In pio, capio cepi captum, rapio rapui raptum,CHpio 
 cupivi cupitura, sapio sapui and sapivi sapitum. 
 
 In rio, pario peperi partum. 
 
 In tio, quatio quassi quassum, concutio concussi con- 
 cussum. 
 
 In uo,pIuo plui and pluvi plutum, struostruxi struc- 
 tum, fluo fiuxi fluxum. 
 
 The fourth conjugation formeth the preterperfcct 
 tense in ivi, the supine in itum. 
 
 Except, Venio veni ventum, comperio, reperio reperi 
 repertum, cambio campsi campsum, sepio sepsi septum, 
 sarcio sarsi sartum, fulceo fulci fultum, sentio sensi 
 sensum, haurio hausi haustum, sancio sanxi sanctum 
 and sancitum, yincio vinxi vinctum, salio salui saltuni. 
 
AM 
 
 ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 in compound sultuni, as desilio desilui dcsultiim, amicio 
 amicui amictum, aperio, operio perui pcrtuni, veneo 
 venivi venum, singultivi singultuni, sepelivi sepul- 
 tum. 
 
 Of Verbs Compounded. 
 
 These verbs compounded change a into e through- 
 out, damno, lacto, sacro, fallo, arcco, tracto, partio, far- 
 cin, carpo, patro, scando, spargo, as conspergo conspersi 
 conspersum. 
 
 These following change their first vowel into i, and 
 some of them their supines into e, habeo, lateo, salio, 
 statuo, cado, leedo, cano, quoero, coedo, tango, cgeo, 
 teneo, taceo, sapin, rapio, placeo, displiceo displicui 
 displicitum ; except complaceo, perplacco, posthabeo. 
 
 Scalpo, caico, salto, change a into u, as cxculpo ; 
 claudo, quatio, lavo, lose a, as excludo, excutio, eluo. 
 
 These following cliange their first vowel into i, but 
 not in the preterperfect tense, and sometimes a into e 
 in the supine, emo, sedeo, rego, frango, capio, jacio, 
 lacio, specio, premo, as comprimo compressi compres- 
 sum, conjicio conjeci conjectum, pango in two only, 
 compiugo, impingo : ago, in all but perago, satago, 
 circumago, dego, and cogo coej^i : facio with a prepo- 
 sition only, not in other compounds, as inficio, olfacio: 
 lego in these only, diligo, eligo, intelligo, negligo, 
 seligo, in the rest not, as prselego, add to these super- 
 sedeo. 
 
 Of Verbs Defective. 
 
 Verbs called inceptives, ending in sco, borrow their 
 preterperfect tense from the verb whereof they are de- 
 rived, as tepesco tepui from tepeo, ingemisco ingemui 
 from ingemo ; as also these verbs cerno to see, vidi 
 from video, sido sedi from sedeo, fero tuli from tulo out 
 of use, in the supine latum, tollo sustuli sublatum from 
 suffero. 
 
 These want the preterperfect tense. 
 
 Verbs ending in asco, as puerasco ; in isco, as satis- 
 00 ; in urio, except parturio, esurio ; these also, verge, 
 ambigo, ferio, furo, polleo, nideo, have no preterperfect 
 tense. 
 
 Contrary, these four, odi, coepi, novi, memini, are 
 found in the preterperfect tense only, and the tenses 
 derived, as odi, oderam, oderim, odisse, except memini, 
 which hath memento mementote in the imperative. 
 
 Others are defective both in tense and person, as aio, 
 ais, ait, Plur. aiunt. The pretcrimperfect aiebam is 
 intire. Imperative, ai. Potential, aias, aiat, Plur. 
 aiamus, aiant. 
 
 Ausim, for ausus sim, ausis, ausit, Plur. ausint. 
 
 Salveo, salvebis, salve salveto, salvete salvetote, sal- 
 vere. 
 
 Ave aveto, avete avetote. 
 
 Faxo, faxis, faxit, faxint. 
 
 Quseso, Plur. qutesumus. 
 
 Infit, infiunt. 
 
 Inquio or inquam, inquis, inquit, Plur. inquiunt. 
 Inquiebat. Cic. Topic, inquisti, inquit. Future, inquies, 
 inquiet. Imperat. inque inquito. Potent, inquiat. 
 
 Dor the first persoir passive of do, and for before far- 
 
 ris or farre in the indicative, arc not read, nor der or 
 fer in the potential. 
 
 Of a Participle. 
 
 A Participle is a part of speech, partaking with the 
 verb from whence it is derived in voice, tense, and sig-, 
 nification, and with a noun adjective in manner of 
 declining. 
 
 Participles are either of the active or passive voice. 
 
 Of the active two. One of the present tense ending 
 in ans, or ens, as laudans praising, babens, legens, au- 
 diens, and is declined like fa^lix, as hie ha>c ^ hoc 
 babens, Gen. habentis, Dat. habeuti, ckc. Docens, do- 
 centis, &c. But from eo, euns, and in the compounds 
 icns euntis, except ambiens ambientis. Note that 
 some verbs otherwise defective have this participle, as 
 aiens, inquiens. 
 
 The other of the future tense is most commonly 
 formed of the first supine, by changing m into rns, as 
 of laudatum laudaturus to praise or about to praise, 
 habiturus,-lecturus, auditurus; but some are not regu- 
 larly formed, as of sectum secaturus, of jutum juva- 
 turus, sonitum soniturus, partum panturus, argutum 
 arguiturus, and such like ; of sum, futurus : this as j 
 also the other two participles following are declined.] 
 like bonus. 
 
 This participle, with the verb sum, affordeth a second 
 future in the active voice, as laudaturus sum, e.s, est, 
 &c. as also the future of the infinitive, as laudaturum- 
 esse to praise hereafter, futurum esse, &c. 
 
 Participles of the passive voice are also two, one of 
 the preterperfect tense, another of the future. 
 
 A participle of the preterperfect tense is formed of 
 the latter supine, by putting thereto s, as of laudatu 
 laudatus praised, of babitu habitus, lectu lectus, auditu j 
 auditus. 
 
 This participle, joined with the verb sum, supplieth 
 the want of a preterperfect and preterpluperfect tense 
 in the indicative mood passive, and both them and the 
 future of the potential ; as also the pretei-perfect and 
 preterpluperfect of the infinitive, and with ire or fore j 
 the future ; as laudatus sum or fui I have been praised,! 
 Plur. laudati sumus or fuimus we have been praised, 
 laudatus eram or fueram, &c. Potential, laudatus sim 
 or fuerim, laudatus essem or fuissem, laudatus ero or 
 fuero. Infinit. laudatum esse or fuisse to have or had 
 been praised ; laudatum ire or fore to be praised hereafter. 
 
 Nor only passives, but some actives also or neuters, 
 besides their own preterperfect tense borrow another 
 from this participle ; Coeno coenavi and coenatus sum, 
 Juravi and juratus, Potavi and potus sum, Titubavi 
 and titubatus, Careo carui cassus sum, Prandeo prandi i 
 and pransus, Pateo patui and passus sum, Placeo placui 
 placitus, Suesco suevi suetus sum, Libet libuit and li- 
 bitum est, Licet licuit licitum, Pudet puduit puditui 
 Piget piguit pigitum, Tuedet toeduit pertcesum est, an^ 
 this deponent Mereor nierui and meritus sum. 
 
 These neuters following, like passives, have noothe 
 preterperfect tense, but by this participle, Gaudeo ga 
 visus sum, Fidu fisus, Audeo ausus, Fio factus, Sole 
 solitus sum. 
 
ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 467 
 
 These deponents also form this participle from supines 
 irregular ; Labor lapsus, patior passus, perpetior per- 
 pessus, fateor fassus, confiteor confessus, diffiteor dif- 
 fessus, gradior gressus, ingredior ingressus, fatiscor 
 fessus, metior mensus, utor usus, ordior to spin orditus, 
 to begin orsus, nitor nisus and nixus, ulciscor ultus, 
 irascor iratus, reor ratus, obliviscor oblitus, fruor fruc- 
 tus or fruitus, misereor misertus, tuor and tueor tuitus, 
 loquor locutus, sequor secutus, experior expertus, pa- 
 cicor pactus, nanciscor nactus, apiscor aptus, adipis- 
 cor adeptus, queror questus, proficiscor profectus, ex- 
 pergiscor experrectus, comminiscor commentus, nascor 
 natus, morior mortuus, orior ortus sum. 
 
 A participle of the future passive is formed of the 
 gerund in dum, by changing m into s, as of laudandum 
 laudandus to be praised, of habendum habendus, 5cc. 
 And likewise of this participle with the verb Sum, may 
 be formed the same tenses in the passive, which were 
 formed with the participle of the preterperfect tenses, 
 as laudandus sum or fui. Sec. 
 
 Infinit. Landandum esse or fore. 
 
 Of verbs deponent come participles both of the ac- 
 tive and passive form, as loquor loquens locutus loco- 
 turus loquendus; whereof the participle of the preter 
 tense signifieth sometimes both actively and passively, 
 as dignatus, testatus, meditatus, and the like. 
 
 Of an Adverb. 
 
 An Adverb is a part of speech joined with some 
 other to explain its signification, as valde probus very 
 honest, bene est it is well, valde doctus very learned, 
 bene mane early in the morning. 
 
 Of adverbs, some be of Time, as hodie to-day, eras 
 to-morrow, &c. 
 
 Some be of Place, as ubi where, ibi there, &c. And 
 of many other sorts needless to be here set down. 
 
 Certain adverbs also are compared, as docte learnedly, 
 doctius doctissime, fortiter fortius fortissime, seepe seepi- 
 us seepissime, and the like. 
 
 Of a Conjunction. 
 
 A Conjunction is a part of speech that joinetb words 
 and sentences together. 
 
 Of Conjunctions some be copulatives, as et and, quo- 
 que also, nee neither. 
 
 Some be disjunctive, as aut or. 
 
 Some be causal, as nam for, quia because, and many 
 such like. 
 
 Adverbs when they govern mood and tense, and 
 join sentences together, as cum, ubi, postquam, and the 
 like, are rather to be called conjunctions. 
 
 Of a Preposition. 
 
 A Preposition is a part of speech most commonly 
 either set before nouns in apposition, as ad patrem, or 
 joined with any other words in composition, as indoctus. 
 
 These six, di, dis, re, se, am, con, are not read but in 
 composition. 
 
 As adverbs having cases after them may be called 
 prepositions, so prepositions having none, may be 
 counted adverbs. 
 
 Of an Ititerjection. 
 
 An Interjection is a part of speech, expressing gome 
 passion of the mind. 
 
 Some be of sorrow, as heu, hei. 
 
 Some be of marvelling, as papee. 
 
 Some of disdaining, as vah. 
 
 Some of praising, as euge. 
 
 Some of exclaiming, as 6, prob, and such like. 
 
 Figures of Speech. 
 
 Words are sometimes increased or diminished by a 
 letter or syllable in the beginning, middle, or ending, 
 which are called Figures of speech. 
 
 Increased. 
 
 In the beginning, as Gnatus for natus, tetuli for tuli. 
 Prothesis. 
 
 In the middle, as Rettulit for retulit, cinctutus for 
 cinctus. Epentbesis. 
 
 In the end, as Dicier for dici. Paragoge. 
 
 Diminished. 
 
 In the beginning, as Ruit for eruit. Apherisis. 
 
 In the middle, as Audiit for audivit, dixti for dixisti, 
 lamna for lamina. Syncope. 
 
 In the end, as Consili for consilii; scin for scisne. 
 Apocope. 
 
 2 H 
 
THE 
 
 SECOND PART OF GRAMMAR, 
 
 COMMOMLY CALLED 
 
 SYNTAXIS, OR CONSTRUCTION. 
 
 Hitherto the eight parts of speech declined and un- 
 declined have been spoken of single, and each one by 
 itself: now followeth Syntaxis or Construction, which 
 is the right joining of these parts together in a sentence. 
 Construction consisteth either in the agreement of 
 words together in number, gender, case, and person, 
 which is called concord ; or the governing of one the 
 other in such case or mood as is to follow. 
 
 Of the Concords. 
 
 There be Three concords or agreements. 
 
 The first is of the adjective with Lis substantive. 
 
 The second is of the verb with his nominative case. 
 
 The third is of the relative with his antecedent. 
 
 An adjective (under which is comprehended both 
 pronoun and participle) with his substantive or substan- 
 tives, a verb with his nominative case or cases, and a 
 relative with his antecedent or antecedents, agree all 
 in number, and the two latter in person also : as Amicus 
 certus. Viri docti. Prseceptor pralegit, vos vero neg- 
 ligitis. Xenophon et Plato fucre sequales. Vir sapit 
 qui pauca loquitur. Pater et prseceptorveniunt. Yea 
 though the conjunction be disjunctive, as, Quos neque 
 desidia neque luxuria vitiaverant. Celsus. Pater et 
 preeceptor, quos quseritis. But if a verb singular fol- 
 low many nominatives, it must be applied to each of 
 them apart, as. Nisi foro et curiae officium ac verecun- 
 dia sua constiterit. Val. Max. 
 
 An adjective with his substantive, and a relative with 
 his antecedent agree in gender and case ; but the rela- 
 tive not in case always, being ofttimes governed by 
 other constructions : as, Amicus certus in re incerta 
 cemitur. Liber quem dedisti mihi. 
 
 And if it be a participle serving the infinitive mood 
 future, it ofttimes agrees with the substantive neither 
 in gender nor in number, as, Hanc sibi rem preesidio 
 sperat futurum. Cic. Audierat non datum iri filio uxo- 
 rem. Terent. Omnia potius actum iri puto quam de 
 provinciis. Cic. 
 
 But when a verb cometh between two nominative 
 cases not of the same number, or a relative between 
 two substantives not of the same gender, the verb in 
 
 number, and the relative in gender may agree with 
 either of them ; as, Araantiura irte amoris reintegratio 
 est. Quid cnim nisi vota supersunt. Tuentur ilium 
 globum qui terra dicitur. Animal plenum rationis, 
 quem vocamus hominem. Lutetia est quam nos Pari- 
 sios dicimus. 
 
 And if the nominative cases be of several persons, or 
 the substantives and antecedents of several genders, the 
 verb shall agree with the second person before the third, 
 and with the first before either ; and so shall the ad- 
 jective or relative in their gender; as, Ego et tu sumus 
 in tuto. Tu et pater periclitamini. Pater et mater 
 mortui sunt. Frater et soror quos vidisti. I 
 
 But in things that have not life, an adjective or re- 
 lative of the neuter gender may agree with substantives 
 or antecedents masculine or feminine, or both together; 
 as, Arcus et calami sunt bona. Arcus et calami qute 
 fregisti. Pulchritudineni, constantiam, oi-dinem in 
 consiliis factisque conservanda putat. Cic. OflT. 1. Ira 
 et ffigritudo permista sunt. Sal. 
 
 Note that the infinitive mood, or any part of a sen- 
 tence, may be instead of a nominative case to the verb, 
 or of a substantive to the adjective, or of an antece- 
 dent to the relative, and then the adjective or relative 
 shall be of the neuter gender : and if there be more 
 parts of a sentence than one, the verb shall be in the 
 plural number; Diluculo surgere saluberrimum est. 
 Virtutem sequi, vita est honestissima. Audito procon- 
 sulem in Ciliciam tendere. In tempore veni, quod 
 omnium rerum est primum. Tu niultum dormis et seepe 
 potas, quae duo sunt corpori inimica. 
 
 Sometimes also an adverb is put for the nominative 
 case to a verb, and for a substantive to an adjective ; 
 as, Partim signorum sunt combusta. Prope senties et 
 vicies erogatum est. Cic. Verr. 4. 
 
 Sometimes also agreement, whether it be in gtjnder 
 or number, is grounded on the sense, not on the words ; 
 as. Ilium senium, for ilium senem. Iste scelus, for iste 
 scclestus. Ter. Transtulit in Eunuchum suam, mean- 
 ing comcediam. Ter. Pars magna obligati, meaning 
 homines. Liv. Impliciti laqucis nudus utcrque, for 
 ambo. Ov. Alter in alterius jactantes lumina vultus, 
 
ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 469 
 
 Ovid : that is, Alter ct alter. Insperanti ipsa refers 
 le nobis, for mihi. Catul. Disce omnes, Virg. iEn. 2, 
 for tu quisquis es. Dua importiina prodigia, quos 
 egestas tribune plebis constrictos addixerat. Cic. pro 
 Sest. Pars mersi tenuere ratera. Rliemus cum fratre 
 Quirino jura dabant, Virg : that is, Rhemus et frater 
 Quirinus. Divellimur inde Iphitus et Pelias mecum. 
 Virg. 
 
 Construction of Substantives. 
 
 Hitherto of concord or agreement ; the other part 
 foUoweth, which is Governing, whereby one part of 
 speech is governed by another, that is to say, is put in 
 such case or mood as the word that governeth or goeth 
 before in construction requireth. 
 
 When two substantives come together betokening 
 divers things, whereof the former may be an adjective 
 in the neuter gender taken for a substantive, the latter 
 (which also may be a pronoun) shall be in the genitive 
 case ; as, Facundia Ciceronis. Amator studiorum. 
 Ferimur per opaca locorum. Corruptus vanis rerum, 
 Hor. Desiderium tui. Pater ejus. 
 
 Sometimes, the former substantive, as this word offi- 
 cium or mos, is understood ; as Oratoris est, it is the 
 part of an orator. Extremce est dementite, it is the 
 manner of extreme madness. Ignavi est, it is the qua- 
 lity of a slothful man. Ubi ad Dianie veneris ; tem- 
 plum is understood. Justitisene prius niirer belline 
 laborum, Virg : understand causa. Neque ille sepositi 
 ciceris, neque longae invidit avenee. Hor. Supply 
 partem. 
 
 But if both the substantives be spoken of one thing, 
 which is called apposition, they shall be both of the 
 same case ; as. Pater meus vir amat .ne puerum. 
 
 Words that signify quality, following the substantive 
 whereof they are spoken, may be put in the genitive or 
 ablative case ; as, Puer bonce indolis, or bona indole. 
 Some have a genitive only; as, lugentis rex nominis. 
 Liv. Decem annorum puer. Hujusmodipax. Hujus 
 generis animal. But genus is sometimes in the accu- 
 sative : as. Si hoc genus rebus non proficitur. Varr. de 
 Re rust. And the cause or manner of a thing in the 
 ablative only : as. Sum tibi natura parens, pneceptor 
 consiliis. 
 
 Opus and Usus, when they signify need, require an 
 ablative ; as. Opus est mihi tuo judicio. Viginti minis 
 usus est filio. But opus is sometimes taken for an ad- 
 jective undeclined, and signifieth needful : as, Dux 
 nobis et auctor opus est. Alia quoc opus sunt para. 
 
 Construction of Adjectives, governing a Genitive. 
 
 Adjectives that signify desire, knowledge, ignor- 
 ance, remembrance, forgelfulness, and such like ; as 
 also certain others derived from verbs, and ending in 
 ax, require a genitive ; as Cupidus auri. Peritus belli. 
 Ignarus omnium. Memor proeteriti. Reus furti. Te- 
 nax propositi. Tempus edax rerum. 
 
 Adjectives called nouns partitive, because they sig- 
 nify part of some whole quantity or number, govern 
 the word that signifieth the thing parted or divided, in 
 the genitive ; as Aliquis nostrum. Primus omnium. 
 
 Aurium mollior est sinistra. Oratorum eloquentissimus. 
 And oft in the neuter gender ; as Multum lucri. Id 
 negotii. Hoc noctis. Sometimes, though seldom, a 
 word signifying the whole, is read in the same case 
 with the partitive, as Habet duos gladios quibus altero 
 te occisurum minatur, altero villicum, Plaut. for Quo- 
 rum altero. Magnum opus habeo in manibus; quod 
 jampridem ad hunc ipsum (me autem dicebat) quoedam 
 institui. Cic. Acad. I. Quod quaedam for cujus queedam. 
 
 A Dative. 
 
 Adjectives that betoken profit or disprofit, likeness 
 or unlikeness, fitness, pleasure, submitting or belong- 
 ing to any thing, require a dative ; as Labor est utilis 
 corpori. Equalis Hectori. Idoneus bello. Jucundus 
 omnibus. Parenti supplex. Mihi proprium. 
 
 But such as betoken profit or disprofit have some- 
 times an accusative with a preposition ; as Homo ad 
 nullam partem utilis. Cic. Inter se oequales. 
 
 And some adjectives signifying likeness, unlikeness, 
 or relation, may have a genitive. Par hujus. Ejus 
 culpa; aflines. Domini similis es. Commune animan- 
 tium est conjunctionis appetitus. Alienum dignitatis 
 ejus. Cic. Fin. 1. J'uit hoc quondam proprium populi 
 Romani, longe a domo bellare. But propior and 
 proximus admit sometimes an accusative ; as proximus 
 Pompeium sedebam. Cic. 
 
 An Accusative. 
 
 Nouns of measure are put after adjectives of like sig- 
 nification in the accusative, and sometimes in the abla- 
 tive; as Turris alta centum pedes. Arbor lata trcs di- 
 gitos. Liber crassus tres pollices, or tribus pollicibus. 
 Sometimes in the genitive; as Areas latas pedum dc- 
 num facito. 
 
 All words expressing part or parts of a tiling, may 
 be put in the accusative, or sometimes in the ablative ; 
 as Saucius frontem or fronte. Excepto quod non simul 
 esses csetera loetiis. Hor. Nuda pedem. Ov. Os hu- 
 merosque deo similis. Virg. Sometimes in the genitive ; 
 as Dubius mentis. 
 
 An Ablative. 
 
 Adjectives of the comparative degree englished 
 with this sign then or by, as dignus, indignus, precdi- 
 tus, contentus, and these words of price, earns, vilis, 
 require an ablative ; as Frigidior glacie. Multo doc- 
 tior. Uno pede altior. Dignus Lonore. Virtute pr«e- 
 ditus. Sorte sua contentus. Asse charum. 
 
 But of comparatives, plus, amplius, and minus, may 
 govern a genitive ; also a nominative, or an accusative ; 
 as Plus quinquaginta hominum. Amplius duorum 
 millium. Ne plus tertia pars eximatur mellis. Varro. 
 Paulo plus quingentos passus. Ut ex sua cuj usque 
 parte ne minus dimidium ad fratrem perveniret, Cic. 
 Verr. 4. And dignus, indignus, have sometimes a ge- 
 nitive after them ; as Militia est operis altera digna 
 tui. Indignus avorum. Virg, 
 
 Adjectives betokening plenty or want, will have an 
 ablative, and sometimes a genitive ; as Vacuus ira, or 
 irse. Nulla epistola inanis re aliqua. Ditissimus agri. 
 
470 
 
 ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 Stultorum plena sunt omnia. Integer vitoe, scelerisque 
 purus. Expors omnium. Vobis immunibus hujus esse 
 moli dahitur. 
 
 Words also betokening the cause, or form, or man- 
 ner of a thing, are put after adjectives in the ablative 
 case; as Pallidas ira. Trepidus morte futura. No- 
 mine Grammaticus, re Barbaras. 
 
 Of Pronouns. 
 
 Pronouns differ not in construction from nouns, ex- 
 cept that possessives, Mcus, tuus, suus, noster, vester, 
 bj a certain manner of speech, are sometimes joined to 
 a substantive, which governs their primitive understood 
 with a noun or participle in a genitive case ; as Dico 
 mea unius opera rempublicam esse liberatam, Cic. for 
 Mei unius opera. In like manner Nostra duorum, trium, 
 paucorum, omnium virtute, for nostrum, duorum, i^'c. 
 Meum solins peccatum, Cic. Ex tuo ipsius animo, for 
 Tui ipsius. Ex sua cujusque parte. Id. Verr. 2. Ne 
 tua quidem recentia proxinii prsetoris vestigia persequi 
 poterat. Cic. Verr. 4. Si meas preesentis preces non 
 putas profuisse. Id. pro. Plane. Nostros vidisti flentis 
 ocellos. Ovid. 
 
 Also a relative, as qui or is, sometimes answers to 
 an antecedent noun or pronoun primitive understood 
 in the possessive ; as, Omnes laudare fortunas meas, 
 qui filium haberem tali ingenio prseditum. Terent. 
 
 Construction of Verbs. 
 
 Verbs for the most part govern either one case after 
 them, or more than one in a different manner of con- 
 struction. 
 
 Of the Verb substantive Sum, and such like, with a 
 nominative and other oblique cases. 
 
 Verbs that sigfnifj being, as Sum, existo, fio ; and 
 certain passives, as Dicor, vocor, salutor, appellor, ha- 
 beor, existimor, videor ; also verbs of motion or rest, as 
 incedo, discedo, sedeo, with such like, will have a 
 nominative case after them, as they have before them, 
 because both cases belong to the same person or thing, 
 and the latter is rather in an apposition with the former, 
 than governed by the verb ; as Temperantia est virtus. 
 Horatius salutatur poeta. Ast ego quee divum incedo 
 regina. 
 
 And if est be an impersonal, it may sometimes go- 
 vern a genitive, as Usus poetse, ut moris est, liccntia. 
 Phsedrus 1. 4. Negavit moris esse Greecorum ut, &c. 
 Cic. Verr. 2. 
 
 But if the following noun be of another person, or 
 not directly spoken of the former, both after Sum and 
 all his compounds, except possum, it shall be put in 
 the dative ; as Est mihi domi pater. Multa petentibus 
 desunt multa. 
 
 And if a thing be spoken of, relating to the person, 
 it may be also in the dative ; as Sum tibi praesidio. 
 Hoec res est mihi voluptati. Quorum alteri Capitoni 
 cognomen fuit. Cic. Pastori nomen Faustulo fuisse 
 ferunt. Liv. 
 
 O/ Verbs transitive with an accusative, and the excep- 
 tions thereto belonging. 
 Verbs active or deponent, called transitive, because 
 
 their action passeth forth on some person or thing, will 
 
 have an accusative after them of the person or thing 
 
 to whom the action is done; as Amo te. Vitium fuge. 
 
 Deum venerare. Usus promptos facit. Juvat me. 
 
 Oportet te. 
 Also verbs called neuters, may have an accusative of 
 
 their own signification ; as Duram servit servitutem. 
 
 Longam ire viam. Endymionis somnum dormis. 
 
 Pastillos Rusillus olet. Nee vox bominem sonat. Cum 
 
 glaucum saltasset. Paterc. Agit leetum convivam. 
 
 Horat. Hoc me latet. 
 
 But these verbs, though transitive, Misereor and 
 
 miseresco, pass into a genitive ; as Miserere mei. 
 
 Sometimes into a dative : Huic misereor. Sen. Dilige 
 
 bonos, miseresce malis. Boetius. 
 
 Reminiscor, obliviscor, recordor, and memini, some- 
 times also require a genitive ; as Datse fidei reminisci- 
 tur. Memini tui. Obliviscor carminis. Sometimes 
 retain the accusative ; as Recordor pueritiam. Omnia 
 quee curant senes meminerunt. Plaut. 
 
 These impersonals also, interest and refert, signify- 
 ing to concern, require a genitive, except in these ab- 
 latives feminine, Mea, tua, sua, nostra, vestra, cuja. 
 And the measure of concernment is often added in these 
 genitives, magni, parvi, tanti, quanti, with their com- 
 pounds ; as Interest omnium recte agere. Tua refert 
 teipsum nosse. Vestra parvi interest. 
 
 But verbs of profiting or disprofiting, believing, 
 pleasing, obeying, opposing, or being angry with, pass 
 into a dative : as Non potes mihi commodare nee in- 
 commodare. Placeo omnibus. Crede mihi. Nimium 
 ne crede colori. Pareo parentibus. Tibi repugno. 
 Adolescenti nihil est quod succenseat. But of the first 
 and third sort, Juvo, adjuvo, leedo, offendo, retain an 
 accusative. 
 
 Lastly these transitives, fungor, fruor, utor, potior, 
 and verbs betokening want, pass direct into an ablative. 
 Fungitur officio. Aliena frui insania. Utere sorte tua. 
 But fungor, fruor, utor, had anciently an accusative. i| 
 Verbs of want, and potior, may have also a genitive. ^ 
 Pecunite indiget. Quasi tu hujus indigeas patris. 
 Potior urbe, or urbis. 
 
 Sometimes a phrase of the same signification with a 
 single verb, may have the case of the verb after it ; as 
 Id operam do, that is to say, id ago. Idne estis au- 
 thores mihi ? for id suadetis. Quid me vobis tactio 
 est? for tangitis. Plaut. Quid tibi banc curatio est 
 rem ? Id. 
 
 The Accusative with a Genitive. 
 
 Hitherto of transitives governing their accusative, 
 or other case, in single and direct construction : now 
 of such as may have after them more cases than one 
 in construction direct and oblique, that is to say, with 
 an accusative, a genitive, dative, other accusative, or 
 ablative. 
 
 Verbs of esteeming, buying, or selling, besides their 
 
ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 471 
 
 accusative, will have a genitive betokening the value 
 or price : Flocci, nihili, pili, hujiis, and the like after 
 verbs of esteeming: Tanti, quanti, pluris, minoris, and 
 such like, put without a substantive, after verbs of 
 buying or selling; as Non hujus te cestimo. Ego ilium 
 flocci pendo. ^qui boni hoc facio or consulo. Quanti 
 mercatus es hunc equum ? Pluris quam vellem. 
 
 But the word of value is sometimes in the ablative; 
 as Parvi or parvo sestimas probitatem. And the word 
 of price most usually; as Teruncio eum non emerim. 
 And particularly in these adjectives, Vili, paulo, mini- 
 mo, magno, nimio, plurimo, duplo, put without a sub- 
 stantive ; as Vili vendo triticum. Redimite captum 
 quam queas minimo. And sometimes minore for mi- 
 noris. Nam a Cselio propinqui minore centessimis 
 nummum movere non possunt. Cic. Att. 1. 1. But 
 verbs neuter or passive have only the oblique cases 
 after them ; as Tanti eris aliis, quanti tibi fueris. Pu- 
 dor parvi penditur. Which is also to be observed in 
 the following rules. 
 
 And this neuter valeo governeth the word of value 
 in the accusative ; as Denarii dicti quod denes eeris 
 valebant. Varr. 
 
 Verbs of admonishing, accusing, condemning, ac- 
 quitting, will have, besides their accusative, a genitive 
 of the crime, or penalty, or thing ; as Admonuit me 
 errati. Accusas me furti."* Vatem sceleris damnat. 
 Furem dupli condemnavit. And sometimes an ablative 
 with a preposition, or without ; as Condemnabo eodem 
 ego te crimine. Accusas furti, an stupri, an utroque .'* 
 De repetundis accusavit, or damnavit. Cic. 
 
 Also these impersonals, poenitet, toedet, miseret, mise- 
 rescit, pudet, piget, to their accusative will have a 
 genitive, either of the person, or of the thing; as Nos- 
 tri nosmet pienitet. Urbis me toedet. Pudet me neg- 
 ligeutiee. 
 
 An Accusative with a Dative. 
 
 Verbs of giving or restoring, promising or paying, 
 commanding or shewing, trusting or threatening, add 
 to their accusative a dative of the person ; as Fortuna 
 multisnimiumdedit. Hoec tibi promitto. Jils alieuum 
 mihi nunieravit. Frumentum impcrat civitatibus. 
 Quod et cui dicas, videto. Hoc tibi suadeo. Tibi or 
 ad te scribo. Pecuniam omnem tibi credo. Utrique 
 mortem minatus est. 
 
 To these add verbs active compounded with these 
 prepositions, proe, ad, ab, con, de, ex, ante, sub, post, 
 ob, in, and inter; as Proecipio hoc tibi. Admovit urbi 
 exercitum. Collegse suo imperium abrogavit. Sic 
 parvis componere magna solebam. 
 
 Neuters have a dative only; as Meis majoribus vir- 
 tute prteluxi. But some compounded with prae and 
 ante may have an accusative ; as Pi-sestat ingenio alius 
 alium. Multos anteit sapientia. Others with a pre- 
 position ; as Quse ad ventris victum conducunt. In 
 ha:c studia incumbite. Cic. 
 
 Also all verbs active, betokening acquisition, liken- 
 ing, or relation, commenly englished with to or for, 
 have to their accusative a dative of the person ; as 
 Magnam laudem sibi peperit. Huic habeo, non tibi. 
 
 Se illis oequarunt. Expedi mihi hoc negotiuni : but 
 mihi, tibi, sibi, sometimes are added for elegance, the 
 sense not requiring; as Suo hunc sibi jugulat gladio. 
 Terent. Neuters a dative only; as Non omnibus dor- 
 mio. Libet mihi. Tibi licet. 
 
 Sometimes a verb transitive will have to his accusa- 
 tive a double dative, one of the person, another of the 
 thing ; as Do tibi vestem pignori. Verto hoc tibi 
 vitio. Hoc tu tibi laudi duces. 
 
 A double Accusative. 
 
 Verbs of asking, teaching, arraying, and concealing, 
 will have two accusatives, one of the person, another of 
 the thing ; as Rogo te pecuniam. Doceo te literas. 
 Quod te jamdudum hortor. Induit se calceos. Hoc 
 me celabas. 
 
 And being passives, they retain one accusative of 
 the thing, as Sumtnmquc recingitur anguem. Ovid. 
 Met. 4. Induitur rogam. Mart. 
 
 But verbs of arraying sometimes change tiie one ac- 
 cusative into an ablative or dative; as Induo te tunica, 
 or tibi tunicam. Instravit equum penula, or equo pe- 
 nulam. 
 
 An Accutative with an Ablative. 
 
 Verbs transitive may have to their accusative an ab- 
 lative of the instrument or cause, matter or manner of 
 doing ; and neuters the ablative only ; as Ferit eum 
 gladio. Taceo metu. Malis gaudet alienis. Summa 
 eloquentia causam egit. Capitoliuni saxo quadrato 
 substructum est. Tuo consilio nitor. Vcscor pane. 
 AfRuis opibus. Amore abundas. Sometimes with a 
 preposition of the manner; as Summa cum humanitate 
 me tractavit. 
 
 Verbs of endowing, imparting, depriving, discharg- 
 ing, filling, emptying, and the like, will have an abla- 
 tive, and sometimes,' a genitive ; as Dono te hoc annulo. 
 Plurima salute te impertit. Aliquem familiarcm suo 
 sermone participavit. Paternum servum sui participavit 
 consilii. Interdico tibi aqua et igni. Libero te hoc 
 metu. Implentur veteris Bacchi. 
 
 Also verbs of comparing or exceeding, will have an 
 ablative of the excess ; as Prtefero hunc multis gradi- 
 bus. Magno intervallo eum superat. 
 
 After all manner of verbs, the word signifying any 
 part of a thing may be put in the genitive, accusative, 
 or ablative; as Absurd^ facis qui angas te animi. 
 Pendet animi. Discrucior animi. Dcsipit mentis. 
 Candet dentes. Rubet capillos. iEgrotat aninio, 
 magis quam corpore. 
 
 Nouns of Time and Place after Verbs. 
 
 Nouns betokening part of time be put after verbs in 
 the ablative, and sometimes in the accusative ; as 
 Nocte vigilas, luce dormis. Nullam partem noctis re- 
 quiescit. Cic. Abhinc triennium ex Andro commigra- 
 vit. Ter. Respondit triduo ilium, ad suramum quatri- 
 duo periturum. Cic. Or if continuance of time, in the 
 accusative, sometimes in the ablative ; as Sexaginta 
 annos natus. Hyemem totam stertis. Imperium de- 
 
473 
 
 ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 ponere maluerunt, quam id tencre punctum temporis 
 contra religionem. Cic. Imperavit triennio, et decern 
 mensibus. Suet. Sometimes with a preposition ; as 
 Ferd in diebus paucis, quibus boec acta sunt. Ter. 
 Rarely with a genitive ; as, Temporis angusti mansit 
 Concordia discors. Lucan. 
 
 Also nouns betokening space between places are put 
 in the accusative, and sometimes in the ablative ; as, 
 Pedera hiuc ue discesseris. Abest ab urbe quingentis 
 millibus passuum. Terra marique gentibus imperavit. 
 
 Nouns that signify place, and also proper names of 
 greater places, as countries, be put after verbs of moving 
 or remaining, with a preposition, signifying to, from, 
 in, or by, in such case as the preposition requireth ; 
 as Proficiscor ab urbe. Vivit in Anglia. Veni per 
 Galliam in Italiam. 
 
 But if it be the proper name of a lesser place, as of 
 a city, town, or lesser island, or any of these four, 
 Humus, domus, militia, bellum, with these signs, 
 on, in, or at, before them, being of the first or second 
 declension, and singular number, they shall be put in 
 the genitive; if of the third declension, or plural num- 
 ber, or this word rus, in the dative or ablative ; as, 
 Vixit Romse, Londini. Ea habitabat Rhodi. Conon 
 plurimum Cypri vixit. Cor. Nep. Procumbit humi 
 bos. Domi bellique siraul viximus. Militavit Cartha- 
 gini, or Carthagine. Studuit Athenis. Ruri or rure 
 educatus est. 
 
 If the verb of moving be to a place, it shall be put 
 in the accusative ; as Eo Romam, domum, rus. If 
 from a place, in the ablative ; as Discessit Londino. 
 Abiit domo. Rure est reversus. 
 
 Sometimes with a preposition ; as A Brundusio pro- 
 fectusest, Cic. Manil. Ut ab Athenis in Boeotiara 
 irem. Sulpit. apud Cic. Fam. 1. 4. Cum te profectum 
 ab domo scirem. Liv. 1. 8. 
 
 Construction of Passives. 
 
 A Verb passive will have after it an ablative of the 
 doer, with the preposition a or ab before it, sometimes 
 without, and more often a dative ; as Virgilius legitur 
 a me. Fortes creantur fortibus. Hor. Tibi fama peta- 
 tur. And neutro-passives, as Vapulo, veneo, liceo, ex- 
 ulo, fio, may have the same construction ; as Ab hoste 
 venire. 
 
 Sometimes an accusative of the thing is found after 
 a passive: as Coronari Olympia. Hor. Epist. 1. Cy- 
 clopa movetur. Hor. for saltat or egit. Purgor bilem. 
 Id. 
 
 Construction of Gerunds and Supines. 
 
 Gerunds and supines will have such cases as the 
 verb from whence they come ; as Otium scribendi lite- 
 ras. Eo auditum poetas. Ad consulendum tibi. 
 
 A gerund in di is commonly governed both of sub- 
 stantives and adjectives in manner of a genitive ; as 
 Causa videndi. Amor habendi. Cupidus visendi. Cer- 
 tu» eundi. And sometimes governeth a genitive plural; 
 as Illorum videndi gratia. Ter. 
 
 Gerunds in do are used after verbs in manner of an 
 ablative, according to former rules, with or without a 
 
 preposition ; as, Defessus sum ambulando. A disccndo 
 facile deterretur. C«sar dando, sublevando, ignos- 
 cendo, gloriam adeptus est. In apparando consumunt 
 diem. 
 
 A gerund in dum is used in manner of an accusative 
 after prepositions governing that case ; as, Ad capien- 
 dum hostes. Ante domandum ingentes tollent animos. 
 Virg. Ob redimendum captivos. Inter coenandum. 
 
 Gerunds in signification are ofttimes used as parti- 
 ciples in dus ; Tuorum consiliorum reprimcndorura 
 causa. Cic. Orationem Latinam legendis nostris efficics 
 pleniorem. Cic. Ad accusandos homines preemio du- 
 citur. 
 
 A gerund in dum joined with the impersonal est, and 
 implying some necessity or duty to do a thing, may 
 have both the active and passive construction of the 
 verb from whence it is derived ; as Utendum est cetate. 
 Ov. Pacem Trojanoa rege petendum. Virg. Iterandum 
 eadem ista mihi. Cic. Serviendum est mihi amicis. 
 Plura dixi, quam dicendum fuit. Cic. pro Sest. 
 
 Construction of Verb with Verb. 
 
 When two verbs come together, without a nomina- 
 tive case between them, the latter shall be in the in- 
 finitive mood ; as Cupio discere. Or in the first supine 
 after verbs of moving ; as Eo cubitum, spectatum. Or 
 in the latter with an adjective; as Turpe est dictu. 
 Facile factu. Opus scitu. 
 
 But if a case come between, not governed of the 
 former verb, it shall always be an accusative before the 
 infinitive mood ; as Te rediisse incolumem gaudeo. 
 Malo me divitem esse, quam haberi. 
 
 And this infinitive esse, will have always after it an 
 accusative, or the same case which the former verb 
 governs ; as Expedit bonos esse vobis. Quo mihi com- 
 misso, non licet esse piam. But this accusative agree- 
 eth with another understood before the infinitive ; as 
 Expedit vobis vos esse bonos. Natura beatis omnibus 
 esse dedit. Nobis non licet esse tam disertis. The 
 same construction may be used after other infinitives 
 neuter or passive like to esse in signification ; as Max- 
 imo tibi postea et civi, et duci evadere contigit Val. 
 Max. 1. 6. 
 
 Sometimes a noun adjective or substantive governs 
 an infinitive : as Audax omnia perpeti. Dignus amari. 
 Consilium ceperunt ex oppido profugere. Cses. Minari 
 divisoribus ratio non erat. Cic. Verr. 1. 
 
 Sometimes the infinitive is put absolute for the pre- 
 terimperfect or preterperfect tense : as, Ego illud sedulo 
 negare factum. Ter. Galba autem multas similitudines 
 afferre. Cic. Hie contra hsec omnia mere, agere vitara. 
 Ter. 
 
 Construction of Participles. 
 
 Participles govern such cases as the verb from 
 whence they come, according to their active or passive 
 sio-nification ; as, Fruiturus amicis. Nunquam audita 
 mihi. Diligendus ab omnibus. Sate sanguine diviim. 
 Telamone creatus. Corpore mortali cretus. Lucret, 
 Nate dea. Edite regibus. Lsevo suspensi loculos tabu- 
 lasque lacerto. Hor. Census equestrem summam. Id. 
 
ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 473 
 
 Abeundum est mihi. Venus orta man. Exosus bella. 
 Virg-. Exosus diis. Gell. Arma perosus, Ovid. But 
 Pertaesus hath an accusative otherwise than the verb ; 
 as Pertoesus ignaviara. Semet ipse pertsesus. Suet. 
 To these add participial adjectives ending in bilis of 
 the passive signification, and requiring like case after 
 them ; as Nulli penetrabilis astro lucus erat. 
 
 Participles changed into adjectives have their con- 
 struction by the rules of adjectives, as Appetens vini. 
 Fugitans litum. Fidens animi. 
 
 An Ablative put absolute. 
 
 Two Nouns together, or a noun and pronoun with a 
 participle expressed or understood, put absolutely, that 
 is to say, neither governing nor governed of a verb, 
 shall be put in the ablative ; as Authore senatu bellum 
 geritur. Me duce vinces. Csesare veniente hostes 
 fugerunt. Sublato claraore prselium comniittitur. 
 
 Construction of Adverbs. 
 
 En and ecce will have a nominatire, or an accusative, 
 and sometimes with a dative ; En Priamus. Ecce tibi 
 status noster. En habitum. Ecce autcm alterum. 
 
 Adverbs of quantity, time, and place require a geni- 
 tive ; as Satis loquentiee, sapientice parum satis. Also 
 compounded with a verb; as Is rerum suarum satagit 
 Tunc temporis ubique gentium. Eo impudentiee pro- 
 cessit. Quoad ejus fieri poterit. 
 
 To these add Ergo signifying the cause ; as Illius 
 ergo. Virg. Virtutis ergo. Fugae atque formidinis ergo 
 non abiturus. Liv. 
 
 Others will have such cases as the nouns from whence 
 they come ; as Minime gentium. Optime omnium. 
 Yenit obviam illi. Canit similitei huic. Albanum, 
 sive Falernum te magis oppositis delectat. Hor. 
 
 Adverbs are joined in a sentence to several moods of 
 verbs. 
 
 Of time. Ubi, postquam, cum or quum, to an indica- 
 tive or subjunctive ; as Htec ubi dicta dedit. Ubi nos 
 larerimus. Postquam excessit ex epbebis. Cum faciam 
 vitula. Virg. Cum canerem reges. Id. 
 
 Donee while, to an indicative. Donee eris feelix. 
 Donee until, to an indicative or subjunctive; Cogere 
 donee oves jussit. Virg. Donee ea aqua dccocta sit. 
 Colum. 
 
 Dum while, to an indicative. Dum apparatur virgo. 
 Dum until, to an indicative or subjunctive; as Dum 
 redeo. Tertia dum Latio regnantem viderit testas. 
 Dum for dummodo so as, or so that, to a subjunctive; 
 Dum prosini tibi. 
 
 Quoad while, to an indicative. Quoad expectas con- 
 tubernalem. Quoad until, to a subjunctive. Omnia 
 Integra servabo, quoad exercitus hue mittatur. 
 
 Simulac, simulatque to an indicative or subjunctive; 
 as Simulac belli patiens erat, simulatque adoleverit 
 oetas. 
 
 Ut as, to the same moods. Ut salutabis, ita resalu- 
 taberis. Ut sementem feceris, ita et metos. Hor. Ut 
 so soon as, to an indicative only : as Ut ventum est in 
 urbem. 
 
 Quasi, tanquam, perinde, ac si, to a subjunctive only; 
 
 as Quasi non norimus nos inter nos. Tanquam feceris 
 ipse aliquid. 
 
 Ne of forbidding, to an imperative or subjunctive; 
 as Ne saevi. Ne metuas. 
 
 Certain adverbs of quantity, quality, or cause; as 
 Quam, quoties, cur, quare, &c. Thence also qui, quis, 
 quantus, qualis, and the like, coming into a sentence 
 after the principal verb, govern the verb following in 
 a subjunctive ; as Videte quam valde malitiie suee 
 confidat. Cic. Quid est cur tu in istoloco sedeas.'' Cic. 
 pro Cluent. Subsideo mihi diligentiam comparavi, 
 qute quanta sit intelligi non potest, nisi, &c. Cic. pro 
 Quint. Nam quid hoc iniquius dici potest. Quam me 
 qui caput alterius fortunasque defendam, priore loco 
 discere. Ibid. Nullum est ofRcium tarn sanctum atque 
 solenne, quod non avaritia violare soleat. Ibid. Non 
 me fallit, si consulamini quid sitis respousuri. Ibid. 
 Dici vix potest quam multa sint qute respondeatis ante 
 fieri oportere. Ibid. Docui quo die hunc sibi promi- 
 sisse dicat, eo die ne Romee quidem eum fuisse. Ibid. 
 Conturbatus discedit neque mirum cui hcec optio tarn 
 misera daretur. Ibid. Narrat quo in loco viderit Quin- 
 tium. Ibid. Recte majores eum qui socium fefellisset 
 in virorum bonorum numero non putarunt haberi opor- 
 tere. Cic. pro Rose. Am. Quse coucursatio percontan- 
 tium quid preetor edixisset, ubi coenaret, quid enunti- 
 asset. Cic. Agrar. 1. 
 
 Of Conjunctions. 
 
 Conjunctions copulative and disjunctive, and these 
 four, Quam, nisi, pncterquam, an, couple like cases; 
 as Socrates docuit Xenophontem et Platonem. Aut 
 dies est, aut nox. Nescio albus an atcr sit. Est minor 
 natu quam tu. Nemini placet prceterquam sibi. 
 
 Except when some particular construction requireth 
 otherwise; as Studui Romse et Athenis. Emi fundum 
 centum nummis et pluris. Accusas furti, an stupri, an 
 utroque.' 
 
 They also couple for the most part like moods and 
 tenses, as Recto stat corpore, despicitque terras. But 
 not always like tenses ; as Nisi me lactasses, et vana 
 spe produceres. Et habetur, et referetur tibi a me 
 gratia. 
 
 Of other conjunctions, some govern an indicative, 
 some a subjunctive, according to their several signifi- 
 cations. 
 
 Etsi, tametsi, etiamsi, quanquam, an indicative ; 
 quamvis and licet, most commonly a subjunctive ; as 
 Etsi nihil novi afferebatur. Quanquam animus memi- 
 nisse horret. Quamvis Elysios miretur Grsecia cam- 
 pos. Ipse licet venias. 
 
 Ni, nisi, si, siquidem, quod, quia, postquam, postea- 
 quam, antequam, priusquam, an indicative or subjunc- 
 tive ; as Nisi vi mavis eripi. Ni faciat. Castigo te, non 
 quod odeo habeam, sed quod amem. Antequam dicam. 
 Si for quamvis, a subjunctive only. Redeam ? Non si 
 me obsecret. 
 
 Si also conditional may sometimes govern both verbs 
 of the sentence in a subjunctive; as Respiraro si te vi- 
 dero. Cic. ad Attic. 
 
 Quando, quandoquidem, quoniam, an indicative ; as 
 
474 
 
 ACCEDENCE COMMENCED GRAMMAR. 
 
 Dicite quandoquidem in molli consedimus berba. 
 Quoniara convenimus anibo. 
 
 Cum, seeing tbat, a subjunctive; as Cum sis officiis 
 Gradive virilibus aptus. 
 
 Ne, an, num, of doubling-, a subjunctive ; as Nihil 
 refert, fecerisne, an persuaseris. Vise num redierit. 
 
 Interrogatives also of disdain or reproach understood, 
 govern a subjunctive ; as Tantum dem, quantum ille 
 poposcerit ? Cic. Verr. 4. Sylvam tu Scantiam vendas ? 
 Cic. Agrar. Hunc tu non ames ? Cic. ad Attic. Fu- 
 rem aliquem aut rapacem acrusaris .-' Vitanda semper 
 erit omnis avaritiee suspicio. Cic. Ver. 4. Sometimes 
 an infinitive; as Mene incoepto desistere victam .'' Virg. 
 
 Ut that, lest not, or although, a subjunctive ; as Te 
 oro, ut redeat jam in viam. Metuo ut substet hospes. 
 Ut omnia contingat quae volo. 
 
 Of Prepositions. 
 
 Of Prepositions some will have an accusative after 
 them, some an ablative, some both, according to their 
 different signification. 
 
 An accusative these following, Ad, apud, ante, ad- 
 versus, adversum, cis, citra, circum, circa, circiter, con- 
 tra, erga, extra, inter, intra, infra, juxta, ob, pone, per, 
 prope, propter, post, penes, prceter, secundum, supra, 
 secus, trans, ultra, usque, versus : but versus is most 
 commonlj set after the case it governs, as Londinum 
 versus. 
 
 And for an accusative after ad, a dative sometimes 
 is used in poets ; as It clamor coelo. Virg. Coelo si 
 gloria tollit jEneadum. Sil. for ad coelum. 
 
 An ablative these. A, ab, abs, absque, cum, coram, 
 de, e, ex, pro, prse, palam, sine, tenus, which last is 
 also put after his case, being most usually a genitive, 
 if it be plural; as Capulo tenus. Aurium tenus. 
 
 These, both cases, In, sub, super, subter, clam, pro- 
 cul. 
 
 In, signifying to, towards, into, or against, requires 
 an accusative ; as Pisces emptos obolo in coenam seui. 
 Animus in Teucros benignus. Versa est in cineres 
 Troja. In te committere tantum quid Troes potuere ? 
 Lastly, when it signifies future time, or for ; as Bellum 
 in trigesimum diem indixerunt. Designati consules in 
 
 annum sequcntem. Alii prctia faciunt in singula ca- 
 pita canum. Var. Otherwise in will have an ablative; 
 as In urbe. In terris. 
 
 Sub, when it signifies to, or in time, about, or a little 
 before, requires an accusative; as Sub umbram pro- 
 peremus. Sub id tempus. Sub noctem. Otherwise 
 an ablative. Sub pedibus. Sub umbra. 
 
 Super signifying beyond, or present time, an accu- 
 sative ; as Super Garamantas et Indos. Super coenam. 
 Suet, at supper time. Of or concerning, an ablative ; 
 as Multa super Priamo rogitans. Super hac re. 
 
 Super, over or upon, may have either case ; as Su- 
 per ripas Tiberis effusus. Seeva sedens super arnia. 
 Fronde super viridi. 
 
 So also may subter; as Pugnatum est super subter- 
 que terras. Subter densa testudine. Virg. Clam pa- 
 trera or patre. Procul muros. Liv. Patria procul. 
 
 Prepositions in composition govern the same cases as 
 before in apposition. Adibo hominem. Detrudunt 
 naves scopulo. And the preposition is sometimes re- 
 peated ; as Detrahere de tua fama nunquam cogitavi. 
 And sometimes understood, govemeth his usual case ; 
 as Habeo te loco parentis. Apparuit bumana specie. 
 Cumis eraut oriundi. Liv. Liberis parentibus oriun- 
 dis. Colum. Mutat quadrata rotundis. Hor. Pridie 
 compitalia. Pridie nonas or calendas. Postridie idus. 
 Postridie ludos. Before which accusatives ante or 
 post is to be understood. Filii id setatis. Cic. Hoc 
 noctis. Liv. Understand Secundum. Or refer to part of - 
 time. Omnia Mercurio similis. Virg. Understand per. 
 
 Of Interjections. 
 
 Certain interjections have several cases after them. 
 O, a nominative, accusative, or vocative ; as festua ? 
 dies hominis. O ego leevus. Hor. O fortunatos. O 
 formose puer. 
 
 Others a nominative or an accusative ; as Heu pris-; 
 ca fides ! Heu stirpem invisam ! Proh sancte Jupiter ! 
 Proh deum atque hominum fidem! Hem tibi Davum! 
 
 Yea, though the interjection be understood ; as Me 
 raiserum ! Me coecum, qui haec ante non viderim   
 
 Others will have a dative ; as Hei mihi. Vac misero 
 mihi. Terent. 
 
THE HISTORY OF BRITAIN, 
 
 THAT PART ESPECIALLY, NOW CALLED ENGLAND; 
 
 FROM THE FIRST TRADITIONAL BEGINNING, CONTINUED TO THE 
 
 NORMAN CONQUEST. 
 
 COLLECTED OUT OP THE ANCIENTEST AND BEST AUTHORS THEREOF. 
 
 [POBLIBBEO FROM A COPT CORRICTCD BY Tni AUTBOR BIMSKLr, 1670.] 
 
 THE FIRST BOOK. 
 
 The beginningf of nations, those excepted of whom 
 sacred books have spoken, is to this day unknown. 
 Nor only tlic beginning-, but the deeds also of many 
 succeeding ages, yea, periods of ages, either wholly 
 unknown, or obscured and blemished with fables. 
 Whether it were that the use of letters came in long 
 after, or were it the violence of barbarous inundations, 
 or they themselves, at certain revolutions of time, fatally 
 decaying, and degenerating into sloth and ignorance ; 
 whereby the monuments of more ancient civility have 
 been some destroyed, some lost. Perhaps disesteem 
 and contempt of the public affairs then present, as not 
 worth recording, might partly be in cause. Certainly 
 ofttimes we see that wise men, and of best ability, have 
 forborn to write the acts of their own days, while they 
 beheld with a just loathing and disdain, not only how 
 unworthy, how perverse, how corrupt, but often how 
 ignoble, how petty, how below all history, the persons 
 and their actions were ; who, either by fortune or some 
 rude election, had attained, as a sore judgment and 
 ignominy upon the land, to have chief sway in manag- 
 ing the commonwealth. But that any law, or super- 
 stition of our philosophers, the Druids, forbad the Bri- 
 tains to write their memorable deeds, I know not why 
 any out of Caesar* should allege : he indeed saith, that 
 tlieir doctrine they thought not lawful to commit to 
 letters; but in most matters else, both private and 
 public, among which well may history be reckoned, 
 they used the Greek tongue ; and that the British 
 Druids, who taught those in Gaul, would be ignorant 
 of any language known and used by their disciples, or 
 so frequently writing other things, and so inquisitive 
 into highest, would for want of recording be ever 
 children in the knowledge of times and ages, is not 
 likely. Whatever might be the reason, this we find, 
 that of British affairs, from the first peopling of the 
 island to the coming of Julius Caesar, nothing certain, 
 
 aCaes. 1.6. 
 
 either by tradition, history, or ancient fame, hath hitherto 
 been left us. That which we have of oldest seeming, 
 hath by the greater part of judicious antiquaries been 
 long rejected for a modem fable. 
 
 Nevertheless there being others, besides the first sup- 
 posed author, men not unread, nor unlearned in anti- 
 quity, who admit that for approved story, which the 
 former explode for fiction ; and seeing that ofttimes 
 relations heretofore accounted fabulous have been after 
 found to contain in them many footsteps and reliques 
 of something true, as what we read in poets of the 
 flood, and giants little believed, till undoubted wit- 
 nesses taught us, that all was not feigned ; I have 
 therefore determined to bestow the telling over even of 
 these reputed tales ; be it for nothing else but in favour 
 of our English poets and rhetoricians, who by their art 
 will know how to use them judiciously. 
 
 I might also produce example, as Diodorus among 
 the Greeks, Livy and others among the Latins, Poly- 
 dore and Virunnius accounted among our own writers. 
 But I intend not with controversies and quotations to 
 delay or interrupt the smooth course of history ; much 
 less to argue and debate long who were the first in- 
 habitants, with what probabilities, what authorities each 
 opinion hath been upheld ; but shall endeavour that 
 which hitherto hath been needed most, with plain and 
 lightsome brevity, to relate well and orderly things 
 worth the noting, so as may best instruct and benefit 
 them that read. Which, imploring divine assistance, 
 that it may redound to his glory, and the good of the 
 British nation, I now begin. 
 
 THAT the whole earth was inhabited before the riood, 
 and to the utmost point of habitable ground from those 
 effectual words of God in the creation, may be more 
 than conjectured. Hence that this island also had her 
 dwellers, her affairs, and perhaps her stories, even in 
 that old world those many hundred years, with much 
 
476 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 reason we may infer. After the flood, and the dispers- 
 ing of nations, as they journeyed leisurely from the 
 east, Gomer the eldest son of Japhet, and his offspring*, 
 as by authorities, arguments, and affinity of divers 
 names is generally believed, were the first that peopled 
 all these west and northern climes. But they of our 
 own writers, who thought they had done nothing, un- 
 less with all circumstance they tell us when, and who 
 first set foot upon this island, presume to name out of 
 fabulous and counterfeit authors a certain Samothes or 
 Dis, a fourth or sixth son of Japhet, (who they make, 
 about 200 years after the flood, to have planted with 
 colonies, first the continent of Celtica or Gaul, and 
 next this island ; thence to have named it Samothea,) 
 to have reigned here, and after him lineally four kings, 
 Magus, Saron, Druis, and Bardus. But the forged 
 Berosus, whom only they have to cite, no where 
 mentions that either he, or any of those whom tliey 
 bring, did ever pass into Britain, or send their people 
 hither. So that this outlandish figment may easily 
 excuse our not allowing it the room here so much as 
 of a British fable. 
 
 That which follows, perhaps as wide from truth, 
 though seeming less impertinent, is, that these Saino- 
 theaus under the reign of Bardus were subdued by 
 Albion, a giant, son of Neptune ; who called the island 
 after his own name, and ruled it 44 years. Till at 
 length passing over into Gaul, in aid of his brother 
 Lestrygon, against whom Hercules was hasting out of 
 Spain into Italy, he was there slain in fight, and Ber- 
 gion also his brother. 
 
 Sure enough we are, that Britain hath been anciently 
 termed Albion, both by the Greeks and Romans. And 
 Mela, the geographer, makes mention of a stony shore 
 in Languedoc, where by report such a battle was fought. 
 The rest, as his giving name to the isle, or even land- 
 ing here, depends altogether upon late surmises. But 
 too absurd, and too unconscionably gross is that fond 
 invention, that wafted hither the fifty daughters of a 
 strange Dioclesim king of Syria ; brought in, doubt- 
 less, by some illiterate pretender to something mistaken 
 in the common poetical story of Danaus king of Argos, 
 while his vanity, not pleased with the obscure begin- 
 ning which truest antiquity affords the nation, laboured 
 to contrive us a pedigree, as he thought, more noble. 
 These daughters by appointment of Danaus on the 
 marriage-night having murdered all their husbands, 
 except Linceus, whom his wife's loyalty saved, were 
 by him, at the suit of his wife their sister, not put to 
 death, but turned out to sea in a ship unmanned ; of 
 which whole sex they had incurred the hate : and as 
 the tale goes, were driven on this island. Where the 
 inhabitants, none but devils, as some write, or as others, 
 a lawless crew left here by Albion, without head or 
 governor, both entertained them, and had issue by 
 them a second breed of giants, who tyrannized the 
 isle, till Brutus came. 
 
 The eldest of these dames in their legend they call 
 Albina ; and from thence, for which cause the whole 
 ■cene was framed, will have the name Albion derived. 
 
 * IIoUiDsbed. J. 
 
 he 
 
 3| 
 
 Incredible it may seem so sluggish a conceit should 
 prove so ancient, as to be authori/cd by the elder Nin- 
 nius, reputed to have lived above a thousand years ago. 
 This I find not in him : but that Ilistion, sprung of 
 Japhet, had four sons; Francus, Romanus, Aieniannus, 
 and Britto, of whom the Britains;* as true, I believe, 
 as that those other nations, whose names are resembled, 
 came of the other three; if these dreams give not just 
 occasion to call in doubt the book itself, which bears 
 that title. 
 
 Hitherto the things themselves have given us a 
 warrantable dispatch to run them soon over. But now 
 of Brutus and his line, with the whole progeny of 
 kings, to the entrance of Julius Cspsar, we cannot so 
 easily be discharged ; descents of ancestry, long con- 
 tinued, laws and exploits not plainly seeming to be 
 borrowed, or devised, which on the common belief have< 
 wrought no small impression ; defended by many, de- 
 nied utterly by few. For what though Brutus and 
 the whole Trojan pretence were yielded up; (seeing^ 
 they who first devised to bring us from some noble 
 ancestor, were content at first with Brutus the consul; 
 till better invention, although not willing to forego thej 
 name, taught them to remove it higher into a mor 
 fabulous age, and bj' the same remove lighting on th« 
 Trojan tales in affectation to make the Britain of on* 
 original with the Roman, pitched there ;) yet those old* 
 and inborn names of successive kings, never any to 
 have been real persons, or done in their lives at least 
 some part of what so long hath been remembered, can- 
 not be thought without too strict an incredulity. 
 
 For these, and those causes above mentioned, that 
 which hath received approbation from so many, I have 
 chosen not to omit. Certain or uncertain, be that upon 
 the credit of those whom I must follow; so far as keeps 
 aloof from impossible and absurd, attested by ancient 
 writers from books more ancient, I refuse not, as the 
 due and proper subject of story. The principal author 
 is well known to be Geoffrey of Monmouth ; what he 
 was, and whence his authority, who in his age, or be- 
 fore him, have delivered the same matter, and such 
 like general discourses, will better stand in a treatise 
 by themselves. Allf of them agree in this, that Bru- 
 tus was the son of Silvius; he of Ascanius; whose 
 father was Eneas a Trojan prince, who at the burning 
 of that city, with his son Ascanius, and a collected 
 number that escaped, after long wandering on the sea, 
 arrived in Italy. Where at length by the assistance 
 of Latinus king of Latiam, who had given him his 
 daughter Lavinia, he obtained to succeed in that king- 
 dom, and left it to Ascanius, whose son Silvius (though 
 Roman histories deny Silvius to be the son of Ascanius) 
 had married secretly a niece of Lavinia. 
 
 She being with child, the matter became known to 
 Ascanius. Who commandinghis " magicians to inquire 
 by art, what sex the maid had conceived," had answer, 
 " that it was one who should be the death of both his 
 parents; and banished for the fact, should after all, in a 
 far country, attain the highest honour." The predic- 
 tion failed not, for in travail the mother died. And 
 
 f Ili-nry of Huntingdon, Matthew of Westminster. 
 
 J 
 
Book I. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 477 
 
 Brutus (the child was so called) at fifteen years of age, 
 atteiuliiig- his father to the chace, with an arrow unfor- 
 tunately killed him. 
 
 Banished therefore by his kindred, he retires into 
 Greece. Where meeting' with the race of Helenus king 
 Priam's son, held there in servile condition by Pandra- 
 sus then king, with them he abides. For Pyrrhus, in 
 revenge of his father slain at Troy, had brought thither 
 with him Helenus, and many others into servitude. 
 There Brutus among his own stock so thrives in virtue 
 and in arms, as renders him beloved to kings and great 
 captains, above all the youth of that land. Whereby 
 the Trojans not only began to hope, but secretly to 
 move him, that he would lead them the way to liberty. 
 They allege their numbers, and the promised help of 
 Assaracus a noble Greekish youth, by the mother's side 
 a Trojan ; whom for that cause his brother went about 
 to dispossess of certain castles bequeathed him by his 
 father. Brutus considering both the forces offered 
 him, and the strength of those holds, not unwillingly 
 consents. 
 
 First therefore having fortified those castles, he with 
 Assaracus and the whole multitude betake them to the 
 woods and hills, as the safest place from whence to ex- 
 postulate ; and in the name of all sends to Pandrasus 
 this message, " That the Trojans holding it unworthy 
 their ancestors to serve in a foreign kingdom had re- 
 treated to the woods ; choosing rather a savage life 
 than a slavish : if that displeased him, that then with 
 his leave they might depart to some other soil." 
 
 As this may pass with good allowance that the Tro- 
 jans might be many in these parts, (for Helenus was 
 by Pyrrhus made king of the Chaonians, and the sons 
 of Pyrrhus by Andromache Hector's wife, could not but 
 be powerful through all Epirus,) so much the more it 
 may be doubted, how these Trojans could be thus in 
 bondage, where they had friends and countrymen so 
 potent. But to examine these things with diligence, 
 were but to confute the fables of Britain, with the fa- 
 bles of Greece or Italy : for of this age, what we have 
 to say, as well concerning most other countries, as this 
 island, is equally under question. Be how it will, 
 Pandrasus not expecting so bold a message from the sons 
 of captives, gathers an array ; and marching towards 
 the woods, Brutus who had notice of his approach nigh 
 to the town called Sparatinum, (I know not what town, 
 but certain of no Greek name,) over night planting 
 himself there with good part of his men, suddenly sets 
 upon him, and with slaughter of the Greeks pursues 
 him to the passage of a river, which mine author names 
 Akalon, meaning perhaps Achelous or Acheron ; where 
 at the ford he overlays them afresh. This victory ob- 
 tained, and a sufficient strength left in Sparatinum, 
 Brutus with Antigonus, the king's brother, and his 
 friend Anacletus, whom he had taken in the fight, re- 
 turns to the residue of his friends in the thick woods ; 
 while Pandrasus with all speed recollecting, besieges 
 the town. Brutus to relieve his men besieged, who 
 earnestly called him, distrusting the sufficiency of bis 
 force, bethinks himself of this policy. Calls to him 
 Anacletus, and threatening iustant deatli else, both to 
 
 him and his friend Antigonus, enjoins him, that he 
 should go at the second hour of night to the Greekish 
 leagre, and tell the guards he had brought Antigonus 
 by stealth out of prison to a certain woody vale, unable 
 through the weight of his fetters to move him further, 
 entreating them to come speedily and fetch him in. 
 Anacletus to save both himself and his friend Antigonus, 
 swears this, and at a fit hour sets on alone toward the 
 camp ; is met, examined, and at last unquestionably 
 known. To whom, great profession of fidelity first 
 made, he frames his tale, as had been taught him ; and 
 they now fully assured, with a credulous rashness 
 leaving their stations, fared accordingly by the ambush 
 that there awaited them. Forthwith Brutus divided 
 his men into three parts, leads on in silence to the camp ; 
 commanding first each part at a several place to enter, 
 and forbear execution, till he with his squadron pos- 
 sessed of the king's tent, gave signal to them by trum- 
 pet. The sound whereof no sooner heard, but huge 
 havock begins upon the sleeping and unguarded enemy, 
 whom the besieged also now sallying forth, on the other 
 side assail. Brutus the while had special care to seize 
 and secure the king's person ; whose life still within 
 his custody, he knew was the surest pledge to obtain 
 what he should demand. Day appearing, he enters 
 the town, there distributes the king's treasury, and 
 leaving the place better fortified, returns with the king 
 his prisoner to the woods. Straight the ancient and 
 grave men he summons to council, what they should 
 now demand of the king. 
 
 After long debate Mempricius, one of the gravest, 
 utterly dissuading them from thought of longer stay in 
 Greece, unless they meant to be deluded with a subtle 
 peace, and the awaited revenge of those whose friends 
 they had slain, advises them to demand first the king's 
 eldest daughter lunogen in marriage to their leader 
 Brutus with a rich dowry, next shipping, money, and 
 fit provision for them all to depart the land. 
 
 This resolution pleasing best, the king now brought 
 in, and placed in a high seat, is briefly told, that on 
 these conditions granted, he might be free ; not granted 
 he must prepare to die. 
 
 Pressed with fear of death, the king readily yields ; 
 especially to bestow his daughter on whom he confessed 
 so noble and so valiant: offers them also the third part 
 of his kingdom, if they like to stay; if not, to be their 
 hostage himself, till he had made good his word. 
 
 The marriage therefore solemnized, and shipping 
 from all parts got together, the Trojans in a fleet, no 
 less written than three hundred four and twenty sail, 
 betake them to the wide sea : where with a prosperous 
 course, two days and a night bring them on a certain 
 island longbefore dispeopled and left waste by sea-rovers, 
 the name whereof was then I^ogecia, now unknown. 
 They who were sent out to discover, came at length to 
 a ruined city, where was a temple and image of Diana 
 that gave oracles : but not meeting first or last, save 
 wild beasts, they return with this notice to their ships ; 
 wishing their general would inquire of that oracle what 
 voyage to pursue. 
 
 Consultation had, Brutus taking with him Gerion 
 
478 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 his diviner, and twelve of the ancientest, with wanton 
 ceremonies before the inward shrine of the goddess, in 
 verse (as it seems the manner was) utters his request, 
 " Diva potens nemonim," &c. 
 
 Goddess of shades, and huntress, who at will 
 Walk'st on the rolling sphere, and through the deep 
 On thy third reign the earth look now, and tell 
 What land, what seat of rest thou bidd'st me seek. 
 What cettain seat, where 1 may worship thee 
 For aye, with temples vow'd, and virgin choirs. 
 
 To whom sleeping before the altar, Diana iu a vision 
 that night thus answered, " Brute sub occasum solis," 
 &c. 
 
 Brutus, far to the west, inth' ocean wide. 
 Beyond the realm of Gaul, a land there lies. 
 Seagirt it lies, where giants dwelt of old, 
 Now void it fits thy people ; thither bend 
 Thy course, there shalt thou find a lasting seat. 
 Where to thy sons another Troy shall rise ; 
 And kings be born of thee, whose dreaded might 
 Shall awe the world, and conquer nations bold. 
 
 These verses originally Greek, were put in Latin, 
 saith Virunnius, by Gildas a British poet, and him to 
 have lived under Claudius. Which granted true, adds 
 much to the antiquity of this fable ; and indeed the 
 Latin verses are much better, than of the age for Geof- 
 frey ap Arthur, unless perhaps Joseph of Exeter, the 
 only smooth poet of those times, befriended him. In 
 this, Diana overshot her oracle thus ending, " Ipsis 
 totius terrtE subditus orbis erit," That to the race of 
 Brute, kings of this island, the whole earth shall be 
 subject. 
 
 But Brutus, guided now, as he thought, by divine 
 conduct, speeds him towards the west ; and after some 
 encounters on the Afric side, arrives at a place on the 
 Tyrrhene sea ; where he happens to find the race of 
 those Trojans, who with Antenor came into Italy; and 
 Corinens, a man much famed, was their chief: though 
 by surer authors it be reported, that those Trojans with 
 Antenor were seated on the other side of Italy, on the 
 Adriatic, not the Tyrrhene shore. But these joining 
 company, and past the Herculean Pillars, at the mouth 
 of Ligeris in Aquitania cast anchor : where after some 
 discovery made of the place, Corineus, hunting nigh 
 the shore with his men, is by messengers of the king 
 GofTarius Pictus met, and questioned about his errand 
 there. Who not answering to their mind, Imbertus, 
 one of them, lets fly an arrow at Corineus, which he 
 avoiding, slays him : and the Pictavian himself here- 
 upon levying his whole force, is overthrown by Brutus, 
 and Corineus ; who with the battle-axe which he was 
 wont to manage against the Tyrrhene giants, is said 
 to have done marvels. But Goffarius having drawn to 
 his aid the whole country of Gaul, at that time governed 
 by twelve kings, puts his fortune to a second trial ; 
 wherein the Trojans, overborn by multitude, are driven 
 back, and besieged in their own camp, which by good 
 foresight was strongly situate. Whence Brutus un- 
 expectedly issuing out, and Corineus in the mean 
 while, whose device it was, assaulting them behind 
 fnim a wood, where he had conveyed his men the night 
 before : the Trojans are again rictors, but with the loss 
 
 of Turon a valiant nephew of Brutus : whose ashes, left 
 in that place, gave name to the city of Tours, built 
 there by the Trojans. Brutus finding now his powers 
 much lessened, and this yet not the place foretold hinj, 
 leaves Aquitain, and with an easy course arriving at 
 Totnessin Devonshire, quickly perceives here to be the 
 promised end of his labours. 
 
 The island, not yet Britain but Albion, was in a 
 manner desert and inhospitable ; kept only by a rem- 
 nant of grants, whose excessive force and tyranny had 
 consumed the rest. Them Brutus destroys, and to his 
 people divides the land, which with some reference to 
 his own name he thenceforth calls Britain. To Cori- 
 neus, Cornwall, as now we call it, fell by lot; the rather 
 by him liked, for that the hugcst giants in rocks and 
 caves were said to lurk still there; which kind of mon- 
 sters to deal with was his old exercise. 
 
 And here with leave bespoken to recite a grand fable, 
 though dignified by our best poets : while Brutus, on 
 a certain festival day solemnly kept on that shore, 
 where he first landed, was with the people in great 
 jollity and mirth, a crew of these savages breaking in 
 upon them, began on a sudden another sort of game, 
 than at such a meeting was expected. But at length 
 by many hands overcome, Goemagog the hugest, in 
 height twelve cubits, is reserved alive, that with him 
 Corineus, who desired nothing more, might try his 
 strength ; whom in a wrestle the giant catching aloft, 
 with a terrible hug broke three of his ribs : nevertheless 
 Corineus enraged, heaving hira up by main force, and 
 on his shoulders bearing him to the next high rock, 
 threw hinj headlong', all shattered, into the sea, and 
 left his name on the cliff, called ever since Langoema- 
 gog, which is to say, the giant's leap. 
 
 After this, Brutus in a chosen place builds Troja 
 Nova, changed in time to Trinovantum, now London ( 
 and began to enact laws ; Heli being then high priea 
 in Judeea : and having governed the whole isle twenty- 
 four years, died, and was buried in his new Troy. Hi 
 three sons, Locrine, Albanact, and Camber, divide th< 
 land by consent. Locrine had the middle part Loegriaj 
 Camber possessed Cambria, or Wales ; Albanact, Ali 
 bania, now Scotland. But he in the end by Humbe 
 king of the Hunds, who with a fleet invaded that land, 
 was slain in fight, and his people drove back into 
 Ijflegiia. Locrine and his brother go out against 
 Humber; who now marching onward, was by them, 
 defeated, and in a river drowned, which to this daj 
 retains his name. Among the spoils of his camp and 
 navy, were found certain young maids, and Estrildis 
 above the rest, passing fair, the daughter of a king in 
 Germany ; from whence Humber, as he went wasting 
 the sea coast, had led her captive : whom Locrinej 
 though before contracted to the daughter of Corineus 
 resolves to marry. But being forced and threatened 
 by Corineus, whose authority and power he feared| 
 Guendolen the daughter he yields to marry, but in 
 secret loves the other : and ofttimes retiring, as to som4 
 private sacrifice, through vaults and passages mad4 
 under ground, and seven years thus enjoying her, had 
 by her a daughter equally fair, whose name was Sabra. 
 
Book I. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 479 
 
 But when once his fear was off by the death of Corine- 
 us, not content with secret enjoyment, divorcing Guen- 
 dolen, he makes Estrildes now his queen. Guendolen, 
 all in rage, departs into Cornwall, where Madan, the 
 son she had by Locrine, was hitherto brought up by 
 Corineus his grandfather. And gathering an army of 
 her father's friends and subjects, gives battle to her 
 husband by the river Sture; wherein Locrine, shot 
 with an arrow, ends bis life. But not so ends the fury 
 of Guendolen ; for Estrildis, and her daughter Sabra, 
 she throws into a river : and, to leave a monument of 
 revenge, proclaims that the stream be thenceforth call- 
 ed after the damsel's name ; which, by length of time, 
 is changed now to Sabrina, or Severn. 
 
 Fifteen years she governs in behalf of her son ; then 
 resigning to him at age, retires to her father's dominion. 
 This, saith my author, was in the days of Samuel. 
 Madan hath the praise to have well and peacefully 
 ruled the space of forty years, leaving behind him two 
 sons, Mempricius, and Malim. Mempricius had first 
 to do with the ambition of his brother, aspiring to share 
 with him in the kingdom ; whom therefore, at a meet- 
 ing to compose matters, with a treachery, which his 
 cause needed not, he slew. 
 
 Nor was he better in the sole possession, whereof so 
 ill he could f ndure a partner, killing his nobles, and 
 those especially next to succeed him ; till lastly, given 
 over to unnatural lust, in the twentieth of his reign, 
 hunting in a forest, he was devoured by wolves. 
 
 His son Ebranc, a man of mighty strength and sta- 
 ture, reigned forty years. He first, after Brutus, wasted 
 Gaul ; and returning rich and prosperous, builded Ca- 
 erebranc, now York ; in Albania, Alclud, Mount Agned, 
 or the Castle of Maidens, now Edi>iburgh. He had 
 twenty sons and thirty daughters by twenty wives. His 
 daughters he sent to Silvius Alba into Italy, who be- 
 stowed them on his peers of the Trojan line. His sons, 
 under the leading of Assaracus their brother, won them 
 lands and signiories in Germany ; thence called from 
 these brethren, Germania ; a derivation too hastily 
 supposed, perhaps before the word Germanus, or the 
 Latin tongue was in use. Some who have described 
 Henault, as Jacobus Bergomas, and Lassabcus, are 
 cited to affirm, that Ebranc, in his war there, was by 
 Brunchildis, lord of Henault, put to the worse. 
 
 Brutus, therefore, surnamed Greenshield, succeeding, 
 to repair his father's losses, as the same Lessabeus re- 
 ports, fought a second battle in Henault, with Brun- 
 child, at the mouth of Scaldis, and encamped on the 
 river Hania. Of which our Spencer also thus sings : 
 
 Let Scaldis tell, and let tell Hania, 
 And let the marsh of Esthambruges tell 
 What colour were their waters that same day. 
 And all the moor 'twixt Elversham and Dell, 
 With blood of Henalois, which therein fell ; 
 How oft that day did sad Brunchildis see 
 The Greenshield dyed in dolorous vermeil, &c. 
 
 But Henault, and Brunchild, and Greenshield, seem 
 newer names than for a story pretended thus ancient. 
 Him succeeded Leil, a maintainer of peace and 
 
 d Called now Carlisle. 
 
 equity ; but slackened in his latter end, whence arose 
 some civil discord. He built, in the North, Cairleil ;«* 
 and in the days of Solomon. 
 
 Rudhuddibras, or Hudibras, appeasing the commo- 
 tions which his father could not, founded Caerkeynt or 
 Canterbury, Caerguent or Winchester, and Mount Pa- 
 ladur, now Septoniaor Shaftesbury: but this by others 
 is contradicted. 
 
 Bladud his son built Caerbadus or Bath, and those 
 medicinal waters he dedicated to Minerva ; in whose 
 temple there he kept fire continually burning. He 
 was a man of great invention, and taught necromancy; 
 till having made him wings to fly, he fell down upon 
 the temple of Apollo in Trinovant, and so died after 
 twenty years reign. 
 
 Hitherto, from father to son, the direct line hath run 
 on : but Leir, who next reigned, had only three daugh- 
 ters, and no male issue: governed laudibly, and built 
 Caerleir, now Leicester, on the bank of Sora. But at 
 last, falling through age, he determines to bestow his 
 daughters, and so among them to divide his kingdom. 
 Yet first, to try which of them loved him best, (a trial 
 that might have made him, had he known as wisely 
 how to try, as he seemed to know how much the trying 
 behooved him,) he resolves a simple resolution, to ask 
 them solemnly in order ; and which of them should 
 profess largest, her to believe. Gonorill the eldest, 
 apprehending too well her father's weakness, makes 
 answer, invoking Heaven, " That she loved him above 
 her soul." " Therefore," quoth the old man, overjoyed, 
 " since thou so honourest my declining age, to thee and 
 the husband whom thou shalt choose, I give the third 
 part of my realm." So fair a speeding, for a few words 
 soon uttered, was to Regan, the second, ample instruc- 
 tion what to say. She, on the same demand, spares no 
 protesting; and the gods must witness, that otherwise 
 to express her thoughts she knew not, but that *' She 
 loved him above all creatures ;" and so receives an 
 equal reward with her sister. But Cordeilla, the 
 youngest, though hitherto best beloved, and now before 
 her eyes the rich and present hire of a little easy sooth- 
 ing, the danger also, and the loss likely to betide plain 
 dealing, yet moves not from the solid purpose of a sin- 
 cere and virtuous answer. " Father," saith she, " my 
 love towards you is as my duty bids : what should a 
 father seek, what can a child promise more ? They, 
 who pretend beyond this, flatter." When the old man, 
 sorry to hear this, and wishing her to recall those 
 words, persisted asking ; with a loyal sadness at her 
 father's infirmity, but something, on the sudden, harsh, 
 and glancing rather at her sisters than speaking her 
 own mind, " Two ways only," saith she, " I have to 
 answer what you require me : the former, your com- 
 mand is, I should recant; accept then this other which 
 is left me ; look how much you have, so much is your 
 value, and so much I love you." " Then hear thou," 
 quoth Leir, now all in passion, " what thy ingratitude 
 hath gained thee ; because thou hast not reverenced 
 thy aged father equal to thy sisters, part in my king- 
 dom, or what else is mine, reckon to have none." And, 
 
480 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND 
 
 Book I. 
 
 without delay, g-ires in marriag'e his other daughters, 
 Gonorill to Maglaunus duke of Albania, Regan to 
 Henninus duke of Cornwal ; with them in present 
 half his kingdom; the rest to follow at his deatii. In 
 the mean while, fame was not sparing to divulge tlic 
 wisdom and otiier graces of Cordeilla, insomuch that 
 Aganippus, a great king in Gaul, (however he came by 
 bis Greek name, not found in any register of French 
 kings,) seeks her to wife ; and nothing altered at the 
 loss of her dowry, receives her gladly in such manner 
 as she was sent him. After this King Lcir, more and 
 more drooping with years, became an easy prey to his 
 daughters and their husbands ; who now, by daily en- 
 croachment, had seized the whole kingdom into their 
 hands : and the old king is put to sojourn with his 
 eldest daughter attended only by threescore knights. 
 But they in a short while grudged at, as too numerous 
 and disorderly for continual guests, are reduced to 
 thirty. Not brooking that affront, the old king betakes 
 him to his second daughter : but there also, discord 
 soon arising between the servants of differing masters 
 in one family, five only are suffered to attend him. 
 Then back again he returns to the other ; hoping that 
 she his eldest could not but have more pity on his gray 
 hairs : but she now refuses to admit him, unless he be 
 content with one only of his followers. At last the re- 
 membrance of his youngest, Cordeilla, comes to his 
 thoughts; and now acknowledging how true her words 
 had been, though with little hope from whom he had 
 so injured, be it but to pay her the last recompense she 
 can have from him, his confession of her wise fore- 
 warning, that so perhaps his misery, the proof and 
 experiment of her wisdom, might something soften her, 
 he takes his journey into France. Now might be seen 
 a difference between the silent, or downright spoken 
 affection of some children to their parents, and the 
 talkative obsequiousness of others ; while the hope of 
 inheritance overacts them, and on the tongue's end 
 enlarges their duty. Cordeilla, out of mere love, with- 
 out the suspicion of expected reward, at the message 
 only of her father in distress, pours forth true filial 
 tears. And not enduring either that her own, or any 
 other eye should see him in such forlorn condition as 
 his messenger declared, discreetly appoints one of her 
 trusted servants first to convey him privately towards 
 some good sea-town, there to array him, bathe him, 
 cherish him, furnish him with such attendance and 
 state as beseemed his dignity ; that then, as from his 
 first landing, he might send word of his arrival to her 
 husband Aganippus. Which done, with all mature and 
 requisite contrivance, Cordeilla, with the king her hus- 
 band, and all tlie barony of his realm, who then first 
 had news of his passing the sea, go out to meet him ; 
 and after all honourable and joyful entertainment, 
 Aganippus, as to his wife's father, and his royal guest, 
 surrenders him, during his abode there, the power and 
 disposal of his whole dominion : jtermitting his wife 
 Cordeilla to go with an army, and set her father upon 
 his throne. Wherein her piety so prospered, as that 
 she vanquished her impious sisters, with those dukes; 
 and Lelr again, as saitli tlie story, three years obtained 
 
 the crown. To whom, dying, Cordeilla, with all regal 
 solemnities, gave burial in the town of Leicester : and 
 then, as right heir succeeding, and her husband dead, 
 ruli'd the land five yeai-s in peace. Until Marganus 
 and Cunedagius, her two sisters' sons, not bearing that 
 a kingdom should be governed by a woman, in tlie 
 unseasonablest time to raise that quarrel against a wo- 
 man so worthy, make war against her, depose her, and 
 imprison her ; of which impatient, and now long un- 
 exercised to suffer, she there, as is related, killed her- 
 self The victors between them part the land ; but 
 Marganus, the eldest sister's son, who held, by agree- 
 ment, from the north side of Humber to Cathness, in- 
 cited by those about him, to invade all as his own right, 
 wars on Cunedagius, who soon met him, overcame, and 
 overtook him in a town of Wales, where he left his life, 
 and ever since his name to the place. 
 
 Cunedagius was now sole king, and governed with 
 much praise many years, about the time when Rome 
 was built. 
 
 Him succeeded Rivallo his son, wise also and fortu- 
 nate ; save what they tell us of three days raining 
 blood and swarms of stinging flies, whereof men died. 
 In order then Gurgustius, Jago or Lago, his nephew ; 
 Sisilius, Kinmarcus. Then Gorbogudo, whom others 
 name Gorbodego, and Gorbodion, who had two sons, 
 Ferrex, and Porrex. They, in the old age of their fa- 
 ther, falling to contend who should succeed, Porrex, 
 attempting by treachery his brother's life, drives him 
 into France ; and in his return, though aided with the 
 force of that country, defeats and slays him. But by 
 his mother Videna, who less loved him, is himself, 
 with the assistance of her women, soon after slain in 
 his bed : with whom ended, as is thought, the line of 
 Brutus. Whereupon the whole land, with civil broils, 
 was rent into five kingdoms, long time waging war 
 each on other; and some say fifty years. At lengthj 
 Dunwallo Molmutius, the son of Cloten king of CorU' 
 wal, one of the foresaid five, excelling in valour an 
 goodliness of person, after his father's decease, found 
 means to reduce again the whole island into a mo- 
 narchy; subduing the rest at opportunities. First, 
 Ymner king of Loegria, whom he slew ; then Rudau- 
 cus of Cambria, Staterius of Albania, confederate toge- 
 ther. In which fight Dunwallo is reported, while the 
 victory hung doubtful, to have used this art. He takes 
 with him 600 stout men, bids them put on the armour 
 of their slain enemies; and so unexpectedly approach- 
 ing the squadron, where those two kings had placed 
 themselves in fight, from that part which they thought 
 securest, assaults and dispatches them. Then display- 
 ing his own ensigns, which before he had concealed, 
 and sending notice to the other part of his army what 
 was done, adds to them new courage, and gains a final 
 victory. This Dunwallo was the first in Britain that 
 wore a crown of gold ; and therefore by some reputed 
 the first king. He established the Molmutine laws, fa- 
 mous among the English to this day; written long 
 after in Latin by Gildas, and in Saxon by King Al- 
 fred : so saith Geoffrey, but Gildas denies to have known 
 aught of the Britains before Coesar; much less knew 
 
 i 
 
Book 1. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 481 
 
 Alfred. These laws, whoever made them, bestowed on 
 temples the privilege of sanctuary; to cities also, 
 and the ways thither leading, yea to plows, granted a 
 kind of like refuge ; and made such riddance of thieves 
 and robbers, that all passages were safe. Forty years 
 he governed alone, and was buried nigh to the Temple 
 of Concord ; which he, to the memory of peace restored, 
 had built in Trinovant. 
 
 His two sons, Belinus and Brennus, contending 
 about the crown, by decision of friends, came at length 
 to an accord : Brennus to have the north of Humber, 
 Belinus the sovereignty of all. But the younger not 
 long so contented, that he, as they whispered to him, 
 whose valour had so oft repelled the invasions of Ceul- 
 phus the Morine duke, should now be subject to his 
 brother, upon new design sails into Norway ; enters 
 league and affinity with Elsing that king : wliich Be- 
 linus perceiving, in his absence dispossesses him of all 
 the north. Brennus, with a fleet of Norwegians, makes 
 towards Britain ; but encountered by Guithlac, the 
 Danish king, who, laying claim to his bride, pursued 
 him on the sea, his haste was retarded, and he bereft of 
 his spouse ; who, from the fight, by a sudden tempest, 
 was with the Danish king driven on Northumberland, 
 and brought to Belinus. Brennus, nevertheless, find- 
 ing means to recollect his navy, lands in Albania, and 
 gives battle to his brother in the wood Calaterium ; but 
 losing the day, escapes with one single ship into Gaul. 
 Meanwhile the Dane, upon his own offer to become 
 tributary, sent home with his new prize, Belinus re- 
 turns his thoughts to the administering of justice, and 
 the perfecting of his father's law. And to explain 
 what highways might enjoy the foresiid privileges, he 
 caused to be drawn out and paved fuur main roads to 
 the utmost length and breadth of the island, and two 
 others athwart; which are since attributed to the Ro- 
 mans. Brennus, on the other side, soliciting to his aid 
 the kings of Gaul, happens at last on Segiuus duke of 
 the AUobroges ; w here his worth, and comeliness of 
 person, won him the duke's daughter and heir. In 
 whose right he shortly succeeding, and, by obtained 
 leave, passing with a great host through the length of 
 Gaul, gets footing once again in Britain. Now was 
 Belinus unprepared : and now the battle ready to join, 
 Conuvenna, the mother of them both, all in a fright, 
 throws herself between ; and calling earnestly to Bren- 
 nus her son, whose absence had so long deprived her 
 of his sight, after embracements and tears, assails him 
 with such a motherly power, and the mention of things 
 so dear and reverend, as irresistibly wrung from him 
 all his enmity against Belinus. 
 
 Then are hands joined, reconciliation made firm, and 
 counsel held to turn their united preparations on fo- 
 reign parts. Thence that by these two all Gallia was 
 overrun, the story tells; and what they did in Italy, 
 and at Rome, (if these be they, and not Gauls, who 
 took that city,) the Roman authors can best relate. So 
 far from home I undertake not for the Monmouth 
 Chronicle; which here, against the stream of history, 
 carries up and down these brethren, now into Germany, 
 then again to Rome, pursuing Gabius and Porsena, 
 
 two unheard-of consuls. Thus much is more generally 
 believed, that both this Brennus, and another famous 
 captain, Britomarus, whom the epitomist Florus and 
 others mention, were not Gauls, but Britains ; the name 
 of the first in that tongue signifying a king, and of the 
 other a great Britain. However, Belinus, after a while, 
 returning home, the rest of his days ruled in peace, 
 wealth, and honour, above all his predecessors ; build- 
 ing some cities, of which one was Caerose upon Osca, 
 since Caerlegion ; beautifying others, as Trinovant, 
 with a gate, haven, and a tower, on the Thames, re- 
 taining yet his name; on the top whereof his ashes 
 are said to have been laid up in a golden urn. 
 
 After him Gurguntius Barbirus was king, mild and 
 just; but yet, inheriting his father's courage, he sub- 
 dued the Dacian, or Dane, who refused to pay the tri- 
 bute covenanted to Belinus for his enlargement. In his 
 return, finding about the Orkneys tliirty ships of Spain, 
 or Biscay, fraught witii men and women for a planta- 
 tion, whose captain also Bartholinus, wrongfully banish- 
 ed, as he pleaded, besought him tliat some part of his 
 territory might be assigned them to dwell in, he sent 
 with them certain of his own men to Ireland, which 
 then lay unpeopled, and gave tiiem that island, to hold 
 of him as in homage. He was buried in Caerlegion, a 
 city which he had walled about. 
 
 Guitheline his son is also remembered as a just and 
 good prince ; and his wife Martia to have excelled so 
 much in wisdom, as to venture upon a new institution of 
 laws. Which King Alfred translating, called Marchen 
 Leage ; but more truly thereby is meant the Mercian 
 law, not translated by Alfred, but digested or incorpor- 
 ated with the West-Saxon. In the minority of her 
 son she had the rule ; and then, as may be supposed, 
 brought forth these laws, not herself, for laws are mas- 
 culine births, but by the advice of her sagest counsel- 
 lors; and therein she might do virtuously, since it be- 
 fel her to supply the nonage of her son ; else nothing 
 more awry from the law of God and nature, than that 
 a woman should give laws to men. 
 
 Her son Sisilius coming to years, received the rule ; 
 then, in order, Kimarus ; then Danius, or Elanius, his 
 brother. Then Morindus, his son by Tanguestela, a 
 concubine, who is recorded a man of excessive strength, 
 valiant, liberal, and fair of aspect, but immanely cruel; 
 not sparing, in his anger, enemy or friend, if any 
 weapon were in his hand. A certain king of the Mo- 
 rines, or Picards, invaded Northumberland ; whose 
 army this king, though not wanting sufficient numbers, 
 chiefly by his own prowess overcame; but dishonoured 
 his victory by the cruel usage of his prisoners, whom 
 his own hands, or othei-s in his presence, put all to 
 several deaths : well fitted to such a bestial cruelty was 
 his end ; for hearing of a huge monster, that from the 
 Irish sea infested the coast, and, in the pride of his 
 strength, foolishly attempting to set manly valour 
 against a brute vastness, when his weapons were all in 
 vain, by that horrible mouth he was catched up and 
 devoured. 
 
 Gorbonian, the eldest of his five sons, than whom a 
 juster man lived not in Iiis age, was a great builder of 
 
482 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 temples, and gave to all what was tbeir due : to his 
 gods, devout worship ; to men of desert, honour and 
 preferment ; to the commons, encouragement in their 
 labours and trades, defence and protection from injuries 
 and oppressions ; so that the land flourished above her 
 neighbours; violence and wrong seldom was heard of. 
 His death was a general loss : be was buried in Tri- 
 novant. 
 
 Archigallo, the second brother, followed not his ex- 
 ample ; but depressed the ancient nobility ; and, bv 
 peeling the wealthier sort, stuffed his treasury, and 
 took the right way to be deposed. 
 
 Elidure, the next brother, surnamed the Pious, was 
 set up in bis place : a mind so noble, and so moderate, 
 as almost is incredible to hare been ever found. For, 
 having held the sceptre five years, hunting one day in 
 the forest of Calater, he chanced to meet his deposed 
 brother, wandering in a mean condition; who had 
 been long in vain beyond the seas, importuning foreign 
 aids to his restorement ; and was now, in a poor habit, 
 with only ten followers, privately returned to find sub- 
 sistence among bis secret friends. At the unexpected 
 sight of him, Elidure himself also then but thinly ac- 
 companied, runs to him with open arms; and, after 
 many dear and sincere welcomings, conveys him to the 
 city Alclud ; there bides him in his own bedchamber. 
 Afterwards feigning himself sick, summons all his 
 peers, as about greatest affairs ; where admitting them 
 one by one, as if his weakness endured not the disturb- 
 ance of more at once, causes them, willing or unwilling, 
 once more to swear allegiance to Archigallo. Whom, 
 afler reconciliation made on all sides, he leads to York ; 
 and, from his own head, places the crown on the head 
 of bis brother. Who thenceforth, vice itself dissolving 
 in him, and forgetting her firmest hold, with the ad- 
 miration of a deed so heroic, became a true converted 
 man ; ruled worthily ten years, died, and was buried 
 in Caerleir. Thus was a brother saved by a brother, 
 to whom love of a crown, the thing that so often daz- 
 zles and vitiates mortal men, for which thousands of 
 nearest blood iiave destroyed each other, was in respect 
 of brotherly deamess, a contemptible thing. 
 
 Elidure now in his own behalf re-assumes the go- 
 Temmcnt, and did as was worthy such a man to do. 
 When Providence, that so great a virtue might want 
 no sort of trial to make it more illustrious, stirs up Vi- 
 genius and Peredure, his youngest brethren, against 
 him who had deserved so nobly of that relation, as least 
 of all by a brother to be injured. Yet hira they defeat, 
 him they imprison in the tower of Trinovant, and di- 
 vide his kingdom ; the North to Peredure, the South to 
 Vigenius. After whose death Peredure obtaining all, 
 so much the better used his power, by how much the 
 worse he got it : so that Elidure now is hardly missed. 
 But yet, in all right owing to his elder the due place 
 whereof he had deprived him, fate would that he should 
 die first: and Elidure, after many years imprisonment, 
 is now the third time seated on the throne ; which at 
 last he enjoyed long in peace, finishing the interrupted 
 
 * Mitth. Westm. 
 t lluDlingd. I. i, 
 « VcrstcfaD denies this ; and says it was called so by the Saxons, from 
 
 course of his mild and just reign, as full of virtuous 
 deeds as days to his end. 
 
 After these five sons of Morindus, succeeded also 
 their sons in order. " Regin of Gorbonian, Marganus 
 of Archigallo, both good kings. But Enniaunus, his 
 brother, taking other courses, was after six years de- 
 posed. Then Idwallo, taught by a near example, go- 
 verned soberly. Then Runno, then Geruntius, he of 
 Peredure, this last the son of Elidure. From whose 
 loins (for that likely is the durable and surviving race 
 that springs of just progenitors) issued a long descent 
 of kings, whose names only for many successions, 
 without other memory, stand thus registered: Catcllus, 
 Coillus, Porrex, Cherin, and his three sons, Fulgenius, 
 Eldadus, and Andragius, his son Urianus ; Eliud, 
 Eledaucus, Clotenus, Gurguntius, Merianus, Bleduno, 
 Capis, Genus, Sisillius ; twenty kings in a continued 
 row, that either did nothing, or lived in ages that wrote 
 nothing ; at least, a foul pretermission in the author of 
 this, whether story or fable ; himself wearj , as seems, 
 of his own tedious tale. 
 
 But to make amends for this silence, Blegabredus 
 next succeeding, is recorded to have excelled all before 
 him in the art of musick ; opportunely, had he but left 
 us one song of his twenty predecessors' doings. 
 
 Yet after him nine more succeeded in name ; his 
 brother Archimailus, Eldol, Redion, Rederchius, Sa- 
 mulius, Penissel, Pir, Capoirus ; but Cliguellius, with 
 the addition of modest, wise, and just. 
 
 His son Heli reigned forty years, and had three sons, 
 Lud, Cassibelan, and Nennius. This Heli seems to be 
 the same whom Ninius, in his Fragment, calls Mino-, 
 can ; for him he writes to be the father of Cassibelan.l 
 Lud was he who enlarged and walled about Trinovant ;■! 
 there kept his court, made it the prime city, and calledt 
 it from his own name Caerlud, or Lud's town, now 
 London. Which, as is alleged out of Gildas, became 
 matter of great dissension betwixt him and his brother 
 Nennius ; who took it heinously that the name of Troy, 
 their ancient country, should be abolished for any new 
 one. Lud was hardy, and bold in war ; in peace, a 
 jolly feaster. He conquered many islands of the sea, 
 saith Huntingdon,'^ and was buried by the gate, which 
 from thence we call Ludgate.* His two sons. Andro- 
 gens and Tenuantius, were left to the tuition of Cassi- 
 belan ; whose bounty and high demeanour so wrought 
 with the common people, as got hira easily the king-j 
 dom transferred upon himself. He nevertheless, coa>j 
 tinning to favour and support his nephews, confer 
 freely upon Androgeus London with Kent ; upoi 
 Tenuantius, Cornwal ; reserving a superiority botl 
 over them, and all the other princes to himself, till thej 
 Romans for awhile circumscribed his power. Thi 
 far, though leaning only on the credit of GeofTrej 
 Monmouth, and his assertors, I yet, for the specified 
 causes, have thought it not beneath my purpose to re- 
 late what I found. Whereto I neither oblige the belief 
 of other person, nor overhastily subscribe mine own. 
 Nor have I stood with others computing or collating j 
 
 Lud, io our ancirnt language, people, and gate, cua/i porta populi ; of ali 
 the gates ot the city, that having the greatest passage ot CMK>ple ; especiall] 
 t>efore Newgate was built, which was about the reign of Henry II. 
 
Book II 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 483 
 
 years and chronologies, lest I should be vainly curious 
 about the time and circumstance of things, whereof the 
 substance is so much in doubt. By this time, like one 
 who had set out on his way by night, and travelled 
 through a region of smooth or idle dreams, our history 
 now arrives on the confines, where daylight and truth 
 meet us with a clear dawn, representing to our view, 
 though at a far distance, true colours and shapes. 
 For albeit Caesar, whose authority we are now first to 
 follow, wanted not who taxed him of misrepresenting in 
 his Commentaries, yea in his civil war against Pompey, 
 much more, may we think, in the British affairs, of 
 whose little skill in writing he did not easily hope to 
 be contradicted ; yet now, in such variety of good au- 
 thors, we hardly can miss, from one hand or other, to 
 be sufficiently informed, as of things past so long 
 ago. But this will better be referred to a second dis- 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK. 
 
 I AM now to write of what befel the Britains from 
 fifty and three years before the birth of our Saviour, 
 when first the Romans came in, till the decay and ceas- 
 ing of that empire ; a story of much truth, and for the 
 first hundred years and somewhat more, collected with- 
 out much labour. So many and so prudent were the 
 writers, which those two, the ci vilest and the wisest of 
 European nations, both Italy and Greece, afforded to 
 the actions of that puissant city. For worthy deeds 
 are not often destitute of worthy relaters : as by a cer- 
 tain fate, great acts and great eloquence have most 
 commonly gone hand in hand, equalling and honouring 
 each other in the same ages. It is true, that in obscurest 
 times, by shallow and unskilful writers, the indistinct 
 noise of many battles and devastations of many king- 
 doms, overrun and lost, hath come to our ears. For 
 what wonder, if in all ages ambition and the love of 
 rapine hath stirred up greedy and violent men to bold 
 attempts in wasting and ruining wars, which to poste- 
 rity have left the work of wild beasts and destroyers, 
 rather than the deeds and monuments of men and con- 
 querors ? But he whose just and true valour uses the 
 necessity of war and dominion not to destroy, but to 
 prevent destruction, to bring in liberty against tyrants, 
 law and civility among barbarous nations, knowing 
 that when he conquers all things else, he cannot conquer 
 Time or Detraction, wisely conscious of this his want, 
 as well as of his worth not to be forgotten or concealed, 
 honours and hath recourse to the aid of eloquence, his 
 friendliest and best supply; by whose immortal re- 
 cord his noble deeds, which else were transitory, become 
 fixed and durable against the force of years and gene- 
 rations, he fails not to continue through all posterity, 
 over Envy, Death, and Time also victorious. Therefore 
 when the esteem of science and liberal study waxes low 
 in the commonwealth, we may presume that also there 
 all civil virtue and worthy action is grown as low to 
 
 a Suef. vit. Caes. 
 2 I 
 
 a decline : and then eloquence as it were consorted in 
 the same destiny, with the decrease and fall of virtue, 
 corrupts also and fades ; at least resigns her office of 
 relating to illiterate and frivolous historians, such as 
 the persons themselves both deserve, and are best pleas- 
 ed with ; whilst they want either the understanding 
 to choose better, or the innocence to dare invite the 
 examining and searching style of an intelligent and 
 faithful writer to the survey of their unsound exploits, 
 better befriended by obscurity than fame. As for these, 
 the only authors we have of British matters, while the 
 power of Rome reached hither, (for Gildas affirms that 
 of the Roman times no British writer was in his days 
 extant, or if any were, either burnt by enemies or 
 transported with such as fled tlie Pictish and Saxon 
 invasions,) these therefore only Roman authors there 
 be, who in the Latin tongue have laid together as much, 
 and perhaps more than was requisite to a history of 
 Britain. So that were it not for leaving an unsightly 
 gap so near to the beginning, I should have judged 
 this labour, wherein so little seems to be required above 
 transcription, almost superfluous. Notwithstanding 
 since I must through it, if aught by diligence may be 
 added or omitted, or by other disposing may be more 
 explained or more expressed, I shall assay. 
 
 Julius Csesar (of whom, and of the Roman free state 
 more than what appertains, is not here to be discours- 
 ed) having subdued most part of Gallia, which bj a 
 potent faction he had obtained of the senate as his pro- 
 vince for many years, stirred up with a desire of adding 
 still more glory to his name, and the whole Roman 
 empire to his ambition ; some * say, with a far meaner 
 and ignobler, the desire of British pearls, whose big- 
 ness he delighted to balance in his hand ; determines, 
 and that upon no unjust pretended occasion, to try his 
 force in the conquest also of Britain. For he under- 
 stood that the Britains in most of his Gallian wars had 
 sent supplies against him ; had received fugitives of 
 the Bellovaci his enemies ; and were called over to 
 aid the cities of Armorica, which had the year before 
 conspired all in a new rebellion. Therefore C'Eesar,^ 
 though now the summer well nigh ending, and the 
 season unagreeable to transport a war, yet judged it 
 would be great advantage, only to get entrance into 
 the isle, knowledge of men, the places, the ports, the 
 accesses ; which then, it seems, were even to the Gauls 
 our neighbours almost unknown. For except mer- 
 chants and traders, it is not oft,'= saith he, that any use 
 to travel thither; and to those that do, besides the sea- 
 coast, and the ports next to Gallia, nothing else is 
 known. But here I must require, as Pollio did, the 
 diligence, at least the memory, of Csesar : for if it were 
 true, as they of Rhemes told him, that Divitiacus, not 
 long before a puissant king of the Soissons, had Britain 
 also under his command, besides the Belgian colonies 
 which he affirms to have named, and peopled many 
 provinces there ; if also the Britains had so frequently 
 given them aid in all their wars ; if lastly, the Druid 
 learning honoured so much among them, were first 
 taught them out of Britain, and they who soonest 
 
 b Year before Christ 33. c C«es. Com. 1. 1. 
 
484 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 would attain Uiat discipline, sent hither to learn ; '^ it 
 appears not how Britain at that time should be so ut- 
 terly unknown in Gallia, or onlj known to merchants, 
 yea to them so little, that being' called toffcther from 
 all parts, none could be found to inform Cti-sar of what 
 bigness the isle, what nations, how {freat, what use of 
 war they had, what laws, or so much as what commo- 
 dious havens for bigger vessels. Of all which things 
 as it were then first to make discovery, he sends Caius 
 Volusenus, in a long- galley, with command to return 
 as soon as this could be effected. He in the mean 
 time with his whole power draws nigh to the Morine 
 coast, whence the shortest passag-e was into Britain. 
 Hither his navy, which he used against the Armoricans, 
 and what else of shipping can be provided, he draws 
 together. This known in Britain, the embassadors 
 are sent from many of the states there, who promise 
 hostages and obedience to the Roman empire. Them, 
 after audience given, Ccesar as largely promising and 
 exhorting to continue in that mind, sends home, and 
 with them Comius of Arras, whom he had made king 
 of that country, and now secretly employed to gain a 
 Roman party among' the Britains, in as many cities as 
 he found inclinable, and to tell them that he himself 
 was speeding thither. Volusenus, with what disco- 
 very of the island he could make from aboard his ship, 
 not daring^ to venture on the shore, within five davs re- 
 turns to Coesar. Who soon after, with two legions, 
 ordinarily amounting, of Romans and their allies, to 
 about 25,000 foot, and 4500 horse, the foot in 80 ships 
 of burden, the horse in 18, besides what g'alleys were 
 appointed for his chief commanders, sets off, about the 
 third watch of night, with a good gale to sea; leaving 
 behind liim Sulpitius Rufus to make good the port with 
 a sufficient strength. But the horse, whose appointed 
 shipping lay windbound eight mile upward in another 
 haven, had much troubFe to embark. CsEsar, now 
 within sight of Britain, beholds on every hill multi- 
 tudes of armed men ready to forbid his landing ; and 
 * Cicero writes to his friend Atticus, that the accesses of 
 the island were wondrously fortified with strong works 
 or moles. Here from the fourth to the ninth hour of 
 day he awaits at anchor the coming up of his whole 
 fleet. Meanwhile, with his legates and tribunes, con- 
 sulting and giving' order to fit all things for what 
 might happen in such a various and floating water- 
 fight as was to be expected. This place, which was a 
 narrow bay, close environed with hills, appearing no 
 way commodious, he removes to a plain and open 
 shore eight miles distant ; commonly supposed about 
 Deal in Kent.^ Which when the Britains perceived, 
 their horse and chariots, as then they used in fight 
 scowering before, their main power speeding after, 
 some thick upon the shore, others not tarrying to be 
 assailed, ride in among the waves to encounter, and 
 assault the Romans even under their ships, with such 
 a bold and free hardihood, that Ceesar himself between 
 confessing and excusing that his soldiers were to come 
 down from their ships, to stand in water heavy armed, 
 and to fight at once, denies not but that the terror of 
 
 d C.T». Com. I. 4. c Cic. AM. I. 4. Ep. I?. f Camden. 
 
 such new and resolute opposition made them forget 
 their wonted valour. To succour which he commands 
 his galleys, a sight unusual to the Britains, and more 
 apt for motion, drawn from the bigger vessels, to row 
 against the open side of the enemy, and thence with 
 slings, engines, and darts, to beat them back. But 
 neither yet, though amazed at the strangeness of those 
 new seacastles, bearing up so near, and so swiftly as 
 almost to overwhelm them, the hurtling of oars, the 
 battering of fierce engines against their bodies barely 
 exposed, did the Britains give much ground, or the Ro- 
 mans gain ; till he who bore the eagle of the tenth 
 legion, yet in the galleys, first beseeching his gods, 
 said thus aloud, " Leap down soldiers, unless you mean 
 to betray 3'our ensign ; I for my part will perform what 
 I owe to the commonwealth and my general." This 
 uttered, overboard he leaps, and with his eagle fiercely 
 advanced runs upon the enemy ; the rest heartening 
 one another not to admit the dishonour of so nigh losing 
 their chief standard, follow him resolutely. Now was 
 fought eagerly on both sides. Ours who well knew 
 their own advantages, and expertly used them, now in 
 the shallows, now on the sand, still as the Romans went 
 trooping to their ensigns, received them, dispatched 
 them, and with the help of their horse, put them every 
 where to great disorder. But Coesar causing all his 
 boats and shallops to be filled with soldiers, commanded; 
 to ply up and down continually with relief where they 
 saw need ; whereby at length all the foot now disem- 
 barked, and got together in some order on firm ground, 
 with a more steady charge put the Britains to flight: 
 but wanting all their horse, whom the winds yet with- 
 held from sailing, they were not able to make pur- 
 suit. In this confused fight,* Scaeva a Roman soldier 
 having pressed too far among the Britains, and beset 
 round, after incredible valour shown, single against a 
 multitude, swam back safe to his general ; and in 
 the place that rung with his praises, earnestly besought 
 pardon for his rash adventure against discipline; which 
 modest confessing after no bad event, for such a deed, 
 wherein valour and ingenuity so much outweighed 
 transgression, easily made amends and preferred him 
 to be a centurion. Coesar also is brought in by Julian,'' 
 attributing to himself the honour (if it were at all an 
 honour to that person which he sustained) of being the 
 first that left his ship, and took land : but this were to 
 make Coesar less understand w hat became him than 
 Scoeva. The Britains finding themselves mastered in 
 fight, forthwith send ambassadors to treat of peace, 
 promising to give hostages, and to be at command. 
 With them Comius of Arras also returned ; whom hi- 
 therto, since his first coming from Coesar, the}- had de- 
 tained in prison as a spy : the blame whereof they lay 
 on the common people ; for whose violence, and their 
 own imprudence, they crave pardon. Coesar complain- 
 ing they had first sought peace, and then without cause 
 had begun war, yet content to pardon them, commands 
 hostages : whereof part they bring in straight, others, 
 far up in the country to be sent for, they promise in a 
 few days. Meanwhile the people disbanded and sent 
 
 g Val'T. Max. PluUrcti. Ii Id CKsaribu». 
 
Book II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 485 
 
 l)on]e, many princes and chief men from all parts of 
 the isle submit themselves and their cities to the dis- 
 pose of CsBsar, who lay then encamped, as is thought, 
 on Barham down. Thus had the Britains made their 
 peace; when suddenly an accident unlooked for put 
 new counsels into their minds. Four days after the 
 coming' of Csesar, those eighteen shipsof burden, which 
 from the upper haven had taken in all the Roman 
 horse, borne with a soft wind to the very coast, in sight 
 of the Roman camp, were by a sudden tempest scat- 
 tered and driven back, some to the port from whence 
 they loosed, others down into the west country; who 
 finding there no safety either to land or to cast anchor, 
 chose rather to commit themselves again to the trou- 
 bled sea ; and, as Orosius reports^ were most of them 
 cast away. The same night, it being full moon, the 
 galleys left upon dry land, were, unaware to the Ro- 
 mans, covered with a springtide, and the greater ships, 
 that lay off at anchor, torn and beaten with waves, to 
 the great perplexity of Caesar, and his whole army; 
 who now had neither shipping left to convey them back, 
 nor any provision made to stay here, intending to have 
 wintered in Gallia. All this the Britains well perceiv- 
 ing, and by the compass of his camp, which without 
 baggage appeared the smaller, guessing at his num- 
 bers, consult together, and one by one slyly withdraw- 
 ing from the camp, where they were waiting the con- 
 clusion of a peace, resolve to stop all provisions, and to 
 draw out the business till winter. Ciesar, though ig- 
 norant of what they intended, yet from the condition 
 wherein he was, and their other hostages not sent, sus- 
 pecting what was likely, begins to provide apace, all 
 that might be, against what might happen ; lays in 
 com, and with materials fetched from the continent, 
 and what was left of those ships which were past help, 
 he repairs the rest. So that now by the incessant la- 
 bour of his soldiers, all but twelve were again made 
 serviceable. While these things are doing, one of the 
 legions being sent out to forage, as was accustomed, 
 and no suspicion of war, while some of the Britains 
 were remaining in the country about, others also going 
 and coming freely to tiie Roman quarters, they who 
 were in station at the camp gates sent speedily word 
 to CtEsar, that from that part of the country, to which 
 the legion went, a greater dust than usual was seen to 
 rise. Caesar guessing the matter, commands the co- 
 horts of guard to follow him thither, two others to suc- 
 ceed in their stead, the rest all to arm and follow. They 
 had not marched long, when Caesar discerns his legion 
 sore overcharged : for the Britains not doubting but 
 that their enemies on the morrow would be in that 
 place, which only they had left unreaped of all their 
 harvest, had placed an ambush ; and while they were 
 dispersed and busiest at their labour, set upon them, 
 killed some, and routed the rest. The manner of 
 their fight was from a kind of chariots ; wherein riding 
 about and throwing darts, with the clutter of their 
 horse, and of their wheels, they ofttimes broke the 
 rank of their enemies; then retreating among the horse, 
 and quitting their chariots, they fought on foot. The. 
 i Dion, Caesar Com. 5. 
 
 charioteers in the mean while somewhat aside from the 
 battle, set themselves in such order that their masters 
 at any time oppressed with odds, might retire safely 
 thither, having performed with one person both the 
 nimble service of a horseman, and the stedfast duty of 
 a foot soldier. So much they could with their chariots 
 by use and exercise, as riding on the speed down a steep 
 hill, to stop suddenly, and with a short rein turn swiftly, 
 now running on the beam, now on the yoke, then in 
 the seat. With this sort of new skirmishing the Ro- 
 mans now over-matched and terrified, Ccpsar with op- 
 portune aid appears; for then the Britains make a 
 stand : but he considering that now was not fit time to 
 ofltr battle, while his men were scarce recovered of so 
 late a fear, only keeps his ground, and soon after leads 
 back his legions to the camp. Farther action for many 
 days following was hindered on both sides by foul 
 weather; in which time the Britains dispatching mes- 
 sengers round about, learn to how few the Romans 
 were reduced, what hope of praise and booty, and now, 
 if ever, of freeing themselves from the fear of like in- 
 vasions hereafter, by making these an example, if they 
 could but now uncamp their enemies; at this intima- 
 tion multitudes of horse and foot coming down from all 
 parts, make towards the Romans. Caesar foreseeing 
 that the Britains, though beaten and put to flight, 
 would easily evade his foot, yet with no more than 
 thirty horse, which Comius had brought over, draws 
 out his men to battle, puts again the Britains to flight, 
 pursues with slaughter, and returning bums and lays 
 waste all about. Whereupon embassadors the same 
 day being sent from the Britains to desire peace, Ctesar 
 as his aflTairs at present stood, for so great a breach 
 of faith, only imposes on them double the former hos- 
 tages to be sent after him into Gallia : and because 
 September was nigh half spent, a season not fit to 
 tempt the sea with his weatherbeaten fleet, the same night 
 with a fair wind he departs towards Belgia ; whither 
 two only of the British cities sent hostages, as they pro- 
 mised, the rest neglected. But at Rome when the news 
 came of Caesar's acts here, whether it were esteemed 
 a conquest or a fair escape, supplication of twenty days 
 is decreed by the senate, as either for an exploit done, 
 or a discovery made, wherein both Ciesar and the Ro- 
 mans gloried not a little, though it brought no benefit 
 either to him or to the commonwealth. 
 
 The winter following,' Ctesar, as his custom was, 
 going into Italy, whenas he saw that most of the Bri- 
 tains regarded not to send their hostages, appoints his 
 legates whom he left in Belgia, to provide what pos- 
 sible shipping they could either build, or repair. Low 
 built they were to be, as thereby easier both to freight, 
 and to hale ashore ; nor needed to be higher, because 
 the tide so often changing, was observed to make the 
 billows less in our sea than those in the Mediterranean: 
 broader likewise they were made, for the better trans- 
 porting of horses, and all other freightage, being in- 
 tended chiefly to that end. These all about six hundred 
 in a readiness, with twenty-eight ships of burden, and 
 what with adventurers, and other hulks about two hun- 
 
486 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 dred, Colta one of the legates wrote theni,as Athenteus 
 affirms, in all one thousand ; Ccesar from port Iccius, a 
 passa;;fe of some tliirty mile over, leaving' behind him 
 Labienus to guard the haven, and for other supply at 
 need, with five legions, th(»ugh but two thousand horse, 
 about sunset hoisting sail with a slack south-west, at 
 midnight was becalmed. And finding when it was 
 light, that the whole navy lying on the current, had 
 fallen off from the isle, which now they could descry on 
 their left hand ; by the unwearied labour of his sol- 
 diers, who refused not to tug the oar, and kept course 
 with ships under sail, he bore up as near as might be, 
 to the same place where he had landed the year before ; 
 where about noon arriving,'' no enemy could be seen. 
 For the Britons, which in great number, as was after 
 known, had been there, at sight of so huge a fleet durst 
 not abide. Ctesar forthwith landing his army, and en- 
 camping to his best advantage, some notice being 
 g'iven him by those he took, where to find his enemy ; 
 with the whole power, save only ten cohorts, and three 
 hundred horse, left to Quintus Atrius for the guard 
 of his ships, about the third watch of the same night, 
 marches up twelve miles into the country. And at 
 length by a river, commonly thought tiie Stowre in 
 Kent, espies embattled the British forces. They with 
 their horses and chariots advancing to the higher 
 banks, oppose the Romans in their march, and begin 
 the fight; but repulsed by the Roman cavalry, give back 
 into the woods to a place notably made strong both by 
 art and nature ; which, it seems, had been a fort, cv 
 hold of strength raised heretofore in time of wars among 
 themselves. For entrance, and access on all sides, by 
 the felling of huge trees overthwart one another, was 
 quite barred up ; and within these the Britons did their 
 utmost to keep out the enemy. But the soldiers of the 
 seventh legion locking all their shields together like a 
 roof close over head, and others raising a mount, with- 
 out much loss of blood took the place, and drove them 
 all to forsake the woods. Pursuit they made not long, 
 as being through ways unknown ; and now evening 
 came on, which they more wisely spent in choosing 
 out where to pitch and fortify their camp that night. 
 The next morning Caesar had but newly sent out his 
 men in three bodies to pursue, and the last no further 
 gone than yet in sight, when horsemen all in post from 
 Quintus Atrius bring word to Csesar, that almost all 
 his ships in a tempest that night had suffered wreck, 
 and lay broken upon the shore. Caesar at this news 
 recalls his legions, himself in all haste riding back to 
 the seaside, beheld with his eyes the ruinous prospect. 
 About forty vessels were sunk and lost, the residue so 
 torn and shaken, as not to be new-rigged without much 
 labour. Straight he assembles what number of ship- 
 wrights either in his own legions or from beyond sea 
 could be summoned; appoints Labienus on the Belgian 
 side to build more; and with a dreadful industry often 
 days, not respiting the soldiers day or night, drew up 
 all his ships, and intrenched them round within the 
 circuit of his camp. This done, and leaving to their 
 defence the same streng^ as before, he returns with 
 
 k Before tbe birth of Christ, K. 
 
 his whole forces to the same wood, where he had de- 
 feated the Britons; who preventing him with greater 
 powers than before, had now repossessed themselves of 
 the place, under Cassibelan their chief leader : whose 
 territory from the states bordering on the sea was 
 divided by the river Thames about eighty miles in- 
 ward. With him formerly other cities had continual 
 war ; but now in the common danger had all made 
 choice of him to be their general. Here the British 
 horse and charioteers meeting with the Roman cavalry 
 fought stoutly; and at first, something overmatched, 
 they retreat to the near advantage of their woods and 
 hills, but still followed by the Romans, made head 
 again, cut off the forwardest among them, and after 
 some pause, while CiEsar, who thought the day's work 
 had been done, was busied about the intrenching of his 
 camp, march out again, give fierce assault to the very 
 stations of his guards and sentries ; and while the main 
 cohorts of two legions, that were sent to the alarm, 
 stood within a small distance of each other, terrified at 
 the newness and boldness of their fight, charged back 
 again through the midst, without loss of a man. Of 
 the Romans that day was slain Quintus Laberius Durus 
 a tribune ; the Britons having fought their fill at the 
 very entrance of Caesar's camp, and sustained the re- 
 sistance of his whole army intrenched, gave over the 
 assault. Caesar here acknowledges, that the Roman 
 way both of arming, and of fighting, was not so well 
 fitted against this kind of enemy ; for that the foot in 
 heavy armour could not follow their cunning flight, and 
 durst not by ancient discipline stir from their ensign ; 
 and the horse alone disjoined from the legions, against 
 a foe that turned suddenly upon them with a mixed 
 encounter both of horse and foot, were in equal danger 
 both following and retiring. Besides their fashion 
 was, not in great bodies, and close order, but in small 
 divisions and open distances to make their onset; ap- 
 pointing others at certain spaces, now to relieve and 
 bring off the weary, now to succeed and renew the con- 
 flict; which argued no small experience, and use of 
 arms. Next day the Britons afar off upon the hills ; 
 begin to show themselves here and there, and though 
 less boldly than before, to skirmish with the Roman 
 horse. But at noon Ccesar having sent out three ' 
 legions, and all his horse, with Trebonius the legate, 
 to seek fodder, suddenly on all sides they set upon the 
 foragers, and charge up after them to the very legions, 
 and their standards. The Romans with great courage 
 beat them back, and in the chace, being well seconded 
 by the legions, not giving them time either to rally, to 
 stand, or to descend from their chariots as they wer 
 wont, slew many. From this overthrow, the Britoni 
 that dwelt farther off betook them home ; and came nc 
 more after that time with so great a power against 
 Caesar. Whereof advertised, he marches onward to 
 the frontiers of Cassibelan,' which on this side w« 
 bounded by the Thames, not passable except in on* 
 place, and that difficult, about Coway-stakes near Oat"< 
 lands, as is conjectured. Hither coming he descric 
 on the other side g^at forces of the enemy, placed ii 
 
 1 Ckmden. 
 
Book II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 487 
 
 good array ; the bank set all with sharp stakes, others 
 in the bottom, covered with water; whereof the marks, 
 in Beda's time, were to be seen, as he relates. This 
 having- learned by such as were taken, or had run to 
 him, he first commands his horse to pass over ; then his 
 foot, who wading- up to the neck, went on so resolutely 
 and so fast, that they on the other side, not enduring- 
 the violence, retreated and fled. Cassibelan no more 
 now in hope to contend for victory, dismissing- all but 
 four thousand of those charioteers, through woods and 
 intricate ways attends their motion ; where the Romans 
 are to pass, drives all before him ; and with continual 
 sallies upon the horse, where they least expected, cut- 
 ting off some and terrifying others, compels them so 
 close together, as gave them no leave to fetch in prey 
 or booty without ill success. Whereupon Csesar strictly 
 commanding all not to part from the legions, had 
 nothing left him in his way but empty fields and 
 houses, which he spoiled and burnt. Meanwhile the 
 Trinobantes, a state or kingdom, and perhaps the great- 
 est then among the Britons, less favouring Cassibelan, 
 send ambassadors, and yield to Caesar upon this reason. 
 Imraanuentius had been their king ; him Cassibelan 
 had slain, and purposed the like to Mandubratius his 
 son, whom Orosius calls Androgorius, Beda Androgius; 
 but the youth escaping by flight into Gallia, put him- 
 self under the protection of Csesar. These entreat, that 
 Mandubratius may be still defended, and sent home to 
 succeed in his father's right. Ctesar sends him, de- 
 mands forty hostages and provision for bis army, which 
 tbey immediately bring in, and have their confines 
 protected from the soldiers. By their example the 
 Cenimagni, Segontiaci, Ancalitcs, Bibroci, Cassi (so I 
 write them, for the modern names are but guessed) on 
 like terms make their peace. By them he learns that 
 the town of Cassibelan, supposed to be Verulam, was 
 not far distant; fenced about with woods and marshes, 
 well stuffed with men and much cattle. For towns 
 then in Britain were only woody places ditched round, 
 and with a mud wall encompassed against the inroads 
 of enemies. Thither goes Ctesar with his legions, and 
 though a place of great strength both by art and 
 nature, assaults it in two places. The Britons after 
 some defence fled out all at another end of the town ; 
 in the flight many were taken, many slain, and great 
 store of cattle found there. Cassibelan for all these 
 losses yet deserts not himself; nor was yet his authority 
 so much impaired, but that in Kent, though in a man- 
 ner possessed by the enemy, his messengers and com- 
 mands find obedience enough to raise all the people. 
 By his direction, Cingetorix, Carvilius, Taximagulus, 
 and Segonax, four kings reigning in those countries 
 which lie upon the sea, lead them on to assault that 
 camp, wherein the Romans had entrenched their ship- 
 ping : but tiiey whom CfBsar left there issuing out slew 
 many, and took prisoner Cingetorix a noted leader, 
 ■without loss of their own. Cassibelan after so many 
 defeats, moved especially by revolt of the cities from 
 him, their inconstancy and falsehood one to another, 
 uses mediation by Comius of Arras to send ambassadors 
 
 m Pliuy. n Oros. lib. 6,c. 7. and 8. o Dion, Mela, Caesar. 
 
 about treaty of yielding. Caesar, who had determined 
 to winter in the continent, by reason that Gallia was 
 unsettled, and not much of the summer now behind, 
 commands him only hostages, and what yearly tribute 
 the island should pay to Rome, forbids him to molest 
 the Trinobantes, or Mandubratius ; and with his hos- 
 tages, and a great number of captives, he puts to sea, 
 having at twice embarked his whole army. At his return 
 to Rome, as from a glorious enterprise, he offers to Venus, 
 the patroness of his family, a corslet of British pearls.™ 
 Howbeit other ancient writers have spoken more 
 doubtfully of Csesar's victories here; and that in plain 
 terms he fled from hence; for which the common verse 
 in Lucan, with divers passages here and there in Taci- 
 tus, is alleged. Paulus Orosius," who took what he 
 wrote from a liistory of Suetonius now lost, writes, that 
 Cuesar in his first journey, entertained with a sharp 
 fight, lost no small number of his foot, and by tempest 
 nigh all his horse. Dion affirms, that once in the 
 second expedition all his foot were routed ; Orosius 
 that another time all his horse. The British autlior, 
 whom I use only then when others are all silent, hath 
 many trivial discourses of Coesar's being here, which 
 are best omitted. Nor have we more of Cassibelan, 
 than what the same story tells, how he warred soon 
 after with Androgens, about his nephew slain by Eve- 
 linus nephew to the other; which business at length 
 composed, Cassibelan dies, and was buried in York, if 
 the Monmouth book fable not. But at Ciesar's coming 
 hither, such likeliest were the Britons, as the writers 
 of those times," and their own actions represent them ; 
 in courage and warlike readiness to take advantage by 
 ambush or sudden onset, not inferiour to the Romans, 
 nor Cassibelan to Csesar; in weapons, arms, and the 
 skill of encamping, embattling, fortifying, overmatch- 
 ed ; their weapons were a short spear and light target, 
 a sword also by their side, their fight sometimes in 
 chariots fanged at the axle with iron sithes, their bodies 
 most part naked, only painted with woad in sundry 
 figures, to seem terrible,Pas they thought, but, pursued 
 by enemies, not nice of their painting to run into bogs 
 worse than wild Irish up to the neck, and there to stay 
 many days holding a certain morsel in their mouths no 
 bigger than a bean, to sufl^ce hunger ;i but that receipt, 
 and the temperance it taught, is long since unknown 
 among us : their towns and strong holds were spaces 
 of ground fenced about with a ditch, and great trees 
 felled overthwart each other, their buildings within 
 were thatched houses for themselves and their cattle : 
 in peace the upland inhabitants, besides hunting, tended 
 their flocks and herds, but with little skill of country 
 affairs ; the making of cheese they commonly knew 
 not, wool or flax they spun not, gardening and planting 
 many of them knew not ; clothing they had none, but 
 what the skins of beasts afforded them,'' and that not 
 always ; yet gallantry they had,s painting their own 
 skins with several portraitures of beast, bird, or flower, 
 a vanity which hath not yet left us, removed only from 
 the skin to the skirt behung now with as many coloured 
 ribands and gewgaws : towards the seaside they tilled 
 
 p Ilerodiau. 
 
 q Dion. 
 
 s SoliDus. 
 
4iUI 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book II 
 
 the ground, and lircdmucb after tbe manner of the Gauls 
 their neighbours, or first planters:* their money was 
 brazen pieces or iron rings, their best merchandize tin, 
 the rest trifles of glass, ivory, and such like :" yet gems 
 and pearls they had, saith Mela, in some rivers : their 
 ships of light timber wickered with ozier between, and 
 covered over with leather, served not tliereforc to trans- 
 port them far, and their commodities were fetched away 
 by foreign merchants : their dealing, saith Diodorus, 
 plain and simple without fraud ; their civil government 
 under many princes and states," not confederate or con- 
 sulting in common, but mistrustful, and ofttimes warring 
 one with the other, which gave them up one by one an 
 easy conquest to the Romans : their religion was go- 
 verned by a sort of priests or magicians, called Druids 
 from the Greek name of an oak, which tree they had in 
 great reverence, and the mistletoe especially growing 
 thereon. Pliny writes them skilled in magic no less 
 than those of Persia ; by their abstaining from a hen, 
 a hare, and a goose, from fish also, saith Dion, and their 
 opinion of the soul's passing after death into other 
 bodies,y they may be thought to have studied Pythago- 
 ras ; yet philosophers I cannot call them, reported men 
 factious and ambitious, contending sometimes about 
 the archpriesthood not without civil war and slaughter 5 
 nor restrained they the people under them from a lewd, 
 adulterous, and incestuous life, ten or twelve men, ab- 
 surdly against nature, possessing one woman as their 
 common wife, though of nearest kin, mother, daughter, 
 or sister; progenitors not to be gloried in. But the 
 gospel, not long after preached here, abolished such 
 impurities, and of the Romans we have cause not to 
 say much worse, than that they beat us into some 
 civility; likely else to have continued longer in a bar- 
 barous and savage manner of life. After Julius (for 
 Julius before his death tyrannously had made himself 
 emperor of the Roman commonwealth, and was slain 
 in the senate for so doing) he who next obtained the 
 empire, Octavianus Coesar Augustus, either contemning 
 the island, as Strabo would have us think, whose 
 neither beneflt was worth the having nor enmity worth 
 the fearing; or out of a wholesome state-maxim, 
 Hs some say, to moderate and bound the empire from 
 growing vast and unwieldy, made no attempt against 
 the Britons. But the truer cause was party civil war 
 among the Romans, partly other affairs more urging. 
 For about twenty years after,^ all which time the Bri- 
 tons had lived at their own dispose, Augustus, in imi- 
 tation of his uncle Julius, either intending or seeming 
 to intend an expedition hither, was come into Gallia, 
 when the news of a revolt in Pannonia diverted him :^ 
 about seven years after in the same resolution, what 
 with the unsettledness of Gallia, and what with am- 
 bassadors from Britain which met him there, he pro- 
 ceeded not. The next year, difference arising about 
 covenants, he was again prevented by other new com- 
 motions in Spain. Nevertheless some of the British 
 potentates omitted not to seek his friendship by gifts 
 
 t Caesar, u Tacitus, Diodor, Strabo. tjican. x Tacitus, y Caesar. 
 
 a Straho, I.e. a Vear brfore th« birthof Chri»t..1C. 
 
 b Djoo, I. 49 : year before the blrUi of Christ, 25 : Diun, 1. 53, 24. 
 
 offered in the Capitol, and other obsequious addresses. 
 Insomuch that the whole island <^ became even in those 
 days well known to the Romans; too well perhaps for i 
 them, who from the knowledge of us were so like to 
 prove enemies. But as for tribute, the Britons paid none 
 to Augustus, except what easy customs were levied on 
 the slightcommodities wherewith they traded into Gallia. 
 
 After Cassibelan, Tenantius the younger son of Lud, 
 according to the Monmouth story, was made king. 
 For Androgens the elder, conceiving himself generally 
 hated for siding with the Romans, forsook his claim 
 here, and followed Coesar's fortune. This king is re- 
 corded just and warlike. 
 
 His son Kymbeline, or Cunobeline, succeeding, was 
 brought up, as is said, in the court of Augustus, and 
 with him held friendly correspondences to the end ; 
 was a warlike prince ; his chief seat Camalodunum, 
 or Maldon, as by certain of his coins, yet to be seen, 
 appears. Tiberius, the next emperor, adhering always 
 to the advice of Augustus, and of himself less caring 
 to extend the bounds of his empire, sought not the 
 Britons ; and they as little to incite him, sent home 
 courteously the soldiers of Germanicus, that by ship- 
 wreck had been cast on the British sliore.*^ But Ca- 
 ligula,® his successor, a wild and dissolute tyrant, hav- 
 ing passed the Alps with intent to rob and spoil those 
 provinces, and stirred up by Adminius the son of Cu- 
 nobeline ; who, by his father banished, with a small 
 number fled thitherto him, made semblance of march- 
 ing toward Britain ; but being come to the ocean, and 
 there behaving himself madly and ridiculously, went 
 back the same way : yet sent before him boasting 
 letters to the senate, as if all Britain had been 
 yielded him. Cunobeline now dead, Adminius the 
 eldest by his father banished from his country, and 
 by his own practice against it from the crown, 
 though by an old coin seeming to have also reigned ; 
 Togodumnus, and Caractacus the two younger, uncer- 
 tain whether unequal or subordinate in power, were 
 advanced into his place. But through civil discord, 
 Bericus (what he was further, is not known) with 
 others of his party flying to Rome,f persuaded Clau- 
 dius the emperor to an invasion. Claudius now consul 
 the third time, and desirous to do something, whence 
 he might gain the honour of a triumph, at the persua- 
 sion of these fugitives, whom the Britons demanding, 
 he bad denied to render, and they for that cause had 
 denied further amity with Rome, makes choice of this 
 island for his province :8 and sends before him Aulus 
 Plautius the praetor, with this command, if the business 
 grew difficult, to give him notice. Plautius with much 
 ado persuaded the legions to move out of Gallia, mur- 
 muring that now they must be put to make war b€ 
 yond the world's end, for so they counted Britain ; anc 
 what welcome Julius the dictator found there, doubt«j 
 less they had heard. At last prevailed with, and hoist^ 
 ing sail from three several ports, lest their landing 
 should in any one place be resisted, meeting cro 
 
 c Strabo, I. 4. <\ Tacit, an. 1. 2. 
 
 » Year afteriUie birth ot Christ, 16. Dion. Suetun. Ca.. Ano.Doin. 
 t Dion. g 43. Sueton. 
 
Book II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 489 
 
 winds, they were cast back and disheartened ; till in 
 the night a meteor shooting flames from the East, and 
 I as they fancied directing their course, they took heart 
 j again to try the sea, and without opposition landed. 
 j For the Britons, having heard of their unwillingness 
 j to come, had been negligent to provide against them ; 
 j and retiring to the woods and moors, intended to frus- 
 I trate and wear them out with delays, as they had served 
 Caesar before. Plautius, after much trouble to find 
 them out, encountering first with Caractacus, then with 
 Togodumnus, overthrew them ; and receiving into 
 conditions part of the Boduni, who were then subject 
 to the Catuellani, and leaving there a garrison, went 
 I on toward a river : where the Britons not imagining 
 that Plautius without a bridge could pass, lay on the 
 further side careless and secure. But he sending first 
 the Germans, whose custom was, armed as they were, 
 to swim with ease the strongest current, commands 
 them to strike especially at the horses, whereby the 
 chariots, wherein consisted their chief art of fight, be- 
 came unserviceable. To second them he sent Vespa- 
 sian, who in his latter days obtained the empire, and 
 Sabinus his brother; who unexpectedly assailing those 
 who were least aware, did much execution. Yet not 
 for this were the Britons dismayed ; but reuniting the 
 next day, fought with such a courage, as made it hard 
 to decide which way hung the victory : till Caius 
 Sidius Geta, at point to have been taken, recovered 
 himself so valiantly, as brought the day on his side ; 
 for which at Rome he received high honours. After 
 this the Britons drew back toward the mouth of 
 Thames, and, acquainted with those places, crossed 
 over; where the Romans following them through bogs 
 and dangerous flats, hazarded the loss of all. Yet the 
 Germans getting over, and others by a bridge at some 
 place above, fell on them again with sundry alarms 
 and great slaughter; but in the heat of pursuit run- 
 ning themselves again into bogs and mires, lost as 
 many of their own. Upon which ill success, and see- 
 ing the Britons more enraged at the death of Togo- 
 dumnus, who in one of these battles had been slain, 
 Plautius fearing the worst, and glad that he could hold 
 what he held, as was enjoined him, sends to Claudius. 
 He who waited ready with a huge preparation, as if 
 not safe enough amidst the flower of all his Romans, 
 like a great Eastern king, with armed elephants 
 marches through Gallia. So full of peril was this en- 
 terprise esteemed, as not without all this equipage, and 
 stranger terrours than Roman armies, to meet the 
 native and the naked British valour defending their 
 country. Joined with Plautius, who encamping on 
 the bank of Thames attended him, he passes the river. 
 The Britons, who had the courage, but not the wise 
 conduct of old Cassibelan, laying all stratagem aside, 
 in downright manhood scruple not to affront in open 
 field almost the whole power of the Roman empire. 
 But overcome and vanquished, part by force, others by 
 treaty come in and yield. Claudius therefore, who 
 took Camalodunum, the royal seat of Cunobeline, was 
 often by the army saluted Imperator; a military title 
 
 h Dion, I. 62. Tacit, an. 14, 44. i Sueton. Claud. 5,«24. 
 
 which usually they gave their general after any notable 
 exploit; but to others, not above once in the same 
 war ; as if Claudius, by these acts, had deserved more 
 than the laws of Rome had provided honour to reward. 
 Having therefore disarmed the Britons, but remitted 
 the confiscation of their goods,'' for which they wor- 
 shipped him with sacrifice and temple as a god, leaving 
 Plautius to subdue what remained; he returns to 
 Rome, from whence he had been absent only six 
 months, and in Britain but sixteen days ; sending the 
 news before him of his victories, though in a small part 
 of the island. By which is manifestly refuted that 
 v»bich Eutropius and Orosius write of his conquering 
 at that time also the Orcades islands, lying to the North 
 of Scotland; and not conquered by the Romans (for 
 aught found in any good author) till above forty years 
 after, as shall appear. To Claudius the senate, as for 
 achievements of highest merit, decreed excessive 
 honours ; arches, triumphs, annual solemnities, and the 
 surname of Britannicus both to him and his sou. 
 
 Suetonius writes, that Claudius found here no resist- 
 ance, and that all was done without stroke : but this 
 seems not probable. The Monmouth writer names 
 these two sons of Cunobeline, Guiderius and Arviragus ; 
 that Guiderius being slain in fight, Arviragus, to con- 
 ceal it, put on his brother's habiliments, and in his per- 
 son held up the battle to a victory ; the rest, as of Hano 
 the Roman captain, Geuuissa the emperor's daughter, 
 and such like stuff", is too palpably untrue to be worth 
 rehearsing in the midst of truth. Plautius after this, 
 eniphying his fresh forces to conquer on, and quiet the 
 rebelling countries, found work enough to deserve at 
 his return a kind of triumphant riding into the Capitol 
 side by side with the emperor.' Vespasian also under 
 Plautius bad thirty conflicts with the enemy ; in one 
 of which encompassed, and in great danger, he was 
 valiantly and piously rescued by his son Titus : '' two 
 powerful nations he subdued here, above twenty towns 
 and the Isle of Wight ; for which he received at Rome 
 triumphal ornaments, and other great dignities. For 
 that city in reward of virtue was ever magnificent ; 
 and long after when true merit was ceased among 
 them, lest any thing resembling virtue should want 
 honour, the same rewards were yet allowed to the very 
 shadow and ostentation of merit. Ostorius in the room 
 of Plautius viceprsetor met with turbulent afl'airs;' the 
 Britons not ceasing to vex with inroads all tliose coun- 
 tries that were yielded to the Romans ; and now the 
 more eagerly,'" supposing that the new general, unac- 
 quainted with his array, and on the edge of winter, 
 would not hastily oppose them. But he weighing 
 that first events were most available to breed fear or 
 contempt, with such cohorts as were next at hand, sets 
 out against them : whom having routed, so close he 
 follows, as one who meant not to be every day molest- 
 ed with the cavils of a slight peace, or an emboldened 
 enemy. Lest they should make head again, he dis- 
 arms whom he suspects ; and to surround them, places 
 many garrisons upon the rivers of Antonaand Sabrina. 
 But the Icenians, a stout people, untouched yet by 
 
 k Sueton. \'esp. Dio. 1. 60, 47. 1 50. Tacit, an. IC. m Eutropius. 
 
490 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 tBese wars, as havingf before sought alliance with the 
 Romans, were the first that brooked not this. By their 
 example others rise ; and in a chosen place, fenced 
 with high banks of earth and narrow lanes to prevent 
 the horse, warily encamp. Ostorius though yet not 
 strengthened with his legions, causes the auxiliar 
 bands, his troops also alighting, to assault the ram- 
 part. They within, though pestered with their own 
 number, stood to it like men resolved, and in a narrow 
 compass did remarkable deeds. But overpowered at 
 last, and others by their success quieted, who till then 
 wavered, Ostorius next bends his force upon the Can- 
 gians, wasting all even to the sea of Ireland, without 
 foe in his way, or them, who durst, ill handled; when 
 the Brigantes, attempting new matters, drew him back 
 to settle first what was unsecu re behind him. They, of 
 whom the chief were punished, the rest forgiven, soon 
 gtive over ; but the Silures, no way tractable, were not 
 to be repressed without a set war. To further this, 
 Camalodunum was planted with a colony of veteran 
 soldiers ; to be a firm and ready aid against revolts, 
 and a means to teach the natives Roman law and 
 civility. Cogidunus also a British king, their fast 
 friend, had to the same intent certain cities given 
 him : ° a haughty craft, which the Romans used, to 
 make kings also the servile agents of enslaving others. 
 But the Silures, hardy of themselves, relied more on 
 the valour of Caractacus ; whom many doubtful, many 
 prosperous successes had made eminent above all that 
 ruled in Britain. He, adding to his courage policy, 
 and knowing himself to be of strength inferior, in 
 other advantages the better, makes the seat of his war 
 among the Ordovices ; a country wherein all the odds 
 were to his own party, all the difficulties to his enemy. 
 The hills and every access he fortified with heaps of 
 stones, and guards of men ; to come at whom a river 
 of unsafe passage must be first waded. The place, as 
 Camden conjectures, had thence the name of Caer-ca- 
 radoc on the west edge of Shropshire. He himself 
 continually went up and down, animating his officers 
 and leaders, that " this was the day, this the field, 
 either to defend their liberty, or to die free ;" calling to 
 mind the names of his glorious ancestors, who drove 
 Cffisar the dictator out of Britain, whose valour hither- 
 to had preserved them from bondage, their wives and 
 children from dishonour. Inflamed with these words, 
 they all vow their utmost, with such undaunted resolu- 
 tion as amazed the Roman general ; but the soldiers 
 less weighing, because less knowing, clamoured to be 
 led on against any danger. Ostorius, after wary cir- 
 cumspection, bids them pass the river : the Britons no 
 sooner had them within reach of their arrows, darts, 
 and stones, but slew and wounded largely of the Ro- 
 mans. They on the other side closing their ranks, 
 and over head closing their targets, threw down the 
 loose rampires of the Britons, and pursue them up the 
 hills, both light and anued legions ; till what with 
 galling darts and heavy strokes, the Britons, who wore 
 neither helmet nor cuirass to defend them, were at last 
 overcome. This the Romans thought a famous vic- 
 
 B T«cit. vit. Agrtr. 
 
 tory ; wherein the wife and daughter of Caractacus 
 were taken, his brothers also reduced to obedience; 
 himself escaping to Cartismandua, queen of the Bri- 
 gantes, against faith given was to the victors delivered 
 bound; having held out against the Romans nine 
 years, saith Tacitus, but by truer computation, se- 
 ven. Whereby his name was up through all the ad- 
 joining provinces, even to Italy and Rome ; many 
 desiring to sec who he was, that could withstand 
 so many years the Roman puissance : and Ceesar, 
 to extol his own victory, extolled the man whom he 
 had vanquished. Being brought to Rome, the peo- 
 ple as to a solemn spectacle were called together, 
 the emperor's guard stood in arms. In order came 
 first the king's servants, bearing his trophies won 
 in other wars, next his brothers, wife, and daughter, ' 
 last himself. The behaviour of others, through fear, 
 was low and degenerate ; he only neither in coun- 
 tenance, word, or action submissive, standing at the 
 tribunal of Claudius, briefly spake to this purj)ose : " If 
 my mind, Ceesar, had been as moderate in the height 
 of fortune, as my birth and dignity was eminent, 
 I might have come a friend rather than a captive into 
 this city. Nor couldst thou have disliked him for a 
 confederate, so noble of descent, and ruling so many na- 
 tions. My present estate to me disgraceful, to thee is 
 glorious. I had riches, horses, arms, and men ; no 
 wonder then if I contended, not to lose them. But if 
 by fate, yours only must be empire, then of necessity 
 ours among the rest must be subjection. If I sooner 
 had been brought to yield, my misfortune had been 
 less notorious, your conquest had been less renowned ; 
 and in your severest determining of me, both will be 
 soon forgotten. But if you grant that I shall live, by 
 me will live to 3'ou for ever that praise which is so near 
 divine, the clemency of a conqueror." Csesar moved 
 at such a spectacle of fortune, but especially at the no- 
 bleness of his bearing it, gave him pardon, and to all 
 the rest. They all unbound, subniissly thank him, and 
 did like reverence to Agrippina the emperor's wife, who 
 sat by in state ; a new and disdained sight to the manly 
 eyes of Romans, a woman sitting public in her female 
 pride among ensigns and armed cohorts. To Ostorius 
 triumph is decreed ; and his acts esteemed equal to 
 theirs, that brought in bonds to Rome famouscst kings. 
 But the same prosperity attended not his later actions 
 here; for the Silures, whether to revenge their loss of 
 Caractacus, or that they saw Ostorius, as if now all 
 were done, less earnest to restrain them, beset the pre- 
 fect of his camp, left there with legionary bands to ap- 
 point garrisons : and had not speedy aid come in from 
 the neighbouring holds and castles, had cut them all 
 off"; notwithstanding which, the prefect with eight 
 centurions, and many their stoutest men, were slain : 
 and upon the neck of this, meeting first with Roman 
 foragers, then with other troops hasting to their relief, 
 utterly foiled and broke them also. Ostorius sending 
 more after, could hardly stay their flight ; till the 
 weighty legions coming on, at first poised the battle^' 
 at length turned the scale : to the Britons without 
 
iboOK II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 491 
 
 much loss, for by that time it grew night. Then was 
 the war shivered, as it were, into small frays and bick- 
 ering's ; not unlike sometimes to so many robberies, in 
 woods, at waters, as chance or valour, advice or rash- 
 ness, led them on, commanded or without command. 
 That which most exasperated the Silures, was a report 
 of certain words cast out by the emperor, " That he 
 would root them out to the very name." Therefore two 
 cohorts more of auxiliars, by the avarice of their leaders 
 too securely pillag-ing', they quite intercepted ; and be- 
 stowing liberally the spoils and captives, whereof they 
 took plenty, drew other countries to join with them. 
 These losses falling so thick upon the Romans, Osto- 
 rius with the thought and anguish thereof ended his 
 days ; the Britons rejoicing, although no battle, that 
 yet adverse war had worn out so great a soldier, Coesar 
 in his place ordains Aulus Didius ; but ere his coming, 
 though much hastened, that the province might not 
 want a governor, the Silures had given an overthrow 
 to Manlius Valens with his legion, rumoured on both 
 sides greater than was true, by the Silures to animate 
 the new general ; by him in a double respect, of the 
 more praise if he quelled them, or the more excuse if 
 he failed. Meantime the Silures forgot not to infest 
 the Roman pale with wide excursions ; till Didius 
 marching out, kept them somewhat more within bounds. 
 Nor were they long to seek, who after Caractacus should 
 lead them ; for next to him in worth and skill of war, 
 Venutius, a prince of the Brigantes, merited to be their 
 chief. He at first faithful to the Romans, and by them 
 protected, was the husband of Cartismandua, queen of 
 the Brigantes, himself perhaps reigning elsewhere. 
 She who had betrayed Caractacus and her country 
 to adorn the triumph of Claudius, thereby grown 
 powerful and gracious vvith the Romans, presnminji; 
 on the hire of her treason, deserted her husband ; 
 and marrying Vellocatus one of his squires, con- 
 fers on him the kingdom also. This deed so odious 
 and full of infamy, disturbed the whole state; Venu- 
 tius witii other forces, and the help of her own subjects, 
 who detested the example of so foul a fact, and withal 
 the uncomeliness of their subjection to the monarchy 
 of a woman, a piece of manhood not every day to he 
 found among Britons, though she had got by subtile 
 train his brother with many of his kindred into her 
 hands, brought her soon below the confidence of being 
 able to resist longer. When imploring the Roman aid, 
 with much ado, and after many a hard encounter, she 
 escaped the punishment which was ready to have seized 
 her. Venutius thus debarred the authority of ruling 
 his own household, justly turns his anger against the 
 Romans themselves ; whose magnanimity not wont to 
 undertake dishonourable causes, had arrogantly inter- 
 meddled in his domestic affairs, to uphold the rebellion 
 of an adulteress against her husband. And the king- 
 dom he retained against their utmost opposition ; and 
 of war gave them their fill ; first in a sharp conflict of 
 uncertain event, then against the legion of Csesius Na- 
 sica. Insomuch that Didius growing old, and manag- 
 ing the war by deputies, had work enough to stand on 
 
 o i'acit. vit. Agric. 
 
 his defence, with the gaining now and then of a small 
 castle. And Nero ° (for in that part of the isle things 
 continued in the same plight to the reign of Vespasian) 
 was minded but for shame to have withdrawn the Ro- 
 man forces out of Britain : in other parts whereof, 
 about the same time other things befel.P Verannius, 
 whom Nero sent hither to succeed Didius, dying in 
 his first year, save a few inroads upon the Silures, lefl 
 only a great boast behind him, " That in two years, had 
 he lived, he would have conquered all." But Suetonius 
 Paulinus, who next was sent hither, esteemed a soldier 
 equal to the best in that age, for two years together 
 went on prosperously, both confirming what was got, 
 and subduing onward. At last over-confident of his 
 present actions, and emulating others, of whose deeds 
 he heard from abroad, marches up as far as Mona, the 
 isle of Anglesey, a populous place. For they, it seems, 
 had both entertained fugitives, and given good assist- 
 ance to the rest that withstood him. He makes him 
 boats with flat bottoms, fitted to the shallows which he 
 expected in that narrow frith ; his foot so passed over, 
 his horse waded or swam. Thick upon the shore stood 
 several gross bands of men well weaponed, many 
 women like furies running to and fro in dismal habit, 
 with hair loose about their shoulders, held torches in 
 their hands. The Druids (those were their priests, of 
 whom more in another place) with hands lift up to 
 Heaven uttering direful prayers, astonished the Ro- 
 mans ; who at so strange a sight stood in amaze, 
 though wounded: at length awakened and encouraged 
 by their general, not to fear a barbarous and lunatic 
 rout, fall on, and beat them down scorched and rolling 
 in their own fire. Then were they yoked with garri- 
 sons, and the places consecrate to their bloody super- 
 stitions destroyed. For whom they took in war, they 
 held it lawful to sacrifice ; and by the entrails of men 
 used divination. While thus Paulinus had his thought 
 still fixed before to go on winning, his back lay broad 
 open to occasion of losing more behind : for the Bri- 
 tons, urged and oppressed with many unsufferable in- 
 juries, had all handed themselves to a general revolt. 
 The particular causes are not all written by one au- 
 thor ; Tacitus who lived next those times of any to us 
 extant, writes that Prasutagus king of the Icenians, 
 abounding in wealth, had left Ceesar coheir with his 
 two daughters ; tliereby hoping to have secured from 
 all wrong both his kingdom and his house ; which fell 
 out far otherwise. For under colour to oversee and 
 take possession of the emperor's new inheritance, his 
 kingdom became a prey to centurions, his house to 
 ravening officers, his wife Boadicea violated with 
 stripes, his daughter with rape, the wealthiest of his 
 subjects, as it were, by the will and testament of their 
 king thrown out of their estates, his kindred made lit- 
 tle better than slaves. The new colony also at Cama- 
 lodunum took house or land from whom they pleased, 
 terming them slaves and vassals ; the soldiers comply- 
 insr with the colony, out of hope hereafter to use the 
 same licence themselves. Moreover the temple erected 
 to Claudius as a badge of their eternal slavery, stood a 
 
 p Tacit, Hist. 3. Suetoa. 
 
492 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 great eyesore ; the priests whereof, unoer pretext of 
 what was due to the religious service, wasted and em- 
 bezzled each man's substance upon themselves. And 
 Catus Decianus the procurator endeavoured to bring 
 all their goods within the compass of new confiscation,i 
 by disavowing the remitment of Claudius. Lastly, 
 Seneca, in bis books a philosopher, having drawn tlic 
 Britons unwillingly to borrou of him vast sums upon 
 fair promises of easy loan, and for repayment to take 
 their own time, on a sudden compels them to pay in 
 all at once with great extortion. Thus provoked by 
 heaviest sufferings, and thus invited by opportunities 
 in tbe absence of PauHnus, the Icenians, and by their 
 examples the Trinobantes, and as many else as hated 
 servitude, rise up in arms. Of these ensuing troubles 
 many foregoing signs appeared ; the image of victory 
 at Camalodunum fell down of itself witli her face turn- 
 ed, as it were, to the Britons; certain women, in a kind 
 of ecstacy, foretold of calamities to come : in the coun- 
 cil-house were heard by night barbarous noises ; in the 
 theatre hideous howling^, in the creek horrid sights, 
 betokening the destruction of that colony ; hereto the 
 ocean seeming of a bloody hue, and human shapes at 
 low ebb, left imprinted on the sand, wrought in the 
 Britons new courage, in the Romans unwonted fears. 
 Camalodunum,wherethe Romans had seated themselves 
 to dwell pleasantly, rather than defensively, was not 
 fortified ; against that therefore the Britons make first 
 assault. The soldiers within were not very many. 
 Decianus the procurator could send them but two hun- 
 dred, those ill armed : and through the treachery of 
 some among them, who secretly favoured the insurrec- 
 tion, they had deferred both to entrench, and to send 
 out such as bore not arms ; such as did, flying to the 
 temple, which on the second day was forcibly taken, 
 were all put to the sword, the temple made a heap, the 
 rest rifled and burnt. Petilius Cerealis coming to his 
 succour, is in his way met and overthrown, his whole 
 legion cut to pieces; he with his horse hardly escaping 
 to the Roman camp. Decianus, whose rapine was the 
 cause of all this, fled into Gallia. But Suetonius at 
 these tidings not dismayed, through the midst of his 
 enemy's country, marches to London (though not 
 termed a colony, yet full of Roman inhabitants, and 
 for the frequency of trade, and other commodities, a 
 town even then of principal note) with puq)ose to have 
 made there the seat of war. But considering the 
 smallness of his numbers, and the late rashness of Pe- 
 tilius, he chooses rather with the loss of one town lo 
 save the rest. Nor was he flexible to any prayers or 
 weeping of them that besought him to tarry there; but 
 taking with him such as were willing, gave signal to 
 depart; they who through weakness of sex or age, or 
 love of the place, went not along, perished by the 
 enemy; so did Verulam,a Roman free town. For the 
 Britons omitting forts and castles, flew thither first 
 where richest booty and the hope of pillaging tolled 
 them on. In this massacre about seventy thousand 
 Romans and their associates, in the places above men- 
 tioned, of certain lost their lives. None might be 
 
 q DioD. r Dioa. I. GC. 
 
 spared, none ransomed, but tasted all either a present 
 ur a lingering death ; no cruelty that either outrage or 
 the insolence of success put into their heads, was left 
 unacted. The Roman wives and virgins hanged up 
 all naked,"" had their breasts cut ofl^, and sewed to their 
 mouths; that in the grimness of death they might 
 seem to eat their own flesh ; while the Britons fell to 
 feasting and carousing in the temple of Andate their 
 goddess of victory. Suetonius adding to his legion 
 other old officers and soldiers thereabout, which gather- 
 ed to him, were near upon ten thousand ; and purpos- 
 ing with those not to defer battle, had chosen a place 
 narrow, and not to be overwinged, on his rear a wood ; 
 being well informed that his enemy were all in front 
 on a plain unapt for ambush : the legionaries stood 
 thick in order, empaled with light armed ; the horse 
 on either wing. The Britons in companies and 
 squadrons were every where shouting and swarming, 
 such a multitude as at other time never ; no less 
 reckoned than two hundred and thirty thousand : so 
 fierce and confident of victory, that their wives also 
 came in waggons to sit and behold tbe sports, as they 
 made full account of killing Romans : a folly doubt- 
 less for tbe serious Romans to smile at, as a sure token 
 of prospering that day : a woman also was their com- 
 mander in chief For Boadicea and her daughters 
 ride about in a chariot, telling the tall champions as 
 a great encouragement, that with the Britons it was 
 usual for women to be their leaders. A deal of other 
 fondness they put into her mouth not worth recital ; 
 how she was lashed, how her daughters were bandied, 
 things worthier silence, retirement, and a vail, than for 
 a woman to repeat, as done to her own person, or to 
 hear repeated before a host of men. Tlie Greek histo- 
 rian * sets her in the field on a high heap of turves, in a 
 loose-bodied gown, declaiming, a spear in her hand, a 
 hare in her bosom, which after a long circumlocution, 
 she was to let slip among them for luck's sake ; then 
 praying to Andate the British goddess, to talk again 
 as fondly as before. And this they do out of a vanity, 
 hoping to embellish and set out their history with the 
 strangeness of our manners, not caring in the mean 
 while to brand us with the rankest note of barbarism, 
 as if in Britain women were men, and men women. I 
 affect not set speeches in a history, unless known for 
 certain to have been so spoken in eflPect as they are 
 written, nor then, unless worth rehearsal : and to in- 
 vent such, though eloquently, as some historians have 
 done, is an abuse of posterity, raising in them that read 
 other conceptions of those times and persons than were 
 true. Much less therefore do I purpose here or else- ; 
 where to copy out tedious orations without decorum, ' 
 though in their authors composed ready to my hand. 
 Hitherto what we have heard of Cassibelan, Togadum- 
 nus, Venusius, and Caractacus, hath been full of mag- 
 nanimity, soberness, and martial skill : but tlic trutli 
 is, that in this battle and whole business the Britons 
 never more plainly manifested themselves to be right 
 Barbarians ; no rule, no foresight, no forecast, experi- 
 ence, or estimation, either of themselves or of their 
 
 Pioo. 
 
 I 
 
Book II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 493 
 
 enemies ; such confusion, such impotence, as seemed 
 likest not to a war, but to the wild hurry of a distract- 
 ed woman, with as mad a crew at her lieels. Therefore 
 Suetonius, contemning' their unruly noises and fierce 
 looks, heartens his men but to stand close a while, and 
 strike manfully this headless rabble tiiat stood nearest, 
 the rest would be a purchase rather than a toil. And 
 so it fell out; for the le<Tion, when they saw their 
 time, bursting- out like a violent wedge, quickly broke 
 and dissi])ated what opposed them ; all else only held 
 out their necks to the slayer; for their own carts and 
 waggons were so placed by themselves, as left them 
 but little room to escape between. The Roman slew 
 all ; men, women, and the very drawing^ horses lay 
 heaped along the field in a g-ory mixture of slaughter. 
 About fourscore thousand Britons are said to have been 
 slain on the place; of the enemy scarce four hundred, 
 and not many more wounded. Boadicea poisoned her- 
 self, or, as others say, sickened and died. *■ She was 
 of stature big and tall, of visage grim and stern, harsh 
 of voice, her hair of a bright colour flowing down to 
 her hips; she wore a plaited garment of divers colours, 
 with a great golden chain ; buttoned over all a thick 
 robe. Gildas calls her the crafty lioness, and leaves 
 an ill fame upon her doings. Dion sets down other- 
 wise the order of this fight, and that the field was not 
 won without much difficulty, nor without intention of 
 the Britons to give another battle, had not the death 
 of Boadicea come between. Howbeit Suetonius, to 
 preserve discijiline, and to dispatch the reliquesof war, 
 lodged with all the army in the open field ; which 
 was supplied out of Germany with a thousand horse 
 and ten thousand foot; thence dispersed to winter, and 
 with incursions to waste those countries that stood out. 
 But to the Britons famine was a worse affliction ; hav- 
 ing- left off, during- this uproar, to till the g-round, and 
 made reckoning to serve themselves on the provisions 
 of their enemy. Nevertheless those nations that were 
 yet untamed, hearing of some discord risen between 
 Suetonius and the new procurator Classicianus, were 
 brought but slowly to terms of peace ; and the rigour 
 used by Suetonius on them that yielded, taught them 
 the better course to stand on their defence." For it is cer- 
 tain that Suetonius, though else a worthy man,overproud 
 of his victory, gave too much way to his anger against 
 the Britons. Classician therefore sending such word 
 to Rome, that these severe proceedings would beget an 
 endless war, Polycletus, no Roman but a courtier, was 
 sent by Nero to examine how things went. He ad- 
 monishing Suetonius to use more mildness, awed the 
 army, and to the Britons gave matter of laughter. 
 Who so much even till then were nursed up in their 
 native liberty, as to wonder that so great a general 
 with his whole army should be at the rebuke and or- 
 dering of a court-servitor. But Suetonius a while 
 after, having lost a few galleys on the shore, was bid 
 resign his command to Petronius Turpilianus, who not 
 provoking- the Britons, nor by them provoked, was 
 thought to have pretended the love of peace to what 
 
 t Dion. 
 
 w Tac. hist. 1. 1. and vit. 
 
 u Tacit vit. Agric. 
 Agric. Anuo post Christ. 69. 
 
 indeed was his love of ease and sloth. Trebellius 
 Maximus followed his steps, usurping the name of 
 gentle government to any remissness or neglect of dis- 
 cipline ; which brought in first license, next disobe- 
 dience into his camp ; incensed against him partly for 
 his covetousness, partly by the incitement of Roscius 
 Cielius, legate of a legion ; with whom formerly dis- 
 agreeing, now that civil war began in the empire, he 
 fell to open discord ; * charging him with disorder and 
 sedition, and him Cselius with peeling and defrauding 
 the legions of their pay; insomuch that Trebellius, 
 hated and deserted of the soldiers, was content a 
 while to govern by base entreaty, and forced at 
 length to flee the land. Which notwithstanding 
 remained in good quiet, governed by Coelius and 
 the other legate of a legion, both faithful to Vitel- 
 lius then emperor; who sent hither Vectius Bola- 
 nus ; under whose lenity, though not tainted with 
 other fault, against the Britons nothing was done, 
 nor in their own discipline reformed.* Petilius Ce- 
 realis by appointment of Vespasian succeeding, had 
 to do with the populous Brigantes in many bat- 
 tles, and some of those not unbloody. For as we 
 heard before, it^ was Venusius who even to these 
 times held them tack, both himself remaining to the 
 end unvanquished, and some part of his country not so 
 much as reached. It appears also by several passages 
 in the histories of Tacitus,* that no small matter of 
 British forces were commanded over sea the year before 
 to serve in those bloody wars between Otho and Vitel- 
 lius, Vitelliusand Vespasian contending for the empire. 
 To CereaJis succeeded Julius Frontinus in the govern- 
 ment of Britain,* who by taming the Silures, a people 
 warlike and strongly inhabiting, augmented much his 
 reputation. But Julius Agricola, whom Vespasian iu 
 his la.st year sent hither, trained up from his youth in 
 the British wars, extended with victories the Roman 
 limit beyond all his predecessors. His coming was in 
 the midst of summer ; and the Ordivices to welcome 
 the new general had hewn in pieces a whole squadron 
 of horse which lay upon their bounds, few escaping. 
 Agricola, who perceived that the noise of this defeat 
 had also in the province desirous of novelty stirred up 
 new expectations, resolves to be beforehand with tlie 
 danger : and drawing together the choice of his legions 
 with a competent number of auxiliaries, not being met 
 by the Ordovices, who kept the hills, himself at the 
 head of his men, hunts them up and down through 
 difficult places, almost to the final extirpating of that 
 whole nation. With the same current of success, what 
 Paulinus had left unfinished he conquers in the isle of 
 Mona : for the islanders altogether fearless of his ap- 
 proach, whom they knew to have no shipping, when 
 they saw themselves invaded on a sudden by the aux- 
 iliars, whose country-use had taught them to swim 
 over with horse and arms, were compelled to yield. 
 This gained Agricola much opinion: who at his very 
 entrance, a time which others bestowed of course in 
 hearing compliments and gratulations, had made such 
 
 X Tacit, liisf. C. and vit. Agric. 
 z Tacit, iiist. 3. anii vit. Agric 
 
 y Calvis. 
 a Post Christ. 79. 
 
494 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 early progress into laborious and hardest enterprises. 
 But by far not so famous was .\gricola in bringing- 
 war to a speedy end, as in cutting off the causes from 
 whence war arises. For he knowing that the end of 
 war was not to make way for injuries in peace, began 
 reformation from his own house ; permitted not bis at- 
 tendants and followers to sway, or have to do at all in 
 public affairs : lays on with equality the proportions of 
 com and tribute that were imposed ; takes off exactions, 
 and the fees of encroaching officers, heavier than the 
 tribute itself. For the countries had been compelled 
 before, to sit and wait the opening of public granaries, 
 and both to sell and to buy their corn at what rate the 
 publicans thought fit ; the purveyors also commanding 
 when they pleased to bring it in, not to the nearest, 
 but still to the remotest places, either by the compound- 
 ing of such as would be excused, or by causing a dearth, 
 where none was, made a particular gain. These griev- 
 ances and the like, he in the time of peace removing, 
 brought peace into some credit; which before, since 
 the Romans coming, had as ill a name as war. The 
 summer following, Titus then emperor, ** he so continu- 
 ally with inroads disquieted the enemy over all the 
 isle, and after terrour so allured them with his gentle 
 demeanour, that many cities which till that time would 
 not bend, gave hostages, admitted garrisons, and came 
 in voluntarily. The winter he spent all in worthy ac- 
 tions ; teaching and promoting like a public father the 
 institutes and customs of civil life. The inhabitants 
 rude and scattered, and by that the proner to war, he so 
 persuaded to build houses, temples, and seats of justice ; 
 and by praising the forward, quickening the slow, 
 assisting all, turned the name of necessity into an 
 emulation. He caused moreover the noblemen's sons 
 to be bred up in liberal arts; and by preferring the 
 wits of Britain before the studies of Gallia, brought 
 them to affect the Latin eloquence, who before hated 
 the language. Then were the Roman fashions imi- 
 tated, and the gown ; after a while the incitements 
 also and materials of vice, and voluptuous life, proud 
 buildings, baths, and the elegance of banqueting; 
 which the foolisher sort called civility, but was indeed 
 a secret art to prepare them for bondage. Spring ap- 
 pearing, he took the field, and with a prosperous ex- 
 pedition wasted as far northward as frith of Taus all 
 that obeyed not, with such a terrour, as he went, that 
 the Roman army, though much hindered by tempestu- 
 ous weather, had the leisure to build forts and castles 
 where they pleased, none daring to oppose them. Be- 
 sides, Agricola had this excellence in him, so pro- 
 vidently to choose his places where to fortify, as not 
 another general then alive. No sconce or fortress of 
 Lis raising was ever known either to have been forced, 
 or yielded up or quitted. Out of these impregnable by 
 k siege, or in that case duly relieved, with continual 
 
 irruptions he so prevailed, that the enemy, whose 
 manner was in winter to regain what in summer he 
 had lost, was now alike in both seasons kept short and 
 streightencd. For these exploits, then esteemed so 
 great and honourable, Titus, in whose reign they w^ere 
 
 b Post ChrMt. 80. c Dion. I. 06. Poet Cbri»t. 82. 
 
 achieved, was the fifteenth time saluted impcrator;* 
 and of him Agricola received triumphal honours. The 
 fourth summer, Domitian then ruling the empire, he 
 sj)ont in settling and confirming what the year before 
 he had travelled over with a running conquest. And 
 had the valour of his soldiers been answerable, he 
 had reached that year, as was thought, the utmost 
 bounds of Britain. For Glota and Bodotria, now 
 Dunbritton, and the frith of Edinburgh, two opposite 
 arms of the sea, divided only by a neck of land, and 
 all the creeks and inlets on this side, were held by 
 the Romans, and the enemy driven as it were into 
 another island. In his fifth year** he passed over into 
 the Orcades, as we may probably guess, and other 
 Scotch isles; discovering and subduing nations, till then 
 unknown. He gained also with his forces that part of 
 Britain which faces Ireland, as aiming also to conquer 
 that island ; where one of the Irish kings driven out 
 by civil wars coming to him, he both gladly received, 
 and retained him as against a fit time. The summer 
 ensuing, on mistrust that the nations beyond Bodolria 
 would generally rise, and forelay the passages by land, 
 he caused his fleet, making a great show, to bear along 
 the coast, and up the friths and harbours; joining most 
 commonly at night on the same shore both land and 
 sea-forces, with mutual shouts and loud greetings. 
 At sight whereof the Britons, not wont to see their sea 
 so ridden, were much daunted. Howbeit the Caledo- 
 nians e with great preparation, and by rumour, as of 
 things unknown much greater, taking arras, and of 
 their own accord beginning war by the assault of sundry 
 castles, sent back some of their fear to the Romans 
 themselves : and there were of the commanders, who 
 cloaking their fear under show of sage advice, coun- 
 selled the general to retreat back on this side Bodo- 
 tria. He in the mean while having intelligence, that 
 the enemy would fall on in many bodies, divided also 
 his army into three parts. Which advantage the Bri- 
 tons quickly spying, and on a sudden uniting what 
 before they had disjointed, assail by night with all 
 their forces that part of the Roman army which they 
 knew to be the weakest ; and breaking in upon the 
 camp, surprised between sleep and fear, had begun some 
 execution. When Agricola, who had learnt what way 
 the enemies took, and followed them with all speed, 
 sending before him the lightest of his horse, and foot 
 to charge them behind, the rest as they came on to 
 affright them with clamour, so plied them without res- 
 pite, that by approach of day the Roman ensigns glit- 
 tering all about, had encompassed the Britons : who 
 now after a sharp fight in the very ports of the camp, 
 betook them to their wonted refuge, the woods and 
 fens, pursued a while by the Romans ; that day else in 
 all appearance had ended the war. The legions rein- 
 couraged by this event, they also now boasting, who 
 but lately trembled, cry all to be led on as far as ther.- 
 was British ground. The Britons also not acknow- 
 ledging the loss of that day to Roman valour, but to 
 the policy of their captain, abated nothing of their 
 stoutness; but arming their youth, conveying their 
 d Post Christ. 83. e Poet Christ. 84. 
 
Book II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 495 
 
 wives and children to places of safety, in frequent as- 
 semblies, and by solemn covenants bound themselves 
 to mutual assistance ag-ainst the common enemy. About 
 the same time a cohort of Germans having' slain their 
 centurion with other Roman officers in a mutiny, and 
 for fear of punishment fled on shipboard, launched 
 forth in three light galleys without pilot ;f and by tide 
 or weather carried round about the coast, using piracy 
 where they landed, while their ships held out, and as 
 their skill served them, with various fortune, were the 
 first discoverers to the Romans that Britain was an 
 island. * The following summer, Agricola having 
 before sent his navy to hover on the coast, and with 
 sundry and uncertain landings to divert and disunite 
 the Britons, himself with a power best appointed for 
 expedition, wherein also were many Britons, whom he 
 had long tried, both valiant and faithful, marches on- 
 ward to the mountain Grampius, where the British, 
 above thirty thousand, were now lodged, and still in- 
 creasing; for neither would their old men, so many as 
 were yet vigorous and lusty, be left at home, lonp prac- 
 tised in war, and every one adorned with some badge, 
 orcognizance of his warlike deeds long ago. Of whom 
 Galgacus, both by birth and merit the prime leader to 
 their courage, though of itself hot and violent, is by 
 his rough oratory, in detestation of servitude and the 
 Roman yoke, said to have added much more eagerness 
 of fight, testified by their shouts and barban)us ap- 
 plauses.. As much did on the other side Agricola exhort 
 his soldiers to victory and glory ; as much the 
 soldiers by his firm and well-grounded exhortations 
 were all on a fire to the onset. But first he orders them 
 on this sort : Of eight thousand auxiliary foot he makes 
 his middle ward, on the wings three tliousand horse, 
 the legions as a reserve, stood in array before the camp ; 
 either to seize the victory won without their own haz- 
 ard, or to keep up the battle if it should need. The 
 British powers on the hill side, as might best serve for 
 show and terrour, stood in their battalions ; the first on 
 even ground, the next rising behind, as the hill ascend- 
 ed. The field between rung with the noise of horse- 
 men and chariots ranging up and down. Agricola 
 doubting to be overwinged, stretches out his front, 
 though somewhat with the thinnest, insomuch that 
 many advised to bring up the legions : yet he not al- 
 tering, alights from his horse, and stands on foot before 
 the ensigns. The fight begjin aloof, and the Britons 
 had a certain skill with their broad swashing swords 
 and short bucklers either to strike aside, or to bear off", 
 the darts of their enemy ; and withal to send back 
 showers of their own. Until Agricola discerning that 
 those little targets and unwieldy glaves ill pointed, 
 would soon become ridiculous against the thrust and 
 close, commanded three Batavian cohorts, and two of 
 the Tungrians exercised and armed for close fight, to 
 draw up, and come to handy strokes. The Batavians, 
 as they were commanded, running in upon them, now 
 with their long tucks thrusting at the face, now with 
 their piked targets bearing them down, had made good 
 riddance of them that stood below; and for haste omit- 
 
 f Dion. 1. 66. g Post Christ. 85. 
 
 ting further execution, began apace to advance up hill, 
 seconded now by all the other cohorts. Meanwhile 
 the horsemen flee, the charioteers mix themselves 
 to fight among the foot, where many of their horse 
 also fallen in disorderly, were now more a mischief 
 to their own, than before a terrour to their ene- 
 mies. The battle was a confused heap, the ground 
 unequal ; men, horses, chariots, crowded pellmell ; 
 sometimes in little room, by and by in large, fighting, 
 rushing, felling, overbearing, overturning. They on 
 the hill, which were not yet come to blows, perceiving 
 the fewness of their enemies, came down amain ; and 
 had enclosed the Romans unawares behind, but that 
 Agricola with a strong body of horse, which he reserved 
 for such a purpose, repelled them back as fast ; and 
 others drawn off the front, were commanded to wheel 
 about and charge them on the backs. Then were the 
 Romans clearly masters ; they follow, they wound, 
 they take, and to take more, kill whom they take : the 
 Britons, in whole troops with weapons in their hands 
 one while fleeing the pursuer, anon without weapons 
 desperately running upon the slayer. But of all them, 
 when once they got the woods to their shelter, with 
 fresh boldness made head again, and the forwardest on 
 a sudden they turned and slew, the rest so hampered, 
 as had not Agricola, who was every where at hand, 
 sent out his readiest cohorts, with a part of his horse to 
 alight and scour the woods, they had received a foil in 
 the midst of victory ; but following with a close and 
 orderly pursuit, the Britons fled again, and were to- 
 tally scattered ; till night and weariness ended the 
 chase. And of them that day ten thousand fell ; of 
 the Romans three hundred and forty, among whom 
 Aulus Atticus the leader of a cohort ; carried with heat 
 of youth and the fierceness of his horse too far on. The 
 Romans jocund of this victory, and the spoil they got, 
 spent the night; the vanquished wandering about the 
 field, both men and women, some lamenting, some 
 calling their lost friends, or carrying off their wounded ; 
 others forsaking, some burning, their own houses; and 
 it was certain enough, that there were who with a 
 stem compassion laid violent hands on their wives and 
 children, to prevent the more violent hands of hostile 
 injury. Next day appearing, manifested more plainly 
 the greatness of their loss received ; every where silence, 
 desolation, houses burning afar off, not a man seen, all 
 fled, and doubtful whither : such word the scouts bring- 
 ing in from all parts, and the summer now spent, no 
 fit season to disperse a war, the Roman general leads 
 his army among the Horestians ; by whom hostages 
 being given, he commands his admiral with a sufficient 
 navy to sail round the coast of Britain ; hinj^elf with 
 slow marches, that bis delay in passing might serve to 
 awe those new conquered nations, bestows his army in 
 their winter-quarters. The fleet also having fetched a 
 prosperous and speedy compass about the isle, put in 
 at the haven Trutulensis, now Richburgh near Sand- 
 wich, from whence it first set out:'' and now likeliest, 
 if not two years before, as was mentioned, the Romans 
 might discover and subdue the isles of Orkney ; which 
 
 , li Camden. Juven. sat. 3. 
 
496 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 others with less reason, following' Eusebius and Oro- 
 sius, attribute to the deeds of Claudius. These perpe- 
 tual exploits abroad won him wide fame : with Donii- 
 tian, under whom great virtue was as punishable as 
 open crime, won him hatred.'' For he maligning the 
 renown of these his acts, in shew decreed him honours, 
 in secret devised his ruin. ' Agricola therefore com- 
 manded home for doing too much of what he was sent 
 to do, left the province to his successor quiet and se- 
 cure. Whether he, as is conjectured, were Salustius 
 Lucullus, or before him some other, for Suetonius only 
 names him legate of Britain under Doniitian ; but fur- 
 ther of him, or aught else done here until the time of 
 Hadrian, is no where plainly to be found. Some gather 
 by a preface in Tacitus to the book of his histories, 
 that what Agricola won here, was soon after by Do- 
 mitian either through want of valour lost, or through 
 envy neglected. And Juvenal the poet speaks of Arvi- 
 ragas in these days, and not before, king of Britain ; 
 who stood so well in his resistance, as not only to be 
 talked of at Rome, but to be held matter of a glorious 
 triumph, if Domitian could take him captive, or over- 
 come him. Then also Claudia Rufina the daughter of 
 a Briton, and w ife of Pudence a Roman senator, lived 
 at Rome famous by the verse of Martial for beauty, 
 wit, and learning. The next we hear of Britain, is, 
 that when Trajan was emperor, it revolted, and was 
 subdued. But Hadrian next entering on the empire,"" 
 they soon unsulnlued themselves. Julius Severus, saith 
 Dion, then governed the island, a prime soldier of that 
 age : he being called away to suppress the Jews then 
 in tumult left things at such a pass, as caused the em- 
 peror in person to take a journey hither;" where many 
 things he reformed, and, as Augustus and Tiberius 
 counselled, to gird the empire within moderate bounds, 
 he raised a wall with great stakes driven in deep, and 
 fastened together, in manner of a strong mound, four- 
 score mile in length, to divide what was Roman from 
 Barbarian ; as his manner was to do in other frontiers 
 of his empire, where great rivers divided not the limits. 
 No ancient author names the place, but old inscriptions, 
 and the ruin itself, yet testifies where it went along be- 
 tween Solway frith by Carlisle, and the mouth of 
 Tine." Hadrian having quieted the island, took it for 
 honour to be titled on his coin, " The restorer of Bri- 
 tain." In his time also Priscus Licinius, as appears 
 by an old inscription, was lieutenant here. Antoninus 
 Pius reigning,P the Brigantes ever least patient of 
 foreign servitude, breaking in upon Genounia (which 
 Camden guesses to be Guinethia or North Wales) part 
 of the Roman province, were with the loss of much ter- 
 ritory ddven back by Lollius Urbicus, who drew an- 
 other wall of turves; in likelihood much beyond the 
 former, and as Camden proves, between the frith of 
 Dunbritton, and of Edinburgh ; to hedge out incur- 
 sions from the north. And Seius Saturninus, as is col- 
 lected from the digests,*! had charge here of the Roman 
 navy. With like success did Marcus Aurclius,"" next 
 emperor, by his legate Calphurnius Agricola, finish here 
 
 i Eotrop. 1. 7. k Dion. l.M. I Po»t Christ. 86. 
 
 n NpartinDu* in vji. Hadriui. n Post Christ. 12S. Spartianns ibid. 
 
 o Cunden. p Pausan. archad. q Cap. vie. Aut. Post Christ. 144. 
 
 a new war : Commodus after him obtaining the empin . 
 In his time, as among so many different accounts ma\ 
 seem most probable, » Lucius a supposed king in some 
 part of Britain, the first of any king in Europe, that we 
 read of, received the Christian faith, and this nation 
 the first by public authority professed it : a high and 
 singular grace from above, if sincerity and perseverance 
 went along, otherwise an empty boast, and to be feared 
 the verifying of that true sentence, " The first shall be 
 last." And indeed the praise of this action is more 
 proper to King Lucius, than common to the nation ; 
 who.se first profes.sing by public authority was no real 
 commendation of their true faith, which had appeared 
 more sincere and praise-worthy, whether in this or 
 other nation, first professed without public authority 
 or against it, might else have been but outward con- 
 formity. Lucius in our Monmouth story is made the 
 second by descent from Marius; Marius the son of 
 Arviragus is there said to have overthrown the Picts 
 then first coming out of Scythia, slain Roderic their 
 king ; and in sign of victory to have set up a monu- 
 ment of stone in the country since called Westmaria ; 
 but these things have no foundation. Coilus the son 
 of Marius, all his reign, which was just and peaceable, 
 holding great amity with the Romans, left it hereditary , 
 to Lucius. He (if Beda err not, living near five hun- 
 dred years after, yet our ancientest author of this 
 port) sent to Elutherius, then bishop of Rome,* ad 
 improbable letter, as some of the contents discover, 
 desiring that by his appointment he and his people 
 might receive Christianity. From whom two religious 
 doctors, named in our chronicles Faganus and Deru- 
 vianus, forthwith sent, are said to have converted and 
 baptized well nigh the whole nation :" thence Lucius 
 to have had the surname of Leverraaur, that is to say, 
 great light. Nor yet then first was the christian faith 
 here known, but even from the latter dajs of Tiberius, 
 as Gildas confidently affirms, taught and propagated, 
 and that as some say by Simon Zelotes, as others by 
 Joseph of Arimathea, Barnabas, Paul, Peter, and their 
 prime disciples. But of these matters, variously writ- j 
 ten and believed, ecclesiastic historians can best deter- ! 
 mine ; as the best of them do, with little credit given 
 to the particulars of such uncertain relations. As for 
 Lucius, they write," that after a long reign he was 
 buried in Gloucester ; but dying without issue, left the 
 kingdom in great commotion. By truer testimony J' 
 we find that the greatest war which in those days 
 busied Commodus, was in this island. For the nations 
 northward, notwithstanding the wall raised to keep 
 them out, breaking in upon the Roman province, 
 w astcd wide ; and both the army and the leader that 
 came against them wholly routed, and destroyed ; 
 which put the emperor in such a fear, as to dispatch 
 hither one of his best commanders, Ulpius Marcellus.* 
 He a man endowed with all nobleness of mind, frugal 
 and temperate, mild and magnanimous, in war bold 
 and watchful, invincible against lucre, and the assault 
 of bribes; what with his valour, and these his other 
 
 r Post Christ. I(K>. Digest. I. 36. s Bcda. t Post Christ 181. 
 
 11 Nenuius. x Geoff. Moo. y Dion. I. 78. 
 
 z Post Christ. 183. 
 
Book 11. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 497 
 
 virtues, quickly ended lliis war that looked so danger- 
 ous, and had himself like to have been ended by the 
 ^peace which he broug-ht home, for presuming- to be so 
 worth}- and so good under the envy of so worthless 
 and so bad an emperor. "After whose departure the 
 Roman leg-ions fell to sedition among themselves ; fif- 
 teen hundred of them went to Rome in name of the 
 rest, and were so terrible to Commodus himself, as that 
 )to please them he delivered up to their care Perennis 
 ■the captain of his guard, for having in the British war 
 removed their leaders, who were senators, and in their 
 places put those of the equestrian order. Notwith- 
 standing which compliance, they endeavoured here to 
 set up another emperor against him ; and Helvius Per- 
 tinax,'' who succeeded governour, found it a work so 
 difficult to appease them, that once in a mutiny he was 
 left for dead among many slain ; and though afterwards 
 he severely punished the tumulters, was fain at length 
 to seek a dismission from his charge. After him Clo- 
 dius Albinus'^ took the government; but he, for having 
 to the soldiers made an oration against monarchy, by 
 the appointment of Commodus was bid resign to Junius 
 Severus.'' But Albinus in those troublesome times 
 ensuing under the short reign of Pertinax and Didius 
 Julianus,« found means to keep in his hands the go- 
 vernment of Britain ; although Septimius Severus,*^ 
 who next held the empire, sent hither Heraclitus to 
 displace him ; but in vain, for Albinus with all the 
 British powers and those of Gallia met Sevenis about 
 Lyons in France,8and fought a bloody battle with him 
 for the empire, though at last vanquished and slain. 
 The government of Britain'' Severus divided between 
 two deputies ; till then one legate was thought suf- 
 ficient ; the north he committed to Virius Lupus, 
 i Where the Meatae rising in arms, and the Caledonians, 
 though they had promised the contrary to Lupus,"* 
 preparing to defend them, so hard beset, he was com- 
 pelled to buy his peace, and a few prisoners with great 
 sums of money. But hearing that Severus had now 
 brought to an end his other wars, he writes him plainly 
 the state of things here,' " the Britons of the north made 
 ■war upon him, broke into the province, and harassed 
 all the countries nigh them, that there needed suddenly 
 either more aid, or himself in person." Severus, though 
 now much weakened with age and the gout, yet de- 
 sirous to leave some memorial of his warlike achieve- 
 ments here, as he had done in other places, and besides to 
 withdraw by this means his two sons from the pleasures 
 of Rome, and his soldiers from idleness, with a mighty 
 power, far sooner than could be expected, arrives in 
 Britain. ""The northern people much daunted with the 
 report of so great forces brought over with him, and yet 
 more preparing, send embassadors to treat of peace, and 
 to excuse their former doings. The emperor now loth 
 to return home without some memorable thing done, 
 whereby he might assume to his other titles the addi- 
 tion of Britannicus, delays his answer, and quickens 
 his preparations; till in the end, when all things were 
 
 a Lamprid. in conim. Post Christ. 186. b Capitolin. in Pert, 
 
 c Capitolin. in Alb. d Post Christ. 193. e Dion Dili. .)ul. 
 
 f Sparlian. in .Sever. g Herod. I. 3. li Ibid. 
 
 i Digest, 1. 28. tit. 6. k Dion. 1 Herod. 1. 3. 
 
 in readiness to follow them, they are dismissed without 
 effect. His principal care was to have many bridges 
 laid over bogs and rotten moors, that his soldiers might 
 have to fight on sure footing. For it seems through 
 lack of tillage, the northen parts were then, as Ireland 
 is at this day ; and the inhabitants in like manner 
 wanted to retire, and defend themselves in such watery 
 places half naked. He also being past Adrian's wall," 
 cut down woods, made ways through hills, fastened 
 and filled up unsound andplashy fens. Notwithstand- 
 ing all this industry used, the enemy kept himself so 
 cunningly within his best advantages, and seldom ap- 
 pearing, so opportunely found his times to make irrup- 
 tion upon the Romans, when they were most in straits 
 and difficulties, sometimes training them on with a few 
 cattle turned out, and drawn within ambush cruelly 
 handling them, that many a time enclosed in the midst 
 of sloughs and quagmires, they chose rather themselves 
 to kill such as were faint and could not shift away, 
 than leave them there a prey to the Caledonians.o 
 Thus lost Severus, and by sickness in those noisome 
 places, no less than fifty thousand men : and yet de- 
 sisted not, though for weakness carried in a litter, till 
 he had marched through with his army to the utmost 
 northern verge of the isle : and the Britons offering 
 peace, were compelled to lose much of their country 
 not before subject to the Romans.P Severus on the 
 frontiers of what he had firmly conquered, builds a 
 wall cross the island from sea to sea ; which one author 
 judges the most magnificent of all his other deeds; 
 and that he thence received the style of Britannicus ;q 
 in length a hundred and thirty-two miles. Orosius 
 adds it fortified with a deep trench, and between certain 
 spaces many towers or battlements. The place whereof 
 some will have to be in Scotland, the same which Lol- 
 lius Urbicus had walled before. ■" Others affirm it only 
 Hadrian's work re-edified ; both plead authorities and 
 the ancient track yet visible : but this I leave among 
 the studious of these antiquities to be discussed more at 
 large. While peace held, the empress Julia meeting 
 on a time certain British ladies, and discoursing with 
 the wife of Argentocoxus a Caledonian, cast out a scoff 
 against the looseness of our island women; whose 
 manner then was to use promiscuously the company of 
 divers men. Whom straight the British woman boldly 
 thus answered : " Much better do we Britons fulfil the 
 work of nature than you Romans ; we with the best 
 men accustom openly; you with the basest commit 
 private adulteries." Whether she thought this answer 
 might serve to justify the practice of her country, as 
 when vices are compared, the greater seems to justify 
 the less; or whether the law and custom wherein she 
 was bred, had whipped out of her conscience the better 
 dictate of nature, and not convinced her of the shame, 
 certain it is, that whenas other nations used a liberty 
 not unnatural for one man to have many wives, the 
 Britons* altogether as licentious, but more absurd and 
 preposterous in their license, had one or many wives 
 
 m Post Christ. 208. n Post Christ. C09. 
 
 p Post Christ. 210. Spartianus in Sever. 
 
 q Eutropii PeaD. Oros. 1. 7. Cassid. Chro. 
 
 r Buchanan. s Caesar. 
 
 o Dion. 
 
498 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 in common amongf ten or twelve husbands ; and those 
 fur the most part incestuously. But no sooner was Se- 
 verus returned into the province, than the Britons take 
 arms ag^ain. Against whom Severus, worn out with 
 labours and infirmity, sends Antoninus his ehlest son, 
 expressly commanding him to spare neither sex jior 
 age. But Antoninus, who had his wicked thoughts 
 taken up with the contriving of his father's death, a 
 safer enemy than a son, did the Britons not much de- 
 triment. Whereat Severus, more overcome with grief 
 than any other malady, ended his life at York.' After 
 whose decease Antoninus Caracalla liis impious son, 
 concluding peace with the Britons, took hostages and 
 departed to Rome. The conductor of all this northern 
 war Scottish writers name Donaldus, he of Monmoutli 
 Fulgenius, in the rest of his relation nothing worth. 
 From hence the Roman empire declining apace, good 
 historians growing scarce, or lost, have left us little 
 else but fragments for many years ensuing. Under 
 Gordian the emperor we find, by the inscription" of an 
 altar-stone, that Nonius Philippus governed here. Un- 
 der Galienus we read there was a strong and general 
 revolt from the Roman legate. Of the thirty tyrants 
 which not long after took upon them the style of em- 
 peror,* by many coins found among us, Lollianus, Vic- 
 torinus, Postbumus, the Tetrici, and Marius are con- 
 jectured to have risen or born great sway in this 
 island.^ Whence Porphyrins, a philosopher then liv- 
 ing, said that Britain was a soil fruitful of tyrants ; 
 and is noted to be the first author that makes mention 
 of the Scottish nation. While Probus was emperor,z 
 Bonosus the son of a rhetorician, bred up a Spaniard, 
 though by descent a Briton, and a matchless drinker; 
 nor much to be blamed, if, as they write, he were still 
 wisest in his cups; haviug attained in warfare to high 
 honours, and lastly in his charge over the German ship- 
 ping, willingly, as was thought, miscarried, trusting 
 on his power with the western armies, and joined with 
 Proculus, bore himself a while for emperor ; but after 
 a long and bloody fight at CuUen, vanquished by 
 Probus, he hanged himself, and gave occasion of a 
 ready jest made on him for his much drinking :" 
 " Here hangs a tankard, not a man." After this, 
 Probus with much wisdom prevented a new rising 
 here in Britain by the severe loyalty of Victorinus a 
 Moor, at whose entreaty he had placed here that go- 
 vemour which rebelled. For the emperor upbraiding 
 him with the disloyalty of whom he had commended, 
 Victorinus undertaking to set all right again, bastes 
 thither, and finding indeed the govemour to intend 
 sedition, by some contrivance not mentioned in the 
 story, slew him, whose name** some imagine to be 
 Cornelius Lelianus. They write also that Probus 
 gave leave to the Spaniards, Gauls, and Britons to 
 plant vines, and to make wine ; and having subdued 
 the Vandals and Burgundians in a great battle,<: sent 
 over many of them hither to inhabit, where thoy did 
 good service to the Romans, when any insurrection 
 
 t Po»t Christ. 211. Spartiaous in Sever. u Post Christ. 242. 
 
 Camb. Cumber. x Post Christ. 259. Eumeo. Panes. Const. 
 
 y Port Christ. 267. Camden, Gildas. Mieronym. i Post Christ. 
 
 482. Vopisc. in Bonas. a Zozim. I. I. b Carnd. 
 
 c Zozimus. d Post Christ. 283. VopiK. in Carin. 
 
 happened in the isle. After whom Carus emperor 
 going against the Persians, left Carinus'' one of his 
 sons to govern among other western provinces thi^ 
 island with imperial authority ; but him Dioclesian, 
 saluted emperor by the eastern arms, overcame and 
 slew. About which time Carausius,« a man of low 
 parentage, bom in Menapia, about the parts of Cleve- 
 and Juliers, who through all military degrees was 
 made at length admiral of the Belgic and Armoricseas, 
 then much infested by the Franks and Saxons, what 
 he took from the pirates, neither restorins" to the owner>; 
 nor accountinii' to the public, but enriching himself, 
 and yet not scouring the seas, but conniving rather at 
 those sea robbers, was grown at length too great a de- 
 linquent to be less than an emperor ;^ for fear and 
 guiltiness in those days made emperors oftener than 
 merit: and understanding that Maximianus Hercu- 
 lius,« Dioclesian's adopted son, was come against him 
 into Gallia, passed over with the navy, which he had 
 made his own, into Britain, and possessed the island. 
 Where he built a new*" fleet after the Roman fashion, 
 got into his power the legion that was left here in gar- 
 rison, other outlandish cohorts detained, listed the very 
 merchants and factors of Gallia, and with the allure- 
 ment of spoil invited great numbers of other barbarous 
 nations to his part, and trained them to sea service, 
 wherein the Romans at that time were grown so out of 
 skill, that Carausius with his navy did at sea what he 
 listed, robbing on every coast; whereby Maximilian, 
 able to come no nearer than the shore of Boloigne, was 
 forced to conclude a peace with Carausius, and yield 
 him Britain ;' as one fittest to guard the province there 
 against inroads from the North But not long afterk 
 having assumed Constantius Chlorus to the dignity of 
 Ciesar, sent him against Carausius ; who in the mean 
 while had made himself strong both within the land 
 and without.' Galfred of Monmouth writes, that hr 
 made the Picts his confederates ; to whom, lately come 
 out of Scythia, he gave Albany to dwell in : and it is 
 observed, that before his time the Picts are not known 
 to have been any where mentioned, and then first bv 
 Eumenius a rhetorician."* He repaired and fortified 
 the wall of Severus with seven castles, and a round 
 house of smooth stone on the bank of Carron, which 
 river, saith Ninnius, was of his name so called ; he 
 built also a triumphal arch in remembrance of sonn 
 victory there obtained." In France he held Gessori:i 
 cum, or Boloigne ; and all the Franks, which had In 
 his permission seated themselves in Belgia, were at his 
 devotion. But Constantius hasting into Gallia, besieges 
 Boloigne, and with stones and timber obstructing the 
 port, keeps out all relief that could be sent in by Ca- 
 rausius. Who ere Constantius, with the great fleet 
 which he had prepared, could arrive hither, was slain 
 treacherously by Alectus one of his friends, who 
 longed to step into his place ; when he seven years, 
 and worthily as some say, as others tyrannically, had 
 ruled the island. So much the more did Constantius 
 
 e Post Christ. 284. Aurel. Victor. He C.-B«ar. f Post Christ. 2K5. 
 
 Eutrop. Oros. k Eumen. Panr^. 2. h Post Christ. 28<'i. 
 
 j Victor. Eutrop. k Post Christ. 291. I Buchaiun. 
 
 m Paneg. 2. o Panef. Sigonius. o Post Christ. 892. 
 
Book II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 499 
 
 prosecute that opportuuitv, before Alectiis could well 
 strengthen his affairs : P and though in ill weather, 
 putting to sea with all urgency from several havens to 
 spread the terrour of his landing, and the doubt where 
 to expect him, in a mist passing the British fleet un- 
 seen, that lay scouting near the isle of Wight, no sooner 
 got ashore, but fires his own ships, to leave no hope of 
 refuge but in victory. Alectus also, though now much 
 dismayed, transfers his fortune to a battle on the shore; 
 but encountered by Asclepiodotus, captain of the prw- 
 torian bands, and desperately rushing on, unmindful 
 both of ordering his men, or bringing them all to fight, 
 save the accessories of his treason, and his outlandish 
 hirelings, is overthrown, and slain with little or no loss 
 to the Romans, but great execution on the Franks. 
 His body was found almost naked in the field, for his 
 purple robe he had thrown aside, lest it should descry 
 him, unwilling to be found. The rest taking flight to 
 Ijondon, and purposing with the pillage of that city to 
 escape by sea, are met by another part of the Roman 
 army, whom the mist at sea disjoining bad by chance 
 brought tliither, and with a new slaughter chased 
 through all the streets. The Britons, their wives also 
 and children, with great joy go out to meet Constan- 
 tius, as one whom they acknowledge their deliverer 
 from bondage and insolence. All this seems by Eume- 
 nius,'' who then lived, and was of Constantius's hous- 
 hold, to have been done in the course of one continued 
 action; so also thinksSigonius, a learned writer: though 
 all others allow three years to the tyranny of Alectus. 
 In these days were great store of workmen, and excel- 
 lent buildei"s in this island, whom, after the alteration 
 of things here, the ^duans in Burgundy entertained 
 to build their temples, and public edifices. Dioclcsian 
 having hitlicrto successfully used his valour against the 
 enemies of his empire, uses now his rage in a bloody 
 persecution against his obedient and harmless christian 
 subjects : from the feeling whereof neither was this 
 island, though most remote, far enough removed.   
 Among them here who suffered gloriously, Aron, and 
 Julius of Caerleon upon Usk, but chiefly Alban of Veru- 
 1am, were most renowned ; the story of whose martyr- 
 dom soiled, and worse martyred with the fabling zeal 
 of some idle fancies, more fond of miracles, than appre- 
 hensive of truth, deserves not longer digression. Con- 
 stantius, after Diodesian, dividing the empire with Ga- 
 lerius, had Britain among his other provinces ; where 
 either preparing or returning with a victory from an ex- 
 pedition against the Caledonians, he died at York.* His 
 son Constantine, who happily came post from Rome to 
 Boloigne, just about the time, saith Eumenius, that his 
 father was setting sail his last time hither, and not long 
 before his death, was by him on his deathbed named, 
 and after his funeral, by the whole army saluted empe- 
 ror. There goes a fame, and that seconded by most of 
 our own historians, though not those the ancientest, 
 that Constantine was born in this island, his mother 
 Helena the daughter of Coilus a British prince, not 
 
 p Catnd.ex Nin Eumen. Pan. ?. Oros. 1. 7. c. 55. q F.umen. 
 
 r Gildas. s Author, ign. post Marcellin. Valesii. Post Christ. 306. 
 
 Eutrop. Eumen. idem. Auth. ignot. 
 t Idem vit. Auth. ignot. Euseb. Const. Oros. 1. 7. 25cap. Cass. Chron. 
 u Post Christ. .307. Sigon. 
 
 2 K 
 
 sure the father of King Lucius, whose sister she must 
 then be, for that would detect her too old by a hundred 
 years to be the mother of Constantine. But to salve 
 this incoherence, another Coilus is feigned to be then 
 earl of Colchester. To this therefore the Roman authors 
 give no testimony', except a passage or two in the 
 Panegyrics, about the sense whereof much is argued : 
 others ' nearest to those times clear the doubt, and write 
 him certainly born of a mean woman, Helena, the con- 
 cubine of Constautius, at Naisus in Dardania. " How- 
 beit, ere his departure hence, he seems to have had 
 some bickerings in the North, which by reason of more 
 urgent affairs composed, he passes into Gallia ; and 
 after four years returns either to settle or to alter the 
 state of things here, until a new war against Maxentius 
 called him back, leaving Pacatianus his vicegerent. 
 " He deceasing, Constantine his eldest son enjoyed for 
 his part of the empire, with all the provinces that lay 
 on this side the Alps, this island also. ^ But falling to 
 civil war with Constans his brother, was by him slain ; 
 who witli his third brother Constantius coming into 
 Britain, seized it as victor. Against him rose Mag- 
 nentius,* one of his chief commanders, by some aflirmed 
 the son of a Briton, he having gained on his side great 
 forces, contested with Constantius in many battles for 
 the sole empire; but vanquished, in the end slew him- 
 self. * Somewhat before this time Gratianus Funarius, 
 the father of Valentinian, afterwards emperor, had chief 
 command of those armies which the Romans kept here, 
 i* And the Arian doctrine which then divided Christen- 
 dom, wrought also in this island no small disturbance; 
 a land, saith Gildas, greedy of every thing new, sted- 
 fast in nothing. At last *^ Constantius appointed a 
 synod of more than four hundred bishops to assemble 
 at Ariminum on the emperor's charges, which the rest 
 all refusing, three only of the British, poverty constrain- 
 ing them, accepted ; though the other bishops among 
 them offered to have born their charges ; esteeming it 
 more honourable to live on the public, than to be ob- 
 noxious to any private purse. Doubtless an ingenuous 
 mind, and far above the presbyters of our age ; who 
 like well to sit in assembly on the public stipend, but 
 liked not the poverty that caused these to do so. After 
 this Martinus was deputy of the province ; who being 
 offended with the cruelty which Paulus, an inquisitor 
 sent from Constantius, exercised in his inquiry after 
 thosemilitary officers who had conspired with Magnen- 
 tius, was himself laid hold on as an accessory : at which 
 enraged he runs at Paulus with his drawn sword ; but 
 failing to kill him, turns it on himself. Next to whom, 
 as may be guessed, Alipius was made deputy. In the 
 mean time Julian,*' whom Constantius had made 
 Cetsar, having recovered much territory about the 
 Rhine, where the German inroads before had long in- 
 sulted, to relieve those countries almost ruined, causes 
 eight hundred pinnaces to be built ; and with them, 
 by frequent voyages, plenty of corn to be fetched in 
 from Britain ; which even then was the usual bounty 
 
 X Post Christ. 311. Camd. Ammian. I. 20. and in cum Valesius. 
 y Post Christ. 340. Libanius in Basilico. z Post Christ. 343. Camd. 
 
 ex Firmico. a Post Christ. .350. Camden. 
 
 b Post Christ. 353. Ammian. c Post Christ. 359. 
 
 d Liban. Or. 10. Zozim. I. 3. Marcel. 1. 18. 
 
500 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 of this soil to those parts, as ofl as French and Saxon 
 pirates hindered not the transportation.* While t 
 Constantius yet reijjned, the Scots and Picts breakings 
 in upon the Northern confines, Julian, beinjj at Paris, 
 sends over I.upicinus, a well-tried soldier, but a proud 
 and covetous man, who with a power of light-armed 
 Herulians, Batavians, and Moesians, in the midst of 
 winter sailing from Boloigiie, arrives at Rutupia*, 
 seated on the opposite shore, and comes to London, to 
 consult there about the war ; but soon after was recalled 
 by Julian, then chosen emperor. Under whom we read 
 not of aught happening here, only that Palladius, one 
 of his great officers, was hither banished. R This year, 
 Valentiiiian being emperor, the Atticots, Pict<s, and Scots, 
 roving up and down, and last the Saxons with perpetual 
 landings and invasions harried the South coast of 
 Britain; slew Nectaridius who governed the sea 
 borders, and Bulchobaudes with his forces by an am- 
 bush. With which news Valentinian not a little per- 
 plexed, sends first Severus high steward of his house, 
 and soon recalls him ; then Jovinus, who intimating 
 the necessity of greater supplies, he sends at length 
 Theodosius, a man of tried valour and experience, 
 father to the first emperor of that name. He ^ with 
 selected numbers out of the legions, and cohorts, crosses 
 the sea from Boloigne to Rutupiae ; from whence with 
 the Batavians, Herulians, and other legions that ar- 
 rived soon after, he marches to London ; and dividing 
 his forces into several bodies, sets upon the dispersed 
 and plundering enemy, laden with spoil ; from whom 
 recovering the booty which they led away, and were 
 forced to leave there with their lives, he restores all to 
 the right owners, save a small portion to his wearied 
 soldiers, and entei-s London victoriously ; which, before 
 in many straits and difficulties, was now revived as with 
 a great deliverance. The numerous enemy with whom 
 he had to deal, was of different nations, and the war 
 scattered : which Theodosius, getting daily some intel- 
 ligence from fugitives and prisoners, resolves to carry 
 on by sudden parties and surprisals, rather than set 
 battles; nor omits he to proclaim indemnity to such 
 as would lay down arms, and accept of peace, which 
 brought in many. Yet all this not ending the work, 
 he requires that Civilis, a man of much uprightness, 
 might be sent him, to be as deputy of the island, and 
 Dulcitius a famous captain. Thus was Theodosius 
 busied, besetting with ambushes the roving enemy, 
 repressing his roads, restoring cities and castles to 
 their former safety and defence, laying every where 
 the firm foundation of a long peace, when ' Valentinus 
 a Pannonian, for some great offence banished into 
 Britain, conspiring with certain exiles and soldiers 
 against Theodosius, whose worth he dreaded as the only 
 obstacle to his greater design of gaining the isle into 
 his power, is discovered, and with his chief accomplices 
 delivered over to condign punishment: against the 
 rest, Theodosius with a wise lenity suffered not inquisi- 
 tion to proceed too rigorously, lest the fear thereof ap- 
 
 '■ Amni. I. 23. 
 
 f Post Christ 563. Amm. I. eo. 
 
 'n*** 5r^'■"•• ^*- Amm. I. 56, 27. h Post Christy .167. 
 
 ' Pj«« < hnst. ViB. Amm. I. C8. Zozim. I. 4. 
 k I>wH Christ, qx Amm. I. 29. I Zozim. I. i. Sigoii. 
 
 m Proi. Aqgiunit. Cliroii. Post Christ. 383. 
 
 pertaining to so many, occasion might arise of new 
 trouble in a time so unsettled. This done, he applies 
 himself to reform things out of order, raises on the con- 
 fines many strong holds ; and in them appoints due 
 and diligent watches : and so reduced all things out 
 of danger, that the province, which but lately was un- 
 der command of the enemy, became now wholly Ro- 
 man, new named Valentia of Yalentinian,and the city 
 of London, Augusta. Thus Theodosius nobly acquit- 
 ting himself in all affairs, with general applause of the 
 whole province, accompanied to the sea-side returns to 
 Valentinian. Who about five yeare after sent hither 
 Fraomarius, a king of the Almans,"* with authority of 
 a tribune over his own country forces; which then, 
 both for number and good service, were in high esteem. 
 Against Gratian, who succeeded in the Western em- 
 pire, Maximus a Spaniard, and one who had served in 
 the British wars with younger Theodosius, (for he 
 also, either with his father, or not long after him, 
 seems to have done something in this island,) and now 
 general of the Roman armies here, either discontented 
 that Theodosius was prefeired before him to the em- 
 pire, or constrained by the soldiers who hated Gratian, 
 assumes the imperial purple ;"" and having attained 
 victory against the Scots and Picts, Avilh the flower 
 and strength of Britain, passes into France ; there 
 slays Gratian, and without much difficulty, the 
 space of "five years obtains his part of the empire, 
 overthrown at length, and slain by Theodosius. With 
 whom perishing most of his followei-s, or not returning 
 out of Armorica, which Maximus had given them to 
 possess, the South of Britain by this means exhausted 
 of her youth, and what there was of Roman soldiers on 
 the confines drawn off, became a prey to savage inva- 
 sions ;° of Scots from the Irish seas, of Saxons from 
 the German, of Picts from the North. Ai^ainst them, 
 firstP Chrysanthus the son of Marcian a bishop, made 
 deputy of Britain by Theodosius, demeaned himself 
 worthily : then Stilicho a man of great power, whom 
 Theodosius dying left protector of his son Honorius, 
 either came in person, or sending over sufficient aid, 
 repressed them, and as it seems new fortified the wall 
 against them. But that legion being called awaj-, 
 when the Roman armies from all parts hasted to re- 
 lieve Honorius,i then besieged in Asta of Piemont, by 
 Alaric the Goth, Britain was left exposed as before, to 
 those barbarous robbers. Lest any wonder how the 
 Scots came to infest Britain from the Irish sea, it must 
 be understood, that the Scots not many years bcf(»re 
 had been driven all out of Britain by Maximus ;>• and 
 their king Eugenius slain in fight, as their own annals 
 report: whereby, it seems, wandering up and down 
 without certain seat, they lived by scumming those 
 seas and shores as pirates. But more authentic writers 
 confirm us, that the Scots, whoever they be originally, 
 came first into Ireland, and dwelt there, and named it 
 Scotia long before the North of Britain took that name. 
 "Orosius, who lived at this time, writes that Inlatid 
 
 n GiUlM. Post Christ. .188. Uwla. Ninn. o Post Christ. .189. 
 
 p Socrat. I. 7. Claudian de laud. Stil. 1. S. and de Bello Gel. 
 
 q Post Ctirist. 402. , . „ . . 
 
 r F.thelwtrd Shx. an. B«de epit. in the year 565 ; and Bede, I. «. c. 4. 
 
 »Oro«. I. I. f. 2. 
 
Book II. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 501 
 
 was then inhabited by Scots, About this time,* thoug'h 
 troublesome, Pelagius a Briton found the leisure to 
 bring new and dangerous opinions into the church, 
 and is largely writ against by St. Austin. But the 
 Roman powers which were called into Italy, when 
 once the fear of Alaric was over, made return into se- 
 veral provinces ; and perhaps Victorinus of Tolosa, 
 whom Rutilius the poet much commends, might be 
 then prefect of this island ; if it were not he whom 
 Stilicho sent hither. Buchanan writes, that endeavour- 
 ing to reduce the Picts into a province, he gave the 
 occasion of their calling back Fergusius and the Scots, 
 whom Maximus with their help had quite driven out 
 of the island : and indeed the verses of that poet speak 
 him to have been active in those parts. But the time 
 which is assigned him later by Buchanan after Gra- 
 tianus Municeps, by Camden after Constantine the ty- 
 rant, accords not with that which follows in the plain 
 course of history. " For the Vandals having broke in 
 and wasted all Belgia, even to those places from 
 whence easiest passage is into Britain, the Roman 
 forces here, doubting to be suddenly invaded, were all 
 in uproar, and in tumultuous manner set up Marcus, 
 who it may seem was then deputy. But him not 
 found agreeable to their heady couj-ses, they as hastily 
 kill ; * for the giddy favour of a mutinying rout is as 
 dangerous as their fury. The like they do by^Gra- 
 tian a British Roman, in four months advanced, adored, 
 and destroyed. There was among them a common 
 soldier whose name was Constantine, with him on a 
 sudden so taken they are, upon the conceit put in them 
 of the luckiness in his name, as without other visible 
 merit to create him emperor. It fortuned that the 
 man had not his name for nouglii ; so well he knew 
 to lay hold, and make good use of an unexpected offer. 
 He therefore with a wakened spirit, to the extent of his 
 fortune dilating his mind, which in his mean condition 
 before lay contracted and shrunk up, orders with good 
 advice his military affairs : and with the whole force 
 of the province, and what of British was able to bear 
 arms, he passes into France, aspiring at least to an 
 equal share with Honorius in the empire. Where, by 
 the valour of Edobecus a Frank, and Gerontius a 
 Briton, and partly by persuasion, gaining all in his 
 way, he comes to Arles.^ With like felicity by bis son 
 Constans, whom of a monk he had made a Csesar, 
 and by the conduct of Gerontius he reduces all Spain 
 to his obedience. But Constans after this displacing 
 Gerontius, the affairs of Constantine soon went to 
 wreck; for he by this means alienated, set up Max- 
 imus one of his friends against him in Spain ;* and 
 passing into France, took Vienna by assault, and having 
 slain Constans in that city, calls on the Vandals against 
 Constantine ; who by him incited, as by him before 
 they had been repressed, breaking forward, overrun 
 most part of France. But when Constantius Comes, 
 the emperor's general, with a strong power came out 
 of Italy, •> Gerontius, deserted by his own forces, re- 
 tires into Spain ; %vhere also growing into contempt 
 
 t Post Christ. 405. 
 X Sozom. I. 9. 
 a Post Christ. 40Q. 
 
 u Post Christ. 407. Zozim. 1. 6. 
 y Oros. I. 7. z Po^t Christ. 408. 
 
 b Sozom. I. 9. 
 
 with the soldiers, after his flight out of France, by whom 
 his house in the night was beset,«= having first with a 
 few of his servants defended himself valiantly, and 
 slain above three hundred, though when his darts and 
 other weapons were spent he might have escaped at a 
 private door, as all his servants did, not enduring to 
 leave bis wife Nonnichia, w hom he loved, to the vio- 
 lence of an enraged crew, he first cuts off the head of 
 his friend Alanus, as was agreed ; next his wife, though 
 loth and delaying, yet by her entreated and importuned, 
 refusing to outlive her husband, he dispatched : for 
 which her resolution, Sozomenus an ecclesiastical 
 writer gives her high praise, both as a wife, and as a 
 christian. Last of all, against himself he turns his 
 sword ; but missing the mortal place, with his poniard 
 finishes the work. Thus far is pni-sued the story of a 
 famous Briton, related negligently by our other histo- 
 rians. As for Constantine, his ending was not answer- 
 able to his setting out ; for he with his other son Ju- 
 lian besieged by Constantius in Aries, and mistrusting 
 the change of his wonted success, to save his head, 
 poorly turns priest; but that not availing him, is car- 
 ried into Italy, and there put to death ; having four 
 years acted the emperor. While these things were 
 doing,'' the Britons at home, destitute of Roman aid, 
 and the chief strength of their own youth, that went 
 first with Maximus, then with Constantine, not return- 
 ing home, vexed and harassed by their wonted ene- 
 mies, bad sent messages to Honorius; but he at that 
 time not being able to defend Rome itself, which the 
 same year was taken by Alaric, advises them by his 
 letter to consult how best they might for their own 
 safety, and acquits them of the Roman jurisdiction.* 
 They therefore thus relinquished, and by all right the 
 government relapsing into their own hands, thenceforth 
 betook themselves to live after tiieir own laws, defend- 
 ing their bounds as well as they were able ; and the 
 Armoricans, who not long after were called the Britons 
 of France, followed their example. Thus expired this 
 great empire of the Romans ; first in Britain, soon 
 after in Italy itself: hnving born chief sway in this 
 island, though never thoroughly subdued, or all at 
 once in subjection, if we reckon from the coming in of 
 Julius to the taking of Rome by Alaric, in which year 
 Honorius wrote those letters of discharge into Britain, 
 the space of 462 years.f And with the empire fell also 
 what before in this Western world was chiefly Roman ; 
 learning, valour, eloquence, history, civility, and even 
 language itself, all these together, as it were, Avith 
 equal pace, diminishing and decaying. Henceforth 
 we are to steer by another sort of authoi"s ; near enough 
 to the things they write, as in their own country, if 
 that would serve ; in time not much belated, some of 
 equal age ; in expression barbarous, and to say how 
 judicious, I suspend a while : this we must expect; in 
 civil mattei*s to find them dubious relators, and still to 
 the best advantage of what they term Holy Church, 
 meaning indeed themselves: inmost other matters of 
 religion, blind, astonished, and struck with superstition 
 
 c Olympiodor. apud Photium. A Gildas, Beila, Zozim. 1,6. 
 
 e Procopius vauaalic. f Calvis. Sij-'ou. 
 
502 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 as with a plunet; in one wonl, Monks. Yet these 
 guides, where can he had no better, must be followed ; 
 in {fross, it may be true enough ; in circumstances 
 each man, as his judgment gives him, may reserve 
 his faith, or bestow it. But so different a state of 
 ihiugs requires a several relation. 
 
 THE THIRD BOOK. 
 
 This third book having to tell of accidents as va- 
 rious and exemplary as the intermission or change of 
 government hath any where brought forth, may de- 
 serve attention more than common, and repay it with 
 like benefit to them who can judiciously read : consider- 
 ing especially that the late civil broils had cast us into 
 a condition not much unlike to what the Britons then 
 were in when the imperial jurisdiction departing hence 
 left them to the sway of their own councils ; which 
 times by comparing seriously with these latter, and 
 that confused anarchy with this interreign, we may be 
 able from two such remarkable turns of state, produc- 
 ing like events among us, to raise a knowledge of our- 
 selves both great and weighty, by judging hence what 
 kind of men the Britons generally are in matters of so 
 high enterprise; how by nature, industry, or custom, 
 fitted to attempt or undergo matters of so main con- 
 sequence : for if it be a high point of wisdom in every 
 private man, much more is it in a nation, to know it- 
 self; rather than puffed up with vulgar flatteries and 
 encomiums, for want of self-knowledge, to enterprise 
 rashly and come off miserably in great undertakings. 
 
 " [Of these who swayed most in the late troubles, 
 few words as to this point may suffice. They had 
 arms, leaders, and successes to their wish; but to make 
 use of so great an advantage was not their skill. 
 
 To other causes therefore, and not to the want of 
 force, to warlike manhood in the Britons, both those, 
 and these lately, we must impute the ill husbanding of 
 those fair opportunities, which might seem to have put 
 liberty so long desired, like a bridle, into their hands. 
 Of which otiier causes equally belonging to ruler, 
 priest, and people, above bath been related : which, as 
 they brought those ancient natives to misery and ruin, 
 by liberty, which, rightly used, might have made them 
 happy ; so brought they these of late, after many la- 
 bours, much bloodshed, and vast expense, to ridiculous 
 frustration : in whom the like defects, the like miscar- 
 riages notoriously appeared, with vices not less hate- 
 ful or inexcusable. 
 
 For a parliament being called, to address many 
 tilings, as it was thought, the people with great cou- 
 rage, and expectation to be eased of what discontented 
 them, chose to their behoof in parliament, such as they 
 thought best affected to the public good, and some in- 
 deed men of wisdom and integrity ; the rest, (to be sure 
 the greater part,) whom wealth or ample possessions, 
 
   'Th* followinif paragraphs, within crotchets, have been omitted in all 
 tbt rormer edituns of our autlmr's History of Britain, except that pub- 
 
 or bold and active ambition (rather than merit) had 
 commended to the same place. 
 
 But when once the superficial zeal and popular 
 fumes that acted their New magistracy were cooled, 
 and spent in them, strait every one betook himself (set- 
 ting the commonwealth behind, his private ends before) 
 to do as his own profit or ambition led him. Then was 
 justice delayed, and soon after denied : spight and 
 favour determined all : hence faction, thence treachery, 
 both at home and in the field: every where wrong, and 
 oppression : foul and horrid deeds committed daily, (»r 
 maintained, in secret, or in open. Some who had been 
 called from shops and warehouses, without other merit, 
 to sit in supreme councils and committees, (as their 
 breeding was,) fell to huckster the commonwealth. 
 Others did thereafter as men could sooth and humour 
 them best; so he who would give most, or, under covert 
 of hypocritical zeal, insinuate basest, enjoyed unwor- 
 thily the rewards of learning and fidelity ; or escaped 
 the punishment of his crimes and misdeeds. Their 
 votes and ordinances, which men looked should have 
 contained the repealing of bad laws, and the immediate 
 constitution of better, resounded with nothing else, but 
 new impositions, taxes, excises ; yearly, monthly, 
 weekly. Not to reckon the offices, gifts, and prefer- 
 ments bestowed and shared among themselves : they 
 in the mean while, who were ever faithfullest to this 
 cause, and freely aided them in person, or with their 
 substance, when they durst not compel either, slighted 
 and bereaved after of their just debts by greedy seques- 
 trations, were tossed up and down after miserable at- 
 tendance from one committee to another with petitions 
 in their hands, yet either missed the obtaining of their 
 suit, or though it were at length granted, (mere shame 
 and reason ofttimes extorting from them at least a shew 
 of justice,) yet by their sequestrators and subcommittees 
 abroad, men for the most part of insatiable hands, and 
 noted disloyalty, those orders were commonly disobey- 
 ed : which for certain dui-st not have been, without 
 secret compliance, if not compact with some superiours 
 able to bear them out. Thus were their friends con- 
 fiscate in their enemies, while they forfeited their debt- 
 ors to the state, as they called it, but indeed to the 
 ravening seizure of innumerable thieves in office : yet 
 were withal no less burdened in all extraordinary 
 assessments and oppressions, than those whom they 
 took to be disaffected : nor were we happier creditoi-s 
 to what we called the state, than to them who were 
 sequestered as the state's enemies. 
 
 For that faith whicli ought to have been kept as 
 sacred and inviolable as any thing holy, " the Public 
 Faith," after infinite sums received, and all the wealth 
 of the church not better employed, but swallowed up 
 into a private Gulf, was not ere long ashamed to con- 
 fess bankrupt. And now besides the sweetness of 
 bribery, and otlier gain, with the love of rule, their 
 own guiltiness and the dreaded name of Just Account, 
 which the people had long called for, discovered plainly 
 that there were of their own number, who secretly con- 
 
 lished in the collection of his. works, 1738, t vol. folio, and the subseqaeni 
 edition in quarto. 
 
Book III. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 503 
 
 trived and fomented those troubles and combustions in 
 the land, which openly they sat to remedy ; and would 
 continually find such work, as should keep them from 
 being- ever brought to that Terrible Stand of laying 
 down their authority for lack of new business, or not 
 drawing" it out to any length of time, though upon the 
 ruin of a whole nation. 
 
 And if the state were in this plight, religion was not 
 in much better; to reform which, a certain number of 
 divines were called, neither chosen by any rule or cus- 
 tom ecclesiastical, nor eminent for either piety or 
 knowledge above others left out; only as each member 
 of parliament in his private fancy thought fit, so elected 
 one by one. Tiie most part of them were such, as had 
 preached and cried down, with great shew of zeal, the 
 avarice and pluralities of bishops and prelates ; that 
 one cure of souls was a full employment for one spirit- 
 ual pastor how able soever, if not a charge rather above 
 human strength. Yet these conscientious men (ere 
 any part of the work done for which they came toge- 
 ther, and that on the public salary) wanted not bold- 
 ness, to the ignominy and scandal of their pastorlike 
 profession, and especially of their boasted reformation, 
 to seize into their hands, or not unwillingly to accept 
 (besides one, sometimes two or more of the best livings) 
 collegiate masterships in the universities, rich lectures 
 in the city, setting sail to all winds that might blow 
 gain into their covetous bosoms : by which means these 
 great rebukers of nonresidence, among so many distant 
 cures, were not ashamed to be seen so quickly plural- 
 ists and nonresidents themselves, to a fearful condem- 
 nation doubtless by their own mouths. And yet the 
 main doctrine for which they took such pay, and in- 
 sisted upon with more vehemence than gospel, was but 
 to tell us in effect, tliat their doctrine was worth no- 
 thing, and the sjtiritual power of their ministry less 
 available than bodily compulsion ; persuading the 
 magistrate to use it, as a stronger means to subdue and 
 bring in conscience, than evangelical persuasicm : dis- 
 trusting the virtue of their own spiritual weapons, 
 which were given them, if they be rightly called, with 
 full warrant of sufficiency to pull down all thoughts 
 and imaginations that exalt themselves against God. 
 But while they taught compulsion without convince- 
 ment, which not long before they complained of as 
 executed unchristianly, against themselves ; these in- 
 tents are clear to have been no better than antichris- 
 tian : setting up a spiritual tyranny by a secular power, 
 to the advancing of their own authority above the 
 magistrate, whom they would have made their execu- 
 tioner, to punish church-delinquencies, whereof civil 
 laws have no cognizance. 
 
 And well did their disciples manifest themselves to 
 be no better principled than their teachers, trusted with 
 committeeshij)s and other gainful oflfices, upon their 
 commendations for zealous, (and as they sticked not to 
 term them,) godly men ; but executing their places 
 like children of the devil, unfaithfully, unjustly, un- 
 mercifully, and where not corruptly, stupidly. So that 
 between them the teachers, and these the disciples, 
 there bath not been a more ignominious and mortal 
 
 wound to faith, to piety, to the work of reformation, 
 nor more cause of blaspheming given to the enemies of 
 God and truth, since the first preaching of reformation. 
 
 The people therefore looking one while on the sta- 
 tists, whom tliey beheld without constancy or firmness, 
 labouring doubtfully beneath the w eight of their own 
 too high undertakings, busiest in petty things, trifling 
 in the main, deluded and quite alienated, expressed 
 divers ways their disaffection ; some despising whom 
 before they honoured, some deserting, some inveighing,, 
 some conspiring against them. Then looking on the 
 churchmen, whom they saw under subtle hypocrisy to 
 have preached their own follies, most of them not the 
 gospel, timeservers, covetous, illiterate persecuters, not 
 lovers of the truth, like in most things whereof they 
 accused their predecessors: looking on all this, the 
 people which had been kept warm a while with the 
 counterfeit zeal of their pulpits, after a false heat, be- 
 came more cold and obdurate than before, some turning 
 to lewdness, some to flat atheism, put beside their old 
 religion, and foully scandalized in what they expected 
 should be new. 
 
 Thus they who of late were extolled as our greatest 
 deliverers, and had the people wholly at their devotion, 
 by so discharging their trust as we see, did not only 
 weaken and unfit themselves to be dispensers of what 
 liberty they pretended, but unfitted also the pcoplo, 
 now grown worse and more disordinate, to receive os 
 to digest any liberty at all. For stories teijch us, that 
 liberty sought out of season, in a corrupt and degene- 
 rate age, brought Rome itself to a farther slavery : for 
 liberty hath a sharp and double edge, fit only to be 
 handled by just and virtuous men ; to bad and disso- 
 lute, it becomes a mischief unwieldy in their own 
 hands: neither is it completely given, but by them 
 who have the happy skill to knoxv what is grievance 
 and unjust to a peojde, and how to remove it wisely; 
 what good laws are wanting, and how to frame them 
 substantially, that good men may enjoy the freedom 
 which they merit, and the bad the curb which they 
 need. But to do this, and to know these exquisite 
 proportions, the heroic wisdom which is required, sur- 
 mounted far the principles of these narrow politicians: 
 what wonder then if they sunk as these unfortunate 
 Britons before them, entangled and oppressed with 
 things too hard and generous above their strain and 
 temper.'' For Britain, to speak a truth not often 
 spoken, as it is aland fruitful enough of men stout and 
 courageous in war, so it is naturally not over-fertile of 
 men able to govern justly and prudently in peace, 
 trusting only in their mother-wit ; who consider not 
 justly, that civility, prudence, love of the public good, 
 more than of money or vain honour, are to this soil in 
 a manner outlandish ; grow not here, but in minds 
 well implanted with solid and elaborate breeding, too 
 impolitic else and rude, if not headstrong and intract- 
 able to the industry and virtue either of executing or 
 understanding true civil government. Valiant indeed, 
 and prosperous to win a field ; but to know the end 
 and reason of winning, unjudicious, and unwise: in 
 good or bad success, alike unteachable. For the sun, 
 
604 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 which we want, ripens wits as well as fruits ; and as 
 wine and oil are imported to us from abroad, so must 
 ripe understanding-, and many civil virtues, be imported 
 into our minds from foreign writings, and examples of 
 best ages ; we shall else miscarry still, and come short 
 in the attempts of any great enterprise. Hence did 
 their victories prove as fruitless, as their losses danger- 
 ous ; and left them still conquering under the same 
 grievances, that men suffer conquered : which was 
 indeed unlikely to go otherwise, unless men more than 
 vulgar bred up, as few of them were, in the knowledge 
 of ancient and illustrious deeds, invincible against 
 many and rain titles, impartial to friendships and rela- 
 tions, had conducted their affairs : but then from the 
 chapman to the retailer, many whose ignorance was 
 more audacious than the rest, were admitted with all 
 their sordid rudiments to bear no mean sway among 
 them, both in church and state. 
 
 From the confluence of all their errours, mischiefs, 
 and misdemeanors, what in the eyes of man could be 
 expected, but what befel those ancient inhabitants, 
 w bora they so much resembled, confusion in the end ? 
 
 But on these things, and this parallel, having enough 
 insisted, I return to the story, which gave us matter of 
 this digression.] 
 
 The Britons thus, as we heard, being left without 
 protection from the empire, and the land in a manner 
 emptied of all her youth, consumed in wars abroad, or 
 not caring to return home, themselves, through long 
 subjection, servile in mind,'' slothful of body, and with 
 the use of arms unacquainted, sustained but ill formany 
 years the violence of those barbarous invaders, who now 
 daily grew upon them. For although at first greedy 
 of change,*^ and to be thought the leading nation to 
 freedom from the empire, they seemed awhile to bestir 
 them with a shew of diligence in their new affairs, 
 some secretly aspiring to rule, others adoring the name 
 of liberty, yet so soon as they felt by proof the weight 
 of what it was to govern well themselves, and what was 
 wanting within them, not stomach or the lore of licence, 
 but the wisdom, the virtue, the labour, to use and 
 maintain true liberty, they soon remitted their heat, 
 and shrunk more wretchedly under the burden of their 
 own liberty, than before under a foreign yoke. Inso- 
 much that the residue of those Romans, which had 
 planted themselves here, despairing of their ill deport- 
 ment at home, and weak resistance in the field by those 
 few who had the courage or the strength to bear arms, 
 nine years after the sacking of Rome removed out of 
 Britain into France,^ hiding for haste great part of 
 their treasure, which was never after found.® And 
 now again the Britons, no longer able to support them- 
 selves against the prevailing enemy, solicit Honorius 
 to their aid,' with mournful letters, embassages, and 
 vows of perpetual subjection to Rome, if the northern 
 foe were but repulsed. « He at their request spares 
 them one legion, which with great slaughter of the 
 Scots and Picts drove them beyond the borders, rescued 
 the Britons, and advised them to build a wall across 
 
 b Gild. B«t«. Malins. 
   Ethclwerd. anoal. Sax. 
 t DiacDout, I. 14. 
 
 c Zozim. I. 6. rt Post Christ. 418. 
 
 f GildHS. Post Chrbt. 4i2. 
 h Bede, I. 1. c. i. 
 
 the island, between sea and sea, from the place where 
 Edinburgh now stands to the frith of Dunbritton, by 
 the city Alcluith.'' But the material being only turf, 
 and by the rude multitude unartificiully built up with- 
 out better direction, availed them little. • For no 
 sooner was the legion departed, but the greedy spoilers 
 returning, land in great numbers from their boats and 
 pinnaces, wasting, slaying, and treading down all be- 
 fore them. Then are messengers again posted to 
 Rome in lamentable sort, beseeching that they would 
 not suffer a whole province to be destroyed, and the 
 Roman name, so honourable yet among them, to be- 
 come the subject of Barbarian scorn and insolence. 
 '' The emperor, at their sad complaint, with what speed 
 was possible, sends to their succour. Who coining 
 suddenly on those ravenous multitudes that minded 
 only spoil, surprise them with a terrible slaughter. 
 They who escaped fled back to those seas, from whence 
 3'early they were wont to arrive, and return laden with 
 booties. But the Romans, who came not now to rule, 
 but charitably to aid, declaring that it stood not longer 
 with the ease of their affairs to make such laborious 
 voyages in pursuit of so base and vagabond robbers, 
 of whom neither glory was to be got, nor gain, exhort- 
 ed them to manage their own warfare ; and to defend 
 like men their country, their wives, their children, and 
 what was to be dearer than life, their liberty, against 
 an enemy not stronger than themselves, if their own 
 sloth and cowardice had not made them so : if they 
 would but only find hands to grasp defensive arms, 
 rather than basely stretch them out to receive bonds. 
 ' They gave them also their help to build a new wall, 
 not of earth as the former, but of stone, (both at the 
 public cost, and by particular contributions,) traversing 
 the isle in a direct line from east to west, between cer- 
 tain cities placed there as frontiers to bear oflT the 
 enemy, where Severus had walled once before. They 
 raised it twelve foot high, eight broad. Along the 
 south shore, because from thence also like hostility 
 was feared, they place towers by the sea-side at certain 
 distances, for safety of the coast. Withal they instruct 
 them in the art of war, leaving pattenis of their arms 
 and weapons behind them ; and with animating words, 
 and many lessons of valour to a faint-hearted audience, 
 bid them finally farewel, without purpose to return. 
 And these two friendly expeditions, the last of any 
 hither by the Romans, were performed, as may be 
 gathered out of Beda and Diaconus, the two last yeare 
 of Honorius. '" Their leader, as some modernly write, 
 was Gallio of Ravenna ; Buchanan, who departs not 
 much from the fables of his predecessor Boethius, names 
 him Maxiinianus, and brings against him to this battle 
 Fergus first king of Scots, after their second supposed 
 coming into Scotland, Durstus, king of Picts, both 
 there slain, and Dioneth an imaginary king of Britain, 
 or duke of Cornwall, who improbably sided with them 
 against his own country, hardly escaping." With no 
 less exactness of particular circumstances he takes upon 
 him to relate all lliose tumultuary inroads of the Scots 
 
 i Gildas. 
 
 I Brde, ibid. Gildu. 
 
 n RiK-h. I. 5. 
 
 k Post Chri«l. 433. 
 
 m Blood. Sabellic. 
 
Book III. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 505 
 
 and Picts into Britain, as if they had but j'esterday 
 happened, their order of battle, manner of fight, num- 
 ber of slain, articles of peace, things whereof Gildas 
 and Beda are utterly silent, authors to whom the Scotch 
 writers have none to cite comparable in antiquity ; no 
 more therefore to be believed for bare assertions, how- 
 ever quaintly drest, than our Geoffrey of Monmouth, 
 when he varies most from authentic story. But either 
 the inbred vanity of some, in that respect unworthily 
 called historians, or the fond zeal of praising their 
 nations above truth, hath so far transported them, that 
 where they find nothing faithfully to relate, they fall 
 confidently to invent what they think may either best 
 set off their history, or magnify their country. 
 
 The Scots and Picts in manners differing somewhat 
 from each other, but still unanimous to rob and spoil, 
 hearing that the Romans intended not to return, from 
 their gorrogbs or leathern frigates" pour out themselves 
 in swarms upon the land more confident than ever; and 
 from the north end of the isle to the very wall's side, 
 then first took possession as inhabitants; while the Bri- 
 tons with idle weapons in their hands stand trembling 
 on the battlements, till the half naked Barbarians with 
 their long and formidable iron hooks pull them down 
 lieadlong. The rest not only quitting the wall, but 
 towns and cities, leave them to the bloody pursuer, 
 who follows killing, wasting, and destroying all in his 
 way. From these confusions arose a famine, and from 
 thence discord and civil commotion among the Britons ; 
 each man living by what be robbed or took violently 
 from his neighbour. When all stores were consumed 
 and spent where men inhabited, they betook them to the 
 woods, and lived by hunting, which was their only 
 sustainment. p To the heaps of these evils from with- 
 out were added new divisions within the church, t For 
 Agricola the son of Severianus a Pelagian bishop had 
 spread his doctrine wide among the Britons, not unin- 
 fected before. The sounder part, neither willing to 
 embrace his opinion to the overthrow of divine grace, 
 nor able to refute him, crave assistance from the churches 
 of France: who send them Germanus bishop of Aux- 
 crre, and Lupus of Troyes. They by continual preach- 
 ing in churches,"" in streets, in fields, and not without 
 miracles, as is written, confirmed some, regained others, 
 and at Yerulam in a public disputation put to silence 
 their chief adversaries. This reformation in the church 
 was believed to be the cause of their success a while 
 after in the field. For the Saxons and Picts with joint 
 force,s which was no new thing before the Saxons at 
 least had any dwelling in this island, during the abode 
 of Germanus here, had made a strong impression from 
 the north. * The Britons marching out against them, 
 and mistrusting their own power, send to Germanus 
 and his colleague, reposing more in the spiritual 
 strength of those two men, than in their own thousands 
 armed. They came, and their presence in the camp 
 was not less than if a whole army had come to second 
 them. It was then the time of Lent, and the people, 
 instructed by the daily sermons of these two pastors, 
 
 o Gildas, Bede. p Bede. q Constantius. 
 
 r Post Christ. 426. Prosp. Aquit. Matth. West, ad ann. M6. 
 
 s Post Christ. 430. t Constant, vit. German, 
 
 came flocking to receive baptism. There was a place 
 in the camp set apart as a church, and tricked up with 
 boughs upon Easter-day. The enemy understanding 
 this, and that the Britons were taken up with religions 
 more than with feats of arms, advances after the pas- 
 chal feast, as to a certain victory. German, who also 
 had intelligence of their approach, undertakes to be 
 captain that day ; and riding out with selected troops 
 to discover what advantages the place might offer, 
 lights on a valley compassed about with hills, by which 
 the enemy was to pass. And placing there his ambush, 
 warns them, that what word they heard him pronounce 
 aloud, the same they should repeat with universal shout. 
 The enemy passes on securely, and German thrice 
 aloud cries Hallelujah ; which answered by the sol- 
 diers with a sudden burst of clamour, is from the hills 
 and valleys redoubled. The Saxons and Picts on a 
 sudden supposing it the noise of a huge host, throw 
 themselves into flight, casting down their arms, and 
 great numbers of them are drowned in the river which 
 they had newly passed. This victory, thus won with- 
 out hands, left to the Britons plenty of spoil, and the 
 person and the preaching of German greater authority 
 and reverence than before. And the exploit might pass 
 for current, if Constantius, the writer of his life in the 
 next age, had resolved us how the British army came 
 to want baptizing; for of any paganism at that time, 
 or long before, in the land we read not, or that Pela- 
 gianism was rebaptized. The place of this victory, as 
 is reported, was in Flintshire," by a town called Guid 
 cruc, and the river Allen, where a field retains the name 
 of Maes German to this day. But so soon as German 
 was returned home," the Scots and Picts, (though now 
 so many of them Christians, that Palladius a deacon 
 was ordained and sent by Celestine the pope to be a 
 bishop over them,) were not so well reclaimed, or not 
 so many of them, as to cease from doing mischief to 
 their neighbours,^ where they found no impeachment 
 to fall in yearly as they were wont. They therefore of 
 the Britons who perhaps were not yet wholly ruined, 
 in the strongest and south-west parts of the isle,* send 
 letters to .^tius, then third time consul of Rome, with 
 this superscription ; " To iEtius thrice consul, the groans 
 of the Britons." And after a few words thus : " The 
 barbarians drive us to the sea, the sea drives us back to 
 the barbarians : thus bandied up and down between 
 two deaths, we perish either by the sword or by the 
 sea." But the empire, at that time overspread with 
 Huns and Vandals, was not in condition to lend them 
 aid. Thus rejected and wearied out with continual 
 flying from place to place, but more aflSicted with fa- 
 mine, which then grew outrageous among them, many 
 for hunger yielded to the enemy ; others either more 
 resolute, or less exposed to wants, keeping within 
 woods and mountainous places, not only defended 
 themselves, but sallying out, at length gave a stop to 
 the insulting foe, with many seasonable defeats; led 
 by some eminent person, as may be thought, who ex- 
 horted them not to trust in their own strength, but in 
 
 u Usser. Primod. p. 33.1. 
 
 X Post Christ. 431. Prosp. Aquit. F.tlielwerd. 
 
 z Malmsbury, 1. i. c. i. p. B. Post Christ. 446. 
 
 y Florent. Gild. Bede. 
 
606 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book III, 
 
 divine assistance. And perhaps no other here is meant 
 than the foresaid deliverance by German, if computa- 
 tion would permit, which Gildas either not much re- 
 garded, or raig-ht mistake; but that he tarried so lung 
 here, the writers of his life assent not." Finding there- 
 fore such opposition, the Scotch or Irish robbers, for so 
 they are indiffiicntlv tcrnied, without delay get them 
 home. The Picts, as before was mentioned, then first 
 began to settle in the utmost parts of the island, using 
 now and then to make inroads upon the Britons. But 
 they in the mean while thus rid of their enemies, begin 
 afresh to till the ground ; which after cessation yields 
 her fruit in such abundance, as had not formerly been 
 known, for many ages. But wantonness and luxury, 
 the wonted companions of plenty, grow up as fast ; 
 and with them, if Gildas deserve belief, all other vices 
 incident to human corruption. That wiiich he notes 
 especially to be the chief perverting of all good in the 
 land, and so continued in his days, was the hatred of 
 truth, and all such as durst appear to vindicate and 
 maintain it. Against them, as against the only dis- 
 turbers, all the malice of the land was bent. Lies 
 and falsities, and such as could best invent them, 
 were only in request. Evil was embraced for good, 
 wickedness honoured and esteemed as virtue. And 
 this quality their valour had, against a foreign 
 enemy to be ever backward and heartless; to civil 
 broils eager and prompt. In matters of government, 
 and the search of truth, weak and shallow ; in false- 
 hood and wicked deeds, pregnant and industrious. 
 Pleasing to God, or not pleasing, with them weighed 
 alike ; and the worse most an end was the weigher. 
 All things were done contrary to public welfare and 
 safety; nor only by secular men, for the clergy also, 
 whose example should have guided others, were as 
 vicious and corrupt. Many of them besotted with con- 
 tinual drunkenness, or swollen with pride and wilful- 
 ness, full of contention, full of envy, indiscrete, incom- 
 petent judges to determine what in the practice of life 
 is good or evil, what lawful or unlawful. Thus fur- 
 nished with judgment, and for manners thus qualified 
 both priest and lay, they agree to choose them several 
 kings of their own ; as near as might be, Hkest them- 
 selves ; and the words of my author import as much. 
 King^ were anointed, saith he, not of God's anointing, 
 but such as were cruellest ; and soon after as inconsider- 
 ately, without examining the truth, put to death, by 
 their anointers, to set up others more fierce and proud. 
 As for the election of their kings, (and that they had 
 not all one monarch, appears both in ages past and by 
 the sequel,) it began, as nigh as may be guessed, either 
 this year** or the following, when they saw the Ro- 
 mans had quite deserted their claim. About which 
 time also Pelagianism again prevailing by means of 
 some few, the British clergy too weak, it seems, at dis- 
 pute, entreat the second time German to their assist- 
 ance ; who coming with Severus a disciple of Lupus, 
 that was his former associate, stands not now to argue, 
 for the people generally continued right ; but inquiring 
 
 i* P.'Ii' rhr... jjo c T. t.P"»* ChrUt. 447. Constant. Bed«. 
 t Fott I hrist. 448. Sifon. Gilda*. 
 
 those authors of new disturbance, adjudges them to 
 banishment. They therefore by consent of a(i were 
 delivered to German ; who carrying them over with 
 him,c disposed of them in such place where neither 
 they could infect others, and were themselves under 
 cure of better instruction. But Germanus the same 
 year died in Italy ; and the Britons not long after 
 found themselves again in much perplexity, with no 
 slight rumour that their old troublers the Scots and 
 Picts had prepared a strong invasion, purposing to 
 kill all, and dwell themselves in the land from end to 
 end. But ere their coming in, as if the instruments of 
 divine justice had been at strife, which of them first 
 should destroy a wicked nation, the pestilence, fore- 
 stalling the sword, left scarce alive whom to bury the 
 dead ; and for that time, as one extremity keeps off an- 
 other, preserved the land from a worse incumbrance of 
 those barbarous dispossessors, whom the contagion 
 gave not leave now to enter far. '^ And yet the Bri- 
 tons, nothing bettered by these heavy judgments, the 
 one threatened, the other felt, instead of acknowledg- 
 ing the hand of Heaven, run to the palace of their king 
 Vortigern with complaints and cries of what they sud- 
 denly feared from the Pictish invasion. Vortigern, 
 who at that time was chief rather than sole king, un- 
 less the rest had perhaps left their dominions to the 
 common enemy, is said by him of Monmouth, to have 
 procured the death first of Constantine, then of Con- 
 stance his son, who of a monk was made king, and by 
 that means to have usurped the crown. But they who 
 can remember how Constantine, with his son Constance 
 the monk, the one made emperor, the other Caesar, pe- 
 rished in France, may discern the simple fraud of this 
 fable. But Vortigern however coming to reign, is de- 
 ciphered by truer stories a proud unfortunate tyrant, and 
 yet of the people much beloved, because his vices sorted 
 so well with theirs. For neither was he skilled in war, 
 nor wise in counsel, but covetous, lustful, luxunous, 
 and prone to all vice ; wasting the public treasure in 
 gluttony and riot, careless of the common danger, and 
 through a haughty ignorance unapprehensive of his 
 own. Nevertheless importuned and awakened at 
 length by unusual clamours of the people, he summons 
 a general council, to provide some better means than 
 heretofore had been used against these continual an- 
 noyances from the north. Wherein by advice of all it 
 was determined, that the Saxons be invited into Bri- 
 tain against the Scots and Picts ; whose breaking in 
 they either shortly expected, or already found they had 
 not strength enough to oppose. The Saxons were a 
 barbarous and heathen nation, famous for nothing else 
 but robberies and cruelties done to all their neighbours, 
 both by sea and land ; in particular to this island, wit- 
 ness that military force, which the Roman emperors 
 maintained here purposely against them, under a spe- 
 cial commander, whose title, as is found on good re- 
 cord,* was "Count of the Sa.xon shore in Britain," and 
 the many mischiefs done by their landing here, both 
 aloue and with the Picts, as above hath been related, 
 
 d Malm». I. I. 
 e Notitia: imperii. 
 
Book III. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 507 
 
 witness as much.^ They were a people thought by 
 good writers to be descended of the Sacse, a kind of 
 Scythians in the north of Asia, thence called Sacasons, 
 or sons of Sacee, who with a flood of other northern na- 
 tions came into Europe, toward the declining of the 
 Roman empire ; and using piracy from Denmark all 
 along these seas, possessed at length by intrusion all 
 that coast of Germany,? and the Netherlands, which 
 took thence the name of Old Saxony, lying between 
 the Rhine and Elve, and from thence north as far as 
 Eidora, the river bounding Holsatia, though not so 
 firmly or so largely, but that their multitude wandered 
 yet uncertain of habitation. Such guests as these the 
 Britons resolve now to send for, and entreat into their 
 houses and possessions, at whose very name heretofore 
 they trembled afar off. So much do men through im- 
 patience count ever that the heaviest, which they bear 
 at present, and to remove the evil which they suffer, 
 care not to pull on a greater ; as if variety and change 
 in evil also were acceptable. Or whether it be that 
 men in the despair of better, imagine fondly a kind of 
 refuge from one misery to another. 
 
 *^ The Britons therefore with Vortigern, who was 
 then accounted king over them all, resolve in full coun- 
 cil to send embassadors of their choicest men with 
 great gifts, and saith a Saxon writer, in these words 
 desiring their aid ; " Worthy Saxons, hearing the fame 
 of your prowess, the distressed Britons wearied out, 
 and overpressed by a continual invading enemy, have 
 sent us to beseech your aid. They have a land fertile 
 and spacious, which to your commands they bid us 
 surrender. Heretofore we have lived with freedom, 
 under the obedience and protection of the Roman em- 
 pire. Next to them we know none worthier than 
 3'ourselves : and therefore become suppliants to your 
 valour. Leave us not below our present enemies, and 
 to aught by you imposed, willingly we shall submit." 
 Yet Ethelwerd writes not that they promised subjec- 
 tion, but only amity and league. They therefore who 
 had chief rule among them,' hearing themselves en- 
 treated by the Britons, to that which gladly they would 
 have wished to obtain of them by entreating, to the 
 British embassy return this answer:"* " Be assured 
 henceforth of the Saxons, as of faithful friends to the 
 Britons, no less ready to stand by them in their need, 
 than in their best of fortune." The embassadors return 
 joyful, and with news as welcome to their country, 
 whose sinister fate bad now blinded them for destruc- 
 tion. 1 The Saxons, consulting first their gods, (for 
 ihey had answer, that the land whereto they went, they 
 should hold three hundred years, half that time conquer- 
 ing, and half quietly possessing,) furnish out three 
 long gallics,™ or kyules, with a chosen company of 
 warlike youth, under the conduct of two brothers, 
 Hengist and Horsa, descended in the fourth degree 
 from Woden ; of whom, deified for the fame of his 
 acts, most kings of those nations derive their pedigree. 
 These, and either mixed with these, or soon after by 
 themselves, two other tribes, or neighbouring people, 
 
 f Florent Wigoin. ad an. S70. g Ethel wen! . 
 
 Ii Kilielwerrt. Malinsb. Wiucbiad. pest. S«». 1. 1. i Malms, 
 
 k Witichind. 1 Giltlas. m Bede. 
 
 Jutes and Angles, the one from Jutland, the other from 
 Anglen by the city of Sleswick, both provinces of Den- 
 mark, arrive in the first year of Martian the Greek em- 
 peror, from the birth of Christ four hundred and fifty," 
 received with much good-will of the people fii-st, then 
 of the king, who after some assurances given and taken, 
 bestows on them the isle of Tauet, where they first 
 landed, hoping they might be made hereby more eager 
 against the Picts, when they fought as for their own 
 country, and more loyal to the Britons, from whom they 
 had received a place to dwell in, which before they 
 wanted. The British Nennius writes, that these bre- 
 thren were driven into exile out of Germany, and to 
 Vortigern who reigned in much fear, one while of the 
 Picts, then of the Romans and Ambrosius, came oppor- 
 tunely into the haven. ° For it was the custom in Old 
 Saxony, when their numerous offspring overtlovved the 
 narrowness of their bounds, to send them out by lot 
 into new dwellings wherever they found room, either 
 vacant or to be forced. P But whether sought, or 
 unsought, they dwelt not here long without employ- 
 ment. For the Scots and Picts were now come down, 
 some say, as far as Stamford, in Lincolnshire, whom 
 perhaps not imagining to meet new opposition, the 
 Saxons, though not till after a sharp encounter, put to 
 flight ;q and that more than once ; slaying in fight,' 
 as some Scotch writers affirm, their king Eugenius the 
 son of Fergus. » Hengist perceiving the island to be 
 rich and fruitful, but her princes and other inhabitants 
 given to vicious ease, sends word home, inviting others 
 to a share of his good success. Who retuniing with 
 seventeen ships, were grown up now to a sufficient 
 army, and entertained without suspicion on these terms, 
 that they " should bear the brunt of war against the 
 Picts, receiving stipend, and some place to inhabit." 
 With these was brought over the daughter of Hengist, 
 a virgin wonderous fair, as is reported. Row en the 
 British call her : she by commandment of her father, 
 who had invited the king to a banquet, coming in 
 presence with a bowl of wine to welcome him, and to 
 attend on his cup till the feast ended, won so much 
 upon his fancy, though already wived, as to demand 
 her in marriage upon any conditions. Hengist at first, 
 though it fell out perhaps according to his drift, held 
 off, excusing his meanness ; then obscurely intimating 
 a desire and almost a necessity, by reason of bis aug- 
 mented numbers, to have his narrow bounds of Tanet 
 enlarged to the circuit of Kent, had it straight by do- 
 nation ; though Guorangonus, till then, was king of 
 that place ; and so, as it were overcome by the great 
 munificence of Vortigern, gave his daughter. And 
 still encroaching on the king's favour, got further leave 
 to call over Octa and Ebissa, his own and his brother's 
 son ; pretending that they, if the north were given 
 them, would sit there as a continual defence against 
 the Scots, while himself guarded the east. * They 
 therefore sailing with forty ships, even to the Or- 
 cades, and every way curbing the Scots and Picts, 
 possessed that part of the isle which is now Nor- 
 
 n PostClirist. 450. Nennius. Malms. 
 
 p Henry Huntiugd. q F.thelwerd. 
 
 s Nenu. tGildas, Bed. Nenn. 
 
 o Malms, 
 r Bed. Nen. 
 
508 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 thuinberland. Notwithstanding' this, they complain 
 that their monthly pay was grown much into arrear ; 
 which when the Britons found means to satisfy, tljoiig'h 
 alleginjf withal, that they to whom promise was made 
 of wag'cs were nothing- so many in number : quieted 
 with this awhile, but still seeking- occasion to fall off, 
 they find fault next, that their pay is too small for the 
 dang^er they undergo, threatening open war, unless it 
 be augmented. Guortimer, the king's son, perceiving 
 his father and the kingdom thus betrayed, from that 
 time bends his utmost endeavour to drive tliera out. 
 They on the other side making^ league with the Picts 
 and Scots, and issuing out of Kent, wasted without 
 resistance almost the whole land even to the western 
 sea, with such a horrid devastation, that towns and 
 colonies overturned, priests and people slain, temples 
 and palaces, what with fire and sword, lay altogether 
 heaped in one mixed ruin. Of all which multitude 
 80 g-reat was the sinfulness that brought this upon them, 
 Gildas adds, that few or none were likely to be other 
 than lewd and wicked persons. The residue of these, 
 part overtaken in the mountains were slain ; others 
 subdued with hunger preferred slavery before instant 
 death ; some getting- to rocks, hills, and woods, inac- 
 cessible, preferred the fear and danger of any death, 
 before the shame of a secure slavery;" many fled over 
 sea into other countries ; some into Holland, where yet 
 remain the ruins of Brittenburgh, an old castle on the 
 sea, to be seen at low water not far from Leyden, either 
 built, as writers of their own affirm, or seized on by 
 those Britons, in their escape from Hengist ;^ others 
 into Armorica, peopled, as some think, with Britons 
 long before, either by gift of Constantino the Great, or 
 else of Maximus, to those British forces which had 
 served them in foreign wars ;y to whom those also that 
 miscarried not with the latter Constantine at Aries, 
 and lastly, these exiles driven out by Saxons, fled for 
 refuge. But the ancient chronicles of those provinces 
 attest their coming thither to be then first when they 
 fled the Saxons ; and indeed the name of Britain in 
 France is not read till after that time. Yet how a sort 
 of fugitives, who had quitted without stroke their own 
 country, should so soon win another, appears not, un- 
 less joined to some party of their own settled there be- 
 fore. 'Vortigern, nothing bettered by these calamities, 
 grew at last so obdurate as to commit incest with his 
 daughter, tempted or tempting him out of an ambition 
 to the crown. For which being censured and con- 
 demned in a great synod of clerks and laics, partly 
 for fear of the Saxons, according to the counsel 
 of his peers, he retired into Wales, and built him 
 there a strong castle in Radnorshire," by the advice 
 of Ambrosius a young prophet, whom others call Mer- 
 lin. Nevertheless Faustus, who was the son thus in- 
 cestuously begotten, under the instructions of German, 
 or some of his disciples, for German was dead before, 
 proved a religious man, and lived in devotion by the 
 river Remnis, in Glamorganshire. '' But the Saxons, 
 though finding it so easy to subdue the isle, with most 
 
 a Priinoril. p. 418. x Malms, t. 1. c. 1. y Ilontinc. I. 1. 
 
 a Ntrno. Malmsb. a. Nenn. 
 
 bCilUa*. 
 
 c Neno. 
 
 of their forces, uncertain for what cause, returned home : 
 whenas the easiness of their conquest might seem rather 
 likely to have called in more; which makes more pro- 
 bable that which the British write of Guortimer. =For 
 he coming to reign, instead of his father deposed for 
 incest, is said to have thrice driven and besieged the 
 Saxons in the isle of Tanet; and when they issued out 
 with powerful supplies sent from Saxony, to have 
 fought with them four other battles, whereof three are 
 named ; the first on the river Darwenl, the second at 
 Episford, wherein Horsa the brother of Hengist fell, 
 and on the British part Catigern the other son of Vor- 
 tigern. The third in a field by Stonar, then called 
 Lapis Tituli, in Tanet, where he beat liiem into their 
 ships that bore them home, glad to have so escaped, 
 and not venturing to land again for five y-ears after. In 
 the space whereof Guortimer dying, commanded they 
 should bury him in the port of Stonar ; persuaded that 
 his bones lying there would be terrour enough, to keep 
 the Saxons from ever landing in that place : they, saith 
 Nennius, neglecting his command, buried him in Lin- 
 coln. But concerning these times, ancientest annals 
 of the Saxons relate in this manner. <* In the year four 
 hundred and fifty-five, Hengist and Horsa fought 
 against Vortigern, in a place called Eglesthrip, now 
 Ailsford in Kent, where Horsa lost his life, of whom 
 Horsted, the place of his burial, took name. 
 
 After this first battle and the death of his brother, 
 Hengist with his son Esca took on him kingly title,* 
 and peopled Kent with Jutes ; who also then, or not 
 long after, possessed the Isle of Wight, and part of 
 Hampshire lying opposite. *^Two years after in a fight 
 at Creganford, or Craford, Hengist and his son slew of 
 the Britons four chief commanders, and as many thou- 
 sand men ; the rest in great disorder flying to London, 
 with the total loss of Kent. « And eight years passing 
 between, he made new war on the Britons ; of whom, 
 in a battle at Wippeds-fleot, twelve princes were slain, 
 and Wipped the Saxon earl, who left his name to that 
 place, though not sufficient to direct us where it now 
 stands. '' His last encounter was at a place not men- 
 tioned, where he gave them such an overthrow, that 
 flying in great fear they left the spoil of all to their 
 enemies. And these perhaps are the four battles, ac- 
 cording to Nennius, fought by Guortimer, though by 
 these writers far differently related ; and happening 
 besides many other bickerings, in the space of twenty 
 years, as Malmsbury reckons. Nevertheless it plainly 
 appears that the Saxons, by whomsoever, were put to 
 hard shifts, being all this while fought withal in Kent, 
 their own allotted dwelling, and sometimes on the very 
 edge of the sea, which the word Wippeds-fleot seems 
 to intimate. ' But Guortimer now dead, and none of 
 courage left to defend the land, Vortigern either by the 
 power of his faction, or by consent of all, reassumes 
 the government: and Hengist thus rid of his grand 
 opposer, hearing gladly the restorement of his old fa- 
 vourer, returns again with great forces ; but to Vorti- 
 gern, whom he well knew how to handle without 
 
 d Post Christ. 4». Bfde. Etbclwerd. Florent. Anna). Sax. 
 a The kingdom of Kent. I' Puat Clirist. 457. 
 
 g Post Christ. 463. b Pa«t Christ 473. i N«UQius 
 
Book III. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 509 
 
 vvamng, as to his son-iii-law, now that the only author 
 of dissension between them was removed by death, 
 offers nothing- but all terms of new league and amity. 
 The king, both for his wife's sake and his own sottish - 
 ness, consulting also with his peers not unlike himself, 
 readily yields ; and the place of parley is agreed on ; 
 to which either side was to repair without weapons. 
 Hengist, whose meaning was not peace, but treachery, 
 appointed his men to be secretly armed, and acquainted 
 them to what intent. ^Xhe watchword was, Nemet 
 eour saxes, that is. Draw your daggers ; which they 
 observing, when the Britons were thoroughly heated 
 with wine (for the treaty it seems was not without 
 cups) and provoked, as was plotted, by some affront, 
 dispatched with those poniards every one his ne.\t man, 
 to the number of three hundred, the chief of those that 
 could do aught against him, either in counsel or in 
 field. Vortigern they only bound and kept in custody, 
 until he granted them for his ransom three provinces, 
 which were called afterward Essex, Sussex, and Mid- 
 dlesex. Who thus dismissed, retiring again to his 
 solitary abode in the country of Guorthigimiaun. so 
 called by his name, from thence to the castle of his 
 own building in North Wales, by the river Tiebi ; 
 and living tliere obscurely among his wives, was at 
 length burnt in his tower by fire from Heaven, at the 
 prayer,' as some say, of German, but that coheres not; 
 as others, by Ambrosius Aurelian ; of whom, as we 
 have heard at first, he stood in great fear, and partly 
 for that cause invited in the Saxons. Who, whether 
 by constraint or of their own accord, after much mis- 
 chief done, most of them returning back into their 
 own country, left a fair opportunity to the Britons of 
 avenging themselves easier on those who staid be- 
 hind. Repenting therefore, and with earnest suppli- 
 cation imploring divine help to prevent their final 
 rooting out, they gather from all parts, and under the 
 leading of Ambrosius Aurelianus, a virtuous and 
 modest man, the last here of the Roman stock, ad- 
 vancing now onward against the late victors, defeat 
 them in a memorable battle. Common opinion, but 
 grounded chiefly on the British fables, makes this Am- 
 brosius to be a younger son of that Constantine, whose 
 eldest, as we heard, was Constance the monk; who 
 both lost their lives abroad usurping the empire. But 
 the express words both of Gildas and Bede assure us, 
 that the parents of this Ambrosius having here born 
 regal dignity, were slain in these Pictish wars and 
 commotions in the island. And if the fear of Ambrose 
 induced Vortigern to call in the Saxons, it seems Vor- 
 tigern usurped his right. I perceive not that Nennius 
 makes any difference between him and Merlin ; for 
 that child without father, that prophesied to Vortigern, 
 he names not Merlin, but Ambrose ; makes him the 
 son of a Roman consul, but concealed by his mother, 
 as fearing that the king therefore sought his life : 
 yet the youth no sooner had confessed bis parentage, 
 but Vortigern either in reward of his predictions, or 
 
 k MHlins. 1 Min. ex legend St. Ger. Galfrid. Monmouth, 
 
 til Gililas. Bed. n Nenn. 
 
 o Post tlliiist. 477. Sax. an. Ethelw. Florent. 
 V Post Christ. 485. Florent. q IIun(in2iI. 
 
 as his right, bestowed upon him all the west of Bri- 
 tain ; himself retiring to a solitary life. Whosever son 
 he was, he was tiie first,"" according to surest authors, 
 that led against the Saxons, and overthrew them ; but 
 whether before this time or after, none have written. 
 This is certain, that in a time when most of the Saxon 
 forces were departed home, the Britons gathered 
 strength ; and either against those who were left re- 
 maining, or against their whole powers the second time 
 returning, obtained this victory. Thus Ambrose as 
 chief monarch of the isle succeeded Vortigern ; to whose 
 third son Pascentius he permitted the rule of two re- 
 gions in Wales, Buelth and Guorthigimiaun. In his 
 days, saith Nennius," the Saxons prevailed not much : 
 against whom Arthur, as being then chief general for 
 the British kings, made great war, but more renowned 
 in songs and romances, than in true stories. And the 
 sequel itself declares as much. For in the year four 
 hundred and seventy seven," Ella, the Saxon, with his 
 three sons, Cymen, Pleting, and Cissa, at a place in 
 Sussex called Cymenshore, arrive in three ships, kill 
 many of the Britons, chasing them that remained into 
 the wood Andreds Leage. p Another battle was fought 
 at Mercreds-Burnamsted, wherein Ella had by far the 
 victory; but i Huntingdon makes it so doubtful, that 
 the Saxons were constrained to send home for supplies. 
 ^ Four years after died Hengist, the first Saxon king of 
 Kent; noted to have attained that dignity by craft, as 
 much as valour, and giving scope to his own cruel na- 
 ture, rather than proceeding by mildness or civility. 
 His son Oeric, surnamed Oisc, of whom the Kentish 
 kings were called Oiscings, succeeded him, and sate 
 content with his fatiier's winnings, more desirous to 
 settle and defend, than to enlarge his bounds : he reign- 
 ed twenty-four years. * By this time Ella and his son 
 Cissa besieging Andredchester, supposed now to be 
 Newenden in Kent, take it by force, and all within it 
 put to the sword. 
 
 Thus Ella, three years after the death of Hengist^ 
 began his kingdom of the South-Saxons;' peopling it 
 with new inhabitants, from the country which was then 
 Old Sa.vony, at this day Holstcin in Denmark, and 
 l)ad besides at his command all those provinces, wliicb 
 the Saxons bad won on this side Humber." Animated 
 with these good successes, as if Britain were become 
 now the field of fortune, Kerdic another Saxon prince, 
 the tenth by lineage from Woden," an old and prac- 
 tised soldier, who in many prosperous conflicts against 
 the enemy in those parts had nursed up a spirit too big 
 to live at home with equals, coming to a certain place, 
 which from thence took the name of Kerdic-shore,y with 
 five ships, and Kenric his son, the very same day over- 
 threw the Britons that opposed him ; and so effectually, 
 that smaller skirmishes after that day were sufficient to 
 drive them still further off, leaving him a large territory. 
 ^ After him Porta another Saxon, with his two sons 
 Bida and Megla, in two ships arrive at Portsmouth 
 thence called, and at their landing slew a young Bri- 
 
 1 Post Christ. 489. Malms. Bed. 1. 2. c. 5. 
 
 s Post Christ. A<n. Camden. t The kingdom of South-Saxons, 
 
 n Be<l. I. 1. c. 13. and 1. Q. c.5. x Sax. ami. omn. 
 
 i' Post Christ. 495. z Post Christ. 501. Sax. an. oiiin. Iluntingdon. 
 
610 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 tish nobleniau, with many others who unadvisedly set 
 upon theni.» The Britons to recover what they had 
 lost, draw together all their forces, led by Natanleud, 
 or Nazaleod, a certain king in Britain, and the greatest, 
 saith one ; but with him five thousand of his men Ker- 
 dic puts to rout and slays. From whence the place in 
 Hantshire, as far as Kerdicsford, now Chardford, was 
 called of old Nazaleod. Who this king should be, hath 
 bred much question ; some think it to be the British 
 name of Ambrose ; others to be the right name of his 
 brother, who for the terrour of his eagerness in fight, 
 became more known by the surname of Uther, which 
 in the Welch tongue signifies Dreadful. And if ever 
 such a king in Britain there was as Uther Pendragon, 
 for so also the Monmouth book surnames bim, this in 
 all likelihood must be he. Kerdic by so great a blow 
 given to the Britons had made large room about him ; 
 not only for the men he brought with him, but for such 
 also of bis friends, as he desired to make great ; for 
 which cause, and withal the more to strengthen him- 
 self, his two nephews Stuff and Withgar, in three 
 vessels bring him new levies to Kerdic-shore.'' Who, 
 that they might not come sluggishly to possess what 
 others had won for them, either by their own seeking, 
 or by appointment, are set in a place where they could 
 not but at their first coming give proof of themselves 
 upon the enemy; and so well they did it, that the Bri- 
 tons after a hard encounter left them masters of tliC 
 field."^ About the same time, Ella the first South-Saxon 
 king died ; whom Cissa, bis youngest son, succeeded ; 
 the other two failing before him. 
 
 Nor can it be much more or less than about this time, 
 for it was before the West-Saxon kingdom, that Uffa, 
 the eighth from Woden, made himself king of the East- 
 Angles ;<* who by their name testify the country above 
 mentioned ; from whence they came in such multitudes, 
 that their native soil is said to have remained in the 
 days of Beda uninhabited.* Huntingdon defers the 
 time of their coming in to the ninth year of Kerdic's 
 reign : for, saith he,*^ at first many of them strove for 
 principality, seizing every one his province, and for 
 some while so continued, making petty wars among 
 themselves ; e till in the end Uffa, of whom those kings 
 were called Uffings, overtopped them all in the year 
 five hundred and seventy one; ''then Titilus his son, 
 the father of Redwald, who became potent. 
 
 And not much after the East-Angles, began also the 
 East-Saxons to erect a kingdom under Sleda, the tenth 
 from Woden. But Huntingdon, as before, will have 
 it later by eleven years, and Erchenwin to be the first 
 king. 
 
 Kerdic the same in power, though not so fond of title, 
 forbore the name twenty-four years after his arrival ; 
 but then founded so firmly the kingdom of West- 
 Saxons,' that it subjected all the rest at length, and 
 became the sole monarchy of England. The same 
 year he had a victory against the Britons at Kerdic's 
 ford, by the riyer Aven : and after eight years,'' another 
 great fight at Kerdic's leage, but which won the day 
 
   Po*' Christ. 508. Ann. omn. Huntingd. Camden. U»s. Primord. 
 
 b Post Christ. 514. An. omn. c iluntingilon. 
 
 d rhe kiticdom of EMt-Angles. c Malmsb. 1. 1. c. 3. Bed. 1. 1. c. 15. 
 
 is not by any set down. Hitherto have been collected 
 what there is of certainty with circumstance of time 
 and place to be found registered, and no more than 
 barely registered, in annals of best note ; without de- 
 scribing after Huntingdon the manner of those battles 
 and encounters, which they who compare, and can 
 judge of books, may be confident he never found in 
 any current author, whom he had to follow. But this 
 disease bath been incident to many more historians: 
 and the age whereof we now write hath iiad the ill hap, 
 more than any since the first fabulous times, to be sur- 
 charged with all the idle fancies of posterity. Yet that 
 we may not rely altogether on Saxon relaters, Gildas, 
 in antiquity far before these, and every way more cre- 
 dible, speaks of these wars in such a manner, though 
 nothing conceited of the British valour, as declares the 
 Saxons in his time and before to have been foiled not 
 seldomer than the Britons. For besides that first vic- 
 tory of Ambrose, and the interchangeable success long 
 after, he tells that the last overthrow, which they re- 
 ceived at Badon-hill, was not the least ; which they in 
 their oldest annals mention not at all. And because 
 the time of this battle, by any who could do more than 
 guess, is not set down, or any foundation given from 
 whence to draw a solid compute, it cannot be much 
 wide to insert it in this place. For such authors as we 
 have to follow give the conduct and praise of this ex- 
 ploit to Arthur; and that this was the last of twelve 
 great battles, which he fought victoriously against the 
 Saxons. The several places written by Nennius in 
 their Welch names' were many hundred years ago un- 
 known, and so here omitted. But who Arthur was, 
 and whether ever any such reigned in Britain, hath 
 been doubted heretofore, and may again with good 
 reason. For the monk of Malmsbury, and others, 
 whose credit hath swayed most with the leameder sort, 
 we may well perceive to have known no more of this 
 Arthur five hundred years past, nor of his doings, than 
 we, now living; and what they had to say, transcribed 
 out of Nennius, a very trivial writer yet extant, which 
 hath already been related ; or out of a British book, 
 the same which he of Monmouth set forth, utterly un- 
 known to the world, till more than six hundred years 
 after the days of Arthur, of whom (as Sigebert in his 
 chronicle confesses) all other histories were silent, both 
 foreign and domestic, except only that fabulous book. 
 Others of later time have sought to assert him by old 
 legends and cathedral regests. But he who can accept 
 of legends for good story, may quickly swell a volume 
 with trash, and had need be furnished with two only 
 necessaries, leisure and belief; whether it be the writer, 
 or he that shall read. As to Arthur, no less is in doubt 
 who was his father ; for if it be true, as Nennius or his 
 notist avers, that Arthur was called Mab-Uther, that is 
 to say, a cruel son, for the fierceness that men saw in 
 him of a child, and the intent of his name Arturus im- 
 ports as much, it might well be that some in after-ages, 
 who sought to turn him into a fable, wrested the word 
 Uther into a proper name, and so feigned him the son 
 
 f Huntingd. 1. 2. p. 313, 315. 
 h Malms. I. 1. c. 6. 
 k Sax. «nD. oina. 5?7. 
 
 g BfH. I. 2. c. 15. 
 i Post Christ. 519. 
 1 Menn. 
 
Book III. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 511 
 
 of Uther ; since we read not in any certain story, that 
 ever such person lived till Geoffrey of Monmouth set 
 him off with the surname of Pcndragon. And as we 
 doubted of his parentage, so may we also of his puis- 
 sance; for whether that victory at Badon-hill were his 
 or no, is uncertain ; Gildas not naming- him, as he did 
 Ambrose in the former. Next, if it be true as Caradoc 
 relates,"' that Melvas, king of that country which is 
 now Somerset, kept from him Gueniver his wife a whole 
 year in the town of Glaston, and restored her at the 
 entreaty of Gildas, rather than for any enforcement that 
 Arthur with all his chivalry could make against a small 
 town defended only by a moory situation ; had either 
 his knowledge in war, or the force he had to make, 
 been answerable to the fame they bear, that petty king 
 had neither dared such affront, nor he been so long, 
 and at last without effect, in revenging it. Considering 
 lastly how the Saxons gained upon him every where 
 all the time of his supposed reign, which began, as 
 some write," in the tenth year of Kerdic, who wrung 
 from him by long war the counties of Somerset and 
 Hampshire; there will remain neither place nor cir- 
 cumstance in story, which may administer any likeli- 
 hood of those great acts, that arc ascribed to him. ° This 
 only is alleged by Nennius in Arthur's behalf, that the 
 Saxons, though vanquished never so oft, grew still 
 more numerous upon him by continual supplies out of 
 Germany. And the truth is, that valour may be over- 
 toiled, and overcome at last with endless overcoming. 
 But as for this battle of mount Badon, where the Sax- 
 ons were hemmed in, or besieged, whether by Arthur 
 won, or whensoever, it seems indeed to have given a 
 most undoubted and important blow to the Saxons, 
 and to have stopped their proceedings for a good while 
 after. Gildas himself witnessing, that the Britons, 
 having thus compelled them to sit down with peace, fell 
 thereupon to civil discord among themselves. Which 
 words may seem to let in some light toward the search- 
 ing out when this battle was fought. And we shall find 
 no time since the first Saxon war, from whence a longer 
 peace ensued, than from the fight at Kerdic's Lcage, in 
 the year five hundred and twenty seven, which all the 
 chronicles mention, without victory to Kerdic ; and 
 give us argument from the custom they have of mag- 
 nifying their own deeds upon all occasions, to presume 
 here his ill speeding. And if we look still onward, 
 even to the forty-fourth year after, wherein Gildas 
 wrote, if his obscure utterance be understood, we shall 
 meet with every little war between the Britons and 
 Saxons. PThis only remains difficult, that the victory 
 first won by Ambrose was not so long before this at 
 Badon siege, but that the same men living might be 
 eyewitnesses of both ; and by this rate hardly can the 
 latter be thought won by Arthur, unless we reckon him 
 a grown youth at least in the days of Ambrose, and 
 much more than a youth, if Malmsbury be heard, who 
 affirms all the exploits of Ambrose to have been done 
 chiefly by Arthur as his general, which will add much 
 unbelief to the common assertion of his reigning after 
 
 ni Caradoc. Llancarvon. vit. Gilil. 
 
 n Malms, antiquit. Glaston. Post Christ. 509. 
 
 o Primord. p. 468. Pol>chronic. I. 5. c. 6. 
 
 Ambrose and Uther, especially the fight of Badon 
 being the last of his twelve battles. But to prove by 
 that which follows, that the fight at Kerdic's Leage, 
 though it differ in name from that of Badon, may be 
 thought the same by all effects ; Kerdic three years 
 after,i not proceeding onward, as his manner was, on 
 the continent, turns back his forces on the Isle of 
 Wight ; which, with the slaying of a few only in 
 Withgarburgb, he soon masters; and not long sur- 
 viving, left it to his nephews by the mother's side. Stuff 
 and Withgar :■■ the rest of what he had subdued, Ken- 
 ric his son held ; and reigned twenty-six years, in 
 whose tenth year* Withgar was buried in the town of 
 that island which bore his name. Notwithstanding 
 all these unlikelihoods of Arthur's reign and great 
 achievements, in a narration crept in I know not how 
 among the laws of Edward the Confessor, Arthur the 
 famous king of Britons, is said not only to have ex- 
 pelled hence the Saracens, who were not then known 
 in Europe, but to have conquered Friesland, and all 
 the north-east isles as far as Russia, to have made 
 I^apland the eastern bound of his empire, and Norway 
 the chamber of Britain. When should this be done ? 
 From the Saxons, till after twelve battles, he had no 
 rest at home ; after those, the Britons, contented with 
 the quiet they had from their Saxon enemies, were so 
 far from seeking conquests abroad, that by report of 
 Gildas above cited, they fell to civil wars at home. 
 Surely Arthur much better had made war in old Sax- 
 ony, to repress their flowing hitlier, than to have won 
 kingdoms as far as Russin, scarce able here to defend 
 his own. Buchanan our neighbour historian repre- 
 hends him of Monmouth, and others, for fabling in the 
 deeds of Arthur; yet what he writes thereof himself, 
 as of better credit, shows not whence he had but from 
 those fables; which he seems content to believe in 
 part, on condition that the Scots and Picts may be 
 thought to have assisted Arthur in all his wars and 
 achievements ; whereof appears as little ground by 
 credible story, as of that which he most counts fabu- 
 lous. But not further to contest about such uncer- 
 tainties. 
 
 In the year five hundred and forty-seven,' Ida the 
 Saxon, sprung also from Woden in the tenth degree, 
 began the kingdom of Bernicia in Northumberland ; 
 built the town Bebenburgh, which was after walled ; 
 and had twelve sons, half by wives and half by concu- 
 bines. Hengist, by leave of Vortigern, we may re- 
 member, had sent Octave and Ebissa, to seek them 
 scats in the north, and there, by warring on the Picts, 
 to secure the southern parts. Which they so prudently 
 effected, that what by force and fair proceeding, they 
 well quieted those countries ; and though so far distant 
 from Kent, nor without power in their hands, yet kept 
 themselves nigh a hundred and eighty years within 
 moderation ; and, as inferiour govemours, they and 
 their offspring gave obedience to the kings of Kent, as 
 to the elder family. Till at length following the ex- 
 ample of that age, when no less than kingdoms were 
 
 p Hildas. q PostClirist. 530. ^i>x. an. omn. 
 
 r Post Clirist. 5.'»4. s Post Clirist. 514. 
 
 t Post Christ. 547. Annal. omn. Bed. Epit. Malms. 
 
512 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 the prize of every fortunate commander, they thought 
 it but reason, as well as others of their nation, to as- 
 sume royalty. Of whom Ida was the first," a man in 
 the prime of his years, and of parentasje as we heard ; 
 but how he came to wear the crown, aspiring' or by 
 free choice, is not said. Certain enough it is, that his 
 virtues made him not less noble than bis birth ; in war 
 undaunted and unfoiled, in peace tempering the awe 
 of magistracy with a natural mildness, he reigned 
 about twelve years. * In the mean while Kenric in a 
 fight at Searesbirig, now Salisbury, killed and put to 
 flight many of the Britons ; and the fourth year after 
 at Beranvirig,y now Banbury, as some think, with 
 Keaulin his son, put them again to flight. Keaulin 
 shortly after succeeded his father in the West-Sax- 
 ons. And Alia, descended also of Woden, but of an- 
 other line, set up a second kingdom in Deira, the south 
 part of Northumberland,* and held it thirty years ; 
 while Adda, the son of Ida, and five more after him, 
 reigned without other memory in Bernicia: and in 
 Kent, Ethelbert the next year began.* But Esca the 
 son of Hengist had left Otba, and he Emeric to rule 
 after him ; both which, without adding to their 
 bounds, kept what they had in peace fifty-three years. 
 But Ethelbert in length of reign equalled both his 
 progenitors, and as Beda counts, three years exceeded. 
 ''Young at his first entrance, and unexperienced, be 
 was the first raiser of civil war among the Saxons ; 
 claiming from the priority of time wherein Hengist 
 took possession here, a kind of right over the later 
 kingdoms; and thereupon was troublesome to their 
 confines : but by them twice defeated, he who but now 
 thought to seem dreadful, became almost contemptible. 
 For Keaulin and Cutha his son, pursuing him into his 
 own territory,'^ slew there in battle, at Wibbandun, 
 two of his earls, Oslac and Cneban. By this means 
 the Britons, but chiefly by this victory at Badon, for 
 the space of forty-four years, ending in five hundred 
 and seventy-one, received no great annoyance from 
 the Saxons : but the peace they enjoyed, by ill using 
 it, proved more destructive to them than war. For 
 being raised on a sudden by two such eminent suc- 
 cesses, from the lowest condition of thraldom, they 
 whose eyes had beheld both those deliverances, that by 
 Ambrose and this at Badon, were taught by the expe- 
 rience of either fortune, both kings, magistrates, priests, 
 and private men, to live orderly. But when the next 
 age,*^ unacquainted with past evils, and only sensible 
 of their present ease and quiet, succeeded, straight fol- 
 lowed the apparent subversion of all truth, and justice, 
 in the minds of most men : scarce the least forestep 
 or impression of goodness left remaining through all 
 ranks and degrees in the land ; except in some so very 
 few, as to be hardly visible in a general corruption : 
 which grew in short space not only manifest, but odious 
 to all the neighbouring nations. And first their kings, 
 amongst whom also the sons or grandchildren of Am- 
 brose, were foully degenerated to all tyranny and vici- 
 ous life. Whereof to hear some particulars out of Gil- 
 
 u Malms. 
 
 y Pott Cbrul. 5S6. Camden. 
 
 X Post Christ. 532. Anna), omn. 
 
 2 Post Christ. SCO. AnaiU Florent. 
 
 das, will not be impertinent. They avenge, saith he, 
 and they protect, not the innocent, but the guilty; 
 they swear oft, but perjure; they wage war, but civil 
 and unjust war. They punish rigorously them that rob 
 by the high-way ; but those grand robbers, that sit with 
 them at table, they honour and reward. They give 
 alms largely, but in the face of their almsdeeds, pile 
 up wickedness to a far higher heap. They sit in the 
 seat of judgment, but go seldom by the rule of right; 
 neglecting and proudly overlooking the modest and 
 harmless, but countenancing the audacious, though 
 guilty of abominable crimes; they stufl^ their prisons, , 
 but with men committed rather by circumvention than 
 by any just cause. Nothing better were the clergy, 
 but at the same pass, or rather worse than when the 
 Saxons came first in ; unlearned, unapprehensive, yet 
 impudent ; subtle prowlers, pastoi-s in name, but in- 
 deed wolves ; intent upon all occasions, not to feed the 
 flock, but to pamper and well-line themselves : not 
 called, but seizing on the ministry as a trade, not as a 
 spiritual charge; teaching the people not by sound 
 doctrine, but by evil example ; usurping the chair of 
 Peter, but through the blindness of their own worldly 
 lusts, they stumble upon the seat of Judas ; deadly haters 
 of truth, broachers of lies ; looking on the poor Chris- 
 tian with eyes of pride and contempt; but fawning on 
 tlie wickedest rich men without shame : great promoters 
 of other men's alms, with their set exhortations ; but 
 themselves contributing ever least : slightly touching 
 the many vices of the age, but preaching without end 
 their own grievances, as done to Christ; seeking after • 
 preferments and degrees in the church, more than after 
 heaven ; and so gained, made it their whole study how 
 to keep them by any tyranny. Yet lest they should 
 be thought things of no use in their eminent places, . 
 they have their niceties and trivial points to keep in > 
 awe the superstitious multitude; but in true saving 
 knowledge leave them still as gross and stupid as them- 
 selves ; bunglers at the Scripture, nay, forbidding and 
 silencing them that know ; but in worldly matters, 
 practised and cunning shifters ; in that only art and 
 simony great clerks and masters, bearing their heads 
 high, but their thoughts abject and low. He tates 
 them also as gluttonous, incontinent, and daily drunk- 
 ards. And what shouldst thou expect from these, poor 
 laity, so he goes on, these beasts, all belly .'' Shall these 
 amend thee, who are themselves laborious in evil do- 
 ings ? Shall thou see with their eyes, who see right 
 forward nothing but gain ? Leave them rather, as bids 
 our Saviour, lest ye fall both blindfold into the same 
 perdition. Are all thus ? Perhaps not all, or not so 
 grossly. But what availed it Eli to be himself blame- 
 less, while he connived at others that were abominable ? 
 Who of them hath been envied for his better life? Wiio 
 of them hath hated to consort with these, or withstood 
 their entering the ministry, or endeavoured zealously 
 their casting out.'' Yet some of these perhaps by others 
 are legended for great saints. This was the state of 
 government, this of religion among the Britons, in 
 
 a Post Christ. 56J. 
 
 c Auu. omn. Pust Christ. 506. 
 
 I> M;t1ms. 
 d Gildms. 
 
 
Book III. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 513 
 
 that long- calm of peace, wliich the fight at Badon-hill 
 had broug-ht forth. Whereby it came to pass, that so 
 fair a victory came to nothing. Towns and cities were 
 not reinhabited, but lay ruined and waste; nor was it 
 long ere domestic war breaking out wasted them more. 
 For Britain,* as at other times, had then also several 
 kings : five of whom Gildas, living then in Armorica 
 at a safe distance, boldly reproves by name : first, Con- 
 stantine, (fabled the son of Cador, duke of Cornwall, 
 Arthur's half, by the mother's side,) who then reigned 
 in Cornwall and Devon, a tyrannical and bloody king, 
 polluted also with many adulteries: he got into his 
 power two young princes of the blood royal, uncertain 
 whether before him in right, or otherwise suspected ; 
 and after solemn oath given of their safety the year 
 that Gildas wrote, slew them with their two governors 
 in the church, and in their mother's arms, through the 
 abbot's cope which he had thrown over them, thinking 
 by the reverence of his vesture to have withheld the 
 murderer. These are commonly supposed to be the 
 sons of Mordred, Arthur's nephew, said to have revolt- 
 ed from his uncle, giving him in a battle his death's 
 wound, and by him after to have been slain. Which 
 things, were they true, would much diminish the blame 
 of cruelty in Constantine, revenging Arthur on the 
 sons of so false a Mordred. In another part, but not 
 expressed where, Aurelius Conanus «as king : him he 
 charges also with adulteries, and parricide ; cruelties 
 worse than the former; to be a hater of his country's 
 peace, thirsting after civil war and prey. His con- 
 dition, it seems, was not very ])rospcrous, for Gildas 
 wishes him, being now left alone, like a tree withering 
 in tiie midst of a barren field, to remember the vanity 
 and arrogance of his father, and elder brethren, who 
 came all to untimely death in their youth. The third 
 reigning in Demetia, or South Wales, was Vortipor, 
 the son of a good father; he was, when Gildas wrote, 
 grown old, not in years only, but in adulteries ; and 
 in governing, full of falsehood and cruel actions. In 
 his latter days, putting away his wife, who died in di- 
 vorce, he became, if we mistake not Gildas, incestuous 
 with his daughter. The fourth was Cuneglas, im- 
 brued in civil war ; he also had divorced his wife, and 
 taken her sister, who had vowed widowhood : he was 
 a great enemy to the clergy, high-minded, and trust- 
 ing to his wealth. The last, but greatest of all in 
 power, was Maglocune, and greatest also in wicked- 
 ness : he had driven out, or slain, many other kings, 
 or tyrants, and was called the Island Dragon, perhaps 
 having his seat in Anglesey ; a profuse giver, a great 
 warrior, and of a goodly stature. While he was yet 
 young, he overthrew his uncle, though in the head of 
 a complete army, and took from him the kingdom : 
 then touched with remorse of his doings, not without 
 deliberation, took upon him the profession of a monk; 
 but soon forsook his vow, and his wife also ; which 
 for that vow he had left, making love to the wife of 
 his brother's son then living. Who not refusing the 
 oflTcr, if she were not rather the first that enticed, found 
 
 e Primord. p. 444. f Post Christ. 571. Camden. Annal. omn. 
 
 ? P?*^Ctlllst. 577. h Post Christ. 5&4. i Huntiiigd. 
 
 k 1 be kingdom otMtrcia. Huutiugd. Matt. "WesUn. 
 
 means both to dispatch her own husband, and the for- 
 mer wife of Maglocune, to make her marriage with 
 him the more unquestionable. Neither did he this for 
 want of better instructions, having had the learnedest 
 and wisest man, reputed of all Britain, the instituter 
 of his youth. Thus much, the utmost that can be 
 learnt by truer story, of what past among the Britons 
 from the time of their useless victory at Badon, to the 
 time that Gildas wrote, that is to say, as may be guess- 
 ed, from five hundred and twenty-seven to five hun- 
 dred and seventy-one, is here set down altogether; not 
 to be reduced under any certainty of years. But now 
 the Saxons, who for the most part all this while had 
 been still, unless among tiiemselves, began afresh to 
 assault them, and ere long to drive them out of all 
 which they had maintained on this side Wales. For 
 Cuthulf, the brother of Keaulin,^ by a victory obtained 
 at Bedanford, now Bedford, took from them four good 
 towns, Liganburgh, Eglesburgh, Bensington now Ben- 
 sun in Oxfordshire, and Igncsham ; but outlived not 
 many months his good success. And after six years 
 more,8 Keaulin, and Cuthwin his son, gave them great 
 overthrow at Deorrham in Gloucestershire, slew three 
 of their kings, Comail,Condidan,aud Farinmaile; and 
 three of their chief cities, Gloucester, Cirencester, and 
 Badencester. The Britons notwithstanding, after some 
 space of time,*i judging to have outgrown their losses, 
 gather to a head and encounter Keaulin, with Cutha 
 his son, at Fethanleage ; whom valiantly fighting, they 
 slew among the thickest, and, as is said, forced the 
 Saxons to retire.' But Keaulin, reinforcing the fight, 
 put them to a main rout ; and following his advantage, 
 took many towns, and returned laden with rich booty. 
 The last of those Saxons, who raised their own 
 achievements to a monarchy, was Crida, much about 
 this time, first founder of the Mercian kingdom,** draw- 
 ing also his pedigree from Woden. Of whom all to 
 write the several genealogies, though it might be done 
 without long search, were in my opinion to encumber 
 the story with a sort of barbarous names, to little pur- 
 pose. 1 This may suffice, that of Woden's three sons, 
 from the eldest issued Hengist, and his succession; from 
 the second, the kings of Mercia ; from the third all 
 that reigned in West-Saxony, and most of the North- 
 umbers, of whom Alia was one, the first king of Deira ; 
 which, after his death, the race of Ida seized, and made 
 it one kingdom with Bernicia,m usurping the childhood 
 of Edwin, Alla's son ; whom Ethclric, the son of Ida, 
 expelled. Notwithstanding others write of him, that 
 from a poor life, and beyond hope in his old age, com- 
 ing to the crown, he could hardly, by the access of a 
 kingdom, have overcome his former obscurity, had 
 not the fame of his son preserved him. Once more 
 the Britons," ere they quitted all on this side the 
 mountains, forgot not to show some manhood ; for 
 meeting Keaulin at Woden's-beortb, that is to say, 
 at Woden's-mount in Wiltshire;" whether it were 
 by their own forces, or assisted by the Angles, whose 
 hatred Keaulin had incurred, they ruined the whole 
 
 I Malmsb. 1. 1. c. 3. m Florent. ad ann. Post Christ. 559. 
 
 n Post Christ. &•»(. Annal. omn. 
 
 o Post Christ. 59C. llorent. Bed. 1. 2. c. 3. Malms. Florent. Sax. ana. 
 
514 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 army, and chased him out of his kingdom; from 
 whence flying, he died the next year in poverty, who a 
 little before was the most potent, and indeed sole king 
 of all the Saxons on this side the Huniber. But who 
 was chief among the Britons in this exploit had been 
 worth remembering, whether it were Maglocune, of 
 whose prowess hath been spoken, or Teudric king of 
 Glamorgan, whom the regest of Landaff recounts to 
 have been always victorious in fight ; to have reigned 
 about this time, and at length to have exchanged his 
 crown for an hermitage ; till in the aid of his son 
 Mouric, whom the Saxons had reduced to extremes, 
 taking arms again, he defeated them at Tinteme by 
 the river Wye; but himself received a mortal wound.P 
 The same year with Keaulin, whom Keola the son of 
 Cuthulf, Keaulin's brother, succeeded, Crida also the 
 Mercian king deceased, in whose room Wibba succeed- 
 ed ; and in Northumberland, Eihelfrid, in the room of 
 Ethelric, reigning twenty-four years. Thus omitting 
 fables, we have the view of what with reason can be 
 relied on for truth, done in Britain since the Romans 
 forsook it. Wherein we have heard the many miseries 
 and desolations brought by divine hand on a perverse 
 nation ; driven, when nothing else would reform them, 
 out of a fair country, into a mountainous and barren 
 corner, by strangers and pagans. So much more 
 tolerable in the eye of heaven is infidelity professed, 
 than christian faith and religion dishonoured by un- 
 chrbtian works. Yet they also at length renounced 
 their heathenism ; which how it came to pass, will be 
 the matter next related. 
 
 THE FOURTH BOOK. 
 
 The Saxons grown up now to seven absolute king- 
 doms, and the latest of them established by succession, 
 finding their power arrive well nigh at the utmost of 
 what was to be gained upon the Britons, and as little 
 fearing to be displanted by them, had time now to sur- 
 vey at leisure one another's greatness. Which quickly 
 bred among them either envy or mutual jealousies ; till 
 the west kingdom at length grown overpowerful, put 
 an end to all the rest." Meanwhile, above others, 
 Ethelbert of Kent, who by this time had well ripened 
 his young ambition, with more ability of years and ex- 
 perience in war, what before he attempted to his loss, 
 now successfully attains : and by degrees brought all 
 the other monarchies between Kent and Humber to be 
 at his devotion. To which design the kingdom of 
 West Saxons, being the firmest of them all, at that 
 time sore shaken by their overthrow at Woden's-beorth, 
 and the death of Keaulin, gave him, no doubt, a main 
 advantage ; the rest yielded not subjection, but as he 
 earned it by continual victories. •> And to win him the 
 more regard abroad, he marries Bertha the French 
 king's daughter, though a Christian, and with this con- 
 
 p Port Christ. 591. 
 c R«d. I. I.e. ?«. 
 
 • Bed. Malmi. b Bed. 1. 1, 
 
 d Bed. I.S. c. 1. 
 
 dition, to have the free exercise of her faith, under the 
 care and instruction of Letardus a bishop, sent by her 
 parents along with her; the king notwithstanding and 
 his people retaining their old religion. '^ Beda out of 
 Gildas lays it sadly to the Britons' charge, that they 
 never would vouchsafe their Saxon neighbours the 
 means of conversion ; but how far to blame they were,'' 
 and what hope there was of converting in the midst of 
 so much hostility, at least falsehood, from their first 
 arrival, is not now easy to determine. « Howbeit not 
 long after they had the christian faith preached to 
 them by a nation more remote, and (as report went, 
 accounted old in Beda's time) upon this occasion. 
 
 The Northumbrians had a custom at that time, and 
 many hundred years after not abolished, to sell their 
 children for a small value into any foreign land. Of 
 which number two comely youths were brought to 
 Rome, whose fair and honest countenances invited 
 Gregory, archdeacon of that city, among others that 
 beheld them, pitying their condition, to demand whence 
 they were ; it was answered by some who stood by, 
 that they were Angli of the province Deira, subjects to 
 Alia king of Northumberland; and by religion, pagans. 
 Which last Gregory deploring, framed on a sudden 
 this allusion to the three names he heard ; that the 
 Angli so like to angels should be snatched * de ira,' 
 that is, from the wrath of God, to sing hallelujah : and 
 forthwith obtaining license, of Benedict the pope, had 
 come and preached here among them, had not the 
 Roman people, whose love endured not the absence of 
 so vigilant a pastor over them, recalled him then on 
 his journey, though but deferred his pious intention. 
 •^For a while after, succeeding in the papal seat, and 
 now in his fourth year, admonished, saith Beda, by 
 divine instinct, he sent Augustin, whom he had de- 
 signed for bishop of the English nation, and other 
 zealous monks with him, to preach to them the gospel. 
 Who being now on their way, discouraged by some 
 reports, or their own carnal fear, sent back Austin, in 
 the name of all, to beseech Gregory they might return 
 home, and not be sent a journey so full of hazard, to a 
 fierce and infidel nation, whose tongue they understood 
 not. Gregory with pious and apostolic persuasions 
 exhorts them not to shrink back from so good a work, 
 but cheerfully to go on in the strength of divine assist- 
 ance. The letter itself, 3'et extant among our writers 
 of ecclesiastic story, I omit here, as not professing to 
 relate of those matters more than what mixes aptly 
 with civil aflfairs. The abbot Austin, for so he was 
 ordained over the rest, reincouraged by the exhorta- 
 tions of Gregory, and his fellows by the letter which 
 he brought them, came safe to the isle of Tanet,* in 
 number about forty, besides some of the French nation, 
 whom they took along as interpreters. Ethelbert the 
 king, to whom Austin at his landing had sent a new 
 and wondrous message, that he came from Rome to 
 proffer heaven and eternal happiness in the knowledge 
 of another God than the Saxons knew, appoints them 
 to remain where they had landed, and necessaries to 
 
 e Malin>. I. I. r. 3. 
 K Pott Christ. 597. 
 
 f P(Mt Christ. 696. 
 
Book IV. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 515 
 
 be provided them, consulting in the mean time what 
 was to be done. And after certain days coming- into 
 the island, chose a place to meet them under the open 
 sky, possessed with an old persuasion, that all spells, 
 if they should use any to deceive him, so it were not 
 within doors, would be unavailable. They on the 
 other side called to his presence, advancing for their 
 standard a silver cross, and the painted image of our 
 Saviour, came slowly forward, singing their solemn 
 litinies : which wrought in Ethelbert more suspicion 
 perhaps that they used enchantments; till sitting down 
 as the king willed them, they there preached to him, 
 and all in that assembly, the tidings of salvation. 
 Whom having heard attentively, the king thus an- 
 swered : " Fair indeed and ample are the promises 
 which ye bring, and such things as have the appear- 
 ance in them of much good ; yet such as being new 
 and uncertain, I cannot easily assent to, quitting the 
 religion which from my ancestors, with all the English 
 nation, so many years I have retained. Nevertheless 
 because ye are strangers, and have endured so long a 
 journey, to impart us the knowledge of things, which 
 I persuade me you believe to be the truest and the 
 best, ye may be sure, we shall not recompense you 
 with any molestation, but shall provide rather how we 
 may friendliest entertain ye ; nor do we forbid whom 
 ye can by preaching gain to your belief." And ac- 
 cordingly their residence he allotted them in Doroverne 
 or Canterbury his chief city, and made provision for 
 their maintenance, with free leave to preach their doc- 
 trine where they pleased. By which, and by the ex- 
 ample of their holy life, spent in prayer, fasting, and 
 continual labour in the conversion of souls, they won 
 many; on whose bounty and the king's, receiving 
 only what was necessary, they subsisted. There stood 
 without the city on the east side, an ancient church 
 built in honour of St. Martin, while yet the Romans 
 remained here : in which Bertha the queen went out 
 usually to pray : ^here they also began first to preach, 
 baptize, and openly to exercise divine worship. But 
 when the king himself, convinced by their good life 
 and miracles, became christian, and was baptized, which 
 came to ])ass in the very first year of their arrival, then 
 multitudes daily, conforming to their prince, thought 
 it honour to be reckoned among those of his faith. 
 To whom Ethelbert indeed principally showed his 
 favour, but compelled none. ' For so he had been 
 taught by them who were both the instructors and the 
 authors of his faith, that christian religion ought to be 
 voluntary, not compelled. About this time Kelwulf 
 the son of Cutha, Keaulin's brother, reigned over the 
 West Saxons,"* after his brother Keola or Kelric, and 
 had continual war either with English, Welsh, Picts, 
 or Scots. ' But Austin, whom with his fellows Ethel- 
 bert had now endowed with a better place for their 
 abode in the city, and other possessions necessary to 
 livelihood, crossing into France, was by the archbishop 
 of Aries, at the appointment of pope Gregory, ordained 
 archbishop of the English ; and returning, sent to 
 
 h Post Christ. 598. 
 
 k Sax. aim. Malms. Post Christ. 601. 
 2 L 
 
 Bed. 1. ?. c. 5. 
 
 Rome Laurence and Peter, two of his associates, to 
 acquaint the pope of his good success in England, and 
 to be resolved of certain theological, or rather levitical 
 questions : with answers to which, not proper in this 
 place, Gregory sends also to the great work of convert- 
 ing, that went on so happily, a supply of labourers, 
 Mellitus, Justus, Paulinus, Rufinian, and many others; 
 who what they were, may be guessed by the stuflT which 
 they brought with them, vessels and vestments for the 
 altar, copes, reliques, and for the archbishop Austin a 
 pall to say mass in : to such a rank superstition that 
 age was grown, though some of them yet retaining an 
 emulation of apostolic zeal. Lastly, to Ethelbert they 
 brought a letter with many presents. Austin, thus ex- 
 alted to archiepiscopal authority, recovered from the 
 ruins and other profane uses a christian church in Can- 
 terbury, built of old by the Romans, which he dedicated 
 by the name of Christ's church, and joining to it built 
 a seat for himself and his successors; a monastery also 
 near the city eastward, where Ethelbert at his motion 
 built St. Peter's, and enriched it with great endow- 
 ments, to be a place of burial for the archbishops and 
 kings of Kent : so quickly they stepped up into fel- 
 lowship of pomp with kings. "> While thus Ethelbert 
 and his people had their minds intent, Ethelfrid the 
 Northumbrian king was not less busied in far different 
 affairs : for being altogether warlike, and covetous of 
 fame, he more wasted the Britons than any Saxon king 
 before him ; winning from them large territories, which 
 either he made tributary, or planted with his own sub- 
 jects. "Whence Edan king of those Scots that dwelt 
 in Britain, jealous of his successes, carne against him 
 with a mighty army, to a place called Degsastan ; but 
 in the fight losing most of bis men, himself with a few 
 escaped : only Theobald the king's brother, and the 
 whole wing which he commanded, unfortunately cut 
 off, made the victory to Ethelfrid less intire. Yet from 
 that time no king of Scots in hostile manner durst pass 
 into Britain for a hundred and more years after : and 
 what some years before Kelwulf the West Saxon is 
 annalled to have done against the Scots and Picts, 
 passing through the land of Ethelfrid a king so potent, 
 unless in his aid and alliance, is not likely. Buchanan 
 writes as if Ethelfrid, assisted by Keaulin whom he mis- 
 titles king of East Saxons, had before this time a bat- 
 tle with Aldan, wherein Cutha, Keaulin's son, was slain. 
 But Cutha, as is above written from better authority, 
 was slain in fight against the Welsh twenty years be- 
 fore. ° The number of Christians began now to in- 
 crease so fast that Augustin, ordaining bishops under 
 him, two of his assistants Mellitus and Justus, sent 
 them out both to the work of their ministry. And 
 Mellitus by preaching converted the East Saxons, over 
 whom Sebert the son of Sleda, by permission of Ethel- 
 bert, being born of his sister Ricula, then reigned. 
 Whose conversion Ethelbert to gratulate, built them 
 the great church of St. Paul in London to be their 
 bishop's cathedral ; as Justus also had his built at Ro- 
 chester, and both gifted by the same king with fair 
 
 1 Bed. 1. i.e. 27. 
 n Post Christ. 603. 
 
 m Bed. I. 2. c. 34. 
 o Poet Christ 601. Bed. 1. 2. c. 3. 
 
516 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 possessions. Hitherto Austin laboured well ainoiiu' 
 infidels, but not with like commendatinn soun after 
 among Christians. P'or by means of Ethelbcrt sum- 
 moning* the Britain bisliops to a place on the edge of 
 Worcestershire, called from that time Augustin's oak, 
 be requires them to conform with him in the same day 
 of celebrating Easter, and many other points wherein 
 they differed from the rites of Rome : which when they 
 refused to do^not prevailing by dispute, he appeals to 
 a miracle, restoring to sight a blind man whom the 
 Britons could not cure. At this something moved, 
 though not minded to recede from their own opinions 
 without further consultation, they request a second 
 meeting : to which came seven Britain bishops, with 
 many other learned men, especially from the famous 
 monastery of Bangor, in which were said to be so 
 many monks, living all by their own labour, that being 
 divided under seven rectors, none had fewer than three 
 hundred. One man there was who staid behind, a 
 hermit by the life he led, w ho by his wisdom effected 
 more than all the rest who went: being demanded, 
 for they held him as an oracle, how they might know 
 Austin to be a man from God, that they might follow 
 him, he answered, that if they found him meek and 
 humble, they should be taught by him, for it was like- 
 liest to be the yoke of Christ, both what he bore him- 
 self, and would have them bear; but if he bore himself 
 proudly, that they should not regard him, for he was 
 then certainly not of God. They took his advice, and 
 basted to the place of meeting. ^Miom Austin, being 
 already there before them, neither arose to meet, nor 
 received in any brotherly sort, but sat all the while 
 pontifically in his chair. Whereat the Britons, as 
 they were counselled by the holy man, neglected him, 
 and neither hearkened to his proposals of conformity, 
 nor would acknowledge him for an archbishop : and 
 in the name of the rest,P Dinotbus, then abbot of 
 Bangor, is said thus sagely to have answered him : 
 " As to the subjection which you require, be thus per- 
 suaded of us, that in the bond of love and charity we 
 are all subjects and servants to the church of God, yea 
 to the pope of Rome, and every good Christian, to 
 help them forward, both by word and deed, to be the 
 children of God : other obedience than this we know 
 not to be due to him whom you term the pope ; and 
 this obedience we are ready to give both to him and 
 to every Christian continually. Besides, we are go- 
 verned under God by the bishop of Caerleon,who is to 
 oversee us in spiritual matters." To which Austin thus 
 presaging, some say menacing, replies, " Since ye re- 
 fuse to accept of peace with your brethren, ye shall have 
 war from your enemies ; and since ye will not with us 
 preach the word of life to whom ye ought, from their 
 hands ye shall receive death." This, though writers 
 agree not whether Austin spake it as his prophecy, or 
 as his plot against the Britons, fell out accordingly. 
 t For many years were not past, when Ethelfrid, whe- 
 ther of his own accord, or at the request of Ethelbert, 
 incensed by Austin, with a powerful host came to West- 
 
 p Sprlman. Concil. p. 108. 
 r Malm*, gest. puut. I. i. 
 
 q Sax.mnn. Hunting. Pott Chriit. 607. 
 ft Hue. aaa. 
 
 Chester, then Caer-legion. Where being met by the 
 British forces, and both sides in readiness to give the 
 onset, he discerns a company of men, not habited for 
 war, standing together in a place of some safely ; and 
 by them a squadron armed. Whom having learnt 
 upon some inquiry to be priests and monks, assembled 
 thither after three days' fasting, to pray for the good 
 success of their forces against him, " therefore they 
 first," saith he, " shall feel our swords ; for they who 
 pray against us, fight heaviest against us by their 
 prayers, and are our dangerousest enemies." And with 
 that turns his first charge upon the monks : Brocmail, 
 the captain set to guard them, quickly turns his back, 
 and leaves above twelve hundred monks to a sudden 
 massacre, whereof scarce fifty escaped. But not so easy 
 work found Ethelfrid against another part of Britons 
 that stood in arms, whom though at last he overthrew, 
 yet with slaughter nigh as great to his own soldiers. 
 To excuse Austin of this bloodshed, lest some might 
 think it his revengeful policy, Beda writes, that be 
 was dead long before, although if the time of his sitting 
 archbishop be right computed sixteen years, he must 
 survive this action. "■ Other just ground of charging 
 him with this imputation appears not, save what evi- 
 dently we have from Geoffrey of Monmouth, whose 
 weight we know. ' The same year Kelwulf made war 
 on the South Saxons, bloody, saith Huntingdon, to both 
 sides, but most to them of the south :' and four years 
 after dying, left the government of West Saxons to 
 Kinegils and Cuichelm, the sons of his brother Kcola. 
 Othei-s, as Florent of Worcester, and Matthew of West- 
 minster, will have Cuichelm son of Kinegils, but ad- 
 mitted to reign with his father, in whose third year" 
 they are recorded with joint forces or conduct to have 
 fought against the Britons in Beandune, now Bindon 
 in Dorsetshire, and to have slain of them above two 
 thousand. * More memorable was the second j'ear 
 following, by the death of Ethelbert the first christian 
 king of Saxons, and no less a favourer of all civility in 
 that rude age. He gave laws and statutes after the 
 example of Roman emperors, written with the advice 
 of his sagest counsellors, but in the English tongue, 
 and observed long after. Wherein his special care was 
 to punish those who had stolen aught from church or 
 churchman, thereby shewing how gratefully he received 
 at their hands the christian faith. Which, he no sooner 
 dead, but his son Eadbald took the course as fast to 
 extinguish ; not only falling back into heathenism, 
 but that which heathenism was wont to abhor, marry- 
 ing his father's second wife. Then soon was perceived 
 what multitudes for fear or countenance of the king 
 had professed Christianity, returning now as eagerly to 
 their old religion. Nor staid the apostacy within one 
 province, but quickly spread over to the East Saxons ; 
 occasioned there likewise, or set forward, by the death 
 of their christian king Sebert : whose three sons, of 
 whom two are named Sexted and Seward,y neither in 
 his lifetime would be brought to baptism, and after his 
 decease reestablished tlie free exercise of idolatry ; nor 
 
 t Post Christ. 611. Sax. un. Malm. 
 X Post Cbrist. 616. Sax. ao. 
 
 a Post Christ. 614. Camd. 
 y Malms. 
 
Book IV. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 517 
 
 so content, they set themselves in despig'ht to do some 
 open profanation ag'ainst the other sacrament. Coniing^ 
 therefore into the church where Mellitus the bishop 
 was ministering-, they required him in abuse and scorn 
 to deliver to them uubaptizcd the consecrated bread ; 
 and him refusing- drove disgracefully out of their do- 
 minion. Who crossed forthwith into Kent, where 
 thing's were in the same plight, and thence into France, 
 with Justus bishop of Rochester. But divine venge- 
 ance deferred not long the punishment of men so im- 
 pious; for Eadbald, vexed with an evil spirit, fell often 
 into foul fits of distraction ; and the sons of Sebert, in 
 a fight against the West Saxons, perished with their 
 whole army. But Eadbald, within the year, by an 
 extraordinary means became penitent. For when 
 Lawrence the archbishop and successor of Austin was 
 preparing to ship for France, after Justus and Mellitus, 
 the story goes, if it be worth believing, that St. Peter, 
 in whose church he sj)ent the night before in watching 
 and praying, appeared to him, and to make the vision 
 more sensible, gave him many stripes for oflTering to 
 desert his flock ; at sight whereof the king (to whom 
 next morning he showed the marks of what he had 
 suffered, by whom and for what cause) relenting and 
 in great fear, dissolved his incestuous marriage, and 
 applied himself to the christian faith more sincerely 
 than before, with all his people. But the Londoners, 
 addicted still to paganism, would not be persuaded to 
 receive again Mellitus their bishop, and to compel them 
 was not in his power. ' Thus much through all the 
 south was troubled in religion, as much were the north 
 parts disquieted through ambition. For Ethelfrid of 
 Bernicia, as was touched before, having thrown Edwin 
 out of Deira, and joined that kingdom to his own, not 
 content to have bereaved him of his right, whose known 
 virtues and high parts gave cause of suspicion to his 
 enemies, sends messengers to demand him of Redwald 
 king of East Angles ; under whose protection, after 
 many years wandering obscurely through all the island, 
 he had placed his safety. Redwald, though having 
 promised all defence to Edwin as to bis suppliant, yet 
 tempted with continual and large offers of gold, and 
 not contemning the puissance of Ethelfrid, yielded at 
 length, either to dispatch him, or to give him into their 
 hands : but earnestly e.xhorted by his wife, not to be- 
 tray the faith and inviolable law of hospitality and re- 
 fuge given,a prefers his first promise as the more reli- 
 gious ; nor only refuses to deliver him, but since war 
 was thereupon denounced, determines to be beforehand 
 with the danger ; and with a sudden army raised, 
 surprises Ethelfrid, little dreaming an invasion, and in 
 a fight near to the east side of the river Idle, on the 
 Mercian border, now Nottinghamshire, slays him,** 
 dissipating easily those few forces which he had got 
 to march out overhastily with him ; who yet, as a 
 testimony of his fortune not his valour to be blamed, 
 slew first with his own hands Reiner the king's son. 
 His two sons Oswald and Oswi, by Acca, Edwin's 
 sister, escaped into Scotland. By this victory Red- 
 wald became so far superiour to the other Saxon kings, 
 
 z Post Christ. 617. a Malms. I. 1. c. 8. b Camdtn. 
 
 that Beda reckons him the next after Ella and Ethel- 
 bert ; who, besides this conquest of the north, had 
 likewise all on the other side Humber at his obedience. 
 
 He had formerly in Kent received baptism,<= but com- 
 ing home, and persuaded by his wife, who still it seems 
 
 was his chief counsellor to good or bad alike, relapsed 
 into his old religion : yet not willing to forego his new, 
 thought it not the worst way, lest perhaps he might 
 err in either, for more assurance to keep them both ; and 
 in the same temple erected one altar to Christ, another 
 to his idols. But Edwin, as with more deliberation he 
 undertook, and with more sincerity retained, the christian 
 profession, so also in power and extent of dominion far 
 exceeded all before him ; subduing all, saith Beda, 
 English or British, even to the isles, then called Me- 
 vanian, Anglesey, and Man ; settled in his kingdom 
 by Redwald, he sought in marriage Edelburga, whom 
 others called Tate, the daughter of Ethelbert. To 
 whose embassadors Eadbald her brother made answer, 
 that " to wed their daughter to a pagan, was not the 
 christian law." Edwin replied, that " to her religion 
 he would be no hinderance, which with her whole 
 household she might freely exercise. And moreover, 
 that if examined it were found the better, he would 
 embrace it." These ingenuous offers, opening so fair 
 a way to the advancement of truth, are accepted,<i and 
 Paulinus as a spiritual guardian sent along with the 
 virgin. He being to that purpose made bishop by 
 Justus, omitted no occasion to plant the Gospel in those 
 parts, but with small success, till the next year^ Cui- 
 chelm, at that time one of the t»vo West-Saxon kings, 
 envious of the greatness which he saw Edwin growing 
 up to, sent privily Eumerus a hired swordsman to as- 
 sassin him ; who, under pretence of doing a message 
 from his master, with a poisoned weapon stabs at Ed- 
 win, conferring with him in his house, by the river 
 Derwent in Yorkshire, on an Easter-day ; which Lilla 
 one of the king's attendants, at the instant perceiving, 
 with a loyalty that stood not then to deliberate, aban- 
 doned his whole body to the blow; which notwith- 
 standing made passage through to the king's person 
 with a wound not to be slighted. The murderer en- 
 compassed now with swords, and desperate, forere- 
 venges his own fall with the death of another, whom his 
 poniard reached home. Paulinus omittingnoopportunity 
 to win the king from misbelief, obtained at length this 
 promise from him ; that if Christ whom he so magni- 
 fied, would give him to recover of his wound, and 
 victory of his enemies who had thus assaulted him, he 
 would then become christian, in pledge whereof he 
 gave his young daughter Eanfled, to be bred up in re- 
 lio-ion ; who, with twelve others of his family, on the 
 day of Pentecost was baptized. And by that time well 
 recovered of his wound, to punish the author of so foul 
 a fact, he went with an army against the West Sax- 
 ons : whom having quelled by war, and of such as had 
 conspired against hipi, put some to death, others par- 
 doned, he returned home victorious, and from that time 
 worshipped no more his idols, yet ventured not rashly 
 into baptism, but first took care to be instructed rightly 
 
 c Bed. 1. 2. c. 15. d Post Christ. 6CC. e Post Christ. 625. 
 
518 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 what be Icamt, examining and still considering' with 
 himself and others whom he held wisest ; though Bo- 
 niface the pope, hy large letters of exhortation both to 
 bim and his queen, was not wanting to quicken his be- 
 lief. But while be still deferred, and his deferring 
 might seem now to have passed the maturity of wis- 
 dom to a faulty lingering, Paulinus by revelation, as 
 was believed, coming to the knowledge of a secret 
 which befcl him strangely in the time of his troubles, 
 on a certain day went in boldly to him, and laying his 
 right band on the head of the king, asked him if he re- 
 membered what that sign meant ; the king trembling, 
 and in amaze rising up, straight fell at his feet. " Be- 
 bold," saith Paulinus, raising bim from the ground, 
 " God bath delivered you from your enemies, and 
 g^ven you the kingdom as you desired : perform now 
 what long since you promised him, to receive his doc- 
 trine, wbiclj I now bring you, and the faith, which if 
 you accept, shall to your temporal felicity add eternal." 
 The promise claimed of him by Paulinus, how and 
 wherefore made, though savouring much of legend is 
 thus related. Redwald, as we have beard before, daz- 
 zled with the gold of Ethelfiid, or by his threatening 
 overawed, having promised to yield up Edwin, one of 
 his faithful companions, of which he had some few 
 with him in the court of Redwald, that never shrunk 
 from bis adversity, about the first hour of the night 
 comes in baste to his chamber, and calling him forth 
 for better secrecy, reveals to him his danger, offers bim 
 his aid to make escape ; but that course not approved, 
 as seeming dishonourable without more manifest cause 
 to beg^n distrust towards one who had so long been 
 his only refuge, the friend departs. Edwin left alone 
 without the palace gate, full of sadness and perplexed 
 thoughts, discerns about the dead of night a man 
 neither by countenance nor' by habit to him known, 
 approaching towards bim. Who after salutation asked 
 bim, " why at this hour, when all others were at rest, 
 be alone so sadly sat waking on a cold stone." Edwin 
 not a little misdoubting who he might be, asked him 
 again, " what his sitting within doors, or without, con- 
 cenied him to know." To whom he again, "Think 
 not that who thou art, or why sitting here, or what 
 danger hangs over thee is to me unknown : but what 
 would you promise to that man, whoever would be- 
 friend you out of all these troubles, and persuade Red- 
 wald to tlie like .'* " " All that I am able," answered 
 Edwin. And he, '* What if the same man should pro- 
 mise to make you greater than any English king hath 
 been before you ? " " I should not doubt," quoth Ed- 
 win, " to be answerably grateful." " And what if to 
 all this be would inform you," said the other, " in a 
 way to happiness, beyond what any of your ancestors 
 hath known.' would you hearken to his council?" 
 Edwin without stopping promised "he would." And 
 the other laying bis right band on Edwin's head, 
 " When this sign," saith he, " shall next befal thee, 
 remember this time of night, and this discourse, to 
 perform what thou bast promised ;" and with these 
 words disappearing, he left Edwin much revived, but 
 
 fPortCluUt. 6?7. 
 
 not less filled with wonder, who this unknown should 
 be. When suddenly the friend who had been 
 gone all this while to listen further what was like to 
 be decreed of Edwin, comes back and joyfully bids 
 him rise to his repose, for that the king's mind, though 
 for a while drawn aside, was now fully resolved not 
 only not to betray him, but to defend him against all 
 enemies, as he had promised. This was said to be 
 the cause why Edwin admonished by the bishop of a 
 sign which had befallen bim so strangely, and as lie 
 thought so secretly, arose to bim with that reverence 
 and amazement, as to one sent from heaven, to claim 
 that promise of him which he perceived well was 
 due to a divine power, that bad assisted him in his 
 troubles. To Paulinus therefore he makes answer, 
 that the christian belief he himself ought by promise, 
 and intended to receive ; but would confer first with 
 his chief peers and counsellors, that if they like- 
 wise could be won, all at once might be baptized. 
 They therefore being asked in council what their 
 opinion was concerning this new doctrine, and well 
 perceiving which way the king inclined, every one 
 thereafter shaped his reply. The chief priest, speaking 
 first, discovered an old grudge he had against his gods, 
 for advancing others in the king's favour above him 
 their chief priest : another hiding his court-compliance 
 with a grave sentence, commended the choice of cer- 
 tain before uncertain, upon due examination ; to like 
 purpose answered all the rest of his sages, none openly 
 dissenting from vvhat was likely to be the king's creed : 
 whereas the preaching of Paulinus could work no such 
 effect upon them, toiling till that time without success. 
 Whereupon Edwin, renouncing heathenism, became 
 Christian : and the pagan priest, offering himself freely 
 to demolish the altars of his former g(»ds, made some 
 amends for bis teaching to adore them. ^ With Edwin, 
 his two sons Osfrid and Eanfrid, born to bim by Quen- 
 burga, daughter, as saith Beda, of Kearle king of Mer- 
 cia, in the time of his banishment, and with them most 
 of the people, both noble and commons, easily convert- 
 ed, were baptized ; he with his whole family at York, 
 in a church easily built up of wood, the multitude most 
 part in rivers. Northumberland thus christened, Pau- 
 linus, crossing Humber, converted also the province of 
 Lindsey, and Blecca the governor of Lincoln, with hi> 
 household and most of that city ; wherein he built a 
 church of stone, curiously wrought, but of small con- 
 tinuance; for the roof in Beda's lime, uncertain whether 
 by neglect or enemies, was down ; the walls only 
 standing. Meanwhile in Mercia, Kearle, a kinsman of 
 Wibba, saith Huntingdon, not a son, having long with- 
 held the kingdom from Penda, Wibba's son, left it now 
 at length in the fiftieth year of his age: with whom 
 Kinegils and Cuichelm, the West-Saxon kings, two 
 years after,* having by that time it seems recovered 
 strength, since the inroad made upon them by Edwin, 
 fought at Cirencester, then made truce. But Edwin 
 seeking every way to propagate the faith, which with 
 so much deliberation he had received, persuaded Eorp- 
 wald, the son of Redwald, king of East-Angles, to em- 
 
 ( Po*t Christ. GC9. Sax. ana. . 
 
Book IV. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 519 
 
 brace the same belief;'' willing-ly or in awe, is not 
 known, retaining under Edwin the name only of a 
 king. ' But Eorpwald not long survived his conver- 
 sion, slain in fight by Ricbert a pagan : whereby the 
 people havinglightly followed the religion of their king, 
 as lightly fell back to their old superstitions for above 
 three years after: Edwin in the mean while, to his 
 faith adding virtue, by the due administration of jus- 
 tice wrought such peace over all his territories, that 
 from sea to sea man or woman might have travelled in 
 safety. His care also was of fountains by the way side, 
 to make them fittest for the use of travellers. And not 
 unmindful of regal state, whether in war or in peace, 
 he had a royal banner carried before him. But having 
 reigned with much honour seventeen years, he was at 
 length by Kedvvallay or Cadwallon, king of the Bri- 
 tons, who with aid of the Mercian Penda had rebelled 
 against him, slain in a battle with his son Osfrid, at a 
 place called Hethfield, and his whole army overthrown 
 or dispersed in the year six hundred and thirty three,ic 
 and the forty-seventh of his age, in the eye of man 
 worthy a more peaceful end. His head brought to 
 York was there buried in the church by him begun. 
 Sad was this overthrow, both to church and state of the 
 Northumbrians: for Penda being a heathen, and the 
 British king, though in name a Christian, but in deeds 
 more bloody than the pagan, nothing was omitted of 
 barbarous cruelty in the slaughter of sex or age ; Ked- 
 walla threatening to root out the wiiole nation, though 
 then newly christian. For the Britons, and, as Beda 
 saith, even to his days, accounted Sa.xon Christianity 
 no better than paganism, and with them held as little 
 communion. From these calamities no refuge being 
 left but flight, Paulinus taking with him Ethilburga the 
 queen and her children, aided by Bassus, one of Ed- 
 win's captains, made escape by sea to Eadbald king of 
 Kent : who receiving his sister with all kindness, made 
 Paulinus bishop of Rochester, where he ended his days. 
 After Edwin, the kingdom of Northumberland became 
 divided as before, each rightful heir seizing his part; 
 in Dcira Osric, the son of Elfric, Edwin's uncle, by 
 profession a Christian, and baptized by Paulinus : in 
 Bernicia, Eanfrid the son of Ethelfrid ; who all the 
 time of Edwin, with his brother Oswald, and many of 
 the young nobility, lived in Scotland exiled, and bad 
 been there taught and baptized. No sooner had they 
 gotten each a kingdom, but both turned recreant, 
 sliding back into their old religion ; and both were the 
 same year slain ; Osric by a sudden eruption of Ked- 
 walla, whom he in a strong town had unadvisedly be- 
 sieged ; Eanfrid seeking peace, and inconsiderately 
 with a few surrendering himself. Kedwalla now ranged 
 at will through both those provinces, using cruelly his 
 conquest;' when Oswald the brother of Eanfrid with 
 a small but christian array unexpectedly coming on, 
 defeated and destroyed both him and his huge forces, 
 which he boasted to be invincible, by a little river run- 
 ning into Tine, near the ancient Roman wall then 
 called Denisburn, the place afterwards Heaven-field, 
 
 h Post Cliiist. 632. Sax, ami. 
 k Post Christ. 633. 
 
 i Florent. Genealog. 
 1 Post Christ. 034. 
 
 from the cross reported miracles for cures, which Os- 
 wald there erected before the battle, in token of his 
 faith against the great number of his enemies. Ob- 
 taining the kingdom he took care to instruct again the 
 people in Christianity. Sending therefore to the Scot- 
 tish elders, Beda so terms them, among whom he had 
 received baptism, requested of them some faithful 
 teacher, who might again settle religion in his realm, 
 which the late troubles had much impaired ; they, as 
 readily hearkening to his request, send Aidan, a Scotch 
 monk and bishop, but of singular zeal and meekness, 
 with others to assist him, whom at their own desire he 
 seated in Lindisfarne, as the episcopal seat, now Holy 
 Island : and being the son of Ethelfrid, by the sister 
 of Edwin, as right heir, others failing, easily reduced 
 both kingdoms of Northumberland as before into one; 
 nor of Edwin's dominion lost any part, but enlarged it 
 rather; overall the four British nations, Angles, Britons, 
 Picts, and Scots, exercising regal authority. Of his de- 
 votion, humility, and almsdeeds, much is .spoken ; that 
 he disdained not to be the interpreter of Aidan, preach- 
 ing in Scotch or bad English, to his nobles and house- 
 hold servants; and had the poor continually served at 
 his gate, after the promiscuous manner of those times : 
 bis meaning might be upright, but the manner more 
 ancient of private or of church-contribution is doubtless 
 more evangelical. "> About this time the West-Saxons, 
 anciently called Gevissi, by the preaching of Berinus, 
 a bishop, whom pope Honorius had sent, were con- 
 verted to the faith with Kinegils their king : him Os- 
 wald received out of the font, and his daughter in 
 marriage. ° The next year Cuichelm was baptized in 
 Dorchester, but lived not to the year's end. The East- 
 Angles also this year were reclaimed to the faith of 
 Christ, which for some years past they had thrown off. 
 But Sigbert the brother of Eorpwald now succeeded in 
 that kingdom, praised for a most christian and learned 
 man : who while his brother yet reigned, living in 
 France an exile, for some displeasure conceived against 
 him by Redwald his father, learned there the christian 
 faith ; and reigning soon after, in the same instructed 
 his people, by the preaching of Felix a Burgundian 
 bishop. 
 
 o In the year six hundred and forty Eadbold deceas- 
 ing, left to Ercombert, his son by Emma the French 
 king's daughter, the kingdom of Kent; recorded the 
 first of English kings, who commanded through his 
 limits the destroying of idols ; laudably, if all idols 
 without exception ; and the first to have established 
 Lent among us, under strict penalty; not worth re- 
 membering, but only to inform us, that no Lent was 
 observed here till his time by compulsion : especially 
 being noted by some to have fraudulently usurped 
 upon his elder brother Ermenred,P whose right was 
 precedent to the crown. Oswald having reigned eight 
 years,q worthy also as might seem of longer life, fell 
 into the same fate with Edwin, and from the same 
 hand, in a great battle overcome and slain by Penda, 
 at a place called Maserfield, now Oswestrc in Shrop- 
 
 m Post Christ. 635. Sax. an. 
 
 o Post Christ. 610. p Mat. West. 
 
 II Post Christ. 636. 
 q Post Christ. 64C. 
 
520 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 shire/ miraculous, as saith Beda, after his death. 
 » His brother Oswi succeeded him ; reig'uing, though 
 in much trouble, twenty -eight years; opposed either 
 by Penda, or his own son Alfred, or his brother's son 
 Ethilwald. ' Next year Kinegils the West-Saxon king 
 dying left his son Kenwalk in his stead, though as yet 
 unconverted. About this time Sigebert king of East- 
 Angles having learnt in France, ere his coming to 
 reign, the manner of their schools, with the assistance 
 of some teachers out of Kent instituted a school here 
 after the same discipline, thought to be the university 
 of Cambridge, then first founded ; and at length weary 
 of his kingly office, betook him to a monastical life ; 
 commending the care of government to his kinsman 
 Egric, who had sustained with him part of that burden 
 before. It happened some years after, that Penda 
 made war on the East-Angles : they expecting a sharp 
 encounter, besought Sigebert, whom they esteemed an 
 expert leader, with his presence to confirm the soldiery; 
 and him refusing, carried by force out of the monastery 
 into the camp ; where acting the monk rather than the 
 captain, with a single wand in his hand, he was slain 
 with Egric, and his whole army put to flight. Anna 
 of the royal stock, as next in right, succeeded ; and 
 hath the praise of a virtuous and most christian prince. 
 " But Kenwalk the West-Saxon having married the 
 sister of Penda, and divorced her, was by him with 
 more appearance of a just cause vanquished in fight, 
 and deprived of his crown : whence retiring to Anna 
 king of East-Angles, after three years abode in his 
 court " he there became christian, and afterwards re- 
 gained his kingdom. Oswi in the former years of his 
 reigii had sharer with him Oswin, nephew of Edwin, 
 who ruled in Deira seven years, commended much for 
 his zeal in religion, and for comeliness of person, with 
 other princely qualities, beloved of all. Notwithstand- 
 ing which, dissensions growing between them, it came 
 to arms. Oswin seeing himself much exceeded in 
 numbers, thought it more prudence, dismissing his 
 army, to reserve himself for some better occasion. But 
 committing his person with one faithful attendant to 
 the loyalty of Hunwald an earl, his imagined friend, 
 he was by him treacherously discovered, and by com- 
 mand of Oswi slain, y After whom within twelve 
 days, and for grief of him whose death he foretold, 
 died bishop Aidan, famous for his charity, meekness, 
 and labour in the gospel. The fact of Oswi was de-^ 
 testable to all ; which therefore to expiate, a monastery 
 was built in the place where it was done, and prayers 
 there daily offered up for the souls of both kings, the 
 slain and the slayer. Kenwalk, by this time re-in- 
 stalled in his kingdom, kept it long, but with various 
 fortune ; for Beda relates him ofttimes afflicted by his 
 enemies,' with great losses : and in six hundred and 
 fifty-two, by the annals, fought a battle (civil war 
 Ethelwerd calls it) at Bradanford by the river Afene ; 
 against whom, and for what cause, or who had the 
 victory, they write not. Camden names the place 
 Bradford in Wiltshire, by the river Avon, and Cuthred 
 
 r CmfiHtrn. t BmI. I. 3. c. II. 
 
 • Pom Christ. 616. &u. an. 
 
 t Post Chri<i». 643. Sax. so. 
 X Post Christ. 648. 
 
 his near kinsman, against whom he fought, but cites 
 no authority ; certain it is, that Kenwalk four years 
 before had given large possessions to his nephew 
 Cuthred, the more unlikely therefore now to have re- 
 belled. 
 
 ■The next year Peada, whom his father Penda, 
 though a heathen, had for his princely virtues made 
 prince of Middle-Angles, belonging to the Mercians, 
 was with that people converted to the faith. For com- 
 ing to Oswi with request to have in marriage Alfleda 
 his daughter, he was denied her, but on condition that 
 he with all his people should receive Christianity. 
 Hearing therefore not unwillingly what was preached 
 to him of resurrection and eternal life, much persuaded 
 also by Alfrid the king's son, who had his sister Kyni- 
 burg to wife, he easily assented, for the truth's sake 
 only as he professed, whether he obtained the virgin or 
 no, and was baptized with all his followers. Return- 
 ing, he took with him four presbyters to teach the 
 people of his province ; who by their daily preaching 
 won many. Neither did Penda, though himself no 
 believer, prohibit any in his kingdom to hear or believe 
 the gospel, but rather hated and despised those, who, 
 professing to believe, attested not their faith by good 
 works; condemning them for miserable and justly to 
 be despised, who obey not that God, in whom they 
 choose to believe. How well might Penda, this heathen, 
 rise up in judgment against many pretended Christians, 
 both of his own and these days ! yet being a man bred 
 up to war, (as no less were others then reigning, and 
 ofttimes one against another, though both Christians,) 
 he warred on Anna king of the '' East Angles, perhaps 
 without cause, for Anna was esteemed a just man, and 
 at length slew him. About this time the East Saxons, 
 who, as above hath been said, had expelled their bishop ] 
 Mellitus, and renounced the faith, were by the means 
 of Oswi thus reconverted. Sigebert, sumamed the 
 small, being the son of Seward, without other memory 
 of his reign, left his son king of that province, after 
 him Sigebert the second ; who coming often to visit 
 Oswi his great friend, was by him at several times 
 fervently dissuaded from idolatry, and convinced at 
 length to forsake it, was there baptized ; on his return 
 home taking with him Kedda a laborious preacher, 
 afterwards made bishop; by whose teaching, with 
 some help of olhers, the people were again recovered 
 from misbelief. But Sigebert some years after, though 
 standing fast in religion, w^as by the conspiracy of two 
 brethren, in place near about him, wickedly murdered ; 
 who being asked, " What moved them to a deed so 
 heinous," gave no other than this barbarous answer ; 
 " That they were angry with him for being so gentle 
 to his enemies, as to forgive them their injuries when- 
 ever they besought him." Yet his death seems to have 
 happened not without some cause by him given of 
 divine displeasure. For one of those earls who slewr 
 him, living in unlawful wedlock, and therefore excom- 
 municated so severely by the bishop, that no man 
 might presume to enter into his house, much less to sit 
 
 y Pnst Christ. 651. B«(lc. 
 • Post Christ. (M. 
 
 s KKi. 1. 3. C.7. P'wt Christ. 65J. 
 b Pom Christ. 661. Sax. an. 
 
Book IV. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 521 
 
 at meat with him, the king not reg-arding his church- 
 censure, went to feast with him at his invitation. 
 Whom the hishop meeting in his return, though peni- 
 tent for what he had done, and fallen at his feet, touched 
 with the rod in his hand, and angrily thus foretold : 
 " Because thou hast neglected to abstain from the house 
 of that excommunicate, in that house thou shalt die ;" 
 and so it fell out, perhaps from that prediction, God 
 bearing witness to his minister in the power of church- 
 discipline, spiritually executed, not juridically on the 
 contemner thereof. This year<= 655 proved fortunate 
 to Oswi, and fatal to Penda ; for Oswi by the continual 
 inroads of Penda having long endured much devast- 
 ation, to the endangering once by assault and fire 
 Bebbanburg,'^ his strongest city, now Bamborrow-cas- 
 tle, unable to resist him, with many rich presents offered 
 to buy his peace, which not accepted by the pagan,*' 
 who intended nothing but destruction to that king, 
 though more than once in affinity with him, turning 
 gifts into vows, he implores divine assistance, devoting, 
 if he were delivered from his enemy, a child of one 
 year old, his daughter, to be a nun, and twelve portions 
 of land whereon to build monasteries. His vows, as 
 may be thought, found better success than his proffered 
 gifts; for hereupon with his son Alfrid, gathering a 
 small power, he encountered and discomfited the Mer- 
 cians, thirty times exceeding his in number, and led on 
 by expert captains,' at a place called Laydes, now 
 Leeds in Yorkshire. Besides this Ethelwald, the son 
 of Oswald, who ruled in Deira, took part with the 
 Mercians; but in the fight withdrew his forces, and in 
 a safe place expected the event: with which unseason- 
 able retreat the Mercians, perhaps terrified and mis- 
 doubting more danger, fled ; their comma?iders, with 
 Penda himself, most being slain, among whom £dil- 
 here the brother of Anna, who ruled after him the East- 
 Angles, and was the author of this war; many more 
 flying were drowned in the river, which Beda calls 
 Winwed, then swoln above its banks.? The death of 
 Penda, who had been the death of so many good kings, 
 made general rejoicing, as the song witnessed. At the 
 river Winwed, Anna was avenged. To Edelhere suc- 
 ceeded Ethelwald his brother, in the East-Angles ; to 
 Sigebert in the East-Saxons, Suidhelm the son of Sex- 
 bald, saith Bede,*" the brother of Sigebert, saith Malms- 
 bury ; he was baptized by Kedda, then residing in the 
 East-Angles, and by Ethelwald the king received out 
 of the font. But Oswi in the strength of his late victory, 
 within' three years after subdued all Mercia, and of the 
 Pictish nation greatest part, at which time he gave to 
 Peada his son-in-law the kingdom of South-Mercia, 
 divided from the Northern by Trent. But Peada the 
 spring following, as was said, by the treason of his wife 
 the daughter of Oswi, married by him for a special Chris- 
 tian, on the feast of Easter'' not protected by the holy 
 time, was slain. The Mercian nobles, Immin, Eaba, 
 and Eadbert, throwing off the government of Oswi, set 
 up Wulfer the other son of Penda to be their king, 
 whom till then they had kept hid, and with him ad- 
 
 c Post Christ. 655. H Bed. 1. 3. c. J6. e Camd. 
 
 f Camden. g Mat. West. h Ee<l. 1. 3. c. 22. 
 
 i Post Christ. 658. Sax. aun. k Post Christ. 669. Sax. ann. 
 
 hered to the christian faith. Kenwalk the Wcst-Saxon, 
 now settled at home, and desirous to enlarge his do- 
 minion, prepares against the Britons, joins battle with 
 them at Pen in Somersetshire, and overcoming, pursues 
 them lo Pedridan. Another fight he had with them 
 before, at a place called Witgeornesburg, barely men- 
 tioned by the monk of Malmsbury. Nor was it long 
 ere he fell at variance with Wulfer the son of Penda, 
 his old enemy, scarce yet warm in his throne, fought 
 with him at Possentesburgh, on the Easter holydays,' 
 and as Ethelwerd saith, took him prisoner ; but the 
 Saxon annals, quite otherwise, that Wulfer winning 
 the field, wasted the West-Saxon country as far as 
 Eskesdun : nor staying there, took and wasted the 
 isle of Wight, but causing the inhabitants to be bap- 
 tized, till then unbelievers, gave the island to Ethel- 
 wald king of South-Saxons, whom he had received out 
 of the font. The year "' six hundred and sixty-four a 
 synod of Scottish and English bishops, in the presence 
 of Oswi and Alfred his son, was held at a monastery in 
 those parts, to debate on what day Easter should be 
 kept ; a controversy which long before had disturbed 
 the Greek and Latin churches : wherein the Scots not 
 agreeing with the way of Rome ; nor yielding to the 
 disputants on that side, to whom the king most in- 
 clined, such as were bishops here, resigned, and returned 
 home with their disciples. Another clerical question 
 was there also much controverted, not so superstitious 
 in my opinion as ridiculous, about the right shaving of 
 crowns. The same year was seen an eclipse of the sun 
 in May, followed by a sore pestilence beginning in the 
 South," but spreading to the North, and over all Ireland 
 with great mortality. In which time the East-Saxons, 
 after Swithelm's decease, being governed by Sigcr the 
 son of Sigebert the small, and Sebbi of Seward, though 
 both subject to the Mercians ; Siger and his people 
 unsteady of faith, supposing that this plague was come 
 upon them for renouncing their old religion, fell off 
 the second time to infidelity. Which the Mercian king 
 Wulfer understanding, sent Jarumannus a faithful 
 bishop, who with other his fellow-labourers, by sound 
 doctrine and gentle dealing, soon recured them of 
 their second relapse. In Kent, Ercombert expiring, 
 was succeeded by his son Ecbcrt. In whose fourth 
 year,o by means of Theodore, a learned Greekish 
 monk of Tarsus, whom pope Vitalian had ordained 
 archbishop of Canterbury, the Greek and Latin tongue, 
 with other liberal arts, arithmetic, music, astronomy, 
 and the like, began first to flourish among the Saxons; 
 as did also the whole land, under potent and religious 
 kings, more than ever before, as Bede affirms, till his 
 own days. Two years? after in Northumberland died 
 Oswi, much addicted to Romish rites, and resolved, 
 had his disease released him, to have ended his days 
 at Rome. Ecfrid, the eldest of his sons begot in wed- 
 lock, succeeded him. After other t three years, Ecbert 
 in Kent deceasing, left nothing memorable behind 
 him, but the general suspicion to have slain or connived 
 at the slaughter of his uncle's two sons, Elbert and 
 
 I Post Christ. 661. Sax. ann. 
 
 n Mahns. 
 
 p Post Christ. 670. Sax. ann. 
 
 m Post Christ. 661. Bed. 
 Post Christ. 66ft. Sax. ann. 
 
 q Post Christ. 673. Sax. ann. 
 
1^ 
 
 622 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Egelbrig-lit. In recompense whereof be gave to the' 
 mother of them part of Tanet, wherein to build an ab- 
 bey ; the kingdom fell to his brother Lothair. And 
 much about this time by best account it should be, how- 
 erer placed in Beda,» that EcfridofNorthunibcrland, hav- 
 ing war with the Mercian Wulfer, won from him Lind- 
 sej, and the country thereabout. Sebbi having reigned 
 over the East-Saxons thirty years, not long before his 
 death, though long before desiring, took on him the 
 habit of a monk ; and drew his wife at length, though 
 unwilling, to the same devotion. Kenwalk also dying 
 left the government to Sexburga his wife, who outlived 
 him in it but one year, driven out, saith Mat. Westm. 
 by the nobles disdaining female government. * After 
 whom several petty kings, as Beda calls them, for ten 
 years space divided the West-Saxons ; others name 
 two, Escwin, the nephew of Kinegils, and Kentwin 
 the son, not petty by their deeds :" for Escwin fought 
 a battle with Wulfer,* at Bedanhafde, and about a year 
 after both deceased ; but Wulfer not without a stain 
 left behind him of selling the bishoprick of London to 
 Wini; the first simonist we read of in this story: Ken- 
 walk had before expelled him from his chair at Win- 
 chester. Ethelred, the brother of Wulfer, obtaining 
 next the kingdom of Mercia, not only recovered Lindsey, 
 and what besides in those parts Wulfer had lost to 
 Ecfrid some years before, but found himself strong 
 enough to extend his arms another way, as far as Kent, 
 wasting that country without respect to church or mo- 
 nastery,!^ much also endamaging the city of Rochester, 
 notwithstanding what resistance Lothair could make 
 against him. '^ In August six hundred and seventy- 
 eight was seen a morning comet for three months fol- 
 lowing, in manner of a fiery pillar. And the South- 
 Saxons about this time were converted to the christian 
 faith, upon this occasion. Wilfred bishop of the Nor- 
 thumbrians entering into contention with Ecfrid the 
 king, was by him deprived of his bishoprick, and long 
 wandering up and down as far as Rome," returned at 
 length into England ; but not daring to approach the 
 north, whence he was banished, bethought him where 
 he might to best purpose elsewhere exercise his minis- 
 try. The south of all other Saxons remained yet 
 heathen ; but Ediwalk their king not long before had 
 been baptized in Mercia, persuaded by Wulfer, and 
 by him, as hath been said, received out of the font, 
 '' For which relation's sake he had the Isle of Wight, 
 and a province of the Meannari adjoining given him 
 on the continent about Meanesborow in Hantshire, 
 which Wulfer had a little before gotten from Kenwalk. 
 Thither Wilfrid takes his journey, and with the help of 
 other spiritual labourers about him, in short time planted 
 there the gospel. It had not rained, as is said, of 
 three years before in that country, whence many of 
 the people daily perished by famine ; till on the first 
 day of their public baptism, soft and plentiful showers 
 descending restored all abundance to the summer fol- 
 lowing. « Two years after this, Kentwin the other 
 
 r Malms, 
 u S«x. an. 
 
 « Po.t ( hiirt. 678. -,„ 
 c Putt Chrbu 661. Sax. an. 
 
 » Bed I. 4. c 12. t Post ChrUl. »74. Bed. I. 4. c. IC. 
 
 X Mailm*. Post Christ. 676 . y Bed I 4. c 12 
 
 a Pott Christ. 679. b Bed. I, 4. c. 1.1. Camden, 
 d Post Christ. 663. Smx. ao. 
 
 West-Saxon king above named, chaced the Welsh 
 Britons, as is chronicled without circumstance, to 
 the very sea-shore. But in the year, by Beda's reck- 
 oning, six hundred and eighty-three,** Kedvalla a 
 West-Saxon of the royal line, (whom the Welsh 
 will have to be Cadwallader, last king of the Britons,) 
 thrown out by faction, returned from banishment, and 
 invaded both Kentwin, if then living, or whoever 
 else had divided the succession of Kenwalk, slay- 
 ing in fight Edelwalk the South-Saxon, who op- 
 posed him in their aid;" but soon after was re- 
 pulsed by two of his captains, Bertune and Andune, 
 who for a while held the province in their power. ^ 
 But Kedwalla gathering new force, with the slaughter 
 of Bertune, and also of Edric the successor of Edel- 
 walk, won the kingdom ; but reduced the people to 
 heavy thraldom.* Then addressing to conquer the 
 Isle of Wight, till that time pagan, saith Beda, (others 
 otherwise, as above hath been related,) made a vow, 
 though himself yet unbaptized, to devote the south 
 part of that island, and the spoils thereof, to holy uses. 
 Conquest obtained, paying his vow as then was the be- 
 lief, he gave his fourth to bishop Wilfrid, by chance 
 there present ; and he to Bertwin a priest, his sister's 
 son, with commission to baptize all the vanquished, 
 who meant to save their lives. But the two young 
 sons of Arwald, king of that island, met with much 
 more hostility : for they, at the enemy's approach fly- 
 ing out of the isle, and betrayed where they were hid 
 not far from thence, were led to Kcdvvaller, who lay 
 then under cure of some wounds received, and by his 
 appointment, after instruction and baptism first given 
 them, harshly put to death, which the youths are said 
 above their age to have christianly suffered. In Kent 
 Lothair died this year of his wounds received in the 
 fight against the South-Saxons, led on by Edric, who 
 descending from Ermenred, it seems challenged the 
 crown, and wore it, though not commendably, one 
 year and a half: but coming to a violent death,'' left 
 the land exposed a prey either to homebred usurpers, or 
 neighbouring invaders. Among whom Kedwalla, 
 taking advantage from their civil distempers, and 
 marching easily through the South-Saxons, whom he 
 had subdued, sorely harassed the county, untouched 
 of a long time by any hostile incursion. But the 
 Kentish men, all parties uniting against a common 
 enemy, with joint power so opposed him, that he was 
 constrained to retire back ; his brother Mollo in the 
 flight, with twelve men in his company, seeking 
 shelter in a house was beset, and therein burnt by the 
 pursuers:' Kedwalla much troubled at so great a loss, 
 recalling and soon rallying his disordered forces, re- 
 turned fiercely upon the chasing enemy ;'' nor could 
 he be got out of the province, till both by fire and 
 sword he had avenged the death of his brother.' At 
 length Victred, the son of Ecbert, attaining the king- 
 dom, both settled at home all things in peace, and se- 
 cured his borders from all outward hostility.™ While 
 
 e Bed. I. 4. c. 15. f Malms. Post. Christ. 684. ir Bed. 1. 4. c 12. 
 
 h Post Christ. 685. Malms. 
 
 i Sax. an. Malms. k Post Christ. 686. 
 
 I Post Chrut. 667. m Bed. 
 
Book IV. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 623 
 
 thus Kedwalla disquieted both West and East, after 
 his winning' the crown, Ecfrid the Northumbrian, 
 and Ethelred the Mercian, fought a sore battle by the 
 river Trent ; wherein Elfwin brother to Ecfrid, a youth 
 of eighteen years, much beloved, was slain ; and the 
 accident likely to occasion much more shedding of 
 blood, peace was happily made up by the grave exhor- 
 tation of Archbishop Theodore, a pecuniary fine only 
 paid to Ecfrid, as some satisfaction for the loss of his 
 brother's life. Another adversity befel Ecfrid in his 
 family, by means of Ethildrith his wife, king- Anna's 
 daughter, who having taken him for her husband, and 
 professing to love him above all other men, persisted 
 twelve years in the obstinate refusal of his bed, thereby 
 thinking to live the purer life. So perversely then 
 was chastity instructed against the apostle's rule. At 
 length obtaining' of him with much importunity her 
 departure, she veiled herself a nun, then made abbess 
 of Ely, died seven years after of the pestilence ; and 
 might with better warrant have kept faithfully her un- 
 dertaken wedlock, though now canonized St. Audrey 
 of Ely. In the mean while Ecfrid had sent Berlus 
 with a power to subdue Ireland, a harmless nation, 
 saith Btda, and ever friendly to the English ; in both 
 which they seem to have left a posterity much unlike 
 them at this day ; miserably wasted, without regard 
 had to places hallowed or profane ; they betook them- 
 selves partly to their weapons, partly to implore divine 
 aid ; and, as was thought, obtained it in their full 
 avengement upon Ecfrid. For he the next year, against 
 the mind and persuasion of his sagest friends, and es- 
 pecially of Cudbert a famous bishop of that age, 
 marcl)ing unadvisedly against the Picts, who long be- 
 fore had been subject to Northumberland, was by them 
 feigning- flight, drawn unawares into narrow straits, 
 overtopped with hills, and cut off with most of his 
 army. From which time, saith Beda, military valour 
 began among the Saxons to decay, not only the Picts 
 till then peaceable, but some part of the Britons also 
 recovered by arms their liberty for many years after. 
 Yet Alfrid elder, but base brother to Ecfrid, a man said 
 to be learned in the Scriptures, recalled from Ireland, 
 to which place in his brother's reign he had retired, 
 and now succeeding, upheld with much honour, though 
 in narrower bounds, the residue of his kingdom. Ked- 
 walla having now with great disturbance of his neigh- 
 bours reigned over the West-Saxons two years, besides 
 what time he spent in gaining it, wearied perhaps 
 with his own turbulence, went to Rome, desirous there 
 to receive baptism, which till then his worldly affixirs 
 had deferred ; and accordingly, on Easter-day, six 
 hundred and eighty-nine," he was baptized by Sergius 
 the pope, and his name changed to Peter. All which 
 notwithstanding, surprised with a disease, he outlived 
 not the ceremony so far sought much above the space 
 of five weeks, in the thirtieth year of his age, and in 
 the church of St. Peter was there buried, with a large 
 epitaph upon his tomb. Him succeeded Ina of the 
 royal family, and from the time of his coming in for 
 
 n Post Christ. 689. 
 p Post Christ. 694. 
 s Piist Christ. 704. 
 
 o Malms. Sax. an. Klhelwerd. 
 q Post Christ. 697. r Post Clirist. 698. 
 
 t Post Christ. 705. u Post Clirist. 7o9. 
 
 many years oppressed the land with like grievances, 
 as Kedwalla had done before him, insomuch that in 
 those times there was no bishop among them. His 
 first expedition was into Kent, to demand satisfaction 
 for the burning of Mollo : Victred, loth to hazard all, 
 for the rash act of a few, delivered up thirty of those 
 that could be found accessory, or as others say, pa- 
 cified Ina with a great sum of money." Meanwhile, 
 at the incitement of Ecbert, a devout monk, Wil- 
 brod, a priest eminent for learning, passed over sea, 
 having twelve others in company, with intent to 
 preach the gospel in Germany.p And coming to 
 Pepin chief regent of the Franks, who a little before 
 had conquered the hither Frisia, by his countenance 
 and protection, promise also of many benefits to them 
 who should believe, tb^y found the work of conversion 
 much the easier, and Wilbrod the first bishopric in 
 that nation. But two priests, each of them Hewald 
 by name, and for distinction surnamed from the colour 
 of their hair, the black and the white, by his example 
 piously aflTected to the souls of their countrymen the 
 Old Saxons, at their coming thither to convert them 
 met with much worse entertainment. For in the house 
 of a farmer, who had promised to convey them, as they 
 desired, to the govemour of that country, discovered 
 b}' their daily ceremonies to be christian priests, and 
 the cause of their coming suspected, they were by him 
 and his heathen neighbours cruelly butchered ; yet not 
 unavenged, for the govemour enraged at such violence 
 offered to his strangers, sending armed men slew all 
 those inhabitants, and burnt their village. i After 
 three years in Mercia, Ostrid the queen, wife to Ethel- 
 red, was killed by her own nobles, as Beda's epitome 
 records; Florence calls them Southimbrians, negli- 
 gently omitting the cause of so strange a fact. ""And 
 the year following, Bethred a Northumbrian general, 
 was slain by the Picts. * Ethelred, seven years after 
 the violent death of his queen, put on the monk, and 
 resigned his kingdom to Kenrid the son of Wulfer his 
 brother. *The next year Alfrid in Northumberland 
 died, leaving Osred a child of eight years to succeed 
 him. "Four years after which, Kenred, having a 
 while with praise governed the Mercian kingdom, 
 went to Rome in the time of pope Constantine, and 
 shorn a monk spent there the residue of his days. 
 Kelred succeeded him, the son of Ethelred, who had 
 reigned the next before. With Kenred went Offa the 
 son of Siger, king of the East-Saxons, and betook him 
 to the same habit, leaving his wife and native country; 
 a comely person in the prime of his youth, much de- 
 sired of the people ; and such his virtue by report, as 
 might have otherwise been worthy to have reigned. 
 *Ina the West-Saxon one year after fought a battle, 
 at first doubtful, at last successful, against Gerent king 
 of Wales, y The next year Bertfrid, another Northum- 
 brian, captain, fought with the Picts, and slaughtered 
 them, saith Huntingdon, to the full avengement of 
 Ecfrid's death. ^The fourth year after, Ina had an- 
 other doubtful and cruel battle at Woodnesburgh in 
 
 X Post Christ. 710. Sax. Annal. 
 z Bed. Epid. Post Christ. 715. 
 
 y Huntingd. Post Christ. 7 A. 
 
524 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Wiltshire, with Kenred the Mercian, who died the year 
 followin<^ a lamentable death : * for as he sat one day 
 feastintf with his nobles, suddenly possessed with an 
 evil spirit, he expired in despair, as Boniface arch- 
 bishop of Mentz, an Englishman, who taxes him for a 
 defilcr of nuns, writes by way of caution to Ethelhald 
 bis next of kin, who succeeded him. Osrcd also a 
 young Nortbumbrian king, slain by his kindred in the 
 eleventh of his reign for his vicious life and incest 
 committed with nuns, was by Kenred succeeded and 
 avenged ; he reigning two years left Osric in his room. 
 ''In whose seventh year, if Beda calculate right, Vic- 
 tre<l king of Kent deceased, having reigned thirty-four 
 years, and some part of them with Suebbard, as Beda*^ 
 testifies. He left behind him three sons, Ethclbert, 
 Eadbert, and Alric his heirs. '^ Three yeai^s after which 
 appeared two comets about the sun, terrible to behold, 
 the one before him in the morning, the other after him 
 in the evening, for the space of two weeks in January, 
 bending their blaze toward the north ; at which time 
 the Saracens furiously invaded France, but were ex- 
 pelled soon after with great overthrow. The same >'ear 
 in Northumberland, Osric, dying or slain, adopted 
 Kelwulf the brother of Kenred his successor, to whom 
 Beda dedicates his story ;« but writes this only of him, 
 that the beginning and the process of his reign met 
 with many adverse commotions, whereof the event was 
 then doubtfully expected. Meanwhile Ina, seven 
 years before having slain Kenwulf, to whom Florent 
 gives the addition of Clito, given usually to none but 
 of the blood royal, and the fourth year after overthrown 
 and slain .Albright another Clito, driven from Taunton 
 to the South-Saxons for aid, vanquished also the East- 
 Angles in more than one battle, as Malmsbury writes, 
 but not the year; whether to expiate so much blood, 
 or infected with the contagious humour of those times, 
 Malmsbury saith, at the persuasion of Ethelburga his 
 wife, went to Rome, and there ended his days; yet this 
 praise left behind him, to have made good laws, the 
 first of Saxon that .-emain extant to this day, and to 
 his kinsman Edclard bequeathed the crown, no less 
 than the whole monarchy of England and Wales. For 
 Ina, if we believe a digression in the laws of Edward 
 confessor, was the first king crowned of English and 
 British, since the Saxons' entrance ; of the British by 
 means of his second wife, some way related to Cad- 
 wallader last king of Wales, which I had not noted, 
 being unlikely, but for the place where I found it. 
 *^ After Ina, by a surer author, Ethelhald king of Mer- 
 cia commanded all the provinces on this side Humber, 
 with their kings : the Picts were in league with the 
 English, the Scots peaceable within their bounds, and 
 of the Britons part were in their own government, 
 part subject to the English. In which peaceful state 
 of the land, many in Northumberland, both nobles and 
 commons, laying aside the exercise of arms, betook 
 them to the cloister : and not content so to do at home, 
 many in the days of Ina, clerks and laics, men and 
 women, hasting to Rome in herds, thought themselves 
 
   %»*■ »n- Huniingd. Post Christ. 7je. 
 
 d P^5 rhK'.I- ?i2- '^ L. 5. c. 9. Port ChrisJ. 7«5. 
 
 a Pet Cbnst. 788. « Bed. I. 5. c. 'Z4. 
 
 no where sure of eternal life till they were cloistered 
 there. Thus representing the state of things in this 
 island, Beda surceased to write. Out of whom chiefly 
 has been gathered, since the Saxons' arrival, such as 
 hath been delivered, a scattered story picked out here 
 and there, with some trouble and tedious work, from 
 among his many legends of visions and miracles ; 
 toward the latter end so bare of civil matters, as 
 what can be th«nce collected may seem a calendar 
 rather than a history, taken up for the most part with 
 succession of kings, and computation of years, j'ct 
 those hard to be reconciled with the Saxon annals. 
 Their actions we read of were most commonly wars, 
 but for what cause waged, or by what councils carried 
 on, no care was had to let us know ; whereby their 
 strength and violence we understand, of their wis- 
 dom, reason, or justice, little or nothing, the rest 
 superstition and monastical affectation ; kings one 
 after another leaving their kingly charge, to run their 
 heads fondly into a monk's cowl ; which leaves us 
 uncertain whether Beda was wanting to his matter, or 
 his matter to him. Yet from hence to the Danish in- 
 vasion it will be worse with us, destitute of Beda. Left 
 only to obscure and blockish chronicles ; whom Malms- 
 bury, and Huntingdon, (for neither they nor we had 
 better authors of those times,) ambitious to adorn the 
 history, make no scruple ofttimes, I doubt, to interline 
 with conjectures and surmises of their own; them rather 
 than imitate, I shall choose to represent the truth 
 naked, though as lean as a plain journal. Yet William 
 of Malmsbury must be acknowledged, both for style 
 and judgment, to be by far the best writer of them all : 
 but what labour is to be endured turning over volumes of 
 rubbish in the rest, Florence of Worcester, Huntingdon, 
 Simeon of Durham, Hoveden, Matthew of Westmin- 
 ster, and many others of obscurer note, with all their 
 monachisms, is a penance to think. Yet these are our 
 only registers, transcribers one after another for the 
 most part, and sometimes worthy enough for the things 
 they reiiister. This travail, rather than not know at 
 once what may be known of our ancient story, sifted 
 from fables and impertinences, I voluntarily undergo ; 
 and to save others, if they please, the like unpleasing 
 labour; except those who take pleasure to be all their 
 lifetime raking the foundations of old abbeys and ca- 
 thedrals. But to my task now as it befalls. 8 In the 
 year seven hundred and thirty-three, on the eighteenth 
 kalends of September, was an eclipse of the sun about 
 the third hour of day, obscuring almost his whole 
 orb as with a black shield. •> Ethelhald of Mercia be- 
 sieged and took the castle or town of Somerton : • and 
 two years after Beda our historian died, .some say the 
 year before. ^ Kelwulf in Northumberland three years 
 after became monk in Lindisfarne, yet none of the se- 
 verest, for he brought those monks from milk and water 
 to wine and ale ; in which doctrine no doubt but they 
 were soon docile, and well might, for Kelwulf brought 
 with him good provision, great treasure and revenues 
 of land, recited by Simeon, yet all under pretence of 
 
 f BHe. Post Clirist.TSl. 
 
 h F.(lirlw«r'l. 
 
 k Pott ChrUt. 738. Malms. 
 
 g Post Christ. IM. Sax. an. 
 , i Post Christ, 735. 
 
Book IV 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 525 
 
 following- (I use the author's words) poor Christ, by 
 voluntary poverty : no marvel then if such applause 
 were given by monkish writers to kings turning monks, 
 and much cunning perhaps used to allure them. To 
 Eadbert his uncle's son, he left the kingdom, whose 
 brother Ecbert, archbishop of York, built a library 
 there. ' But two years after, while Eadbert was busied 
 in war against the Picts, Ethelbald the Mercian, by 
 foul fraud, assaulted part of Northumberland in his 
 absence, as the supplement to Beda's epitome records. 
 In tlie West-Saxons, Edelard, who succeeded Ina, 
 having been much molested in the beginning of his 
 reign, with the rebellion of Oswald his kinsman, who 
 contended with him for the right of succession, over- 
 coming at last those troubles, died in peace seven hun- 
 dred and forty-one,'" leaving Cuthred one of the same 
 lineage to succeed him ; w ho at first had much war 
 with Ethelbald the Mercian, and various success, but 
 joining with him in league two years after," made war 
 on tlie Welsh ; Huntingdon doubts not to give them a 
 great victory. ° And Simeon reports another battle 
 fought between Britons and Picts the year ensuing. 
 Now was the kingdom of East-Saxons drawing to a 
 period, for Sigeard and Senfred the sons of Sebbi hav- 
 ing reigned a while, and after them young Offa, who 
 soon quitted his kingdom to go to Rome with Kenred, 
 as hath been said, the government was conferred on 
 Selred son of Sigebert the Good, who having ruled 
 thirty-eight years,P came to a vi-)lent death; how or 
 wherefore, is not set down. After whom Swithred was 
 the last king, driven out by Ecbert the West-Saxon: 
 but London, with countries adjacent, obeyed the Mer- 
 cians till they also were dissolved. *> Cuthred had now- 
 reigned about nine years, when Kinric his son, a va- 
 liant young prince, was in a military tumult slain by 
 his own soldiers. The same year Eadbert dying in 
 Kent, his brother Edilbert reigned in his stead. ^ But 
 after two years, the other Eadbert in Northumberland, 
 wliose war with the Picts hath been above mentioned, 
 made now such progress there, as to subdue Kyle, so 
 saith the auctarie of Bede, and other countries there- 
 about, to his dominion ; while Cuthred the West-Saxon 
 had a fight with Ethelhun, one of his nobles, a stout 
 warrior, envied by him in some matter of thecommon- 
 wealth,^ as far as by the Latin of Ethelwerd can be 
 understood, (others interpret it sedition,) and with much 
 ado overcoming, took Ethelhun for his valour into fa- 
 vour, by whom faithfully served in the twelfth or thir- 
 teenth of his reign, he encountered in a set battle with 
 Ethelbald the Mercian at Beorford, now Burford in 
 O.vfordshire, 'one year after against the Welsh, which 
 was the last but one of his life. Huntingdon, as his 
 manner is to comment upon the annal text, makes a 
 terrible description of that fight between Cuthred and 
 Ethelbald, and the prowess of Ethelhun, at Beorford, 
 but so affectedly, and therefore suspiciously, that I 
 hold it not worth rehearsal ; and both in that and the 
 
 1 Post Christ. 740. m Post Christ. 741. Maliiisb. Sax. au. 
 
 n Post Christ. 743. Sim. Dun. 
 
 o Post Christ. 744. I loved. Malms. Sax. an. p Post Christ. 746. 
 
 q Post Clirist. 748. Sax. an. lltintinKd. r Post Christ. 750. 
 
 s lliiiitingd. Post Christ. 752. Caiml. t Post Christ. 753. 
 
 u Sax. au. Post Christ. 754. Waliiis. x Post Clirist. 755. 
 
 latter conflict gives victory to Guthred ; after whom 
 Sigebert," uncertain by what right, his kinsman, saith 
 Florent, stepped into the throne, whom, hated for his 
 cruelty and other evil doings, Kinwulf, joining with 
 most of the nobility, dispossessed of all but Hamshire; 
 that province he lost also within a year,* together with 
 the love of all those who till then remained his adhe- 
 rents, by slaying Cumbran, one of his chief captains, 
 who for a long time had faithfully served, and now dis- 
 suaded, him from incensing the people by such tyran- 
 nical practices. > Thence flying for safety into Andrew's 
 wood, forsaken of all, he was at length slain by the 
 swineherd of Cumbran in revenge of his master, and 
 Kinwulf, who had undoubted right to the crown, joy- 
 fully saluted king, z The next year Eadbert the Nor- 
 thumbrian, joining forces with Unust king of the Picts, 
 as Simeon writes, besieged and took by surrender the 
 city of Alcluith, now Dunbritton in Lennox, from the 
 Britons of Cumberland ; and ten days after," the whole 
 army perished about Niwanbirig, but to tell us how, he 
 fttrgets. In Mercia, Ethelbald was .slain at a place 
 called Secandune, now Seckington in Warwickshire, 
 the year following,'' in a bloody fi<rht against Cuthred, 
 as Huntingdon surmises, but Cuthred was dead two or 
 three years before ; others write him murdered in the 
 night by his own guard, and the treason, as some say, 
 of Beornred, who succeeded him ; but ere many months 
 was defeated and slain by Offa. Yet Ethelbald seems 
 not without cause, after a long and prosperous reign, 
 to have fallen by a violent death ; not shaming, on the 
 vain confidence of his many alms, to commit unclean- 
 ness with consecrated nuns, besides laic adulteries, as 
 the archbishop of Mentz in a letter taxes him and his 
 predecessor, and that by his example most of his peers 
 did the like; which adulterous doings he foretold him 
 were likely to produce a slothful offspring, good for 
 nothing but to be the ruin of that kingdom, as it fell 
 out not long after.*' The next year Osmund, accord- 
 ing to Florence, ruling the South-Saxons, and Swithred 
 the East, Eadbert in Northumberland, following the 
 steps of his predecessor, got him into a monk's hood ; 
 the more to be wondered, that having reigned worthily 
 twenty-one years,*' with the love and high estimation 
 of all, both at home and abroad, still able to govern, 
 and much entreated by the kings his neighbours, not 
 to lay down his charge ; with offer on that condition 
 to yield up to him part of their own dominion, he could 
 not be moved from his resolution, but relinquished his 
 regal office to Oswulf his son ; who at the year's end,® 
 though without just cause, was slain by his own ser- 
 vants. And the year after died Ethelbert, son of Vic- 
 tred, the second of that name in Kent. After Oswulf, 
 Ethelwald, otherwise called MoUo, was set up king; 
 who in his third year ^ had a great battle at Eldune, by 
 Melros, slew Oswin a great Lord, rebelling, and gain- 
 ed the victory. But the third year after b fell by the 
 treachery of Alcred, who assumed his place. '' The 
 
 y Huntingdon. z Post Christ. 756. Camd. a Camd. 
 
 t) Post Christ. 757. Sax. an, Epit. Bed. Sim. Dun. 
 
 c Post Christ. 75«. •! Sim. Dun. Errles. 1. 2. 
 
 e Post Christ. 759. f Post Christ. 762. Sim. Dun. Mat. West. 
 
 g Post Christ. 765. Sim. Dun. 
 
 h Post Christ. 769. 
 
S2» 
 
 THE HISTORY Of ENGLAND. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 fourth year after which, Cataracta an ancient and fair 
 city in Yorksliirc, was burnt by Arned a certain tyrant ; 
 who the same year came to like end. > And after five 
 years more, Alcred the kinjc, deposed and forsaken by 
 all his people, fled with a few, first to Bebba, a strong' 
 city of those parts, thence to Kinot, king' of the Picts. 
 Ethelred, the son of Mollo, was crowned in his stead. 
 Meanwhile Offa the Mercian, growing' powerful, had 
 subdued a neighbouring people by Simeon, called 
 Hastings ; and fought successfully this year with 
 Alric king of Kent, at a place called Occanford : the 
 annals also speak of wondrous serpents then seen in 
 Sussex. Nor had Kinwulf the West-Saxon given 
 small proof of his valour in several battles against the 
 Welsh heretofore ; but this year seven hundred and 
 seventy-five,'' meeting with Offa, at a place called Be- 
 sington, was put to the worse, and OflTa won the town 
 for which the}- contended. 'In Northumberland, Ethel- 
 red having' caused three of his nobles, Aldulf, Kinwulf, 
 and Ecca, treacherously to be slain by two other peers, 
 was himself the next j'ear driven into banishment, 
 Elfwald the son of Oswulf succeeding in his place, yet 
 not without civil broils; for in his second yearn* Os- 
 bald and Athelheard, two noblemen, raising forces 
 against him, routed Beame his general, and pursuing 
 burnt him at a place called Seletune. I am sensible 
 how wearisome it may likely be, to read of so many 
 bare and reasonless actions, so many names of kings 
 one after another, acting little more than mute persons 
 in a scene : what would it be to have inserted the long 
 bead-roll of archbishops, bishops, abbots, abbesses, 
 and their doings, neither to religion profitable, nor to 
 morality, swelling my authors each to a voluminous 
 body, by me studiously omitted ; and left as their pro- 
 priety, who have a mind to write the ecclesiastical 
 matters of those ages ? Neither do I care to wrinkle 
 the smoothness of history with rugged names of places 
 unknown, better harped at in Camden, and other cho- 
 rographers. » Six years therefore passed over in silence, 
 as wholly of such argument, bring us to relate next 
 the unfortunate end of Kinwulf the West-Saxon ; who 
 having laudably reigned about thirty-one years, yet 
 suspecting that Kineard, brother of Sigebert the former 
 king, intended to usurp the crown after his decease, or 
 revenge his brother's expulsion, had commanded him 
 into banishment:" but he lurking here and there on 
 the borders with a small company, having had intelli- 
 gence that Kinwulf was in the country thereabout, at 
 Merantun, or Merton in Surrey, at the house of a wo- 
 man whom he loved, went by night and beset the 
 place. Kinwulf, over confident either of his ro^'al pre- 
 sence, dt personal valour, issuing forth with a few 
 about him, runs fiercely at Kineard, and wounds him 
 sore ; but by his followers hemmed in, is killed among 
 them. The report of so great an accideiit soon running 
 to a place not far oflT, where many more attendants 
 awaited the king's return, Osric and Wifert, two earls, 
 basted with a great number to the house, where Kine- 
 
 \ n*** ri"'!*'- 1^*- ■"'''"• 0<">- •< Post Christ. 775, Sax. an. 
 
 ' *\S** *,*?,""• *7«- Sim. Dun. m Post Christ. 7Hi). Sim. Uun. 
 
 n £•»« ClTist. 7H6. Klhrlwerd. Malms. o Sax. an. Caind. 
 
 p Po»» Chrttt. 788. Sim. Dun. Malm*. q Caiiid. 
 
 ard and his fellows yet remained. He seeing himself 
 surrounded, with fair words and promises of great gifts 
 attempted to appease them ; but those rejected with 
 disdain, fights it out to the la.st, and is slain with all 
 but one or two of his retinue, which were nigh a hun- 
 dred. Kinwulf was succeeded by Birthric, being both 
 descended of Kerdic the founder of that kingdom. p 
 Not better was the end of Elfwald in Northumber- 
 land, two years after slain miserably by the con- 
 spiracy of Siggan, one of his nobles, others say of 
 the whole people at Scilcester by the Roman wall ; 
 yet undeservedly, as his sepulchre at Hagustald, now 
 Hexam upon Tine, and some miracles there said to 
 be done,i are alleged to witness, and Siggan five years 
 after laid violent hands on himself"" Osred son of 
 Alcred advanced into the room of Elfwald, and within 
 one year driven out, left his seat vacant to Ethelred 
 son of Mollo, who after ten years of banishments 
 (imprisonment, saith Alcuin) had the sceptre put again 
 into his hand. The third year of Birthric king of 
 West-Saxons, gave beginning from abroad to a new 
 and fatal revolution of calamity on this Jand. For 
 three Danish ships, the first that had been seen 
 here of that nation, arriving in the west ; to visit these, 
 as was supposed, foreign merchants, the king's ga- 
 therer of customs taking horse from Dorchester, found 
 them spies and enemies. For being commanded to 
 come and give account of their lading at the king's 
 custom house, they slew him, and all that came with 
 him ; as an earnest of the many slaughters, rapines, 
 and hostilities, which they returned not long after to 
 commit over all the island. ^Of this Danish first 
 arrival, and on a sudden worse than hostile aggression, 
 the Danish history far otherwise relates, as if their 
 landing had been at the mouth of Ilumber, and their 
 spoil ful march far into the country; though soon re- 
 pelled by the inhabitants, they hasted back as fast to 
 their ships: but from what cause, what reason of state, 
 what authority or public council the invasion proceed- 
 ed, makes not mention, and our wonder yet the more, 
 by telling us that Sigefrid then king in Denmark, and 
 long after, was a man studious more of peace and quiet 
 than of warlike matters. " These therefore seem rather 
 to have been some wanderers at sea, who with public 
 commission, or without, through love of spoil, or hatred 
 of Christianity, seeking booties on any land of Chris- 
 tians, came by chance, or weather, on this shore. "The 
 next year Osred in Northumberland, who driven out 
 by his nobles had given place to Ethelred, was taken, 
 and forcibly shaven a monk at York. ^And the year 
 after, Oelf, and Oelfwin, sons of Elfwald, formerly 
 king, were drawn by fair promises from the principal 
 church of York, and after by command of Ethelred 
 cruelly put to death at Wonwaldreniere,^ a village by 
 the great pool in Lancashire, now called Winander- 
 mere. * Nor was the third year less bloody ; for Osred, 
 who, not liking a shaven crown, had desired banish- 
 ment and obtained it, returning from the Isle of Man 
 
 r Malms. s Sim. Dun. Post Christ. 7R9. t Pontan. 1. 3. 
 
 u Ibid. I. 4. X Sim. Dud. Post Christ. 790. 
 
 y Post ChriM. 791. Sim. Pun. a Canid. 
 
 a Post Christ. 792. Sim. Dun. Ecclet. I. 2. 
 
Book IV. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 527 
 
 with small forces, at the secret but deceitful call of 
 certain nobles, who by oath had promised to assist him, 
 were also taken, and by Ethelred dealt with in the 
 same manner : who, the better to avouch his cruelties, 
 thereupon married Elfled the daughter of Offa; for in 
 Offa was found as little faith or mercy. He the same 
 year, having' drawn to his palace Ethelbrite king of 
 East-Angles, with fair invitations to marry his daugh- 
 ter, caused him to be there inhospitably beheaded, and 
 his kingdom wrongfully seized, by the wicked counsel 
 of his wife,saith Mat. VVestm. annexing thereto along 
 unlikely tale. For which violence and bloodshed to 
 make atonement, with friars at least, he bestows the 
 relics of St. Alban in a shrine of pearl and gold. ''Far 
 worse it fared the next year with the relics in Lindis- 
 farne; where the Danes landing pillaged that monas- 
 tery ; and of friars killed some, carried away others 
 captive, sparing neither priest nor lay : which many 
 strange thunders and fiery dragons, with other impres- 
 sions in the air seen frequently before, were judged to 
 foresignify. This year Alric third son of Victred ended 
 in Kent his long reign of thirty-four years ; with him 
 ended the race of Hengist: thenceforth whomsoever 
 wealth or faction advanced took on him the name and 
 state of a king. The Saxon annals of seven hundred 
 and eighty-four name Ealmund then reigning in 
 Kent; but that consists not with the time t)f Alric, and 
 I find him no where else mentioned. The year fol- 
 lowing'^ was remarkable for the death of OflTa the Mer- 
 cian, a strenuous and subtile king; he had much in- 
 tercourse with Charles the Great, at first enmity, to the 
 interdicting of commerce on either side, at length 
 much amity and firm league, as appears by the letter 
 of Charles himself yet extant, procured by Alcuin a 
 learned and prudent man, though a monk, whom the 
 kings of England in those days had sent orator into 
 France, to maintain good correspondence between them 
 and Charles the Great. He granted, saith Hunting- 
 don, a perpetual tribute to the pope out of every bouse 
 in his kingdom,*' for yielding periiaps to translate the 
 primacy of Canterbury to Litchfield in his own do- 
 minion. He drew a trench of wondrous length be- 
 tween Mercia and the British confines from sea to sea. 
 Ecferth the son of Offa, a prince of great hope, who 
 also had been crowned nine years before his father's 
 decease, restoring to the church what his father had 
 seized on, yet within four months by a sickness ended 
 his reign ; and to Kenulf, next in the right of the same 
 progeny, bequeathed his kingdom. Meanwhile the 
 Danish pirates, who still wasted Northumberland, 
 venturing on shore to spoil another monastery at the 
 mouth of the river Don, were assailed by the English, 
 their chief captain slain on the place ; then returning 
 to sea, were most of them shipwrecked ; others driven 
 again on shore, were put all to the sword. Simeon 
 attributes this their punishment to the power of St. 
 CudbertjOflTended with them for the rifling his convent. 
 'Two years after this died Ethelred, twice king, but 
 not exempted at last from the fate of many of his pre- 
 
 b Post Christ. 793. Sim. Dun. 
 d Asser. Men. Sim. Dun. 
 
 c Post Christ. 794. Malms. 
 c Post Christ. 796. Sim. Dun. 
 
 decessors, miserably slain by his people, some say de- 
 servedly, as not incoiiscious with them who trained 
 Osred to his ruin. Osbald a nobleman exalted to the 
 throne, and, in less than a month, deserted and expel- 
 led, was forced to fly from Lindisfarne by sea to the 
 Pictish king, and died an abbot. Eadhulf, whom 
 Ethelred six years before had commanded to be put to 
 death at Rippon, before the abbey-gate, dead as was 
 supposed, and with solemn dirge carried into the church, 
 after midnight found there alive, I read not how, then 
 banished, now recalled, was in York created king. In 
 Kent Ethclbert or Pren, whom the annals call Ead- 
 bright, (so diflferent they often are one from another, 
 both in timing and in naming,) by some means having 
 usurped regal power, after two years reign contending 
 with Kenulf the Mercian, was by him taken prisoner, 
 and soon after out of pious commiseration let go : but 
 not received of his own, what became of him Malms- 
 bury leaves in doubt. Simeon writes, that Kenulf com- 
 manded to put out his eyes, and lop ofl* his hands ; but 
 whether the sentence were executed or not, is left as 
 much in doubt by his want of expression. The second 
 year after this, they in Northumberland, who had con- 
 spired against Ethelred,f now also raising war against 
 Eardulf, under Wada their chief captain, after much 
 havoc on either side at Langho, by Whaley in Lanca- 
 shire, the conspirators at last fleeing, Eardulf returned 
 with victory. The same year London, with a great multi- 
 tude of her inhabitants, by a sudden fire was consumed. 
 The year eight hundred « made way for great alteration 
 in England, uniting her seven kingdoms into one, by 
 Ecbert the famous West-Saxon ; him Birthrick dying 
 childless left next to reign, the only survivor of that 
 lineage, descended from Inegild the brother of king Ina. 
 ♦"And according to his birth liberally bred, he began 
 early from his youth to give signal hopes of more than 
 ordinary worth growing up in him ; which Birthric 
 fearing, and withal his juster title to the crown, secretly 
 sought his life, and Ecbert perceiving, fled to Offa, the 
 Mercian : but he having married Eadburgh his daugh- 
 ter to Birthric, easily gave ear to his embassadors 
 coming to require Ecbert : ' he, again put to his shifts, 
 escaped thence into France ; but after three years' 
 banishment there, which perhaps contributed much to 
 his education, Charles the Great then reigning, he was 
 called over by the public voice, (for Birthric was newly 
 dead,) and with general applause created king of West- 
 Saxons. The same day Ethelmund at Kinnersford 
 passing over with the Worcestershire men, was met by 
 Weolstan another nobleman with those of Wiltshire, 
 between whom happened a great fray, wherein the 
 Wiltshire men overcame, but both dukes werp slain, no 
 reason of their quarrel written ; such bickerings to re- 
 count, met often in these our writers, what more worth 
 is it than to chronicle the wars of kites or crows, flock- 
 ing and fighting in the air ? ^ The year following, Ear- 
 dulf the Northumbrian leading forth an army against 
 Kenwulf the Mercian for harbouring certain of his 
 enemies, by the diligent mediation of other princes and 
 
 f Post Christ. 798. Sim. Dun. 
 b Matms. i Sax. an. 
 
 ? Post Christ. 800. 
 k Post Christ. 801. Sim. Dun. 
 
&a» 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 prelates, arms were laid aside, and amity soon sworn 
 between tbcm. ' But Eadburga, the wife of Birtiiric, 
 a woman every wa}' wicked, in malice especially cruel, 
 could not or cared not to appease the general hatred 
 justly conceived ag'ainst her ; accustomed in her hus- 
 band's day, to accuse any whom she spighted;*" and 
 not prevailing to his ruin, her practice was by poison 
 secretly to contrive his death. It fortuned, that the 
 king her husband, lighting on a cup which she had 
 tempered, not for him, but for one of his great favour- 
 ites, whom she could not harm by accusing, sipped 
 thereof only, and in a while after, still pining away, 
 ended his days ; the favourite, drinking deeper, found 
 speedier the operation. She, fearing to be questioned 
 for these facts, with what treasure she had, passed over 
 sea to Charles the Great, whom, with rich gifts coming 
 to his presence, the emperor courtly received with this 
 pleasant proposal : " Choose, Eadburga, which of us 
 two thou wilt, me or my son," (for his son stood by him,) 
 " to be thy husband." She, no dissembler of what she 
 liked best, made easy answer : " Were it iu my choice, 
 I should choose of the two your son rather, as the 
 younger man." To whom the emperor, between jest 
 and earnest, " Hadst thou chosen me, I bad bestowed 
 on thee my son ; but since thou hast chosen him, thou 
 shalt have neither him nor me." Nevertheless he as- 
 signed her a rich monastery to dwell in as abbess ; 
 for that life it may seem she chose next to profess : but 
 being a while after detected of unchastity with one of 
 her followers, she was commanded to depart thence: 
 from that time wandering poorly up and down with 
 one servant, in Pavia a city of Italy, she finished at 
 last in beggary her shameful life. In the year eight 
 hundred and five" Cuthred,whom Kenulf the Mercian 
 bad, instead of Pren, made king iu Kent, having ob- 
 scurely reigned eight years, deceased. In Northum- 
 berland, Eardulf the year following was driven out of 
 bis realm by Alfwold," who reigned two yeare in his 
 room ; after whom Eandred son of Eardulf thirty-three 
 years ; but I see not how this can stand with the sequel 
 of story out of better authors : much less that which 
 Buchanan relates, the year following,? of Achaius king 
 of Scots, who having reigned thiity-two years, and 
 dying in eight hundred and nine,l had formerly aided 
 (but in what year of his reign tells not) Hungus king 
 of Picts with ten thousand Scots, against Athelstan a 
 Saxon or Englishman, then wasting the Pictish bor- 
 ders ; that Hungus by the aid of those Scots, and the 
 help of St. Andrew their patron, in a vision by night, 
 and the appearance of his cross by day, routed the 
 astonished English, and slew Athelstan in fight. Who 
 this Athelstan was, I believe no man knows ; Buchanan 
 supposes him to have been some Danish commander, 
 on whom king Alured or Alfred had bestowed Northum- 
 berland ; but of this I find no footstep in our ancient 
 writers ; and if any such thing were done in the time 
 of Alfred, it must be little less than a hundred years 
 after: this Athelstan therefore, and this great over- 
 throw, seems rather to have been the fancy of some 
 
 ' n"'"*;-.'- «• A»»er. m Post Chmt. 802. Sim. Dun. 
 
 n PnM Christ. 80S. Malms. Sax. »n. o Host Christ. 806. Huntinxl. 
 
 Slni. Duu. p Post Christ. 808. Mat. West q Post Christ. 8W. 
 
 legend than any warrantable record. 'Meanwhile 
 Ecbert having with much prudence, justice, and cle- 
 mency, a work of more than one year, established his 
 kingdom and himself in the aflTcctions of his people, 
 turns his first enterprise against the Britons, both them 
 of Cornwall and those beyond Severn, subduing both. 
 In McrciauKdenulf,the sixth year after,» having reigned 
 with great-praise of his religious mind and virtues both 
 in peace and ' t, deceased. His son Kenelni, a child 
 of seven years, was committed to the care of his elder 
 sister Quendrid : who, with a female ambition aspiring 
 to the crown, hired one who had the charge of his 
 nurture to murder him, led into a woody place upon 
 pretence of hunting. * The murder, as is reported, 
 was miraculously revealed ; but to tell how, by a dove 
 dropping a written note on the altar at Rome, is a long 
 story, told, though out of order, by Malmsbury, and 
 under the year eight hundred and twenty-one by Mat. 
 West., where I leave it to be sought by such as are 
 more credulous than I wish my readers. Only the note 
 was to this purpose : 
 
 Low in a mead of kine under a thorn. 
 
 Of head bereft, lieth poor Kenelm kingbom. 
 
 Keolwulf, the brother of Kenulf, after one year's reign, 
 was driven out by one Bernulf an usurper;" who in 
 his third year,* uncertain whether invading or invaded, 
 was by Ecbert, though with great loss on both sides, 
 overthrown and put to flight at Ellaudune or Wilton : 
 vet Malmsbury accounts this battle fought in eight 
 hundred and six ; a wide difference, but frequently 
 found in their computations. Bernulf thence retiring 
 to the East-Angles, as part of his dominion by the late 
 seizure of Offa, was by them met in the field and slain : 
 but they, doubting what the Mercians might do in re- 
 venge hereof, forthwith yielded themselves both king 
 and people to the sovereignty of Ecbert. As for the 
 kings of East-Angles, our annals mention them not 
 since Ethel wald ; him succeeded his brother's sons,' as 
 we find in Malmsbury, Aldulf (a good king, well ac- 
 quainted with Bede) and Elwold who left the kingdom 
 to Beorn,he to Ethelred the father of Ethelbrite, whom 
 Offa perfidiously put to death. Simeon and Hoveden, 
 in the year seven hundred and forty-nine, write that 
 Elfwald king of East-Angles dying, Humbeanna and 
 Albert shared the kingdom between them ; but where 
 to insert this among the former successions is not easy, 
 nor much material : after Ethelbrite, none is named of 
 that kingdom till their submitting now to Ecbert : he 
 from this victory against Bernulf sent part of his army 
 under Ethclwulf his son, with Alstan bishop of Shir- 
 burn, and Wulferd a chief commander, into Kent. Who, 
 finding Baldred there reigning in his eighteenth year, 
 overcame and drove him over the Thames ; whereupon 
 all Kent, Surrey, Sussex, and lastly Essex, with her 
 kinty Swithred, became subject to the dominion of Ec- 
 bert. Neither were these all his exploits of this year; 
 the first in order set down in Saxon annals being his 
 fight against the Devonshire Welsh, at a place called 
 
 r Sim. Don. Post Christ 813. Sax. an. 
 t Malms. u Post Christ. 820. Iniulf. 
 y Florent. Gentalog. Bed. I. S. c. 15. 
 
 8 Post Christ. 819. Sax. an. 
 X Pobt Christ. 8'.>3. Sax. an. 
 
Book V. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 529 
 
 Gafulford, now Camelford in Cornwall. 'Ludiken the 
 Mercian, after two years preparing' to avenge Bemulf 
 his kinsman on the East- Angles, was by them with his 
 five consuls, as the annals call them, surprised and put 
 to the sword : and Withlaf his successor first vanquished, 
 then upon submission, with all Mercia, made tributary 
 to Ecbert. Meanwhile the Northumbrian kingdom of 
 itself was fallen to shivers ; their kings one after another 
 so often slain by the people, no man v 'nng, though 
 never so ambitious, to take up the sceptre, which many 
 had found so hot, (the only effectual cure of ambition 
 that I have read,) for the space of thirty-three years 
 after the death of Ethelred son of Mollo,as Malmsbury 
 writes, there was no king : many noblemen and pre- 
 lates were fled the country. Wiiich misrule among 
 them the Danes having understood, ofttimes from their 
 ships entering' far into the land, infested those parts 
 with wide depopulation, wasting towns, churches, and 
 monasteries, for they were yet heathen : the Lent be- 
 fore whose coming, on the north side of St. Peter's 
 church in York was seen from the roof to rain blood. 
 The causes of these calamities, and the ruin of that 
 kingdom, Alcuin, a learned monk living in those days, 
 attributes in several epistles, and well may, to the gene- 
 ral ignorance and decay of learning, which crept in 
 among them after the death of Bcda, and of Ecbert the 
 archbishop ; their neglect of breeding' up youth in the 
 Scriptures, the spruce and gay apparel of their priests 
 and nuns, discovering their vain and wanton minds. 
 Examples are also read, even in Beda's days, of their 
 wanton deeds: thence altars defiled with perjuries, 
 cloisters violated with adulteries, the land polluted with 
 the blood of their princes, civil dissensions among the 
 people ; and finally, all the same vices which Gildas 
 alleged of old to have ruined the Britons. In this es- 
 tate Ecbert, who had now conquered all the south, 
 finding them iu the year eight hundred and twenty- 
 seven,'" (for he was marched thither with an army to 
 complete his conquest of the whole island,) no wonder 
 if they submitted themselves to the yoke without re- 
 sistance, Eandred their king becoming tributary, 
 n Thence turning his forces the year following he sub- 
 dued more thoroughly what remained of North- Wales. 
 
 THE FIFTH BOOK. 
 
 The sum of things in this island, or the best part 
 thereof, reduced now under the power of one man, 
 and him one of the worthiest, which, as far as can be 
 found in good authors, was by none attained at any 
 time here before, unless in fables ; men might with 
 some reason have expected from such union, peace and 
 plenty, greatness, and the flourishing of all estates and 
 degrees : but far the contrary fell out soon after, inva- 
 sion, spoil, desolation, slaughter of many, slavery of 
 the rest, by the forcible landing of a fierce nation; 
 
 z Canideu. Post Christ. 823. Ingulf, 
 n Post Christ. 828. Mat. West. 
 
 m Post Christ. 827. 
 a Calvisius. 
 
 Danes commonly called, and sometimes Dacians by 
 others, the same with Normans ; as barbarous as the 
 Saxons themselves were at first reputed, and much 
 more : for the Saxons first invited came hither to dwell ; 
 these unsent for, unprovoked, came only to destroy. a 
 But if the Saxons, as is above related, came most of 
 them from Jutland and Anglen, a part of Denmark, 
 as Danish writers affirm, and that Danes and Normans 
 are the same ; then in this invasion, Danes drove out 
 Danes, their own posterity. And Normans afterwards 
 none but ancienter Normans.'> Which invasion per- 
 haps, had the heptarchy stood divided as it was, had 
 either not been attempted, or not uneasily resisted ; 
 while each prince and people, excited by their nearest 
 concernments, had more industriously defended their 
 own bounds, than depending on the neglect of a de- 
 puted governour,sent ofttimes from the remote residence 
 of a secure monarch. Though as it fell out in those 
 troubles, the lesser kingdoms revolting from the West- 
 Saxon yoke, and not aiding each other, too much con- 
 cerned for their own safety, it came to no better pass ; 
 while severally they sought to repel the danger nigh 
 at hand, rather than jointly to prevent it far off". But 
 when God hath decreed servitude on a sinful nation, 
 fitted by their own vices for no condition but servile, 
 all estates of government are alike unable to avoid it. 
 God hath purposed to punish our instrumental punish- 
 ers, though now christians, by other heathen, accord- 
 ing to his divine retaliation ; invasion for invasion, 
 spoil for spoil, destruction for destruction. The Saxons 
 were now full as wicked as the Britons were at their 
 arrival, broken with luxury and sloth, either secular or 
 superstitious ; for laying aside the exercise of arms, and 
 the study of all virtuous knowledge, .some betook them 
 to overworldly or vicious practice, others to religious 
 idleness and solitude, which brought forth nothing but 
 vain and delusive visions ; easily perceived such by 
 their commauding of things, either not belonging to 
 the gospel, or utterly forbidden, ceremonies, relics, 
 monasteries, masses, idols ; add to these ostentation of 
 alms, got ofttimes by rapine and oppression, or inter- 
 mixed with violent and lustful deeds, sometimes pro- 
 digally bestowed as the expiation of cruelty and blood- 
 shed. What longer suflTering could there be, when 
 religion itself grew so void of sincerity, and the greatest 
 shows of purity were impured .'* 
 
 ECBERT. 
 
 Ecbert in full height of glory, having now enjoyed 
 his conquest seven peaceful years, his victorious army 
 long since disbanded, and the exercise of arms perhaps 
 laid aside ; the more was found unprovided against a 
 sudden storm of Danes from the sea, who landing in 
 the «= thirty-second of his reign, wasted Shepey in Kent. 
 Ecbert the next year,*! gathering an army, for he had 
 heard of their arrival iu thirty-five ships, gave them 
 battle by the river Carr in Dorsetshire ; the event 
 whereof was, that the Danes kept their ground, and 
 
 b Pontan. ITist. Dan. c Post Christ. 832. Sax. annal. 
 
 d Post Christ. a33. Sax. an. 
 
630 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book V. 
 
 encamped where the field was fought ; two Saxon 
 leaders, Dudda and Osmund, and two bishops, as some 
 say, were there slain. This was the only check of for- 
 tune we read of, that Ecbert in all his time received. 
 For the Danes returning* two years' afler with a great 
 nary, and joining forces with the Cornish, who had 
 entered league with them, were overthrown and put to 
 flight. Of these invasions against Ecbert the Danish 
 history is not silent; whether out of their own records 
 or ours may be justly doubted : for of these times at 
 home I (Ind them in much uncertainty, and beholden 
 rather to outlandish chronicles, than any records of 
 their own. The victor Ecbert, as one who had done 
 enough, seasonably now, after prosperous success, tlie 
 next ^ year with glory ended bis days, and was buried 
 at Winchester. 
 
 ETHELWOLF. 
 
 Ethelwolf the son of Ecbert succeeded, by Malms- 
 bury described a man of mild nature, not inclined to 
 war, or delighted with much dominion; that therefore 
 contented with tiie ancient West-Saxon bounds, he 
 gave to Ethelstan his brother, or son, as some write, 
 the kingdom of Kent and Essex, s But the Saxon an- 
 nalist, whose authority is elder, saith plainly, that both 
 these countries and Sussex were bequeathed to Ethel- 
 stan by Ecbert his father. The unwarlike disposition 
 of Ethelwolf gave encouragement no doubt, and easier 
 entrance to the Danes, who came again the next year 
 with thirty-three ships ; ^ but Wulfherd, one of the 
 king's chief captains, drove them back at Southamp- 
 ton with great slaughter ; himself dying the same year, 
 of age, as I suppose, for he seems to have been one of 
 Ecbert's old commanders, who was sent with Ethelwolf 
 to subdue Kent. Ethelhelm, another of the king's cap- 
 tains, with the Dorsetshire men, bad at first like suc- 
 cess against the Danes at Portsmouth ; but they rein- 
 forcing stood their ground, and put the English to 
 rout. Worse was the success of earl Herebert at a place 
 called Mereswar, slain with the most part of his army. 
 ' The year following in Lindsey also, East-Angles, and 
 Kent, much mischief was done by their landing;'' 
 where the next year, emboldened by success, they came 
 on as far as Canterbury, Rochester, and London itself, 
 with no less cruel hostility : and giving no respite to 
 the peaceable mind of Ethelwolf, they yet returned 
 with the next year' in thirty-five ships, fought with 
 him, as before with his father at the river Carr, and 
 made good their ground. In Northumberland, Ean- 
 dred the tributary king deceasing left the same tenure 
 to his son Etheldred, driven out in his fourth year," 
 and succeeded by Readwulf, who soon after his coro- 
 nation hasting forth to battle against the Danes at 
 Alvetheli, fell with the most part of his army; and 
 Ethelred, like in fortune to the former Ethclred, was 
 rcexalted to his seat. And, to be yet further like him in 
 fate, w as slain the fourth year after. Osbert succeeded 
 in his room. But more southerly, the Danes next year" 
 
 after met with some stop in the full course of their out- 
 rageous insolcncies. For Earnulf with the men of 
 Somerset, Alstan the bishop, and Osric with those of 
 Dorsetshire, setting upon them at the river's mouth of 
 Pedridan, slaughtered them in great numbers, and ob- 
 tained a just victory. This repulse quelled them, for 
 aught we hear, the space of six years;" then also re- 
 newing their invasion with little better success. For 
 Keorle an earl, aided with the forces of Devonshire, 
 assaulted and overthrew them at Wigganbeorch with 
 great destruction ; as prosperously were they fought 
 the same year at Sandwich, by king Ethelstan, and 
 Ealker his general, their great army defeated, and nine 
 of their ships taken, the rest driven off; however to ride 
 out tlie winter on that shore, Asser saith, they then 
 first wintered in Shepey isle. Hard it is, through the 
 bad expression of these writers, to define this fight, 
 whether by sea or land ; Hoveden terms it a sea-fight. 
 Nevertheless with fifty ships (Asser and others add 
 three hundred) they entered the mouth of the Thames,? 
 and made excursions as far as Canterbury and London, 
 and as Ethelwerd writes, destroyed both ; of London, 
 Asser signifies only that they pillaged it. Bertulf also 
 the Mercian, successor of Withlaf, with all his army 
 they forced to fly, and him beyond the sea. Then pass- 
 ing over Thames with their powers into Surrey, and the 
 West-Saxons, and meeting there with king Ethelwolf 
 and Ethelbald his son, at a place called Ak-Lea, or 
 Oke-Lea, they received a total defeat with memorable 
 slaughter. This was counted a lucky yeari to Eng- 
 land, and brought to Ethelwolf great reputation. Bur- 
 bed therefore, who after Bertulf held of him the Mer- 
 cian kingdom, two years after this, imploring his aid 
 against the North Welsh, as then troublesome to his 
 confines, obtained it of him in person, and thereby re- 
 duced them to obedience. This done, Ethelwolf sent 
 his son Alfred, a child of five years, well accompanied 
 to Rome, whom Leo the pope both consecrated to be 
 king afterwards, and adopted to be his son ; at home 
 Ealker with tlie forces of Kent, and Huda with those 
 of Surrey, fell on the Danes at their landing in Tanet, 
 and at first put them back ; but the slain and drowned 
 were at length so many on either side, as left the loss 
 equal on both : which yet hindered not the solemnity of 
 a marriage at the feast of Easter, between Burhed the 
 Mercian, and Ethelswida king EthelwolPs daughter. 
 Howbeitthe Danes next year "^ wintered again in Shepey. 
 Whom Ethelwolf, not finding human health sufficient 
 to resist, growing daily upon him, in hope of divine 
 aid, registered in a book and dedicated to God the 
 tenth part of his own lands, and of his whole kingdom, 
 eased of all impositions, but converted to the main- 
 tenance of masses and psalms weekly to be sung for 
 the prospering of Ethelwolf and his captains, as it ap- 
 pears at large by the patent itself, in William of 
 Malmsbury. Asser saith, he did it for the redemption 
 of his soul, and the souls of his ancestors. After which, 
 as having done some great matter to shew himself at 
 
 1 Po«t Christ. 840. Sax. an. Sim. Dun. Mat. WmI. 
 
 m Post Chri*L H44. n Pust Christ. B4S. Sa>. an. 
 
 o Post Christ. 851. .Sax. an. Au«r. p llunlinftd. Mat. West. 
 
 q Post Christ. ai% S»%. an. Asser. r Malms. Post Christ. 8M. Sax. ao. 
 
Book V. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 531 
 
 Rome, and be applauded of the pope ; he takes a long 
 and cumbersome journey thither with young Alfred 
 again, s and there stays a year, when his place required 
 him rather here in the field against pagan enemies 
 left wintering in his land. Yet so much manhood he 
 had, as to return thence no monk ; and in his way 
 home took to wife Judith daughter to Charles the Bald, 
 king of France.' But ere his return, Ethelbald his 
 eldest son, Alstan his trusty bishop, and Enulf earl of 
 Somerset conspired against him : their complaints 
 were, that he had taken with him Alfred his youngest 
 son to be there inaugurated king, and brought home 
 with him an outlandish wife; for which they endea- 
 voured to deprive him of his kingdom. The disturb- 
 ance was expected to bring forth nothing less than 
 war: but the king abhorring civil discord, after many 
 conferences tending to peace, condescended to divide 
 the kingdom with his son : division was made, but the 
 matter so carried, that the eastern and worst part was 
 malignly afforded to the father ; the western and best 
 given to the son : at which many of the nobles had 
 great indignation, offering to the king their utmost as- 
 sistance for the recovery of all ; whom he peacefully 
 dissuading, sat down contented with his portion as- 
 signed. In the East-Angles, Edmund lineal from the 
 ancient stock of those kings, a youth of fourteen years 
 only, but of great hopes, was with consent of all but his 
 own crowned at Bury. About this time, as Buchanan 
 relates," the Picts, who not long before had by the 
 Scots been driven out of their country, part of them 
 coming to Osbert and Ella, then kings of Northumber- 
 land, obtained aid against Donaldus the Scottish king, 
 to recover their ancient possession. Osbert, who in 
 person undertook the expedition, marching into Scot- 
 land, was at first put to a retreat; but returning soon 
 after on the Scots, oversecure of their supposed victory, 
 put them to flight with great slaughter, took prisoner 
 their king, and pursued his victory beyond Stirling 
 bridge. The Scots unable to resist longer, and by em- 
 bassadoi-s entreating peace, had it granted them on 
 these conditions : the Scots were to quit all they had 
 possessed within the wall of Severus : the limits of 
 Scotland were beneath Stirling bridge to be the river 
 Forth, and on the other side, Dunbritton Frith ; from 
 that time so called of the British then seated in Cum- 
 berland, who had joined with Osbert in this action, 
 and so far extended on that side the British limits. If 
 this be true, as the Scots writers themselves witness, 
 (and who would think them fabulous to the disparage- 
 ment of their own country i") how much wanting have 
 been our historians to their country's honour, in letting 
 pass unmentioned an exploit so memorable, by them 
 remembered and attested, who are wont oftener to ex- 
 tenuate than to amplify aught done in Scotland by 
 the English ; Donaldus, on these conditions released, 
 soon after dies, according to Buchanan, in 858. Ethel- 
 wolf, chief king in England, had the year before ended 
 his life, and was buried as his father at Winchester.'' 
 He was from his youth much addicted to devotion ; so 
 
 s Post Christ. 855. Asser. t Asser. u Post Christ. 857. 
 
 X Mat. West. y Malms. Suitliine. 
 
 2m 
 
 that in his father's time he was ordained bishop of 
 Winchester; and unwillingly, for want of other legi- 
 timate issue, succeeded him in the throne ; managing 
 therefore his greatest affairs by the activity of two 
 bishops, Alstan of Sherburne, and Swithine of Win- 
 chester. But Alstan is noted of covetousness and op- 
 pression, by William of Malmsbury ;y the more vehe- 
 mently no doubt for doing some notable damage to 
 that monastery. The same author writes,* that Ethel- 
 wolf at Rome paid a tribute to the pope, continued to 
 his days. However he were facile to his son, and se- 
 ditious nobles, in yielding up part of his kingdom, yet 
 his queen he treated not the less honourably, for whom- 
 soever it displeased. "The West-Saxons had decreed 
 ever since the time of Eadburga, the infamous wife of 
 Birthric, that no queen should sit in state with the 
 king, or be dignified with the title of queen. But 
 Ethelwolf permitted not that Judith his queen should 
 lose any point of regal state by that law. At his death 
 he divided the kingdom between his two sons, Ethel- 
 bald and Ethelbert; to the younger Kent, Essex, 
 Surrey, Sussex, to the elder all the rest ; to Peter and 
 Paul certain revenues yearly, for what uses let others 
 relate, who write also his pedigree, from son to father, 
 up to Adam. 
 
 ETHELBALD and ETHELBERT. 
 
 Ethelbald, unnatural and disloyal to his father,^ 
 fell justly into another, though contrary sin, of too 
 much love for his father's wife ; and whom at first he 
 opposed coming into the land, her now unlawfully 
 marrying, he takes into his bed ; but not long enjoy- 
 ing died at three years end,*= without doing aught 
 more worthy to be remembered ; having reigned 
 two years with his father, impiously usurping, and 
 three after him, as unworthily inheriting. And his 
 hap was all that while to be unmolested with the 
 Danes ; not of divine favour doubtless, but to his 
 greater condemnation, living the more securely his 
 incestuous life. Huntingdon on the other side much 
 praises Ethelbald, and writes him buried at Sher- 
 burn, with great sorrow of the people, who missed 
 him long after. Mat. Westm. saith, that he repent- 
 ed of bis incest with Judith, and dismissed her : but 
 Asser, an eyewitness of those times, mentions no such 
 thing. 
 
 ETHELBERT alone. 
 
 Ethelbald by death removed, the whole kingdom 
 came rightly to Ethelbert his next brother. Who, 
 though a prince of great virtue and no blame, had as 
 short a reign allotted him as his faulty brother, nor that 
 so peaceful ; once or twice invaded by the Danes. But 
 they having landed in the west with a great army, and 
 sacked Winchester, were met by Osric earl of South- 
 ampton, and Ethelwolf of Berkshire, beaten to their 
 ships, and forced to leave their booty. Five years 
 
 z Sigon. de regti. Ital. I. 5. 
 Sim. Duu. 
 
 a Asser. b Asser. Malms, 
 
 c Post Christ. 800. Sax. an. 
 
532 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book V. 
 
 aAer,'^ about the time of his death, they set foot again 
 in Tanet ; the Kentishmen, wearied out with so fre- 
 quent alarms, came to agreement with them for a cer- 
 tain sum of money; but ere the peace could be ratified, 
 and the money gathered, the Danes, impatient of de- 
 lay, by a sudden eruption in the night soon wasted all 
 the East of Kent. Meanwhile, or something before, 
 Ethelbert deceasing was buried as his brother at Sher- 
 burn. 
 
 ETHELRED 
 
 Ethelred, the third son of Ethelwolf, at his first 
 coming to the crown was entertained with a fresh in- 
 vasion of Danes," led by Hinguar and Hubba, two 
 brothers, who now had got footing among the East- 
 Angles ; there they wintered, and coming to terms of 
 peace with the inhabitants, furnished themselves of 
 horses, forming by that means many troops with riders 
 of their own : these pagans, Asser saith, came from the 
 river Danubius. Fitted thus for a long expedition, 
 they ventured the next year* to make their way over 
 land and over Humber as far as York : them they 
 found to their hands embroiled in civil dissensions ; 
 their king Osbert they bad thrown out, and Ella leader 
 of another faction chosen in his room ; who both, 
 though late, admonished by their common danger, 
 towards the year's end with united powers made head 
 against the Danes and prevailed ; but pursuing them 
 overeagerly into York, then but slenderly walled,? the 
 Northumbrians were every where slaughtered, both 
 within and without ; their kings also both slain, their 
 city burnt, saith Malmsbury, the rest as they could 
 made their peace, overrun and vanquished as far as the 
 river Tine, and Egbert of English race appointed king 
 over them. Bromton, no ancient author, (for he wrote 
 since Mat. West.) nor of much credit, writes a particu- 
 lar cause of the Danes coming to York ; that Bruern a 
 nobleman, whose wife king Osbert had ravished, called 
 in Hinguar and Hubba to revenge him. The example 
 is remarkable, if the truth were as evident. Thence 
 victorious, the Danes next year •" entered into Mercia 
 towards Nottingham, where they spent the winter. 
 Burhed then king of that country, unable to resist, 
 implores the aid of Ethelred and young Alfred his 
 brother; they assembling their forces and joining with 
 the Mercians about Nottingham, offer battle : ' the 
 Danes, not daring to come forth, kept themselves 
 within that town and castle, so that no great fight was 
 hazarded there ; at length the Mercians, weary of long 
 suspense, entered into conditions of peace with their 
 enemies. After which the Danes, returning back to 
 York, made their abode there the space of one year,'' 
 committing, some say, many cruelties. Thence em- 
 barking to Lindsey, and all the summer destroying 
 that country, about September' they came with like 
 fury into Kesteven, another part of Lincolnshire; where 
 Algar, the earl of Howland, now Holland, with his 
 forces, and two hundred stout soldiers belonging to the 
 abbey of Croiland, three hundred from about Boston, 
 
 d Post Chrut. 865. S«x. an. 
 t Pott Christ. 867. Sax. ao. 
 
 e Post Christ. 866. Sax. an. Huntinxl. 
 g Asscr. h Post Christ. 866. 
 
 Morcard lord of Brunne, with his numerous family, 
 well trained and armed, Osgot governor of Lincoln 
 with five hundred of that city, all joining together, 
 gave battle to the Danes, slew of them a great multi- 
 tude, with three of their kings, and pursued the rest to 
 their tents ; but the night following, Gothrun, Baseg, 
 Osketil, Halfden, and Hamond, five kings, and as 
 many earls, Frena, Hinguar, Hubba, Sidroc the elder 
 and younger, coming in from several parts with great 
 forces and spoils, great part of the English began to 
 slink home. Nevertheless Algar with such as forsook 
 him not, all next day in order of battle facing the 
 Danes, and sustaining unmoved the brunt of their 
 assaults, could not withhold his men at last from pur- 
 suing their counterfeited flight ; whereby opened and 
 disordered, they fell into the snare of their enemies, 
 rushing back upon them. Algar and those captains 
 forenamed with him, all resolute men, retreating to a 
 hill side, and slaying of such as followed them, mani- 
 fold their own number, died at length upon heaps of 
 dead which they had made round about them. The 
 Danes, thence passing on into the country of East-An- 
 gles, rifled and bunit the monastery of Ely, overthrew 
 earl Wulketul with his whole army, and lodged out 
 the winter at Thetford ; where king Edmond assailing 
 them was with his wliole army put to flight, himself 
 taken, bound to a stake, and shot to death with arrows, 
 his whole country subdued. The next year"! with 
 great supplies, saith Huntingdon, bending their march 
 toward the West-Saxons, the only people now left in 
 whom might seem yet to remain strength or courage 
 likely to oppose them, they came to Reading, fortified 
 there between the two rivers of Thames and Kenet, and 
 about three days after sent out wings of horse under 
 two earls to forage the country;" but Ethelwolf earl 
 of Berkshire, at Englefield a village nigh, encountered 
 them, slew one of their earls, and obtained a great vic- 
 tory. Four days after came the king himself and his 
 brother Alfred with the main battle ; and the Danes 
 issuing forth, a bloody fight began, on either side 
 great slaughter, in M'hich earl Ethelwolf lost his life ; 
 but the Danes, losing no ground, kept their place of 
 standing to the end. Neither did the English for this 
 make less haste to another conflict at Escesdune or 
 Ashdown, four days after, where both armies with their 
 whole force on either side met. The Danes were em- 
 battled in two great bodies, the one led by Bascai and 
 Halfden, their two kings, the other by such earls as 
 were appointed ; in like manner the English divided 
 their powers, Ethelred the king stood against their 
 kings; and though on the lower ground, and coming 
 later into the battle from his orisons, gave a fierce on- 
 set, wherein Bascai (the Danish history names him 
 Ivarus the son of Regnerus) was slain. Alfred was 
 placed against the earls, and beginning the battle ere 
 his brother came into the field, with such resolution 
 charged them, that in the shock most of them were 
 slain ; they are named Sidroc elder and younger, Os- 
 bem, Frean, Harald : at length in both divisions the 
 
 I Ass»r. 
 
 1 Post Christ. 870. Ingull. 
 
 k Post Christ. 8^. Sim. Dun. 
 m Post Christ. 871. Sax. an. o Awtr. 
 
Book V. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 533 
 
 Danes turn their backs ; many thousands of them cut 
 off, the rest pursued till night. So much the more it 
 may be wondered to hear next in the annals, that the 
 Danes, fourteen days after such an overthrow fighting- 
 ao-ain with Ethelred and his brother Alfred at Basing, 
 (under conduct, saith the Danish history, of Agnerus 
 and Hubbo, brothers of the slain Ivarus,) should ob- 
 tain the victory; especially since the new supply of 
 Danes mentioned by Asser ° arrived after this action. 
 But after two months, the king and his brother fought 
 •with them again at Mertun, in two squadrons as before, 
 in which fight hard it is to understand who had the 
 better ; so darkly do the Saxon annals deliver their 
 meaning with more than wonted infancy. Yet these 
 I take (for Asser is here silent) to be the chief fountain 
 of our story, the ground and basis upon which the 
 monks later in time gloss and comment at their plea- 
 sure. Nevertheless it appears, that on the Sa.xon part, 
 not Heamund the bishop only, but many valiant men 
 lost their lives, p This fight was followed by a heavy 
 summer plague ; whereof, as is thought, king Ethel- 
 red died in the fifth year of his reign, and was buried at 
 Winburn, where his epitaph inscribes that he had his 
 death's wound by the Danes, according to the Danish 
 history 872. Of all these terrible landings and devas- 
 tations by the Danes, from the days of Ethelwolf till 
 their two last battles with Ethelred, or of their leaders, 
 whether kings, dukes, or earls, the Danish history of 
 best credit saith nothing; so little '^'it or conscience it 
 seems they had to leave any memory of their brutish 
 rather than manly actions; unless we shall suppose 
 them to have come, as above was cited out of Asser, 
 from Danubius, rather than from Denmark, more pro- 
 bably some barbarous nation of Prussia, or Livonia, not 
 long before seated more northward on the Baltic sea. 
 
 ALFRED. 
 
 Alfred, the fourth son of Ethelwolf, had scarce per- 
 formed his brother's obsequies, and the solemnity of his 
 own crowning, when at the month's end in haste with 
 a small power he encountered the whole army of Danes 
 at Wilton, and most part of the day foiled them ; hut 
 unwarily following the chase, gave others of them the 
 advantage to rally ; who returning upon him now 
 weary, remained masters of the field. This year, as is 
 affirmed in the annals, nine battles had been fought 
 against the Danes on the south side of Thames, besides 
 innumerable excursions made by Alfred and other 
 leaders ; one king, nine earls were fallen in fight, so that 
 weary on both sides at the year's end, league or truce 
 was concluded. Yet next yeari the Danes took their 
 march to London, now exposed to their prey; there 
 they wintered, and thither came the Mercians to renew 
 peace with them. The year following they roved back 
 to the parts beyond Humber, hut wintered at Torksey 
 in Lincolnshire, where the Mercians now the third time 
 made peace with them. Notwithstanding which, re- 
 moving their camp to Rependune in Mercia,"^ now 
 
 o Ponfan. Hist. Dan. I. 4. 
 q Post Christ. 872. Sax. an. 
 s Post Christ. 874. Sax. an. 
 
 p Camden. 
 Post Christ. 873. Sax. an. Camd. 
 t Post Christ. 875. Sax. an. 
 
 Repton upon Trent in Derbyshire, and there winter- 
 ing, they constrained Burhed the king to fly into 
 foreign parts, making seizure of his kingdom ; he run- 
 ning the direct way to Ronie,^ (with better reason than 
 his ancestors,) died there, and was buried in a church 
 by the English school. His kingdom the Danes farmed 
 out to Kelwulf, one of his houshold servants or officers, 
 with condition to be resigned them when they com- 
 manded. * From Rependune they dislodged, Hafdeu 
 their king leading part of his ai-my northward, wintered 
 by the river Tine, and subjecting all those quarters, 
 wasted also the Picts and British beyond: but Guth- 
 run, Oskitell, and Anwynd, other three of their kings, 
 moving from Rependune, came with a great army to 
 Grantbrig, and remained there a whole year. But Al- 
 fred that summer proposing to try his fortune with a 
 fleet at sea, (for he had found that the want of shipping 
 and neglect of navigation had exposed the land to these 
 piracies,) met with seven Danish rovers, took one, the 
 rest escaping ; an acceptable success from so small a 
 beginning : for the English at that time were but little 
 experienced in sea-afliairs. The next" year's first mo- 
 tion of the Danes was towards Warham castle, where 
 Alfred meeting them, either by policy, or their doubt 
 of his power, Ethelwer(J saith, by money brought them 
 to such terms of peace, as that they swore to him upon 
 a hallowed bracelet, others say upon certain » relics, (a 
 solemn oath it seems, which they never vouchsafed be- 
 fore to any other nation,) forthwith to depart the land : 
 but falsifying that oath, by night with all the horse 
 they had (Asser saithp' slaying all the horsemen he 
 had) stole to Exeter, and there wintered. In Nor- 
 thumberland, Hafden their king began to settle, to di- 
 vide the laud, to till, and to inhabit. Meanwhile they 
 in the west, who were marched to Exeter, entered the 
 city, coursing now and then to Warham ; but their 
 fleet the next^ year, sailing or rowing about the west, 
 met with such a tempest near to Swanswich or Gnave- 
 wic, as wrecked one hundred and twenty of their 
 ships, and left the rest easy to be mastered by those 
 galleys, which Alfred had set there to guard the seas, 
 and straiten Exeter of provision. He the while be- 
 leaguering* them in the city, now humbled with the 
 loss of their navy, (two navies, saith Asser, the one at 
 Gnavewic, the other at Swanwine,) distressed them so, 
 as that they give him as many hostages as he required, 
 and as many oaths, to keep their covenanted peace, 
 and kept it. For the summer coming on, they departed 
 into Mercia, whereof part they divided among them- 
 selves, part left to Kelwulf their substituted king. The 
 twelfth tide following,'' all oaths forgotten, they came 
 to Chippenham in Wiltshire, dispeopling the countries 
 round, dispossessing some, driving others beyond the 
 sea; Alfred himself with a small company was forced 
 to keep within woods and fenny places, and for some 
 time all alone, as Florent saith, sojourned with Dun- 
 wulf a swineherd, made afterwards for his devotion 
 and aptness to learning bishop of Winchester. Hafden 
 and the brother of Hinguar'^ coming with twenty-three 
 
 X Florent. 
 
 u Post Christ. 876. Sax. an. 
 2 Post Christ. 87". Sax. an. 
 b Post Christ. 878. Sax. an. 
 
 y Florent. 
 a Asser. 
 c Sin). Dun. 
 
534 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book V. 
 
 ships from North Wales, where they had made jifroat 
 spoil, landed in Devonshire, nigh to a strong' castle 
 named Kinwitli ; where, by the garrison issiiintj forth 
 unexpectedly, they were slain with twelve hundred of 
 their men.* Meanwhile the king about Easter, not 
 despairing of his affairs, built a fortress at a place 
 called Athelney in Somersetshire, therein valiantly 
 defending himself and his followers, frequently sally- 
 ing forth. The seventh week after he rode out to a 
 place called Ecbryt-stone in the east part of Selwood : 
 thither resorted to him with much gratulation the So- 
 merset and Wiltshire men, with many out of Hamp- 
 shire, some of whom a little before had fled their 
 country ; with these marching to Ethandune, now 
 Edindon in Wiltshire, he gave battle to the whole 
 Danish power, and put them to flight." Then be- 
 sieging their castle, within fourteen days took it 
 Malmsbury writes, that in this time of his recess, 
 to go a spy into the Danish camp, he took upon him 
 with one servant the habit of a fiddler; by this means 
 gaining access to the king's table, and sometimes to 
 bis bed chamber, got knowledge of their secrets, their 
 careless encamping, and thereby this opportunity of 
 assailing them on a sudden. The Danes, by this 
 misfortune broken, gave him inore hostages, and re- 
 newed their oaths to depart out of his kingdom. 
 Their king Gytro or Gothrun offered willingly to 
 receive baptism,*' and accordingly came with thirty 
 of his friends to a place called Aldra or Aulre, near 
 to Athelney, and were baptized at Wedraore; where 
 Alfred received him out of the font, and named him 
 Athelstan. After which tliey abode with him twelve 
 days, and were dismissed with rich presents. Where- 
 upon the Danes removed next*' year to Cirences- 
 ter, thence peaceably to the East-Angles; which 
 Alfred, as some write, had bestowed on Gothrun 
 to hold of him ; the bounds whereof may be read 
 among the laws of Alfred. Others of them went to 
 Fulham on the Thames, and joining there with a great 
 fleet newly come into the river, thence passed over into 
 France and Flanders, both which they entered so far 
 conquering or wasting, as witnessed sufficiently, that 
 the French and Flemish were no more able than the 
 English, by policy or prowess, to keep off that Danish 
 inundation from their land.*" Alfred thus rid of them, 
 and intending for the future to prevent their landing ; 
 three years after (quiet the mean while) with more 
 ships and better provided puts to sea, and at first met 
 with four of theirs, whereof two he took, throwing the 
 men overboard, then with two others, wherein two 
 were of their princes, and took them also, but not 
 without some loss of his own.' After three years an- 
 other fleet of them appeared on these seas, so huge 
 tliat one part of them thought themselves sufficient to 
 enter upon East-France, the other came to Rochester, 
 and beleaguered it ; they within stoutly defending 
 themselves, till Alfred with great forces, coming down 
 upon the Danes, drove them to their ships, leaving for 
 haste all their horses behind them.'' The same year 
 
 ft Amtr. e Camden. f Camden. 
 
 ^ A*** Chrirt. ftJ9. S«x. an. h Post Chri*t. 882. Sax. an. 
 
 I Post ChriM. nss. Sax. an. k bim. Dun. 
 
 Alfred sent a fleet toward the East-Angles, then inha- 
 bited by the Danes, which, at the mouth of Stoiir, 
 meeting with sixteen Danish ships, after some fight 
 took them all, and slew all the soldiers on board ; but 
 in their way home lying careless, were overtaken by 
 another part of that fleet, and came off with loss : 
 whereupon perhaps those Danes, who were settled 
 among tlie East-Angles, erected with new hopes, vio- 
 lated the peace which they had sworn to Alfred,' who 
 spent the next year in repairing London (besieging, 
 saith Huntingdon) much ruined and unpeopled by the 
 Danes ; the Londoners, all but those who had been led 
 away captive,"* soon returned to their dwellings, and 
 Ethred, duke of Mercia, was by the king appointed 
 their governour. " But after thirteen years respite of 
 peace, another Danish fleet of two hundred and fifty 
 sail, from the east part of France, arrived at the mouth 
 of a river in East-Kent, called Limen, nigh to the 
 great wood Andred, famous for length and breadth ; 
 into that wood they drew up their ships four miles 
 from the river's mouth, and built a fortress. After 
 whom Haesten, with another Danish fleet of eighty 
 ships, entering the mouth of Thames, built a fort at 
 Middleton, the former army remaining at a place call- 
 ed Apeltre. Alfred, perceiving this, took of those 
 Danes who dwelt in Northumberland a new oath of 
 fidelity, and of those in Essex hostages, lest they 
 should join, as they were wont, with their countrymen 
 newly arrived." And by the next year having got to- 
 gether his forces, between either army of the Danes 
 encamped so as to be ready for either of them, who 
 first should happen to stir forth ; troops of horse also 
 he sent continually abroad, assisted by such as could 
 be spared from strong places, wherever the countries 
 wanted them, to encounter foraging parties of the 
 enemy. The king also divided sometimes his whole 
 array, marching out with one part by turns, the other 
 keeping intrenched. In conclusion rolling up and down, 
 both sides met at Farnham in Surrey ; where the Danes 
 by Alfred's horse troops were put to flight, and crossing 
 the Thames to a certain island near Coin in Essex, or 
 as Camden thinks by Colebrook, were besieged there 
 by Alfred till provision failed the besiegers, another 
 part staid behind with their king wounded. Mean- 
 while Alfred preparing to reinforce the siege of Colney, 
 the Danes of Northumberland, breaking faith, came 
 by sea to the East-Angles, and with a hundred ships 
 coasting southward, landed in Devonshire, and be- 
 sieged Exeter; thither Alfred hasted with his powers, 
 except a squadron of Welsh that came to I^n- 
 don: with whom the citizens marching forth to 
 Bearaflet, where Haesten the Dane had built a strong 
 fort, and left a garrison, while he himself with the main 
 of his army was entered far into the country, luckily 
 surprise the fort, master the garrison, make prey of all 
 they find there ; their ships also they burnt or brought 
 away with good booty, and many prisoners, among 
 whom the wife and two sons of Haesten were sent to 
 the king, who forthwith set them at liberty. Where- 
 
 I Post Christ. KMJ. Sax. an. tti Sim. Pun. n Post Christ. 
 
 89.1. Sax. an. o Post Christ. B94. Sax. an. 
 
Book V. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 535 
 
 upon Haesten gave oath of amity and hostages to the 
 king ; he in requital, whether freely or by agreement, 
 a sum of money. Nevertheless, without regard of faith 
 given, while Alfred was busied about Exeter, joining 
 with the other Danish army, he built another castle in 
 Essex at Shoberie, thence marching westward by the 
 Thames, aided with the Northumbrian and East-Ang- 
 lish Danes, they came at length to Severn, pilhiging 
 all in their way. But Ethred, Ethelm, and Ethelnoth, 
 the king's captains, with united forces pitched nigh to 
 them at Buttingtun, on the Severn bank in Mont- 
 gomeryshire,P the river running between, and there 
 many weeks attended ; the king meanwhile blocking 
 up the Danes who besieged Exeter, having eaten part 
 of their horses, the rest urged with hunger broke forth 
 to their fellows, who lay encamped on the east side of 
 the river, and were all there discomfited with some loss 
 of valiant men on the king's party; the rest ded back 
 to Essex, and their fortress there. Then Laf, one of 
 their leaders, gathered before winter a great army of 
 Northumbrian and East-Aiiglish Danes, who leaving 
 their money, ships, and wives with the East-Angles, 
 and marching day and night, sat down before a city 
 in the west called Wirheal near to Chester, and took it 
 ere they could be overtaken. The English after two 
 days' siege, hopeless to dislodge them, wasted the 
 country round to cut off from them all provision, and 
 departed. i Soon after which, next year, the Danes 
 no longer able to hold Wirheal, destitute of victuals, 
 entered North Wales; thence laden with spoils, part 
 returned into Northumberland, others to the East-An- 
 gles as far as Essex, where they seized on a small 
 island called Meresig. And here again the annals re- 
 cord them to besiege Exeter, but without coherence of 
 sense or story. ■'Othei-s relate to this purpose, that re- 
 turning by sea from the siege of Exeter, and in their 
 way landing on the coast of Sussex, they of Chichester 
 sallied out and slew of them many hundreds, taking 
 also some of their ships. The same year they who 
 possessed Meresig, intending to winter thereabout, 
 drew up their ships, some into the Thames, others into 
 the river Lee, and on the bank thereof built a castle 
 twenty miles from London ; to assault which, the Lon- 
 doners aided with other forces marched out the summer 
 following, but were soon put to flight, losing four of 
 the king's captains. "Huntingdon writes quite the 
 contrary, that these four were Danish captains, and the 
 overthrow theirs : but little credit is to be placed in 
 Huntingdon single. For the king thereupon with his 
 forces lay encamped nearer the city, that the Danes 
 might not infest them in time of harvest; in the mean 
 time, subtilely devising to turn Lee stream several 
 ways, whereby the Danish bottoms were left on dry 
 ground : which they soon perceiving, marched over 
 land to Quatbrig on the Severn, built a fortress, and 
 wintered there ; while their ships left in Lee were either 
 broken or brought away by the Londoners; but their 
 wives and children they had left in safety with the 
 East- Angles. ' The next year was pestilent, and be- 
 
 p Camden. 
 
 r Sim. Dun. Florent. 
 
 q Post Christ. 895. Sax. ao. 
 
 sides the common sort, took away many great earls, 
 Kelmond in Kent, Brithulf in Essex, Wulfred in 
 Hampshire, with many others; and to this evil the 
 Danes in Northumberland and East-Angles ceased not 
 to endamage the West Saxons, especially by stealth, 
 robbing on the south shore in certain long galleys. 
 But the king causing to be built others twice as long 
 as usually were built, and some of sixty or seventy oars 
 higher, swifter and steadier than such as were in use 
 before either with Danes or Frisons, his own invention, 
 some of these he sent out against six Danish pirates, 
 who bad done much barm in the Isle of Wight, and 
 parts adjoining. The bickering was doubtful and in- 
 tricate, part on the water, part on the sands ; not with- 
 out loss of some eminent men on the English side. 
 The pirates at length were cither slain or taken, two 
 of them stranded ; the men brought to Winchester, 
 where the king then was, were executed by his com- 
 mand ; one of them escaped to the East-Angles, her 
 men much wounded : the same year not fewer than 
 twenty of their ships perished on the south coast with 
 all their men. And Rollo the Dane or Norman laud- 
 ing here, as Mat. West, writes, though not in what 
 part of the island, after an unsuccessful fight against 
 those forces which first opposed him, sailed into France 
 and conquered the country, since that time called Nor- 
 mandy. This is the sum of what passed in three years 
 against the Danes, returning out of France, set down 
 so perplexly by the Saxon annalist, ill-gifted with ut- 
 terance, as with much ado can be understood sometimes 
 what is spoken, whether meant of the Danes, or of the 
 Saxons. After which troublesome time, Alfred enjoy- 
 ing three years of peace, by him spent, as his manner 
 was, not idly or voluptuously, but in all virtuous em- 
 ployments both of mind and body, becoming a prince 
 of his renown, ended his days in the year nine hun- 
 dred," the fifty-first of his age, the thirtieth of his reign, 
 and was buried regally at Winchester : he was born 
 at a place called Wanading in Berkshire, his mother 
 Osburga, the daughter of Oslac the king's cupbearer, 
 a Goth by nation, and of noble descent. He was of 
 person comelier than all his brethren, of pleasing 
 tongue and graceful behaviour, ready wit and memory ; 
 yet through the fondness of his parents towards him, 
 had not been taught to read till the twelfth year of his 
 age; but the great desire of learning, which was in 
 him, soon appeared by his conning of Saxon poems 
 day and night, which with great attention he heard by 
 others repeated. He was besides excellent at hunting, 
 and the new art then of hawking, but more exemplary 
 in devotion, having collected into a book certain pray- 
 ers and psalms, which he carried ever with him in his 
 bosom to use on all occasions. He thirsted after all 
 liberal knowledge, and oft complained, that in his 
 youth he had no teachers, in his middle age so little 
 vacancy from wars and the cares of his kingdom ; yet 
 leisure he found sometimes, not only to learn much 
 himself, but to communicate thereof what he could to 
 his people, by translating books out of Latin into 
 
 s Post <;hrist. 896. Sax. ao. 
 u Post Christ. 900. Asser. 
 
 t Post Christ. 897. Sax. an. 
 
596 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book V. 
 
 Eng'Iisb, Orosiiis, Boethius, Beda's history and others; 
 permitted none unlearned to bear office, either in court 
 or commonwealth. At twenty years of age, not yet 
 reigning, he took to wife Egelswitha the daughter of 
 Ethelred a Mercian earl. The extremities which befel 
 bim in the sixth of his reign, Neothan abbot told him, 
 were justly come upon him for neglecting in his 
 younger days the complaint of such as injured and op- 
 pressed repaired to him, as then second person in the 
 kingdom, for redress ; which neglect, were it such in- 
 deed, were yet excusable in a youth, through jollity of 
 mind unwilling perhaps to be detailed long with sad 
 and sorrowful narrations ; but from the time of his un- 
 dertaking regal charge, no man more patient in hearing 
 causes, more inquisitive in examining, more exact in 
 doing justke, and providing good laws, which are yet 
 extant; more severe in punishing unjust judges or ob- 
 stinate offenders. Thieves especially and robbers, to 
 the terrour of whom in cross ways were hung upon a 
 high post certain chains of gold, as it were daring any 
 one to take them thence; so that justice seemed in his 
 days not to flourish only, but to triumph : no man than 
 he more frugal of two precious things in man's life, 
 his time and his revenue ; no man wiser in the disposal 
 of both. His time, the day and night, he distributed by 
 the burning of certain tapers into three equal portions; 
 the one was for devotion, the other for public or private 
 affairs, the third for bodily refreshment ; how each 
 hour passed, he was put in mind by one who had that 
 office. His whole annual revenue, which his first care 
 was should be justly his own, he divided into two equal 
 parts ; the first he employed to secular uses, and sub- 
 divided those into three, the first to pay his soldiers, 
 household servants and guard, of which divided into 
 three bands, one attended monthly by turn ; the second 
 was to pay his architects and workmen, whom he had 
 got together of several nations ; for he was also an ele- 
 gant builder, above the custom and conceit of English- 
 men in those days : the third he had in readiness to 
 relieve or honour strangers according to their worth, 
 who came from all parts to see him, and to live under 
 him. The other equal part of his yearly wealth he de- 
 dicated to religious uses, those of four sorts ; the first 
 to relieve the poor, the second to the building and main- 
 tenance of two monasteries, the third of a school, where 
 he had persuaded the sons of many noblemen to study 
 sacred knowledge and liberal arts, some say at Oxford ;» 
 the fourth was for the relief of foreign churches, as far 
 as India to the shrine of St. Thomas, sending thither 
 Sigelm bishop of Sherbum, who both returned safe, 
 and brought with him many rich gems and spices; 
 gifts also and a letter he received from the patriarch at 
 Jerusalem; sent many to Rome, and from them re- 
 ceived relics. Thus far, and much more might be said 
 of his noble mind, which rendered him the mirror of 
 princes; his body was diseased in his youth with a 
 great soreness in the siege, and that ceasing of itself, 
 with another inward pain of unknown cause, which 
 held him by frequent fits to his dying day : yet not 
 
 X Malmt. 
 
   PuM Cbrut. 901. Sax. an. 
 
 y Ibid. 
 
 z Ilunting. 
 b Pott CbrisU 9oe. 
 
 disenabled to sustain those many glorious labours of 
 his life both in peace and war. 
 
 EDWARD the Elder. 
 
 Edward the son of Alfred succeeded,y in learning 
 not equal, in power and extent of dominion surpassing 
 his father. The beginning of his reign had much dis- 
 turbance by Ethelwald an ambitious young man," son 
 of the king's uncle, or cousin gernian, or brother, for 
 his genealogy is variously delivered. He vainly avouch- 
 ing to have equal right with Edward of succession to 
 the crown possessed himself of Winburn in Dorset," 
 and another town diversly named, giving out that there 
 he would live or die; but encompassed with the king's 
 forces at Badbury a place nigh, his heart failing aim, 
 he stole out by night, and fled to the Danish army be- 
 yond Humber. The king sent after him, but not 
 overtaking, found his wife in the town, whom he had 
 married out of a nunnery, and commanded her to be 
 sent back thither. ''About this time the Kentish men 
 against a multitude of Danish pirates fought prosper- 
 ously at a place called Holme, as Hoveden records. 
 Ethelwald, aided by the Northumbrians with shipping, 
 three years after.^ sailing to the East-Angles, persuaded 
 the Danes there to fall into the king's territory, who 
 marching with him as far as Crecklad,and passing the 
 Thames there, wasted as far beyond as they durst ven- 
 ture, and laden with spoils returned home. The king 
 with his powers making speed after them, between the 
 Dike and Ouse, supposed to be Suffolk and Cam- 
 bridgeshire, as far as the fens northward, laid waste all 
 before him. Thence intending to return, he com- 
 manded that all his army should follow him close 
 without delay; but the Kentish men, though often 
 called upon, lagging behind, the Danish army pre- 
 vented them, and joined battle with the king : where 
 duke Sigulf and earl Sigelm, with many other of the 
 nobles were slain ; on the Danes' part, Eoric their 
 king, and Ethelwald the authorof this war, with others 
 of high note, and of them greater number, but with 
 g^at ruin on both sides ; yet the Danes kept in their 
 power the burying of their slain. Whatever followed 
 upon this conflict, which we read not, the king two 
 years after with the Danes,** both of East-Angles and 
 Northumberland, concluded peace, which continued 
 three years, by whomsoever broken : for at the end 
 thereof* king Edward, raising great forces out of 
 West-Sex and Mercia, sent them against the Danes 
 beyond Humber; where staj'ing five weeks, they made 
 great spoil and slaughter. The king offered them 
 terms of peace, but they rejecting all entered with 
 the next year into Mercia,' rendering no less hostility 
 than they had suffered ; but at Tetnal in Staffordshire, 
 saith Florent, were by the English in a set battle over- 
 thrown. King Edward, then in Kent, had got toge- 
 ther of ships about a hundred sail, others gone south- 
 ward came back and met him. The Danes, now sup- 
 posing that his main forces were upon tlie sea, took 
 
 c Post Christ 905. Sax. an. 
 e Post Cliiist. 910. Sax. an. 
 
 d Post Christ. W. Sax. an. 
 f Pust Christ. 911. Sax. an. 
 
Book V. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 537 
 
 liberty to rove and plunder up and down, as hope of 
 prey led them, beyond Severn. 8 The king- guessing 
 what might embolden them, sent before him the lightest 
 of his army to entertain them ; then following with 
 the rest, set upon them in their return over Cantbrig 
 in Gloucestershire, and slew many thousands, among 
 whom Ecwils, Hafden, and Hinguar their kings, 
 and many other harsh names in Huntingdon ; the place 
 also of this fight is variously written, by Ethelwerd and 
 Florent called Wodensfield. hThe year following, 
 Ethred the duke of Mercia, to whom Alfred had given 
 London, with his daughter in marriage, now dying. 
 King Edward resumed that city, and Oxford, with the 
 countries adjoining, into his own hands; and the year 
 after ' built, or much repaired by his soldiers, the town 
 of Hertford on either side Lee ; and having a sufficient 
 number at the work, marched about middle summer 
 with the other part of his forces into Essex, and en- 
 camped at Maldon, while his soldiers built Witham ; 
 where a good part of the country, subject formerly to 
 the Danes, yielded themselves to his protection. ^ Four 
 years after (Florent allows but one year) the Danes 
 from Leicester and Northampton, falling into Oxford- 
 shire, committed much rapine, and in some towns 
 thereof great slaughter ; while another party wasting 
 Hertfordshire, met with other fortune: for the country 
 people, inured now to such kind of incursions, joining 
 stoutly together, fell upon the spoilers, and recovered 
 their own goods, with some booty from their enemies. 
 About the same time Elfled the king's sister sent her 
 army of Mercians into Wales, who routed the Welsh,' 
 took the castle of Bricnan-mere by Brecknock, and 
 brought away the king's wife of that country, with 
 other prisoners. Not long after she took Derhy from 
 the Danes, and the castle by a sharp assault. ■" But 
 the year ensuing brought a new fleet of Danes to Lid- 
 wic in Devonshire, under two leaders. Otter and Roald ; 
 who sailing thence westward about the land's end, came 
 up to the mouth of Severn ; there landing wasted the 
 Welsh coast, and Irchenfield part of Herefordshire ; 
 where they took Kuneleac a British bishop, for whose 
 ransom King Edward gave forty pound : but the men 
 of Hereford and Gloucestershire assembling put them 
 to flight ; slaying Roald and the brother of Otter, with 
 many more, pursued them to a wood, and there beset 
 compelled them to give hostages of present departure. 
 The king with his army sat not far off, securing from 
 the south of Severn to Avon ; so that openly they durst 
 not, by night they twice ventured to land ; but found 
 such welcome that few of them came back ; the rest 
 anchored by a small island, where many of them fa- 
 mished ; then sailing to a place called Deomed, they 
 crossed into Ireland. The king with his army went 
 to Buckingham, staid there a month, and built two 
 castles or forts on either bank of Ouse ere his departing ; 
 and Turkitel a Danish leader, with those of Bedford 
 and Northampton, yielded him subjection. "Where- 
 upon the next year, he came with his army to the town 
 of Bedford, took possession thereof, staid there a month, 
 
 B F.llielwerd 2 an. h Post Christ. 917. Sax. i Post Christ. 913. Sax. an. 
 k Post Christ. 917. Sax. an. 1 HunttDgd. Catnd. 
 
 and gave order to build another part of the town, on 
 the south side of Ouse. " Thence the year following 
 went again to Maldon, repaired and fortified the town. 
 Turkitel the Dane having small hope to thrive here, 
 where things with such prudence were managed 
 against his interest, got leave of the king, with as 
 many voluntaries as would follow him, to pass into 
 France. P Early the next year King Edward reedified 
 Tovechester now Torchester ; and another city in the 
 annals called Wigingmere. Meanwhile the Danes in 
 Ixicester and Northamptonshire, not liking perhaps 
 to be neighboured with strong towns, laid siege to 
 Torchester; but they within repelling the assault one 
 whole day till supplies came, quitted the siege by 
 night; and pursued close by the besieged, between 
 Birnwud and Ailsbury were surprised, many of them 
 made prisoners, and much of their baggage lost. Other 
 of the Danes at Huntingdon, aided from the East- 
 Angles, finding that castle not commodious, left it, 
 and built another at Temsford, judging that place more 
 opportune from whence to make their excursions; and 
 soon after went forth with design to assail Bedford : 
 but the garrison issuing out slew a great part of them, 
 the rest fled. After this a greater army of them, ga- 
 thered out of Mercia and the East-Angles, came and 
 besieged the cit^' called Wigingmere a whole day ; but 
 finding it defended stoutly by them within, thence 
 also departed, driving away much of their cattle : 
 whereupon the English, from towns and cities round 
 about joining forces, laid siege to the town and castle 
 of Temsford, and by assault took both ; slew their king 
 with Toglea a duke, and Mannan his son an earl, 
 with all the rest there found ; who chose to die rather 
 than yield. Encouraged by this, the men of Kent, 
 Surrey, and part of Essex, enterprise the siege of Col- 
 chester, nor gave over till they won it, sacking the 
 town and putting to sword all the Danes therein, ex- 
 cept some who escaped over the wall. To the succour 
 of these a great number of Danes inhabiting ports and 
 other towns in the East-Angles united their force ; but 
 coming too late, as in revenge beleaguered Maldon : 
 but that town also timely relieved, they departed, not 
 only frustrate of their design, but so hotly pursued, 
 that many thousands of them lost their lives in the 
 flight. Forthwith King Edward with his West-Saxons 
 went to Passham upon Ouse, there to guard the pas- 
 sage, while others were building a stone wall about 
 Torchester ; to him their earl Thurfert, and other lord 
 Danes, with their army thereabout, as far as Weolud, 
 came and submitted. Whereat the king's soldiers joy- 
 fully cried out to be dismissed home : therefore with 
 another part of them he entered Huntingdon, and re- 
 paired it, where breaches had been made ; all the people 
 thereabout returning to obedience. The like was done 
 at Colchester by the next remove of his army; after 
 which both East and West-Angles, and the Danish 
 forces among them, yielded to the king, swearing al- 
 legiance to him both by sea and land : the army 
 also of Danes at Grantbrig, surrendering themselves, 
 
 m Post Christ. 919. Sax. an. 
 o Poit Christ. 920. Sax. an. 
 
 n Post Christ. 919. Sax. an. 
 p Post Christ. 921. Sax. au. 
 
538 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book V, 
 
 took the same oath. Tlie summer following^i lie 
 came with his army to Stamford, built a castle there 
 on the south side of the river, where all the people 
 of these quarters acknowledg'ed him supreme. Duriji{» 
 his abode there, P^lfled his sister, a martial woman, 
 who after her husband's death would no m(»re marry, 
 but g'ave herself to public affairs, repairing and 
 fortifying' many towns, warring sometimes, died at 
 Tamworth the chief seat of Mercia, whereof by gift 
 of Alfred her father she was lady or queen ; where- 
 by that whole nation became obedient to King^ Ed- 
 ward, as did also North Wales, with Howel, Cle- 
 daucus, and Jeothwell, their kings. Thence passing 
 to Nottingham, he entered and repaired the town, 
 placed there part English, part Danes, and received 
 fealty from all in Mercia of either nation. ""The next 
 autumn, coming with his army into Cheshire, he built 
 and fortified Thelwell ; and while hf staid there, call- 
 ed another army out of Mercia, which he sent to repair 
 and fortify Manchester. ' About midsummer following 
 he marched again to Nottingham, built a town over 
 against it on the south side of that river, and with a 
 bridge joined them both ; thence journeyed to a place 
 called Bedecanwilliu in Pictland ; there also built 
 and fenced a city on the borders, where the king- of 
 Scots did him honour as to his sovereign, together with 
 the whole Scottish nation ; the like did Reginald and 
 the son of Eadulf, Danish princes, with all the Nor- 
 thumbrians, both English and Danes. The King also 
 of a people thereabout called Streatgledwalli (the 
 North-Welsh, as Camden thinks, of Strat-Cluid in 
 Denliighsbire, perhaps rather the British of Cumber- 
 land) did him homage, and not undeserved. ' For, 
 Buchanan himself confesses, that this king Edward, 
 with a small number of men compared to his enemies, 
 overthrew in a great battle the whole united power 
 both of Scots and Danes, slew most of the Scottish no- 
 bility, and forced Malcolm, whom Constantine the 
 Scotch king had made general, and designed heir of 
 his crown, to save himself by flight sore wounded. Of 
 the English he makes Athelstan the son of Edward 
 chief leader ; and so far seems to confound times and 
 actions, as to make this battle the same with that 
 fought by Athelstan about twenty-four years after at 
 Bruneford, against Anlaf and Constantine, whereof 
 hereafter. But here Buchanan " takes occasion to in- 
 veigh against the English writers, upbraiding them 
 with ignorance, who affirm Athelstan to have been su- 
 preme king of Britain, Constantine the Scottish king 
 with others to have held of him : and denies that in the 
 annals of Marianus Scotus any mention is to be i'ounii 
 thereof; which I shall not stand much to contradict, 
 for in Marianus, whether by surname or by nation 
 Scotus, will be found as little mention of any other 
 Scottish affairs, till the time of king Dunchad slain by 
 Machetad, or Macbeth, in the year 1040 : which gives 
 cause of suspicion, that the affairs of Scotland before 
 that time were so obscure, as to be unknown to their 
 own countrymen, who lived and wrote his chronicle 
 
 <1 Jost Cliri»». 9K. Sax. an. r Post Christ. 9<i3. Sax. an. 
 
 • Pnst Christ. Wl. tBurh. 1 6. u Buch. 1. 6. 
 
 X Post Christ. 943. Sax. au. IluiitingU. Mat. West. y Sim. Uun. 
 
 not long after. But King Edward thus nobly doing, 
 and thus honoured, the year" following' died at Fareu- 
 don ; a builder and restorer even in war, not a de- 
 stroyer of his land. He had by several wives many 
 ciiildren ; his eldest daughter Edgith he gave in mar- 
 riage to Charles king of France, grandchild of Charles 
 the Bald above mentioned : of the rest in place con- 
 venient. His laws are yet to be seen. He was buried 
 at Winchester, in the monastery, by Alfred his father. 
 And a few days after him died Ethelward his eldest 
 son, the heir of his crown. He had the whole island 
 in subjection, yet so as petty kings reigned under him.y 
 In Northumberland, after Ecbert whom the Danes 
 had set up and the Northumbrians, yet unruly under 
 their yoke, at the end of six years had expelled, one 
 Ricsig was set up kinc, and bore the name three 
 years ; then another Ecbert, and Gutlired ; the latter, 
 if we believe legends, of a servant made king by com- 
 mand of St. Cudbert, in a vision ; and enjoined by an- 
 other vision of the same saint, to pay well for his 
 royalty many lands and privileges to his church and 
 monastery. But now to the story. 
 
 ATHELSTAN. 
 
 Athelstan, next in age to Ethelward his brother, 
 who deceased untimely few days before, though bora 
 of a concubine, yet for the great appearance of many 
 virtues in him, and his brethren being yet under age, 
 was exalted to the throne at Kingston upon Thames,'' 
 and by his father's last will, saith Malmsbury, yet 
 not without some opposition of one Alfred and his ac- 
 complices; who not liking he should reign, had con- 
 spired to seize on him after his father's death, and to 
 put out his eyes. But the conspirators discovered, 
 and Alfred, denying the plot,* was sent to Rome, to 
 assert his innocence before the pope ; where taking his 
 oath on the altar, he fell down immediately, and car- 
 ried out by his servants, three days after died. Mean- 
 while beyond Humber the Danes, though much awed, 
 were not idle. Inguald, one of their kings, took pos- 
 session of York ; Sitric, who some years *> before had 
 slain Niel his brother, by force took Davenport in 
 Cheshire ; and however he defended these doings, 
 grew so inconsiderable,*^ that Athelstan with great so- 
 lemnity gave him his sister Edgith to wife: but he 
 enjoyed her not long, dying ere the year's end ; nor 
 his sons Anlaf and Guthfert the kingdom, driven out 
 the nexf^ year by Athelstan : not unjustly saith Hun- 
 tingdon, as being first raisers of the war. Simeon calls 
 him Gudfrid a British king, whom Athelstan this year 
 drove out of his kingdom ; and i)crha])s they were both 
 one, the name and time not much differing, the place 
 only mistaken. Malmsbury differs in the name also, 
 calling him Adulf a certain rebel. Them also I wish 
 as much mistaken, who write that Athelstan, jealous of 
 his younger brother Edwin's towardly virtues, lest 
 added to the right of birth they might some time or 
 other call in question his illegitimate precedence, 
 
 2 Post Christ. 950. • M«lms. b Sim. Dun. 
 
 c Malms. Mat. West. d Post. Christ. KJ. Sax. au. 
 
Book V. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 539 
 
 caused him to be drovvnetl in the sea;« exposed, some 
 say, with one servant in a rotten bark, without sail or 
 oar; wliere the youth far off land, and in rouyh wea- 
 ther despairin<^, threw himself" overboard ; the ser- 
 vant, more patient, got to land, and reported the 
 success. But this Malmsbury confesses to be sung^ in 
 old songs, not read in warrantable authors : and Hun- 
 tingdon speaks as of a sad accident to Athelstan, that 
 lie lost his brother Edwin by sea; far the more credible, 
 in that Athelstan, as it is written by all, tenderly loved 
 and bred up the rest of his brethren, of whom he had 
 no less cause to be jealous. And the year *" following' 
 he prospered better than from so foul a fact, passing 
 into Scotland with great puissance, both by sea and 
 land, and chasing his enemies before him, by land as 
 far as Dunfeoder and Wertermore, by sea as far as 
 Cathncss. The cause of this expedition, saith Malms- 
 bury, was to demand Guthfert the son of Sitric, thither 
 fled, though not denied at length by Constantine, who 
 witli Eugenius king of Cumberland, at a place called 
 Dacor or Dacre in that shire, surrendered himself and 
 each his kingdom to Athelstan, who brought back with 
 him for hostage the son of Constantine.? But Guth- 
 fert escaping in the mean while out of Scotland, and 
 Constantine, exasperated by this invasion, persuaded 
 Anlaf, the other son of Sitric, then fled into Ireland, 
 '' others write Anlaf king of Ireland and the Isles, his 
 son-in-law, with six hundred and fifteen ships, and the 
 king of Cumberland with other forces, to his aid. This 
 within four years ' effected, they entered England by 
 Humber, and fought with Athelstan at a place called 
 Wendune, others term it Brunanburg, others Brune- 
 ford, which Ingulf places beyond Humber, Camden in 
 Glcndale of Northumberland on the Scotch borders ; 
 the bloodiest fight, say authors, that ever this island 
 saw : to describe which the Saxon annalist, wont to be 
 sober and succinct, whether the same or another writer, 
 now labouring under the weight of his argument, and 
 overcharged, runs on a sudden into such extravagant 
 fancies and metaphors, as bear him quite beside the 
 scope of being understood. Huntingdon, though him- 
 self peccant enough in this kind, transcribes him word 
 for word as a pastime to his readers. I shall only sum 
 up what of him I can attain, in useful language. The 
 battle was fought eagerly from morning to night ; 
 some fell of King Edward's old army, tried in many a 
 battle before ; but on tiie other side great multitudes, 
 the rest fled to their ships. Five kings, and seven of 
 Anlaf s chief captains, were slain on the place, with 
 Froda a Norman leader; Constantine escaped home, 
 but lost his son in the fight, if I understand my author; 
 Anlaf by sea to Dublin, with a small remainder of his 
 great host. Malmsbury relates this war, adding many 
 circumstances after this manner: that Anlaf, joining 
 with Constantine and the whole power of Scotland, 
 besides those which he brought with him out of Ire- 
 land, came on far southwards, till Athelstan, who had 
 retired on set purpose to be the surer of his enemies, 
 enclosed from all succour and retreat, met him at 
 
 e Post Christ. y?3. Sim. Dun. 
 
 f PustClirUt. 934. Hdx. an. Sim. Dun. 
 
 Bruneford. Anlaf perceiving the valour and resolution 
 of Athelstan, and mistrusting his own forces, though 
 numerous, resolved first to spy in what posture his 
 enemies lay : and imitating perhaps what he heard 
 attempted by King Alfred the age before, in the habit 
 of a musician, got access by his lute and voice to the 
 king's tent, there playing both the minstrel and the 
 spy : then towards evening dismissed, he was observed 
 by one who had been his soldier, and well knew him, 
 viewing earnestly the king's tent, and what approaches 
 lay about it, then in the twilight to depart. The sol- 
 dier forthwith acquaints the king, and by him blamed 
 for letting go his enemy, answered, that he had given 
 first his military oath to Anlaf, whom if he had betray- 
 ed, the king might suspect him of like treasonous mind 
 towards himself; which to disprove, he advised him to 
 remove his tent a good distance off: and so done, it 
 happened that a bishop, with his retinue coming that 
 night to the army, pitched his tent in the same place 
 from whence the king had removed. Anlaf, coming 
 by night as he had designed, to assault the camp, and 
 especially the king's tent, finding there the bishop in- 
 stead, slew him with all his followers. Athelstan took 
 the alarm, and as it seems, was not found so unpro- 
 vided, but that the day now appearing, he put his men 
 in order, and maintained the fight till evening ; wherein 
 Constantine himself was slain with five other kings, 
 and twelve earls; the annals were content with seven, 
 in the rest not disagreeing. Ingulf abbot of Croyland, 
 from the authority of Turketul a principal leader in 
 this battle, relates it more at large to this effect: That 
 Athelstan, above a mile distant from the place where 
 execution was done upon the bishop and his supplies, 
 alarmed at the noise, came down by break of day upon 
 Anlaf and his anny, overwatched and wearied now 
 with the slaughter they had made, and something out 
 of order, yet in two main battles. The king, therefore 
 in like manner dividing, led the one part, consisting 
 most of West Saxons, against Anlaf with his Danes 
 and Irish, committing the other to his chancellor Tur- 
 ketul, with the Mercians and Londoners, against Con- 
 stjintine and his Scots. The shower of arrows and 
 darts overpassed, both battles attacked each other with 
 a close and terrible engagement, for a long space nei- 
 ther side giving ground. Till the chancellor Turketul, 
 a man of great stature and strength, taking with him 
 a i'ew Londoners of select valour, and Singin who led 
 the Worcestershire men, a captain of undaunted 
 courage, broke into the thickest, making his way first 
 through the Picts and Orkeners, then through the 
 Cumbrians and Scots, and came at length where Con- 
 stantine himself fought, unhorsed him, and used all 
 means to take him alive ; but the Scots valiantly de- 
 fending their king, and laying load upon Turketul, 
 which the goodness of his armour well endured, he had 
 yet been beaten down, had not Singin his faithful 
 second at the same time slain Constantine ; which once 
 known, Anlaf and the whole army betook them to 
 flight, whereof a huge multitude fell by the sword. 
 
 e Florent. 
 
 1 Post Christ. 938. Sax. an. Malms 
 
 h Florent. Sim. Dun. 
 
540 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book V. 
 
 This Turketul, not Ions' aAer leaving' worldlj' affairs, 
 became abbot of Croyland, which at his own cost he 
 had repaired from Danish ruins, and left there this 
 memorial of his former actions. Athelstan with his 
 brother Edmund victorious thence turning into Wales, 
 with much more ease vanquished Ludwal the king, 
 and possessed his land. But Malmsbury writes, that 
 commiserating' human chance, as he displaced, so he 
 restored both him and Constantine to their regal state : 
 for the surrender of King Constantine hath been above 
 spoken of. However the Welsh did him homage at 
 the city of Hereford, and covenanted yearly payment 
 of gold twenty pound, of silver three hundred, of oxen 
 twenty-five thousand, besides hunting dogs and hawks. 
 He also took Exeter from the Cornish Britons, who till 
 that time had equal right there with the English, and 
 bounded tliem with the river Tamar, as the other 
 British with Wey. Thus dreaded of his enemies, and 
 renowned far and near, three years ^ after he died at 
 Gloucester, and was buried with many trophies at 
 Malmsbury, where he had caused to be laid his two 
 cousin gcrmans, Elwin and Ethelstan, both slain in the 
 battle against Anlaf. He was thirty years old at his 
 coming to the crown, mature in wisdom from his child- 
 hood, comely of person and behaviour ; so that Alfred 
 his grandfather in blessing him was wont to pray he 
 might live to have the kingdom, and put 'him yet a 
 child into soldier's habit. He had his breeding in the 
 court of Elfled his aunt, of whose virtues more than 
 female we have related, sufficient to evince that his 
 mother, though said to be no wedded wife, was yet such 
 of parentage and worth, as the royal line disdained not, 
 though the song went in Malmsbury's days (for it 
 seems he refused not the authority of ballads for want 
 of better) that his mother was a farmer's daughter, 
 but of excellent feature ; who dreamed one night she 
 brought forth a moon that should enlighten the whole 
 land : which the king's nurse hearing of took her home 
 and bred up courtly; that the king, coming one day 
 to visit his nurse, saw there this damsel, liked her, and 
 by earnest suit prevailing, had by her this famous 
 Athelstan, a bounteous, just, and affable king, as 
 Malmsbury sets him forth, nor less honoured abroad 
 by foreign kings, who sought his friendship by great 
 gifts or affinity ; that Harold king of Noricum sent 
 him a ship whose prow was of gold, sails purple, and 
 other golden things, the more to be wondered at, sent 
 from Noricum, whether meant Norway or Bavaria, the 
 one place so far from such superfluity of wealth, the 
 other from all sea : the embassadors were Helgrim and 
 Offrid, who found the king at York. His sisters he 
 gave in marriage to greatest princes; Elgif to Otho 
 son of Henry the emperor ; Egdith to a certain duke 
 about the Alps; Edgiv to Ludwic king of Aquitain, 
 sprung of Charles the Great; Elhilda to Hugo king 
 of France, who sent Aldulf son of Baldwin earl of 
 Flanders to obtain her. From all these great suitors, 
 especially from the emperor and king of France, came 
 rich presents, horses of excellent breed, gorgeous trap- 
 
 if S°^^y^*^- Wl. S«x. ao. Malms. Ingulf. n Post Christ. 9*6. Sax. an. 
 
 1 Fo»t Cbri»t. 9*9. &tx. an. m Poat ChrUt. 9H. Sax. an. j o Post Christ. 946. Sax. an. 
 
 pings and armour, relics, jewels, odours, vessels of 
 onyx, and other precious things, which I leave poeti- 
 cally described in Malmsbury, taken, as he confesses, 
 out of an old versifier, some ofwho.se verses he recites. 
 The only blemish left upon him was the exposing his 
 brother Edwin, who disavowed by oath the treason 
 whereof he was accused, and implored an equal hear- 
 ing. But these were songs, as before hath been said, 
 which add also that Athelstan, his anger over, soon 
 repented of the fact, and put to death his cupbearer, 
 who had induced him to suspect and expose his l)rotl)er ; 
 put in mind by a word falling from the cupbearer's 
 own mouth, who slipping one day as he bore the king's 
 cup, and recovering himself on the other leg, said 
 aloud fatally, as to him it proved, one brother helps 
 the other. Which words the king laying to heart, 
 and pondering how ill he had done to make away his 
 brother, avenged himself first on the adviser of that 
 fact, took on him seven years' penance, and as IVIat, 
 West, saith, built two monasteries for the soul of his 
 brother. His laws are extant among the laws of other 
 Saxon kings to this day. 
 
 EDMUND. 
 
 Edmund not above eighteen years i old succeeded his 
 brother Athelstan, in courage not inferior. For in the 
 second of his reign he freed Mercia of the Danes that 
 remained there, and took from them the cities of Lin- 
 coln, Nottingham, Stamford, Derby, and Leicester, 
 where they were placed by King Edward, but it seems 
 gave not good proof of their fidelity. Simeon writes, 
 that Anlaf setting forth from York, and having wasted 
 southward as far as Northampton, was met by Edmund 
 at Leicester; but that ere the battles joined, peace was 
 made between them by Odo and Wulstan the two arch- 
 bishops, with conversion of Anlaf; for the same year 
 Edmund received at the fontstone this or another An- 
 laf, as saith Huntingdon, not him spoken of before, 
 who died this year, (so uncertain they are in the story 
 of these times also,) and held Reginald another king of 
 the Northumbrians, while the bishop confirmed him : 
 their limits were divided north and south by Walling- 
 street. But spiritual kindred little availed to keep 
 peace between them, whoever gave the cause ; for we 
 read him two years •" after driving Anlaf (whom the 
 annals now first call the son of Sitric) and Suthfrid son 
 of Reginald out of Northumberland, taking the whole 
 country into subjection. Edmund the next " year 
 harassed Cumberland, then gave it to Malcolm king of 
 Scots, thereby bound to assist him in his wars, both 
 by sea and land. Mat. West, adds, that in this action 
 Edmund had the aid of Leolin prince of North Wales, 
 against Dummail the Cumbrian king, him depriving 
 of his kingdom, and his two sons of their sight. But 
 the year ° after, he himself by strange accident came to 
 an untimely death : feasting with his nobles on St. 
 Austin's day at Puclekerke in Gloucester, to celebrate 
 the memory of bis first converting the Saxons ; he spied 
 
Book V. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 541 
 
 Leof a noted thief, whom he had banished, sitting 
 among his guests: whereat transported with too much 
 vehemence of spirit, though in a just cause, rising from 
 the table he run upon the thief, and catching his hair, 
 pulled him to the ground. The thief, who doubted 
 from such handling no less than his death intended, 
 thought to die not unrevenged ; and with a short dag- 
 ger struck the king, who still laid at him, and little 
 expected such assassination, mortally into the breast. 
 The matter was done in a moment, ere men set at table 
 could turn them, or imagine at first what the stir 
 meant, till perceiving the king deadly wounded, they 
 flew upon the murderer and hewed him to pieces; who 
 like a wild beast at bay, seeing himself surrounded, 
 desperately laid about him, wounding some in his fall. 
 The king was buried at Glaston, whereof Dunstan was 
 then abbot; his laws yet remain to be seen among the 
 laws of other Saxon kings. 
 
 EDRED. 
 
 Edred, the third brother of Athclstan, the sons of 
 Edmund being yet but children, next reigned, not de- 
 generating from his worthy predectssors, and crowned 
 at Kingston. Northumberland he thoroughly subdued, 
 the Scots without refusal swore him allegiance ; yet 
 the Northumbrians, ever of doubtful faith, soon after 
 chose to tliemselves one Eric a Dane. Huntingdon 
 still haunts us with this Anlaf, (of whom we gladly 
 would have been rid,) and will have him before Eric re- 
 called once more and reign four years,P then again put 
 to his shifts. But Edred entering into Northumberland, 
 and with spoils returning, Eric the king fell upon his 
 rear. Edred turning about, both shook off the enenjy, 
 and prepared to make a second inroad : which the 
 Northumbrians dreading rejected Eric, slew Amancus 
 the son of Anlaf, and with many presents appeasing 
 Edred submitted again to his government;'' nor from 
 that time had kings, but were governed by earls, of 
 whom Osulf was the first. ■" About this time Wulstan 
 archbishop of York, accused to have slain certain men 
 of Thetford in revenge of their abbot, whom the towns- 
 men had slain, was committed by the king to close 
 custody; but soon after enlarged, was restored to his 
 place. Malmsbury writes, tliat his crime was to have 
 connived at the revolt of his countrymen : but King 
 Edred two years after, * sickening in the flower of his 
 youth, died much lamented, and was buried at Win- 
 chester. 
 
 EDWI. 
 
 Edwi, the son of Edmund, now come to age,* after 
 his uncle Edred's death took on him the government, 
 and was crowned at Kingston. His lovely person sur- 
 named him the fair, his actions are diversely reported, 
 by Huntingdon not thought illaudable. But Malms- 
 bury and such as follow him write far otherwise, that 
 he married, or kept as concubine, his near kinswoman," 
 
 p Post Christ. 950. Sim. Dun. q Iloved. 
 
 r Post Christ. 953. Sim. Dun. s Post Christ. 955. Sim. Dun. 
 
 t Elhelwerd. u Mat. West. x Post Christ. 956. 
 
 some say both her and her daughter ; so inordinately 
 given to his pleasure, that on the yery day of his coro- 
 nation he abruptly withdrew himself from the company 
 of his peers, whether in banquet or consultation, to sit 
 wantoning in the chamber with his Algiva, so was her 
 name, who had such power over him. Whereat his 
 barons offended sent bishop Dunstan, the boldest among 
 them, to request his return : he, going to the chamber, 
 not only interrupted his dalliance, and rebuked the 
 lady, but taking him by the hand, between force and 
 persuasion brought him back to his nobles. The king 
 highly displeased,'' and instigated perhaps by her who 
 was so prevalent with him, not long after sent Dun- 
 stan into banishment, caused his monastery to be rifled, 
 and became an enemy to all monks and friars. Where- 
 upon Odo archbishop of Canterbury pronounced a se- 
 paration or divorce of the king from Algiva. But that 
 which most incited William of Malmsbury against hira, 
 he gave that monastery to be dwelt in by secular priests, 
 or, to use his own phrase, made it a stable of clerks: 
 at length these affronts done to the church were so re- 
 sented by the people, that the Mercians and Northum- 
 brians revolted from him, and set up Edgar his bro- 
 ther,y leaving to Edwi the West-Saxons only, bounded 
 by the river Thames ; with grief whereof, as is thought, 
 he soon after ended his days,'' and was buried at Win- 
 chester. Meanwhile" Elfin, bishop of that place, after 
 the death of Odo ascending by simony to the chair of 
 Canterbury, and going to Rome the same year for his 
 pall, was frozen to death in the Alps. 
 
 EDGAR. 
 
 Edgar by his brother's death now •> king of all Eng- 
 land at sixteen years of age, called home Dunstan out 
 of Flanders, where he lived in exile. This king had 
 no war all his reign ; yet always well prepared for 
 war, govenied the kingdom in great peace, honour, and 
 prosperity, gaining thence the surname of peaceable, 
 much extolled for justice, clemency, and all kingly 
 virtues,*: the more, ye may be sure by monks, for his 
 building so many monasteries ; as some write, every 
 year one : for he much favoured the monks against se- 
 cular priests, who in the time of Edwi had got posses- 
 sion in most of their convents. His care and wisdom 
 was great in guarding the coast round with stout ships 
 to the number of three thousand six hundred. Mat. 
 West, reckons them four thousand eight hundred, di- 
 vided into four squadrons, to sail to and fro, about the 
 four quarters of the land, meeting each other; the first 
 of twelve hundred sail from east to west, the second of 
 as many from west to east, the third and fourth be- 
 tween north and south ; himself in the summer time 
 with his fleet. Thus he kept out wisely the force of 
 strangers, and prevented foreign w ar, but by their too 
 frequent resort hither in time of peace, and his too 
 much favouring them, he let in their vices unaware. 
 Thence the people, saith Malmsbury, learned of the 
 outlandish Saxons rudeness, of the Flemish daintiness 
 
 y Hoved. z Post Christ. 955. Sax. an. 
 
 a Post Christ. 958. Mat. West. 
 
 b Post Christ. 959. Malms. c Mat. West. 
 
642 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 BuoK y. 
 
 and softness, of the Danes drunkenness ; though I 
 doubt these vices are as naturally homebred here as in 
 any of those countries. Yet in the winter and spring 
 time he usually rode the circuit as a judge itinerant 
 through all his provinces, to see justice well adminis- 
 tered, and the poor not oppressed. Thieves and rob- 
 bers he rooted almost out of the land, and wild beasts 
 of prey altogether; enjoining Ludwal, king of Wales, 
 to pay tiie yearly tribute of three hundred wolves, 
 which he did for two years together, till the third year 
 no more were to be found, nor ever after ; but his laws 
 may be read yet e.xtant. Whatever was the cause, 
 he was not crowned till the thirtieth of his age, but 
 then with great splendour and magnificence at the 
 city of Bath, in the feast of Pentecost. This year'' 
 died Swarling a monk of Croyland, in the hundred 
 and forty-second year of his age, and another soon 
 after him in the hundred and fifteenth ; in that fenny 
 and waterish air the more remarkable. King Edgar 
 the next* year went to Chester, and summoning to 
 his court there all the kings that held of him, 
 took homage of them : their names are Kened king 
 of Scots, Malcolm of Cumberland, Maccuse of the 
 Isles, five of Wales, Dufwal, Huwal, Grifith, Jacob, 
 Judethil ; these he had in such awe, that going one 
 day into a galley, he caused them to take each man 
 his oar, and row him down the river Dee, while he 
 himself sat at the stern ; which might be done in mer- 
 riment, and easily obeyed ; if with a serious brow, 
 discovered rather vain-glory, and insulting haughtiness, 
 than moderation of min;!. And that he did it seriously 
 triumphing, appears by his words then uttered, that 
 his successors might then glory to be kings of England, 
 iirhen they had such honour done them. And perhaps 
 the divine power was displeased with him for taking 
 too much honour to liimself; since we read, that '^ the 
 year following he was taken out of this life by sick- 
 ness in the height of his glory and the prime of his 
 age, buried at Glaston abbey. The same year, as 
 Mat. West, relates, he gave to Kened, the Scottish 
 king, many rich presents, and the whole country of 
 Laudian, or Lothien, to hold of him on condition, that 
 he and his successors should repair to the English 
 court at high festivals when the king sat crowned ; 
 gave him also many lodging places by the way, which 
 till the days of Henry the second were still held by 
 the kings of Scotland. He was of stature not tall, 
 of body slender, yet so well made, that in strength he 
 chose to contend with such as were thought strongest, 
 and disliked nothing more, than that they should spare 
 him for respect, or fear to hurt him. Kened king of 
 Scots, then in the court of Edgar, sitting one day at 
 table, was beard to say jestingly among his servants, 
 he wondered how so many provinces could be held in 
 subjection by such a little dapper man : his words 
 were brought to the king's ear; he sends for Kened 
 as about some private business, and in talk draw- 
 ing him forth to a secret place, takes from under 
 his garment two swords, which he had brought with 
 him, gave one of them to Kened ; and now, saith he, 
 
 d Post Christ 973. S».»n. Ingulf. • PoM Cbrut. 974. Sax. «d. 
 
 it shall he tried which ought to be the subject ; for it 
 is shameful for a king to boast at table, and shrink in 
 tight. Kened much abashed fell presently at his feet, 
 and besought him to pardon what he had simply 
 spoken, no way intended to his dishonour or dis])arage- 
 mcnt; wherewith the king was satisfied. Camden, 
 in his description of Ireland, cites a charter of King 
 Edgar, wherein it appears he had in subjection all the 
 kingdoms of the isles as far as Norw:iy, and had sub- 
 dued the greatest part of Ireland with the city of Dub- 
 lin : but of this other writers make no mention. In 
 his youth having heard of Elfrida, daughter to Ordgar 
 duke of Devonshire much commended for her beauty, 
 he sent Earl Athelwold, whose loyalty he trusted most, 
 to see her ; intending, if she were found such as answer- 
 ed report, to demand her in marriage. He at the first 
 view taken with her presence, disloyally, as it oft hap- 
 pens in such employments, began to sue for himself; 
 and with consent of her parents obtained her. Re- 
 turning therefore with scarce an ordinary commenda- 
 tion of her feature, he easily took off the king's mind, 
 soon diverted another way. But the matter coming to 
 light how Athelwold had forestalled the king, and El- 
 frida's beauty more and more spoken of, the king now 
 heated not only with a relapse of love, but with a deep 
 sense of the abuse, yet dissembling his disturbance, 
 pleasantly told the earl, what day he meant to come 
 and visit him and his fair wife. The earl seemingly 
 assured his welcome, but in the mean while acquaint- 
 ing his wife, earnestly advised her to deform herself 
 what she might, either in dress or otherwise, lest the 
 king, whose amorous inclination was not unknown, 
 should chance to be attracted. She, who by this time 
 was not ignorant, how Athelwold had stepped between 
 her and the king, against his coming arrays herself 
 richly, using whatever art she could devise might ren- 
 der her the more amiable ; and it took effect. For the 
 king, inflamed with her love the more for that he had 
 been so long defrauded and robbed of her, resolved not 
 only to recover his intercepted right, but to punish the 
 interloper of his destined spouse ; and appointing with 
 him as was usual a day of hunting, drawn aside in a 
 forest now called Ilarcwood, smote him through with 
 a dart. Some censure this act as cruel and tyrannical, 
 but considered well, it may be judged more favourably, 
 and that no man of sensible spirit but in his place, 
 without extraordinary perfection, would hare done the 
 like : for next to life what worse treason could have been 
 committed against him ? It chanced that the earl's 
 base son coming by upon the fact, the king sternly 
 asked him how he liked his game ; he subniissly an- 
 swering, that whatsoever pleased the king, must not 
 displease him; the king returned to his wonted tem- 
 per, took an affection to the youth, and ever after 
 highly favoured him, making amends in the son for 
 what he had done to the father. Elfrida forthwith he 
 took to wife, who to expiate her former husband's 
 death, though therein she had no hand, covered the 
 place of his bloodshed with a monastery of nuns to 
 sing over him. Another fault is laid to his charge, ii<' 
 
 f Post C hrUt. 975. 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 543 
 
 way excusable, that he took a virgin Wilfrida by force 
 out of the nunnery, where she was placed by her 
 friends to avoid his pursuit, and kept her as his concu- 
 bine : but lived not obstinately in the offence ; for 
 sharply reproved by Dunstan, he submitted to seven 
 years penance, and for that time to want his corona- 
 tion : but why be bad it not before, is left unwritten. 
 Another story there goes of Edgar fitter for a novel 
 than a history; but as I find it in Malmsbury, so I re- 
 late it. While he was yet unmarried, in his youth he 
 abstained not from women, and coming on a day to 
 Andover, caused a duke's daughter there dwelling, re- 
 ported rare of beauty, to be brought to him. The 
 mother not daring flatly to deny, yet abhorring that 
 her daughter should be so deflowered, at fit time of 
 night sent in her attire one of her waiting maids : a 
 maid it seems not unhandsome nor unwitty ; who sup- 
 plied the place of her young lady. Night passed, the 
 maid going to rise but daylight scarce yet appearing, 
 was by the king asked why she made such haste; she 
 answered, to do the work which her lady had set her; 
 at which the king wondering, and with much ado 
 staying her to unfold the riddle, for he took her to be 
 the duke's daughter, she falling at his feet besought 
 him, that since at the command of her lady she came 
 to his bed, and was enjoyed by him, he would be 
 pleased in recompenco to set her free from the hard 
 Service of her mistress. Thp king a while standing in 
 a study whether he had best be angry or not, at length 
 turning all to a jest, took the maid away with him, ad- 
 vanced her above the lady, loved her, and accompanied 
 with her only, till he married Elfrida. These only are 
 his faults upon record, rather to be wondered how they 
 were so few, and so soon left, he coming at sixteen to 
 the licence of a sceptre ; and that his virtues were so 
 many and mature, he dying before the age wherein 
 wisdom can in others attain to any ripeness : however, 
 with him died all the Saxon glory. From henceforth 
 nothing is to be heard of but their decline and ruin 
 under a double conquest, and the causes foregoing; 
 which, not to blur or taint the praises of their former 
 actions and liberty well defended, shall stand severally 
 related, and will be more than long enough for another 
 book. 
 
 THE SIXTH BOOK. 
 
 Edward the Younger. 
 
 Edward, the eldest son of Edgar by Egelfleda his 
 first wife, the daughter of duke Ordmer, was according 
 to right and his father's will placed in the throne ; 
 Elfrida, his second wife, and her faction only repining, 
 who laboured to have had her son Ethelred, a child of 
 seven years, preferred before him ; that she under that 
 pretence might have ruled all. Meanwhile comets 
 were seen in heaven, portending not famine only, 
 
 a Florent. Sim. Dun. b Post Christ. 716. Malms. 
 
 which followed the next year, but the troubled state of 
 the whole realm not long after to ensue. The troubles 
 begun in Edwin's days, between monks and secular 
 priests, now revived and drew on either side many of 
 the nobles into parties. For Elfere duke of the Mer- 
 cians, with many other peers, corrupted as is said with 
 gifts,** drove the monks out of those monasteries where 
 Edgar had placed them, and in their stead put secular 
 priests with their wives. But Ethelwin duke of East- 
 Angles, with his brother Elfwold, and earl Britnorth, 
 opposed them, and gathering an army defended the 
 abbeys of East-Angles from such intruders. To ap- 
 pease these tumults, a synod was called at Winchester; 
 and, nothing there concluded, a general council both 
 of nobles and prelates was held at Cain in Wiltshire, 
 where while the dispute was hot, but chiefly against 
 Dunstan, the room wherein they sat fell upon their 
 heads, killing some, maiming others, Dunstan only 
 escaping upon a beam that fell not, and the king ab- 
 sent by reason of his tender age. This accident quiet- 
 ed the controversy, and brought both parts to hold with 
 Dunstan and the monks. Meanwhile the king ad- 
 dicted to a religious life, and of a mild spirit, simply 
 permitted all things to the ambitious will of his step- 
 mother and her son Ethelred : to whom she, displeased 
 that the name only of king was wanting, practised 
 thenceforth to remove King Edward out of the way ; 
 which in this manner she brought about. Edward on 
 a day wearied with hunting, thirsty and alone, while 
 his attendants followed the dogs, hearing that Ethelred 
 and his mother lodged at Corvesgate, (Corfe castle, 
 saith Camden, in the isle of Purbeck,) innocently went 
 thither. She with all show of kindness welcoming 
 him, commanded drink to be brought forth, for it seems 
 he lighted not from his horse ; and while he was drink- 
 ing, caused one of her servants, privately before in- 
 structed, to stab him with a poniard. The poor youth, 
 who little expected such iinkindness there, turning 
 speedily the reins, fled bleeding; till through loss of 
 blood falling from his horse, and expiring, yet held 
 with one foot in the stirrup, he was dragged along the 
 way, traced by his blood, and buried without honour 
 at Werham, having reigned about three years : but the 
 place of his burial not long after grew famous for 
 miracles. After which by duke Elfere (who, as 
 Malmsbury saith,'> bad a hand in his death) he was 
 royally interred at Skepton or Shaftsbury. The mur- 
 deress Elfrida, at length repenting, spent the residue 
 of her days in sorrow and great penance. 
 
 ETHELRED. 
 
 Ethelred, second son of Edgar by Elfrida, (for 
 Edmund died a child,) his brother Edward wickedly 
 removed, was now next in right to succeed,"^ and ac- 
 cordingly crowned at Kingston : reported by some, fair 
 of visage, comely of person, elegant of behaviour;'* but 
 the event will show, that with many sluggish and ig- 
 noble vices he quickly shamed his outside ; born and 
 prolonged a fatal mischief of the people, and the ruin 
 c Post Christ. 979. Malms. d Florent. Sim, Dun. 
 
544 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book VI. 
 
 of bis country ; whereof he g'ave early si^pis from his 
 first infancy, bewraying the font and water while the 
 bishop was baptizing' him. Whereat Dunstan much 
 troubled, for be stood by and saw it, to them next him 
 broke into these words, " By God and God's mother, 
 this boy will prove a sliig-g'ard." Another thiny is 
 written of hinj in bis childhood ; which arjjued no bad 
 nature, that hearing of his brother Edward's cruel 
 death, he made loud lamentation ; but his furious 
 mother, offended therewith, and having no rod at hand, 
 beat him so with great wax-candles, that he hated the 
 sight of them ever after. Dunstan though unwilling 
 set the crown upon his head ; but at the same time 
 foretold openly, as is reported, the great evils that were 
 to come upon him and the land, in avengement of his 
 brother's innocent blood." And about the same time, 
 one midnight, a cloud sometimes bloody, sometimes 
 fiery, was seen over all England; and within three 
 years f the Danish tempest, which had long surceased, 
 revolved again upon this island. To the more ample 
 relating' whereof, the Danish history, at least their 
 latest and diligentest historian, as neither from the first 
 landing of Danes, in the reign of West-Saxon Brithric, 
 so now again from first to last, contributes nothing; 
 busied more than enough to make out the bare names 
 and successions of their uncertain kings, and their 
 small actions, at home : unless out of him I should 
 transcribe what he takes, and I better may, from our 
 own annals ; the surer and the sadder witnesses of their 
 doings here, not glorious, as they vainly boast, but 
 most inhumanly barbarous. 8 For the Danes well un- 
 derstanding that England had now a slothful king to 
 their wish, first landing at Southampton from seven 
 great ships, took the town, spoiled the country, and 
 carried away with them great pillage ; nor was De- 
 vonshire and Cornwall uninfested on theshore,'' pirates 
 of Norway also harried the coast of West-chester:'and 
 to add a worse calamity, the city of London was burnt, 
 casually or not, is not written, k It chanced four years 
 after, that Ethel red besieged Rochester; some way or 
 other offended by the bishop thereof Dunstan, not 
 approving the cause, sent to warn him that he provoke 
 not St. Andrew the patron of that city, nor waste his 
 lands; an old craft of the clergy to secure their 
 church-lands, by entailing them on some Saint: the 
 king not hearkening, Dunstan, on this condition that 
 the siege might be raised, sent him a hundred pounds, 
 the money was accepted and the siege dissolved. Dun- 
 stan, reprehending his avarice, sent him again this 
 word, " because thou hast respected money more than 
 religion, the evils which I foretold shall the sooner 
 come upon thee ; but not in my days, for so God hath 
 spoken." The next year was calamitous,' bringing 
 strange fluxes upon men, and murrain upon cattle, 
 m Dunstan the year following died, a strenuous bishop, 
 zealous without dread of person, and for aught appears, 
 the best of many ages, if he busied not himself too 
 much in secular affairs. He was chaplain at first to 
 King Athelstan, and Edmund who succeeded, much 
 
 e Sim. Dun. 
 
 gj-jidmer. Florent h Hoved. 
 
 Pom CbriM. geo. Malint. Intuit. 
 
 f Post Christ. 9H2. Malms. 
 
 Sim. Dun. Hovctl. 
 
 1 Post Christ. 967. Malms. 
 
 employed in court affairs, till envied by some who laid 
 many things to his charge, he was by Edmund forbid- 
 den the court ; but by the earnest mediation, saith In- 
 gulf, of Turketul the chancellor, received at length to 
 favour, and made abbot of Glaston ; lastly by Edgar 
 and the general vote, archbishop of Canterbury. Not 
 long after his death, the Danes arriving in Devonshire 
 were met by Goda lieutenant of that country, and 
 Strenwold a valiant leader, who put back the Danes, 
 but with loss of their own lives. " The third year fol- 
 lowing, under the conduct of Justin and Guthmund 
 the son of Steytan, they landed and spoiled Ipswich, 
 fought with Britnoth duke of the East-Angles about 
 Maldon, where they slew him ; the slaughter else had 
 been equal on both sides. These and the like depre- 
 dations on every side the English not able to resist, by 
 council of Siric then archbishop of Canterbury, and 
 two dukes Ethelward and AllVic, it was thought best 
 for the present to buy that with silver, which they 
 could not gain with their iron ; and ten thousand 
 pounds was paid to the Danes for peace. Which for 
 a while contented ; but taught them the ready way 
 how easiest to come by more. oThe next year but one, 
 they took by storm and rifled Bebbanburg, an ancient 
 city near Durham : sailing thence to the mouth of 
 Humber, they wasted both sides thereof, Yorkshire 
 and Lindsey, burning and destroying all before them. 
 Against these went out three noblemen, Frana, Frithe- 
 gist, and Godwin ; but being all Danes by the father's 
 side, willingly began flight, and forsook their own 
 forces betrayed to the enemy, p No less treachery was 
 at sea ; for Alfric, the son of Elfer duke of Mercia, whom 
 the king for some offence had banished, but now recall- 
 ed, sent from London with a fleet to surprise the Danes, 
 in some place of disadvantage, gave them over night 
 intelligence thereof, then fled to them himself; which 
 his fleet, saith Florent, perceiving, pursued, took the 
 ship, but missed of his person ; the Londoners by 
 chance grappling with the East-Angles made them 
 fewer, saith my author, by many thousands. Others 
 say,i that by this notice of Alfric the Danes not only 
 escaped, but with a greater fleet set upon the English, 
 took many of their ships, and in triumph brought them 
 up the Thames, intending to besiege London : for An- 
 laf king of Norway, and Swane of Denmark, at the 
 head of these, came with ninety-four galleys. The 
 king, for this treason of Alfric, put out his son's eyes; 
 but the Londoners both by land and water so valiantly 
 resisted their besiegers, that they were forced in one 
 day, with great loss, to give over. But what they 
 could not on the city, they wrecked themselves on the 
 countries round about, wasting with sword and fire all 
 Essex, Kent, and Sussex. Thence horsing their foot, 
 diffused far wider their outrageous incursions, without 
 mercy either to sex or age. The slothful king, instead 
 of warlike opposition in the field, sends ambassadors 
 to treat about another payment ;'^ the sum promised 
 was now sixteen thousand pounds; till which paid,' 
 the Danes wintered at Southampton ; Ethelred in- 
 
 ns Post Christ. 988. Malms, 
 o Post Christ. 99S. Sim. Dun. 
 q I'Obt Christ. Wi. Sim. Duu. 
 
 n Post Christ. 991. Sim. Dtin 
 
 p Floreut. IluntingiU 
 
 r Malms. x 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 545 
 
 yiting" Anlaf to rome and visit him at Andover,* where 
 he was royally entertained, some say baptized, or 
 
 confirmed, adopted son by the king, and dismissed 
 with great presents, promising by oath to depart and 
 molest the kingdom no more;t which he performed; 
 but the calamity ended not so, for after some inter- 
 mission of their rage for three years," the other navy 
 of Danes sailing about to the west, entered Severn, 
 and wasted one while South Wales, then Cornwall 
 and Devonshire, till at length they wintered about 
 Tavistock. For it were an endless work to relate 
 how they wallowed up and down to every par- 
 ticular place, and to repeat as oft what devasta- 
 tions they wrought, what desolations left behind 
 them, easy to be imagined. * In sum, the next year 
 they afflicted Dorsetshire, Hampshire, and the Isle of 
 Wight ; by the English many resolutions were taken, 
 many armies raised, but either betrayed by the false- 
 hood, or discouraged by the weakness, of their leaders, 
 they were put to the rout or disbanded themselves. For 
 soldiers most commonly are as their commanders, with- 
 out much odds of valour in one nation or other, only as 
 they are more or less wisely disciplined and conducted. 
 y The following year brought them back upon Kent, 
 where they entered Med way, and besieged Rochester; 
 but the Kentish men assembling gave them a sharp 
 encounter, yet that sufficed not to hinder them from 
 doing as they had done in other places. Against these 
 depopulations the king levied an army; but the un- 
 skilful leaders not knowing what to do with it when 
 they had it, did but drive out time, burdening and im- 
 poverishing the people, consuming the public treasure, 
 and more emboldening the enemy, than if they had sat 
 quietly at home. What cause moved the Danes next* 
 year to pass into Normandy, is not recorded ; but that 
 they returned thence more outrageous than before. 
 Meanwhile the king, to make some diversion, under- 
 takes an expedition both by land and sea into Cumber- 
 land, where the Danes were most planted ; there and 
 in the Isle of Mau, or, as Camden saith, Anglesey, 
 imitating his enemies in spoiling and unpeopling. The 
 Danes from Normandy, arriving in the river Ex, laid 
 siege to Exeter ; » but the citizens, as those of London, 
 valorously defending themselves, they wrecked their 
 anger, «K before, on the villages round about. The 
 country people of Somerset and Devonshire assembling 
 themselves at Penho, shewed their readiness, but want- 
 ed a head ; and besides being then but few in number, 
 were easily put to flight ; the enemy plundering all at 
 will, with loaded spoils passed into the Isle of Wight; 
 from whence all Dorsetshire and Hampshire felt 
 again their fury. 'I he Saxon annals write, that before 
 their coming to Exeter, the Hampshire men had a 
 bickering with them,'' wherein Ethel ward the king's 
 general was slain, adding other things hardly to be 
 understood, and in one ancient copy; so end. Ethel- 
 red, whom no adversity could awake from his soft and 
 
 luggish life, still coming by the worse at fighting, by 
 
 he advice of his peers not unlike himself, sends one of 
 
 • MHlms. t Iluntingd. u Post Christ. 997- Sim. Dun. 
 
 Post Christ. 998. Sim. Duii. y Post Christ. 999. Sim. Dun. 
 
 z Post Christ. looO. Sim. Dun. a Post Christ. 1001. Sim, Dun. 
 
 his gay courtiers, though looking loftily, to stoop 
 basely, and propose a third tribute to the Danes : they 
 willingly hearken, but the sum is enhanced now to 
 twenty-four thousand pounds, and paid ; the Danes 
 thereupon abstaining from hostility. But the king, to 
 strengthen his house by some potent affinity, marries 
 Emina,*^ whom the Saxons call Elgiva, daughter of 
 Richard duke of Normandy. With him Ethelred for- 
 merly had war, or no good correspondence, as appears 
 by a letter of pope John the fifteenth,^ who made peace 
 between them about eleven years before ; puffed up 
 now with his supposed access of strength by this affi- 
 nity, he caused the Danes all over England, though 
 now living peaceably,^ in one day perfidiously to be 
 massacred, both men, women, and children ; sending 
 private letters to every town and city, whereby they 
 might be ready all at the same hour; which till the 
 appointed time (being the ninth of July) was concealed 
 with great silence,^ and performed with much unani- 
 mity ; so generally hated were the Danes. Mat. West, 
 writes, that this execution upon the Danes was ten 
 years after; that Huna, one of Ethelred's chief cap- 
 tains, complaining of the Danish insolences in time of 
 peace, their pride, their ravishing of matrons and vir- 
 gins, incited the king to this massacre, which in the 
 madness of rage made no difference of innocent or no- 
 cent. Among these, Gunhildis the sister of Swane was 
 not spared, though much deserving not pity only, but 
 all protection: she, with her husband earl Palingus 
 coming to live in England, and receiving Christianity, 
 had her husband and young son slain before her face, 
 herself then beheaded, foretelling and denouncing 
 that her blood would cost England dear. * Some say 
 this was done by the traitor Edric, to whose custody 
 she was committed ; but the massacre was some years 
 before Edric's advancement; and if it were done by 
 him afterwards, it seems to contradict the private cor- 
 respondence which he was thought to hold with the 
 Danes. For Swane, breathing revenge, hasted the next 
 year into England,'' and by the treason or negligence 
 of Count Hugh, whom Emma had recommended to the 
 government of Devonshire, sacked the city of Exeter, 
 her wall from east to west-gate broken down : after 
 this wasting Wiltshire, the people of that county, and 
 of Hampshire, came together in great numbers with 
 resolution stoutly to oppose him ; but Alfric their gene- 
 ral, whose son's eyes the king had lately put out, madly 
 thinking to revenge himself on the king, by ruining 
 his own country, when he should have ordered his 
 battle, the enemy being at hand, feigned himself taken 
 with a vomiting; whereby his army in great discon- 
 tent, destitute of a commander, turned from the enemy: 
 who straight took Wilton and Salisbury, carrying the 
 pillage thereof to the ships. ' Thence the next year 
 landing on the coast of Norfolk, he wasted the country, 
 and set Norwich on fire; Ulfketel duke of the East- 
 Angles, a man of great valour, not having space to 
 gather his forces, after consultation had, thought it 
 best to make peace with the Dane, which he breaking 
 
 b Post Christ. 1002. Sim. Dun. c Malms. d Calvis. 
 
 e Florent. Huntinijd. f Calvis. g Mat. West, 
 
 h Post Christ. 1003. Sim. Dun. i Post Christ. 1004. Sim. Dun. 
 
546 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book Vi. 
 
 within three weeks, issued silently out of his ships, 
 came to Thelford, staid there a niijht, and in the morn- 
 ing left it flaming'. Ulfketel, liearinfj tliis, command- 
 ed some to go and break or bum his ships ; but they 
 not daring or neglecting, he in the mean while with 
 what secresy and speed was possible, drawing together 
 bis forces, went out against the enemy, and gave them a 
 fierce onset retreating to their ships : but much inferi- 
 our in number, many of the chief East-Angles there 
 lost their lives. Nor did the Danes come off without 
 great slaughter of their own; confessing that they 
 never met in England with so rough a charge. The 
 next year,'' whom war couM not, a great famine drove 
 Swane out of the land. But the summer following,' 
 another great fleet of Danes entered the port of Sand- 
 wich, thence poured out over all Kent and Sussex, 
 made prey of what they found. The king levying an 
 army out of Mercia, and the West-Saxons, took on him 
 for once the manhood to go out and face them^ but 
 they, who held it safer to live by rapine, than to hazard 
 a battle, shifting lightly from place to place, frustrated 
 the slow motions of a heavy camp, following their 
 wonted course of robbery, then running to their ships. 
 Thus all autumn they wearied out the king's army, 
 which gone home to winter, they carried all their pil- 
 lage to the Isle of Wight, and there staid till Christ- 
 mas ; at which time the king being in Shropshire, and 
 but ill employed, (for by the procurement of Edric, he 
 caused, as is thought, Alfhelm, a noble duke, treacher- 
 ously to be slain,*" and the eyes of his two sons to be 
 put out,) they came forth again, overrunning Hamp- 
 shire and Berkshire, as far as Reading and Walling- 
 ford : thence to Ashdune, and other places thereabout, 
 neither known nor of tolerable pronunciation ; and re- 
 turning by another way, found many of the people in 
 arms by the river Kenet ; but making their way 
 through, they got safe with vast booty to their ships. 
 "The king and his courtiers wearied out with their last 
 summer's jaunt after the nimble Danes to no purpose, 
 which by proof they found too toilsome for their soft 
 bones, more used to beds and couches, had recourse to 
 their last and only remedy, their coffers; and send now 
 the fourth time to buy a dishonourable peace, every 
 time still dearer, not to be had now under thirty-six 
 thousand pound (for the Danes knew how to milk such 
 easy kine) in name of tribute and expenses : which out 
 of the people over all England, already half beggared, 
 was extorted and paid. About the same time Ethelred 
 advanced Edric, sumamed Streon, from obscure con- 
 dition to be duke of Mercia, and marry Edgitha the 
 king's daughter. The cause of his advancement, 
 Florent of Worcester, and Mat. West, attribute to his 
 great wealth, gotten by fine policies and a plausible 
 tongue : be proved a main accessory to the ruin of 
 England, as his actions will soon declare. Ethelred 
 the next year," somewhat rousing himself, ordained 
 that every three hundred and ten hides (a hide is so 
 much land as one plow can sufficiently till) should set 
 out a ship or galley, and every nine hides find a corslet 
 
 k Pom Chrbt. 1006. Sim. Dun. 
 m Florent. 
 
 1 Post Christ. 1006. Sim. Dun. 
 n Post Christ 1U07. Sim. Dun. 
 
 and headpiece : new ships in every port were built, 
 victualled, fraught >vith stout mariners and ^soldiers, 
 and appointed to meet all at Sandwich. A man might 
 now think that all would go well ; when suddenly a 
 new mischief sprung up, dissension among the great 
 ones ; which brought all this diligence to as little suc- 
 cess as at other times before. Birthric, the brother of 
 Edric, falsely accused Wulnoth, a great officer set over 
 the South-Saxons, who, fearing the potency of his ene- 
 mies, with twenty ships got to sea, and practised piracy 
 on the coast. Against whom, reported to be in a place 
 where he might be easily surprised, Birthric sets forth 
 with eighty ships; all which, driven back by a tempest 
 and wrecked upon the shore, were burnt soon after by 
 Wulnoth. Disheartened with this misfortune, the 
 king returns to London, the rest of his navy after him ; 
 and all this great preparation to nothing. Whereupon 
 Turkill, a Danish earl, came with a navy to the isle of 
 Tanet,P and in August a far greater, led by Heming 
 and Ilaf, joined with him. Thence coasting to Sand- 
 wich, and landed, they went onward and began to 
 assault Canterbury ; but the citizens and East-Kentish 
 men, coming to composition with them for three thou- 
 sand pounds, they departed thence to the Isle of Wight, 
 robbing and burning by the way. Against these the 
 king levies an army through all tlie land, and in seve- 
 ral quarters places them nigh the sea, but so unskilfully 
 or unsuccessfully, that the Danes were not thereby 
 hindered from exercising their wonted robberies. It 
 happened that the Danes were one day gone up into 
 the country far from their ships ; the king having notice 
 thereof, thought to intercept them in their return ; his 
 men were resolute to overcome or die, time and place 
 advantageous; but where courage and fortune was not 
 wanting, there wanted loyalty among them. Edric 
 with subtile arguments, that had a show of deep policy, 
 disputed and persuaded the simplicity of his fellow 
 counsellors, that it would be best consulted at that time 
 to let the Danes pass without ambush or interception. 
 The Danes, where they expected danger finding none, 
 passed on with great joy and booty to their ships. 
 After this, sailing about Kent, they lay that winter in 
 the Thames, forcing Kent and Essex to contribution, 
 ofttimes attempting the city of London, but repulsed 
 as oft to their great loss. Spring begun, leaving their 
 ships, they passed through Chiltern wood into Oxford- 
 shire,"! burnt the city, and thence returning with di- 
 vided forces, wasted on both sides the Thames ; but 
 hearing that an army from London was marched out 
 against them, tiiey on the north side passing the river 
 at Stanes, joined with them on the south into one 
 body, and enriched with great spoils, came back through 
 Surrey to their ships ; which all the Lent-time they 
 repaired. After Easter sailing to the East-Angles they 
 arrived at Ipswich, and came to a place called Ring- 
 mere, where they heard that Ulfketel with his forces 
 lay, who with a sharp encounter soon entertained. them; 
 but his men at length giving back, through the sub- 
 tlety of a Danish servant among them who began the 
 
 o Post Christ. 1006. Sim. Dun. p Post Christ. 1009. Sim. Dan. 
 
 q Post Christ. 1010. Sim. Dun. Florent 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 547 
 
 flig-ht, lost the field ; tliougli the men of Cambrids^e- 
 sbire stood to it valiantly. In this battle Ethelstan, 
 the king's son-in-law, with many other noblemen, were 
 slain; whereby the Danes, without more resistance, 
 three months tog-ether had the spoiling of those coun- 
 tries and all the fens, burnt Thetford and Grautbrig, 
 or Cambridge; thence to a hilly place not far off, called 
 by Huntingdon, Balesham, by Camden, Gogmagog 
 hills, and the villages thereabout, they turned their 
 fury, slaying all they met save one man, who gettim; 
 up into a steeple, is said to have defended himself 
 against the whole Danish army. They ^therefore so 
 leaving him, their foot by sea, their horse by land 
 through Essex, returned back laden to their ships left 
 in the Thames. But many days passed not between, 
 when sallying again out of their ships as out of savage 
 dens, they plundered over again all Oxfordshire, and 
 added to their prey Buckingham, Bedford, and Hert- 
 fordshire ;■" then like wild beasts glutted returning to 
 their caves. A third excursion they made into Nor- 
 thamptonshire, burnt Northampton, ransacking the 
 country round ; then as to fresli pasture betook them 
 to the West-Saxons, and in like sort harassing all 
 Wiltshire, returned, as I said before, like wild beasts 
 or rather sea monsters to their water-stables, accomplish- 
 ing by Christmas the circuit of their whole year's good 
 deeds ; an unjust and inhuman nation, who, receiving 
 or not receiving tribute where none was owing them, 
 made such destruction of mankind, and rapine of their 
 livelihood, as is a misery to read. Yet here they ceased 
 not ; for the next year* repeating the same cruelties on 
 both sides the Thames, one way as far as Huntingdon, 
 the other as far as Wiltshire and Southampton, soli- 
 cited again by the king for peace, and receiving their 
 demands both of tribute and contribution, they slighted 
 their faith ; and in the beginning of September laid 
 siege to Canterbury. On the twentieth day, by the 
 treachery of Almere the archdeacon, they took part of 
 it and burnt it, committing all sorts of massacre as a 
 sport ; some they tlirew over the wall, others into the 
 fire, hung some by the privy members; infants, pulled 
 from their mothers' breasts, were either tossed on spears, 
 or carts drawn over them ; matrons and virgins by the 
 hair dragged and ravished. ' Alfage the grave arch- 
 bishop above others hated of the Danes, as in all coun- 
 sels and actions to his might their known opposer, 
 taken, wounded, imprisoned in a noisome ship ; the 
 multitude are tithed, and every tenth only spared. 
 " Early tlie next 3-ear before Easter, while Ethelred 
 and his peers were assembled at London, to raise now 
 the fifth tribute amounting to forty-eight thousand 
 pound, the Danes at Canterbury propose to the arch- 
 bishop,^ who had been now seven months their prisoner, 
 life and liberty, if he paid them three thousand pound : 
 which he refusing as not able of himself, and not will- 
 ing to extort it from his tenants, is permitted till tlie 
 next Sunday to consider; then hauled before the coun- 
 sel, of whom Turkill was chief, and still refusing, they 
 rise, most of them being drunk, and beat him with the 
 
 r HuntinKtl. 
 
 t Eadtner. Malms. 
 
 s Post Christ. lOlt. Sim. Dtin. 
 u Post Christ. 1012. Sim. Dun. 
 2 N 
 
 blunt side of their axes, then thrust forth deliver him 
 to be pelted with stones ; till one Thrun a converted 
 Dane, pitying him half dead, to put him out of pain, 
 with a pious impiety, at one stroke of his axe on the 
 head dispatched him. His body was carried to Lon- 
 don, and there buried, thence afterward removed to 
 Canterbury. By this time the tribute paid, and peace 
 so often violated sworn again by the Danes, they dis- 
 persed their fleet ; forty-five of them, and Turkill their 
 chief, staid at London with the king, swore him allegi- 
 ance to defend his land against all strangers, on condi- 
 tion only to be fed and clothed by him. But this 
 voluntary friendship of Turkill was thought to be de- 
 ceitful, that staying under this pretence he gave intel- 
 ligence to Swane, when most it would be seasonable 
 to come, y In July therefore of the next year, King 
 Swane arriving at Sandwich, made no stay there, but 
 sailing first to Humber, thence into Trent, landed and 
 encamped at Gainsburrow ; whither without delay re- 
 paired to him the Northumbrians, with Uthred their 
 earl ; those of Lindsey also, then those of Fisburg, and 
 lastly all on the north of Watlingstreet (which is a 
 highway from east to west-sea) gave oath and hostages 
 to obey him. From whom he commanded horses and 
 provision for his army, taking with him besides bands 
 and companies of their choicest men ; and committing 
 to his son Canute the care of his fleet and hostages, he 
 marches towards the South-Mercians, commanding his 
 soldiers to exercise all acts of hostility ; with the terrour 
 whereof fully executed, he took in few days the city of 
 Oxford, then Winchester; thence tending to London, 
 in his hasty passage over the Thames, without seeking 
 bridge or ford, lost many of his men. Nor was his 
 expedition against London prosperous ; for assaying 
 all means by force or wile to take the city, wherein 
 the king then was, and Turkill with his Danes, he 
 was stoutly beaten off as at other times. Thence back 
 to Wallingford and Bath, directing his course, after 
 usual havoc made, he sat a while and refreshed his 
 army. There Ethclm, an earl of Devonshire, and 
 other great officers in the west, yielded him subjec- 
 tion. These things flowing to his wish, he betook 
 him to his navy, from that time styled and accounted 
 king of England ; if a tyrant, saith Simeon, may be 
 called a king. The Londoners also .sent him hostages, 
 and made their peace, for they feared his fury. Ethel- 
 red, tiius reduced to narrow compass, sent Emma his 
 queen, with his two sons had by her, and all his trea- 
 sure, to Richard II, her brother, duke of Normandy ; 
 himself with his Danish fleet abode some while at Green- 
 wich, then sailing to the Isle of Wight, passed after 
 Christmas into Normandy ; where he was honourably 
 received at Roan by the duke, though known to have 
 born himself churli.shly and proudly towards Emma his 
 sister, besides his dissolute company with other women. 
 Meanwhile Swane'' ceased not to exact almost insup- 
 portable tribute of the people, spoiling them when he 
 listed ; besides, the like did Turkill at Greenwich. The 
 next year beginning,* Swane sickens and dies ; some 
 
 X Kaflmer. 
 z Malms. 
 
 y Post Christ. 101.3. Sim. Dun. 
 a Post Christ. 1014. Sim. Dun. Mat. West. 
 
548 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book V i. 
 
 say terrified and smitten by an appearing- shape of St. 
 Edmund armed, wliosc church at Bury he had threat- 
 ened to demolish ; but the authority hereof relies only 
 upon the leg-end of St. Edmund. After his death the 
 Danish army and fleet made his son Canute their 
 king- : but tlie nobility and states of England sent mes- 
 sengers to Ethelred, declaring- that they preferred none 
 before their native sovereign, if he would promise to 
 govern them better than he had done, and with more 
 clemency. Whereat the king rejoicing sends over his 
 son Edward with embassadors, to court both high and 
 low, and win their love, promising largely to be their 
 mild and devoted lord, to consent in all things to their 
 will, follow their counsel, and whatever had been done 
 or spoken by any man against him, freely to pardon, 
 if they would loyally restore him to be their king. To 
 this the people cheerfully answered, and amity was 
 both promised and confirmed on both sides. An em- 
 bassy of lords is sent to bring back the king honour- 
 ably; he returns in Lent, and is joyfully received of 
 the people, marches with a strong army against Ca- 
 nute ; who having got horses and joined with the men 
 of Lindsey, was preparing to make spoil in the coun- 
 tries adjoining ; but by Ethelred unexpectedly coming 
 upon him, was soon driven to his ships, and his con- 
 federates of Lindsey, left to the anger of their country- 
 men, executed without mercy both by fire and sword. 
 Canute in all haste sailing back to Sandwich, took the 
 hostages given to his father from all parts of England, 
 and with slit noses, ears cropped, and hands chopped 
 off, setting them ashore, departed into Denmark. Yet 
 the people were not disburdened, for the king raised 
 out of them thirty thousand pound to pay his fleet of 
 Danes at Greenwich. To these evils the sea in Oc- 
 tober passed his bounds, overwhelming many towns in 
 England, and of their inhabitants many thousands. 
 ••The year following, an assembly being at Oxford, 
 Edric of Streon having invited two noblemen, Sigeferth 
 and Morcar, the sons of Eamgrun of Seavenburg, to 
 his lodging, secretly murdered them ; the king, for 
 what cause is unknown, seized their estates, and caused 
 Algith the wife of Sigeferth to be kept at Maidulfs- 
 burg, now Malmsbury ; whom Edmund the prince 
 there married against his father's mind, then went and 
 possessed their lands, making the people there subject 
 to him. Mat. Westm. saith, that these two were of 
 the Danes who had seated themselves in Northumber- 
 land, slain by Edric under colour of treason laid to 
 their charge. They who attended them without, 
 tumulting at the death of their masters,*^ were beaten 
 back; and driven into a church, defending themselves 
 were burnt there in the steeple. Meanwhile Canute 
 returning from Denmark with a great navy,'' two hun- 
 dred ships richly gilded and adorned, well fraught 
 with arms and all provision ; and, which Encomium 
 EmmtE mentions not, two other kings, Lachman of 
 Sweden, Olav of Norway, arrived at Sandwich : and, 
 as the same author then living writes, sent out spies to 
 discover what resistance on land was to be expected ; 
 
 b Pom Ctiri*t 1015. Sim. Dun. 
 
 d Lig«s £dw. CoDf. Tit deduct. N'onn. 
 
 c Malms. 
 
 who returned with certain report, that a great army of 
 English was in readiness to oppose them, Turkill, 
 who upon the arrival of these Danish powers kept faith 
 no longer with the English, but joining now will) Ca- 
 nute,* as it were now to reingratiate himself after his 
 revolt, whether real or complotted, counselled him 
 (being yet young) not to land, but to leave to him the 
 management of this first battle: the king assented, and 
 he with the forces which he had brought, and part of 
 those which arrived with Canute, landing to their wish, 
 encountered the English, though double in number, at 
 a place called Scorastan, and was at first beaten back 
 with much loss. But at length animating his men 
 with rage only and despair, obtained a clear victory, 
 which won him great reward and possessions from 
 Canute. But of this action no other writer makes 
 mention. From Sandwich therefore sailing about to 
 the river Frome, and there landing, over all Dorset, 
 Somerset, and Wiltshire he spread wasteful hostility.^ 
 The king lay then sick at Cosham in this county ; 
 though it may seem strange how he could lie sick there 
 in the midst of his enemies. Howbeit Edmund in one 
 part, and Edric of Streon in another, raised forces by 
 themselves ; but so soon as both armies were united, 
 the traitor Edric being found to practise against the 
 life of Edmund, he removed with his army from him ; 
 whereof the enemy took great advantage. Edric easily 
 enticing the forty ships of Danes to side with him, re- 
 volted to Canute : the West-Saxons also gave pledges, 
 and furnished him with horses. By which means the 8 
 year ensuing, he with Edric the traitor passing the 
 Thames at Creclad, about twelfthtide, entered into 
 Mercia, and especially Warwickshire, depopulating all 
 places in their way. Against these prince Edmund, 
 for his hardiness called Ironside, gathered an army ; 
 but the Mercians refused to fight unless Ethelred with 
 the Londoners came to aid them ; and so every man 
 returned home. After the festival, Edmund, gathering 
 another army, besought his father to come with the 
 Londoners, and what force besides he was able ; they 
 came with great strength gotten together, but being 
 come, and in a hopeful way of good success, it was told 
 the king, that unless he took the better heed, some of 
 his own forces would fall off and betray him. The 
 king daunted with this perhaps cunning whisper of the 
 enemy, disbanding his army, returns to London. Ed- 
 mund betook him into Northumberland, as some thought 
 to raise fresh forces ; but he with earl Utbred on the 
 one side, and Canute with Edric on the other, did little 
 else but waste the provinces; Canute to conquer them, 
 Edmund to punish them who stood neuter : for which 
 cause Stafford, Shropshire, and Leicestershire, felt 
 heavily his hand ; while Canute, who was ruining the 
 more southern shires, at length marched into Northum- 
 berland ; which Edmund hearing dismissed his forces, 
 and came to London. Uthred the earl hasted back to 
 Northumberland, and finding no other remedy, submit- 
 ted himself with all the Northumbrians, giving hostages 
 to Canute. Nevertheless by his command or connivance, 
 
 e Encom. Km. 
 
 ( Post Christ. 1016. Sim. Dun. 
 
 f Camd. 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 649 
 
 and the hand of one Turebrand a Danish lord, Uthred 
 was slain, and Iric another Dane made earl in his 
 stead. This Uthred, son of Walteof, as Simeon writes, 
 in his treatise of the sieg-e of Durham, in his youth ob- 
 tained a great victory against Malcolm, son of Kened 
 king of Scots, who with the whole power of his king- 
 dom was fallen into Northumberland, and laid siege to 
 Durham. Walteof the old earl, unable to resist, had 
 secured himself in Bebbanburg, a strong town; but 
 Uthred gathering an army raised the siege, slew most 
 of the Scots, their king narrowly escaping, and with 
 the heads of their slain fi,\ed upon poles beset round 
 the walls of Durham. The year of this exploit Simeon 
 clears not, for in 969, and in the reign of Ethelred, as 
 he affirms, it could not be. Canute by another way 
 returning southward, joyful of his success, before 
 Easter came back with all the army to his fleet. 
 About the end of April ensuing, Ethelred, after a 
 long, troublesome, and ill governed reign, ended his 
 days at London, and was buried in the church of 
 St. Paul. 
 
 EDMUND IRONSIDE. 
 
 After the decease of Ethelred, they of the nobility 
 who were then at London, together with the citizens, 
 chose *> Edmund his son (not by Emma, but a former 
 wife the daugiitcrof Earl Thored)in his father's room ; 
 but the archbishops, abbots, and n»any of the nobles 
 assembling together, elected Canute ; and coming to 
 Southampton where he then remained, renounced be- 
 fore him all the race of Ethelred, and swore him 
 fidelity: he also swore to them, in mattei-s both religi- 
 ous and secular, to be their faithful lord. ' But Ed- 
 mund, with all speed going to the West-Saxons, was 
 joyfully received of them as their king, and of many 
 other provinces b}- their example. Meanwhile Canute 
 about mid May came with his whole fleet up the river 
 to London ; then causing a great dike to be made on 
 the Surrey side, turned the stream, and drew his ships 
 thither west of the bridge; then begirting the city 
 with a broad and deep trench, assailed it on every 
 side ; but repulsed as before by the valorous defend- 
 ants, and in despair of success at that time, leaving 
 part of his army for the defence of his ships, with the 
 rest sped him to the West-Saxons, ere Edmund could 
 have time to assemble all his powers ; who yet with 
 such as were at hand, invoking divine aid, encountered 
 the Danes at Pen by Gillingham in Dorsetshire, and 
 put him to flight. After midsummer, increased with new 
 forces, he met with him again at a j)lace called Sheras- 
 tan, now Siiarstan ; but Edric, Alniar, and Algar, with 
 the Hampshire and Wiltshire men, then siding with 
 the Danes, he only maintained the fight, obstinately 
 fought on both sides, till night and weariness parted 
 them. Daylight returning renewed the conflict, where- 
 in the Danes appearing inferiour, Edric to dishearten 
 the English cuts off" the head of one Osmer, in counte- 
 nance and hair somewhat resembling the king, and 
 holding it up, cries aloud to the English, that Edmund 
 h Floreijt. Aeired in the life of Edw. Conf. i I'lorent. Sim, Dun. 
 
 being slain, and this his head, it was time for them to 
 fly; which fallacy Edmund perceiving, and openly 
 showing himself to his soldiers, by a spear thrown at 
 Edric, that missing him yet slew one next him,'^ and 
 through him another behind, they recovered heart, and 
 lay sore upon the Danes till night parted them as be- 
 fore : for ere the third mom, Canute, sensible of his 
 loss, marched away by stealth to his ships at London, 
 renewing there his leaguer. Some would have this 
 battle at Sherastan the same with that at Scorastan be- 
 fore mentioned, but the circumstance of time permits 
 not, that having been before the landing of Canute, 
 this a good while after, as by the process of things ap- 
 pears. From Sherastan or Sharstan Edmund returned 
 to the West-Saxons, whose valour Edric fearing lest it 
 might prevail against the Danes, sought pardon of his 
 revolt, and obtaining it swore loyalty to the king, who 
 now the third time coming with an army from the 
 West-Saxons to London, raised the siege, chasing Ca- 
 nute and his Danes to their ships. Then after two 
 days passing the Thames at Brentford, and so coming 
 on their backs, kept them so turned, and obtained the 
 victory ; then returns again to his West-Saxons, and 
 Canute to his siege, hut still in vain ; rising therefore 
 thence, he entered with his ships a river then called 
 Arenne; and from the banks thereof wasted Mercia; 
 thence their horse by land, their foot by ship came to 
 Medway. Edmund in the mean while with multiplied 
 forces out of many shires crossing again at Brentford, 
 came into Kent, seeking Canute ; encountered him at 
 Otford, and so defeated, that of his horse they who 
 escaped fled to the isle of Sheppey ; and a full victory 
 he had gained, had not Edric still the traitor by some 
 wile or other detained his pursuit: and Edmund, 
 who never wanted courage, here wanted prudence to 
 be so misled, ever after forsaken of his wonted for- 
 tune. Canute crossing with his army into Essex, 
 thence wasted Mercia worse than before, and with 
 heavy prey returned to his ships : them Edmund with 
 a collected army pursuing overtook at a place called 
 Assandune or Asseshill,' now Ashdown in flssex ; the 
 battle on either side was fought with great vehemence ; 
 but perfidious Edric perceiving the victory to incline 
 towards Edmund, with that part of the army which 
 was under him fled, as he had promised Canute, and 
 left the king overmatched with numbers : by which de- 
 sertion the English were overthrown, duke Alfric, duke 
 Godwin, and Ulfkctel the valiant duke of East-Angles, 
 with a great part of the nobility slain, so as the Eng- 
 lish of a long time had not received a greater blow. 
 Yet after a while Edmund, not absurdly called Iron- 
 side, preparing again to try his fortune in another field, 
 was hindered by Edric and others of his faction, advis- 
 ing him to make peace and divide the kingdom with 
 Canute. To which Edmund overruled, a treaty ap- 
 pointed, and pledges mutually given, both kings met 
 together at a place called Deorhirst in Gloucestershire; 
 "' Edmund on the west side of Severn, Canute on the 
 east, with their armies, then both in person wafted into 
 an island, at that time called Olanege," now Alney, in 
 k Malnis. I Camd, m Camd. n Camd, 
 
&>0 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGIAND. 
 
 Book VI. 
 
 the midst of the river ; sweariiinf amity and brother- 
 hood, they parted the kingdom between them. Then 
 interchanjrinjj arms and the habit they wore, assessing 
 also what pay should be allotted to the navy, they de- 
 parted each his way. Concerning- this interview and 
 the cause thereof others write otherwise ; Malmsbury, 
 that Edmund grieving' at the loss of so much blood 
 sj)ilt for the ambition only of two men striving who 
 should reign, of his own accord sent to Canute, offering 
 him single combat, to prevent in their own cause the 
 effusion of more blood than their own ; that Canute, 
 though of courage enough, yet not unwisely doubting 
 to adventure his body of small timber, against a man 
 of iron sides, refused the combat, offering to divide the 
 kingdom. This offer pleasing both armies, Edmund 
 was not difficult to consent ; and the decision was, that 
 he as his hereditary kingdom should rule the West- 
 Saxons and all the South, Canute the Mercians and 
 the North. Huntingdon followed by Mat. Westm. re- 
 lates, that the peers on every side wearied out with con- 
 tinual warfare, and not refraining to affirm openly that 
 they two who expected to reign singly, had most rea- 
 son to fight singly, the kings were content; the island 
 was their lists, the combat knightly ; till Knute, find- 
 ing himself too weak, began to parley, which ended as 
 is said before. After which the Londoners bought their 
 peace of the Danes, and permitted them to winter in 
 the city. But King Edmund about the feast of St. An- 
 drew unexpectedly deceased at London, and was buried 
 near to Edgar his grandfather at Glaston. The cause 
 of his so sudden death is uncertain ; common fame, 
 saith Malmsbury, lays the guilt thereof upon Edric, 
 who to please Canute, allured with promise of reward 
 two of the king's privy chamber, though at first ab- 
 horring the fact, to assassinate him at the stool, by 
 thrusting a sharp iron into his hiuder parts. Hunting- 
 don, and Mat. Westm. relate it done at Oxford by the 
 son of Edric, and something vary in the manner, not 
 worth recital. Edmund dead, Canute meaning to reign 
 sole king of England, calls to him all the dukes, ba- 
 rons, and bishops of the land, cunningly demanding 
 of them who were witnesses what agreement was made 
 between him and Edmund dividing the kingdom, whe- 
 ther the sons and brothers of Edmund were to govern 
 the West-Saxons after him, Canute living ? They who 
 understood his meaning, and feared to undergo his 
 anger, timorously answered, that Edmund they knew 
 had left no part thereof to his sons or brethren, living 
 or dying; but that he intended Canute should be their 
 guardian, till they came to age of reigning. Simeon 
 affirms, that for fear or hope of reward they attested 
 what was not true : notwithstanding which, he put 
 many of them to death not long after. 
 
 CANUTE, OR KNUTE. 
 
 Canute having thus sounded the nobility ,<> and by 
 them understood, received their oath of fealty, they the 
 pledge of his bare hand, and oath from the Danish no- 
 bles; whereupon the house of Edmund was renounced, 
 
 o Po»t Cbrisf. 1017. Sim. Dun. Sax. an. p Kncom. F,m. Ingulf. 
 
 and Canute crowned. Then they enacted, that Edwi 
 brother of Edmund, a prince of great hope, should be 
 banished the realm. But Canute, not thinking himself 
 secure while Edwi lived, consulted with Edric how to 
 make him away ; vi'ho told him of one Ethelward a de- 
 cayed nobleman, likeliest to do the work. Ethelward 
 sent for, and tempted by the king in private with 
 largest rewards, but abhorring in his mind the deed, 
 promised to do it when he saw his opportunity ; and so 
 still deferred it. But Edwi afterwards received into 
 favour, as a snare, was by him, or some other of his 
 false friends, Canute contriving it, the same year slain. 
 Edric also counselled him to dispatch Edward and Ed- 
 mund, the sons of Ironside; but the king doubting 
 that the fact would seem too foul done in England, 
 sent them to the king of Sweden, with like intent ; but 
 he, disdaining the office, sent them for better safety to 
 Solomon king of Hungary; where Edmund at length 
 died, but Edward married Agatha daughter to Henry 
 the German emperor. A digression in the laws of Ed- 
 ward Confessor under the title of Lex Noricorum saith, 
 that this Edward, for fear of Canute, fled of his own 
 accord to Malesclot king of the Rugians, who received 
 him honourably, and of that country gave him a wife. 
 Canute, settled in his throne, divided the government 
 of his kingdom into four parts ; the West-Saxons to 
 himself, the East-Angles to earl Turkill, the Mercians 
 to Edric, the Northumbrians to Iric; then made peace 
 with all princes round about him, and, his former wife 
 being dead, in July married Emma, the widow of king 
 Ethelred. The Christmas following was an ill feast to 
 Edric, of whose treason the king having now made use 
 as much as served his turn, and fearing himself to be the 
 next betrayed, caused him to be slain at London in the 
 palace, thrown over the city wall, and there to lie un- 
 buried ; the head of Edric fixed on a pole, be commanded 
 to be set on the highest tower of London, as in a double 
 sense he had promised him for the murder of King Ed- 
 mund to exalt him above all the peers of England. 
 Huntingdon, Malmsbury, and Mat. Westm. write, that 
 suspecting the king's intention to degrade him from 
 his Mercian dukedom, and upbraiding him with his 
 meiits, the king enraged caused him to be strangled 
 in the room, and out at a window thrown into the 
 Thames. Another writes,? that Eric at the king's 
 command struck off his head. Other great men, though 
 without fault, as duke Norman the son of Leofwin, 
 Ethelward son of duke Agelmar, he put to death a| 
 the same time, jealous of their power or familiarity 
 with Edric : and notwithstanding peace, kept still hia 
 army; to maintain which, the next year q he squeezed 
 out of the English, though now his subjects, not hi 
 enemies, seventy-two, some say, eighty-two thousanc 
 pound, besides fifteen thousand out of London. Meat 
 while great war arose at Carr, between Uthred son o 
 Waldef, earl of Northumberland, and Malcolm son o 
 Kened king of Scots, with whom held Eugenius kin( 
 of Lothian. But here Simeon the relater seems to hav< 
 committed some mistake, having slain Uthred by Ca< 
 nute two years before, and set Iric in his place : Irit 
 
 q Post Christ. 1018. Sim. Dun. Iluntingd. Mat. West. 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 551 
 
 therefore it must needs be, not Uthred, who managed 
 tliis war against the Scots. About which time at a 
 convention of Danes at Oxford, it was agreed on both 
 parties to keep the laws of Edgar ; Mat. Westm. saith 
 of Edward the elder. The next "■ year Canute sailed 
 into Denmark, and there abode all winter. Hunting- 
 don and Mat. Westm. say, he went thither to repress 
 the Swedes ; and that the night before a battle was 
 fought with them, Godwin, stealing out of the camp 
 with his English, assaulted the Swedes, and had got 
 the victory ere Canute in the morning knew of any 
 fight. For which bold enterprise, though against dis- 
 cipline, he had the English in more esteem ever after. 
 In the spring, at his return into England,^ he held in 
 the time of Easter a great assembly at Chichester, and 
 the same year was with Turkill the Dane at the dedi- 
 cation of a church by them built at Assendune, in the 
 place of that great victory which won him the crown. 
 But suspecting his greatness, the year following ban- 
 isliod him the realm, and found occasion to do the like 
 by Trie the Northumbrian earl upon the same jealousy. 
 'Nor yet content with his conquest of England, though 
 now above ten years enjoyed, be passed with fifty 
 ships into Norway, dispossessed Olave their king, and 
 subdued the land," first with great sums of money sent 
 the year before to gain him a party, then coming with 
 an army to compel the rest. Thence returning king of 
 England, Denmark, and Norway, yet not secure in his 
 mind," under colour of an embassy sent into banish- 
 ment Hacun a powerful Dane, wlio had married the 
 daughter of his sister Gunildis, having conceived some 
 suspicion of his practices against him : but such course 
 was taken, that he never came back ; either perishing 
 at sea, or slain by contrivance the next y year in Ork- 
 ney. Canute therefore having thus established himself 
 by bloodshed and oppression, to wash away, as he 
 thought, the guilt thereof, sailing '^ again into Denmark, 
 went thence to Rome, and offered there to St. Peter 
 great gifts of gold and silver, and other precious things ; 
 besides the usual tribute of Romscot, giving great alms 
 by the way," both thither and back again, freeing many 
 ])laces of custom and toll with great expense, where 
 strangers were wont to pay, having vowed great amend- 
 ment of life at the sepulchre of Peter and Paul, and to 
 his whole people in a large letter written from Rome 
 yet extant. At his return therefore he built and dedi- 
 cated a church to St. Edmund at Bury, whom his an- 
 cestors had slain, •* threw out the secular priests, who 
 had intruded there, and ])laced monks in their stead ; 
 then going into Scotland, subdued and received hova- 
 age of Malcolm, and two other kings there, Melbeath 
 and Jcrmare. Three years'" after, having made Swane, 
 his supposed son by Algiva of Northampton, duke 
 Alfbelm's daughter, (for others say the son of a priest, 
 whom Algiva barren «had got ready at the time of her 
 feigned labour,) king of Norway, and Hardecnute, his 
 son by Emma, king of Denmark ; and designed 
 Harold, his son by Algiva of Northampton, king of 
 
 r Post Christ. 1010. Sim. Dun. 
 
 s Post Christ. lt>20. Sim. Dim. 
 
 t Post Christ. 1021. Sim. Dun. Malms. 
 
 u Post Christ. 10C8. Sim. Dun. 
 
 X Post Christ. 1029. Sim. Dun. 
 
 England ; died f at Shaftsbury, and was buried at 
 Winchester in the old monastery. This king, as ap- 
 pears, ended better than he began ; for though he 
 seems to have had no hand in the death of Ironside, 
 but detested the fact, and bringing the murderers, 
 who came to him in hope of great reward, forth 
 among his courtiers, as it were to receive thanks, after 
 they had openly related the manner of their killing 
 him, delivered them to deserved punishment, yet he 
 spared Edric, whom he knew to be the prime author 
 of that detestable fact ; till willing to be rid of him, 
 grown importune upon the confidence of his merits, 
 and upbraided by him that he had first relinquished, 
 then extinguished, Edmund for his sake ; angry to be 
 so upbraided, therefore said he with a changed coun- 
 tenance, " traitor to God and me, thou shalt die ; 
 thine own mouth accuses thee, to have slain thy master 
 my confederate brother, and llie I^ord's anointed." 
 g Whereupon although present and private execution 
 was in rage done upon Edric,yet he himself in cool blood 
 scrupled not to make away the brother and children of 
 Edmund, who had better right to be the Lord's anoint- 
 ed here than himself. When he had obtained in Eng- 
 land what he desired, no wonder if be sought the love 
 of bis conquered subjects for the love of his own quiet, 
 the maintainers of his wealth and state for his own 
 profit. For the like reason he is thought to have mar- 
 ried Emma, and that Richard duke of Normandy her 
 brother might the less care what became of Alfred and 
 Edward, her sons by King Ethelred. He commanded 
 to be observed the ancient Saxon laws, called after- 
 wards the laws of Edward the Confessor, not that he 
 made them, but strictly observed them. His letter 
 from Rome professes, if be had done aught amiss in his 
 youth, through negligence or want of due temper, full 
 resolution with the help of God to make amends, by 
 governing justly and piously for the future; charges 
 and adjures all his officers and viscounts, that neitlier 
 for fear of him, or favour of any person, or to enrich 
 the king, they suffer injustice to be done in the land; 
 commands his treasurers to pay all his debts ere bis re- 
 turn home, which was by Denmark, to compose mat- 
 ters there ; and what his letter professed, he performed 
 all his life after. But it is a fond conceit in many 
 great ones, and pernicious in the end, to cease from no 
 violence till they have attained the utmost of their am- 
 bitions and desires; then to think God appeased by their 
 seeking to bribe him with a share, however large, of 
 their ill-gotten spoils ; and then lastly to grow zealous 
 of doing right, when they have no longer need to do 
 wrong. Howbeit Canute was famous through Europe, 
 and much honoured of Conrade the emperor, then at 
 Rome, with rich gifts and many grants of what he 
 there demanded for the freeing of passages from toll 
 and custom. I must not omit one remarkable action 
 done by him, as Huntingdon reports it, with great 
 scene of circumstance, and emphatical expression, to 
 shew the small power of kings in respect of God ; 
 
 y Post Christ. 1030. Sim. Dun. z Post Christ. 10.31. Sim. Dun. 
 
 a nnatinj» I. b Post Christ. 10.12. Sim. Dun. 
 
 c Hunliiii;d. <\ Post Christ, 10:J5. Sim. Dun. 
 
 e Floreut. f Florent. g Malms, 
 
562 
 
 Till: HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book VI. 
 
 which, unless to court-parasites, needed no such la- 
 borious demonstration. He caused his royal seat to be 
 set on the shore, while the tide was cominnf in ; and 
 with all the state tliat royalty could put into his coun- 
 tenance, said thus to the sea ; " Thou sea belongest to 
 me, and the land whereon I sit is mine ; nor hath any 
 one unpunished resisted my commands : I charg'e thee 
 come no further upon my land, neither presume to wet 
 the feet of thy sovereign lord." But the sea, as before, 
 came rolling' on, and without reverence both wet and 
 dashed him. Whereat the king quickly rising wish- 
 ed all about him to behold and consider the weak 
 and frivolous power of a king, and that none in- 
 deed deserved the name of a king, but he whose 
 eternal laws both heaven, earth, and sea obey. A 
 truth so evident of itself, as I said before, that unless 
 to shame his court-flatterers, who would not else be 
 convinced, Canute needed not to have gone wetshod 
 home : the best is, from that time forth he never would 
 wear a crown, esteeming earthly royalty contemptible 
 and vain. 
 
 HAROLD. 
 
 Harold for his swiftness surnamed Harefoot,h the 
 son of Canute by Algiva of Northampton, (though 
 some speak doubtfully as if she bore him not, but had 
 him of a shoemaker's wife, as Swane before of a priest ; 
 others of a maidservant, to conceal her barrenness,) in 
 a great assembly at Oxford was by duke Leofric and 
 the Mercians, with the Londoners, according to his 
 father's testament, elected king;' but without there- 
 gal habiliments, which .Slnot, the archbishop, having 
 in his custody, refused to deliver up, but to the sons of 
 Emma, for which Harold ever after hated the clergy ; 
 and (as the clergy are wont thence to infer) all religion. 
 Godwin earl of Kent, and the West-Saxons with him, 
 stood for Hardecnute. Malnisbury saith, that the con- 
 test was between Dane and English ; that the Danes 
 and Londoners grown now in a manner Danish, were 
 all for Hardecnute : but he being then in Denmark, 
 Harold prevailed, yet so as that the kingdom should be 
 divided between them ; the west and south part reserv- 
 ed by Emma for Hardecnute till his return. But Ha- 
 rold, once advanced into tlie throne, banished Emma 
 his mother-in-law, seized on his father's treasure at 
 Winchester, and there remained. '' Emma, not hold- 
 ing it safe to abide in Normandy while duke William 
 the bastard was yet under age, retired to Baldwin earl 
 of Flanders. In the mean while Elfred and Edward 
 sons of Ethelred, accompanied with a small number of 
 Norman soldiers in a few ships, coming to visit their 
 mother Emma not yet departed the land, and perhaps 
 to see bow the people were inclined to restore them 
 their right, Elfred was sent for by the king then at 
 London; but in his way met at Guilford by earl God- 
 win, who with all seeming friendship entertained him, 
 was in the night surprised and made prisoner, most of 
 his company put to various sorts of cruel death, deci- 
 
 h Florent. Broropton. Iluntingd. Mat. Wtsf. 
 
 mated twice over; then brouglit to J^ndon, was by the 
 king sent bound to Ely, had his eyes put out by the 
 way, and delivered to the monks there, died soon after 
 in their custody. Malmsbury gives little credit to this 
 story of Elfred, as not chronicled in his time, but ru- 
 moured only. Which Emma however hearing sent 
 away her son Edward, who by good hap accompanied 
 not his brother, with all speed into Normandy. But 
 the author of" Encomium Emmse," who seems plainly 
 (though nameless) to have been some monk, yet lived, 
 and perhaps wrote within the same year when these 
 things were done ; by his relation, differing from all 
 others, much aggravates the cruelty of Harold, that 
 he, not content to have practised in secret (for openly 
 he durst not) against the life of Emma, sought many 
 treacherous ways to get her son within his power; and 
 resolved at length to forge a letter in the name of their 
 mother, inviting them into England, the copy of which 
 letter he produces written to this purpose. 
 
 " EMMA in name only queen, to her sons Edward 
 and Elfred imparts motherly salutation. While we 
 severally bewail the death of our lord the king, most 
 dear sons ! and while daily you are deprived more and 
 more of the kingdom your inheritance ; I admire what 
 counsel ye take, knowing that your intermitted delay 
 is a daily strengthening to the reign of your usurper, 
 who incessantly goes about from town to citj', gaining 
 the chief nobles to his party, either by gifts, prayers, 
 or threats. But they had much rather one of you 
 should reign over them, than to be held under the 
 power of him who now overrules them, t entreat 
 therefore, that one of you come to me speedily, and 
 privately, to receive from me wholesome counsel, and 
 to know how the business which I intend shall be ac- 
 complished. By this messenger present, send back 
 what you determine. Farewel, as dear both as my 
 own heart." 
 
 These letters were sent to the princes then in Nor- 
 mandy, by express messengers, with presents also as 
 from their mother ; which they joyfully receiving, re- 
 turn word by the same messengers, that one of them 
 will be with her shortly; naming both the time and 
 place. Elfred therefore the younger (for so it was 
 thought best) at the appointed time, with a few ships 
 and small numbers about him appearing on the coast, 
 no sooner came ashore but fell into the snare of earl 
 Godwin, sent on purpose to betray him ; as above was 
 related. Emma greatly sorrowing for the loss of her 
 son, thus cruelly made away, fled immediately with 
 some of the nobles her faithfullest adherents into Flan- 
 ders, had her dwelling assigned at Bruges by the earl ; 
 where having remained about two years, i she was 
 visited out of Denmark by Hardecnute her son ; and 
 he not long had remained with her there, when Harold 
 in England, having done nothing the while worth 
 memory, save the taxing of every port at eight marks 
 of silver to sixteen ships, died at London, some say at 
 
 kP 
 
 I 1\ 
 
 Dun. 
 
 Dun. Iluntiogd, 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 5o3 
 
 Oxford, and was buried at Winchester. "> After which, 
 most of the nobilit\-, both Danes and English now 
 agreeing-, send embassadors to Haidecnute still at 
 Bruges with his mother, entreating him to come and 
 receive as his right the sceptre; who before midsum- 
 mer came with sixty ships, and many soldiers out of 
 Denmark. 
 
 HARDECNUTE. 
 
 Hardecnute received with acclamation, and seated 
 in the throne, first called to mind the injuries done to 
 him or his mother Emma in the time of Harold ; sent 
 Alfric archbishop of York, Godwin, and others, with 
 Troud his executioner, to London, commanding them 
 to dig up the body of King Harold, and throw it into a 
 ditch ; but by a second order, into the Thames. Whence 
 taken up by a fisherman, and conveyed to a churchyard 
 in London belonging to the Danes, it was interred 
 again with honour. This done, he levied a sore tax, 
 that eight marks to every rower, and twelve to every 
 officer in his fleet, should be paid throughout England: 
 by which time they who were so forward to call him 
 over had enough of him ; for he, as they thought, had 
 too much of theirs. After this he called to account 
 Godwin earl of Kent, and Leving bishop of Worcester, 
 about the death of Elfred his half brother, which Alfric 
 the archbishop laid to their charge; the king deprived 
 liCving of his bishopric, and gave it to his accuser : but 
 the year following, pacified with a round sum, restored 
 it to Leving. " Godwin made his peace by a sump- 
 tuous present, a galley with a gilded stem bravely rig- 
 ged, and eighty soldiers in her, every one with brace- 
 lets of gold on each arm, weighing sixteen ounces, 
 helmet, corslet, and hilts of his sword gilded; a Danish 
 curtaxe, listed with gold or silver, hung on his left 
 shoulder, a shield with boss and nails gilded in his left 
 hand, in his right a lance ; besides this, he took his 
 oath before the king, that neither of his own counsel 
 or will, but by the command of Harold, he had done 
 what he did, to the putting out Elfred's eyes. The like 
 oath took most of the nobility for themselves, or in his 
 behalf. "The next year Hardecnute sending his 
 house-carles, so they called his officers, to gather the 
 tribute imposed ; two of them, rigorous in their office, 
 were slain at Worcester by the people ; whereat the 
 king enraged sent Leofric duke of Mercia, and Seward 
 of Northumberland, with great forces and commission 
 to slay the citizens, rifle and burn the city, and waste 
 the whole province. Afl^righted with such news, all 
 the people fled : the countrymen whither they could, 
 the citizens to a small island in Severn, called Bever- 
 ege, which they fortified and defended stoutly till 
 peace was granted them, and freely to return home. 
 But their city they found sacked and burnt; where- 
 with the king was appeased. This was commendable 
 in him, however cruel to others, that towards his half- 
 brethren, though rivals of his crown, he shewed him- 
 self always tenderly afliectioned ; as now towards Ed- 
 ward, who without fear came to him out of Normandy, 
 
 m Post Christ. 1010. Sinn. Dun. Malms. n Malms. 
 
 and with unfeigned kindness received, remained safely 
 and honourably in his court. PBut Hardecnute the 
 year following, at a feast wherein Osgod a great Dan- 
 ish lord gave his daughter in marriage at Lambeth to 
 Prudon another potent Dane, in the midst of his mirth, 
 sound and healthful to sight, while he was drinking 
 fell down speechless, and so dying, was buried at 
 Winchester beside his father. He was it seems a great 
 lover of good cheer; sitting at table four times a day, 
 with great variety of dishes and superfluity to all comers. 
 Whereas, saith Huntingdon, in our time princes in 
 their houses made but one meal a day. He gave his 
 sister Guuildis, a virgin of rare beauty, in marriage to 
 Henry the Alman emperor ; and to send her forth pom- 
 pously, all the nobility contributed their jewels and 
 richest ornaments. But it may seem a wonder, that our 
 historians, if they deserve that name, should in a mat- 
 ter so remarkable, and so near their own time, so much 
 differ. Huntingdon relates, against the credit of all 
 other records, that Hardecnute thus dead, the English 
 rejoicing at this unexpected riddance of the Danish 
 yoke, sent over to Elfred, the elder son of Emma by 
 King Ethelred, of whom we heard but now that he 
 died a prisoner at Ely, sent thither by Harold six years 
 before; that he came now out of Normandy, with a 
 great number of men, to receive the crown ; that earl 
 Godwin, aiming to have his daughter queen of Eng- 
 land, by marrying her to Edward a simple youth, for 
 he thought Elfred of a higher s])irit than to accept her, 
 persuaded the nobles, that Elfred had brought over too 
 many Normans, had promised them land here, that it 
 was not safe to suflTcr a warlike and subtle nation to 
 take root in the land, that these were to be so handled 
 as none of tliem might dare for the future to flock 
 hither, upon pretence of relation to the king: there- 
 upon by common consent of the nobles, both Elfred 
 and his company were dealt with as was above related ; 
 that they then sent for Edward out of Normandy, with 
 hostages to be left there of their faithful intentions to 
 make him king, and their desires not to bring over 
 with him many Normans; that Edward at their call 
 came then first out of Normandy; whereas all others 
 agree, that he came voluntarily over to visit Hardec- 
 nute, as is before said, and was remaining then in 
 court at the time of his death. For Hardecnute dead, 
 saith Malmsbury, Edward, doubting greatly his own 
 safety, determined to rely wholly on the advice and fa- 
 vour of earl Godwin ; desiring tlierefore by messengers 
 to have private speech with ijim, the earl a while deli- 
 berated: at last assenting, prince Edward came, and 
 would have fallen at his feet; but that not permitted, 
 told him the danger wherein he thought himself at pre- 
 sent, and in great perplexity besought his help, to con- 
 vey him some whither out of the land. Godwin soon 
 apprehending the fair occasion that now as it were 
 prompted him how to advance himself and his family, 
 cheerfully exhorted him to remember himself the son 
 of Ethelred, the grandchild of Edgar, right heir to the f 
 crown at full age; not to think of flying, but of reign- 
 ing, which might easily be brought about, if he would 
 
 o Post Christ. 1011. Sim. Dun. p Post Christ. 1012. Sim. Dun. 
 
564 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book \ i. 
 
 follow his counsel ; then setting forth the power and 
 authority which he had in England, promised it should 
 be all his to set him on the throne, if he on his part 
 would promise and swear to be for ever his friend, to 
 preserve the honour of his house, and to marry his 
 daughter. Edward, as his necessity then was, con- 
 sented easily, and swore to whatever Godwin required. 
 An assembly of states thereupon met at Gillingham, 
 where Edward pleaded his right ; and by the power- 
 ful influence of Godwin was accepted. Others, as 
 Brompton, with tio probability write, that Godwin at 
 this time was fled into Denmark, for what he had done 
 to Elfred, returned and submitted himself to Edward 
 then king, was by him charged openly with the death 
 of Elfred, and not without much ado, by the interces- 
 sion of I>eofric and other peers, received at length into 
 favour. 
 
 EDWARD the Confessor. 
 
 Glad were the English delivered so une.vpectedly 
 from their Danish masters, and little thought how near 
 another conquest was hanging over them. Edward, 
 the Easter following,*) crowned at Winchester, the same 
 year accompanied with earl Godwin, Leofric, and Si- 
 ward, came again thither on a sudden, and by their 
 counsel seized on the treasure of his mother Emma. 
 The cause alleged is, that she was hard to him in the 
 time of his banishment ; and indeed she is said not 
 much to have loved Ethelred her former husband, and 
 thereafter the children by him ; she was moreover noted 
 to be very covetous, hard to the poor, and profuse to 
 monasteries. "" About this time also King Edward, ac- 
 cording to promise, took to wife Edith or Egith earl 
 Godwin's daughter, commended much for beauty, mo- 
 desty, and beyond what is requisite in a woman, learn- 
 ing. Ingulf, then a youth lodging in the court with 
 bis father, saw her oft, and coming from the school, 
 was sometimes met by her and posed, not in grammar 
 only, but in logic. Edward the next year but one ^ 
 made ready a strong navy at Sandwich against Mag- 
 nus king of Norway, who threatened an invasion, had 
 not Swane king of Denmark diverted him by a war at 
 home to defend his own land ; ' not out of good will to 
 Edward, as may be supposed, who at the same time 
 expressed none to the Danes, banishing Gunildis the 
 niece of Canute with her two sons, and Osgod by sur- 
 name Clapa, out of the realm. " Swane, overpowered 
 by Magnus, sent the next year to entreat aid of King 
 Edward ; Godwin gave counsel to send him fifty ships 
 fraught with soldiers ; but Leofric and the general 
 voice gainsaying, none were sent. * The next year Ha- 
 rold Ilarvager, king of Norway, sending embassadors, 
 made peace with King Edward ; but an earthquake at 
 Worcester and Derby, pestilence and famine in many 
 places, much lessened the enjoyment thereof. > The 
 next year Henry the emperor, displeased with Bald- 
 win earl of Flanders, had straitened him with a great 
 army by land; and sending to King Edward, desired 
 
 q Pmt ChriM. 10J.1. Sim. Dun. 
 • Post Clirist. 1(M5. Sim. Dun. 
 u Port tbrijt. 1(M7. Sim. Uun. 
 
 r Malms, 
 t Post Christ. 1U16. Sim. Dun. 
 
 him with his ships to hinder what he might his escape 
 by sea. The king therefore, with a great navy, coming 
 to Sandwich, there staid till the emperor came to an 
 agreement with earl Baldwin. Mean while Swane 
 son of earl Godwin, who, not permitted to marry Ed- 
 giva the abbess of Chester by him deflowered, had left 
 the land, came out of Denmark with eight ships, feign- 
 ing a desire to return into the king's favour; and Beora 
 his cousin german, who commanded part of the king's 
 navy, promised to intercede, that his earldom might be 
 restored him. Godwin therefore and Beorn with a few 
 ships, the rest of the fleet gone home, coming to Pe- 
 vensey, (but Godwin soon departed thence in pursuit of 
 twenty-nine Danish ships, who had got much booty on 
 the coast of Essex, and perished by tempest in their re- 
 turn,) Swane with his ships comes to Beorn at Pevensey, 
 guilefully requests him to sail with him to Sandwich, 
 and reconcile him to the king, as he had promised. 
 Beorn mistrusting no evil where he intended good, went 
 with him in his ship attended by three only of his ser- 
 vants : but Swane, set upon barbarous cruelty, not re- 
 conciliation with the kinsT, took Beorn now in his 
 power, and bound him ; then coming to Dartmouth, ' 
 slew and buried him in a deep ditch. After which the 
 men of Hastings took six of his ships, and brought 
 them to the king at Sandwich ; with the other two he 
 escaped into Flanders, there remaining till Aldred 
 bishop of Worcester by earnest mediation wrought his 
 peace with the king. About this time King Edward 
 sent to pope Leo, desiring absolution from a vow which 
 he had made in his younger years, to take a journey to 
 Rome, if God vouchsafed him to reign in England ; 
 the pope dispensed with his vow, but not without the 
 expense of his journey given to the poor, and a monas- 
 tery built or re-edified to St. Peter; who in vision to a 
 monk, as is said, chose Westminster, which King Ed- 
 ward thereupon rebuilding endowed with large privi- 
 leges and revenues. The same year, saith Florent of 
 Worcester, certain Irish pirates with thirty-six ships 
 entered the mouth of Severn, and with the aid of Grif- 
 fin prince of South Wales, did some hurt in those parts: 
 then passing the river Wye, burnt Dunedham, and 
 slew all the inhabitants they found. Against whom 
 Aldred bishop of Worcester, with a few out of Glou- 
 cester and Herefordshire, went out in haste : but Griffin, 
 to whom the Welsh and Irish had privily sent messen- 
 gers, came down upon the English with his whole 
 power by night, and early in the morning suddenly 
 assaulting them, slew many, and put the rest to flight. 
 "The next year but one. King Edward remitted the 
 Danish tax which had continued thirty-eight years 
 heavy upon the land since Ethelred first paid it to the 
 Danes, and what remained thereof in his treasury he , 
 sent back to the owners : but through imprudence laid 
 the foundation of a far worse mischief to the English; 
 while studying gratitude to those Normans, who to him 
 in exile had been helpful, he called them over to public 
 offices here, whom better he might have repaid out of 
 his private purse ; by this means exasperating either 
 
 X Post Christ, low. Sim. Dun. 
 y Post Christ. J0t9. Sim. Dun. 
 a Putt Cbrist. luSt. Sim. Duo. Ingulf. 
 
 c Malms, 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 555 
 
 nation one against the other, and making- way by de- 
 grees to tlie Norman conquest. Robert a monk of that 
 country, who had been serviceable to him there in time 
 of need, he made bishop, first of London, then of Can- 
 terbury ; William his chaplain, bishop of Dorchester. 
 Then began the English to lay aside their own ancient 
 customs, and in many things to imitate French man- 
 ners, the great peers to speak French in their houses, 
 in French to write their bills and letters, as a great 
 piece of gentility, ashamed of their own : a presage of 
 their subjection shortly to that people, whose fashions 
 and language they affected so slavishly. But that 
 which gave beginning to many troubles ensuing hap- 
 pened this year, and upon this occasion. ^ Eustace 
 earl of Boloign, father of the famous Godfrey who won 
 Jerusalem from the Saracens, and husband toGoda the 
 king's sister, having been to visit King Edward, and 
 returning by Canterbury to take ship at Dover, one of 
 his harbingers, insolently seeking to lodge by force in 
 a house there, provoked so the master thereof, as by 
 chance or heat of anger to kill him. The count with 
 his whole train going to the house where his servant 
 had been killed, slew both the slayer and eighteen 
 more who defended him. But the townsmen running 
 to arms requited him with the slaughter of twenty more 
 of his servants, wounded most of the rest; he himself 
 with one or two hardly escaping, ran back with clamour 
 to the king ; whom, seconded by other Norman 
 courtiers, he stirred up to great anger against the citi- 
 zens of Canterbury. Earl Godwin in haste is sent for, 
 the cause related and much aggravated by the king 
 against that city, the earl commanded to raise forces, 
 and use the citizens thereof as enemies. Godwin, sorry 
 to see strangers more favoured of the king than his 
 native people, answered, that " it were better to summon 
 first the chief men of the town into the king's court, to 
 charge them with sedition, where both parties might 
 be heard, that not found in fault they might be acquit- 
 ted ; if otherwise, by fine or loss of life might satisfy 
 the king, whose peace they had broken, and the count 
 whom they had injured : till this were done refusing to 
 prosecute with hostile punishment them of his own 
 country unheard, whom his office was rather to defend." 
 The king displeased with his refusal, and not knowing 
 how to compel him, appointed an assembly of all the 
 peers to be held at Gloucester, where the matter mij^ht 
 be fully tried ; the assembly was full and frequent ac- 
 cording to summons : but Godwin mistrusting his own 
 cause, or the violence of his adversaries, with his two 
 sons, Swane and Harold, and a great power gathered 
 out of his own and his sons' earldoms, which contained 
 most of the south-east and west parts of England, 
 came no farther than Beverstan, giving out that their 
 forces were to go against the Welsh, who intended an 
 irruption into Herefordshire ; and Swane under that 
 pretence lay with part of his army thereabout. The 
 Welsh understanding this device, and with all dili- 
 gence clearing themselves before the king, left Godwin 
 detected of false accusation in great hatred to all the 
 assembly. Leofric therefore and Siward, dukes of great 
 
 b Mhlms. c Sim. Pun. 
 
 power, the former in Mercia, the other in all parts be- 
 yond Humber, both ever faithful to the king, send 
 privily with speed to raise the forces of their provinces- 
 Which Godwin not knowing sent bold to King Ed- 
 ward, demanding count Eustace and his followers, 
 together with those Boloignians, who, as Simeon 
 writes, held a castle in the jurisdiction of Canterbury. 
 The king, as then having but little force at hand, 
 entertained him a while with treaties and delays, till 
 his summoned army drew nigh, then rejected his de- 
 mands. Godwin, thus matched, commanded his sons 
 not to begin fight against the king ; begun with, not 
 to give ground. The king's forces were the flower of 
 those counties whence they came, and eager to fall on : 
 but Leofric and the wiser sort, detesting civil war,'= 
 brought the matter to this accord ; that hostages given 
 on either side, the cause should be again debated at 
 London. Thither the king and lords coming with 
 their army, sent to Godwin and bis sons (who with 
 their powers were come as far as South wark) command- 
 ing their appearance unarmed with only twelve at- 
 tendants, and that the rest of their soldiers they should 
 deliver over to the king. They to appear without 
 pledges before an adverse faction denied ; but to dis- 
 miss their soldiers refused not, nor in aught else to 
 obey the king as far as might stand with honour and 
 the just regard of their safety. This answer not 
 pleasing the king, an edict was presently issued forth, 
 that Godwin and his sons within five days depart the 
 land. He, who perceived now his numbers to dimin- 
 ish, readily obeyed, and with his wife and three sons, 
 Tosti, Swane, and Gyrtha, with as much treasure as 
 their ship could carry, embarked at Thorney, sailed 
 into Flanders to earl Baldwin, whose daughter Judith 
 Tosti had married : for Wulnod his fourth son was then 
 a hostage to the king in Normandy ; his other two, 
 Harold and Leofwin, taking ship at Bristow, in a 
 vessel that lay ready there belonging to Swane, passed 
 into Ireland. King Edward, pursuing his displeasure, 
 divorced his wife Edith earl Godwin's daughter, send- 
 ing her despoiled of all her ornaments to Warewel 
 with one waiting-maid ; to be kept in custody by his 
 sister the abbess there. '^ His reason of so doing was as 
 harsh as his act, that she only, while her nearest rela- 
 tions were in banishment, might not, though innocent, 
 enjoy ease at home. After this, William duke of 
 Normandy, with a great number of followers, coming 
 into England, was by King Edward honourably enter- 
 tained, and led about the cities and castles, as it were 
 to shew him what ere long was to be his own, (though 
 at that time, saith Ingulf, no mention thereof passed 
 between them,) then, after some time of his abode here, 
 presented richly and dismissed, he returned home, 
 e The next year Queen Emma died, and was buried at 
 Winchester. The chronicle attributed to John Bromp- 
 ton a Yorkshire abbot, but rather of some nameless 
 author living under Edward III, or later, reports that 
 the year before, by Robert the archbishop she was ac- 
 cused both of consenting to the death of her son Elfred, 
 and of preparing poison for Edward also; lastly of too 
 
 d Malms. e Post Christ. 1052. Sim. Dun. 
 
550 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book VI. 
 
 much funiiliarity with Alwin bishop of Winchester: 
 that to approve her innocence, praying overnig'ht to 
 St. Svvithuiic, she offered to pass blindfold between 
 certain plouglishares redhot, according to the ordalian 
 law, which without harm slje performed ; tliat the king 
 thereupon received her to honour, and from her and the 
 bishop, penance for his credulity ; that the archbishop, 
 ashamed of his accusation, fled out of England : which, 
 besides the silence of ancientcr authors, (for the bishop 
 fled not till a year after,) brings the whole story into 
 suspicion, in this more probable, if it can be proved, 
 that in memory of this deliverance from the nine 
 burning ploughshares, Queen Emma gave to the abbey 
 of St. Swithune nine manors, and bishop Alwin other 
 nine. About this time Griffin prince of South Wales 
 •wasted Herefordshire ; to oppose whom the people of 
 that country, with many Normans, garrisoned in the 
 castle of Hereford, went out in arms, but were put to 
 the worse, many slain, and much booty driven away 
 by the Welsh. Soon after which Harold and I^eofwin, 
 sons of Godwin, coming into Severn with many ships, 
 in the confines of Somerset and Doreetshire, spoiled 
 many villages, and resisted by those of Somerset and 
 Devonshire, slew in a fight more than thirty of their 
 principal men, many of the common sort, and returned 
 with much booty to their fleet. ^King Edward on the 
 other side made ready above sixty ships at Sandwich 
 well stored with men and provision, under the conduct 
 of Odo and Radulf two of his Norman kindred, en- 
 joining them to find out Godwin, whom he heard to 
 be at sea. To quicken them, he himself lay on ship- 
 board, ofttimes watched and sailed up and down in 
 search of those pirates. But Godwin, whether in a 
 mist, or by other accident, passing by them, arrived in 
 another part of Kent, and dispersing several messengers 
 abroad, by fair words allured the chief men of Kent, 
 Surrey, and Essex, to his party ; which news coming 
 to the king's fleet at Sandwich, they hasted to find him 
 out; but missing of him again, came up without effect 
 to London. Godwin, advertised of this, forthwith 
 sailed to the Isle of Wight ; where at length his two 
 sons Harold and Leofwin finding him, with their united 
 navy lay on the coast, forbearing other hostility than 
 to furnish themselves with fresh victuals from land as 
 they needed. Thence as one fleet they set forward to 
 Sandwich, using all fair means by the way to increase 
 their numbers both of mariners and soldiers. The king 
 then at London, startled at these tidings, gave speedy 
 order to raise forces in all parts that had not revolted 
 from him ; but lunv too late, for Godwin within a fdw 
 da^'s after with his ships or galleys came up the river 
 Thames to Southwark, and till the tide returned 
 had conference with the Londoners ; whom by fair 
 speeches (for he was held a good speaker in tliose 
 times) he brought to his bent. The tide returned, 
 and none upon the bridge hindering, he rowed up 
 in his galleys along the south bank ; inhere his land- 
 army, now come to him, in array of battle now .stood on 
 the shore; then turning toward the north side of the 
 river, where the king's galleys lay in some readiness, 
 f Malms. g Post Christ. 1053. Sim. Dun. 
 
 and land forces also not far oft", he made shew as offer- 
 ing to figlit; but they understood one another, and the 
 soldiers on either side soon declared their resolution not 
 to fight English against English. Thence coming to 
 treaty, the king and the earl reconciled, both armies 
 were dissolved, Godwin and his sons restored to their 
 former dignities, except Swane, who, touched in con- 
 science for the slaughter of Beom his kinsman, was 
 gone barefoot to Jerusalem, and, returning home, died 
 by sickness or Saracens in Lycia ; his wife Edith, God- 
 win's daughter. King Edward took to him again, dig- 
 nified as before. Then were the Normans, who had 
 done many unjust things under the king's authority, 
 and given him ill counsel against his people, banished 
 the realm ; some of them, not blamable, pennittcd to 
 stay. Robert archbishop of Canterbury, William of 
 London, Ulf of Lincoln, all Normans, hardly escaping 
 with their followers, got to sea. The archbishop went 
 with his complaint to Rome ; but returning, died in 
 Normandy at the same monastery from whence he. 
 came. Osbern and Hugh surrendered their castles,] 
 and by permission of Leofric passed through his coun- 
 tries with their Normans to Macbeth king of Scotland. 
 8 The year following, Rhese, brother to Griffin, prince 
 of South Wales, who by inroads had done much damage 
 to the English, taken at Bulendun, was put to death 
 by the king's appointment, and his head brought to 
 him at Gloucester. The same year at Winchester, on the 
 second holy day of Easter, earl Godwin, sitting with the 
 king at table, sunk down suddenly in his scat as dead: 
 his three sons, Harold, Tosti, and Girtha, forthwith car- 
 ried him into the king's chamber, hoping he might re- 
 vive: but the malady had so seized him, that the fifth 
 day after he expired. The Normans who hated God- 
 win give out, saith Malmsbury, that mention happen- 
 ing to be made of Elfred, and the king thereat looking 
 sourly upon Godwin, he, to vindicate himself, uttered 
 these words : " Thou, O king, at every mention made 
 of thy brother Elfred, lookest frowningly upon me; 
 but let God not sufifer me to swallow this morsel, if I 
 be guilty of aught done against his life or thy advan- 
 tage ; " that after these words, choaked with the mor- 
 sel taken, he sunk down and recovered not. His first 
 wife was the sister of Canute, a woman of much in- 
 famy for the trade she drove of buying up English 
 youths and maids to sell in Denmark, whereof she j 
 made great gain ; but ere long was struck with thun- : 
 der and died. '' The year ensuing, Siward earl of 
 Northumberland, with a great number of horse and 
 foot, attended also by a strong fleet at the king's 
 appointment, made an expedition into Scotland, van- 
 quished the tyrant Macbeth, slaying many thousands 
 of Scots with those Normans that went thither, and 
 placed Malcolm son of the Cumbrian king in his stead ; 
 yet not without loss of his own son, and many other 
 both English and Danes. Told of his son's death,' he 
 asked whether he received his death's wound before or 
 behind. When it was answered, before ; " I am glad," 
 saith he, " and should not else have thought him, 
 though my son, worthy of burial." In the mean while 
 ii Post Christ. lOSI. Sim. Duu. i lluntingd. 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 557 
 
 King Edward, being without issue to succeed him, sent 
 Aldred bishop of Winchester with great presents to the 
 emperor, entreating him to prevail with the king of 
 Hungary, that Edward, the remaining son of his bro- 
 ther Edmund Ironside, might be sent into England. 
 Siward, but one year surviving his great victory, died 
 at York ; '' reported by Huntingdon a man of giant like 
 stature ; and by his own demeanour at point of death 
 manifested, of a rough and mere soldierly mind. For 
 much disdaining to die in bed by a disease, not in the 
 field fighting with his enemies, he caused himself com- 
 pletely armed, and weaponed with battleaxe and shield, 
 to be set in a chair, whether to fight with death, if he 
 could be so vain, or to meet him (when far other^wea- 
 pons and preparations were needful) in a martial bra- 
 very ; but true fortitude glories not in the feats of war, 
 as they are such, but as they serve to end war soonest 
 by a victorious peace. His earldom the king bestowed 
 on Tosti the son of earl Godwin : and soon after, in a 
 convention held at London, banished without visible 
 cause, Huntingdon saith for treason, Algar the son of 
 Leofric ; who, ])assing into Ireland, soon returned with 
 eighteen ships to Griffin j)rince of South \\ ales, re- 
 questing his aid against King Edward. He, assem- 
 bling his powers, entered with him into Herefordshire; 
 whom Radulf a timorous captain, son to the king's 
 sister, not by Eustace, but a former husband, met two 
 miles distant from Hereford ; and having horsed the 
 English, who knew better to fight on foot, without 
 stroke he with his French and Normans beginning to fly, 
 taught the English by his example. Griffin and Algar, 
 following the chase, slew many, wounded more, enter- 
 ed Hereford, slew seven canons defending the minster, 
 burnt the monastery and reliques, then the city ; kill- 
 ing some, leading captive others of the citizens, re- 
 turned with great spoils; whereof King Edward hav- 
 ing notice gathered a great army at Gloucester under 
 the conduct of Harold, now earl of Kent, who strenu- 
 ously pursuing Griffin entered Wales, and encamped 
 beyond Straddale. But the enemy flying before him 
 farther into the country, leaving there the greater part 
 of his army with such as had charge to fight, if occa- 
 sion were offered, with the rest he returned, and fortified 
 Hereford with a wall and gates. Meanwhile Griffin 
 and Algar, dreading the diligence of Harold, after 
 many messages to and fro, concluded a peace with him. 
 Algar, discharging his fleet with pay at West-Chester, 
 came to the king, and was restored to his earldom. 
 But Griffin with breach of faith, the next year' set 
 upon Leofgar the bishop of Hereford and his clerks 
 then at a place called Glastbrig, with Agelnorth vis- 
 count of the shire, and slew them ; but Leofric, Harold, 
 and King Edward, by force, as is likeliest, though it be 
 not said how, reduced him to peace. "" The next year, 
 Edward son of Edmund Ironside, for whom his uncle 
 King Edward had sent to the emperor, came out of 
 Hungary, designed successor to the crown ; but within 
 a few days after his coming died at London, leaving 
 behind him Edgar Atheling his son, Margaret and 
 
 k Post Chrisf. 1055. Sim. Dun. 
 m Post Christ. 1057. Sim. Duu. 
 o Post Christ. Iu5y. 
 
 1 Post Christ. 1056. Sim. Dun. 
 n Post Christ. 10.58. Sim. Bun. 
 p Post Christ. 1061. Sim. Duu. 
 
 Christiana his daughters. About the same time also died 
 earl Leofric in a good old age, a man of no le.ss virtue 
 than power in his time, religious, prudent, and faithful 
 to his country, happily wedded to Godiva, a woman of 
 great praise. His son Algar found less favour with King 
 Edward,again banished the year after his father's death," 
 but he again by the aid of Griffin and a fleet from 
 Norway, maugre the king, soon recovered his earldom. 
 "The next year Malcolm king of Scots, coming to visit 
 King Edward, was brought on his way by Tosti the 
 Northumbrian, to whom he swore brotherhood : yet the 
 next year but one,P while Tosti was gone to Rome 
 with Aldred archbishop of York for his pall, this sworn 
 brother, taking advantage of his absence, roughly 
 harassed Northumberland. The year passing to an 
 end without other matter of moment, save the frequent 
 inroads and robberies of Griffin, whom no bonds of 
 faith could restrain, King Edward sent against him 
 after Christmas Harold now duke of West-Saxons,*! 
 with no great body of horse, from Gloucester, where 
 he then kept his court ; whose coming heard of Griffin 
 not daring to abide, nor in any part of his land holding 
 himself secure, escaped hardly by sea, ere Harold, 
 coming to Rudeland, burnt his palace and ships there, 
 returning to Gloucester the same day. ""But by ([^q 
 middle of May setting out with a fleet from Bristow, 
 he sailed about the most part of Wales, and met by his 
 brother Tosti with many troops of horse, as the king 
 had appointed, began to waste the country ; but the 
 Welsh giving pledges, yielded themselves, promised 
 to become tributary, and banish Griffin their prince; 
 who lurking somewhere was the next year' taken and 
 slain by Griffin prince of North Wales ; his head with 
 the head and tackle of his ship sent to Harold, by him 
 to the king, who of his gentleness made Blcchgeiit and 
 Rithwallon, or Rivallon, his two brothers, princes in 
 his stead ; they to Harold in behalf of the king swore 
 fealty and tribute. 'Yet the next year Harold having 
 built a fair house at a place called Portascith in Mon- 
 mouthshire, and stored it with provision, that the king 
 might lodge there in time of hunting, Caradoc, the son 
 of Griffin slain the year before," came with a number of 
 men, slew all he found there, and took away the pro- 
 vision. Soon after which the Northumbrians in a tu- 
 mult at York beset the palace of Tosti their earl, slew 
 more than two hundred of his soldiers and servants, 
 pillaged his treasure, and put him to fly for his life. 
 The cause of this insurrection they alleged to be, for 
 that the queen Edith had commanded, in her brother 
 Tosti's behalf, Gospatric a nobleman of tliat countiy to 
 be treacherously slain in the king's court; and that 
 Tosti himself the year before with like treachery had 
 caused to be slain in his chamber Gamel and Ulf, two 
 other of their noblemen, besides his intolerable exac- 
 tions and oppressions. Then in a manner the whole 
 country, coming up to complain of their grievances, 
 met with Harold at Northampton, whom the king at 
 Tosti's request had sent to pacify the Northumbrians; 
 but they laying open the cruelty of bis government, 
 
 q Post Chrisf. 106". Sim. Dun. 
 s Post Christ. 1064. Sim. Dun. 
 t Post Christ. 1065. Siin. Duu. 
 
 r Post Christ. 106.}. Sim. Dun. 
 u Camden. 
 
658 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Book VJ. 
 
 and their own birthright of freedom not to endure the 
 tyranny of any governor whatsoever, with absolute re- 
 fusal to ad/iiit him again, and Harold hearing reason, 
 all the accomplices of Tosti were expelled the earldom. 
 He himself, banished the realm, went into Flanders ; 
 Morcar the son of Algar made earl in his stead. 
 Huntingdon tells another cause of Tosti's banishment, 
 that one day at Windsor, while Harold reached the 
 cup to King Edward,Tosti, envying to see his younger 
 brother in greater favour than himself, could not for- 
 bear to run furiously upon him, catching hold of his 
 hair ; the scuffle was soon parted by other attendants 
 rushing between, and Tosti forbidden the court. He 
 with continued fury riding to Hereford, where Harold 
 had many servants, preparing an entertainment for the 
 king, came to the house and set upon them with his 
 followers ; then lopping off hands, arms, legs of some, 
 heads of others, threw them into buts of wine, meath, 
 or ale, which were laid in for the king's drinking: and 
 at bis going away charged them to send him this word, 
 that of other fresh meats he might bring with him to 
 his farm what he pleased, but of souse he should find 
 plenty provided ready for him : that for this barbarous 
 act the king pronounced him banished ; that the Nor- 
 thumbrians, taking advantage at the king's displeasure 
 and sentence against him, rose also to be revenged of 
 his cruelties done to themselves. But this no way 
 agrees ; for why then should Harold or the king so 
 much labour with the Northumbrians to readmit him, 
 if he were a banished man for his crimes done before ? 
 About this time it happened, that Harold putting to 
 sea one day for his pleasure," in a fisherboat, from his 
 manor at Boseham in Sussex, caught with a tempest 
 too far off lands was carried into Normandy ; and by 
 the earl of Pontiew, on whose coast he was driven, at 
 his own request brought to duke William; who, enter- 
 taining him with great courtesy, so far won him, as to 
 promise the duke by oath of his own accord, not only 
 the castle of Dover then in his tenure, but the kingdom 
 also after King's Edward's death to his utmost endea- 
 vour, thereupon betrothing the duke's daughter then 
 too young for marriage, and departing richly presented. 
 Others say, that King Edward himself, after the death 
 of Edward his nephew, sent Harold thither on purpose 
 to acquaint duke William with his intention to be- 
 queath him his kingdom :>" but Malmsbury accounts 
 the former story to be the truer. Ingulf writes, that 
 King Edward now grown old, and perceiving Edgar 
 his nephew both in body and mind unfit to govern, 
 especially against the pride and insolence of Godwin's 
 sons, who would never obey him ; duke William on 
 the other side of high merit, and his kinsman by the 
 mother, had sent Robert archbishop of Canterbury, to 
 acquaint the duke with his purpose, not long before 
 Harold came thither. The former part may be true, 
 that King Edward upon such considerations had sent 
 one or other; but archbishop Robert was fled the land, 
 and dead many years before. Eadmcr and Simeon 
 write, that Harold went of his own accord into Nor- 
 mandy, by the king's permission or connivance, to get 
 
 « Malms. y Lege* Ed. Coiif. Til, Lex Noricor. 
 
 free his brother Wulnod and nephew Hacun the son of 
 Swane, whom the king had taken hostages of Godwin, 
 and sent into Normandy; that King Edward foretold 
 Harold, his journey thither would be to the detriment 
 of all England, and his own reproach ; that duke Wil- 
 liam then acquainted Harold, how Edward ere his 
 coming to the crown had promised, if ever he attained 
 it, to leave duke William successor after him. Last of 
 these Matthew Paris writes, that Harold, to get free of 
 duke William, affirmed his coming thither not to have 
 been by accident or force of tempest, but on set pur- 
 pose, in that private manner to enter with him into 
 secret confederacy : so variously are these tilings re- 
 ported. After this King Edward grew sickly,* yet as 
 he was able kept his Christmas at London, and was 
 at the dedication of St. Peter's church in Westminster, 
 which he had rebuilt ; but on the eve of Epiphany, or 
 Twelfthtide, deceased much lamented, and in the 
 church was entombed. That he was harmless and 
 simple, is conjectured by his words in anger to a pea- 
 sant, who had crossed his game, (for with hunting and 
 hawking he was much delighted,) " by God and God's 
 mother," said he, " I shall do you as shrewd a turn if 
 I can ;" observing that law maxim, the best of all his 
 successors, " that the king of England can do no 
 wrong." The softness of his nature gave growth to 
 factions of those about him, Normans especially and 
 English ; these complaining, that Robert the archbishop 
 was a sower of dissension between the king and his 
 people, a traducer of the English ; the other side, that 
 Godwin and his sons bore themselves arrogantly and 
 proudly towards the king, usurping to themselves equal 
 share in the government, ofttimes making sport with 
 his simplicity ;* that through their power in the land, 
 they made no scruple to kill men of whose inheritance 
 they took a liking, and so to take possession. The 
 truth is, that Godwin and his sons did many things 
 boisterously and violently, much against the king's 
 mind ; which not able to resist, he had, as some say, 
 his wife Edith Godwin's daughter in such aversation, 
 as in bed, never to have touched her; whether for tliis 
 cause, or mistaken chastity, not commendable ; to in- 
 quire further, is not material. His laws held good and 
 just, and long alter desired by the English of their 
 Norman kings, are yet extant. He is said to be at 
 table not excessive, at festivals nothing puffed up witli 
 the costly robes he wore, which his queen with curious 
 art had woven for him in gold. He was full of alms- 
 deeds, and exhorted tiie monks to like charity. He is 
 said to be the first English king that cured the disease 
 thence called the king's evil ; yet Malmsbury blames 
 them who attribute that cure to his royalty, not to hi 
 sanctity; said also to have cured certain blind men 
 with the water wherein he hath washed his hands. A 
 little before his death, lying speechless two days, th< 
 third day, after a deep sleep, he was heard to pray, that 
 if it were a true vision, not an illusion which he had 
 seen, God would give him strength to utter it, other- 
 wise not. Then he related how he had seen two de- 
 vout monks, whom he knew in Normandy to hav< 
 a Post Christ. 1006. Sim. Dud. a Iluntingd. 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 559 
 
 lived and died well, who appearing told him they were 
 sent messengers from God to foretel, that because the 
 great ones of England, dukes, lords, bishops, and ab- 
 bots, were not ministers of God, but of the devil, God 
 had delivered the land to their enemies ; and when he 
 desired, that he might reveal this vision, to the end 
 they might repent, it was answered, they neither will 
 repent, neither will God pardon them : at this relation 
 others trembling, Stigand the simonious archbishop, 
 whom Edward much to blame had suffered many years 
 to sit primate in the church, is said to have laughed, 
 as at the feverish dream of a doting old man ; but the 
 event proved it true. 
 
 HAROLD, son of Earl Godwin. 
 
 Harold, whether by King Edward a little before his 
 death ordained successor to the crown, as Simeon of 
 Durham and ^ others affirm ; or by the prevalence of 
 his faction, excluding Edgar the right heir, grandchild 
 to Edmund Ironside, as Malnisbury and Huntingdon 
 agree ; no sooner was the funeral of King Edward 
 ended, but on the same day was elected and crowned 
 king : and no sooner placed in the throne, but began 
 to frame himself by all manner of compliances to gain 
 affection, endeavoured to make good laws, repealed 
 bad, became a great patron to church and churclinicn, 
 courteous and affable to all reputed good, a hater of 
 evildoers, charged all his officers to punish thieves, rob- 
 bers, and all disturbers of the peace, while he himself 
 by sea and land laboured in the defence of his country: 
 so good an actor is ambition. In the mean while a 
 blazing star, seven mornings together, about the end 
 of April was seen to stream terribly, not only over 
 England, but other parts of the world; foretelling here, 
 as was thought, the great changes approaching: plain- 
 liest prognosticated by Elmer, a monk of Malnisbury, 
 who could not foresee, when time was, the breaking of 
 his own legs for soaring too high. He in his youth 
 strangely aspiring, had made and fitted wings to his 
 hands and feet ; with these on the top of a tower, spread 
 out to gather air, he flew more than a furlong; but the 
 wind being too high, came fluttering down, to the 
 maiming of all his limbs; yet so conceited of his art, 
 that he attributed the cause of his fall to the want of a 
 tail, as birds have, which he forgot to make to his hinder 
 parts. This story, though seeming otherwise too light 
 in the midst of a sad narration, yet for the strangeness 
 thereof, I thought worthy enough the placing, as I 
 found it placed in my author. But to digress no farther: 
 Tosti the king's brother coming from Flanders, full of 
 envy at his younger brother's advancement to the 
 crown, resolved what he might to trouble his reign ; 
 forcing therefore them of Wight Isle to contribution, 
 he sailed thence to Sandwich, committing piracies on 
 the coast between. Harold, then residing at London, 
 with a great number of ships drawn together, and of 
 hoi-se troops by land, prepares in person for Sandwich: 
 whereof Tosti having notice directs his course with 
 sixty ships towards Lindsey,*' taking with him all the 
 
 b Hoved. Florent. c Malms. 
 
 seamen he found, willing or unwilling ; where he burnt 
 many villages, and slew many of the inhabitants; but 
 Edwin the Mercian duke, and Morcar his brother, the 
 Northumbrian earl, with their forces on either side, soon 
 drove him out of the country. Who thence betook him 
 to Malcolm the Scottish king, and with him abode the 
 whole summer. About the same time duke William 
 sending embassadors to admonish Harold of his promise 
 and oath, to assist him in his plea to the kingdom, he 
 made answer, that by the death of his daughter be- 
 trothed to him on that condition, he was absolved of 
 his oath ;^ or not dead, he could not take her now an 
 outlandish woman, without consent of the realm ; that 
 it was presumptuously done, and not to be persisted in, 
 if without consent or knowledge of the states, he had 
 sworn away the right of the kingdom ; that what he 
 swore was to gain his liberty, being in a manner then 
 his prisoner; that it was unreasonable in the duke, to 
 require or expect of him the foregoing of a kingdom, 
 conferred upon him with universal favour and acclama- 
 tion of the people. To this flat denial he added con- 
 tempt, sending the messengers back, saith Matthew 
 Paris, on maimed horses. The duke, thus contemptu- 
 ously put off, addresses himself to the pope, setting 
 forth the justice of his cause ; which Harold, whether 
 through haughtiness of mind, or distrust, or that the 
 ways to Rome were stopped, sought not to do. Duke 
 William, besides the promise and oath of Harold, al- 
 leged that King Edward, by the advice of Seward, 
 Godwin himself, and Stigand the archbishop, had 
 given him the right of succession, and had sent him 
 the son and nephew of Godwin, pledges of the gift : 
 the pope sent to duke William, after this demonstration 
 of his right, a consecrated banner. Whereupon he 
 having with great care and choice got an army of tall 
 and stout soldiers, under captains of great skill and 
 mature age, came in August to the port of St. Valerie. 
 Meanwhile Harold from London comes to Sandwich, 
 there expecting his navy ; which also coming, he sails 
 to the Isle of Wight ; and having heard of duke Wil- 
 liam's preparations and readiness to invade him, kept 
 good watch on the coast, and foot forces every where 
 in fit places to guard the shore. But ere the middle 
 of September, provision failing when it was most 
 needed, both fleet and army return home. When on a 
 sudden, Harold Harvager king of Norway, with a navy 
 of more than five hundred great ships,e (others lessen 
 them by two hundred, others augment them to a thou- 
 sand,) appears at the mouth of Tine ; to whom earl 
 Tosti with his ships came as was agreed between them ; 
 whence both uniting set sail with all speed, and entered 
 the river Humber. Thence turning into Ouse, as far 
 as Rical, landed, and won York by assault. At these 
 tidings Harold with all his power hastes thitherward ; 
 but ere his coming, Edwin a ad Morcar at Fulford by 
 York, on the north side of Ouse, about the feast of St. 
 Matthew had given them battle ; successfully at first, 
 but overborn at length with numbers ; and forced to 
 turn their backs, more of them perished in the river, 
 than in the fight. The Norwegians taking with them 
 
 d Eadmer. e Malms. Matt. Paris. 
 
560 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 Hook \ 1. 
 
 five hundred liostajjcs out of York, and leaving there 
 one hundred and fifty of their own, retired to their 
 ships. But the fifth day after, Kin<^ Harokl witli a 
 great and well-appointed army coming to York, and 
 at Stamford bridge, or Battle bridge on Darwent, as- 
 sailing the Norwegians, after much bloodshed on both 
 sides, cut off the greatest part of them, with Ilarvager 
 their king, and Tosti his own brother. '^ ButOlave the 
 king's son, and Paul earl of Orkney, left with many 
 soldiers to guard the ships, surrendering themselves 
 with hostages, and oath given never to return as ene- 
 mies, he suffered freely _to depart with twenty ships, 
 and the small remnant of their army. 8 One man of 
 the Norwegians is not to be forgotten, who with incre- 
 dible valour keeping the bridge a long hour against 
 the whole English army, with his single resistance 
 delayed their victory ; and scorning offered life, till in 
 the end no man daring to grapple with him, either 
 dreaded as too strong, or contemned as one desperate, 
 he was at length shot dead with an arrow ; and by his 
 fall opened the passage of pursuit to a complete victory. 
 Wherewith Harold lifted up in mind, and forgetting 
 now his former shows of popularity, defrauded his sol- 
 diers their due and well-deserved share of the spoils. 
 While these things passed in Northumberland, duke 
 William lay still at St. Valerie ; his ships were ready, 
 but the wind served not for many days ; which put the 
 soldiery into much discouragement and murmur, 
 taking this for an unlucky sign of their success ; at last 
 the wind came favourable, the duke first under sail 
 awaited the rest at anchor, till all coming forth, the 
 whole fleet of nine hundred ships with a prosperous 
 gale arrived at Hastings. At his going out of the boat 
 by a slip falling on his hands, to correct the omen,!* a 
 soldier standing by said aloud, that their duke had 
 taken possession of England, Landed, he restrained 
 his army from waste and spoil, saying that they ought 
 to spare what was their own. But these things are 
 related of Alexander and Ctesar, and I doubt thence 
 borrowed by the monks to inlay their story. The 
 duke for fifteen days after landing kept his men quiet 
 within the camp, having taken the castle of Hastings, 
 or built a fortress there. Harold secure the while, and 
 proud of his new victory, thought all his enemies now 
 under foot : but sitting joUily at dinner, news is brought 
 him tiiat duke William of Normandy with a gieat 
 multitude of horse and foot, slingers and archers, be- 
 sides other choice auxiliaries which he had hired in 
 France, was arrived at Pevensey. Harold, who had 
 expected him all the summer, but not so late in the 
 year as now it was, for it was October, with his forces 
 much diminished after two sore conflicts, and the de- 
 parting of many others from him discontented, in great 
 haste marches to London. Thence not tarrying for 
 supplies, which were on their way towards him, hurries 
 into Sussex, (for he was always in haste since the day 
 of his coronation,) and ere the third part of his army 
 could be well put in order, finds the duke about nine 
 miles from Hastings, and now drawing nigh, sent spies 
 before hira to survey the strength and number of his 
 
 f Camd. p M;iliii». 
 
 enemies: them discovered, such the duke causing to 
 be led about, and after well filled with meat and drink, 
 sent back. They not otherwise brought word, that the 
 duke's army were most of them priests ; for they saw 
 their faces all over shaven ; the English then using to 
 let grow on their upper lip large mustachios, as did 
 anciently the Britons. The king laughing answered, 
 that they were not priests, but valiant and hardv sol- 
 diers. Therefore said Girtha his brother, a youth of 
 noble courage and understanding above his age, " For- 
 bear thou thyself to fight, who art obnoxious to duke 
 William by oath, let us unsworn undergo the hazard 
 of battle, who may justly fight in the defence of our 
 country ; thou, reserved to fitter time, mayst either 
 reunite us flying, or revenge us dead." The king not 
 hearkening to this, lest it might seem to argue fear in 
 him or a bad cause, with like resolution rejected the 
 offers of duke William sent to him by a monk before 
 the bittle, with this only answer hastily delivered, 
 " Let God judge between us." The offers were these, 
 that Harold would cither lay down the sceptre, or hold 
 it of him, or try his title with him by single combat in 
 sight of both armies, or refer it to the pope. These re- 
 jected, both sides prepared to fight the next morning, 
 the English from singing and drinking all night, the j 
 Normans from confession of their sins, and communion 1 
 of the host. The English were in a strait disadvanta- 
 geous place, so that many, discouraged with their ill 
 ordering, scarce having room where to stand, slipped 
 away before the onset, the rest in close order, with their 
 battleaxes and shields, made an impenetrable squadron : 
 the king himself with his brothers on foot stood by the 
 royal standard, wherein the figure of a man fighting 
 was inwoven with gold and precious stones. The 
 Norman foot, most bowmen, made the foremost front, 
 on either side wings of horse somewhat behind. The 
 duke arming, and his coi-slet given him on the wrong 
 side, said pleasantly, " The strength of my dukedom 
 will be turned now into a kingdom." Then the whole ' 
 army singing the song of Rowland, the remembrance 
 of whose exploits might hearten them, imploring lastly 
 divine help, the battle began ; and was fought sorely 
 on either side : but the main body of English foot by 
 no means would be broken, till the duke, causing his 
 men to feign flight, drew them out with desire of pur- 
 suit into open disorder, then turned suddenly upon 
 them so rotited by themselves, which wrought their 
 overthrow ; yet so they died not unmanfully, but turning 
 oft upon their enemies, by the advantage of an upper 
 ground, beat them down by heaps, and filled up a great 
 ditch with their carcasses. Thus hung the victory 
 wavering on eitlier side from the third hour of day to 
 evening; when Harold having maintained the fight 
 with unspeakable courage and personal valour, shot 
 into the head with an arrow, fell at length, and left 
 his soldiers without heart longer to withstand the un- 
 wearied enemy. With Harold fell also his two bro- 
 thers, Leofvvin and Girtha, with them greatest part of 
 the English nobility. His body lying dead a knight or 
 soldier wounding on the thigh, was by the duke pre- 
 
 h Sim. Dun. 
 
Book VI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 561 
 
 scntly turned out of military service Of Normans and 
 French were slain no small number ; the duke himself 
 that day not a little hazarded his person, having had 
 three choice horses killed under him. Victory ob- 
 tained, and his dead carefully buried, the English also 
 by permission, he sent the body of Harold to his mother 
 without ransom, though she offered very much to re- 
 deem it ; which having' received she buried at Waltham, 
 in a church built there by Harold. In the mean while, 
 Edwin and Morcar, who had withdrawn themselves 
 from Harold, hearing of his death, came to London ; 
 sending Aldgith the queen their sister with all speed 
 to West-chester. Aldrcd archbishop of York, and many 
 of the nobles, with the Londoners, would have set up 
 Edgar the right heir, and prepared themselves to fight 
 for him ; but Morcar and Edwin not liking the choice, 
 who each of them expected to have been chosen before 
 him, withdrew their forces, and returned home. Duke 
 William, contrary to his former resolution, (if Florent 
 of Worcester, and they who follow him,' say true,) 
 wasting, burning, and slaying all in his way ; or rather, 
 assaiih Malmsbury,not in hostile but in regal manner, 
 came up to London, met at Barcham by Edgar, with 
 the nobles, bishops, citizens, and at length Edwin and 
 Morcar, who all submitted to him, gave hostages and 
 swore fidelity, he to them promised peace and defence ; 
 yet permitted his men the while to burn and make 
 prey. Coming to London with all his army, he was 
 on Christmas-day solemnly crowned i;i the great church 
 at Westminster, by Aldred archbishop of York, having 
 first given his oath at the altar, in presence of all the 
 people, to defend the church, well govern the people, 
 maintain right law, prohibit rapine and unjust judg- 
 
 i Sim. Dun. 
 
 ment. Thus the English, while they agreed not about 
 the choice of their native king, were constrained to 
 take the yoke of an outlandish conqueror. With what 
 minds and by what coui-se of life they had fitted them- 
 selves for this servitude, William of Malmsbury spares 
 not to lay open. Not a few years before the Normans 
 came, the clergy, though in Edward the Confessor's 
 (lays, had lost all good literature and religion, scarce 
 able to read and understand their Latin service ; he 
 was a miracle to others who knew his grammar. The 
 monks went clad in fine stuflfs, and made no difference 
 what they eat; which though in itself no fault, yet to 
 their consciences was irreligious. The great men, 
 given to gluttony and dissolute life, made a prey of 
 the common people, abusing their daughters whom 
 they had in service, then turning them off to the stews; 
 the meaner sort tippling together night and day, spent 
 all they had in drunkenness, attended with other vices 
 which effeminate men's minds. Whence it came to 
 pass, that carried on with fury and rashness more than 
 any true fortitude or skill of war, they gave to William 
 their conqueror so easy a conquest. Not but that some 
 few of all sorts were much better among them ; but 
 such was the generality. And as the long-suffering of 
 God permits bad men to enjoy prosperous days with 
 the good, so his severity ofttimes exempts not good 
 men from their share in evil times with the bad. 
 
 If these were the causes of such misery and thral- 
 dom to those our ancestors, with what better close can 
 be concluded, than here in fit season to remember this 
 age in the midst of her security, to fear from like vices, 
 without amendment, the revolution of like calamities? 
 
TRUE RELIGION, HERESY, SCHISM, TOLERATION ; 
 
 AND WHAT BUT HKAKg MAY BE USED 
 
 AGAINST THE GROWTH OF POPERY. 
 
 [riRST rCBLISHKD 1673.] 
 
 It is unknown to no man, who knows aug'ht of con- 
 ceniment among' us, that the increase of popery is at 
 this day no small trouble and ofTence to greatest part 
 of the nation ; and the rejoicing of all good men that 
 it is so : tlje more their rejoicing, that God hath given 
 a heart to the people, to remember still their great and 
 happy deliverance from popish thraldom, and to esteem 
 so highly the precious benefit of his gospel, so freely 
 and so peaceably enjoyed among tiiem. Sirjce therefore 
 some have already in public with many considerable 
 arguments exhorted the people, to beware the growth 
 of this Romish weed; I thought it no less than a com- 
 mon duty, to lend my hand, how unable soever, to so 
 good a purpose. I will not now enter into the laby- 
 rinth of councils and fathers, an entangled wood, which 
 the papists love to fight in, not with hope of victory, 
 but to obscure the shame of an open overthrow : which 
 yet in that kind of combat, many heretofore, and one 
 of late, hath eminently given them. And such manner 
 of dispute with them to learned men is useful and very 
 commendable. But I shall insist now on what is 
 plainer to common apprehension, and what I have to 
 say, without longer introduction. 
 
 True religion is the true worship and service of God, 
 learnt and believed from the word of God only. No 
 man or angel can know how God would be worshipped 
 and served, unless God reveal it : he hath revealed and 
 taught it us in the Holy Scriptures by inspired minis- 
 ters, and in the gospel by his own Son and his apos- 
 tles, with strictest command, to reject all other tra- 
 ditions or additions whatj^oever. According to that 
 of St. Paul, " Though we or an angel from heaven 
 preach any other gospel unto you, than that which we 
 have preached unto you, let him be anathema, or ac- 
 cursed." And Deut. iv. 2 : "Ye shall not add to the 
 word which I command you, neither shall you dimi- 
 nish aught from it." Rev. xxii. 18, 19: " If any man 
 shall add, &c. If any man shall take away from the 
 words," iScc. With good and religious reason therefore 
 all protcstant churches with one consent, and particu- 
 
 larly the church of England in her thirty-nine articles, 
 artic. 6th, 19th, 20th, 21st, and elsewhere, maintain 
 these two points, as the main principles of true reli- 
 gion ; that the rule of true religion is the word of God 
 only : and that their faith ought not to be an implicit 
 faith, that is to believe, though as the church believes, 
 against or without express authority of Scripture. And 
 if all protestants, as universally as they hold these two 
 principles, so attentively and religiously would ob- 
 serve them, they would avoid and cut off many debates 
 and contentions, schisms and persecutions, which too 
 oft have been among them, and more firmly unite 
 against the common adversary. For hence it directly 
 follows, that no true protestant can persecute, or not 
 tolerate, his fellow-protestant, though dissenting from 
 him in some opinions, but he must flatly deny and re- 
 nounce these two his own main principles, whereon 
 true religion is founded ; while he compels his brother 
 from that which he believes as the manifest word of 
 God, to an implicit faith (which he himself condemns) 
 to the endangering of his brother's soul, whether by 
 rash belief, or outward conformity : for " whatsoever is 
 not of faith, is sin." 
 
 I will now as briefly shew what is false religion or 
 heresy, which will be done as easily : for of contraries 
 the definitions must needs be contrary. Heresy there- 
 fore is a religion taken up and believed from the tra- 
 ditions of men, and additions to the word of God. 
 Whence also it follows clearly, that of all known sects, 
 or pretended religions, at this day in Christendom, po- 
 pery is the only or the greatest heresy : and he who is 
 so forward to brand all others for heretics, tiie obsti- 
 nate papist, the only heretic. Hence one of their own 
 famous writers found just cause to style the Romish 
 church " Mother of errour, school of heresy." An^' 
 whereas the papist boasts himself to be a Roman C;i 
 tiiolic, it is a mere contradiction, one of the pope's bull 
 as if he should say, univei'sal particular, a catholi 
 schismatic. For catholic in Greek signifies universal 
 and the christian church was so called, as consisting c; 
 
OF TRUE RELIGION, HERESY, SCHISM, TOLERATION. 
 
 663 
 
 all nations to whom the g'ospel was to be preached, in 
 contradistinction to the Jewish church, which consisted 
 for the most part of Jews only. 
 
 Sects may be in a true church as well as in a false, 
 when men follow the doctrine too much for the teach- 
 er's sake, whom they think almost infallible ; and this 
 becomes, through infirmitj^ implicit faith ; and the 
 name sectary pertains to such a disciple. 
 
 Schism is a rent or division in the church, when it 
 comes to the separating of conj^regations; and may 
 also happen to a true church, as well as to a false ; yet 
 in the true needs not tend to the breaking of commu- 
 nion, if they can agree in the right administration of 
 that wherein they communicate, keeping their other 
 opinions to themselves, not being destructive to faith. 
 The Pharisees and Sadducees were two sects, yet both 
 met together in their common worship of God at Jeru- 
 salem. But here the papist will angrily demand, What ! 
 are Lutherans, Calvinists, anabaptists, Socinians, Ar- 
 niinians, no heretics .'' I answer, all these may have 
 some errours, but are no heretics. Heresy is in the 
 will and choice professedly against Scripture; errour 
 is against the will, in misunderstanding the Scripture 
 after all sincere endeavours to understand it rightly : 
 hence it was said well by one of the ancients, " Err I 
 may, but a heretic I will not be." It is a human frailty 
 to err, and no man is infallible here on earth. But so 
 long as all these profess to set the word of God only 
 before thorn as the rule of faith and obedience ; and 
 use all diligence and sincerity of heart, by reading, by 
 learning, by study, by prayer for illumination of the 
 Holy Spirit, to understand the rule and obey it, they 
 have done what man can do : God will assuredly par- 
 don them, as he did the friends of Job ; good and pious 
 men, though much mistaken, as there it appears, in 
 some points of doctrine. But some will say, with 
 Christians it is otherwise, whom God hath promised by 
 his Spirit to teach all things. True, all things abso- 
 lutely necessary to salvation : but the hottest disputes 
 among protestauts, calmly and charitably inquired into, 
 will be found less than such. The Lutheran holds con- 
 snbstantiation ; an errour indeed, but not mortal. The 
 Calvinistis taxed with predestination, and to make God 
 the author of sin; not with any dishonourable thought 
 of God, but it may be overzealously asserting his ab- 
 solute power, not without plea of Scripture. The 
 anabaptist is accused of denying infants their right to 
 baptism ; again they say, they deny nothing but what 
 the Scripture denies them. The Arian and Socinian are 
 charged to dispute against the Trinity : they affirm to 
 believe the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, according to 
 Scripture and the apostolic creed ; as for terms of trinity, 
 triniunity, coessentiality, tripersonality, and the like, 
 they reject them as scholastic notions, not to be found 
 in Scripture, which by a general protestant maxim is 
 plain and perspicuous abundantly to explain its own 
 meaning in the properest words, belonging to so high 
 a matter, and so necessary to be known ; a mystery 
 indeed in their sophistic subtilties, but in Scripture a 
 plain doctrine. Their other opinions are of less mo- 
 ment. They dispute the satisfaction of Christ, or 
 2 o 
 
 rather the word " satisfaction," as not scriptural : but 
 they acknowledge him both God and their Saviour. 
 The Arminian lastly is condemned for setting up free 
 will against free grace ; but that imputation he dis- 
 claims in all his writings, and grounds himself largely 
 upon Scripture only. It cannot be denied, that the 
 authors or late revivers of all these sects or opinions 
 were learned, worthy, zealous, and religious men, as 
 appears by their lives written, and the same of their 
 many eminent and learned followers, perfect and 
 powerful in the Scriptures, holy and unblamable in 
 their lives : and it cannot be imagined, that God would 
 desert such painful and zealous labourers in his church, 
 and ofttimes great sufferers for their conscience, to 
 damnable errours and a reprobate sense, who had so 
 often implored the assistance of his Spirit ; but rather, 
 having made no man infallible, that he hath pardoned 
 their errours, and accepts their pious endeavours, sin- 
 cerely searching all things according to the rule of 
 Scripture, with such guidance and direction as they can 
 obtain of God by prayer. What protestant then, who 
 himself maintains the same principles, and disavows all 
 implicit faith, would persecute, and not rather charit- 
 ably tolerate, such men as these, unless he mean to ab- 
 jure the principles of his own religion .'' If it be asked, 
 how far they should be tolerated : I answer, doubtless 
 equally, as being all protestants ; that is, on all occa- 
 sions to give account of their faith, cither by arguing, 
 preaching in their several assemblies, public writing, 
 and the freedom of printing. For if the French and 
 Polonian protestants enjoy all this liberty among 
 papists, much more may a protestant justly expect it 
 among protestants; and yet sometimes here among us, 
 the one persecutes the other upon every slight pretence. 
 But he is wont to say, he enjoins only things indif- 
 ferent. Let them be so still ; who gave him authority 
 to change their nature by enjoining them ? if by his 
 own principles, as is proved, he ought to tolerate con- 
 troverted points of doctrine not slightly grounded on 
 Scripture, much more ought he not impose things in- 
 different without Scripture. In religion nothing is 
 indifferent, but, if it come once to be imposed, is either 
 a command or a prohibition, and so consequently an 
 addition to the word of God, which he professes to dis- 
 allow. Besides, how unequal, how uncharitable must 
 it needs be, to impose that which his conscience cannot 
 urge him to impose, upon him whose conscience for- 
 bids him to obey ! What can it be but love of conten- 
 tion for things not necessary to be done, to molest the 
 conscience of his brother, who holds them necessary to 
 be not done ? To conclude, let such a one but call to 
 mind his own principles above mentioned, and he must 
 necessarily grant, that neither he can impose, nor the 
 other believe or obey, aught in religion, but from the 
 word of God only. More amply to understand this, 
 may be read the 14th and 16th chapters to the Romans, 
 and the contents of the 14th, set forth no doubt but 
 with full authority of the church of England : the 
 gloss is this ; " Men may not contemn or condemn 
 one the other for things indifferent." And in the 6tli 
 article above mentioned, " Whatsoever is not read in 
 
564 
 
 OF TRUE RELIGION, HERESY, SCHISM, TOLERATION. 
 
 Holy Scripture, nor may be proved therebj, is not to be 
 required of any man as an article of faith, or necessary 
 to salvation." And certainly what is not so, is not to 
 be recjuired at all ; as being an addition to the word of 
 God expressly forbidden. 
 
 Thus this long and hot contest, whether protestants 
 ought to tolerate one another, if men will be but rational 
 and not partial, may be ended without need of more 
 words to compose it. 
 
 Let us now inquire, whether popery be tolerable or 
 no. Popery is a double thing to deal with, and claims 
 a twofold power, ecclesiastical and political, both 
 usurped, and the one supporting the other. 
 
 But ecclesiastical is ever pretended to political. The 
 pope by this mixed faculty pretends right to kingdoms 
 and states, and especially to this of England, thrones 
 and unthrones kings, and absolves the people from their 
 obedience to them ; sometimes interdicts to whole na- 
 tions the public worship of God, shutting up their 
 churches: and was wont to drain away greatest part 
 of the wealth of this then miserable land, as part of his 
 patrimony, to maintain the pride and luxury of his 
 court and prelates : and now, since, through the infi- 
 nite mercy and favour of God, we have shaken off his 
 Babylonish yoke, hath not ceased by his spies and 
 agents, bulls and emissaries, once to destroy both king 
 and parliament; perpetually to seduce, corrupt, and 
 pervert as many as they can of the people. Whether 
 therefore it be fit or reasonable, to tolerate men thus 
 principled in religion towards the state, I submit it to 
 the consideration of all magistrates, who are best able 
 to provide for their own and the public safety. As for 
 tolerating the exercise of their religion, supposing their 
 state-activities not to be dangerous, I answer, that tole- 
 ration is either public or private ; and the exercise of 
 their religion, as far as it is idolatrous, can be tolerated 
 neither way : not publicly, without grievous and unsuf- 
 ferable scandal given to all conscientious beholders ; 
 not privately, without great offence to God, declared 
 against all kind of idolatry, though secret. Ezek. viii. 
 7, 8 : " And he brought me to the door of the court, 
 and when I looked, behold, a hole in the wall. Then 
 said he unto me. Son of man, dig now in the wall : and 
 when I had digged, behold a door; and he said unto 
 me. Go in, and behold the wicked abominations that 
 they do here." And ver. 12 ; " Then said he unto me. 
 Son of man, hast thou seen what the ancients of the 
 house of Israel do in the dark ?" &c. And it appears 
 by the whole chapter, that God was no less offended 
 with these secret idolatries, than with those in public; 
 and no less provoked, than to bring on and hasten his 
 judgments on the whole land for these also. 
 
 Having shewn thus, that popery, as being idolatrous, 
 is not to be tolerated either in public or in private; it 
 must be now thought how to remove it, and hinder the 
 growth thereof, I mean in our natives, and not foreign- 
 ers, privileged by the law of nations. Are we to punish 
 them by corporal punishment, or fines in their estates, 
 upon account of tlieir religion .'' I suppose it stands not 
 with the clemency of the gospel, more than what ap- 
 pertains to the security of the state : but first we must 
 
 remove their idolatry, and all the furniture thereof, 
 whether idols, or the mass wherein they adore their 
 God under bread and wine : for the commandment 
 forbids to adore, not only " any graven image, but the 
 likeness of any thing in heaven above, or in the earth 
 beneath, or in the water under the earth ; thou shalt not 
 bow down to them, nor worship them, for I the Lord 
 thy God am a jealous God." If they say, that by re- 
 moving their idols we violate their consciences, we 
 have no warrant to regard conscience which is not 
 grounded on Scripture: and they themselves confess 
 in their late defences, that they hold not their images 
 necessary to salvation, but only as they are enjoined 
 them by tradition. 
 
 Shall we condescend to dispute with them ? The 
 Scripture is our only principle in religion ; and by that 
 only they will not be judged, but will add other prin- 
 ciples of their own, which, forbidden by the word of 
 God, we cannot assent to. And [in several places of the 
 gospel] the common maxim also in logic is, " against 
 them who deny principles, we are not to dispute." Let 
 them bound their disputations on the Scripture only, 
 and an ordinary protestant, well read in the Bible, may 
 turn and wind their doctors. They will not go about 
 to prove their idolatries by the word of God, but turn 
 to shifts and evasions, and frivolous distinctions : idols 
 they say are laymen's books, and a great means to stir 
 up pious thoughts and devotion in the learnedcst. I 
 say, they are no means of God's appointing, but plainly 
 the contrary : let them hear the prophets ; Jcr. x. 8 ; 
 " The stock is a doctrine of vanities." Hab. ii. 18 ; 
 " What profiteth the graven image, that the maker 
 thereof hath graven it ; the molten image and a teacher 
 of lies.-"' But they allege in their late answers, that 
 the laws of Moses, given only to the Jews, concern not 
 us under the gospel ; and remember not that idolatry 
 is forbidden as expressly: but with these wiles and 
 fallacies " compassing sea and land, like the Pharisees 
 of old, to make one proselyte," they lead away privily 
 many simple and ignorant souls, men and women, 
 " and make them twofold more the children of hell 
 than themselves, ' Matt, xxiii. 15. But the apostle 
 hath well warned us, I may say, from such deceivers 
 as these, for their mystery was then working. " I be- 
 seech you, brethren," saith he, " mark them which 
 cause divisions and offences, contrary to the doctrine 
 which ye have learned, and avoid them ; for they that 
 are such, serve not our Lord Jesus Christ, but their own 
 belly, and by good words and fair speeches deceive 
 the heart of the simple," Rom. xvi. 17, 18. 
 
 The next means to hinder the growth of popery will 
 be, to read duly and diligently the Holy Scriptures, 
 which, as St. Paul saith to Timothy, who had knowi 
 them from a child, " are able to make wise unto salva- 
 tion." And to the whole church of Colossi ; " Let the 
 word of Christ dwell in you plentifully, with all wis- 
 dom," Col. iii. 16. The papal antichristian cliurch 
 permits not her laity to read the Bible in their owa 
 tongue : our church on the contrary hath proposed if 
 to all men, and to this end translated it into English, 
 with profitable notes on what is met with obscure. 
 
OF TRUE RELIGION, HERESY, SCHISM, TOLERATION. 
 
 565 
 
 though what is most necessary to be known be still plain- 
 est ; that all sorts and degrees of men, not understand- 
 ing the original, may read it in their mother tongue. 
 Neither let the countryman, the tradesman, the lawyer, 
 the physician, the statesman, excuse himself by his 
 much business from the studious reading thereof. Our 
 Saviour saith, Luke x. 41, 42 : " Thou art careful and 
 troubled about many things, but one thing is needful." 
 If they were asked, they would be loth to set earthly 
 things, wealth or honour, before the wisdom of salva- 
 tion. Yet most men in the course and practice of their 
 lives are found to do so; and through unwillingness to 
 take the pains of understanding their religion by their 
 own diligent study, would fain be saved by a deputy. 
 Hence comes implicit faith, ever learning and never 
 taught, much hearing and small proficience, till want 
 of fundamental knowledge easily turns to superstition 
 or popery : therefore the apostle admonishes, Eph. iv. 
 14 : " That we henceforth be no more children, tossed 
 to and fro and carried about with every wind of doc- 
 trine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness 
 •whereby they lie in wait to deceive." Every member 
 of the church, at least of any breeding or capacity, so 
 well ought to be grounded in spiritual knowledge, as, 
 if need be, to examine their teachers themselves, Acts 
 xvii. 11:" They searched the Scriptures daily, whether 
 those tilings were so." Rev. ii. 2 : " Thou hast tried 
 them which say they are apostles, and are not," How 
 should any private Christian try his t2achers, unless be 
 be well grounded himself in the rule of Scripture, by 
 which he is taught. As therefore among papists, their 
 ignorance in Scripture chiefly upholds popery; so among 
 protestant people, the frequent and serious reading 
 thereof will soonest pull popery down. 
 
 Another means to abate popery, arises from the con- 
 stant reading of Scripture, wherein believers, who agree 
 in the main, are every where exhorted to mutual for- 
 bearance and charity one towards the other, though 
 dissenting in some opinions. It is written, that the 
 coat of our Saviour was without seam ; whence some 
 would infer, that there should be no division in the 
 church of Christ. It should be so indeed ; yet seams 
 in the same cloth neither hurt the garment, nor mis- 
 become it ; and not only seams, but schisms will be 
 while men are fallible : but if they who dissent in 
 matters not essential to belief, while the common ad- 
 versary is in the field, shall stand jarring and pelting 
 at one another, they will be soon routed and subdued. 
 The papist with open mouth makes much advantage of 
 our several opinions ; not that he is able to confute the 
 worst of them, but that we by our continual jangle 
 among ourselves make them worse than they are in- 
 deed. To save ourselves therefore, and resist the com- 
 mon enemy, it concerns us mainly to agree within 
 ourselves, that with joint forces we may not only hold 
 our own, but get ground : and why should we not ? 
 The gospel commands us to tolerate one another, 
 though of various opinions, and hath promised a good 
 and happy event thereof; Phil. iii. 15 : " Let us there- 
 fore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded ; and if 
 in any thing ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal 
 
 even this unto 30U." And we are bid, 1 Thess. v. 21 : 
 " Prove all things, hold fast that which is good." St. 
 Paul judged, that not only to tolerate, but to examine 
 and prove all things, was no danger to our holding fast 
 that which is good. How shall we prove all things, 
 which includes all opinions at least founded on Scrip- 
 ture, unless we not only tolerate them, but patiently 
 hear them, and seriously read them ? If he who thinks 
 himself in the truth professes to have learnt it, not by 
 implicit faith, but by attentive study of the Scriptures, 
 and full persuasion of heart ; with what equity can he 
 refuse to hear or read him, who demonstrates to have 
 gained his knowledge by the same way ? Is it a fair 
 course to assert truth, by arrogating to himself the only 
 freedom of speech, and stopping the mouths of others 
 equally gifted ? This is the direct way to bring in that 
 papistical implicit faith, which we all disclaim. They 
 pretend it would unsettle the weaker sort ; the same 
 groundless fear is pretended by the Romish clergy. At 
 least then let them have leave to write in Latin, which 
 the common people understand not; that what they 
 hold may be discussed among the learned only. We 
 suflTer the idolatrous books of papists, without this fear, 
 to be sold and read as common as our own : why not 
 much rather of anabaptists, Arians,Arminians, and Soci- 
 nians.'' There is no learned man but will confess he 
 hath much profited by reading controversies, his senses 
 awakened, his judgment sharpened, and the truth which 
 he holds more firmly established. If then it be profit- 
 able for him to read, why should it not at least be 
 tolerable and free for his adversary to write ? In logic 
 they teach, that contraries laid together more evidently 
 appear: it follows then, that all controversy being per- 
 mitted, falsehood will appear more false, and truth the 
 more true ; which must needs conduce much, not only 
 to the confounding of popery, but to the general con- 
 firmation of unimplicit truth. 
 
 The last means to avoid popery is, to amend our 
 lives : it is a general complaint, that this nation of late 
 years is grown more numerously and excessively vicious 
 than heretofore ; pride, luxury, drunkenness, whoredom, 
 cursing, swearing, bold and open atheism every where 
 abounding: where these grow, no wonder if popery 
 also grow apace. There is no man so wicked, but at 
 some times his conscience will wring him with thoughts 
 of another world, and the peril of his soul; the trouble 
 and melancholy, which he conceives of true repentance 
 and amendment, he endures not, but inclines rather to 
 some carnal superstition, which may pacify and lull his 
 conscience with some more pleasing doctrine. None 
 more ready and officious to offer herself than the 
 Romish, and opens wide her office, with all her facul- 
 ties, to receive him ; easy confession, easy absolution, 
 pardons, indulgences, masses for him both quick and 
 dead, Agnus Dei's, relics, and the like : and he, instead 
 of " working out his salvation with fear and trembling," 
 straight thinks in bis heart, (like another kind of fool 
 than he in the Psalms,) to bribe God as a corrupt judge ; 
 and by his proctor, some priest, or friar, to buy out his 
 peace with money, which he cannot with his repent- 
 ance. For God, when men sin outrageously, and will 
 
506 
 
 OF TRUE RELIGION, HERESY, SCHISM, TOLERATION. 
 
 not be adnionislicd, gives over chastizing' tliem, perhaps 
 by pestilence, fire, sword, or famine, which may all turn 
 to their good, and takes up his severest punishments, 
 hardness, besottedness of heart, and idolatry, to their 
 final perdition. Idolatry brought the heathen to hein- 
 ous transgressions, Rom. ii. And heinous transgres- 
 sions ofttimes bring the slight professors of true religion 
 to gross idolatry : 1 Thess. ii. 11, 12 : " For this cause 
 Go<i shall send them strong delusion, that they should 
 believe a lie, that they all might be damned who be- 
 
 lieve not the truth, but had pleasure in unrighteous- 
 ness." And Isaiah xliv. 18, speaking of idolaters, 
 " They have not known nor understood, for he hath 
 shut their eyes that they cannot see, and their hearts 
 that they cannot understand." Let us therefore, using 
 this last means, last here spoken of, but first to be done, 
 amend our lives with all speed ; lest through impeni- 
 tency we run into that stupidity which we now seek 
 all means so warily to avoid, the worst of superstitions, 
 and the heaviest of all God's judgments, popery. 
 
BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA, 
 
 AND OF OTHER LESS KNOWN COUNTRIES LYING EASTWARD OF RUSSIA AS 
 
 FAR AS CATHAY. 
 
 GATHERED FROM THE WRITINGS OF SEVERAL EYEWITNESSES. 
 
 [riRST PCBLISHKO 1682.] 
 
 THE PREFACE. 
 
 The study of geog^raphy is both profitable and delightful ; but the writers thereof, though some of them exact 
 enough in setting down longitudes and latitudes, yet in those other relations of manners, religion, government, 
 and such like, accounted geographical, have for the most part missed their proportions. Some too brief and 
 deficient satisfy not ; others too voluminous and impertinent cloy and weary out the reader, while they tell long 
 stories of absurd superstitions, ceremonies, quaint habits, and other petty circumstances little to the purpose. 
 Whereby that which is useful, and only worth observation, in such a wood of words, is either overslipped, or 
 soon forgotten ; which perhaps brought into the mind of some men more learned and judicious, who had not the 
 leisure or purpose to write an entire geography, yet at least to assay something in the description of one or two 
 countries, which might be as a pattern or example to render others more cautious hereafter, who intended the 
 whole work. And this perhaps induced Paulus Jovius to describe only Moscovy and Britain. Some such 
 thoughts, many years since, led me at a vacant time to attempt the like argument, and I began with Moscovy, 
 as being the most northern region of Europe reputed civil; and the more northern parts thereof first discovered 
 by English vojagers. Wherein I saw I had by much the advantage of Jovius. What was scattered in many 
 volumes, and observed at several times by eyewitnesses, with no cursory pains I laid together, to save the reader 
 a far longer travail of wandering through so many desert authors; who yet with some delight drew me after 
 them, from the eastern bounds of Russia, to the walls of Cathay, in several late joumies made thither over land 
 by Russians, wiio describe the countries in their way far otherwise than our common geographers. From pro- 
 ceeding further other occasions diverted me. This Essay, such as it is, was thought by some, who knew of it, 
 not amiss to be published ; that so many things remarkable, dispersed before, now brought under one view, 
 might not hazard to be otherwise lost, nor the labour lost of collecting them. 
 
MOSCOVIA: 
 
 RELATIONS OF MOSCOVIA, 
 
 AS FAR AS HATH BEEN DISCOVERED BV ENGLISH VOYAGES ; 
 
 GATHERED FROM THE WRITINGS OF SEVERAL EYEWITNESSES: 
 
 AND THE OTHER LESS KNOWN COUNTRIES LYING EASTWARD OF RUSSIA AS FAR AS CATHAY, 
 LATELY DISCOVERED AT SEVERAL TIMES BY THE RUSSIANS. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 A brief description. 
 
 The empire of Moscovia, or as others call it Russia, 
 is bounded on the north with Lapland and tlie ocean ; 
 southward by the Crim Tartar; on the west by Lithu- 
 ania, Livonia, and Poland ; on the east by the river Ob, 
 or Oby, and the Nagayan Tartars on the Volga as far 
 as Astracan. 
 
 The north parts of this country are so barren, that 
 the inhabitants fetch their com a thousand miles ;* and 
 so cold in winter, that the very sap of their woodfuel 
 burning' on the fire freezes at the brand's end, where it 
 drops. The mariners, which were left on shipboard in 
 the first English voyage thither, in going up only from 
 the cabins to the hatches,'' had their breath so congealed 
 by the cold, that they fell down as it were stifled. The 
 bay of St. Nicholas, where they first put in,*: lieth in 
 sixty-four degrees; called so from the abbey there built 
 of wood, wherein are twenty monks, unlearned, as then 
 they found them, and great drunkards : their church is 
 fair, full of images and tapers. There are besides but 
 six houses, whereof one built by the English. In the 
 bay over against the abbey is Rose Island, ^ full of 
 damask and red roses, violets, and wild rosemary ; the 
 isle is in circuit seven or eight miles ; about the midst 
 of May, the snow there is cleared, having two months 
 been melting ; then the ground in fourteen days is 
 dry, and grass knee-deep within a month ; after Sep- 
 tember frost returns, and snow a yard high : it hath a 
 house built by the English near to a fresh fair spring. 
 North-cast of the abbey, on the other side of Duina, is 
 the castle of Archangel, where the English have an- 
 other house. The river Duina, beginning about seven 
 
 • Hack. til. 
 c Ibid. 376. 
 
 b Ibid. vol. i. S48. 
 d Ibid. 36d. 
 
 hundred miles within the country, having first re- 
 ceived Pinega, falls here into the sea, very large and 
 swift, but shallow. It runneth pleasantly between 
 hills on either side ; beset like a wilderness with high 
 fir and other trees. Their boats of timber, without any 
 iron in them, are either to sail, or to be di-awn up with 
 ropes against the stream. 
 
 North-east beyond Archangel standeth Lampas,« 
 where twice a-year is kept a great fair of Russes, Tar- 
 tars, and Saraoeds ; and to the landward Mezen, and 
 Slobotca, two towns of traffic between the river Pecho- 
 ra, or Petzora, and Duina : to seaward lies the cape of 
 Candinos, and the island of Colgoieve, about thirty 
 leagues from the bar of Pechory in sixty-nine degrees.^ 
 
 The river Pechora or Petzora, holding his course 
 through Siberia, how far tlie Russians thereabouts 
 know not, runneth into the sea at seventy-two mouths, 
 full of ice ; abounding with swans, ducks, geese, and 
 partridge, which they take in July, sell the feathers, 
 and salt the bodies for winter provision. On this river 
 spreading to a lake stands the town of Pustozera in 
 sixty-eight degrees,^ having some eighty or a hundred 
 houses, where certain merchants of Hull wintered iu 
 the year sixteen hundred and eleven. The town Pe- 
 chora, small and poor, hath three churches. They 
 traded there up the river four days' journey to Oustzil- 
 ma a small town of sixty houses. The Russians that 
 have travelled say, that this river springs out of the 
 mountains of Jougoria, and runs through Permia. Not 
 far from the mouth thereof are the straits of Vaigats, 
 of which hereafter: more eastward is the point of 
 Naramzy, the next to that the river Ob \^ beyond which 
 the Moscovites have extended lately their dominion. 
 Touching the Riphtean mountains, whence Tanais was 
 anciently thought to spring, our men could hear no- 
 thing ; but rather that the whole country is champaign, 
 
 e Ibid. ?84. 
 ( Ibid. Pure. 
 
 t Pure, part .1. 513. 
 h Pure. M'.i, 445,^31. 
 
A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 569 
 
 and in the northernmost part huge and desert woods of 
 fir, abounding" with black wolves, bears, buffs, and an- 
 other beast called rossomakka, whose female bring-eth 
 forth bj passing- through some narrow place, as be- 
 tween two stakes, and so presseth her womb to a 
 disburdening. Travelling southward they found the 
 country more pleasant, fair, and better inhabited, corn, 
 pasture, meadows, and huge woods. Arkania (if it be 
 not the same with Archangel) is a place of English 
 trade, from whence a day's journey distant, but from 
 St. Nicholas a hundred versts,' Colmogro stands on the 
 Duina; a great town not walled, but scattered. The 
 English have here lands of their own, given them by 
 the emperor, and fair houses: not far beyond, Pinega, 
 running between rocks of alabaster and great woods, 
 meets with Duina. From Colmogro to Ustiug are five 
 hundred vcrsts or little miles, an ancient city upon the 
 confluence of Juga and Sucana into Duina,'' which 
 there first receives his name. Thence continuing by 
 water to Wologda, a great city so named of the river 
 which passes through the midst; it hath a castle walled 
 about with brick and stone, and many wooden churches, 
 two for every parish, the one in winter to be heated, 
 the other used in summer; this is a town of much 
 traffic, a thousand miles from St. Nicholas. All this 
 way by water no lodging is to be had but under open 
 sky by the river side, and other provision only what 
 they bring with them. From Wologda by sled they go 
 to Yeraslave on the Volga, whose I readth is there at 
 least a mile over, and thence runs two thousand seven 
 hundred versts to the Caspian sea,' having his head 
 spring out of Bealozera, which is a lake, amidst whereof 
 is built a strong tower, wherein the kings of Moscovy 
 reserve their treasure in time of war. From this town 
 to Rostove, then to Percslave, a great town situate on 
 a fair lake ; thence to Mosco. 
 
 Between Yeraslave and Mosco, which is two hun- 
 dred miles, the country is so fertile, so populous and 
 full of villages, that in a forenoon seven or eight hundred 
 sleds are usually seen coming with salt-fish, or laden 
 back with corn."" 
 
 Mosco the chief city, lying in fifty-five degrees, dis- 
 tant from St. Nicholas fifteen hundred miles, is reputed 
 to be greater than London with the suburbs, but rudely 
 built ;" their houses and churches most of timber, few 
 of stone, their streets unpaved ; it hath a lair castle 
 four-square, upon a hill, two miles about, with brick 
 walls very high, and some say eighteen foot thick, six- 
 teen gates, and as many bulwarks ; in the castle are 
 kept the chief markets, and in winter on the river, being 
 then firm ice. This river Moscua on the south-west side 
 encloses the castle, wherein are nine fair churches with 
 round gilded towers, and the emperor's palace ; which 
 neither within nor without is equal for state to the 
 king's houses in England, but rather like our buildings 
 of old fashion, with small windows, some of glass, some 
 •with lattices, or iron bars. 
 
 They who travel from Mosco to the Caspian, go by 
 water down the Moscua to the river Occa f then by 
 
 i Hack. 376. 
 
 Ill Ibid. 251.335. 
 
 k Ibid. 312. 
 n Ibid. 313. 
 
 1 Ibid. 377. 218- 
 
 certain castles to Rezan, a famous city now ruinate ; 
 the tenth day to Nysnovogrod, where Occa falls into 
 Volga, which the Tartars call Edel. From thence the 
 eleventh day to Cazan a Tartar city of great wealth 
 heretofore, now under the Russian ; walled at first with 
 timber and earth, but since by the emperor Vasilivvich 
 with freestone. From Cazan, to the river Cama, falling 
 into Volga from the province of Permia, the people 
 dwelling on the left side are Gentiles, and live in woods 
 without houses :^ beyond them to Astracan, Tartars of 
 Mangat, and Nagay : on the right side those of Crim- 
 me. From Mosco to Astracan is about six hundred 
 leagues. The town is situate in an island on a hill-side 
 walled with earth, but the castle with earth and tim- 
 ber; the houses, except that of the governor, and some 
 few others, poor and simple ; the ground utterly bar- 
 ren, and without wood : they live there on fish, and 
 sturgeon especially; which hanging up to dry in the 
 streets and houses brings whole swarms of flies, and 
 infection to the air, and oft great pestilence. This island 
 in length twelve leagues, three in breadth, is the Rus- 
 sian limit toward the Caspian, which he keeps with a 
 strong garrison, being twenty leagues from that sea, 
 into which Volga falls at seventy mouths. From St. 
 Nicholas, or from Mosco to the Caspian, they pass in 
 forty-six days and nights, most j)art by water. 
 
 Westward from St. Nicholas twelve hundred miles is 
 the city.'i Novogrod fifty-eight degrees, the greatest 
 mart town of all this dominion, and in bigness not in- 
 ferior to Mosco. The way thither is through the western 
 bottom of St. Nicholas bay, and so along the shore full 
 of dangerous rocks to the monaster}' Solofky, wherein 
 are at least two hundred monks; the people thereabout 
 in a manner savages, yet tenants to those monks. 
 Thence to the dangerous river Owiga, wherein are wa- 
 terfalls as steep as from a mountain, and by the violence 
 of their descent kept from freezing : so that the boats 
 are to be carried there a mile over land ; which the te- 
 nants of that abbey did by command, and were guides 
 to the merchants without taking any reward. Thence 
 to the town Poveusa, standing within a mile of the 
 famous lake Onega three hundred and twenty miles 
 long, and in some places seventy, at narrowest twenty- 
 five broad, and of great depth. Thence by some mo- 
 nasteries to the river Swire ; then into the lake Ladis- 
 cay much longer than Onega ; after which into the river 
 Volhusky, which through the midst of Novogrod runs 
 into this lake, and this lake into the Baltic sound by 
 Narva and Revel. Their other cities toward the western 
 bound are Plesco, Smolensko, orVobsco. 
 
 The emperor exerciseth absolute power: if any man 
 die without male issue, his land returns to the empe- 
 ror."" Any lich man, who through age or other impo- 
 tency is unable to serve the public, being informed of, 
 is turned out of his estate, and forced with his family 
 to live on a small pension, while some other more de- 
 serving is by the duke's authority put into possession. 
 The manner of infornnng the duke is thus : Your grace, 
 saith one, hath such a subject, abounding with riches, 
 
 o Ibid. ,3(!5. 
 q Ibid. 365. 
 
 p TMd. 334. 
 r Ibid. 240. 
 
5ro 
 
 A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 but for the service of tlie state unmeet ; and you have 
 others poor and in want, hut well able to do their coun- 
 try good service. Immediately the duke sends forth to 
 inquire, and calling the rich man before him. Friend, 
 saitb he, you have too much living-, and are unservice- 
 able to your prince ; less will serve you, and the rest 
 maintain others who deserve more. The man thus 
 called to impart his wealth repines not, but humbly 
 answers, that all he hath is God's and the duke's, as if 
 he made restitution of what more justly was another's, 
 than parted with his own. Every gentleman hath rule 
 and justice over his own tenants : if the tenants of two 
 gentlemen agree not, they seek to compose it; if they 
 cannot, each brings his tenant before the high judge 
 of that country. They have no lawyers, but every man 
 pleads his own cause, or else by bill or answer in 
 writing delivers it with bis own hands to the duke: 
 yet justice, by corruption of inferior officers, is much 
 penerted. Where other proof is wanted, they may trj' 
 the matter by personal combat, or by champion. If a 
 debtor be poor, he becomes bondman to the duke, who 
 lets out his labour till it pay the debt ; till then he re- 
 mains in bondage. Another trial they have by lots.* 
 
 The revenues of the emperor are what he list, and 
 what his subjects are able; and he omits not the 
 coarsest means to raise them: for in every good town 
 there is a drunken tavern, called a Cursemay, which 
 the emperor either lets out to farm, or bestows on some 
 duke, or gentleman,* in reward of his service, who for 
 that time is lord of the whole town, robbing and spoil- 
 ing at his pleasure, till being well enriched, he is sent 
 at his own charge to the wars, and there squeezed of 
 his ill-got wealth ; by which means the waging of war 
 is to the emperor little or nothing chargeable. 
 
 The Russian armeth not less in time of war than 
 three hundred thousand men," half of whom he takes 
 with him into the field, the rest bestows in garrisons 
 on the borders. Ke presseth no husbandman or mer- 
 chant but the youth of the realm. He useth no foot, 
 but such as are pioneers, or gunners, of both which sort 
 thirty thousand. The rest being horsemen, are ail 
 archers, and ride with a short stirrup, after the Turkish. 
 Their armour is a coat of plate, and a skull on their 
 heads. Some of their coats are covered with velvet, or 
 cloth of gold ; for they desire to be gorgeous in arms, 
 but the duke himself above measure ; his pavilion 
 covered with cloth of gold or silver, set with precious 
 stones. They use little drums at the saddle-bow, in- 
 stead of spurs, for at the sound thereof the horses run 
 more swiftly. 
 
 They fight without order;* nor willingly give battle, 
 but by stealth or ambush. Of cold and hard diet mar- 
 vellously patient; for when the ground is covered with 
 snow frozen a yard thick, the common soldier will lie 
 in the field two months together withouttent, or cover- 
 ing over head ; only hangs up his mantle against that 
 part from whence the weather drives, and kindling a 
 little fire, lies him down before it, with his back under 
 the wind : his drink, the cold stream mingled with 
 
 * H»c. 309. 
 
 S lbi<i. 311. iHl. 
 
 t Ibi<l. M*. H IbW. 839. 830. b Tbiil. S9>. 
 
 >- Ibid. 316. zibid. C53. a lUd. 842, 321. e Ibid. 388. 
 
 oatmeal, and the same all his food : his horse, fed with 
 green wood and bark, stands all this while in the open 
 field, yet does his service. The emperor gives no pay 
 at all, but to strangers ; yet repays good deserts in war 
 with certain lands during life; and they who oftenest 
 are sent to the wars, think themselves most favoured,^ 
 though serving without wages. On the twelfth of 
 December yearly, the emperor rides into the field, 
 which is without the city, with all his nobility, on jen- 
 nets and Turkey horses in great state ; before him five 
 thousand harquebusiers, who shoot at a bank of ice, till 
 they beat it down ; the ordnance, which they have very 
 fair of all sorts, they plant against two wooden houses 
 filled with earth at least thirty foot thick, and begin- 
 ning with the smallest, shoot them all off thrice over, 
 having beat those two houses flat. Above the rest six 
 great cannon they have, whose bullet is a yard high, 
 so that a man may see it flying : then out of mortar- 
 pieces they shoot wildfire into the air. Thus the em- 
 peror having seen what his gunners can do, returns 
 home in the same order. 
 
 They follow the Greek churchy but with excess of 
 superstitions :^ their service is in the Russian tongue. 
 They hold the ten commandments not to concern themi 
 saying, that God gave them under the law, whicll 
 Christ by his death on the cross hath abrogated : thi 
 eucharist they receive in both kinds. They observe 
 four lents, have service in their churches daily, froi 
 two hours before dawn till evening;* yet for whores 
 dom, drunkenness, and extortion none worse than thi 
 clergy. 
 
 They have many great and rich monasteries,b when 
 they keep great hospitality. That of Trojetes hath ii 
 it seven hundred friars, and is walled about with brici 
 very strongly, having many pieces of brass ordnanc< 
 on the walls ; most of the lands, towns, and village! 
 within forty miles belong to those monks, who are als< 
 as great merchants as any in the land. During Eastei 
 holydays when two friends meet, they take each othel 
 by the hand ; one of them saying. The Lord is risen; 
 the other answering,«= It is so of a truth ; and then thej 
 kiss, whether men or women. The emperor esteemetli 
 the metropolitan next to God, after our lady, and St 
 Nicholas, as being his spiritual officer, himself but bil 
 temporal. <i But the Muscovites that border on Tarta^ 
 ria are yet pagans. 
 
 When there is love between two,e the man, among 
 other trifling gifts, sends to the woman a whip, to sig" 
 nify, if she oflTend, what she must expect ; and it is ; 
 rule among them, that if the wife be not beaten once i 
 week, she thinks herself not beloved, and is the worse; 
 yet they are very obedient, and stir not forth, but a! 
 some seasons. Upon utter dislike, the husband di- 
 vorces; which liberty no doubt they received first wit^ 
 their religion from the Greek church.^ and the imperia 
 laws. 
 
 Their dead they bury with new shoes on their feet,< 
 as to a long journey ; and put letters testimonial il 
 their hands to St. Nicholas, or St. Peter, that this wa 
 
 r IbM. .318. 
 f Ibid. 314. 
 
 d Ibid. 390. ?*4. 
 g Ibid. 84C, 8M, 383. 
 
 
A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 571 
 
 a Russe or Russes, and died in the true faith ; which, 
 as they believe, St. Peter having read, forthwith admits 
 him into heaven. 
 
 They have no learning','" nor will suffer to be among^ 
 them; their greatest friendship is drinking; they are 
 great talkers, liars, flatterers, and dissemblers. They 
 delight in gross meats and noisome fish ; their drink is 
 better, being sundry sorts of meath ; the best made 
 with juice of a sweet and crimson berry called Maliena, 
 growing also in France ;' other sorts with blackcherry, 
 or divers other berries : another drink they use in the 
 spring drawn from the birch-tree root, whose sap after 
 June dries up. But there are no people that live so 
 miserably as the poor of Russia ; if they have straw 
 and water they make shift to live ; for straw dried and 
 stamped in winter time is their bread ; in summer grass 
 and roots ; at all times bark of trees is good meat with 
 them ; yet many of them die in the street for hunger, 
 none relieving or regarding them. 
 
 When they are sent into foreign countries,'' or that 
 strangers come thither, they are very sumptuous in 
 apparel, else the duke himself goes but meanly. 
 
 In winter they travel only upon sleds,' the ways 
 being hard, and smooth with snow, the rivers all 
 frozen : one horse with a sled will draw a man four 
 hundred miles in three days; in summer the way is 
 deep, and travelling ill. The Kussc of better sort goes 
 not out in winter, but on his sled ; in summer on his 
 horse : in his sled he sits on a carpci, or a white bear's 
 skin ; the sled drawn with a horse well decked, with 
 many fox or wolf tails about his neck, guided by a boy 
 on his back, other servants riding on the tail of the 
 sled. 
 
 The Russian sea breeds a certain beast which they 
 call a morse;"" who seeks his food on the rocks, climb- 
 ing up with help of his teeth ; whereof they make as 
 great account as we of the elephant's tooth. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Of Samdedia, Siberia, and other countries north-east, 
 subject to the Muscovites. 
 
 North-east of Russia lieth Samoedia by the river 
 Ob. This country was first discovered by Oneke a 
 Russian ; v\ho first trading privately among them in 
 rich furs, got great wealth, and the knowledge of their 
 country; then revealed his discovery to Boris protector 
 to Pheodor, shewing how beneficial that country gain- 
 ed would be to the empire. Who sending embassadors 
 among them gallantly attired, by fair means won their 
 subjection to the empire, every head paying yearly two 
 skins of richest sables. Those messengers travelling 
 also two hundred leagues beyond Ob eastward, made 
 report of pleasant countries, abounding with woods and 
 fountains, and people riding on elks and loshes ; others 
 
 h TIac. 241, 314. 
 1 Ihid. .'314. 
 
 i Ibid. 32.1. k Ibid. 239. 
 
 m Ibid. 252. a Purcli. part 3. p. 543, 510. 
 
 drawn on sleds by rein-deer ; others by dogs as swift 
 as deer. The Samoeds that came along with those mes- 
 sengers, returning to Mosco, admired the stateliness of 
 that city, and were as much admired for excellent 
 shooters, hitting every time the breadth of a penny, as 
 far distant as hardly could be discerned. 
 
 The river Ob is reported ^ by the Russes to be in 
 breadth the sailing of a summer's day ; but full of 
 islands and shoals, having neither woods, nor, till of late, 
 inhabitants. Out of Ob they turn into the river Tawze. 
 The Russians have here, since the Samoeds yielded 
 them subjection, two governors, with three or four 
 hundred gunners; have built villages and some small 
 castles ; all which place they call Mongozey or Mol- 
 gomsay.'' Further upland they have also built other 
 cities of wood, consisting chiefly of Poles, Tartars, and 
 Russes, fugitive or condemned men ; as Vergateria, 
 Siber, whence the whole country is named, Tinna, 
 thence Tobolsca on this side Ob, on the rivers Irtis, 
 and Tobol, chief seat of the Russian governor; above 
 that, Zergolta in an island of Ob, where they have a 
 customhouse. Beyond that on the other side Ob, Na- 
 rim, and Tooina, now a great city.« Certain churches 
 also are erected in those parts ; but no man forced to 
 religion ; beyond Narim eastward on the river Teltais 
 built the castle of Comgoscoi, and all this plantation 
 began since the year 1590, with many other towns like 
 these. And these are the countries from whence come 
 all the sables and rich furs. 
 
 The Samoeds have no towns or certain place of abode, 
 but up and down where they find moss for their deer;* 
 they live in companies peaceably, and are governed by 
 some oi the ancientest amongst them, but are idolaters. 
 They shoot wondrous cunningly ; their arrow-heads 
 are sharpened stones, or fish bones, which latter serve 
 them also for needles ; their thread being the sinews 
 of certain small beasts, wherewith they sow the furs 
 which clothe them; the furry side in summer outward, 
 in winter inward. They have many wives, and their 
 daughters they sell to him who bids most; which, if 
 they be not liked, are turned back to their friends, the 
 husband allowing only to the father what the marriage 
 feast stood him in. Wives are brought to bed there by 
 their husbands, and the next day go about as before. 
 They till not the ground ; but live on tlie flesh of those 
 wild beasts which they hunt. They are the only guides 
 to such as travel Jougoria, Siberia, or any of those 
 north-east parts in winter ;« being drawn on sleds with 
 bucks riding post day and night, if it be moonlight, 
 and lodge on the snow under tents of deer-skins, in 
 whatever place they find enough of white moss to feed 
 their sled-stags, turning them loose to dig it up them- 
 selves out of the deep snow : another Samoed, stepping 
 to the next wood, brings in store of firing : round about 
 which they lodge within their tents, leaving the top 
 open to vent smoke ; in which manner they are as warm 
 as the stoves in Russia. They carry provision of meat 
 with them, and partake besides of what fowl or veni- 
 son the Samoed kills with shooting by the way ; their 
 
 b Ibid. 524. 526. 
 d Ibid. 522. 555. 
 
 c Purch. part 3. p. 526, 527. 
 e Ibid. 518. 
 
672 
 
 A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 drink is melted snow. Two deer being yoked to a sled, 
 riding post, will draw two hundred miles in twenty- 
 four hours without resting, and laden with their stuff, 
 will draw it thirty miles in twelve. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Of Tingoesia, and the countries adjoining eastward, 
 as far as Cathay. 
 
 Beyond Narim and Comgoscoi * the soldiers of those 
 garrisons, travelling by appointment of the Russian 
 governor in the year 1605, found many goodly coun- 
 tries not inhabited, many vast deserts and rivers ; till 
 at the end of ten weeks they spied certain cottages and 
 herds, or companies of people, which came to them with 
 reverent behaviour, and signified to the Samoeds and 
 Tartars, which were guides to the Russian soldiers, 
 that they were called Tingoesi; that their dwelling 
 was on the great river Jenissey. This river is said to 
 be far bigger than Ob,'* distant from the mouth thereof 
 four days and nights sailing; and likewise falls into 
 the sea of Naramzie : it hath high mountains on the 
 east, some of which cast out fire, to the west a plain and 
 fertile country, which in the spring-time it overflows 
 about seventy leagues ; all that time the inhabitants 
 keep them in the mountains, and then return with their 
 cattJe to the plain. The Tingoesi are a very gentle 
 nation, they have great svvoln throats.c like those in 
 Italy that live under the Alps ; at persuasion of the 
 Samoeds they forthwith submitted to the Russian go- 
 veniment : and at their request travelling the next year 
 to discover still eastward, they came at length to a river, 
 which the savages of that place called Pisida,'' some- 
 what less than Jenissey ; beyond which hearing ofttimes 
 the tolling of brazen bells, and sometimes the noise of 
 men and horses, they durst not pass over; they saw there 
 certain sails afar off, square, and therefore supposed to 
 belike Indian or China sails, and the rather for that they 
 report that great guns have been heard shot off from 
 those vessels. In April and May they were much de- 
 lighted with the fair prospect of that country, reple- 
 nished with many rare trees, plants, and flowers, beasts 
 and fowl. Some think here to be the borders of Tan- 
 gut in the north of Cathay.' Some of those Samoeds, 
 about the year 1610, travelled so far till they came in 
 view of a white city, and heard a great din of bells, 
 and report there came to them men all armed in iron 
 from head to foot. And in the year 1611, divers out 
 of Cathay, and others from Altcen Czar, who styles 
 himself the golden king, came and traded at Zergolta, 
 or Surgoot, on the river Ob, bringing with them plates 
 of silver. Whereupon Michael Plieodorowich the Rus- 
 sian emperor, in theyear 1619, sentcertain of his people 
 fromTooma to Alteen, and Cathay, who retunied with 
 embassadors from those princes. These relatc,*^ that 
 fromTooma in ten days and a half, three days whereof 
 over a lake, where rubies and sapphires grow, they 
 • Pareh. part S. p. 327. b Ibid. 527,551. Mfu 0C7- c ll.id. 
 
 came to the Alteen king, or king of Alty; through hii 
 land in five weeks they passed into the country o 
 Sheromugaly, or Mugalla, where reigned a queel 
 called Manchica ; whence in four days they came 
 the borders of Cathay, fenced with a stone wall, fifteeJ 
 fathom high; along the side of which, having on th< 
 other hand many pretty towns belonging to Queei 
 Manchica, they travelled ten days without seeing anj 
 on the wall, till they came to the gate ; where ihey sai 
 very great ordnance lying, and three thousand men ii 
 watch. They traffic with other nations at the gate, am 
 very few at once are suflTered to enter. They wer 
 travelling from Tooma to this gate twelve weeks; am 
 from thence to the great city of Cathay ten daya 
 Where being conducted to the house of embassadoi'fl 
 within a hw days there came a secretary from Kin( 
 Tanibur, with two hundred men well apparelled 
 and riding on asses, to feast them with divers sort 
 of wine, and to demand their message; but having 
 brought no presents with them, tiiey could not l> 
 admitted to his sight; only with his letter to thi 
 emperor they returned, as is aforesaid, to Tobolsca. 
 They report, that the land of Mugalla reaches from 
 Boghar to the north sea,8 and hath many castles built 
 of stone, foursquare, with towers at the corners covered 
 with glazed tiles ; and on the gates alarm-bells, or 
 watch-bells, twenty pound weight of metal ; their 
 houses built also of stone, the ceilings cunningly 
 painted vvith flowers of all colours. The people are 
 idolaters ; the country exceeding fruitful. They have 
 asses and mules, but no horses. The people of Cathay 
 say, that this great wall stretches from Boghar to the 
 north sea, four months journey, with continual towers 
 a slight shot distant from each other, and beacons on 
 every tower ; and that this wall is the bound between 
 Magulla and Cathay. In which are but five gates ; 
 those narrow, and so low, that a horseman sitting up- 
 right cannot ride in. Next to the wall is the city Shi- 
 rokalga; it hath a castle well furnished with short 
 ordnance and small shot, which they who keep watch 
 on the gates, towers, and walls, duly at sun-set and 
 rising discharge thrice over. The city abounds with 
 rich merchandise, velvets, damasks, cloth of gold, and 
 tissue, with many sorts of sugars. Like to this is the 
 city Yara, their markets smell odoriferously with spices, 
 and Tayth more rich than that. Shirooan yet more 
 magnificent, half a daj-'s journey through, and exceed- 
 ing populous. From hence to Cathaia the imperial 
 city is two days journey, built of white stone, four- 
 square, in circuit four days going, cornered with four 
 white towers, very high and great, and others very fair 
 along the wall, white intermingled with blue, and loop- 
 holes furnished with ordnance. In the midst of this 
 white city stands a castle built of magnet, where the 
 king dwells, in a sumptuous palace, the top whereof is 
 overlaid with gold. The city stands on even ground 
 encompassed with the river Youga, seven days journey 
 from the sea. The people are very fair but not war- 
 like, delighting most in rich traffick. These relations 
 are referred hither, because we have them from Rus- 
 
 dlbid. SC8. e Ibid. 543, 5ir.. flbiil. 707. K Ibid. 7W. 
 
A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 573 
 
 sians; who report also, that there is a sea heyoiid ^ Ob, 
 so warm, that all kind of seafowl live thereabout as 
 well in winter as in summer. Thus much briefly of the 
 sea and lands between Russia and Cathay. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 The succession of Moscovia dukes and emperors, taken 
 out of their chronicles by a Polac, with some later 
 additions.^ 
 
 The great dukes of Moscovy derive their pedigree, 
 though without ground, from Augustus Ctesar: whom 
 they fable to have sent certain of his kingdom to be 
 governors over many remote provinces ; and among 
 them, Prussus over Prussia ; him to have had his seat 
 on the eastern Baltic shore by the river Wixel ; of 
 whom Rurek, Sinaus, and Truuor descended by the 
 fourth generation, were by tlie Russians, living then 
 without civil government, sent for in the year 573, to 
 bear rule over them, at the persuasion of Gostoraislius 
 chief citizen of Novogrod. They therefore, taking 
 with them Olechus their kinsman, divided those coun- 
 tries among themselves, and each in his province 
 taught them civil government. 
 
 Ivor, son of Rurek, the rest dying without issue, be- 
 came successor to them all ; being left in nonage un- 
 der the protection of Olechus. He took to wife Olha 
 daughter to a citizen of Plesco, of whom he begat Sto- 
 slaus ; but after that being slain by his enemies, Olha 
 his wife went to Constantinople, and was there bap- 
 tized Helena. 
 
 Stoslaus fought many battles with his enemies ; but 
 was at length by them slain, who made a cup of his 
 skull, engraven with this sentence in gold ; " Seeking 
 after other men's, he lost his own." His sons wereTe- 
 ropulchus, Olega, and Volodimir. 
 
 Volodiniir, having slain the other two, made himself 
 sole lord of Russia ; yet after that fact inclining to 
 christian religion, had to wife Anna sister of Basilius 
 and Constantine Greek emperors; and with all liis 
 people, in the year 988, was baptized, and called Ba- 
 silius. Howbeit Zonaras reporteth, that before that 
 time Basilius the Greek emperor sent a bishop to them ; 
 at whose preaching they not being moved, but requir- 
 ing a miracle, he after devout prayers, taking the book 
 of gospel into his hands, threw it before them all into 
 the fire ; which remaining there unconsumed, they 
 were converted. 
 
 Volodimir had eleven sons, among whom he divided 
 his kingdom ; Boristus and Globus for their holy life 
 registered saints ; and their feast kept every year in 
 November with great solemnity. The rest, through 
 contention to have the sole government, ruined each 
 other ; leaving only Jaroslaus inheritor of all. 
 
 Volodimir, son of Jaroslaus, kept his residence in the 
 ancient city Kiow upon the river Boristhenes. And 
 
 h Purch. p. 806. 
 
 after many conflicts with the sons of his uncles and 
 having subdued all, was called Monomachus. He 
 made war with Constantine the Greek emperor, wasted 
 Thracia, and returning home with great spoils to pre- 
 pare new war, was appeased by Constantine ; who sent 
 Neophytus bishop of Ephesus, and Eustathius abbot of 
 Jerusalem, to present him with part of our Saviour's 
 cross, and other rich gifts, and to salute him by the 
 name of Czar, or Ctesar : with whom he thenceforth 
 entered into league and amity. 
 
 After him in order of descent Vuszevolod us, George, 
 Demetrius. 
 
 Then George his son, who in the year 1237 was slain 
 in battle by the Tartar prince Bathy, who subdued 
 Muscovia, and made it tributary. From that time the 
 Tartariaus made such dukes of Russia, as they thought 
 would be most pliable to their ends ; of whom they re- 
 quired, as oft as embassadors came to him out of Tar- 
 tary, to go out and meet them ; and in his own court 
 to stand bareheaded, while they sate and delivered their 
 message. At which time the Tartars wasted also Po- 
 lonia, Selesia, and Hungaria, till pope Innocent the 
 Fourth obtained peace of them for five years. This 
 Bathy, say the Russians, was the father of Tamerlane, 
 whom they call Temirkutla. 
 
 Then succeeded Jaroslaus, the brother of George, 
 then Alexander his son. 
 
 Daniel, the son of Alexander, was he who first made 
 the city of Mosco his royal seat, builded the castle, and 
 took on him the title of great duke. 
 
 John, the son of Daniel, was surnamed Kaleta, that 
 word signifying a scrip, out of which, continually car- 
 ried about with him, he was wont to deal his alms. 
 
 His son Simeon, dying without issue, left the king- 
 dom to John his next brother ; and he to his son De- 
 metrius, who left two sons, Basilius and George. 
 
 Basilius reigning had a son of his own name, but 
 doubting lest not of his own body, through the suspicion 
 he had of his wife's chastity, him he disinherits, and 
 gives the dukedom to his brother George. 
 
 George, putting his nephew Basilius in prison, 
 reigns; yet at his death, either through remorse, or 
 other cause, surrenders him the dukedom. 
 
 Basilius, unexpectedly thus attaining his supposed 
 right, enjoyed it not long in quiet; for Andrew and 
 Demetrius, the two sons of George, counting it injury 
 not to succeed their father, made war upon him, and 
 surprising him on a sudden, put out his eyes. Not- 
 withstanding which, the boiarens, or nobles, kept their 
 allegiance to the duke, though blind, whom therefore 
 they called Cziemnox. 
 
 John Vasiliwich, his son, was the first who brought 
 the Russian name out of obscurity into renown. To 
 secure his own estate, he put to death as many of his 
 kindred, as were likely to pretend ; and styled himself 
 great duke of Wolodimiria, Moscovia, Novogardia, 
 Czar of all Russia. He won Plesco, the only walled 
 city in all Muscovy, and Novogrod, the richest, from 
 the Litliuanians, to whom they had been subject fifty 
 years before ; and from the latter carried home three 
 a Hac. vol. i. p. 221. 
 
674 
 
 A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 hundred waergons laden with treasure. He had war 
 with Alexander king of Poland, and with the Livoni- 
 ans; with him, on pretence of withdrawing his daugh- 
 ter Helena, whom he had to wife, from the Greek 
 church to the Romish ; with the Livonians for no other 
 cause, but to enlarge his bounds : though he were often 
 foiled bj Plettebergius, great master of the Prussian 
 knights. His wife was daughter to the duke of Ty- 
 versky ; of her he begat John ; and to him resigned 
 his dukedom; giving him to wife the daughter of Ste- 
 ven, palatine of Moldavia ; by whom he had issue 
 Demetrius, and deceased soon after. Vasiliwich, there- 
 fore, reassuniing the dukedom, married a second wife 
 Sophia, daughter to Thomas Palteologus : who is said 
 to have received her dowry out of the pope's treasury, 
 upon promise of the duke to become Romish. 
 
 This princess, of a haughty mind, often complaining 
 that she was married to the Tartar's vassal, at length by 
 continual persuasions, and by a wile, found means to 
 ease her husband and his country of that yoke. For 
 whereas till then the Tartar had his procurators, who 
 dwelt in the very castle of Mosco, to oversee state 
 affairs, she feigned that from heaven she had been 
 warned, to build a temple to saint Nicholas on the 
 same place where the Tartar agents had their house. 
 Being therefore delivered of a son, she made it her re- 
 quest to the prince of Tartary, whom she had invited 
 to the baptizing, that he would give her that house, 
 which obtaining, she razed to the ground, and removed 
 those overseers out of the castle ; and so by degrees 
 dispossessed them of a!l which they held in Russia. 
 She prevailed also with her husband, to transfer the 
 dukedom from Demetrius the son of John deceased, to 
 Gabriel his eldest by her. 
 
 Gabriel, no sooner duke, but changed his name to 
 Basilius, and set his mind to do nobly; he recovered 
 great part of Moscovy from Vitoldus duke of Lithu- 
 ania; and on the Boristhenes won Smolensko and 
 many other cities in the year 1514. He divorced his 
 first wife, and of Helena daughter to duke Glinski be- 
 gat Juan Vasiliwich. 
 
 Juan Vasiliwich, being left a child, was committed 
 to George his uncle and protector; at twent^'-five years 
 of age he vanquished the Tartars of Cazan and Astra- 
 can, bringing home with him their princes captive ; 
 Blade cruel war in Livonia, pretending right of inherit- 
 ance. He seemed exceedingly devout ; and whereas 
 the Russians in their churches use out of zeal and re- 
 verence to knock their heads against the ground, his 
 forehead was seldom free of swellings and bruises, and 
 very often seen to bleed. The cause of his rigour in 
 government he alleged to be the malice and treachery 
 of his subjects. But some of the '' nobles, incited by 
 his cruelty, called in the Crim Tartar, who in the year 
 1571 broke into Rus.sia, burnt Mosco to the ground. 
 He reigned fifty-four years, had three sons, of which 
 the eldest, being strook on a time by his father, with 
 grief thereof died ; his other sons were Pheodor and 
 Demetrius. In the time of Juan Vasiliwich the Eng- 
 lish came first by sea into the north parts of Russia. 
 
 b Honty't Obeervatioo*. c IIbc. vol. 166. I 
 
 Pheodor Juanowich, being under age, was left to 
 the protection of Boris, brother to the young empress, 
 and third son by adoption in the emperor's will.<= After 
 forty days of mourning, the appointed time of corona- 
 tion being come, the emperor issuing out of his palace,"* 
 the whole clergy before him, entered with his nobility 
 the church of Blaveshina or blessedness; whence after 
 service to the church of Michael, then to our lady 
 church, being the cathedral. In midst whereof a chair 
 was placed, and most unvaluable garments put upon 
 him ; there also was the imperial crown set on his head 
 by the metropolitan, who out of a small book in his 
 hand read exhortations to the emperor of justice and 
 peaceable government. After this, rising from his chair 
 he was invested with an upper robe, so thick with 
 orient pearls and stones, as weighed two hundred 
 pounds, the train born up by six dukes ; his staff im- 
 perial was of a unicorn's horn three foot and a half 
 long, beset with rich stones; his globe and six crown 
 carried before him by princes of the blood ; his horse 
 at the church door stood ready with a covering of em- 
 broidered pearl, saddle and all suitable, to the value of 
 three hundred thousand marks. There was a kind of 
 bridge made three ways, one hundred and fifty fathom 
 long, three foot high, two fathom broad, whereon the 
 emperor with his train went from one church to another 
 above the infinite throng of people making loud accla- 
 mations: at the emperor's returning from those churches 
 they were spread underfoot with cloth of gold, the 
 porches with red velvet, the bridges with scarlet and 
 stammel cloth, all which, as the emperor passed by, 
 were cut and snatched by them that stood next; be- 
 sides new minted coins of gold and silver cast among 
 the people. The empress in her palace was placed be- 
 fore a great open window in rich and shining robes, 
 among her ladies. After this the emperor came into 
 parliament, where he had a banquet served by his no- 
 bles in princely order; two standing on either side his 
 chair with battleaxcs of gold ; three of the next rooms 
 great and large, being set round with plate of gold 
 and silver, from the ground up to the roof. This tri- 
 umph lasted a week, wherein many royal pastimes 
 were seen ; after which, election was made of the no- 
 bles to new offices and dignities. The conclusion (A' 
 all was a peal of one hundred and seventy brass ord- 
 nance two miles without the city, and twenty thou- 
 sand harquebuzes twice over; and so the emperor witli 
 at least fifty thousand horse returned through the city 
 to his palace, where all the nobility, officei-s, and mer- 
 chants brought him rich presents. Siiortly after tlii 
 emperor, by direction of Boris, conquered the lar<r 
 country of Siberia, and took prisoner the king thereol 
 he removed also corrupt officers and former taxes. I 
 sum, a great alteration in the government followed, yi 
 all quietly and without tumult. These things reported 
 abroad strook such awe into the neighbour kings, that 
 the Crim Tartar, with his wives also, and many nobles 
 valiant and personable men, came to visit the Russian 
 There came also twelve hundred Polish gentlcmrn 
 many Circassians, and people of other nations, to ofib 
 d Horsey. 
 
A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 575 
 
 I service; embassadors from tbe Turk, the Persian, Geor- 
 g-ian, and other Tartar princes ; from Almany, Poland, 
 Sweden, Denmark. But this glory lasted not long', 
 through the treachery of Boris, who procured the death 
 I first of Demetrius, then of the emperor himself, where- 
 !by the imperial race, after the succession of three hun 
 dred years, was quite extinguished. 
 
 Boris adopted, as before was said, third son to Juan 
 Vasiliwich, without impeachment now ascended the 
 throne ; but neither did he enjoy long what he had so 
 wickedly compassed, divine revenge rising up against 
 him a counterfeit of that Demetrius, whom he had 
 caused to be murdered at Ouglets.* This upstart, 
 strengthened with many Poles and Cossacks, appears 
 in arms to claim his right out of the hands of Boris, 
 who sent against him an army of two hundred thou- 
 sand men, many of whom revolted to this Demetrius : 
 Peter Basman, the general, returning to Mosco with 
 the empty triumph of a reported victory. But the 
 enemy still advancing, Boris one day, after a plentiful 
 meal, finding himself heavy and pained in the stomach, 
 laid him down on his bed ; but ere his doctors, who 
 made great haste, came to him, was found speechless, 
 and soon after died with grief, as is supposed, of his ill 
 success against Demetrius. Before his death, though 
 it were speedy, he would be shorn, and new christened. 
 He had but one son, whom he loved so fondly, as not 
 to suffer him out of sight; using to say he was lord 
 and father of his son, and yet his servant, jea his slave. 
 To gain the people's love, which he had lost by his ill 
 getting the empire, he used two policies ; first he caused 
 Mosco to be fired in four places, that in the quenching 
 thereof he might shew his great care and tenderness of 
 the people; among whom he likewise distributed so 
 much of his bounty, as both new built their houses, 
 and repaired their losses. At another time the people 
 murmuring, that the great pestilence, which had then 
 swept away a third part of the nation, was the punish- 
 ment of their electing him, a murderer, to reign over 
 them, he built galleries round about the utmost wall of 
 Mosco, and there appointed for one whole month twenty 
 thousand pound to be given to the poor, which well nigh 
 stopped their mouths. After the death of Boris, Peter 
 Basman, their only hope and refuge, though a young 
 man, was sent again to the wars, with him many Eng- 
 lish, Scots, French, and Dutch ; who all with the other 
 general Goleeche fell off to the new Demetrius, whose 
 messengers, coming now to the suburbs of Mosco, were 
 brought by the multitude to that spacious field before 
 the castle gate, within which the council were then sit- 
 ting, many of whom were by the people's threatening 
 called out, and constrained to hear the letters of Deme- 
 trius openly read : which, long ere the end, wrought so 
 with the multitude, that furiously they broke into the 
 castle, laying violence on all they met; when straight 
 appeared coming towards them two messengers of De- 
 metrius formerly sent, pitifully whipped and roasted, 
 which added to their rage. Then was the whole city in 
 an uproar, all the great counsellors' houses ransacked, 
 especially of the Godonovas, the kindred and family of 
 
 e Post Clirist. 1604. Purcli. part 3. p. 750. 
 
 Boris. Such of the nobles that were best beloved by en- 
 treaty prevailed at length to put an end to this tumult. 
 The empress, flying to a safer place, bad her collar of 
 pearl pulled from her neek ; and by the next message 
 command was given to secure her, with her son and 
 daughter. Whereupon Demetrius by general consent 
 was proclaimed emperor. The empress, now seeing 
 all lost, counselled the prince her son to follow his 
 father's example, who, it seems, had dispatched himself 
 by poison ; and with a desperate courage beginning 
 the deadly health, was pledged effectually by her son; 
 but the daughter, only sipping, escaped. Others as- 
 cribe this deed to the secret command of Demetrius, 
 and self-murder imputed to them, to avoid the envy of 
 such a command. 
 
 Demetrius Evanowicb, for so he called himself, who 
 succeeded, '^ was credibly reported the son of Gregory 
 Peupoloy a Russe gentleman, and in his younger years 
 to have been shorn a friar, but escaping from the mo- 
 nastery, to have travelled Germany and other coun- 
 tries, but chiefly Poland : where he attained to good 
 sufficiency in arms and other experience ; which raised 
 in him such high thoughts, as, grounding on a common 
 belief among the Russians that the young Demetrius 
 was not dead, but conveyed away, and their hatred 
 against Boris, on this foundation, with some other cir- 
 cumstances, to build his hopes no lower than an empire ; 
 which on his first discovery found acceptation so gene- 
 rally, as planted him at length on the royal seat : but 
 not so firmly as the fair beginning promised ; for in a 
 short while the Russians finding themselves abused 
 by an impostor, on the sixth day after his marriage, 
 observing when his guard of Poles were most secure, 
 rushing into the palace before break of day, dragged 
 him out of his bed, and when he had confessed the 
 fraud, pulled him to pieces ; with him Peter Basman 
 was also slain, and both their dead bodies laid open in 
 the market-place. He was of no presence, but other- 
 wise of a princely disposition ; too bountiful, which 
 occasioned some exactions; in other matters a great 
 lover of justice, not unworthy the empire which he had 
 gotten, and lost only through greatness of mind, neg- 
 lecting the conspiracy, which he knew the Russians 
 were plotting. Some say their hatred grew, for that 
 they saw him alienated from the Russian manners and 
 religion, having made Buchinskoy a learned protestant 
 his secretary. Some report from Gilbert's relation, ' 
 who was a Scot, a captain of his guard, that lying on 
 his bed awake, not long before the conspiracy, he saw 
 the appearance of an aged man coming toward him, at 
 which he rose, and called to them that watched ; but 
 they denied to have seen any such pass by them. He 
 returning to his bed, and within an hour after, troubled 
 again with the same apparition, sent for Buchinskoy, 
 telling him he had now twice the same night seen an 
 aged man, who at his second coming told him, that 
 though he were a good prince of himself, yet for the 
 injustice and ojipression of his inferiour ministers, his 
 empire should be taken from him. The secretary coun- 
 selled him to embrace true religion, affirming that for 
 
 f Purch. part 3. p.TM. 
 
676 
 
 A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 lack thereof his officei-s were so corrupt. The emperor 
 seemed to be much moved, and to intend what was 
 persuaded him. But a few days after, the other secre- 
 tary, a Russian, came to him with a drawn sword, of 
 which the emperor made slijjht at first ; but he after bold 
 words assaulted him, straight seconded by other con- 
 spirators, cryinjf liberty. Gilbert, with many of the guard 
 oversuddenly surprised, retreated to Coluga, a town 
 which they fortified ; most of the other strangers were 
 massacred, except the English, whose mediation saved 
 also Buchinskoy. Shusky, who succeeded him, reports in 
 a letter to King James otherwise of him ; that his right 
 name was Gryshca the son of Boughdan ; that to escape 
 punishment for villanies done, he tunied friar, and fell 
 at last to the black art ; and fearing that the metropo- 
 litan intended therefore to imprison him, fled into Let- 
 tow ; where by counsel of Sigismund the Poland king, 
 he began to call himself Demetry of Onglitts; and by 
 many libels and spies privily sent into Mosco, gave out 
 the same ; that many letters and messengers thereupon 
 were sent from Boris into Poland, and from the patri- 
 arch, to acquaint him who the runagate was: but the 
 Polauders giving them no credit, furnished him the 
 more with arms and money, notwithstanding the 
 league ; and sent the palatine Sandamersko and other 
 lords to accompany him into Russia, gaining also a 
 prince of the Crim Tartars to his aid ; that the army of 
 Boris, hearing of his sudden death, yielded to this 
 Gryshca, who, taking to wife the daughter of Sanda- 
 mersko, attempted to root out the Russian clergy, and 
 to bring in the Romish religion, for which purpose 
 many Jesuits came along with him. Whereupon 
 Shusky with the nobles and metropolitans, conspiring 
 against him, in half a year gathered all the forces of 
 Moscovia, and surprising him, found in writing under 
 his own hand all these his intentions ; letters also from 
 the pope and cardinals to the same effect, not only to 
 set up the religion of Rome, but to force it upon all, 
 with death to them that refused. 
 
 Vasily Evanowich Shusky,* after the slaughter of 
 Demetry or Gryshca, was elected emperor, having not 
 long before been at the block for reporting to have seen 
 the true Demetrius dead and buried ; but Gryshca not 
 only recalled him, but advanced him to be the instru- 
 ment of his own ruin. He was then about the age of 
 fifty; nobly descended, never married, of great wis- 
 dom reputed, a favourer of the English : for he saved 
 them from rifling in the former tumults. Some say *• 
 he modestly refused the crown, till by lot four times 
 together it fell to him ; yet after that, growing jealous 
 of his title, removed by poison and other means all the 
 nobles, that were like to stand his rivals ; and is said 
 to have consulted with witches of the Samoeds, Lap- 
 pians, and Tartarians, about the same fears ; and being 
 warned of one Michalowich to have put to death three 
 of that name, yet a fourth was reserved by fate to suc- 
 ceed him, being then a youth attendant in the court, 
 one of those that held the golden axes, and least sus- 
 pected. But before that time he also was supplanted 
 
 9 Post Christ. IfinC. 
 1 Post Christ. 1609. 
 
 b Parch. {Mrt 3. p. 709, ke. 
 
 by another reviving Demetrius brought iu by the 
 Poles ; whose counterfeited hand, and strange relating 
 of privatest circumstances, had almost deceived Gilbert 
 himself, had not their persons been utterly unlike; but 
 Gryshca's wife so far believed him for her husband, as 
 to receive him to her bed. Shusky, besieged in his 
 castle of Mosco, was adventurously supplied with some 
 powder and ammunition by the English; and with two 
 thousand French, English, and Scots, with other forces 
 from Charles king of Sweden. The' English, after 
 many miseries of cold and hunger, and assaults by the 
 way, deserted by the French, yielded most of them to 
 the Pole, near Smolensko, and served him against the 
 Russ. '' Meanwhile this second Demetrius, being now 
 rejected by the Poles, with those Russians that sided 
 with him laid siege to Mosco ; Zolkiewsky, for Sigis- 
 mund king of Poland, beleaguers on the other side with 
 forty thousand men ; whereof fifteen hundred English, 
 Scotch, and French. Shusky, despairing success, be- 
 takes him to a monastery ; but with the city is yielded 
 to the Pole; who turns now his force against the coun- 
 terfeit Demetrius ; he seeking to fly is by a Tartar 
 slain in his camp. Smolensko held out a siege of two 
 years, then surrendered. Shusky the emperor, cairied 
 away into Poland, there ended miserably in prison. 
 But before his departure out of Moscovy, the Polanders 
 in his name sending for the chief nobility, as to a last 
 farewel, cause them to be entertained in a secret place 
 and there dispatched : by this means the easier to sub- 
 due the people. Yet the Poles were starved at length 
 out of those places in Mosco, which they had fortified. 
 Wherein the Russians, who besieged them, found, as 
 is reported, sixty barrels of man's flesh powdered, be- 
 ing the bodies of such as died among them, or were 
 slain in figiit. 
 
 ' After which the empire of Russia broke to pieces, 
 the prey of such as could catch, every one naming him- 
 self, and striving to be accounted, that Demetrius of 
 Ouglitts. Some chose Uladislaus King Sigismund's 
 son, but he not accepting, they fell to a popular govern- 
 ment ; killing all the nobles under pretence of favour- 
 ing the Poles. Some overtures of receiving them were 
 made, as some say, to King James, and Sir John Meric 
 and Sir William Russell employed therein. Thus 
 Russia remaining in this confusion, it happened that a 
 mean man, a butcher, dwelling in the north about 
 Duina, inveighing against the baseness of their nobi- 
 lity,'" and the corruption of officers, uttered words, that 
 if they would but choose a faithful treasurer to pay well 
 the soldiers, and a good general, (naming one Pozarsky, 
 a poor gentleman, who after good service done, lived 
 not far oflT retired and neglected,) that then he doubt- 
 ed not to drive out the Poles. The people assent, and 
 choose that general ; the butcher they make their trea- 
 surer; who both so well discharged their places, that 
 with an army soon gathered they raise the siege of 
 Mosco, which the Polanders had renewed ; and with 
 Boris Licin, another great soldier of that country, fall 
 into consultation about the choice of an emperor, and 
 
 k Purch. 779. 
 
 Ill Purcb. part 3. 790. 
 
 1 PMt Christ. 16IS. 
 
A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 o77 
 
 choose at last Michalowich, or Michael Pheodorow ich, 
 the fatal youth, whose name Shusky so feared. 
 
 1 Michael Pheodorowich thus elected by the valour of 
 Pozarsky and Boris Licin, made them both generals of 
 bis forces, joining with them another great commander 
 of the Cossacks, whose aid had much befriended him; 
 the butcher also was made a counsellor of state. Fi- 
 nally, a peace was made up between the Russians and 
 the Poles ; and that partly by the mediation of King 
 James. 
 
 I 
 
 CHAR V. 
 
 The first discovery of Russia by the north-east, 1553, 
 with the English embassies, and entertainments at 
 that court, until the year 1604. 
 
 The discovery of Russia by the northern ocean," 
 made first, of any nation that we know, by English- 
 men, might have seemed an enterprise almost heroic; 
 if any higher end than tlie excessive love of gain and 
 traffic had animated the design. Nevertheless, that in 
 regard that many things not unprofitable to the know- 
 ledge of nature, and other observations, are hereby come 
 to light, as good events ofttimes arise from evil occa- 
 sions, it will not be the worst labour to relate briefly 
 the beginning and prosecution of this adventurous 
 voyage ; until it became at last a familiar passage. 
 
 When our merchants perceived the commodities of 
 England to be in small request abroad, and foreign 
 merchandise to grow higher in esteem and value than 
 before, they began to think with tliemselves, how this 
 might be remedied. And seeing how the Spaniards and 
 Portugals had increased their wealth by discovery of 
 new trades and countries, they resolved upon some new 
 and strange navigation. At the same time Sebastian 
 Chabota, a man for the knowledge of sea affairs much 
 renowned in those days, happened to be in London. 
 With him first they consult; and by his advice conclude 
 to furnish out three ships for the search and discovery 
 of the northern parts. And having heard that a cer- 
 tain worm is bred in that ocean, which many times 
 eatelh through the strongest oak, they contrive to cover 
 some part of the keel of those ships with thin sheets of 
 lead ; and victual them for eighteen months ; allowing 
 equally to their journey, their stay, and their return. 
 Arms also they provide, and store of munition, with 
 sufficient captains and governors for so great an enter- 
 prise. To which among many, and some void of ex- 
 perience, thatoffered themselves. Sir Hugh Willoughby, 
 a valiant gentleman, earnestly requested to have the 
 charge. Of whom before all others both for his goodly 
 personage, and singular skill in the services of war, 
 they made choice to be admiral ; and of Richard Chan- 
 celor, a man greatly esteemed for his skill, to be chief 
 pilot. This man was brought up by Mr. Henry Sid- 
 ney, afterwards deputy of Ireland, who coming where 
 the adventurers were gathered together, though then a 
 
 n Post Christ. 1613. a Ilac. vol. i. 243, 234. 
 
 young man, with a grave and elegant speech com- 
 mended Chancelor unto them. 
 
 After this, they omitted no inquiry after any person, 
 that might inform them concerning those north-easterly 
 parts, to which the voyage tended ; and two Tartariana 
 then of the king's stable were sent for ; but they were 
 able to answer nothing to purpose. So after much de- 
 bate it was concluded, that by the twentieth of May 
 the ships should depart. Being come near Greenwich, 
 where the court then lay, presently the courtiers came 
 running out, the privy council at the windows, the rest 
 on the towers and battlements. The mariners all ap- 
 parelled in watchet, or skycoloured cloth, discharge 
 their ordnance ; the noise whereof, and of the people 
 shouting, is answered from the hills and waters with 
 as loud an echo. Only the good King Edward then 
 sick beheld not this sight, but died soon after. From 
 hence putting into Harwich, they staid long and lost 
 much time. At length passing by Shetland, they 
 kenned a far oflr.S)gelands, being an innumerable sort 
 of islands called Rost Islands in sixty -six degrees. 
 Thence to Lofoot in sixty-eight, to Seinam in seventy 
 degrees ; these islands belong all to the crown of Den- 
 mark. Whence departing Sir Hugh Willoughby set 
 out his flag, by which he called together the chief men 
 of his other ships to counsel ; where they conclude, in 
 case they happened to be scattered by tempest, that 
 Wardhouse, a noted haven in Finmark, be the appoint- 
 ed place of their meeting. The very same day after- 
 noon so great a tempest arose, that the ships were some 
 driven one way, some another, in great peril. The 
 general with his loudest voice called to Chancelor not 
 to be far from him ; but in vain, for the admiral sailing 
 much better than his ship, and bearing all her sails, 
 was carried with great swiftness soon out of sight; but 
 before that, the ship-boat, striking against her ship, 
 was overwhelmed in view of the Bonaventure, whereof 
 Chancelor was captain. ''The third ship also in the 
 same storm was lost. But Sir Hugh Willoughby 
 escaping that storm, and wandering on those desolate 
 seas till the eighteenth of September, put into a haven 
 where they had weather as in the depth of winter; and 
 there determining to abide till spring, sent out three 
 men south-west to find inhabitants; who journied three 
 days, but found none; then other three went westward 
 four days journey, and lastly three south-east three 
 days; but they all returning without news of people, 
 or any sign of habitation. Sir Hugh with the company 
 of his two ships abode there till January, as appears 
 by a will since found in one of the ships ; but then 
 perished all with cold. This river or haven was Arzina 
 in Lapland, near to Kegor,<= where they were found dead 
 the year after by certain Russian fishermen. Whereof 
 the English agent at Mosco having notice, sent and 
 recovered the ships with the dead bodies and most of 
 the goods, and sent them for England ; but the ships 
 being unstaunch, as is supposed, by their two years 
 wintering in Lapland, sunk by the way with their 
 dead, and them also that brought them. But now 
 Chancelor, with his ship and company thus left, shaped 
 
 b Ilac. 235. c Ibid. 461. 
 
678 
 
 A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 his course to Wardhouse, the place agjeed on to ex- 
 pect the rest ; where having^ staid seven days without 
 tidings of them, he resolves at lenjjth to hold on his 
 Tojag'e ; and sailed so far till he found no ni<rht, but 
 continual day and sun clearly shining' on that huge 
 and vast sea for certain days. At length they enter 
 into a great bay, named, as they knew after, from St. 
 Nicholas ; and spying a fisherboat, made after him to 
 know what people they were. The fishermen amazed 
 with the greatness of his ship, to them a strange and 
 new sight, sought to fly ; but overtaken, in great fear 
 they prostrate themselves, and offer to kiss his feet ; 
 but he raising them up with all signs and gestures of 
 courtesy, sought to win their friendship. They no 
 sooner dismissed, but spread abroad the arrival of a 
 strange nation, whose humanity they spake of with 
 great affection ; whereupon the people running toge- 
 ther, with like return of all courteous usage receive 
 them ; offering them victuals freely, nor refusing to 
 traffic, but for a loyal custom which bound them from 
 that, without first the consent had of their king. After 
 mutual demands of each other's nation, they found 
 themselves to be in Russia, where Juan Vasiliwich at 
 that time reigned emperor. To whom privily the go- 
 vernor of that place sending notice of the strange 
 guests that were arrived, held in the mean while our 
 men in what suspense he could. The emperor well 
 pleased with so unexpected a message, invites them to 
 his court, offering them post horses at his own charge, 
 or if the journey seemed over long, that they might 
 freely traffic where they were. But ere this messenger 
 could return, having lost his way, the Muscovites 
 themselves loath that our men should depart, which 
 they made shew to do, furnished them with guides and 
 other conveniences, to bring them to their king's pre- 
 sence. Chanc-elor had now gone more than half his 
 journey, when the sledman sent to court meets him on 
 the way; delivers him the emperor's letters; which 
 when the Russes understood, so willing they were to 
 obey the contents thereof, that they quarrelled and 
 strove who should have the preferment to put his horses 
 to the sled. So after a long and troublesome journey 
 of fifteen hundred miles he arrived at Mosco. After 
 be had remained in the city about twelve days, a mes- 
 senger was sent to bring them to the king's house. 
 Being entered within the court gates, and brought into 
 an outward chamber, they beheld there a very honour- 
 able company to the number of a hundred, sitting all 
 apparelled in cloth of gold down to their ancles : next 
 conducted to the chamber of presence, there sat the em- 
 peror on a lofty and very royal throne ; on his head a 
 diadem of gold, bis robe all of goldsmitli's work, in his 
 hand a chrystal sceptre garnished and beset with pre- 
 cious stones ; no less was his countenance full of ma- 
 jesty. Beside him stood his chief secretary ; on his 
 other side the great commander of silence, both in cloth 
 of gold; then sat his council of a hundred and fifty 
 round about on high seats, clad all as richly. Chan- 
 cclor, nothing abashed, made his obeisance to the em- 
 peror after the English manner. The emperor having 
 
 d tiac. iX, CC3, 46S. 
 
 taken and read his letters, after some inquiry of King 
 Edward's health, invited them to dinner, and till ihcii 
 dismissed them. But before dismission the secretary 
 presented their present bareheaded ; till which time 
 they were all covered ; and before admittance our men 
 had charge not to speak, but when the emperor de- 
 manded aught. Having sat two hours in the secretary's 
 chamber, they were at length called in to dinner ; whcro 
 the emperor was set at table, now in a robe of silver, 
 and another crown on his head. This place was called 
 the golden palace, but without cause, for the English- 
 men had seen many fairer; round about the room, but 
 at distance, were other long tables ; in the midst a cup- 
 board of huge and massy goblets, and other vessels of 
 gold and silver; among the rest four great flaggons 
 nigh two yards high, wrought in the top with devices 
 of towers and dragons' heads. The guests ascended to 
 their tables by three steps; all apparelled in linen, and 
 tiiat lined with rich furs. The messes came in without 
 order, but all in chargers of gold, both to the emperor, 
 and to the rest that dined there, which were two hun- 
 dred persons ; on every board also were set cups of 
 gold without number. The servitors, one hundred 
 and forty, were likewise arrayed in gold, and waited 
 with caps on their heads. They that are in high favour 
 sit on the same bench with the emperor, but far off. 
 Before meat came in, according to the custom of their 
 kings, he sent to every guest a slice of bread ; whom 
 the officer naming, saith thus, John Basiliwich, em- 
 peror of Russ, &c., doth reward thee with bread, at 
 which words all men stand up. Then were swans in 
 several pieces served in, each piece in a several dish, 
 which the gi*eat duke sends about as the bread, and so 
 likewise the drink. In dinner-time he twice changed 
 his crown, his waiters thrice their apparel ; to whom 
 the emperor in like manner gives both bread and drink 
 with his own bands ; which they say is done to the 
 intent that he may perfectly know his own household ; 
 and indeed when dinner was done, he called his nobles 
 every one before him by name ; and by this time can- 
 dles were brought in, for it grew dark ; and the Eng- 
 lish departed to their lodgings from dinner, an hour 
 within night. 
 
 In the year fifteen hundred and fifty-five,'* Chancelor 
 made another voj'age to this place with letters from 
 Queen Mary ; had a house in Mosco, and diet ap- 
 pointed him ; and was soon admitted to the emperor's 
 presence in a large room spread with carpets; at his 
 entering and salutation all stood up, the emperor onh 
 sitting, except when the queen's name was read, or 
 spoken; for then he himself would rise: at dinner Ik 
 sat bareheaded ; his crown and rich cap standing on a 
 pinnacle by. * Chancelor returning for England, Osep 
 Napea, governor of Wologda, came in his ship embas- 
 sador from the Russe; but suffering shipwreck in Pet- 
 tislego, a bay in Scotland, Chancelor, who took more 
 care to save the embassador than himself, was drowned, 
 the ship rifled, and most of her lading made booty by 
 the people thereabout. i 
 
 In the year fifteen hundred ai"' fifty-seven/ Osep ' 
 
 e lt)i<l. 356. f Ibi'l. 310, &c. 
 
A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 579 
 
 Napea returned into his country with Anthony Jen- 
 kinson, who had the command of four tall ships. He 
 reports of a whirlpool between the Rost Islands and 
 Lofoot called Malestrand; which from half ebb to half 
 flood is heard to make so terrible a noise, as shakes the 
 door-ring's of houses in those islands ten miles off; 
 ■whales that come within the current thereof make a 
 pitiful cry ; trees carried in and cast out again have 
 the ends and boug'hs of them so beaten, as they seem 
 like the stalks of bruised hemp. About Zeiuam they 
 saw many whales very monstrous, hard by their ships ; 
 whereof some by estimation sixty foot long' ; they 
 roared hideously, it being then the time of their en- 
 gendering. At Wardhouse, he saith, the cattle are fed 
 with fish. Coming to Mosco, he found the emperor 
 sitting aloft in a chair of state, richly crowned, a staff 
 of gold in his hand wrought with costly stone. Dis- 
 tant from him sat his brother, and a youth the empe- 
 ror's son of Casan, whom the Russe bad conquered ; 
 there dined with him diverse embassadors, christian 
 and heathen, diversely apparelled : his brother with 
 some of the chief nobles sat with him at table : the 
 guests were in all six hundred. In dinner-time came 
 in six musicians ; and standing in the midst, sung 
 three several times, but with little or no delight to our 
 men ; there dined at the same time in other halls two 
 thousand Tartars, who came to serve the duke in his 
 wars. The English were set at a small table by them- 
 selves, direct before the emperor ; who sent them diverse 
 bowls of wine and meath, and many dishes from bis 
 own hand : the messes were but mean, but the change 
 of wines and several meaths were wonderful. As oft 
 as they dined with the emperor, he sent for them in 
 the morning, and invited them with his own mouth. 
 8 On Christmas day being invited, they had for other 
 provision as before, but for store of gold and silver 
 plate excessive ; among which were twelve barrels of 
 silver, hooped with fine gold, containing twelve gal- 
 lons apiece. 
 
 In the year fifteen hundred and sixty was the first 
 English traffic to the Narve in Livonia, till then con- 
 cealed by Danskers and Lubeckers. 
 
 Fifteen hundred and sixty-one. The same Anthony 
 Jenkinson made another voyage to Mosco ; and arrived 
 while tlie emperor was celebrating his marriage with 
 a Circassian lady ; during which time the city gates 
 for three days were kept shut; and all men what- 
 soever straitly commanded to keep within their houses ; 
 except some of his household ; the cause whereof is not 
 known. 
 
 Fifteen hundred and sixty-six. He made again the 
 same voyage ;'' which now men usually made in a 
 month from London to St. Nicholas with good winds, 
 being seven hundred and fifty leagues. 
 
 Fifteen hundred and sixty-eight. Thomas Randolf, 
 Esq. went embassador to Muscovy,' from Queen Eliza- 
 beth ; and in his passage by sea met nothing remark- 
 able save great jJore of whales, whom they might see 
 engendering together, and the spermaceti swimming 
 on the water. At Colmogro he was met by a gentle- 
 
 g HiiC. 317. b Ibid. 311. 
 
 2p 
 
 man from the emperor, at whose charge he was con- 
 ducted to Mosco : but met there by no man ; not so 
 much as the English ; lodged in a fair house built for 
 embassadors; but there confined upon some suspicion 
 which the emperor had conceived ; sent for at length 
 after seventeen weeks' delay, was fain to ride thither 
 on a borrowed horse, his men on foot. In a chamber 
 before the presence were sitting about three hundred 
 persons, all in rich robes taken out of the emperor's 
 wardrobe for that day ; they sat on three ranks of 
 benches, rather for shew than that the persons were of 
 honour; being merchants, and other mean inhabitants. 
 The embassador saluted them, but by them unsaluted 
 passed on with his head covered. At the presence door 
 being received by two which had been his guardians, 
 and brought into the midst, he was there willed to 
 stand still, and speak his message from the queen ; at 
 whose name the emperor stood up, and demanded her 
 health : then giving the embassador his hand to kiss, 
 fell to many questions. The present being delivered, 
 which was a great silver bowl curiously graven, the 
 emperor told him, he dined not that day openly because 
 of great affairs; but, saith he, I will send thee my 
 dinner, and augment thy allowance. And so dismiss- 
 ing him, sent a duke richly apparelled soon after to his 
 lodging, with fifty persons, each of them carrying meat 
 in silver dishes covered ; which himself delivered into 
 the embassador's own hands, tasting first of every dish, 
 and every sort of drink ; that done set him down with 
 his company, took part,and went not thence unrewarded. 
 The emperor sent back with this embassador another of 
 his own called Andrew Savin. 
 
 Fifteen hundred and seventy-one. Jenkinson made 
 a third voyage; but was staid long at Colmogro by 
 reason of the plague in those parts ; at length had 
 audience where the court then was, near to Pereslave ; 
 to which place the emperor was returned from his 
 Swedish war with ill success: and Mosco the same 
 year had been wholly burnt by the Crim: in it the 
 English house, and diverse English were smothered in 
 the cellars, multitudes of people in the city perished, 
 all that were young led captive with exceeding spoil. 
 
 Fifteen hundred and eighty -three. ''Juan Basiliwich 
 having the year before sent his ambassador Pheodor 
 Andrewich about matters of commerce, the queen made 
 choice of Sir Jerom Bowes, one of her household, to go 
 into Russia ; who being attended with more than forty 
 persons, and accompanied with the Russe returning 
 home, an-ived at St. Nicholas. The Dutch by this 
 time had intruded into the Muscovy trade, which by 
 privilege long before had been granted solely to the 
 English ; and had corrupted to their side Shalkan the 
 chancellor, with others of the great ones ; who so 
 wrought, that a creature of their own was sent to meet 
 Sir Jerom at Colmogro, and to offer him occasions of 
 dislike : until at Vologda he was received by another 
 from the emperor ; and at Heraslave by a duke well 
 accompanied, who presented him with a coach and ten 
 geldings. Two miles from Mosco met him four gen- 
 tlemen with two hundred horse, who, after short salut- 
 i Ibid. 373. k Ibid. vol. i. 45B. 
 
580 
 
 A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 ation, told Iiim what they liail to say from the emperor, 
 willing' hiin to alig'ht, which the embassador soon re- 
 fused, unless they also lighted; whereon they stood 
 long debating; at length agreed, great dispute fol- 
 lowed, whose foot should first touch the ground. Their 
 message delivered, and then embracing, they conducted 
 the embassador to a house at Mosco, built for him pur- 
 posely. At his going to court, he and his followers 
 honourably mounted and apparelled, the emperor's 
 guard were set on either side all the way about six 
 Uiousand shot. At the court gate met him four noble- 
 men in cloth of gold, and rich fur caps, embroidered 
 with pearl and stone ; then four others of greater de- 
 gree, in which passage there stood along the walls, 
 and sat on benches, seven or eight hundred men in 
 coloured satins and gold. At tije presence door met 
 him the chief herald, and with him all the great officers 
 of court, who brought him where the emperor sat : there 
 were set by him three crowns of Muscovy, Cazan, and 
 Astracan; on each side stood two young noblemen, 
 costly apparelled in white, each of them had a broad 
 axe on his shoulder; on the benches round sat above 
 an hundred noblemen. Having given the embassador 
 his hand to kiss, and inquired of the queen's health, he 
 willed him to go sit in the place provided for him, nigh 
 ten paces distant ; from thence to send him the queen's 
 letters and present. Which the embassador thinking 
 not reasonal)le stepped forward ; but the chancellor 
 meeting him, would have taken his letters ; to whom 
 the embassador said, that the queen had directed no 
 letters to him ; and so went on and delivered them to 
 the emperor's own hands ; and after a short withdraw- 
 ing into the council-chamber, where he had conference 
 with some of the council, he was called in to dinner : 
 about the midst whereof, the emperor standing up, drank 
 a deep carouse to the queen's health, and sent to the 
 embassador a g^eat bowl of Rhenish wine to pledge 
 him. But at several times being called for to treat 
 about affairs, and not yielding aught beyond his com- 
 mission, the emperor not wont to be gainsaid, one day 
 especially broke into passion, and with a stern counte- 
 nance told him, be did not reckon the queen to be his 
 fellow ; for there are, quoth he, her betters. The em- 
 bassador not holding it his part, whatever danger 
 might ensue, to hear any derogate from the majesty of 
 his prince, with like courage and countenance told him 
 that the queen was equal to any in Christendom, who 
 thought himself greatest; and wanted not means to 
 offend her enemies whomsoever. Yea, quoth he, what 
 sayest thou of the French and Spanish kings ? I hold 
 her, quoth the embassador, equal to either. Then what 
 to the German emperor ? Her father, quoth he, had the 
 emperor in his pay. This answer misliked the duke 
 80 far, as that he told him, were he not an embassador, 
 he would throw him out of doors. You may, said the 
 embassador, do your will, for I am now fast in your 
 country ; but the queen, I doubt not, will know how 
 to be revenged of any injury offered to her embassador. 
 Whereat the emperor in great sudden bid him get 
 home ; and he with no more reverence than such usage 
 required, saluted the emperor, and went his way. 
 
 Notwithstanding this, the Muscovite, soon as his mood 
 left him, spake to them that stood by many praises of 
 the embassador, wishing he had such a servant, and 
 presently after sent his chief secretary to tell liini,that 
 whatever had passed in words, yet for his great respect 
 to the queen, he would shortly after dispatch him with 
 honour and full contentment, and in the mean while he 
 much enlarged his entertainment. He also desired, 
 that the points of our religion might be set down, and 
 caused them to be read to his nobility with much ap- 
 probation. And as the year before he had sought in 
 marriage the lady Mary Hastings, which took not effect, 
 the lady and her friends excusing it, he now again re- 
 newed the motion to take to wife some one of the queen's 
 kinswomen, either by sending an embassage, or going 
 himself with his treasure into England. Now happy 
 was that nobleman, whom Sir Jerom Bowes in public 
 favoured ; unhappy they who had opposed him : for 
 the emperor had beaten Shalkan the chancellor very 
 grievously for that cause, and threatened not to leave 
 one of his race alive. But the emperor dying soon 
 after of a surfeit, Shalkan, to whom then almost the 
 whole government was committed, caused the embas- 
 sador to remain close prisoner in his house nine weeks. 
 Being sent for at length to have his dispatch, and 
 slightly enough conducted to the council-chamber, he 
 was told by Shalkan, that this emperor would conde- 
 scend to no other agreements than were between his 
 father and the queen before his coming : and so dis- 
 arming both him and his company, brought them to 
 the emperor with many affronts in their passage, for 
 which there was no help but patience. The emperor, 
 saying but over what the chancellor had said before, 
 offered him a letter for the queen : which the embassa- 
 dor, knowing it contained nothing to the purpose of 
 his embassy, refused, till he saw his danger grow too 
 great ; nor was he suffered to reply, or have his inter- 
 preter. Shalkan sent him word, that now the English 
 emperor was dead ; and hastened his departure, but 
 with so many disgraces put upon him, as made him 
 fear some mischief in his journey to the sea : having 
 only one mean gentleman sent with him to be his con- 
 voy ; he commanded the English merchants in the 
 queen's name to accompany him, but such was his 
 danger, that they durst not. So arming himself and 
 his followers in the best wise he could, against any 
 outrage, he at length recovered the shore of St. Nicho- 
 las. Where he now resolved to send them back by his 
 conduct some of the affronts which he had received. 
 Ready tlierefore to take ship, lie causes three or four 
 of his valiantest and discreetest men to take the empe- 
 ror's letter, and disgraceful present, and to deliver it, 
 or leave it at the lodging of his convoy, which they 
 safely did ; though followed with a great tumult of 
 such as would have forced them to take it back. 
 
 Fifteen hundred and eighty-four. At the coronation 
 of Pheodor the emperor, Jerom Horsey being then 
 agent in Russia, and called for to court with one John 
 deWale, a merchant of the Netherlands and a subject 
 of Spain, some of the nobles would have preferred the 
 Fleming before the English. ButtothatouragentwouUI 
 
A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 581 
 
 in no case agree, saying he would rather have his legs 
 cut off by the knees, than bring his present in course 
 after a subject of Spain. The emperor and prince Boris 
 perceiving the controversy, gave order to admit Horsey 
 first : who was dismissed with large promises, and 
 seventy messes with three carts of several meath sent 
 after him. 
 
 Fifteen hundred and eighty-eight. Dr. Giles 
 Fletcher went embassador from the queen to Pbeodor 
 then emperor; whose relations being judicious and 
 exact are best read entirely by themselves. ^ This em- 
 peror, upon report of the great learning of John Dee 
 the mathematician, invited him to Mosco, with offer of 
 two thousand pounds a year, and from prince Boris one 
 thousand marks; to have his provision from the emperor's 
 table, to be honourably received, and accounted as one 
 of the chief men in the land. All which Dee accepted 
 not. 
 
 One thousand six hundred and four. Sir Thomas 
 Smith was sent embassador from King James to Boris 
 then emperor; and staid some days at a place five miles 
 from Mosco, till he was honourably received into the 
 city; met on horseback by many thousands of gentle- 
 men and nobles on both sides the way ; where the em- 
 bassador alighting from his coach, and mounted on 
 his horse, rode with his trumpets sounding before him; 
 till a gentleman of the emperor's stable brought him a 
 gennet gorgeously trapped with gold, pearl, and stone, 
 especially with a great chain of plated gold about his 
 neck, and horses richly adorned for his followers. Then 
 came three great noblemen with an interpreter offering 
 a speech ; but the embassador deeming it to be cere- 
 mony, with a brief compliment found means to put it 
 by. Thus alighting all, they saluted, and gave hands 
 mutually. Those three, after a tedious preamble of the 
 emperor's title thrice repeated, brought a several com- 
 pliment of three words a piece, as namely, the first. To 
 know how the king did ; the next, How the embassa- 
 dor; tlie third. That there was a fair house provided 
 him. Then on they went on either hand of the embas- 
 sador, and about six thousand gallants behind them ; 
 still met within the city by more of greater quality to 
 the very gate of his lodging: where fifty gunners were 
 his daily guard both at home and abroad. The pres- 
 taves, or gentlemen assigned to have the care of his 
 entertainment, were earnest to have had the embassa- 
 dor's speech and message given them in writing, that 
 the interpreter, as they pretended, might the better 
 translate it; but he admonished them of their foolish 
 demand. On the day of his audience, other gennets 
 were sent him and his attendants to ride on, and two 
 white palfreys to draw a rich chariot, which was par- 
 cel of the present ; the rest whereof was carried by his 
 followers through a lane of the emperor's guard ; many 
 messengers posting up and down the while, till they 
 came through the great castle, to the uttermost court 
 gate. There met by a great duke, they were brought 
 up stairs through a stone gallery, where stood on each 
 hand many in fair coats of Persian stuff, velvet, and da- 
 
 1 Ilack. 508. 
 
 mask. The embassador by two other counsellors being 
 led into the presence, after his obeisance done, was to 
 stay and hear again the long title repeated ; then the 
 particular presents ; and so delivered as much of his 
 embassage as was then requisite. After which the em- 
 peror, arising from his throne, demanded of the king's 
 health; so did the young prince. The embassador then 
 delivered his letters into the emperor's own hand, 
 though the chancellor offered to have taken them. He 
 bore the majesty of a mighty emperor; his crown and 
 sceptre of pure gold, a collar of pearls about his neck, 
 his garment of crimson velvet embroidered with pre- 
 cious stone and gold. On his right side stood a fair 
 globe of beaten gold on a pyramis with a cross upon 
 it ; to which, before he spake, turning a little he cross- 
 ed himself. Not much less in splendour on another 
 throne sate the prince. By the emperor stood two no- 
 blemen in cloth of silver, high caps of black fur, and 
 chains of gold hanging to their feet; on their shoul- 
 ders two poleaxes of gold ; and two of silver by the 
 prince ; the ground was all covered with arras or tapes- 
 try. Dismissed, and brought in again to dinner, they 
 saw the emperor and his son seated in state, ready to 
 dine ; each with a skull of pearl on their bare heads, 
 their vestments changed. In the midst of this hall 
 seemed to stand a pillar heaped round to a great height 
 with massy plate curiously wrought with beasts, fishes, 
 and fowl. The emperor's table was served with two 
 hundred noblemen in coats of gold ; the prince's table 
 with young dukes of Casan, Astracan, Siberia, Tarta- 
 ria, and Circassia. The emperor sent from bis table to 
 the embassador thirty dishes of meat, to each a loaf of 
 extraordinary fine bread. Then followed a number 
 more of strange and rare dishes piled up by half do- 
 zens, with boiled, roast, and baked, most part of them 
 besauced with garlic and onions. In midst of dinner 
 calling the embassador up to him he drank the king's 
 health, who receiving it from his hand, returned to his 
 place, and in the same cup, being of fair chrystal, 
 pledged it with all his company. After dinner they 
 were called up to drink of excellent and strong meath 
 from the emperor's hand; of which when many did but 
 sip, he urged it not ; saying be was best pleased with 
 what was most for their health. Yet after that, the 
 same day he sent a great and glorious duke, one of 
 them that held the golden poleaxe, with his retinue, 
 and sundry sorts of meath, to drink merrily with the 
 embassador, which some of the English did, until the 
 duke and his followers, lightheaded, but well rewarded 
 with thirty yards of cloth of gold, and two standing 
 cups, departed. At second audience the embassador 
 had like reception as before : and being dismissed, had 
 dinner sent after him with three hundred several dishes 
 offish, it being Lent, of such strangeness, greatness, 
 and goodness, as scarce would be credible to report. 
 The embassador departing was brought a raUe out of 
 the city with like honour as he was first met ; where 
 lighting from the emperor's sled, he took him to his 
 coach, made fast upon a sled ; the rest to their sleds, 
 an easy and pleasant passage. 
 
583 
 
 A BRIEF HISTORY OF MOSCOVIA. 
 
 Names of the Authors from whence these Relations 
 have been taken ; being all either Eyewitnesses, or 
 immediate Kelaters from such as were. 
 
 The journal of Sir Hugh Willoughby. 
 
 Discourse of Richard Chancelor. 
 
 Another of Clement Adams, taken from the mouth of 
 
 Chancelor. 
 Notes of Richard Johnson, servant to Chancelor. 
 The Protonotaries Register. 
 Two Letters of Mr. Hen. Lane. 
 Several voyages of Jenkinson. 
 
 Southam and Sparks. 
 
 The journal of Randolf the embassador. 
 
 Another of Sir Jerom Bowes. 
 
 The coronation of Pheodor, written by Jerom Horsey. 
 
 Gourdon of Hull's voyage to Pechora. 
 
 The voyage of William Pursglove to Pechora. 
 
 Of Josias Logan. 
 
 Hessel Gerardus, out of Purchas, part 3. 1. 3. 
 
 Russian relations in Purch. 797. ibid. 806. ibid. 
 
 The embassage of Sir Thomas Smith. 
 
 Papers of Mr. Hackluit. 
 
 Jansouius. 
 
 I 
 
A DECLARATION 
 
 OK 
 
 LETTERS PATENTS, 
 FOR THE ELECTION OF THIS PRESENT KING OF POLAND, 
 
 JOHN THE THIRD, 
 
 ELECTED ON THE 22nd OF MAY LAST PAST, A. D. 1674 
 
 CONTAINING THB RBA80N8 OF THIS ELECTION, THE GREAT VIRTUES AND MERITS OP THE RAID SERENE ELECT, HIS EMINENT SER- 
 VICES IN WAR, ESPECIALLY IN HIS LAST GREAT VICTORY AGAINST TUB TURKS AND TARTARS, WHEREOF MANY PARTICCLARS 
 ARE HERB RELATED, NOT PUBLISHED BEFORE. 
 
 NOW FAITHFXJLLY TRANSLATED FROM THE LATIN COPY, 
 
 I \ the name of the most Holy and Individual Trinity, 
 the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. 
 
 We Andrew Trezebicki, bishop of Cracovia, duke of 
 Severia, Jolm Gembicki of Uladislau and Pomerania, 
 &c. ; bishops to the number of ten. 
 
 Stanislaus Warszycki, Castellan of Cracovia ; Alex- 
 ander Michael Lubomirski of Cracovia, &c. ; palatines 
 to the number of twenty-three. 
 
 Christopherus Grzymaltouski of Posnania, Alex- 
 ander Gratus de Tamow of Sandimer ; castellans to the 
 number of twenty-four. 
 
 Hiraleus Polubinski, high marshal of the great 
 dukedom of Lithuania, Christopherus Pac, high chan- 
 cellor of the great dukedom of Lithuania, senators and 
 great officers, to the number of seventy -five. 
 
 WE declare by these our present letters unto all and 
 single persons whom it may concern : our common- 
 wealth, being again left widowed by the unseasonable 
 death of that famous Michael late king of Poland, who, 
 having scarce reigned full five years, on the tenth day 
 of November, of the year last past, at Leopolis, chang- 
 ed his fading crown for one immortal ; in the sense of 
 so mournful a funeral and fresh calamity, yet with un- 
 daunted courage, mindful of herself in the midst of 
 dangers, forebore not to seek remedies, that the world 
 may understand she grows in the midst of her losses ; 
 it pleased her to begin her counsels of preserving her 
 Country, and delivering it from the utmost chances of 
 an interreign, from the divine Deity, (as it were by the 
 only motion of whose finger, it is easy that kingdoms 
 be transferred from nation to nation, and kings from 
 
 the lowest states to thrones ;) and therefore the business 
 was begun according to our country laws, and ances- 
 tors' institutions. After the convocation of all the states 
 of the kingdom ended, in the month of February, at 
 Warsaw, by the common consent of all those states, on 
 the day decreed for the election the twentieth of April: 
 at the report of this famous act, as though a trumpet 
 had been sounded, and a trophy of virtue erected, the 
 wishes and desires of foreign princes came forth of their 
 own accord into the field of the Polonian liberty, in a 
 famous strife of merits and goodwill towards the com- 
 monwealth, every one bringing their ornaments, ad- 
 vantages, and gifts to the commonwealth : but the com- 
 monwealth becoming more diligent by the prodigal 
 ambition used in the last interreign, and factions, and 
 disagreeings of minds, nor careless of the future, con- 
 sidered with herself whether firm or doubtful things 
 were promised, and whether she should seem from the 
 present state to transfer both the old and new honours 
 of Poland into the possession of strangers, or the mili- 
 tary glory, and their late unheard of victory over the 
 Turks, and blood spilt in the war, upon the purple of 
 some unwarlike prince ; as if any one could so soon 
 put on the love of the country, and that Poland was 
 not so much an enemy to her own nation and fame, as 
 to favour strangers more than her own; and valour 
 being found in her, should suffer a guest of new power 
 to wax proud in her : therefore she thenceforth turned 
 her thoughts upon some one in her own nation, and at 
 length abolished (as she began in the former election) 
 that reproach cast upon her, under pretence of a secret 
 maxim, " That none can be elected king of Poland^ 
 
584 
 
 DECLARATION FOR THE ELECTION 
 
 but such as arc born out of Poland ;" neither did she 
 seek long' among' her citizens whom she should pre- 
 fer above the rest; (for this was no uncertain or sus- 
 pended election, there was no place for delay ;) for al- 
 though in the equality of our nobles many might be 
 elected, 3'et the virtue of a hero appeared above his 
 equals : therefore the eyes and minds of all men were 
 willingly, and by a certain divine instinct, turned upon 
 the high marshal of the kingdom, captain of the army, 
 John Sobietski. The admirable virtue of the man, the 
 high power of marshal in the court, with his supreme 
 command in arms, senatorial honour, with his civil mo- 
 desty, the extraordinary splendour of his birth and for- 
 tune, with open courtesy, piety towards God, love to 
 his fellow-citizens in words and deeds ; constancy, 
 faithfulness, and clemency towards his very enemies, 
 and what noble things soever can be said of a hero, 
 did lay such golden chains on the minds and tongues 
 of all, that tlie senate and people of Poland and of the 
 great dukedom of Lithuania, with suffrages and agree- 
 ing voices named and chose him their king ; not with 
 bis seeking or precipitate counsel, but with mature de- 
 liberations continued and extended till the third day. 
 
 Certainly it conduced much for the honour of the 
 most serene elect, the confirmation of a free election, 
 and the eternal praise of the people electing, that the 
 great business of an age was not transacted in one day, 
 or in the shadow of the night, or by one casual heat : 
 for it was not right that a hero of the age should in a 
 moment of time (and as it were by the cast of a die) 
 be made a king, whenas antiquity by an ancient pro- 
 verb has delivered, " that Hercules was not begot in 
 one night;" and it hath taught, that election should 
 shine openly under a clear sky, in the open light. 
 
 The most serene elect took it modestly, that his 
 nomination should be deferred till the third day, plainly 
 shewing to endeavour, lest his sudden facility of assent 
 being suspected, might detract from their judgment, 
 and the world might be enforced to believe by a more 
 certain argument, that he that was so chosen was 
 elected without his own ambition, or the envy of cor- 
 rupted liberty ; or was it by the appointed counsel of 
 God, that this debate continued three whole days, from 
 Saturday till Monday, as if the Cotimian victory (be- 
 gun on the Saturday, and at length on the third day 
 after accomplished, after the taking of the Cotimian 
 castle) had been a lucky presage of his royal reward ; 
 or, as if with an auspicious omen, the third day of 
 election had alluded to the regal name of JOHN the 
 Third. 
 
 The famous glory of war paved his way to the crown, 
 and confirmed the favour of suffrages to his most 
 serene elect. He the first of all the Polonians shewed 
 that the Scythian swiftness (troublesome heretofore to 
 all the monarchies in the world) might be repressed by 
 a standing fight, and the terrible main battalion of the 
 Turk might be broken and routed at one stroke. That 
 we may pass by in silence the ancient rudiments of 
 warfare, which he stoutly and gloriously managed 
 under the conduct and authority of another, against 
 the Swedes, Moscovites, Borussians, Transylvanians, 
 
 and Cossacks: though about sixty cities taken by him 
 from the Cossacks be less noised in the mouth of fame ; 
 yet these often and prosperous battles were a prelude 
 to greatest victories in the memory of man. Myriads 
 of Tartars had overrun within this six years with their 
 plundering troops the coast of Podolia, when a small 
 force and some shattered' legions were not sufficient 
 against the hostile assault, yet our general knowing 
 not how to yield, shut himself up (by a new stratagem 
 of war) in Podhajecy, a strait castle, and fortified in 
 haste, whereby he might exclude the cruel destruction, 
 which was hastening into the bowels of the kingdom ; 
 by which means the Barbarian, deluded and routed, 
 took conditions of peace ; as if he had made his inroad 
 for this only purpose, that he might bring to the most 
 serene elect matter of glory, victory. 
 
 For these four last years the famous victories of So- 
 bietski have signalized every year of his warlike com- 
 mand on the Cossacks and Tartarians both joined 
 together ; the most strong province of Braclavia, as far 
 as it lies between Hypanis and Tyral, with their cities 
 and warlike people, were won from the Cossack 
 enemy. 
 
 And those things are beyond belief, which two years 
 ago the most serene elect, after the taking of Camenick 
 (being undaunted by the siege of Laopolis) performed 
 to a miracle by the hardness and fortitude of the Polo- 
 nian army, scarce consisting of three thousand men, in 
 the continual course of five days and nights, sustaining 
 life without any food, except wild herbs; setting upon 
 the Tartarians, he made famous the names of Narulum, 
 Niemicrovia, Konarnura, Kalussia, obscure towns be- 
 fore, by a great overthrow of the Barbarians. He slew 
 three sultans of the Crim Tartars, descended of the 
 royal Gietian family, and so trampled on that great 
 force of the Scythians, that in these later years they 
 could not regain their courage, nor recollect their 
 forces. But the felicity of this last autumn exceeded 
 all his victories; whenas the fortifications at Choci- 
 mum, famous of old, were possessed and fortified by 
 above forty thousand Turks, in which three and forty 
 years ago the Polonians had sustained and repressed 
 the forces of the Ottoman family, drawn together out 
 of Asia, Africa, and Europe, fell to the ground within 
 a few hours, by the only (under God) imperatorious 
 valour and prudence of Sobietski ; for he counted it his 
 chief part to go about the watches, order the stations, 
 and personally to inspect the preparations of warlike 
 ordnance, to encourage the soldiers with voice, hands, 
 and countenance, wearied with hunger, badness of 
 weather, and three days standing in arms ; and he 
 (which is most to be admired) on foot at the head of 
 the foot forces, made tlirough, and forced his way to 
 the battery, hazarding his life devoted to God and his 
 country ; and thereupon made a cruel slaughter within 
 the camp and fortifications of the enemy ; while the 
 desperation of the Turks whetted their valour, and he 
 performed the part of a most provident and valiant 
 captain : at » hich time three bashaws were slain, the 
 fourth scarce passed with difficulty the swift river of 
 Tyras; eight thousand janizaries, twenty thousand 
 
OF JOHN III, KING OF POLAND. 
 
 585 
 
 chosen spachies, besides the more common soldiers, 
 were cut off; the whole camp with all their ammunition 
 and great ordnance, besides the Assyrian and Phryg-ian 
 wealth of luxurious Asia, were taken and pillaged ; 
 the famous castle of Cotimia, and the bridge over Ty- 
 ras, strong fortresses, equal to castles on each side the 
 river, were additions to the victory. Why therefore 
 should not such renowned heroic valour be crowned 
 with the legal reward of a diadem ? All Christendom 
 have gone before us in example, which, being arrived 
 to the recovery of Jerusalem under the conduct of 
 Godfrey of Bulloin, on their own accord gave him that 
 kingdom, for that he first scaled the walls of that city. 
 Our most serene elect is not inferiour, for he first 
 ascended two main fortresses of the enemy. 
 
 The moment of time adorns this victory unheard of 
 in many ages, the most serene king Michael dying the 
 day before, as it were signifying thereby that he gave 
 way to so great valour, as if it were by his command 
 and favour, that this conqueror might so much the more 
 gloriously succeed from the helmet to the crown, from 
 the commander's staff to the sceptre, from bis lying in 
 the field to the regal throne. 
 
 The commonwealth recalled the grateful and never 
 to be forgotten memory of his renowned father, the 
 most illustrious and excellent James Sobietski, cas- 
 tellan of Cracovia, a man to be written of with sedulous 
 care ; wlio by his golden eloquence in the public 
 councils, and by his hand in the scene of war, had so 
 often amplified the state of the commonwealth, and 
 defended it with the arms of his family. Neither can 
 we believe it happened without Divine Providence, that 
 in the same place wherein forty years ago his renowned 
 father, embassador of the Polonian commonwealth, had 
 made peace and covenants with Cimanus the Turkish 
 general, his great son should revenge with his sword 
 the peace broke, Heaven itself upbraiding the perfidious 
 enemy. The rest of his grandsires and great grand- 
 sires, and innumerable names of famous senators and 
 great officers, have as it were brought forth light to 
 the serene elect by the emulous greatness and glory of 
 his mother's descent, especially Stanislaus Zclkievius, 
 high chancellor of the kingdom, and general of the 
 anny, at whose grave in the neighbouring fields, in 
 which by the Turkish rage in the year sixteen hundred 
 and twenty he died, his victorious nephew took full re- 
 venge by so remarkable an overthrow of the enemy : 
 the immortal valour and fatal fall of his most noble 
 uncle Stanislaus Danilovitius in the year sixteen hun- 
 dred and thirty-five, palatine of Russia, doubled the 
 glory of his ancestors; whom desirous of honour, and 
 not enduring the sluggish peace wherein Poland then 
 slept secure, valour and youthful heat accited at his 
 own expense and private forces into the Tauric fields ; 
 that by his footing, and the ancient warlike Polonian 
 discipline, he might lead and point the way to these 
 merits of Sobietski, and being slain by Cantimiz the 
 Tartarian Cham, in revenge of his son by him slain, 
 he might by his noble blood give lustre to this regal 
 purple. Neither hath the people of Poland forgot the 
 most illustrious Marcus Sobietski, elder brother of our 
 
 most serene elect, who, when the Polonian army at 
 Batto was routed by the Barbarians, although occasion 
 was offered him of escape, yet chose rather to die in 
 the overthrow of such valiant men, a sacrifice for his 
 country, than to buy his life with a dishonourable re- 
 treat ; perhaps the divine judgment so disposing, whose 
 order is, that persons pass away and fail, and causes 
 and events happen again the same ; that by the repeated 
 fate of the Huniades, the elder brother, of great hopes, 
 removed by a lamented slaughter, might leave to his 
 younger brother surviving the readier passage to the 
 throne. That therefore whicli we pray may be happy, 
 auspicious, and fortunate to our ortliodox commonwealth, 
 and to all Christendom, with free and unanimous votes, 
 none opposing, all consenting and applauding, by the 
 right of our free election, notwithstanding the absence 
 of those which have been called and not appeared ; 
 We being led by no private respect, but having only 
 before our eyes the glory of God, the increase of the 
 ancient catholic church, the safety of the common- 
 wealth, and the dignity of the Polish nation and name, 
 have thought fit to elect, create, and name, JOHN in 
 Zolkiew and Zloczew Sobietski, supreme marshal 
 general of the kingdom, general of the armies, gover- 
 nor of Neva, Bara, Strya, Loporovient, and Kalussien, 
 most eminently adorned with so high endowments, 
 merits, and splendour, to be Kino of Poland, grand 
 duke of Lithuania, Russia, Prussia, Mazovia, Samo- 
 gitia, Kyovia, Volhinia, Padlachia, Podolia, Livonia, 
 Smolensko, Severia, and Czernicchovia, as we have 
 elected, created, declared, and named him: I the afore- 
 said bishop of Cracovia (the archiepiscopal see being 
 vacant) exercising the office and authority of primate, 
 and by consent of all the states, thrice demanded, op- 
 posed by none, by all and every one approved, con- 
 clude the election ; promising faithfully, that we will 
 always perform to the same most serene and potent 
 elect prince, lord John the Third, our king, the same 
 faith, subjection, obedience, and loyalty, according to 
 our rights and liberties, as we have performed to his 
 blessed ancestor, as also that we will crown the same 
 most serene elect in the next assembly at Cracovia, to 
 that end ordained, as our true king and lord, with the 
 regal diadem, with which the kings of Poland were 
 wont to be crowned ; and after the manner which the 
 Roman Catholic church beforetime hath observed in 
 anointing and inaugurating kings, we will anoint and 
 inaugurate him: yet so as he shall hold fast and observe 
 first of all the rights, immunities both ecclesiastical 
 and secular, granted and given unto us by his ancestor 
 of blessed memory ; as also these laws, which we our- 
 selves in the time of this present and former interreign, 
 according to the right of our liberty, and better pre- 
 servation of the commonwealth, have established. 
 And if, moreover, the most serene elect will bind him- 
 self by an oath, to perform the conditions concluded 
 with those persons sent by his majesty before the ex- 
 hibition of this present decree of election, and will 
 provide in best manner for the performance of them 
 by his authentic letters ; which decree of election we, 
 by divine aid desirous to put in execution, do send by 
 
686 
 
 DECLARATION FOR THE ELECTION, &c. 
 
 common consent, to deliver it into the hand of the 
 most serene elect, the most illustrious and reverend 
 lord bishop of Cracovia, toffcther with some senators 
 and chief officers, and the illustrious and magnificent 
 Bcnedictus Sapieha, treasurer of the court of the great 
 dukedom of Lithuania, marshal of the equestrian order ; 
 committing to them the same decree of intimating an 
 oath, upon the aforesaid premises, and receiving his 
 subscription ; and at length to give and deliver the 
 same decree into the hands of the said elect, and to act 
 and perform all other things which this affair requires; 
 in assurance whereof the seals of the lords senators, 
 and those of the equestrian order deputed to sign, are 
 here affixed. 
 
 Given by the bands of the most illustrious and re- 
 verend father in Christ, the lord Andrew Olszonski, 
 bishop of Culma and Pomisania, high chancellor of 
 the kingdom, in the general ordinary assembly of the 
 kingdom, and great dukedom of Lithuania, for the 
 election of the new king. Warsaw, the twenty -second 
 day of May, in the year of our Lord sixteen hundred 
 and seventy-four. 
 
 In the presence of Franciscus Praskmouski, j)rovost 
 of Guesna, abbot of Sicciethovia, chief secretary 
 of the kingdom ; Joannes Malachowski, abbot of 
 Mogila, referendary of the kingdom, &c. ; with 
 other great officers of the kingdom and clergy, to 
 the number of fourscore and two. And the rest, 
 many great officers, captains, secretaries, cour- 
 tiers, and inhabitants of the kingdom, and great 
 dukedom of Lithuania, gathered together at War- 
 saw to the present assembly of the election of the 
 kingdom and great dukedom of Lithuania. 
 
 Assistants at the solemn oath taken of his sacred 
 majesty on the fifth day of the month of June, in 
 the palace at Warsaw, after the letters patents de- 
 livered uj)on the covenants, and agreements, or 
 capitulations, the most reverend and excellent 
 lord Francisco Bonvisi, archbishop of Thcssaloni- 
 ca, apostolic nuncio ; count Christopl)erus a Scaff- 
 gotsch, Coecareus Tussanus de Forbin, de Jason, 
 bishop of Marseilles in France, Joannes free-baron 
 Hoverbec, from the marquis of Brandenburg, 
 embassadors, and other envoys and ministers of 
 state. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE 
 
 TO HOST or 
 
 THE SOVEREIGN PRINCES AND REPUBLICS OF EUROPE, 
 
 DURING THE ADMINISTRATION OF THE COMMONWEALTH AND THE PROTECTORS OLIVER AND 
 
 RICHARD CROMWELL. 
 
 LETTERS WRITTEN IN THE NAME OF THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 The Senate and People o/ England, to the most noble 
 Senate of the City o/Hamborouoh. 
 
 For how long a series of past years, and for what 
 important reasons, the friendship entered into by our 
 ancestors with your most noble city has continued to 
 this day, we both willingly acknowledge, together 
 with yourselves ; nor is it a thing displeasing to us, 
 frequently also to call to our remembrance. But as to 
 what we understand by your letters dated the twenty- 
 fifth of June, that some of our people deal not with 
 that fidelity and probity, as they were wont to do in 
 their trading and commerce among ye ; we presently 
 referred it to the consideration of certain persons well- 
 skilled in those matters, to the end they might make a 
 more strict inquiry into the frauds of the clothiers, and 
 other artificers of the woollen manufacture. And we 
 farther promise, to take such effectual care, as to make 
 you sensible of our unalterable intentions, to preserve 
 sincerity and justice among ourselves, as also never to 
 neglect any good offices of our kindness, that may re- 
 dound to the welfare of your commonwealth. On the 
 other hand, there is something likewise which we not 
 only required, but which equity itself, and all the laws 
 of God and man, demand of yourselves ; that you will 
 not only conserve inviolable to the merchants of our 
 nation their privileges, but by your authority and 
 power defend and protect their lives and estates, as it 
 becomes your city to do. Which as we most earnestly 
 desired in our former letters ; so upon the repeated 
 complaints of our merchants, that are daily made be- 
 fore us, we now more earnestly solicit and request it : 
 they complaining, that their safety, and all that they 
 have in the world, is again in great jeopardy among 
 y^. For although they acknowledge themselves to 
 have reaped some benefit for a short time of our former 
 
 letters sent you, and to have had some respite from the 
 injuries of a sort of profligate people; yet since the 
 coming of the same Coc~m to your city, (of whom we 
 complained before,) who pretends to be honoured with a 
 sort of embassy from , the son of the lately deceas- 
 ed king, they have been assaulted with all manner of ill 
 language, threats, and naked swords of ruffians and 
 homicides, and have wanted your accustomed protec- 
 tion and defence ; insomuch, that when two or three 
 of the merchants, together with the president of the so- 
 ciety, were hurried away by surprise aboard a certain 
 privateer, and that the rest implored your aid, yet they 
 could not obtain any assistance from you, till the mer" 
 chants themselves were forced to embody their own 
 strength, and rescue from the hands of pirates the per- 
 sons seized on in that river, of which your city is the 
 mistress, not without extreme hazard of their lives. 
 Nay, when they had fortunately brought them home 
 again, and as it were by force of arms recovered 
 them from an ignominious captivity, and carried the 
 pirates themselves into custody; we are informed, that 
 Coc~m was so audacious, as to demand the release of 
 the pirates, and that the merchants might be delivered 
 prisoners into his hands. Wc therefore again, and 
 again, beseech and adjure you, if it be your intention, 
 that contracts and leagues, and the very ancient com- 
 merce between both nations should be preserved, (the 
 thing which you desire,) that our people may be able 
 to assure themselves of some certain and firm support 
 and reliance upon your word, your prudence, and au- 
 thority; that you would lend them a favourable au- 
 dience concerning these matters, and that you would 
 inflict deserved punishment as well upon Coc~m, and 
 the rest of his accomplices in that wicked act, as upon 
 those who lately assaulted the preacher, hitherto un- 
 punished, or command them to depart your territories ; 
 
688 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 nur that you would believe, that e?rpclled and exiled 
 Tarquins are to be preferred before the friendship, and 
 the wealth, and power of our republic. For if you do 
 not carefully provide to the contrary, but that the ene- 
 mies of our republic shall presume to think lawful 
 the committing of any violences ag-ainst us in your 
 city, how unsafe, how ignominious the residence of 
 our people there will be, do you consider with your- 
 selves ! These things we recommend to your prudence 
 and equity, yourselves to the protection of Heaven. 
 Westminster, Aug. 10, 1649. 
 
 To the Senate o/*Hamborodgh. 
 
 Your conspicuous favour in the doubtful condition 
 of our affairs is now the reason, that after victory and 
 prosperous success, we can no longer question your 
 good-will and friendly inclination towards us. As for 
 our parts, the war being almost now determined, and 
 our enemies every where vanquished, we have deemed 
 notliing more just, or more conducing to the firm 
 establishment of the republic, than that they who by 
 our means (the Almighty being always our captain 
 and conductor) have either recovered their liberty, or 
 obtained their lives and fortunes, after the pernicious 
 ravages of a civil war, of our free gift and grace, 
 should testify and pay in exchange to their magistrates 
 allegiance and duty in a solemn manner, if need re- 
 quired : more especially when so many turbulent and 
 exasperated persons, more than once received into pro- 
 tection, will make no end, either at home or abroad, of 
 acting perfidiously, and raising new disturbances. To 
 that purpose we took care, to enjoin a certain form of 
 an oath, by which all who held any office in the com- 
 monwealth, or, being fortified with the protection of 
 the law, enjoyed both safety, ease, and all other con- 
 Teniencies of life, should bind themselves to obedience 
 in words prescribed. This we also thought proper to 
 be sent to all colonies abroad, or wherever else our 
 people resided for the convenience of trade ; to the end 
 that the fidelity of those, over whom we are set, might 
 be proved and known to us, as it is but reasonable and 
 necessary. Which makes us wonder so much the more 
 at what our merchants write from your city, that they 
 are not permitted to execute our commands by some or 
 other of your order and degree. Certainly what the 
 most potent United Provinces of the Low Countries, 
 most jealous of their power and their interests, never 
 thought any way belonging to their inspection, namely, 
 whether the English foreigners swore fidelity and 
 allegiance to their magistrates at home, either in these 
 or those words, how that should come to be so sus- 
 pected and troublesome to your city, we must plainly 
 acknowledge, that we do not understand. But this 
 proceeding from the private inclinations or foars of 
 some, whom certain vagabond Scots, expelled their 
 country, are said to have enforced by menaces, on pur- 
 pose to deter our merchants from swearing fidelity to 
 us, we impute not to your city. Most earnestly there- 
 fore we intrcat and conjure ye (for it is not now the 
 interest of trade, but the honour of the republic itself 
 
 that lies at stake) not to suffer any one among ye, who 
 can have no reason to concern himself in this affair, to 
 interpose his authority, whatever it be, with that su- 
 premacy which we challenge over our own subjects, not 
 by the judgment and opinion of foreigners, but by the 
 laws of our country; for who would not take it amiss, 
 if we should forbid your Hamburghers, residing here, 
 to swear fidelity to you, that are their magistrates at 
 home ? Farewel. 
 Jan. 4, 1649. 
 
 To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Philip the 
 Fourth, King of Upais : the Parliament of the Com- 
 monwealth o/'England, Greeting. 
 
 We send to your majesty Anthony Ascham, a person 
 of integrity, learned, and descended of an ancient fa- 
 mily, to treat of matters very advantageous, as we 
 hope, as well to the Spanish, as to the English nation. 
 Wherefore in friendly manner we desire, that you 
 would be pleased to grant, and order him a safe and 
 honourable passage to your royal city, and the same 
 in his return from thence, readily prepared to repay 
 the kindness when occasion offers. Or if your majesty 
 be otherwise inclined, that it may be signified to him 
 with the soonest, what your pleasure is in this par- 
 ticular, and that he may be at liberty to depart without 
 molestation. 
 
 Feb. 4, 1649. 
 
 To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Philip the 
 Fourth, KingofSpAifi : the Parliament of the Com- 
 monwealth o/'England, Greeting. 
 
 What is the condition of our affairs, and by what 
 heinous injuries provoked and broken, at length we 
 began to think of recovering our liberty by force of 
 arms ; what constituted form of government we now 
 make use of, can neither be concealed from your ma- 
 jesty, nor any other person, who has but cast an impar- 
 tial eye upon our writings published on these occasions. 
 Neither ought we to think it a difficult thing, among 
 fit and proper judges of things, to render our fidelity, 
 our equity, and patience, manifest to all men, and 
 justly meriting their approbation ; as also to defend 
 our authority, honour, and grandeur, against the infa- 
 mous tongues of exiles and fugitives. Now then, as to 
 what is more the concern of foreign nations, after hav- 
 ing subdued and vanquished the enemies of our coun- 
 try, through the miraculous assistance of Heaven, wc 
 openly and cordially profess ourselves readily prepared 
 to have peace and friendship, more desirable than all 
 enlargement of empire, with our neigiibour nations. 
 For these reasons we have sent into Spain, to your 
 majesty, Anthony Ascham, of approved dexterity and 
 j)robity, to treat with your majesty concerning friend- 
 ship, and the accustomed commerce between both na- 
 tions; or else, if it be your pleasure, to open a way for 
 the ratifying of new articles and alliances. Our request 
 therefore is, that you will grant him free liberty of 
 access to your majesty, and give such order, that care 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 589 
 
 may be taken of his safety and honour, while he resides 
 a public minister with your majesty; to the end he 
 may freely propose what he has in charge from us, for 
 the benefit, as we hope, of both nations; and certify to 
 us with the soonest, what are your majesty's sentiments 
 concerning these matters. 
 Westminster, Feb. 4, 1649. 
 
 To the most Serene Prince, John the Fourth, King of 
 Portugal : the Parliament of the Commonwealth of 
 England, Greeting. 
 
 After we had suffered many, and those the utmost, 
 mischiefs of a faithless peace, and intestine war, our 
 being reduced to those exigencies, that if we had any 
 regard to the safety of the re])ublic, there was a neces- 
 sity of altering for the chiefest part the form of govern- 
 ment; is a thing which we make no question is well 
 known to your majesty, by what we have both publicly 
 written and declared in justification of our proceedings. 
 To which, as it is but reason, if credit might be rather 
 given than to the most malicious calumnies of loose 
 and wicked men ; perhaps we should find those persons 
 more amicably inclined, who now abroad have the 
 worst sentiments of our actions. For as to what we 
 justify ourselves to have justly and strenuously per- 
 formed after the example of our ancestors, in pursuance 
 of our rights, and for recovery of the native liberty of 
 Englishmen, certainly it is not the work of human force 
 or wit to eradicate the perverse and obstinate opinions 
 of people wickedly inclined concerning what we have 
 done. But after all, in reference to what is common 
 to us with all foreign nations, and more for the general 
 interest on both sides, we are willing to let the world 
 know, that tliere is nothing which we more ardently 
 desire, than that the friendship and commerce, which 
 our people have been accustomed to maintain with all 
 our neighbours, should be enlarged and settled in the 
 most ample and solemn manner. And whereas our 
 people have always driven a very great trade, and 
 gainful to both nations, in your kingdom ; we shall 
 take care, as much as in us lies, tliat they may not 
 meet with any impediment to interrupt their dealings. 
 However, we foresee that all our industry will be in 
 vain, if, as it is reported, the pirates and revolters of 
 our nation shall be suffered to have refuge in your 
 ports, and after they have taken and plundered the 
 laden vessels of the English, shall be permitted to sell 
 their goods by public outcries at Lisbon. To the end 
 therefore that a more speedy remedy may be applied to 
 this growing mischief, and that we may be more clearly 
 satisfied concerning the peace which we desire, we 
 have sent to your majesty the most noble Charles Vane, 
 under the character of our agent, with instructions and 
 a commission, a plenary testimonial of the trust we 
 have reposed, and the employment we have conferred 
 upon him. Him therefore we most earnestly desire 
 your majesty graciously to hear, to give him credit, 
 and to take such order, that he may be safe in his per- 
 son and his honour, within the bounds of your domi- 
 nions. These things, as they will be most acceptable 
 
 to us, so we promise, whenever occasion offers, that the 
 same offices of kindness to your majesty shall be 
 mutually observed on all our parts. 
 Westminster, Feb. 4, 1649. 
 
 To the most Serene Prince, John the Fourth, King of 
 Portugal : the Parliament of the Commonwealth of 
 England, Greeting. 
 
 Almost daily and most grievous complaints are 
 brought before us, that certain of our seamen and offi- 
 cers, who revolted from us the last year, and treacher- 
 ously and wickedly carried away the ships with the 
 command of which they were entrusted, and who, 
 liaving made their escape from the port of Ireland, 
 where, being blocked up for almost a whole summer 
 together, they very narrowly avoided the punishment 
 due to their crimes, have now betaken themselves to 
 the coast of Portugal, and the mouth of the river Ta- 
 gus : that there they practise furious piracy, taking and 
 plundering all the English vessels they meet with sail- 
 ing to and fro upon the account of trade ; and that all 
 the adjoining seas are become almost impassable, by 
 reason of their notorious and infamous robberies. To 
 which increasing mischief unless a speedy remedy be 
 applied, who does not see, but that there will be a 
 final end of that vast trade so gainful to both nations, 
 which our people were wont to drive with the Portu- 
 guese .'' Wherefore we again and again request your 
 majesty, that you would command those pirates and 
 revolters to depart the territories of Portugal : and 
 that, if any pretended embassadors present themselves 
 from *******, that you will not vouchsafe to give them 
 audience ; but that you will rather acknowledge us, 
 upon whom the supreme power of England, by the 
 conspicuous favour and assistance of the Almighty, is 
 devolved ; and that the ports and rivers of Portugal 
 may not be barred and defended against your friends 
 and confederates fleet, no less serviceable to your emo- 
 lument than the trade of the English. 
 
 To the most Serene Prince Leopold, Archduke of 
 Austria, Governor of the Spanish Low Countries, 
 under King Philip. 
 
 So soon as word was brought us, not without a most 
 grievous complaint, that Jane Puckering, an heiress of 
 an illustrious and opulent family, while yet by reason 
 of her age she was under guardians, not far from the 
 house wherein she then lived at Greenwich, was vio- 
 lently forced from the hands and embraces of her at- 
 tendants ; and of a sudden in a vessel to that purpose 
 ready prepared, carried off into Flanders by the trea- 
 chery of one Walsh, who has endeavoured all the 
 ways imaginable, in contempt of law both human and 
 divine, to constrain a wealthy virgin to marriage, even 
 by terrifying her with menaces of present death : We 
 deeming it proper to apply some speedy remedy to so 
 enormous and unheard of piece of villany, gave orders 
 to some persons to treat with the governors of Newport 
 and Ostend (for the unfortunate captive was said to be 
 
590 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 landed in one of those two places) about rescuing the 
 freeborn lady out of the hands of the ravisiier. Who, 
 both out of their singular humanity and love of virtue, 
 lent their assisting aid to the young virgin in servi- 
 tude, and by downright robbery rifled from her habita- 
 tion : so that to avoid the violence of her imperious 
 masters, she was as it were deposited in a nunnery, 
 and committed to the charge of the governess of the 
 society. WTierefore the same Walsh, to get her again 
 into his clutches, has commenced a suit against her in 
 the ecclesiastical court of the bishop of Ypre, pretend- 
 ing a matrimonial contract between him and her. Now 
 in regard that both the ravisher and the ravished per- 
 son are natives of our country, as by the witnesses upon 
 their oaths abundantly appears ; as also for that the 
 splendid inheritance, after which most certainly the 
 criminal chiefly gapes, lies within our territories; so 
 that we conceive, that the whole cognizance and de- 
 termination of this cause belongs solely to ourselves ; 
 therefore let him repair hither, he who calls himself 
 the husband, here let him commence his suit, and de- 
 mand the delivery of the person, whom he claims for 
 bis wife. In the mean time, this it is that we most 
 earnestly request from your highness, which is no 
 more than what we have already requested by our 
 agent residing at Brussels, that you will permit an af- 
 flicted and many ways misused virgin, born of honest 
 parents, but pirated out of her native country, to re- 
 turn, as far as lies in your power, with freedom and 
 safety home again. This not only we, upon all oppor- 
 tunities offered, as readily prepared to return the same 
 favour and kindness to your highness, but also huma- 
 nity itself, and that same hatred of infamy, which 
 ought to accompany all persons of virtue and courage 
 in defending the honour of the female sex, seem alto- 
 gether jointly to require at your hunds. 
 
 Westminster, March 28, 1650. 
 
 To the most Serene Prince, John the Fourth, King of 
 Portugal. 
 
 Understanding that your majesty had both ho- 
 nourably received our agent, and immediately given 
 him a favourable audience, we thought it became us 
 to assure your majesty without delay, by speedy let- 
 ters from us, that nothing could happen more accept- 
 able to us, and that there is nothing which we have de- 
 creed more sacred, than not to violate by any word or 
 deed of ours, not first provoked, the peace, the friend- 
 sliip, and commerce, now for some time settled between 
 us and the greatest number of other foreign nations, 
 and among the rest with the Portuguese. Nor did we 
 send the English fleet to the mouth of the river Tagus 
 with any other intention or design than in pursuit of 
 enemies so often put to flight, and for recovery of our 
 vessels, which being carried away from their ownci*s by 
 force and treachery, the same rabble of fugitives con- 
 ducted to your coasts, and even to Lisbon itself, as to 
 the most certain fairs for the sale of their plunder. But 
 we are apt to believe, that by this time almost all the 
 Portuguese are abundantly convinced, from the flagi- 
 
 tious manners of tliose people, of their audaciousness, 
 their fury, and their madness. Which is the reason we 
 are in hopes, that we shall more easily obtain from 
 your majesty, first, that you will, as far as in you lies, 
 be assistant to the most illustrious Edward Popham, 
 whom we have made admiral of our new fleet, for the 
 subduing those detested freebooters; and that you will 
 no longer suffer them, together with their captain, not 
 guests, but pirates, not merchants, but the pests of 
 commerce, and violaters of the law of nations, to har- 
 bour in the ports and under the shelter of the fortresses 
 of your kingdom ; but that wherever the confines of 
 Portugal extend themselves, you will command them 
 to be expelled as well by land as by sea. Or if you 
 are unwilling to 'proceed to that extremity, at least 
 that with your leave it may be lawful for us, with our 
 proper forces to assail our own revolters and sea rob- 
 bers; and if it be the pleasure of Heaven, to reduce 
 them into our power. This, as we have earnestly de- 
 sired in our former letters, so now again with the great- 
 est ardency and importunity we request of your ma- 
 jesty. By this, whether equity, or act of kindness, 
 you will not only enlarge the fame of your justice 
 over all well-governed and civil nations, but also in a 
 greater measure bind both us and the people of Eng- 
 land, who never yet had other than a good opinion of the 
 Portuguese, to yourself and to your subjects. Farewel. 
 Westminster, April 27, 1650. 
 
 To the Hamburghers. 
 
 More than once we have written concerning the 
 controversies of the merchants, and some other things 
 which more nearly concern the dignity of our repub- 
 lic, yet no answer has been returned. But under- 
 standing that affairs of that nature can bardlj' be de- 
 termined by letters only, and that in the mean time 
 certain seditious persons have been sent to your city by 
 *******, authorized with no other commission than 
 that of malice and audaciousness, who make it tlicir 
 business utterly to extirpate the ancient trade of our 
 people in your city, especially of those whose fidelity 
 to their country is most conspicuous ; therefore we 
 have commanded the worthy and most eminent 
 Richard Bradshaw, to reside as our agent among ye ; 
 to the end he may be able more at large to treat and 
 negotiate with your lordships such matters and afl^airs, 
 as arc interwoven with the benefit and advantages of 
 both republics. Him therefore we request ye with the 
 soonest to admit to a favourable audience ; and that in 
 all things that credit may be given to him, that honour 
 paid him, as is usual in all countries, and among all 
 nations paid to those that bear his character. 
 
 Westminster, April 2, 1650. 
 
 To ///e Hamburghers. 
 
 Most Noble, Magnificent, and Illustrious, 
 our dearest Friends ; 
 That your sedulities in the reception of our agent 
 were so cordial and so egregious, we both gladly un- 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 591 
 
 derstand, and earnestly exhort ye that you would per- 
 severe in your goodwill and affection towards us. And 
 this we do with so much the greater vehemence, as 
 being informed, that the same exiles of ours, concern- 
 ing whom we have so frequently written, now carry 
 themselves more insolently in your city than they were 
 wont to do, and that they not only openly affront, but 
 give out threatening language in a most despightful 
 manner against our resident. Therefore once more by 
 these our letters we would have the safety of his per- 
 son, and the honour due to his quality, recommended 
 to your care. On the other side, if you inflict severe and 
 timely punishment upon those fugitives and ruffians, as 
 well the old ones as the new-comers, it will be most accept- 
 able to us, and becoming your authority and prudence. 
 Westminster, May 31, 1650. 
 
 To Philip the Fourth, King o/ Spain. 
 
 To our infinite sorrow we are given to .understand, 
 that Anthony Ascham, by us lately sent our agent to 
 your majesty, and under that character most civilly and 
 publicly received by your governors, upon his first 
 coming to your royal city, naked of all defence and 
 guard, was most bloodily murdered in a certain inn, 
 together with John Baptista de Ripa his interpreter, 
 butchered at the same time. Wherefore we most 
 earnestly request your majesty, that deserved punish- 
 ment may be speedily inflicted upon those parricides, 
 already apprehended, as it is reported, and committed 
 to custody; who have not only presumed to wound 
 ourselves through his sides, but have also dared to stab, 
 as it were, to the very heart, your faith of word and 
 royal honour. So that we make no question, but what 
 we so ardently desire would nevertheless be done effec- 
 tually, by a prince of his own accord so just and pious, 
 though nobody required it. As to what remains, we 
 make it our further suit, that the breathless carcass 
 may be delivered to his friends and attendants to be 
 brought back and interred in his own country, and that 
 such care may be taken for the security of those that 
 remain alive, as is but requisite ; till having obtained 
 an answer to these letters, if it may be done, they shall 
 return to us the witnesses of your piety and justice. 
 
 Westminster, June QSth, 1650. 
 
 To Philip the Fourth, King of Spain. 
 
 How heinously, and with what detestation, your ma- 
 jesty resented the villanous murder of our agent, An- 
 thony Ascham, and what has hitherto been done in the 
 prosecution and punishment of his assassinates, we 
 have been given to understand, as well by your ma- 
 jesty's own letters, as from your ambassador don Al- 
 phonso de Cardenos. Nevertheless so often as we con- 
 sider the horridness of that bloody fact, which utterly 
 subverts the very foundations of correspondence and 
 commerce, and of the privilege of embassadors, most 
 sacred among all nations, so villanously violated with- 
 out severity of punishment ; we cannot but with utmost 
 importunity repeat our most urgent suit to your ma- 
 
 jesty, that those parricides may with all the speed ima- 
 ginable be brought to justice, and that you would not 
 suflTer their merited pains to be suspended any longer 
 by any delay or pretence of religion. For though most 
 certainly we highly value the friendship of a potent 
 prince ; yet it behoves us to use our utmost endeavours, 
 that the authors of such an enormous parricide should 
 receive the deserved reward of their impiety. Indeed, 
 we cannot but with a grateful mind acknowledge that 
 civility, of which by your command our people were 
 not unsensible, as also your surpassing affection for us, 
 which lately your ambassador at large unfolded to us : 
 nor will it be displeasing to us, to return the same good 
 offices to your majesty, and the Spanish nation, when- 
 ever opportunity ofliers. Nevertheless, if justice be not 
 satisfied without delay, which we still most earnestly 
 request, we see not upon what foundations a sincere 
 and lasting friendship can subsist. For the preserva- 
 tion of which, however, we shall omit no just and laud- 
 able occasion ; to which purpose we are likewise apt 
 to believe, that the presence of your embassador does 
 not a little conduce. 
 
 To the Spanish Embassador. 
 
 Most Excellent Lord, 
 
 The council of state, so soon as their weighty affairs 
 would permit them, having carried into parliament the 
 four writings, which it pleased your excellency to im- 
 part to the council upon the nineteenth of December 
 last, have received in command from the parliament, to 
 return this answer to the first head of those writings, 
 touching the villanous assassinates of their late agent, 
 Anthony Ascham. 
 
 The parliament have so long time, so often, and so 
 justly demanded their being brought to deserved punish- 
 ment, that there needs nothing further to be said on a 
 thing of so great importance, wherein (as your excel- 
 lency well observed) his royal majesty's authority itself 
 is so deeply concerned, that, unless justice be done upon 
 such notorious offenders, all the foundations of human 
 society, all the ways of preserving friendship among 
 nations, of necessity must be overturned and abolished. 
 Nor can we apprehend by any argument drawn from 
 religion, that the blood of the innocent, shed by a pro- 
 pensely malicious murder, is not to be avenged. The 
 parliament therefore once more most urgently presses, 
 and expects from his royal majesty, according to their 
 first demands, that satisfaction be given them effectually 
 and sincerely in this matter. 
 
 To the most Excellent Lord Anthony John Lewis 
 DE LA Cerda, Duke of Medina Celi, Governor of 
 Andalusia : the Council of State constituted by Au- 
 thority of Parliament, Greeting. 
 
 We have received advice from those most accom- 
 plished persons, whom we lately sent with our fleet 
 into Portugal, in pursuit of traitors, and for the reco- 
 very of our vessels, that they were most civilly received 
 by your excellency, as often as they happened to touch 
 
993 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE 
 
 upou the coasts of Gallcecia, which is under your go- 
 veniment, and assisted with all things necessary to 
 those that perform long voyagfes. This civility of yours, 
 as it was always most acceptahle to us, so it is now 
 more especially at this time, while we are sensible of 
 the illwill of others in some places towards us without 
 any just cause given on our side : therefore we make 
 it our request to your illustrious lordship, that you will 
 persevere in the same good-will and affection to us, 
 and that you would continue your favour and assist- 
 ance to our people, according to your wonted civility, 
 as often as our ships put in to your harbours : and be 
 assured, that there is nothing which we desire of your 
 lordship in the way of kindness, which we shall not 
 be ready to repay both to you and yours, whenever the 
 like occasion shall be offered us. 
 
 Sealed with the seal of the council, 
 
 J. Bradshaw, President. 
 Westminster, Nov. 7th, 1650. 
 
 To the lUustriout and Magnificent Senate of the City 
 of Dantzick. 
 
 Magnificent and most Noble Lords, 
 our dearest Friends ; 
 Many letters are brought us from our merchants 
 trading upon the coast of Borussia, wherein they com- 
 plain of a grievous tribute imposed upon them in the 
 grand council of the Polanders, enforcing them to pay 
 the tenth part of all their goods for the relief of the 
 king of Scots, our enemy. Which in regard it is 
 plainly contrary to the law of nations, that guests and 
 strangers should be dealt withal in such a manner ; and 
 most unjust, that they should be compelled to pay 
 public stipends in a foreign commonwealth to him from 
 whom they are, by God's assistance, delivered at home ; 
 we make no question, but that out of respect to that 
 liberty, which as we understand you yourselves enjoy, 
 you will not suffer so heavy a burden to be laid on 
 merchants in your city, wherein they have maintained 
 a continual amity and commerce, to the extraordinary 
 advantage of the place for many years together. If 
 therefore you think it convenient, to undertake the 
 protection of our merchants trading among ye, which 
 we assuredly expect, as well from your prudence and 
 equity, as from the dignity and grandeur of your city; 
 we shall take that care, that you shall be sensible from 
 time to time of our grateful accejjtance of your kind- 
 ness, as often as the Dantzickers shall have any deal- 
 ings within our territories, or their ships, as frequently 
 it happens, put into our ports. 
 
 Westminster, Fehr. 6, 1650. 
 
 To the Portugal Agent. 
 
 Most Illustrious Lord, 
 We received your letters dated from Hampton the 
 fifteenth of this month, wherein you signify, that you 
 are sent by the king of Portugal to the parliament of 
 the commonwealth of England ; but say not under 
 what character, whether of embassador, or agent, or 
 
 envoy, which we would willingly understand by your 
 credential letters from the king, a copy of which you 
 may send us with all the speed you can. We would 
 also further know, wljcther you come with a plenary 
 commission, to give us satisfaction for the injuries, and 
 to make reparation for the damages, which your king 
 has done this republic, protecting our enemy all the 
 last summer in his harbours, and prohibiting the 
 English fleet, then ready to assail rebels and fugitives, 
 which our admiral had pursued so far ; but never re- 
 straining the enemy from falling upon ours. If you 
 return us word, that you have ample and full commis- 
 sion to give us satisfaction concerning all these matters, 
 and send us withal a copy of your recommendatory 
 letters, we shall then take care, that you may with all 
 speed repair to us upon the Public Faith : at which 
 time, when we have read the king's letters, you shall 
 have liberty freely to declare what further commands 
 you have brought along with you. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth o/* En gland, to 
 the most Serene Prince D. Ferdinand, Grand Duke 
 o/" Tuscany, Sfc. 
 
 We have received your highness's letters, dated 
 April twenty-two, sixteen hundred and fifty-one, and 
 delivered to us by your resident, Signor Almeric Sal- 
 vetti, wherein we readily perceive how greatly your 
 highness favours the English name, and the value you 
 have for this nation; which not only our merchants, 
 that for many years have traded in your ports, but also 
 certain of our young nobility, either travelling through 
 your cities, or residing there for the improvement of 
 their studies, both testify and confirm. Which as they 
 are things most grateful and acceptable to us, we also 
 on our parts make this request to your highness, that 
 your serenity will persevere in your accustomed good- 
 will and affection towards our merchants, and other 
 citizens of our republic, travelling through the Tuscan 
 territories. On the other side, we promise and under- 
 take, as to what concerns the parliament, that nothing 
 shall be wanting, which may any way conduce to the 
 confirmation and establishment of that commerce and 
 mutual friendship, that now has been of long con- 
 tinuance between both nations, and which it is our 
 earnest wish and desire should be preserved to perpe- 
 tuity, by all oflSces of humanity, civility, and mutual i 
 observance. \ 
 
 Sealed with the seal of the parlia- 
 ment, and subscribed by Wil- 
 Westminster, liam Lenthall, speaker of 
 
 Jan. 20, 1661. the parliament of the common- 
 
 wealth of England. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth o/* England, to 
 the Illustrious and Magnificent Senate of the City 
 
 q/*HAMBOROUOH. 
 
 Most Noble, Magnificent, and Illustrious, 
 our dearest Friends ; 
 The parliament of the commonwealtli of England, 
 out of their earnest desire to continue and preserve the 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 693 
 
 ancient friendship and mutual commerce between the 
 Eng-lish nation and jour city, not long since sent 
 thither Richard Bradshavv, esq., with the character of 
 our resident ; and among other instructions tending to 
 the same purpose, gave him an express charge to de- 
 mand justice against certain persons within your juris- 
 diction, who endeavoured to murder the preacher be- 
 longing to the English society, and who likewise laid 
 impious hands upon the deputy president, and some of 
 the principal merchants of the same company, and 
 hurried them away aboard a privateer. And although 
 the aforesaid resident, upon his first reception and 
 audience, made known to your lordships in a particular 
 manner the commands which he received from us ; 
 upon which it was expected, that you would have made 
 those criminals ere this a severe example of your justice ; 
 yet when we understood our expectations were not 
 answered, considering with ourselves what danger both 
 our people and their estates were in, if sufficient pro- 
 vision were not made for their security and protection 
 against the malice of their enemies, we again sent 
 orders to our aforesaid resident, to represent to your 
 lordships our judgment upon the whole matter; as also 
 to exhort and ])ersuade ye, in the name of this repub- 
 lic, to be careful of preserving the friendship and alli- 
 ance contracted between this commonwealth and your 
 city, as also the traffic and commerce no less advan- 
 tageous for the interest of both : and to that end, that 
 you would not fail to protect our m'^rchants, together 
 with their privileges, from all violation, and more par- 
 ticularly against the insolences of one Garmes, who 
 has carried himself contumeliously toward this repub- 
 lic, and publicly cited to the Chamber of Spire certain 
 merchants of the English company residing in your 
 city, to the great contempt of this commonwealth, and 
 trouble of our merchants ; for which we expect such 
 reparation, as shall be consentaneous to equity and 
 justice. 
 
 To treat of these heads, and whatever else more 
 largely belongs to the common friendship of both re- 
 publics, we have ordered our resident aforesaid to 
 attend your lordships, requesting that ample credit 
 may be given to him in such matters, as he shall pro- 
 pose relating to these affairs. 
 
 Westminster, Sealed with the parliament seal, 
 
 March 12, 1651. and subscribed, Speaker, &c. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth o/*England, <o 
 the most Serene Christiana, Queen of the Swedes, 
 Goths, and Vandals, &c.. Greeting. 
 
 Most Serene Queen ; 
 We have received and read your majesty's letters to 
 the parliament of England, dated from Stockholm, the 
 twenty-sixth of September last, and delivered by Peter 
 Spering Silvercroon ; and there is nothing which we 
 more vehemently and cordially desire, than that the 
 ancient peace, traffic, and commerce of long continu- 
 ance between the English and Swedes may prove diu- 
 turnal, and every day increase. Nor did we question, 
 but that your majesty's embassador was come amply 
 
 instructed to make those proposals chiefly, which should 
 be most for the interest and honour of both nations, and 
 which we were no less readily prepared to have heard, 
 and to have done effectually that which should have 
 been thought most secure and beneficial on both sides. 
 But it pleased the Supreme Moderator and Governor 
 of all things, that before he had desired to be heard as 
 to those matters, which he had in charge from your 
 majesty to propound to the parliament, he departed 
 this life, (whose loss we took with that heaviness and 
 sorrow, as it became persons whom it no less behoved 
 to acquiesce in the will of the Almighty,) whence it 
 comes to pass, that we are prevented hitherto from 
 knowing your majesty's pleasure, and that there is a 
 stop at present put to this negotiation. Wherefore we 
 thought we could do no less than by these our letters, 
 which we have given to our messenger on purpose sent 
 with these unhappy tidings, to signify to your majesty, 
 how acceptable your letters, how grateful your public 
 minister were to the parliament of the conmionwcalth 
 of England ; as also how earnestly we expect your 
 friendship, and how highly we shall value the amity 
 of so great a princess ; assuring your majesty, that we 
 have those thoughts of increasing the commerce be- 
 tween this republic and your majesty's kingdom, as 
 we ought to have of a thing of the highest importance^ 
 which for that reason will be most acceptable to the 
 parliament of the commonwealth of England. And so 
 we recommend your majesty to the protection of tlie 
 Divine Providence. 
 
 Westminster, Sealed with the parliament seal, 
 
 March — , 1651. and subscribed. Speaker, &c. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth o/" England, <o 
 the most Serene and Potent Prince, Philip the 
 Fourth, King o/ Spain, Greeting. 
 
 The merchants of this commonwealth, who trade in 
 your majesty's territories, make loud complaints of ex- 
 traordinary violence and injuries offered them, and of 
 new tributes imposed upon them by the governors and 
 other officers of your ports and places where they traf- 
 fic, and particularly in the Canary islands, and this 
 against the articles o( the league solemnly ratified by 
 both nations on the account of trade; the truth of 
 which complaints they have confirmed by oath. And 
 they make it out before us, that unless they can enjoy 
 their privileges, and that their losses be repaired ; lastly 
 that except they may have some certain safeguard and 
 protection for themselves and their estates against those 
 violences and injuries, they can no longer traffic in 
 those places. Which complaints of theirs being duly 
 weighed by us, and believing the unjust proceedings 
 of those ministers either not at all to have reached your 
 knowledge, or else to have been untruly represented to 
 your majesty, we deemed it convenient to send the 
 complaints themselves, together with these our letters, 
 to your majesty. Nor do we question, but that your 
 majesty, as well out of your love of justice, as for the 
 sake of that commerce no less gainful to your subjects 
 than our people, will command your governors to de- 
 
594 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 sist from those unjust oppressions of our merchants, 
 and so order it, that they may obtain speedy justice, 
 and due satisfaction fur those injuries done them by 
 don Pedro de Carillo de Guzman, and others ; and that 
 your majesty will take care, that the merchants afore- 
 said may reap the fruit of those articles; and be so far 
 under your protection, tliat both their persons and their 
 estates may be secure and free from all manner of in- 
 jury and vexation. And this they believe they shall 
 for the g-reatest part obtain if your majesty will be 
 pleased to restore them that expedient, taken from 
 them, of a judge-conservator, who may be able to de- 
 fend them from a new consulship more uneasy to them ; 
 lest if no shelter from injustice be allowed them, there 
 should follow a necessity of breaking* off that com- 
 merce, which Las hitherto brought great advantages 
 to both nations, while the articles of the league are 
 violated in such a manner. 
 Westm. Aug. — , 1651. 
 
 To the most Serene Prince, the Duke of Venice, and 
 the most Illustrious Senate. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, most Illustrious Senate, 
 our dearest Friends ; 
 Certain of our merchants, by name John Dickins, 
 and Job Throckmorton, with others, have made their 
 complaints to us, that upon the twenty-eighth of No- 
 vember, sixteen hundred and fifty-one, having seized 
 upon a hundred butts of caviare in the vessel called the 
 Swallow, riding in the Downs, Isaac Taylor master, 
 which were their own proper goods, and laden aboard 
 the same ship in the Muscovite Bay of Archangel, 
 and this by the authority of our court of admiralty ; 
 in which court, the suit being there depending, they 
 obtained a decree for the delivery of the said butts of 
 caviare into their possession, they having first given 
 security to abide by the sentence of that court : and 
 that the said court, to the end the said suit might be 
 brought to a conclusion, having written letters, accord- 
 ing to custom, to the magistratesand judges of Venice; 
 •wherein they requested liberty to cite John Piatti to 
 appear by his proctor in the English court of admiralty, 
 where the suit depended, and prove his right : never- 
 theless, that the said Piatti and one David Rutts a 
 Hollander, while this cause depends here in our court, 
 put the said John Dickins, and those other merchants, 
 to a vast deal of trouble about the said caviare, and 
 solicit the seizure of their goods and estates as forfeited 
 for debt. All which things, and whatever else has 
 hitherto been done in our foresaid court is more at large 
 set forth in those letters of request aforementioned ; 
 which after we had viewed, we thought proper to be 
 transmitted to the most serene republic of Venice, to 
 the end they might be assistant to our merchants in 
 this cause. Upon the whole therefore, it is our earnest 
 request to your highness, and the most illustrious 
 senate, that not only those letters may obtain their due 
 force and weight ; but also, tliat the goods and estates 
 of the merchants, which the foresaid Piatti and David 
 RutU have endeavoured to make liable to forfeiture, 
 
 may be disclurged ; and that the said defendants may 
 be referred hither to our court, to try what right they 
 have in their claim to this caviare. Wherein your 
 highness and the most serene republic will do as well; 
 what is most just in itself, as what is truly becoming 
 the spotless amity between both republics : and lastly, 
 what will gratefully be recompensed by the goodwill and. 
 kind offices of this republic, whenever occasions offer. 
 Sealed with the seal of the council, 
 Whitehall, and subscribed President of the 
 
 Feb. — , 1652. council. 
 
 To the Spanish Embassador. 
 
 Most Excellent Lord, 
 
 The council of state, according to a command from 
 the parliament, dated the second of March, having 
 taken into serious deliberation your excellency's paper 
 of the fifteenth of February, delivered to the commis- 
 sioners of this council, wherein it seemed good to your 
 excellency to propose, that a reply might be given to 
 two certain heads therein specified as previous, returns 
 the following answer to your excellency. 
 
 The parliament, when they gave an answer to those 
 things which were proposed by your excellency at your 
 first audience, as also in those letters which they wrote 
 to the most serene king of Spain, gave real and ample 
 demonstrations, how grateful and how acceptable that 
 friendship and that mutual alliance, which was oflfered 
 by his royal majesty, and by yourself in his name, 
 would be to them ; and how fully they were resolved, 
 as far as in them lay, to make the same returns of 
 friendship and good offices. 
 
 After that, it seemed good to your excellency, at 
 your first audience in council upon the nineteenth 
 of December old style, to propound to this council, as 
 a certain ground or method for an auspicious com- 
 mencement of a stricter amity, that some of their body 
 might be nominated, who might hear what your excel- 
 lency had to propose ; and who having well weighed 
 the benefit, that might redound from thence, should 
 speedily report the same to the council. To which 
 request of yours that satisfaction might be given, the 
 council appointed certain of their number to attend 
 your excellency, which was done accordingly. But 
 instead of those things, which were expected to have 
 been propounded, the conference produced no more 
 than the above mentioned paper : to which the answer 
 of the council is this. 
 
 When the parliament shall have declared their minds, 
 and your excellency shall have made the progress as 
 above expected, we shall be ready to confer with your 
 excellency, and to treat of such matters as you shall 
 propose in the name of the king your master, as well 
 in r'-Cjrence to the friendship already concluded, as the 
 enterit'ij into another more strict and binding; or as 
 to any thing else, which shall be oflTered by ourselves 
 in the name of this republic : and when we descend to 
 particulars, we shall return such answers as are most 
 proper, and the nature of the thing proposed shall re- 
 quire. 
 
 Whitehall, March 21, 1652. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 595 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth q/" England, to 
 the most Serene Prince Frederick the Third, King 
 ©/"Denmark, i5rc. Greeting. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, 
 We have received your majesty's letters, dated from 
 Copenhagen the twenty-first of December last, and 
 delivered to the parliament of the commonwealth of 
 England by the noble Henry Willemsem Rosen wyng 
 de Lynsacker, and most gladly perused them, with that 
 affection of mind, which the matters therein propounded 
 justly merit, and request your majesty to be fully per- 
 suaded of this, that the same inclinations, the same 
 desires of continuing and preserving the ancient friend- 
 ship, commerce, and alliance, for so many years main- 
 tained between England and Denmark, which are in 
 your majesty, are also in us. Not being ignorant, that 
 though it has pleased Divine Providence, beholding 
 this nation with such a benign and favourable aspect, 
 to change for the better the received form of the former 
 government among us ; nevertheless, that the same 
 interests on both sides, the same common advantages, 
 the same mutual alliance and free traffic, which pro- 
 duced the former leagues and confederacies between 
 both nations, still endure and obtain their former force 
 and virtue, and oblige both to make it their common 
 study by rendering those leagues the most beneficial 
 that may be to each other, to establish also a nearer 
 and sounder friendship for the time to come. And if 
 your majesty shall be pleased to pursue those counsels, 
 which are manifested in your royal letters, the parlia- 
 ment will be ready to embrace the same with all ala- 
 crity and fidelity, and to contribute all those things to 
 the utmost of their power, which they shall think may 
 conduce to that end. And they persuade themselves, 
 that your majesty for this reason will take those coun- 
 sels in reference to this republic, which may facilitate 
 the good success of those things propounded by your 
 majesty to ourselves so desirous of your amity. In the 
 mean time, the parliament wishes all happiness and 
 prosperity to your majesty and people. 
 
 Westminster, 
 April —, 1652. 
 
 Under the seal of the parlia- 
 ment, and subscribed in 
 its name, and by the au- 
 thority of it. Speaker, &c. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, to 
 the most Illustrious and Magnificent, the Proconsuls 
 and Senators of the Hanse Towns, Greeting, 
 
 Most Noble, Magnificent, and Illustrious, 
 our dearest Friends ; 
 The parliament of the commonwealth of England 
 has both received and perused your letters of the six- 
 teenth of January last, delivered by your public mi- 
 nister Leo ab Aysema, and by their authority have 
 given him an audience; at what time he declared the 
 cordial and friendly inclinations of your cities toward 
 this republic, and desired that the ancient friendship 
 2 Q 
 
 might still remain on both sides. The parliament 
 therefore, for their parts, declare and assure your lord- 
 ships, that they deem nothing more grateful to them- 
 selves, than that the same friendship and alliance, 
 which has hitherto been maintained between this na- 
 tion and those cities, should be renewed, and firmly ra- 
 tified ; and that they will be ready, upon all occasions 
 fill}' offered, what they promise in words solemnly to 
 perform in real deeds ; and expect that their ancient 
 friends and confederates should deal by them with the 
 same truth and integrity. But as to those things, 
 which your resident has more particularly in charge 
 in regard they were by us referred entire to the coun- 
 cil of state, and his proposals were to be there consi- 
 dered, they transacted with him there, and gave him 
 such answers, as seemed most consentaneous to 
 equity and reason, of which your resident is able 
 to give you an account; whose prudence and con- 
 spicuous probity proclaim him worthy the public cha- 
 racter by you conferred upon him. 
 
 Westminster, 
 April—, 1652. 
 
 Under the seal of the parlia- 
 ment, in the name, and by 
 the authority of it, sub- 
 scribed. Speaker, &c. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth of EtiCLA^D, to 
 the Illustriotts and Magnificent Senate of the City of 
 Ha MBO ROUGH, Greeting. 
 
 Most Noble, Magnificent, and Illustrious, 
 our dearest Friends ; 
 The parliament of the commonwealth of England 
 has received and perused your letters, dated from Ham- 
 borough the fifteenth of January last, and delivered 
 by the noble Leo ab Aysema, yours and the rest of the 
 Hanseatic cities resident, and by their own authority 
 gave him audience ; and as to what other particular 
 commands he had from your city, they have referred 
 them to the council of state, and gave them orders to 
 receive his proposals, and to treat with him as soon as 
 might be, concerning all such things as seemed to be 
 just and equal : which was also done accordingly. 
 And as the parliament has made it manifest, that they 
 will have a due regard to what shall be proposed by 
 your lordships, and have testified their singular good- 
 will toward your city, by sending their resident thither, 
 and commanding his abode there ; so on the other side 
 they expect, and deservedly require from your lord- 
 ships, that the same equity be returned to them, in 
 things which are to the benefit of this republic, either 
 already proposed, or hereafter to be propounded by our 
 said resident in their name to your city, anciently our 
 friend and confederate. 
 
 Westminster, 
 April — , 1 652. 
 
 Under the seal of the parlia- 
 ment, in the name, and by 
 the authority of it, sub- 
 scribed. Speaker, &c. 
 
5Q6 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 The Council of State of the Republic of England, to 
 the most Serene Prince Ferdinand the Second, 
 Grand Duke o/* Tuscany, (Hreeting. 
 
 The council of state being informed by letters from 
 Charles Longland, who takes care of the affairs of the 
 English in jour highness's court of Leghorn, that 
 lately fourteen men of war belonging to the United 
 Provinces came into that harbour, and openly threat- 
 ened to sink or bum the English ships that were riding 
 in your port; but that your Serenity, whose protection 
 and succour the English merchants implored, gave 
 command to the governor of Leghorn, that he should 
 assist and defend the English vessels : they deemed it 
 their duty to certify to j'our highness how acceptable 
 that kindness and protection, which you so favourably 
 afforded the English nation, was to this republic; and 
 do promise your highness, that they will always keep 
 in remembrance the merit of so deserving a favour, and 
 will be ready upon all occasions to make the same re- 
 turns of friendship and good offices to your people, and 
 to do all things else, which may conduce to the preser- 
 vation and continuance of the usual amity and com- 
 merce between both nations. And whereas the Dutch 
 men of war, even in the time of treaty offered by them- 
 selves, were so highly perfidious as to fall upon our 
 fleet in our own roads, (in which foul attempt, God, as 
 most just arbiter, showed himself offended and oppo- 
 site to their design,) but also in the ports of foreigners 
 endeavoured to take or sink our merchant vessels ; wo 
 thought it also necessary to send this declaration also 
 of the parliament of the commonwealth of England to 
 your highness, the publishing of which was occasioned 
 by the controversies at present arisen between this re- 
 public and the United Provinces. By which your 
 highness may easily perceive how unjust and contrary 
 to all the laws of God and of nations those people have 
 acted against this republic; and how cordially the 
 parliament laboured, for the sake of public tranquillity, 
 to have retained their pristine friendship and alliance. 
 In the name, and by the autho- 
 
 Whitehall, rity of the Council, subscribed, 
 
 July2i), 1652. President. 
 
 To the Spanish Embassador. 
 
 Most Excellent Lord, 
 The council of state, upon mature deliberation of 
 that paper which they received from your excellency, 
 6 Jun*; 1652, as also upon that which your excellency 
 at your audience the tV of this month delivered to the 
 council, return this answer to both those papers ; that 
 the parliament, &c. was always very desirous of pre- 
 serving the firm friendship and good peace settled at 
 present between this republic and his royal majesty of 
 Spain, from the time that first your excellency signified 
 the tendency of his majesty's inclinations that way, 
 and was always ready to ratify and confirm the same 
 to the benefit and advantage of both nations. And 
 this the council of state in the name, and by command 
 
 of the parliament, in their papers oftlinics made known 
 to your excellency ; and particularly, according to 
 your excellency's desire, made choice of commissioners 
 to attend and receive from your excellency such pro- 
 posals as might conduce to the same purpose. At 
 which meeting, instead of making such proposals, it 
 seemed good to your excellency only to propound 
 some general matters, as it were previous to a future 
 conference, concerning which it seemed to the council 
 that the parliament had in former papers fully made 
 known their sentiments. Nevertheless for more ample 
 and accumulative satisfaction, and to remove all scru- 
 ples from your excellency concerning those matters 
 which they at that time proposed, the council in that 
 paper, dated jo Aprfi,' declared themselves ready to come 
 to a conference with your excellency, concerning those 
 things which you had in charge from his royal majesty, 
 as well in reference to the pristine amity, as to any 
 farther negotiation ; as also touching such matters as 
 should be exhibited by us, in the name of this repub- 
 lic ; and when we came to such particulars as were to 
 the purpose, and the nature of the thing required, then 
 to give convenient answers. To which it seemed good 
 to your excellency to make no reply, nor to proceed 
 any farther in that affair for almost two months. 
 About that time the council received from your excel- 
 lency your first paper, dated ^ ju*^; wherein you only 
 made this proposal, that the articles of peace and league 
 between the late King Charles and your master, dated 
 the T6 of November, 1630, might be reviewed, and 
 that the several heads of it might be either enlarged or 
 left out, according to the present condition of times and 
 things, and the late alteration of government. Which 
 being no more than what we ourselves briefly and 
 clearly signified in our foresaid paper of the Jo Altrit' 
 the council expected, that some particular articles 
 would have been propounded out of that league, with 
 those amplifications and alterations of which you made 
 mention ; since otherwise it is impossible for us to re- 
 turn any other answer concerning this matter, than 
 what we have already given. And whereas your ex- 
 cellency in your last paper seems to charge us with 
 delay, the council therefore took a second review of the 
 foresaid paper of the ^ jinel and of what was therein 
 propounded, and are still of opinion, that they have 
 fully satisfied your excellency in that former paper : 
 to which they can only farther add, that so soon as 
 your excellency shall be pleased, either out of the 
 leagues already made, or in any other manner, to frame 
 such conditions as shall be accommodated to the pre- 
 sent state of things and times, upon which you desire to 
 have the foundations of friendship laid on your side, 
 they will immediately return you such answers as by 
 them shall be thought just and reasonable, and which 
 shall be sufficient testimonials, that the parliament still 
 perseveres in the same desires of preserving an untaint- 
 ed and firm amity with the king your master, and that 
 on their parts they will omit no honest endeavours, and 
 worthy of themselves, to advance it to the highest 
 perfection. 
 
 Furthermore, the council deems it to be a part of 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 597 
 
 their duty, that your excellency should be put in mind 
 of that paper of ours, dated January 30, 1651, to which 
 in regard your excellency has returned no answer as 
 yet, we press and expect that satisfaction be given to 
 the parliament, as to what is therein mentioned. 
 
 The Answer qf the Council of State to the Reply of 
 the Lords Embassadors Extraordinary from the 
 King of Denmark and Norway, delivered to the 
 Commissioners of the Council, to the Answer which 
 the Council gave to their fourteen Demands. 
 
 To the end that satisfaction may be given to the 
 foresaid lords embassadors in reference to the answer 
 of the council to the fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and 
 ninth article, the council consents, that this following 
 clause shall be added at the end of their answers : that 
 is to say, besides such colonies, islands, ports, and 
 places, under the dominion of either party, to which it 
 is by law provided that nobody shall resort upon the 
 account of trade or commerce, unless upon special 
 leave first obtained of that party to which that colony, 
 island, port, or places belong. 
 
 The receiving of any person into any ship, that shall 
 be driven in by stress of weather into the rivers, ports, 
 or bays, belonging to either party, shall not render that 
 vessel liable to any trouble or search, by the answer of 
 the council to the eleventh article, as the foresaid lords 
 embassadors in their reply seem to have understood, 
 unless it be where such a receiving shall be against 
 the laws, statutes, or custom of that place where the 
 vessel put in, wherein it seems fo the council, that 
 there is nothing of severity ordained, but what equally 
 conduces to the security of both republics. 
 
 As to the proving the property of such ships and 
 goods as shall be cast ashore by shipwreck, the coun- 
 cil deems it necessary that an oath be administered in 
 those courts which are already, or shall hereafter be 
 constituted, where the claimers may be severally heard 
 and every body's right be determined and adjudged ; 
 which cannot be so clearly and strictly done by writ- 
 ten certificates, whence many scruples and doubts may 
 arise, and many frauds and deceits creep into that sort 
 of proof, which it concerns both parties to prevent. 
 The council also deems it just, that a certain time be 
 prefixed, before which time, whoever does not prove 
 himself the lawful owner of the said goods, shall be 
 excluded, to avoid suits. But as to the manner of put- 
 ting perishable goods to sale, that are cast ashore by 
 shipwreck, the council thinks it meet to propose the 
 way of selling by inch of candle, as being the most 
 probable means to procure the true value of the goods 
 for the best advantage of the proprietors. Neverthe- 
 less, if the foresaid lords embassadors shall propose 
 any other method already found out, which may more 
 properly conduce to this end, the council will be no 
 hindrance, but that what is just may be put in prac- 
 tice. Neither is it to be understood, that the considera- 
 tion of this matter shall put any stop to the treaty. 
 
 As to the punishment of those, who shall violate the 
 propounded treaty, the council has made that addition, 
 
 which is mentioned in their answer to the fourteenth 
 article, for the greater force and efficacy of that article, 
 and thereby to render the league itself more firm and 
 lasting. 
 
 As to the last clause of the fourteenth article, we 
 think it not proper to give our assent to those leagues 
 and alliances, of which mention is made in the afore- 
 said answers, and which are only generally propound- 
 ed, before it be more clearly apparent to us what they 
 are. But when your excellencies shall be pleased to 
 explain those matters more clearly to the council, we 
 may be able to give a more express answer to those 
 particulars. 
 
 A Reply of the Council of State to the Atiswer of the 
 foresaid Lords Embassadors, which was returned to 
 the six Articles propounded by the Council aforesaid, 
 in the Name of the Republic q/* England. 
 
 The council, having viewed the commissions of the 
 foresaid lords embassadors, giving them power to trans- 
 act with the parliament or their commissioners, concern- 
 ing all things expedient to be transacted in order to the 
 reviving the old leagues, or adding new ones, believed 
 indeed the foresaid lords to have been furnished with 
 that authority, as to be able to return answers, and nego- 
 tiate all things, as well such as should be propounded by 
 this republic, as on the behalf of the king of Denmark 
 and Norway, and so did not expect the replies, which 
 it has pleased the foresaid lords embassadors to give to 
 the first, second, third, and fifth demand of the coun- 
 cil, whereby of necessity a stop will be put to this 
 treaty, in regard it is but just in itself, and so resolved 
 on in council, to comprehend the whole league, and 
 to treat at the same time as well concerning those 
 things which regard this republic, as those other mat- 
 ters, which concern the king of Denmark and Norway. 
 Wherefore it is the earnest desire of the council, that 
 your excellencies would be pleased to return an answer 
 to our first, second, third, and fifth demand. 
 
 As to the fourth article concerning the customs of 
 Gluckstadt, in regard they are now abolished, as your 
 excellencies have mentioned in your answer, the coun- 
 cil presses that their abrogation may be ratified by this 
 treaty, lest they should be reimposed hereafter. 
 
 As to the sixth article concerning piracy, the council 
 inserted it, as equally appertaining to the benefit of 
 both, and to the establishing of trade in common, which 
 is much disturbed by pirates and searobbere. And 
 whereas the answer of the lords embassadors, as to this 
 article, relates only to enemies, but makes no mention 
 of pirates, the council therefore desires a more distinct 
 reply to it. 
 
 And whereas the foresaid lords embassadors in their 
 reply to the answer of the council have passed over 
 both their tenth article, and the answer of the council 
 to it; the council have thought it necessary to add this 
 following article, to their following demands. 
 
 That the people and inhabitants of the republic of 
 England trading into any kingdoms, regions, or terri- 
 tories of the king of Denmark and Norway, shall not 
 
5iffi 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 for the future pay any more customs, tribute, taxes, 
 duties, or stipends, or in any other manner, than the 
 people of the United Provinces, or any other foreign 
 nation, that pays the least, coming in or going out of 
 harbour ; and shall enjoy the same, and as equally 
 ample freedom, privileges, and immunities, both com- 
 ing and going, and so long as they shall reside in the 
 country, as also in fishing, trading, or in any other 
 manner which any other people of a foreign nation 
 enjoys, or may enjoy in the foresaid kingdoms, and 
 throughout the whole dominions of the said king of 
 Denmark and Norway : which privileges also the sub- 
 jects of the king of Denmark and Norway shall equally 
 enjoy throughout all the territories and dominions of 
 the republic of England. 
 
 The Council of State of the Republic of England, to 
 the most Serene Prince, Ferdinand the Second, 
 Grand Duke of Tvscaiiy, Greeting. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, our dearest Friend, 
 The council of State understanding, as well by your 
 highness's agent here residing, as by Charles Long- 
 land, chief factor for the English at Leghorn, with 
 what affection and fidelity your highness undertook 
 the protection of the English vessels putting into the 
 port of Leghorn for shelter, against the Dutch men of 
 war threatening them with nothing but ransack and 
 destruction, by their letters of the twenty-ninth of July 
 (which they hope are by this time come to your high- 
 ness's hands) have made known to your highness how 
 grateful and how acceptable it was to them ; and at the 
 same time sent to your serenity a declaration of the par- 
 liament of the commonwealth of England, concerning 
 the present difierences between this Republic and the 
 United Provinces. And whereas the council has again 
 been informed by the same Charles Longland, what 
 further commands your highness gave for the security 
 and defence of the English vessels, notwithstanding 
 the opposite endeavours of the Dutch, they deemed 
 this opportunity not to be passed over, to let your 
 highness understand once more, how highly they es- 
 teem your justice and singular constancy in defending 
 their vessels, and how acceptable they took so great a 
 piece of service. Which being no mean testimony of 
 your solid friendship and affection to this republic, your 
 highness may assure yourself, that the same offices of 
 kindness and goodwill towards your highness shall 
 never be wanting in us ; such as may be able to de- 
 monstrate how firmly we are resolved to cultivate both 
 long and constantly, to the utmost of our power, that 
 friendship which is between your serenity and this re- 
 public. In the mean time, we have expressly com- 
 manded all our ships, upon their entrance into your 
 ports, not to fail of paying the accustomed salutes by 
 firing their guns, and to give all other due honours to 
 your highness. 
 
 Whitehall, Sealed with the Council-Seal, and 
 
 Sept. — 1652. subscribed, President. 
 
 To the Spanish Embassador, Alphonso De Car- 
 denas. 
 Most Excellent Lord, 
 Your excellency's letters of the tV of November 
 1652, delivered by your secretary, together with two 
 petitions enclosed, concerning the ships, the Sampson 
 and San Salvadore, were read in council. To which 
 the council returns this answer, That the English man 
 of war meeting with the aforesaid ships not in the 
 Downs, as your excellency writes, but in the open sea, 
 brought them into port as enemies' ships, and therefore 
 lawful prize ; and the court of admiralty, to which it 
 properly belongs to take cognizance of all causes of 
 this nature, have undertaken to determine the right in 
 dispute; where all parties concerned on both sidea 
 shall be fully and freely heard, and you may be as- 
 sured that right shall take place. We have also sent 
 your excellency's request to the judges of that cour^ 
 to the end we may more certainly understand whal 
 progress they have made in their proceeding to judg- 
 ment. Of which, so soon as we are rightly informed, 
 we shall take care that such orders shall be givei 
 in this matter, as shall correspond with justice, and 
 become the friendship that is between this republic and 
 your king. Nor are we less confident, that his royal 
 majesty will by no means permit the goods of the ene- 
 mies of this commonwealth to be concealed, and escape 
 due confiscation under the shelter of being owned by 
 his subjects. 
 
 Sealed with the Council-Seal, 
 Whitehall, and subscribed, 
 
 Nov. 11, 1652. William Masham, President. 
 
 To the Spanish Embassador. 
 Most Excellent Lord, 
 But lately the council has been informed by car 
 tain Badiley, admiral of the fleet of this republic ic 
 the Straits, that after he himself, together with three^ 
 other men of war, had for two daj's together engaged 
 eleven of .the Dutch, put into Porto Longonc, as well 
 to repair the damages he had received in the fight, aS; 
 also to supply himself with warlike ammunition ; where 
 the governor of the place performed all the good office 
 of a most just and courteous pei-son, as well towards 
 his own, as the rest of the men of war under his con- 
 duct. Now in regard that that same place is under^ 
 the dominion of the most serene king of Spain, the 
 council cannot but look upon the singular civility of 
 that garrison to be the copious fruit of that stricter 
 mutual amity so auspiciously commenced ; and there- 
 fore deem it to be a part of their duty, to return their 
 thanks to his majesty for a kindness so opportunely 
 received, and desire your excellency to signify this to 
 your most serene king, and to assure him, that the par- 
 liament of the commonwealth of England will be al- 
 ways ready to make the same returns of friendship and 
 civility upon all occasions offered. 
 
 Sealed with the Council-Seal, 
 Westminster, and subscribed, 
 
 Nov. 11, 1652. William Masham, President. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 599 
 
 j The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, 
 to the most Serene Prince Ferdinand the Second, 
 Grand Duke of TvscM^Y, Greeting. 
 
 ' Most Serene Prince, our dearest Friend, 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England 
 : lias received your letters dated from Florence, August 
 ! 17, concerning- the restitution of a certain ship laden 
 ; with rice, which ship is claimed by captain Cardi of 
 ! Leghorn. And though the judges of our admiralty 
 have already pronounced sentence in that cause against 
 the aforesaid Cardi, and that there be an appeal de- 
 pending before the delegates ; yet upon your high- 
 ness's request, the parliament, to testify how much 
 they value the goodwill and alliance of a prince so 
 much their friend, have given order to those who are 
 entrusted with this affair, that the said ship, together 
 with the rice, or at least the full price of it, be re- 
 stored to the aforesaid captain Cardi ; the fruit of which 
 command his proctor here has effectually already reap- 
 ed. And as your highness by favourably affording your 
 patronage and protection to the ships of the English in ' 
 your port of Leghorn, has in a more especial manner 
 tied the parliament to your serenity ; so will they, on 
 the other side, take care, as often as opportunity offers? 
 that all their offices of sincere friendship and good- 
 will towards your highness may be solidly effectual 
 and permanent ; withal recommending your high- 
 ness to the divine benignity, and protection of the 
 Almighty. 
 
 Sealed with the Seal of the Com- 
 Westmittster, monwealth, and subscribed, 
 
 Nov. 1652. Speaker, &c. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, 
 to the most Serene and Potent Prince, King of Den- 
 mark, Sfc. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England 
 have received information from their admiral of that 
 fleet so lately sent to Copenhagen, your majesty's port, 
 to convoy our merchants homeward bound, that the 
 foresaid ships are not permitted to return along with 
 him, as being detained by your majesty's command ; 
 and upon his producing your royal letters, declaring 
 your justifications of the matter of fact, the parliament 
 denies, that the reasons laid down in those letters for 
 the detaining of those ships are any way satisfactory 
 to them. Therefore that some speedy remedy may be 
 applied in a matter of so great moment, and so highly 
 conducing to the prosperity of both nations, for pre- 
 venting a greater perhaps ensuing mischief, the par- 
 liament have sent their resident at Hambrough, Richard 
 Bradshaw, esquire, a person of great worth and known 
 fidelity, with express commands to treat with your 
 majesty, as their agent also in Denmark, concerning 
 this affair : and therefore we entreat your majesty, to 
 give him a favourable audience and ample credit in 
 whatever he shall propose to your majesty, on our 
 
 behalf, in reference to this matter ; in the mean time 
 recommending your majesty to the protection of Di- 
 vine Providence. 
 
 Under the Seal of the Parliament, 
 Westminster, and in their Name, and by their 
 
 Nov. 6, 1652. Authority, subscribed, Speaker, 
 
 &c. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, 
 to the most Serene Prince, the Duke of Venice, 
 Greeting. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England 
 has received your highness's letters, dated June 1, 1652, 
 and delivered by Lorenzo Pallutio, wherein they not 
 only gladly perceive both yours, and the cordial in- 
 clination of the senate towards this republic, but have 
 willingly laid hold of this opportunity to declare their 
 singular affection and goodwill towards the most Serene 
 Republic of Venice; which they shall be always ready 
 to make manifest both really and sincerely, as often as 
 opportunity offers. To whom also all the ways and 
 means, that shall be propounded to them for the pre- 
 serving or increasing mutual friendship and alliance, 
 shall be ever most acceptable. In the mean time we 
 heartily pray, that all things prosperous, all things 
 favoural)le, may befall your highness and the most 
 serene Republic. 
 
 Sealed with the Parliament 
 Westminster, Seal, and subscribed, 
 
 Dec. 1652. Speaker, &c. 
 
 The Parliament of the Republic of England, to the 
 most Serene Prince, Ferdinand the Second, Grand 
 Duke o/ Tuscany, Greeting. 
 
 Although the parliament of the republic of Eng- 
 land some time since redoubled their commands to all 
 the chief captains and masters of ships amving in the 
 ports belonging to your highness, to carry themselves 
 peacefully and civilly, and with becoming observance 
 and duty to a most serene prince, whose friendship 
 this republic so earnestly endeavours to preserve, as 
 having been obliged by so many great kindnesses; an 
 accident altogether unexpected has fallen out, through 
 the insolence, as they hear, of captain Appleton, in the 
 port of Leghorn, who offered violence to the sentinel 
 then doing his duty upon the mole, against the faith 
 and duty which he owes this republic, and in contempt 
 of the reverence and honour which is justly owing to 
 your highness: the relation of which action, as it was 
 really committed, the parliament has understood by 
 your letters of the seventh and ninth of December, 
 dated from Florence ; as also more at large by the 
 most worthy Almeric Salvetti, your resident here. And 
 they have so sincerely laid to heart your highness's 
 honour, which is the main concern of this complaint, 
 that they have referred it to the Council of State, to 
 take care that letters be sent to capt. Appleton, to come 
 away without stop or stay by land, in order to his giv- 
 ing an account of this unwonted and extraordinary act, 
 
600 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 (a copy of which letters is sent herewith enclosed,) who 
 so soon as he shall arrive, and be accused of the fact, 
 we promise, that such a course shall be taken with 
 him,as maj sufficiently testify that we no less heinously 
 brook the violation of your rig'ht than the infringement 
 of our own authority. Moreover, upon mature debate 
 concerning the recovered ship, called the Phoenix of 
 Leghorn, which affair is also related and pressed by 
 your highness and your resident here, to have been 
 done by captain Appleton, contrary to promise given, 
 "whereby he was obliged not to fall upon even the Hol- 
 landers themselves within sight of the lantern ; and 
 that 3'our highness, trusting to that faith, promised 
 security to the Hollanders upon your word ; and there- 
 fore that we ought to take care for the satisfaction of 
 those, who suffer damage under the protection of your 
 promise ; the parliament begs of your excellency to be 
 assured, that this fact, as it was committed without their 
 advice or command, so it is most remote from their 
 will and intention, that your highness should undergo 
 any detriment or diminution of your honour by it. 
 Rather they will make it their business, that some ex- 
 pedient may be found out for your satisfaction, accord- 
 ing to the nature of the fact, upon examination of the 
 whole matter. Which that they may so much the 
 more fully understand, they deem it necessary, that 
 captain Appleton himself should be heard, who was 
 bound by the same faith, and is thought by your ex- 
 cellency at least to have consented to the violation of 
 it; especially since he is so suddenly to return home. 
 And so soon as the parliament has heard him, and 
 have more at large conferred with your resident con- 
 cerning this matter of no small moment, they will pro- 
 nounce that sentence that shall be just, and consenta- 
 neous to that extreme goodwill, which they bear to 
 your highness, and no way unworthy the favours by 
 you conferred upon them. Of which that your high- 
 ness might not make the least question in the mean 
 time, we were willing to certify your highness by this 
 express on purpose sent, that we shall omit no oppor- 
 tunity, to testify bow greatly we value your friend- 
 ship. 
 
 Westminster, Sealed with the Parliament Seal, 
 
 Dec. 14, 1652. and subscribed. Speaker, 
 
 &c. 
 
 The Council of State of the Republic of England, to 
 the most Serene Prince, Frederick, Heir of Nor- 
 way, Duke of Sleswick, Holsatia, Stormaria, 
 Ditmarsh, Count in Oldenbukgh and Delmen- 
 HORST, Greeting. 
 
 Though it has pleased the most wise God, and most 
 merciful Moderator of all things, besides the burden 
 which he laid upon us in common with our ancestors, 
 to wage most just wars in defence of our liberty against 
 tyrannical usurpation, signally also to succour us with 
 those auspices and that divine assistance, beyond what 
 he afforded to our predecessors, that we have been able 
 not only to extinguish a civil war, but to extirpate the 
 causes of it for the future, as also to repel the unex- 
 
 pected violencesof foreign enemies; nevertheless, with 
 grateful minds, as much as in us lies, acknowledj^iiig 
 the same favour and benignity of the Supreme Deity 
 towards us, we are not so puffed up with the success of 
 our affairs, but that rather instructed in the singular 
 justice and providence of God, and having had long 
 experience of ourselves, we abominate the thoughts of 
 war, if possible to be avoided, and most eagerly em- 
 brace peace with all men. Therefore, as hitherto we 
 never were the first that violated or desired the viola- 
 tion of that friendship, or those ancient privileges of 
 leagues, that have been ratified between us and any 
 princes or people whatever; so your highness, in 
 consideration of your ancient amity with the Englisli, 
 left us by our ancestors, may, with a most certain 
 assurance, promise both yourself and your people all 
 things equitable, and all things friendly from us. 
 Lastly, as we highly value, which is no more than 
 what is just and reasonable, the testimonies of your 
 affection and good offices offered us, so we shall make 
 it our business, that you may not at any time be sen- 
 sible of the want of ours, either to yourself or yours. 
 And so we most heartily recommend your highness to 
 the omnipotent protection of the Almighty God. 
 
 Whitehall, Sealed with the Council Sealj 
 
 July — , 1653. and subscribed, President 
 
 To the Count o/Oldenburgh. 
 
 Most Illustrious Lord, 
 The parliament of the commonwealth of Englanj 
 have received an extraordinary congratulation fron 
 your excellency, most kindly and courteously delivere* 
 to us by word of mouth by Herman Mylius, youi 
 counsellor and doctor of laws : who wished all thingi 
 lucky and prosperous, in your name, to the parliamenl 
 and English interest, and desired that the friendshi| 
 of this republic might remain inviolable within youi 
 territories. He also desired letters of safe conduct, t< 
 the end your subjects may the more securely trade ani 
 sail from place to place ; together w ith our orders to 
 our public ministers abroad, to be aiding and assisting 
 to your excellency and your interests with their good 
 offices and counsels. To which requests of his w« 
 willingly consented, and granted both our friendshipj 
 the letters desired, and our orders to our public minis 
 ters under the seal of the parliament. And though if 
 be some months ago since your public minister first 
 came to us, however that delay neither arose from any 
 unwillingness on our part to assent to the request madej 
 in your excellency's name, or that your deputy was at 
 any time wanting in his sedulity, (whose solicitation! 
 were daily and earnest with all the diligence and im4 
 portunity that became him, to the end he might 
 dispatched,) but only it happened so, that at that tim| 
 the greatest and most weighty affairs of the republic 
 were under debate and serious negotiation. Of which j 
 we thought meet to certify your illustrious lordship, 
 lest any body, through a false construction of this de- 
 lay, should think those favours unwillingly or hardly 
 obtained, which were most gladly granted by the par- 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 601 
 
 liament of the commonwealth of England. In whose 
 name these arc commanded to be signed. 
 
 Henry Scobel, clerk of the parliament. 
 
 To the most Illustrious and Noble Senators, Scvltets, 
 Landam, and Senators of the Evangelic Cantons 
 of Switzerland, Zurick, Bern, Claris, Bale, 
 ScHAFFHUSEN, AppENZEL, also the Confederates of 
 the same Religion in the countri/ of the Orisons, of 
 Geneva, St. Gall, Malhausen, and Bienne, our 
 dearest friends ; 
 
 Your letters, most illustrious lords and dearest con- 
 feilerates, dated December twenty-four, full of civility, 
 goodwill, and singular affection towards us and our 
 republic, and what ought always to be greater and 
 more sacred to us, breathing fraternal and truly chris- 
 tian charity, we have received. And in the first place, 
 we return thanks to Almighty God, who has raised 
 and established both you and so many noble cities, not 
 so much intrenched and fortified with those enclosures 
 of mountains, as with your innate fortitude, piety, most 
 prudent and just administration of government, and 
 the faith of mutual confederacies, to be a firm and in- 
 accessible shelter for all the truly orthodox. Now then 
 that you who over all Europe were the first of mortals, 
 who after deluges of barbarous tyrants from the north. 
 Heaven prospering your valour, recovered your liberty, 
 and being obtained, for so many years have preserved 
 it untainted, with no less prudence and moderation ; 
 that you should have such noble sentiments of our 
 liberty recovered ; that you, such sincere worshippers 
 of the gospel, should be so constantly persuaded of our 
 love and affection for the orthodox faith, is that which 
 is most acceptable and welcome to us. But as to your 
 exhorting us to peace, with a pious and affectionate 
 intent, as we are fully assured, certainly such an ad- 
 monition ought to be of great weight with us, as well 
 in respect of the thing itself which you persuade, and 
 which of all things is chiefly to be desired, as also for 
 tlie great autljority, which is to be allowed your lord- 
 ships above others in this particular, who in the midst 
 of loud tumultuous wars on every side enjoy the sweets 
 of peace both at home and abroad, and have approved 
 yourselves the best example to all others of embracing 
 and improving peace ; and lastly, for that you per- 
 suade us to the very thing, which we ourselves of our 
 own accords, and that more than once, consulting as 
 well our own, as the interest of the whole evangelical 
 communion, have begged by embassadors, and other 
 public ministers, namely, friendship and a most strict 
 league with the United Provinces. But how they 
 treated our embassadors sent to them to negotiate, not 
 a bare peace, but a brotherly amity and most strict 
 league; what provocations to war they afterwards gave 
 us ; how they fell upon us in our own roads, in the 
 midst of their embassador's negotiations for peace and 
 allegiance, little dreaming any such violence; you 
 will abundantly understand by our declaration set 
 forth upon this subject, and sent you together with 
 these our letters. But as for our parts, we are wholly 
 
 intent upon this, by God's assistance, though prosjier- 
 ous hitherto, so to carry ourselves, that we may neither 
 attribute any thing to our own strength or forces, but 
 all things to God alone, nor be insolently puffed up 
 with our success ; and we still retain the same ready 
 inclinations to embrace all occasions of making a just 
 and honest peace. In the mean time yourselves, illus- 
 trious and most excellent lords, in whom this noble and 
 pious sedulity, out of mere evangelical affection, exerts 
 itself to reconcile and pacify contending brethren, as 
 ye are worthy of all applause among men, so doubtless 
 will ye obtain the celestial reward of peace-makers 
 with God ; to whose supreme benignity and favour, we 
 heartily recommend in our prayers both you and yours, 
 no less ready to make returns of all good offices both 
 of friends and brethren, if in any thing we may be 
 serviceable to your lordships. 
 
 Westminster, Sealed with the Parliament Seal, 
 
 Octob. 1653. and subscribed. Speaker, &c. 
 
 To the Spanish Embassador. 
 
 Most Illustrious Lord, 
 Upon grievous complaints brought before us by 
 Philip Noel, John Godal, and the society of merchants 
 of Foy in England, that a certain ship of theirs called 
 the Ann of Foy, an English ship by them fitted out, 
 and laden with their own goods, in her return home to 
 the port of Foy about Michaelmas last, was unjustly 
 and without any cause set upon and taken by a certain 
 privateer of Ostend, Erasmus Bruer commander, and 
 the seamen unworthily and barbarously used : the 
 council of state wrote to the marquis of Leda concern- 
 ing it, (a copy of which letter we also send enclosed 
 to your excellency,) and expected from him, that with- 
 out delay orders would have been given for the doing 
 of justice in this matter. Nevertheless after all this, 
 the foresaid Noel, together with the said company, 
 make further heavy complaint, that although our 
 letters were delivered to the marquis, and that those 
 merchants from that time forward betook themselves to 
 Bruges to the court there held for maritime causes, 
 and there asserted and proved their right, and the 
 verity of their cause, yet that justice was denied them ; 
 and that they were so hardly dealt with, that, though 
 the cause had been ripe for trial above three months, 
 nevertheless they could obtain no sentence from that 
 court, but that their ship and goods are still detained, 
 notwithstanding the great expenses they have been at 
 in prosecuting their claim. Now your excellency well 
 knows it to be contrary to the law of nations, of traffic, 
 and that friendship which is at present settled between 
 the English and Flemings, that any Ostcnder should 
 take any English vessel, if bound for England with 
 English goods ; and that whatever was inhumanly 
 and barbarously done to the English seamen by that 
 commander, deserves a rigorous punishment. The 
 council therefore recommends the whole matter to your 
 excellency, and makes it their request, that you would 
 write into Flanders concerning it, and take such speedy 
 care, that this business may no longer be delayed, but 
 
602 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 that justice may be done in such a manner that the 
 foresaid ship, togetlier with the damag-es, costs, and 
 interest, which the Eng-lish have sustained and been 
 out of purse, by reason of that illegal seizure, may be 
 restored ajid made good to them by the authority of 
 the court, or in some other way; and that care be 
 taken, that hereafter no such violence be committed, 
 but that the amity between our people and the Flem- 
 ings may be preserved without any infringement. 
 
 Signed in the name, and by the command 
 of the council of state, appointed by 
 authority of parliament. 
 
 To the Marquis of Leda. 
 
 Great complaints are brought before us by Philip 
 Noel, John Godal, and the company of Foy merchants, 
 concerning a ship of theirs, called the Ann of Foy, 
 •which being an English vessel by them fitted out, and 
 laden with tljeir own goods, in her return home to her 
 own port about Michaelmas last, was taken unawares 
 by a freebooter of Ostend, Erasmus Bruer commander. 
 It is also further related, that the Ostenders, when the 
 ship was in their power, used the seamen too inhu- 
 manly, by setting lighted match to their fingers, and 
 plunging the master of the ship in the sea till they 
 almost drowned him, on purpose to extort a false con- 
 fession from him, that the ship and goods belonged to 
 the French. Which though the master and the rest 
 of the ship's crew resolutely denied, nevertheless the 
 Ostenders carried away the ship and goods to their 
 own port. These things, upon strict inquiry and ex- 
 amination of witnesses, have been made manifest in 
 the admiralty court in England, as will appear by the 
 copies of the affidavits herewith sent your lordship. 
 Now in regard that that same ship, called the Ann of 
 Foy, and all her lading of merchandise and goods, 
 belong truly and properly to English, so that there is no 
 apparent reason why the Ostender should seize by force 
 either the one or the other, much less carry away the 
 master of the ship, and use the seamen so unmer- 
 cifully : and whereas according to the law of nations, 
 and in respect of the friendship between the Flemings 
 and the English, that ship and goods ought to be re- 
 stored : we make it our earnest request to your excel- 
 lency, that the English may have speedy justice done, 
 and that satisfaction may be given for their losses, to 
 the end the traffic and friendship, which is between 
 the English and Flemings, may be long and inviolably 
 preserved. 
 
 To the Spanish Embassador. 
 
 The parliament of the commonwealth of England, 
 understanding that several of the people of this city 
 daily resort to the house of your excellency, and other 
 embassadors and public ministers from foreign nations 
 here residing, merely to hear mass, gave order to the 
 council of state, to let your excellency understand, that 
 whereas such resort is prohibited by the laws of the 
 nation, and of very evil example in this our republic. 
 
 and extremely scandalous ; that they deem it their 
 duty to take care that no such thing be permitted 
 henceforward, and to prohibit all such assemblies for 
 the future. Concerning which, it is our desire, that 
 your excellency should have a fair advertisement, to 
 the end that henceforth your excellency may be more 
 careful of admitting any of the people of this republic 
 to hear mass in your house. And as the parliament 
 will diligently provide that your excellency's rights 
 and privileges shall be preserved inviolable, so they 
 persuade themselves, that your excellency during your 
 abode here, would by no means, that the laws of 
 this republic should be violated by yourself or your 
 attendants. 
 
 A Stimmary of the particular real Damages sustained 
 by the English Company, in many places of the 
 East-Indies, from the Dutch Company in Hol- 
 land. 
 
 1. The damages comprehended in the sixteen ar- 
 ticles, and formerly exhibited, amounting to 298,555 
 royals |, of which is of our money 74,6158/. 15s. OOdf. 
 
 2. We demand satisfaction to be given for the in- 
 comes of the island of Pularon, from the year sixteen 
 hundred and twenty-two, to this time, of two hundred 
 thousand royals ^, besides the future expense, till the 
 right of jurisdiction over that island be restored in the 
 same condition, as when it was wrested out of our 
 hands, as was by league agreed to, amounting of our 
 money to 50,000/. 00s. OOd. 
 
 3. We demand satisfaction for all the merchandise, 
 provision, and furniture taken away by the agents of 
 the Dutch company in the Indies, or to them deliver- 
 ed, or to any of their ships bound thither, or returning 
 home ; which sum amounts to 80,635 royals, of our 
 money 20,158/. 00s. OOrf. 
 
 4. We demand satisfaction for the customs of Dutch 
 merchandise laden on board their ships in Persia, or 
 landed there from the year sixteen hundred and 
 twenty-four, as was granted us by the King of Persia, 
 which we cannot value at less than fourscore thousand 
 royals 20,000/. 00s. OOrf. 
 
 5. We demand satisfaction for four houses maliciously 
 and unjustly burnt at Jocatra, together with the ware- 
 houses, magazines, and furniture, occasioned by the 
 Dutch governor there, of all which we have informa- 
 tion from the place itself, after we had exhibited our 
 first complaints: the total of which damage we value 
 at 50,000/. OOs. OOrf. 
 
 Wc demand satisfaction for thirty-two thousand 
 eight hundred and ninety-nine pound of pepper, 
 taken out of the ship Endymion in sixteen hundred 
 and forty-nine, the total of which damage amounts 
 to 6,000/. OOs. OOrf. 
 
 220,796/. 15s. OOrf. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 603 
 
 A Summary of some particular Damages sustained also 
 from the Dutch East -India Company. 
 
 1. For damages sustained by those who besieged 
 Bantam, whence it came to pass, that for six years to- 
 gether we were excluded from that trade, and conse- 
 quently from an opportunity of laying out in pepper 
 six hundred thousand royals, with which we might have 
 
 ' laden our homeward-bound ships ; for want of which 
 lading they rotted upon the coast of India. In the mean 
 time our stock in India was wasted and consumed in 
 mariners' wages, provision, and other furniture ; so that 
 they could not value their loss at less than twenty hun- 
 dred and four thousand royals . 600,000/. 00*. OOrf. 
 
 2. More for damages by reason of our due part lost 
 of the fruits in the Molucca islands, Banda and Am- 
 boyna, from the time that by the slaughter of our men 
 we were thence expelled, till the time that we shall be 
 satisfied for our loss and expenses ; which space of time, 
 from the year sixteen hundred and twenty-two, to this 
 present year sixteen hundred and fifty, for the yearly 
 revenue of 250,000 lib. amounts in twenty-eight years 
 to 700,000/. 00«. OOrf. 
 
 3. We demand satisfaction for one hundred and two 
 thousand nine hundred and fifty-nine royals, taken from 
 us by the Mogul's people, whom the Dutch protected 
 in such a manner, that we never could repair our losses 
 out of the money or goods of that people, which lay in 
 their junks, which we endeavoured to do, and was in 
 our power, had not the Dutch unjustly defended them. 
 Which lost money we could have trebled in Europe, 
 and value at .... 77,200/. OO*. OOrf. 
 
 4. For the customs of Persia, the half part of which 
 was by the king of Persia granted to the English, anno 
 sixteen hundred and twenty-four. Which to the year 
 sixteen hundred and twenty-nine, is valued at eight 
 thousand royals ; to which add the four thousand lib. 
 which they are bound to pay since sixteen hundred and 
 twenty-nine, which is now one and twenty years, and 
 it makes up the sum of . . 84,000/. 00s. OOrf. 
 
 From tbe first account 
 
 Sum total 
 
 220,796/. 15«. OOrf. 
 1,081,996/. 15s. OOrf. 
 
 The interest from that time will far exceed tbe 
 principal. 
 
 LETTERS 
 
 IN THE NAME OF OLIVER THE PROTECTOR. 
 
 To the Count o/*Oldenburgh. 
 
 Most Illustrious Lord, 
 By your lettei-s dated January twenty, sixteen hun- 
 dred and fifty-four, I have been given to understand, 
 that the noble Frederic Matthias Wolisog and Chris- 
 topher Griphiander were sent with certain commands 
 from your illustrious lordship into England ; who when 
 they came to us, not only in your name congratulated 
 our having taken upon us the government of the 
 English republic, but also desired, that you and your 
 territories might be comprehended in the peace which 
 we are about to make with the Low Countries, and 
 that we would confirm by our present authority the let- 
 ters of safe conduct lately granted your lordship by 
 the parliament. Therefore in the first place we return 
 your lordship our hearty thanks for your friendly con- 
 gratulation, as it becomes us ; and these will let you 
 know that we have readily granted your two re- 
 quests. Nor shall you find us wanting upon any 
 
 opportunity, which may at any time make manifest 
 our aflTection to your lordship. And this we are apt 
 to believe you will understand more at large from 
 your agents, whose fidelity and diligence in this affair 
 of yours, in our court, has been eminently conspicu- 
 ous. As to what remains, we most heartily wish the 
 blessings of prosperity and peace, both upon you and 
 your affairs. 
 
 Your illustrious lordship's most affectionate, 
 OLIVER, protector of England, Scotland, 
 and Ireland, &c. 
 
 To the Count o/Oldenburgh. 
 
 Most Illustrious Lord, 
 We received your letters, dated May the second, 
 from Oldenburgh, most welcome upon more than one 
 account; as well for that they were full of singular 
 civility and goodwill towards us, as because they were 
 delivered by the hand of the most illustrious count An- 
 thony, your beloved sou ; which we look upon as so 
 
604 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 much the greater honour, as not having' trusted to re- 
 port, but with our own eyes, and by our own observation, 
 discerned bis virtues becoming such an ilhistrious ex- 
 traction, his noble manners and inclinations, and lastly, 
 his extraordinary afTection toward ourselves. Nor is 
 it to be questioned but he displays to his own people 
 the same fair hopes at home, that he will approve him- 
 self the son of a most worthy and most excellent father, 
 whose signal virtue and prudence has all along so ma- 
 naged affairs, that the whole territory of Oldenburgb 
 for many years has enjoyed a profound peace, and all 
 the blessings of tranquillity, in the midst of the raging 
 confusions of war thundering on every side. What 
 reason therefore why we should not value such a 
 friendship, that can so wisely and providentially shun 
 the enmity of all men ? Lastly, most illustrious lord, 
 it is for your magnificent* present that we return you 
 thanks ; but it is of right, and your merits claim, that 
 we are cordially, 
 
 Your illustrious lordship's most affectionate, 
 
 Westminster, OLIVER, &c. 
 
 June 29, 1654. 
 
 Superscribed, To the most Illustrious Lord, Anthony 
 GuNTHER, count in Oldenburgb and Delmenhorst, 
 lord in Jehvem and Kniphausen. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/*England, 
 {Scotland, and Ireland, Sfc., To the most Serene 
 Prince, Charles Gustavus Kinff of the Swedes, 
 Goths, and Vandals, Great Prince of Finland, 
 Duke of EsTHONiA, Carelia, Breme, Verden, 
 Stettin in Pomerania, Cassubia, anrf Vandalia ; 
 Prince of Rugia, Lord of Ingria, Wismaria, as 
 alto Count Palatine of the Rhine, and Duke of 
 Bavaria, Cleves, and Monts, ^c, Greeting. 
 
 Most Serene King, 
 Though it be already divulged over all the world, 
 that the kingdom of the Swedes is translated to your 
 majesty with the extraordinary applause and desires of 
 the people, and the free suffrages of all the orders of 
 the realm ; yet that your majesty should rather choose, 
 that we should understand the welcome news by your 
 most friendly letters, than by the common voice of 
 fame, we thought no small argument both of your 
 goodwill towards us, and of the honour done us among 
 the first. Voluntarily therefore and of right we con- 
 gratulate this accession of dignity to your egregious 
 merits, and the most worthy guerdon of so much virtue. 
 And that it may be lucky and prosperous to your ma- 
 jesty, to the nation of the Swedes, and the true chris- 
 tian interest, which is also what you chiefly wish, with 
 joint supplication we implore of God. And whereas 
 your majesty assures us, that the preserving entire the 
 league and alliance lately concluded between this re- 
 public and the kingdom of Sweden shall be so far your 
 care, that the present amity may not only continue 
 firm and inviolable, but, if possible, every day increase 
 • The hones which threw him out of the coach box. 
 
 1 
 
 and grow to a higher perfection, to call it into question, 
 would be a piece of impiety, after the word of so ;,'reat 
 a prince once interposed, wjjose surpassing fortitude 
 has not only purchased your majesty an hereditarv 
 king«lom in a foreign land, but also could so far pn 
 vail, that the most august queen, the daughter of Gu.s- 
 tavus, and a heroess so matchless in all degrees of 
 praise and masculine renown, that many ages back- 
 ward have not produced her equal, surrendered tin 
 most just possession of her empire to your majesty, 
 neither expecting nor willing to accept it. Now 
 therefore it is our main desire, your majesty should 
 be every way assured, that your so singular affection 
 toward us, and so eminent a signification of your 
 mind, can be no other than most dear and welcome 
 to us ; and that no combat can offer itself to us more 
 glorious, than such a one wherein we may, if pos- 
 sible, prove victorious in outdoing your majesty's 
 civility by our kind offices, that never shall be want- 
 ing. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 OLIVER, protector of the com- 
 Westminster, monwealth of England, Scot- 
 
 July 4, 1654. land, and Ireland, &c. 
 
 To the most Illustrious Lord, Lewis Menoez de 
 Hardo. 
 
 What we have understood by your letters, most il- 
 lustrious lord, that there is an embassador already no- 
 minated and appointed by the most serene king of 
 Spain, on purpose to come and congratulate our hav- 
 ing undertaken the government of the republic, is not 
 only deservedly acceptable of itself, but rendered much 
 more welcome and pleasing to us by your singular 
 affection, and the speed of your civility, as being de- 
 sirous we should understand it first of all from your- 
 self. For, to be so beloved and approved by your lord- 
 ship, who by your virtue and prudence have obtained 
 so great authority with your prince, as to preside, bis 
 equal in mind, over all the most important affairs of 
 that kingdom, ought to be so much the more pleasing 
 to us, as well understanding that the judgment of a sur- 
 passing person cannot but be much to our honour and 
 oniament. Now as to our cordial inclinations toward 
 the king of Spain, and ready propensity to hold friend- 
 ship with that kingdom, and increase it to a stricter 
 perfection, we hope we have already satisfied the pre- 
 sent embassador, and shall more amply satisfy the 
 other so soon as he arrives. As to what remains, most 
 illustrious lord, we heartily wish the dignitj' and fa- 
 vour, wherein you now flourish with your prince, per- 
 petual to your lordship ; and whatever affairs you carry 
 on for the public good, may prosperoQsIy and haj»pily 
 succeed. 
 
 Your illustrious lordship's most affectionate, 
 Whitehall, Sept. 1654. OLIVER, &c. 
 
 1 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 605 
 
 To the most Serene Prince, Charles Gustavus 
 Adolphus, Kiny of the Swedes, Goths, and Van- 
 dals, ifc. 
 
 Being so well assured of your majesty's g'oodwill to- 
 wards me by your last letters, in answer to which I 
 wrote back with the same affection, mcthinks I should 
 do no more than what our mutual amity requires, if 
 as I communicate my grateful tiding to reciprocal 
 joy, so when contrary accidents fall out, that I should 
 lay open the sense and grief of my mind to your ma- 
 jesty, as my dearest friend. For my part, this is my 
 opinion of myself, that T am now advanced to this de- 
 gree in the commonwealth, to the end I should consult 
 in the first place and as much as in me lies, for the 
 common peace of the protestants. Which is the reason, 
 that of necessity it behoves me more grievously to lay 
 to heart what we are sorry to hear concerning the 
 bloody conflicts and mutual slaug'hters of the Breme- 
 ners and Swedes. But this f chiefly bewail, that being 
 both our friends, they should so despitefully combat 
 one ag'ainst another, and with so much danger to the 
 interests of the protestants ; and that the peace of Mun- 
 ster, which it was thought would have proved an asy- 
 lum and safeguard to all the protestants, should be the 
 occasion of such an unfortunate war, that now the arms 
 of the Swedes are turned upon those, whom but a little 
 before, among the rest, they most stoutly defended for 
 religion's sake ; and that this should be done more 
 especially at this time, when the papists are said to 
 persecute the reformed all over Germany, and to return 
 to their intermitted for some time oppressions, and 
 their pristine violences. Hearing therefore, that a 
 truce for some days was made at Bremc, I could not for- 
 bear signifying to your majesty, upon this opportunity 
 offered, how cordially I desire, and how earnestly I 
 implore the God of peace, that this truce may prove 
 successfully happy for the good of both parties, and 
 that it may conclude in a most firm peace, by a 
 commodious accommodation on both sides. To which 
 purpose, ifyourmajcsty judges that my assistance may 
 any ways conduce, I most willingly offer and promise 
 it, as in a thing, without question, most acceptable to 
 the most holy God. In the mean time, from the bot- 
 tom of my heart, I beseech the Almighty to direct and 
 govern all your counsels for the common welfare of 
 the christian interest, which I make no doubt but that 
 your majesty chiefly desires. 
 
 Whitehall, Your majesty's most afTectionate, 
 Octob. 26, 1654. OLIVER, &c. 
 
 To the Magnificent and most Nohle, the Consuls and 
 Senators of the City of Breme. 
 
 By your lettei-s delivered to us by your resident 
 Henry Oldenburgh, that there is a difference kindled 
 between your city and a most potent neighbour, and 
 to what straits you are thereby reduced, with so much 
 the more trouble and grief we understand, by how 
 much the more we love and embrace the city of Breme, 
 
 so eminent above others for their profession of the or- 
 thodox faith. Neither is there any thing which we 
 account more sacred in our wishes, than that the whole 
 protestant name would knit and grow together in bro- 
 therly unity and concord. In the mean time, most 
 certain it is, that the common enemy {»f the reformed 
 rejoices at these our dissensions, and more haughtily 
 every where exerts his fury. But in regard the con- 
 troversy, which at present exercises j'our contending 
 arms, is not within the power of our decision, we im- 
 plore the Almighty God, that the truce begun may ob- 
 tain a happy issue. Assuredly, as to what you desired, 
 we have written to the king of the Swedes, exhorting 
 him to peace and agreement, as being most chiefly 
 grateful to Heaven, and have offered our assistance in 
 so pious a work. On the other side, we likewise ex- 
 hort yourselves to bear an equal mind, and by no means 
 to refuse any honest conditions of reconciliation. And 
 so we recommend your city to Divine Protection and 
 Providence. 
 
 Your lordship's most affectionate, 
 Whitehall, OLIVER, protector of the common- 
 
 Oct. 26, 1654. wealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Republic of England, to the 
 most Illustrious Prince o/'Tarentum. 
 
 Your love of religion apparently made known in 
 your letters to us delivered, and your excelling piety 
 and singular affection to the reformed churches, more 
 especially considering the nobility and splendour of 
 your character, and in a kingdom too, wherein there 
 are so many and such abounding hopes proposed to all 
 of eminent quality that revolt from the orthodox faith, 
 so many miseries to be undergone by the resolute and 
 constant, gave us an occasion of great joy and conso- 
 lation of mind. Nor was it less grateful to us, that we 
 had gained your good opinion, upon the same account 
 of religion, which ought to render your highness most 
 chiefly beloved and dear to ourselves. We call God 
 to witness, that whatever hopes or expectations the 
 churches according to your relation had of us, we may 
 be able one day to give them satisfaction, if need re- 
 quire, or at least to demonstrate to all men, how mucli it 
 is our desire never to fail them. Nor should we think 
 any fruit of our labours, or of this dignity or supreme 
 employment which we hold in our republic, greater 
 than that we might be in a condition to be serviceable 
 to the enlargement, or the welfare, or which is more 
 sacred, to the peace of the reformed church. In the 
 mean time, we exhort and beseech your lordship, 
 to remain stedfast to the last minute in the orthodox 
 religion, with the same resolution and constancy, as 
 you profess it received from your ancestors with piety 
 and zeal. Nor indeed can there be any thing more 
 worthy yourself, or your religious parents, nor in con- 
 sideration of what you have deserved of us, though we 
 wish all things for your own sake, that we can 
 wish more noble or advantageous to your lordsliip, 
 than that you would take such methods, and apply 
 yourself to such studies, that the churches, especially 
 
606 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 of your native country, under the discipline of which 
 your birth and genius have rendered you illustriously 
 happy, may be sensible of so much the more assured 
 security in your protection, by how much you excel 
 others in lustre and ability. 
 Whitehall, April — , 1654. 
 
 Oliver, the Protector, ^c. To the most Serene Prince, 
 Immanuel Duhe of SAVoy, Prince of Piemont, 
 Greeting. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, 
 Letters have been sent us from Geneva, as also 
 from the Pauphinate, and many other places bordering 
 upon your territories, wherein we are given to under- 
 stand, that such of 3'our royal highness's subjects, as 
 profess the reformed religion, are commanded by your 
 edict, and by your authority, within three days after 
 the promulgation of your edict, to depart their native 
 seats and habitations, upon pain of capital punishment, 
 and forfeiture of all their fortunes and estates, unless 
 they will give security to relinquish their religion 
 within twenty days, and embrace the Roman catholic 
 faith. And that when they applied themselves to 
 your royal highness in a most suppliant manner, 
 imploring a revocation of the said edict, and that 
 being received into pristine favour, they might be 
 restored to the liberty granted them by your predeces- 
 sors, a part of your army fell upon them, most cruelly 
 slew several, put others in chains, and compelled the 
 rest to fly into desert places, and to the mountains 
 covered with snow, where some hundreds of fami- 
 lies are reduced to such distress, that it is greatly 
 to be feared, they will in a short time all miserably 
 perish through cold and hunger. These things, when 
 they were related to us, we could not choose but 
 be touched with extreme grief and compassion for 
 the sufferings and calamities of this afflicted people. 
 Now in regard we must acknowledge ourselves 
 linked together not only by the same tie of hu- 
 manity, but by joint communion of the same religion, 
 we thought it impossible for us to satisfy our duty to 
 God, to brotherly charity, or our profession of the same 
 religion, if we should only be affected with a bare sor- 
 row for the misery and calamity of our brethren, and 
 not contribute all our endeavours, to relieve and suc- 
 cour them in their unexpected adversity, as much as in 
 us lies. Therefore in a great measure we most earn- 
 estly beseech and conjure your royal highness, that 
 you would call back to your thoughts the moderation 
 of your most serene predecessors, and the liberty by 
 them granted and confirmed from time to time to their 
 subjects the Vaudois. In granting and confirming 
 which, as they did that which without all question was 
 most grateful to God, who has been pleased to reserve 
 the jurisdiction and power over the conscience to him- 
 self alone, so there is no doubt, but that they had a due 
 consideration of their subjects also, whom they found 
 stout and most faithful in war, and always obedient in 
 peace. And as your royal serenity in other things 
 most laudably follows the footsteps of your immortal 
 
 ancestors, so we again and again beseech your royal 
 highness, not to swerve from the path wherein they 
 trod in this particular; but that you would vouciisafe 
 to abrogate both this edict, and whatsoever else may 
 be decreed to the disturbance of your subjects upon the 
 account of the reformed religion ; that you would ratify 
 to them their conceded privileges and pristine liberty, 
 and command their losses to be repaired, and that an 
 end be put to their oppressions. Which if your royal 
 highness shall be pleased to see performed, you will do 
 a thing most acceptable to God, revive and comfort the 
 miserable in dire calamity, and most highly oblige all 
 your neighbours, that profess the reformed religion, 
 but more especially ourselves, who shall be bound to 
 look upon your clemency and benignity toward j'our 
 subjects as the fruit of our earnest solicitation. Which 
 will both engage us to a reciprocal return of all good 
 offices, and lay the solid foundations not only of esta- 
 blishing, but increasing, alliance and friendship be- 
 tween this republic and your dominions. Nor do we 
 less promise this to ourselves from your justice and 
 moderation; to which we beseech Almighty God to 
 incline your mind and thoughts. And so we cordially 
 implore just Heaven to bestow upon your highness and 
 your people the blessings of peace and truth, and pros- 
 perous success in all your affairs. 
 Whitehall, May —, 1655. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Republic q/" England, to the 
 most Serene Pn'ncc ©/"Transilvania, Greeting. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, 
 By your letters of the sixteenth of November, sixteen 
 hundred and fifty-four, you have made us sensible of 
 your singular goodwill and affection towards us ; and 
 your envoy, who delivered those letters to us, more 
 amply declared your desire of contracting alliance and 
 friendship with us. Certainly for our parts we do not 
 a little rejoice at this opportunity offered us, to declare 
 and make manifest our affection to your highness, and 
 how great a value we justly set upon your person. But 
 after fame had reported to us your egregious merits 
 and labours undertaken in behalf of the christian re- 
 public, when you were pleased that all these things, 
 and what you have farther in your thoughts to do in 
 the defence and for promoting the christian interest, 
 should be in friendly manner imparted to us by letters 
 from yourself, this afforded us a more plentiful occa- 
 sion of joy and satisfaction, to hear that God, in those 
 remoter regions, had raised up to himself so potent and 
 renowned a minister of his glory and providence : and 
 that this great minister of heaven, so famed for his 
 courage and success, should be desirous to associate 
 with us in the common defence of the protcstant re- 
 ligion, at this time wickedly assailed by words and 
 deeds. Nor is it to be questioned but that God, who 
 has infused into us both, though separated by such a 
 spacious interval of many climates, the same desires 
 and thoughts of defending the orthodox religion, will 
 be our instructor and author of the ways and means 
 whereby we may be assistant and useful to ourselves 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 607 
 
 and the rest of the reformed cities ; provided we watch 
 all opportunities, that God shall put into our hands, 
 and be not wanting' to lay hold of them. In the mean 
 time we cannot without an extreme and penetrating 
 sorrow forbear putting your highness in mind, how 
 unmercifully the duke of Savoy has persecuted his own 
 subjects, professing the orthodox faith, in certain val- 
 leys, at the feet of the Alps : whom he has not only 
 constrained by a most severe edict, as many as refuse 
 to embrace the catholic religion, to forsake their native 
 habitations, goods, and estates, but has fallen upon 
 them with his army, put several most cruelly to the 
 sword, others more barbarously tormented to death, 
 and driven the greatest number to the mountains, there 
 to be consumed with cold and hunger, exposing their 
 houses to the fury, and their goods to the plunder, of 
 his executioners. These things, as they have already 
 been related to your highness, so we readily assure 
 ourselves, that so much cruelty cannot but be griev- 
 ously displeasing to your ears, and that you will not be 
 wanting to afford your aid and succour to those miser- 
 able wretches, if there be any that survive so many 
 slaughters and calamities. For our parts, we have 
 written to the duke of Savoy, beseeching him to re- 
 move his incensed anger from his subjects ; as also to 
 the king of France, that he would vouchsafe to do the 
 same ; and lastly, to the princes of the reformed re- 
 ligion, to the end they might understand our sentiments 
 concerning so fell and savage a piece of cruelty. 
 Which, though first begun upon those poor and help- 
 less people, however threatens all that profess the same 
 religion, and therefore imposes upon all a greater ne- 
 cessity of providing for themselves in general, and 
 consulting the common safety ; which is the course 
 that we shall always follow, as God shall be pleased to 
 direct us. Of whicb your highness may be assured, 
 as also of our sincerity and affection to your serenity, 
 whereby we are engaged to wish all prosperous success 
 to your affiiirs, and a happy issue of all your enter- 
 prises and endeavoure, in asserting the liberty of the 
 gospel, and the worshippers of it. 
 Whitehall, May — , 1655. 
 
 Oliver, Profecfor, to the most Serene Prince, Charles 
 G V ST Av V s Adolpuvs, King of the Swedes, Greeting. 
 
 We make no question, but that the fame of that most 
 rigid edict has reached your dominions, whereby the 
 duke of Savoy has totally ruined his protestant subjects 
 inhabiting the Alpine valleys, and commanded them 
 to be exterminated from their native seats and habita- 
 tions, unless they will give security to renounce their 
 religion received from their forefathers, in exchange 
 for the Roman catholic superstition, and that within 
 twenty days at farthest : so that many being killed, 
 the rest stripped to their skins, and exposed to most 
 certain destruction, are now forced to wander over de- 
 sert mountains, and through perpetual winter, together 
 with their wives and children, half dead with cold and 
 hunger: and that your majesty has laid it to heart, 
 with a pious sorrow and compassionate consideration, 
 
 we as little doubt. For that the protestant name and 
 cause, although they diflfer among themselves in some 
 things of little consequence, is nevertheless the same 
 in general, and united in one common interest ; the 
 hatred of our adversaries, alike incensed against pro- 
 testants, very easily demonstrates. Now there is no- 
 body can be ignorant, that the kings of the Swedes 
 have always joined with the reformed, carrying their 
 victorious arms into Germany in defence of the protest- 
 ants without distinction. Therefore we make it our 
 chief request, and that in a more especial manner to 
 your majesty, that you would solicit the duke of Savoy 
 by letters; and, by interposing your intermediating 
 authority, endeavour to avert the horrid cruelty of this 
 edict, if possible, from people no less innocent than 
 religious. For we think it superfluous to admonish 
 your majesty whither these rigorous beginnings tend, 
 and what they threaten to all the protestants in gene- 
 ral. But if he rather choose to listen to bis anger, 
 than to our joint entreaties and intercessions ; if there 
 be any tie, any charity or communion of religion to be 
 believed and worshipped, upon consultations duly first 
 communicated to your majesty, and the chief of the 
 protestant princes, some other course is to be speedily 
 taken, that such a numerous multitude of our innocent 
 brethren may not miserably perish for want of succour 
 and assistance. Which, in regard we make no question 
 but that it is your majesty's opinion and determination, 
 there can be nothing in our o])inion more prudently 
 resolved, than to join our reputation, authority, coun- 
 sels, forces, and whatever else is needful, with all the 
 speed that may be, in pursuance of so pious a design. 
 In the mean time, we beseech Almighty God to bless 
 your majesty. 
 
 OtivER, Protector, i^'c. to the High and Mighty Lords^ 
 the States of the United Provinces. 
 
 We make no question, but that you have already 
 been informed of the duke of Savoy's edict, set forth 
 against his subjects inhabiting the valleys at the feet 
 of the Alps, ancient professors of the orthodox faith ; 
 by which edict, they are commanded to abandon their 
 native habitations, stripped of all their fortunes, unless 
 within twenty days they embrace the Roman faith ; 
 and with what cruelty the authority of this edict has 
 raged against a needy and harmless people, many being 
 slain by the soldiei*s, the rest plundered and driven 
 from their houses, together with their wives and chil- 
 dren, to combat cold and hunger among desert moun- 
 tains, and perpetual snow. These things with what 
 commotion of mind you heard related, what a fellow- 
 feeling of the calamities of brethren pierced your 
 breasts, we readily conjectured from the depth of our 
 own sorrow, which certainly is most heavy and afflict- 
 ive. For being engaged together by the same tie of 
 religion, no wonder we should be so deeply moved 
 with the same affections upon the dreadful and unde- 
 served sufferings of our brethren. Besides, that your 
 conspicuous piety and charity toward the orthodox, 
 wherever overborn and oppressed, has been frequently 
 
608 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 experienced in the most urging straits and calamities 
 of the churches. For my own part, unless my thoughts 
 deceive me, there is nothing wherein I should desire 
 more willingly to be overcome, than in goodwill and 
 charity toward brethren of the same religion, afflicted 
 and wronged in their quiet enjoyments ; as being one 
 that would be accounted always ready to prefer the 
 peace and safety of the churches before my particular 
 interests. So far therefore as hitherto lay in our power, 
 we have written to the duke of Savoy, even almost to 
 supplication, beseeching him, that he would admit 
 into his breast more placid thoughts and kinder effects 
 of his favour toward his most innocent subjects and 
 suppliants ; that he would restore the miserable to their 
 habitations and estates, and grant them their pristine 
 freedom in the exercise of their religion. Moreover, 
 we wrote to the chiefest princes and magistrates of the 
 protestants, whom we thought most nearly concerned 
 in these matters, that they would lend us their assistance 
 to entreat and pacify the duke of Savoy in their be- 
 half. And we make no doubt now but you have done 
 the same, and perhaps much more. For this so dan- 
 gerous a precedent, and lately renewed severity of ut- 
 most cruelty toward the reformed, if the authors of it 
 meet with prosperous success, to what apparent dangers 
 it reduces our religion, we need not admonish your 
 prudence. On the other side, if the duke shall once 
 but permit himself to be atoned and won by our united 
 applications, not only our afflicted brethren, but we 
 ourselves shall reap the noble and abounding harvest 
 and reward of this laborious undertaking. But if he 
 still persist in the same obstinate resolutions of reducing 
 to utmost extremity those people, (among whom our 
 religion was either disseminated by the first doctors of 
 the gospel, and preserved from the defilement of su- 
 perstition, or else restored to its pristine sincerity long 
 before other nations obtained that felicity,) and deter- 
 mines their utter extirpation and destruction ; we are 
 ready to take such other course and counsels with 
 yourselves, in common with the rest of our reformed 
 friends and confederates, as may be most necessary 
 for the preservation of just and good men, upon the 
 brink of inevitable ruin ; and to make the duke him- 
 self sensible, that we can no longer neglect the heavy 
 oppressions and calamities of our orthodox brethren. 
 Farewel. 
 
 To the Evangelic Cities of Switzerland. 
 
 We make no question, but the late calamity of the 
 Piedmontois, professing our religion, reached your 
 ears before the unwelcome news of it arrived with us: 
 who being a people under the protection and jurisdic- 
 tion of the duke of Savoy, and by a severe edict of their 
 prince commanded to depart their native habitations, 
 unless within three days they gave security to embrace 
 the Roman religion, soon after were assailed by armed 
 violence, that turned their dwellings into slaughter- 
 houses, while others, without number, were terrified 
 into banishment, where now naked and afflicted, with- 
 out house or home, or any covering from the weather. 
 
 \ 
 
 and ready to perish through hunger and cold, they 
 miserably wander thorough desert mountains, and 
 depths of snow, together with their wives and children. 
 And far less reason have we to doubt, but that so soon 
 as they came to your knowledge, you laid these things 
 to heart, with a compassion no less sensible of their 
 multiplied miseries than ourselves ; the more deeply 
 imprinted perhaps in your minds, as being next neigh- 
 bours to the sufferers. Besides, that we have abundant 
 proof of your singular love and affection for the ortho- 
 dox faith, of your constancy in retaining it, and your 
 fortitude in defending it. Seeing then, by the most 
 strict communion of religion, that you, together with 
 ourselves, are all brethren alike, or ratljer one body 
 with those unfortunate people, of which no member 
 can be afflicted without the feeling, without pain, 
 without the detriment and hazard of the rest ; we 
 thought it convenient to write to your lordships con- 
 cerning this matter, and let you understand, how much 
 we believe it to be the general interest of us all, as 
 much as in us lies, with our common aid and succour 
 to relieve our exterminated and indigent brethren ; and 
 not only to take care for removing tlieir miseries and 
 afflictions, but also to provide, that the mischief spread 
 no farther, nor encroach upon ourselves in general, en- 
 couraged by example and success. We have written 
 letters to the duke of Savoy, wherein we have most 
 earnestly besought him, out of his wonted clemency, 
 to deal more gently and mildly with his most faithful 
 subjects, and to restore them, almost ruined as they are, 
 to their goods and habitations. And we are in hopes, 
 that by these our entreaties, or rather by the united in- 
 tercessions of us all, the most serene prince at length will 
 be atoned, and grant what we have requested with so 
 much importunity. But if his mind be obstinately 
 bent to other determinations, we are ready to commu- 
 nicate our consultations with yours, by what most pre- 
 valent means to relieve and re-establisii most innocent 
 men, and our most dearly beloved brethren in Christ, 
 tormented and overlaid with so many wrongs and op- 
 pressions ; and preserve them from inevitable and un- 
 deserved ruin. Of whose welfare and safely, as I am 
 assured, that you, according to your wonted piety, are 
 most cordially tender; so for our own parts, we cannot 
 but in our opinion prefer their preservation before our 
 most important interests, even the safeguard of our own 
 life. Farewel. 
 
 Westminster, 0. P. 
 
 May 19M, 1655. 
 
 Superscribed, To the most Illustrious and Potent 
 Lords, the Consuls and Scnatoi-s of the Protes- 
 tant Cantons and Confederate Cities of Swit- 
 zerland, Greeting. 
 
 To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Lewis, King 
 o/" France. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King; 
 By your majesty's letters, which you wrote in an- 
 swer to ours of the twenty-fifth of May, we readily un- 
 derstand, that we failed not in our judgment, that the 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 609 
 
 inhuman slauffliter, and barbarous massacres of those 
 men, « ho profess the reformed reH«»-ion of Savoy, per- 
 petrated by some of your reg'iments, were the effects 
 neither of your orders nor commands. And it afforded 
 us a singular occasion of joy, to hear that your majesty 
 had so timely signified to your colonies and officers, 
 whose violent precipitancy engaged them in those in- 
 human butcheries, without the encouragement of law- 
 ful allowance, how displeasing they were to your ma- 
 jesty; that you had admonished the duke himself to for- 
 bear such acts of cruelty ; and that you had interposed 
 with so much fidelity and humanity all the high vene- 
 ration paid you in that court, your near alliance and 
 authority, for restoring to their ancient iibodes those 
 unfortunate exiles. And it was our hopes, that that 
 prince would in some measure have condescended to 
 the good pleasure and intercessions of your majesty. 
 But finding not any thing obtained, either by your 
 own, nor the entreaties and importunities of other 
 princes in the cause of the distressed, we deemed it not 
 foreign from our duty, to send this noble person, under 
 the character of our extraordinary envoy, to the duke 
 of Savoy, more amply and fully to lay before him, how 
 deeply sensible we are of such exasperated cruelties, 
 inflicted upon the professors of the same religion with 
 ourselves, and all this too out of a hatred of the same 
 worship. And we have reason to hope a success of 
 this negotiation so much the more prosperous, if your 
 majesty would vouchsafe to employ your authority 
 and assistance once again with so much the more ur- 
 gent importunity ; and as you have undertaken for 
 those indigent people, that they will be faithful and 
 obedient to their prince, so you would be gniciously 
 pleased to take care of their welfare and safety, that 
 no farther oj)pressions of tiiis nature, no more such 
 dismal calamities, may be the portion of the innocent 
 and peaceful. This being truly royal and just in it- 
 self, and highly agreeable to your benignity and cle- 
 mency, which every where protects in soft security 
 so many of jour subjects professing the same religion, 
 we cannot but expect, as it behoves us, from your 
 majesty. Which act of yours, as it will more closely 
 bind to your subjection all the protestants throughout 
 your spacious dominions, whose affection and fidelity 
 to your predecessors and yourself in most important 
 distresses have been often conspicuously made known : 
 so will it fully convince all foreign princes, that 
 the advice or intention of your majesty were no way 
 contributory to this prodigious violence, whatever 
 inflamed your ministers and officers to promote it. 
 More especially, if your majesty shall inflict deserv- 
 ed punishment upon those captains and ministers, 
 who of their own authority, and to gratify their own 
 wills, adventured the perpetrating such dreadful acts 
 of inhumanity. In the mean while, since your majesty 
 has assured us of your justly merited aversion to these 
 most inhuman and cruel proceedings, we doubt not 
 but you will afford a secure sanctuary and shelter 
 within your kingdom to all those miserable exiles, that 
 shall fly to your majesty for protection ; and that you 
 will not give permission to any of your subjects, to 
 
 assist the duke of Savoy to their prejudice. It remains 
 that we make known to your majesty, how highly we 
 esteem and value your friendship : in testimony of 
 which, we farther affirm, there shall never be wanting 
 upon all occasions the real assurances and effects of our 
 protestation. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 Whitehall, OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 Juli/ 29, 165.5. raonwealth of England, &c. 
 
 To the most Eminent Lord, Cardinal Mazarine. 
 
 Most Eminent Lord Cardinal, 
 
 Having deemed it necessary to send this noble per- 
 son to the king with letters, a copy of which is here 
 enclosed, we gave him also farther in charge, to salute 
 your excellency in our name, as having intrusted to 
 his fidelity certain other matters to be communicated 
 to your eminency. In reference to which affairs, I 
 entreat your eminency to give him entire credit, as 
 being a person in whom I have reposed a more than 
 ordinary confidence. 
 
 Your eminency's most affectionate, 
 
 Whitehall, OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 Juli/ 29, 1655. monwealth of England. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth oyENOLAND, 
 To the most Serene Prince, Frederic IIL, King of 
 Denmark, Norway, &c. 
 
 With what a severe and unmerciful edict Immanuel 
 duke of Savoy has expelled from their native seats his 
 subjects inhabiting the valleys of Piedmont, men other- 
 wise harmless, only for many years remarkably famous 
 for embracing the purity of religion ; and after a 
 dreadful slaughter of some numbers, how he has ex- 
 posed the rest to the hardships of those desert moun- 
 tains, stripped to their skins, and barred from all relief, 
 we believe your majesty has long since heard, and 
 doubt not but your majesty is touched with a real com- 
 miseration of their sufferings, as becomes so puissant a 
 defender and prince of the reformed faith : for indeed 
 the institutions of christian religion require, that what- 
 ever mischiefs and miseries any part of us undergo, it 
 should behove us all to be deeply sensible of the same : 
 nor does any man better than your majesty foresee, if 
 we may be thought able to give a right conjecture of 
 your piety and prudence, what dangers the success and 
 example of this fact portend to ourselves in particular, 
 and to the whole protestant name in general. We 
 have written the more willingly to yourself, to the end 
 we might assure your majesty, that the same sorrow, 
 which we hope you have conceived for the calamity of 
 our most innocent brethren, tlie same opinion, the same 
 judgment you have of the whole matter, is plainly and 
 sincerely our own. We have therefore sent our letters 
 to the duke of Savoy, wherein we have most impor- 
 tunately besought him, to spare those miserable people, 
 that implore his mercy, and that he would no longer 
 suffer that dreadful edict to be in force : which if your 
 majesty and the rest of the reformed princes would 
 
610 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 ▼ouchsafe to do, as we are apt to believe thej have 
 already done, there is some hope, that the anger of the 
 most serene duke may be assuaged, and that his indig- 
 nation will relent upon the intercession and importuni- 
 ties of his neighbour princes. Or if he persist in his 
 determinations, we protest ourselves ready, together 
 with your majesty, and the rest of our confederates of 
 the reformed religion, to take such speedy methods, as 
 may enable us, as far as in us lies, to relieve the dis- 
 tresses of so many miserable creatures, and provide 
 for their liberty and safety. In the mean time we 
 beseech Almighty God to bless your majesty with all 
 prosperity. 
 Whitehall, May — , 1655. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth q/* England, 
 ffc, To the most Noble the Consuls and Senators of 
 the City o/" Geneva. 
 
 We bad before made known to your lordships our 
 excessive sorrow for the heavy and unheard of cala- 
 mities of the protestants, inhabiting the valleys of 
 Piedmont, whom the duke of Savoy persecutes with 
 so much cruelty ; but that we made it our business, that 
 you should at the same time understand, that we are 
 not only affected with the multitudeof their sufferings, 
 but are using the utmost of our endeavours to relieve 
 and comfort them in their distresses. To that pur- 
 pose we have taken care for a gathering of alms to be 
 made throughout this whole republic ; which upon 
 good grounds we expect will be such, as will demon- 
 strate the affection of this nation toward their brethren, 
 labouring under the burden of such horrid inhumani- 
 ties ; and that as the communion of religion is the same 
 between both people, so the sense of their calamities 
 is no less the same. In the mean time, while the col- 
 lections of the money go forward, which in regard they 
 will require some time to accomplish, and for that the 
 wants and necessities of those deplorable people will 
 admit of no delay, we thought it requisite to remit be- 
 fore-hand two thousand pounds of the value of England 
 with all possible speed, to be distributed among such 
 as shall be judged to be most in present need of com- 
 fort and succour. Now in regard we are not ignorant 
 how deeply the miseries and wrongs of those most 
 innocent people have affected yourselves, and that you 
 will not think amiss of any labour or pains where you 
 can be assisting to their relief, we made no scruple to 
 commit the paying and distributing this sum of money 
 to your care ; and to give you this farther trouble, that 
 accordipg to your wonted piety and prudence, you 
 would take care, that the said money may be distri- 
 buted equally to the most necessitous, to the end that 
 though the sura be small, yet there may be something 
 to refresh and revive the most poor and needy, till we 
 can afford them a more plentiful supply. And thus, 
 not making any doubt but you will take in good part 
 the trouble imposed upon ye, we beseech Almighty 
 God to stir up the hearts of all his people professing 
 the orthodox religion, to resolve upon the common 
 defence of themselves, and the mutual assistance of 
 
 I 
 
 each other against their imbittercd and most implac^ 
 ble enemies : in the prosecution of which, we should 
 rejoice that our helping hand might be any way ser- 
 viceable to the church. Farewel. 
 
 Fifteen hundred pounds of the foresaid two thousand 
 will be remitted by Gerard Hench from Paris, and the 
 other five hundred pounds will be taken care of by 
 letters from the lord Stoup. 
 
 Jvne 8, 1655. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commontoealth o/*ENGLANn, 
 Sfc, To the most Serene Prince, the Duhe o/'Venice . 
 
 Most Serene Prince, 
 As it has been always a great occasion of rejoicing 
 to us, whenever any prosperous success attended your 
 arms, but more especially against the common enemy 
 of the Christian name; so neither are we sorry for the 
 late advantage gained by your fleet, though, as we 
 understand, it happened not a little to the detriment of 
 our people : for certain of our merchants, William and 
 Daniel Williams, and Edward Beale, have set forth in 
 a petition presented to us, that a ship of theirs, called 
 the Great Prince, was lately sent by them with goods 
 and merchandise to Constantinople, where the said 
 ship was detained by the ministers of the Port, to carry 
 soldiers and provisions to Crete ; and that the said ship 
 being constrained to sail along with the same fleet of 
 the Turks, which was set upon and vanquished by the 
 galleys of the Venetians, was taken, carried away to 
 Venice, and there adjudged lawful prize by the judges 
 of the admiralty. Now therefore in regard the said 
 ship was pressed by the Turks, and forced into their 
 service without the knowledge or consent of the owners 
 directly or indirectly obtained, and that it was impos- 
 sible for her, being shipped with soldiers, to withdraw 
 from the engagement, we most earnestly request your 
 serenity, that you will remit that sentence of your 
 admiralty, as a present to our friendship, and take such 
 care, that the ship may be restored to the owners, no 
 way deserving the displeasure of your republic by any 
 act of theirs. In the obtaining of which request, more 
 especially upon our intercession, while we find the 
 merchants themselves so well assured of your clemencj', 
 it behoves us not to question it. And so we beseech 
 the Almighty God to continue his prosperous blessings 
 upon your noble designs, and the Venetian republic. 
 
 Your serenity's and the Venetian repub- 
 lic's most affectionate, 
 
 Westminster, OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 Decemb. — , 1655. monwealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/*England, 
 4*c., To the most Serene Prince, Lewis, King of 
 France. 
 
 Most Serene King, 
 Certain of our merchants, by name Samuel Mico, 
 William Cockain, George Poyner, and several others, j 
 in a petition to us have set forth, That in the year 1650, 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 611 
 
 tlicy laded a ship of theirs, called the Unicom, with 
 g-Qods of a very considerable value ; and that the said 
 ship being- thus laden with silk, oil, and other merchan- 
 dise, amounting- to above thirty-four thousand of our 
 pounds, was taken by the admiral and vice-admiral of 
 your majesty's fleet in the Mediterranean sea. Now it 
 appears to us, that our people who were then in the 
 ship, by reason there was at that time a peace between 
 the French and us, that never had been violated in the 
 least, were not willinj^ to make any defence ag-ainst 
 your majesty's royal ships, and therefore, overruled be- 
 sides by the fair promises of the captains Paul and 
 Tenery, who faithfully engaged to dismiss our people, 
 they paid their obedience to the maritime laws, and 
 produced their bills of lading. Moreover, we find that 
 the merchants aforesaid sent their agent into France, to 
 demand restitution of the said ship and goods : and then 
 it was, that after above three years slipped away, when 
 the suit was brought so far, that sentence of restitution 
 or condemnation was to have been given, that his emi- 
 nency cardinal Mazarine acknowledged to their factor 
 Hugh Morel, the wrong that had been done the mer- 
 chants, and undertook that satisfaction should be given, 
 so soon as the league between the two nations, which 
 was then under negotiation, should be ratified and 
 confirmed. Nay, since that, his excellency M. dc 
 Bourdeaux, your majesty's embassador, assured us in 
 express words, by the command of your majesty and 
 your council, That care should be t"".ken of that ship 
 and goods in a particular exception, apart from those 
 controversies, for the decision of which a general pro- 
 vision was made by the leag^ue : of which promise, the 
 embassador, now opportunely arrived here to solicit 
 some business of his own, is a testimony no way to be 
 questioned. Which being- true, and the right of the 
 merchants in redcmanding^ fiieir ship and goods so 
 undeniably apparent, we most earnestly request your 
 majesty, tliat they may meet with no delay in obtain- 
 ing what is justly their due, but that your majesty will 
 admit the grant of this favour, as the first fruits of our 
 revived amity, and the lately renewed league between 
 us. The refusal of which as we have no reason to 
 doubt, so we beseech Almighty God to bless with all 
 prosperity both your majesty and jour kingdom. 
 Your majesty's most aflTectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Common- 
 Westmijister, wealth of England, Scotland, 
 
 Dec. — , 1655. and Ireland, &c. 
 
 To the Evangelic Cities o/ Switzerland. 
 
 In what condition your affaii-s are, Mhich is not the 
 best, we are abundantly informed, as well by your 
 public acts transmitted to us by our agent at Geneva, 
 as also by your letters from Zuric, bearing date the 
 twenty -seventh of December. Whereby, although we 
 arc sorry to find your peace, and such a lasting league 
 of confederacy, broken ; nevertheless since it appears 
 to have happened through no fault of yours, we are in 
 hopes that the iniquity and perverseness of your ad- 
 versaries are contriving new occasions for ye to make 
 2 R 
 
 known your long ago experienced fortitude and resolu- 
 tion in defence of the Evangelic faith. For as for 
 those of the canton of Schwitz, who account it a capital 
 crime for any person to embrace our religion, what 
 they are might and main designing, and wliose insti- 
 gations have incensed them to resolutions of hostility 
 against the orthodox religion, nobody can be ignorant, 
 who has not yet forgot that most detestable slaughter 
 of our brethren in Piedmont. Wherefore, most be- 
 loved friends, what you were always wont to be, with 
 God's assistance still continue, magnanimous and re- 
 solute ; suffer not your privileges, your confederacies, 
 the liberty of your consciences, your religion itself to 
 be trampled under foot by the worshippers of idols ; 
 and so prepare yourselves, that you may not seem to 
 be the defenders only of your own freedom and safety, 
 but be ready likewise to aid and succour, as far as in 
 you lies, your neighbouring brethren, more especially 
 those most deplorable Piedmontois; as being certainly 
 convinced of this, that a passage was lately intended 
 to have been opened over their slaughtered bodies to 
 your sides. As for our part be assured, that we are no 
 less anxious and solicitous for your welfare and pros- 
 perity, than if this conflagration had broken forth in 
 our republic; or as if the axes of the Schwitz Canton 
 had been sharpened for our necks, or that their swords 
 had been drawn against our breasts, as indeed they 
 were against the bosoms of all the reformed. There- 
 fore so soon as we were informed of the condition of 
 your aflfairs, and the obstinate animosities of your ene- 
 mies, advising with some sincere and honest persons, 
 together with some ministers of the church most emi- 
 nent for their piety, about sending to your assistance 
 such succour as the present posture of our affairs would 
 permit, we came to those results which our envoy Pell 
 will impart to your consideration. In the mean time 
 we cease not to implore the blessing of the Almighty 
 upon all your counsels, and the protection of your most 
 just cause, as well in war as in peace. 
 
 Your lordships and worships most affectionate, 
 Westmitister, OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 Jan. — , 1655. monwealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth oy England, 
 ^c, To the most Serene Prince, Charles Gustavus, 
 % the Grace of God King of the Swedes, Goths, 
 and Vandals, Great Prince o/Tinland, §'c. 
 
 Most Serene King, 
 Seeing it is a thing well known to all men, that 
 there ought to be a communication of concerns among 
 friends, whether in prosperity or adversity; it cannot 
 but be most grateful to us, that your majesty should 
 vouchsafe to impart unto us by your letters the most 
 pleasing and delightful part of your friendship, wliich 
 is your joy. In regard it is a mark of singular civility, 
 and truly royal, as not to live only to a man's self, so 
 neither to rejoice alone, unless he be sensible that his 
 friends and confederates partake of his gladness. Cer- 
 tainly then, we have reason to rejoice for the birth of 
 the young prince bom to such an excellent king, and 
 
G12 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 sent into the world to be the heir of his father's glory 
 and virtue ; and this at such a lucky season, that we 
 have no less cause to congratulate the royal parent with 
 the memorable omen that befell the famous Philip of 
 Maccdou, who at the same time received the tidin<rs of 
 Alexander's birth, and the conquest of the Illyrians. 
 For we make no question, but the wresting of the 
 kingdom of Poland from papal subjection, as it were a 
 horn dismembered from the head of the beast, and the 
 peace, so much desired by all good men, concluded 
 with the duke of Brandenburgh, will be most higlily 
 conducing to the tranquillity and advantage of the 
 cliurch. Heaven grant a conclusion correspondent to 
 such signal beginnings ; and may the son be like the 
 father in virtue, piety, and renown, obtained by great 
 achievements. Which is that we wish may luckily 
 come to pass, and which we beg of the Almighty, so 
 propitious hitherto to your affairs. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 Westminster, OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 Feb. — , 1655. mouwealtb cf England, &c. 
 
 To the King ©/"Denmark. 
 Most Serene and Potent Prince, 
 John Freeman and Philip Travess, citizens of this 
 republic, by a petition presented to us, in their own 
 and the name of several other merchants of London, 
 have made a complaint. That whereas about the month 
 of March, in the year 1653, they freighted a certain 
 ship of Sunderburg, called the Saviour, Nicholas 
 Weinskinks master, with woollen cloth, and other 
 commodities to the value of above three thousand 
 pound, with orders to the master, that he should sail 
 directly up the Baltic for Dantzic, paying the usual 
 tribute at Elsenore, to which purpose in particular 
 they gave him money : nevertheless that the said mas- 
 ter, perfidiously and contrary to the orders of the said 
 merchants, slipping by Elsenore without paying the 
 usual duty, thought to have proceeded in his voyage, 
 but that the ship for this reason was immediately 
 seized and detained with all her lading. After due 
 consideration of which complaints, we wrote in favour 
 of the merchants to your majesty's embassador residing 
 at London, who promised, as they say, tliat as soon as 
 be returned to your majesty, he would take care that 
 the merchants should be taken into consideration. 
 But he being sent to negotiate your majesty's afl'airs 
 in other countries, the merchants attended upon him 
 in vain, both before and after his departure ; so that 
 they were forced to send their agent to prosecute their 
 right and claim at Copenhagen, and demand restitution 
 of the ship and goods ; but all the benefit they reaped 
 by it was only to add more expenses to their fonner 
 damages, and a great deal of labour and pains thrown 
 away ; the goods being condemned to confiscation, 
 and still detained : whereas by the law of Denmark, 
 as they set forth in their petition, the master is to be 
 punished for his offence, and the ship to be condemned 
 but not the goods. And they look upon this misfor- 
 tune to lie the more heavy upon them, in regard the 
 duty which is to be paid at Elsenore, as they tell i 
 
 us, is but very small. Wherefore seeing our mti 
 chants seem to have given no cause of proscription, 
 and for that the roaster confessed before his dealli, 
 that this damage befell them only through his neglect; 
 and the father of the master deceased, by his {petition 
 to your majesty, as we arc given to understand, by 
 laying all the blame on his son, has acquitted the 
 merchants; we could not but believe the detaining of 
 the said ship and goods to be most nnjust; and there- 
 fore we are confident, that so soon as your majesty 
 shall be rightly informed of the whole matter, you 
 will not only disapprove of these oppressions of your 
 ministers, but give command that they be called to an 
 account, that the goods be restored to the owners or 
 their factors, and reparation made them for the losses 
 they have sustained. All which we most earnestly 
 request of your majesty, as being no more than what 
 is so just and consentaneous to reason, that a more 
 equitable demand, or more legal satisfaction cannot 
 well be made, considering the justice of our merchants' 
 cause, and which your own subjects would think but 
 fair and honest upon the like occasions. 
 
 To the most Serene Prince^ John the Fourth, King of 
 Portugal, !fc. 
 
 Most Serene King, 
 The peace and friendship which your majesty d< 
 sired, by your noble and splendid embassy sent to 
 some time since, after certain negotiations begun by 
 the parliament in whom the supreme power was vested 
 at that time, as it was always most affectionately wished 
 for by us, with the assistance of God, and that we might 
 not be wanting in the administration of the govern- 
 ment which we have now taken upon us, at length we 
 brought to a happy conclusion, and as we hope, as a 
 sacred act, have ratified it to perpetuity. And therefore 
 we send back to your majesty your extraordinary em- 
 bassador, the lord John Roderigo de Sita Meneses, 
 count of Pennaguiada, a person both approved by your 
 majesty's judgment, and by us experienced to excel in 
 civility, ingenuity, prudence, and fidelity, besides the 
 merited applause which he has justly gained by accom- 
 plishing the ends of his embassy, which is the peace 
 which he carries along with him to his country. But 
 as to what we perceive by your letters dated from 
 Lisbon the second of April, that is to say, how highly 
 your majesty esteems our amity, how cordially you 
 favour our advancement, and rejoice at our having 
 taken the government of the republic upon us, which 
 you are pleased to manifest by singular testimonies of 
 kindness and affection, we shall make it our business, 
 that all the world may understand, by our readiness 
 at all times to serve your majesty, that there could be 
 nothing more acceptable or grateful to us. Nor are 
 we less earnest in our prayers to God for your majesty's 
 safety, the welfare of your kingdom, and the prosperous 
 success of your affairs. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 OLIVER, &c. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 613 
 
 Ohiv^n, Protector of the Commonwealth o/'England, 
 Sfc, To the High and Mighty States of the United 
 Provinces. 
 
 Most High and Mighty Lords, our dearest Friends ; 
 
 Certain merchants, our countrymen, Thomas Bas- 
 sel, Richard Beare, and others their copartners, have 
 made their complaints before us, that a certain ship of 
 theirs, the Edmund and John, in her voyage from tlie 
 coast of Brazil to Lisbon, was set upon by a privateer 
 of Flushing, called the Red Lion, commanded by 
 Lambert Bartelson, but upon this condition, which the 
 writing signed by Lambert himself testifies, that the 
 ship and whatsoever goods belonged to the English 
 should be restored at Flushing : where when the vessel 
 arrived, the ship indeed with what peculiarly belonged 
 to the seamen was restored, but the English merchants' 
 goods were detained and put forthwith to sale: for the 
 merchants who had received the damage, when they 
 had sued for their goods in the court of Flushing, after 
 great expenses for five years together, lost their suit 
 by the pronouncing of a most unjust sentence against 
 them by those judges, of which some, being interested 
 in the privateer, were both judges and adversaries, and 
 no less criminal altogether. So that now they have 
 no other hopes but only in your equity and uncorrupted 
 faith, to which at last they fly for succour : and which 
 they believed they should find the more inclinable to 
 do them justice, if assisted by our recommendation. 
 And men are surely to be pardoned, if, afraid of all 
 things in so great a struggle for their estates, they 
 rather call to mind what they have reason to fear from 
 your authority and high power, than what they have 
 to hope well of their cause, especially before sincere 
 and upright judges : though for our parts we make 
 no question, but that induced by your religion, your 
 justice, your integrity, rather than by our entreaties, 
 you will give that judgment which is just and equal, 
 and truly becoming yourselvesi. God preserve both 
 you and your republic to his own glory, and the defence 
 and succour of his church. 
 
 Westminster, OLIVER, Protector of the Common- 
 April 1, 1656. wealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/* England, 
 Scotland, and Ireland, Sfc, To the most Serene 
 Prince, Charles Gustavus, King of the Swedes, 
 Goths, awe? Vandals, Great Prince o/" Finland, 
 Duke of EsTHONiA, Carelia, Breme, Verden, 
 Stettin, Pomerania, Cassubia, and Vandalia, 
 Prince of Rugia, Lord of Ingria and Wismaria, 
 Count Palatine of the Rhine, Duke of Bavaria, 
 JuLiERs, Cleves, and Monts. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, 
 Peter Julius Coict having accomplished the affairs 
 of his embassy with us, and so acquitted himself, that 
 he is not by us to be dismissed without the ornament 
 of his deserved praises, is now returning to your ma- 
 jesty. For he was most acceptable to us, as well and 
 
 chiefly for your own sake, which ought with us to be 
 of high consideration, as for his own deserts in the di- 
 ligent acquittal of his trust. The recommendation 
 therefore which we received from you in his behalf, 
 we freely testify to have been made good by him, and 
 deservedly given by yourself; as he on the other side 
 is able with the same fidelity and integrity, to relate 
 and most truly to declare our singular aflection and 
 observance toward your majesty. It remains for us 
 to beseech the most merciful and all powerful God, to 
 bless your majesty with all felicity, and perpetual course 
 of victory over all the enemies of his church. 
 
 Your majesty's most afifectionate, 
 Westminster, OLIVER, Protectorof theCommon- 
 Apriln, 1656. wealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/'England, 
 ^c. To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Lewis, 
 King o/*France. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, 
 John Dethic, mayor of the city of London for this 
 year, and William Wakefield, merchant, have made 
 their addresses to us by way of petition, complaining, 
 that about the middle of October, sixteen hundred and 
 forty-nine, they freighted a certain ship called the Jo- 
 nas of London, Jonas Lightfoot master, with goods 
 that were to be sent to Ostend ; which vessel was taken 
 in the mouth of the river Thames, by one White of 
 Barking, a pirate, robbing upon the seas by virtue of a 
 commission from the son of King Charles deceased, 
 and carried to Dunkirk, then under the jurisdiction of 
 the French. Now in regard that by your majesty's 
 edict in the year sixteen hundred and forty-seven, re- 
 newed in sixteen hundred and forty-nine, and by some 
 other decrees in favour of the parliament of England, 
 as they find it recorded, it was enacted, that no vessel 
 or goods taken from the English, in the time of that 
 war, should be carried into any of your majesty's ports 
 to be there put to sale ; they presently sent their factor 
 Hugh Morel to Dunkirk, to demand restitution of the 
 said ship and goods from M. Lestrade then governor 
 of the town; more especially finding them inthe place 
 for the most part untouched, and neither exchanged or 
 sold. To which the governor made answer, that the 
 king had bestowed that government upon him of his 
 free gift or service done the king in his wars, and there- 
 fore he would take care to make the best of the reward of 
 his labour. So that having little to hope from an an- 
 swer so unkind and unjust, after a great expense of 
 time and money, the factor returned home. So that 
 all the remaining hopes, which the petitioners have, 
 seem wholly to depend upon your majesty's justice and 
 clemency, to which they thought they might have the 
 more easy access by means of our letters ; and there- 
 fore that neither your clemency nor 3'our justice may 
 be wanting to people despoiled against all law and 
 reason, and contrary to your repeated prohibitions, we 
 make it our request. W^herein, if your majesty vouch- 
 safe to gratify us, since there is nothing required but 
 what is most just and equitable, we shall deem it as 
 
614 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 obtained rather from your innate integritj, than any 
 entreaty of ours. 
 
 Vourinajesty's most affectionate, 
 Westminster, OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 May — , 1656. monwealtb of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth ©/"England, 
 ^c. To the High and Mighty Lords, the States of 
 the United Provinces. 
 
 Most High and Mighty Lords, our dearest Friends; 
 
 John Brown, Nicholas Williams, and others, citi- 
 zens of London, have set forth in their petitions to us, 
 that when they had every one brought in their propor- 
 tions, and freighted a certain ship called the Good 
 Hope of London, bound for the East Indies, they gave 
 orders to their factor, to take up at Amsterdam two 
 thousand four hundred Dutch pounds, to ensure the 
 said ship ; that afterwanls this ship, in her voyage to 
 the coast of India, was taken by a ship belonging to 
 the East India Company; upon which they who had 
 engaged to ensure the said vessel refused to pay the 
 money, and have for this six years by various delays 
 eluded our merchants, who with extraordinary dili- 
 gence, and at vast expenses, endeavoured the recovery 
 of tlieir just right. Which in regard it is an unjust 
 grievance, that lies so heavy upon the petitioners, for 
 that some of those who obliged themselves are dead or 
 become insolvent ; therefore that no farther losses may 
 accrue to their former damages, we make it our earnest 
 request to your lordships, that you will vouchsafe your 
 integrity to be the harbour and refuge for people tossed 
 so many years, and almost shipwrecked in your courts 
 of justice, and that speedy judgment may be given ac- 
 cording to the rules of equity and honesty in their 
 cause, which they believe to be most just. In the mean 
 time we wish you all prosperity to the glory of God, 
 and the welfare of his church. 
 
 Your high and mighty lordships most affectionate, 
 
 Westminster, OLIVER, Protector of the Corn- 
 
 May — , 1656. monwealtb of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/" England, 
 ^c. To the High and Mighty Lords, the States of 
 the United Provinces. 
 
 Most High and Mighty Lords, our dearest Friends ; 
 
 The same persons in whose behalf we wrote to your 
 lordships in September the last year, Thomas and Wil- 
 liam Lower, the lawful heirs of Nicholas Lower de- 
 ceased, make grievous complaints before us, that they 
 arc oppressed either by the favour or wealth of their 
 adversaries, notwithstanding the justice of their cause ; 
 and when that would not suffice, although our letters 
 were often pleaded in their behalf, they have not been 
 able hitherto to obtain possession of the inheritance 
 left them by their father's will. From the court of 
 Holland, where the suit was first commenced, they 
 were sent to your court, and from thence hurried 
 away into Zealand, (to which three places they carried 
 our letters,) and now they are remanded, not unwill- 
 
 ingly^ back again to your supreme judicature ; fo 
 where the supreme power is, there they expect supremi 
 justice. If that hope fail them, eluded and frustratedJ 
 after being so long tossed from post to pillar for the 
 recovery of their right, where at length to find a rest 
 ing place they know not. For as for our letters, il 
 they find no benefit of these the fourth time written, 
 they can never promise themselves any advantage 
 for the future from slighted papers. However, it 
 would be most acceptable to us, if yet at length, aftei 
 so many contempts, the injured heirs might meet with 
 some relief by a speedy and just judgment, if no| 
 out of respect to any reputation we have anion| 
 ye, yet out of a regard to your own equity and jus- 
 tice. Of the last of which we make no question, an( 
 confidently presume you will allow the other to oui 
 friendship. 
 
 Your high and mighty lordships most affectionate^ 
 
 Westminster, OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 May — , 1656. monwealtb of Engla;id, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of Esch as d^ 
 S^c, To the most Serene Pi-inceJoHS, King of PoK'* 
 
 TUOAL. 
 
 Most Serene King, 
 Whereas there is a considerable sum of money ow-* 
 ing from certain Portugal merchants of the BrasiU 
 company to several English merchants, upon the ac> 
 count of freightage and demorage, in the years sixteen 
 hundred and forty-nine and sixteen-hundred and fifty 
 which money is detained by the said company by yom 
 majesty's command, the merchants before mentione< 
 expected, that the said money should have been pai< 
 long since according to the articles of the last league 
 but now they are afraid of being debarred all hope 
 and means of recovering their debts ; understandin| 
 your majesty has ordered, that what money is owinj 
 to them by the Brasile company shall be carried into 
 your treasury, and that no more than one half of the 
 duty of freightage shall be expended toward the pay 
 ment of their debts; by which means the merchant 
 willreceiveno more than thebare interest of their money, 
 while at the same time they utterly lose their principal. 
 Which we considering to be very severe and heavy 
 upon them, and being overcome by their most reason- 
 able supplications, have granted them these our letters 
 to your majesty; chiefly requesting this at your hands, 
 to take care that the aforesaid Brasile company may 
 give speedy satisfaction to the merchants of this repub- 
 lic, and pay them not only the principal money which 
 is owing to them, but the five years interest ; as being 
 both just in itself, and conformable to the league 
 so lately concluded between us ; which on their be- 
 half in most friendly manner we request from your 
 
 majesty. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 
 From our Palace OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 at Westminster, monwealtb, &c. 
 
 1 July —, 1656. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 615 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/'Enoland, 
 ^c. To the most Serene Prince, CHAYthEsGvsT Ay vs. 
 King of the Swedes, Goths, and Vandals, ^c. 
 
 Most Serene King, 
 As it is but just that we should highly value the 
 friendship of your majesty, a prince so potent and so 
 renowned for great achievements; so is it but equally 
 reasonable that your extraordinary embassador, the 
 most illustrious lord Christiem Bond, by whose sedu- 
 lity and care a strict alliance is most sacredly and so- 
 lemnly ratified between us, should be most acceptable to 
 us, and no less deeply fixed in our esteem. Him there- 
 fore, having now most worthily accomplished his em- 
 bassy, we thought it became us to send back to your 
 majesty, though not without the high applause which 
 the rest of his singular virtues merit; to the end, that 
 he, who was before conspicious in your esteem and 
 respect, may now be sensible of his having reaped still 
 more abundant fruits of his sedulity and prudence from 
 our recommendation. As for those things which yet 
 remain to be transacted, we have determined in a short 
 time to send an embassy to your majesty for the settling 
 of those affairs. In the mean time. Almighty God 
 preserve in safety so great a pillar of his church, and 
 of Swcdland's welfare. 
 , Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 
 From our palace OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 at Westminster, monwealth of England, &c. 
 
 July —, 1656. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth q/*ENGLAND, 
 Sfc, To the most Serene Prince I^wis, King of 
 France. 
 
 Most Serene King, our most dear Friend 
 and Confederate ; 
 Certain merchants of London, Richard Baker and 
 others, have made their complaint in a petition to us, 
 that a certain hired ship of theirs, called the Endeavour, 
 William Jop master, laden at Teneriff with three hun- 
 dred pipes of rich Canary, and bound from thence for 
 London, in her voyage between Palmaand that island, 
 upon the twenty-first of November, in the year sixteen 
 hundred and fifty-five, was taken by four French ves- 
 sels, seeming ships of burden, but fitted and manned 
 like privateers, under the command of Giles de la 
 Roche their admiral ; and carried with all their freight, 
 and the greatest part of the seamen, to the East Indies, 
 whither he pretended to be bound, (fourteen excepted, 
 who were put ashore upon the coast of Guiney,) which 
 the said Giles affirmed he did with that intent, that 
 none of them might escape from so remote and bar- 
 barous a country to do him any harm by their testi- 
 mony. For he confessed he had neither any commis- 
 sion to take the English vessels, neither had he taken 
 any, as he might have done before, well knowing 
 there was a firm peace at that time between the French 
 and our republic: but in regard he had designed to 
 revictual in Portugal, from whence he was driven by 
 
 contrary winds, he was constrained to supply his ne- 
 cessities with what he found in that vessel ; and 
 believed the owners of his ships would satisfy the mer- 
 chants for their loss. Now the loss of our merchants 
 amounts to sixteen thousand English pounds, as will 
 easily be made appear by witnesses upon oath. But 
 if it shall be lawful, upon such trivial excuses as these, 
 for pirates to violate the most religious acts of princes, 
 and make a sport of merchants for their particular be- 
 nefits, certainly the sanctity of leagues must fall to the 
 ground, all faith and authority of princes will grow 
 out of date, and be trampled under foot. Wherefore 
 we not only request your majesty, but believe it mainly 
 to concern your honour, that they, who have ventured 
 upon so slight a pretence to violate the league and 
 most sacred oath of their sovereign, should sufl^er the 
 punishment due to such perfidiousness and daring in^ 
 solence ; and that in the mean time the owners of those 
 ships, though to their loss, should be bound to satisfy 
 our merchants for the vast detriment, which they have 
 so wrongfully sustained. So may the Almighty long 
 preserve your majesty, and support the interest of 
 France against the common enemy of us both. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 From our palace 
 
 at Westminster, OLIVER, Protector, &c. 
 
 Auff. — , 1656. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/* England, 
 To his Eminency Cardinal Mazarine. 
 
 Most Eminent Lord, 
 Having an occasion to send letters to the king, wo 
 thought it likewise an oflTered opportunity to write to 
 your eminency. For we could not think it proper to 
 conceal the subject of our writing from the sole and 
 only person, whose singular prudence governs the most 
 important interests of the French nation, and the most 
 weighty aflfairs of the kingdom with equal fidelity', 
 counsel, and vigilance. Not without reason we com- 
 plain, in short, to find that league by yourself, as it 
 were a crime to doubt, most sacredly concluded, al- 
 most the very same day contemned and violated by 
 one Giles a Frenchman, a petty admiral of four ships, 
 and his associates, equally concerned, as your eminency 
 will readily find by our letters to the king, and the 
 demands themselves of our merchants. Nor is it un- 
 known to your excellency, how much it concerns not 
 only inferior magistrates, but even royal majesty itself, 
 that those first violators of solemn alliances should be 
 severely punished. But they, perhaps, by this time 
 being arrived in the East Indies, whither they pre- 
 tended to be bound, enjoy in undisturbed possession 
 the goods of our people as lawful prize won from an 
 enemy, which they robbed and pillaged from the 
 owners, contrary to all law, and the pledged faith of 
 our late sacred league. However, this is that which 
 we request from your eminency, that whatever goods 
 were taken from our merchants by the admiral of those 
 ships, as necessary for his voyage, may be restored by 
 the owners of the same vessels, which was no more than 
 
616 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 what the rovers themselves thought just and equal ; 
 which, as we understand, it lies within your power to 
 do, considering the authority and svray you bear in the 
 kingdom. 
 
 Your eminency's most affectionate. 
 From our palace OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 at Westminster, monwealth, &c. 
 
 Aur;. — , 1656. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/Esglasd, 
 Sfc, To the most High and Mighty Lords, the States 
 of the United Provinces. 
 
 Most High and Mighty Lords, our dearest 
 Friends and Confederates ; 
 We make no doubt but that all men will bear us 
 this testimony, that no considerations, in contracting 
 foreign alliances, «ver swayed us beyond those of de- 
 fending the truth of religion, or that we accounted any 
 thing more sacred, than to unite the minds of all the 
 friends and protectors of the protestants, and of all 
 others who at least were not their enemies. Whence 
 it come to pass, that we are touched with so much the 
 more grief of mind, to hear that the protestant princes 
 and cities, whom it so much behoves to live in friend- 
 ship and concord together, should begin to be so jealous 
 of each other, and so ill disposed to mutual affection ; 
 more especially, that your lordships and the king of 
 Sweden, than whom the orthodox faith has not more 
 magnanimous and courageous defenders, nor our re- 
 public confederates more strictly conjoined in interests, 
 should seem to remit of your confidence in each other ; 
 or rather, that there should appear some too apparent 
 signs of tottering friendship and growing discord be- 
 tween ye. What the causes are, and what progress 
 this alienation of your affection has made, we protest 
 ourselves to be altogether ignorant. However, we 
 cannot but conceive an extraordinary trouble of mind 
 for these beginnings of the least dissension arisen among 
 brethren, which infallibly must greatly endanger the 
 protestant interests. Which if they should gather 
 strength, how prejudicial it would prove to protestant 
 churches, what an occasion of triumph it would afford 
 our enemies, and more especially the Spaniards, can- 
 not be unknown to your prudence, and most industri- 
 ous experience of affairs. As for the Spaniards, it has 
 already so enlivened their confidence, and raised their 
 courage, that they made no scruple by their embassa- 
 dor residing in your territories, boldly to obtrude their 
 counsels upon your lordships, and that in reference to 
 the highest concerns of your republic ; presuming 
 partly with threats of renewing the war, to terrify, 
 and partly with a false prospect of advantage to solicit 
 your lordships, to forsake your ancient and most faith- 
 ful friends, the English, French, and Danes, and enter 
 into a strict confederacy with your old enemy, and 
 once your domineering tyrant, now seemingly atoned; 
 but, what is most to be feared, only at present treacher- 
 ously fawning to advance his own designs. Certainly 
 he who of an inveterate enemy lays hold of so sliglit 
 an occasion of a sudden to become your counsellor. 
 
 what is it that he would not take upon him ? Wljcre 
 would his insolcncy stop, if once he could but see with 
 his eyes, what now he only ruminates and labours in 
 his thoughts ; that is to say, division and a civil war 
 among the protestants ? We are not ignorant that 
 your lordships, out of your deep wisdom, frequently re- 
 volve in your minds what the posture of all Europe is, 
 and what more especially the condition of the protes- 
 tants: that the cantons of Switzerland adhering to the 
 orthodox faith are in daily expectation of new trou- 
 bles to be raised by their countrymen embracing the 
 popish ceremonies ; scarcely recovered from that war, 
 which for the sake of religion was kindled and blown 
 up by the Spaniards, who supplied their enemies both 
 with commanders and money : that the councils of the 
 Spaniards are still contriving to continue the slaughter 
 and destruction of the Piedmontois, which was cruelly 
 put in execution the last year: that the protestants un- 
 der the jurisdiction of the emperor are most grievously 
 harassed, having much ado to keep possession of their 
 native homes : that the king of Sweden, whom God, as 
 we hope, has raised up to be a most stout defender 
 of the orthodox faith, is at present waging with all the 
 force of his kingdom a doubtful and bloody war with 
 the most potent enemies of the reformed religion : that 
 your own provinces are threatened with hostile confe- 
 deracies of the princes your neighbours, headed by the 
 Spaniards : and lastly, that we ourselves are busied in 
 a war proclaimed against the king of Spain. In this 
 posture of affairs, if any contest should happen between 
 your lordships and the king of Sweden, how miserable 
 would be the condition of all the reformed churches 
 over all Europe, exposed to the cruelty and fury of 
 unsanctified enemies ! These cares not slightly seize 
 us; and we hope your sentiments to be the same; 
 and that out of your continued zeal for the common 
 cause of the protestants, and to the end the present 
 peace between brethren professing the same faith, the 
 same hope of eternity, may be preserved inviolable, 
 your lordships will accommodate your counsels to those 
 considerations, which are to be preferred before all 
 others ; and that you will leave nothing neglected, that 
 may conduce to the establishing tranquillity and union 
 between your lordships and the king of Sweden. 
 Wherein if we can any way be useful, as far as our 
 authority, and the favour you bear us will sway your 
 lordships, we freely offer our utmost assistance, pre- 
 pared in like manner to be no less serviceable to the 
 king of Sweden, to whom we design a speedy embassy, 
 to the end we may declare our sentiments at large con- 
 cerning these matters. We hope moreover, that God 
 will bend your minds on both sides to moderate coun- 
 sels, and so restrain your animosities, that no provoca- 
 tion may be given, either by the one or the other, to 
 fester your differences to extremity ; but that on the 
 other side both parties will remove whatever may give 
 offence or occasion of jealousy to the other. Which if 
 3-ou shall vouchsafe to do, you will disappoint your 
 enemies, prove the consolation of your friends, and in 
 the best manner provide for the welfare of your repub- 
 lic. And this we beseech you to be fully convinced of, 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 617 
 
 that we sIliII use our utmost care to make appear, upon 
 all occasions, our extraordinary afFectiou and goodwill 
 to the states of the United Provinces. And so we most 
 earnestly implore the Almighty God to perpetuate his 
 blessing-s of peace, wealth, and liberty, upon your re- 
 public ; but above all things to preserve it 'always 
 flourishing in the love of the christian faith, and the 
 true worship of his name. 
 
 Your high and mightinesses most affectionate, 
 From our palace OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 at Westminster, monwealth of England, &c. 
 
 Auff. — , 1656, 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of Eng- 
 land, ^c. To the most Serene Prince, John, King of 
 Portugal. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, 
 Upon the eleventh of July last, old style, we receiv- 
 ed by Thomas Maynard the ratification of the peace 
 negotiated at London by your extraordinary cmbassa- 
 <lor ; as also of the private and preliminary articles, all 
 now confirmed by your majesty: and by our letters 
 from Philip Meadows, our agent at Lisbon, dated the 
 same time, we understand that our ratification also of 
 the same peace and articles was by him, according to 
 our orders sent him, delivered to your majesty: and 
 thus the instruments of the foremenioned ratification 
 being mutually interchanged on both sides in the be- 
 ginning of June last, there is now a firm and settled 
 peace between both nations. And this pacification has 
 given us no small occasion of joy and satisfaction, as 
 believing it will prove to the common benefit of both 
 nations, and to the no slight detriment of our common 
 enemies, who as they found out a means to disturb the 
 former league, so they left nothing neglected to have 
 hindered the renewing of this. Nor do we question in 
 the least, that they will omit any occasion of creating 
 new matter for scandals and jealousies between us. 
 Which we however have constantly determined, as 
 much as in us lies, to remove at a remote distance from 
 our thoughts; rather we so earnestly desire, that this 
 our alliance may beget a mutual confidence, greater 
 every day than other, that we shall take them for our 
 enemies, who shall by any artifices endeavour to mo- 
 lest the friendship by this peace established between 
 oui"seIves and hoth our people. And we readily per- 
 suade ourselves, that your majesty's thoughts and in- 
 tentions are the same. And whereas it has pleased 
 your majesty, by your letters dated the twenty-fourth 
 of June, and some days after the delivery by our agent 
 of the interchanged instrument of confirmed peace, to 
 mention certain clauses of the league, of which you 
 desired some little alteration, being of small moment to 
 this republic, as your majesty believes, but of great 
 importance to the kingdom of Portugal ; we shall be 
 ready to enter into a particular treaty in order to those 
 proposals made by your majesty, or whatever else may 
 conduce, in the judgment of both parties, to the farther 
 establishment and more strongly fastening of the 
 
 league : wherein we shall have those due consider- 
 ations of your majesty and your subjects, as also of our 
 own people, that a:ll may be satisfied ; and it shall be 
 in 3our own choice, whether these things shall be ne- 
 gotiated at Lisbon, or at London. However, the league 
 being now confirmed, and duly sealed with the seals of 
 both nations, to alter any part of it would be the same 
 thing as to annul the whole ; which we are certainly 
 assured your majesty by no means desires to do. We 
 heartily wish all things lucky, all things prosperous to 
 your majesty. From our palace at Westminster, Auy. 
 — , 1656. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Common- 
 wealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth oyENOLAND, 
 §'c., To the most Serene Prince, John, King of For- 
 
 TUGAL. 
 
 Most Serene King, 
 We have received the unwelcome news of a wicked 
 and inhuman attempt to have murdered our agent 
 Philip Meadows, residing with your majesty, and by 
 us sent upon the blessed errand of peace ; the heinous- 
 ness of which was such, that his preservation is only 
 to be attributed to the protection of Heaven. And we 
 are given to understand, by your letters dated the 
 twenty-sixth of May last, and delivered to us by Tho- 
 mas Maynard, that your majesty, justly incensed at 
 the horridness of the fact, has commanded inquiry to 
 be made after the criminals, to the end they may be 
 brought to condign punishment : but we do not hear 
 that any of the rufiians are yet apprehended, or that 
 your commands have wrought any effect in this par- 
 ticular. Wherefore we thought it our duty openly to 
 declare, how deeply we resent this barbarous outrage 
 in part attempted, and in part committed : and there- 
 fore we make it our request to your majcstj^ that due 
 punishment may be inflicted upon the authors, associ- 
 ates, and encouragers of this abominable fact. And to 
 the end that this maybe the more speedily accomplished, 
 we farther demand, that persons of honesty and sin- 
 cerity, wellwisbers to the peace of both nations, may 
 be entrusted with the examination of this business, that 
 so a due scrutiny may be made into the bottom of this 
 malicious contrivance, to the end both authors and 
 assistants may be the more severely punished. Unless 
 tiiis be done, neither your majesty's justice, nor the 
 honour of this republic, can be vindicated ; neither can 
 there be any stable assurance of peace between both 
 nations. We wish your majesty all things fortunate 
 and prosperous. From our palace at Whitehall, 
 August — , 1656. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Common- 
 wealth of England, &c. 
 
618 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth ©/"England, 
 ffc.y To the most Illustrious Lord, the Conde 
 d'Odemira. 
 
 Most Illustrious Lord, 
 Your singular &[^oodwiIl towards us and this republic 
 has laid no mean obligation upon us, nor slightly tied 
 us to acknowledgment. We readily perceived it by 
 your letters of the twenty-fifth of June last, as also by 
 those which \vc received from our agent Philip Mea- 
 dows, sent into Portugal to conclude the peace in 
 agitation, wherein he informed us of your extraordi- 
 nary zeal and diligence to promote the pacification, of 
 which we most joyfully received the last ratification ; 
 and we persuade ourselves, that your lordship will 
 have no cause to repent either of your pains and dili- 
 gence in procuring this peace, or of your goodwill to 
 the English, or your fidelity towards the king, your 
 sovereign ; more especially considering the great hopes 
 we have that this peace will be of high advantage to 
 both nations, and not a little inconvenient to our ene- 
 mies. The only accident that fell out unfortunate and 
 mournful in this negotiation, was that unhallowed 
 villany nefariously attempted upon the person of our 
 agent, Philip Meadows : the concealed authors of 
 which intended piece of inhumanity ought no less 
 diligently to be sought after, and made examples to 
 posterity, than the vilest of most openly detected assas- 
 sinates. Nor can we doubt in the least of your king's 
 severity and justice in the punishment of a crime so 
 horrid, nor of your care and sedulity to see, that there 
 be no remissness of prosecution, as being a person 
 bearing due veneration to the laws of God, and sanctity 
 among men, and no less zealous to maintain the peace 
 between both nations, which never can subsist if such 
 inhuman barbarities as these escape unpunished and 
 unrevenged. But your abhorrence and detestation of 
 the fact is so well known, that there is no need of in- 
 sisting any more at present upon this unpleasing sub- 
 ject. Therefore, having thus declared our goodwill 
 and affection to your lordship, of which we shall be 
 always ready to give apparent demonstrations, there 
 nothing remains, but to implore the blessings of Divine 
 favour and protection upon you, and all yours. From 
 our palace at Westminster, Aug. — , 1656. 
 
 Your lordship's most affectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Common- 
 wealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth ©/"England, 
 ffc. To tlie most Serene Prince, Charles Gustavus, 
 King of the Swedes, Goths, and Vandals, Sff. 
 
 Most Serene King, our dearest Friend 
 and Confederate ; 
 Being assured of your majesty's concurrence both in 
 thoughts and counsels for the defence of the protestant 
 faith against the enemies of it, if ever, now at this time 
 most dangerously vexatious; though we cannot but 
 rejoice at your prosperous successes, and the daily 
 
 tidings of your victories, yet on the other side we can- 
 not but be as deeply afHictcd, to meet with one thing 
 that disturbs and interrupts our joy; we mean the bad 
 news intermixed with so many welcome tidings, that 
 the ancient friendship between your majesty and the 
 States of the United Provinces looks with a dubious 
 aspect, and that the mischief is exasperated to that 
 height, especially in the Baltic sea, as seems to bode 
 an unhappy rupture. We confess ourselves ignorant 
 of the causes ; but we too easily foresee, that the events, 
 which God avert, will be fatal to the interests of the 
 protestants. And therefore, as well in respect to that 
 most strict alliance between us and your majesty, as 
 out of that affection and love to the reformed religion, 
 by which we all of us ought chiefly to be swayed, we 
 thought it our duty, as we have most earnestly exhorted 
 the States of the United Provinces to peace and mode- 
 ration, so now to persuade your majesty to the same. 
 The protestants have enemies every where enow and 
 to spare, inflamed with inexorable revenge ; they never 
 were known to have conspired more perniciously to our 
 destruction : witness the valleys of Piedmont, still reek- 
 ing with the blood and slaughter of the miserable ; 
 witness Austria, lately turmoiled with the emperor's 
 edicts and proscriptions ; witness Switzerland. But 
 to what purpose is it, in many words to call back the 
 bitter lamentations and remembrance of so man}- cala- 
 mities ? Who so ignorant, as not to know, that the 
 counsels of the Spaniards, and the Roman pontiff, for 
 these two years have filled all these places with confla- 
 grations, slaughter, and vexation of the orthodox? If 
 to these mischiefs there should happen an access of 
 dissension among protestant brethren, more especially 
 between two potent states, upon whose courage, wealth, 
 and fortitude, so far as human strength may be relied 
 upon, the support and hopes of all the reformed churches 
 depend ; of necessity the protestant religion must be in 
 great jeopardy, if not upon the brink of destruction. 
 On the other side, if the whole protestant name would 
 but observe perpetual peace among themselves with 
 that same brotherly union as becomes their profession, 
 there would be no occasion to fear, what all the arti- 
 fices or puissance of our enemies could do to hurt us 
 which our fraternal concord and harmony alone would 
 easily repel and frustrate. And therefore we most 
 earnestly request and beseech your majesty, to harbour 
 in your mind propitious thoughts of peace, and incli- 
 nations ready bent to repair the breaches of your pris- 
 tine friendship with the United Provinces, if in any 
 part it may have accidentally suffered the decays of 
 mistakes or misconstruction. If there be any thing 
 wherein our labour, our fidelity, and diligence may be 
 useful toward this composure, we offer and devote all 
 to your service. And may the God of heaven favour 
 and prosper your noble and pious resolutions, which 
 together with all felicity, and a perpetual course of, 
 victory, we cordially wish to your majesty. 
 Your majesty's most affectionate. 
 From our palace OLIVER, Protector of the Cor 
 at Westminster, monwealth of England, &o. 
 
 Aug. — , 1656. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 619 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth ©/"England, 
 Sfc, To the States j)/" Holland. 
 
 Most High and Mighty Lords, our dearest Friends; 
 
 It has been represented to us, by William Cooper, 
 a minister of London, and our countryman, that John 
 le Maire of Amsterdam, his father-in-law, about three 
 and thirty years ago devised a project, by which the 
 revenues of your republic might be very much ad- 
 vanced without any burden to the people, and made 
 an agreement with John Vandenbrook, to share be- 
 tween them the reward, which they should obtain for 
 their invention ; which was the settling of a little seal 
 to be made use of in all the provinces of your territories, 
 and for which your High and Mightinesses promised 
 to pay the said Vandenbrook and his heirs the yearly 
 sum of three thousand gilders, or three hundred English 
 pounds. Now although the use and method of this 
 little seal has been found very easy and expeditious, 
 and that ever since great incomes have thereby accrued 
 to your High and Mightinesses, and some of your pro- 
 vinces, nevertheless- nothing of the said reward, though 
 with much importunity demanded, has been paid to 
 this day ; so that the said Vandenbrook and le Maire 
 being tired out with long delays, the right of the said 
 grant is devolved to the foresaid William Cooper our 
 countryman ; who, desirous to reap the fruit of his 
 father-in-law's industry, has petitioned us, that we 
 would recommend his just demands to your High and 
 Mightinesses, which we thought not reasonable to deny 
 him. Wherefore, in most friendly wise, we request 
 your High and Mightinesses favourably to hear the 
 petition of the said William Cooper, and to take such 
 care, that the reward and stipend, so well deserved, 
 and by contract agreed and granted, may be paid him 
 annually from this time forward, together with the 
 arrears of the years already passed. Which not doubt- 
 ing but your High and Mightinesses will vouchsafe to 
 perform, as what is no more than just and becoming 
 your magnificence, we shall be ready to shew the 
 same favour to the petitions of your countrymen upon 
 any occasions of the same nature, whenever presented 
 to us. 
 
 Your High and Mightinesses most affectionate, 
 From our palace at OLIVER, Protector of the 
 
 Whitehall, Sep- Commonwealth, &c. 
 
 tember — , 1656. 
 
 Oliver, Protector 0/ the Commonwealth o/'England, 
 Src, To the most Serene Prince, Lewis, King of 
 France. 
 
 Most Serene King, our dearest Friend 
 and Confederate ; 
 Against our will it is, that we so often trouble your 
 majesty with the wrongs done by your subjects after a 
 peace so lately renewed. But as we are fully per- 
 suaded, that your majesty disapproves their being com- 
 mitted, so neither can we be wanting to the complaints 
 of our people. That the ship Anthony of Dieppe was 
 
 legally taken before the league, manifestly appears by 
 the sentence of the judges of our admiralty court. 
 Part of the lading, that is to say, four thousand hides, 
 Robert Brown, a merchant of London, fairly bought of 
 those who were entrusted with the sale, as they them- 
 selves testify. The same merchant, after the peace 
 was confirmed, carried to Dieppe about two hundred 
 of the same hides, and there having sold them to a 
 currier, thought to have received his money, but found 
 it stopped and attached in the hands of his factor ; and 
 a suit being commenced against him, he could obtain 
 no favour in that court ; wherefore, we thought it 
 proper to request your majesty, that the whole matter 
 may be referred to your council, that so the said money 
 may be discharged from an unjust and vexatious ac- 
 tion. For if acts done and adjudged before the peace 
 shall after peace renewed be called into question and 
 controversy, we must look upon assurance of treaties to 
 be a thing of little moment. Nor will there be any end 
 of these complaints, if some of these violators of leagues 
 be not made severe and timely examples to others. 
 Which we hope your majesty will speedily take into 
 your care. To whom God Almighty in the mean time 
 vouchsafe his most holy protection. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 From our palace OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 at Whitehall, monwealth of England, &c. 
 
 Sept. — , 1656. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/'England, 
 Sfc, To the most Serene Prince, John, Ki7iff of 
 Portugal. 
 
 Most Serene King, 
 The peace being happily concluded between this 
 republic and the kingdom of Portugal, and what refers 
 to trade being duly provided for and ratified, we deemed 
 it necessary to send to your majesty Thomas Maynard, 
 from whom you will receive these letters, to reside in 
 your dominions, under the character and employment 
 of a consul, and to take care of the estates and inter- 
 ests of our merchants. Now in regard it may fre- 
 quently so fall out, that he may be enforced to desire 
 the privilege of free admission to your majesty, as well 
 in matters of trade, as upon other occasions for the in- 
 terest of our republic, we make it our request to your 
 majesty, that you will vouchsafe him favourable access 
 and audience, which we shall acknowledge as a sin- 
 gular demonstration and testimony of your majesty's 
 goodwill towards us. In the mean time we beseech 
 Almighty God to bless your majesty with all prosperity. 
 From our court at Westmitister, Octob. — , 1656. 
 Your majesty's most aflTectionate, 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 monwealth of England, &c. 
 
 To the King of the Swedes. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, 
 Although your majesty's wonted and spontaneous 
 favour and goodwill toward all deserving men be such. 
 
620 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 that all recommeudations in tlieir behalf may seem 
 superfluous, yet we were unwilling' to dismiss without 
 our letters to your majesty this noble person, William 
 Vavassour, knight, serving under your banners, and 
 now returning to your majesty : which we have done 
 so much the more willingly, being informed, that for- 
 merly following your majesty's fortunate conduct, he 
 bad lost his blood in several combats, to assert the noble 
 cause for which you fight. Insomuch, that the suc- 
 ceeding kings of Swedeland, in remuneration of his 
 military skill, and bold achievements in war, rewarded 
 him with lands and annual pensions, as the guerdons 
 of his prowess. Nor do wc question, but that he may 
 be of great use to your majesty in your present ware, 
 who has been so long conspicuous for his fidelity and 
 experience in military' affaire. It is our desire there- 
 fore, that he ma}' be recommended to 3'our majesty 
 according to his merits ; and we also further request, 
 that he may be paid the arreare due to him. This, as 
 it will be most acceptable to us, so we shall be ready 
 upon the like occasion, whenever offered, to gratify 
 your majesty, to whom we wish all happiness and 
 prosperity. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 monwealth of England, &c. 
 
 Ou\EK, Protector of the Commonwealth o/'England, 
 Sfc, To the most Serene Prince, John, King of 
 Portugal. 
 
 Most Serene King, our dearest Friend 
 and Confederate ; 
 Thomas Evans, a master of a ship, and our coun- 
 tryman, has presented to us a petition, wherein he sets 
 forth, that in the years 1649 and 1650 he served the 
 Brasile company with his ship the Scipio, being a ves- 
 sel of four hundred tons, and of which he was master; 
 that the said ship was taken from him, with all the 
 lading and furniture, by your majesty's command ; by 
 which he has received great damage, besides the loss 
 of six yeare gain arising out of such a stock. The 
 commissioners by the league appointed on both sides 
 for the deciding controvereies valued the whole at 
 seven thousand of our pounds, or twice as many mil- 
 rcys of Portugal money, as they made their report to 
 us. Which loss failing so heavy upon the foresaid 
 Thomas, and being constrained to make a voyage to 
 Lisbon for the recovery of his estate, he humbly be- 
 sought us, that wc would grant him our lettere to your 
 majesty in favour of bis demands. — We, tlierefore, 
 (although we wrote the last year in the behalf of our 
 merchants in general to whom the Brasile company 
 was indebted, nevertheless that we may not be want- 
 ing to any that implore our aid,) request your majesty, 
 in regard to that friendship which is between us, that 
 consideration may be had of this man in particular, 
 and that your majesty would give such ordcre to 
 all your ministere and officere, that no obstacle may 
 hinder him from demanding and recovering without 
 delay what is owing to him from the Brasile company, 
 
 or any other persons. God Almighty bless your ma 
 jesty with perpetual felicity, and grant that our friend 
 ship may long endure. 
 
 From our palace at Westminster, Octob. — , 16;>6. 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protectorof the Common" 
 wealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/*Enolani 
 &c.. To the Illustrious and Magnificent Senate <j| 
 Hamborouoh. 
 
 Most Noble, Magnificent, and Riglit Worshipful; 
 
 James and Patrick Hays, subjects of this common' 
 wealth, have made grievous complaint before us. Thai 
 they, being lawful heirs of their brother Alexander wh< 
 died intestate, were so declared by a sentence of youi 
 court pronounced in their behalf against their brother'i 
 widow; and the estates of their deceased brother, toge 
 ther with the profits, only the widow's dowry except* 
 ed, being adjudged to them by virtue of that sentence: 
 nevertheless, to this very day they could never reaj 
 any benefit of their pains and expenses in obtaining 
 the said judgment, notwithstanding their own declared 
 right, and letters formerly written by King Charles ii 
 their behalf; for that the great power and wealth o] 
 Albert van Eyzen, one of your chief magistrates, and 
 with whom the greatest part of the goods was depo> 
 sited, was an opposition too potent for them to sur- 
 mount, while he strove all that in him lay that the 
 goods might not be restored to the heire. Thus disap- 
 pointed and tired out with delays, and at length re- 
 duced to utmost poverty, they are become suppliants to 
 us, that we would not foreake them, wronged and op- 
 pressed as they are in a confederated city. We there- 
 fore, believing it to be a chief part of our duty, not to 
 suffer any countryman of oure in vain to desire our pa- 
 tronage and succour in distress, make this request to 
 your lordships, which we are apt to think we may 
 easily obtain from your city. That the sentence pro- 
 nounced in behalf of the two brothers may be ratified 
 and duly executed, according to the intents and pur- 
 poses for which it was given ; and that you will not 
 suffer any longer delay of justice, by an appeal to the 
 chamber of Spire, upon any pretence whatever: for we 
 have required the opinions of our lawyers, which we 
 have sent to your lordships fairly written and signed. 
 But if entreaty and fair means will nothing avail, of 
 necessity (and which is no more than according to the 
 customary law of nations, though we are unwilling to 
 come to that extremity) the severity of retaliation must 
 take its couree; which we hope your prudence will 
 take care to prevent. From our palace at Westmin- 
 ster, Octob. 16, 1656. 
 
 Your lordship's most affectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Common- 
 wealth of England, &c. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 621 
 
 i OtivER, Protector of the Commonwealth ©/"England, 
 St., To the most Serene and Potent Lewis, King of 
 France. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, our dearest 
 Friend and Confederate ; 
 We are apt to believe, that your majesty received 
 ' Our letters dated the 14th of May, of the last year, 
 wherein we wrote that John Dcthic, mayor of London 
 that year, and William Waterford, merchant, had by 
 their petition set forth, That a certain vessel called the 
 Jonas, freighted with goods upon their account, and 
 bound for Dunkirk, then under the jurisdiction of the 
 French, was taken at the very mouth of the Thames, 
 by a searover, pretending a commission from the son 
 of the late King Charles : which being directly con- 
 trary to your edicts and the decrees of your council, 
 that no English ship, taken by the enemies of the par- 
 liament, should be admitted into any of your ports, 
 and there put to sale, they demanded restitution of the 
 said sliip and goods from M. Lestrade, then governor 
 of the town, who returned them an answer no way be- 
 coming a person of his quality, or who pretended obe- 
 dience to his sovereign ; That the government was 
 conferred upon him for his good service in the wars, 
 and therefore he would make his best advantage of it, 
 that is to say, by right or wrong ; for that he seemed 
 to drive at: as if he had received that government of 
 3'our majesty's free gift, to authorize him in the rob- 
 bing your confederates, and contemning your edicts 
 set forth in their favour. For what the King of France 
 forbids his subjects any way to have a band in, that 
 the king's governor has not only suffered to be com- 
 mitted in 3'our ports, but he himself becomes the pi- 
 rate, seizes the prey, and openly avouches the fact. 
 With this answer therefore the merchants departed, 
 altogether baffled and disappointed ; and this we sig- 
 nified by our letters to your majesty the last year with 
 little better success ; for as yet we have received no re- 
 ply to those letters. Of which we are apt to believe 
 the reason was, because the governor was with the 
 army in Flanders ; but now he resides at Paris, or ra- 
 ther flutters unpunished about the city, and at court, 
 enriched with the spoils of our merchants. Once more 
 therefore we make it our request to your majesty, 
 which it is your majesty's interest in the first place to 
 take care of, that no person whatever may dare to jus- 
 tify the wrongs done to your majesty's confederates by 
 the contempt of your ro^'al edicts. Nor can this cause 
 be properly referred to the commissioners appointed for 
 deciding common controversies on both sides; since in 
 this case not only the rights of confederates, but your 
 authority itself, and the veneration due to the royal 
 name, are chiefly in dispute. And it would be a won- 
 der, that merchants should be more troubled for their 
 losses, than your majesty provoked at encroachments 
 upon your honour. Which while you disdain to brook, 
 with the same labour you will demonstrate, that you 
 neither repent of your friendly edicts in favour of our 
 republic, nor connived at the injuries done by your 
 
 subjects, nor neglected to give due respect to our de- 
 mands. From our court at Westminster, Novemb. — , 
 1656. 
 
 Your majesty's most bounden by goodwill, 
 by friendship and solemn league, 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Commonwealth, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/England, 
 SfC, To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Frede- 
 ric III., Kinff of Denmark, Norway, the Vandals, 
 and Goths ; Duke of Sleswic, Holsatia, Stor- 
 MATiA, and DiTHMARSH ; Count in Oldenburgh 
 and Delmenhorst ; Sec. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, our dearest 
 Friend and Confederate; 
 We received your majesty's letters dated the 16th of 
 February, from Copenhagen, by the most worthy Si- 
 mon de Pitkum, your majesty's agent here residing. 
 Which when we had perused, the demonstrations of 
 your majesty's goodwill towards us, and the impor- 
 tance of the matter concerning which you write, affected 
 us to that degree, that we designed forthwith to send 
 to your majesty some person, who being furnished with 
 ample instructions from us, might more at large dechire 
 to your majesty our counsels in that affair. And though 
 we have still the same resolutions, yet hitherto we have 
 not been at leisure to think of a person proper to be 
 entrusted with those commands, which the weight of 
 the matter requires ; though in a short time we hope to 
 be more at liberty. In the mean while we thought it 
 not convenient any longer to delay the letting your 
 majesty understand, that the present condition of affairs 
 in Europe has employed the greatest part of our care 
 and thoughts ; while for some years, to our great grief, 
 we have beheld the protestant princes, and supreme 
 magistrates of the reformed republics, (whom it rather 
 behoves, as being engaged by the common tic of reli- 
 gion and safety, to combine and study all the ways 
 imaginable conducing to mutual defence,) more and 
 more at weakening variance among themselves, and 
 jealous of each other's actions and designs; putting 
 their friends in fear, their enemies in hope, that the 
 posture of affairs bodes rather enmity and discord, than 
 a firm agreement of mind to defend and assist each 
 other. And this solicitude has fixed itself so much the 
 deeper in our thouglits, in regard there seems to appear 
 some sparks of jealousy between your majesty and the 
 king of Sweden; at least, that there is not that con- 
 junction of affections, which our love and goodwill in 
 general toward the orthodox religion so importunately 
 requires : your majesty, perhaps, suspecting that the 
 trade of your dominions will be prejudiced by the king 
 of Sweden ; and on the other side, the king of Sweden 
 being jealous, that by your means the war which he 
 now wages is made more difficult, and that you oppose 
 him in his contracting those alliances which he seeks. 
 It is not unknown to your majesty, so eminent for 
 your profound wisdom, how great the danger is that 
 threatens the protestant religion, should such suspicions 
 long continue between two such potent monarchs ; 
 
622 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 more especially, which God avert, if any symptom of 
 hostility should break forth. However it be, for our 
 parts, as we have earnestly exhorted the king of Swe- 
 den, and the states of the United Provinces to peace, 
 and moderate counsels, (and are bej'ond expression 
 glad to behold peace and concord renewed between 
 them, for that the heads of that league are transmitted 
 to us by their lordships the states-general,) so we 
 thought it our duty, and chiefly becoming our friend- 
 ship, not to conceal from your majesty what our senti- 
 ments are concerning these matters, (more especially 
 being aflTectionately invited so to do by your majesty's 
 most friendly letters, which we look upon, and embrace, 
 as a most singular testimony of your goodwill towards 
 us,) but to lay before your eyes how great a necessity 
 Divine Providence has imposed upon us all that profess 
 the protestant religion, to study peace among ourselves, 
 and that chiefly at this time, when our most embittered 
 euemies seem to have on every side conspired our de- 
 struction. There is no necessity of calling to remem- 
 brance the valleys of Piedmont still besmeared with 
 the blood and slaui^hter of the miserable inhabitants ; 
 nor Austria, tormented at the same time with the em- 
 peror's decrees and proscriptions; nor the impetuous 
 onsets of the popish upon the protestant Switzers. Who 
 can be ignorant, that the artifices and machinations of 
 the Spaniards, for some years last past, have filled all 
 these places with the confused and blended havoc of 
 fire and sword ? To which unfortunate pile of miseries, 
 if once the reformed brethren should come to add their 
 own dissensions among themselves, and more espe- 
 cially two such potent monarchs, the chiefest part of 
 our strength, and among whom so large a provision of 
 the protestant security and puissance lies stored and 
 boarded up against times of danger, most certainly the 
 interests of the protestants must go to ruin, and suff'er 
 a total and irrecoverable eclipse. On the other side, if 
 peace continue firmly fixed between two such powerful 
 neighbours, and the rest of the orthodox princes; if we 
 would but make it our main study, to abide in bro- 
 therly concord, there would be no cause, by God's 
 assistance, to fear neither the force nor the subtilty of 
 our enemies ; all whose endeavours and laborious toils 
 our union alone would be able to dissipate and frus- 
 trate. Nor do we question, but that your majesty, as 
 you are freely willing, so your willingness will be con- 
 stant in contributing your utmost assistance, to procure 
 this blessed peace. To which purpose we shall be 
 most ready to communicate and join our counsels with 
 your majesty ; professing a real and cordial friendship, 
 and not only determined inviolably to observe the 
 amity so auspiciously contracted between us, but, as 
 God shall enable us, to bind our present alliance with 
 a more strict and fraternal bond. In the mean time, 
 the same eternal God grant all things prosperous and 
 successful to your majesty. 
 
 Your majesty's most closely united by friendship, 
 alliance, and goodwill, 
 From our court OLIVER, Protector of the 
 
 at Whilehall, Commonwealth of Eng- 
 
 Dec. — , 1666. land, itc. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/*Enoland, 
 !fc.. To the most Serene and Illustrious Prince and 
 Lord, the Lord William, Landgrave of Hesse, 
 Prince o/*Herefeldt, Count in Cutzenellebogen, 
 Decia Liqenhain, Widda, and Schaunburo, ^c. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, 
 We had returned an answer to your letters sent us 
 now near a twelvemonth since, for which we beg your 
 highness's pardon, had not many, and those the most 
 important aflairs of the republic under our care, con- 
 strained us to this unwilling silence. For what letters 
 could be more grateful to us, than those which are 
 written from a most religious prince, descended from 
 religious ancestors, in order to settle the peace of re- 
 ligion, and the harmony of the church ? which letters 
 attribute to us the same inclinations, the same zeal to 
 promote the peace of Christendom, not only in your 
 own but in the opinion and judgment of almost all the 
 christian world, and which we are most highly glad to 
 find so universally ascribed to ourselves. And how 
 far our endeavours have been signal formerly through- 
 out these three kingdoms, and what we have effected 
 by our exhortations, by our suflferings, by our conduct, 
 but chiefly by divine assistance, the greatest part of our 
 people both well know, and are sensible of, in a deep 
 tranquillity of their consciences. The same peace we 
 have wished to the churches of Germany, whose dis- 
 sensions have been too sharp, and of too long endur- 
 ance ; and by our agent Dury for many years in vain 
 endeavouring the same reconciliation, we have cordially 
 offered whatever might conduce on our part to the 
 same purpose. We still persevere in the same deter- 
 minations, and wish the same fraternal chaiity one 
 among another, to those churches. But how difficult 
 a task it is to settle peace among those sons of peace, 
 as they give out themselves to be, to our extreme grief 
 we more than abundantly understand. For that the 
 reformed, and those of the Augustan confession, should 
 cement together in a communion of one church, is 
 hardly ever to be expected : it is impossible by force 
 to prohibit either from defending their opinions, whether 
 in private disputes, or by public writings ; for force 
 can never consist with ecclesiastical tranquillity. This 
 only were to be wished, that they who diflTer, would 
 suffer themselves to be entreated, that they would dis- 
 agree more civilly, and with more moderation ; and 
 notwithstanding their disputes, love one another ; not 
 embittered against each other as enemies, but as bre- 
 thren dissenting only in trifles, though in the funda- 
 mentals of faith most cordially agreeing. With incul- 
 cating and persuading these things, we shall never be 
 wearied ; beyond that, there is nothing allowed to 
 human force or counsels: God will accomplish his own 
 work in his own time. In the mean while, you, most 
 serene prince, have left behind you a noble testimony 
 of your affection to the churches, an eternal monument 
 becoming the virtue of your ancestors, and an exem- 
 plar worthy to ht; followed by all princes. It only then 
 remains for us to implore the merciful and great Gud 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 623 
 
 to crown jour highness with all the prosperity in other 
 tiling's which you can wish for; but not to change 
 I your mind, than which you cannot have a better, since 
 a better cannot be, nor more piously devoted to his 
 glory. 
 
 Westminster, Marcli — , 1656. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth q/*ENGLAND, 
 ^c, To the most Serene Prince, the Duke of CovR- 
 
 LAND. 
 
 I^L Most Serene Prince, 
 
 i|^*We have been abundantly satisfied of your affection 
 to us, as well at other times, as when you kindly enter- 
 tained our embassador in his journey to the duke of 
 Muscovy, for some days together making a stop in 
 your territories : now we are no less confident, that 
 your highness will give us no less obliging testimonies 
 of your justice and equity, as well out of your own 
 goodnature, as at our request. For we are given to 
 understand, that one John Johnson, a Scotsman, and 
 master of a certain ship of yours, having faithfully dis- 
 charged his duty for seven years together in the service 
 of your highness, as to your highness is well known, 
 at length delivered the said ship, called the Whale, in 
 the mouth of the river, according as tlie custom is, to 
 one of your pilots, by him to be carried safe into har- 
 bour. But it so fell out, that the pilot, being ignorant 
 of his duty, though frequently warned and admonished 
 by the said Johnson, as he has proved by several wit- 
 nesses, the said ship ran aground and split to pieces, 
 not through any fault of the master, but through the 
 want of skill, or obstinacy of the pilot. Which being 
 so, we make it our earnest request to your highness, 
 that neither the said shipwreck may be imputed to the 
 forementioned Johnson the master, nor that be may 
 upon that account be deprived of the wages due to 
 bira; by the only enjoyment of which, he having lately 
 suffered another misfortune at sea, he hopes however 
 to support and comfort himself in the extremity of his 
 wants. 
 
 From our court at Westminster, 
 March -^, 1667. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth ©/"England, 
 Sfc, To the most Noble the Consuls and Senators of 
 the Republic o/Dantzick. 
 
 Most Noble and Magnificent, our dearest Friends ; 
 
 We have always esteemed your city flourishing in in- 
 dustry, wealth, and studious care to promote all useful 
 arts and sciences, fit to be compared with any the most 
 noble cities of Europe. Now in regard that in this 
 war, that has been long hovering about your confines, 
 you have rather chosen to side with the Polanders, 
 than with the Swedes ; we are most heartily desirous, 
 that for the sake of that religion which you embrace, 
 and of your ancient commerce with the English, you 
 would chiefly adhere to those counsels, which may 
 prove most agreeable to the glory of God, and the 
 dignity and splendour of your city. Wherefore we en- 
 
 treat ye, for the sake of that friendship which has been 
 long established between yourselves and the English 
 nation, and if our reputation have obtained any favour 
 or esteem among ye, to set at liberty Count Conis- 
 mark, conspicuous among the principal of the Swedish 
 captains, and a person singularly famed for his con- 
 duct in war, but by the treachery of his own people 
 surprised at sea; wherein you will do no more than 
 what the laws of war, not yet exasperated to the 
 height, allow; or if you think this is not so agreeable 
 to your interests, that you will howevcrdeem him wor- 
 thy a more easy and less severe confinement. Which 
 of these two favours soever you shall determine to 
 grant us, you will certainly perform an act becoming 
 the reputation of your city, and highly oblige besides 
 the most famous warriors and most eminent captains 
 of all parties : and lastly, lay upon ourselves an obli- 
 gation not the meanest ; and perhaps it may be worth 
 your interest to gratify us. 
 
 From our Court at West- Your lordship's affection- 
 minster, April—, 1656. ate, OLIVER, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/ England, 
 Scotland, and Ireland, Sfc, To the most Serene 
 and Potent Prince and Lord, Emperor and Great 
 Duke of all Russia; sole Lord q/" Volodomaria, 
 Moscow and Novograge; King of Cazan, Astra- 
 can, and Siberia ; Lord of Yobscow, Great Duke 
 q/" Smolensko, Tuerscoy, and other Places ; Lord 
 and Great Duke of No\OGROD, and the Lower Pro- 
 vinces of C hers iGov, Rezansco, and others; Lord 
 of all the Northern Climes; also Lord of Ever- 
 sco, Cartalinsca, a7id many other Places. 
 
 All men know how ancient the friendship, and how 
 vast the trade h.is been for a long train of years be- 
 tween the English nation and the people of your em- 
 pire : but that singular virtue, most August Emperor, 
 which in your majesty far outshines the glory of your 
 ancestors, and the high opinion which all the neigh- 
 bouring princes have of it, more especially moves us to 
 pay a more than ordinary veneration and afl'ection to 
 your majesty, and to desire the imparting of some 
 things to your consideration, which may conduce to 
 the good of Christendom and j-our own interests. 
 Wherefore, we have sent the most accomplished 
 Richard Bradshaw, a person of whose fidelity, inte- 
 grity, prudence, and experience in affairs, we are well 
 assured, as having been employed by us in several 
 other negotiations of this nature, under the character 
 of our agent to your majesty ; to the end he may more 
 at large make known to your majesty our singular 
 goodwill and high respect toward so puissant a mo- 
 narch, and transact with your majesty concerning the 
 matters abovementioned. Him therefore we request 
 your majesty favourably to receive in our name, and 
 as often as shall be requisite to grant him free access 
 to your person, and no less gracious audience; and 
 lastly, to give the same credit to him in all things 
 which he shall propose or negotiate, as to ourselves, if 
 we were personally present. And so we beseech Al- 
 
624 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 mig'htj God to bless your majesty and the Russian em- 
 pire with all prosperity. 
 
 Your majesty's most affectionate, 
 From our Court OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 at Westminster, monwealtb of England, &c. 
 
 April — , 1657. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth q/*ENGLAND, 
 JTc, 7'o the most Serene and Potent Prince, Charles 
 GusTATDS, King of the Swedes, Goths, and Van- 
 dals, Sf^c. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, our dearest 
 Friend and Confederate ; 
 The most honourable William Jepson, colonel of 
 horse, and a senator in our parliament, who will have 
 the honour to deliver these letters to your majesty, will 
 make known to your majesty, with what disturbance 
 and jp-icf of mind we received the news of the fatal 
 war broke out between your majesty and the King- of 
 Denmark, and how much it is our cordial and real en- 
 deavour, not to nejflect any labour or duty of ours, as 
 far as God enables us, that some speedy remedy may 
 be applied to this growing mischief, and those calami- 
 ties averted, which of necessity this war will bring 
 upon the common cause of religion ; more especially 
 at this time, now that our adversaries unite their forces 
 and pernicious counsels against the profession and pro- 
 fessors of the orthodox faith. These and some other 
 considerations of great importance to the benefit and 
 public interest of both nations, have induced us to send 
 this gentleman to your majesty, under the character of 
 our extraordinary envoy. Whom ^'^ therefore desire 
 your majesty kindly to receive, and to give credit to 
 him in all things, which he shall have to impart to your 
 majesty in our name; as being a person in whose fide- 
 lity and prudence we very much confide. We also 
 farther request. That your majesty will be pleased 
 fully to assure yourself of our goodwill and most un- 
 doubted zeal, as well toward your majesty, as for the 
 prosperity of your affairs. Of which we shall be rea- 
 dily prepared with all imaginable willingness of mind 
 to give unquestionable testimonies upon all occasions. 
 From our court at Westminster, August — , 1657. 
 Your majesty's friend, and most strictly 
 counited confederate, 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Common- 
 wealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/'England, 
 !)'c., To the most Serene Prince, the Lord Frederic 
 William, Mar/j'Mi.so/'BRANDENBURGH, High Cham- 
 berlain of the Imperial Empire, and Prince Elector, 
 Duke of Magdeburg, Prussia, Jumers, Cleves, 
 MoNTs, Stettin, Pomerania, of the Cassiubians 
 and Vandals, as also o/Silesia, Crosna, afid Car- 
 NoviA, Burgrave of Norrinburo, Prince of Hal- 
 berstadt onrf Minua, Count o/Mark and Ravens- 
 bero. Lord in Ravenstein. 
 
 I 
 
 Most Serene Prince, our dearest Friend 
 and Confederate; 
 Such is the fame of your highness's virtue and pru" 
 dence both in peace and war, and so loudly spread 
 through all the world, that all the princes round about 
 are ambitious of your friendship ; nor does any one de- 
 sire a more faithful or constant friend and associate : 
 therefore to the end your highness may know, that we 
 are also in the number of those that have the highest 
 and most honourable thoughts of your person and me- 
 rits, so well deserving of the connnonwealth of Chris- 
 tendom ; we have sent the most worthy colonel Wil- 
 liam Jepson, a senator in our parliament, in our name 
 to kiss your highness's hands ; and withal to wisii the 
 continuance of all prosperity to your affairs, and in 
 words at large to express our goodwill and affection to 
 your serenity; and therefore make it our request, That 
 you will vouchsafe to give him credit in those matters 
 concerning which he has instructions to treat with your 
 highness, as if all things were attested and confirmed 
 by our personal presence. From our court at White- 
 hall, August — , 1657. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/England, 
 <^c., To the most Noble the Consuls and Senators of 
 the city o/*Hamborough. 
 
 Most Noble, most Magnificent, and Worthy, 
 
 The most accomplished colonel William Jepson, a 
 senator in our parliament, being sent by us to the most 
 serene king of Sweden, is to travel through your city ; 
 and therefore we have given him in command, not to 
 pass by your lordships unsaluted in our name; and 
 withal to make it our request. That you will be ready 
 to assist him upon whatsoever occasion he shall tliiiik 
 it requisite to crave the aid of your authority and coun- 
 sel. Which the more willingly you shall do, the more 
 you shall find you have acquired our favour. 
 From our court at Westminster, Aug. — , 1657. 
 
 To the most Noble, the Consuls and Senators of the 
 city ©/"Breme. 
 
 How great our affection is toward your city, how 
 particular our goodwill, as well upon the account ot 
 your religion, as for the celebrated splendour of your 
 city, as formerly you have found ; so when occasion 
 offers, you shall be further sensible. At present, in re- 
 gard the most accomplished colonel William Jepson, a 
 senator in our parliament, is to travel through Bremen 
 with the character of our envoy extraordinary to the 
 king of Sweden, it is our pleasure that he salute your 
 lordships lovingly and friendly in our name ; and that 
 if any accident fall out, wherein your assistance and 
 friendship may be serviceable to him, that he may 
 have free admission to desire it, upon the score of our 
 alliance. Wherein we are confident you will the less 
 be wanting, by how much the more reason you will 
 have to be assured of our singular love and kindness 
 for your lordships. From our court at Whitehall, 
 Aug. — , 1657. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 625 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/"Engi,and, 
 8)-c. To the most Noble the Senators and Consuls of 
 the City o/Lubeck. 
 
 Most Noble, Magnificent, and Right 
 
 Worshipful, our dearest Friends ; 
 
 Colonel William Jepson, a person of great honour, 
 and a senator in our parliament, is to pass with the 
 character of a public minister from your city to the 
 king of Sweden, encamping not far from it. Where- 
 fore we desire your lordships, that if occasion require, 
 upon the account of the friendship and commerce be- 
 tween us, you will be assistant to him in his journey 
 through your city, and the territories under your juris- 
 diction. As to what remains, it is our farther pleasure, 
 that you be saluted in our name, and that you be as- 
 sured of our goodwill and ready inclinations to serve 
 your lordships. From our court at Westminster, Au- 
 gust — , 1667. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/" England, 
 Sf-c, To the City o/HAMBOROtcH. 
 
 Most Noble, Magnificent, and Right Worshipful ; 
 
 Philip Meadows, who brings these letters to your 
 lordships, is to travel through your city with the cha- 
 racter of our agent to the king of Denmark. Therefore 
 we most earnestly recommend him to your lordships, 
 that if any occasion should happen for him to desire it, 
 you would be ready to aid him with your authority and 
 assistance : and we desire that this our recommenda- 
 tion may have the same weight at present with your 
 lordships as formerly it wont to have ; nor shall we be 
 wanting to your lordships upon the same op])ortunities. 
 From our court at Whitehall, August — , 1657. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of Y.^gi^k^d, 
 <S*c., To the most Serene Prijice, Frederic, Heir of 
 Norway, Duhe of Sleswic, Holsatia, and Dit- 
 MARSH, Count in Oldenburgh anrf Delmenhorst. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, our dearest Friend ; 
 Colonel William Jepson, a person truly noble in 
 his country, and a senator in our parliament, is sent by 
 us, as our envoy extraordinary to the most serene king 
 of Sweden ; and may it prove happy and prosperous 
 for the common peace and interests of Christendom ! 
 We have given him instructions, among other things, 
 that in his journey, after he has kissed your serenity's 
 hands in our name, and declared our former goodwill 
 and constant zeal for your welfare, to request of your 
 serenity also, that being guarded with your authority, 
 he may travel with safety and convenience through 
 your territories. By which kind act of civility, your 
 highness will in a greater measure oblige us to returns 
 of answerable kindness. From our court at Westmin- 
 ster, Any. — , 1657. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/ England, 
 ^c. To the most Serene Prince, Ferdinand, Great 
 Duke o/" Tuscany. 
 
 Most Serene Great Duke, our dearest Friend ; 
 The company of our merchants trading to the eastern 
 coasts of tht> Mediterranean sea, by their petition to us, 
 have set forth, that William Ellis, master of a ship 
 called the Little Lewis, being at Alexandria in Egypt, 
 was hired by the Basha of Memj)his, to carry rice, 
 sugar, and coflte, either to Constantinople or Smyrna, 
 for the use of the Grand Seignior ; but that contrary 
 to his faith and promise given, he bore away privately 
 from the Ottoman fleet, and brought his ship and lading 
 to Leghorn, where now he lives in possession of his 
 prey. Which villanous act being of dangerous exam- 
 ple, as exposing the Christian name to scandal, and 
 the fortunes of our merchants living under the Turks 
 to violence and ransac ; we therefore make it our 
 request to your highness, that you will give command, 
 that the said master be apprehended and imprisoned, 
 and that the vessel and goods may remain under 
 seizure, till we shall have given notice of our care for 
 the restitution of those goods to the sultan : assuring 
 your highness of our readiness to make suitable re- 
 turns of gratitude, whenever opportunity presents itself. 
 From our court at Westminster, September — , 1657. 
 Your highness's most afTectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Common- 
 wealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protectoyjjfthe Commonwealth o/* England, 
 Si'c, To the most Serene Prince, the Lord Frederic- 
 William, Marquis o/Brandenburgh, ^c. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, our most dear 
 Friend and Confederate ; 
 By our last letters to your highness, either already 
 or shortly to be delivered by our embassador William 
 Jepson, we have imparted the substance of our em- 
 bassy to your highness ; which we could not do with- 
 out some mention of your great virtues, and demonstra- 
 tion of our own goodwill and affection. Nevertheless, 
 that we may not seem too superficially to have gilded 
 over your transcending deservings of the protestant 
 interests; we thought it proper to resume the same 
 subject, and pay our respect and veneration, not 
 more willingly, or with a greater fervency of mind, 
 but somewhat more at large to your highness : and 
 truly most deservedly, when daily information reaches 
 our ears, that your faith and conscience, by all man- 
 ner of artifices tempted and assailed, by all manner of 
 arts and devices solicited, yet cannot be siiaken, or by 
 any violence be rent from your friendship and alliance 
 with a most magnanimous prince and your confederate : 
 and this, when the affuirs of the Swedes are now 
 reduced to that condition, that in adhering to their 
 alliance, it is manifest, that your highness rather con- 
 sults the common cause of the reformed religion, than 
 your own advantage. And when your highness is 
 
626 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 almost surrounded and besieged by enemies either pri- 
 Tately lurking, or almost at your gates; yet sucb is 
 your constancy and resolution of mind, such your con- 
 duct and prowess becoming a great general, that the 
 burthen and massy bulk of the whole affair, and the 
 event of this important war, seems to rest and depend 
 upon your sole determination. Wherefore your high- 
 ness has no reason to question, but that you may rely 
 upon our friendship and unfeigned affection ; who 
 should think ourselves worthy to be forsaken of all 
 men's good word, should we seem careless in the least 
 of 3'our unblemished fidelity, your constancy, and the 
 rest of your applauded virtues; or should we pay less 
 respect to your highness upon the common score of 
 religion. As to those matters propounded by the most 
 accomplished John Frederic Schlever, your counsellor 
 and agent here residing, if hitherto we could not re- 
 turn an answer, such as we desired to do, though with 
 all assiduity and diligence laboured by your agent; 
 we entreat your highness to impute it to the present 
 condition of our affairs, and to be assured, that there 
 is nothing which we account more sacred, or more 
 earnestly desire, than to be serviceable and assisting 
 to your interests, so bound up with the cause of reli- 
 gion. In the mean time we beseech the God of 
 mercy and power, that so signal a prowess and for- 
 titude may never languish or be oppressed, nor be 
 deprived the fruit and due applause of all your pious 
 undertakings. From our court at Westminster, Sep- 
 tember — , 1657. 
 
 Your highness's most affectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Common- 
 wealth of England, &c. 
 
 To the most Excellent Lord, M. De Bordeaux, Ex- 
 traordinary Embassador from, the most Serene King 
 oy* France. 
 
 Most Excellent Lord, 
 Lucas Lucie, merchant of London, has made 
 bis complaint to the most serene lord protector, con- 
 cerning a certain ship of his, called the Mary ; which 
 in her voyage from Ireland to Bayonne, being driven 
 by tempest into the port of St. John de Luz, was there 
 detained by virtue of an arrest, at the suit of one Mar- 
 tin de Lazan : nor could she be discharged, till the 
 merchants had given security to stand a trial for the 
 property of the said ship and lading. For Martin 
 pretended to have a great sum of money owing to 
 him by the parliament for several goods of his, which 
 in the year 1642 were seized by authority of parlia- 
 ment, in a certain ship called the Sancta Clara. But 
 it is manifest, that Martin was not the owner of the 
 said goods, only that be prosecuted the claim of tbe 
 true owner Richald and Iriat, together with his part- 
 ner, whose name was Antonio Fernandez ; and that 
 upon the said Martin and Antonio's falling out among 
 themselves, tbe parliament decreed, that the said goods 
 should be stopped till the law should decide to which 
 of the two they were to be restored. Upon this, An- 
 thony was desirous, that the action should proceed ; on 
 
 the other side, neither Martin, nor any body for him, 
 has hitherto appeared in court: all which is. evidently 
 apparent by Lucas's petition hereto annexed. So that 
 it seems most unreasonable, that he who refused to 
 try his pretended title with Antonio, to other men's 
 goods, in our own courts, should compel our people, 
 and the true owners, to go to law for their own in a 
 foreign dominion. And that the same is apparent to 
 your excellency's equity and prudence, the most serene 
 lord protector makes no quest on ; by whom I am 
 therefore commanded in a particular manner, to recom- 
 mend this fair and honest cause of Lucas Lucie to your 
 excellency's consideration ; to the end that Martin, 
 who neglects to try his pretended right here, may not 
 under that pretence have an opportunity in the 
 French dominions to deprive others of their rightful 
 claims. 
 
 Westminster, Your excellency's most affectionate. 
 October— ,1657. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, 
 ^c. To the most Serene Duke and Senate of the Re- 
 public q/*VENICE. 
 
 Most Serene Duke and Senate, our dearest Friends ; 
 
 So numerous are the tidings brought us from your 
 fortunate successes against the Turks, that there is no- 
 thing wherein we have more frequent occasion to em- 
 ploy our pens, than in congratulating your serenities 
 for some signal victory. For this so recently obtained, 
 we give ye joy, as being not only most auspicious and 
 seasonable to your republic ; but, which is more glori- 
 ous, so greatly tending to the deliverance of all the 
 Christians groaning under Turkish servitude. More 
 particularly we recommend to your serenity and the 
 senate Thomas Galily, formerly master of tbe ship 
 called the Relief, who for these five j'ears together has 
 been a slave ; though this be not the first time we have 
 interceded in his behalf, yet now we do it the more 
 freely, as in a time of more than ordinary exultation. 
 He having received your commands, to serve your re- 
 public with his ship, and engaging alone with several 
 of the enemies' galleys, sunk some, and made a great 
 havoc among the rest : but at length his ship being 
 burnt, the brave commander, and so well deserving of 
 the Venetian republic, was taken, and ever since for 
 five years together has endured a miserable bondage 
 among the barbarians. To redeem himself he bad not 
 wherewithal ; for whatsoever be had, that be makes 
 out was owing to him by your highness and the senate, 
 upon the account either of his ship, his goods, or for 
 his wa'i^es. Now in regard he may not want relief, 
 and for that the enemy refuses to discharge him upon 
 any other condition, than by exchange of some other 
 person of equal value and reputation to himself; we 
 most earnestly entreat your highness, and the most se- 
 rene senate ; and the afflicted old man, father of the 
 said Thomas, full of grief and tears, which not a little 
 moved us, by our intercession begs, that in regard so 
 many prosperous combats have made ye masters of so 
 many Turkish prisoners, you will exchange some one 
 
LETTERS OF STAT^). 
 
 627 
 
 of their number, whom the enemy will accept for so 
 stout a seaman taken in your service, our countryman, 
 and the only son of a most sorrowful father. Lastly, 
 that whatsoever is due to him from the republic, upon 
 the score of wag'es, or upon any other account, you 
 will take care to see it paid to his father, or to whom 
 be shall appoint to receive it. The effect of our first 
 request, or rather of your equity, was this, that the 
 whole matter was examined, and upon an exact stating^ 
 of the accounts the debt was ag^reed ; but perhaps hy 
 reason of more important business intervening', no pay- 
 ment ensued upon it. Now the condition of the mise- 
 rable creature admits of no longer delay ; and therefore 
 some endeavour must be used, if it be worth your while 
 to desire his welfare, that he may speedily be delivered 
 from the noisome stench of imprisonment. Which, as 
 you flourish no less injustice, moderation, and prudence, 
 than in military fame and victorious success, we are 
 confident you will see done, of your own innate hu- 
 manity and freewill, without any hesitation, without 
 any incitement of ours. Now that you may long flou- 
 rish, after a most potent enemy subdued, our daily 
 prayers implore of the Almighty. From our court at 
 Westminster, October — , 1657. 
 
 Your bighness's most affectionate, 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 monwealth of England, &c. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, 
 4"c., To the High and Mighty Lords, the States of 
 the United Provinces. 
 
 Most High and Mighty Lords, our dearest 
 Friends and Confederates ; 
 The most illustrious William Nuport, your extraor- 
 dinary embassador for some years residing with us, is 
 now returning to your lordships ; but with this condi- 
 tion, that after this respite obtained from your lordships, 
 he shall return again in a short time. For he has re- 
 mained among us, in the discharge of his trust, with 
 that fidelity, vigilance, prudence, and equity, that 
 neither you nor we could desire greater virtue and 
 probity in an embassador, and a person of unblemished 
 reputation ; with those inclinations and endeavours to 
 preserve peace and friendship between us, without any 
 fraud or dissimulation, that while he officiates the duty 
 of your embassador, we do not find what occasion of 
 scruple or offence can arise in either nation. And we 
 should brook his departure with so much the more 
 anxiety of mind, considering the present juncture of 
 times and affairs, were we not assured, that no man 
 can better or more faithfully declare and represent to 
 your lordships, either the present condition of affairs, 
 or our goodwill and affection to your government. 
 Being therefore every way so excellent a person, and 
 so very deserving both of yours and our republic, we 
 request your lordships to receive him returning, such 
 as we unwillingly dismiss him, laden with the real 
 testimonials of our applauses. Almighty God grant 
 all prosperity to your affairs, and perpetuate our 
 2 s 
 
 friendship, to his glory, and tlie support of his orthodox 
 church. 
 
 Your high and mightinesses most devoted. 
 From our Court at Westtninster, 
 Nov. — , 1657. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth ©/"England, 
 Sfc, To the High and Mighty Lords, the States of 
 the United Provinces. 
 
 Most High and Mighty Lords, our dearest 
 J'riends and Confederates ; 
 George Downing is a person of eminent quality, 
 and, after a lung trial of his fidelity, probity, and dili- 
 gence, in several and various negotiations, well ap- 
 proved and valued by us. Him we have thought fit- 
 ting to send to your lordships, dignified with the 
 character of our agent, and amply furnished with our 
 instructions. We therefore desire your lordships, to 
 receive him kindly, and that so often as he shall signify 
 that he has any thing to impart in our name to your 
 lordships, you will admit him free audience, and give 
 the same credit to him, and entrust him with whatso- 
 ever you have to communicate to us, which you may 
 safely do, as if ourselves were personally present. And 
 so we beseech Almighty God to bless your lordships, 
 and your republic with all prosperity, to the glory of 
 God and the support of his Church. 
 
 Your high and mightinesses most affectionate, 
 From our court at Whitehall, OLIVER, &c. 
 
 December — , 1657. 
 
 To the States o/ Holland. 
 
 There being an alliance between our republic and 
 yours, and those affairs to be transacted on both sides 
 that without an agent and interpreter, sent either by 
 yourselves, or from us, matters of such great moment 
 can hardly be adjusted to the advantage of both na- 
 tions, we thought it conducing to the common good of 
 both republics, to send George Downing, a person of 
 eminent quality, and long in our knowledge and esteem 
 for his undoubted fidelity, probity, and diligence, in 
 many and various negotiations, dignified with the 
 character of our agent, to reside with your lordships, 
 and chiefly to take care of those things, by which the 
 peace between us may be preserved entire and diutur- 
 nal. Concerning which we have not only written to 
 the States, but also thought it requisite to give notice 
 also of the same to your lordships, supreme in the go- 
 vernment of your province, and who make so consider- 
 able a part of the United Provinces ; to the end you 
 may give that reception to our resident which becomes 
 him, and that whatever he transacts with your High 
 and flighty States, you may assure yourselves, shall 
 be as firm and irrevocable, as if ourselves had been 
 present in the negotiation. Now the most merciful 
 God direct all your counsels and actions to his glory, 
 and the peace of his church. 
 
 Westtn. Decemh. — , 1657. 
 
628 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/Enoland, 
 ^c, To the most Serene Prince^ Ferdinand, Great 
 Duke o/TuscANV. 
 
 Most Serene Great Duke, our luucb 
 hououred Friend, 
 Your hijj^bness's letters, bearing date from Florence 
 tbe 10th of November, gave us no small occasion of 
 content and satisfaction ; finding therein your goodwill 
 towards us, so much the more conspicuous, by how 
 much deeds than words, performances than promises, 
 are the more certain marks of a cordial affection. For 
 what we requested of your highness, that you would 
 command the master of the Little Lewis, William Ellis, 
 (who most ignominiously broke his faith with the 
 Turks,) and the ship and goods to be seized and de- 
 tained, till restitution should be made to tbe Turks, lest 
 tbe christian name should receive any blemish by 
 thieveries of the like nature ; all those things, and that 
 too with an extraordinary zeal, as we most gladly un- 
 derstood before, your highness writes that you have 
 seen diligently performed. We therefore return our 
 thanks for the kindness received, and make it our 
 farther request, that when the merchants have given 
 security to satisfy the Turks, the master may be dis- 
 charged, and the ship, together with her lading, be 
 forthwith dismissed, to the end we may not seem to 
 have had more care perhaps of the Turks' interest, than 
 our own countrymen. In the mean time, we take so 
 kindly this surpassing favour done us by your highness, 
 and most acceptable to us, that we should not refuse to 
 be branded with ingratitude, if we should not ardently 
 desire a speedy opportunity, with the same promptitude 
 of mind, to gratify your highness, whereby we might be 
 enabled to demonstrate our readiness to return the same 
 good offices to so noble a benefactor upon all occasions. 
 
 Your highness's most affectionate, 
 From our court at Westminster, OLIVER, &c. 
 
 December — , 1657. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/'England, 
 ffc. To the most Serene and Potent Prince Charles 
 GusTAvus, ^wj^r ©/"M^ Swedes, Goths, and Van- 
 dals, ^c. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent Prince, our most 
 Invincible Friend and Confederate ; 
 Bv your majesty's letters, dated the 21st of February 
 from your camp in Seland, we found many reasons to 
 be affected with no small joy, as well for our own par- 
 ticular, as in regard of the whole christian republic in 
 general. In the first place, because the King of Den- 
 mark, being become an enemy, not induced thereto, as 
 we are apt to believe, by his own inclinations or interests, 
 but deluded by the artifices of our common adversaries, 
 is reduced to that condition by your sudden eruption 
 into the very heart of his kingdom, with very little 
 bloodshed on either side, that, what was really true, he 
 will at length be persuaded, that peace would have 
 been more beneficial to him, than the war which he 
 
 has entered into against your majesty. Then again, 
 when he shall consider with himself, that be cannot 
 obtain it by any more speedy means, tiian by making 
 use of our assistance, long since offered him to procure 
 a reconciliation, in regard your majesty so readily en- 
 treated by the letters only delivered by our agent, by 
 such an easy concession of peace, most clearly made it 
 apparent iiow highly you esteemed the intercession of 
 our fricndsliip, he will certainly apply himself to us; 
 and then our interposition in so pious a work will 
 chiefly require, that we should be the sole reconciler 
 and almost autlior of that peace, so beneficial to the 
 interests of the protestants; which, as we hope, will 
 suddenly be accomplished. For when the enemies of 
 religion shall despair of breaking your united forces 
 by any other means than setting both j'our majesties at 
 variance, then their own fears will overtake them, lest 
 this unexpected conjunction, which we ardently desire, 
 of your arms and minds, should turn to the destruction 
 of them that were the kindlers of the war. In the 
 mean time, most magnanimous king, may your 
 prowess go on and prosper ; and the same felicity 
 which the enemies of the church have admired in the 
 progress of your achievements, and the steady career 
 of your victories against a prince, now your con- 
 federate, the same by God's assistance, may you en- 
 force them to behold once more in their subversion. 
 From our palace at Westminster, 
 March 30, 1658. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/England, 
 4-c., To the most Serene Prince, Ferdinand, Great 
 Duke of TcscANY. 
 
 Most Serene Prince, 
 The answer which we have given to your agent 
 here residing, we believe, will fully satisfy your high- 
 ness as to our admiral, who but lately put into your 
 ports. In the mean time, John Hosier, master of a 
 ship called the Owner, has set forth in a petition to us, 
 that in April, 1656, he hired out his ship by a charty- 
 party agreement, to one Joseph Arman, an Italian, who 
 manifestly broke all the covenants therein contained ; 
 so that he was enforced, lest he should lose his ship 
 and lading, together with his whole principal stock, 
 openly to set forth the fraud of his freighter, after the 
 manner of merchants; and when he had caused it to 
 be registered by a public notary, to sue him at Leg- 
 horn. Joseph, on the other side, that he might make 
 good one fraud by another, combining with two other 
 litigious traders, upon a feigned pretence, by perjury, 
 seized upon six thousand pieces of eight, the money of 
 one Thomas Clutterbuck. But as for his part, the said 
 Hosier, after great expenses and loss of time, could ne- 
 ver obtain his right and due at Leghorn : nor durst he 
 there appear in court, being threatened as he was, and 
 waylaid by his adversaries. We therefore request your 
 highness, that you would vouchsafe your assistance 
 to this poor oppressed man, and according to your 
 wonted justice, restrain the insolence of his adversary.? 
 For in vain are laws ordained for the government of 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 629 
 
 cities by the authority of princes, if wrong- and vio- 
 lence, when they cannot abrogate, shall be able by 
 threats and terrour to frustrate the refuge and sanc- 
 tuary of the laws. However, we make no doubt, but 
 that your highness will speedily take care to punish a 
 daring boldness of this nature; beseeching Almighty 
 God to bless your highness with peace and prosperity. 
 From our court at Westminster, 
 April?, 1658. 
 
 the most Serene and Potent Prince, Lewis, King 
 of France. 
 
 I 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, and most 
 August Friend and Confederate; 
 Your majesty may call to mind, that at the same 
 time, when the renewiniii'the league between us was in 
 agitation, and no less auspiciously concluded, as the 
 many advantages from thence accruing to both nations, 
 and the many annoyances thence attending the com- 
 mon enemy, sufficiently testify; those dreadful butche- 
 ries befel the Piedmontois, and that we recommended, 
 with great fervency of mind and compassion, their 
 cause, on all sides forsaken and afflicted, to your com- 
 miseration and protection. Nor do we believe that 
 your majesty of yourself, was wanting in a duty so 
 pious, that we may not say, beseeming common huma- 
 nity, as far as your authority, and the veneration due 
 to your person, could prevail with tlie duke of Savoy. 
 Certain we are, that neither ourselves, nor many other 
 princes and cities, were wanting in our performances, 
 by the interposition of embassies, letters, and entrea- 
 ties. After a most bloody butchery of both sexes, and 
 all ages, at length peace was granted, or rather a cer- 
 tain clandestine hostility covered over with the name 
 of peace. The conditions of peace were agreed in 
 your town of Pignerol ; severe and hard, but such as 
 those miserable and indigent creatures, after they had 
 suffered all that could be endured that was oppressive 
 and barbarous, would have been glad of, had they 
 been but observed, as hard and unjust as they were. 
 But by false constructions, and various evasions, the 
 assurances of all these articles are eluded and vio- 
 lated ; many are thrust out from their ancient abodes ; 
 many are forbid the exercise of their religion, new 
 tributes are exacted, a new citadel is imposed upon 
 them ; from whence the soldiers frequently making 
 excursions, either plunder or murder all they meet. 
 Add to all this, that new levies are privately preparing 
 against them, and all that embrace the protestant reli- 
 gion are commanded to depart by a prefixed day ; so 
 that all things seem to threaten the utter extermination 
 of those deplorable wretches, whom the former massacre 
 spared. Which I most earnestly beseech and conjure 
 ye, most Christian king, by that Right Hand which 
 signed the league and friendship between us, by that 
 same goodly ornament of j'our title of MOST CHRIS- 
 TIAN, by no means to suffer, nor to permit such 
 liberty of rage and fury uncontrolled, we will not say, 
 in any prince, (for certainly such barbarous severity 
 could never enter the breast of any prince, much less 
 
 so tender in years, nor into the female thoughts of his 
 mother,) but in those sanctified cut-throats, who, pro- 
 fessing themselves to be the servants and disciples of 
 our Saviour Christ, who came into the world to save 
 sinners, abuse his meek and peaceful name and pre- 
 cepts to the most cruel slaughter of the innocent. 
 Rescue, you that are able in your towering station, 
 worthy to be able, rescue so many suppliants prostrate 
 at your feet, from the hands of ruffians, who, lately 
 drunk with blood, again thirst after it, and think it 
 their safest way to throw the odium of their cruelty 
 upon princes. But as for you, great prince, suffer not, 
 while you reign, your titles, nor the confines of your 
 kingdom, to be contaminated with this same Heaven- 
 offending scandal, nor the peaceful gospel of Christ to 
 be defiled with such abominable cruelty. Remember, 
 that they submitted themselves to your grandfather 
 Henry, most friendly to the protestants, when the vic- 
 torious Lesdiguieres pursued the retreating Savoyard 
 over the Alps. There is also an instrument of that 
 submission registered among the public acts of jour 
 kingdom, wherein it is excepted and provided among 
 other things, that from that time forward the Piednion- 
 tois should not be delivered over into the power of any 
 ruler, but upon the same condition upon which your in- 
 vincible grandfather received (hem into his protection. 
 This protection of your grandfather these suppliants 
 now implore from you as grandchild. It is your ma- 
 jesty's part, to whom those people now belong, to give 
 them that protection which they have chosen, by some 
 exchange of habitation, if they desire it, and it may be 
 done : or if that be a labour too difficult, at least to 
 succour them with your patronage, your commisera- 
 tion, and your admittance into sanctuary. And there 
 are some reasons of state, to encourage your majesty not 
 to refuse the Piedmontois a safe asylum in your king- 
 dom : but I am unwilling that you, so great a king, 
 should be induced to the defence and succour of the 
 miserable by any other arguments than those of j'our 
 ancestor's pledged faith, your own piety, royal benig- 
 nity, and magnanimity. Thus the immaculate and 
 intire glory of a most egregious act will be your own, 
 and you will find the P'ather of mercy, and his Son, 
 King Christ, whose name and doctrine you have vin- 
 dicated from nefarious inhumanity, so much the more 
 favourable and propitious to your majesty, all your 
 days. The God of mercy and power infuse into your 
 majesty's heart a resolution, to defend and save so 
 many innocent Christians, and maintain your own 
 honour. 
 
 Westminster, May — , 1658. 
 
 To the Evangelic Cities of the Switzers. 
 
 Illustrious and most Noble Lords, our 
 dearest Friends ; 
 How heavy and intolerable the sufferings of the 
 Piedmontois, your most afflicted neighbours, have 
 been, and how unmercifully they have been dealt with 
 by their own prince, for the sake of their religion, by 
 reason of the fellness of the cruelties, we almost trem- 
 
630 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 ble to remember, and thoug'ht it superfluous to put you 
 in miuil of those thiunfs, which are much better known 
 to your lor(]s)iips. We have also seen copies of the 
 letters wliich your embassadors, promoters and wit- 
 nesses of the peace concluded at Pignerol, wrote to 
 the duke of Savoy, and the president of his council at 
 Turin ; wherein they set forth, and make it out, that 
 all tlie conditions of the said peace are broken, and 
 were rather a snare than a security to those miserable 
 people. Which violation continued from the conclu- 
 sion of the peace till this very moment, and still grow- 
 ing more heavy every day than other; unless they 
 patiently endure, unless they lay themselves down to 
 be trampled under foot, plashed like mortar, or abjure 
 their religion, the same calamities, the same slaughters 
 hang over their heads, which three years since made 
 such a dreadful havoc of them, their wives, and chil- 
 dren ; and which, if it must be undergone once more, 
 will certainly prove the utter extirpation of their whole 
 race. What shall such miserable creatures do ? in 
 whose behalf no intercession will avail, to whom no 
 breathing time is allowed, nor any certain place of 
 lefuge. They have to do with wild beasts, or furies 
 rather, upon whom the remembrance of their former 
 murders has wrought no compassion upon their coun- 
 trymen, no sense of humanity, nor satiated their raven- 
 ous thirst after blood. Most certainly these things are 
 not to be endured, if we desire the safety of our brethren 
 the Piedmontois, most ancient professors of the ortho- 
 dox faith, or the welfare of, our religion itself. As for 
 ourselves so far remote, we have not been wanting to 
 assist them as far as in us lay, nor shall we cease our 
 future aid. But you, who not only lie so near adjoin- 
 ing, as to behold the butcheries, and to hear the out- 
 cries and shrieks of the distressed, but are also next 
 exposed to the fury of the same enemies ; consider for 
 the sake of the immortal God, and that in time, what 
 it behoves ye now to do : consult your prudence, your 
 piety, and your fortitude ; what succour, what relief 
 and safeguard you are able, and are bound to afford 
 your neighbours and brethren, who must else undoubt- 
 edly and speedily perish. Certainly the same religion 
 is the cause, why the same enemies also seek your per- 
 dition ; why, at the same time the last year, they me- 
 ditated your ruin, by intestine broils among your- 
 selves. It seems to be only in your power next under 
 God, to prevent the extirpation of this most ancient 
 scion of the purer religion, in those remainders of the 
 primitive believers; whose preservation, now reduced 
 to the very brink of utter ruin, if you neglect, beware 
 that the next turn be not your own. These admoni- 
 tions, while we give ye freely, and out of brotherly 
 love, we are not quite as yet cast down : for what lies 
 only in our power so far distant, as we have hitherto, 
 so shall we still employ our utmost endeavours, not 
 only to procure the safety of our brethren upon the 
 precipice of danger, but also to relieve their wants. 
 May the Almighty God vouchsafe to both of us, that 
 peace and tranquillity at home, that settlement of times 
 and affairs, that we may be able to employ all our 
 wealth and force, all our studies and counsels in tlie 
 
 defence of his church against the rage and fury of her 
 enemies. 
 
 From our court at Whitehall, May — , 1658. 
 
 To his Eminency, Cardinal Mazarine. 
 
 Most Eminent Lord, 
 The late most grievous cruelties, and most bloody 
 slaughters perpetrated upon the inhabitants of the val- 
 leys of Piedmont, within the duke of Savoy's do- 
 minions, occasioned the writing of the enclosed letters 
 to his majesty, and these other toyoureminency. And 
 as we make no doubt but that such tyranny, and inhu- 
 manities, so rigorously inflicted upon harmless and in- 
 digent people, are highly displeasing and offensive to 
 the most serene king ; so we readily persuade ourselves, 
 that what we request from his majesty in behalf of those 
 unfortunate creatures, your eminency will employ your 
 endeavour and your favour to obtain, as an accumula- 
 tion to our intercessions. Seeing there is nothing 
 which has acquired more goodwill and affection to the 
 French nation, among all the neighbouring professors 
 of the reformed religion, than that liberty and those 
 privileges, which by public acts and edicts are granted 
 in that kingdom to the protestants. And this among 
 others was one main reason, why this republic so ar- 
 dently desired the friendship and alliance of the 
 French people. For the settling of which we are now 
 treating with the king's embassador, and have made 
 those progresses, that the treaty is almost brought to a 
 conclusion. Besides that, your eminency's singular 
 benignity and moderation, which in the management of 
 the most important affairs of the kingdom you have 
 always testified to the protestants of France, encou- 
 rages us to expect what we promise to ourselves from 
 your prudence and generosity; whereby you will not 
 only lay the foundations of a stricter alliance between 
 this republic and the kingdom of France, but oblige us 
 in particular to returns of all good oflSces of civility 
 and kindness : and of this we desire your eminency to 
 rest a.ssured. 
 
 Your eminency's most affectionate. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of England, 
 ^c. To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Lewis, 
 King o/ France. 
 
 Most Serene and Mighty King, our most J 
 
 August Friend and Confederate ; ^ 
 
 It being the intention of Thomas viscount Falcon- 
 bridge, our son-in-law, to travel into France, and no 
 less his desire, out of his profound respect and venera- 
 tion to your majesty, to be a<lmitted to kiss your royal 
 hands ; though by reason of his pleasing conversation 
 we are unwilling to part with him, nevertheless not 
 doubting but he will in a short time return from the 
 court of so great a prince, celebrated for the resort of 
 so many prudent and courageous persons, more nobly 
 prepared for great performances, and fully accomplish- 
 ed in whatsoever may be thought most laudable and 
 virtuous, we did not think it fit to put a stop to his ge- 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 6*1 
 
 ncrous resolutions. And though he be a person, who, 
 unless we deceive ourselves, carries his own recom- 
 mendations about him, wheresoever he goes; yet if he 
 shall find himself somewhat the more favoured by your 
 majesty for our sake, we shall think ourselves honour- 
 ed and oblig-ed by the same kindness. God Almighty 
 long preserve your majesty in safety, and continue a 
 lasting peace between us, to the common good of the 
 christian world. 
 
 From our court at Whitehall^ 
 May — , 1658. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of Y.^ovk^d, 
 Sec, To the most Eminent Lord, Cardinal Mazarine. 
 
 Most Eminent Lord, 
 Having recommended to the most serene king Tho- 
 mas viscount Falconbridge our son-in-law, desirous to 
 sec France ; we could not but acquaint your eminency 
 with it, and recommend him in like manner to your- 
 self, not ignorant of what moment and importance it 
 will be to our recommendation first given him. For 
 certainly, what benefit or advantage he shall reap by 
 residing in your country, which he hopes will not be 
 small, he cannot but be beholden for the greatest part of 
 it to your favour and goodwill ; whose single prudence 
 and vigilancy supports and manages the grand affairs 
 of that kingdom. Whatever therefore grateful obliga- 
 tion your eminency shall lay upon him, you may be 
 assured you lay upon ourselves, and that we shall num- 
 ber it among your many kindnesses and civilities 
 already shown us. 
 
 Westmijister, May — , 1658. 
 
 OnvEK, Protector, Sfc, To the most Eminent Lord, 
 Cardinal Mazarine. 
 
 Most Eminent Lord, 
 
 Having sent the most illustrious Thomas Bellasis, 
 viscount Falconbridge, our son-in-law, to congratulate 
 the king upon his arrival in the camp at Dunkirk ; I 
 gave him order to attend and wish your eminency long 
 life and health in our name, and to return thanks to 
 your eminency, by whose fidelity, prudence, and vigi- 
 lancy, it chiefly comes to pass, that the affairs of France 
 are carried on with such success in several parts, but 
 more especially in near adjoining Flanders, against 
 our common enemy the Spaniard ; from whom we 
 hope that open and armed courage now will soon ex- 
 act a rigorous account of all his frauds and treacheries. 
 Which that it may be speedily done, we shall not be 
 wanting, either with our forces, as far as in us lies, or 
 with our prayers to Heaven. 
 
 From our court at Whitehall, 
 May —, 1658. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/'Englano, 
 ^c. To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Lewis, 
 King o/" France. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent Prince, our most 
 August Friend and Confederate ; 
 
 So soon as the news was brought us, that your ma- 
 jesty was arrived in your camp, and was sate down 
 with so considerable an army before Dunkirk, that in- 
 famous nest of pirates, and place of refuge for searob- 
 bers, we were greatly overjoyed, in certain assurance 
 that in a short time now, with God's assistance, the 
 seas will be more open and less infested by those plun- 
 dering rovers; and that your majesty, by your mili- 
 tary prowess, will now take speedy vengeance of the 
 Spanish frauds ; by whom one captain was by gold cor- 
 rupted to the betraying of Hesden, another treacher- 
 ously surprised at Ostend. We therefore send the most 
 noble Thomas viscount Falconbridge, our son-in-law, 
 to congratulate your majesty's arrival in your camp so 
 near us, and that your majesty may understand from 
 his own lips, with what afiTection we labour the pros- 
 perity of your achievements, not only with our united 
 forces, but our cordial pra^'crs, that God would long 
 preserve your majesty, and perpetuate our established 
 friendship, to the common good of the christian word.,. 
 
 From our court at Westminster, 
 May — , 1658. 
 
 To the most Serene Prince, Ferdinand, Grand Duke 
 of Tuscany. 
 
 Most Serene Great Duke, 
 In regard your highness in your letters has ever 
 signified your extraordinary affection toward us, we 
 are not a little grieved, that either it should be so ob- 
 scurely imparted to your governors and ministers, or 
 by them so ill interpreted, that we can reap no benefit 
 or sign of it in your port of Leghorn, where your friend- 
 ship towards us ought to be most cleariy and truly 
 understood : rather, that we should find the minds of 
 your subjects daily more averse and hostile in their de^ 
 meanour toward us. For how unkindly our fleet was 
 lately treated at Leghorn, how little accommodated 
 with necessary supplies, in what a hostile manner twice 
 constrained to depart the harbour, we are sufficiently 
 given to undei-stand, as well from undoubted witnesses 
 upon the place, as from our admiral himself, to whose 
 relation we cannot but give credit, when we have 
 thought him worthy to command our fleet. Upon his 
 first arrival in January, after he had caused our letters 
 to be delivered to your highness, and all offices of ci- 
 vility had passed between our people and yours ; when 
 he desired the accommodation of Porto Ferraro ; an- 
 swer was made, it could not be granted, lest the king 
 of Spain, that is to say our enemy, should be offended. 
 And yet what is there which a prince in friendship 
 more frequently allows to his confederate, than free en- 
 trance into his ports and harbours ? Or what is there 
 that we can expect from a friendship of this nature, 
 
633 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 more ready to do us unkindncss than befriend us, or 
 aid us with the smallest assistance, for fear of provok- 
 ing the displeasure of our enemies ? At first indeed, 
 prattic was allowed, thoug'h only to two or three of our 
 seamen out of every ship, who had the favour to go 
 ashore. But soon after, it being noised in the town, that 
 our ships had taken a Dutch vessel laden with com 
 for Spain, that little prattic we had was prohibited ; 
 Longland the English consul was not permitted to go 
 aboard the fleet ; the liberty of takii)g in fresh water, 
 which is ever free to all that are not open enemies, was 
 not sufliered, but under armed guards, at a severe rate ; 
 and our merchants, which reside in the town to the vast 
 emolument of your people, were forbid to visit their 
 countrymen, or assist them in the least. Upon his last 
 arrival, toward the latter end of March, nobody was 
 suffered to come ashore. The fifth day after, when our 
 admiral had taken a small Neapolitan vessel, which 
 fell into our hands by chance, above two hundred great 
 shot were made at our feet from the town, though with- 
 out any damage to us. Which was an argument, that 
 what provoked your governors without a cause, as if 
 the rights of your harbour had been violated, was done 
 out at sea, at a great distance from your town, or the 
 jurisdiction of your castle. Presently our long boats, 
 sent to take in fresh water, were assailed in the port, 
 and one taken and detained ; which being redemand- 
 ed, answer was made, that neither the skiff nor the 
 seamen should be restored, unless the Neapolitan vessel 
 •were dismissed ; though certain it is, that she was 
 taken in the open sea, where it was lawful to seize her. 
 So that ours, after many inconveniences suffered, were 
 forced at length to set sail, and leave behind them the 
 provision, for which they had paid ready money. These 
 thingfs, if they were not done by your highness's con- 
 sent and command, as we hope they were not, we de- 
 sire you would make it appear by the punishment of 
 the governor, who so easily presumed to violate his 
 master's alliances ; but if they were done with your 
 highness's approbation and order, we would have j'our 
 highness understand, that as we always had a singular 
 value for 3'our friendship, so we have learnt to distin- 
 guish between injuries and acts of kindness. 
 
 Your good friend, so far as we may, 
 Frvm our court OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 
 at Whitehall, monwealth of England, &c. 
 
 May — , 1658. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth 0/ England, 
 ^c.y To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Lewis, 
 Kii^ «/* France. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent Prince, our most 
 August Confederate and Friend ; 
 By so speedily repaying our profound respect to your 
 majesty, with an accumulation of honour, by such an 
 illustrious embassy to our court ; you have not only 
 made known to us, but to all the people of England, 
 your singular benignity and generosity of mind, but 
 also how much you favour our reputation and dignit}': 
 for which we return our most cordial thanks to your 
 
 majesty, as justly you have merited from us. As for 
 the victory which God has given, most fortunate, to 
 our united forces against our enemies, we rejoice with 
 your majesty for it ; and that our people in that battle 
 were not wanting to your assistance, nor the military 
 glory of their ancestors, nor their own pristine fortitude, 
 is most grateful to us. As for Dunkirk, which, as your 
 majesty wrote, you were in hopes was near surrender : 
 it is a great addition to our joy, to hear from your 
 majesty such speedy tidings, that it is absolutely now 
 in your victorious hands ; and we hope moreover, that 
 the loss of one city will not suffice to repay the twofold 
 treachery of the Spaniard, but that your majesty will 
 in a short time write us the welcome news of the sur- 
 render also of the other town. As to your promise, 
 that you will take care of our interest, we mistrust it 
 not in the least, upon the word of a most excellent 
 king, and our most assured friend, confirmed withal 
 by your embassador, the most accomplished duke of 
 Crequi. Lastly, mo beseech Almighty God to prosper 
 your majesty and the affairs of France, both in peace 
 and war. 
 
 Westminster, June — , 1658. 
 
 Oliver, Pro^ecf or of the Commonwealth o/England, 
 iSfc, To the most Eminent Lord, Cardinal MkZARitiE. 
 
 Most Eminent Lord, 
 While we are returning thanks to the most serene 
 king, who to honour and congratulate us, as also to 
 intermix his joy with ours for the late glorious victory, 
 has sent a splendid embassy to our court ; we should 
 be ungrateful, should we not also by our letters pay 
 our due acknowledgments to your eminency ; who, to 
 testify your goodwill towards us, and how much you 
 make it your study to do us all the honour which lies 
 within your power, have sent your nephew to us, a 
 most excellent and most accomplished young gentle- 
 man ; and if you had any nearer relation, or any person 
 whom you valued more, would have sent him more 
 especially to us, as you declare in your letters ; adding 
 withal the reason, which, coming from so great a per- 
 sonage, we deem no small advantage to our praise and 
 ornament ; that is to say, to the end that they, who are 
 most nearly related to your eminency in blood, might 
 learn to imitate your eminency, in shewing respect and 
 honour to our person. And we would have it not to 
 be their meanest strife to follow your example of civil- 
 ity, candour, and friendship to us; since there are not 
 more conspicuous examples of extraordinary prudence 
 and virtue to be imitated than in your eminency ; from 
 whence they may learn with equal renown to govern 
 kingdoms, and manage the most important affairs of 
 the world. Which that your eminency may long and 
 happily administer, to the prosperity of the whole realm 
 of France, to the common good of the whole christian 
 republic, and your own glory, we shall never be want- 
 ing in our prayers to im]>lore. 
 
 Your excellency's most affectionate. 
 From our court at Whitehall, June — , 1658. 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 633 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth o/ England, 
 i^c. To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Charles 
 GusTAvus, Kinff of the Swedes, Goths, and Van- 
 dals, Sf-c. 
 
 ^lost Serene and Potent Prince, our dearest 
 Confederate and Friend ; 
 As often as we behold the busy counsels, and various 
 artifices of the common enemies of religion, so often do 
 we revolve in our minds how necessary it would be, 
 and how much for the safety of the christian world, 
 that the protestant princes, and most especially your 
 majesty, should be united with our republic in a 
 most strict and solemn confederacy. Which how ar- 
 dently and zealously it has been sought by ourselves, 
 how acceptable it would have been to us, if ours, and 
 the affairs of Swedeland, had been in that posture and 
 condition, if the said league could have been sacredly 
 concluded to the good liking of both, and that the one 
 could have been a seasonable succour to the other, we 
 declared to your embassadors, wlien first they entered 
 into treaty with us upon this subject. Nor were they 
 wanting in their duty ; but the same prudence which 
 they were wont to shew in other things, the same wis- 
 dom and sedulity they made known in this affair. 
 But such was the perfidiousness of our wicked and 
 restless countrymen at home, who, being often received 
 into our protection, ceased not however to machinate 
 new disturbances, and to resume their formerly often 
 frustrated and dissipated conspiracies with our enemies 
 the Spaniards, that being altogether taken up with the 
 preservation of ourselves from surrounding dangers, we 
 could not bend our whole care, and our entire forces, 
 as we wished we could have done, to defend the com- 
 mon cause of religion. Nevertheless what lay in our 
 power we have already zealously performed : and what- 
 ever for the future may conduce to your majesty's in- 
 terests, we shall not only shew ourselves willing, but 
 industrious to carry on, in union with your majest}', 
 upon all occasions. In the mean time we most gladly 
 congratulate your majesty's victories, most prudently 
 and courageously achieved, and in our daily prayers 
 implore Almighty God long to continue to your ma- 
 jesty a steady course of conquest and felicity, to the 
 glory of his name. 
 From our court at Whitehall, June   — , 1658. 
 
 Oliver, Protector of the Commonwealth of EsGL\yiD, 
 ^'c, To the most Serene Prince, the King of Por- 
 tugal. 
 
 Most Serene King, our Friend and Confederate ; 
 
 John Buffield, of London, merchant, hath set forth 
 in a petition to us, that in the year 1649, he delivered 
 certain goods to Anthony, John, and Manuel Ferdi- 
 nando Castaneo, mercliauts in Tamira, to the end that 
 after they had sold them, they might give him a just 
 account, according to the custom of merchants : after 
 which, in his voyage for England, he fell into the 
 hands of pirates ; and being plundered by them, re- 
 
 ceived no small damage. Upon this news, Anthony 
 and Manuel, believing he had been killed, presently 
 looked upon the goods as their own, and still detain 
 them in their hands, refusing to come to any account; 
 covering this fraud of theirs with a sequestration of 
 English goods, that soon after ensued. So that he 
 was forced the last year, in the middle of winter, to 
 return to Portugal and demand his goods, but all in 
 vain. For that the said John and Anthony could by 
 no fair means be persuaded, either to deliver the said 
 goods or come to any account; and which is more to 
 be admired, justified their private detention of the 
 goods by the public attainder. Finding therefore that 
 being a stranger, he should get nothing by contending 
 with the inhabitants of Tamira in their own country, he 
 betook himself for justice to your majesty : humbly 
 demanded the judgment of the conservator, appointed 
 to determine the causes of the English ; but was sent 
 back to the cognizance of that court, from which he 
 had appealed. Which though in itself not unjust, yet 
 seeing it is evident, that the merchants of Tamira make 
 an ill use of your public edict to justify their own pri- 
 vate cozenage, we make it our earnest request to your 
 majesty, that according to your wonted clemency you 
 would rather refer to the conservator, being the proper 
 judge in these cases, the cause of this poor man afflicted 
 by many casualties, and reduced to utmost poverty; to 
 the end he may recover the remainder of his fortunes 
 from the faithless partnership of those people. Which 
 when you rightly understand the business, we make 
 no question, but will be no less pleasing to your ma- 
 jesty to see done, than to ourselves. From our court 
 at Westminster, Aug. 1658. 
 
 To the most Serene Prince, Leopold, Archduke of 
 Austria, Governor of the Low Countries under 
 Philip J5Cin^ o/" Spain. 
 
 Most Serene Ix)rd, 
 Charles Harbord, knight, has set forth in his 
 petition to us, that having sent certain goods and 
 household-stuff out of Holland to Bruges under your 
 jurisdiction, he is in great danger of having them ar- 
 rested out of his hands by force and violence. For that 
 those goods were sent him out of England in the year 
 1643, by the eari of Suffolk, for whom he stood bound 
 in a great sum of money, to the end he might have 
 wherewithal to satisfy himself, should he be compelled 
 to pay the debt. Which goods are now in the pos- 
 session of Richard Greenville, knight, who broke open 
 the doors of the place where they were in custody, and 
 made a violent seizure of the same, under pretence of 
 we know not what due to him from Theophilus earl of 
 Suffolk, by virtue of a certain decree of our court of 
 chancery, to which those goods, as being the earl's, 
 were justly liable ; whereas by our laws, neither the 
 earl now living, whose goods they are, is bound by 
 that decree, neither ought the goods to be seized or 
 detained ; which the sentence of that court, now sent 
 to your serenity, together with these letters, positively 
 declares and proves. Which letters the said Charles 
 
634 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 Harbord has desired of us, to the end we would make 
 it our request to your highness, that the said goods 
 inaj be forthwith discharged from the violent seizure, 
 and no less unjust action of the said Richard Green- 
 ville, in regard it is apparently against the custom and 
 law of nations, that any person should be allowed the 
 liberties to sue in a foreign jurisdiction upon a plaint, 
 wherein he can have no relief in the country where 
 the cause of action first arose. Therefore the reason of 
 
 justice itself, and your far celebrated equanimity en- 
 couraged us to recommend this cause to your highness; 
 assuring your highness, that whenever any dispute 
 shall happen in our courts concerning the rights and 
 properties of your people, you shall ever find us ready 
 and quick in our returns of favour. Westminster, — 
 Your highness's most affectionate, 
 
 OLIVER, Protector of the Com- 
 monwealth of England. 
 
 LETTERS 
 
 IN THE NAME OF RICHARD, PROTECTOR. 
 
 Richard, Protector of the Commonwealth o/*England, 
 ^c, To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Lewis, 
 King of France. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, our Friend 
 and Confederate ; 
 
 So soon as our most serene father, Oliver, Protector 
 of the Commonwealth of England, by the will of God 
 so ordaining, departed this life upon the third of Sep- 
 tember, we being lawfully declared his successor in 
 the supreme magistracy, though in the extremity of 
 tears and sadness, could do no less than with the first 
 opportunity by these our letters make known a matter 
 of this concernment to your majesty ; by whom, as 
 you have been a most cordial friend to our father and 
 this republic, we are confident the mournful and unex- 
 pected tidings will be as sorrowfully received. Our 
 business now is, to request your majesty, that you 
 would have such an opinion of us, as of one who has 
 determined nothing more religiously and constantly, 
 than to observe the friendship and confederacy con- 
 tracted between your majesty and our renowned fa- 
 ther: and with the same zeal and goodwill to confirm 
 and establish the leagues by him concluded, and to 
 carry on the same counsels and interests with your 
 majesty. To which intent it is our pleasure that our 
 ambassador, residing at your court, be empowered by 
 the same commission as formerly ; and that you will 
 g^ve the same credit to what he transacts in our name, 
 as if it had been done by ourselves. In the mean time 
 we wish your majesty all prosperity. 
 
 From our court at Whitehall, 
 Sept. 5, 1658. 
 
 I 
 
 To the most Eminent Lord Cardinal Mazarine. 
 
 Though nothing could fall out more bitter and 
 grievous to us, than to write the mournful news of our 
 most serene and most renowned father's death ; never- 
 theless, in regard we cannot be ignorant of the high 
 esteem which he had for your eminency, and the great 
 value which you had for him ; nor have any reason to 
 doubt, but that your eminency, upon whose care the 
 prosperity of France depends, will no less bewail the 
 loss of your constant friend, and most united confeder- 
 ate; we thought it of great moment, by these our 
 letters, to make known this accident so deeply to be 
 lamented, as well to your eminency as to the king ; 
 and to assure your eminency, which is but reason, that 
 we shall most religiously observe all those things, 
 which our father of most serene memory was bound by 
 the league to see confirmed and ratified : and shall 
 make it our business, that in the midst of your mourn- 
 ing for a friend so faithful and flourishing in all vir- 
 tuous applause, there may be nothing wanting to 
 preserve the faith of our confederacy. For the conser- 
 vation of which on your part also, to the good of 
 both nations, may God Almighty long preserve your 
 eminency. 
 
 Westminster, Sept. 1658. 
 
 Richard, Protector of the Commonwealth «>/'England, 
 ^c, To the most Sereiie Prince, Charlzs GvsTAVvs, 
 King of the Swedes, Goths, and Vandals, ^c. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, our 
 Friend and Confederate ; 
 
 When we consider with ourselves that it will be a 
 difficult matter for us to be imitators of our father's 
 
 i 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 635 
 
 virtues, unless we should observe and endeavour to 
 hold the same confederacies which he by his prowess 
 acquired, and out of his sinfjular judg'ment thought 
 most worthy to be embraced and observed ; your ma- 
 jesty has no reason to doubt, that it behoves us to pay 
 the same tribute of affection and goodwill, which our 
 father of most serene memory always paid to your 
 majesty. Therefore, although in this beginning of our 
 government and dignity I may not find our affairs in 
 that condition, as at present to answer to some particu- 
 lars which your embassadors have proposed, yet it is 
 our resolution to continue the league concluded by our 
 father with your majesty, and to enter ourselves into a 
 stricter engagement ; and so soon as we shall rightly 
 understand the state of affairs on both sides, we shall 
 always be ready on our part to treat of those things, 
 which shall be most chiefly for the united benefit of 
 both republics. In the mean time, God long preserve 
 your majesty to his glory, and tlie defence and safe- 
 guard of his orthodox church. 
 From our court at Westminster, 
 October, 1658. 
 
 Richard, Protector of the Commonwealth of Enc- 
 . LAND, ^'c. To the most Serene and Potent Prince, 
 
 Charles Gvstaws, King of the Swedes, Goths, a«rf 
 
 Vandals, ^c. 
 
 Most serene and potent King, our 
 Friend and Confederate ; 
 We have received two letters from your majesty, the 
 one by your envoy, the other transmitted to us from 
 our resident Philip Meadows, whereby we not only 
 understood your majesty's unfeigned grief for the death 
 of our most serene father, in expressions setting forth 
 the real thoughts of your mind, and how highly your 
 majesty esteemed his prowess and friendship, but also 
 what great hopes your majesty conceived of ourselves 
 advanced in his room. And certainly, as an accumu- 
 lation of paternal honour in deeming us worthy to suc- 
 ceed him, nothing more noble, more illustrious, could 
 befall us than the judgment of such a prince; nothing 
 more fortunately auspicious could happen to us, at our 
 first entrance upon the government, than such a con- 
 gratulator ; nothing, lastly, that could more vehemently 
 incite us to take possession of our father's virtues, as 
 our lawful inheritance, than the encouragement of so 
 great a king. As to what concerns your majesty's in- 
 terests, already under consideration between us, in 
 reference to the common cause of the protestants, we 
 would have your majesty have those thoughts of us, 
 that since we came to the helm of this republic, though 
 the condition of our affairs be such at present, that they 
 chiefly require our utmost diligence, care, and vigi- 
 lancy at home, yet that we hold nothing more sacred, 
 and that there is not any thing more determined by us, 
 than, as much as in us lies, never to be wanting to the 
 league concluded by our father with your majesty. 
 To that end, we have taken care to send a fleet into 
 the Baltic sea, with those instructions which our agent, 
 to that purpose empowered by us, will communicate 
 
 to your majesty ; whom God preserve in long safety, 
 and prosper with success in defence of his orthodox 
 religion. 
 
 From our court at Westminster, 
 October 13, 1658. 
 
 Richard, Protector, To the most Serene and Potent 
 Prince, Charles Gustavus, King of the Swedes, 
 Goths, anrf Vandals, ^c. 
 
 Most serene and potent King, our 
 Friend and Confederate ; 
 
 We send to your majesty, nor could we send a pre- 
 sent more worthy or more excellent, the truly brave 
 and truly noble Sir George Ascue, knight, not only 
 famed in war, and more especially for his experience 
 in sea-affairs, approved and tried in many desperate 
 engagements; but also endued with singular probity, 
 modesty, ingenuity, learning, and for the sweetness of 
 bis disposition caressed by all men ; and which is the 
 sum of all, now desirous to serve under the banners of 
 your majesty, so renowned over all the world for your 
 military prowess. And we would have your majesty 
 be fully assured, that whatsoever high employment 
 you confer upon him, wherein fidelity, fortitude, expe- 
 rience, may shine forth in their true lustre, you cannot 
 entrust a person more faithful, more courageous, nor 
 easily more skilful. Moreover, as to those things we 
 have given him in charge to communicate to your 
 majesty, we request that he may have quick access, 
 and favourable audience, and that you will vouchsafe 
 the same credit to him as to ourselves if personally 
 present: lastly, that you will give him that honour as 
 you shall judge becoming a person dignified with his 
 own merits and our recommendation. Now God 
 Almighty prosper all your affairs with happy success 
 to his own glory, and the safeguard of his orthodox 
 church. 
 
 From our court at Whitehall, 
 October, 1658. 
 
 Richard, Protector of the Commonwealth of EychA^v, 
 ^c. To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Charles 
 Gustavus, King of the Swedes, Goths, and Van- 
 dals, ^c. 
 
 Most serene and potent King, our dearest 
 Friend and Confederate ; 
 Samuel Piggot of London, merchant, in a petition 
 delivered to us, sets forth, that he lately sent from 
 London into France, upon the account of trade, two 
 vessels, the one called the Post, Tiddie Jacob master, 
 the other the Water-Dog, Garbrand Peters master. 
 That from France, being laden with salt, they sailed 
 for Amsterdam ; at Amsterdam the one took in ballast 
 only ; the other laden with herrings, in copartnership 
 with one Peter Heinbergh, sailed away for Stettin in 
 Pomerania, which is under your jurisdiction, there to 
 unlade her freight; but now he hears that both those 
 vessels are detained somewhere in the Baltic sea by 
 your forces ; notwithstanding that he took care to send 
 
630 
 
 LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 a. writing' witli both those ships, sealed with the seal 
 of the admiralty-court, by which it appeared that he 
 alone was the lawful owner of both the vessels and 
 goods, that part excepted which belong'cd to Hein- 
 bergh. Of all which, in regard he has made full proof 
 before us, we make it our request to your majesty, (to 
 prevent the ruin and utter shipwreck of the poor man's 
 estate, by the loss of two ships at one time,) that you 
 would command your officei"s to take care for the 
 speedy discharge of the said vessels. God long pre- 
 serve your majesty to his own glory, and the safeguard 
 of his orthodox church. 
 
 Richard, Protector of the Commonwealth ©/"England, 
 (re, To the high and mighty Lords, the States of 
 Westfriezland. 
 
 Most high and mighty Lords, our dearest 
 Friends and Confederates; 
 
 Mary Grinder, widow, in a petition presented to 
 us, has made a most grievous complaint, that whereas 
 Thomas Killegrew, a commander in your service, has 
 owed her for these eighteen years a considerable sum 
 of money, she can by her agents neither bring him to 
 pay the said money, nor to try his title at law to the 
 same, if he has any. Which that he may not be com- 
 pelled to do by the widow's attorney, he has petitioned 
 your highnesses, that nobody may be suffered to sue 
 him for any money that he owes in England. But 
 should we signify no more than only this to your 
 highnesses, that she is a widow, that she is in great 
 want, the mother of many small children, which her 
 creditor endeavours to deprive of almost all that little 
 support they have in this world, we cannot believe we 
 need make use of any greater arguments to your lord- 
 ships, so well acquainted with those divine precepts 
 forbidding the oppression of the widow and the father- 
 less, to persuade ye not to grant any such privilege, 
 upon a bare petition, to the fraudulent subverter of the 
 widow's right; and which for the same reason we 
 assure ourselves you will never admit. 
 
 From our court at Westminster, 
 January 27, 1659. 
 
 Richard, Protector of the Commomcealth oyENGLAND, 
 ^c. To the most Serene Prince, Lewis, King of 
 France. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent Prince, our most 
 august Confederate and Friend ; 
 We have been given to understand, and that to our 
 no small grief, that several protestant churches in Pro- 
 vence were so maliciously affronted and disturbed by 
 a certain turbulent humourist, that the magistrates at 
 Grenoble, who are the proper judges of such causes, 
 thought him worthy of exemplary punishment ; but 
 that the convention of the clergy, which was held not 
 far from those places, obtained of your majesty, that 
 the whole matter should be removed up to Paris, there 
 to be heard before your royal council. But they not 
 having as yet made any determination in the business. 
 
 I 
 
 those churches, and more especially that of Yvoirc, are 
 forbid to meet for the worship of God. Most earnestly 
 therefore we request your majesty, that in the first 
 place you would not prohibit those from preaching in 
 public, whose prayers to God for your safety and the 
 prosperity of your kingdom you are so free to suffer ; 
 then, that the sentence given against that impertinent 
 disturber of divine service, by the ])roper judges of 
 those causes at Grenoble, may be duly put in execution. 
 God long preserve your majesty in safety and pros- 
 perity ; to the end that, if you have any good opinion 
 of our prayers, or think them prevalent with God, you 
 may be speedily induced to suffer the same to be pub- 
 licly put up to heaven by those churches, now forbid 
 their wonted meetings. 
 
 Westminster, Feb. 18, 1659. 
 
 To the most Eminent Lord Cardinal Mazarine. 
 
 Most eminent Lord Cardinal ; 
 
 The most illustrious lady, late wife of the deceased 
 duke of Richmond, is now going into France, together 
 with the young duke her son, with an intention to re- 
 side there for some time. We therefore most earnestly 
 request your eminency, that if any thing fall out, 
 wherein your authority, favour, and patronage may be 
 assisting to them, as strangers, you would vouchsafe 
 to protect their dignity, and to indulge the recommen- 
 dation of it not the meanest, in such a manner, that if 
 any addition can be made to your civility towards all 
 people, especially of illustrious descent, we may be 
 sensible our letters have obtained it. Withal, your 
 excellency may assure yourself, your recommendation, 
 whenever you require the like from us, shall be of 
 equal force and value in our esteem and care. 
 
 Westminster, Feb. 29, 1659. 
 
 Richard, Protector of the Commonwealth o/"Enoland, 
 ^c. To the most Serene Prince, John, King of Pon- 
 
 TUGAL. 
 
 Most Serene and potent Prince, our 
 Friend and Confederate ; 
 Although there are many things which we are 
 bound to impart by writing to a king our friend, and 
 in strict confederacy with our reptil)lic, yet there is 
 nothing which we ever did more willingly, than what 
 we do at this present, by these our letters to congratu- 
 late this last victory, so glorious to the kingdom of 
 Portugal, obtained against our common enemy the 
 Spaniard. By which, how great an advantage will 
 accrue not only to your own but to the peace and re- 
 pose of all Europe, and that perhaps for many years, 
 there is nobody but understands. But tlierc is one thing 
 more, wherein we must acknowledge your majesty's 
 justice, the most certain pledge of victory : tliat satis- 
 faction has been given by the commissioners appointed 
 at London, according to the 24th article of the league, 
 to our merchants, whose vessels were hired by the Bra- 
 zil company. Only there is one among them still re- 
 maining Alexander Bence of London, merchant, whose 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 637 
 
 ship called the Three Brothers, John Wilks master, 
 being" hired and laden, and having- performed two 
 vojag'es for the said company, j^et still they refuse to 
 pay him his wag'es according- to their covenants ; when 
 the rest that only performed single voyages are already 
 paid. Which why it should be done, we cannot un- 
 derstand, unless those people think, in their judgment, 
 that person more worthy of his hire, who did them only 
 single service, than he who earned his wages twice. 
 We therefore earnestly requestyour majesty, that satis- 
 faction may be given, for his service truly performed, 
 to this same single Alexander, to whom a double sti- 
 pend is due ; and that, by virtue of your royal author- 
 ity, you would prefix the Brazil company as short a 
 day as may be, for the payment of his just due, and 
 repairing his losses; seeing that their delays have been 
 the occasion, that the loss sustained by the merchant 
 has very near exceeded the money itself which is 
 owing for his wages. So God continue your majesty's 
 prosperous successes against the common enemy. 
 
 From our court at Westminster, 
 Feb. 23, 1659. 
 
 Richard, Protector of the Commonwealth of Eng- 
 land, (§-c., To the most eminent Lord Cardinal 
 Mazarine. 
 
 Most Eminent Lord ; 
 
 Bv letters to your eminency, about eight months 
 since, dated June 13, we recommended to your emi- 
 nency the cause of Peter Pet, a person of singular pro- 
 bity, and in all naval sciences most useful both to us 
 and our republic. His ship called the Edward, in the 
 year 1646, as we formerly wrote, was taken in the 
 mouth of the Thames by one Bascon, and sold in the 
 port of Boulogne ; and though the king in his royal 
 council the 4th of November, 1647, decreed, that what 
 money the council should think fitting to be given in 
 recompense of the loss, should be forthwith paid in 
 satisfaction to the owner; nevertheless, as he sets forth, 
 he could never reap the benefit of that order. Now in 
 regard we make no question but that your eminency, 
 at our desire, gave strict command for the speedy exe- 
 cution of that decree; we make it therefore our renewed 
 request, that you would vouchsafe to examine where 
 the impediment lies, or through whose neglect or con- 
 tumacy it came to pass, that in ten yeai-s time the 
 king's decree was not obeyed ; and employ your au- 
 thority so effectually, that the money then decreed, 
 which we thought long since satisfied, may be speedily 
 demanded and paid to our petitioner. Thus your 
 eminency will perform an act most grateful to jus- 
 tice, and lay moreover a singular obligation upon 
 ourselves. 
 
 From our court at WestminsteTy 
 Feb. 25, 1659. 
 
 The two following Letters, after the Dcposal of 
 Richard, were written in the Name of the Par- 
 liament Restored. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, 
 ^■c. To the most Serene and Potent Prince, Charles 
 GusTAVUS, King of the Swedes, Goths, anrf Van- 
 dals, ^c. 
 
 Most Serene and Potent King, our dearest Friend ; 
 
 Since it has pleased the most merciful and omnipo- 
 tent God, at whose disposal only the revolutions of all 
 kingdoms and republics are, to restore us to our pris- 
 tine authority, and the supreme administration of the 
 English affairs ; we thought it convenient in the firet 
 place to make it known to your majesty; and to sig- 
 nify moreover as well our extraordinary aflTection to 
 your majesty, so potent a protestant prince, as also our 
 most fervent zeal to promote the peace between your 
 majesty and the king of Denmark, another most power- 
 ful protestant king, not to be reconciled without our 
 assistance, and the good offices of our aflTection. Our 
 pleasure therefore is, that our extraordinary envoy, 
 Philip Meadows, be continued in the same employ- 
 ment with your majesty, with which he has been 
 hitherto intrusted from this republic. To which end 
 we impower him by these our letters to make proposals, 
 act, and negotiate with your majesty, in the same 
 manner as was granted him by his last recommenda- 
 tions : and whatsoever he shall transact and conclude 
 in our name, we faithfully promise and engage, by 
 God's assistance, to confirm and ratify. .The same 
 God long support your majesty, the pillar and support 
 of the protestant interests. 
 
 Westminster, William Lenthal, 
 
 May 15, 1659. Speaker of the Parliament of the 
 Commonwealth of England. 
 
 The Parliament of the Commonwealth of England, 
 ^c. To the most Serene Prince, Frederick, King of 
 Denmark. 
 
 Most serene King, and most dear Friend ; 
 
 Seeing it now is come to pass, that by the will and 
 pleasure of the most merciful and powerful God, the 
 supreme moderator of all things, we are restored to our 
 pristine place and dignity, in the administration of the 
 public aflTairs, we thought it convenient in the first 
 place, that a revolution of this government should not 
 be concealed from your majesty's notice, a prince both 
 our neighbour and confederate ; and withal to signify 
 how much we lay to heart your ill success : which you 
 will easily perceive by our zeal and diligence, that 
 never shall be wanting in us to promote and accom- 
 plish a reconciliation between your majesty and the 
 king of Sweden. And therefore we have commanded 
 our extraordinary envoy with the most serene king of 
 Sweden, Philip Meadows, to attend your majesty, in 
 our name, in order to these matters, and to impart, 
 propound, act, and negotiate such things as we have 
 
LETTERS OF STATE. 
 
 given him in chargfc to communicate to your majesty : 
 and wlial credit you shall give to him in this his em- 
 ployment, we request your majesty to believe it given 
 to ourselves. God Almighty grant your majesty a 
 happy and joyful deliverance out of all your difficulties 
 and afflicting troubles, under which you stand so un- 
 
 dauntedly supported by your fortitude and magnj 
 nimity. 
 
 Westminster, William Lenthal, 
 
 May 15, 1659. Speaker of the Parliament of tl 
 Commonwealth of England. 
 
MANIFESTO OF THE LORD PROTECTOR 
 
 OF TBK 
 
 COMMONWEALTH OF ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, IRELAND, &c. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY CONSENT AND ADVICE OF HIS COUNCIL. 
 
 WHEREIN IS SHEWN THE REASONABLENESS OF THE CAUSE OF THIS REPUBLIC AGAINST 
 THE DEPREDATIONS OF THE SPANIARDS. 
 
 [WkiTTKii IN Latin by Jobn Milton, and ti%Mt printxd w 1659; Tramslatbd into Enouib im 1738.] 
 
 That the motives whereby we have been lately induced 
 to make an attack upon certain islands in the West In- 
 dies, which have been now for some time in the hands of 
 the Spaniards, are exceeding just and reasonable, every 
 one will easily see, who considers In what a hostile 
 manner that king and his subjects have all along, in 
 those parts of America, treated the English nation ; 
 which behaviour of theirs as it was very unjust at the 
 beginning, so ever since with the same injustice they 
 have persevered in it, in a direct contrariety to the 
 common law of nations, and to particular articles of 
 alliance made betwixt the two kingdoms. 
 
 It must indeed be acknowledged, the English for 
 some years past have either patiently borne with these 
 injuries, or only defended themselves; which may pos- 
 sibly give occasion to some to look upon that late 
 expedition of our fleet to the West Indies, as a war 
 voluntarily begun by us, instead of considering that 
 this war was first begun and raised by the Spaniards 
 themselves, as in reality it will be found to be, and 
 (though this republic have done all that lay in their 
 power to establish peace and commerce in those parts) 
 hitherto kept up and carried on by them with the 
 greatest eagerness. 
 
 That the Spaniards themselves are the occasion of 
 this war, will evidently appear to every one who con- 
 siders how, as oft as they find opportunity, without any 
 just cause, and without being provoked to it by any 
 injury received, they are continually murdering, and 
 sometimes even in cold blood butchering, any of our 
 countrymen in America they think fit; while in the 
 mean time they seize upon their goods and fortunes, 
 demolish their houses and plantations, take any of their 
 ships they happen to meet with in those seas, and treat 
 the sailors as enemies, nay, even as pirates. For they 
 give that opprobrious name to all, except those of their 
 own nation, who venture to sail in those seas. Nor do 
 
 they pretend any other or better right for so doing, than 
 a certain ridiculous gift of the pope on which they rely, 
 and because they were the first discoverers of some 
 parts of that western region: by virtue of which name 
 and title, which they arrogate to themselves, they main- 
 tain that the whole power and government of that 
 western world is lodged only in their hands. Of which 
 very absurd title we shall have occasion to speak more 
 fully, when we come to consider the causes assigned 
 by the Spaniards for their thinking themselves at liberty 
 to exercise all sorts of hostilities against our country- 
 men in America, to such a degree, that whoever are 
 driven upon those coasts by stress of weather or ship- 
 wreck, or any other accident, are not only clapt in 
 chains by them as prisoners, but are even made slaves ; 
 while they, notwithstanding all this, are so unreason- 
 able as to think, that the peace is broken, and very 
 much violated by the English ; and that even in 
 Europe, if they attempt any thing against them in 
 those parts, with a view to make reprisals, and to de- 
 mand restitution of their goods. 
 
 But though the king of Spain's ambassadors in our 
 country, depending on a Spanish faction which had 
 always a very considerable influence in the last king's 
 council, as well as his father's, did not scruple to make 
 a great many unreasonable complaints and ridiculous 
 demands upon the most trivial accounts, whenever the 
 English did any thing of this kind ; yet those princes, 
 though too much attached to the Spaniards, would by 
 no means have the hands of their subjects bound up, 
 when the Spaniards thought they should have the free 
 use of theirs. On the contrary, they allowed their sub- 
 jects to repel force by force, and to consider such of the 
 Spaniards, as could not be brought at any rate to keep 
 the peace in those parts, as enemies. So that about 
 the year 1640, when this affair was debated in the last 
 king's council, and when the Spanish ambassador de- 
 
640 
 
 A MANIFESTO OF THE LORD PROTECTOR 
 
 sired that some ships bound for America, lying in the 
 mouth of the river, and just ready to weigh anchor, 
 should be stopt, as being capable of doing mischief to 
 the Spaniards in that part of the world ; and when at the 
 same time he refused the English, who asked it of him 
 by some members of the council appointed for that pur- 
 pose, the privilege of trading to the West Indies, it was 
 nevertheless resolved upon, that these ships should pur- 
 sue their intended voyage, which accordingly they 
 did. 
 
 Thus far the aforesaid princes were not wanting to 
 their subjects, when they made war in those places 
 privately for their own interest, though, by reason of 
 the power of the above-mentioned Spanish faction, 
 they would not espouse their cause publicly, in the 
 way they ought to have done, and in a manner suit- 
 able to the ancient glory of the English nation. And 
 certainly, it would have been the most unbecoming 
 and disgraceful thing in the world for us, who by the 
 kind providence of God had in our possession so many 
 ships equipped and furnished with every thing requisite 
 to a war by sea, to have suffered these ships rather to 
 have grown worm-eaten and rot at home for want of 
 use, than to have been employed in avenging the blood 
 of the English, as well as that of the poor Indians, 
 which in those places has been so unjustly, so cruelly, 
 and so often shed by the hands of the Spaniards : since 
 God has made of one blood all nations of men for to 
 dwell on all the face of the earth, having determined 
 the times before appointed, and the bounds of their ha- 
 bitation. And surely God will one time or other take 
 vengeance on the Spaniards, who have shed so much 
 innocent blood, who have made such terrible havoc 
 among the poor Indians, slain so many thousands of 
 them with the utmost barbarity, done them so many 
 injuries, and harassed and persecuted them in such a 
 miserable manner, whatever time that may happen, 
 and by whose hand soever it may be executed. 
 
 But in order to justify our conduct, there is no need 
 of having recourse to the common relation that men 
 have to one another, which is no other than that of 
 brethren, whereby all great and extraordinary wrongs 
 done to particular persons ought to be considered as in 
 a manner done to all the rest of the human race ; since 
 tlieir having so often robbed and murdered our own 
 countrymen was cause sufficient of itself, for our hav- 
 ing undertaken that late expedition, and has given us 
 abundant reason to avenge ourselves on that people ; 
 to pass by at present a great many other reasons, and 
 to take into consideration our own safety for the future, 
 and likewise that of our allies, especially those among 
 them who are of the orthodox religion ; and to omit 
 several other causes, whereby we were prompted to this 
 expedition, of which we have no need at present to 
 give a particular enumeration, since our principal de- 
 sign at this time is to declare and shew to the world 
 the justice and equity of the thing itself, and not 
 to reckon up all the particular causes of it. And that 
 we may do this with the greater perspicuity, and ex- 
 plain generals by particulars, we must cast our eyes 
 back a little upon things that arc past, and strictly 
 
 examine all the transactions betwixt the English and 
 Spaniards, consider what has been the state of affairs 
 on both sides, so far as may respect the mutual rela- 
 tion of the two kingdoms, both since the first discovery 
 of America, and since the reformation : which two 
 great events, as they happened much about the same 
 time, so they produced every where vast changes and 
 revolutions, especially amongst the En<;lish and Spa- 
 niards, who since that time have conducted and ma- 
 naged their affairs in a very different, if not quite con- 
 trary, way to what they did formerly. For though the 
 last king and his father, against the will of almost all 
 their subjects, patched up any way two leagues with 
 the Spaniards ; yet the different turns of the two na- 
 tions, proceeding from the difference of their religious 
 principles, and the perpetual dissensions that were in 
 the West Indies, together with the jealousies and sus- 
 picions which the Spaniards had all along of the Eng- 
 lish, (being always mightily afraid of losing their 
 treasures in America,) have not only frustrated all the 
 late attempts made by this commonwealth to obtain a 
 peace upon reasonable and honourable terms, but were 
 likewise the principal reasons why Philip II, in Queen 
 Elizabeth's reign, broke that ancient league, that had 
 subsisted so long, without any violation, betwixt this 
 nation and his ancestors of the house of Burgundy and 
 Castile ; and having made war upon that queen, pro- 
 posed to subdue this whole nation : which very thing 
 in the year 1588 he attempted with all his might, 
 while in the mean time he was treating about the es- 
 tablishment of a peace ; which certainly cannot but be 
 still deeply rooted in the minds of ihe English, and 
 will not easily be extirpated. And though after that 
 there was some kind of peace and commerce in Europe, 
 (and it was of such sort, that no Englishman durst pro- 
 fess his own religion within any part of the Spanish 
 dominions, or have the Holy Bible in his house, or 
 even aboard a ship,) yet in the West Indies the Spa- 
 niard from that time has never allowed them either to 
 enjoy peace, or to have the privilege of trading ; con- 
 trary to what was expressly stipulated concerning both 
 these things in that league of the year 1542, concluded 
 between Henry VIII, king of England, and the em- 
 peror Charles V, in which peace and free commerce 
 were expressly established between these two princes 
 and their people, through every part of their respective 
 dominions, through all their ports and territories, with- 
 out any exception of the West Indies, which was then 
 subject to that emperor. 
 
 But as to that article, of a peace to be maintained 
 on the part of both nations through all the countries of 
 the world ; this is indeed plainly contained in all the 
 treaties of peace that were ever betwixt them, nor is 
 there any exception relating to commerce in any of 
 these treaties, till that which was made in the year 
 1604, with wliich that in the year 1630 does perfectly 
 agree. In which two last treaties it was resolved upon, 
 that both nations should have a privilege of trading iu 
 every part of one another's dominions, in all those 
 places, where, before the war between Philip II, kin 
 of Spain, and Elizabeth queen of England, there w 
 
 1 
 
OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF ENGLAND, kc. 
 
 641 
 
 any commerce, according to what was usual and cus- 
 toviiary in ancient alliances and treaties made before 
 that time. These arc the very individual words of 
 those treaties, which do plainly leave the matter du- 
 bious and uncertain, and so King* James was satisfied 
 to make peace with Spain any how, since he only re- 
 newed the very same treaty which had been concluded 
 a little before the death of Queen Elizabeth, who 
 charged her deputies when it was in agitation, among 
 other things, to insist warmly on having a privilege 
 of trading to the West Indies. 
 
 But King James, who was mightily desirous of 
 making peace with the Spaniards, was content to leave 
 that clause so expressed, as both parties might explain 
 it in their own way, and as they judged would be most 
 for their own advantage ; though these words, " Ac- 
 cording to what is usual and customary in ancient al- 
 liances and treaties," are so to be understood as it is 
 reasonable they should, according to what in justice 
 ought to be done, and not according to what has been 
 done on the part of the Spaniards, to their manifest 
 violation, (which has afforded perpetual matter of com- 
 plaint to the English, and has been an occasion of 
 continual quarrels betwixt the two nations,) it is most 
 evident from the express words of ancient treaties, that 
 the English had a privilege both of peace and com- 
 merce, through all the Spanish dominions. 
 
 Moreover, if the way of observing ancient treaties 
 and agreements is to be taken fr<»m their manifest 
 violation, the Spaniards have some pretence for ex- 
 plaining that clause, in the last treaties, as debarring 
 the English from all manner of commerce in these 
 parts. And for all that, during one half the time that 
 intervened betwixt the foresaid treaty in the year 1542, 
 and the beginning of the war betwixt Philip II, and 
 Elizabeth, so far as we can judge from the manner in 
 which things were carried on, it would appear that 
 trading in these places was as much allowed as pro- 
 hibited. But when the Spaniards would permit no 
 commerce at all, they and the English came from the 
 exchange of goods to that of blows and wounds ; and 
 this not only before the war broke out betwixt Philip 
 and Elizabeth, but likewise after a peace was made in 
 the year 1604 by King James, and another by his son 
 in 1630, and yet so as not to stop the course of trade 
 through Europe. However, the king of Spain, after 
 this late interruption of our trade, has now judged that 
 the contests in America may be extended to Europe 
 itself. 
 
 But we neither insist on the interpretation of treaties, 
 nor the right of commerce by virtue of these treaties, 
 or on any other account, as if this contest of ours with 
 Spain were necessarily to be founded on these. This 
 is built on the clearest and most evident reasons in the 
 world, as will presently appear. Nevertheless, there 
 are some things of such a nature, that though it be not 
 so necessary to found a war upon them, yet they may 
 
 • William Stephens of Bristol and some other London merchants, in the 
 years 1606 and 1607, trading with those people who live on the coast of 
 Morocco, witli three vessels, someships belonging to the king of Spain that 
 were pirating along these coasts, having come upon them in the bay of 
 Satiia and the hartour of Sauto Cruz, while they were lying at anchor, 
 
 very justly be obstacles to the establishing of a peace, 
 or at least to the renewing of an alliance, in which 
 these things are not granted, which have either been 
 granted in former pactions, or may reasonably be ex- 
 pected. And this may serve as an answer to that ques- 
 tion ; Why, since we have renewed the ancient treaties 
 we had formerly made with all other nations, we have 
 not done the same with Spain .'' And may serve to con- 
 vince the world, that in the articles of alliance we have 
 not, as is objected, demanded his right eye, far less both 
 eyes, by our refusing to be liable to the cruel and 
 bloody inquisition in those places where we have 
 been allowed to traffic, but have only insisted upon 
 having such a privilege of carrying on trade, as we 
 were not to be deprived of, either by ancient treaties, 
 or the law of nature. For though the king of Spain 
 has assumed to himself a power of prescribing us the 
 laws and bounds of commerce, by authority of a law 
 made by the pope, whereby be discharges all traffic 
 with Turks, Jews, and other infidels :* and though 
 under this pretence, even in time of peace, his ships of 
 war, in other places besides the West Indies, have 
 taken and plundered our ships; and though by the 
 same authority of the pope, and under pretence of a 
 certain gift he has from him, he claims the Indians for 
 his subjects, as if forsooth they also were subject unto 
 him, who are neither under his authority nor protec- 
 tion : yet we maintain, that neither the pope nor the 
 king of Spain is invested with any such power, as either 
 to rob them of their liberty, or us of the privilege of 
 conversing and trading with them, which we have by 
 the law of nature and nations, but especially with those 
 who, as we formerly observed, are not under the power 
 and government of the king of Spain. 
 
 Another obstacle to our renewing an alliance with 
 Spain is sufficiently manifest, and at the same time 
 very remarkable ; which is this, that any of our am- 
 bassadors and public ministers who are sent into that 
 kingdom, either for the sake of cultivating a good un- 
 derstanding, or about any other business, betwixt the 
 two commonwealths, are altogether uncertain of their 
 lives, the king being tied down to such opinions, as 
 hinder him from providing for their safety against 
 murderers, so as they may not be always in the most 
 imminent danger; whose privileges, in order to keep 
 up and preserve friendship between princes and com- 
 monwealths, have by the law of nations been always 
 considered as inviolable, and as a thing much more 
 sacred than those altars of refuge, whose privileges, 
 built on the authority of the pope and the church 
 of Rome, have been hitherto applied to elude the 
 force of laws and justice, which we demanded should 
 be put in execution against the murderers of Mr. 
 Anthony Ascham, who was sent by this republic into 
 Spain, to procure and establish friendship betwixt the 
 two nations. For which barbarous murder there has 
 never as yet been any satisfaction made, nor punishment 
 
 plundered them, without giving any other reason for their doing it than 
 this, that the Iting their master would not allow of any commerce with in- 
 tidels; and the loss ttiese merchants sustained at that time was computed 
 at more than 2000/. 
 
M2 
 
 A MANIFESTO OF THE LORD PROTECTOR 
 
 inflicted ou the autliors of it, nor could this ever be ob- 
 tained, though it was demanded by the parliament ; * 
 and in their name several times urged with the great- 
 est warmth by the council of state. And this has been 
 hitherto one continued obstacle, and a very just one 
 too, to the renewing of an alliance betwixt the two na- 
 tions ; nay, if we consider bow other nations have fre- 
 quently acted in like cases, it may be considered as a 
 very just cause for a war. 
 
 But as to the disputes that have arisen in the West 
 Indies, though we, both in the continent itself, and in 
 the islands, have plantations as well as they, and have 
 as good, nay, a better right to possess them, than the 
 Spaniards have to possess theirs, and though we have 
 a right to trade in those seas, equally good with theirs; 
 yet without any reason, or any damage sustained, and 
 that when there was not the least dispute about com- 
 merce, they have been continually invading our colo- 
 nies in a hostile way, killing our men, taking our ships, 
 robbing us of our goods, laying waste our houses and 
 fields, imprisoning and enslaving our people : this 
 they have been doing all along till these present times, 
 wherein they have of late engaged in an expedition 
 against them. 
 
 For which reason, contrary to what used to be done 
 formerly in the like case, they have detained our ships 
 and merchants, and confiscated their goods almost 
 every where through the Spanish dominions ; so that 
 whether we turn our eyes to America or Europe, they 
 alone are undoubtedly to be considered as the authors 
 of the war, and the cause of all the inconveniences and 
 all the bloodshed with which it may possibly be at- 
 tended. 
 
 There are a great many instances of the most cruel 
 and barbarous treatment, the English have perpetually 
 met with from the Spaniards in the West Indies; and 
 that even in time of peace, both since the year 1604, 
 when the peace was patched up by King James, till 
 the time that the war broke out again, and since that 
 last peace, which was concluded in the year 1630, to 
 this very day. We shall only mention a few of 
 them.f 
 
 After a peace was concluded in the year 1605, a ship 
 called the Mary, Ambrose Birch commander, was 
 trading on the north coast of Hispaniola : the master 
 being allured with promises of a safe and free commerce, 
 by one father John and six of his accomplices, to go 
 ashore to see some goods, twelve Spaniards in the 
 mean time while going aboarrl to see the English goods, 
 while the English suspecting no frauds were shewing 
 
 * Tills U evident frocn the parliament's letter, si^ed by the hand of the 
 Spealier, to the Kins of Spain, in the month of January, 1630, the words 
 whereof are as follow, "we demand of your majesty, and iosut upon it, 
 *' Uiat public justice t>e at length satisfie<l for the barbarous murder of An- 
 " tliony Ascham our rrsiilent at your court, and the rather, that after we 
 " have seen condign punishment inflicted on the authors of such a detest- 
 " able crime, we may t>e in no fear hereafter to send our ambassador to 
 " your royal court, to lay before you such things as may be equally ad- 
 " vantafeous to your majesty and our commonwealth. On the contrary, 
 " if we should suffer that blood, the shedding whereof was a thing in many 
 " respects so remarkably horrible, to pass unrevenged, we must of neres- 
 " sity be partakers in that detestable crime in the siithtof God, our only 
 " deliverer and the eternal fountain of our mercies, and in the eye of the 
 " whole EnKlish nation ; es|>ecially if ever we should send any otiier of 
 " our countrymen into that kingilom, where murder is allowed to go quite 
 " unpunisbol. But we ba\ e so great an opinion of your majesty, that we 
 
 I will not easily be brought to believe that your royal authonly is sub- 
 ' jccted to any other power superior to it within your own dominions." 
 
 t Asa ship called the Ulysses was tradinf? along the coast of (iuiana, 
 IM mercbaaU and sailors bappeoed to go ashore, by Uie persuasion ot 
 
 them their wares, the priest giving a signal from the 
 shore, the Spaniards every man drew his dagger, atid 
 stabbed all the English that were in the ship, except 
 two who leaped into the sea, and the rest ashore were 
 put to death with an unparalleled cruelty; the master 
 himself stript of his clothes, and fastened to a tree, was 
 exposed naked to be bit by the flies and vermin. And 
 after he had continued in this miserable case for the 
 space of twenty hours, a negro hearing his groans 
 came to the place, and as he was just on the point of 
 expiring, stabbed him with a spear. This ship with 
 her goods was valued at 5400/. 
 
 Another ship called the Archer was taken at St. Do- 
 mingo, and all the sailors put to death. She was reck- 
 oned worth 1300/. 
 
 Another ship, called the Friendship of London, with 
 her loading, was taken by Lodowic Fajard, admiral of 
 the Spanish fleet, all her goods confiscated, and tlie 
 merchants and mariners thrown into the sea, except 
 one boy who was reserved for a slave. This ship with 
 her loading was estimated at 1500/. 
 
 The sailors going ashore out of another ship, called 
 the Scorn, (the Spaniards having solemnly sworn they 
 would do them no prejudice,) were all nevertheless 
 bound to trees and strangled. The ship with all her 
 goods was seized, and the merchants, to whom she be- 
 longed, lost at this time 1500/. 
 
 In the year 1606, a ship called the Neptune, was 
 taken atTortuga, by the Spanish guarda costas, valued 
 at 4300/. t 
 
 The same year, another ship, called the Lark, was 
 taken by Lodowic Fajard, and confiscated with all her 
 loading, valued at 4570/. 
 
 Another, called the Castor and Pollux, was taken by 
 the Spaniards at Florida, by whom she was confiscated, 
 and all her sailors either killed or made slaves ; for 
 they were never beard of afterwards. This vessel with 
 her loading was valued at 15000/. § 
 
 In the year 1608, a Plymouth ship called the 
 Richard, commanded by Henry Challins, fitted out at 
 the expense of Lord Popham, lord chief justice of 
 England, Ferdinand Gorges knight, and others, to go 
 to Virginia, happening to be driven by stress of weather 
 upon the southern part of the Canary Islands, in her 
 way from thence to the coast of Virginia, she chanced 
 to fall in with eleven Spanish ships returning from St. 
 Domingo, who seized her; and though the captain, to 
 rescue himself out of their hands, produced a royal 
 passport, yet the ship with all her goods was confis- 
 cated, the captain himself barbarously used by them 
 
 Berry, governor of that place, who had promised, nay, even sworn that 
 they sliniild receive no hurt ; nevertheless there were thirty of them taken 
 anil committed to prison. Upon which the governor writes a letter to the 
 merchant, acquainting him, that he had indeed taken thirty of his nipii, 
 and that because some foreigners, who had couie there to trade with tliiiii, 
 had defraudedhimof20,0i» ducats, which, if he would send him, he swoie 
 he would restore all his men, and allow him the liherly of commerce. I he 
 merchant sent him the sum he demanded, part in ready nicney, part in 
 goods, which after the governor liail received, he ordered all the tlurly 
 men to be fastene<l to trees and strangled, except tlie chirurgeon, who uas 
 reserved, to cure the governor of a certain disease. 'I'liis ransom, togetJier 
 with other damages sustainerl there, was computed at 7UU0/. 
 
 t .lohn Davis lost two ships with all their goods, and the Spaniards slew 
 all the men that were alxwrdof them, to the entire loss ot tliat voyage^aud 
 this was computed at 3300/. ^ 
 
 ^ Another ship belonging to some London merchants, John Lock com- 
 mander, was taken by the Spanish fleet, at the isle of Tortuga, b«cau<te sb 
 had been trading there, and had felled some trees; for this she wi 
 confiscated, tnost of the sailors put to death, and the rest condemned 
 the galleys. This was esteemed a loM of MXV. 
 
OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF ENGLAND, kc. 
 
 643 
 
 jiand sent to the galleys. This was a damage of more 
 than 2500/. 
 
 A ship, called the Aid, was served much the same 
 ( way by Lodowic Fajard, having been taken under pre- 
 I tence of friendship ; she too with her goods was con- 
 j fiscated, and all the sailors sent to the galleys, where 
 \ some were cudgelled to death for refusing to ply the 
 i oars. Which vessel with her goods, by the Spaniards' 
 I own estimation, was worth 7000/. 
 j The same year another ship, called the gallant Anne, 
 j William Curry commander, as she was trading at His- 
 Ipaniola, was likewise confiscated with all her goods, 
 and all the sailors hanged ; each of them, by way of 
 I ridicule, having a piece of paper sewed to his coat, 
 which had these words written upon it, " Why came ye 
 hither ?" This ship with her burden was valued at 
 8000/. These instances do sufficiently shew what kind 
 of peace the Spaniards maintained with us during the 
 reign of King James, who was always very much 
 afraid of breaking the peace with them. And we may 
 also plainly discover (he same acts of hostility and 
 barbarous treatment ever since the last peace, which 
 was made in the year 1630, to this very day. For this 
 end we will first speak a little of those colonies, that 
 were planted by some noblemen of this nation, in the 
 isle of Catelina, which they call the isle of Providence, 
 and the island of Tortuga, by them called the island of 
 Association. These islands about the year 1629, being 
 then quite uninhabited, having neither men nor cattle 
 in them, were seized by the English, who at that time 
 were at war with the Spaniards. The year following, 
 when peace was established betwixt the two nations, 
 the Spaniards having made no exception about these 
 islands, King Charles, in a charter under the great 
 seal of England, declared himself master of the isle of 
 Providence and some other islands adjacent to it, which 
 he thought no way inconsistent with his peace, and 
 gave them in possession to some noblemen and their 
 heirs, and next year he extended this grant to the isle 
 of Tortuga. 
 
 And though the above-mentioned planters had got 
 possession of these islands by the king's grant, and 
 though this grant was exceeding well founded, first on 
 the law of nature, since neither the Spaniards, nor any 
 other people whatever, were in possession of these 
 places when they seized them ; and secondly, on the 
 right of war, since they were taken possession of in 
 time of war, and were not excepted in the articles of 
 peace, whence it follows from the second article of the 
 last treaty, that the title of the Spaniards to these 
 islands (even supposing they had had one) was made 
 null by their own consent : and though likewise, neither 
 the aforesaid company of planters in general, nor any 
 one of them in particular by any action of theirs, had 
 given any just cause of oflTence, either to the king of 
 Spain or to any of his subjects, till they had first in 
 a violent manner attacked our ships and colonies, and 
 had slain several of the English, and set fire to their 
 houses: yet the Spaniards, being firmly resolved to 
 break the peace in these places, about the twenty-se- 
 cond of January 1632, without any the least provoca- 
 2 T 
 
 tion, betwixt the isle of Tortuga and the cape of Flo- 
 rida, in a hostile manner fell upon a certain ship be- 
 longing to the company, called the Sea-Flower, on her 
 return from the isle of Providence, in which engage- 
 ment they slew some of the men aboard that ship, and 
 wounded others. 
 
 After this, about the year 1634, the isle of Tortuga 
 was attacked by four ships belonging to the Spaniards, 
 without any injury done on the part of the English, in 
 which attack upwards of sixty were slain, many wound- 
 ed and taken prisoners, their houses burnt down and 
 quite demolished, their most valuable goods carried off 
 by the Spaniards, and the English almost wholly 
 driven out of that island ; of whom some were hanged, 
 others carried to the Havanna, and detained in the 
 most abject slavery. One Grymes, who had been a 
 gunner in Tortuga, was distinguished from the rest, by 
 a death remarkably cruel. Some of them flying for re- 
 fuge to a certain desart island called Santa Cruz, were 
 again set upon by the Spaniards, who even pursued 
 them thither with three galleys in the month of March 
 1636, of whom forty were killed, and the rest taken 
 prisoners, and used with the utmost barbarity. 
 
 In the year 1635, July 24th, the Spaniards, witli two 
 great ships and one galley, made likewise an attack 
 upon the isle of Providence, and they fought for se- 
 veral hours, but at that time they were repulsed and 
 forced to give over their enterprise. However, they 
 attempted the same thing a second time, about the 
 year 1640, with twelve ships, some large, and some of 
 a lesser size, whereof the admiral's ship was called the 
 Armadillo of Carthagena, one of the greater galleys of 
 the royal plate-fleet, and having sent a great number 
 of soldiers ashore, they were confident of making them- 
 selves masters of the whole island ; but yet were re- 
 pulsed with a great deal of damage, and forced to re- 
 treat. Nevertheless, having equipped another fleet, 
 they returned a little after, when the planters, at vari- 
 ance among themselves, did not so much employ their 
 thoughts about what method they should take to de- 
 fend themselves, as about the terms upon which they 
 might most advantageously surrender; which terms, 
 upon their giving up the island, they found no diffi- 
 culty to obtain. But the island was by this means 
 wrested out of the hands both of the planters and the 
 commonwealth, of whom the former sustained the loss 
 of more than 80,000/. and the latter, besides the loss of 
 the island, hereby received a very open and public af- 
 front. After the Spaniards had thus made themselves 
 masters of the isle of Providence, a ship bringing some 
 passengers hither, who wanted to transport themselves 
 to this place from New-England, the Spaniards by 
 stratagem having found means to get her brought 
 within gun-shot, (the people in the ship knowing no- 
 thing of their late conquest of that island,) she was in 
 great danger of being taken, and with very much diffi- 
 culty rescued herself; the master of the ship, a very 
 honest and worthy man, was killed by a bullet-shot 
 from the island. 
 
 Nor were the Spaniards content to confine the acts 
 of hostility, which they have exercised upon the people 
 
644 
 
 A MANIFESTO OF THE LORD PROTECTOR 
 
 of that colony, within tlie boundaries of America, but 
 have also treated them in the same liostile manner in 
 Europe. For in the year 16 J8, December 25th, a ship 
 belonjjiing' to that same company, called the Providence, 
 Thomas Newman commander, two leagues fronj 
 Dungfeness on the very coast of Eng-land, was as- 
 saulted and taken by Sprengfeld, captain of a privateer 
 belonging- to Dunkirk, to which place this ship was 
 brought, and her cargo detained, which even by the 
 computation of many persons in that place, was reck- 
 oned to amount to the sum of 30,000/. As for the 
 sailors, some were slain, some wounded, and the rest, 
 after having been treated with the greatest inhumanity 
 in their own ship, were hurried away to Dunkirk, 
 where they met with much the same usage, till they 
 found some way to make their escape; and though the 
 owners demanded satisfaction in the most earnest man- 
 ner, and the last king by his resident Mr. Balthasar 
 Gerber, and both by letters written with his own hand, 
 and the hand of secretary Coke, asked reparation on 
 their behalf; yet they could neither procure the resti- 
 tution of their goods, nor the least compensation for 
 these losses. 
 
 But there are other examples of the Spanish cruelty, 
 which are of a later date, and still more shocking ; 
 such as that of their coming from Porto-Rico and at- 
 tacking Santa Cruz about the year 1651, an island that 
 was not formerly inhabited, but at that time possessed 
 by an English colony governed by Nicol. Philips, who 
 with about an hundred more of the colony was barba- 
 rously murdered by the hands of the Spaniards, who 
 besides this attacked the ships in the harbour, plundered 
 their houses and razed them from the very foundation ; 
 and when they could find no more to sacrifice to their 
 fury, (the rest of the inhabitants having fled to the 
 woods,) returning to Porto-rico, they gave the miser- 
 able remnant, who were well nigh famished, time to 
 remove from Santa Cruz, and to betake themselves to 
 some other neighbouring islands. But a little time 
 thereafter, they returned in quest and pursuit of those 
 who sculked in the woods ; but they had the good for- 
 tune to find a way of making their escape, and stealing 
 away privately to other islands. 
 
 In the same year 1631, a ship belonging to John 
 Turner being driven into the harbour of Cumanagola 
 by tempestuous winds, was seized by the governor of 
 that place, and confiscated with all her lading. 
 
 The same was done to captain Cranley's ship and 
 her goods.* 
 
 And in tlie year 1650, a certain vessel pertaining to 
 Samuel Wilson, loaden with horses, was taken on the 
 high seas in her way to Barbadoes, and carried to the 
 Havanna. Both the ship and her goods were confis- 
 cated, most of the sailors imprisoned, and like slaves 
 obliged to work at the fortifications. 
 
 The same hardships were endured by the sailors 
 aboard a certain ship of Barnstable about two years 
 
 „*.,And also to one belonging to Jolin Bland, commanded by Nicol. 
 philips, in the very same harbour. 
 
   But Swaiiley, our a/lmiral, was not so civilly treated in Sicily, in the 
 harbour ot Drepano, when in the year I6.M, about the month of June, his 
 M)ip called (lie Henry Boriaventure, together with a laige aud very rich 
 
 since, which in her return from some of our plantations 
 in the Carribee islands, springing a leak hard by His- 
 paniola, the sailors to save themselves, being obliged 
 to get into the long boat, got ashore, where they weic 
 all made slaves, aud obliged to work at the fortifica- 
 tions. 
 
 By these, and many more examples of the sanu 
 kind too long to be reckoned up, it is abundantly evi 
 dent, the king of Spain and his subjects think tliey ai 
 no way bound by any condition of peace to be per- 
 formed to us on their part in tliesc places, since they 
 have habitually exercised all sorts of hostilities against 
 us, nay have even done such things as are more insuf- 
 ferable, and more grievous, than open acts of hostility ; 
 and since that cruelty, witli which they usually treat 
 the English in America, is so contrary to the articles of 
 peace, that it does not so much as seem suitable to the 
 laws of the most bloody war : however, in that embargo 
 of the king of Spain, by which he orders our merchant 
 ships and their goods to be seized and confiscated, tli<" 
 whole blame is laid upon the English, whom he brand 
 with the odious names of treaty-breakers and violators 
 of the most sacred peace, and likewise of free com- 
 merce, which he pretends to have so religiously main- 
 tained on his part, and gives out that we have violated 
 the laws of peace and commerce with such strange and 
 professed hostility, that we attempted to besiege the 
 town of St. Domingo in the isle of Hispaniola. Which 
 is the only cause he offei-s, why the goods of the Eng- 
 lish are confiscated in Spain, and the trading people 
 confined ; though this is likewise aggravated by his 
 boasted humanity ; for he maintains that he in the 
 most friendly way received our fleets into his harbours,f 
 where it could be of any advantage for them to enter, 
 and that his ministers did not at all require of us a 
 strict observance of the articles of peace, that were 
 agreed to by the two crowns, which forbid both parties 
 to enter a harbour with more than six or eight ships of. 
 war. 
 
 But as he, by talking in this strain, acquits our fleets 
 of all trespasses and violations of treaty in these har- 
 bours, since if any such thing as is objected has been 
 done and passed over, it has bexjn done by the allow- 
 ance of himself and his ministers ; and as it is exceed- 
 ing manifest, that he has not been so favourable for 
 nought, if he will but reflect with himself what vast 
 profits he has received from our fleets, so on the other 
 hand, that the king and his ministers have not at a!l 
 in fact observed the agreements he speaks of, in tli(! 
 twenty-third article of which, the following provision 
 is made in the most express terms ; " That if any dif- 
 " ferences should happen to arise betwixt the twoconi- 
 " monwealths, the subjects on both sides should be 
 "advertised, that they should have six months from 
 " the time of the advertisement to transport their eflTccts, 
 "during which time there should be no arrest, intcr- 
 " nipting, or damaging, of any man's pei-son or goods." 
 
 Dutch ship calli'<l the Peter, which he had taken, was by (lie 
 (he Spanish uovernnr in that place, taken by seven Putch shi 
 command of (he youngiT I'rump in the very harbour, no f 
 small cun's shot from the bulwarks, whereby (he nicrchanU, 
 ship bcloujteil, lo^t (nore tlian C3,()U0/. 
 
 (rcac-liery • 
 ps, unrier ti;ir 
 iir(hcr (ban ^M 
 to whom tli^H 
 
 I 
 
OF THE COMMONWEALTH OF ENGLAND. 
 
 645 
 
 In which affair, the king truly has shown but very 
 little regard to those contracts, which he charges us 
 with having broken, as appears from that late confis- 
 cation of our goods. But what he declares in that 
 edict concerning the acts of hostility committed in the 
 West Indies, their being to be considered as a viola- 
 tion of peace and free commerce in these parts, is a 
 new and quite different explanation from what has 
 ever been propounded hitherto by either of the two 
 —republics, though both parties have frequently had 
 occasions to declare their judgment about this mat- 
 ter. 
 
 But seeing the king of Spain has declared both by 
 word and deed, that the articles of peace ought to be 
 thus understood, it follows, that by so many acts of 
 hostility committed against the Englisli in these parts, 
 and which first began on his side, and have been 
 continued from the very time of the last concluded 
 treaty, as was formerly observed, to this very day; 
 hence I say it follows, that he seems to be convinced, 
 that the sacred bonds of friendship have been first 
 broken on his side. Which thing is so clear and ma- 
 nifest, that our adversaries themselves in this contro- 
 versy are ashamed to deny the fact, and choose rather 
 to dispute with us concerning the right of possession ; 
 which must be in the following manner: as the king 
 of Spain, among his other titles, has assumed that of 
 king of the Indies, so they affirm, that the whole Indies 
 and Indian sea, both south and north, belong to him, 
 and that they are all enemies and pirates, who approach 
 these places without his commission. Which if it were 
 true, both we and all other nations ought to leave and 
 restore to him all our possessions there, and having 
 brought back whatever colonics we have sent thither, 
 should beg iiis pardon for the injury we have done him; 
 but if we consider a little more narrowly the truth and 
 reasonableness of this title, we shall find that it is built 
 upon a very slender and weak foundation, to have such 
 a vast pile of war and contentions erected upon it, as 
 the present is likely to be. They pretend to have a 
 double title, one founded upon the pope's gift, and an- 
 other upon their having first discovered those places. 
 As to the first, we know the pope has been always very 
 liberal in his gifts of kingdoms and countries, but in 
 the mean time we cannot but think, that in so doing, 
 he acts in a very different manner from him, whose 
 vicar he professes himself, who would not so much as 
 allow himself to be appointed a judge in the dividing 
 of inheritances, far less give any one whole kingdoms 
 at his pleasure, like the pope, who has thought fit to 
 make a present of England, Ireland, and some other 
 kingdoms. 
 
 But we deny his being invested with any such au- 
 thority, nor do we think there is any nation so void of 
 understanding, as to think that so great power is lodg- 
 ed in him, or that the Spaniards would believe this or 
 acquiesce in it, if he should require them to yield up 
 as much as he has bestowed. But if the French and 
 others, who acknowledge the pope's authority in ec- 
 clesiastical matters, have no regard to this title of the 
 Spaniards, it cannot be expected we should think of it 
 
 any otherwise. And so we leave this point, as not de- 
 serving a fuller answer. 
 
 Nor is the other title of any greater weight, as if the 
 Spaniards in consequence of their having first discover- 
 ed some few parts of America, and given names to 
 some islands, rivers, and promontories, had for this 
 reason lawfully acquired the government and dominion 
 of that new world. But such an imaginary title 
 founded on such a silly pretence, without being in pos- 
 session, cannot possibly create any true and lawful 
 right. The best right of possession in America is that 
 which is founded on one's having planted colonies 
 there, and settled in such places as had either no inha- 
 bitants, or by the consent of the inhabitants, if there 
 were any ; or at least, in some of the wild and uncul- 
 tivated places of their country, which they were not 
 numerous enough to replenish and improve ; since 
 God has created this earth for the use of men, and or- 
 dered them to replenish it throughout. 
 
 If this be true, as the Spaniards will be found to hold 
 their possessions there very unjustly, having purchased 
 all of them against the will of the inhabitants, and as 
 it were plucked them out of their very bowels, having 
 laid the foundations of their empire in that place, in 
 the blood of the poor natives, and rendered several large 
 islands and countries, that were in a tolerable case 
 when they found them, so many barren desarts, and 
 rooted out all the inhabitants there ; so the English 
 hold their possessions there by the best right imagin- 
 able, especially those islands where the Spaniards have 
 fallen upon their colonies, and quite demolished them ; 
 which islands had no other inhabitants at all, or if they 
 had, they were all slain by the Spaniards, who had 
 likewise deserted these places, and left them without 
 anj' to improve or cultivate them : so that by the law 
 of nature and nations they belong to any who think fit 
 to take possession of them, according to that common 
 and well-known maxim in law, " Such things as be- 
 long to none, and such as are abandoned by their for- 
 mer possessors, become his property who first seizes 
 them." Although, granting that we had beat the 
 Spaniards out of those places where we have planted 
 our colonies, out of which they had at first expelled 
 the inhabitants, we should have possessed them with 
 better right, as the avengers of the murder of that peo- 
 ple, and of the injuries sustained by them, than the 
 Spaniards their oppressors and murderers. But since 
 we have settled our colonies in such places as were 
 neither possessed by the natives nor the Spaniards, they 
 having left behind them neither houses nor cattle, nor 
 any thing that could by any means keep up the right 
 of possession, the justness of our title to these places 
 was so much the more evident, and the injuries done 
 us by the Spaniards so much the more manifest, espe- 
 cially our right to those places that were seized while 
 the two nations were at war with each other, such as 
 the isles of Providence and Tortuga, which if the Spa- 
 niards could have shewn to be theirs, by any former 
 title which they have not yet produced, yet since they 
 have not done it in the last treaty of peace, by the se- 
 cond article of this treaty, they have for the future cut 
 
646 
 
 A MANIFESTO OF THE LORD PROTECTOR. 
 
 themselves off from all such pretence, and if thej had 
 any right, have now lost it. It is unnecessary to talk 
 any further upon this argument. 
 
 There is no intelligent person but will easily see how 
 empty and weak those reasons are, that the Spaniard 
 has for claiming to himself alone an empire of such a 
 vast and prodigious extent. But we have said this 
 much, in order to shew the weakness of those pretences, 
 whereby the Spaniards endeavour to justify themselves 
 for having treated us with so much cruelty and bar- 
 barity in the West Indies, for having enslaved, bang- 
 ed, drowned, tortured, and put to death our country- 
 men, robbed them of their ships and goods, and de- 
 molished our colonies, even in the time of profound 
 peace, and that without any injury received on their 
 part : which cruel usage and havoc, made among 
 our people, and such as were of the same orthodox 
 faith with them, as oft as the English call to remem- 
 brance, they cannot miss to tiiink that their former 
 glory is quite gone, and their ships of war become en- 
 tirely useless, if they suffer themselves to be any longer 
 treated in such a disgraceful manner: and moreover, 
 to be not only excluded from all free commerce in so 
 great and opulent a part of the world, but likewise to 
 be looked upon as pirates and robbers, and punished in 
 the same manner as they, if they presume to sail those 
 seas, or so much as look that way ; or, in fine, have 
 any intercourse or dealing even with their own colo- 
 nies that are settled there. 
 
 Concerning the bloody Spanish inquisition we shall 
 say nothing, this being a controversy common to all 
 protestants, nor shall we speak of the many seminaries 
 of English priests and Jesuits nestling under the pro- 
 tection of the Spaniards, which is a perpetual cause of 
 stumbling, and very great danger to the common- 
 wealth ; since what we principally propose is, to shew 
 the grounds and reasons of the controversies in the 
 West Indies, and we are confident we have made it 
 plain to all, who weigh things fairly and impartially, 
 that necessity, honour, and justice, have prompted us 
 to undertake this late expedition. First, we have been 
 prompted to it by necessity ; it being absolutely neces- 
 sary to go to war with the Spaniards, since they will 
 not allow us to be at peace with them : and then 
 honour, and justice, seeing we cannot pretend to either 
 of these, if we sit still and suffer such unsufferable in- 
 juries to be done our countrymen, as those we have 
 shewn to have been done them in the West Indies. 
 
 And truly they see but a very little way, who form 
 their notion of the designs and intentions of the Span- 
 iards, according to that friendly aspect, with which the 
 present declension of their affairs has obliged them to 
 look upon us in these parts of the world, (that face 
 which they have put on being only a false one,) for it 
 is certain they have the same mind, and the very same 
 desires, which they had in the year 1588, when they 
 endeavoured to subdue this whole island ; nay, it is 
 certain their hatred is more inflamed, and their jealous- 
 ies and suspicions more increased by this change of the 
 
 state of our affairs, and of the form of our republic. 
 But if we omit this opportunity, which by reason ol 
 some things that have lately happened, may perhaps 
 give us an occasion to fall upon some way, whereby 
 through the assistance of God we may provide for our 
 safety, against this old and implacable enemy of our 
 religion and country ; it may happen, he will recover 
 such a degree of strength, as will render him as formi- 
 dable and hard to be endured as before. One thing is 
 certain, he always will and cannot but have the great- 
 est indignation against us. Meanwhile, if we suffer 
 such grievous injuries to be done our countrymen in 
 the West Indies, without any satisfaction or revenge ; 
 if we suffer ourselves to be wholly excluded from that 
 so considerable a part of the world ; if we suffer our 
 malicious and inveterate enemy (especially now, after 
 he has made peace with the Dutch) to carry off with- 
 out molestation, from the West Indies, those prodigious 
 treasures; whereby he may repair his present damages, 
 and again bring his affairs to such a prosperous and 
 happy condition, as to deliberate with himself a second 
 time, what he was thinking upon in the year 1588 ; 
 namely, whether it would be more adviseable to begin 
 with subduing England, in order to recover the United 
 Provinces, or with them, in order to reduce England 
 under his subjection ; without doubt he will not find 
 fewer, but more, causes why he should begin with 
 England. And if God should at any time permit those 
 intentions of his to have their desired effect, we have 
 good ground to expect, that the residue of that cruel 
 havoc, he made among our brethren at the foot of the 
 Alps, will be first exercised upon us, and after that 
 upon all protestants ; which, if we may give credit to 
 the complaints that were made by those poor orthodox 
 Christians, was first designed and contrived in the 
 court of Spain, by those friers whom they call mis- 
 sionaries. 
 
 All these things being considered, we hope the time 
 will come, when all, but especially true Englishmen, 
 will rather lay aside their private animosities among 
 themselves, and renounce their own proper advantages, 
 than through an excessive desire of that small profit to 
 be made by trading to Spain, (which cannot be obtained 
 but upon such conditions as are dishonourable and ii) 
 some sort unlawful, and which may likewise be got 
 some other way,) expose, as they now do, to the ut- 
 most danger, the souls of many young traders, by those 
 terms upon which they now live and trade there, and 
 suffer the lives and fortunes of many christian brethren 
 in America, and in fine, the honour of this whole na- 
 tion, to be exposed, and, what of all is the most 
 momentous and important, let slip out of their hands 
 the most noble opportunities of promoting the glory of 
 God, and enlarging the bounds of Christ's kingdom : 
 which, we do not doubt, will appear to be the chief end 
 of our late expedition into the West Indies against the 
 Spaniards, to all who are free of those prejudices which 
 hinder people from clearly discerning the truth. 
 
JOANNIS MILTONI OPERA 
 
 OMNIA LATINA. 
 
 VIZ. 
 
 I. DEFENSIO PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, CONTRA CLAUDII SALMASU DEFENSIONEM REGIAM. 
 
 IL DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 III. DEFENSIO PRO SE, CUI ADJUNGITUR JOANNIS PHILIPPI RESPONSIO AD APOLOGIAM ANONYMI CUJUSDAM 
 TENEBRIONIS PRO REGE ET POPULO ANGLICANO INFANTISSIMAM. 
 
 IV. LITER.E, SENATUS ANGLICANI, NECNON CROMWELLI, &c. NOMINE AC JUSSU CONSCRIPTS. 
 
 V. ARTIS LOGICS INSTITUTIO AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 VI. EPISTOLARUM FAMILIARIUM LIBER UNUS. QUIBUS ACCESSERUNT EJUSDEM, JAM OLIM IN COLLEGIO 
 ADOLESCENTIS, PROLUSIONES QUSDAM ORATORIS. 
 
 VH. SCRIPTUM DOJDNI PROTECTORIS, CONTRA HISPANOS. 
 
I 
 
DEFENSIO PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 CLAUDII SALMASII DEFENSIONEM REGIAM * 
 
 [first publisbed 1651.] 
 
 PRiEFATIO. 
 
 Tametsi vercor, si in defendendo populo Anglicano 
 tam sim profusus verborum, vacuus rerum, quam est 
 plerisque visus in defensione regia Salmasius, ne ver- 
 bosissimi simul et ineptissimi defensoris nomen meritus 
 esse videar; tamen cum in mediocri quavis materia 
 tractanda nemo sibi adeo properandum esse existimet, 
 quin exordio saltern aliquo pro dignitate suscepti a se 
 operis uti soleat, id ejjo in re omnium fere maxima 
 dicenda si non omittam, neque nimis astringam, spero 
 equidera, duas propemodum res, quas magnopere vel- 
 1cm, assecuturum me esse; alteram, ut causee huic no- 
 bilissimee, et seculorum omnium memoria dignissimse 
 nulla ex parte, quantum in me est, desim ; alteram, ut 
 reprehensam in adversario futililatera et redundantiam, 
 devitasse tamen ipse nihilo minus judicer. Dicam cnim 
 res neque parvas neque vulgarcs; regem potentissimum, 
 oppressis legibus, religione afBicta, pro libidine reg- 
 nantera, tandem a suo populo, qui servitutem longam 
 servierat, bello victum ; inde in custodiam traditum ; et 
 cum nullam omnino melius de se sperandi materiam 
 vel dictis vel factis proeberet, a summo demum regni 
 coucilio capite damnatum; et pro ipsis rcgice foribus 
 securi percussum. Dicam etiam, quod ad levandos 
 magna superstitione hominum animos multiim contu- 
 lerit, quo jure, preesertim apud nos, judicatura hoc at- 
 que ])eractum sit; meosque cives fortissimos et integer- 
 rimos, deque universis orbis terrarum civibus ac popu- 
 lis egregie meritos, ab improbissimis maledicorum, sive 
 nostratium, sive exterorum caluraniis, turn imprimis ab 
 bujus inanissimi sophista? maledictis, qui pro duce et 
 corypboeo csEterorum se gerit, facile defendam. Quse 
 enim ullius regis alto solio sedentis majestas unquam 
 tanta eluxit, quanta tum populi Anglicani effulgebat, 
 cum, excussa ilia veteri superstitione, quce diu inva- 
 lucrat, ipsum regem, sen potius de rege hostem, qui 
 solus mortalium impunitatem sibi divino jure vendica- 
 bat, suis legibus irretitum judicio perfundere, et quo is 
 quenicunque alium supplicio affecisset, eodem sontem 
 
 * Printed from au edition in fuiio, corrected by tlie author. 
 
 ipsum aiBcere non vereretur. At quid ego licec tanquam 
 populi facta proedico ? quse ipsa per se pcne vocem 
 edunt, et prtesentem ubique testantur Deum. Qui, 
 quoties suoe sapientissimee menti complacitum est, su- 
 perbos et effroenatos reges, supra human um modum sese 
 attollentes, solet deturbare, et tola sccpe cum domo fun- 
 ditus evertit. Illius nos manifesto numinc ad salutem 
 et libertatem prope amissam subito erecti, ilium ducem 
 secuti, et impressa passim divina vestigia venerantes, 
 viam, baud obscuram sed illustrem, illius auspiciis 
 commonstratum et patefactara ingressi sumus. Hoec 
 ego omnia digne satis explicare, et quod omnes fortasse 
 gentes legant atque cetates, monumentis tradere, si di- 
 ligentia solum mea, cujusmodicunque est, meis tantum 
 viribus sperem me posse, frustra sim. Quie enim oratio 
 tam augusta atque magnifica, quod tam excellens in- 
 genium, huic oneri subeundo par esse queat, ut, cum 
 illustrium virorum aut civitatum res gestas vix reperia- 
 tur tot seculis qui luculent^ possit scribcre, opinetur 
 quisquam htec, non hominum, sed omnipotentis plane 
 Dei, gloriose et mirabiliter facta ullis se verbis aut stylo 
 assequi posse ? Quod quidem munus ut susciperem, 
 tametsi summi in republica nostra viri sua authoritate 
 perfecerunt, mihique hoc negotium datum esse volue- 
 runt, ut quiE illi, Deo ductore, magna cum gloria ges- 
 sere, ea, quod certe proximum est, contra invidiam et ob- 
 trectationem, quas in res ferrum et apparatus belli nihil 
 potest, alio genere armorum defendcrem ; quorum ego 
 quidem judicium magno mihi ornamento esse existimo, 
 me scilicet eorum suffragiis eum esse pra caeteris, qui 
 banc patriae mese fortissimis liberatoribus baud poeniten- 
 dam operamnavarem : quin et ipse ab ineunte adolescen- 
 tia iis eram studiis incensus, quae me ad optima quaeque 
 si minus facienda, at certe laudanda, incitatum ferebant. 
 His tamen diffisus adminicuHs, ad divinam opem re- 
 curro ; Deumque Opt. Max. donorum omnium largito- 
 rem invoco, ut quam prospere quamque pie nostri illi 
 ad libertatem clarissimi duces regies fastus, et domina- 
 
650 
 
 PILEFATIO. 
 
 turn impotentem, acie freg-erunt, dein memorabili tan- 
 deni siippHcio extinxeriint, quamque facili neg'otio 
 iiuperunus de raultis ipsum regem veluti ab inferis rc- 
 surgentem, inque illo libro post mortem cdito novis 
 argutiis, et verborum lenociiiiis, populi se venditantcm 
 redarguit atquc summovit, tam ego felicitcr tamquc 
 vere declamatoris hujus exotici petulaiitiam et menda- 
 cia refellam atqiie discutiam. Qui alienigena cum sit, 
 et quamvis id millies uegct, grammaticus, iion ea stipe 
 contentus quam hoc nomine meretur, magnus ardclio 
 esse nialuit; nou reipub. solum immiscere se ausus, 
 sed alienre: cum neque modestiam, nequc judicium, 
 neque aliud quicquam afferat, quod oporterct sane tan- 
 tum arbitrum, pnrtur arrogantiam et grammaticam. 
 Et sane htpc qute jam latiue uteunque scripsit, si inter 
 Anglos el nostro semione protulisset, vix esset, credo, 
 qui de responso laboraudum esse judicaret; sed par- 
 tim trita, et refutationibus jam crebris explosa, negli- 
 gcret, partim tyrannica et foeda, vilissimo quovis man- 
 cipio vix fercnda, quamvis alioqui regias secutus ipse 
 partes, aversaretur. Nunc cum inter exteros, et nos- 
 traruni rerum penitus ignaros grandi pagina turgescat, 
 sunt illi quidem, qui res nostras perperara intelligunt, 
 cdocendi ; hie suo more, (quandoquidem tanta maledi- 
 cendi aliis libidiue fertur,) suo inquam more ac modo, 
 erit tractandus. Quod siquis miretur forte, cur ergo 
 lam diu intactum et ovantem, nostroque omnium si- 
 lentio iuflatum volitare passi simus, de aliis sane ne- 
 scio, de me audacter possum dicere, non mihi verba aut 
 argumcnta, quibus causam tuerer tam bonam, diu quae- 
 reuda aut investiganda fuisse, si otium et valetudinem 
 (qute quidem scribendi laborem ferre possit) nactus 
 essem. Qua cum adhuc etiam tenui admodum utar, 
 carptim htec cogor, et intercisis pene singulis horis, 
 vix attingere, quoe continenti stylo atque studio perse- 
 qui debnissem. Unde hoc si minus dabitur, cives meos 
 prcBstantissimos, patriae conservatores digno laudum 
 preeconio celebrare, quorum immortalia facinora jam 
 toto orbe claruerunt; defendere tamen, et ab hujus im- 
 portuni literatoris insolentia, et professoriae linguae in- 
 temperiis, vindicare baud mihi difficile futurum spero. 
 Pessime enim vel natura vel legibus comparatum foret, 
 si arguta servitus, libertas muta esset ; et haberent tj- 
 ranni qui pro se dicerent, non haberent qui tjrannos 
 debellare possunt : miserum esset, si haec ipsa ratio, 
 quo utimur Dei munere, non multo plura ad homines 
 conservandos, liberandos, et, quantum natura fert, in- 
 ter se aequandos, quam ad o])primendos et sub unius 
 imperio male perdendos, argumenta suppeditarct. 
 Causam itaque pulcherrimam hac certa fiducia laeti 
 aggrediamur; illinc fraudem, fallaciam, ignorantiam, 
 atque barbariem ; hinc lucem, veritatem, rationem, et 
 seculorum omnium optimorum studia, atque doctrinam 
 nobiscum stare. 
 
 Age nunc jam, satis prsefati, quoniam cum criticis 
 res est, tam culti voluminis titulum imprimis videamus 
 quid ait ; ' Defensio regia pro Carolo I. ad Car II.' 
 Magnum sane praestas, O quisquis es ! patrem defendis 
 ad filium ; mirum ni causam obtineas. Verum ego te 
 falso alias sub nomine, nunc sub nullo latitantem, Sal- 
 masi, ad alia voco subsellia, ad alios judiccs, ubi tu 
 
 illud euge et sopbws, quod in palaeslra tua litcraria 
 captare misere soles, fortassc non audics. Sed cur ad 
 regem filium defensio haec regia.^ nou opus est torture, 
 confitentem habemus reum ; " Sumptibus inquit rc- 
 giis." O te venalem uratorcm et sumptuosum ! Siccine 
 defensionem pro Carolo patre, tua sententia, rege opti- 
 mo, ad Carolum filium regem pauperrimum noluisti, 
 nisi sumptibus regiis ? Sed veterator etiam hand irri- 
 diculus esse voluisti, qui regiam defensionem dixeris ; 
 non enim ampliiis tua quam vendidisti, sed legitime 
 jam regia defensio est; centenis nimirum Jacobieis 
 emta, ingenti pretio ab egentissimo rege : non enim 
 ignota loquimur; novimus qui illos aureos domuni at- 
 tulit tuam, qui cruraenam illam tessellis vitreis variatam, 
 novimus qui te avaras manusporrigentem vidit,in spe- 
 ciem quidem ut Sacellanum regis missum cum munere, 
 re vera ut ipsum munus amplecterere ; et una tantiim mer- 
 cede acccpta totum pend regis aRrariumexinanires. Sed 
 cecum ipsum, crepantfores,prodithistrio in proscenium. 
 
 Date operam et cum silentio animadverli(e, 
 Ut peraoscatis quid sibi Eunuchus velit. 
 
 Nam quicquid est, praeter solitum cothurnatus inccdit. 
 ' HoiTibilis nuper nuntius aures nostras atroci Tulnere> 
 sed magis mentes, perculit, de parricidio apud Anglos 
 in persona regis sacrilegorum hominum nefaria con- 
 spiratione admisso.' Profecto nuntius iste horribilis 
 aut gladium multo longiorem eo quem strinxit Petrus 
 habuerit oportet, aut aures istae auritissimae fuerint, 
 quas tam longinquo vulnere perculerit: nam aures non 
 stolidas ne offendisse quidem potuit. Ecqua enim vo- 
 bis fit injuria, ecquis vestriim laeditur, si nos hostes et 
 perduelles nostros, sive plebeios, sive nobiles, sive re- 
 ges, morte multamus? At ista mitte, Salmasi, quae ad 
 te nihil attinent : ego enim de te etiam horribilem ha- 
 beo quem apportem iiuntium ; quique omnium gramma- 
 ticorum et criticorum aures, modo teretes habent et 
 doctas, atrociori vulnere si non perculerit, mirabor; de 
 parricidio apud Hollandos in persona Aristarchi, nefa- 
 ria Salmasii audacia, admisso : te magnum scilicet cri- 
 ticum sumptibus regiis conductum, ut defensionem re- 
 giam scriberes, non solum putidissimo exordio, praefi- 
 carum funebribus nugis et naeniis simillimo, uullius 
 non fatui mentem miseratione permovisse, sed prima 
 statim clausula risum pen6 legentibus multiplici bar- 
 barismo concitasse. Quid enim, quaeso, est parricidi- 
 um in persona regis admittere, quid in persona regis ? 
 quae, unquam latlnitas sic locuta est? nisi aliquem no- 
 bis fort6 Pseudophilippum narras, qui personam regis 
 indutus, nescio quid parricidii apud Anglos patrave- 
 rit ; quod verbum vcrius opinione tua ex ore tibi exci- 
 disse puto. Tjrannus enim, quasi histrionalis quidam 
 rex, larva tantum et persona regis, non verus rex est. 
 Caeterum ob bujusmodi noxas Gallicolatinas, quibus 
 passim scates, non tam mihi, neque enim est otium, 
 quam ipsis tuis grammatistis poenas dabis ; quibus ego 
 tederidendum et vapulandum propino. Hoc multo atro- 
 cius; quod asummis magistratibusnostrisderegestatu- 
 tum est, id sacrilegorum hominum nefaria conspiratione 
 admissum ais. Tune, furcifer, potentissimi nuper reg- 
 ni, nunc reipub. eo potentioris, acta et consulta sic no- 
 minas? quorum de factis u^ rex quidem uUus ut quic- 
 
PR^FATIO. 
 
 651 
 
 quam gravius pronuntiaret, aut scriptum ederet, addu- 
 ci adhuc potuit. Merito itaque amplissimi Ordines Hol- 
 landiae, liberatorum olim patrise vera progenies, deiensi- 
 onem haiictyraniiicam,populorum omnium libertatipes- 
 tilentissimam, edicto suo tenebris damnarunt ; cujus et 
 ipsum authorem oranis libera civitassuis prohibere fini- 
 bus, autejicere,deberet: eaque prsecipuequsetamingra- 
 tum tamque tetriim reipiiblicae bostem suo stipendio alit ; 
 cujus ille reipublicoB, baud secus atque nostrte, funda- 
 mcnta ipsa atque causas oppugnat; necnon utramque 
 una et eadem opera labefactare et subruere conatur; 
 praestantissimosque illic libertatis vindices noslrorum 
 sub nomine maledictis proscindit. Reputate jam vo- 
 biscum, illustrissimi foederatorum Ordines, et cum 
 aniniis vestris cogitate, quis hunc regice potestatis 
 assertorem ad scribendum impulerit, quis nuper apud 
 vos regie se gerere incoeperit, quce consilia, qui conatus, 
 quae turbte denique per Hollaudiam secutce sint, quae 
 nunc essent, quam vobis parata servitus, novusque do- 
 minus erat, atque ilia vestra tot annorum armis atque 
 laboribus vindicata libertas, quam prope extincta apud 
 vos nunc foret, nisi opportunissima nuper temerarii 
 juvenis morte respirasset. Sed pergit iste noster am- 
 pullari, et mirabiles tragcedias fingere, " Quoscunquc 
 infandus hie," parricidialis niniirum barbarismi Salma- 
 siani, " rumor attigit, baud secus ac si fulmine afflati 
 essent, derepente bis arrectaeque horrore comae et vox 
 faucibus haesit." Quod nunc primitus auditum discant 
 physici, comas fulmine arrectas. Verum quis hoc 
 nescit, viles et imbelles animos, magni cujuspiam faci- 
 noris vel rumore, obstupescere ; quodque pritis fuerunt, 
 tum se maxime stipites indicare. Alii " lacrymas non 
 tenuerunt," muliercuhe credo aulicce, aut siqui his mol- 
 liores; inter quos et ipse Salmasius nova quadam me- 
 tamorphosi Salmacis factus est ; et fonte hoc suo lacry- 
 marum lictitio, et nocte parato, viriles animos emoUire 
 conatur. Moneo itaque et cavere jubeo, 
 
 infamis ne queni male fortibus undis 
 
 Salmacis enen'et. ne vir cum venerit, exeat indt 
 
 Semivir, et tactis subito mollescat in undis. 
 
 " Fortius vero," inquit, " animati," (nam fortes puto et 
 animosos ne nominare quidem nisi putide potest,) tanta 
 " indignatiouis flamma exarserunt, ut vix se capcrent." 
 Fiiriosos illos non flocci facinius ; vera fortitudine 
 suique compote istos minaces pellere, et in fugam ver- 
 tcre, consuevimus. " Nemo certe non diras imprecatus 
 est tanti sceleris autlioribus." Vox tamen, ut tu modo 
 aiebas, " faucibus hivsit;" atque haesisset utinam in 
 hunc usque diem, si de nostris duntaxat perfugis hoc 
 vis intelligi, quod nos etiam pro comperto habcmus, 
 nihil illis frequentius in ore esse, quam diras et impre- 
 cationes, omnibus bonis abominandas quidem, non 
 tamen metuendas. De aliis credibile vix est, ciim 
 supplicii de rege sumti fama illuc pervenisset, reper- 
 tum in libero prcesertim populo fuisse ullum, tam ad 
 servitutem natuni, qui nos dicto laederet, aut factum 
 nostrum crimini daret; immo potius omnes bones om- 
 nia bona dixisse ; quinetiam Deo gratias egisse, qui 
 exemplum justitice tam illustre et excelsum edideret, 
 quodque coeteris regibus tam salutari dociMuento esse 
 
 possit. Istos itaque " feros ac ferreos caedem," nescio 
 cujus, "miserabilem ac mirabilem" plorantes, cum suo 
 tinnulo oratore, " post regium in orbe nomen natum 
 notumque," frigidissimo, etiam atque etiam plorare 
 jubemus. At quis interim e ludo fere puer, aut e coe- 
 nobio quovis fraterculus, casum hunc regis non multo 
 disertius, immo latinius, hoc oratore regio declamitas- 
 set? Verum ego ineptior sim, si infantiam hujus et 
 deliramenta hunc in modum toto volumiue accurate 
 persequar ; quod tamen libens facerem, (quoniam super- 
 bia et fastidio, ut ferunt, supra modum turget,) ni mole 
 tantiim libri inconcinna atque incondita se protegeret, 
 et veluti miles ille Terentianus post principia lateret: 
 callido sane consilio, ut defessus singula notando etiam 
 acerrimus quisque, taedio prius conficeretur, quam om- 
 nia redargueret. Nunc ejus quoddam specimen dare 
 hac veluti prolusione duntaxat volui ; et cordatis lec- 
 toribus a principio statim degustandum hominem prae- 
 bere, ut in hac paginae unius promulside experiamur 
 quam laute nos et luculenter ceeteris ferculis excepturus 
 sit; quantas ineptias atque infantias toto opere conges- 
 serit, qui tam densas, ubi minime decuit, in ipsa fronte 
 collocavit. Exinde multa garrientem, et scombris con- 
 cionantem, facile prtetereo; ad nostras autem res quod 
 attinet, hand dubitamus quin ea, quae authoritate par- 
 lamcnti scripta publice et declarata sunt, apud omnes 
 bonos et prudentes exteros plus ponderis habitura sint, 
 quam unius impudentissimi homuncionis calumniae, et 
 mendacia; qui ab exulibus nostris, patriae hostibus, 
 pretio conductus, quolibet eorum dictante quibus operam 
 suam locaverat, aut rumusculum spargeute, falsissima 
 quieque corradere, et in chartam conjicere, non dubita- 
 vit. Utque plane intelligant omnes quam non illi reli- 
 gio sit, quidlibet scribere, verum an falsum, pium an 
 impium, baud alius mihi testis adhibendus erit, quam 
 ipse Salmasius. Scribit is in Apparatu contra prima- 
 tum Papae, " maximas esse causas cur ecclesia redire 
 ab episcopatu debeat ad apostolicam ' presbyterorum ' 
 institutionem ; longe majus ex episcopatu introductum 
 in ecclesiam esse malum, quam ilia schisniata quue 
 prills metuebantur : pestem illam, quae ex co ecclesias 
 invasit, totum ecclesiaj corpus miserabili tyrannide 
 pessundedisse ; immo ipsos reges ac principes sub ju- 
 gum misisse; majorem in ecclesiam utilitatem redun- 
 daturam hierarchia tota extincta, quam solo capita 
 Papa." p. 169. " Posse episcopatum cum papatu tolli 
 cum summo bono ecclesias; sublato episcopatu ruere 
 ipsum papatum, super illo utpote fundatum." p. 171. 
 " Cur removeri debeat in illis regnis, quae jam papatui 
 renuntiarunt, proprias habere causas. Cur ibi episco- 
 patus retineatur se non videre; non integram videre 
 reformationera quae hac in parte imperfecta sit ; nihil 
 afferri posse rationis aut caus;e probabilis, cur sublato 
 papatu retineri debeat aut possit episcopatus." p. 197. 
 Haec et multo plura cum ante annos quatuor scripserit, 
 tanta nunc vanitate et impudentia est, ut parlamentum 
 Angliae graviter incusare hoc loco audeat, quod episco- 
 patum " non solum seuatu ejiciendum, sed etiam peni- 
 tus abjiciendum, censuerint." Quid ? quod ipsum 
 etiam episcopatum suadet atque defendit, iisdem usus 
 arguraeutis et rationibus, quas libro illo priore magno 
 
65ft 
 
 PR^FATIO. 
 
 impetu confutaverat ; " iiecessarios " ncrape " fuisse 
 episcopos, et omiiino retineudos, ne mille pestiferai 
 sectae et hereses in Aiiglia pullularent." O vafrum ct 
 versipellem ! adeone te etiam in sacris non puduit de- 
 sulturem agere, prope dixerani, ecclesiani prodcre ; 
 cujtis tu ideo sanctissima instituta tanto strcpitu asseru- 
 isse vtdcris, ut quoties tibi comniodum csset, co majore 
 cum infaiuia ca ipsa ludificari atque suhvcrtere posses. 
 Nciuiueni hoc latet, cum regiii ordiues, ecclesiaj nos- 
 tra;, ad exemplum caeterarinn, reformandae studio fla- 
 grantes, episcopatum funditus tollere statuisscnt, primo 
 regem intercessisse, dein bellum nobis ea potissimum 
 causu intulisse ; quod ipsi tandem in peniicicm vertit. I 
 nunc, et te dcfensorem regium esse gloriare, qui, ut re- 
 gem gnaritcr defendas, susceptam d temetipso ccclesiee 
 causam nunc palam prodis atquc oppugnas : cujus 
 gravissima quidem censura esses notandus. Dc forma 
 autem reipub. nostrce, quoniam tu, professor triobolaris 
 et extrancus, rcmotis capsulis atquc scriuiis tuis nuga- 
 rum rcfertissimis, quas melius in ordinem redigere po- 
 teras, in alicna repub. satagcre et odiosus esse mavis, 
 sic breviter tibi, vel cuivis potius te prudentiori, re- 
 spondeo ; cam formam esse quara nostra tempora atque 
 dissidia ferunt ; non qualis optanda esset, sed qualem 
 obstinata improborum civium discordia esse patitur. 
 Qute autem respublica factionibus laborat, atque armis 
 se tuetur, si sanee et integrje tantum partis rationem 
 habet, cceteros sive plebeios sive optimates praeterit aut 
 cxcludit, satis profecto sequa est ; quamvis regem et 
 proceres, suis ipsa mails edocta, amplius nolit. " Con- 
 ciliam" autem illud " supremum," quod insectaris, 
 atque etiam " concilii prscsidem," nae tu ridiculus es ; 
 concilium enim illud, quod somnias, non est supremum, 
 sed parlaraenti autlioritate ad certum duntaxat tcmpus 
 constitutum, quadraginta virorum ex suo fere numero, 
 quorum quilibet, coeterorum suffragiis, pneses esse po- 
 test. Semper autem hoc usitatissiraum fuit, ut par- 
 lamentum, qui noster senatus est, delectos ex suorum 
 numero pauciores, quoties visum erat, constitueret : iis 
 unum in locum ubivis conveniendi, et veluti minoris 
 cujusdam habcndi senatus, potestas delata est. lisdem 
 res sapp6 gravissimee, quo celerius et majori cum silen- 
 tio transigerentur, commissee atque creditee; classis, 
 exercitus, cerarii cura aut procuratio, qutevis denique 
 pacis aut belli munia. Hoc, sive concilium nominetur, 
 sive quid aliud, verbo forte novum, re antiquum est ; 
 et sine quo nulla omnino rcspub. recte administrari 
 potest. De regis autem supplicio, et rerum apud nos 
 conversione, mitte vociferari, mitte virus illud tuum 
 acerbitatis evomere ; donee ista " qua lege, quo jure, 
 quo judicio" facta sint, te licet repugnante, singulis 
 capitibus ostendam, et pedem conferam. Si tamcn in- 
 stas " quo jure, qua lege," ea, inquam, lege quam Deus 
 ipse et natura sanxit, ut omnia, qute reipub. salutaria 
 assent, legitima et justa haberentur. Sic olim sapi- 
 entes tui similibus responderuut. " Leges per tot an- 
 nus ratas refixisse" nos criminaris; bonasne an malas 
 non dicis, nee si diceres audiendus esses, nam nostroe 
 leges ole quid ad te ? Utinam plures refixissent tum 
 leges, tum leguleios; rectiiis sane et rei christianse et 
 populo cousuluisscnt. Frendes quod " htec, Manii, 
 
 tcrrtc-filii, vix domi nobiles, vix suis noti, licerc siiii 
 crcdidcrint." Mcminisscs quae te non solum libri 
 sacri, sed etiam Ijricus doceat. 
 
 Valet ima summis 
 
 Alutarc, et insignem attenuat Deus 
 Obscura promens 
 
 Sic etiam habcto ; corum, quos tu vix nobiles esse ais, 
 alios nulli vcstrarum partium vel generis nobilitatc 
 cedere; alios ex se natos per industriam atque virtntcm 
 ad veram nobilitatem iter affectare, ct cum nobilissimis 
 quibusque posse conferri ; se autem malle " filios tcr- 
 roe " dici, modo suir, et domi strenue facere, quam sine 
 terra et lare fumos vendendo, quod tu facis, homo nibili 
 et stramincus eques, in alicna terra dominorum nutu et 
 stipcndio faniem tolerarc : ab ista, milii crede, peregri- 
 natione ad agnatos potius et gentiles dcducendus, nisi 
 hoc unum saperes, quod frivolas quasdam prtelectiones 
 et nugamenta scis tanta mercede apud exteros effulire. 
 Reprehendis quod magistratus nostri " colluvicm om- 
 nium sectarum recipiant;" quid ni recipiant.'' quos ec- 
 clesioe est e coetu fidelium ejiccre, non magistratuum e 
 civitate pellere ; siquidem in leges civiles non peccant. 
 Primo homines, ut tuto ac libere sine vi atque injuriis 
 vitam agerent, convenere in civitatem ; ut sancte et 
 religiose, in ecclesiam ; ilia leges, haec disciplinam ha- 
 bet suam, plane diversam : bine toto orbe christiano 
 per tot aunos bellum ex bello seritur, quod magistratus 
 et ecclcsia inter se officia confundunt. Quapropter et 
 papisticam minime toleramus; neque enim earn tam 
 esse religionem iutclligimus, quam obtentu religionis 
 tyrannidem pontificiam civilis potentioe spoliis ornatam, 
 qua? contra ipsum Christi institutum ad se rapuit. 
 " Independentes," quales a te solo finguntur, nulli 
 apud nos unquara visi ; prsetcr eos duntaxat qui, ciim 
 classes et synodos supra ecclesiam quamque singularem 
 esse non agnoscant, eas omnes velut hierarchite par- 
 ticulas quasdam, aut certe truncum ipsum, eradicandas 
 esse tecum sentiunt. Hinc nomen Indcpcndentiura 
 apud vulgus obtinuit. Quod restat ; video te id agere, 
 ut regum omnium et monarcharum non invidiam solum, 
 sed etiam bellum atrocissimum, in nos concites. Olim 
 rex Mithridates, quamvis causa dissimili, omnes reges 
 in Homanos concitabat, eadem prope calumniatus; 
 Romanis consilium esse, omnia rcgna subvertcre, iis 
 nulla humana neque divina obstare, a principio nihil 
 nisi partum armis habuisse, latroncs, regnorum max- 
 ime hostes : hrec Mithridates regi Arsaei: tc vcro in 
 ilia tua exedra infantissime rhetoricantem quse fiducia 
 proxevit, ut ad bellum hortando, et licet nolis videri, 
 " classicum canendo," ullum vel inter pucros regem 
 commovere te posse animum induceres ; isto propsertim 
 ore tam exili et rancidulo, ut ne mures quidem Ho- 
 mericos, te buccinatore, bellum unquam ranunculis 
 illaturos fuisse credam? Tantum abest ut mctuam 
 quid tu belli nobis aut periculi, homo ignavissimc, apud 
 exteros reges ista tua rabida ct insulsa simul facundia 
 conflare possis : qui ad illos, ac si " regum capita" 
 quasi " pilas habeamus, de coronis quasi trocho luda- 
 mus,sceptraimpcrialianon pluris faciamusquam bacula 
 morionum capitata," lusorie sane nos defers. At tu 
 
PRiEFATIO. 
 
 iiitcica, stultissimum caput, morionis ipse baculo dig'- 
 iiissimus es, qui reges ac principes tam puerilibus argu- 
 nicntis ad bcllum suaderi putes. Oranes deinde popu- 
 ]os inclamas, dicto audientes tuo, sat scio, minime 
 futures. Hibernorum etiam cousceleratam illam ac 
 barbaram colluviem regiis partibus in auxilium vocas. 
 Quod unicum indicio esse potest, quam scelestus sis et 
 vsecors, quam omnes pene mortales impietate, audacia, 
 et furore, superes, qui devotee gentis fidem atque 
 opcm implorare non dubitas, cujus ab impia societate, 
 tot civium innocentissimorum sanguine perfusa, etiam 
 rex ipse aut abhorruit semper, aut abhorrere se si- 
 mulavit. Et quam ille perfidiam, quam ille crudeli- 
 tatem occultare, quantum potuit, atque ab se longe 
 amovere, summo studio contendit, earn tu, bipedum 
 nequissime, quo minus ultro atque palam suscipias, 
 neque Deum neque homines vereris. Agedum ; 
 Hibernis igitur fautoribus ac sociis ad defensionem re- 
 gis jam te accinge. Caves imprimis, quod cauto me- 
 hercule opus erat, nequis te Tullio fortasse aut Demos- 
 theni omuem eloquentise laudem praereptum ire suspi- 
 caretur ; et prtedicis, " oratorio more uon tibi ag'endum 
 videri." Nte tu baud stuite sapis ; id quod non potes, 
 non videtur tibi esse agendum ; oratorie autem ut tu 
 ageres, quis, qui te satis novit, unquam expectavit ? 
 qui nihil elaborate, nihil distinct^, nihil quod sapiat, 
 
 in lucem emittere aut soles aut potes ; sed veluti Cris- 
 pinus alter, aut Tzetzes ille groeculus, modo ut multum 
 scribas, qu&m recte, non laboras ; neque si labores 
 valeas. " Agetur," inquis, " baec causa, toto orbe au- 
 diente, et quasi ad judicandum sedente." Id adeo 
 nobis pergratum est, ut adversarium non cerebrosum et 
 imperitum, qualis tu es, sed cordatum et intelligentem 
 dari jam nobis optemus. Perorans plane tragicus es, 
 immo Ajax ipse Lorarius : " Horum ego injustitiam, 
 impietatem, perfidiam, crudelitatem, proclamabo coelo 
 et terrse, ipsosque authores convictos posteris tradam, 
 reosque peragam." O Flosculos ! Tune igitur sine 
 sale, sine g'enio, proclamator et rabula, bonis authori- 
 bus divexandis tantum aut transcribendis natus, quic- 
 quam de tuo quod vivat producere te putas posse ? 
 quem una cum scriptis tuis futilissimis abreptum eetas, 
 mihi crede, proxima oblivioni mandabit. Nisi si dc- 
 fensio hsec regia suo fortasse responso aliquid debitura 
 est, si neglecta jam pridem et consopita, in manus ite- 
 rum sumatur. Idque ego ab illustrissimis Hollandiee 
 Ordinibus peterera, ut earn 6 fisco protinus dimissam, 
 neque enim thesaurus est, pervagari, quo velit, sinaut. 
 Si enim qua vanitate, inscitia, falsitate, referta sit, 
 planum omnibus fecero, quo latius excurrit, eo arctius, 
 mea quidem sententia, supprimitur. Jam nos quem- 
 admodum " reos neragat," videamus. 
 
 DEFENSIO PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 CLAUDII SALMASII DEFENSIONEM REGIAM. 
 
 CAPUT I. 
 
 QuoNiAM tibi, vano homini et veutoso, multum hinc 
 forsitan superbiae, Salmasi, multum spiritiis accessit, 
 magnte scilicet Britanniee regem fidei defensorem esse, 
 tevero regis, ego quidem et ilium regi tituluni,ct hunc 
 tibi jure pari ac merito concedam : cum sane rex fidem, 
 tu regem sic defenderis, ut causam uterque suam ever- 
 tisse potius videatur. Quod cum passim infra, tum 
 hoc primo capite ostendam. Dixeras tu quidem prse- 
 fationis pagina duodecima " ornari pigmentis rhetoricis 
 tam bonam et justam causam non debere : nam sim- 
 pliciter rem, ut gesta est, narrare, regem defendere est." 
 Quando igitur toto hoc capite, in quo narrationem illam 
 simplicem futuram poUicitus eras, neque rem simplici- 
 ter, ut gesta est, narras, neque non pigmentis, quantum 
 in eo genere consequi potes, rhetoricis ornas, profecto 
 vel tuo judicio si standum esset, causa regia neque 
 bona neque justa erit. Quanquam hoc cave tibi sumas 
 quod dat nemo, posse te quicquam rhetoric^ narrare ; 
 qui neque oratoris, neque historici, immo ne caussidici 
 quidem partes narrando sustincre potes ; sed quasi cir- 
 
 culator quispiam, arte circumforanea, magnam de te 
 in procemio, velut in posterum diem, expectationem 
 concitabas, non tam ut rem promissam tum demiim 
 narrares, quam ut pigmenta ilia misera, et ampullas 
 fuco refertas, lectoribus quam plurimis divenderes. 
 Nam " de facto dicturus tot novitatum monstris te cir- 
 cundari ac terreri sentis, ut quid primum exequaris, 
 quid deinde, quid postremo, nescias." Hoccine est 
 simpliciter narrare? Dicam quod res est, tot tuorum 
 ipse mendaciorura monstris primum terreri te sentis, 
 deinde tot nugis, tot ineptiis levissimura illud caput 
 non " circundari" solum, sed circumagi, " ut quid pri- 
 mum, quid deinde, quid postremo" dicendum ullo tem- 
 pore sit, non modo nunc " nescias," sed nunquam antea 
 non nesciveris. " Inter difficultates quae occurrunt 
 ad exprimendam tam incredibilis flagitii immanitatem 
 hoc unum facile dictu suppetit, quod iterum iterumque 
 repeti debet," nempe " solem ipsum atrocius factuni 
 nunquam adspexisse alterum." Multa sol aspexit, 
 bone magister, quae Bemardus non vidit. Solem autem 
 
654 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 iterum atque itcrum repetas licebit, id tu quideni pru- 
 deiiter feccris, quod iion nostra Hagitia, sed defeiisiunis 
 tuae friffus veheraeiitissimti postulabit. " Reg^uin," 
 inquis, " orig'o cum sole novo coepit." Dii te, Dauia- 
 sippe, deurque solstitiu donent, quo te calfacias, qui nc 
 pedem sine " sole ;" nequis fortasse te umbraticum 
 doctorem esse dicat. At hcrcle etiam in tenebris cs, 
 qui jus patrium a regfio non distinf^fuis : et cum rcj^^cs 
 patriae patres nominaveris, ca statim metaphora per- 
 suasisse credis, ut quicquid de patre non ncgaverini, 
 id continue de rege \'erum esse concedam. Pater ct 
 rex diversissima sunt. Pater nos gcnuit ; at non rex 
 iios, sed nos regera creaviraus. Patrcm natura dedit 
 populo, reg«m ipse populus dedit sibi ; non ergo prop- 
 ter regem populus, sed propter populum rex est ; feri- 
 mus patrem, niorosum etiam et durum, ferimus et 
 regem ; sed ne patrem quidem ferimus tyrannum. 
 Pater si tiliuni interficit, capite pcenas dabit : cur non 
 item rex eadem justissima lege tenebitur, si populum, 
 id est, filios suos, perdiderit ? preesertim cum pater, ut 
 ne pater sit, efficere non possit, rex facile possit, ut ne- 
 que pater sit neque rex. Quod si " de facti qualitate," 
 quod ais, " inde" cestimandum est, tibi dico, peregrine, 
 et rebus nostris alienissime, testis oculatus et indigena 
 tibi dico ; nos regem neque " bonum," neque " justum," 
 neque " clementum," neque " religiosum," neque 
 " pium," neque " pacificum ;" sed hostem prope decen- 
 ualem ; nee parentem patriae, sed vastatorem, " de 
 medio sustulisse." " Solet hoc fieri," fateris, inficias 
 enim ire non audes, " sed non a reformatis, regi re- 
 forraato." Siquidem reformatus is dici potest, qui, 
 scriptis ad papam literis, sanctissimum appellaverat pa- 
 trem, qui papistis eequior semper quam orthodoxis fuit. 
 Talis cum fuerit, ne sute quidem familiee primus a re- 
 formatis est " de medio" sublatus. Quid? ejus avia 
 Maria nonne a reformatis exuto regno solum vertere 
 coacta est, supplicio demum capitis affecta, ne Scotis 
 quidem reformatis segre ferentibus ? immo si operam 
 contulisse dicam, baud mentiar. In tanta autem regum 
 " reformatorum " paucitate, nihil hujusmodi accidissc, 
 ut eoruni aliquis morte plecteretur, non est quod mire- 
 mur. Licere autem regem nequam, sive tjrannum, 
 regno pellere, vel supplicio quovis, prout meritus erit, 
 punire, (etiam summorum sententia theologorum, qui 
 ipsi reformandseecclesiaeauthores fuere,) aude tu modo 
 negare. Concedis quam plurimos reges non sicca 
 morte periisse, hunc " gladio," ilium " vencno," alium 
 squalore " carceris," aut " laqueo." Omnium tamen 
 hoc tibi miserrimum videtur, et monstri quiddam si- 
 mile, regem in judicium adduci, " causam capitis dicere 
 coactum, condcmuatura, securi percussum." Die mihi, 
 homo insipientissime, annon humanius, annon sequins, 
 annon ad legis omnium civitatum accommodatius est, 
 cujuscunque criminis reum in judicio sistere, sui de- 
 fendendi copiam facere, lege condemnatum ad mortem 
 baud immeritam ducere, ita ut damnato vel poenitendi, 
 vel se colligendi. spatium detur, quam statim ut pre- 
 hensus est, indicta, causa, pecudis in modum mactare ? 
 Quotusquisque est reorum, qui, si optio detur, non illo 
 potiiis quam hoc modo puniri se maluerit ? Quje ratio 
 igitur animadvcrtendi in civem moderatior est habita, 
 
 cur non eadem in regem quoque moderatior, et vel ipsi 
 regi acceptior, fuisse existinianda est ? Tu secreto et 
 sine arbitris extinctuui regem malcbns, vel ut exempli 
 tam boni salubritate omnis memoria carerct, vel ut fatii 
 tam preeclari conscientia defugisse lueem, aut legi 
 atque ipsam justitiam minime sibi amicam habuisse, 
 videretur. Exaggeras deinde rem, quod neque per 
 tumultum aut factiouem optimatium, ant rcbcllium 
 furorem, sive milituni sive populi ; non odio, non metu, 
 non studio dominandi, non caeco animi impetu, sed 
 consilio et ratiouc, meditatum diu facinus peregerint. 
 O merito quidem ex te jurisconsulto grammaticum ! 
 qui ab accidentibus causa;, ut loquuntur, qu;e per se 
 nihil valent, vituperationes instituis, cum nondum do- 
 cueris illud facinus in vitio an in laude ponendum sit: 
 jam vide quam in te facile incurram. Si pulchrum et 
 decorum fuit ; eo magis laudandi quod, nullis afFecti- 
 bus occupati, solius honestatis causa fecerint; si ar- 
 duum et grave, quod non cacco impetu, sed consilio ct 
 ratione. Quanquam ego ha;c divino potius instinctu 
 gesta esse crediderim, quoties memoria repeto, quam 
 inopinato animorum ardore, quanto consensu totus 
 exercitus, cui magna pars populi se adjunxerat, ab 
 omnibus pen6 regni proviuciis una voce regem ipsum 
 suorum omnium malorum authorem ad supplicium 
 deposcebat. Quicquid erat, sive magistrum sive po- 
 pulum spectes, nulli unquam excelsiore animo, et, quod 
 etiam adversarii fatentur, sedatiore, tam egregium fa- 
 cinus et vel heroicis setatibus dignum, aggressi sunt: 
 quo non leges tantum et judicia, dehinc mortalibus ex 
 aequo restituta, sed ipsam justitiam nobilitarunt, seque 
 ipsa illustriorem dehinc, seque ipsa majorem post hoc 
 insigne judicium, reddidere. Jam tertiam prope hujus 
 capitis paginam exantlavimus, nee tamen ilia simplex 
 narratio, quam promisit, usquam apparet. Queritur 
 nos docere, " quoties rex moleste et odiose regnat, im- 
 pune posse regno exui : ab hac," inquit, " doctrina 
 inducti, si mille rebus meliorem regem habuissent, non 
 ei vitam conservassent." Spectate hominis acumen ; 
 nam istuc aveo ex te scire, quo pacto hoc sequitiir, nisi 
 tu nobis concesseris, nostro rege mille rebus meliorem 
 moleste et odiose regnare ; unde in eum deductus es 
 locum, ut hunc quem defendis, iis regibus qui moleste 
 et odiose regnant mille rebus deteriorem facias; id est 
 tjrannorum omnium fortasse immanissimum. Macti 
 estote reges tam strenuo defensore. Nunc narrare in- 
 cipit. " Torserunt eum variis crucibus." Die quibus. 
 " De carcere in carcerem traduxerunt." Nee injuria, 
 quippe ex tjranno hostem bello captum. " Custodiis 
 soepe mutatis :" ne ipsa; mutarent fidera. " Libertatis 
 interdum spe ostensa, interdum et rcstitutionis per pac- 
 tionem." Vide quam non antea meditatum nobis fuerit, 
 quam non " tempora et modos " diu captavimus regis 
 abdicandi. Quas res ab eo tum propemodum victore 
 multo ante postulavimus, quae nisi concederentur, nulla 
 libertas, nulla salus populo speranda erat, easdem a 
 captivo suppliciter, baud semel, immo ter et amplius 
 petivimus; toties repulsam accepimus. Cum nulla dc 
 rege spes reliqua esset, fit parlamenti consultum illud 
 nobile, nequa deinceps ad regem postulata mitterentur; 
 non ex quo is tyrannus esse, sed ex quo insanabilis 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 655 
 
 esse, coepit. Postea tamen quidam ex senatorum nu- 
 mero nova sibi consilia capientes, et idoneum tempiis 
 nacti, conditiones iterum regi ferendas decernunt; pari 
 sane scelere atque dementia ac Romanus olim senatus, 
 reclamante Marco Tullio et cum eo bonis omnibus, le- 
 gatos decrevit ad Antonium : pari etiam eventu, nisi 
 Deo immortali visum aliter fuisset, illos in servitutem 
 tradere, nos in libertatem vindicare. Nam cum rex 
 nihilo plus quam antea concessisset, quod ad firmam 
 pacem et compositionem revera spectaret, illi tamen 
 satisfactum sibi a rege esse statuunt. Pars itaque 
 sanior, cum se remque publicam prodi videret, fidem 
 fortissimi et semper reipub. fidissimi exercitus implorat. 
 In quo mihi quidem hoc solum occurrit quod nolim 
 dicere, nostras legiones rectiora sensisse quam patres 
 conscriptos: et salutem reipub. armis attulisse, quam 
 illi suis suffragiis prope damnaverant. Multa deinde 
 flebiliter narrat, verum tam insciti^, ut luctum emendi- 
 care, non commovere, videatur. Dolet, quod " eo modo, 
 quo nullus unquam, rex supplicium capitis passus sit:" 
 cum soepius affirmaverit, nullum unquam rcgem sup- 
 plicium capitis omnino esse passum. Tune, fatue, mo- 
 dum cum modo conferre soles, ubi factum cum facto 
 quod conferas non babes ? " Supplicium," inquit, 
 " capitis passus est, ut latro, ut sicarius, ut parricida, 
 ut proditor, ut tyrannus." Hoccine est regem de- 
 fendere, an sententiam de rege ferre, ea sand quae a 
 nobis lata est, multo severiorera ? quis te tam subito 
 pellcxit ut nobiscum pronuntiares ? Queritur " person- 
 ates carnifices regi caput amputasse." Quid hoc ho- 
 mine facias ? questus est supra " de parricidio in per- 
 sona regis admisso," nunc in persona carnificis admis- 
 sum queritur. Quid reliqua percurram, partim falsis- 
 sima, partim frivola " de pugnis et calcibus " militum 
 grcgariorum, et licentia " spectandi cadaveris quatuor 
 solidis taxata," quae frigidissimi literatoris inscitiam et 
 pusillitatem animi clamitant ; legentem certd neminem 
 pilo tristiorem reddere possunt : satius mehercule 
 fuisset Carolo filio, quenivis ex eo balatronum grcge 
 conduxisse, qui ad coronam in triviis elegidia cantant, 
 quam oratorera hunc, (luctificabilem dicara, an perridi- 
 culum ?) deplorando patris infortunio adhibuisse ; tam 
 insipidum et insulsum, ut ne ex lacrjmis quidem ejus 
 mica salis exiguissima possit exprimi. Narrare jam 
 desiit ; et quid deinde agat, dictu sand difficile est; 
 adeo lutulentus et enormis fluit; nunc fremit, nunc 
 oscitat, nullum quidlibet garriendi modum sibi statuit, 
 vel deeies eadem repetendi.qutene semel quidem dicta 
 non sordescerent. Et cert6 nescio, an blateronis cujus- 
 piam extemporales qucelibet nugse, quas ille uno pede 
 stans versiculis fortd effuderit, non digniores multo sint 
 quae charta illinantur ; adeo indignissimas esse reor 
 quibus serio respondeatur. Praetereo quod regem 
 " religionis protectorem " laudat, qui ecclesise bellum 
 intulit, ut episcopos religionis hostes et tjrannos in 
 ecclesia retineret. " Puritatem autem religionis " qui 
 potuit is conservare, ab impurissimis episcoporum tra- 
 ditionibus et caeremoniis ipse sub jugum missus ? 
 " Sectarum " vero, quii)us tu " sacrilegos suos coetus 
 tenendi licentiam " ais " dari," quam ipsa Hollandia 
 non dat, errores velim euumeres : interim nemo te 
 
 magis sacrilegus, qui perpetuo maledicendi pessimam 
 omnium licentiam tibi sumis. " Non poterant gra- 
 viiis rempubl. laedere quam ejus dominura tollendo." 
 Disce, verna, disce, mastigia, nisi domiuum tollis, tollis 
 rempublicam : privata res est, non publica qute donii- 
 num habet. " At pastores facinus eorum abominantes 
 cum summa injustitia persequuntur." Pastores illos ne- 
 quis forte nesciat quales sint, breviter dicam ; iidem 
 sunt qui regi resistendum armis esse, et verboet scriptis 
 docuerunt; quiomnes tanquam Merozum indesinenier 
 execrari non destiteruut, quotquot huic bello aut arma, 
 aut pecuniam, aut vires, non suppeditassent ; quod illi 
 non contra regem, sed contra tyrannum Saule quovis 
 aut Achabo, immo Nerone ipso, Neroniorem susceptum 
 esse in concionibus sacris vaticinabantur. Sublatis 
 episcopis et sacerdotibus, quos pluralistarum et non re- 
 sidentium nomine insectari vehementissime solebant, 
 in eorum amplissima sacerdotia, hie bina, ille trina, 
 quam ocyssime irruebant : unde suos greges quam 
 turpiter negligant pastores isti merito egregii nemo 
 non videt : nullus pudor, nulla numinis reverentia, de- 
 mentes cupiditate et furiatos cohibere potuit, donee 
 pessimo ecclesioe publico eadem ipsi infamiaflagrarent, 
 quam paulo ante sacerdotibus inusserant. Nunc quod 
 avaritia eorum nondum satiata est, quod inquies ambi- 
 tione animus turbas concire, pacem odisse, consuevit, 
 in magistratus qui nunc sunt, id quod priiis in regem 
 fecerant, seditiose concionari non desinunt; rcgem 
 scilicet pium crudeliter sublatum ; quem modo ipsi 
 diris omnibus devotum, omni authoritate regia spo- 
 liandum, et bello sacro persequendum, in manus 
 parlamento, quasi divinitus, tradiderant; sectas scilicet 
 non extirpari, quod certe a magistratibus postularc per- 
 absurdum est, qui avaritiam et ambitionem, qu£E duse 
 in ecclesia htereses perniciosissimoe sunt, ex ipsorum 
 ordine pastorum ac tribu,nullo adhuc modo autratione 
 extirpare valuerunt. Quas illi sectas apud nos insectan- 
 tur, obscuras esse scio, quas ipsi sequuntur, famosas, et 
 ecclesice Dei longe periculosiores ; quarum principes 
 Simon ille Magus et Diotrephes fuere. IIos tamen, 
 nequissimi cum sint, adeo non persequimur, ut factiosis, 
 et res novas quotidie molientibusniraium indulgeanuis. 
 Offendit jam te Galium et errabundum, quod Angli 
 " suis molossis," quce tua canina facundia est, " fero- 
 ciores," nullam " legitimi successoris et haeredis " 
 regni, nullam " natu minimi," nullam " reginse Bohe- 
 miiE " rationera habuerint. Tute respondebis tibi, non 
 ego. " Ubi reipub. forma mutatur ex monarchica in 
 aliam, non datur successio inter difTerentis regimiuis 
 curatores." Apparat. de Primatu. " Minima," inquis, 
 " regni unius pars " hsec omnia " per tria regna " ef- 
 fecit : et digni quidem, si hoc verum esset, quibus in 
 caeteros imperium sit, viris in fceniinas. " Isti sunt 
 qui regimen regni antiquum in alium qui a plnribus 
 tyrannis teneatur, mutare proesumpserunt ;" recte qui- 
 dem illi et feliciter ; quos tu reprehendere non potes, 
 quin simul foedissimd barbarus et solcecus sis, non mo- 
 ribus solum, sed syntaxi etiam, grammaticorum oppro- 
 brium. " Angli maculam banc uunquam deleverint." 
 Immo tu, licdt omnium literatorum litura ipse sis, et 
 vere macula, Anglorum tamen famam et sempiternam 
 
656 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLIC A NO DEFENSIO. 
 
 gloriam nunquam valucris commaculare. Qui tanta 
 aninii tnag'nitudiiie, quanta omni mcmoria vix audita 
 est, lion hostes tautum armatos, sed hostilcs intus, id 
 est, superstitiosas vul^i opiniones eluctati atque super- 
 gressi, liberatomm cognomen posthac per oinnesgentes 
 in commune sibi pepcrcrunt : popularitcr id ausi, quod 
 apud alias nationes lieroicte tantiim virtutis esse ex- 
 istimatur. " Rcformati et antiqui christiani '' quid bac 
 in parte fecerint, aut facturi cssent, turn respondebi- 
 musi, cum de jure tecum suo loco agetur ; ne tuo vitio 
 ]aboremus, qui gerrones omnes et battos loquacitate vin- 
 cis. Quieris quid sis in nostra causa Jesuitis responsurus. 
 Tuas res age, transfuga; pudcat te facinorum tuorum, 
 quando ecclesiam tui pudet; qui primatum papoe, et 
 episcopos, tam jactanter modo et ferociter adortus, nunc 
 episcoporum assecia factus es. Fateris "aliquos refor- 
 matorum," quos non nominas, (ego taroen nominabo, 
 quoniam tu eos " Jesuitis long^ pejores esse " ais, Lu- 
 therum ncmpe, Zuinglium, Calvinum, Bucerum, Pa- 
 rteum, cum aliis multis,) docuisse, "amoTcndum esse" 
 tjraunum : •' quis autem sit tjrannus ad judicium 
 sapientium et doctorum se retulisse. Isti vero qui ? an 
 sapientes, an docti, an virtute nobiles, an nobilitate il- 
 lustres." Liceat, queeso, populo, qui servitutis jugum 
 in cervicibus grave sentit, tam sapienti esse, tam docto, 
 tamque nobili, ut sciat quid tjranno suo faciendum sit, 
 etiamsi neque exteros, neque gramraaticos sciscitatum 
 mittat Tyrannum autem fuisse hunc, non Anglia; so- 
 liim et Scotiee parlamenta citm verbis tum factis discr- 
 tissimis declaraverunt, sed totus fer^ utriusque rcgni 
 populus assentitus est ; donee episcoporum technis et 
 fraudibus in duas postea factiones discessit. Quid si 
 Deus, qucmadmodum eos qui lucis evangelicie parti- 
 cipes fiaut, ita eos qui decreta ejus in reges bujus mun- 
 di potentissimos exequantur, non niultos sapientes aut 
 doctos, non multos potentes, non multos nobiles esse 
 Toluit? ut per eos qui non sunt aboleret eos qui sunt; 
 ut ne glorietur caro coram eo. Tu quis es qui oblatras ? 
 an doctus? qui spicilegia, qui Icxica et glossaria ad 
 sencctutem usque trivisse potiiis videris, qucim authores 
 bouos cum judicio aut fructu perlegisse ? unde nil prae- 
 ter codices, et varias lectiones, et luxatum et mendo- 
 sum, crepas ; doctrinic solidioris ne guttulam quidera 
 hausisse te ostcndis. An tu sapiens ? qui de minutiis 
 minutissimis rixari et mendicorum bella gerere soles, 
 qui nunc astronomis, nunc medicis, in sua arte credcn- 
 dis, imperitus ipse et rudis, convitia dicis; qui, siquis 
 tibi voculfe unius aut literulce in exemplari quovis ab 
 te restitutce gloriolani prteripere conaretur, igni et aqua, 
 si posses, illi interdiceres? Et tamen stomacharis, et 
 tamen ringeris, quod omnes te grammaticum appellant. 
 Hamondum, nuper regis bujus sacellanum imprimis 
 dilectissimum, in libro quodam nugatorio, nebulonem 
 appellas, quod is te grammaticum appellavisset : idem, 
 credo, esses ipsi regi convitium facturus, et defensionem 
 banc totam retractaturus, si sacellani sui de te judicium 
 apprubasse audivisses. Jam vide quam te Anglorum 
 unus, quos tu " fanaticos, indoctos, obscuros, improbos," 
 vocitare audes, contemnam et ludibrio habeam, (nam 
 nationem ipsam Anglicanam de te quicquam public^ 
 cogitare curculiunculo, indignissimum csset,) qui sur- 
 
 siim, deorsiim, quoquoversum rersatus et Tolutatus, 
 nibil nisi grammaticus es: immo ac si Deo cuilibet 
 votuni ipso Midastultius nuncupasscs, quicquid attrcc- 
 tas, nisi cum soloecismos facis, gramniatica est. Quis- 
 quis igitur " de feece ilia plebis," quam tu exagitas, 
 (illos enim ver^ optimates nostros, quorum sapicntiam, 
 virtutem, et nobilitatem, facta inclyta satis testantur, 
 non sic dcbonestabo, ut te illis, aut tibi illos componcre 
 velim,) quisquis, inquam, de ftcce ilia plebis hoc tan- 
 tummodo sibi persuaserit, non esse se regibus uatuni, 
 sed Deo et patri;e, multo san6 te doctior, multo sapi- 
 entior, multo probior, et ad omnem vitam utilior, ex- 
 istimandus crit. Nam doctus ille sine literis, tu litera- 
 tus sine doctrina; qui tot linguas calles, tot volumiua 
 percurris, tot scribis, et tamen pccus es. 
 
 CAPUT II. 
 
 Quod argumentum pro se " indubitatum " esse, supe- 
 riore capite perorans dixerat Salmattius, " rem ita se 
 habere ut creditur, ciim omnes unanimiter idem de ea 
 sentiant;" quod tamen is " de facto" falsissime affir- 
 mabat, id ego nunc, de jure regio disceptaturus, potero 
 in ipsum verissime affirmare. Cum enim rcgem defi- 
 niat, " cujus suprema est in regno potestas, nulli alii 
 nisi Deo obnoxia, cui quod libct licet, qui legibus solu- 
 tus est," siquidem id definiri diccndum est, quod infi- 
 nitum in terris ponitur: evincam ego contra, non meis 
 tantum, sed vel ipsius testimoniis, et rationibus, nullam 
 gentem aut populura, qui quidem ullo numero sit, nam 
 omnem penetrare barbariem necesse non est, nullam, in- 
 quam, gentem istiusmodi jura aut potestatem regi con- 
 cessisse, "ut legibus solutus esset, utquod libet liceret, 
 ut omnes judicaret, a nemine judicaretur;" nee vero 
 ullum, cujuscunque gentis tam servili ingenio exsti- 
 tisse puto, prceter unum Salmasium, qui tyranno- 
 rum immania quaeque flagitia regum jura esse asseve- 
 rarit. Eorum plerique apud nos, qui regi maxime 
 favebant, ab hac tam turpi sententia semper abborrucrc; 
 quinetiam ipse, nondum pretio corruptus, his de rebus 
 \ongh aliter sensisse aliis jampridem scriptis facile de- 
 prehenditur. Adeo ut hcec non ab homine libero in 
 libera civitate, nedum in repub. nobilissima, et Bata- 
 vorum academia celeberrima, sed in ergastulo quovis 
 ant catastra, tam servili vernilitatc scripta esse videan- 
 tur. Etenim, si quicquid regi libet, id jure regio lici- 
 tum crit, (quod teterrinius ille Antoninus Caracalla, ab 
 Julia noverca per incestum edoctus, non statim ausus 
 est credere,) nemo profecto est, aut unquam fuit, qui 
 tyrannus dici debeat. Cum enim divina omnia atque 
 bumana jura violavit, nihilo tamen minus rex, jure re- 
 gio insons erit. Quid enim peccavit homo jequissimus? 
 jure suo usus est in suos. Nihil rex tam horreudum, 
 tam crudele, tamque furiosum, committere in suos po- 
 test, quod prreter jus regium fieri quispiam possit queri 
 aut expostulare. Hoc " tu jus regium a jure gentium, 
 vel potiiis naturali, originera habere" statuis, bellua? 
 Quid enim homiiicm te dicam, qui in omne hominum 
 genus adeo iniquus et inhumanus es ; quique omnem 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 657 
 
 gentem buraanam, Deo siraillimam, sic deprimere at- 
 que projicere conaris, ut qnos nunc superstitio, nunc 
 scelus aut igfnavia quorundam, aut denique perfidia, 
 tam feros atque immites dominos jjentibus imposuit, eos 
 a natura matre mitissima comparatos atque impositos 
 esse doceas. Qua tu nefaria doctrina multo jam fero- 
 ciores factos, non solum ad proterendos omnes mortales, 
 et posthac niiseriorcm in modum conculcandos, immit- 
 tis, sed jure naturali, jure reyio, ipsis etiara populi leg'i- 
 bus, in populum arniare, quo nibil simul stultius et 
 sceleratius esse potest, contendis. Dignus profecto qui, 
 contra atque olira Dionysius, ex grammatico tyrannus 
 ipse sis; non quo tibi in alium quemvis detur ilia re- 
 gia licentia nial6 faciendi,sed ilia altera mal6 pereundi : 
 qua sola, ut inclusus ille Capreis Tiberius, a temetipso 
 perditus quotidie te sentias perire. Veruni jus illud 
 regium paulo accuratius quale sit consideremus. " Sic 
 oriens totus," inquis, " judicavit, sic occidens." Non 
 reponam tibi quod Aristotcles et Marcus Cicero, autho- 
 res, si qui alii, cordatissimi, ille in Politicis, bic in ora- 
 tione de provinciis scripsit, gentes Asiaticas facil6 ser- 
 vitutem pati, Judaeos autem et Syros scrvituti natos 
 fuisse : fatcor paucos fer^ libertateni velle, aut ea posse 
 uti, solos nenipe sapientes, et magnanimos ; pars longe 
 maxima justos dominos mavult, sed tamen justos; in- 
 juslos et intolcrabilcs ferendi, neque Deus unquam 
 universe gencri humano tam infensus fuit, neque uUus 
 unquam populus tam ab omni spe ct consilio derelic- 
 tus, ut neccssitatem banc atque legem, omnium duris- 
 simam, in se atque in suos liberos ultro statucret. Pro- 
 f'ers imprimis " verba regis in Ecclesiaste sapientia 
 clari." Nos itaque ad legem Dei provocamus, de rege 
 posteriiis videbimus ; cujus exinde scntentiam rectiiis 
 intelligemus. Audiatur ipse Deus. Deut. 17. " Cum 
 ingressus fueris in terram, quam Jehova Deus dat 
 tibi, et dices, statuam super me Rcgem, sicut omnes 
 gentes quae sunt circa me:" Quod ego omnes velim 
 etiam atque etiani animadvertant, teste hie ipso Deo, 
 penes populos omnes ac nationes arbitrium semper 
 fuisse, vel ea, qute placeret, forma reipub. utcndi, 
 vel banc in aliam mutandi : de Hebrteis discrte hoc 
 dicit Deus, de reliquis baud abnuit : deinde foi-- 
 mam reipub. monarcbia perfectiorem, ut sunt res hu- 
 mauae, suique populi magis e.x usu Deo visam esse : 
 cum banc ipse formam instituerit; monarchiam non 
 nisi sero petentibus, idque aegr6, concederet. Sin re- 
 gem plan^ vellent, ut ostenderet Deus id se liberum 
 populo reliquisse, ab uno an a pluribus respub. ad- 
 minislraretur, modo juste, regi etiam futuro leges con- 
 stituit, quibus cautum erat, ut " ne multiplicet sibi 
 equos, ne uxores, ne divitias ;" ut intelligeret nihil sibi 
 in alios licere, qui nihil de se statuere extra legem po- 
 tuit. Jussus itaque est " omnia legis illius praecepta," 
 etiam sua manu perscribere ; perscripta " observare ; 
 ne efferatur animus ejus pne fratribus suis." Ex quo 
 perspicuum est, regem aeque ac populum istis legibus 
 astrictum fuisse. In banc ferme sententiam scripsit 
 Josephus, legum suae gentis interpres idoneus, in sua 
 repub. versatissimus,mille aliis tenebrionibusRabbinis 
 anteponendus. Antiquitat. lib. 4. ' ApwroKparia fiiv ovv 
 KpdriffTov, &c. " Optimum est," inquit, " optimalium 
 
 regimen ; nee vos alium reipub. statum requiratis ; satis 
 enim est Deum habere praesidem. Attamen si taiita 
 vos regis cupido ceperit, plus legibus et Deo tribuatis, 
 quam suae sapientiae ; prohibeatur autem, si potentior 
 fieri studet, quam rebus vestris expedit." Haec et 
 plura Josephus in istum Deuteronomii locum. Alter, 
 Philo Judaeus, gravis author, Josephi coaetaneus, legis 
 Mosaicae studiosissimus, in quam universam diffusa 
 commentatione scripsit, cum in libro de creatione prin- 
 cipis hoc caput legis interpretatur, non alio pacto re- 
 gem legibus solvit, atque hostisquilibetsolutus legibus 
 dici possit, rove iiri \vny Kai Zrjiiitf, ruv vTrtjKoutv, &c. 
 " qui," inquit, " ad perniciem et detrimeutum populi 
 magnani sibi acquirunt potentiam, non reges sed hostcs 
 appellandi sunt; ea facientes, quai hostes nulla pace re- 
 conciliandi faciunt; nam qui per speciem gubernandi 
 faciunt injuriam, apertis hostibus pejores sunt; hos enim 
 facile est propulsare, illorum autem malitia baud facile 
 detegitur." Detecli igitur, quid obstat quo minus hos- 
 tium loco habendi siut ."* Sic libro secundo Allegoriarum 
 legis, " rex et tyrannus contraria sunt ;" et deinde, " rex 
 non imperat tantiim, sed paret." Vera sunt ista, dicet 
 aliquis ; regem oportet quidem leges, ut qui maxime, 
 observare; veriim si secus fecerit, qua lege puniendus ? 
 eadem, iuquam, lege qua caeteri; exceptiones enim nul- 
 las reperio. Sed nee de sacerdotibus, sed nee de infimis 
 quidem magistratibus, puniendis lex ulla scribitur ; qui 
 omnes, cum de iis puniendis nulla lex scripta sit, pari 
 certe jure et ratione possentimpunitatemscelcrum om- 
 nium sibi vendicare ; quam tamen neque eorum quis- 
 quam vendicavit, neque ullum iisarbitror idcirco esse da- 
 turum. Hactenus ex ipsa Dei lege did Lcimus regem le- 
 gibus obtemperare debuisse; nee se prae cajteris cfferre, 
 qui etiara fratres ejus sunt. Nunc an quid aliud Eccle- 
 siastes moneat videamus. Cap. 8. ver. 1, &c. " Man- 
 datum regis observa ; vel propter juramentum Dei, ne 
 perturbate a facie ejus abito, ne persistito in re mala, 
 nam quicquid volet faciet. Ubi verbum regis, ibi 
 dominatio ; et quis dicat ci, quid facis ?" Satis constat 
 Ecclcsiasten hoc in loco non synedrio magno, non 
 senatui, sed private cuique pra;cepta dare. Jubet man- 
 data sua observare, vel propter juramentum Dei ; at 
 quis jurat regi, nisi rex vicissira in leges divinas atque 
 patrias juratussit.!* gic Reubenitae et Gaditae obedien- 
 tiam suam Jehosuae pollicentur, Jos. I. " Ut dicto au- 
 dientes Mosi fuimus, ita erimus tibi, modo ut Deus te- 
 cum sit, quemadmodum fuit cum Mose." Conditionem 
 vides expressam. Alioquin ipsum audi Ecclesiasten, 
 cap. 9. " Verba sapieiitum submissa potius audienda 
 esse, quam clamorem dominantis inter stolidos." Quid 
 poiTO monet? " Ne persistito in re mala, nam quicquid 
 volet faciet," in malosnimirum faciet authoritate legum 
 armatus, namleniter, aut severe agere, prout volet, po- 
 test. Nihil hie tyrannicum sonat, nihil quod vir bonus 
 extimescat. " Ubi verbum regis, ibi dominatio, et 
 quis dicat ei, quid facis i*" Et tamen legimus qui regi 
 dixerit non solum, quid fecisti, sed etiam, stulte fecisti. 
 1 Sam. 13. At Samuel extraordinarius. Tuum tibi 
 regero, licet infra dictum pag. 49. " quid," inquis, 
 " extraordinarium in Saule et Davide ?" itidem ego, 
 quid, inquam, in Samuele ? Propheta fuit: sunt et illi 
 
058 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 hodie, qui ejus exemplo faciunt; ex voluntatc enim 
 Dei vel '• expressa" vcJ " tacita" agunt : quod ctiam 
 ipse infra concedis, pag. 50. Prudcnter igitur Eccle- 
 siastcs hoc in loco monet privates, ne cum reg'e con- 
 tendant : nam etiam cum divite, cum potcnti quovis, 
 ut plurimum damnosa coutentio est. Quid erjfo ? an 
 optimates, an omnes rcli(|ui mag^istrattis, an populus 
 uiiiversus, quotios delirarc libet regi, nc hiscere quidcm 
 audcbunt? an stolido, impio, furenti, bonis omnibus 
 perniciem machinanti non obstabunt, non obviam ibunt, 
 ne divina omnia atque humana pervertcrc occupet, ne 
 rapinis, ne incendiis, ne caedibiis, per omnes reg-ni fines 
 grassetur, ita " legibus solutus, ut quod libet liceat?" 
 O de Cappadocis eques catastris ! quem omnis libera 
 natio (si unquam post lioc in natione libera pedem 
 ponere audebis) aut in ultimas terras Tcluti portentum 
 exportandum ejicere, aut servitutis candidatum dedere 
 in pistriniim debcbit, ea lege atque omine, ut si te inde 
 exemerit, ipsa sub aliquo tjranno, coque stultissimo, 
 pro te molat. Quid enim poterit dici, aut ab aliis dic- 
 tum pcti, tam truculentum, aut ridiculum, quod in te 
 non cadat ? Perge modo : " Israelitae reg-em a Deo 
 petentes eodera jure se ab eo gubernari velle dixerunt, 
 quo omnes aliap nationes, quae hoc regimine uterentur. 
 At orientis regessummo jure, et potestate non circum- 
 scripta regnabant, teste Virgilio. 
 
 Regem non sic ^gyptus et ingens 
 
 Lydia, nee popiili Parthorum, et Medus Hydaspcs 
 Ob«er\'ant. " 
 
 Primum,quid nostra refert qualem sibi regem Israelitee 
 Toluerint, prsesertim Deo irato, non solum quod regem 
 ▼client ad exemplum gentium, et non suje legis, sed 
 plane quod vellent regem ? Deinde regem injustum, 
 aut legibus solutum, petivisse credibile non est, qui 
 Samuelis filios legibus obstrictos ferre non potuerunt, 
 et ab eorum tantiim avaritia ad regem confugerunt. 
 Postremo, quod ex Virgilio recitas, non probat reges 
 orientis " absoluta potestate" regnasse ; Apes enim illce 
 Virgilianae, quae vel iEgyptiis et Medis observantiores 
 regum sunt, teste tamen eodem poeta — " Magnis agi- 
 tant sub legibus oevum." — Non ergo sub regibus omni 
 lege solutis. At vide quam tibi minime velim male ; 
 ciim plerique te nebulonem esse judicent, ostendam te 
 personam tantum ncbulonis mutuam sumpsisse. In 
 apparatu ad primatum papie, doctores quosdam Tri- 
 dentinos exemplo apium usos ais, ut monarchiam papte 
 probnrent: ab bis tu pari malitia hoc mutuum cepisti. 
 Quod illis itaque respondisti ciim probus esses, jam 
 factus nebulo tute respoudebis tibi, tuaque tibi manu 
 personam nebulonis detraiics. " Apium respub. est; 
 atque ita physici appellant : Regem habent, sed inno- 
 cuum; ductor est potiiis quam tyrannus; non verberat, 
 non vellicat, non necat apes subditas." Minime igitur 
 ntirum, si ita observant. Istaa mehercule apes mala 
 ave tibi tactio erat ; Tridenlinie enim licet sint, fucum 
 te esse indicant. Aristoteles autem, rerum politicarum 
 scriptor diligentissimus, monarcbioe genus Asiatics, 
 quod et barbaricum vocat, Kara vSftov, id est, secundum 
 legem, fuisse affirmat. Pol. 3. Immo cum monarcbioe 
 qtrinque species enumeret, quatuor secundum legem. 
 
 et suffragante populo, fuisse scribit, tyrannicas autem, 
 quod lis tanta pottstas, volcnte licet populo, data erat; 
 regnum vero laconicum maxime regnum videri, quod 
 non omnia penes regem crant. Quinta, quam Is naft- 
 ^aaiXUav vocat, et ad quam solam id refert, quod tu 
 regum omnium jus esse scribis, ut ad libitum regnciit, 
 ubinam gentium, aut quo tempore unquam obtinuerit, 
 non dicit : nee aliam ob caussam I'ecissc mentiuncm 
 ejus videtur, quam ut absurdam, injustam, et maxime 
 tyrannicam, esse demonstraret. Samuelem ais, ciim 
 cos ab eligendo rege deterreret, " jus illis regium " ex- 
 posuisse. Unde baustum, a lege Dei.'* at ilia lex jus 
 regium, ut vidimus, longe aliud cxbibuit : an ab ipso 
 Deo per Samuelem loquente? at improbavit, vitupera- 
 vit, vitio dedit: non igitur jus regium divinitiis datum, 
 sed morem regnandi pravissimum, superbia regum et 
 dominandi libidine arreptum exposuit propheta ; ncc 
 quid dcbebant regcs, sed quid volebaiit faccre; rationera 
 enim regis populo iudicavit,sicut antea rationem saccr- 
 dotum Eliadarum eodem vcrbo (quod tu p. 33, Hebraico 
 etiam soloccismo nSVD vocas) supra indicaverat. C. 2. 
 " ratio sacerdotum istorum cum populo hcec erat, v. 13." 
 impia videlicet, odiosa, et tyrannica : ratio itaque ilia 
 nequaquam jus erat, sed injuria. Sic etiam patres 
 antiqui hunc locum exposucrunt; unus milii erit mul- 
 torum instar, Sulpitius Severus, Hieronyrni aequalis, 
 eique charus, et Augustini judicio vir doctrina et sapi-.J 
 entia pollens. Is in historia sacra S-amuelem ait domi- ^ 
 nationem regiam, et superba imperia, populo exponere. 
 Sane jus regium non est dominatio et superbia ; sed jus 
 atque imperium regium, teste Sallustio, conservaiiihc 
 libertalis atque augendae reipub. causa datum, in su- 
 perbiam dominationemque se convertit. Idem theologi 
 omnes orthodoxi, idem jurisconsuiti, idem rabbini ple- 
 rique, ut ex Sicliardo didicisse potuisti, de explicatione 
 hujus loci sentiunt; ne rabbinorum enim quisquam jus 
 regis absolutum isto loco tractari dixit. Ipse infra 
 cap. 5. pag. 106. "non Alexandrinum Clementem soliinn 
 sed omnes hie" quereris "errare," te unum ex omnibus 
 rem acu tetigisse: Jam vero cujus vel impudentite est 
 vel socordiae, contra omnes, przesertim orthodoxos, mores 
 regum ab ipso Deo damnatissimos in jus regium con- 
 vertere; et honesta juris pnescriptione defendere : cum 
 jus tamen illud in rapinis, iiijuriis, violentiis, contume- 
 liis, saepiiis consistere fatearis. An quisquam sic "sui 
 juris" unquam fuit, ut rapere, agere, prosternere, pcr- 
 miscere omnia sibi liceret? an Latini, quod afHrmas, 
 baec " suo jure ab aliquo fieri unquam dixerunt.-*" 
 Dixerat apud Sallustium C. Memmius tribunus plebis, 
 in superbiam et impunita flagitia nobilitatis invectus, 
 " ini])une quaelibet facere, id est, regem esse ;" arrisit 
 hoc tibi, et statim in lucro ponis, nequicquam sane, si 
 paulum evigilaveris. An jus liic regium asseruit.!* 
 annon plebis ignaviam potiiis increpuit, qua; nobiles 
 impune dominari sineret, eosque mores regios jam rur- 
 sus patcretur, quos jure suo mnjores illorum cum rege 
 ipso finibus expulerant. Marcum Tullium saltcm con- 
 suluisses; is te et Sallustium, et Samuelem etiam rcctiiis 
 interpretari docuisset. Qui, pro C Rabirio, " nemo," 
 iiiquit, " nostriim ignorat consuetudincm regiam; re- 
 gum sunt hacc imperia, aniinadverte et dicto pare;" 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 659 
 
 aliaque hujusmodi ex poetis ibidem recitat, quae iion 
 jus, sed " consuetudinem regiam" vocat, eaqiie legere 
 et spectare nos ait debere, non " ut delectemur solum, 
 sed ut cavere etiam et efFugere discamus." Vidcs quam 
 te male multaverit Sallustius, quem tyramiis inimicis- 
 simum, juris tyrannici patronum attulisse te putabas. 
 Nutare, mihi crede, et suum sibi occasum accelcrare 
 jus regium videtur, dum luentis in modum tenuissima 
 quaeque sic arripit, seque sustinere iis testibus atque 
 exemplis conatur, quae tardius fortasse alioqui ruitu- 
 rum vehementius proturbant. " Summum," inquis, 
 "jus, summa injuria est, id in regibus maxime locum 
 habet ; qui cum summo jure utuntur, ea faciunt in 
 quibus Samuel dicit jus regis esse positum." Miserum 
 jus; quod tu jam ad extrema perductus, nisi per sum- 
 mam injuriam defendere ulteriiis non potes ! Summum 
 jus id dicitur, cum quis formulas legum sectatur, sin- 
 gulis pene literis immoratur, aequitatem non servat ; 
 aut scriptum jus callide nimis et malitiose interpretatur, 
 ex quo illud proverbium Cicero ortum esse ait. Ciim 
 autem jus orane de fonte justitite manare certum sit, im- 
 piussis necesse est, qui " regem injustum esse,iniquum, 
 violentcm, raptorem esse, et quales esse solebant" qui 
 pessimi erant, jus regis esse dicis, idque " prophetam 
 populo insinuasse." Quod enim jus summum aut re- 
 missum, scriptum aut non scriptum, ad maleficia per- 
 petranda esse potest? Id ne tibi de aliis concedere, de 
 rege pernegare, in mentem veniat, habeo quem tibi op- 
 ponam, et puto regem, qui istiusmodi jus regium et 
 sibi et Deo iuvisum esse profitetur : Psal. 49. " an con- 
 sociaretur tibi solium cerumnarum, formantis molestiam 
 per statutum." Noli igitur Deo banc atrocissimam 
 injuriam facere, quasi is regum pravitates et nefaria 
 faciuora jus esse regium doceret, qr.i etiam hoc nomine 
 societatem cum improbis regibus se detestari docet, 
 quod molestiam et eerumnas omnes populo juris regii 
 titulo creare soleant. Noli prophetam Dei falso insi- 
 mulare ; quem, tu dum juris regii isto loco doctorem 
 habere putas, non verum nobis affers Samuelem ; sed, 
 ut venefica ilia, inanem urobram evocas ; quamvis et 
 ilium ab inferis Samuelem non adeo mendacem fuisse 
 credam, quin illud quod tu jus regium vocas, impoten- 
 tiam potius tyrannicam dicturus fuisset. Jus datem 
 sceleri legimus, tuque " licentice jure concessae reges 
 minus bouos uti consuevisse" ais. At jus hoc, ad per- 
 nicieni humani generis abs te introductum, non esse a 
 Deo datum probavimus ; restat, ut sit a Diabolo ; quod 
 infra clarius liquebit. " Hcec," inquis, " licentia dat 
 posse, si velis ; " et authorem hujus juris habere 
 Ciceronem prse te fers. Nunquam segre facio ut tes- 
 timonia tua recitem, tuis enim ipse testibus conficere 
 te soles. Audi igitur verba Ciceronis in 4ta Philipp. 
 " Quae causa justior est belli gerendi, quam servitutis 
 depulsio ? in qua eliamsi non sit molestus dominus, 
 tamen est miserrimum posse si velit," posse vi scili- 
 cet ; nam de jure si loqueretur, repugnantia diceret, et 
 ex justa belli causa injustam faceret. Non est igitur 
 jus regium quod tu describis, sed injuria, sed vis, et 
 violentia regum. Transis ab regia licentia ad priva- 
 tam : " licet private mentiri, licet ingrato esse." Licet et 
 regibus ; quid iude efficis ? licebit ergo regibus impune 
 2 u 
 
 rapere, occidere, stuprare ? Quid interest ad injuriae 
 gravitatem rex an latro, an aliunde hostis, populum 
 occidat, diripiat, in servitutem agat.f" eodem cert^jure, 
 et hunc et ilium humanae societatis inimicum, et pestem, 
 propulsare atque ulcisci debemus ; immo regem eo 
 justius, quod is tot beneficiis et honoribus nostris 
 auctus commissam sibi sub juramento publicam salutem 
 prodat. Concedis postremo " leges dari a Mose, se- 
 cundum quas rex ille quandoque eligeudus imperare 
 debebat, quamvis diversas ab illo jure quod Samuel 
 proposuit." Quod cum assertione tua dupliciter pug- 
 nat ; ciim enim regem legibus omnino solutum posueris, 
 nunc obstrictum dicis : dein jus juri contrarium ponis 
 Mosis et Samuelis, quod est absurdum. At " servi," 
 inquit Propheta, " vos eritis regi." Ut servos fuisse 
 non abnuerim ; non jure tamen regio servi fuerunt, 
 sed regum fortasse plurimorum usurpatione et injustitia. 
 Illam enim petitionera obstinatam non jure regio, sed 
 suo merito, in pcenam illis cessuram propheta proemo- 
 nuit. At vero si regi legibus soluto quicquid libet licu- 
 erit, profecto rex long^ plus quam dominus erit, populus 
 infra omnium servorum infimos plus quam iufimus. 
 Servus enim vel alienigena legem Dei vindiceni inju- 
 riosura in dominum habebat; populus universus, libera 
 nimirum gens, vindicem in tcnis nemineni, nuUam 
 legem habebit, quo laesus, afflictus, et spoliatus confu- 
 giat : a servitute regum jEgyptiorum ideo liberatus, 
 ut uni ex fratribus suis, duriore si libeat servitute, op- 
 primendus traderetur. Quod ciim neque divinae legi 
 nee rationi consentaneum sit, dubium nemini esse 
 potest, quin propheta mores enarraverit, non jus regum, 
 neque mores prorsus regum omnium, sed plurimorum. 
 Desceudis ad rabbinos, duosque adducis eadera, qua 
 prius, infelicitate : nam caput illud de rege, in quo 
 R, Joscs jus regium aiebat coutineri, Deuteronomii 
 esse, non Samuelis, manifestum est. Samuelis enim 
 ad terrorem duntaxat populo injiciendura pertinere 
 rectissim^ quidem et contra te dixit R. Judas. Per- 
 niciosum enim est id jus nominari atque doceri, quod 
 injustitia plan^ est, nisi abusive forsitan jus nominetur. 
 Quo etiam pertinet versus 18. " Et exclamabitis die 
 ilia propter regem vestrum, sed non exaudiet vos Je- 
 hovah;" obstinatos nimirum ista poena manebat, qui 
 regem nolente Deo dari sibi voluerunt. Quanquam ista 
 verba non prohibent, quo minus et vota et quidvis aliud 
 tentare potuerint. Si enim clamare ad Deura contra 
 regem populo licebat, licebat proculdubio oranem etiam 
 aliam inire rationem honestam sese a tyrannide expe- 
 diendi. Quis enim, quovis malo cum premitur, sic ad 
 Deum clamat ut caetera omnia quae officii sunt sui neg- 
 ligat, ad otiosas tantiim preces devolutus .-' Verum ut- 
 cunque sit, quid hoc ad jus regium, quid ad jus nos- 
 trum? qui regem nee invito Deo unquam petivimus, 
 nee ipso dante accepimus, sed jure gentium usi, nee 
 jubente Deo nee vetante, nostris legibus constituimus. 
 Quae cum ita se habeant, non video quamobrem nobis 
 laudi atque virtuti tribuendum non sit, regem abjecisse ; 
 quandoquidera Israelitis crimini est datum regem pe- 
 tisse. Quod etiam res ipsa comprobavit; nos enim qui 
 regem, cum haberemus, deprecati sumus, tandem ex- 
 auditos Deus liberavit ; illos, qui cum uou habereut, 
 
000 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 a Deo efflagfitabant, scrvire jussit ; donee Babyloiie 
 redeuntes ad pristiniiin reipub. statum revcrsi sunt. 
 Ludum Talnuidicuni deinde apcris; quin el hoc sinis- 
 tro augurio tcntatum. Diim enim rcgcm non judicari 
 cupis osteudcre, ostendis ex codicc Sanhedrim " rcgcni 
 nee judicari ncc judicare;" quod cum petitione isdus 
 populi pug-nat, qui idco regem petebant, ut judicaret : 
 id frustra rcsarcire studes ; intelligi nempe id dc regi- 
 bus Postbabylonicis debere. At eece tibi Maimonidcs, 
 qui " hane inter reges Israclitas et Judaeos diflferentiam 
 ponit : Davidis enim posteros judicare et judicari;" 
 Israeliticis neutrum concedit. Occurris tibi, tecum 
 enim litigas, aut cum rabbinis tuis ; meam rem agis. 
 Hoc " primis in rcgibus locum non habuisse," quia 
 dictum est ▼. 17. " tos eritis ei servi : " consuetudine 
 scilicet, non jure ; aut si jure, poenas petendi regis, 
 quamvis non sub iioc forte vel sub illo, at sub pleris- 
 que,luebant, quod nosnonattingit. Tibiveroadversario 
 opus non est, adeo semper tibi adversaris. Narras enim 
 pro me, ut primo Aristobulus, post Jannteus cognomen- 
 to Alexander, jus illud regiuni non a synedrio, juris 
 custode et interprete, acceperint, sed paulatim sibi 
 assumpserint, et senatu renitente usurpaverint : quorum 
 in graliam bella ilia fabula de primoribus synedrii " a 
 Gabricle exauimatis" adinvcnta est, jusque hoc mag- 
 nificum, quo uiti maxime videris, "regem" scilicet 
 *' non judicari," ex ilia fabula plusquam anili, utpote 
 rabbinica, conflatum esse fateris. Reges autcm He- 
 brtEorura "judicari posse, atque etiam ad verbera dara- 
 nari," fus^ docet Sichardus ex libris rabbinicis, cui tu 
 heec omnia debes, et taraen obstrepere non erubescis. 
 Quinimmo Icgimus ipsum Saulem cum filio Jonathane 
 sortis judicium atque etiam capitale subiise, suoque ip- 
 sum edicto paruisse. Uzzias quoque a sacerdotibus 
 templo deturbatus, leprae judicio, tanquam unus 6 po- 
 pulo, se submisit, rexque esse desiit. Quid si templo 
 excedere, quid si magistratu abire, et seorsim habitare, 
 noluisset, jus illud rcgium legibus solutum sibi asse- 
 raisset, an passuros fuisse ceuses Judseos et sacerdotes 
 templum contaminari, leges violari, populum univer- 
 sum contagione periclitari ? In leprosum ergo regem 
 vigebunt leges, in tyrannum nihil poterunt ? Ecquis 
 tam demens aut stultus est, ut existimet, cum rex mor- 
 bosus ne populum contagione Icedat, cautum atque pro- 
 visum legibus sit, si rex impius, iniquus, crudelis, po- 
 pulum diripiat, excruciet, occidat, rempub. funditus 
 evertat, nullum his malis long6 gravioribus renicdium 
 legibus repertum esse? Verum "exempluni ullius regis 
 afferri non potest, qui judicium capitis subieritinjus vo- 
 catus." Ad illud Sichardus hand absurdi!; rcspondet, per- 
 inde esse, ac si quis ad hunc modum dissereret. Cecsar 
 nunquam citatus est coram Electore ; ergo si Palatinus 
 diem Caesari dixcrit, non tenetur Ccesar in judicio re- 
 spondere. Cum tamen doceat bulla aurea Carolum 4tum 
 seetsuccessoressuoshuiccognitionisubjecisse. Quid in 
 corrupto populi statu regibus adeo indultum fuisse mira- 
 mur, ubi totprivati aut opibus suis aut gratia impunita- 
 tem vel gravissimorum scelerum assequuntur.'' Illud 
 autcm avvirtvOwoVf id est, " a nemine pendcre, nulli 
 mortalium rationem redderc," quod tu regiae majestatis 
 maximd proprium esse ais, Aristoteles Polit. 4. c. 10. I 
 
 ninxim6 tyrannicum, et in libera natione miiiime feren* 
 dum, esse afHrmat. Tu vero Antonium tyrannum im- 
 manissimum, Romanae reipub. eversorem, idoiieum 
 san6 authorem producis, non esse justum reposci a rege 
 factorum suorum rationem : et tamen Hcrodem ciedis 
 reum ad causam dicendam in Parthos proficisceiis ac- 
 ccrsivit ad se Antonius : et animadrersurus etiam in 
 regem fuisse creditur, nisi rex eum auro corrupisset. 
 Ita ab eodem fonte profluxit regiae potestatis Autoni* 
 ana assertio, et tua " regia defcnsio." At non sine ra- 
 tione, inquis, "nam reges ab alio non habentquod' 
 regnant, sed soli Deo acceptum referunt." Die sodes 
 quinam ? nam istiusmodi reges extitisse unquam, ncj^o. 
 Primus enim Saul, nisi populus refragante etiam Deo 
 regem voluisset, nunquam rex fuisset ; et quamvis rex 
 renuntiatus esset Mispae, vixit tamen \)cui: privaUis, 
 armentum patris sccutus, donee Gilgale rex ii populo 
 secundi^m creatus est. Quid David ? quamvis unctus 
 a Deo, nonnc iterum unctus est ab Judacis Chebronc, 
 deinde ab omnibus Hebraeis, pacto tamen prius foe- 
 dere? 2 Sara. 5. 1 Chron. 11. Fcedus autem obligat 
 reges, ct intra certos fines continet. Sedit Salomon, 
 inquis, " super solium Domini et cunctis placuit," 
 1 Paralip. 29. ergo et placuisse populo aliquid erat. 
 Constituit Jeboiadas regem Joasum, focdus tamen eo- 
 dem tempore pepigit inter regem et populum. 2 Reg. 
 11. Hos reges, necnon et reliquos Davidis posteros, 
 et a Deo et a populo constitutes fateor ; caeteros omncs, 
 ubicunque gentium, a populo tantum constitutes esse 
 affirmo; tu ostende constitutos esse a Deo; nisi ea 
 solum ratione qua omnia, cum maxima tiim mini- 
 ma, a Deo fieri et constitui dicuntur. Solium itaquc 
 Davidis, peculiari quodam jure, solium Jehova2 dici- 
 tur ; solium aliorum regum non alio, atque caetera 
 omnia, Jehovae sunt. Quod tu ex eodem capite di- 
 dicisse potuisti, v. 11. 12. "tua sunt omnia in coelo 
 et in terra, tuum est, Jehova, regnum ; divitiae et 
 gloria a facie tua sunt, vis et potentia, &c." Dici- 
 turque hoc toties, non ut intumescant reges, sed ut 
 moneantur, quamvis decs se esse putent, Deura ta- 
 men supra se esse, cui debent omnia. Unde ilia 
 Essenorum et poetarum doctrina, reges " non sine 
 Deo, et ab Jove esse," facile intelligitur; omnes enim 
 homines a Deo itidem sumus, Deique genus. Jus igi- 
 tur hoc universum Dei non toUit jus populi; quo mi- 
 nus omnes cteteri reges, non a Deo nominati, regnum 
 suum soli populo acceptum referant; cui propterea ra- 
 tionem reddcre tenentur. Quod quanquam vulgus as- 
 sentari regibus solet, ipsi tamen reges sivc boui, ut 
 Ilomericus ille Sarpedon, sive mali, ut illi apud Lyri- 
 cum tyranni, agnoscunt. 
 
 rXavKC, TiTj Si^ vtLi TB TifirjfitaOa /ioXiTa, &c. 
 
 Glauce, cur nos maxiino honore afQcimur 
 
 In Lycia, omnes autcm nos tanquam decs intuentur? 
 
 Ipse sibi rcspondet ; quia virtute caeteris priclucemus : 
 quare fortitcr pugnemus, inquit, ne I^ycii nobis igna- 
 viam objiciant : qua voce et bonorcs regies a populo 
 acceptos, et bellicse administrationis rationem populo 
 reddendam esse, innuit. Mali autem reges, ut mctum 
 populo incutiaut, Deum imperii regii authorem palam 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 661 
 
 proL'dicant : tacitis autcm votis nullum iiumcn praeter 
 Fortunam venerantiir. Juxta illud Horatii: 
 
 'ie Dacus asper, te profugi Scythae, 
 Regumque matres barbarorum, et 
 Purpurei metuunt tyranni. 
 Injur ioso ne pede proruas 
 Slantem columnam, neu populus frequens 
 Ad arma cessantcs, ad arma 
 Concitet, imperiumque frangat. 
 
 Si ergo regis liodie per Deum regnant, etiam populi 
 per Deum in libertatera se vindicant, quandoquidem 
 omnia a. Deo et per Deum fiunt. Utrumque etiam 
 cequ6 testatur Scriptura, et reges per eum regnare, et 
 per eum solio dejici; cum tamen id utrumque longe 
 SPepius a populo fieri perspiciamus, quam a Deo. Jus 
 itaquc populi pariter ac regis, quicquid est, a Deo est. 
 Populus ubicunque sine Deo manifesto regem creavit, 
 potest eodem jure suo regem rejicere. Tjrannum sane 
 tollere quam constituere divinius est; plusque Dei 
 cernitur in populo, quoties injustum abdicat regem, 
 quam in regc qui innocentem opprimit populum. Immo 
 reges noxios Deo authore judicat populus: hoc enim 
 ipso honore dilectos suos decoravit Deus, Psal. 149. ut 
 Christum regem suum laudibus celebrantes, gentium 
 reges, quales sub evangelio sunt omues tyranni, "vin- 
 culis coercerent, inque eos jus scriptum cxercerent," 
 qui jure omni scripto atquc legibus solutos se esse 
 gloriantur. Ne quis tarn stolide, no quis tarn impie, 
 credat tanti esse apud Deum reges, fere mortalium ig- 
 uavissimus, ut eorum uutu orbis terrarum totuspendeat 
 et gubernetur; eorum ut gratia, proeque illis, divinum, 
 ut ita dicam, hominum genus eodem quo bruta et vi- 
 lissima quteque auimalia loco atque numero habendum 
 sit. Ag6 nunc, ne niliil enim agas, M. Aureliuni, quasi 
 tjrannis faventem, in medium profers; at satius tibi 
 fuit Marcum Aurelium non attigisse. Ille an Deum de 
 principibus solum judicarc dixerit nescio. Xiphilinus 
 cert^, quem citas, de avrnp^i^ loquitur; irepi avrapx^ac 6 
 0£oc ftovoQ Kpivtiv Ivvarat. dvrapx^cv autcm monarchioe 
 sj-nonymum illic esse non assentior ; coquc minus quo 
 sa^pius proecedentia lego; nam qui cohccreat, aut quid 
 sibi vclit aliena ilia sententia subito insititia, qui le- 
 gerit mirctur ; presertim cum Marcus Aurelius, impe- 
 ratorum optimus, non aliter cum populo egerit, ut Ca- 
 pitolinus tradit, quam est actum sub civitate libera ; 
 jus autcm populi quin suprcmum tunc fuerit nemo du- 
 bitat. Idem Thraseam, Helvidium, Catonem, Dio- 
 ncm, Brutum, tyrannicidas omnes, aut istam gloriam 
 oemulautes coluisse, sibique reipublicte formam propo- 
 suisse, in qua cequis legibus parique jure, omnia admi- 
 nistrarentur, in primo libro de vita sua profitetur: in 
 quarto, non se, sed legem, dominum esse. Agnovit 
 etiam omnia senatfis populique esse: nos, inquit, adeo 
 nihil proprium babemus, ut in vestris sedibus habitemus. 
 HtEC Xiphilinus. Tantum abfuit ut quicquam jure 
 regio sibi arrogaret. Moriens, filium suum regnaturum 
 ea lege Romanis commendavit, si dignus esset : jus 
 itaque illud regnandi absolutum atque fictitium, tan- 
 quani a Deo per manus tiaditum, illam denique dvrap- 
 x'lav prse se non tulit. " Plena" tamen " omnia Grae- 
 cerum et Latiiioruni monumcnta esse" ais : at nusquam 
 
 visa; " jjlcna Judasorum," et tamen addis " Judaeos in 
 plerisque vegioe potestati miniis oequos fuisse :" immo 
 Graecos et Latinos niulto minus tyrannis ajquos et re- 
 peristi et reperies ; multo minus Judseos, si liber ille 
 Samuelis in quo is, 1 Sam. 10. jus regni dcscripserat, 
 exstaret ; quem librum doctores Hebrtt'orum a rcgibus 
 discerptum aut combustum esse tradiderunt, quo im- 
 punius tyrannidem in suos exercerent. Circumspice 
 jam, numquid captare possis : occunit tibi rex David 
 postremo torquendus, Psal. 17. " a facie tua judicium 
 meum prodeat:" ergo, inquit Barnachmoni, " nullus 
 judicat regem nisi Deus." Et tamen similius veri vi- 
 detur, Davidem hcec scripsisse, ciim a Saule vexatus, 
 ne Jonathanis quideni judicium, quamvis jam turn unc- 
 tus a Deo, detractabat. " Si est in me iniquitas, tu me 
 affice morte," inquit, 1 Sam. 20; deinde ut quivis alius 
 ab hominibus falso accusatus, ad judicium Dei provo- 
 cat ; id sequentia declarant, " tui occuli vident quoe 
 recta sunt, ciim exploraveris cor meum," &c. Quid 
 hoc ad judicium rcgium,aut forense? Sane jus regium 
 illi maxime labcfactant atque destruunt, qui funda- 
 mentis tam fallacibus niti, atque cxredificari, produnt. 
 En tritum illud tandem, et aulicorum nostratium argu- 
 meutum palmarium. " Tibi soli peccavi," Psal. 51. 6. 
 quasi \er6 rex David in mcerore et lacrymis poeniten- 
 tiam agens, sordidatus et squalid us in terra jacens, 
 misericordiam a Deo suppliciter petens, quicquam de 
 jure regio cogitavcrit hcec loquutus; cum se vix jure 
 mancipii dignum esse arbitraretur. An omnem Dei 
 populum, fratres suos, usque adeo pree se contempsit, 
 ut csedibus, adulteriis, rapinis, peccare in cos non se 
 posse censeret ? absit a rcge tam sancto tanta superbia, 
 tamque foeda ignoratio vel sui vel proximi. " Tibi" 
 igitur " soli peccavi" proculdubio intelligendum est, 
 tibi praecipue. Utcunque sit, profecto verba psallentis, 
 et sententioe affectibus plence, haudquaquam sunt ad 
 jus cxplicandum accommodatae, aut eo trahendee. At 
 " non est in jus vocatus, nee coram synedrio causam 
 capitis dixit." Esto ; qui enim potuit id resciri, quod 
 adeo sine arbitris, et secreto peractum fuit, ut per ali- 
 quot fortassc annos (cujusmodi aulte arcana sunt) vix 
 unus aut alter conscius fuisse videatur, 2 Sam. 12. 
 " Tu hoc clam fecisti." Deinde quid si in privatis 
 etiam puniendis cessaret synedrium ? an quis iude pu- 
 niendos non esse argumentabitur ? Sed ratio obscura 
 non est ; ipse se condemnaverat, ver. 5. " reus capitis 
 vir ille qui fecit hoc ;" cui statim subjecit propheta, 
 " tu vir ille es ;" prophetae etiam judicio capitis reus. 
 Veruntamen Deus pro suo jure atque in Davidem ex- 
 imia dementia, et peccato absolvit regem, et ipsa mor- 
 tis sententia, quam is in semetipsum pronuntiaverat, 
 V. 13. " non cs moriturus." Nunc in advocatum nescio 
 quem sanguinarium debaccharis, et in eo totus es ut 
 perorationem ejus re fellas : de qua ipse viderit; ego 
 quod propositum mihi est, id ago, ut quam paucissimis 
 absolvam. Qusedam tamen prseterire non possum; 
 primum, insignes repugnantias tuas: qui p. 30. hoec 
 babes: " Israelitoe non deprecantur injustum regem, 
 violentem, raptorem, et quales esse solerent qui pessimi. 
 A p. 42. advocatum vellicas quod Israelitis tyrannum 
 petisse arguerat. " An de fumo," inquis, " in flammara 
 
663 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 ire praecipites malucrunt, id est, saevitiam pessimorum 
 tjrannorum experiri, potius quuni jiidices malos pati, 
 quibus jam assuevcrant ?" Illic Hebraeos maliiissc ais 
 tjrannos qiuim judices, hie judices raaluisse quani iy 
 rannos; ct " nihil minus quam tjrannum volnisse." De 
 tuo i^itur rcspondebit tibi advocatus, juxta cnim te oni- 
 nis rex jure rejfio tyrannus est. Quod sequitur bene 
 habet, " authoritatem in populo maximam tunc fuisse, 
 quod judices repudiarunt, regem optarunt." Memineris, 
 cum hoc ego a te reposcam. Negas " Deum iratum 
 Israelitis regem tanquara tyrannum aut pocnam attribu- 
 isse, sed ut rem salutarem ct bonam." Quod tamen facile 
 refellitur. Cur enim exclamarent propter regem ilium 
 quern elegerant, nisi quod res mala erat imperium re- 
 gium ; non quidem per se, sed quod plerunque, sicut 
 Propheta hie nionet, in superbiam et dominationem se 
 convertit. Si adhuc non satisfacio, agnosce jam tua, 
 syngrapham agnosce tuam,eterubesce. Apparat. adpri- 
 matum, " Iratus Deus regem illis dedit, offensus eorum 
 peccatis, quod Deum habere regem renuissent. Ita 
 ecclesia quasi in peenam ejus delicti, quod a puro Dei 
 cuitu desciverat, in unius mortalis monarchae plusquam 
 regium dominatum data est." Tua igitur similitudo si 
 sibi constat, aut dedit Deus regem Israelitis in poenara, 
 et tanquam rem malam, aut dedit papam ecclesise in 
 bonum, et tanquam rem bonam. Quid hoc homine 
 levius, quid insanius? Quis huic in re minima fidem 
 habeat, qui tautis in rebus quid asserat, et mox neget, 
 nihil pensi habet. AfBrmas, p. 29. " regem legibus 
 solutum esse apud omnes geutes, sic Oriens judicavit, 
 sic Occidens." At, p. 43. " omnes reges Orientis card 
 vofiov et legitimos fuisse ; immo Mgyipti reges in max- 
 imis minimisque rebus legibus obstrictos," cum initio 
 capitis hoc te probaturum pollicitus sis, omnes reges 
 " solutos legibus*" esse, " leges dare, non accipere." 
 Equidem non irascor tibi ; aut enim iusanis, aut stas a 
 nobis. Hoc certe oppugnare est, non defendere, hoc 
 regem est ludos facere. Sin minus, Catulliauum pro- 
 fecto illud * in te aptissime quadrat, sed inversum; nam 
 quanto quis unquam optimus poeta fuit, tanto tu pessi- 
 mus omnium patronus. Certe nisi stupor ille, quo 
 advocatum esse "demersum" ais, te potius ohcoecavit, 
 jam tute " obrutuisse" te senties. Nunc " omnibus 
 quoque gentium regibus leges datas fuisse" fateris; 
 " non tamen ut iis tenerentur, judiciorum metu et pce- 
 nse capitis." Quod nequedum ex scriptura, neque ex 
 uUo authore fide digno, ostendisti. Tu igitur paucis 
 accipe : leges civiles iis dare qui legibus non tenentur, 
 stultum et ridiculum est; omnes alios punire, uni dun- 
 taxat omnium scelerum impunitatem dare, cum lex 
 neminem excipiat, iniquissimum est. Quae duo in sa- 
 pientes legumlatores minime cadunt, multo minus in 
 Deum. Ut omnes autem videant te nullo modo ex 
 Hebraeorum scriptis id probare, quod probandum hoc 
 capite suscepcras, esse ex magistris tua sponte confiteris, 
 " qui negant alium suis majoribus regem agnoscendum 
 fuisse pneter Deum, datum autem in poenam fuisse." 
 Quorum ego in sententiam pedihus eo. Non decet 
 cnim, neque dignum est regem esse, nisi qui cceteris 
 
 • Tantd pcssimus omnium Poeta, 
 Qoaato tu opttmus oinuium Patronuf . 
 
 omnibus longh antecellit ; ubi multi sunt cequales, ut 
 sunt in orani civitatc plurimi, imperium ex tequo atquc 
 per vices dandum esse arbitror : wquali, aut plcrunqii 
 deteriori, ac sirpissime stulto, servire omnes, quis noi 
 indignissimum putct? Nee "ad commcndationem re- 
 galis imperii" plus "facit," quod Christus a regibus 
 originem duxit, quam facit ad pessimorum regum com- 
 mcndationem, Christum cos habuisse nepotem. " Rev 
 est Messias : " agnoscimus, gaudemus, et quam citis- 
 sime vcniat oramus ; dignus enim est, nee ei quisquam 
 similis aut secundus : interim regia gubernatio coni- 
 missa indiguis ct immerentibus, ut plerumque fieri 
 solct, plus mall quam honi attulisse humano <rrn(Mi 
 recte existimatur. Nee continuo sequitur omnes v< l;. s 
 tjrannos esse. Verum ita esto: do tibi hoc, ne iiic 
 niniis tenacem putes ; utere tu jam dato. " Ht3ec duo 
 sequuntur," inquis, " Deus ipse rex fuerit tyrannorum 
 dicendus, et quidem tyrannus ipse maximus." Horum 
 alterum si non sequitur, sequitur profecto illud quod 
 toto libro tuo semper fere sequitur, te non scripturee 
 solum, sed tibimet, perpetuo contradicere, ut qui proxi- 
 ma periodo supra dixeras, " unum Deum regem esse 
 omnium rerum, quas et ipse creavit." Creavit autem 
 et tyrannos et daemonas ; eorum itaque rex vel tua 
 ipsius sententia. In alterum despuimus, et blaspheraum 
 illud tibi OS obturatum volumus, qui Deum affirmcs 
 tyrannum esse maximum, si tyrannorum, quod ipse 
 stepius dicis, rex et dominus dicatur. Sed nee rem 
 regiam multo plus adjuvas, dum ostendis, Mosen etiam 
 cum " summa potestate regem fuisse." Nam fuerit saue 
 vel quivis alius, dummodo is sit qui res nostras, quern' 
 admodum Moses, " ad Deum referre" possit. Exod. 
 xviii. 19. Veriim neque Mosi, quamquam is Dei quasi 
 sodalis fuit, licuit in Dei populo quicquid libuit facere. 
 Quid enim ille ? " Venit ad me hie populus," inquit, 
 " ad consulendum Deum;" non ergo ad mandata Mo- 
 sis accipienda. Tum suscipit Jethro, " esto tu pro 
 hoc populo erga Deum, et commouefacias eos de legi- 
 bus Dei." Et Moses, Deut. iv. 5. " docui vos statuta 
 et judicia, quemadmodura proecepit niihi Deus." Un- 
 de " fidelis " dicitur " in tota domo Dei." Num. xii. 
 Rex itaque Jehova tum populi fuit ; Moses veluti in- 
 terpres tantum Jehovse regis. Impium igitur et sacri- 
 legum te esse oportet, qui summam hanc potestatem a 
 Deo ad hominera injussus ausis transferre, quam ipse 
 Moses non summam, sed vicariam tantum et internie- 
 diam sub preesenti numine, obtinuit. Accedit etiam cu- 
 mulus ad improbitatem tuam, quod Mosen hie summa 
 potestate regem fuisse dicas ; cum in Apparatu ad pri- 
 matum," p. 230. " Eum in commune cum lxx senio- 
 ribus populum rexisse ; et primum populi, non domi- 
 num fuisse" dixeris. Si igitur rex fuit, ut erat cert^, 
 et regum optimus, idque sicut ipse ais, cum " potestate 
 plane summa et regia," nee tamen dominus, neque so- 
 lus populum regebat, vel te authore ; necessario sequi- 
 tur, reges, quamvis summa potestate pracditos, jure ta- 
 men regio atque summo, non esse dominos, neque so- 
 los populum regere debere ; quanto minus ad libitum 
 suum. Jam vero qua impudentia Dei mandatum 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 663 
 
 ementiiis, " de reg'e statiin atque ingressi esseiit ter- 
 rain sanctam sibi constituendo." Deut. xvii. Suppri- 
 mis enim veteratorie quod praecedit, "sidixeris, sta- 
 tuam super me regeni ;" tuque memento quid a te jam 
 reposcam ; cum dixeris, p. 42. " Uberrima tunc potes- 
 tate populus erat praeditus." Nunc iterum fanaticus 
 an prolanus esse velis, ipse videres. " Deus," inquis, 
 " cum tanto ante determinaverit regium regimen insti- 
 tuendum tanquam optimum populi illius regendi sta- 
 tum,quomodo hciec conciliabuntur ? Propheta repug- 
 navit, Deus sic egit cum propheta, ut quasi nollet." 
 \'idet se illaqueatum, videt se impeditum: jam atten- 
 dite quanta cum malitia adversus prophetam, impietate 
 adversus Deum, expedire se quaerat : " cogitandum in 
 his est," inquit, " Samuelem esse, cnjus filii populum 
 tunc judicabant; eos populos repudiabat ob corrupta 
 judicia ; Samuel igitur noluit filios suos a populo reji- 
 ci ; Deus ut gratificaretur prophetae suo, iunuit non 
 yaldh sibi placere, quod populus desideraret." Die uno 
 verbo, iniprobe, quod per ambages dicis ; Samuel po- 
 pulo fucum fecit, Samueli Deus. Non advocatus ergo, 
 sed tu " ceritus" ille et " lymphaticus" es, qui raodo ut 
 regem bonores nil Deum revereris. Isne tibi Samuel 
 videtur, qui saluti aut charitati patrisE filiorum avari- 
 tiam et ambitionem praeposuerit, qui populo recta et sa- 
 lutaria petcnti, tarn callido consilio, tamque vafro, illu- 
 serit, falsa pro veris docuerit .-* Isne tibi Deus, qui in re 
 tam turpi ciiivis gratificaretur, aut cum populo simulate 
 ageret? Aut ergo jus regium non erat quod Propheta 
 populo exposuit, aut jus illud, teste Deo et Propheta, 
 malum, molestum, violentum, inutile, sumptuosum rei- 
 pub. erat ; aut denique, quod nefas est dicere, et Deus 
 ct Propheta populo verba dare voluerunt. Passim 
 enim testatur Deus valde sibi displ'cuisse quod regem 
 petissent. ver. 7. " Non te sed me spreverunt ne reg'- 
 nera super ipsos, secundi!im ilia facta quibus derelique- 
 runt me, et coluerunt Deos alienos :" acsi species quce- 
 dam idololatrice videretur regem petere, qui adorari se, 
 et honores prope divinos tribui sibi postulat. Sane, qui 
 supra omnes leges terrenum sibi dominum impouit, 
 prope est ut sibi Deum statuat alienum ; Deum utique 
 hand sippe rationabilem, sed profligata scepius ratione 
 brutuni, et belluinum. Sic 1 Sam. x. 19. " Vos spre- 
 vistis Deum vestrum, qui ipse servat vos ab omnibus 
 malis et angustiis vestris, cum dixistis ei, regem prae- 
 pones nobis :" et cap. xii. 12. " Vos regem petistis, 
 cum Jehova sit rex vester:" et ver. 17. " Videte ma- 
 lum vestrum magnum esse coram Jehova, petendo vo- 
 bis regem." Et contemptim Hosea de rege, xiii. 10, 
 11. " Ubi rex tuus, ubinam est ? servet te jam in ci- 
 vitatibus tuis. Ubi vindices tui ? quoniam dixisti, da 
 mihi regem et proceres : dedi tibi regem in ira mea." 
 Hinc Gedeon ille heros rege major, " Non dominabor 
 in vos, neque filius mens in vos dominabitur, sed domi- 
 nabitur in vos Jehova," Jud. viii. plan^ ac si simul do- 
 cuisset, non hominis esse dominari in homines, sed solius 
 Dei. Hinc Hebriseorum renipublicam, in qua Deus prin- 
 cipatum solus teuuit, OtoKpariav vocat Josephus, contra 
 Apionem grammaticum ^gyptium, et maledicum tui si- 
 milem. Populus denique resipiscens, apud Isaiam, xxvi. 
 13. calamitosum hoc sibi fuisse queritur, quod alios pree- 
 
 ter Deum dominos habuerat. Indicio sunt hsec omnia 
 regem, irato Deo, Israelitis fuisse datum. In historia 
 tyranni Abimelechi quis est cui non risum moveas? dc 
 quo dicitur, cum is partim saxo a muliere, partim 
 armigeri gladio, interfectus fuerit, " reddidit Deus 
 malum Abimelechi. Haec," inquis, " historia potentis- 
 sime adstruit Deum solum regum judicem esse et vin- 
 dicem :" iramo tyrannorum, nebulonum, nothorum, si 
 hoc valebit : quicunque per fas aut nefas tyrannidem 
 occupaverit, is jus regium statim in populum adeptus 
 erit, poenas effugit ; confestim arma raagistratui de 
 manibus fluent, mussare deinceps populus non aude- 
 bit. Verum quid si magnus aliquis latro hoc modo 
 in bello periisset, an Deus ergo solus latronum vin- 
 dex ? Quid si carnificis manu lege damnatus, an 
 ideo minus illi Deus malum reddidisset ? Ne ju- 
 dices quidem eorura unquam legisti lege postula- 
 tos; tamen "in optimatum statu vel principem, si 
 quid committal, posse ac debere judicari," ultro fateris, 
 p. 47. cur non item tyrannus in regno ? quia Deus red- 
 didit malum Abimelechi. At reddidit quoque mulier 
 ilia, reddidit etiam armiger, in quos ille ambos jus re- 
 gium habere prte se tulit. Quid si reddidisset magis- 
 tratus, annon is idcirco Dei gladium gerit, ut malum 
 malis reddat.!* Ab hoc " potentissimo" de morte Abi- 
 melechi argumento ad vcrborum contumelias more suo 
 seconvertit; nil nisi " ccenum et lutum" ore funditat; 
 ciim eorum, quce promisit se probaturum, nihil vel ex 
 sacris libris, vel ex rabbinicis, probaverit. Nam neque 
 regem legibus solutum esse, nee cur puniri, si delin- 
 quat, solus mortalium non debeat, quicquara ostendit. 
 Immo suis ipse testibus se induit, et sententiam suse 
 contrariam esse veriorem suomet ipse o])ere demonstrat. 
 Cumque argumeutis parum proficiat, criminationibus 
 atrocissimis omnium in nos odium excitare conatur, 
 quasi rege optimo et innocentissimo crudeliter sublato. 
 " An Solomon," inquit, " melior rex Carolo prirao fuiti*" 
 Sunt, ut verum fatear, qui patrem ejus Jacobum cum 
 Solomone comparare non dubitarunt, et natalibus 
 quidem anteferre. Solomon Davidis filius; is primo 
 Saulis musicus erat; Jacobus Darlii comitis filius, qui 
 Davidera musicum, reginse uxoris thalamos nocte in- 
 gressum,cumostiopessulumobdidissedeprehendit,haud 
 multo post interfecit, ut narrat Buchanan us. Natali- 
 bus ergo illustrior Jacobus, et secundus Solomon saepe 
 dictus, quamvis Davidis musici filius an fuerit dubium 
 sit. At Carolum conferre cum Solomone qui tibi in 
 mentem venire potuerit non video. Quem enim tu 
 Carolum tot laudibus tollis, ejus pervicaciam, avari- 
 tiam, crudelitatem, et saevum in omnes pios atque bo- 
 nos dominatum, ejus bella, incendia, rapinas, et mise- 
 rorum civium csedes innumeras, dum hoec scribo, Caro- 
 lus ipse filius in ilia publicse poenitentise sedecula apud 
 Scotos coram populo confitetur atque deplorat : immo 
 tuum illud regium jus ejurat. Verum si parallclis tau- 
 topere delectaris, Carolum cum Solomone conferamus. 
 Solomon a meritissimo "fratris" supplicio " regnum 
 auspicatus est:" Carolus a patris funere ; non dico a 
 nece, quamvis indicia veneni omnia in corpore patris 
 mortui conspecta sint ; ista enim suspicio in Bucching- 
 hamio constitit; quem tamen Carolus, et regis inter- 
 
064 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 fectorem ct sui patris, iion solum in comitiis omni culpa 
 cxemit, sed, ne omnino res ea sciiatus cog-uitioni subji- 
 ceretur, comitia dissolvit. Solomon " gravissimis tribu- 
 tis populum prcssit:" ut ille in templum Dei ct aedifi- 
 cia publica impendit, Carolus in luxum. Solomon a 
 pluriniis uxoribus ad idolnrum caltum pellcctus est, hie 
 ab una. Pellectus in fraudcm Solomon, pellexissc alios 
 lion leg^Uir; hie alios, non solum uberrimis corruptoc 
 ceclesiie prtemiis pcUexit, sed etiam edictis et canoni- 
 bus ccclesiasticis eoegit, ut invisa reformatis omnibus 
 altaria statuerent, ct pictos in parictc crucifixos altari- 
 hus imminentcs adorarcnt. At non est ideo " Solomon a 
 populo capitis damnatus." Nee inde, inquam, sequitur 
 damnari a populo non debuisse ; multa enira incidere 
 potuerunt, cur id turn expedire populo non videretur. 
 Populus ccrte quid sui juris essct baud multo post et 
 verbis ct factis patefecit : cum Solomonis filium decem 
 tribus expulcruut ; et nisi mature se in fug-am conje- 
 cisset, cliani lapidibus regem tantummodo minacem 
 obruturos fuissc credibile est. 
 
 CAPUT III. 
 
 CcM satis jam disputatum atque conclusum sit, re- 
 ges Mosaicos, ex proescripto Dei, omnibus obstrictos 
 legibus pariter cum populo fuisse, nullas legum excep- 
 tiones perscriptas inveniri, ut reges " quod vellent, 
 impund possent," aut ut " a populo puniri ne possint ; 
 Deum" proinde *' vindictam de his tribunali suo reser- 
 vasse" falsissimum esse, sine authore, sine ratione dic- 
 tum, Tideamus an id suadeat evangelium, quod dis- 
 snasit lex, non imperavit : videamus an evangelium, 
 divinum illud libertatis prteconium, nos in servitu- 
 tem addicat regibus et tyrannis, quorum ab impotenti 
 imperio etiam ser\itutis cujusdam magistra lex vetus 
 populum Dei liberavit. Primum argumentum ducis a 
 persona Christi, quem quis nescit non privati solilm, sed 
 etiam serri personam ideo sumpsissc, ut nos liberi esse- 
 mus. Neque hoc de interna tantum libcrtate iutelligen- 
 dura est, non de civili; quam enim aliena sunt istaquae 
 Maria, mater Christi, ejus in aventu cecinit, " superbos 
 dissipavil cogitatione cordis ipsorum, detraxat dynastas 
 h thronis.'humiles evexit," si adventus ejus tyrannos po- 
 tins in solio stabiliret, Christianos omnes eorum seeris- 
 simo imperio subjiceret. Ipse sub tyrannisuascendo,ser- 
 ▼iendo, patiendo, oranem honestam libertatem nobis ac- 
 quisivit : ut posse serritutem, si necesse est, eequo animo 
 pati, sic posse ad libertatem honeste aspirare non ab- 
 stulit Cbristus, sed majorem in modum dedit. Hinc 
 Paulus, 1 Cor. vii. non de evangelica solum, sed de 
 civili libertate, sic statuit : " Servus vocatus es ? ne sit 
 tibi xiurae ; sin autem potes liber fieri, potiu." utere ; 
 pretio empti estis, ne estote serri hominum." Frustra 
 igitur ab exemplo Christi ad servitutem nos hortaris, 
 qui sute servitutis pretio libertatem nobis etiam civilem 
 confirmavit. Et formam quidem servi nostra vice sus- 
 cepit, animum vero liberatoris nunquam non retinuit : 
 unde jus regium quid sit, longe aliter docuisse osten- 
 dam, atque tu doces; qui non regii, sed tyrannici juris. 
 
 idquc in rcpublica novus professor, siqua gens tyran- 
 num sive hocrcditarium, sive adventitium, sive fortui- 
 tum, sortita erit, earn non solum necessitate, sed etiam 
 rcligione, servam esse statuis. Tuis autem, ut soleo, 
 in te utar testimoniis. Interrogavit Petruin Cbristus, 
 cum ab eo coactores quidam Galileei didracbma exige- 
 bant. Mat. xvii. a quibus acciperent reges terrte tributa, 
 sive censuin, a filiis suis, an ab alienis ? respondet ei 
 Petrus, ab alienis. Ergo, inquit Cbristus, " liberi sunt 
 filii ; sed ne offendamus illos, da iis pro me et pro te." 
 Vari^ hie locus interpretes exercet, cuinam persolve- 
 rentur haec didracbma, alii sacerdotibus in sanctuarium, 
 alii Coesari : ego quidem Herodi persoluta, intcrvcrso 
 sanctuarii reditu, sentio fuisse. Varia enira ab Ilcrodc 
 et filiis ejus exacta tributa, ab Agrippa tandem remissa, 
 narrat Josephus. Hoc autem tributum per sc exiguum, 
 multis aliis adjunctum, grave erat: gravia autem fue- 
 rint oportet de quibus hie Cliristus loquitur, alioqui, in 
 rcpublica etiam, pauperes capite ceusi fuerunt. Hinc 
 itaque Cbristus Herodis injustitiam arguendi, cujus 
 sub ditione erat, occasionem cepit. Qui, cum cceteri 
 reges terree (siquidem patriae parcntes dici se cupiant) 
 non filiis, id est, civibus suis, sed alienis, bello nempe 
 subactis, graviora tributa imperare soleaiit, hie contra 
 non alienos, sed filios opprimeret. Utcunque sit, sive 
 filios hie, cives regum proprios, sive filios Dei, id est, 
 fideles et in universum Christianos iutelligi concedas, 
 ut intelligit Augustinus, certissimum est, si filius fuit 
 Petrus, et proinde liber, nos etiam authore Christ© 
 liberos esse : vel ut cives, vel ut Cliristianos : non esse 
 ergo juris regii a filiis et liberis tributa graviora exi- 
 gere, Testatur enim Cbristus persolvisse se, non quod 
 deberet, sed ne illos offendendo qui cxigebant negotium 
 sibi privatus exhiberet: cum officium ac munus lon- 
 gissirae diversum in illo vitte suee curriculo explendum 
 sibi esset. Dum igitur negat Cbristus jus regium esse, 
 graviora vectigalia liberis imponere, certe spoliare, 
 diripere, occidere, excruciare proprios cives, et prteser- 
 tim Christianos, jus esse regium multo evideutius 
 negat. Hunc in raodum de jure regio cum et alias 
 disputasse videatur, venire in suspicionem quibusdam 
 coepit, non se tj'rannorum licentiam pro jure regio ha- 
 bere. Non enim de nihilo erat, quod Pharissei interro- 
 gatione hujusmodi animum ejus tentarent, quod de 
 jure regio percontaturi, cum neminem curare, non re- 
 spicere personam hominum, dixeriut ; neque de nihilo, 
 quod is proposita sibi istiusmodi questione irasceretur, 
 Mat. xxii. An te quispiam si insidiose aggredi, si lo- 
 quentem captare vellet, si elicere ex te quod fraudi 
 futurum tibi sit, de jure regio sub rege interrogarct .f* 
 an tu cuipiam de istoc interroganti irascerere .'' non 
 opinor. Vel hinc ergo perspicias, non id cum de jure 
 regio scnsisse quod regibus graturn erat. Idem ex rc- 
 sponso ejus apertissime colligitur, quo ille percoutatorcs 
 amandare k se potius quam doccre videtur. Poseit 
 numisma census; " Cujus," inquit, " imago ista est? 
 Ciesaris. Reddite ergo Ctesari quie sunt Csesaris, qute 
 Dei sunt Deo." Imrao quce populi sunt populo red- 
 dcnda esse quis nescit .'' Reddite omnibus quod debelis, 
 inquit Paulus, Rom. xiii. non ergo Ctesari omnia. 
 Libertas nostra non Ctesaris, vcrum ab ipso Deo natale 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 665 
 
 nobis donura est; earn Coesari cuivus reddere, quara 
 ab eo non accepimus, turpissimum esset, et humana 
 origine indig-nissimum. Si enira os honiinis et vul- 
 tiim aspiciens intcrrog'aret quisquam, cujus ista imago 
 esset, aniion facile qiiivis responderet Dei esse ? Cum 
 igitur Dei simus, id est, vere liberi, ob eamqiie causam 
 soli Deo reddendi, profecto Caesari nos, id est, bomini, 
 et pripsertim injusto, improbo, tyranno, in servitutem 
 tradcre, sine piaculo, et quidem maximo sacrilegio uon 
 possumus. Interim quas Caesaris sint, quae Dei, in 
 medio relinquit. Quod si idem erat hoc nuniisma, quod 
 didraclimum illud Deo pendi solitum, ut ceite postea 
 sub Vespasiano fuit, turn sane controversiam uon mi- 
 nuit Chiistus, sed implicavit: cum impossibile sit Deo 
 et Coesari idem sinnil reddere. At enim ostendit quae 
 Ceesaris esscnt; numisraa nempe illud Caesaris imagine 
 signatum. Quid igitur inde lucraris prajter denarium 
 vel Csesari vel tibi? Aut enim Ceesari Christus prceter 
 denarium illud nibil dedit, cajtera omnia nobis asseruit, 
 aut si quicquid pecuniae Ccesaris nomine inscriptum 
 esset, id Caesari dedit, contrarius jam sibi, nostra fcr6 
 omnia Coesari dabit, qui duo modo didrachma regibus 
 non se ex debito persolvcrc, et suo ct Petri nomine 
 professus est. Ratio denique infirma est qua niteris ; 
 non enim principis effigicra habet moneta, ut principis 
 esse, scd ut probam se esse, moneat; atque se principis 
 nomine insiguitam ne quis audeat adulterarc. Sin 
 autera ad jus rcgium inscriptio tantuni valerat, reges 
 profecto nostras omnium facultates, uti esscnt suoe, 
 sola nominis inscriptione statim perficerent ; aut si 
 nostra omnia jam sua sunt, quod tuum dogma est, 
 non idcirco Coesari nuraisma illud reddendum erat, 
 quia Ctesaris nomen aut imaginem proetulit, sed quia 
 Cocsaris jam antea jure erat, nulla lic6t imagine sig- 
 natum. Ex quo manifestum est, Christum hoc in 
 loco non tarn nos officii nostri erga reges aut Cte- 
 sarcs ita pcrplexe atque ambigue admonere voluisse, 
 quam Pharisat^os hypocritas improbitatis ct militioe ar- 
 guere. Quid.' rursus ciim ei nuntiarent Pharisffii Hc- 
 rodcm ejus vitte insidias parare, an bumile aut demis- 
 sum ab co responsum, tyranno reddendum, tulcrunt ? 
 Immo " itc," inquit, " ct dicite vulj)i illi;" innuens 
 reges non jure regio, scd vulpino, civibus suis insidiari. 
 Atqui " sub tyranno supplicium mortis subire sustinuit." 
 Enimvcro qui potuit nisi sub tyranno ? " supplicium 
 sub tyranno passusest;" ergo ad injustissima quoevis 
 juris regii testis et assertor: egregius tu quidem offi- 
 ciorum ratiocinator es. Veriim Christus quaravis nostri 
 liberandi, non sub jugum mittendi, causa servum se 
 feccrit, tamen ad hunc modum se gessit ; nee juri quic- 
 quani regio prjetcr oequum et bonum concessit. Nunc 
 ad ])roecepta ejus hac de re aliquando veniamus. Ze- 
 bedaci filios maximam in regno Christi, quod mox in 
 terris futurum somniabant, dignitatem affectantes, sic 
 Christus corripuit, ut omnes simul Christianos com- 
 monefaceret, quale jus magistratus et imperii civilis 
 apud cos constitui voluerit. " Scitis," inquit, " prin- 
 ci])es gentium 'in cas dominari, et raagnatus authorita- 
 tem exercerc in eas, venim non ita erit inter vos. Sed 
 quicunque volet inter tos magnus fieii, esto vester 
 minister; et quicunque volet inter vos primus esse, esto 
 
 vester scrvus." Hoec tu nisi mente captus tecum facere 
 credidisses ? hisne te argumentis vincere, ut reges nos- 
 tros reruni dorainos existimemus ? Tales in bello hostes 
 nobis contiugant, qui in castra bostium (quanquam et 
 armatos vincere sat scimus) uti tu soles, caeci atque in- 
 ermes tanquam in sues incidant: ita semper, quod tibi 
 maxime adversatur, id demens, veluti firmissimum 
 causae tuoe subsidium, comparare consuevisti. Petebant 
 Israelitae regem, " ut habebant omnes istfe gentes:" 
 dissuasit Deus multis verbis, quae Christus hie sura- 
 matim complexus est, " scilis principes gentium in eas 
 dominari : " petentibus tamen iis dedit regem Deus, 
 quamvis iratus : Christus, ne peteret omnino Chris- 
 tianus populus more gentium dominaturum, adhibita 
 cautione antevertit; " inter vos non ita erit." Quid 
 lioc clarius dici potuit ? uon erit inter vos ista regum 
 supcrba dominatio, tametsi specioso titulo euergetae et 
 benefici vocentur; scd qui magnus inter vos fieri vult, 
 (quis autem principe major ?) " esto vester minister : " 
 et qui primus sive " princeps, (Luc. xxii.) esto vester 
 servus." Non erravit itaque Advocatus ille quem iu- 
 scctaris, sed authorem habuit Christum, si regem Chris- 
 tianum populi ministrum esse dixit, uti est certe omnis 
 bonus magistratus. Rex autem inter Christianos aut 
 omninu non erit, aut erit servus omnium ; si plane vult 
 es.se dominus, esse simul Christianus non potest. Quin 
 et Moses, legis quodammodo servilis institutor, non 
 populo tamen superbe dominabatur, sed onus ipse 
 populi fcrebat; ferebat in sinu populum, ut nutricius 
 lactantem; Num. xi. Nutricius autem servus est. Plato 
 non dominos, sed servatorcs et adj uteres, populi appel- 
 landos esse magistratus docuit; populum non servos, sed 
 altores, magistratuum, ut qui alimcnta et stipendia ma- 
 gistratibus etiam regibus praebeant. Eosdcm Aristoteles 
 custodes et ministros legum vocat, Plato et ministros et 
 servos. Ministros Dei Apostolus quidem appcllat, quod 
 tamen nequaquam obstat quo minus sint et legum et 
 populi ; tarn leges enim quam magistratus propter po- 
 pulum sunt. Et tamen banc tu " Fanaticorum Anglioe 
 Molossorum opinionem" esse clamitas. Molossos esse 
 Anglos ccrt6 non putarem, nisi quod tu illos, bybrida, 
 latratu tam degeneri oblatras ; Lu])i, si diis placet, 
 Sancti Dominus : Lupus nimirum sanctus queritur 
 Molossos esse fanaticos. Germanus olim, cujus ille 
 Lupus Trecassinus collega fuit, incesto ajiud nos regi 
 Vortigerno authoritate sua regnum abrogavit. Sanctus 
 itaque Lupus talem te Lupi non sancti, sed famelici 
 cujuspiam et latrunculi,dominum,illo apud Martialem 
 viperarum domino viliorem, aspernatur : qui et latran- 
 tem ipse domi, ut feruut, Lyciscam babes, quae tibi 
 niisere dominatur; cujus partim impulsu etiam scrip- 
 sisse hoec diccris ; unde mirum non est velle tc regiam 
 dominationem aliis obtrudere, qui foemineum ipse domi 
 dominatum ferre tam serviliter assuevisti. Sis itaque 
 Lupi Dominus, sit Lupa tui domina, sis Lupus ipse, sis 
 Lycanthropus, molossis mehercule Anglicanis ludi- 
 briumdebes. Verum lupos venari nunc non est otium; 
 sylvis itaque cgressi, in viara regiam redcamus. Qui 
 contra omnem in ecclesia primatum nuper scripsisti, 
 nunc " Petrum Apostolicoe coronae principem appellas." 
 Quis tibi authoritate tam fluxa bomunculo fidem ha- 
 
666 
 
 PRO POPULO ANOLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 beat ? Quid Petrus ? " subject! estote omni humanse 
 ordinationi propter Dominum, sive regi ut superemi- 
 iienti, sive pra-sidibns, ut qui per eum mittantur, ad 
 ultionem quidem facinorosorum, laudeni vero benefa- 
 cientium ; quoniani ita est voluntas Dei." Scripsit 
 baec Petrus non solum privatis, scd etiam advcnis per 
 Miuorem fer^ Asiatn dispersis, atquc dispalutis; qui, 
 in iis ubi degebant locis, nuUius juris prtetcrquam hos- 
 pitalis capaces erant. An tu incolas, liberos, nobilcs, 
 iudigenarum conventus, comitia, parlamenta idem in 
 sua patria, quod sparsos et peregrinos in aliena, decere 
 putas? an idem privatos decere in sua, quod senatorcs 
 et magistratus, sine quibus ne rcges quidem esse pos- 
 sunt ? fac tamen indigenas fuisse, fac non priratos, sed 
 senatum ipsum Romanum, cui hccc scripta sunt. Quid 
 inde assequeris? ciim nullum praeccptum cui ratio 
 aliqua adjuncta est, quenquam ultra illam prascepti 
 ratiouem obligare aut soleat aut possit. " Estote sub- 
 ject!, ii7rorayi;rf , id est, si vim verbi spectes, subordinati, 
 sen legitime subjecti, ») yap ra^«c vo/ioc, inquit Aristo- 
 teles; lex est ordo. " Subjecti estote propter Domi- 
 num." Quamobrem.'* quia cum rex, tum praeses, con- 
 stituitur a Deo ad ultionem facinorosorum, laudem be- 
 nefacientium. " Quoniam ita voluntas est Dei." Vi- 
 delicet ut talibus obsequamur, qualcs bic describuntur ; 
 de aliis nullum hie verbum. Vides quam optime hu- 
 jus praecepti constet ratio ; addit, v. 16. " ut liberi," 
 non erg^ ut mancipia. Quid si versa vice ad crucem 
 et pemiciem bonorum, ad impunitatem et laudem et 
 pnemia facinorosorum, regnent ? an in perpetuum sub- 
 jecti erimus non privati solum, sed primores, sed magis- 
 tratus omnes, ipse denique senatus ? Annon bumana 
 ordinatio dicitur ? cur ergo potestas bumana, ad con- 
 stituendum quod bominibus bonum et salubre est, va- 
 lebit, ad tollendum quod iisdera malum et exitiosum 
 est, non valebit.'* Atqui rex ille, cui subjecti esse ju- 
 bentur, erat Romee ea tempestate Nero tyrannus ; ergo 
 tj'rannis etiam subjecti esse debenius. At, inquam, et 
 dubium boc est, Nero an Claudius tunc temporis rerum 
 potiretur, et illi qui subjecti esse jubeutur, advense, 
 dispersi, privati, non consules, non praetores, non sena- 
 tus Romanus, erant. Nunc Paulum adeamus (quoniam 
 tu quod nobis de regibus licere non vis, id tibi de 
 Apostolis licere autumas, ut principatum Petro modo 
 des, modo eripias): Paulus hspc ad Romanos, c. xiii. 
 " omnis anima potestatibus supereminentibus subjecta 
 esto ; non est enim potestas nisi a Deo, quae autem 
 sunt potestates a Deo sunt ordinatee :" Romanis hsec 
 scribit, non, ut Petrus, advenis, dispersis, sed pri- 
 vatis tamen potissimum et plebeiis   ita etiam scribit, 
 ut totam reipub. administrandae rationem, originem, 
 finem, luculentissim6 doceat. Quo magis obedientice 
 quoque noslrce vera ac distincta ratio, ab omni servi- 
 tute disjuDCta, eluceret. " Omnis anima," hoc est, 
 quisque homo, " subjectus esto." Quid sibi Apostolus 
 proponat hoc capite satis explanavit Cbrysostomus, 
 voiu Tovro oiiKvig, &c. " facit hoc," inquit, " ut osten- 
 dat Christum leges suas non ad hoc induxisse, ut com- 
 munem politiam everteret, scd ut in melius statueret." 
 Non ergo ut Neronem, aut tyrannum quemvis alium 
 supra omncm legem et poenam constituendo, crude- 
 
 lissimum uuius imperium in omnes mortales cousta- 
 biliret. " Utque simul doceret superflua et inutilia 
 bella non esse suscipienda," non ergo bcUa daninat 
 contra tyrannum, hostem patrite intcstinum, atquc adeo 
 periculosissimum, suscepta. " Pervulgatus tunc erat 
 hominumscrmo traducens Apostolos tanquam seditiosos, 
 et novatores, quasi omnia ad evertendum leges com- 
 munes et facerent et dicerent ; his nunc ora obstruit." 
 Non ergd tyraunorum defensiones conscripserunt 
 Apostoli, quod tu facis, sed ea fecerunt, ea docuerunt, 
 quoe suspecta omnibus tjrannis defensione apud illos 
 potiiks,etinlcrpretationequadam, egebant. Propositum 
 Apostolo quid fuerit ex Chrysostomo vidimus; nunc 
 verba scrutemur. " Omnis anima potestatibus super- 
 eminentibus subjecta esto ;" quse tamen istce sint non 
 statuit: non enimjuraatqueinstituta omnium nationum 
 abolere, unius libidini omnia permittere, in animo erat. 
 Certe optimus quisque iniperator authoritatem legum 
 et senatus autfaoritate sua longe superiorem semper 
 agnovit. Idem apud omnes nationes non barbaras jus 
 semper sanctissimum fuit. Unde Pindarus apud 
 Herodotum, vofiov iravriav fiaaiXsa, legem omnium re- 
 gem esse, dixit ; Oi-pbeus in hymnis non mortalium 
 solum, sed immortalium etiam, regem appellat ; 
 
 ' A^avaTCJV Ka\iu> Kal ^i/jjrwv ayvbv dpuKTa 
 Ovpdvtov vopov. 
 
 Reddit rationem. Avt6s yap {iovoq Ziixav otyca Kparvvn, 
 " Lex enim sola viventium gubernaculum tenet." Plato 
 in legibus to Kparsv iv ry ttoKh, id quod in civitate plu- 
 rimum debet posse, legem esse ait. In epistolis earn 
 maxime rempub. laudat, ubi lex, et domina et rex ho- 
 minum, non homines tyranni legum sunt. Eadem 
 Aristotelis sententia in Politicis, eadem Ciceronis in 
 Legibus, ita leges prseesse magistratibus, ut magistra- 
 tus pnesunt populo. Cum itaque sapientissimorum 
 virorum judicio, prudentissimarum civitatum institutis, 
 lex semper potestas summa atque suprema habita sit, 
 nee evangelii doctrina cum ratione aut cum jure gen- 
 tium pugnet, is utique potestatibus supereminentibus 
 verissime subjectus erit, qui legibus, et magistratibus 
 juxta leges rempub. gubernantibus, ex animo paret. 
 Non ergo solum populo subjectionem banc, sed regibus 
 etiam, praecipit; qui supra leges nequaquam sunt. 
 " Non est enim potestas nisi a Deo ; id est, nulla reipub. 
 forma, nulla homines regendi legitima ratio. Antiquis- 
 simee etiam leges ad authorem Deum olim refereban- 
 tur; est enim lex, ut Cicero in Philipp. 12. nihil aliud 
 nisi recta et a numine deorum tracta ratio, imperans 
 honesta, prohibens contraria. A Deo igitur est magis- 
 tratuum institutio, ut corum administratione gens bu- 
 mana sub legibus viveret : banc autem vel illam admi- 
 nistrationis formam, hos vel illos raagistratus, cligendi 
 optio proculdubio penes liberas hominum nationes sem- 
 per fuit. Hinc Petrus et regem et presides a'fdpuTrtvi;!' 
 KTiffiv, humanam creationeni, vocat; et Hosca c. 8. 
 " constituunt reges, at non ex me ; prteficiunt priucipes 
 quos non agnosco." In ista enim sola Hebraeorum 
 repub. ubi Deum variis modis consulere poterant, de 
 regis nominatione ad Deum refcrri ex lege oportebat : 
 ccDteree gcntes mandatum a Deo nullum istiusmodi 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 667 
 
 acceplmus. AHquando aut ipsa regiminis forma, si 
 Titiosa sit, aut illi qui potestatem obtinent, et ab homi- 
 nibus, et a diabolo, sunt. Luc. 4. " Tibi dabo potesta- 
 tem banc omnem, nam mihi tradita est, et cui voio do 
 illam." Hiiic princeps hujus mundi dicitur, et Apoca- 
 Ijp. 13. dedit Bestice Draco potentiam suam, et thro- 
 num suum, et potestatem magnam. Propterea necesse 
 est hie intelligi non potestatcs quascunque, sed legiti- 
 mas, prout etiam infra describuntur ; necesse est in- 
 telligi potestates ipsas, non semper eos qui imperium 
 obtinent. Hinc dilucid^ Chrysostomus, " Quid ais ?" 
 inquit; " omnis ergo princeps a Deo constitutus est ? 
 non dico : non enim de quovis principe, sed de ipsa 
 re, loquitur Apostolus; non dicit, non est princeps nisi 
 a Deo, sed non est potestas." Hoec Chrysostomus. 
 " Quee autem potestates sunt, a Deo sunt ordinatoe." 
 Legitinias ergo vult hie intelligi Apostolus; malum 
 enim et vitium, cum ataxia sit, non est ut possit ordi- 
 nari, et esse simul vitiosum. Hoc enim duo siraul cou- 
 traria ponit, taxin et ataxian. " Quae autem sunt," ita 
 interpretaris ac si diceretur, " quae nunc sunt;" quo 
 facilius probare possis etiam Neroni, qui, ut opinaris, 
 tunc " imperavit," Romanos obtemperare debuisse ; 
 nostra san^ bona venia : quam enim voles de Anglicana 
 repub. male sentias, in ea tamen Anglos acquiescere 
 dcberc, quoniam " nunc est," et " a Deo ordinatur," ut 
 Ncronis olim imperium, necesse habebis concedere. 
 Neque enim Nero minds quam Tiberius "artibus ma- 
 tris imperium nihil ad sc pertinens" occupaverat, ne 
 legitime partum fuisse respondeas. Quo sceleratior et 
 doctrinac retractator ipse tuse, Romanos potestati quee 
 tunc fuit subjectos esse vis, Anglos potestati qua; nunc 
 est subjectos esse non vis. Veriim nullie in hoc orbe 
 terrarum res dute magis e regione advcrsae sibi sunt, 
 quam tu nequissimus ncquissimo semper fere adversus 
 es tibi. Quid autem facies miser ? acuminc hoc tuo 
 regcm adolescentem plane perdidisti; ab ipsa enim 
 tua sententia extorquebo ut fatearis, banc potestatem 
 in Anglia, qute nunc est, a Deo ordinatam esse; atque 
 omnes proinde Anglos intra ejusdem reipublicic fines 
 eidem potestati subjectos esse debere. Attendite igitur, 
 critici, et manus abstinete; Salmasii nova htec emen- 
 datio est, in epistola ad Romanos ; non qute sunt 
 potestates," sed qute nunc existunt" reddi debere adin- 
 venit; ut Neroni tyranno tunc scilicet imperanti sub- 
 jectos esse omnes oportuisse demonstraret. At 6 bone, 
 XrjKvOiov an-tiXterac : ut regem modo, ita nunc interpre- 
 tamentum hoc tam bellum, perdidisti. Quam tu epis- 
 tolam sub Nerone scriptam esse ais, sub Claudio scrip- 
 ta est, principe simplici, et non male: hoc viri docti 
 certissimis argumentis compertum habent ; quinquen- 
 nium etiam Neronis laudatissimum fuit, unde argu- 
 nicntum hoc toties inculcatum, quod multis in ore est, 
 multis imposuit, tyranno parendum esse, eo quod Pau- 
 lus hortatus est Romanos ut Neroni essent subjecti, 
 callidum indocti cujuspiam commentum esse reperi- 
 tur. " Qui obsistit potestati," scilicet legitimse, " Dei 
 ordinationi obsistit." Astringit etiam reges praeceptum 
 hoc, qui legibus et senatui obsistunt. At vero qui po- 
 testati vitiosae, aut potestatis non vitiosse corruptori et 
 eversori, obsistit, an is Dei ordinationi obsistit ? sanus, 
 
 credo, non dixeris. Tollit omnem dubitationem sequens 
 versiculus, de legitima tantum potestate Apostolum hie 
 loqui. Definiendo enim explicat, nequis errare, et 
 opiniones hinc stolidas aucupari, possit, qui sint magis- 
 tratus potestatis hujus] ministri, et quam ob causam 
 subjectos esse nos hortetur; " Magistratus non sunt 
 timori bonis operibus, sed malis ; boni a potestate hac 
 laudem adipiscentur; magistratus minister est Dei 
 nostro bono datus ; non frustra gladium gerit, vindex 
 ad iram ei qui malum facit." Quis negat, quis recusat, 
 nisi improbus, quin hujusmodi potestati aut potestatis 
 administro libens se subjiciat ? non solum ad vitandam 
 " iram" et offensionem, aut pcenae metu, sed etiam 
 " propter conscientiam." Sine magistratibus enim et 
 civili gubernatione, nulla respublica, nulla societas 
 humana, nulla vita, esse potest. Quae autem potestas, 
 qui magistratus, contraria his facit, neque ilia, neque 
 hie, a Deo propria ordiuatus est. Unde neque tali vel 
 potestati, vel magistratui, subjectio debetur aut prseci- 
 pitur, neque nos prudenter obsistere prohibemur: non 
 enim potestati, non magistratui, obsistemus, qui hie 
 optime depingitur, sed prtedoni, sed tyranno, sed hosti; 
 qui si magistratus tamen dicendus erit, eo duntaxat 
 quod habet potestatem, quod ad poenam nostram ordi- 
 nari a Deo videri potest, etiam diabolus hoc modo ma- 
 gistratus erit. San6 unius rei una vera definitio est : 
 si ergo Paulus hie magistratum definit, quod quidem 
 accurate facit, eadem definitione, iisdem verbis tyran- 
 num, rem maxime contrariam, definire non potuit. 
 Unde quem ipse magistratum definivit atque descrip- 
 sit, ei duntaxat subjectos nos esse voluisse, non ejus 
 contrario tyranno, certissim^ coUigitur. " Propter hoc 
 tributa solvitis ;" rationem adjungit ad praeceptum; 
 unde Chrysostomus, " Cur," inquit, " vectigalia regi 
 damns ? annon tanquam nobis prospicienti, curie ac 
 tuitionis mercedem solventes ? atqui nihil illi solvis- 
 semus, nisi ab initio utilem nobis talem esse prtefectu- 
 ram cognovissemus." Quapropter illud repetam quod 
 supra dixi ; quandoquidem subjectio hsec non simpli- 
 citer, sed cum adjuncta ratione, a nobis requiritur, ilia 
 profecto ratio quee adjungitur, subjectionis nostra.' vera 
 norma erit: Cum ista ratione non subjecti, rebellcs ; 
 sine ista ratione subjecti, servi erimus et socordes. "At 
 Angli," inquis, "nihil minus quam liberi, quia mali, 
 quia flagitiosi." Nolo ego Gallorum vitia commemo- 
 rare, quamvis sub regibus sint ; neque Anglorum ni- 
 mis excusare ; dico tamen ilia esse flagitia, quae sub 
 regibus, tanquam in iEgypto didicerunt; neque dum 
 in deserto ; licet Dei sub imperio, dediscere statira po- 
 tuerunt. Spes est tamen de plerisque bona; ut ne 
 sanctissimos hie optimosque viros et veritatis studiosis- 
 simos collaudare incipiam ; quorum apud nos non mi- 
 norem credo esse numerum,quam ubitu maximum esse 
 existimas. At " jugum Anglis durum imponitur." Quid 
 si illis, qui jugum caeteris civibus imponere studebant? 
 quid si suo deinde merito subactis ? nam ceeteri puto 
 non moleste ferunt, exhausto civilibus bellis aerario, 
 sumptibus propriis suam se tolerare libertatem. Re- 
 labiturjam ad rabbinos nugivendos. Regem legibus 
 astrictum esse negat, ex iis tamen probat " leesae ma- 
 jestatis reum esse posse, si jus suum patiaturimminui:" 
 
668 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 astrictus itaque et non astrictus, reus et Don reus rex, 
 erit: adeo frequenter enim solet repuguare sibi, ut ipsa 
 repug'nantia huic lioniini geniiana atquc g^emclla esse 
 \ideatur. Atqui Deus, iuquis, niulta rcgiia Nebu- 
 cbadnezzari in servitutera dedit. Fateur ad ccrtuni 
 tempus dedisse, Jer. 27. 7, Anglos in servitutera Ca- 
 rolo Stuarto ad seiniborulam dedisse ostendc ; permi- 
 sisse non negarerim, dedisse nunquam audivi. Aut si 
 Deus in servitutera dat populura,quoties tyrannus plus 
 populo potest, cur non idera liberare diccndus erit, 
 quoties plus potest populus tjranno ? an is Deo tyran- 
 nidem suam, nos Deo libertateni nostrara, acceptam 
 non feremus? Non est malum in civitatc quod Deus 
 non immittat, Amos 3. famem,pestilentiam,scditionem, 
 hostem ; ecquod nam borum civitas ab se non totis 
 viribus amolietur? faciet profecto, si possit, quamvis ab 
 ipso Deo immissa htEc esse sciat ; nisi h ccelo ipse secus 
 jusserit. Cur non tyrannos pariter amovebit, si plus 
 polleat? an ejus unius irapotcntiam ad commune ma- 
 lum esse magis a Deo credemus, quam potenliam totius 
 civitatis ad commune bonum ? Absit k civitatibus, ab- 
 sit ab omni coetu hominum ingcnuorum, doctrintc tam 
 stupidte, tamque pestiferce, labes, quoe vitam omnem 
 civilem funditus delet, gentem humanam univcrsam, 
 pro])ter unum atque alterum tyranuum, ad quadrupe- 
 dura prope conditionem detrudit : cum illi supra omnem 
 legem excelsi par in utrunque genus et pccudum et 
 hominum jus atque imperium obtincbunt. Mittojam 
 stulta ilia dilemmata, inquibusettejactes,nescio quem 
 fingis, " potestatem illam supererainentem de populo 
 Telle intelligere ;" tametsi affirmare non dubito omnem 
 magistratus autboritatem a populo proficisci. Hinc 
 Cicero pro Flacco, " Illi nostri sapientissimi et sanctis- 
 simi majores, quce scisceret plebs, quae populusjuberet, 
 juberi vetarique voluerunt." Hinc Lucius Crassus, 
 orator eximius, et scnatus eo tempore princeps, cujus 
 turn causam agebat ad populum. " Nolite," inquit, 
 *' sinere nos cuiquam servire, nisi vobis universis, qui- 
 bus et possumus et debemus." Quamvis enim scnatus 
 populum regeret, populus tamcn illam moderandi et 
 rcgendi sui potestatem senatui tradiderat. Unde 
 majestatem populo Romano frcqucntius quam regibus 
 olim attributam legimus. Idem Marcus Tullius pro 
 Plancio ; " Est enim conditio liberorum populorum, 
 prsRcipueque bujus principispopuliet omnium gentium 
 domini, posse suffragiis vel dare vel detrahere quod 
 Telit cuique; nostrum est fcrre modice populi volun- 
 tates : honores si magni non putemus, non servire 
 populo; sin eos expetamus, non dcfatigari supplicando." 
 Egone ut regem populi servum dicere mctuam, cum 
 scnatus Romanus, tot regum dominus, servum sc populi 
 professus sit ? Vera sunt hsec, inquies, in populari statu ; 
 nondum enim lex regia potestatem populi in Augus- 
 tum, et successores ejus, transtulerat. Hem tibi ergo 
 Tibcrium ilium, quem tu " tyrannum, plus vice sim- 
 plici," fuisse ais, ut revera fuit; is tamen dominus, 
 ctiam post legem illam regiam, appcllatus k quodam, 
 ut tradit Suetonius, denuntiavit ne sc ampliiis con- 
 tumelioe causa nominarct. Audisne ? tyrannus iste 
 dorainns dici contumeli(c sibi duxit. Idem in scnatu, 
 ** Dixi et nunc, et sspe alias, patres conscripti, bonum 
 
 et saiutarem principem, quem vos tanta et tam libera 
 potestatc instruxistis, senatui servire debere, ct univer- 
 sis civibus strpe, et plerunque etiam singulis ; nequc 
 id dixisse me poenitet ; et bonos et a'quos et faventes 
 vos habui dominos, et adbuc babeo." Nee simulafa 
 bocc ab eo si dixeris, ut crat simulandi callidissimus, 
 quicquam proficies ; quis enim id videri se cupit, quod 
 esse non debet ? Hinc illc mos non Neroni solum, 
 quod scribit Tacitus, sed cscteris etiam imperatoribus 
 fuit, populum in circo adorandi. Dc quo Claudianus, 
 VI. " Cons. Honorii. 
 
 O quantum populo secrcU numinis addit 
 Imperii pnesens species, quantamque rependit 
 Majestas altema vicem, cum regia circi 
 Connexum gradibus veneratur purpura Milgus, 
 Consensuque cavae sublatus in aelhera vallis 
 Plebis adorata; reheat fragor. " 
 
 Qua adoratione quid aliud imperatores Romani,nisi uni- 
 vcrsam plebem, ctiam post legem regiam, suos esse do- 
 minos fatebantur? Atque illud est, quod initio statiin 
 suspicatussum,te glossariispervolutandis, et tricis qui- 
 basdam laboriosis magnifice divulgandis, opcram potius 
 dedisse, quam bonis autboribus attcnl^ et studios^ perlc- 
 gendis; qui veterum scriptorum sapientia ne leviter qui- 
 demimbutus, rempraestantissimorumopinionibusphilo- 
 sopborum, et prudentissimorum in republica principum, 
 dictis celebratissimam, novam esse prorsus, et " enthu- 
 siastarum" tantummodo " deliriis" somniatam, censes. 
 I nunc, Martinum ilium sutorem, et Gulielmum Pcl- 
 lionem, quos adeo despicis, ignorantitc collegas et 
 mystagogos tibi sume : quanquam erudirc te poterunt 
 illi, et illos tibi gryphos dissolvere stolidissimos, " An 
 in demoeratia serviat populus, cum serviat rex in mo- 
 narcbia; utiijm totus an pars ejus?" Ita illi, cum tibi 
 Qildipi vice fuerint, tu illis Sphinx in malara rem prit- 
 ceps abcas licebit ; alioquin fatuitatum tuarum et aenig- 
 matura fincm nullum fore video. Rogas, " Cum reges 
 Apostolus nominat, an de populo eos intelligemus?" : 
 Pro regibus quidcm orandumesse Paulus docet, 1 Tim. 
 ii. 2. at prius pro populo orandum esse docuerat, " v. 1. 
 Sunt tamen et de regibus, et de populo nonnulli, pro 
 quibus orare etiam vetamur. Pro quo non orcm, eumne 
 ex lege non puniam ? quid vetat ? Atqui " cum haec 
 scriberet Paulus, imperabant vel pessimi ; " hoc etiam 
 falsuni est, scriptam enim sub Claudio et banc cpisto- 
 1am fuisse certissimis argumentis evincit Ludovicus 
 Capelhis. Dc Nerone cum mentionera facit Paulus, non 
 rcgem, sed " leonem," id est belluam imiiianem, vocat, 
 cujus ex ore ereptum se gaudet, 2 Tim. iv. Pro regibus 
 itaque, non pro belluis, " orandum, ut vitam tranquil- 
 lam et quietam transigamus, cum pietate" tamcn 
 " omni et honestate." Vides non tam regum hie quam 
 tranquillitatis, pietatis, honestatis, etiam rationera esse 
 habendam. Quis autem populus non sc suosque liberos 
 tucndo (contra tyrannum an contra bostcm nihil inte- 
 rest) vitam "sollicitam, inquietam," bellicosam, bones- 
 tam, agere, quam sub liostc vel tyranno, non solum 
 ajqud sollicitam et inquietam, sed turpera ctiam, ser- 
 vilem, et inbonestam. Teipsum testem adhibebo, non 
 quo tanti sis, sed ift perspiciant onincs quam sis duplex, 
 et fiaudulcntus, ct mancipium regis merccnarium. 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 GG9 
 
 " Quis," iuqviis, " non perferre mallet in repub. aristo- 
 cratica ex optimatura aemulatione dissensiones oriri 
 solitas, quslm ex uno monarcha, tjrannico more im- 
 perare coasueto, certam miseriam ac perniciem ? Popu- 
 liis Romanus praetulit statum ilium reipub. quantum- 
 libet dlscordiis agitatae jugo Caesarum" intolerabili. 
 Po])ulus, qui vidandee seditionis causa monarchicum 
 statum praeoptavit, ubi expertus est levius esse malum 
 quod vitare voluit, ad priorasaepe redire expetit." Haec 
 ct plura tua verba sunt in ilia de episcopis dissertatione, 
 sub Walonis Messalini adscititio nomine edita, p. 412. 
 contra Petavium Loiolitam, ciim ipse raagis Loiolita 
 sis, et eo de grege pessimus. Quid hac de re Scriptura 
 sacra statuerit, et vidimus et omni diligentia investi- 
 gasse non poenitet: unde quid senserint patres autiqui 
 per tot ingentia volumina exquirere pretium fortasse 
 operte non erit. Si quid enim afferunt, quod Scriptura 
 non cxbibuit, eorum authoritatem, quantacunque sit, 
 merito repudiamus. Quod autem ex Irenseo profers, 
 *' reges Dei jussu constitui aptos his qui in illo tempore 
 ab iis reguntur," cum Scriptura pugnat evidentissime. 
 Cum enim judices ad regendum populum suum ap- 
 tiores regibus esse palam significasset Deus, id tamen 
 totum voluntati atque arbitrio populi permisit, ut ap- 
 tiorem sibi sub optimatibus formam reipub. deteriore 
 sub regibus, si vellent, permutarent. Legimus etiam 
 sappe regera malum bono populo datum, et contra, re- 
 gem bonum populo nialo. Virorum itaque sapientis- 
 simorum est perspicere quid populo aptissimum et uti- 
 lissimum sit: constat enim ueque omni populo, neque 
 eidem scin])( r, ciindem reipub. statum convenire, sed 
 vel hunc vel ilium, prout civium virtus et industria 
 nunc augescit, nunc minuitur. Qui tamen potestatem 
 adimit populo eligendi sibi quam velit rei2)ub. formam, 
 adimit profecto id in quo civilis libertas tota fere con- 
 sistit. Citas deinde Justinum Martjrem, Antoninis 
 impcratorum optimis obsequium deferentem ; quisnam 
 iis tam egrcgiis et moderatis non detuHsset ? " At 
 quanto, inquis, nos hodie pejores Christiani ? tulerunt 
 illi principem diversae religionis." Privati scilicet, et 
 viribus longd inferiores. " Nunc sane pontificii regem 
 non ferrent reformatum," nee " reformati pontificium." 
 Facis tu quidem prudenter, ut ostendas te nee pontifi- 
 cium esse, nee reformatum ; facis ctiani liberaliter ; ultro 
 enim largiris quod nunc non petivimus, omnes bodie 
 Cbristianos in hoc plane consentire.quodtu solusinsigni 
 audacia atque scelere oppugnas, patrum etiam quos lau- 
 das dissimillimus; illi enim pro Christianis, ad profanes 
 reges, defensionis conscribebant, tu pro rege pontificio 
 atque deterrimo contra Cbristianos et Reformatos. 
 Multa deinde ex Athenagora, multa ex Tertulliano> 
 futiliter depromis, quae ab ipsis Apostolis multo clarius 
 et explanatius dicta jam sunt. Tertullianus autem 
 longissime :\ te dissentit, qui regem vis esse dominum: 
 quod tu aut nescivisti, aut nequiter dissimulasti. Is 
 enim cliristianus ad imperatorem ethnicura in Apolo- 
 getico ausus est scribere, non oportere imperatorem 
 appellari dominum. "Augustus," inquit, " imperii for- 
 mator, nc dominum quidem dici se volcbat, hoc enim 
 Dei est cognomen : dicam plane imperatorem domi- 
 num ; sed quando non cogor ut dominum Dei vice di- 
 
 cam : caeterum liber sum illi, Dominus meus Deus 
 unus est," &c.; et ibidem "qui pater patriae est, quo- 
 modo dominus est.^" Gratulare nunc tibi de TertuUi- 
 ano, quem sane praestabat missum fecisse. " At parri- 
 cidas appellat qui Domitianum interfecerunt.'' Recte 
 appellat; uxoris enim et famulorum insidiis, aParthe- 
 nio, et Stephano interceptarum pecuniarum reo, est 
 interfectus. Quod si senatus populusque Romanus 
 hostem judicatum, ut Neronem prius judicabant, et ad 
 supplicium qucerebant, more majorum punivissent, eos 
 parricidas appellaturum fuisse censes ? immo si ap- 
 pellasset, dignus ipse supplicio fuisset; uti tu furca 
 jam dignus es. Origeni responsum idem quadrabit 
 quod Irenteo. Athanasius reges terrse ad humaua tri- 
 bunalia vocare nefarium esse dicit. Quis hoc dixit 
 Athanasio ? verbum enim Dei nullum hie audio. Cre- 
 dam itaque ego imperatoribus potius et regibus, de 
 se falsum hoc esse fatentibus, quam Athanasio. Ad- 
 fers deinde Ambrosium ex proconsule et catechumeno 
 episcopum, verba ilia Davidis, " tibi soli peccavi," im- 
 perite, ne dicam assentatori^, interpretantem. Volebat 
 is omnes alios imperatori subjectos esse, ut imperato- 
 rem ipse subjiceret sibi. Quam enim superbe, et fastu 
 plusquam pontificio, Theodosium imperatorem Medio- 
 lani tractaverit, coedisThessalonicensis reum ipse judi- 
 caverit, ingressu ecclesite prohibuerit, quam se deinde 
 novitium et rudem evangelicce doctrince ostenderit, 
 omnibus notum est. Imperatorem ad pedes ejus pro- 
 volutum excedere salutatorio jussit ; sacris tandem 
 restitntum, etpostquara obtulisset, altari adstantem his 
 vocibus extra cancellos exegit. " imperator, inte- 
 riora loca tantiim sacerdotibus sunt attributa, quaj ca2- 
 teris contingere non licet." Doctorne hie evangelii, 
 an Judai'corum pontifcxrituum fuit .'' Hie tamen (quse 
 omnium fere ecclesiasticorum artes sunt) imperatorem 
 ctetcris dominum imposuit, ut imperatoris ipse domi- 
 nus esset. His itaque verbis Theodosium tanquam 
 sibi subjectum repulit; " Coaequalium hominum es 
 imperator et conservorum ; unus enim omnium domi- 
 nus rex et Creator." Belle profecto ; quam veritatein 
 calliditas et assentatio episcoporum obscuravit, earn 
 iracundia unius, et ut molliiis dicam, zelus ineruditus, 
 protulitin lucem. Ambrosii imperitiae tuam subjungis 
 ignorantiam aut hoeresin, qui disert^ negas " sub ve- 
 teri fcedere remissionem peccatorum per sanguinem 
 Christi locum tunc habuisse, cum David Deo confite- 
 batur ei soli se peccavisse." p. 68. Orthodoxi, non 
 nisi per sanguinem agni mactati ab initio mundi, pec- 
 cata unquam remissa fuisse credunt; te novum haere- 
 ticum cujusnara discipulus sis nescio ; certe sumrai 
 Theologi discipulus ille, quem exagitas, a vero non 
 aberravit, cum dixit potuisse quemvis d populo pari 
 jure cum Davide Deum his verbis inclamasse, " tibi 
 soli peccavi." Augustinum deinde ostentas; clericos 
 Hipponenses nescio quos producis; nam Augustini 
 quee sunt abs te allata nobis non obsunt. Quidni enim 
 fateamur cum prophcta Daniele, Deum tempora mu- 
 tare, regna dare, et regna auferre, per homines tamen. 
 Si regnum Deus solus Carolo dedit, idem Carolo abstu- 
 lit, optimatibus et populo dedit. Si ea de causa praestan- 
 dam Carolo obedientiam fuisse dicis, eandem nunc 
 
670 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 magistratibiis nostris prcestandam esse dicas necesse est. 
 Nam Deuni et nostris etiam ma<^istratibus eandem de- 
 disse potestatem, quam dat malis reg-ibiis " ad casti- 
 ganda populi peccata," ipse coiicedis ; nostros itaque 
 a Deo pariter constitutos removcre a niagistratu nemo, 
 Tel tuo judicio, nisi Deus potest. Atque ita, uti soles, 
 tuum tibi ipse mucronem in temet vertis, tuus tibi 
 ipse sicarius es; neque injuria, cum eo improbi- 
 tatis et impudeutiae proccsseris, eo stuporis et in- 
 sania?, ut quos digito violandos non esse tot argumen- 
 tis probas, eosdem omnium suorum bello persequendos 
 esse idem aifirmcs. Ismaclcm, Godoliac pra>fecti in- 
 terfectorem, ab Hicronymo parricidam esse nomina- 
 tnni ais, et merito ; pnesidem enim Judtpae, virum bo- 
 nuro, sine ulla causa interemit. Idem Hieronymus in 
 Ecclesiastcn, pneceptum illud Solomonis, " Os regis 
 observa," cum praecepto Pauli concordare dixit; et 
 laudandus quidem, quod locum istum ceeteris sui tem- 
 poris moderatius exposuit. " Ad inferiora tempora post 
 Augustinum non descendes, ut doctorum sententiam 
 exquiras." Ut omnes tamen intelligant f'acilius racntiri 
 te posse quam taeere, si quos adhuc haberes tuae sen- 
 tentiae fautores, post unam statim period um non tem- 
 peras tibi, quo minus ad Hispalensem Isidorum, Gre- 
 gorium Turonensem Ottonem, Frinsingensem etiam in 
 mediam barbariem, descendas. Quorum authoritas 
 quam nullius apud nos pretii sit si modo scivisses, non 
 hue eorum obscurum testimonium per mendacium ad- 
 duxisses. Vultis scire cur ad haec tempora descendere 
 non audet, cur abdit se, cur subito evanescit .'' dicam : 
 quot sunt Ecclesice Reformatse pra?stantissimi doctores, 
 tot videt acerrimos sibi adversarios fore. Faciat modo 
 periculum, sentiet quam facile reluctantem, omnes in 
 unum vires conferentem, Lutheris, Zuingliis, Calvinis, 
 Buceris, Martyribus, Parseis, in aciem eductis fundam 
 atque obruam. Leidenses etiam tuos tibi opponam, 
 quorum academia, quorum respub. florentissima, liber- 
 tatis olim domicilium, isti denique literarum humani- 
 orum fontes atque rivi, servilem illam eeruginem tuam, 
 et innatam barbariem, eluere non potuerunt. Qui cum 
 theologum orthodoxum habeas neminem tibi faventem, 
 quem tuo commodo nominare possis, omnium praesidio 
 reformatorum nudatus, confugere ad Sorbonam non 
 erubescis : quod tu collegium doctrinoe pontificiae ad- 
 dictissimum nullius apud orthodoxos autboritatis esse 
 non ignoras. Sorbonae igitur absorbendum tam scele- 
 ratum tyrannidis propugnatorem tradimus ; tam vile 
 niancipium nostrum esse nolumus ; qui " populum 
 universum reg^ ignavissimo parem esse" negat. Frus- 
 tra id in papam deonerare atque transferre contendis, 
 quod omnes liberae nationes, omnis religio, omnes 
 orthodoxi, sibi sumunt, in se suscipiunt. Papa quidem 
 cum episcopis suis, dura tenuis et nullarum virium 
 crat, tua? hujus foedissimee doctrinee author primus ex- 
 titit : iis demiim artibus magnas opes, magnamque 
 potentiam, paulatim adeptus, tyrannorum ipse maximus 
 evasit. Quos tamen omnes sibi firmissime devinxit, 
 cum populis, quorum animos jamdiu superstitione op- 
 presses tcnuerat, suadcret, non posse regibus quamlibet 
 pcssimis, nisi se fidelitatis sacramcntum solvente, im- 
 perium abrogari. Veriim tu scriptores orthodoxos de- 
 
 vitas, et qu(e communis et notissima ipsofum sententia 
 est, cam a papa introductani esse causatus, veritatcm 
 in invidiam rapere conaris. Quod nisi astute faccres, 
 appareret te neque papanum esse neque reforroatum, 
 sed nescio quem semibarbarum Edomacum Herodi- 
 anum, qui tyrannum quemquc immanissimum, tanquam 
 Afessiam coelo demissum, colas atque adores. " De- 
 nionstrasse te" hoc dicis " ex doctrina patrum, pri- 
 morum quatuor sceculorum, quce sola evangelica ct 
 Christiana censeri debet." Periit huic homini pudor ; 
 quam multa sunt ab iliis dicta atque scripta, quce Chris- 
 tus et Apostoli neque docuerunt neque approbarunt ? 
 quam multa in quibus reformati omnes k patribus dis- 
 senliunt ? Quid autcm ex patribus dcnionstravisti P 
 " reges etiam malos a Deo constitui." Fac esse con- 
 stitutos, ut omnia etiam mala quodammodo i Deo con- 
 stituuntur: " eos proindc Deum solum habere judiccm, 
 supra leges esse, nulla lege scripta, non scripta, naturali, 
 neque divina, posse reos fieri sL subditis, neque apud 
 subditos suos." Quare ? ccrte nulla lex vetat, nulla 
 reges excipit : ratio, et jus, et fas omne, animadverti in 
 omnes qui peccant indiscriminatim jubet. Neque tu 
 legem ullam scriptara, non scriptam, naturalem, aut 
 divinam, protulisti qute vetaret. Cur ergo non in 
 reges quoque animadvertendum ? " quia sunt etiam 
 raali a Deo constituti." Nebulonem te magis an bar- 
 dum et caudicemesse dicam ? nequissimus sis oportet, 
 qui doctrinam perniciosissimam in valgus disseminare 
 audeas, stupidissimus, qui ratioue tam stolida maxirae 
 nitaris. Dixit Deus, Isaise 54. " Ego creavi inter- 
 fectorem ad perdendum;" ergo interfector supra leges 
 est; excute htec, et pervolve quantum voles, parem 
 utrobique consequentiam invenies. Nam et papa 
 etiam eodem modo, quo tyrannus, a Deo est consti- 
 tutus, et ecclesise in poenam datus, quod supra ex 
 scriptis etiam tuis ostendimus; tamen " quia in fas- 
 tigium potestatis non ferendum, tyrannidi non ab- 
 similis, primatum suum evexit, cum eum, turn episco- 
 pos, meliori jure tollendos esse" affirmas " qtiani fuere 
 constituti." Wal. Mes. p. 412. Papam et episcopos, 
 quamvis ab irato Deo constitutos, ex ecclesia tollendos 
 esse ais, quia sunt tyranni ; tyrannos ex repub. tollen- 
 dos esse negas quia sunt ab irato Deo constituti. Inept^ 
 prorsus et absurde : cum enim papa ipsam conscien- 
 tiam, quoe sola regnum ejus est, invito quoquam loedere 
 non possit, eum, qui revera tyrannus esse non potest, 
 quasi tyrannum gravissimum tollendum esse clamas ; 
 tyrannum autem verum, quivitam et facultates nostras 
 omnes in potestate sua habet, et sine quo papa in ec- 
 clesia tyrannus esse nequit, eum in repub. omnino fe- 
 rendum esse contendis. Haec tua sibi invicem collata 
 tam imperitum te tamque puerilem sive falsi sive veri 
 argutatorem produnt, ut levitas tua, inscitia, temeri- 
 tas, incogitantia, neminem posthac latere queat. At 
 ratio subest altera, " rerum vices inversae vidcrentur," 
 quippe in melius; actum enim esset de rebus humanis, 
 si quce res pessimo loco sunt, in eodem semper sta- 
 rent : in melius inquam ; authoritas enim rcgia ad po- 
 pulum rediret, ab cujus voluntatc atque sufFragiis pro- 
 fecta primo, atque in unum ex suo numero derivata 
 crat: potestas ab eo qui injuriam intulit, ad eum qui 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLIC A NO DEFENSIO. 
 
 671 
 
 injuriam est passus, aequissima leg^e transiret; cum 
 tertius nemo inter homines idoneus esse possit, alieni- 
 I genam enim judicare quis ferret? onines aeque homines 
 legibus tenerentur, quo nihil justius esse potest: deus 
 mortalis nemo esset. Quem qui inter homines consti- 
 tuit, non minus in rempub. scelestus est, quam in ec- 
 clesiam. Tuis iterum in te armis utar. " Maximam 
 haeresin esse" a"is"qua creditor unura hominem in loco 
 Christi sedere: dua; hae notse antichristura signant, 
 infallibilitas in spiritualibus, et oiiinipotentia in tem- 
 poralibus," Apparat. ad Priraat. p. 171. An reges in- 
 fallibiles? Cur ergo omnipotentes ? aut si hoc sunt, 
 cur minus exitiales rebus civilibus quam papa spiritu- 
 alibus ? An vero Deus res civiles prorsus non curat ? 
 si non curat, certe nos curare non prohibet ; si curat, 
 eandem in republica reformationem atque in ecclesia 
 vult fieri ; pra;scrtim si infallibilitatem et omnipoten- 
 tiam attributam homini easdem malorum omnium 
 utrinque causas esse exploratum sit. Non enim in 
 negotiis civilibus earn patientiam praecepit, ut saevissi- 
 mum quemlibet tyrannum respublica ferret, ecclesia 
 non ferret ; immo contrarium potius prtecepit : et ec- 
 clesiae quidem nulla arma praeter patientiam, innocen- 
 tiam, preces, et disciplinam evangelicam, reliquit; 
 reipublicae et magistratibus simul omnibus non pati- 
 entiam, sed leges et gladium, injuriarum et violentise 
 vindicem, in manus tradidit. Unde hujus hominis 
 perversum et praeposterum ingenium aut mirari subit 
 autridere; qui in ecclesia Helvidius est et Thraseas 
 et plane tyrannicida ; in republica commune omnium 
 tyrannorum mancipium et satelles. Cujus sententia si 
 locum habeat, non nos solum rebellavimus, qui regem, 
 sed reformati etiam omnes, qui papam dominum invitis 
 regibus, rejecerunt. Jamdiu autem est quod suis ipse 
 telis concisus jacet. Sic enim homo est, modo manus 
 adversarii ne desit, ipse in se tela abund6 suppeditat : 
 nee quisquam ad rcfutandum se, aut irridcndum, com- 
 modiores ansas ministrat. Defessus etiam csedendo 
 citius quis abscdat, quam hie terga prcebendo. 
 
 CAPUT IV. 
 
 Magnam a regibus iniisse te gratiam, omnes prin- 
 cipes et terrarum dominos demeruisse, defensione hac 
 regia te forte putas, Salmasi, ciim illi, si bona sua, 
 remque suam, ex veritate potius quam ex adulationi- 
 bus tuis velient cestimare, neminem te pejus odisse, 
 neminem a se longius abigere atque arcere, debeant. 
 Dum enim regiam potestatem supra leges in immen- 
 sum extollis, admones eadem opera omnes fer^ popu- 
 los servitutis sute nee opinatoe ; eoque vehementius im- 
 pellis ut veternum ilium, quo se esse liberes inaniter 
 somniabant, repente excutiant ; moniti abs te, quod 
 non putabant, servos se esse regum. Eoque minus 
 tolerandum sibi esse regium imperium existimabunt, 
 quo niagis tu iis persuasum reddideris tam infinitam 
 potestatem non sua patientia crevisse, sed ab initio ta- 
 lera atque tantam ipso jure regio natam fuisse. Ita 
 
 te, tuamque banc defensionem, sive populo persuase- 
 ris, sive non persuaseris, omnibus posthac regibus fu- 
 nestam, exitialem, et execrabilem, fore necesse erit. 
 Si enim populo persuaseris, jus regium omnipotens 
 esse, regnum amplius non feret; si non persuaseris, non 
 feret reges, dominationem tuam injustam pro jure 
 usurpantes. Me si audiant, quibus integrum hoc est, 
 seque circumscribi legibus patiantur, pro incerto, im- 
 becillo, violento, imperio quod nunc habent, curarum 
 atque formidinum pleno, firmissimum, pacatissimum, 
 ac diutumum, sibi conservabunt. Consilium hoc sibi, 
 suisque regnis, adeo salutiferum si propter authorem 
 contempserint, sciant non tam esse meum, quam regis 
 olim sapientissimi. Lycurgus enim Spartanorum rex, 
 antiqua regum stirpe oriundus, cum propinquos videret 
 suos Argis et Messente rerumpotitos, regnum quemque 
 suum in tyrannidem convertisse,sibiquepariter suisque 
 civitatibus exitio fuisse, ut patriae simul saluti consule- 
 ret, et dignitatem in familia sua regiam quam diutissime 
 conservaret, consortem imperii senatum, et ephororum 
 potestatem in ipsum regem quasi censoriam, firma- 
 mentura regno suo, indixit. Quo facto regnum suis 
 nepotibus firmissimum in multa secula transmisit. Sive, 
 ut alii volunt, Theopompi, qui centum amplius annis 
 post Lycurgum Lacedaemone regnabat, ea moderatio 
 fuit, ut popularem ephororum potestatem superiorem 
 quam suam constitueret, eoque facto gloriatus est sta- 
 bilivisse se regnum, multoque majus ac diuturnius filiis 
 reliquisse ; exemplum profecto baud ignobile hodierni 
 reges ad iraitandum habuerint, eundem etiam consilii 
 tutissimi authorem egregium. Majorem enim legibus 
 dominum, ut perferrent homines hominem omnes 
 nnum, nulla lex unquam sanxit; ne potuit quidem 
 sancire. Quee enim lex leges omnes evertit, ipsa lex 
 esse non potest. Ciim itaque eversorem te, et parrici- 
 dam legum omnium, rejiciant ab se leges, exemplis 
 redintegrare certamen, hoc capite, conaris. Faciamus 
 itaque periculum in exemplis: saepe enim, quod leges 
 tacent, et tacendo tantum innuunt, id exempla eviden- 
 tius docent. Ab Judaeis auspicabimur, voluntatis di- 
 vinse consultissimis ; " postea ad Christianos" tecum 
 " descendemus." Initium autem altiiis petitum ab eo 
 tempore faciemus, quo Israelitse, regibus quocunque 
 modo subjecti, jugum illud servile cervicibus dejecerunt. 
 Rex Moabitarum Eglon Israelitas hello subegerat; 
 sedem imperii inter ipsos Hierichunte posuerat : nu- 
 minis contemptor non erat, facta enim Dei mentione, ^ 
 solio surrexit : servierant Israelitae Egloni annos duo- 
 deviginti ; non ut hosti, sed ut suo regi, munus mise- 
 rant. Hunc tamen dum publico munerantur ut regem 
 suum, interficiunt per insidias ut hostem. Veriim 
 Ehudes, qui interfecit, Dei monitu id fecisse creditur. 
 Quid factum hujusmodi commendare magis potuit .f" 
 Ad honesta enim quaeque et lauda<bilia hortari solet 
 Deus, non ad injusta, iiifida, truculenta. Expressum 
 autem Dei mandatum habuisse nusquam legimus, 
 " clamarunt filii Israelis ad Jehovam ;" clamavimus et 
 nos : excitavit iis Jehova servatorem ; excitavit et no- 
 bis. lUe ex vicino domesticus, ex hoste rex, factus 
 erat ; noster ex rege hostis : non ergo rex erat ; nam 
 neque civis uUo modo esse potest, qui reipublicte est 
 
872 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 hostls ; neque consul babebatur Antonius, nequc Nero 
 imperator, ex quo utcrquc hostis k senatu est judicatus. 
 Quod Cicero quarta Philippica dc Antonio clarissime 
 docet : " Si consul Antonius, Brutus hostis ; si conser- 
 rator reipublicte Brutus, bostis Antonius. Quis ilium 
 consulem, nisi latrones, putant?" Pari ego jure, quis 
 tjrannum, inquani, regem, nisi bostcs patrise, putant ? 
 Fuerit itaque Eglou cxtemus, fuerit nostcr domcsticus 
 necnc, quandoquidem uterquc bostis et tyrannus, pa- 
 rum rcfert. Si ilium Ehudes jure trucidavit, nos nos- 
 trum supplicio jure afTecimus. Quin et bcros ille Samp- 
 son, incusantibus etiara popularibus suis, (Jud. 15.) 
 " An nesciebas Phelisthteos dominium babcre in nos ?" 
 suis tamcn dominis bellum solus intulit, ncquc unum scd 
 multos simul patrite sues tyrannos, sive Dei, sire pro- 
 prise virtutis instinctu, occidit ; conceptis priiis ad Deum 
 precibus ut auxilio sibi essct. Non impium ergo sed 
 pium Sampsoni visum est, dominos, patriae tyrannos 
 occidere; cum tamen pars major civiura servitutem non 
 detrectaret. At Darid, rex et propbeta, noluit Saulcm 
 interimere " unctum Dei." Non quicquid noluit 
 David, continue nos oblig'at ut nolimus ; noluit David 
 privatus ; id statim nolle synedrium, parlamentum, 
 totum populum, nccesse erit ? noluit inimicum dolo 
 occidere, nolet ergo magistratus noxium lege punire ? 
 noluit regem occidere, timebit ergo senatus tyrannum 
 plectere ? religio erat ilU unctum Dei interficere, an 
 erg^ religio erit populo unctum suum capitis damnare.'* 
 praesertim qui uuctionem illam, relsacram vel civilem, 
 totus cruore civium delibutus, tarn longa bostilitate 
 aboleverat .•* Equidem reges, vel quos Deus per pro- 
 pbetas unxit, vel quos ad certum opus, sicuti olim Cy- 
 rum, nominatim destinavit, Isa. 44. unctos Domini 
 agnosco ; caeteros vel populi, vel militum, vel factionis 
 tantummodo suae, unctos esse arbitror. Verura ut con- 
 cedam tibi omnes reges esse unctos Domini ; esse ta- 
 mcn idcirco supra leges, non esse ob scelera qusecunque 
 puniendos, nunquam evinces. Quidenim.'* et sibi et 
 privatis quibusdam interdixit David, ne ex'tenderent 
 manus suas in unctum Domini. At regibus interdixit 
 ipse Dominus, Psal. 105. ne attingerent unctos suos, 
 id est, populum suum. Unctionem sui populi proetulit 
 unctioni, siqua erat, regnm. An ergo fideles punire, si 
 quid contra leges commiserint, non licebit ? Unctum 
 Domini sacerdotem, Abiatharem, prope erat ut rex So- 
 lomon morte multaret; neque illi, quod unctos Domini 
 esset, pepercit, sed quod patris fuerat amicus. Si ergo 
 summum sacerdotem, summum eundem in plerisque 
 magistratum, unctio ilia Domini, et sacra et civilis, ex- 
 imere supplicio non potuit, cur unctio tantum civilis ty- 
 rannum eximeret? At " Saul quoque tyrannus erat, et 
 morte di gnus ;" esto : non inde enim sequetur, dignum 
 aut idoneum fuisse Davidem, qui sine populi autbori- 
 tate, autmagistratuumjussu, Saulem regem quocunque 
 in loco interGceret. Itane vero Saul tyrannus erat. •• 
 Utinam diceres ; quinimmo dicis ; ciim tamen supra 
 dixeris, cap. 2. pag. 32. " Tyrannum non fuisse, sed 
 bonum et electum." Ecquid causte est nunc cur in 
 foro quadruplator aut falsarius quispiam stigmate note- 
 tur, tu eadem careas ignominite nota .'' ciim meliori 
 profccto fide sycopbautari solcant illi, quam tu scriberc, 
 
 ct res vel maximi momcnti tractarc. Saul igitur, si id 
 ex usu est tuo, bonus erat rex; sin id minus tibi ex- 
 pedit, repent)]; non rex bonus, scd tyrannus erit; quod 
 ccrte mirum non est; dum cnira potcutiae tyrannicac 
 tam impudentcr leuociuaris, quid aliud facis quam ex 
 bonis regibus tyrannos omncs. At vero David, quam- 
 vis regem socerum multis de causis, qute ad nos nihil 
 attincnt, interimere nollet, sui tamen tuendi causa co- 
 pias comparare, Saulis urbes vel occupare vel insiderc, 
 non dubitavit ; et Cbeilam oppidum contra Saulem ctiam 
 praesidio tenuisset, nisi oppidanos erga se male anima- 
 tos cognovisset. Quid si Saul, urbe obsessa, scalis 
 muro admotis, primus asccndere voluisset, an censes 
 Davidem arnia protinus abjecturum, suos omnes 
 uncto bosti proditurum fuisse ? non existimo. Quidni 
 enim fecisset quod nos fccimus, qui, rationum suarum 
 necessitate coactus, Phelisthaeis patriae hostibus ope- 
 ram prolix^ suam poUicitus, id fecit contra Saulcm, 
 quod nos in nostrum tyrannum credo nunquam fe- 
 cisscmus? Pudet me, et jam diu perttesum est, men- J 
 daciorum tuorum ; " Inimicis potius parcendum quam^ 
 amicis," Anglorum esse dogma fingis ; " sequc regi 
 suo parcere non debuisse, quia amicus erat." Quis 
 unquam hoc prius audivit, quam a te confictum esset, 
 honiinum mendacissime ? Verum ignoscimus : deerat 
 nempe huic capiti praestantissimum illud et tritissimum 
 orationis ture pigraentum, jam quinto, et ante finem 
 libri decies, ex loculis tuis et myrotheciis expromen- 
 dum, " molossis suis ferociores." Non tam Angli suis 
 molossis ferociores sunt, quam tu cane quovis rabida 
 jejunior, qui ad illam, quam toties evomuisti, crarabeil' 
 duns ilibus identidera redire sustines. David denique 
 Amalechitam interfici jussit, Saulis, ut siraulavit ipse, 
 interfectoreni ; nulla hie neque facti neque personarum 
 similitude. Quod nisi David ad Phelisthaeos defecisse, 
 et pars eorum exercitus fuisse visus, eo diligeutius^ 
 omnem a se suspicionem raaturandae regi necis amovere 
 studuit, non erat, meo quidem judicio, cur virum ilium 
 tam male exciperet, qui moribundum jam regem, et 
 acgre morientem, opportuno vulnere se confecisse 
 nuntiavit. Quod idem factum in Domitiano, qui 
 Epaphroditum similiter capite damnavit, eo quod 
 Neronem in adipiscenda morte adjuvisset, ab omnibus 
 rcprehenditur. Nova deinde audacia quem tyrannum 
 modo dixeras, et " malo spiritu agitatum," hunc non 
 jam satis habes unctum Domini, sed " Christum Do- J 
 mini"vocare; adeo tibi vile Christi nomen videtur, utl 
 illo tam sancto nomine vel daemoniacuui tyrannum im- 
 pertire non metuas. Venio nunc ad cxemplum illud, in 
 quo, qui jus populi jure regis antiquius esse non videt, 
 ctecus sit oportet. Mortuo Solomone, populus de con- 
 stituendo ejus filio Sechemi comitia babebat ; profectus 
 est eo Roboamus candidatus, ne regnum tanquam bcere- 
 ditatem adire, ne populum liberura tanquam pateruos 
 boves possidere, videretur: proponit populus condi- 
 tiones regni futuri; ad deliberandum rex triduum sibi 
 dari postulat; cousulit seniores; nihil illi dc jure re- 
 gio, sed ut populum obsequio et pollicitationibus con- 
 ciliet sibi, suadent, pen^ quem erat, vel ilium creare 
 regem vel proeterire. Consulit deinde scquales suos, 
 sccum a pueris educatos; illi, Salmasiano quodam 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 673 
 
 oestro perciti, nil proeter jus reg-ium intonare, scuticas 
 et scorpiones ut minitctur hortari. Ilorum ex consilio 
 respondit Roboamus populo. Videiis itaque totus 
 Israel regem " non auscultasse sibi," suam protinus 
 libertatein et populare jus liberis palam vocibus testa- 
 tur. " Quae nobis portio cum Davidc ? ad tentoria tua, 
 Israel; jam ipse videris de domo tua, David." Missum 
 dcinde a rege Adoramum lapidibus obruerunt ; exem- 
 plum fortasse aliquod etiam in regem edituri, nisi 
 maxima celeritate se in fugam contulisset. Parat in- 
 gentem exercitum, quo in suam ditionem Israelitas re- 
 digerct : probibet Deus ; " ne ascendite," inquit, " nc 
 pugnate contra fratres vestros, filios Israelis, nam a me 
 facta est res ista." Adverte jam animum ; populus an- 
 tea regem volebat, displicuit id Deo; eorum tamen 
 juri noluit intercedere : nunc populus Roboamum non 
 vult regem, id Deus non solum pentis populum esse 
 sinit, scd regem eo nomine bella moventem vetat ac 
 reprimit: ncc ideo rebelles, sed nihilo minus fratres, 
 cos qui desciverant appellandos esse docet. Collige te 
 nunc jam ; sunt omncs, inquis, rcges a Deo, ergo 
 populus vel tjrannis resistere non debet. Vicissim 
 ego, sunt, inquam, populi conventus, comltia, studia, 
 suflVagia, plebiscita paritcr a Deo, teste hie ipso ; ergo 
 et rex ilidem resistere non debet populo, authorc etiam 
 codem Deo. Quam enim certum est, esse hodie rcges 
 a Deo, quamque hoc valet ad imperandam populo obe- 
 dicntiam, tam est certam esse a Deo etiam hodie libera 
 populi cojicilia, tamque hoc valet vel ad cogendos in 
 ordincm reges, vel ad rcjiciendos; ncque magis prop- 
 terea bellum populo inferre dcbebunt, quam debuit 
 Roboamus. Quaris cur ergo non defeccrint Israelite 
 d Solonione? quis prsetcr te tam stulta interrogaret, 
 ciim defecisse constet impun^ a tyranno? In tia 
 quaedam lapsus est Solomon ; non idcirco statim ty- 
 rannus : sua vitia magnis virtutibus, magnisdc repub. 
 meritis, compensabat: fac tyrannum fuissc; s«?pc est 
 ut populus nolit tyrannum tollere, stepe est ut non 
 possit : satis est sustulissc cum potuerit. At " factum 
 Jeroboami semper improbatum fuit, et apostasia ejus 
 detestata, successores ejus pro rebellibus semper habi- 
 ti." Apostasiam ejus non a Roboamo, sed a vero cultu 
 Dei, rcprchensam stepius lego ; et successores quidem 
 ejus stepe reprobos, rebelles nusquam, dictos memini. 
 " Si quid fiat," inquis, "juri et legibus contrariura, ex 
 eo jus fieri non potest." Quid quteso tum fiet juri re- 
 gio ? Sic tuus ipse pcrpetuo refutatores. " Quotidie," 
 inquis, " adulteria, honiicidia, furta, impuue commit- 
 tuntur." An nescis nunc te tibi respondere quterenti 
 cur toties tyrannis impune fuerit ? " Rebelles fuerunt 
 isti reges, prophette tamen populum ab eorum subjec- 
 tione non abducebant." Cur ergo, sceleste, et pseudo- 
 propheta, populum Anglicanum k suis magistratibus, 
 tuo sint licet judicio rebelles, abducere conaris.'' " Al- 
 legat," inquis, " Auglicani latrociuii factio, se ad id 
 scelus, quod tam nefarie suscepit, nescio qua voce coe- 
 litiis missa impulsos fuisse." Primiim delirasse te ciim 
 haec scriberes plane video, neque mentis neque latini- 
 tatis compotem satis fuisse : deinde Anglos hoc un- 
 quam allcgasse, de innumeris mendaciis ct figroentis 
 tuis est uuum. Sed pergo exemplis tecum agere; 
 
 Libna, urbs validissima, ab Joramo rege defecit, quia 
 dereliquerat Deum ; defecit ergo rex, non urbs ilia, 
 neque defectione ista uotatur; sed si adjectam ratio- 
 nem spectes, approbari potiiis videtur. " In exemplum 
 trahi non debent hujusmodi defectiones." Cur ergo 
 tanta vaniloquentia pollicituses, exemplis te nobiscum 
 toto hoc capite decertaturum, cum exempla ipse nulla 
 prtEter meras negationes, quarum nulla vis est ad 
 probandum, aflferre possis : nos quae certa et solida at- 
 tulimus, negas in exemplum trahi debere.^ Quis te 
 hoc modo disputantem non explodat? Provocasti 
 nos exemplis ; exempla protulimus ; quid tu ad haec ? 
 tergiversaris, et diverticula quaeris; pregredior itaque. 
 Jehu regem a propheta jussus occidit, etiam Achaziam 
 suum regem legitimum occidendum curavit. Si noluis- 
 set Deus tyrannum interimi a civc, si impium hoc, si 
 mali exempli fuisset, cur jussit fieri ? si jussit, certelici- 
 tum, laudabile, praeclarum fuit. Non tamen tyrannum 
 perimi, quia Deus jussit, idcirco bonum erat et licitum, 
 sed quia bonum et licitum erat, idcirco Deus jussit. Jam 
 septem annos regnantem Athaliam Jehoiada sacerdos 
 regno pellere et trucidare non est veritus. "At regnum," 
 inquis, " non sibi dcbitum sumpserat." Annon Tibe- 
 rius niulto postea " imperium ad se nihil pertinens?" 
 illi tamen, et id genus tyrannis aliis, ex doctrina Christi 
 obediendum esse supra aflirmabas : ridiculum plaud 
 esset, si potestatem regiara non rite adeptum interficere 
 liceret, pessime gerentem non liceret. At per leges reg- 
 nare non potuit utpote fnemina, " constitues autem supra 
 te regem," non reginam. Hoc si sic abibit, constitues, 
 inquam, super te regem, non tyrannum. Pares ergu 
 jam sumus. Amaziam regem ignavum et idololatrum 
 non conjurati quidam, sed priucipes et populus, quod 
 verisimiliusest,morteaffecerunt: nam fugientem Hiero- 
 solymis, et adjutum a nemine, Lachisum usque perse- 
 cuti sunt. Hoc consilium iniissc dicuntur " ex quo is 
 Deum" deseruerat, neque ullam ab Azaria filio de 
 morte patHs quai'stionem habitam fuisse legimus. Mul- 
 tiim rursus nugaris ex rabbinis, ut regem Judaicum 
 supra synedriura constituas ; ipsa regis verba Zedechite 
 non attendis, Jer. 38. " Non is est rex, qui possit con- 
 tra vos quicquam." Sic principes alloquitur ; fassus se 
 plan6 suo senatu inferiorem ; " Fortasse," inquis, " ni- 
 hil negare illis ausus metu seditionis." At tuum illud 
 " fortasse " quanti quaeso est, cujus asseveratio firmis- 
 sima non est pili .'' quid ertim te levius, quid inconstan- 
 tius, quid instabilius ? quoties te varium et versicolorem, 
 quoties tibimet discordem, dissidentem a temetipso, et 
 discrepantem, offendiraus? Rursus comparationes in- 
 stituis Caroli cum bonis Judcese regibus. Davidem 
 imprimis quasi contemnendum aliquem nominas ; 
 " Sume tibi Davidem," inquis, " adulterii simul et ho- 
 micidii reum ; nihil tale in Carolo. Solomon ejus 
 filius qui sapiens audiit vulgo." Quis non indignetur 
 maximorum ct sanctissimorum virorum nomina ab im- 
 purissimo nebulone et vappa hunc in modum jactari? 
 Tune Carolum cum Davide, regem et prophetam reli- 
 giosissimum cum superstitioso et Christianas doctrinse 
 vix iuitiato, sapientissimum cum stolido, fortissimum 
 cum imbelli, justissimum cum iniquissimo, conferre sus- 
 tinuisti ? castimoniam tu ejus et continentiam laudes, 
 
674 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLIC ANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 quern cum Duce Bucchingamio flagitiis omnibus co- 
 opertum noviraus? secretiora ejus et recessus perscru- 
 tari quid attinct, qui iu tbeatro mcdias mulicrcs petu- 
 lantcr ampKcti, ct suaviari, qui virginum et matrona- 
 rum papillas, uc dicam caetera, pertractare in propatulo, 
 consueverat ? Te porro moneo, Pseudoplutarclie, ut 
 istiusmudi parallclis ineptissimis dehinc supersedeas, 
 ne ego qua; tacerem alioqui libeus de Carolo, neeesse 
 babeam enuntiare. Contra tyraunos quid tentatum a 
 populo aut peractum fuerit, et quo jure, per ea tempora 
 quibus ipse Deus Hcbreeorum rempub. suo nutu ac 
 verbo quasi prsescns regebat, bactenus liquet. Quae 
 sequuntur (rtates non nos sua autboritate ducunt, sed, 
 ad majorura suorum normam et rationeni omnia diri- 
 gentes, imitationc sua nostram tautummodo confirmant. 
 Citm itaque Deus post captivitatem Babylonicam nul- 
 lum iis de repub. mandatum dedisset novum, quamvis 
 regia soboles extincta non esset, ad antiquam et Mo- 
 saicam reipub. formam reverterunt. Antiocho Syriee 
 regi, cui erant vectigales, ejusque praesidibus, quod is 
 vetita imperaret, per Maccabceos pontifices restiterunt ; 
 seque armis in libertatem vindicarunt ; dignissirao 
 deinde cuique principatum dederunt : donee Hyrcanus 
 Simonis Judoe Maccabaci fratris filius, expilato Davidis 
 sepulcro, militem externum alere, et regiam quandam 
 potestatem adjicere sacerdotio, coepit ; unde filius ejus 
 Aristobulus diadema sibi primus imposuit. Nihil in 
 eum populus quamvis tyranuum movit aut molitus est; 
 Beque mirum, annum tantummodo regnantem. Ipse 
 etiam morbo gravissimo correptus, et suorum facinorum 
 poenitentia ductus, mortem sibi optare non destitit, donee 
 inter ea vota expiravit. Ejus frater Alexander proxi- 
 mus regnabat. " Contra hunc," ais, " neminem in- 
 surrexisse," tyrannus cum esset. O te secure menda- 
 cem, si periisset Josephus, restaret tantum Josippus 
 tuus, ex quo pbarisiEorum queedam nuUius usus apo- 
 phtbegmata depromis. Res itaque sic se habet; Alex- 
 ander, cum et domi et militiee rempub. male adminis- 
 traret, quamvis magna Pisidarum et Cilicum manu 
 conductitia se tutaretur, populum tamen cofaibere non 
 potuit, quin ipsum etiam sacrificantem, utpote indig- 
 num CO munere, tbyrsis palmeis et citreis pen^ obrue- 
 ret ; ezinde per sexennium gentis fere totius gravi 
 bello petitus est; in quo Judeeorum multa millia ciim 
 occidisset, et pacis tandem cupidus interrogaret eos 
 quid vellent a se fieri, responderunt uno ore omnes, 
 ut moreretur ; vix etiam niortuo se veniam daturos. 
 Hanc bistoriam, tibi incommodissimam, quoquo modo 
 avertere ut posses, fraudi tuse turpissimee pharisai'cas 
 quasdam sententiolas obtendisti; cum exemplum hoc 
 aut omnino preetermisisse, aut rem, sicuti gesta erat, 
 fideliter narrasse, debuisses, nisi veterator et lucifugus 
 mendaciis longe plus quam causae confideres. Quin- 
 etiam Phariseei illi octingenti, quos in crucem tolli 
 jussit, ex eorum numero erant, qui contra ipsum arma 
 ceperant : quique omnes cum cseteris una voce testati 
 sunt, se regem morte affecturos fuisse,si bello victus in 
 suam potestatem venisset. Post maritum Alexandrum 
 Alexandra reguum capessit ; ut olim Atbalia, non le- 
 gitime, nam regnare foeminara leges non sinebant, quod 
 ipse modo fassus es, sed partim vi, (extraneorum enim 
 
 cxercitum ducebat,) partim gratia; nam PhariscP' 
 qui apud vulgus plurimum potcrant, sibi conciliavi: 
 bac lege, ut nomen imperii penes illam,impcriuni ipsum 
 penes illos, foret. Hand aliter atque apud nos nupei 
 Scoti presbyteri nomen Regis Carolo concesserunt, ea 
 mercede ut regnum sibi reservare posscnt. Post Alex- 
 andra; obitum, Hyrcanus ct Aristobulus ejus filii de 
 regno contend unt ; hie, viribus et industria potior, fra- 
 trem natu majorem regno pellit. Pompeio deinde in 
 Syrian! u Mithridatico bello divertente, Judoei nactos 
 se jam ^quissimura libertatis susc arbitrum Pompeium 
 rati, legationem pro se mittunt; fratribus utrisque re- 
 gibus renuntiant ; ad servitutem se ab iis adductos 
 queruntur; Pompeius Aristobulum regno privavit ; 
 Hyrcano pontificatum reliquit, ct principatum more 
 patrio legitimum ; exinde pontifex et ethnarcha dictus 
 est. Itcrum sub Archelao Herodis filio Judeei, missis 
 ad Augustum Ccesarem quinquaginta legatis, et He- 
 rodem mortuum et Archeliium graviter accusurunt; 
 regnum huic pro sua virili parte abrogarunt, Caesarem 
 orant ut populum Juda'icum sine regibus esse pcrrait- 
 teret. Quorum Ccesar precibus aliquantum permotus, 
 non regem eum, sed etbnarcham duntaxat, constituit. 
 Ejus anno decimo, rursus eum populus per legatos ad 
 Csesarem tyrannidis accusat ; quibus CoBsar bcnigne 
 auditis, Romam accersitum, et judicio damnatura, Vi- 
 ennam in exilium misit. Jam niihi velim respondeas; 
 qui suos reges accusatos, qui damnatos, qui punitos 
 volebant, annon ipsi, si potestas facta, si optio data sibi 
 esset, annon ipsi, inquam, judicio damuassent, ipsi 
 supplicio affecissent .'' Jam in Romanos prsesides, avare 
 et crudeliter provinciam administrantes, populum et 
 primores etiam sffpius arma sumpsisse non negas ; 
 causas more tuo stultissimas affingis, " nondum Jul 
 erant assueti ;" sub Alexandro scilicet, Herode, ejusqi 
 filiis. At C. Csesari, et Petronio " bellum inferrc " 
 noluerunt. Prudenter illi quidem, non poterant. Vis 
 ipsorum audire verba ? TroXt^tlv fiiv ov finXofitvoi Sia to 
 Hr\S' av IvvaaOai. Quod ipsi fatentur imbecillitatis esse 
 suae, hoc tu hypocrita ad religionem refers. Magno 
 dein molimine prorsus nihil agis, dum ex patribus 
 probas, quod et antea tamen pari oscitatione*feccrn<, 
 pro regibus orandum esse. Nam pro bonis quis neg;i 
 pro malis quoad spes est; pro latrouibus etiam et ])H) 
 bostibus; non ut agros depopulentur, aut nos occisione 
 occidant, sed ut resipiscant. Oramus pro utrisqiii 
 illos tamen legibus, hos armis, vindicare quis vetai 
 " Liturgias .Slgyptiacas" nil moror; sacerdos auteiu 
 ille qui orabat, uti ais, ut " Commodus patri succede- 
 ret," meo quidem judicio non orabat, sed Romano ini- 
 perio pessima imprecatus est. " Fidem," ais, " frc- 
 gisse nos, de authoritate et majestate regis conservanda 
 solenni conventione non seniel interpositam." Expecto 
 te fusiiis ista de re infra, illic te rursus convcniani. 
 Redis ad patrum commentationes, de quibus hoc suin- 
 matimaccipe; Quicquid illi dixerint, neque ex libris 
 sacris, aut ratione aliqua satis idonea confirmaveriiit, 
 perinde mihi erit, ac si quis alius h vulgo dixiss^ 
 Primum adfers Tertullianum, scriptorem baud ortli 
 doxum, multis erroribus notatum, ut si tecum st 
 tiret, pro nihilo tamcu hoc esset. Quid autcm ilk 
 
PRO POPULO AXGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 675 
 
 damnat tumultus, damnat rcbclliones; damnamus et 
 nos, Tieqiie hinc statim de jure omni populorum, de 
 privilejifiis, et snatiis consultis, de potestate magis- 
 tratuum omnium coeterorum prseterquam unius regis, 
 prfpjudicatum esse volumus : loquuntur isti de se- 
 ditionibus temere conflatis, et multitudinis insania, 
 non de mag-istratibus, non de senatu, aut paria- 
 mento ad legitima arma populum contra tvrannos 
 convocante. Unde Ambrosius quem citas, " Non re- 
 pugnare,flere, gemere, htec sunt munimcnta sacerdotis; 
 et quis est qui potest vel unus vel inter paucos dicere 
 imperatori, Lex tuaniihi non probatur? non permittitur 
 hoc dicere sacerdotibus; permitteturlai'cis?" Vides jam 
 plane de quibus hie loquatur de sacerdotibus, de laicis 
 privatis, non de magistratibus: vides quara infirmata- 
 men ctprjepostera ratione usus,dissentioni inter laicos et 
 sacerdotes, de legibus etiani civilibus, postmodiim futurte 
 faccm praetiilit. Sed quoniam primorumChristianorum 
 exemplis urgeri nos maxime,et redargui, putas,qu6d illi 
 omnibus modis vexati "bellum in Caesares non move- 
 rent," ostendam primononpotuisse, deindequoticspote- 
 rant movissc, postremo etiamsi ciim possentnon movis- 
 sent, non esse tamen cfeteroquidignos, quorum ex vita 
 et moribus, tantis in rebus, cxcmpla sumamus. Primum 
 ignorare hoc nemo potest, ex quo Romana respublica 
 uulla fuit, omnes imperii vires rerumque summam ad 
 unum Cacsarem rediisse ; omnes legiones sub uno Cte- 
 sare stipendia meruisse : adeo ut senatus ad unum 
 oninis, totus ordo cquestcr, plcbs universa, si novis re- 
 bus studuissct, poterant se quideni intemecioni obje- 
 cissc, ad libertatem tamen recuperandam nihil prorsus 
 effecissent ; nam imperatorem si fort^ sustulissent, im- 
 perium tamen mansisset. Jam vero Christiani, innu- 
 meri licet, at sparsi, inermcs, pleucii et plorunque 
 infinii, quid potucrunt ? quantam eorum multitudincm 
 una legio in officio facile continuissct ? Quod magni 
 sa^pe duces cum interitu suo, et veteranorum exerci- 
 tuum deletione, incassum tentarunt, isti is plebecula 
 (er^ homuli posse se ad exitum perducere sperarent? 
 cum annis a Christo nato prope trecentis, ante Con- 
 stantinuni plus minus viginti, imperante Diocletiano, 
 sola Thebaea legio Christiana esset ; eoque ipso no- 
 mine k reliquo exercitu in Gallia, ad Octodurum oppi- 
 dum, coesa est. " Cum Cassio, cum Albino, cum Ni- 
 gro" non conjurarunt: idne illis gratioe vult apponi 
 Tertullianus, quod sanguinem pro infidelibus non pro- 
 fuderunt ? Constat igitur Christianos ab imperato- 
 riim imperio liberare se non potuisse : cum aliis con- 
 jurare non Christianis nequaquam sibi expedivisse, 
 quamdiu imperatores ethnici rcgnabant. Bellum au- 
 tem tyrannis postea intulisse Christianos aut armis se 
 defendisse, aut tj'rannorum facta nefaria stepe ultos 
 esse, nunc ostendam. Primus omnium Constantinus, 
 jamChristianus, consortem imperii Licinium, Orienta- 
 libus Christianis gravem, hello sustulit; quo facto illud 
 simul declaravit, posse a magistratu in magistratum 
 animadverti ; cum is Licinium pari jure secuni reg- 
 nantem, subditorum ejus causa, supplicio affecerit, nee 
 Deo soli poenam reliquerit : poterat enim Licinius 
 Constantinum, si Constantinus populum sibi attribu- 
 tum iis modis oppressisset, eodcm supplicio affccissc. 
 2 X 
 
 Postquam igitur a Deo ad homines redacta res est, 
 quod Licinio Constantinus erat, cur non idem Carolo 
 senatus.? Constantinum enim milites, senatum jura 
 constitueruiit regibus pareni, ininio superiorem. Con- 
 stantio imperatori Ariajio Byzantini, quoad poterant, 
 armis restiterunt; niissum cum niilitibus Hermoge- 
 nem, ad pellendum ecclesia Paulum orthodoxum epis- 
 copum, facto impetu repuleruntj et incensis redibus, 
 quo se receperat, semiustuni et laniatum interfecerunt. 
 Constans fratri Constantio bellum minatur, ni Paulo 
 et Athanasio episcopis sedes suas restituat; videsne ut 
 istos sanctissimos patres, de episcopatu cum ao-itur, 
 bellum fraternum in regem suum concitare non pu- 
 duit.? Haud multo post Christiani milites, qui tunc 
 temporis quos volebant imperatores creabant, Constan- 
 tem Constantini filium, dissolut«' et superb^ regnan- 
 tem, interfecerunt, translato ad Magncntium imperio. 
 Quid ? qui Julianum nondum apostatam, sed pium et 
 strenuum, invito Constantio imperatore suo, imperato- 
 rem salutarunt, annon ex illis Christianis fuenint, 
 quos tu exemplo nobis projionis ? Quod factum Con- 
 stantius cum suis literis ad populum recitatis acriter 
 prohiberet, clamarunt omnes, fecisse se ut provincialis, 
 et miles, et reipublicoe authoritas, decreverat. lideni 
 bellum Constantio indixerunt, et, quantum in se erat, 
 imperio ac vita spoliarunt. Quid Antiocheni, homines 
 apprimti Christiani? orurunt, credo, pro Juliano jam 
 apostata, quem palam adire, et convitiis proscindore, 
 solebant, cujus barbam illudcntes promissam, funcs ex 
 ea conficere jubebant. Cujus niorte audita, supplica- 
 tiones, epulas, et Itetiliam, public^ indixerunt, ejus 
 pro vita et incolumitatc preces fudisse censes.? Quid .? 
 quod eundem ctiam d Christiano commilitone interfec- 
 tum esse fcrunt. Sozomenus certfi scriptor ccclesiasticus 
 non negat; immo, siquis ita fecisset, laudnt. ov yap 
 dirtiKog Ttva rdv Tore rpanvof^tvuv, Scc. " Non est 
 mirum," inquit, " aliquem ex niilitibus hoc secum co- 
 gitasse; non Gropcos solum, sed omnes homines ad banc 
 usque optatem tyrannicidas laudare solitos esse, qui 
 pro omnium libcrtate mortem oppetere non dubitant; 
 nee temere quis hunc militem reprehendat, Dei et reli- 
 gionis causa tam strenuum." Hiec Sozomenus, ejus- 
 dem aetatis scriptor, vir bonus et sanctus ; ex quo, quid 
 reliqui ea tempestate viri boni hac de re senserint, fa- 
 cile perspicimus. Ipse Ambrosius ab imperatore Valen- 
 tiniano niinorc jussus urbe Mediolano excedete, parcro. 
 noluit, sed circumseptus armato populo se, atque basili- 
 cam suam, contra regios prsefectos armis defendit; et 
 sumnia; potestati resistere, contra quam docuit ipse, est 
 ausus. Constantinopoli haud semel, propter exilium 
 Chrvsostomi, contra Arcadium imperatorem seditio 
 maxima commota est. In tyrannos igitur quid antiqui 
 Christiani fecerint, non milites solum, sed populus, sed 
 ipsi patres, vel resistendo, vel gerendo bellum, vel con- 
 citando, usque ad Augustini tempora, quoniam tibi 
 ulterius progredi non libet, breviter exposui. Valen- 
 tinianum enim Placidia; filium interfectum a Maximo 
 patricio, ob stuprum uxori ejus illatum, taceo: Avitum 
 etiam imperatorem, dimissis militibus suis, luxuria 
 diffluentem a senatu Romano confestim exutum impe- 
 rio non memoro : quia finnos aliquot post Augustini 
 
676 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 obitum ista accidenint. Venim doiio tibi hoc omne, tu 
 nihil horuni exposuisse mc fiiig'e, parueriiit per omnia 
 suis regibus veteres Christiani, quicquam contra tyran- 
 nos ne fecerint, aut fecisse volucrint, non esse tamen eos 
 quorum authoritatc niti dobeamus, aut a qtiibus cxem- 
 p]a petere salutariter possimus; quod superest, nunc 
 docebo. Jamdiu ante Constantinum populus Chris- 
 tianus multum de primiFva ilia sanctimonia ct since- 
 ritate cum doctrinse tum niorum deperdiderat. Post- 
 quam immcnsis opibus ditata ab oo ccclesia honores, 
 dominatum, et potentiam civilcm, adamare coepit, sta- 
 tim omnia in praeceps ruere. Prirao luxus et segnities, 
 errorum dcinde omnium ct vitiorum caterva, veluti so- 
 lutis aliunde carceribus, in ecclesiam immigravit ; bine 
 inridentia, odium, discordia, passim rednndabat; tan- 
 dem baud mitius inter se charissimo relig'ionis vinculo 
 fratres quam hostes acerrimi dissidebant ; nullus pudor, 
 nulla officii ratio, restabat; milites, et copiarum prte- 
 fecti, quoties ipsis visum erat, nunc imperatores novos 
 creabant, nunc bonos pariter ac malos necabant. Quid 
 Vetranniones et Maximos, quid Eugenios, a niilitibus 
 ad imperium subito evectos, quid Gratianum optimum 
 principem,quidValentinianum minorem non pessimum, 
 occisos ab iis, conimemorem ? Militum htec quidem 
 facinora et castrensium, sed tamen Christianorum illius 
 a!tatis, quam tu maxim^ evang'elicam et imitandam 
 esse ais. Jam ergo de ecclesiasticis pauca accipe : pas- 
 tores et episcopi, et nonnunquam illi, quos admiramur, 
 patres, sui quisque gregis ductores, de episcopatu non 
 secus quam de tjrannide certabant : nunc per urbem, 
 nunc in ipsa ecclesia, ad ipsum altare, sacerdotes et laici 
 promiscue digladiabantur ; coedcs faciebant, strages 
 utrinque magnas nonnunquam ediderunt. Damasi et 
 Ursicini, qui cum Ambrosio floruerunt, potest memi- 
 nisse. Longum esset Bjzantinos, Antiochenos, et 
 Alexandrinos, illos tumultus, sub Cyrillo praesertim, 
 quern tu laudas obedientise preedicatorem, dnce ac pa- 
 tre ; occiso peene a monachis, in illo urbico praelio, 
 Oreste Theodosii prsefecto. Jam tua quis vel impu- 
 dentia vel supinitate non obstupescat ? " Usque ad 
 Augustinum," inquis, " et infra ejus tetatem, nulla cu- 
 jusquam privati aut praefecti, aut plurium conjuratorum 
 extat in historiis raentio, qui regem suum necaverint, 
 aut contra eum armis pugnarint : " nominari ego ex 
 historiis notissimis et privatos, et proceres, qui non 
 malos tantiim, sed vel optimos reges, sua manu truci- 
 daverint; totos Christianorum exercitus, multos cum 
 iis episcopos, qui contra suos imperatores pugnaverint. 
 Adfers patres, obedieiitiam erga regem, multis verbis 
 aut suadentes aut ostentantes ; adfero ego partim 
 eosdem, partim alios patres baud paucioribus factis 
 obedientiam, etiam licitis in rebus, detrectantes, armis 
 86 contra imperatorem defendentes, alios preesidibus 
 ejus vim et vulnera inferentes, alios, episcopatus com- 
 petitores, civilibus prceliis inter se dimicantes; scilicet 
 de episcopatu Christianos cum Christianis, cives cum 
 civibus, confligere fas erat, de libertate, de liberis et 
 conjugibus, de vita, cum tyranno, nefas. Quem non 
 pceniteat hujusmodi patrum ? Augustinum inducis "de 
 potestate domini in servos, et regis in subditos " idem 
 pronuntiantem ; respondeo, ista si dicat Augustinus, ea 
 
 diccre, qutr ncquc Christus, ncque ejus Apostoli, un- 
 quam dixerunt; cum eorum tamen sola autboritate rem 
 alioqui apcrtissinie falsam commendare videatur. Qua? 
 supersunt hujus capitis tres vel quatuor pagina-, aut 
 mera esse mendacia, aut oscitationes identidcm repe- 
 titas, ex iis quee u nobis rcsponsa jam sunt, per se 
 quisque dcprchendet. Nam ad papam quod attinet, in 
 quem niulta gratis pcroras, facile te patior ad ravini 
 usque declamitarc. Quod tamen ad captandos rcrum 
 imperitos tam prolixe adstruis, " regibus, sive justis 
 sive tyrannis, subjectum fuisse omnem Cbristianum, 
 donee potestas papae regali major agnosci coepta est, et 
 subjectos Sacramento fidciitatis liberavit," id esse fal- 
 sissimum plurimis exeraplis " et usque ad Augustinum, 
 et infra ejus aetatem," prolatis demonstravimus. Sed, 
 neque illud, quod postremo dicis, " Zacbariam pon- 
 tificeni Gallos juramento fidelitatis absolvisse," multd 
 verius esse videtur. Negat Franciscus Hotomanus, e< 
 Gallus, et jurisconsultus, et vir doctissimus, in Franco- 
 gallia sua, cap. 13. abdicatum autboritate papse Cbil« 
 pericum, aut regnum Pipino delatum ; sed in magna 
 gentis concilio pro sua pristina autboritate transactui 
 fuisse id omne negotium, ex annalibus Francorui 
 vetustissimis probat. Solvi deinde illo sacrament© 
 Gallos omnino opus fuisse, negant ipsa Gallorum 
 raonumenta, negat ipse papa Zacharias. Monumentis 
 enim Francorum traditur, teste non solum Hotomano, 
 sed Girardo historiarum illius gentis notissimo scrip- 
 tore, veteres Francos ut eligendi, sic abdicandi, si vide- 
 retur, suos reges jus sibi omne antiquitus reservasse ; 
 neque aliud sacraraentum regibus, quos creabant, dicerel 
 consuevisse, quam se illis hoc pacto fidem et officium] 
 praestituros, si vicissini illi, quod eodem tempore jurati< 
 etiam spondent, proestiterint. Si ergo reg'es, renipub- 
 licam sibi commissam male gerendo, fidem jusjurandi 
 fregerint priores, nil opus est papa, ipsi sua perfidia 
 populum Sacramento solverunt. Papa denique Zacha- 
 rias, quam tu authoritatem sibi ais arrogasse, earn in 
 epistolailla ad Francos abs te citata ipse sibi derogavit, 
 populo attribuit. Nam " si princeps populo, cujus 
 beneficio regnum possidet, obnoxius est, si plebs regem 
 constituit, et destituere potest," quce ipsius verba sunt 
 papae, verisimile non est voluisse Francos de antiquo 
 jure suo, ullo postmodiim jurejurando, proyudiciui 
 facere; aut unquam ita sese obstrinxisse, quin senipei 
 sibi liceret, quod majoribus suis licuit, reges bona 
 quidem colere, malos amovere; nee eam pnestan 
 fidem tyrannis, quam bonis regibus dare sese arbitrat 
 sunt. Tali obstrictum juramento populum, vel tyran- 
 nus ex rege factus, vel ignavia corruptus, suo ipse per- 
 jurio solvit, solvit ipsa justitia, solvit naturae lex ipsa; 
 unde pontifex qirod solveret, etiam ipsius pontificil 
 judicio nihil prorsus erat. 
 
 CAPUT V. 
 
 QuANQUAM in ea sum opinione, Salmasi, semperque 
 fui, legem Dei cum lege naturae optim^ conscntire, 
 adeoque, si satis ostendi quid divina lege sit de regibus 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLIC A NO DEFENSIO. 
 
 677 
 
 statutum, quid a populo Dei factum et Judaico et 
 Christiano, ostendisse me, eodem tempore eademque 
 opera, quid lej^i naturali maxim^ consentaneum sit; 
 tameu quia " confutari nos leg'e naturae validissim^ 
 nunc posse" arbitraris, quod supervacuum esse modo 
 existimabani, id nunc ultro necessarium fatebor ; ut 
 contra te boc capite planum faciam, nihil congruentius 
 naturae etiam legibus esse, quam tjrannos plecti. Id 
 nisi evincam, non recuso quin, Dei quoque leoribuspu- 
 nirinon posse, e vestigio tibi concedam. Non est con- 
 silium de natura jam, deque origine civilis vitoe, longam 
 orationem contexere ; istud enim argumentum viri di- 
 sertissimi cum Grteci, turn Latini, copiose pertractarunt; 
 ipse et brevitati, quantum licet, studeo, et huic rei do 
 operam, ut non tarn ego, qui labori huic parcissem 
 libens, scd tute te redarguas, teque subvertas. Ab eo 
 igitur quod ipse ponis Incipiam, et disputationis hujus 
 futuriE fundamenta jaciam. " Lex," inquis, " naturae 
 est ratio omnium hominum mentibus insita, bonum 
 respiciens universorum populorum, quatenus homines 
 inter se societate gaudent. Bonum illud commune 
 non potest procurare, nisi etiam, ut sunt quos regi 
 necesse est, disponat quoque qui regere debeant." 
 Ne scilicet, ut quisque fortior est, dcbiliorem opprimat; 
 atque itaquos mutua salus ac defensio unum in locum 
 congregaverat, vis atque injuria distrahat, et ad vitam 
 agrestcm redire cogat. Estne hoc quod volcbas, etsi 
 rerbosius ? " Ex ipsorum" itaquc " numero qui in 
 unum convenere, dcligi" ais " oportuisse quosdam sa- 
 pientia aut fortitudine cseteris praestantes, qui vel vi 
 vel pcrsuadendo male morigeros in officio continerent; 
 seepe unum id pr;estare potuisse, cujus excellens sit 
 virtus et prudentia ; interdum plures, qui mutuis con- 
 siliis id faciant. Cteterum cum unus omnia providere 
 et administrare non possit, necesse est ut consilia cum 
 pluribus participet, et in societatem regiminis alios 
 admittat. Ita sive ad unum revocetur imperium, sive 
 ad universum redcat populum, quia nee omnes simul 
 rempub. gubernare possunt, nee unus omnia, ideo re- 
 vera penc^s plures semper regimen consistit." Et in- 
 fra. " Ipsa autem regendi ratio, sive per plures, sive 
 per pauciores, sive per unum, dispensetur, reque na- 
 turalis est, cum ex naturee ejusdem principiis descen- 
 dat, quje non patitur ita unius singularitatem guber- 
 nare, ut non alios socios imperandi habeat." Hce cum 
 ex Aristotelis tertio poHticorum decerpsisse potueram, 
 malui abs te decerpta transcribere, quae tu Aristoteli, 
 ut ignem Jovi Prometheus, ad eversionem monarcha- 
 rum, et perniciem ipsius tuam, surripuisti. Jam enim 
 prolatam a temetipso naturae legem excute quantum 
 voles; nullum juri regio, prout tu jus illud explicas, 
 in natura locum, nullum ejus vestigium, prorsus iuve- 
 nies. " Lex," inquis, " naturae, cum disponeret qui 
 regere alios deberent, universorum populorum bonum 
 respexit." Non igitur unius, non monarchae. Est 
 itaque rex propter populum : populus ergo rege potior 
 et superior; superior cum sit et potior populus, nullum 
 jus regis existcre potest, quo populum is affligat, aut in 
 servitute habeat, inferior superiorem. Jus male faci- 
 endi cum sit regi nullum, manet jus populi natura 
 suprenuim ; ut quo jure homines consilia et vires mu- 
 
 tuse defensionis gratia, ante reges creatos, primo con- 
 sociavere, quo jure ad communera omnium salutem, 
 pacem, libertatem, conservandam unum vel plures 
 coeteris proefecerunt, eodem jure, quos propter virtutem 
 et prudentiam cacteris proeposuerant, possent eosdem 
 aut quoscunque alios rempub. male gerentes, propter 
 ignaviam, stultitiam, improbitatem, perfidiam, vel 
 coercere vel abdicare : ciam natura non unius vel pau- 
 corum imperium, sed universorum salutem, respexerit 
 semper et respiciat. Jam vero populus quosnara dele- 
 git ? " sapientia" inquis " aut fortitudine caeteris prsE- 
 stantes," nempe qui natura maxime regno idonei visi 
 sunt, "cujus excellens virtus, et prudentia praestare id" 
 muneris " potuit." Jus igitur successionis natura nul- 
 lum, nullus natursL rex, nisi qui sapientia et fortitudine 
 caeteris omnibus pnecellit : cseteri vel vi, vel factione, 
 contra naturara reges sunt, cum servi potivis esse debe- 
 rent. Dat enim natura sapientissimo cuique in minus 
 sapientes imperium, non viro malo in bonos, non sto- 
 lido in sapientes : his igitur imperium qui abrogant, 
 omnino convenienter naturae faciunt. Cui fini sapien- 
 tissimum quemque natura constituat regem, ex temet- 
 ipso audi ; ut vel naturae vel legibus " male morigeros 
 in officio contineat." Continere autem in officio po- 
 testne is alios, officium qui negligit, aut nescit, aut 
 pervertit, ipse suum .'' Cedo jam quodvis naturae prae- 
 ceptum, quo jubeamur instituta naturae sapientissima 
 in rebus publicis et civilibus non observare, non cu- 
 rare, pro nihilo habere, cum ipsa in rebus naturalibus 
 et inanimatis, ne suo fine frustretur, saepissime res 
 magnas atque miras efficere soleat. Ostende ullam 
 vel naturae vel naturalis justitiae regulam, qua opor- 
 teat rcos minores puniri, reges et malorum omnium 
 principes impunitos esse, immo inter maxima flagitia 
 coli, adorari, et Deo proximos haberi. Concedis " ip- 
 sam regendi rationem, sive per plures, sive per pau- 
 ciores, sive per unum, dispensetur, aeque naturalem 
 esse." Non est ergo rex vel optimatibus vel populi 
 niagistratibus natura sanctior, quos ciim punire posse 
 ac debere, si peccant, supra sis largitus, idem de regi- 
 bus, eidem fini ac bono constitiitis, fateare necesse est. 
 " Non" enim "patitur natura," inquis, " ita unius sin- 
 gularitatem gubernare, ut non alios socios imperandi 
 habeat." Minime ergo patitur monarcham, minime 
 unum ita impcrare, ut caeteros omnes sui unius im- 
 perii servos habeat. Socios autem imperandi qui 
 tribuis regi, " penes quos semper regimen consistat" 
 das eidem collegas, et sequales ; addis qui punire, addis 
 qui abdicare possint. Ita, uti semper facis, dum po- 
 testatem regiam non jam exauges, sed tantummo- 
 do natura constituis, aboles : adeo ut nihil putem 
 inauspicatius accidere regibus potuisse, quam tc de- 
 fensorem. O infelicem ac miserum ! quae tc mentis 
 caligo in banc impulit fraudem, ut latentem antehac 
 diu, et quasi personatum, improbitatem atque inscitiam 
 tuam nunc tanto conatu insciens nudares ipse, et om- 
 nibus patefaceres: tuoquemet opprobrio operam ipse 
 tuam locares, tuo ipse ludibriotam gnaviter inservires? 
 Quae te ira nu minis quasve poenas luentem, in lucem 
 et ora hominum evocavit, ut tanto apparatu causam 
 teten-imam impudentissime simul et stolidissime de- 
 
078 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 feuderes, atquc ita dereiidcndo iiivitus, perquc inscitiam, 
 proderes? Quis te pejus perdituni vellet, quis miseri- 
 orem ? cui jam sola iinprudentia, sola vaecordia, saliiti 
 esse potest, ne sis niiscrrimus, si tyrannos, quorum 
 causam suscepisti, impcrita ac stulta defcnsioiie taiitu 
 inagis iuvisos ac detestabiles omnibus, contra quum 
 t.])crabas, reddideris, quanto iis roajorem malefacicndi 
 ct hnpim^ dominandi licentiam de industria attribucris ; 
 eoque plurcs eorundem bostes inconsulto cxcitavcris. 
 Scd rcdco ad tua tecum dissidia. Cum tantum in tc 
 scelus admiscris, ut tyranuidom nattira fundare studeas, 
 pne coeteris jfubernandi rationibiis moiiarcbiam prirao 
 laudandam tibi esse vidisti ; id, uti soles, incfpptarc 
 sine rcpugnantia nequis. Cum enim niodo dixcras, 
 " ipsam regendi rationem, sive per plures, sive per 
 pauciores,sive per unum, opque naturalem esse," statim 
 " earn, qute per unum exercctur, ex bis tribus, magis 
 naturalem esse" ais, immo qui eliam recens dixcras, 
 " nou patitur natura uniussingularitatem gubernantis." 
 Jam tyrannorum necem objice cui voles, qui et mon- 
 archas omnes, et monarchiam ipsam, tua fatuitate 
 jugulasti. Verum qute sit melior admiuistrandi rem- 
 pub. ratio, per unum an per plures, nou est nunc dis- 
 -screndi locus. Et monarcbiam quidera multi celebres 
 viri laudarunt, si tamen is, qui solus regnat, vir om- 
 nium optimus, et regno dignissimus, sit ; id nisi con- 
 tingat, uiliil monarcbia proclivius in cam tyrannidem, 
 quae pessima est, labitur. Jam quod ad unius " exem- 
 plar Dei cx])ressam esse " dicis, quis potentiam divinte 
 similem in terris obtinere dignus est, nisi qui, caetero- 
 rum omnium longe prsestantissimus, etiam bonitate ac 
 sapientia est Deo simillimus ; is autem solus, mea qui- 
 dem scntentia, expectatus ille Dei filius est. Quod 
 regnum in familiam rursus contrudis, ut patrifamilias 
 regem assimiles, pater cert^ suae familite regnum me- 
 retur, quam omnem vel generavit, vel alit : in rege 
 liibil est bujusmodi, sed plane contra sunt omnia- 
 Animalia deinde nobis gregalia, imprimis " avcs," et 
 in iis " apes," siquidem te pbysiologo avcs istse sunt, 
 imitandas proponis. " Apes regem habent." Triden- 
 tinee scilicet, annon mcministi .'* cseterarum, te teste, 
 " rcspub. est." Verum tu desine de apibus fatuari ; 
 musarum sunt, oderunt te scarabseum, et, ut vides, re- 
 darguunt. " Coturnices sub ortygometra." Istos 
 onocrotalis tuistende laqueos; nos tam stolido aucupio 
 non capimur. Atqui jam tua res agitur, non nostra. 
 " Gallus gallinaceus," inquis, " tam maribus qu^m 
 freminis imperitat." Qui potest hoc fieri .'* Cum tu 
 ipse gallus, et, ut ferunt, vel nimium gallinaceus, non 
 tusc gallime, sed ilia tibi iniperitet, et in te regnum ex- 
 erceat : si gallinaceus ergo plurium fceminarum rex est, 
 tu gallinoe mancipium tuoe, non gallinaceum te, sed 
 stercorarium quendam esse gallum, oportet. Pro libris 
 cert6 nemo tc majora edit stcrquilinia, et gallicinio tuo 
 •stercorco omnes obtundis; hoc unicum galli gallinacei 
 babes. Jam ego multa iiordei grana daturuni me tibi 
 promitto, si, totum hoc vertcndo sterquilinium tuum, 
 vel unam mihi gemmam ostendoris. Sed quid ego tilii 
 hordeum ? qui non hordcum, ut ^Esopicus ille, simplex 
 et frugi gallus, scd aurum, ut Plautinus ille nequam, 
 kcalpturicndo quicsisti ; quamvis exitu adliuc dispari ; 
 
 tu enim centum Jacobtcos auroos inde rcperisti, cum 
 Euclionis fuste potiiis, quo misellus ille Plautinus, ob- 
 truncari dignior sis. Sed pcrgendum est. " Eadem 
 utilitatis et incolumitatis omnium ratio naturalis pos- 
 tulut, ut qui semcl ad gubernandum con.stitutus est, 
 conservetur." Quis negat, quatenus ejus conscrvatio 
 cum incolumitate omnium consistit P ad pernicicm 
 autem omnium conservari unum, quis non videt 
 alienissimum a natura esse ? At " malum etiam re- 
 gem conservari, immo pcssimum " omnino vis, " eo 
 quod non tantum mali civitati procurat mal^ guber- 
 nando, quantum creatur cladium ex seditionibus, qnte 
 ad eum tollendum suscitantur." Quid hoc ad jus 
 rogum naturale ? An, si natura me monet, ut latro-i' 
 nibus diiipiendum rae permittam, ut captum me totia: 
 facultatibus redimam potius, quam ut dimicare de vita' 
 cogar; latronum tu inde jus naturale constitues ? Sua- 
 det natura populo, ut t^'rannorum violentiae nonnun- 
 quara cedat, ccdat temporibus ; tu ista populi necessi- 
 tate ac patientia jus etiam naturale tyrannorum funda- 
 bis ."^ Quod ilia jus populo sui conservandi causa dedit, 
 tu illam tyranno, perdendi populi causa, jus idem de- 
 disse affirmabis? Docet natura, ex duobus malis eligeu- 
 dum esse minus; ct quandiu necesse est tolerandum: 
 an tu bine tyranno, utpote minori fortasse interdum 
 malo, jus impune malefacicndi exoriri naturale statues? 
 Recordare saltem ea, qute jam pridem ipse de episcopis 
 conira Loiolitam scripsisti, a me supra tertio capite re- 
 citata his plane contraria ; lUic " sediticnes, disseu- 
 tiones, discordias optimatium et populi, longo levius 
 esse malum," afHrmas, " quam sub uno monarcha ty- 
 ranno certam miseriam ac perniciem." Et vera tu 
 quidem affirniabas; nondum enim insaniebas, nondum 
 Carolinis Jacobeeis delinitus et deauratus in morbum 
 regium incideras. Diceram fortasse, nisi is esses qui 
 es, pudeat te tandem praevaricationis tuae turpissimse ; 
 tibi vero dirurapi facilius est quam erubescere, qui, ut 
 rem faceres, pudorem jamdiu amisisti. Annon ipse 
 memineras Romanos florentissimam et gloriosissimam 
 rempub. post exactos reges babuisse? potuit fieri ut 
 Batavorum obliviscere ? quorum respub. Hispaniarui 
 rcge pulso post bella diutina, feliciter tamen gesta, li- 
 bcrtatem fortiter et gloriose consequuta est, tequc 
 granimaticastrum equitem stipendio alit suo, non ut 
 juventus Batavica te praevaricatorc et sopbista tann, 
 nihil sapere discat, ut ad servitutem Hispanicam redira 
 mallet, quam patemee libertatis ac gloriae hocres esse i, 
 istam doctrinse pestem ad Ripha;os ultimos, et glacia- 
 lem oceanum, quo te in malam rem abire par est, tecum 
 auferas licebit: Exemplo deuique sunt Augli, qui Ca- 
 rolum tyrannum hello captum, et insanabilcm, obtrun- 
 carunt. At " insulam beatam sub rcgibus, et luxu 
 affluentem, discordiis deformarunt." Immo luxu pend 
 perditam, quo tolerantior servitutis esset, extiuctis 
 deinde legibus, et mancipata religionc, servientem libe- 
 rarunt. En autem Epicteti cum Simplicio editorcra,; 
 Stoicum gravissimum, cui " luxu afflucns insula" bcata; 
 esse vidctur! Ex porticu Zenonis ntinquam tale, sat 
 scio.documentumprodiit. Quid refert, ante doctorcquic- 
 quid libet rcgibus licebit, tibi ipsi non licebit lupi do- 
 mino ex lu])anari tuo, tanquamcx novo quodam lyceo, 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 679 
 
 quamcunqiie libet emittere philosopbiain ? Sed resume 
 nunc quam suscepisti personam. " Nuuquam sub ullo 
 rege tantum cruoris baustum est, tot familio; desolatse;" 
 Hoc totum Carolo imputandum est, non Anglis; qui 
 exercitum Hibernicorum prius in nos paraverat, omnes 
 Hibernos conjurare contra Anglos suo ipse diplomate 
 jusserat; per illos ducena circiter millia Anglorum 
 una in provincia Ultonia occiderat; de reliquis nihil 
 dico : binos exercitus in exitium parlamenti Anglicani 
 urbisque Londini sollicitaverat ; multa alia hostiliter 
 fecerat, priusquam a populo aut magistratibus, tuendae 
 reipub. causa, vel unus miles conscriptus esset. Quae 
 doctrina, quse lex, quae unquam religio, sic homines 
 instituit, ut otio consulendum, ut pecuniae, ut sanguini, 
 ut vitae, potius parcendum esse ducerent, quam hosti 
 obviaai eundum ? Nam exteruo an intestine, quid 
 interest ? cum interitus reipub. sive ab hoc, sive ab 
 illo, funestus aeque et acerbus impendeat. Vidit totus 
 Israel non posse se sine multo sanguine Levitae ux- 
 ©rem stupro enectam ulcisci; an igitur quiescendum 
 sibi esse duxit, an bello civili, quamvis truculeu- 
 tissimo, supersedendum ? an unam igitur muliercu- 
 1am mori inultam est passus ? Cert6 si natura nos 
 docct quamvis pessimi regis dominatum potius pati, 
 quam, in recuperanda libertate, plurimorum civium 
 salutcm in discrimen adducere, doceret eadem non 
 regem solum perferre, queni tamen solum perferen- 
 dura esse contendis, sed optiraatium, sed paucorura, 
 quoque potentiam; latronum etiam nonnunquam et 
 servorum rebellantium multitudinem. Non Fulvius 
 aut Rupilius ad bellum servile post caesos exercitus 
 praetorios, non Crassus in Spartacum post deleta cou- 
 siilarium castra, non Pompeius ad piraticum bellum, 
 t xiisset. Romani vel servis, vel piratis, ne tot civium 
 sanguis effunderetur, hortante scilicet natura, succu- 
 buissent. " Hunc" itaque " sensum," aut hujusmodi 
 ullum " gentibus impressisse naturam" nusquam osten- 
 dis : et tamen non desinis male ominari, et vindictam 
 diviuam, quam in te augurem tuique similes avertat 
 Deus, nobis denuntiare ; qui nomine tantum regem, 
 re hostem acerbissimum, debito supplicio ulti sumus; 
 et innumerabilem bonorura civium ctt'dem authoris 
 poena expiavimus. Nunc magis naturalem esse mo- 
 iiarchiam ex eo probari ais, quod " plures nationes et 
 nunc et olim regium statum receperint, quam optima- 
 tem et popularem." Respondeo primum ncque Deo 
 ncque natura suadente id factum esse; Deus, nisi in- 
 vitus, populum suum sub regio imperio essenoluit; 
 natura quid suadeat et recta ratio, non ex pluribus, 
 sed ex prudentissimis nationibus, optime perspicitur. 
 Graeci, Romani, Itali, Carthaginienses, multique alii, 
 suopte ingenio, vel optimatium vel populi imperium 
 regio prsetulerunt ; atque bae quidem nationes caetera- 
 rura omnium instar sunt. Hinc Sulpitius Severus, 
 " regium nomcn cunctis fer^ liberis gentibus semper 
 invisum" fuisse, tradit. Venim ista non jam hue per- 
 tinent, nee qure sequuntur multa, inani futilitate a te 
 ssepius repetita : ad illud festino, ut quod rationibus 
 firmavi, id exemplis nunc ostendam, esse vel maxime 
 secundum naturam, tjrannos quoquo modo puniri ; id 
 omnes gentes, magistra ipsa uatura, ssepius fecisse ; ex 
 
 quo impudentia tua prsedicanda, et turpissima nien- 
 tiendi licentia, omnibus innotcscere dehinc poterit. 
 Primos omnium inducis^gyptios ; et certequis te per 
 omnia yEgyptizare non videat ? " Apud bos," inquis, 
 "nusquam mentio extat ullius regis a populo per se- 
 ditiones occisi, nullum bellum illatum, aut quicquani 
 factum a populo, quo e solio dejiceretur?" Quid ergo 1' 
 Osiris rex J^lgyptiorum fortasse primus, annon ii fratre 
 Typhone, et vigmti quinque aliis conjuratis, interemp- 
 tus est ? quos et magna pars populi secuta magnum 
 cum Iside et Oro, regis conjuge et filio, praelium com- 
 misit .'* Praetereo Sesostrin a fratre per insidias pene 
 opprcssum; Chemmin etiam et Cephrenem, quibus 
 populus merito infensus, quos vivos non poterat, mor- 
 tuos se discerpturum miuatus est. Qui reges optimos 
 obtruncare sunt ausi, eosneputas, naturoe lumine aut 
 religione aliqua retentos, a pessimis regibus manus ab- 
 stinuisse? qui reges mortuos, et tum demum innocuos, 
 sepulchro eruituros se minitabantur, ubi etiam pauper- 
 culi cuj usque corpus inviolatum esse solet, vivosne illi 
 et nocentissimos propter naturoe legem punire, si modo 
 viribus valerent, vererentur.-* Affirmares baec, scio, 
 quamlibet absurda ; at enim ego, ne affirmare audeas, 
 elinguem te reddam. Scito igitur, multis ante Ce- 
 phrenem sseculis, regnasse apud jEgyptos Ammosin ; 
 et lyrannum, ut qui maxime, fuisse; eum .Slgyptii 
 aequo animo pertulerunt. Laetaris ; hoc enim est quod 
 vis. At reliqua audi, vir optime et veracissime ; Diodori 
 enim verba sunt quae recito ; fikxpi fisu tivoq UapTtpsv 
 oh Swdfitvoi, (Sec. tolerabant aliquandiu oppress], quia 
 rcsisterc potentioribus nullo modo poterant. Quam- 
 primum vero Actisanes, .Sthiopum rex, bellum gerere 
 cum eo ccepit, nacti occasionem plerique defecerunt, 
 eoque facile subacto, iEgyptus regno .lEthiopum ac- 
 cessit. Vides hie iEgyptios, quamprimum poterant, 
 arma contra tyrannum tulisse, copias cum externo rege 
 conjunxisse, ut regem suum ej usque posteros regno pri- 
 varent, bonum et-moderatura regem, qualis erat Acti- 
 sanes, maluisse externum, quam tyrannum domesti- 
 cum. lidem^Egyptii, consensu omnium maximo,Aprien 
 tyrannum suum, conductitiis copiis praesidentera, duce 
 Amasi, praelio victum strangularunt ; Amasi viro nobili 
 regnumdederunt. Hoc etiam adverte ; Amasis captum 
 regem ad tempus in ipsa regia honeste asservabat: in- 
 cusante demum populo, injust^ eum facere qui suum et 
 ipsorum hostem aleret, tradidit populo regem ; qui eum 
 prcedicto supplicio affecit. Haec Herodotus et Diodo- 
 rus. Quid amplius tibi quaeris .-* ecquam tyrannum 
 censes non maluisse vitam securi quam laqueo fiuire? 
 Postea sub Persarum imperium " redacti jEgyptii 
 fideles," inquis, " exstitere;" quod falsissimum est ; in 
 fide enim Persarum nunquam permansere ; sed quarto 
 post anno quam subacti a Cambyse fuerant, rebellarunt. 
 Doiniti deinde a Xer.xe, baud multo post ab ejus filio 
 Artaxerxe defecerunt, regem Inarum quendam sibi ad- 
 sciverunt. Quo occiso iterum fidem mutant, et, con- 
 stitute rege Tacho, Artaxerxi Mnemoni bellum indicunt. 
 Sed, nequesuo regi fideliores, ablatum patri regnum filio 
 Nectanebo tradunt: donee tandem ab Artaxerxe Ocho 
 in ditionem Persarum rediguntur. Sub Macedonum 
 etiam imperio, quantum in se erat, tyrannos coerceu- 
 
680 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGUCANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 dos esse faclis iiulicarunl; statuas ct imagines Ptole- 
 nitti Physcoiiis dojoccrum, ipsum niercenario cxercitu 
 prsrpullentcm iuterficere nequiverunt. Alexander, ejus 
 filius,ob caedem matris concursu populi in exilium agitur : 
 filium item ejus Alexandrum, insolentiiis dominautem, 
 Alcxandrinus populusviabreptum ex regia in gymna- 
 sio publico interfecit : Ptolcniteum denique Auleten ob 
 inulta flagitia regno expulit. Hoec tam nola ciim nou 
 possit nescire vir doctus, non debucrit qui bffic docere 
 profitcatur, qui fidera tantis in rebus babcri sibi postu- 
 let; quis non pudendum ct indignissimum esse dicat, 
 liunc, vel tam rudem et indoctum, tanta cum infamia 
 bonarum literarum, pro doctissimo circumferre se tumi- 
 duni, et stipendia rcgum et ciritatum ambire, vel tam 
 improbum et mendacem, non iusigni aliquaignominia 
 notatum, ex omnium communitate et consortio turn 
 doctorum turn bonorum exterminari. Postquara ^Egyp- 
 tura lustravimus; ad iEthiupes jam proximos visamus. 
 Regem a Deo cicctum, ut credunt, quasi Deum quen- 
 dam adorant: quoties tamen eum sacerdotus damnant, 
 ipse mortem sibi consciscit Sic enim, Diodoro teste, 
 omnes alios maleficos puniunt; non ipsi morte affici- 
 unt, sed ipsos reos lictore misso mori jubent. Ad As- 
 sjrios deiiide et Medos et Persas, regum observantissi- 
 nios, accedis : "jusillic regium summa cum licentia 
 ([uidlibet faciendi conjunctum fuisse" contra omnium 
 liistoricorum fidem aflSrmas. Narrat imprimis Daniel 
 ut regem Nebuchadnezzarem, plus nimio superbientem, 
 homines a se depulerint, et ad bcstias ablegaverint. 
 Jus eorum non regium, sed Medorum et Persarum, id 
 est populi jus, appellatur ; quod cum irrevocabile esset, 
 reges etiam obligavit. Darius itaque Medus eripere 
 nianibus satraparum Danielem, quauquara id maxima 
 agebat, non potuit. " Populi," inquis, " uefas esse tum 
 credebant regem repudiare, quod illo jure abuteretur." 
 Inter ipsa tamen baec verba adeo misere obtorpes, ut 
 dum istorum populorum obedientiam et modestiam 
 laudas, ereptura Sardanapalo regnum ab Arbace tua 
 sponte commemores. Eripuit autem is non solus, sed 
 partim a sacerdotibus juris peritissimis, partim a popu- 
 lo, adjutus, atque hoc prtesertim nomine eripuit, quod 
 is jure rcgio, non ad crudelitatcm, sed ad luxuriamtan- 
 tummodo et mollitiem, abuteretur. Percurre Herodo- 
 tum, Ctesiam, Diodoruni, intelliges omnino contra esse 
 quam dicis, " a subdilis ut plurimiim ea regna destructa 
 fuisse, non ab extemis : " Assyrios reges a Medis, Me- 
 dos a Persis, utrisque tum subditis, sublatos fuisse. 
 " Cyrum " ipse " rebellasse, et arreptas tyranuides in 
 diversis imperii locis" fateris. Hoccine est jus regium 
 apud Medos et Persas, et observantiam eorum in reges, 
 quod instituisti, asserere .■* Quae te Anticyra tam delinim 
 sanare potest? " Persarum reges qiiali jure regnarint 
 ex Uerodoto," inquis, " liquet." Cambyses, cum soro- 
 rem in matrimonio habere cuperet, judices regios con- 
 sulit, delectus " ex populo viros," legum interpretes, ad 
 quos omnia referri solebant. Quid illi ? negant se in- 
 venire legem, quae jubeat fratrem secum in matrimoni- 
 um sororem jungere; aliam tamen invenisse, qua liceat 
 Persarum reg^ facere quae libeat. Primum si rex 
 omnia pro suo jure poterat, quid alio legum interprete 
 quam ipso rcge opus rrat ? siipcrvacanei isti jiidiccs 
 
 ubivis potiiis quam in regia mansissent. Deiudc si 
 rigi Persarum quidvis licuit, incredibile est id adeo 
 nescivisse Cambysem, dominationis cupidissimum, ut 
 quid licitum esset judices illos percuntaretur. Quid 
 ergo ? vel " gratificari" volentes " regi," ut fateris ipse, 
 vel a tyranno sibi metuentes, ut ait Herodotus, facilem 
 quandam se reperisse legem simulant, palpum regi ob- 
 trudentcs: quod in judicibus et legum peritis, hac 
 etiam aetatc, novum non est. At vero " Artabanus 
 Persa dixit ad Themistoclem, nullam legem apud 
 Persas esse meliorem ilia qua sancitum fuerat, regem 
 esse honorandum et adorandum." Prteclaram tu qui- 
 dem legem de adoratione regum intruducis, etiam a 
 patribus antiquis damnatam ; prteclarum etiam Icgis 
 comnicndatorem Artabanum, qui ipse baud multo 
 postea sua manu Xerxem regem suum trucidavit. 
 Probos regem defensores regicidas nobis adfers : suspi- 
 cor te regibus insidias quasdam nioliri. Claudianum 
 citas poetam, Persarum obedientite testem. At ego te 
 ad res eorum gestas et annales revoco, defectionibus 
 Persarum, Medorum, Bactrianorum, Babyloniorum, 
 etiam csedibus regum, refertissimos. Proximus tibi 
 author est Otancs Persa, ipse etiam Smerdis inter- 
 fector sui regis, qui cum odio potestatis regiee, injurias 
 et facinora regum exponat, violationes legum, caedes 
 indemnatorum, stupra, adulteria, hoc tu jus regium 
 vis appellari, et Samuelis iterum calumniandi in men- 
 tem tibi venit. De Homero, qui reges esse ab Jove 
 ccciuit, supra respondi : Philippo regi, jus regium in- 
 terpretanti, tam credani quam Carolo. Ex Diogenis 
 dcinde Pythagoraei fragmento queedara producis, at 
 quali is de rege dicat taces. Accipe igitur quo ille usus 
 est exordio; ad quod referri quae sequuntur cuncta de- 
 bent. BaffiXivg k' tit] 6 liKaioTaros, &c. " Rex ille 
 fuerit, qui justissimus est, justissimus autem, qui max- 
 imd legitimus ;" nam sine justitia nullus " rex esse 
 poterit, neque justitia sine lege." Haec cum jure tuo 
 regio e regione pugnaut. Eadem abs te recitatus Ec- 
 pbantas philosophatur. Am £i icat tov tig dvrdv kotu- 
 TaVra, &c. " oportet qui regnum suscipit purissimnm et 
 lucidissimum natura esse :" et infra, 6 kut^ dpirdv i^ap- 
 X<>>v, &c. " ille qui imperat secundum virtutem, nomi- 
 natur rex, et est." Quern tu igitur regem vocas, Py- 
 thagoreorum judicio rex non est. Jam tu vicissini 
 Platonem audi in epistola octava, apx') ytyveaSw iiTrtv- 
 QvvoQ (iaaiXiKri, Sec. ; " sit regia potestas reddendac 
 rationi obnoxia; leges doniinentur et aliis civibus et 
 ipsis etiam regibus, si quid praeter leges facerint." 
 Addo Aristotelem Polit. 3. iv fikv roi ofieiotg Kat laots oin 
 (Tviitpkpov ioTiv, &c. " inter similes et a^quales neque 
 utile est neque justum, esse unum omnium dominuni, 
 neque ubi leges non sunt, neque ut ipse lex sit, neque 
 ubi sunt leges ; neque bonum bonorum, neque non 
 bonum non bonorum dominum esse." Et lib. quinto, 
 " Quem populus non vult, statim is non rex, sed ty- 
 rannus est," c. 10. Hem tibi etiam Xenophontem in 
 Hierone, dvri tov rt/iu>pt(v at troKuQ avTolg, Sec. " tantum 
 abest ut tyrannorum necem civitates ulciscantur, ut 
 magnis honoribus afficiant eum, qui tyrannum inter- 
 feccrit, imagines etiam tyrannicidarum in teniplis sta- 
 tuunt." Testem occulatum adjiciam MarcumTuUium 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 681 
 
 pro Milone. " Graeci homines deorum honores tribu- 
 unt iis viris qui tyrannos necaverunt : quae eg^o vidi 
 Athenis, quae aliis in urbibus Graeciae, quas res divinas 
 talibus institutas viris, quos cautus, quje carmina ? 
 prope ad imniortalitaleni, et relig^ionem, et memoriatn 
 consecrantur." Poljbius denique, author gravissimus, 
 Historiarum 6to. tote Sk tmq iiriQvfiiaiq knofitvoi, &c. 
 *' cum principes," inquit, " cupiditatibus obsequi coepe- 
 runt, turn de rejjtio facta est tyrannis, et conspiratio in 
 caput dominantium inibatur; cujus quidem authorcs 
 erant non deterrimi civium, sed generosissimi quique 
 et niaximi animi." Longe plura cum mihisuppetcrent, 
 haec pauca delibavi : obruor enim copia. Aphilosophis 
 ad poetas jam provocas; eo te libentissime sequimur. 
 " Potestatem nullis legibus, nullis judiciis, obnoxiam 
 in Graicia reges obtinuisse vel unus,"inquis,"^schy- 
 lus potest docere ; qui in tragCEdia, Snpplices, regem 
 Argivorum dxpiTov irpvTaviv vocat, nou judicabilem 
 rectorem." Verum tu scito, (praccipitem enira te et 
 nullius judicii esse, quocunque te vertis, eo magis per- 
 spicio,) scito, inquam, non quid poeta, sed quis apud 
 poctam quidque dicat, spectandum esse : variae enim 
 personae inducuntur, nunc bonac, nunc malte, nunc 
 sapientes, nunc simplices, non semper quid poetae vide- 
 atur, sed quid cuique maxime conveniat, loqucntos. 
 Danai filiae quinquaginta, ex ^,gypto profugae, ad 
 Argivorum regem supplices pervenerant; orant uti se 
 contra vim jEgyptiorum, classc insequentium, defen- 
 dat; respondet rex non posse se, nisi rem prius cum 
 populo communicet. 
 
 Eyw S' dv oil Kpaivoifi' vTroff^fiTiv irapoe 
 AcTutv li nam rolaSt Koivuaac vipi. 
 
 Mulieros peregrinoe et supplices, incerta populi suffra- 
 gia veritae, regem denuo blandii\s compellant. 
 
 Sw rot ffoXif , ail Si to S^fiiov, 
 
 Tlpvravtc aKpiTOQ wv. 
 
 "Tu instar urbis es et populi, praetor injudicatus." 
 
 Rursus rex, 
 
 Etirov It Kai rrpiv, ovk dvtv Stjiih Tact 
 npa'?fl«/i' av oiiStTrfp KpaTwv. 
 
 " Dixi antea, non sine populo haec faciam, ne si 
 possem quidem." 
 
 De re itaque tota ad populum refert, 
 
 'Eyw Si Xdag <rvvKa\u!v lyjfoipiMQ 
 Titiait) TO Koivov. 
 
 Populus itaque decernit opem Danai filiabus ferendam ; 
 unde ilia senis Danai Icetantis. 
 
 QapatiTi iralStQ, ev tcl Tuiv iy)(ii}pii))V 
 Ai]fiH StSoKTai iravTtXr] }pi]<l)iff[iaTa. 
 " Bono estote animo filiae, bene decreverunt 
 " Indigenarum, in conventu populari, perfectissima 
 suffragia." 
 
 Hccc nisi protulissem, quam temere statuisset sciolus 
 iste de jure regio apud Groecos ex ore mulierum, et 
 peregrinarum, et supplicum ; cum et ipse rex, et ipsa 
 res gesta, longe aliud uos doceat. Idem etiam docet 
 
 Euripidis Orestes, qui, mortuo patre, Argivorum ipse 
 rex, ob caedem matris a populo in judicium vocatus, 
 ipse causam dixit, et sufFragiis populi capite damnatus 
 est. Athenis regiam potestatem legibus obnoxiam 
 fuisse testatur idem Euripides etiam in Supplicibus, 
 ubi haec Theseus Athenarura rex — 
 
 ov ydp dpyiTai 
 'Evbg Trpoc avSpoQ, a\X' i\tv5kpa iroKig, 
 Aj/juoc 5' dvdaati — 
 
 " non regitur 
 " Ab uno viro, sed est libera haec civitas, 
 " Populus autem regnat — " 
 
 Sic ejus filius Demophoon, rex item Atheuiensium, 
 apud eundem poetam in Heraclidis. 
 
 0« yap TvpavvlS' iioTi jSapjSapwv t;^w, 
 AW riv SiKata SpH, SUaia viiaoiiat. 
 " Non enim iis tyranuice tanquam barbaris impero, 
 " Sed si facio justa quae sunt, justa mihi rependentur." 
 
 Non aliud Thebis jus regium antiquitus fuisse testatur 
 Sophocles in CEdipo tyranno, unde et Tiresias et Creon 
 Mdivo fero<."iter respoiisant, ille 
 
 ov yap Ti aoi ^w SovXog 
 " Non servus tibi sum." 
 
 Hic, Kuftoi TToXeus ftiTtaTi Ti)Q, 5' ow aoi fiovi^. 
 
 "Est et niihi jus in hac civitate non tibi solum." 
 
 Et ^mon Creonti in Antigone. 
 
 IToXiff yap ovk ttfi^, T/rtf dvSpbg tffS' ivog, 
 " Non est civitas, quae unius est viri." 
 
 Jam vero Lacedsemoniorum reges in judicium saepe 
 adductos, et interdum morte multatos, nemo ignorat. 
 Atque haec quidem antiquum in Graecia jus regium 
 quale fuerit satis declarant. Ad Romanes veniamus. 
 Tu ad illud imprimis recurris non Sallustianum, sed 
 C. Memmii apud Sallustium, " impune quidvis fa- 
 cere :" cui supra responsum est. Sallustius ipse di- 
 sertis verbis author est, " Romano imperium legitimum, 
 nomen imperii regium, habuisse :" quod cum " se in 
 dominationem convertit," ut nosti, expulerunt. Sic 
 M. Tullius in Pisonem, " ego consulem esse putem, 
 qui senatum esse in repub. non putavit ? et sine eo 
 consilio consulem uumerem, sine quo Romae ne reges 
 quidem esse potuerunti*" Audin' regem Romae sine 
 senatu nihil fuisse .■* "At Romulus, ut libitum, Roma- 
 nis imperitaverat, ut ait Tacitus." Nondum enim 
 fundata legibus, colluvies potius convenarum quam 
 respub. erat : omnes olim mortales sine legibus vive- 
 bant, cum respublicae nondum essent. Post Romulum 
 autem, authore Livio, etsi regem omnes volebant, li- 
 bertatis dulcedine nondum experta, " Populo tamen 
 summa potestas permissa est, ut non plus darent juris 
 quam detinerent ; jus illud" a Caesaribus " vi ademp- 
 tum fuisse" idem ait. Scrvius Tullius dolo primum, 
 quasi Tarquinii Prisci vicarius, regnabat ; postea vero 
 ad populum ipse retulit, " vellent juberentne se reg- 
 nare ;" tandem ut ait Tacitus, " sanctor legum fuit, 
 queis etiam reges obtemperarent." Fecissetne hanc 
 sibi et posteris injuriam, si supra leges prius fuisse jus 
 
682 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 reyiuin seusisset ? Ultimus illorum regum Tarquiiiius 
 Superbus " morcru de uniuibiis sciiatiini coiisuleiuii 
 primus solvit;" ob boec ct alia Hag'itia pupulus L. 
 Tarquiuio regi imperium abrog'avit ; cxulcmque esse 
 cuuj cuiijug'c ac liberis jussit. Heec fere ex liivio et 
 Ciccruiic ; quibus alius juris regiiapud Ilumanos baud 
 tu iuterprutcs attulcris mcliores. Ad dictaturani quud 
 attiuct, tcmporaria taiitiim fuit, nunquam adbibita ui 
 difficillimis reipub. teniporibus, ct intra sex menses de- 
 poneuda. Jus autcm imperatorum quod vocas, non jus 
 illud, sed vis, plane erat; imperium nullo jure pneter- 
 quani armis partum. At " Tacitus," inquis " qui sub 
 imperio floruit," ista scripsit. " Principi sumnium re- 
 rum arbitrium dii dcdcrunt, subdilisobsequii gloria re- 
 licta est." Nee dicis quo loco ; tibi conscius nimirum 
 iusignitcr lectoribus imposuisse ; quod mihi quidcm sta- 
 tim suboluit, quaravis locum ilium non statim rcpcri. 
 Non enim Taciti base verba sunt, scriptoris boni, et ty- 
 rannis adversissimi, sed apud Taciturn M. Tercnlii cu- 
 jusdam equitis Romani, qui capitis reus, inter alia,quce 
 metu mortis ab co dicta sunt, sic Tiberium adulatur, an- 
 iialiumGto. "Tibisummumrerumjudiciumdildederunt, 
 nobis obsequii gloria relicta est." Hauc tu quasi Taciti 
 sententiam profers, qui sententias tibi conimodas non 
 ex pistrina solum, aut tonstrina, sed ex ipsa carnificina, 
 oblatas non respueres : ita omnia vel ostentationis 
 causa, vel imbecillitatis conscientia, undecunque cor- 
 radis. Taciturn ipsum si legere maluisses, quam alicubi 
 decerptum negligentiiis transcribere, docuisset te is, 
 jus illud imperatorum unde ortuni sit. " Post Actiacam 
 victoriam, verso civitatis statu, nihil usquam prisci aut 
 integri moris ; omnes exuta aequalitate jussa principis 
 aspectare ;" docuisset idem, annalium 3tio, unde tuum 
 umne jus regium; " Postquam exui aequalitas, et pro 
 modestia ac pudore ambitio et vis incedebat, provenere 
 dominationes ; multosque apud populos aeternum man- 
 sere." Idem ex Dione poteras didicisse, si innata le- 
 vitas et inconstantia tua quicquam te altiiis perciperc 
 pateretur. Xarrat enim is 1. 53. abs te citato, ut partim 
 armis, partim dolo et simulatione Octaviani Ccesaris, 
 effectum sit, ut imperatores legibus soluti essent ; dum 
 enim pro concionc pollicetur se priucipatu abiturum, 
 legibus et iniperiis etiam aliorum obtemperaturum, per 
 causam belli in provinciis suis gerendi, retentis apud 
 se semper legionibus, dum simulate renuit imperium, 
 sensira invasit. Non est hoc legibus rite solutum esse, 
 sed legum vincula, quod gladiator ille Spartacus po- 
 tuit, vi solvere; nomen deinde principis aut imperatoris 
 et dvTOKpdropoi sibi arrogare, quasi Deus aut natura- 
 Icx oraues et homines et leges illi subjecisset. Vis 
 altius paulo juris Caesarei originem cognoscere ? Mar- 
 cus Antonius, jussu Caesaris, qui, armis in rempublicam 
 uefarie sumptis, tum plurimum poterat, consul factus, 
 cum Lupercalia Romte celebrarentur, ex composite, ut 
 videbatur, diadema capiti Coesaris cum geniitu et plan- 
 gore j)opuli imposuit: ascribi deinde jussit in fastis ad 
 Lupercalia, C. Ceesari Antonium consulem, jussu 
 l>opuli, rcgnum detulisse. Qua de re Cicero in secunda 
 Philippica ; " Ideone L. Tarquinius exactus, Spurius 
 Cassius, Sp. Melius, M. Manlius necati, ut multis post 
 wecuhs a M. Antonio, quod fas non est, rex Romee 
 
 constitueretur.''" Tu vero omni malo cruciatu atque 
 infaniia sempitenia etiam ipso Antonio dignior es; 
 quanquam tu bine noli superbire, non enim te, bomi- 
 nem despicatissimum, ulla re alia quam srelere cum 
 Antonio conferendum putem, qui, in hisce tuis Luper- 
 calibusnefandis, non uni tantiim, sed omnibus tyrannis, 
 diadf ma cunctis legibus solutum, nulla solvendum, im- 
 ponere studuisti. C'erte si ipsorum Caesarum oraculo 
 crcdcndum est, sic enim appellant Christiani impera- 
 tores Theodosius et Valens edictum suum,cod. 1. I. tit. 
 14. de authoritate juris imperatorum pendet authoritas. 
 Majcstas ergo regnantis, vel ipsorum Ca>sarura sive 
 judicio sive oraculo, subniittenda legibus est, de qui- 
 bus pendet. Hinc, adulta jam potestate imperatoria, 
 ad Trajanum Plinius in Panegyrico ; " Diversa sunt 
 naturu dominatio ct principatus. Trajanus regnura 
 ipsum arcct ac summovet, sedemque obtinet principis, 
 ne sit domino locus." Et infra, " omnia, quie de aliis 
 principibus a me dicta sunt, eo pertinent ut ostendam, 
 quam longa consuetudine corruptos, depravatosque, 
 mores principatus parens nostcr reformet, et corrigat." 
 Quod depravatos principatus mores Plinius, id tene 
 pudet jus regium perpetuo vocitare .'* Vejiim hactcnus 
 de jure regio apud Romanos breviter. Quid illi in 
 tyrannos suos, sive reges, sive ini])eratores, fecerint, 
 vulgo notum est. Tarquinium expulerunt. Sed"quo- 
 niodo," inquis, " expulerunt; an in jus vocarunt.^ ne- 
 quaquam ; portas venienti clauserunt." Ridiculum , 
 caput ! quidni clauderent advolanti cum parte copi- ' 
 arum? quid refert exulare jussus fuerit an mori, modo 
 pcenas dedisse constat.'' Ca. Caesarcm tyrannum cx- 
 ccllentissimi ejus aetatis viri in scnatu intcrfecerunt ; 
 id factum M. TuUius et ipse vir optimus, et pater patrite 
 publice dictus, miris laudibus, ciim alibi passim, turn" 
 in 2daPhilippica,celebravit. Pauca recitabo. "Omnes 
 boni, quantum in ipsis fuit, Caesarem occiderunt; aliis 
 consilium, aliis animus, aliis occasio, defuit, voluntas 
 nemini." Et infra. " Quce enim res unquam, proh '' 
 sancte Jupiter, non modo in hac urbe, sed in omnibus 
 terris est gesta major, qute gloriosior, quaj commenda- 
 tior hominum memorise sempitemae ? in hujus me 
 consilii societatem, tanquam in equum Trojanum, in- 
 cludi cum principibus non recuso." Illud Senecaj 
 tragici et ad Groecos referri potest, et ad Romanos : 
 
 Victima baud ulla amplior 
 
 Potest, magisque opima mectari Jovi, 
 
 Quam rex iniquus. 
 
 Nam si ad Herculem spectes, cujus hoec sententia in- 
 ducitur, quid senserint ilia a^tate Graecorum summi viri 
 ostendit: si ad poelam, qui sub Neronc floruit (et sen- 
 sum fere suum poetae personis optimis affingere solent) 
 signiiicabat et quid ipse, et quid omnes viri boni, a'tate 
 etiam Neronis, faciendum tjranno ceusuerint; quam- 
 que piura, quamque diis gratum, esse duxerint tyran- 
 nicidium. Sic optimi quique Romanorum, quantum 
 in se erat, Domitianum occiderunt. Palhra hoc pro- 
 fitctur Plinius secundus in illo ad Trajanum imperato- 
 rem Panegyrico. " Juvabat illidere solo superbissimos 
 vultus, instare ferro, saevire securibus, ut si singulos 
 ictus sanguis dolorque sequerctur: nemo tarn tempc- 
 raiis gaudii, qitin iustar ultiuuis vidcretur cerncre lace- 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 683 
 
 ros artiis, truncata membra, postremo truces horrendas- 
 que imag-ines abjectas excoctasque flammis." Et deiiulc, 
 " non satis amant bouos principes, qui malos satis nou 
 oderint." Turn inter flagitia Domitiani ponit, quod 
 is Epaphroditum, Neronis utcunque interfectorem, tru- 
 cidaverit. " An excidit dolori nostro modo viudicatus 
 Nero, permitteret credo famam vitamque ejus carpi, 
 qui mortem ulciscebatur ?" Plane quasi sceleri proxi- 
 mum esse judicaret, non interfecisse Neronem, scelus 
 gravissinuiin vindicasse interfectum. Ex his manifes- 
 tum est, Komanorum proestantissimos quosque viros 
 non solum tyrannos quoquo modo, quoties poterant, 
 occidisse, sed factum illud, ut Grteci olim, in maxima 
 laudc posuisse : vivum enini tyrannum quoties judicare 
 non poterant viribus inferiores, niortuum tanien et ju- 
 dicabant, et lege Valeria damnabant. Valerius enim 
 Publicola, Junii Bruti collega, cum videret non posse 
 stipatos suis militibus tyrannos ad judicium perduci, 
 legem tulit, qua indemnatum quovis modo occidcre 
 liceret; deinde facti rationcm rcddere. Hinc C. Cali- 
 gulam, qucm Cassius ferro, omnes volis iuterfeceruut ; 
 Valerius Asiaticus, vir consularis, ciim non adesset, ad 
 niilitcs tamcn ob necem ejus tumultuantes exclaroat, 
 " utinam ego interfecissem ; " senatus eodem tempore 
 abolcndam Ca;sarum memoriam, ac diruenda templa, 
 censuit; tantum abfuit ut Cassio irasceretur ; Clau- 
 dium, a militibus imperatorem mox salutatum vetant 
 per tribuiium plebis principatum capescere; vis autem 
 niilitum vicit. Neronem senatus hostem judicavit, et, 
 ut ])uniretur more majorum, quserebat ; id genus poenoe 
 erat, ut uudi cervix insereretur furcae, corpus virgis ad 
 iiecem ctcderetur. Vide quanto mitius et moderatiiis 
 Angli cum tyranno egcrint suo, qui multorum judicio 
 plus ipso Ncronc sanguinis fundendi author lucrat. Sic 
 Domitianum mortuuni senatus damnavit; quod potuit, 
 imagines ejus coram detrahi, et solo affligi, jussit. Com- 
 inodus a suis interfcctus, non vindicatus a senatu aut 
 populo, sed bostis judicatus est, qui etiam cadaver ejus 
 ad supplicium qufcrcbant. Ea de re senatusconsultum 
 cxtat apud Lamj)ridium; " Hosti patrite honores de- 
 trahantur, parricida trabatur, in spoliario lanietur, 
 hostis dcorum, carnifex senatus unco trabatur," &c. 
 I idem Didium Julianum imperatorem frequentissimo 
 senatu capitis damnarunt ; et, niisso tribuno, occidi in 
 ])alatio jusserunt. lidem Maximino imperium abroga- 
 runt, hosteraque judicarunt. Juvat ipsum senatuscon- 
 sultum ex Capitolino recitare. " Consul rctulit ; Pa- 
 tres Conscripti, de Maximiuis quid placet?" responsum 
 est, " hostes, hostes ; qui cos occiderit, prcemium mere- 
 bitur." Vis scire populus Romanus et provinciee Maxi- 
 mino imperatori an senatui paruerint? audi eundem 
 Capitolinum. " Literas mittit senatus" ad omnes pro- 
 vincias, ut communi saluti libertatique subveniant ; quae 
 auditte sunt ab omnibus. Ubique amici, ad ministra tores, 
 duces, tribuni, milites, Maximini interfecti sunt : paucie 
 civitates fidem hosti publico servaverunt. Eadem tradit 
 Herodianus. Quid plura de Romanis? Jam apud fini- 
 timas nationes quale jus regum ilia oetate fuerit videa- 
 mus. Apud Gallos rex eoruni Ambiorix " sua ejusmodi 
 esse iniperia" fatetur, " ut non minus haberet in se juris 
 multitudo,. quam ipse in multitudinem." Judicabatur 
 
 ergo non minus quam judicabat. Rex item Vercinge- 
 torix proditionis insimulatus est a suis ; tradit baec 
 Caesar, bellum Gallicum scribens. Nee " Germanorum 
 regibusinfinita aut libera potestas" erat; "deminoribus 
 rebus principes consultant, de majoribus omnes. Rex 
 aut princeps auditur authoritate suadendi magis quam 
 jubendi potestate ; si displicuit sententia, fremitu asper- 
 nautur." Haec Tacitus. Tu vero, quod inauditum 
 prorsus esse modo exclamabas, nunc seepiiis factum 
 concedis, " quinquaginta" uimirum " Scolorum reges 
 aut expulsos, aut incarceratos, aut necatos, quosdam 
 etiam in publico capilali supplicio aftectos." Quod in 
 ipsa Britannia factitatum est, cur tu, tyrannorum ves- 
 pillo, infandum, inauditum, esse tanta ejulatione vo- 
 ciferaris ? Pergis Judaeorum et Christianorum erga 
 tyrannos suos religionem extollere, et mendacia ex 
 mendaciis serere, quae jam toties refutavimus. Modo 
 Assyriorum et Persarum obedientiam late prtedicabas, 
 nunc eorum rebelliones enumeras ; et quos uunquam 
 rebellasse paulo ante dixeras, nunc cur iidem toties 
 rebelliiverint multas causas affei-s. Ad narrationera 
 deinde sumpti de rege supplicii, tamdiu intermissam, 
 revertis, ut, si tunc forte satis sedulo ineptus et ridi- 
 culus non eras, nunc esses. " Per aulae suse membra 
 ductum" narras. Quid per aulae membra intelligas 
 scire gestio. Romanorum calamitates ex regno in 
 rempub. verso recenses, in quo te tibimet turpissime 
 mentiri supra ostendimus. Qui ad Loiolitam, " sediti- 
 ones tantum sub optimatibus et populo, certam sub 
 tyranno perniciem esse," demonstrabas, nunc, hominum 
 vanissime et corruptissime, " ob reges olim ejectos 
 seditionum ilia mala tanquam supplicia illos hausisse" 
 audes dicere ? scilicet quia centum Jacobaeis donavit 
 te postea rex Carolus, idcirco reges expulsos luent Ro- 
 niani. At mal6 cessit Julii Caesaris interfectoribus. 
 Sane si cui unquam tyranno, huic parcitum vellem; 
 quamvis enim regnum in repub. violentiiis invadebat, 
 erat tamen regno fortasse dignissimus: nee ideo quen- 
 quam magis putem interfecti Csesaris poenas pepen- 
 disse, quam deleti Catilinie Caium Antonium Ciceronis 
 coUegam : quo postea de aliis criminibus damnato, ut 
 inquit Cicero pro Flacco, " sepulcbrum Catilinae flori- 
 bus ornatum est." Fautores enim Catilinae tunc ex- 
 ultabant, " justa Catilinae tum facta esse dictitabant," 
 ad invidiam cseteris conflandam, qui Catilinam siis- 
 tulerant. Hae sunt improborum artes, quibus viros 
 prsestantissimos a supplicio tyrannorum, et puniendis 
 etiam ssepe facinorosissimis, deterreant. Dicerem ego 
 contra, quod facile esset, quoties bene cessit etprospere 
 tyrannorum interfectoribus, si quid cerli de eventu re- 
 rum colligere quis posset. Objectas, quod " regem 
 haereditarium Angli non illo affecerint supplicio, quo 
 tyranni solent mactari, sed eo, quo latrones et pro- 
 ditionis rei." Prinium haereditas ad maleficiorum im- 
 punitatem quid conferat nescio : conferre quicquam ut 
 credat sapiens, fieri vix potest. Quod tu deinde ad 
 " immanitatem" refers, in eo lenitas potiiis Anglorum, 
 et moderatio, praedicanda erat ; qui, cum tyrannum 
 esse omnes in patriam impietates, latrocinia, proditiones, 
 perduelliones, in se.complectatur, satis habebant sup- 
 plicium baud gravius de tyranno sumerc, quam de 
 
664 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 sitnplici latrone quovis, aut proditore vulfi^ari, sumcre 
 solebant. Speras " exorituros esse aliquos Harniodios 
 et Thrasybulos, qui, nostrorum cnede, tyraiiui maiiibus 
 parentent." At tu citius animum despuiidebis, et 
 vitam de di<^naiu, omnibus bonis execrandus, antd sus- 
 peiidio finieris, quani Hartnodios Harmodiorura san- 
 guine litantes tvranno videas. Tibi enim illud accidere 
 verisimillimum est, deque te tarn scelerato quis aug-u- 
 rari rectiiis possit: alterum est impossibile. Tyran- 
 norum triginta nicntioiiem facis qui sub Gallieno re- 
 bellarunt. Quid si tjrannus tyraunum oppugnat, an 
 omnes ergo qui oppugnant tyrannum, aut tollunt, ty- 
 ranni erunt ipsi ? baud tu id persuaseris, niancipiutn 
 equestre ; neque is qui autbor tibi est, Trebellius Pol- 
 lio, historicorum prope ignobilissirai's. " Si qui hostes," 
 inquis, "i senatu judicati sunt, factio id fecit, non jus." 
 Nobis in memoriam revocas quid fecit imperatores ; 
 factio nempe, et vis, et, ut planiiks dicam, furor An- 
 tonii, non jus, fecit, ut contra senatum populumque 
 Ronianum ipsi priiis rebellarent. " Dedit," inquis, 
 *' poenas Galba, qui contra Neronem insurrexit." Die 
 etiani quas poenas dedit Vespasianus, qui contra Vi- 
 tellium. " Tantum," inquis, " abfuit Carolus a Ne- 
 rone, quantum isti lanioncs Anglican! a seuatoribus 
 illius tcraporis Romanis." Trifurcifer, a quo laudari 
 Titupcrium est, vituperari laus magna: paucis modo 
 periodis interpositis, bac ipsa de re scribens, " senatum 
 sub imperatoribus togatorum mancipiorum consessum 
 fuisse" aiebas, nunc eundem " senatum" a'is " con- 
 sessum regum fuisse :" hoc si ita est, quid obstat quin 
 reges, te authore, togata mancipia sint ? Beatos hoc 
 laudatore reges ! quo inter homines nihil nequius, in- 
 ter quadrupedes nihil amentius : nisi si hoc illi pecu- 
 liare dicam esse, quod nemo literatius rudit. Senatum 
 Anglice Neroni vis esse similiorem quam senatui Ro- 
 mano : cogit me cacoethes hoc tuum ineptissimas con- 
 glutinandi similitudines, ut corrigam te ; et quam 
 similis Neroni fuerit Carolus, ostendam. " Nero," in- 
 quis, " matrem suam" ferro "necavit." Carolus et 
 patrem et regem veneno ; nam, ut alia omittam indicia, 
 qui ducem veneficii ream legibus eripuit, fieri non po- 
 tuit quin ipse reus quoque fuerit. Nero multa millia 
 Cbristianorum occidit, Carolus multo plura. Non de- 
 fuerunt, teste Suetonio, qui Neronem mortuum lauda- 
 rent, qui desiderarent, qui per longum tempus, " vernis 
 aestivisque floribus tumulum ejus ornarent," ejus ini- 
 micis omnia mala ominarentur : non dcsunt qui Caro- 
 lum cadem insania desiderent, et summis laudibus 
 extollant, quorum tu, patibularis eques, chorum ducis. 
 " Milites Angli molossis suis ferociores novum et inau- 
 ditum tribunal instituerunt." En acutissimum Salmasii 
 sive symbolum sive adagium,jam sexies inculcatum, 
 "Molossis suis ferociores;" adeste rbetores, vosque 
 ludimagistri, delibate, si sapitis, flosculum hunc ele- 
 gantissimum, qui tarn Salmasio in deliciis est; codicil- 
 lis vestris et capsulis mandate copiosissimi bominis 
 pigmentum, ne intereat. Adeone etiam verba tua con- 
 sumpsit rabies, ut, cuculi in modum, eadem idcntidem 
 occinere cogaris ? Quid hoc monstri esse dicam ? Ra- 
 bies, ut fabulantur, vertit Hecubam in canem, te S ' 
 Lupi dominum vertit in cuculum. Jam novas exordiris 
 
 repugnantias : supra p. 113. aflirmaveras " Principem 
 legibus solutum esse, non cogcntibus" solum, sed "di- 
 rigcntibus, nullas esse omninu qnibus teneatur;" nunc 
 dicturum te a'is " infra de regum differentia, quatcnus 
 potestate, alii mioore, alii majore, in re;;nando fuerunt." 
 Vis probarc, "reges non potuisse judicari, nee damnari 
 a subjectis suis argumento," ut ipse ais, " fimiissimo," 
 revera stolidissimo ; " nihil," inquis, " aliud inter ju- 
 dices et reges discrimen fuit : atqui Judaei judicum 
 tffidio odioque adducti reges postulabant." An quia 
 judices illos magistratum male gerentes judicare et 
 damnare poterant, ideone putas ttedio odioque eorura 
 adductos postulasse reges, quos jura omnia violantes 
 punire, aut in ordinem cogere, non poterant? quis, 
 excepto te uno, tam fatue ratiocinari solet? Aliud igi- 
 tur quiddam erat cur regem peterent, quam ut haberent 
 dominum legibus superiorem ; de quo nunc divinarc 
 nihil attinet: quicquid erat, baud prudenti consilio 
 factum et Deus et propheta ejus testatus est. Iterura 
 rabbinis tuis, ex quibus probasse te supra asserebas 
 regem Judceorum non judicari, nunc litem acerrimara 
 intendis, quod regem et judicari et verberari posse tra- 
 diderint : quod idem plane est acsi faterere ementitum 
 te tunc esse, quod ex rabbinis probasse dixeras. Eo 
 demum descendis ut de numero equilium Solomonis, 
 quot " is equorum proesepia habuerit," oblitus regiae 
 defensionis, controversias putidulas concites. Taudcm 
 ab agasone ad equitem redis aretalogum et tautologum, 
 vel potius ad id monstri quod priiis eras, cuculum ra- 
 biosum. Qucreris enim "postremis" hisce " sseculis 
 disciplinee vigorem laxatum, regulam corruptam ;" 
 quod uni scilicet tyranno, cunctis legibus soluto, disci- 
 plinam omnem laxare, mores omnium corrumpere, im- 
 pune non liceat. Hanc doctrinam " Brunistas inter 
 reformatos" introduxisse a'is. Ita Lutbcrus, Calvinus, 
 Zuinglius, Bucerus, et Ortbodoxorum quotquot cele- 
 berrimi theologi fuere, tuo judicio Brunistse sunt. Quo 
 aequiore animo tua maledicta perferunt Angli, ciim in 
 ecclesisE doctores proestantissimos, totamque adeo eccle- 
 siam reformatam, iisdem prop^ contumeliis debaccbari 
 te audiant. 
 
 CAPUT VI. 
 
 Post legem Dei et naturae agitatam abs te frustrsj 
 et pessime tractatam, unde nihil preeter ignorantii 
 simul et improbitatis iguominiam rctulisti,quid deinde, 
 in hac causa regia, praeter nugas agere possis, non vh 
 dco. Cum autem omnibus et bonis et doctis viris hui( 
 etiam causte nobilissimoe abunde me satisfecisse spe^ 
 rem, etiamsi hoc loco finem respondeudi facerem, ta'^ 
 men ne interea vidcar aliis varietatem potius et acumei 
 tuum, quam immodicara loquacitatem, defugisse, quo 
 voles usque pvogrcdiar: ea tamen brevitate, ut facile 
 appareat, nic iis omnibus perfunctum, si minus quoe 
 dignitas, at saltem quae necessitas, causae requirebat, 
 nunc hominum quorumvis c;iyectationi, vel etiam curi- 
 ositati, morcm gerere. " Hinc alius," inquis, " et major 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 685 
 
 arg'umentorum niihi surget oido." An major eo argu- 
 mentorum oidine quem lex Dei et naturae suppedi- 
 tabat ? Fer opem, Lucina ; parturit Mons Salmasius ; 
 non de nihilo nupsit uxori; foetuin aliquem ingentem 
 exspectate, mortales. " Si is, qui rex est ac dicitur, 
 postulari posset apud aliam potestatem, earn omnino 
 regia majorem esse oporteret; qute autem major statu- 
 etur, banc vere regiam dici, et esse, necesse esset. Sic 
 enim definienda potestas regia: quae summa est in re- 
 pub, et singularis, et supra quam nulla alia agnos- 
 citur." O murem vere montanuni et ridiculum ! Suc- 
 currite, grammatici, grammatico laboranti ; actum est 
 lion de lege Dei aut uaturse, sed de glossario. Quid 
 si sic responderem tibi ? cedant nomina rebus, non est 
 nostrum nomini cavere, qui rem sustulimus ; curent id 
 alii quibus cordi sunt reges ; nos nostra utimur liber- 
 tate : responsura sane baud iniquuni auferres. Verum 
 ut me per omnia ex aequo et bono tecum agere intelli- 
 gas, non ex mea solum, sed ex optimorum olim et pru- 
 dcntissimorum virorum senteutia, respondebo, qui et 
 nomen et potestatem regiam cum potestate Icgum 
 etpopuli majore posse optime consistere judicarunt. 
 Lycurgus imprimis, vir sapientia clarissimus, ciim vel- 
 let maxime potestati regite consulere, ut author est 
 Plato, nullam aliam ejus conservandae rationem inve- 
 nirc potuit, quam ut scnatiis et ephororum, id est, 
 populi potestatem regia majorem in sua patria consti- 
 tueret. Idem sensit Theseus Euripidteus, qui cum 
 Athenarura rex esset, populo tamen Atbeniensi in 
 libertatem cum magna sua gloria vindicato, et potes- 
 tatem popularem extuHt supra regiam, et regnum ni- 
 hilo secius in ilia civitate suis posteris reliquit. Unde 
 Euripides in Supplicibus italoquentem inducit. 
 
 A^fiov KaTtJTijff^ dvTOV itg novap\iav 
 'EXfuS'tpaJffaf ttjvS^ laoiprifov iroXiv. 
 
 " Populum constitui ipsum in raonarchiam, 
 Liberans banc urbem eequale jus sufTragii babcntem." 
 
 Et rursus ad prteconem Thebanum. 
 
 llpiorov (liv tJp^w tov X6y« ipivSwg, ^svt, 
 'Zit]Tiov Tvpavvov iv^d5\ oil yap dpxiTai 
 ' Evug icpoQ avSpbc, dW IKtv^kpa iroXt^, 
 Aij^oQ 5' avdaaii. 
 
 " Primiim incoepisti orationem falso, hospes, 
 Quaerens tyrannum hie, non enim regitur 
 Ab uno viro, sed est libera hoec civitas, 
 Populus autem regnat. 
 
 Hoec illc ; ciim tamen rex in ilia civitate et esset, et 
 dictus esset. Testis est etiara divinus Plato in epistola 
 octava, " Induxit Lycurgus senatum et ephororum 
 potestatem, r^c /SacrjAticj/e apxrig ffmrripiov, potestati regise 
 maxime salutarem, quae hac latione per tot ssecula 
 magna cum laude conservata est ; postquam lex domina 
 rex facta est honiinum." Lex autem rex esse non po- 
 test, nisi sit qui in regem quoque, si usus venerit, lege 
 possit agere. Sic temperatani potestatem regiam Sici- 
 liensibus commendat, iXtvitpia ytyve^Sw /xtrd fiaaiXiKrji; 
 apx>)c, &c. " sit libertas cum regia potestate ; sit regia 
 potestas vTTivSfvvoe reddendic rationi obnoxia; domine- 
 
 tur lex etiam regibus, siquid praeter legem fecerint." 
 Aristoteles denique, Politicorum tertio, " In repub. 
 Spartanorum videtur," inquit, " regnum esse maxime, 
 eorum regnorum quae sunt secundum legem :" omnes 
 autem regui species secundum legem luisse ait, praeter 
 unam, quam vocat iraujiaaiXiiay, neque talem usquam 
 extitisse meminit. Tale itaque regnum maxime om- 
 nium proprie et dici et esse regnum sensit Aristoteles, 
 quale apud Spartanos fuit; talem proinde regem non 
 minus proprie et dici et esse regem, ubi tamen populus 
 supra regem erat, negare non potuit. Ciim tot tan- 
 tique authores et nomen et rem regiam sua fide salvam 
 regi proestiterent, etiam ubi populus penes se summam 
 potestatem, tametsi exercere non solet, tamen, quoties 
 opus est, obtinet, noli tam angusto animo summae re- 
 rum grammaticalium, hoc est vocabulorum, sic timere, 
 ut potius quam glossarii tui ratio turbetur, aut detri- 
 menti quid capiat, prodere libertatem omnium, et 
 rempub. velis. Scito etiam dehinc, nomina rebus ser- 
 vire, non res nominibus; ita plus sapies, nee " in in- 
 finitum," quod metuis, " ibis. Frustra ergo Seneca 
 tria ilia genera statuum ita describit." Frustretur Se- 
 neca, nos liberi simus ; et nisi fuUor, non ii sumus quos 
 flores Senecoe in servitutem reducant. Seneca autem, 
 si summam in uno potestatem esse dicit, " populi," 
 tamen " eam" dicit " esse," coram issam videlicet regi ad 
 salutem omnium, non ad perniciem ; nee mancipio, sed 
 usu duntaxat, a populo datam. " Non jam ergo per 
 Deum reges regnant, sed per populum." Quasi vero 
 Deus non ita regat populum, ut cui Deus vult, regnum 
 tradat populus; cum in ipsis institutionibus imperator 
 Justinianus palam agnoscat, exinde CtEsares regnasse, 
 ex quo " lege regia populus iis et in eos omne imperium 
 suum, et potestatem, concessit." Sed quousque ista re- 
 coquemus, qute jam toties refutavimus.'' Rursus, quod 
 ingenium tuum importunum et agreste, mores odiosis- 
 simos indicat, in nostra repub. quae ad te nihil pertinet» 
 alienigena ct peregriniis curiosum te infers. Accede 
 igitur, ut te tanto ardelione dignum est, cum insigni 
 solcecismo. " Quicquid," inquis, " illi perditi homines 
 dicunt, ad populum decipiendum pertinent." O scele- 
 rate ! hoccine erat, quod diminutus capite grammaticus 
 in nostram rempub. te ingerere cupiebas, ut soloecismis 
 nos tuis et barbarismis oppleres ? Verum tu die, popu- 
 lum quo modo decepimus? " Forma regiminis quam 
 introduxere non popularis est, sed militaris." Ista- 
 scilicet grex ille perfugarum mercedula conductum 
 jussit te scribcre : non tibi igitur, qui ea blatis, quorum 
 nihil intelligis, sed iis qui te pietio conduxerunt, re- 
 spondebitur. Quis " ordinen. procerum e parlamento 
 cjecit? an populus?" Immo populus; eoque facto ser- 
 vitutis jugum a cervicibus suis baud ferendum dejecit. 
 Ipsi milites, a quibus hoc factum dicis, non exteri, sed 
 cives, et magna ])ai-s populi fuere ; idque caetero ferh 
 consentiente populo et cupiente, nee sine parlamenti 
 etiam authoritate, fecerunt. " An populus," inquis, 
 " plebeium ordinem domus inferioris mutilavit, alios 
 fugando, &c." Populus inquam ; quod enim senatus 
 pars potior, id est sanior, fecit, in quo vera populi po- 
 testas residebat, quid ni id populum fecisse dicam ? 
 Quid si servire, quid si vaenum rempub. dare, in senatu 
 
686 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO 
 
 plures malucrint, annon id impedire, et libertatem rc- 
 tinere, si in iiianu est sua, pauciuribus licebit ? " At 
 duces hoc fecerunt cum niilitibus suis." Habcnda igitur 
 gratia est duel bus, quod operas et tabernarios Londi- 
 iienses, qui pauIo antd, veluti ftex ilia Clodiana, ipsaru 
 curiam obsedcrant, ferocientcs repulorint, rcipub. iiou 
 dcfuerint. Tunc idcirco jus parlanionli primariuni ac 
 proprium, ut libertati imprimis ])opuli sive pace sive 
 bello prospiciat, " militarem dominationem " appella- 
 bis? Venini hoc a perduellibus dici, qui tibi ista dict;l- 
 runt, non est mirum ; sic enim pcrditissima olim Anto- 
 niorum factio senatum Romanum, contra bostcs patrire 
 ad sag'a euntem, " Castra Pompeii" appellare solebat. 
 Jam Tcro fortissimo nostri excrcitu> ductori Cromuello, 
 quod is amicorum Iteto agmine stipatus, non sine fa- 
 vore populi secundo, votis etiam bonorum omnium pro- 
 sequentibus, in bcllum Hibernicum Deo gratissimum 
 proficisceretur, invidisse tuos gaudeo ; auditis enim 
 postea tot ejus victoriis, jam arbitror eos livore conta- 
 buisse. Multa j)rretereo, quie de Romanis militibus 
 prolixe nugaris : quod sequitur a veritate remotissimum 
 esse quis non videt? " Populi," inquis, " potestas esse 
 desinit, ubi regis esse incipit." Quo tandem jure? cum 
 satis constet, omnes fer^ ubique gentium reges sub 
 certis conditionibus traditum sibi regnum a populo ac- 
 cipere : qnibus si rex non steterit, cur ilia potestas, 
 quop fiduciaria t.intum fuit, ad populum redire non de- 
 beat, tam a rege quam a consule, vel ab alio quovis 
 magistratu, tu velim doceas : nam quod " salutem 
 reipub. id " ais " postulare," ineptias dicis ; cum salutis 
 ratio eadem omnino sit, sive a rege, sive ab optimatibus, 
 sive a triumviris, impcrio sibi tradito perperam utenti- 
 bus, " potestas ilia ad populum revertatur ; " posse 
 autem a magistratibus quibuscunque, praeterquam a 
 rege solo, ad populum reverti ipse concedis. Sane si 
 neque regi, neque ullis magistratibus, imperium in se 
 populus mentis compos dederit, nisi tantummodo com- 
 munis omnium salutis causa, nihil potest obstare quo 
 minus, ob causas plane contrarias, ne interitus omnium 
 sequatur, baud secus regi quam aliis magistratibus, quod 
 dedit imperium adimerepossit: quid quod uni etiam faci- 
 liiis quam pluribus ademerit ? et potestatem in se plus- 
 quam fiduciariam cuiquam mortalium tradere summae 
 esset insaniae : neque crcdibile est ullum ab orbe terrarum 
 condito populum, qui quidem suae spontis esset, adeo 
 misere desipuisse, ut vel oninem prorsus potestatem ab 
 se alienaret, aut suis magistratibus concrcditam, sine 
 causis gravissimis, ad se revocaret. Quod si discor- 
 diae, si bella intestina, inde oriantur, regium certe jus 
 nullum inde oritur illius potcstatis per vim retinen- 
 dip, quam populus suam sibi vendicat. Ex quo effi- 
 citur, quod ad prudcntiam populi, non ad jus regis, 
 referendum est, quodque nos non negamus, " rectorem 
 non facile mutandum esse:" nunquam ergo aut nulla 
 prorsus de causa, nullo modo sequitur : neque tu adhuc 
 quicquam allegasti, neque jus ullum regis expromp- 
 sisti, quo minus liceat consentienti populo rcgeni baud 
 idoneum regno privare ; siquidem id, quod etiam in 
 Gallia tua saepius factum est, sine tumultu ac civili 
 bello fieri possit. Cum itaquc salus populi suprema 
 lex sit, non salus tyranui, ac proindc populo in tyran- 
 
 num, non tyranno in populum, prodessc debeat, tu, 
 qui tam sanctam legem, tam augustam, tuis pranstigiis 
 perverterc cs ausus, qui legem inter homines suprcmani, 
 et populo maxini^ salutarem, ad tyrannorum duntaxat 
 impunitatcm valere voluisti, tu inquam scito, quando- 
 quidem Angli " enthusiastae, et enthei, et vatcs," totif - 
 tibi sumus, me vale scito, Deuni tibi atque homim 
 tanti piaculi ultores imminere : quanquam universum 
 genus humanum subjicere tyrannis, id est, quantum in 
 te fuit, ad bestias damnare, hoc ipsum scelus tam ini- 
 mane sua partim in te ultio est, suis tc furiis quocuii- 
 que fugis terrarum, atque oberras, vel citiiis vel serin 
 insequetur; et pejore etiam ea, quam nunc iusanis, 
 insania agitabit. Venio nunc ad alterum argumcntum 
 tuum, priorishaud dissimile; si populo resumere licerct 
 potestatem suam, " nihil turn esset discriminis inter 
 popularem et regalem statum, nisi quod in hoc singuli 
 rectores constituuntur, in illo plures :" quid si nihil 
 aliud interesset, numquid inde respub. detrimenti ca- 
 peret ? Ecce autem alise differentiae a temetipso alla- 
 tae, "temporis" nimirum " et successionis ; ciim popu- 
 larcs magistratus aiinui fere sint," reges, nisi quid 
 committant, perpetui; et iu eadem plerunque familia. 
 Differant ergo inter se aut non differant, de istis enim 
 minutiis nihil laboro, in hoc certe conveniunt, quod 
 utrobique populus, quoties id interest reipub., potest 
 quam alteri potestatem, salutis public;?, causfi, tradidc- 
 rat, cam ad se rursus ncc injuria, eandem ob causam, 
 revocare. " At lege regia Romoe sic appellata, de qua 
 in institutis, populus Romanus principi, et in eum, omno 
 imperium suum et potestatem concessit." Nempe vi Ca- 
 sarumcoactus,qui honestolegistitulosuam tantummodo 
 violentiam sanxerunt; de quo supra, id quod ipsi juris- 
 consulti in hunc locum non dissimulant. Quod igitur 
 legitime, et volente populo, concessum non est, id rc- 
 vocabile quin sit non dubitamus. Yeruntamen ration! 
 maxime consentaneum est, populum Romanum non 
 aliam potestatem transtulisse in principem, atque priiis 
 concesserat suis magistratibus ; id est imperium Icgiti- 
 mnm et revocabile, non tjrannicum et absurdum ; quo- 
 circa et ccnsularem et tribunitiam potestatem C;esares 
 recepere; dictatoriam nemo post Julium; populum in 
 circo adorare etiam solebant, ut ex Tacito Claudiano 
 supra meminimus. Yeruni ut " multi olim privati se 
 in scrvitutem alteri vendidcrunt, sic potest populus 
 universus." equitem ergastularium et maugoncm," 
 patriae etiam tuae aeternum opprobrium ! quern servitu-^ 
 tis tam foedura procuratorem ac lenonem publicum' 
 etiam servitia infima cujusvis catastraR abhorrere at- 
 que conspuere deberent! San6 si populus hunc in mo- 
 dum se regibus mancipasset, posset ct reges eundem 
 populum alteri cuivis domino mancipare, aut pretio 
 addicere ; et tamen constat regem ne patrimoiiium 
 quidem coronae posse alienare. Qui igitur coronae, 
 quod a'iunt, et patrimonii regii, usum fructum solum a 
 populo concessum habct, is populi ipsius manceji- 
 erit ? Non si pertusis auribus utrisquc pcrforatus equt- 
 non si gypsatis pcdibus cursitarcs, tam esses omnium 
 servorum vilissimus, quam nunc es, hnjus tam puden- 
 dae author sententioe. Perge pocnas tuorum sceloruni 
 invitus, quod nunc facis, de temetipso sumcrc. Multu 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 687 
 
 [lostremo de jure belli balbutis, quae hie locum non 
 liabent; nam neque Carolus nos bello vicit, et majores 
 <jiis, etsi maxime vicissent, isti tameu juri saepiiis re- 
 mmtiaverant; nee vero tam unquam victi f'liimus, ut 
 nos in eorum nomen, illi in nostras leges, non vicissim 
 jurarent; quas eiim Carolus insigniter violasset, vel 
 olim victorem, vel nunc regem perjurum, priiis ab ipso 
 lacessiti armis debellavimus : ex tua autem sententia 
 " quod armis quoeritur, transit in ejus dominium qui 
 acquisivit." Sis itaque deinceps hac in parte quam 
 voles verbosus, sis, quod in Solino dudiim f'uisti, exer- 
 citator Plinianus, blateronum omnium verbosissimus, 
 quicquid exinde argutaris, quicquid turbas, quicquid 
 rabbinicaris, quicquid rauces, ad finem usque hujus 
 capitis, id totum non jam pro rege devicto, scd pro 
 nobis divina ope victoribus, contra rcgem desudare te 
 scias. 
 
 CAPUT VII. 
 
 Propter duo incommoda sane maxima, et pro tuo 
 pondere gravissima, potestatem populi esse regia ma- 
 jorem proximo capite negasti : quippc, si concederes, 
 quiereudum regi aliud noraen esset, translato in popu- 
 lum regis vocabulo ; et partitiones queedam politicae 
 conturbarentur : quorum alteruni vucabularii dispen- 
 dium lorct, altcrum tuorum crux politicorum. Ad ea 
 sic a nobis responsum est, ut primum salutis et liber- 
 tatis nostra*, deinde etiam nomenclaturte tuoe et poli- 
 ticcs, habita nonnulla ratio esset. Nunc " aliis rati- 
 onibus evincendum esse" ais, " regom a sibi subjectis 
 judicari non posse, quarum hrec erit maxime potens et 
 valida, quod rex parem in suo regno non habeat." 
 Quid ais? non habet rex in suo regno parem? quid 
 ergo illi duodecim vetustissimi IVancioe pares? an 
 fabuloe sunt et nugte ? an frustra et ad ludibrium sic 
 nominati ? Cave istam viris Gallia; principibus con- 
 tumeliam dixeris. An quia inter se pares ? quasi vero 
 nobilitatis totius Gallicte duodcnos tantum inter se 
 pares esse, aut dicendos idcirco Francite pares, existi- 
 mandum sit. Quod nisi revcra sint regis Franciw pares, 
 quod cum eo rempub. pari jure atquc consilio adminis- 
 tret, vide ne in Francioe regno potiiis quam in nostra 
 repub. quod unicum tua interest, glossario illudatur. 
 Age vero, fac planum, non esse regi in regno suo pa- 
 rem. " Quia," inquis, " populus Romanus post reges 
 exactos, duos constituit consulcs, non uniim ; ut si 
 unus peccaret, coerceri a collega posset." Vix fingi 
 quicquam potuit ineptius : cur igitur unus duntaxat 
 consulum fasces apud se habuit, non uterque, si ad 
 alterutrum coercendum alter datus erat? quid si etiam 
 iiterque contra rempub. conjurasset, an meliore loco res 
 fuisset, quam si collegam alteri nullum dedissent ? 
 Constat autem et ambos consules, et magistratus omnes, 
 obtemperare senatui semper debuisse, quoties id e re- 
 pub, esse patribus et plebi visum est. Hujus rei Mar- 
 cum Tullium in oratioue pro Sestio locupletissimum 
 testem habeo : a quo simul brevissimam Romanae 
 
 civitatis descriptionera accipe ; quam is et " sapientis- 
 sime constitutam," et omnes bonos cives nosse earn 
 oportere, dicebat, quod idem et nos dicimus. " Majores 
 nostri, cum regum potestatem non tulissent, ita magis- 
 tratus annuos creaverunt, ut consilium senatus reipub. 
 praeponerent sempiternum : deligerentur autem in id 
 consilium ab universe populo; aditusque in ilium sura- 
 mum ordinem omnium civium industrise ac virtuti 
 pateret: senatum reipub. custodem, praesidem, propug- 
 natorem, coUocaverunt : hujus ordinis authoritate uti 
 magistratus, et quasi ministros gravissimi consilii esse, 
 voluerunt." Exemplo illustri esse poterunt Decemviri; 
 qui cum potestate consulari et summa praediti essent, 
 eos tamen omnes simul, etiam renitentes, patrum au- 
 thoritas in ordinem coegit ; consules etiam nonnuUos, 
 antequam magistratum deposuerant, hostes judicatos 
 et contra eos sumpta arraa esse legimus : hostilia enim 
 facientem, esse consulem nemo putabat. Sic bellum 
 contra Antonium consulem senatiis authoritate est 
 gestum : in quo victus pconas capitis dedisset, nisi 
 Octavianus Ccpsar, regnura affectans, evertendee reipub. 
 consilium cum eo iniiset. Jam quod " hoc propriuni 
 esse " ais " majestatis regalis, ut imperium penes 
 unicum sit," baud minus lubricum est, et a te quidem 
 ipso statim refellitur : " Judices," enim " Hebrceorum 
 et singuli, et toto vitte spatio, imperium obtinebant ; 
 scriptura quoque reges eos vocat ; et tamen a syne- 
 drio magno" judicabantur. Ita fit, dum dixisse om- 
 nia vis videri, ut nihil fere nisi pugnantia loquaris. 
 Quaero deinde qualem tu formam regiminis esse 
 dicas, cum Romanum imperium duo simul tresve 
 imperatores habuerunt ; an imperatores tibi, id est 
 reges, an optimates, an triumviri, videntur fuisse? 
 An vero dices Romanum imperium sub Antonio et 
 Vero, sub Diocletiano et Maximiano, sub Constantino 
 et Licinio, non unum imperium fuisse ? Jam ista tua 
 " statuum tria genera" tuismet ipsius argutiis peri- 
 clitantur, si reges isti non fuere : si fuere, non est 
 ergo proprium imperii regii. ut penes unicum sit. 
 " Alter," inquis, " horum si deliquat, potest alter de 
 eo referre ad populum vel ad senatum, ut accusetur 
 et condemnetur." Annon ergo judicat vel populus 
 vel senatus ad quos alter ille refert? Si quid igitur 
 ipse tribuis tibi, collega, opus non erat ad judicandum 
 collegam. Hcu te defensorem, nisi execrabilis potius 
 esses, plane miserandum ! undiquaque ictibus adeo 
 opportunum, ut si forte per lusum destinare quis vellet 
 quovis te loco punctim ferire, vix esse credo ubi temere 
 possit aberrare. " Ridiculum" esse statuis, " regem in 
 se judices dare velle, a quibus capite damnaretur." 
 Atqui ego non ridiculum, sed optimum, tibi oppono 
 imperatorem Trajanum ; qui prtefectum prtetorio Sa- 
 buranum, cum ei insigne potestatis, uti raos erat, pu- 
 gionem daret, crebro sic monuit: "Accipe hunc gladi- 
 um pro me, si recte agam,sin aliter, in me magis, quod 
 moderatorem omnium vel errare minus fas sit." Hsec 
 Dion et Aurelius Victor. Vides ut judicem in se sta- 
 tuerit imperator egregius quamvis non parem. Hoc 
 idem Tiberius per simulationem et vaniloquentiam for- 
 tasse dixisset ; Trajanum autem virum optimum et 
 sanctissimum non id ex animo dixisse quod verum, 
 
688 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 quod jus et fas, esse sentiebat, scelestus ])cii^ sit qui 
 arbitretur. Quanto justius ergtj senatui, cum viribus 
 superior putucrit non parcre, pland ex officii ratione 
 paruit; et jure superiorem est fassus. De quo Piinius 
 in paneg'yrico. " Senatus ut suscipercs quartum con- 
 sulatuin et rogtivit et jussit; imperii hoc verbum, non 
 adulationis esse, obsequio tuo credc:" et paulu post, 
 " boec nenipe intentio tua, ut libertatem revoces ac re- 
 ducas." Quod Trajanus de se, idem senatus de Tra- 
 jano sensit, suamque authoritatcm revcra esse snpre- 
 niam ; nam qui iniperatorem jubere potuit, potuit 
 eundem et judicare. Sic Marcus Aurelius imperator, 
 cum praifectus Syrioe Cassius reg'num ei eripere cona- 
 retur, obtulit se in judicium vel senatui vel populo Ro- 
 mano; paratus regno cedere, siquidem iis ita videretur. 
 Jam vero quis rectius aut melius de jure rejjio existi- 
 mare et statuere queat, qukm ex ore ipso rcgum opti- 
 morum. Profecto, jure naturali, rex quisque bonus vel 
 senatum vel populura habet sibi semper et parem et 
 superiorem: Tyrannus autem cum natura infimus om- 
 nium sit, nemo non illi par atquc superior existimandus 
 est, quicunque viribus plus valet. Quemadmodum 
 enim a vi olim ad leges, duce natura, devcntum est, 
 ita, ubi leges pro nihilo habentur, necessario, eadem 
 etiam duce, ad vim est redeundum. " Hoc sentire," 
 inquit Cicero pro Sestio, " prudentite est; facere, forti- 
 tudinis; et sentire vero et facere, perfectte euniulatoeque 
 virtutis." Maneat hoc igitur in natura, nuUis parasi- 
 torum artibus coucutiendum, rege sive bono, sive malo, 
 vel senatum vel populum esse superiorem. Quod et 
 ipse confiteris, ciim potestatcm regiam a populo in 
 regem translisse dicis. Quam enim regi potestatera 
 dedit, cam natura, ac virtute quadam, vel ut ita dicam 
 virtualiter, etiani cum alteri dederit, tamen in se habet : 
 QufE enim caus:R naturales isto modo per eminentiam 
 quandam quidvis efficiunt, plus semper sute retinent 
 virtutis quam impertiunt; nee impertiendo se exhauri- 
 unt. Vides, quo propiiis ad naluram accedimus, eo 
 evidentiiis potestatem populi supra regiam eminere. 
 Illud etiam constat, populum, modo id ei liberum sit, 
 potestatera regi suam simpliciter et mancipio uunquam 
 dare, neque natura posse dare; sed tantiim salutis et 
 libertatis publicse causa, quam ciim rex procurare de- 
 stiterit, intelligitur populum nihil dedisse ; quia certo 
 fini tantummodo dedit, monente ipsa natura; quem 
 finem si neque natura, neque populus assequitur, non 
 erit magis ratum quod dedit, quam pactum quodvis aut 
 fcedus irritum. His rationibus firmissime probatur 
 superiorem rege esse populum ; unde argumentum hoc 
 tuum, "maxim^ potens et validum, non posse regem 
 judicari, quia parem in suo regno non habet, nee supe- 
 riorem," diluitur. Id enim assumis, quod nuUo modo 
 concedimus. " In popular! statu," inquis, "niagistra- 
 tus, a populo positus, ab eodem ob crimen plecti potest ; 
 iu statu aristocratico optimates, ab iis quos habent col- 
 legas ; sed pro monstro est, ut rex in regno suo cogatur 
 eausam capitis dicere." Quid nunc aliud concludis, 
 quam miserrimos esse omnium et stultissimos, qui re- 
 gem sibi constituunt? Sed quamobrem, quteso, non 
 poterit populus tam regem punire reum, quam popula- 
 rem magistratum, aut optimates.^ An putas onines po- 
 
 pulos, qui sub regibus vivunt, amore scrvitutis usque 
 eo deperiisse, ut, liberi cum essent, servire malueriiit, 
 seque omnes, seque totos, in unius dominium viri sirpe 
 mali stppe stulti ita tradcre, ut contra dominum, si sors 
 ferat, immanissimum, nullum in legibus, nullum in 
 natura ipsa, prcTsidium salutis, aut perfugium, sibi re- 
 liquerint? Cur ergo regibus primo reguum ineuntibus 
 conditiones ferunt ; cur leges etiam dant regnandi ? an 
 ut spemi se eo magis atque irrideri paterentur ? adconc 
 populum universum se ahjicere, se deserere, sibidcessc, 
 spem omnem in uno homine, eoque ferd vanissimo, col- 
 locare ? Cur item jurant reges nihil se contra legem 
 facluros? ut discant nerape miscri mortales, suo maxi- 
 mo malo, solis licere regibus impune pejerare. Id quod 
 hcpc tua nefanda consectaria demonstrant. " Si rex 
 qui eligitur, aliqua vel cum sacramento piomiserit, 
 quae nisi promisisset, fortassc nee sumptus esset, si 
 stare nolit conventis, a populo judicari non potest. Im- 
 mo si subditis suis juraverit in electione, se secundum 
 leges regnijustitiam administraturum, et nisi id faciat, 
 cos sacramento fidelitatis fore solutos, et facto ipso 
 abiturum esse potestate, a Deo non ab hominibus 
 poena in fallentem exposcenda est." Descripsi haec, 
 non ob elegantiam, sunt enim incultissima; nee quod 
 amplius refutationis indigeant, etenim ipsa se refu- 
 tant, se explodunt, se damnant apertissima falsitate sua, 
 atque turpitudine ; sed eo feci, ut ob mcrita tua egregia 
 commendarem te regibus : qui inter officia auke tam 
 multa aliquem dignitatis locum, aut munus idoneum 
 tibi, prospiciant : cum enim alii sint a rationibus, alii 
 a poculis, alii a voluptatibus, tu iis commodissimd sand 
 eris a perjuriis; tu rcgiae non elegantioe, nam iuscitus 
 nimiiim es, sed perfidiae, summus arbiter eris. Yenim 
 ut summam in te stultitiam sunima improbitate con- 
 junctam esse omnes fateantur, expendamus paulo ac- 
 curatiiis prseclara ilia, quse proxime affirmasti : " Rex," 
 inquis, " etsi subditis juraverit in electione, se secun- 
 dum leges regnaturum," et ni faciat, " eos sacramento 
 fidelitatis solutos fore, et se facto ipso abiturum potes- 
 tate," abdicari tamen aut puniri ab iis non poterit. 
 Qui miTiiis, qu»so, rex quam popularis magistratus.^ 
 quia in eo regimine populus non omnem transfundit 
 potestatem suam ad magistratum. An hie igitur in re- 
 gem? cui regnum in se non diutius tradunt, quam id 
 bene gesserit. Tam itaque rex, juratus in leges, reus 
 abjici aut punire poterit, quim popularis magistratus. 
 Nam argumento illo pancratico omnis in regem trans- 
 latte potestatis amplius uti non potcs, quod tuis ipsi- 
 niachinis imprudens arictasti. Cognoscite nunc " aliani 
 potentissimam et invictam ejus rationem cur subditi re- 
 gem"judicare nequeant" quia legibus solutus est, quia 
 leges solus rex omnes fert;" quae cum falsissima esse 
 jam toties probaverim, heec etiam invicta tua ratio cum 
 priorc ad nihilum recidit. Caeterum rex ob delicta 
 qucevis privata, utpote stuprum, adulterium, et similia, 
 si raro plectitur, non tam justitia quam n?quitate id fit, 
 ne plus turbarum ex morte regis, et rerum mutatione, 
 populo eveniat, quam boni ex uno atquc altcro vindi- 
 cato. Ex quo vero omnibus gravis et iutolerandus esse 
 incipit, turn quidem, quoquo possunt modo, judicatum 
 vel injudicatum omnes nationes tyrannum occidere fas 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 689 
 
 esse semper credidere. Unde Marcus Tullius in se- 
 cunda Philippica de Csesaris interfectoribus. " Hi 
 primi cum g-ladiis non in regnum appetentem, sed in 
 regnantera,impetum fecerunt: quod cum ipsum factum 
 per se preeclarum atque divinum est, turn est positum 
 ad iniitandum." Quam hujus tu dissimilis! " Homi- 
 cidium, adulterium, injuria, non ha^c crimina regia 
 sunt, sed privata." Eug'e, parasite, lenones jam omnes 
 et propudia aulica hac voce demeruisti ; quam lepide 
 simul et parasitaris, et eadem opera lenocinaris ! " Rex 
 : adulter bene potest regnare, et homicida, ideoque vita 
 j privari non debet, quia cum vita regno quoque exuere- 
 tur; at nunquam hoc fuit probatum legibus divinis 
 aut hunianis, ut duplex vindicta de uno crimine su- 
 meretur." Os impurum et infame ! eadem ratione nee 
 populares magistratus, nee optimates, ne duplici poena 
 afficerentur, ne judex quidem, aut senator, flagitiosus 
 poenas capite ullas persolvere debebit ; cum vita enim et 
 ipsi suo magistratu privarentur. Ut potestatem, sic 
 majestatem ctiam, populo adiniere et in regera conferre 
 studes ; vicariam si vis et translatitiam, primariam 
 certe non potes, uti nee potestatem. " Crimen," in- 
 quis, " majestatis non potest committere rex adversiis 
 populum suum ; potest autem populns adversiis re- 
 gem." Et tamen rex propter populum duntaxat rex 
 est, non populus propter regem. Populus igitur uni- 
 versus, aut pars major, plus semper rcge debet posse: 
 negas, et calculos ))onis, " plus potest quam singuli, 
 bini, terni, deni,cciitcni, milleni, decies milleni." Esto. 
 " Plus quam dimidia pars populi." Non repugno. 
 " Quid si alterius diniidiae pars altera accedat, annon 
 adhuc plus potent .•'" Minime. Progredere ; quid au- 
 fers abacum, peritissime logista, an progressionem arith- 
 meticam non calles ? Verlit rationts, et " annon rex 
 cum optimatibus plus potestatis habeat," quterit ; ite- 
 rum ncgo, Vertumne, si pro optimatibus proceres in- 
 telligas; quoniam accidere potest, ut nemo inter eos 
 optimatis nomine sit dignus : fit etiam saepius, ut multo 
 plures de plobe sint, qui virtute et sapientia proceres 
 antecellant; quibus ciim pars populi major vel potior 
 accedit, eos universi populi instar esse baud verear 
 dicere. "At si plus quam universi non potest, ergo 
 rex erit tantum singulorum, non omnium universim 
 sumptorum :" recte ; nisi ipsi voluerint. Rationes jam 
 subducito ; comperies te imperite supputando sortem 
 perdidisse. " Dicunt Angli penes populum jus majes- 
 tatis ex origine et natura residere, hoc vero est omnium 
 statu um eversionem inducere." Etiamne aristocratiee, 
 et democratia? ? Credibile sane narras : quid si etiam 
 gynoecocratiae. sub quo statu ferunt te domi propemo- 
 diim vapulare, annon beareut te Angli, O perpusilli 
 homo animi ? sed hoc frustra speraveris; sequissime 
 enim est comparatum, ut qui tyrannidem foris imponere 
 omnibus cupias, ipse domi tuse servitutem servias tur- 
 pissimam, et minime virilem. " Doceamus te oportet," 
 inquis, " quid nomine populi intelligi velimus." Per- 
 multa sunt, qufe te doceri potius oporteret ; nam quse 
 te propius attingunt, videris ea penitus nescire, et 
 praeter literulas nihil unquam didicisse, ne percipere 
 quidem potuisse. Hoc tamen scire teputas, nos populi 
 nomine plebem solum intelligere quod " optimatum 
 
 consessum abrogavimus." At illud est ipsum, quod 
 demonstrat nos populi vocabulo omnes ordinis cujus- 
 cunque cives comprehendere ; qui unam tantummodo 
 populi curiam supremam stabilivimus, in qua etiam 
 proceres, ut pars populi, non pro sese quidem soHs, ut 
 antea, sed pro iis municipiis, a quibus electi fiierint, 
 suffragia ferendi legitimum jus habent. Inveheris 
 deinde in plebem, " ccecam" earn et " brutam, regendi 
 artem non habere; nil plebe ventosius, vanius, levius, 
 mobilius:" Conveniunt in te optime hoec omnia; etde 
 infima quidem plebe sunt etiam vera, de media non 
 item ; quo ex numero prudentissimi fere sunt viri, et 
 rerum peritissimi : cteteros liinc luxus et opulentia, 
 inde egestas et inopia, a virtute et civilis prudentiee 
 studio plerunque avertit. " Plures" nunc esse"modos" 
 asseris " regum constituendorum, qui nihil populo 
 debent hoc nomine," et imprimis illi, " qui regnum 
 habent hiereditarium." At vero servce sint istee na- 
 tiones oportet, et ad servitutem natae, quae talem agnos- 
 cant dominum, cui se sine assensu suo hajreditate ob- 
 venisse credant: pro civibus cert6, aut ingenuis et 
 liberis, haberi non possunt; nee rempub. habere ullam 
 censendae ; quinimmo inter facultates, et possessiones 
 quasi heri sui, et herilis filii, numerandee sunt : nam 
 quod ad jus dominii, quid distent a servitiis etpecoribus 
 non video. Secundo, " qui armis sibi regnum fecit, 
 populum," inquis, " non potest authorem agnoscere 
 imperii prolati vel usurpati." At nobis non de victore, 
 sed de subacto rege, sermo nunc est ; quid victor pos- 
 sit alias disputabimus; tu hoc age. Quod autem regi 
 jus patrisfaniilias antiquum toties attribuis, ut inde 
 " absolutee potestatis in regibus exemplum" petas, dis- 
 simillimum id esse jam saepius ostendi: Aristoteles etiam 
 ille, quem crepas, vel initio politicorum, si legisscs, idem 
 te docuisset : ubi ait male eos judicare, qui inter pa- 
 trem familias et regem pariim interesse existimant ; 
 " regnum enim a familia, non numero solum, sed specie 
 differre." Postquam enim pagi in oppida et urbes cre- 
 vere, evanuit paulatim jus illud regale familise, et ag- 
 nosci desitum est. Hinc scribit Diodorus, 1. 1. regna 
 antiquitus dari non regum filiis, sed iis quorum maxima 
 in populum beneficia extiterunt. Et Justinus, " Prin- 
 cipio rerum, gentium nationumque imperium penes 
 reges erat; quos ad fastigium hujus majestatis, non 
 ambitio popularis, sed spectata inter bonos moderatio, 
 provehebat." Unde perspicuum est, in ipso gentium 
 principio, imperium paternum et haereditarium virtuti 
 et popularistatimjuri cessisse. Quae origo imperii regii 
 et ratio et causa maxim^ naturalis est. Ob cam enim 
 ipsam causara primo homines in unum convenere, non 
 ut unus omnes insultaret, sed ut, quocunque alterum 
 laedente, ne lex deesset, neve judex inter homines, quo 
 Ifesus aut defendatur aut saltern vindicetur. Dispersos 
 olim homines et dispalatos disertus aliquis, et sapiens, ad 
 vitam civilem traduxit: tu " hoc maxim6 consilio," in- 
 quis, " ut in congregatos imperium haberet." Nim- 
 brotum fortasse intelligis, qui tyrannorum primus fu- 
 isse dicitur: vel hoec tua solius malitia est, quae in illos 
 olim magnos et excelsi animi vires cadere non potuit ; 
 tuum solius commentum, a nemine, quod sciam, ante 
 te traditum ; cum utilitatem et salutem generis humani, 
 
690 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 nou sua commoda, suumque dominatum, respexisse 
 illos primos urbium conditorcs antiquoruin omnium 
 roonumentis proditum sit. Unum praetcrire non pos- 
 sum, quo tu veluti emblcmate quodam exornare credo 
 caetera hujus capitis voluisti : si " consulcm," iiiquis, 
 in judicium venire oportuisset, priusquam magistratu 
 abisset, dictator ad lioc creandus fuisset," cum initio 
 dureris, " ideo colleg^am ei fuisse datura." Sic tua sem- 
 per inter se congruunt, ct quid dc quaquc re dicas, 
 quidve scribas, quam nullius moraenti sit, paginis fere 
 singulis declarant. " Sub antiquis rcgibus Anglo- 
 saxonicis plebeni," ais, " ad comitia regni nunquam 
 vocari solitam esse." Si quis nostrorum hoc affirmas- 
 set, possem eum baud multo negotio erroris arguere ; 
 tua ista peregrina affirmationc res nostras hallucinante 
 minus moFeor. Et de communi regum jure quae ha- 
 buisti hflpc fere sunt. Reliqua mnlta,nam et saepissim^ 
 de%ius esse soles, prn?termitto, vel quie fundamcnto ni- 
 tuntur nullo, vel qute extra causam posita sunt : non 
 enim id operam do, ut tibi par esse loquacitate videar. 
 
 CAPUT VIII. 
 
 Si de communi regum jure, Salmasi, qute sentires, 
 ca sine contumelia cujusquam protulisses, quamvis in 
 hac rernm apud Anglos mutatione, tanien, cum libertate 
 scribendi uterere tua, neque erat cur quisquam Anglo- 
 rum tibi succenseret, neque in asserenda, quam tueris, 
 sententia minus effecisses. Nam si hoc et Mosis et 
 Cbristi pneceptum est, " omnes regibus suis tam bonis 
 quam malis subjici, sive Hispanos, sive Gallos, sive 
 Ttalos, sive Germanos, sive Anglos, sive Scotos," quod 
 supra (p. 127.) affirmabas, quid attinebat te, exterum 
 ct ignotum, jura nostra balbutire, eaque velle nobis e 
 cathedra quasi schcdulas tuas, et miscellanea, preelegere, 
 quae utcunque legibus divinis debere cedere multis 
 autea verbis docueras. Nunc satis constat non tam 
 tuopte ingenio ad causam regiam adjecisse te animum, 
 quam partim pretio, pro ejus, qui te conduxit, copia 
 maximo, partim spe pracmii cujusdam majoris, conduc- 
 tum fuisse, ut Anglos vicinorum ncmini molestos, re- 
 rum tantummodo suarum arbitros, libello infami lace- 
 rares. Hoc nisi esset, quenquamne tanta credibile est 
 impudentia esse aut insania, ut longinquus et extraneus 
 immergere se gratis in res nostras, ad partes etiam se 
 adjungere, non dubitaret ? Nam quid tua, malum, re- 
 fert, quid rerum Angli inter se gerant? Quid tibi vis, 
 Ole, quid tibi quseris.^ nihilne domi babes quod ad te 
 j)ertinet? Utinam eadem haberes, quae habuit ille no- 
 tissimus in epigrammate Olus; et fortasse habes; dig- 
 nus profecto es. An uxor tua stimulatrix ilia, quae ut 
 in gratiam exulis Carol i hiec scribcres etiam currentcm 
 incitasse fertur, ampliores forte in Anglia professiones, 
 et honoraria nescio quae, redeunte Carolo, ominata tibi 
 est .' At scitote, foemina virque, non esse locum in An- 
 glia neque lupo neque lupi domino. Unde mirum nou 
 est te toties in molossos nostros tantam rabiem effudissc. 
 Qnin redis ad illustres illos in Gallia titulos tuos, et 
 
 imprimis ad famelicum ilium lupi dominatum, dcinde 
 ad consistorium illud regis Christianissinii sacrum ; ni- 
 mis longo intervallo coiisiliarius peregre abcs a patria. 
 Verum ilia, quod plane video, neque te desiderat neque 
 consilia tua; ne cum rodires quidem paucis ab bine 
 annis, et culinam cardinalitiam olfacere et sectari 
 coepisses: sapit mehercule, sapit, teque oberrare semi- 
 virum Galium cum uxore viro, et refertissimis inaniarum 
 scriniis, facile sinit; donee stipcm sive equiti gram- 
 matisttp, sive illustri Hippocritico, satis largam alicubi 
 gentium inveneris ; si cui fcrt animus rcgi vel civitati, 
 doctorcm erraticum et venalem mercede maxima liceri. 
 Sed eccum tibi licitatorem ; rendibilis necne sis, et 
 quanti, jam statim videbimus. " Pertendunt," inqui», 
 " parricidae, regni Anglicani statum mixtum esse, non 
 mer6 regium." Pcrtendit idem sub Ed vardo 6to Smithus 
 noster, jurisconsultus idem bonus, et politicus, quem. 
 fuisse parricidam non dices, ejus libri fere initio, quem 
 de repub. Anglicana scripsit ; neque id de nostra solum, 
 sed de ?Jmni pene repub. idque ex Aristotelis sententia 
 verum esse affirmat ; neque aliter ullam rempub. stare 
 posse. At enim, quasi piaculum esse crederes quic- 
 quam dicere sine repugnantiis, ad priores illas et jam 
 tiitissimas foede revolveris. " Nullani gentem " ais 
 " esse, nee fuisse unquam, quaR regis appellatione non 
 intellexerit eam potestatem quce solo Deo minor est, 
 quoeque solum Deum judicem haberet;" et taraen paulo 
 post fateris, " nomen regis datum vel olim fuisse ejus- 
 raodi potestatibus et magistratibus, qui plenum et libe- 
 rum jus non haberent, sed a populi nutu dependens," 
 ut " suffetes Carthaginiensium, judices Hebraeorum, 
 reges Lacedacmoniorum," et postremo " Arragonen- 
 sium." Satisne belle tibi constas ? Tum quinque mo- 
 narchice species ex Aristotele reccnses, quarum una 
 tantum jus illud obtinuit, quod tu regibus commune 
 omnibus esse dicis. De qua baud serael jam dictum est, 
 nullum ejus exemplum vel ab Aristotele allatum, vel 
 usquam extitisse : quatuor rcliquas, et legitimas, et le- 
 gibus fuisse minores, dilucide ostendit. Primum horum 
 erat regnum Laconicum, et maxime quidem, ejus sen- 
 tentia, regnum eorum quatuor quae legitima erant. 
 Secundum erat barbariciim, hoc solo diuturnum quia 
 legitimum, et volentc populo : nolente autem, onini> 
 rex contiuuo non erit re.x sed tyrannus, si invito populo 
 regnum retinuerit, eodem teste Aristotele, J. 5. Idem 
 de tertia regum specie dicendum est, quos ille aesjm- 
 netas vocat, electos a populo, et ad certum plerunque 
 tempus, certasque causas, quales fere apud Komanos 
 fuere dictatores. Quarta species eorum est, qui heroicis 
 temporibus regnabant, quibus ob egregia merita reg- 
 num ultro a populo delatum erat, sed legitimum tamen ; 
 neque ver6 hi nisi volente populo regnum tenebant, 
 nee alia re magis differre has quatuor regni species a 
 tjrannide ait, quam quod illic volente, hie invito, po- 
 pulo regnetur. Quinta denique regni species, qu;r 
 7rn/i/3a<nX«'a dicitur, et est cum summa potestate, quale 
 tu jus regum omnium esse vis, a philosopho plane dam- 
 natur, ut neque utile, neque justum^ neque naturalc, 
 nisi sit ut populus ferre possit istiusmodi regnum, 
 iisque deferat qui virtute aliis omnibus long^ prat>lu- 
 ccnt. Hncc, 3tio politicorum, cuivis obvia sunt. Veriim 
 
 I 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 691 
 
 tu, credo, ut vel serael ingeniosus et florid us esse vide- 
 rere, " has quinque monarchise species quinque zonis" 
 niundi assiniilare gestiebas ; " Inter duo extrema poten- 
 tia regalis tres aliae species interpositce mag-is tempe- 
 ratfe videntur, ut inter zonas torridam et frigidam, quae 
 medioe jacent." Festivum caput! quain pulchras nobis 
 similitudines semper concinnas ! Tu igitur, quo reg- 
 num " absolutae potestatis" ipse damnas, ad zonam 
 frigidam hinc ocyus amolire ; qute post adventum illic 
 tuum plus duplo frigebit : nos interim a te novo Archi 
 mede sphaeram illam, quam describis, mirabilem ex- 
 pectamus, in qua duae sint extremae zonte, una torrida, 
 altera frigida, tres mediae temperatae. " Reges," in- 
 quis, " Laced aemoniorum in vincula conjici fas erat, 
 morte multari fas non erat." Quare? an quia damna- 
 tum capite Agidem lictores et peregrini milites, rei no- 
 ▼itate perculsi, regem ducere ad mortem non esse fas 
 existimabant? Et populus quidem Spartanus ejus mor- 
 tem eegr^ tulit, non quod rex capitali supplicio affectus 
 fuerit, sed quod bonus, et popularis, factione divitum 
 judicio illo circumventus esset. Sic itaque Plutarcbus, 
 "primus rex Agis ab ephoris est morte multatus;" 
 quibus verbis non quid fas, sed quid factum sit, tan- 
 tummodu narrat. Nam qui regem in jus ducere, vel 
 etiam in vincula possunt, illos non posse eundera sup- 
 plicio ultimo afficere, puerile est credere. Accingeris 
 jam tandem ad jus regum Anglicorum. " Rex," in- 
 quis, " in Anglia unus semper fuit." Hoc eo dicis, quia 
 modo dixeras, " rex non est nisi unus sit et unicus." 
 Quid si ita est, aliquot sane quos credebam Angliae 
 reges fuisse, non erant : nam ut multos omittam Sax- 
 onicorum, qui consortes imperii vel filios vel fratres 
 habuere, constat Henricum 2dura d stirpe Normanica 
 cum filio regnasse. " Ostendant,' inquis, " aliquod 
 regnum sub unius imperio, cui non potestas absoluta 
 adjuncta fuerit, in quibusdam tamen magis remissa, in 
 aliis magis intenta." Ostende tu potestatem absolutam 
 remissam, asine; annon absoluta est summa ? Quomo- 
 do ergo summa et remissa simul erit .'* quoscunque 
 fateberis reges cum remissa potestate esse, eos non esse 
 cum absoluta facile vincam ; inferiores proinde esse 
 populo natura libero, qui et suus ipse legislator est, et 
 potestatem regiam vel intendere, vel remittere, potest. 
 Britannia an tota olim regibus paruerit, incertum : 
 verisimilius est, prout tempora ferebant, nunc banc, 
 nunc illam, reipub. formam adbibuisse. Hinc Tacitus, 
 " Britanni olim regibus parebant, nunc per principes 
 factionibus et studiis trabuntur." Deserti a Romanis, 
 XL circiter annos sine regibus fuere: " regnum" ita- 
 que " perpetuum," quod affirmas, antiquitus non fuit; 
 fuisse autem haereditarium praecise nego ; quod et re- 
 gum series, et mos creaudi, eorum demonstrat : disertis 
 enim verbis petuntur populi suffragia. Postquamenim 
 rex consuetum juramentum dedit, accedens archiepis- 
 copus ad quatuor partes exstructi suggesti, toties rogat 
 populum universura bis verbis, " Consentire vultis de 
 babendo ipsum regem ?" plane ac si Romano more 
 dixisset, Vultis, jubetis, hunc regnare? quod opus non 
 foret, si regnum jure esse haereditarium; verura apud 
 reges usurpatio pro jure seepissime obtinet. Tu Caroli 
 belly toties victi jus regium jure belli fundare adniteris : 
 2 Y 
 
 Gulielmus scilicet cognomento " Conqusestor" nos sub- 
 jugavit. At sciunt qui in nostra historia peregrini non 
 sunt, Anglorum opes uno illo preelio Hastingensi non 
 adeo attritas fuisse, quin bellum facile instaurare po- 
 tuissent. Sed regem accipere, quam victorem et tyran- 
 nura pati, malebant. Dant itaque jusjurandum Guli- 
 elmo, se fidem ei servaturos : dat pariter Gulielmus 
 juramentum illis, admotus altari, se omnia, quae per est 
 bonum regem, iis esse vicissim praestiturum. Cum 
 falleret fidem, et rursus Angli arma caperent, diffisus 
 ipse suis viribus, juravit denuo, tactis Evangeliis, anti- 
 quas se leges Angliae observaturum. Si postea igitur 
 Anglos misere afHixit, non id jure belli, sed jure per- 
 jurii, fecit. Certum est, praeterea, jam multis ab hinc 
 saeculis victos et victores in unam gentem coaluisse ; 
 ut jus illud belli, si quod unquam fuit, antiquari jam- 
 diu necesse sit. Ipsius verba morientis, quae ex libro 
 Cadomensi fide dignissimo descripta reddimus, omnem 
 dubitationem tollunt. " Neminem," inquit, " Anglici 
 regni constituo haeredem." Qua voce jus illud belli, 
 simulque illud haereditarium, cum ipso mortuo Guli 
 elmo conclamatum atque sepultum est. Video nunc 
 aliquam te in aula dignitatem, quod praedixi fore, esse 
 adeptum; summus nimirum aulicac astutiae quaestor 
 regius et procurator es factus. Unde hoc quod sequi- 
 tur videris ex officio scribere, vir magnifice. " Siquis 
 praedecessorum regum factionibus procerum, vel se- 
 ditionibus plebis, coactus, aliquid de suo jure remiserit, 
 id non potest successori obesse, quin id iterum sibi vin- 
 dicet." Rect^ mones : itaque si quo tempore majores 
 nostri aliquid de jure suo per ignaviam amisere, an id 
 oberit nobis, eorum posteris ? Pro se illi quidem servi- 
 tutem spondere, si vellent, pro nobis certe non poterant; 
 quibus idem semper jus erit nosmet liberandi, quod illis 
 erat in servitutem se cuilibet tradendi. Miraris " quid 
 faciat," ut " rex Britanniae hodie debeat haberi pro 
 magistratu tantum regni, qui autem alia regua in 
 Christianitate obtinent, plena et libera potestate polle- 
 ant." De Scotia remitto te ad Buchananum,de Gallia 
 etiam tua, ubi hospes esse videris, ad Francogalliam 
 Hotomani, et Girardum Franciae bistoricum, de caeteris 
 ad alios, quorum nulli quod sciam independentes erant: 
 ex quibus de jure regio longe alia poteras didicisse, 
 quam quae doces. Cum jure belli tjrannidem regibus 
 Angliae asserere nequiveris, facis jam periculum injure 
 parasitico. Edicunt reges se regnare " Dei gratia :" 
 quid si Deos se esse edixissent ? te, credo, flaminem 
 facile erant habituri : sic pontifex Cantuariensis " Dei 
 providentia" archiepiscopari prae se tulit. Tune ista 
 fatuitate papam non vis esse regem in ecclesia, ut re- 
 gem coustituere plusquam papam in repub. possis ? At 
 in regni statutis appellatur " rex dominus noster." 
 Mirus tu quidem statutorum nostrorum nomenculator 
 repent^ evasisti; nescis tamen multos dicidominosqui 
 non sunt ; nescis quam iniquum sit ex titulls honorariis, 
 ne dicam adulatoriis, de jure et veritate rerum statuere. 
 Eodem refer quod " parlamentum regis" dicitur : nam 
 et fraenum regis vocalur; adeoque non magis rex par- 
 laraenti est dominus, quam equus est sui dominus fraeni. 
 At " cur non regis parlamentum, cum ab eo convoce- 
 tur." Dicam tibi, quia convocatur etiam senatus a 
 
692 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 consule, nequc proptcrea domiiius illius coiicilii crat. 
 Quod itaque rex parlamciituni coiivocat, id facit pro 
 officio suo ac inuiierc, quod a populo accepit, ut ctiani, 
 quos convocat, cos de arduis reg-iii iicgotiis consulcrct, 
 uon de suis : aut siqua dici sua possuiit, dc iis postrcmo 
 semper loco agi solitum erat; ad arbitriuni etiam par- 
 lamenti, non suum. Nee vero ig'iiorant, quorum id in- 
 terest scire, parlamentum sive vocatum, sive non voca- 
 tum, bis intra vcrtentcni annum antiquitus ex lege 
 potuisse convcnirc. At " regis etiam leges nuncupan- 
 tur." Suntistce qiiidem ad regem phalcrae; rex autcm 
 Anglias legem ferre per se potest nullam ; neque cnira 
 ad leges ferendas, sed ad custodiendas u populo latas, 
 constitutus erat. Tuque hie fateris " congregari " id- 
 circo " parlamentum, ut leges conderet." Quapropter 
 et lex terrce vocatur, et lex populi : unde Ethelstanus 
 rex in praefatione legum, ubi omnes alloquitur, " vo- 
 bis," iuquit, " lege vestra" omnia largitus sum : et in 
 formula juramenti, quo reges Anglite antequam crea- 
 rentur obstringere se solebant, sic populiis a regestipu- 
 latur. " Concedis justas leges quas vulgus elegerit?" 
 respondet rex, " Concedo." Erras etiam tota Anglia, 
 " qui regem, quo tempore parlamentum non habetur, 
 plene planeque totum regni statum regio jure guber- 
 nare" ais. Nam neque de bello, neque de pace, quod 
 magni sit momenti, quicquam decernere, ne in jure 
 quidem dicundo curiarum decretis intercedere potest. 
 Jurant itaque judices nihil se in judiciis exercendis nisi 
 ex lege facturos, etiamsi rex ipse dicto, aut mandato, 
 Tel etiam literis proprio annulo obsignatis, aliter impe- 
 raret. Hinc stepius in nostro jure rex " infans" dici- 
 tur ; nee sua jura aut dignitates, nisi pueri aut pupil li 
 in modum, possidere. Spec. Just. c. 4. sect. 22. Hinc 
 etiam illud apud nos crebro dici solitum, " rex non 
 potest facere injuriam." Quod tu hoc modo scelerate 
 interpretaris, " non est injuria quam facit rex, quia in 
 eo non punitur." Admirabilem hominis impudentiam 
 et improbitatem tcI hoc solo interpretamento quis nou 
 perspiciat .'' " Capitis est imperare," inquis, " non 
 membrorum ; rex parlamenti caput est." Siccine nu- 
 garere, si cor tibi saperet ? erras iterum (sed quis finis 
 errorum est luorum ?) in quo regis consiliarios a parla- 
 menti ordinibus non distinguis; nam neque illos qui- 
 dem omnes, horum rero nullos reliquis non probates, 
 eligere debebat rex ; in plebeium autem ordinem ut 
 quenquam eligeret, id sibi ne sumebat quidem unquam. 
 Quibus id muncris populus delegabat, per municipia 
 singuli suffragiis omnium eligebantur; notissima lo- 
 quor, coque brevior sum. " Falsum" autcm " esse" ais, 
 " quod sanctse independentiae cultores asserunt, parla- 
 mentum a populo fuisse institutum." Video jam quid 
 sit cur papatum tanto impetu erertere contendas : alium 
 ipse papatum in alvo, quod aiunt, gestas : quid euim 
 aliud uxor uxoris, lupus ex lupa gravidus,nisi aut por- 
 tentum, aut papatum aliquem novum, parturire te 
 oportebat.-* certe papa germanus quasi jam esses, sanc- 
 tos et sanctas pro arbitrio facis; reges etiam omni pec- 
 cato absolris, et, quasi strato jam hoste, ejus exuviis 
 opimum te ornas. Veriim, quia papa nondum per te 
 plane cecidit, dum libri illius tui " de primatu," se- 
 cunda et tenia, et (orta&se quarta et quinta, pars prodi- 
 
 ( lit, qui iniiltos mortales tcedio prius enecabit, quam 
 tu papam co libro subcgeris, sit satis intcrca, quceso, ad 
 antipnpatum saltcm aliquem posse ascendere; est altera, 
 quam tu, prccter illam independentiam abs te irrisani, 
 sanctorum in numerum serio rctulisti, tyrannis regia : 
 sanctte ergo tyrannidis regiae tu pontifex eris niaxiuius; 
 et nequid dcsit tibi ad papalcs titulos, " scrvus etiam 
 servorum" eris, non Dei, sed aulte; quoniam ilia Che- 
 naani maledictio adhoesisse tibi ad prsecordia vidctur. 
 " Bestiam " appellas " populum." Quid interim c- 
 ipse ? Non enim sacrum illud consistorium, neqii' 
 sanctus ille lupus, te doniinum suum aut populo e\- 
 emcrit aut vulgo; neque effecerit, quin,sicuti es, teter- 
 rima ipse bestia sis. Certe libri sacri prophetici mag- 
 norum regum monarchiam et dominationem immanis 
 bestiee nomine ac specie adumbrare solent. " Sub re- 
 gibus ante Gulielmum," inquis, " nulla parlatncnti 
 mentio exstat." De vocabulo Gallicano altercari non 
 libct: res semper fuit: et Saxonicis temporibus "Con- 
 cilium Sapientum" vocari solitum concedis. Sapientes 
 autem tam sunt plebis quam procerum ex numeru. At 
 " in statuto Mertonensi, vigesimo Hen. tertii, comitum 
 et baronum tantum fit mentio." Ita te semper nomina 
 decipiunt, qui tantum in nominibus aetatem onineni 
 contrivisti ; nobis enim satis constat, et Quinque-por- 
 tuum curatores, et decuriones urbicos, nonnunquam et 
 mercatores, illo saeculo baronum nomine appellatos 
 fuisse ; neque dubium omnino est, quin parlamenti 
 quosque senatores, quantumvis plebeios, aetas ilia jure 
 multo potiore barones nuncupaverit : nam et anno 
 ejusdem regis 52 tam nobiles, quam plebeios, fuisse 
 convocatos, Marlbrigii statutum, sicut et reliqua fere 
 statuta omnia, disertis verbis testantur : quos etiam 
 plebeios comitatuum magnates Edouardus tertius in 
 praefatione Statuti Stapli, quam perdocte pro me reci- 
 tas, vocavit; eos nirairum " qui de singulis civitatibus 
 pro toto comitatu venerant ;" qui quidem plebeium 
 ordinem constituebant, neque erant proceres, aut esse 
 poterant: Tradit etiam liber statutis illis vetustior, qui 
 inscribitur, " Modus habendi parlamenta," licere regi 
 cum plebe sola parlamentum habere, legesque ferre, 
 quamvis comites et episcopi non adsint ; non itidem 
 licere regi cum comilibus et episcopis, si plebs non 
 aderit. Hujus rei ratio quoque adjicitur; quia cum non- 
 dum comites aut episcopi constituti essent, reges cum 
 populo tamen parlamenta et concilia peragebant: delude 
 comites pro se tantum veniunt; plebeii pro suo quis- 
 que municipio. Ex quo iste ordo universi populi no- 
 mine adesse intelligitur; eoque nomine et potiorem, et 
 nobiliorem, ordine patricio, omnique ex parte antepo- 
 nendum esse. Sed " judicandi potestas," inquis, " penda 
 domum plebeiam nuuquam fuit." Neque penes regei 
 Anglite fuit unquam : illud tamen memineris, principle 
 omnem potestatem a populo fluxisse, et etiamnum pro 
 ficisci. Quod et Marcus Tullius de lege agraria pul 
 clierrim6 ostendit. " Cum omnes potestates, imperia 
 curationes, ab universo populo proficisci convenit, tun 
 eas profecto maximd, quae constituuntur ad popul 
 fructum aliquem, et commodum ; in quo et univen 
 deligant, quem populo maxima consulturum puteut, el 
 uiiusquisque studio et suflfragio suo viam sibi ad ben0i 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 693 
 
 ficium irapetrandum munire possit." Vides parlamen- 
 toruni veram originem, illis Saxonicis archivis long-e 
 vetustiorem. Dum in hac luce veritatis et sapientite 
 versari licebit, frustra nobis obscuriorum tetatum tene- 
 bras ofFundere conaris. Quod non eo dici a me quis- 
 quam existimet, quasi ego de authoritaie et prudentia 
 majorum nostrorum detrahi quicquam velim; qui in 
 legibus bonis ferendis plus sane prsestiterunt, quam vel 
 ilia saecula, vel illorum ingenium et cultus, tulisse 
 videatur : et quamvis leges raro non bonas irrogarent, 
 ignorantiae tamen, et imbecillitatis humanae, sibi con- 
 scii, hoc veluli fundamentum legum omnium posteris 
 tradi voluerunt, quod et nostri jurisperiti omnes agnos- 
 cunt, ut si qua lex aut consuetudo legi divinte aut 
 naturali, aut ratroni denique, repugnaret, ea ne pro lege 
 sancita habeatur. Unde tu, etiamsi edictum fortasse 
 aliquod aut statutum in jure nostro, quo regi tyrannica 
 potestas altribuatur, invenire posses, id, cum et divinse 
 Toluntati, et naturee, et rationi, contrarium sit, intelli- 
 gito, ex generali et primaria ista lege nostra quam at- 
 tuli, rescindi apud nos, et ratum non esse ; verum tu 
 jus nullum tale regium apud nos iuvcnies. Cum enim 
 judicandi potestas primitus in ipso populo fuisse con- 
 stet, Anglos autem eam ab se in regem nulla lege re- 
 gia unquam transtulisse, (neminem enim judicare aut 
 solet aut potest rex Anglioe, nisi per leges provisas jam 
 et approbatas: Fleta 1. 1. c. 17.) sequitur eandem ad- 
 huc integram atque totam in populo sitam esse ; nam 
 parium domui aut nunquam traditam, aut recuperari 
 jure posse, non negabis. At, " regis est," inquis, " de 
 vico municipium," de eo " civitatem facere; ergo illos 
 creat qui constituunt domum inferiorem." At inquam, 
 oppida et municipia regibus antiquiora sunt ; etiam 
 in agris populus est populus. Jam Anglicismis tuis 
 magnopere delectamur; Cottntie Court, ^l)c ^utn, 
 IbttnBtcna; mira nempe docilitate centenos Jacobaeos 
 tuos Anglioe nuraerare didicisti. 
 
 " Quisexpedivit" Salmasio suam Hundredam, 
 Picamque " docuit nostra verba conari? " 
 *' Magister artis venter," et Jacoba;i 
 Centum, exulanlis viscera marsupii regis. 
 " Quud si dolosi spes refulserit nummi," 
 Ipse Antichristi qui modo primatum papse 
 Minatus uno est dissipare sufflatu, 
 " Cantabit" ultro cardinalitiunj " melos." 
 
 Longam deinde de comitibus et baronibus disserta- 
 tionem subtexis; utostendas regem esse eorum omnium 
 creatorem, quod facile concedimus, eoquc nomine re- 
 gibus plerunque serviebant; ideoque ne gentis liberoe 
 deinceps judices essent recte providimus. " Potestatem 
 convocandi parlamentum quoties libet, et quando vult 
 dissolvendi, ex omni temporis memoria penes regem 
 esse" afRrmas. Tibine igitur, balatroni mercenario et 
 peregrino, perfugarum dictata exscribenti, an disertis 
 legum nostrarum verbis, fides habenda sit, infm vide- 
 bimus. " At," inquis, " reges Angliae parlamento ma- 
 jus imperium habuisse alio argument© probatur, eoque 
 invincibili ; regis potestas perpetua est et ordinaria, 
 quae per se sine parlamento regnum administrat; par- 
 lamenti extraordinaria est authoritas, et ad certas tan- 
 tiim res, nee sine rege quicquam validi statuere ido- 
 
 nea." Ubinam dicamus vim magnam latere hujus 
 argument!? an in "ordinaria et perpetua?" Atqui 
 minores multi magistratus habent potestatem ordina- 
 riam et perpetuam, quos irenarchas vocamus; an sum- 
 mam ergo babent ? Supra etiam dixi potestatem regi 
 idcirco traditam a populo fuisse, ut videret authoritate 
 sibi commissa ne quid contra legem fiat; utque leges 
 custodiret nostras, non ut nobis imponeret suas : regis 
 proinde potestatem, nisi in regni curiis et per eas, esse 
 nullam : immo populi potius ordinaria est omnis, 
 qui per duodecim viros de omnibus judicat. Atque 
 bine est quod interrogatus in curia reus, " Cui te per- 
 mittis judicandum ?" respondet semper ex more atque 
 lege, " Deo et populo," non Deo et regi, aut regis vi- 
 cario. Parlamenti autem authoritas, quae, re et veri- 
 tate, summa populi potestas in ilium senatum collata 
 est, si extraordinaria est dicenda, id tantiim propter 
 ejus eminentiam dicitur ; alioqui, ut notum est, ipsi 
 ordines appellantur, non extra ordinem ergo; et si non 
 actu, quod aiunt, virtute tamen, perpetuum habent in 
 omnes curias et potestatesordinarias jus atque authori- 
 tatem ; idque sine rege. OfFendunt nunc limatulas, 
 opinor, aures tuas nostrorum barbarae locutiones : 
 cujus ego, si vacaret, aut operae pretium esset, tot bar- 
 barismos hoc uno libro notare possem, quot, si pra 
 merito lucres, profecto omnes puerorum ferulas in te 
 frangi oporteret, nee tot aureos tibi dari, quotilli quon- 
 dam pessimo poetae; colaphos longe plures. "Prodi- 
 gium esse" ais, " omnibus portenti sopinionum monstro- 
 sius, quod fanatici pei-sonam regis a potestate ejus se- 
 jungant." Equidem dicta singulorum non praestitero: 
 personam autem si pro homine vis dici, separari a 
 potestate ejus nee absurd^ posse Chrysostomus, baud 
 fanaticus, docere te potuit ; qui praeceptum Apostoli de 
 potestatibus ita explanat, ut potestatem ibi et rem, non 
 hominem, intelligi asserat. Quidni dicam regem, qui 
 contra leges quid facit, id agere ut privatum vel ty- 
 rannum, non ut regem legitima potestate proeditum ? 
 Tu si uno in homine posse plures essepersonas, easque 
 ab ipso homine sensu et cogitatione separabiles, non 
 intelligis, et seusus communis et latinitatis plane expers 
 es. Sed hoc c6 dicis, ut reges peccato omni absolvas, 
 utque erepto papce primatu indutum te esse existime- 
 mus: "Rex," inquis, "non posse peccare intelligitur, 
 quia peccatum ejus poena non consequitur." Quisquis 
 ergo non punitur, non peccat; nou furtum, sed poena, 
 facit furem ; Salmasius grammaticus non facit soloccis- 
 mos, quia manum ferulae subduxit : post ev«rsum a te 
 papam sint isti sane pontificatus tui canones, vel certS 
 indulgentias tuas, sive sanctse tyrannidis, sive sanctae 
 servitutis, pontifex dici mavis. Congesta extremo 
 capite maledicta tua in " Anglicanae reipub. et ecclesiae 
 statuni" praetereo : hoc enim habent tui similes, homo 
 contemptissime ; ut quidque plurima dignum est 
 laude, id solent per calumniam maxime vituperare. 
 Sed de jure regio apud nos, seu potius de jure populi 
 in regem, ne quid temere affirmasse videar, proferre ex 
 ipsis monumentis non gravabor, quamvis pauca qui- 
 demde multis, ea tamen quibus liquido satis constabit, 
 Anglos ex lege et instituto, et more etiam majorum 
 suorum, regem nuper judicavisse. Post Romanorum 
 
e94 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 ex insula discessum, sui juris Britaniii circitcr aniios 
 40, sine regibus fuere; quos primes crearunt, eoruni 
 nonnullos supplicio atfecere. Britannos eo nomine 
 Gildas, contra quam tu facis, reprcbendit, non quod 
 reges necavere, sed quod injudicatos, vel at ejus ver- 
 bis utar, " non pro veri cxaminatione." Vortigenius 
 eb iueestas ctim filia niiptias, teste Nennio histurico- 
 rum uostrorum post Gildani antiquissinio, damnatur 
 "k beato Gemiano, et omni concilio Britonum," ejus- 
 que filio Guorthcniiro reg'num traditur. Haud multo 
 hcec post Auf^ustini obitum gesta sunt : unde vauitas 
 tua facild redarguitur, qui supra asseruisti, primuni 
 omnium papam, et nominatini Zacbariam, docuisse, 
 judicari reges posse. Circa annum Chrisli 600, Mor- 
 eantius, qui tunc temporis in Cambria regnabat, prop- 
 ter ciedem patrui ab Oudoceo Landaviee episcopo in 
 exilium damnatur; quanquam is exilii sententiam, 
 latifundiis quibusdam ecclesite donatis, redemit. Ad 
 Saxones jam veniamus ; quorum jura cum reperien- 
 tur, facta prcetermittam. Saxones Germanis oriundos 
 raemineris ; qui nee inflnitam aut liberam potestatem 
 regibus dedere, et de rebus majoribus consultare 
 omues solebant ; ex quibus intelligere est, parla- 
 mentum, si solum nomen excipias, etiam apud Sax- 
 onum majores summa autboritate viguisse. Et ab 
 iis quidem concilium sapientum passim nominatur ; 
 ipsis Etbelberti temporibus, quem "decreta,judiciorura 
 juxta exempla Romanorum, cum conciiio sapientum 
 constituisse" memorat Beda; sic Edwinus Northanym- 
 brorum, Inas occidentalium Saxonum, rex, " habito 
 cum sapientibus et senioribus concilio," novas leges 
 promulgavit; alias Aluredus edidit " ex concilio" item 
 " prudentissimorum ; atque iis," inquit, " omnibus pla- 
 cuit edici earum observationes." His atque aliis multis 
 hujusmodi locis luce clarius est, delectos etiam ex plebe 
 conciliis maximis interfuisse; nisi siquis proceres solos 
 sapientes esse arbitratur. Extat etiam apud nos peranti- 
 quus legum liber, cui titulus " Speculum Justiciario- 
 rum," in quo traditur primos Saxones, post Britanniam 
 subactam, ciim reges crearent, ab iis jusjurandum exi- 
 gere consuevisse, se, ut quemvis alium e populo, legibus 
 acjudiciis subjectos fore, cap. 1. sect. 2. Ibidem ait jus 
 esse et aequum ut rex suos in parlamento babcat pares, 
 qui de injuriis, quas vel rex vel regina fecerit, cognos- 
 cerent ; regnante Aluredo sancitum legibus fuisse, ut 
 singulis annis parlamentum bis Londini, vel eo saepius, 
 si opus esset, haberetur. Quae lex cum pessimo juris 
 iieglectu in desuetudinem abiisset, duabus sub Edouar- 
 do 3''" sanctionibus renovata est. In alio etiam antiquo 
 manuscripto, qui " Modus Parlamenti" inscribitur, hsec 
 legimus; si rex parlamentum prius dimiserit, quam ca 
 omnia transig'antur quorum causa concilium indictum 
 erat, perjurii reus erit; et juramentum illud, quod reg- 
 num initurus dederat, viola.sse censebitur. Quomodo 
 cnim, quod juratus est, justas leges concedit, quas po- 
 pulus elegerit, si earum eligendi facultatem petenti 
 populo non dat, vel rarius parlamentum convocando, 
 vel citiiis dimittendo, quam res populi ferunt ? Jus 
 autem iilud jurandum, quo rex Anglice se obligat, 
 nostri jiirispcriti pro sanctissima lege semper babuere. 
 Quod aiitem maximis reipub. periculis remcdium in- 
 
 vcniri potest (qui solus convocandi parlamenti finis 
 erat) si conventus ille magnus et augustissimus ad re- 
 gis libitum stultissimi saepe et pervicacissimi dissolve- 
 tur.'* Posse a parlamento abesse, proculdubio minus est, 
 quam parlamentum dissolvere : at rex per leges nos- 
 tras, illo Modorum libro traditas, abesse a parlamento, 
 nisi plane a'grotaret, neque potuit, neque debuit: et 
 ne turn quidem nisi inspecto ejus corpore a duodecim 
 regni paribus, qui de adversa regis valctudine testimo- 
 nium perhibere in senatu possent : solentne servi com 
 domino sic agere .•* Contra vero plebeius ordo, sine quo 
 parlamentum haberi non potest, etiam a rcge convoca- 
 tus potuit non adcsse, et seccssione facta, de repub. 
 male gesta cum rege expostulare : quod et praedictus 
 liber testatur. Verum, quod caput est, inter leges 
 Edouardi regis vulgo Confessoris, una est eximia, quee 
 de regis officio tractat; cui rex officio si desit, " nomen 
 regis in eo non constabit." Hoc quid esset, ne non satis 
 intelligeretur, Chilperici Francorum regis exemplum 
 subnectit, cui idcirco regnum a populo abrogatum erat. 
 Puniri autem malum regem ex legis bujus senteutia 
 oportere, significabat ille S. Edouardi gladius, cui no- 
 men Curtana erat, quem in regum creatione et pompa 
 gestare comes palatii solebat ; " in signum," inquit 
 noster Matthceus Paris, " quod et regem, si oberret, ha- 
 beat de jure potestatem cohibendi :" gladio autem ne- 
 mo fere nisi capite punitur. Hanc legem, cum aliis boni 
 illius Edouardi, Gulielmus ipse conquoestor, anno regni 
 quarto, ratam babuit : et frequentissimo Anglorum con- 
 cilio prope Verulamium religiosissimd juratus confir- 
 mavit: quo facto non solum jus omne belli, si quod in 
 nos babuit, ipse extinxit, sed etiam bujus legis judicio 
 atque sententitE se subjecit. Ejus etiam filius Henri- 
 cus ciim in omnes Edouardi leges, tiim in hanc quoque, 
 juravit; atque iis duntaxat conditionibus, vivente ad- 
 huc fratre Roberto natu majore, in regem est electus. 
 Jurarunt eadem omnes deinceps reges, antequam insig'- 
 nia regni acciperent. Hinc Celebris ille et antiquus 
 noster jurisconsultus Bractonus, 1. 1. c. 8. " Non est 
 rex, ubi dominatur voluntas, et non lex." Et 1. 3. c. 9. 
 " rex est dum bene regit; tyrannus, dum populum 
 sibi creditum violenta opprimit dorainatione." Et 
 ibidem, " exercere debet potestatem juris, ut vicarius et 
 minister Dei: potestas autem injuriae diaboli est, non 
 Dei: cum declinat ad injuriam rex, diaboli minister 
 est." Eadem ferme babet vetustus alter jurisconsultus, 
 libri illius author qui Fleta inscribitur, memor nempe 
 uterque et legis illius Edvardiuo", vere quidem regisp, 
 et regulae illius in jure nostro primarite, a me supra 
 dictje, qua nihil Dei legibus et rationi contrarium 
 haberi pro lege potest ; uti nee tyrannus pro rege, 
 nee minister diaboli pro ministro Dei. Cum itaque 
 lex maxim^ ratio recta sit, siquidem regi, siquidem 
 Dei ministro, obediendum est; eadem proreus et ra- 
 tione et lege, tyranno et diaboli ministro erit resis- 
 tendura. Et quoniam de nomine sappius quam de 
 re ambigitur, tradunt iidem, regem Angliae, etiamsi 
 nomen regis nondum perdiderit, judicari tamen, ut 
 quilibet e vulgo, et posse et debere. Bracton. 1. I. 
 c. 8. Fleta, 1. 1. c. 17. " non debet esse rege major 
 quisquam in exhibitione juris ; minimus autem esse 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 695 
 
 debet in judicio suscipiendo, si peccat," alii legunt, 
 " si petat." Judicari igitur cum debeat rex noster, sive 
 tyranni sub nomine, sive regis, quos habeat item judices 
 legitimes dictu difficile non debet esse. Eosdem con- 
 sulere authores baud pejus erit. Bracton. 1. 2. c. 16. 
 Fleta. 1. I.e. 17. " In populo regendo rex babet supe- 
 riores, legem, per quam factus est rex, et curiam suam, 
 videlicet comites et barones : comites dicuntur quasi 
 socii regis, et qui babet socium, habet magistruni ; et 
 ideo si rex fuerit sine fraeno, id est sine lege, debent ei 
 freenum ponere." Baronum autem nomine plebeium 
 ordinem comprehendi suprA ostendimus ; quin et pares 
 etiam parlamenti eosdem fuisse dictos, libri legum nos- 
 trarum antiqui passim tradunt : et imprimis liber ille, 
 cui titulus Parlamenti Modus; "Eligentur" inquit 
 " de omnibus regni paribus 25," quorum erunt " quin- 
 que milites, quinque cives," id est urbium delegati, 
 " quinque municipes : et duo milites pro comitatu ma- 
 jorem vocem habent in concedendo et contradicendo 
 quAm major comes Anglise;" et merito quidem; illi 
 euim pro tota aliqua provincia aut municipio sufFragia 
 ferunt, isti pro se quisque duntaxat. Comites autem 
 illos " codicillares," quos vocas, et " rescriptitios," cum 
 fcudales jam nulli sint, ad judicandum regera a quo 
 crcabantur minimi omnium idoneos esse, quis non vi- 
 det ? Cum itaque jus nostrum sit, ut est in illo speculo 
 antiquo, regera habere pares, qui in parlamento cog- 
 uoscant et judicent, " si quid rex in aliquem populi sui 
 peccaverit," si notissimum sit licere apud nos cuivis e 
 populo in minoribus quibusque curiis injuriarum ac- 
 tionem regi intendere; quanto justius est, quantoque 
 magis necessarium, si rex in universos peccaverit, ut 
 habeat qui eum non refraenare solum et coercere, sed 
 judicare et punire, possint. Pessim^ enim et ridicule 
 institutam esse cam necesse est rempub. in qua de mi- 
 nimis regum injuriis etiam privato cuivis cautum sit, 
 de maximis nihil in commune provisum, nihil de salute 
 omnium, quo minus liceat ei universos sine lege per- 
 dere, qui ne unum quidem lacdere per legem poterat. 
 Comites autem esse regis judices, cum ostcnsum sit 
 neque decere neque expedire, sequitur judicium illnd 
 totum ad plebeium ordinem, qui et pares regni, et ba- 
 rones, et populi totius potestate sibi delegata priediti 
 sunt, jure optimo pertinere. Cum euim, (ut in nostro 
 jure scriptum est, quod supra attuli,) plebs sola cum 
 rege sine comitibus aut episcopis parlaraentum consti- 
 tuat, quia rex cum sola plebe, etiam ante comites aut 
 episcopos natos, parlamenta peragere solebat, eadem 
 prorsus ratione plebs sola supreniam et sine rege, et 
 regem ipsum judicandi, potestatem habebit, quod etiam 
 ante ullum regem creatum, ipsa universi populi nomine 
 concilia et parlamenta peragere, judicare, ferre leges, 
 ipsa reges creare, solita erat ; non ut populo domina- 
 rentur, sed ut rem populi admiuistrarent. Quem si rex 
 contra injuriis afficere, et servitute opprimere, conatus 
 fuerit, ex ipsa legis nostrse sententia nomen regis in eo 
 Don constat, rex non est ; quod si rex non sit, quid est 
 quod ei pares amplius queeramus ? Tyrannum enim 
 jam re ipsa ab omnibus bonis judicatum uullinon satis 
 pares atque idonei sunt, qui supplicio mactanduni esse 
 pro tribunali judicent. Hoec cum ita sint, tot testirao- 
 
 niis, tot legibus prolatis, abund^ hoc demiim, quod erat 
 propositum, evicisse arbitror, ciim judicare regem penes 
 plebem jure optimo sit, cumque plebs regem de repub. 
 deque ecclesia, sine spe ulla sanitatis, pessime meritum 
 supplicio ultimo affecerit, recte atque ordine, exque re- 
 pub, suaque fide, dignitate, legibus denique patriis, 
 fecisse. Neque possum hie non gratulari milii de ma- 
 joribus nostris, qui non minore prudentia ac libertate, 
 quam Romani olim, aut Graecorum praestantissimi, 
 banc rempub. instituerunt; neque poterunt illi, siquid 
 nostrarum rerum sentiunt, non sibi etiam gratulari de 
 posteris suis ; qui tam sapient^r institutam, tanta liber- 
 tate fundatani, ab impotenti regis dominatione, cum 
 redacti pene in servitutem essent, tam fortiter, tamque 
 prudenter, vindicarunt. 
 
 CAPUT IX. 
 
 Satis jam arbitror palam esse, regem Anglise etiam 
 Anglorum legibus judicari posse; suos habere judices 
 legitimos ; quod erat probandum. Quid tu porro ? 
 (nam quae tu repetis, ad ea non repetam mea :) " ex 
 rebus nunc ipsis propter quas comitia indici solent, pro- 
 clive," inquis, " est ostendere regem esse supra parla- 
 mcntum." Sit sane proclive quantum voles, in quo 
 proecipitem te dari jam statim senties. " Parlamen- 
 tum," inquis, " congregari solet ad majoris moraenti 
 negotia, in quibus regni salus et populi versatur." Si 
 rex parlamentum convocat ad procurandas res populi, 
 non suas, neque id nisi assensu eorura atque arbitrio 
 quos convocat, quid aliud est, obsecro, nisi minister 
 populi et procurator? cum, sine suffragiis eorum quos 
 populus mittit, ne tantillum quidem, neque de aliis, 
 neque de seipso, decernere possit. Quod etiam argu- 
 mento est, officium esse regis, toties parlamentum con- 
 vocare, quoties populus id petit: quandoquidcm et res 
 populi, non regis, iis comitiis tractantur, idque populi 
 arbitrio. Quamvis enim regis quoque assensus honoris 
 causa peti soleret, quem in rebus minoris momcnti ad 
 privatorum duntaxat commoda spectantibus poterat non 
 praebere, poterat pro ilia formula dicere, " rex delibera- 
 bit," de iis tamen, quae ad salutem omnium communem 
 et libertatem pertiaebant, prorsus abnuere nullo modo 
 poterat ; ciim id et contra juramentum regium esset, 
 quo veluti lege firmissima tenebatur, et contra praeci- 
 puum Magnae Chartse articulum, c. 29. " Non negabi- 
 mus, non differemus, cuiquamjus autjustitiam." Non 
 negabit rex justitiam, negabit ergo justas leges ? non 
 cuiquam, an ergo omnibus.'' ne in curia quidem uUa 
 minori, an ergo in senatu supremo ? an vero rex ulhis 
 tantum sibi arrogabit, ut quid justum sit, quid utile, se 
 unum universo populo scire melius existimet.'' Ciim 
 " ad hoc creatus et electus sit, ut justitiam faciat uui- 
 versis," Bracton. 1. 3. c. 9. per eas nimirum leges " quas 
 vulgus" elegerit. Unde illud in archivis nostris 7. H. 
 4. Rot. Pari. num. 59, " non est ulla regis prasrogativa, 
 quae ex justitia et aequitate quicquam derogat." Et 
 reges olim acta parlamenti confirmare recusantes,phar-i 
 
696 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGUCANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 tain videlicet Magfnam et bujusiuodi alia, majores uostri 
 8tEpeuumer6 artuis coegere ; neque propterca minus 
 valerc illas leges, aut minus Icgitimas esse, jurispcrili 
 nostri statuunt : quanduquidem assensum rex iis decretis 
 coactus pru-buit, quibus jure alque sponte assentiri de- 
 bebat. Tu dum contendis aliarum ctiam gentium reges 
 in potestate vel synedrii vel senatus, vel concilii sui 
 eequd fuisse, non nos in scrvitutem asscris, scd eas in 
 libertatem : in quo idem facere pergis, quod" ab initio 
 fecisti, quodque faciunt pragmaticorum stultissimi, ut 
 incauti seipsos in lite sippiiis contra veniant. At nos 
 scilicet fatemur " regem, ubicunque absit, in parlaminto 
 tamen censeri pnesentem vi potestatis : ergo quodcun- 
 que illic agitur a rege ipso actum intelligi." Tum 
 quasi bolum aliquem nactus esses aut mercedulam, 
 illorura recordatione Caroleorum delinitus, " accipi- 
 raus," iuquis, "quod dant:" accipc igitur, quo dignus 
 es, magnum malum ; non enim damns, quod sperabas, 
 inde sequi " curiam illam non alia potiri potestate 
 quam a rege delegata." Si enim dicitur, potestas regis, 
 qusecunque ea sit, a parlamento abesse non potest, an 
 suprema continuo dicitur P annon potius transferri in 
 parlamentum potestas regia videtur, utque minor ma- 
 jore contineri ? sane si parlamentum potest, nolente et 
 invito rege, acta ejus et privilegia quibusvis data re- 
 Tocare atque rescindere, si ipsius regis pracrogativas, 
 prout videtur, circumscribere, si proventus ejus annuos 
 et impensas aulae, si famulitium ipsum, si totam denique 
 rem domesticam regis moderari, si vel intimos ejus con- 
 siliarios atque amicos amovere, vel etiam e sinu abripere 
 ad suppliciura, potest, si cuivis denique de plebe a rege 
 ad parlamentum quacunque de re provocatio est lege 
 data, non itidem a parlamento ad regem, quae omnia et 
 posse fieri, et fuisse ssepius facta, ciim monumeuta pub- 
 lica, tum legum nostrarum consultissimi testantur, ne- 
 minem esse arbitror, modo mens ei sana sit, qui par- 
 lamentum supra regem esse non fateatur. Nam in 
 interregno etiam parlamentum viget; et quod historiis 
 uostris testatissimum est, nulla bcereditatis ratione ba- 
 bita, seepe, quem sibi visum est, suffragiis liberrimis 
 regem creavit. Ut summatim dicam quod res est, par- 
 lamentum est supremum gentis concilium, ad hoc ip- 
 sum a populo plane libero constitutum, et potestate 
 plena instructum, ut de summis rebus in commune con- 
 sulat; rex ideo erat creatus, ut de consilio et sentcntia 
 illorum ordinum consulta omnia exequenda curarct. 
 Quod cum parlamentum ipsum edicto nuper suo pub- 
 lic6 declararet, neque enim pro aequitate sua recusabat 
 vel externis gentibus actionum suarum rationem ultru 
 ac sponte reddere, ecce tibi, ^ gurgustio uuUius homo 
 authoritatis, aut fidei, aut rei, Burgundus iste Verna, 
 qui summum Angliae senatum, jus patrium atque 
 suum scripto asserentem, " detestandte et horribilis 
 imposturee" insimulat. Fatriam mchercule tuam pu- 
 debit, verbero, se tantse impudentioe bomuucionem 
 genuisse. Sed babes fortasse quoe salutariter monitos 
 nos velis; agedum, auscultamus. " Quas," inquis, 
 " leges sancire potest parlamentum, in quo nee pnesu- 
 lum ordo coniparet?" Tune ergo, furiose, praesules ex 
 ecclcsia extirpatum ibas, ut in parlamenta induceres ? 
 O honjincm impium,et Satanae tradendum, quem neque 
 
 ecclesia non ejicere hypocritam et atbeum, neque ulla 
 respub. recipere communem libertalis pestem atque 
 labem, deberet; qui etiam, quod nequit ex Evangelio, 
 id ex Aristotele et Halicarnassaeo, deinde ex statutis 
 papisticis pravissimorum temporum, probare adnititur, 
 regem Anglitc caput esse Anglicanse ecclesire, ut epis- 
 copos, compransores suos et necessarios nuper factos, 
 quos ipse Deus exturbavit, novos iterum preedones et 
 tyrannos, pro virili sua parte, sanctee Dei ecclesiac im- 
 ponat; quorum universum ordiuem, tanquam religioiii 
 Cbristiantc pemiciosissimum, eradicandum esse stir- 
 pitus, editis antea libris clamos^ contenderat. Quis 
 unquam apostata, non dico k sua, qutc nulla certa est, 
 sed a Cbristiana doctrina, quam ipse asseruerat, defec- 
 tione tam foeda atque ncfaria descivit ? " Episcopis de 
 medio sublatis, qui sub rege, et ex ejus arbitrio de cau- 
 sis ecclesiae cognoscebaiit,"quaeris " ad quos redibit ea 
 cognitio." O perditissime, verere tandem vel consci- 
 entiam tuam ; memineris dum licet; nisi si boo sero 
 nimis te moneo, meminerju quam non impun^ tibi erit, 
 quam incxpiabile demum sit, sanctum Dei spiritum sic 
 illudere. Subsiste aliquando, et pone aliquem furori 
 modum, ne te accensa ira numinis repente corripiat; 
 qui Christi gregem, unctosque Dei minime tangendos, 
 iis hostibus et seevissimis tyrannis obterendos iterum et 
 persultandos tradere cupis, a quibus elata modo et 
 mirifica Dei manus eos liberavit : tuque ipse, nescio 
 eorumne ad fructum ullum, an ad perniciem et obdura- 
 tionem tuam, liberandos esse docuisti. Quod si jus 
 nullum dominandi in ecclesiam est episcopis, certe 
 multo minus est regibus ; quicquid bominum statuta 
 edicunt. Sciunt enim, qui labris aliquanto plusquam 
 primoribus evangelium gustarunt, ecclesiae guber- 
 nationem divinam esse totam ac spiritualem, non civi- 
 lem. " In secularibus " autem, quod a'is " supremam 
 jurisdictionem habuisse regem Anglioe," id falsum esse 
 jura nostra ubertim declarant. Curias omnes ubi ju- 
 dicia exercentur, non rex, sed parlamenti autboritas, 
 vel constituit, vel tollit; in quibus tamen mininio cuivis 
 e plebe licebat regem in jus vocare ; neque raro judices 
 contra regem pronuntiare solebant; id si rex vel inter- 
 dicto, vel mandato, vel scriptis literis, impedire conare- 
 tur, ex juramento et lege non parebant judices, sed 
 ejusmodi mandata rejiciebant, et pro nihilo babebant : 
 non potcrat rex quenquam in vincula conjicere, aut 
 ullius bona in publicum addicere ; poterat neminem 
 supplicio puuire, nisi in aliquam curiam priiis citatum, 
 ubi non rex sed consueti judices sententias tulere ; idque 
 ssepe, ut supra dixi, contra regem. Hinc noster Brac- 
 tonus, 1. 3. c. 9. " regia potestas juris est, non injurise ; 
 et nihil aliud potest rex, nisi id solum quod de jure 
 potest." Aliud tibi suggerunt causidici tui, qui nuper 
 solum vcrterunt; ex statutis nempe quibusdam baud 
 antiquis sub Edvardo 4to, Henrico 7timo, EdvardoGto, 
 promulgatis : neque viderunt, quamcunque regi potes- 
 tatem statuta ilia concedunt, earn a parlamento con- 
 ccssam esse omnem et quasi precariam ; quam et eadem 
 autboritas potcrat revocare. Cur sic passus es nasuto 
 tibi imponi, ut quo maxime argumento regis potestatem 
 ex decretis parlamenti pendere demonstratur, eo abso- 
 lutam esse et supremam probare te credercs ? Nam et 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 697 
 
 monumenta nostra sanctiora testantur, reges nostros 
 noil baereditati, non arniis, non succession!, sed populo, 
 suam oninem potestatem debere. Talis potestas regia 
 Henrico quarto, talis ante eum Ricbardo secundo, a 
 plebeio ordine concessa legitur ; Rot. Parlanient. 
 1 Hen. 4. num, 108. baud seciis atque rex aliquis 
 praesidibus suis praefecturas et provincias edicto et 
 diplomate solet concedere. Id nempe Uteris publicis 
 I consignari disert^ jussit conimuninm domus, " conces- 
 sisse se regi Ricbardo, ut tali bona libertate" irueretur, 
 " qualem ante earn reges Angliee babuere ; " qua cum 
 rex ille " contra fidem sacramenti sui " ad eversionem 
 legum abuteretur, ab iisdem orbatus regno est. lidem 
 etiam, quod et eadem rotula testatur, in parlamento 
 edicunt, se, prudentia et modeiatione Henrici 4ti 
 confisos, " velle ac jubere ut in eadem magna liber- 
 tate regia sit, quam ejus progenitores obtinuere." 
 Ilia autem nisi fiduciaria plane fuisset, quemadmodum 
 liaec fuit, neresse est profecto et parlamenti illius or- 
 dines, qui concederent quod suum non erat, ineptos ac 
 vanos, et reges illos qui, quod suum jam erat, con- 
 cessum ab aliis vellent accipere, et sibi et posteris in- 
 jurios iiiinis fuisse : quorum utrumvis credibile non 
 est. " Tertia pars," inquis, " regiae potestatis versatur 
 circa militiam ; banc partem reges Anglioe sine pari et 
 eemulo tractarunt." Neque hoc veriiis quam ccetera quoe 
 perfugarum fide scripsisti. Primiim enim pacis et 
 belli arbitrium penes magnum regni senatum semper 
 fuisse, et liistoriae passim nostrce, et exterorum, quot- 
 quot res nostras paulo accuratiiis attigere, testantur. 
 Sancti etiam Edvardi leges, in quas jurare nostri reges 
 tenebantur, certissimam fidcm faciunt, capite de here- 
 tochiis, " fuisse quasdam potestates per provincias et 
 singulos comitatus regni constitutas, qui heretoches 
 vocabantur, latin6 ductores exercitus," qui provincia- 
 libus copiis prieerant, non " ad honorem corona;" so- 
 lum, sed "ad utilitatem regni." Isti vero eligebantur 
 "per commune concilium, et per singulos comitatus in 
 pleno conventu populari, sicut et vicecomites eligi de- 
 bent." Ex quo facile perspicitur, et copias regni et 
 copiarum ductores in potestate populi, non regis, et 
 antiquitus fuisse, et esse oportere : illamque legem 
 aequissimam nostro in regno baud minus valuisse, 
 quam olim in populari Romanorum statu valebat. De 
 qua et M. Tullium audirc non abs re fuerit. Philipp. 
 10. " Omnes legiones, omnes copiae qute ubique sunt, 
 Populi R. sunt. Neque enim legiones, quee Antoni- 
 um consulem reliquerunt, Antonii potius quam reipub. 
 fuisse dicuntur." Sancti autem Edouardi legem illam, 
 cum aliis illius legibus Gulielmus ille conquoestor dic- 
 tus, populo sic volente ac jubente, juratus confirmavit; 
 sed et banc insuper adjecit, c. 56. " Omnes civitates, 
 burgos, castella, singulis noctibus ita custodiri, prout 
 vicccomes, et aldermanni, caeterique prjtpositi per 
 commune concilium ad utilitatem regni, melius provi- 
 debunt ; " et lege 62, " ideo castella, burgi, civitates 
 aedificatse sunt ad tutionem gentium et populorum 
 regni, idcirco et observari debent cum omni libertate, 
 integritate, et ratione. " Quid ergo ? custodientur 
 arces et oppida in pace contra fures et maleficos non 
 nisi per commune concilium ejusdem loci, non custo- 
 
 dientur in maximo belli metu contra hostes sive exter- 
 nos sive intestinos, per commune concilium totius 
 gentis ? sane illud nisi concedatur, neque " libertas," 
 neque " integritas," nee " ratio" denique, in iis custo- 
 diendis ulla essepoterit; neque earum rerum quicquam 
 assequemur, quarum causa fundari primum urbes et 
 arces lex ipsa dicit. Majores cert6 nostri quidvis po- 
 tius regi quam sua arma et oppidorum preesidia tradere 
 solebant ;* idem esse rati ac si libertatem ipsi suam 
 ferocitati regum et impotentiae proditum irent. Cujus 
 rei exempla in bistoriis nostris uberrima cum sint, et 
 jam notissima, inserere buic loco supervacaneum esset. 
 At " protectionem rex debet subditis ; quomodo eos 
 protegere poterit, nisi arma virosque babeat in sua po- 
 testate ?" At, inquam, babebat baec omnia ad utilita- 
 tem regni, ut dictum est, non ad civium interitum et 
 regni disperditionem : quod, et Henrici 3tii temporibus, 
 prudenter Leonardus quidam vir doctus, in episcoporum 
 conventu, respondit Rustando papse nuntio et regis 
 procuratori : "omnes ecclesias sunt domiui papoe, ut 
 omnia principis esse dicimus, ad tuitionem, non ad 
 fruitionem vel proprietatem," quod aiunt ; ad defensi- 
 onem, " non ad dispersionem :" eadem et prsedictae 
 legis Edouardi sententia erat ; quid est boc aliud nisi 
 potestate fiduciaria; non absoluta ? qualem cum impe- 
 rator bellicus fer6 habeat, id est delegatam, non plane 
 propriam, non eo segnius populum, a quo eligitur, sive 
 domi sive militiae defendere solet. Frustra autem par- 
 lamenta, et impari sane congressu de legibus sancti 
 Edouardi et libertate olim cum regibus contendissent, 
 si pen^sregem solum arma esse oportere existimassent; 
 nam et leges quamlibet iniquas ipse dare si voluisset, 
 frustra se " charta" quantumvis " magna" contra fer- 
 rum defendissent. " At quid proderit," inquis, " par- 
 lamento niilitise magisterium habere, ciim ne teruncium 
 quidem ad earn sustinendam queat, nolente rege, de 
 populo cogere." Ne sit ea tibi cura : primum enim 
 hoc falso ponis, parlamenti ordines " non posse sine 
 rege tributa populo imponere," a quo et ipsi missi sunt, 
 et cujus causam suscipiunt. Deinde non potest te fu- 
 gere, tam sedulum de alieiiis rebus percontatorem, sua 
 sponte populum, vasis aureis atque argenteis con- 
 flatis, niagnam vim pecuniae in hoc bellum contra 
 regem impendisse. Amplissimos exinde regum nos- 
 trorum amnios reditusrecenses: nil nisi "millies quin- 
 genties quadragies" crepas ; " ex patrimonio regis 
 maximas largitiones" fieri solitas ab iis " regibus, qui 
 liberalitatis laudibus emicuerunt," avidus audieras: bac 
 te illecebra, veluti Balaamum ilium infamem, proditores 
 patrias ad suam causam perduxere; ut Dei populo malc- 
 dicere,etdivinisjudiciisobstrepere, auderes. Stulte; quid 
 tandem regi injusto ac violento tam iramensoe opes pro- 
 fuere ? Quid etiam tibi ? ad quern nihil prorsus eorum, 
 quae spe ingenti devoraveras, pervenisse audio, prseter 
 unam illam crumenulam, vitreis globulis vermiculatam, 
 et centenis aureolis confertam. Cape istam, Balaame, 
 quam adamasti, iniquitatis mercedera, ac fruere. Pergis 
 enim desipere ; " Erectio standardi," id est " vexilli, 
 ad regem solum pertinet." Quapropter .'* quia 
 
 Belli signum Laurenti Turnus ab area 
 
 Extulit. 
 
G96 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 Tune vcro nescis, grammatice, hoc idem ciijusvis iin- 
 peratoris hellici munus esse ? At " ait Aristotcles, 
 necesse est regi pnesidium adsisterc, quo leg-cs tiieri 
 possit; ergo oportet regem plus armis ])ossc quum 
 populum universum." Tales hie homo cousequentias 
 torquere solet, quales Ocnus fuiics apud inferos; qua; 
 nulli sunt usui, nisi ut comedantur ab asinis: aliud 
 enira est pnesidium a populo datum, aliud armorum 
 omnium potestas, quam Aristotcles hoc ipso, ()uem pro- 
 tulisti, loco a regibus abjudicat. Oportet, inquit, ha- 
 beat rex tantam circa se manuin armatorum, " quanta 
 singulis vel compluribus fortior sit, populo vero mi- 
 nor; nvai it Toaairtjv la^^v uiari iKaoTH fiiv cdi ivbc xdi 
 avfiirXnuvwv KpiiTTot, rov It 7rXi73»c i'/rTu). Polit. 1. 3. c. 11. 
 Alioqui sane, sub specie tuendi, possit statim et popu- 
 lum et leges sibi subjicere. Hoc autem rexet tyrannus 
 interest ; rex a senatu, et populo volente ac libente, 
 quid satis est praesidii circa se habet contra hostes et 
 seditiosos : tyrannus, invito senatu ac populo, vel hos- 
 tium, vel perditorum civium, presidium sibi quam 
 maximum comparare studet, contra senatum ipsum et 
 populum. Concessit itaque parlamentum regi, ut alia 
 omnia, sic standardi erectionem ;" non ut infesta patrite 
 signa inferret, sed ut populum contra eos defenderet, 
 quos parlamentum hostes judicat ; si secus fuisset, ipse 
 hostis judicandus erat ; cum juxta ipsam sancti Edou- 
 ardi, vel, quod sanctius est, ipsam natures legem, 
 nomen regis perdiderit. Unde in praedicta Philippica, 
 " amittit is omne exercitus et imperii jus, qui eo impe- 
 rio et exercitu rempub. oppugnat." Neque licebat regi 
 "feudales" illos " equites" ad " bellum " evocare, 
 quotl parlamenti autboritas non decrevisset; id quod 
 ex statutis pluribus manifestum est. Idem de vecti- 
 galibus et censu navali censendum ; quern impcrare 
 civibus sine senatusconsulto rex non potuit : atque ita 
 gravissimi legum nostrarum interpretes, annis abhinc 
 plus minus duodecim, tum ciim adbucfirmissimum erat 
 regium imperium, publico statuerunt. Sic diu ante 
 eos P'ortescutius, Henrici 6ti cancellarius, juris nostri 
 consultissimus; rex Angliae, inquit, neque leges mutare 
 potest, neque tributa, nolente populo, imponere. Sed 
 nee probavcrit quisquam ullis testimoniis anliquorum 
 " regni Anglise statum mere " esse " regalem. Habet 
 rex," inquit Bractonus, " jurisdictionem super omnes." 
 Id est in curia ; ubi regis quidem nomine, nostris au- 
 tem legibus, jus redditur. " Omnis sub rege est;" id 
 est singuli : atque ita se explicat ipse Bractonus locis 
 a me supra citatis. Ad ea qute restant, ubi eundem 
 volvis lapidem, in quo vales ipsum, credo, Sisjphum 
 delassare, ex supra dictis abunde respondetur. De 
 csetero, si quando parlaraenta suum regibus bonis ob- 
 sequium amplissimis verbis citra asseutalionem et 
 scrvitutem detulere, id, quasi eodcm modo tyrannis 
 delatum esset, intelligi, aut populo fraudi esse, non 
 debet; neque enim justo obsequio libertas imminuitur. 
 Quod autem ex Edvardo Coco et aliis citas, " Angliae 
 regnum absolutum est imperium," id est si ad ullum 
 regem externum, aut Caesarem, respicias ; vel, ut 
 Cambdenus ait, " quia in imperii clientela non est : " 
 alioqui adjicit uterque imperium hoc consistere non 
 " ex rege " solo, sed *' ex corpore politico." Unde 
 
 Forte-scutius, de laud, legum Angl. c. 9. " rex," inquit, 
 " AngliuE " populum gubernat "non mera potestate 
 regia, sed politica : populus cnim iis legibus gubcrna- 
 tur, quas" ipse fert. Externos hoc etiam scriptores 
 non latebat. Hinc Philippus Cominaeus, author gra- 
 vissimus, commentariorum quinto; "inter omnia orbis 
 tcrrae regna, quorum ego notitiam habeo, non est, mca 
 quidem sententiii, ubi publicum moderatius tractctur, 
 neque ubi regi minus liceat in populum, quam in 
 Anglia." Postremo " ridiculum est," inquis, " argu- 
 mentum, quod afTerunt, regna ante reges fuisse, quasi 
 dicas lucem ante solem extilisse." At nos, 6 bone vir, 
 non regna, sed populum, ante reges fuisse dicimus. 
 Quem interim te magis ridiculum dicam, qui lucem 
 ante solem extitisse, quasi ridiculum, negas. Ita dum 
 in alienis curiosus esse vis, elementa dedidicisti. Mi- 
 raris denique, " eos qui regem in comitiis regni vide- 
 runt solio sedentem, sub aureo et serico coelo, potuisse 
 in dubium vocare, utriim penes regem an penes parla- 
 mentum majestas sit." Incredulos profecto homines 
 narras, quos tam lucidum argumentum, h coelu ipso 
 petitum, nihil movit. Quod tu caelum aureuni homo 
 stoicus adeo es religiose et unice contemplatus, ut et 
 coeli Mosaici et Aristotelici oblitus esse penitus videare : 
 cum in illo " lucem ante solem exstitisse" negaveris, 
 in hoc tres zonas teniperatas esse supra docueris. Quot 
 zonas in illo regis aureo et serico coelo ohservaveris, 
 nescio : hoc scio, te zonam unam, centum stellis aureis 
 bene temperatam, ex ilia tua coelesti contemplatione 
 abstulisse. 
 
 CAPUT X. 
 
 Cum hsec orauis controversia de jure, sivc generalini 
 regio, sive separatim regis Angliae, obstinatis partium 
 contentionibus, quam ipsa rei natura difficilior facta 
 sit, spero, qui studium veritatis factionibus anteponunt, 
 iis ea me ex lege Dei, jureque gentium, ex institutis 
 denique patriis, copiose attulisse, quae regem Angliae 
 judican posse, atque etiam capite puniri, indubitatum 
 reliquerint. Cum coeteris, quorum aninios aut super- 
 stitio occupavit, aut mentis aciem anticipata rcgii splen- 
 doris admiratio ita perstrinxit, ut nihil in virtute ac 
 libertate vera illustre ac splendidum videre possint, sive 
 ratione et argumentis agamus, sive exemplis, frustra 
 contendimus. Tu vero, Salmasi, ut reliqua omnia, ita 
 hoc etiam absurd^ admodum facere videris, qui cum 
 omnes independentcs omnibus probris onerare non de- 
 sinas, regem ipsum quem defendis, maxim^ omnium 
 independentem fuisse statuis : neque " regnum populo, 
 sed generi, debuisse : deinde quem " capitis causam 
 dicere coactum" initio gi-aviter dolebas, eum nunc 
 " inaudituni periisse" quereris. At vero totam causae 
 dictioncm ejus, fide summa Galiic6 editam, inspicere si 
 libet, persuasum tibi aliud fortasse erit. Carolo ccrte 
 ciini per aliquot dies continuos amplissima loquendi 
 facta copia esset, non ille quidem est ea. usus ad objecta 
 sibi crimina diluendum, sed ad judicium illud, ac ju- 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 699 
 
 dices, omuin6 rejicicnduni. Qui autem reus aut tacet, 
 aut aliena semper respondet, eum non est injuria, si 
 manifestus criminum sit, vel iuauditum condemnari. 
 Carolum si " mortem" ais " plane egisse vitee respon- 
 dentem," assentior : si dicis pie et sancte et " secure" 
 vitam finiisse, scito aviam ejus Mariam, infamem fcE- 
 minam, pari in speciem pietate, sanctitate, constantia, 
 in peg'mate occubuisse: ne animi prsesentife, qute in 
 morte quibusvis e vulgo maleficis permagna ssepe est, 
 iiimium tribuas: soepe desperatio aut obfirmatus animus 
 fortitudinis quandam speciem et quasi personam induit ; 
 ssepe stupor tranquiilitatis : videri se bonos, intrepidos, 
 innocentes, interdum et sanctos, pessimi quique non 
 minus in morte quam in vita cujjiunt ; inque ipsa scele- 
 rum suorum capitali poena sclent ultimam simulationis 
 suae et fraudum, quam possunt speciocissime, pompam 
 ducere; et, veluti poetae aut histriones deterrimi, plau- 
 sum in ipso exitu ambitiosissime captare. Nunc " ad 
 islam quoestionem pervenisse te" ais, " qua tractandum 
 est, quinam fuerint illius regiiE condemnationis prte- 
 cipui authores." Ciim de te potiiis inquirendum sit, 
 quomodo tu, homo exterus, et Gallicanus erro, ad quoes- 
 tionem de rebus nostris, tibi jam alienis, habendam 
 pervcneris ? quo pretio emptus? verum de eo satis 
 constat. Te vero percontantem de rebus nostris quis 
 demiim docuit? ipsi nimirum perfugtP, & perduelles 
 patriae, qui te hominem vanissimum nacti, mercede 
 ad malcdicendum facile adduxerunt. Data deinde 
 tibi est aliqua aut furibundi cujuspiam sacellani semi- 
 papistee, aut sfervientis aulici, de statu rerum scriptiun- 
 cula; eam ut latine verteres negotium tibi dabatur: 
 liinc istoe narrationes confecttc, quas, si videtur, pau- 
 lum excutiamus. " In Lane condemnationem non cen- 
 tena-millesima pars populi consensit." Quid ergo 
 coeteri, qui sese nolentibus tantum facinus fieri sunt 
 passi ? an stipites, an trunci bominum, an forte quales 
 illi in scena Virgiliana, 
 
 Purpurea intexti toUunt aulaea Britanni ? 
 
 Non enim vcros tu quidem Britannos, sed pictos ne- 
 scio quos, vel etiam acupictos, videris mihi velle dicere. 
 Cum itaque incredibile sit gcntem bellicosam a tarn 
 paucis, iisque infimis de plebe sua, sub jugum mitti, 
 quod in narratione tua primum occurrit, id esse falsis- 
 simum apparet. " Ordo ecclesiasticus erat ab ipso 
 senatu ejectus." E6 miserior itaque tua est insania, 
 necdum enim te sentis insanire, qui eos e parlamento 
 quereris ejectos, quos tute ex ecclesia ejiciendos esse, 
 libro longissimo scribis ? " Senatus alter ordo qui in 
 proceribus consistebat, ducibus, comitibus, vicecomi- 
 tibus, statione sua dejectus est." Et merito, a nullo 
 euim municipio missi pro se tantum sedebant, nihil 
 juris in populum habebant, juri tamen ejus et libertati, 
 suo quodam institute, refragari in plerisque consueve- 
 rant ; erant a rege constituti, ejus comites, et famuli, et 
 quasi umbrae, quo amoto, ipsi necesse est ad piebem, 
 unde orti sunt, redigerentur. " Una et deterrima por- 
 lio parlamcnti potestatem sibi vindicare non debuit re- 
 ges judicandi." At plebeius ordo, quod te supra docui, 
 non solum parlamcnti pars erat potissima, etiam sub 
 rcgibus, sed per se ipse parlamentum omnibus nuraeris 
 
 absolutum et legitimum, etiam sine comitibus, nedum 
 ecclesiasticis, constituebat. Atqui " ne tota quidem 
 hcec ipsa pars ad sententiam de regis capite fereudam 
 admissa est." Pars ilia nempe non admissa, quern 
 verbo regem, re hostem toties judicaverat, ad eura ani- 
 mis atque consiliis palam defecerat. Parlamcnti or- 
 dines Anglicani cum iis qui a Scotiae itidem parlamento 
 missi erant legati, idibus Januarii 1645, rescripserant 
 regi, dolosas inducias et habenda secum Londini coUo- 
 quia petenti, non posse se eum in urbem admittere, 
 donee is de bello civili tribus jam regnis ejus opera 
 excitato, de coedibus tot civium ejus jussu factis reipub. 
 satisfecisset; deque pace firma atque sincera iis con- 
 ditionibus cavisset, quas ei utriusque regni parlamenta 
 et tulerant saepiiis, et latura essent : ipse e contrario 
 postulata eorum aequissima jam septies humillime ob- 
 lata, responsionibus aut surdis repudiaverat, aut am- 
 biguis eluserat. Ordines tandem post tot annorum 
 patientiam ut ne fraudulentus rex, quam debellare 
 rempub. in acie non valebat, eam in vinculis per dila- 
 tiones everteret, et jucundissimum ex nostris dissidiis 
 fructum capiens, de victoribus etiam suis restituris hos- 
 tis insperatum sibi trinmpbum ageret, decernunt, se 
 regis deinceps rationem non habituros, nuUas se ei 
 postulationes amplius esse missuros, aut ab eo accep- 
 turos : post haec tamen decreta reperti sunt ex ipso or- 
 dinum numero, qui invectissimi exercitus odio, cujus 
 maximis rebus gestis invidebant, quemque, post ingen- 
 tia merita, dimiltere cum ignominia cupiebant, et 
 ministris aliquot seditiosis, quibus misere serviebant, 
 morem gerentes, opportunum sibi tempus nacti, cum 
 eorum multi, quos a se longe dissentire sciebant, ad 
 sedandos presbyterianorum gliscentes jam tumultus, 
 missi ab ipso ordine, in provinciis abessent, mira levi- 
 tate, ne dicam perfidia, decernunt, inveteratum hostem, 
 verbotenus duntaxat regem, nulla pene ab eo satisfac- 
 tione prius accepta, aut cautione facta, ad urbem esse 
 reducendum; in summam dignitatem atque iniperium 
 aeque esse restituendum, ac si de repub. preedare me- 
 ritus esset. Ita religioni, libertati, foederi denique illi 
 a se toties jactato regem proeponebant. Quid illi in- 
 terea qui integri tam pestifera agitari consilia vide- 
 bant? An idco deesse patriae, saluti suorum non pros- 
 picere debuerant, eo quod istius mali contagio in 
 ipsorum ordinem penetraverat .^ At quis istos exclusit 
 male sanos ? " Exercitus," inquis, " Anglicanos," id 
 est, non extemorum,sed fortissimorum et fidissimorum 
 civium ; quorum tribuni plerique senatores ipsi erant, 
 quos illi boni exclusi patria ipsa excludendos, et in 
 Hiberniam procul ablegandos esse censuerant; dum 
 Scotia interim dubia jam fide quatuor Anglise provin- 
 cias suis finibus proximas magnis copiis insidebant, 
 firmissima earum regionum oppida prcesidiis tenebant, 
 regem ijjsum in custodia habebant: dum ipsi etiam 
 factiones suorum atque tumultus, parlamento plusquara 
 minaces, et in urbe et in agris passim fovebant, qui 
 tumultus paulo post in bellum non civile solum, sed et 
 Scoticum illud erupere. Quod si privatis etiam consiliis 
 aut ai-mis subvenire reipublicae laudatissimum semper 
 fuit, non est certc cur exercitus reprehend! possit, qui 
 parlamcnti authoritate ad urbem accersitus imperata 
 
700 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 fecit; et regiorum factionem atque tumtiltum ipsi curiae 
 saepiiis miiiitaiitem facile compescuit. In id aiitem 
 discrimen adducta res erat, lit aut iios ab illis, aut illos 
 a nobis opprimi necesse esset. Stabant ab illis I^)n- 
 dinensium picrique inslitores atque opifices, et minis- 
 troruni ractiosissimi quique; a nobis exercitus niag-na 
 fide, nioiiestia, virtute cognitus. Per hos cum retincre 
 libertatcm, rcmpub., sahitem liccret, an hvcc omnia 
 per ignaviam et stultitiam prodenda fuisse censes ? 
 Debellati regiarum partium duces arma quidem inviti, 
 animum hostilem non deposuerant: omnibus belli re- 
 novandi occasionibus intenti ad urbem se receperant. 
 Cum his, quamvis inimicissimis, quamvis sanguincni 
 eorum avid6 sitientibus, presbyteriani, postquam non 
 permitti sibi in omnes tam civilem quam ecclesias- 
 ticam dominationem viderunt, clandestina consilia, et 
 prioribus tum dictis tum factis indignissima consociare 
 cocperant: eoque acerbitatis processere, ut mallent se 
 regi denuo manciparc, quam fratres suos in partem 
 illam libertatis, quam et ipsi sue sub sanguine acqui- 
 sirerant, admittere; mallent tyrannuiii tot civium cru- 
 ore perfusum, ira in superetites, etconceptajam ultione 
 ardentem rursus experiri dominum, quam fratres, et 
 amicissimos cequo jure ferre sibi pares. Soli indepen- 
 dentes qui vocantur, et ad ultimum sibi constare, et sua 
 uti victoria sciebant: qui ex rege hostem se fecerat, 
 €um ex hoste regem esse amplius, sapienter, meo qui- 
 dem judicio, nolebant: neque pacem idcirco non vole- 
 bant, sed involutum pacis nomine aut bellum novum, 
 aut oeternam servitutem prudentes metuebant. Exer- 
 citum autem nostrum quo fusiiis infaniare possis, nar- 
 ratiouera quandam rerum nostrarum iuconditam et 
 strigosam exordiris : in qua tametsi multa falsa, multa 
 frivola reperio, multa abs te vitio data, quce laudi du- 
 cenda essent, huic tamen alteram ex adverso narra- 
 tionem opponere nihil arbitror attinere. Kationibus 
 enim hie non narrationibus certatur; atque illis utro- 
 bique, non his fides habebitur. Etsane sunt ejusmodi 
 res istae, ut nisi justa historia dici pro dignitate neque- 
 ant. Melius itaque puto, quod de Carthagine Sallus- 
 tius, silere tantis de rebus, quam parum dicere. Neque 
 coramittam ut non solum virorum illustrium, sed Dei 
 prtEcipue maximi laudes, in hac rerum seri mirabili 
 ssepissime iterandas, tuis hoc libro intexam opprobriis. 
 Ea igitur duntaxat, quae argumenti habere speciem vi- 
 dentur, pro more decerpam. " Anglos et Scotos " quod 
 ais " solenni conrentione promisisse, se regis majes- 
 tatem conservaturos," omittis quibus id conditionibus 
 promisere ; si salva nimirum rcligione et liberlate id 
 fieri posset : quibus utrisque ad cxtreniura usque spiri- 
 tum iniquus adeo et insidiosus rex iste erat, ut, vivente 
 illo, et religionem periclitaturam, et libertatem interi- 
 turam esse, facile appareret. Sed red is jam ad illos 
 regii supplicii authores. " Si res ipsa ponderibus suis 
 et momcntis rect^ testimetur, cxitus facti nefandi ita 
 independentibus imputari debet, ut principii et pro- 
 gressus gloriam presbyteriani sibi possent vindicare." 
 Audite, presbyteriani, ccquid nunc juvat, ecquid con- 
 fert ad innocentiae et fidelitatis opinionem vcstrcP, quod 
 a rege puniendo abhorrerc tantopere vidercmini? Vos 
 isto regis actore verbotiissimo, accusatore vcstro, " plus- 
 
 quam dimidium itineris confecistis ;" vos" ad quartum 
 actum et ultra in dramatc hoc desultando frigultientes 
 spectati estis :" vos " merito regis occisi criminc notari 
 debetis; ut qui viam ad ipsum occidendum muniistis;" 
 vos "nefariam illam securim cervicibus ejus inflixistis, 
 non alii." VfP vobis imprimis, si unqnam stirps Caroli 
 regnuni posthac in Anglos recuperabit: in vos, mihi 
 credite, cudetur bote faba. Sed Deo vota persolvite, 
 fratres diligite liberatores vestros, qui illam calami- 
 tatem atque certam perniciem ab invitis etiam vobi> 
 hactenus prohibucre. Postulamini vos item, quoil 
 " aliquot annos ante per varias petitiones jus regis ini- 
 minuere moliti estis, quod voces contumeliosas regi 
 illis ipsis libcllis quos nomine senatiis regi porrexistis, 
 insertas publicastis ;" videlicet "in ilia declaratione 
 dominorum et communium, Maii 26, 1642, aperte quid 
 sensistis de regis authoritate aliquot perduellioncm spi- 
 rantibus et insanis positionibus fassi estis. Hullte op- 
 pidi portas Hothamus, tali mandato a senatu accopto, 
 venienti regi occlusit ;" vos " quid rex pati posset, hoc 
 primo rebellionis experimento cognoscere concupivis- 
 tis." Quid hoc dici potuit accommodatius ad concili 
 andos inter se Anglorum animos, atqne a rege penitu.-. 
 abalienandos ? cum intelligcre hinc possint, si rex re- 
 vertatur, se non solum regis mortem, sed etiam peti- 
 tiones quondam suas, et frequentissimi parlamenti acta 
 de liturgia et episcopis abolendis, de triennali parla- 
 mento, et quaecunque sunimo populi consensu ac plausu 
 sancita sunt, tanquam seditiosas atque " insanas pres- 
 byterianorum positiones" luituros. Sed repente mu- 
 tat animum homo levissiraus; et quod niodo " rem 
 ipsam recte cestimanti " sibi videbatur solis presbyteri- 
 anis deberi, id nunc " rem " eandem " ab alto revol- 
 venti" independentibus totum deberi videtur. Modo 
 presbyterianos " vi aperta atque arm is contra regem 
 grassatos esse," eumque ab iis " bello victum, captum, 
 in carcerem conjectum" affirmabat, nunc omnem " banc 
 rebellionis doctrinam" independentium esse scribit. O 
 honiinis fidem et constantiam ! quid aliam jam opus est 
 narrationem comparare contra tuam, qute ipsa sibi tam 
 turpiter decoxit? Veriira de te siquis dubitat, albusnc 
 an ater homo sis, tua legat qufe sequuntur. " Tem- 
 pus est," inquis, " pandere unde et quando proruperit 
 inimica regibus secta : belli isti sane puritani sub reg- 
 no Elisabethse prodire tenebris Orci, et ecclesiam inde 
 turbare primum coeperunt, immo rempub. ipsam : non 
 enim sunt minores reipub. pestes quam ecclesi«e." Nunc 
 te verd Balaamum vox ipsa sonat; ubi enim virus omne 
 acerbitatis evomere cupiebas, ibi insciens atque invitus 
 benedixisti. Hoc enim tota Anglia notissimum est, si 
 qui ad exemplum ecclesiarum vel Gallicarum vol Ger- 
 manicarum, ut quasque reformatiores esse judicabant, 
 puriorem cultus divini rationem sequi studebant, quam 
 pend omnem episcopi nostri ctpremoniis et supcrstitioni- 
 bus contaminaverant, si qui tandem pietate erga Deura, 
 aut vitie integritate cueteris praestabant, eos ab episco- 
 porum fautoribus puritanos fuisse nominatos. Hi sunt 
 quorum doctrinam regibus inimicam esse clamitas ; ne- 
 que hi solum, nam " plerique reformatorum," inquis, 
 " qui in alios discipline ejus articulos non jurarunt, 
 hunc tamen unum videntur approbassc, qui regise ad- 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 701 
 
 versatur dominationi." Ita independentes, dum gra- 
 vissime insectaris, laudas ; qui eos ab integerrima 
 Christianorum familia deducis; etquam doctrinam in- 
 dependentium esse propriam ubique asseris, earn nunc 
 " reformatorutn plerosque approbasse" confiteris ; eo 
 usque demum audacioe, impietatis, apostasias provectus 
 es, ut etiam episcopos, quos tanquam pestes et Anti- 
 christos ex ecclesia radicitus evellendos, atque exter- 
 minandos esse nuper docuisti, eos nunc " a rege tuendos 
 fuisse" affirmas, ne quid " sacramento" scilicet " in- 
 augurationis derog-atum iret." Nihil est ulterius jam 
 sceleris aut infamiaB quo possis procedere, quam, quod 
 solum superest, ut reformatam, quam polluis, relig-io- 
 nem quamprimum ejures. Quod autem nos a'ls " om- 
 nes sectas et hcereses tolerare," id noli accusare ; quan- 
 diu te impium, qui Christianorum sanctissimos, et ple- 
 rosque etiam reformatos tibi adversos " e tenebris Orel 
 prodire" audes dicere, te vanum, mendacem, et con- 
 ductitium calumniatorem, te denique apostatam ecclesia 
 tamen toleret. Tuas autem exinde sycophantias, quibus 
 naagfnam reliqui capitis partem insumis, et quae mon- 
 strosa dogmata independcntibus, ad cumulandam iis 
 invidiam, affingis, quidni omittam ? cum neque ad 
 causam banc regiam omnino pertineant, et ea fer^ sint 
 qu8D risum potius aut contemptum ciijusvis quam refu- 
 tationem mereantur. 
 
 CAPUT XI. 
 
 Ad undecimum hoc caput videre mibi, Salmasi, quam- 
 vis nullo cum pudore, cum aliqua tamen conscientia 
 futilitatis tuae accedere. Ciirn enim hoc loco perquircn- 
 dum tibi proposueris " qua authoritate" pronuntiatum 
 de rege fucrit, subjungis, quod a te nemo expectabat; 
 " frustra id quceri;" scilicet " quoestioni huic vix locum 
 reliquit qualitas hominum qui id fecerc." Cum igitur, 
 quiim es iniportunitatis et impudentiae in hac causa 
 suscipienda compertus, tam sis nunc etiam loquacitatis 
 tibi conscius, eo a me brevius responsum feres. Quoe- 
 renti jam tibi " qua authoritate" ordo plebeius vel ju- 
 dicavit ipse regem, vel aliis id judicium delegavit, re- 
 spondeo supreraa : supremam quemadraodum habuerit, 
 docebunt te ea qucc tunc a me dicta sunt, ciim te supra 
 hac ipsa de re graviter ineptientem redarguercm. Quod 
 si tibi saltern crederes, posse te ullo tempore quod satis 
 est dicere, non eadem toties cantare odiosissime soleres. 
 Aliis autem delegare suam judicandi potestatem ordo 
 plebeius eadem sane ratione potuit, qua tu regem, qui 
 et ipse omnem potestatem a populo accepit, eandem 
 aliis delegare potuisse dicis. Unde in ilia solenni con- 
 ventione, quam nobis objecisti, ciim Angliae tum Sco- 
 tia3 summi ordines religiose profitentur ac spondent, ea 
 se supplicia de perduellibus esse sumpturos, " quibus 
 utriusque gentis potestas judiciaria suprema, aut qui ab 
 ea delegatam potestatem accepturi erant," plectendos 
 judicarent. Audis hie utriusque gentis senatum una 
 voce testantem se posse suam authoritatem judiciariam, 
 quam " supremam" ipsi vocant, aliis delegare : vanam 
 
 ergo et frivolam de ista potestatis delegatione contro- 
 versiam moves. At " cum his," inquis, "judicibuse 
 domo iuferiori selectis juncti etiam judices fuere ex co- 
 hortibus militaribus sumpti; nunquam autem militum 
 fuit civem judicare." Paucissimis te retundam ; non 
 enim de cive nunc, sed de hoste memineris nos loqui : 
 quem si imperator bellicus cum tribunis militaribus 
 suis, bello captum, et e vestigio, si ita videretur, oc- 
 cidendum,pro tribunali judicare voluerit, an quicquam 
 prceter jus belli aut morem censebitur fecisse? qui au- 
 tem hostis reipublicse, et bello captus est, ne pro cive 
 quidem is, nedum pro rege in ea repub. haberi potest. 
 Hanc ipsa lex regis Eduardi sacrosancta seutentiara 
 tulit; quae negat malum regem aut esse regem, aut 
 oportere regis nomine appellari. Ad illud autem quod 
 ais non " integram " plebis domum, sed " mancam et 
 mutilam de regis capite judicasse," sic habeto; eorum, 
 qui regem plectendum esse censebant, longe majorem 
 fuisse numerum, quam qui res quascunque in parla- 
 mento transigere, etiam per absentiam coeterorum, ex 
 lege debebant: qui cum suo vitio atque culpa abessent 
 (defectio enim animorum ad communem hostem pes- 
 sima absentia erat) nullam iis, qui in fide permanserant, 
 afferre nioram conservandjc reipub. poterant ; quam 
 vacillantem, et ad servitutem atque interitum prope 
 redactam, populus universus eorum fidei, prudentiae, 
 fortitudini, primo commiserat. Atque illi quidem 
 strenue rem gessere ; exulcerati regis impotentiae, fu- 
 rori, insidiis sese objecere ; omnium libertati atque 
 saluti suam posthabuere; omnia antehac parlamenta, 
 omnes majores suos prudentia, magnanimitate, con- 
 stantia supergressi. Hos tamen populi magna pars, 
 quamvis omnem illis fidem, operam, atque auxilium 
 pollicita, ingratis animis in ipso cursu deseruit. Pars 
 htec servitutem et pacem cum ignavia atque luxuria 
 ullis conditionibus volebat : pars altera tamen liber- 
 tatem poscebat, pacem non nisi firmam atque honestam. 
 Quid hie ageret senatus ? partem banc sanam, et sibi 
 et patriae fidelem defenderet, an desertricem illam se- 
 queretur? Scio quid agere oportuisse dices? non enim 
 Eurylochus, sed Elpenor es, id est vile animal Circae- 
 um, porcus immundus, turpissima servitute etiam sub 
 foemina assuetus; unde nullum gustum virtutiset, quae 
 ex ea nascitur, libertatis babes; omnes esse servos cu- 
 pis, quod nihil in tuo pectore generosum aut liberum 
 sentis, nihil non ignobile atque servile aut loqueris aut 
 spiras. Injicis porro scrupulum quod " et Scotise rex 
 erat, de quo statuimus," quasi idcircoin Angliaimpune 
 quidvis illi facere liceret. Ut hoc caput denique prae 
 caeteris elumbe atque aridum aliquo saltem facetedicto 
 queas concludere, " duae," inquis, " sunt voculae iisdem 
 ac totidem dementis constantes, solo literarum situ 
 differentes, sed immane quantum significatione differ- 
 entes, Vis, et Jus." Minime profecto mirum est, te 
 trium literarum hominem tam scitam ex tribus literis 
 argutiolam exculpere potuisse; hoc magis mirandum 
 est quod toto libro asseris, duas res tam inter se caete- 
 roqui " differentes," in regibus unum atque idem esse. 
 Quae enim vis est unquam a regibus facta, quam non 
 jus regium tuesse affirmasti ? Haec sunt quae novem 
 paginis bene longis responsione digna auimadvertere 
 
702 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLTCANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 potui ; caetera sunt ea, qiiee aut identidcm repetita 
 baud semcl refutavimus, aut ad hanc causam discep- 
 tandam nullum liabcnt momentum. Itaque solito nunc 
 brerior si sum, id non meae dilig-cntioe, quam in liuc 
 summo t<x*dio lang-uescere non patior, sed tuae loquaci- 
 tati, rerum et rationum tam cass» atque inani, impu- 
 tandum erit. 
 
 CAPUT XII. 
 
 Vellem equidem, Salmasi, ne cui fort^ videar in 
 rcgfem Carolum, suo fato atque supplicio defunctum, 
 iniquior esse aut acerbior, ut totum bunc de " crimini- 
 bus ejus " locum, quod et tibi et tuis consultius fuisset, 
 silentio practeriisses. Nunc vero quoniam id magis 
 placuit, ut de iis praefidenter et verbos^ diceres, faoiam 
 profecto ut intelligas, nihil a te fieri incog-itantius po- 
 tuisse, quam ut deterrimam causae tuee partem, nempe 
 ejus crimina, ad extremum refricanda et accuratiiis in- 
 quirenda reservarcs ; quae, cum vera et atrocissima 
 ostendero fuisse, et ejus memoriam omnibus bonis in- 
 gratam atque invisam, et tui defensoris odium quam 
 maximum in animis legcntium novissime relinquant. 
 " Dute," inquis, " partes ejus accusationis fieri pos- 
 sunt ; una in reprebensione vitae versatur, altera in 
 delictis quae tanquam rex potuit committere. Et vitam 
 quidem ejus inter convivia, et ludos, et foeminarum 
 greg'es dilapsam facile tacebo : quid enim habet luxus 
 dignum memoratu ? Aut quid haec ad nos, si tantum 
 privatus fecisset? postquam voluit rex esse, ut nee sibi 
 Tivere, ita ne peccare quidem sibi solum potuit." Pri- 
 mum enim exemplo suis vehementissim^ nocuit; se- 
 cundo loco, quod temporis libidinibus et rebus ludicris 
 impendit, quod erat plurimum, id totum reipub., quam 
 susceperat gubernandam, subduxit ; postremo im- 
 mensas opes, innumcrabilem pecuniam non suam, sed 
 publicam luxu domestico dilapidavit. Itaque domi 
 rex malus primum esse coepit. Verum ad ea [>otius 
 crimina " quse mal6 regnando commisisse arguitur" 
 transeamus. Hie doles " tjrannum" eum, " prodito- 
 rcm," et " homicidam" fuisse judicatum. Id non inju- 
 ria factum demonstrabitur. Tyrannum autem prius, 
 non ex vulgi opinione, sed ex Aristotelis et doctorum 
 omnium judicio definiamus. Tjrannus est qui suam 
 duntaxat, non populi utilitatem spectat. Ita Aristoteles 
 etbicorum decimo, et alibi, ita alii plerique. Suane 
 commoda an populi spectarit Carolus, pauca hcec de 
 multis, quae tantummodo perstringam, testimonio erunt. 
 Cum aulae sumptibus patrimonium et proventus regii 
 non sufficerent, imponit gravissima populo tributa ; 
 iisque absumptis, nova excogitavit ; non ut rempub. 
 vel augeret, vel ornaret, vel defenderet, sed ut populi 
 non unius opes vel unam in domum congerendas in- 
 fcrret, vel una in domo dissiparct. Hunc in modum 
 sine lege cum pervolaret omnia, quod unicum scicbat 
 sibi fraeno fure, parlamentum aut funditus abolere, aut 
 convocatum baud stepius quam id suis ratiunibus con- 
 duceret, sibi soli reddere obuoxium conatus est. Quo 
 
 frceno sibi detracto, aliud ipse populo frtenum injecit ; 
 Germanos equites, pedites Hibernos per urbes, perque 
 oppida quasi in prcesidiis, ciim bcllum esset nullum, 
 collocandos curavit : parumne tibi adhuc tyrannus vi- 
 detur.'* In quo etiam, ut in aliis multis rebus, quod 
 supra per occasionem abs te datam ostendi (qnanquam 
 tu Carolum Neroni crudelissimo conforri indignaris) 
 Neroni perquam similis erat : nam et senatum illc 6 
 repub. se sublaturum persaepe erat minatus. Interea 
 conscientiis religiosorum hominum supra modum gra- 
 vis, ad caeremonias quasdam et supei*stitiosos cultus, 
 quos e medio papismo in ecclesiam rcduxcrat, omncs 
 adigebat; renucntes aut exilio aut carcere multabat; 
 Scotos bis cam ob causam bello adortus est. Hue 
 usque simplici saltern vice nomen tyranni commcruiss( 
 videatur. Nunc cur adjectum in accusatione proditoris 
 nomen fuerit exponam. Cum huic parlamento stepius 
 pollicitis, edictis, exccrationibus confirmasset, se nihil 
 contra rempub. moliri, eodem ipso tempore aut papis- 
 tarum delectus in Hibernia babebat, aut legatis ad re- 
 gem Daniae clanculum missis, arma, equos, auxilium 
 diserte contra parlamentum petebat, aut exercitum 
 nunc Anglorurn nunc Scotorum pretio sollicitabat ; 
 illis urbem Londinum diripiendani,his quatuor proviii- 
 cias Aquilonares Scotorum ditioni adjungendas pro- 
 misit, si sibi ad parlamentum quoquo mode toUendum 
 commodare suam operam vellent. Cum haec non suc- 
 cederent, cuidam Dillonio perduelli dat secretiora ad 
 Hibernos mandata, quibus juberentur omnes Anglos 
 ejus insulae colonos repent^ armis adoriri. Haec fere 
 proditionum ejus monumenta sunt, non vanis rumoribus 
 collecta, sed ipsis literis ipsius manu subscriptis atque 
 signatis comperta. Homicidam denique fuisse, cujus 
 acceptis mandatis Hiberni arma ceperint, ad quinquies 
 centena millia Anglorum in summa pace nihil tale 
 metuentium exquisitis cruciatibus occiderint, qui etiam 
 tantum reliquis duobus regiiis bellum civile conflarit, 
 neminem puto negaturum. Addo enim quod in illo 
 Vectensi colloquio hujus belli et culpam et crimen rex 
 palam in se suscepit, eoque omni parlamentum notissi- 
 raa confessione sua liberavit. Habes nunc breviter 
 quamobrem rex Carolus et tyrannus et proditor et 
 homicida judicatus fuerit. At " cur non prius," inquis, 
 neque in illo "solenni faedere," neque postea cum de- 
 dititius esset, vel " a presby terianis" vel " ab iudependen- 
 tibus" sic judicatus est, sed potiiis, " ut regem decuit 
 accipi, omni reverentia est exceptus .'"' Vel hoc solo 
 argumento persuader! cuivis intelligenti queat, non 
 nisi sero tandem, et postquam omnia sustinuerant, om- 
 nia tentaverant, omnia perpessi erant, deliheratum 
 ordinibus fuisse regem abjicere. Tu id solus nialitios& 
 nimis in invidiam rapis, quod summam eorum patien- 
 tiam, acquanimitatem, moderationcm, fastusque regii 
 tolcrantiam nimis fortasse lougam apud omnes bonos ' 
 tcstabitur. At " mense Augusto qui praecessit ejus 
 supplicium, domus communium, quae sola jam turn 
 rcgnabat et indcpendcntibus eratobnoxia,scripsit Htcras 
 ad Scotos, quibus testabatur, nunquam sibi in aiiimo 
 fuisse mulare statum,qui hue usque in Anglia obtinuerat 
 sub rege, domo dominorum ct communium." Vide jam 
 quum non doctrinre independentium abrogatio regis 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 703 
 
 attribuenda sit. Qui suam dissimulare doctrinam non 
 Solent, etiam potiti reruni profitentur " nunquam sibi 
 in aiiimo f'uisse statum regni mntare." Quod si id 
 postmodiim in mentem venit, quod in animo non fuit, 
 cur non licebat quod rectius, et e repub. mag'is esse 
 videbatur, id potissimum sequi ? prsesertim cum Carolus 
 neque exorari, neque flecti ullo inodo potuerit, ut jus- 
 tissimis eorum postulatis, quseque semper eadem ab 
 initio obtulerant, assentiretur. Quas initio de religione, 
 quas de jure suo sententias perversissimas tuebatur, 
 nobisque adeo calamitosas, in iisdem permanebat : ab 
 illo Carolo nihil mutatus, qui et pace et bello tanta 
 nobis omnibus mala intulerat. Siquid est assensus, id 
 et invit6 facere, et quamprimiim sui juris foret, pro ni- 
 Lilo se habiturum baud obscuris indiciis sig-nificabat : 
 idem aperte filius, abducta sccum per eos dies classis 
 parte, scripto, idem ipse per literas ad suos quosdam in 
 urbe declarabat. Interea cum Hibernis Anglorum 
 faostibus immanissimis, reclamante parlamento, focdis 
 conditionibus occulte pacem coagmentaverat, Anglos 
 ad repetita inutiliter colloquia et pacem quoties invita- 
 bat, toties contra eos omni studio bellum coquebat. 
 Hie illi quibus concredita respub. erat, quo se verte- 
 rent? an commissam sibi nostram omnium salutem in 
 manus hosli acerbissimo traderent ? An alterum belli 
 prop6 internecini septennium, nequid pejus ominemur, 
 gcrendum nobis itcrum, et exantlandum relinquerent ? 
 Deus meliorem illis mentem injecit, ut prioribus de 
 rege non movendo cogitationibus, non enim ad decreta 
 pervenerant, rempub., religionem, libertatcm ex ipso 
 illo foedere solenni anteponerent ; quoe quidem stante 
 rege constare non posse, tardiiis illi quidem quam 
 oportuit, sed aliquando tamen viderunt. San6 parla- 
 mento nunquam non liberum atque integrum esse de- 
 bet, ex re nata quam optime reipub. consulere ; neque 
 ita se prioribus addicere sententiis, ut religio sit in 
 posterum, etiamsi Deus dederit, vel sibi, vel reipub. 
 plus sapere. At " Scoti non idem sentiunt, quiuimo 
 ad filium Carolum scribentes, sacratissimum regem 
 appellant parentem ejus, et sacerrimum facinus quo 
 necatus est." Cave plura de Scotis, quos non novisti; 
 nos novimus, cum eundem regem " sacerrimum," et 
 homicidam et proditorem ; facinus quo tyrannus neca- 
 retur, " sacratissimum" appellarent. Nunc regi quam 
 dicam scripsimus, quasi parum commode scriptam 
 cavillaris, et " quid opus fuerit ad elogium illud tjranni 
 addere proditoris et homicidae titulos," q uteris : " cum 
 tyranni appellatio omnia mala comprehendat :" turn 
 quis tyrannus sit grammatics et glossematice etiam 
 doces. Aufer nugas istas, literator, quas una Aristote- 
 lis definitio modo allata nullo uegotio difflabit ; queeque 
 te doctorem docebit nomen tyranni, quoniam tua nihil 
 interest preeter nomina intelligere, posse citra pro- 
 ditionera et homicidium stare. Atqui " leges Angli- 
 cance non dicunt proditionis crimen regem incurrere si 
 procuraverit seditionem contra se vel populum suum." 
 Neque dicunt, inquam, parlamentum laesce majestatis 
 reum esse, si malum regem tollat, aut unquam fuisse, 
 cum saepius olim sustulerit : posse autem regem suam 
 majestatem Itedere atque minuere, immo amittere, clara 
 voce tcstantur. Quod enim in ilia lege sancti Edouardi 
 
 legitur, " nomen regis perdere," nihil aliud est quam 
 regio munere ac dignitate privari ; quod accidit Chil- 
 perico Francise regi, cujus exemplum illustrandse rei 
 causa eodem loco lex ipsa ponit. Committi autem 
 summam perduellionem tam in regnum, quam in re- 
 gem, non est apud nos jurisperitus qui inficias ire pos- 
 sit. Provoco ad ipsum, quern profers Glanvillanum. 
 " Siquis aliquid fecerit in mortem regis, vel seditionem 
 regni, crimen proditionis esse." Sic ilia machinatio, 
 qua papistee quidem parlamenti curiam cum ipsis ordi- 
 nibus uno ictu pulveris nitrati in auras disjicere 
 parabant, non in regem solum, sed in parlamentum et 
 regnum, ab ipso Jacobo et utraque ordinum domo 
 " summa proditio " judicata est. Quid plura attinet 
 in re tam evidenti, quae tamen facile possem, statuta 
 nostra allegare ? ciim ridiculum plane sit et ratione 
 ipsa abhorrens, committi perduellionem in regem 
 posse, in populum non posse, propter quem et cujus 
 gratia, cujus, ut ita dicam, bona Tenia, rex est id 
 quod est. Frustra igitur tot statuta nostra deblateras, 
 frustra in vetustis legum Anglicarum libris exerces te 
 atque volutas; ad quas vel ratas vel irritas babendas 
 parlamenti authoritas semper valuit; cujus etiam so- 
 lius est, quid sit perduellio, quid laesa majestas, inter- 
 pretari : quam majestatem nunquam sic a populo in 
 regem transiisse, ut non multo celsior atque angustior 
 in parlamento conspiciatur, jam stepius ostendi. Te 
 veto vappam et circulatorem Galium jura nostra in- 
 terpretantem quis ferat .-* Vos vero Anglorum per- 
 fugtE,tot episcopi,doctores, jurisconsulti,qui literaturara 
 omnem et eruditionem vobiscum ex Anglia aufugisse 
 proedicatis, adeone ex vestriim numero nullus causam 
 regiam atque suam defendere satis strenue satisque 
 latine sciebat, gentibusque exteris dijudicandam expo- 
 nere, ut cerebrosus iste et crumenipeta Gallus mercede 
 accersendus in partes necessario esset, qui regis inopis, 
 tot doctorum et sacerdotum infantia stipati, patrociniura 
 susciperet? magna, mihi credite, infamia etiam hoc 
 nomine apud exteras nationes flagrabitis ; et merito 
 vos utique cecidisse causa omnes existimabunt, quam 
 ne verbis quidem, nedum armis aut virtute sustinere 
 valuistis. Sed ad te redeo, vir bone, dicendi perite, si 
 tute raodo ad te rediisti; nam sternentem te lam prope 
 finem et de " morte" voluutaria nescio quid abs re 
 somniantem ofTendo ; tum statim negas " cadere in 
 regem sute mentis compotem, ut populum seditionibus 
 distrahat, exercitus suos hostibus debellandos tradat, ut 
 factiones contra se suscitet." Quae omnia cum et alii 
 multi reges, et Carolus ipse fecerit, dubitare non potes, 
 prjBsertim Stoicus, quin ut omnes improbi, sic omnes 
 quoque tyranni prorsus insaniant. Flaccum audi. 
 
 Quem mala stultitia, et qusecunque inscitia veri 
 Coecum agit, insanum Chrysippi porticus et grex 
 Autumat, hsec populos, haec magnos formula reges, 
 Excepto sapiente, tenet. 
 
 Si igitur insani cujuspiam facti crimen a rege Carolo 
 amovere cupis, debebis improbitatem ab eo prius amo- 
 vere quam insaniam. At enim " rex non potuit pro- 
 ditionem in eos committere, qui vassalli ipsius et sub- 
 jecti fuere." Primum, c»~'m aeque atque uUa gens 
 
704 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 hominum liberi simus, nullum barbanim morcm fraudi 
 nobis esse patieniur: fac doinde " vassalos" fiiisse iios 
 regis, ne sic quidera tyrannum perferre dominuni leiie- 
 mur. Omiiis ea subjectio, ut ipsee le{fes iiostrue loquiin- 
 tur, " hoiicsto et utili" defiiiita est. Leg'. Hen. I. c. 
 55. Fidem cam esse *' mutuam," jurisconsuiti omncs 
 tradunt, si dominus " ligeam," quod aiunt, " defcn- 
 sionem" pra'stitcrit : sin e contrario niniiiim s;cvus 
 fuerit, aut atrocem aliquam injuriam intulerit, " dis- 
 solvi et penitus extingui omnem homagii conne.\io- 
 nem." Hjbc ipsa Bractoni verba et Fletie sunt. Unde 
 vassallum est ubi lex ipsa in doniinum armat; eumque 
 singulari certamine a vassalo, si accidorit, interinien- 
 duni tradit. Idem si universre civitati aut nationi in 
 tyrannum non licuerit,deteriorliberorum hominum con- 
 ditio quam servorum erit. Nunc Caroli bomicidia alio- 
 rum regiim partim homicidiis, partim juste factis excu- 
 sare coutendis. De laniena Hibernicnsi " remittis lecto- 
 rem ad opus illud regium Iconis Basilicte;" et ego te 
 remitto ad Iconoclastem. "Captam RiipeIlam,"proditos 
 Rupellenses, " ostentatam potiiis quam datam opem," 
 imputari Carolo non vis : imputetur necne merito, non 
 babeo dicere ; satis superque ab eo peccatum est domi, 
 ne externa persequi curem : omnes interim ecclesias 
 protestantium, quotquot ullo tempore se contra leges 
 religionis hostes armis defenderunt, eodera nomine re- 
 bellionis damnas. Quam contumeliam ab alumno suo 
 sibi illatam quanti intersit ad disciplinam ecclesias- 
 ticam, suamque tueudam integritatem, non negligere, 
 secum ipsi cogitent : nos etiam Anglos ea expeditione 
 proditos acerbe tulimus. Qui enim regnum Anglise in 
 tyrannidem convertere diu meditatus erat, non, nisi 
 extincto prius militari civium robore ac flore, cogitata 
 perficere se posse arbitrabatur. Aliud erat crimen 
 regis quod ex jurejurando a regibus reg[num capes- 
 sentibus dari solito verba quaedam ejus jussu erasa 
 fuerint, antequam jurasset. O facinus indignum et 
 execrandum ! impium qui fecit, quid dicam qui de- 
 fendit.'* nam quas potuit, per Deum immortalem, quae 
 perfidia, aut juris violatio esse major.'' quid illi sanc- 
 tius post sacratissima religionis mysteria illo jurejuran- 
 do esse debuit .'' Quis queeso sceleratior, isne qui in 
 legem peccat, an qui, secum legem ipsam ut peccare fa- 
 ciat, dat operam ? aut denique ipsam legem tollit, ne 
 peccasse videatur? Agedum, jus hoc religiosissimil! ju- 
 randum rex iste violavit ; sed ne palam tamen violasse 
 videretur, turpissimo quodam adultcrio per dolum cor- 
 rupit; et ne pejerasse diceretur, jus ipsum jurandum in 
 perjurium vertit. Quid aliud potuit sperari, nisi injus- 
 tissim^, rersutissime, atque infelicissime regnaturum 
 esse eum, qui ab injuria tam detestanda auspicatus 
 regnum est ; jusque illud primum adulterarc auderet, 
 quod solum impedimento sibi fore, ne jura omnia per- 
 verteret, putebat. At enim " sacramentum" illud, 
 sic enim defendis, " non magis obligare reges potest, 
 quam leges; legibus autem se devinciri velle prae se 
 ferunt, et secundum eas vivere, ciim tamen re vera iis 
 soluti sint." Quemquamne tam sacrilege tamque in- 
 cest© ore esse, ut sacramentum religiosissimum, tactis 
 Evangeliis datum, quasi per se leviculum, solvi sine 
 causa posse asserat.' Te vero, scelus atque portenlum, 
 
 ipse Carolus redarguit; qui ciim sacramentum illut 
 non esse per se leve quidpiam existimaret, idcirco ejus 
 religionem aut subterfngere, aut fallacia quavis eludere 
 satius duxit, quam apert6 violare ; et corrupter jusju- 
 randi bujus et falsarius esse maluit, quam manifest' 
 perjurus. At vero " jurat quidem rex populo suo, ui 
 populus vicissim regi, sed populus jurat rcgi fidelita- 
 tcm, non j)opulo rex." Lepidum sane hominis com- 
 mentum ! annon qui juratus promittit atque spondet, se 
 quidpiam fidcliter praestiturum, fidem suam iis obligat, 
 qui jusjurandum ab eo exigunt? Rex san^ omnis quoad 
 proestanda ea quae promittit, et " fidclitatem," et " ob- 
 sequium," et " obedientiam populo" jurat. Hie ad 
 Gulielmum Conquaeslorem recurris, qui ipse, non quod 
 sibi collibitum erat, sed quod populus ab eo et mag- 
 nates postulabant, id omne baud seniel jurare est coac- 
 tusseproestiturum. Quod si multi reges " coronam" 
 solenni ritu non " accipiunt," et proinde non jurant, et 
 tamen regnant, idem de populo responderi potest; cu- 
 jus pars magna fidelitatcm nunquam juravit. Si rex 
 ob cam causam solutus erit, erit et populus. Quae 
 autem pars populi jurabat, non regi solum, sed regno 
 et legibus jurabat, a quibus rex factus est, et quidem 
 eatenus tantum regi, quoad is leges observaret, " quas 
 vulgus," id est, communitas sive plebeius ordo " elege- 
 rit." Stultior enim sit, qui legum nostrarum loquelam 
 ad puriorem semper latinitatem exigere velit. Hanc 
 clausulam, " quis vulgus elegerit," Carolus, antequam 
 coronam acciperet, ex formula juramenti rcgii eraden- 
 dam curavit. At, inquis, " sine regis assensu nullas 
 leges vulgus elegerit;" eoque nomine duo statuta 
 citas, unum anni xxxvii. Hen. 6. c. xv. alterum " de- 
 cimo-tertio" Edouardi iv. c. viii. Tantum autem abcst, 
 quo minus eorum alterutrum in Hbro statutorum usquam 
 appareat, ut annis abs te citatis, neque rex iste neque 
 ille ullum omnino statutum promulgaverit. Tu fidem 
 jam perfugarum, statuta tibi dictantium, elusus que- 
 rere; dum alii tuam admirantur impudentiam simul et 
 vanitatem, quem non pudebat iis in libris versatissimum 
 videri velle, quos inspexisse nunquam, ne vidisse qui- 
 dem tam facile argueris. Clausulam autem istam jus- 
 jurandi, quam tu perfricti oris balatro " commentitiam" 
 audcs dicere, " rej^is," inquis, " defensores fieri posse 
 aiunt," ut in aliquot antiquis exemplaribus extiterit, 
 " sed in desuetudinem abiise, quod commodam signi- 
 ficationem non haberet. Verum ob id ipsum majores 
 nostri illam clausulam in hoc regis jurejurando posuere, 
 ut significationem tyrannidi semper non commodam 
 haberet. In desuetudinem autem si abierat, quod ta- 
 men falsissimum est, quis ncget multo meliori jure 
 revocandam fuissc ? frustra, si te audiam : quippe " in 
 regibus'' mos ille "jurandi, qui hodie receptus est, 
 caeremonialis est tantum." Atqui rex, cum episcopos 
 aboleri oportuit, per illud jusjurandum non licere sibi 
 causatus est. Atque ita sacramentum illud sanctissi- 
 mum, quotics ex usu est regis, vel solidum quiddam et 
 firmum erit, vel inane tantum et " ccercmoniale." Quod 
 ego vos obtcstor, Angli, etiam atque etiam animadver- 
 tatis : et qualem estis regem habituri, si rcdierit, vobis- 
 cum rcputetis: non enim in mentem venisset unquam 
 huic grammatico sceleroso ct extranco de jure regis 
 
PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 706 
 
 Anglorum velle scribere, aut posse, nisi Carolus ille 
 extorris, disciplina patria imbiitus, unaque illi moiii- 
 tores ejus proflig'atissiQii, quid bac de re scribi vellent 
 onini studio suggessissent. Dictabant buic illi, " totuin 
 parlamcntum proditionis in reg-eni insimulari posse," 
 vel ob boc solum, quod " sine assensu regis declaravit 
 omnes esse proditorcs qui arma contra parlamentum 
 Angliae sumpserunt; vassallum scilicet regis esse par- 
 lamentum;" jusjurandum vero regium " cseremoniale 
 tantum" esse, quidni "vassallum" etiam ? Ita neque 
 legum ulla sanctitas, neque sacramenti ulla fides, aut 
 religio, quicquam valebit ad cohibendam a vita atque 
 fortunis vestrum omnium vel libidinem effrsenati regis, 
 vel ultionem exacerbati : qui ita institutus a pueritia est, 
 ut leges et religionem, ipsam denique fidem vassallari 
 sibi, et servire suis libitis arbitretur debere. Quanto 
 prsestabilins esset, vobisque dignius, si opes, si liber- 
 tatem, si pacem, si imperium vultis, a virtute, indus- 
 tria, prudentia, fortitudine vestra indubitanter petere 
 hsBC omnia, quani sub regio dominatu incassum spe- 
 rare ? Certd- qui sine rege ac domino parari haec posse 
 non putant, dici non potest, quam abjecte, quam non 
 honest^, non dico quam indign^, de se ipsi statuant : 
 quid enim aliud nisi se inertes, imbecillos, mentis in- 
 opcs atque consilii, corpore atque animo ad servitiam 
 natos, fatcntur esse ? Et servitus quidem omnis bomini 
 ingenuo turpis est; vobis autem post libertatem Deo 
 vindice, vcstroque marte recupcratam, post tot fortia 
 facinora, et exemplum in regem potentissimum tam 
 mcmorabile cditum, velle rursus ad servitutem, etiam 
 prcieter fatum, redire, non modo turpissimuni, sed et 
 impium erit, et sceleratum : parque vestrum scelus il- 
 lorum sceleri erit, qui, servitutis olim ^gypiiacce desi- 
 derio capti, multis tandem cladibus ac variis divinitus 
 absumpti, liberatori Deo pa>nas tam servilis animi de- 
 dcrc. Quid tu interim, servitutis conciliator? " Potuit," 
 inquis, " rex proditionis et delictorura aliorum gratiam 
 facere; quod satis evincit legibuseum solutum fuisse." 
 Proditionis quidem, non quae in regnum, sed qute in 
 se commissa erat, poterat rex, ut quivis alius, gratiam 
 facere : poterat et quorundam aliorum fortasse malefi- 
 ciorum, quanquam non id semper: an ideo qui malefi- 
 cum servandi nonnunquam jus quoddam babet, idem 
 continue omnes bonos perdendi jus ullum babebit ? 
 Citatus in curiam, eamque inferiorem, respondere non 
 tenetur, nisi per procuratorem, rex, uti nee de populo 
 quidem ullus ; an ideo in parlamentum citatus ab uni- 
 versis non veniet? non ipse respondebit? " Conari" 
 nos, ais, " Batavorum exemplo factum nostrum tueri," 
 atque bine, stipendio scilicet metuens, quo te Batavi 
 luem atque pestem alunt, ne Anglos infamando etiam 
 Batavos altores tuos infamasse videaris, demonstrare 
 cupisquam "dissimile sit quod bi et quod illi fecerunt." 
 Quam ego coUationem tuam, quanquam in ea qusedam 
 sunt falsissima, alia, ne salario fortasse tuo non satis 
 litares, palpum olent, omittam. Negant enim Angli 
 opus sibi esse, ut exterorum quorumvis exemplo facta 
 sua tueantur. Habent leges, quas secuti sunt, patrias, 
 bac in parte, sicubi teiTarum aliae sunt, optimas : habent 
 quos imitentur, majores suos, viros fortissimos, qui im- 
 moderatis regum imperiis nunquam cessere ; raultos 
 
 eorum intolerantiusse gereutesper suppliciumnecavere. 
 In libertate sunt nati, sibi sufficiunt, quas volunt leges 
 possunt sibi ferre; unamprae cseteris colunt antiquissi- 
 mam, a natura ipsa latam, quae omnes leges, jus omne 
 atque imperium civile, non ad regum libidinem, sed ad 
 bonorum raaxime civium salutem refert. Jam proeter 
 quisquilias et rudera superiorura capitum restare nihil 
 video ; quorum quidem acervum cum satis magnum in 
 fine congesseris, uescio quid aliud tibi volueris, nisi 
 hujus tuae fabricae ruinam quasi prsesagire. Tandem 
 aliquando post immensam loquacitatem rivos claudis ; 
 " Deum testatus, te banc causam tuendam suscepisse, 
 non tantum quia rogatus, sed quia meliorem nullam te 
 potuisse defendere, conscieutia tibi suggessit." Roga- 
 tus tu in res nostras tibi alienissimas, nobis non rogan- 
 tibus, te interponas ? Tu populi Anglicani summos 
 magistratus j)ro autboritate proque imperio sibi com- 
 misso quod suum munus est in sua ditione agentes, 
 nulla injuria lacessitus (neque enim natum te esse 
 sciebaut) indignissimis verborum comtumeliis laceres, 
 libroque infami edito proscindas ? A quo autem roga- 
 tus? An ab uxore, credo, qua; jus regium, ut pcrbibent, 
 in te exercet ; quaeque tibi, quoties libet, ut ilia Ful- 
 via, cujus, ex epigrammate obscoeno, centones modo 
 consuisti (p. 320.) "aut" scribe " aut pugnemus" ait: 
 unde tu, ne signa canerent, scribere malebas. An ro- 
 gatus fortasse a Carolo minore, et perditissimo illo 
 peregrinantium aulicorum grege, quasi alter Balaamus 
 ab altero Balacco rege accersitus, ut jacentem regis 
 causam, et male pugnando amissam maledicendo eri- 
 gere dignarere ? Sic sane fieri potuit; nisi quod hoc 
 fere interfuit; ille enim vir sagax asino insidens locu- 
 tuleio ad execrandum vcnit ; tu asinus loquacissimus 
 insessus a foeraina, et senatis, quos vulneraveras, epis- 
 coporum capitibus obsitus, apocalypticie illius bestite 
 parvam quandam imaginem exprimere videris. Sed 
 ferunt poenituisse te hujus libri, post paulo quam 
 scripsisses. Bene profecto habet ; tuam itaque ut tes- 
 tere omnibus poenitentiam, nihil tibi prius faciendum 
 erit, qu^m ut pro libro tam longo unam tantummodo 
 literam adhuc longam ex te facias. Sic enim pcenituit 
 Iscarioten ilium Judam, cui similis es ; idque novit puer 
 Carolus, qui crumenam idcirco tibi, insigne illud Judse 
 proditoris, dono niisit, quod primum audierat, et postmo- 
 dura sciebat, te apostatam esse et diabolum. Judas ille 
 Christum prodirlit, tu Christi ecclesiam ; episcopos Anti- 
 christos essedocueras,ad eos defecisti : quos Inferisdam- 
 naveras, eorum causam suscepisti : Christus omnes homi- 
 nes liberavit, tu omnes ad servitutem redigere conatus 
 es: ne dubita, postquam in Deum, in ecclesiam, in 
 omne genus hominum tam impius fuisti, quin te etiam 
 idem exitus maneat, ut desperatione magis quam poeni- 
 tentia ductus, tuique pertaesus, ab infelici tandem 
 arbore pendens, sicut et par ille tuus olim, medius cre- 
 pes ; illamque malefidam et fallacem conscientiam, bo- 
 norum et sanctorum insectatricem, ad destinatas tibi 
 quandoque supplicii sedes praemittas. Hactenus, quod 
 initio institueram ut meorum civium facta egregia con- 
 tra insanam et lividissimam furentis sopbistae rabiem, 
 et domi et foris defenderem, jusque populi commune 
 ab injusto regum dominatu assererem, non id quidem 
 
706 
 
 PRO POPULO ANGLICANO DEFENSIO. 
 
 regum odio, sed tyrannorum, Deo bene juvante videor 
 jam tnihi absolvisse : neque ullum sincresponso vel ar- 
 gumentum, vel exemplum, vel testimonium ab adver- 
 sario allatum sciens prsetennisi, quod quidem firmitatis 
 in sequidquam, aut probationis vim ullam habere vidc- 
 retur ; in alteram fortasse partem culpae propior, quod 
 saepiuscule ineptiis quoque ejus, et argutiis tritissimis, 
 quasi argumentis, respondendo, id iis tribuisse videar, 
 quo digiite non erant. Unum restat, et fortasse maxi- 
 mum, ut vos quoque, 6 cives, adversarium hunc vestrum 
 ipsi refutetis; quod nulla alia ratione video posse fieri, 
 nisi omnium maledicta vestris optim6 factis exuperare 
 perpetuo contendatis. Vota vestra et preces ardentis- 
 simas Deus, cum servitutis baud uno genere oppressi, 
 ad eum confugistis, benign^ exaudiit. Quoe duo in 
 vita hominum mala sane maxima sunt, et virtuti dam- 
 nosissima, tjrannis et superstitio, iis vos gentium pri- 
 mos gloriose liberavit ; eam animi magnitudinem vo- 
 bis injecit, ut devictum armis vestris et dedititium re- 
 gem judicio incljtojudicare, et condemnatum punire, 
 primi mortalium non dubitaretis. Post hoc facinus 
 tam illustre, nihil humile aut angustum, nihil non mag- 
 num atque excelsum et cogitare et facere debebitis. 
 Quam laudem ut assequamini, bac sola incedendum 
 est via, si ut hostes bello domuistis, ita ambitionem, 
 avaritiam, opes, et secundarum rerum corruptelas, 
 
 quae subigunt caeteras gentes hominum, ostenderitis 
 posse vos etiam inermes media in pace omnium morta- 
 lium fortissimo debellare : si, quam in repellenda ser- 
 vitute fortitudinem priestitistis, eam in libcrtate con- 
 servanda justitiam, temperantiam, modcrationem pru- 
 stiteritis. His solis argumentis et testimoniis evincere 
 potestis, non esse vos illos, quos hie probris insequitur, 
 " Perduelles, latrones, sicarios, parricidas, fanaticos ; " 
 non vos ambitionis aut alieni invadendi studio, non se- 
 ditione, aut pravis ullis cupiditatibus, non amentia aut 
 furore percitos, regem trucidasse, sed amore libertatis, 
 religionis, justitise, honestatis, patriae denique chari- 
 tate accensos, tyrannum puniisse. Sin autem, quod, 
 bone Deus, ne unquam siveris, aliter in animum iii- 
 duxeritis, si in bello fortes, in pace turpes eritis, qui 
 manifestum sensistis numen vobis tam propitium, hos- 
 tibus tam grave, neque exemplo tam insigni et memo- 
 rando ante oculos posito, Deum vereri, et justitiam co- 
 lere didiceritis ; quod ad me attinet, concedam sane ct 
 fatebor, neque enim potero negare, ea omnia, quae 
 nunc maledici et mendaces de vobis pessinic aut lo- 
 quuntur aut sentiunt, vera esse : vosque multo iratio- 
 rem brevi tempore experturi estis Deum, quam aut in- 
 fensum inimici vestri, aut vos benignum et faventem 
 et patemum, prae caeteris omnibus terrarum orbis gen- 
 tibus hodiemis, experti estis. 
 
DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM, 
 
 RKOII SANGUINIS CLAMOR AD CCEI.UM, ADVF.RSUS PARRICIDAS ANGLICANOS. 
 
 [F1I18T PUBI.ISHFD 1654.] 
 
 Quod in omni vita hominuin, omnique genere officii 
 est primum, iit grati semper erga Deum, ejusque me- 
 mores beneficiorum simiis, tiim propsertim, si qua supra 
 spem votumque evenerint, uti, ob ea, singulares atque 
 solennes gratias quamprinium referanius, id mihi nunc 
 in ipso limine orationis tribus potissimum de causis 
 video esse faciendum. Primum iis me natum tempori- 
 bus patriae, quibus civium virtus eximia, et superyrcssa 
 omnes majorum laudes magnitude animi atque con- 
 stantia, obtestata priiis Deum, eundemquc sequuta 
 manifestissimum ducem, editis post orbera conditum 
 exemplis factisquc fortissimis, et gravi dominatione 
 rempublicaro, et indignissima servitute religionem libe- 
 ravit. Deinde, ciim extitissent subito multi, qui, ut 
 est fer^ ingenium vulgi, egregie facta odiose crimina- 
 rentur, unusque, pras caeteris, literatorio fastu, et con- 
 cepta de se gregalium suorum opinione inflatus ac 
 iidens, conscripto in nos libro admodum infami, tyran- 
 norum omnium patrocinium nefari^ suscepisset, me 
 potius quam alium quemvis, neque tanti nominis ad- 
 versario, neque tantis rebus dicendis visum imparem, 
 ab ipsis patrise liberatoribus has partes accepisse com- 
 muni omnium consensu ultro delatas, ut causam et 
 populi Anglicani, et ipsius adeo libertatis, siquis un- 
 quam alius, publice defenderem. Postremo, in re tam 
 ardua et expectationis plena, neque civium meorum de 
 me sive spem, sive judicium illud fefellisse, neque ex- 
 terorura quamplurimis cum doctis viris, turn rerum 
 peritis non satisfecisse ; adversarium vero, quamvis au- 
 dacissimum, ita profligasse, ut auimo simul et existi- 
 matione fracta cederet ; triennioque toto, quo postea 
 vixit, multa licet minatus ac fremens, nullam tamen 
 amplius molestiam nobis exhiberet, nisi quod vilissi- 
 morum quorundam hominura obscuram operam subsidio 
 sibi corrogaret, et laudatores nescio quos ineptos atque 
 immodicos, ad inopinatam ac recentem infamiam, siquo 
 modo posset, sarciendam subornaret; quod statim pate- 
 bit. HsBc ego divinitus mihi accidisse bona, et magna 
 quidem ratus, appositissima deuique non modd ad per- 
 2 z 
 
 solvendas numini ex debito gratias, sed ad auspicium 
 quoque optimum instituti operis capiendum, cum vene- 
 ratione, ut facio, imprimis commemoranda esse duxi. 
 Nam quis est qui patrice decora non arbitretur sua ? 
 quid patriae cujusquam esse magis decori aut gloriee 
 potest, quam libcrtas, non civili tantum vitoe, sed divino 
 etiam cultui rcstituta .-* quse gens, qure civitas, aut fe- 
 licius aut fortius banc sibi utrobique peperit ? Etenini 
 fortitude, cum non tota in bello atque armis eniteat, 
 sed contra omnes aeque formidines difTundat vim suam 
 atqne intrepida sit, Grseci quidem illi, quos maxime 
 admiramur, et Roraani, ad tollendos ex civitatibus ty- 
 rannos nullam fere virtutem, proeter studium libertatis, 
 expedita arma, promptasque manus attulere; ceetera 
 omnia in proclivi, inter laudes omnium et plausus, et 
 laeta omnia, peragebant ; nee tam ad discrimen et am- 
 biguum facinus quam ad certamen virtutis gloriosissi- 
 mum atque pulcben*imum, ad praemia denique et coro- 
 nas speraque immortalitatis certissimam properabant. 
 Nondum enim tjrannis res sacra erat ; nondum tyranni, 
 Christi scilicet proreges atque vicarii repente facti, ciim 
 benevolentia non possent; cseca vulgi superstitione 
 sese munierant : nondum clericorum raalis artibus 
 attonita plebs, ad barbariem ea foediorem, quae stoli- 
 dissimos mortalium infamat Indos, degeneraverat. Illi 
 enim noxios sibi daemonas, quos abigere non possunt, 
 pro diis colunt; haec tyrannos ne liceret toUere cum 
 posset, impotentissimos creabat in se deos ; et humani 
 generis pestes in suam perniciem consecrabat. At con- 
 tra has omnes traditarum diu opinionum, religionum, 
 calumniarum, atque terrorum densissimas acies, hoste 
 ipso vehementius ab aliis formidatas, decertandum An- 
 glis erat. Quae omnia, edocti melius, et proculdubio 
 ccelitus imbuti, tanta causae fiducia, tanta animorum 
 firmitate ac virtute superarunt, utciim numero populus 
 sane niagnus essent, animis tamen tam erectis tamque 
 excelsis, vulgus esse desierint; Britanniaque ipsa post- 
 hac, quae tyrannorum terra ferax dicta olim est, nunc 
 liberatorum long^ feracior, perpetua saeculorum om- 
 
708 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGLIC ANO. 
 
 Ilium celebratione dici meruerit. Quos iion leifum 
 coutemptus aut violatio in effrsnatam licentiam efTudit; 
 lion virtiitis et glorire falsa species, atit stiilta Tcteriitn 
 icmiilatio inani nomine libertatis incendit, sed inno- 
 centia vitoe, morumque sanctitas rectum atque solum 
 iter ad libertatem veram docuit, leffum et relijfionis 
 justissinia defensio necessario armavit. Atqucilli qui- 
 dem Deo perinde confisi, servitutem honestissiniis armis 
 pepulere : ciijus laudis etsi nuUam partem miiii ven- 
 dico, a reprebensione tamen vel timiditatis vel ignavine, 
 siqua infertur, facile me tueor. Neque enim niilitite 
 labores et pericula sic defugi, ut non alia ratione, et 
 operam, multo utiliorem, nee minore cum periculo meis 
 civibus navarim, et animum dubiis in rebus neque de- 
 missum unquam, neque uUius invidite, vel etiam mortis 
 plus aequo metuentem prcestiterim. Nam ciim ab ado- 
 lescentulo humanioribus essem studiis, ut qui maxima 
 deditus, et ingenio semper quam corpore validior, post- 
 babita castrensi opera, qua me gregarius quilibet ro- 
 bustior facile superasset, ad ea me contuli, quibus plus 
 potui ; ut parte mei meliore ac potiore, si saperem, non 
 deteriore, ad rationes patrioe, causamque banc praestan- 
 tissimam, quantum maxime possem momentum acce- 
 derem. Sic itaque existimabam, si illos Deus res ge- 
 rere tarn praeclaras voluit, esse itidem alios a quibus 
 gestas dici pro dignitate atque omari, et defensam ar- 
 mis veritatem, ratione etiam, (quod unicum est proesi- 
 dium vere ac proprie humanum,) defendi voluerit. 
 Unde est, ut dum illos invictos acie viros admiror, de 
 mea interim provincia non querar ; immo mihi gratuler, 
 et gratias insuper largitori munerum coplesti iterum 
 sunimas agam obtifjisse talem, ut aliisinvidendamuJto 
 magis, quam mihi ullo modo ptenitentia videatur. Et 
 me quidem nemini vel infimo libens confero; nee ver- 
 bum de me ullum insolentius facio; ad causam vero 
 omnium nobilissimam, ac celeberrimam, et hoc simul 
 defensores ipsos defendendi munus ornatissimum ip- 
 sorum mihi sufFragiis attributum atque judiciis, quoties 
 animum refero, fateor me mihi vix temperare, quin 
 altius atque audentius quim pro exordii ratione in- 
 sorgam ; et grandius quiddam, quod eloqui possim, 
 quaeram : quandoquidem oratores illos antiquos et in- 
 signes, quantum ego ab illis non dicendi solum sed et 
 loquendi facultate, (in extranea praesertira, qua utor 
 necessario, lingua, et perseepe mihi nequaquam satis- 
 facio,) baud dubie vincor, tantum omnes omnium seta- 
 tum, materiae nobilitate et argumento vincam. Quod 
 et rei tantam expectationem ac celebritatem adjecit, ut 
 jam ipse me sentiam non in foro aut rostris, uno dun- 
 taxat populo, vel Romano, vel Atheniensi circumfusum ; 
 sed attenta, et confidente quasi tota pene Europa, et 
 judicium ferente, ad universos quacunque gravissi- 
 morum faominum, urbium, gentium, consessus atque 
 conventus, et priore defensione, dixisse, et hac rursus 
 dicturum. Jam videor mihi, ingressus iter, transma- 
 rinos tractus et porrectas late regiones, sublimis perlus- 
 trare; vultus innumeros atque ignotos, animi sensus 
 mecum conjunctissimos. Hinc Germanorum virile et 
 infestum servituti robur, inde Francorum vividi dig- 
 nique nomine liberales impetus, bine Hispanorum con- 
 aulta virtus, Italorum inde sedata suique compos mag- 
 
 nanimitas ob oculos vcrsatur. Quicquid uspiam libe- 
 rorum pcctorum, quicquid ingenui, quicquid magna- 
 nimi aut prudens latet aut se palam profitetur, alii tacite 
 favcre, alii aperte sufTragari, accurrcre alii et plausu 
 accipere, alii tandem vero victi, dedititios se tradere. 
 Videor jam mihi, tantis circumseptus copiis, ab Her- 
 euleis usque cohimiiisadextremos Li beripatristerminos, 
 libertatem diu pulsam atque exulem, longo intervallo 
 domum ubiquc gentium reducere : et, quod Triptolcmus 
 olim fertur, sed longd nobiliorem Cercali ilia frugera 
 ex civitate mea gentibus importare ; restitutum nempe 
 civilem liberumque vitae cultum, per urbes, per regna, 
 perque nationes disseminare. Sed ncc ignotus plane, nee 
 fortasse non gratus nirsum advenero ; si sum idem, qui 
 pugnacissimum tyrannorum satellitem,et opinione ple- 
 rorumque, et sui fiducia insuperabilem antea crcditum, 
 cum nos nostrasque acies contumeliose lacesseret, et 
 optimates nostri me primum intuerentur, singulari cer- 
 tamine congressus, adacto convitiantis in jugulum hoc 
 stylo, immo suismet ipsius telis, collocavi ; et nisi velim 
 tot undique lectorum intelligentium calculis atque sen- 
 tentiis, neutiquam addictis miiii aut obnoxiis diffidere 
 prorsus etderogare, opima spolia retuli. Heec sine ulla 
 vaniloquentia ilk esse re vera, vel illud maxim^ argu- 
 mento esse potest, quod ego nee sine Dei nutu reor ac- 
 cidisse, quod, cum a regina Suedorum serenissima, qua 
 vivit opinor nemo, aut olim vixit, vel optimarum artium, 
 vel doctorum bominum studiosior, honorific^ sane esset 
 invitatus, venissetque et Salmasius et Salmasia, (uter 
 enim borum is erat, uxoris palam dominatus cum fama 
 turn domi incertum admodum reddiderat,) quo in loco 
 peregrinus magno in honore degebat, ibi euro nostra 
 defensio nihil tale metuentem occupant. Qua statim 
 a pluribus perlecta, regina quidem, qute et ipsa cum 
 primis perlegerat, de sua pristina benignitate ac muni- 
 ficentia, id solum spectans quod se dignum erat, in hos- 
 pitem nihil remisit: de cietero, si audita ssepius et quee-i 
 arcana non sunt, licet referre, tanta animorum facta.! 
 subito mutatio est, ut qui nudiustertius summa gratia<| 
 ftoruerat, nunc pen6 obsolesceret ; nee ita multo post! 
 discedens cum bona venia hoc unum in dubio permul- 
 tis relinqueret, honoratiorne advenerit, an contemptior^ 
 abierit. Sed neque aliis in locis detrimentum levius 
 fecisse famae satis constat. Verum bsec omnia non 
 eo attuli; quo me cuiquam venditarem, neque enim est 
 opus; sed quo id duntaxat latins ostendereni, quod 
 initio institui, quas ob causas, et quam non leves, ab 
 agendis Deo Optimo Maximo gratiis potissioium sim 
 exorsus; mihique prooemium hoc fore honestissimum 
 atque pulcherrimum, in quo preecipu^, tot argumen- 
 tis enumeratis, dcmonstrare liceat, me, baud exper- 
 tem licet calamitatum humanarum, me tamen, resque 
 meas Deo curse esse ; me maximis prope de rebus, et 
 ad patriae necessaria tempora accommodatis, et civi]i» 
 vitse religionisque ex usu maxime futuris, non uno pro 
 populo, neduro uno pro reo, sed pro universo potiiis 
 bominum genere, contra humanee libertatis hostes, 
 quasi in communi omnium gentium et frequentissimo; 
 cuncursu disserentem, divino favore ct auxilioadjutum 
 atque auctum : quo ego majus aut gloriosius qnicquani 
 mibi tribuere, neque possim ullo tempore neque cu. 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 709 
 
 piam. Eundem proinde immortalem Deum oro, ut con- 
 sueta ejus ope ac benigfnitate sola fretus, qua integri- 
 tate, diligentia, fide, felicitate etiam, fortissime justis- 
 simeque simul facta baud ita pridem defendi, eadem, 
 vel ea amplius, authores ipsos, meque tantis viris igno- 
 miniae causa, non honoris additum ab imraeritis oppio- 
 briis, atque calunniiis vindicare sufficiam. Quod si est, 
 qui contemni haec satius arbitretur potuisse, fateor 
 equidem, si apud eos qui nos recte nossent haec spar- 
 gerentur: caeteris qua tandem ratione constabit non 
 esse verum quicquid adversarius noster est mentitus? 
 cum autem, data, qute par est, opera, a nobis erit, ut 
 quo preecessit calumnia, eodem vindex quoque Veritas 
 sequatur, et illos de nobis perperam sentire opinor de- 
 sit uros, et istum fortasse mendaciorum pudcbit: si non 
 puduerit, tum demum, satius contempserimus. Huic 
 interea responsum pro meritis celerius expedivissem, 
 nisi se falsis rumoribus hactenus muniisset; dum sa»- 
 pius denuntiaret, an incudem sudarc Salmasium, nova 
 volumina in nos fabricare, jam jamque editurura : ex 
 quo hoc solum est conscquutus, ut maledicentiie pcenas 
 aliquanto serius daret : expectandum enim duxi potius, 
 ut potiori viribus adversario, integrum me servarem. 
 Sed cum Salmasio debellatum jam puto mihi esse, ut- 
 pote mortuo; et quemadmodum niortuo, non dicam : 
 non enim ut ille mihi caecitatem, sic ego illi mortem 
 \itio vertam. Quanquam sunt, qui nos etiam necis 
 ^us reos faciunt, illosque nostros nimis acriter strictos 
 aculeos ; quos dum repugnando altiiis sibi infixit, dum 
 quod proe manibus habebat opus, vidit spissius proce- 
 dere, tempus rcsponsionis abiisse, operis gratiam per- 
 iisse, recordatione araisste famee, existimationis, prin- 
 cipum denique favoris, ob rem regiam mal^ defensam, 
 erga se imminuti, triennali tandem mcestitia, et animi 
 magis eegritudine, quam morbo confectum obiisse. Ut- 
 cunquc sit, si iterum cum hoste satis mihi cognito, si 
 bella etiam posthuma gerenda sunt, cujus feroces ac 
 strenuos impetus facile sustinui, ejus languentes et 
 moribundos conatus non est ut reformidem. 
 
 Nunc vero ad hoc quicquid est hominis, qui nos in- 
 clamat, aliquaudo veniamus: clamorem quidem audio, 
 non regii sanguinis, ut prte se fcrt titulus, sed obscuri 
 cujuspiam nebulonis; clamautem enim nusquam repe- 
 rio. Eho! quis es ? homone an nemo? hominum certe 
 infimi, ue maneipia quidem, sine nomine sunt. Sem- 
 perne ergo mihi cum anonjmis res erit ? at vero hi re- 
 gies haberi se vel maxim^ volunt : mirorsi regibus sic 
 persuaserint. Regum sequaces atque amicos regum 
 non pudet ; quo pacto igitur sunt isti regibus amici ? 
 non dant raunera ; immo vero libentius multo accipi- 
 unt: res suas non impendunt, qui ne nomina qui- 
 dem causae regiae dare audent : quid ergo ? verba 
 dant, sed nee verba gratis dare suis regibus, vel satis 
 benevoli in animum inducunt, vel satis constantes no- 
 mine adscripto audent. Me quidem, (Jav^p£cdvwvi;;*oi, 
 fas enim sit Grsece quos Latine quid nominem nou re- 
 perio, me iuquam, cum vester ille Claudius de jure re- 
 gio, materia sane gratiosissima, sine nomine tamen 
 orsus esset scribere, et exemplo possem uti, usque adeo 
 neque mei, neque causae puditum est, ut ad rem tantam 
 accedere, nisi nomen palam professus, turpe ducerem. 
 
 Quid ego in republica palam videor contra reges, cur 
 vos in regno, vel regum sub patrociuio, non nisi furtim 
 et clanculum, contra rempublicam audetis? cur in tuto 
 pavidi, cur in luce nocturni, summam potentiam, sum- 
 mam gratiam, timiditate invidiosa plane atque suspecta 
 obscuratis? satisne vobis ut praesidii sit in regibus vere- 
 mini? sic tecti, sic obvoluti non vos raehercule ad 
 asserendum jus regium defensores, sed ad eerarium 
 compilandum fures potius videmini venisse. Equidem 
 quod sum, profiteer; quod regibus nego jus esse, vel 
 in regno quovis legitimo pernegare ausim : nemo me 
 heserit nionarcba, quin se priiis damnet, tjrannum fas- 
 sus. Si tyrannos insector, quid hoc ad reges? quos 
 ego a tyrannis longissime sejungo. Quantum a viro 
 malo distat vir bonus, tantundem a tjranno discrcpare 
 regem contendo : unde efficitur, tyrannum non modo 
 non esse regem, sed regi quidem adversissimum semper 
 imminere. Et sane qui nionumenta rerum percurrit, 
 plures atyrannis quam apopulo oppresses reges, atque 
 sublatos inveniet. Qui igitur tollendos affirmat tyran- 
 nos, non reges, sed inimicissimos regibus, immo infes- 
 tissimos regum hostes tollendos affirmat. Vos contra, 
 quod regibus jus datis, ut quicquid libeat jus sit, non 
 est jus, sed injuria, sed scelus, sed ipsa pernicies : ve- 
 nenato isto munere, non salutari, quos supra omnem 
 vim atque periculum fore praedicatis, eos ipsi occiditis; 
 regem et tyrannum idem esse, siquidem idem utrobique 
 jus est, statuitis. Nam si isto sue jure, rex non utitur 
 (utetur autem nunquam quamdiu rex, non tyrannus, 
 erit) non hoc regi, sed viro assiguandum est. Quid 
 autem absurdius illo jure regio fingiqueat, quo si quis 
 utatur, quoties rex vult esse, toties esse vir bonus de- 
 sinat; quoties vir esse bonus maluerit, toties se arguerit 
 non esse regem ? quo quid in reges dici contumeliosius 
 potest? Hoc jus qui docet, ipse sit oportet injustissi- 
 mus, atque omnium pessimus : pejor autem quo pacto 
 fiat, quam si quales format ac fingit alios, talis ipse 
 imprimis fuerit? Quod si omnis vir bonus, ut auti- 
 quorum secta quaedam magnifice sane philosophatur, 
 est rex, pari ratione sequitur, omnem virum malum pro 
 suo quemque modulo tyrannum esse : neque enim 
 magnum, ne hoc nomine intumescat, sed infiraum 
 quiddam est tyrannus; et quanto omnium maximus, 
 tanto omnium vilissimus, et maxime servilis. Alii 
 enim suis tantiim viiiis volentes serviunt ; hie non modo 
 suis, sed ministrorum etiam atque satellitum importu- 
 nissimis flagitiis etiam nolens cogitur servire; et suas 
 quasdam tyrannides abjectissimo cuique suorura con- 
 cedere: tyranui igitur servorum infimi, suis serviunt 
 etiam servitiis. Quamobrem rect^ hoc nomen vel in 
 minimum quemque tyrannorum pugilem, vel in hunc 
 etiam clamatorem poterit convenire ; qui in hac causa 
 tyrannica cur tarn strenue vociferetur, ex his qute dicta 
 sunt, quaeque mox diceutur, satis liquebit: uti etiam cur 
 anonymus : aut enim turpiter conductus, clamorem hunc 
 suum regio sanguiui, Salmasium sequutus,vendidit; aut 
 infamis doctrinae conscientia pallens, aut vita flagitiosus 
 ac turpis, latere si cupit, mirum non est : aut fortassis 
 ita se parat, ut sicubi spem quasstus uberiorera odoretur, 
 desertis quandoque regibus integrum sibi sit, ad quam- 
 libet etiam futuram rempublicam transfugere ; ne tunc 
 
710 
 
 DEFEXSIO SEC UN DA PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 <]uidein sine exempio magni siii Salmasii, qui aflTulj^^ente 
 lucro captus, ab orthodoxis ad episcopos, a pupularibus 
 ad regios, etiain senex defec t. Tu ij^itur iste e yui- 
 guslio clamator, qui sis iion fullis ; frustra tibi ista la- 
 tibula queesisti: extrabcre niibi crede, iiequc Plutonis 
 ista galea diutius te teget : dejerabis, quoad vixeris, nie 
 aut ceecuni non esse, aut tibi saltetn noii cuunivere. Quis 
 igitur sit, quod genus bominis, qua spe adductus, qiii- 
 bus illccebris, quibus lenociniis delinitus, ad banc cau- 
 sam regiam accesscrit, (Milesia propeniodum, aut 
 Baiana fabula est,) si vacat nunc auditc. 
 
 Est " Moms" quidam, partira Scotus, partim Gallus ; 
 nd t(»ta bominis infamia, gens una, aut rcgio niniiuni 
 laborarct; bonio improbus, et cum aliorum, turn, quod 
 grarissiinum est, amicorum, quos ex intimis ininiicissi- 
 mos sibi fecit, testinioniis quampluriniis iufidus, nien- 
 dax, ingratus, maledicus, et virorum perpetuus obtrcc- 
 tator et focniinarum, quarum nee pudicitite plus unquam 
 parcere, quam farase cousuevit Is, ut primee. oetatis 
 obscuriora prsetereara, primum Genevae Grsecas literas 
 docuit ; verum, soepius licet nomen suum Graece 
 Morura discipulis interpretatus, stultum et nequani 
 ipse dediscere nequivit ; quin eo potius furore est 
 agitatus cilm tot scelerum esset sibi conscius, quamvis 
 fortasse nondum compertus, ut pastoris in ecclesia 
 nmnus ambire, atque istis inoribus inquinare non hor- 
 resceret. Veriim baud diu presbjteroruni censurara 
 effugere potuit, mulierarius ac vanus, multisque aliis 
 criniinibus notatus, multis ab ortbodoxa fide erroribus 
 damnatus, quos et turpiter ejuravit, et ejuratos irapie 
 retinuit, tandem adulterii manifestus. Hospitis ancil- 
 1am quandam forte adamaverat; earn paulo post etiam 
 alteri nuptam sectari non destitit; tuguriolum quoddam 
 inlrare bortuli, solum cum sola, vicini saepe animad- 
 verterant. Citra adulterium, inquis ; poterat enira 
 quidvis aliud : san^ quidem ; poterat confabulari, 
 nimirum de re hortensi, preelectiones quasdam suas 
 sciolee fortasse foeminte et audiendi cupidee expromere 
 de hortis, Alcinoi puta vel Adonidis ; poterat nunc 
 areolas laudare, umbram tantummodo desiderare, liceret 
 modo ficui morum inserere, complures inde sycomoros 
 quam citissime enasci, ambulationem amcenissimam ; 
 modum deinde insitiouis mulieri poterat nionstrare : 
 haec et plura poterat, quis negat? Veruntamen pres- 
 byteris satisfacere non poterat, quin ilium tanquara 
 adulterum censura ferirent, et pastoris munere indig- 
 num prorsus judicarent: harum et hujusniodi accusa- 
 tionum capita in bibliotbeca illius urbis publica etiam- 
 num asservantur. Interea, dum beec palam nota non 
 essent, ab ecclesia, quse Middleburgi erat Gallica, 
 procurante Salmasio, in Hollandiam vocatus, magna 
 cum offensione Spanbemii, viri sane docti, et pastoris 
 integerrimi, qui eum Genevte antea probe noverat, 
 literas testimonials, quas vocant, dum alii non fcren- 
 dum existimarent, ut bomo istiusmodi ccclesiae testi- 
 monio omaretur, alii quidvis potius ferendum, quam 
 ipsum hominem, segr6 a Genevensibus, et non alia 
 quam sui discessus conditione, atque illas quidem fri- 
 gidulas, tandem impetravit. In Hollandiam ut venit, 
 ad salutandum Salmasium profectus, domi ejus in 
 uxoris ancillam,cui Pontice nomen erat, oculosnequitcr 
 
 conjecit : sem|)er enim in ancillis pn)labitur libido 
 bominis ; bine summa assiduitate Salmasium coepit 
 colerc, et quoties licuit Pontiam. Nescio an ille com- 
 moditate bominis et assentatione captus, an hie optabi- 
 lem excogitasse se conveniendae eo seepius Pontitc 
 occasionem ratus, prior sermones injecerit de responso 
 Miltonii ad Salmasium. Utut fuit, Morus propugnan- 
 dum suscipit Salmasium : et Salmasius quidem tbeo- 
 logicam in ea urbe catbedram sua opera pollicetur 
 Moro; Morus et banc et aliud iiisuper suaviculum, 
 furtivos Pontiae concubitus pollicetur sibi. Per causam 
 consulendi de hoc opere Salmasium, dies ac noctes 
 earn domum frequentat. Jamque ut olim Pyramus 
 in morum, ita nunc repente morus in Pyramum trans- 
 mutatus sibi videtur, Genevensis in Babylonium ; 
 verum illo juvene quanto improbior, taiito fortunatior, 
 nunc suam Tbisben, facta sub eodcm tecto copia, ut 
 libitum est, Pontiam alloquitur; rimam in pariete 
 conquirere opus non erat : spoudet matrimonium ; 
 ea spe pellecUm vitiat ; eodemque scelere, liorreo 
 dicere, sed dicendum est, sacrosancti evangelii mi- 
 nister, hospitalera etiam domum consiuprat. Ex 
 hoc demum congressu, mirum quiddam, et prceter 
 solitum natures prodigiosum accidit, ut et fcemina 
 et mas etiam conciperet, Pontia quidem Morillum, 
 quod et Plinianum exercitatorem diu postea exer- 
 cuit Salmasium ; Morus ovum hoc irritura et ven- 
 tosum, ex quo tympanites iste clamor regii san- 
 guinis prorupit. Quod quidem primo regiis nos- 
 tris in Belgio esurientibus pergrata admodum sorbitio 
 fuit ; nunc rupto putamine, vitiosum ac putridum 
 repertum aversantur. Nam Morus hoc suo fcelu 
 baud mediocriter inflatus, et Arausiacam factionem 
 totam demeruisse se sentiens, jam integras professionum 
 cathedras spe improba devoraverat, et suam Pontiam 
 utpote ancillam et pauperculam, jam gravidam scele- 
 ratus deseruerat. Ilia despectam se atque delusam 
 querens, et synodi fidem et raagistratus imploravit. Sic 
 tandem evulgata haec res, et conviviis pen^ omnibus, 
 ac circulis diu risum et cachinnos praebuit. Unde 
 aliquis, et lepidi sane, quisquis erat, ingenii, hoc dis- 
 tichon, 
 
 Galli ex concubitu gravidam te, Pontia, Mori, 
 Quis bene moratam, morigeramque neget ? 
 
 Sola Pontia non risit; sed nee querendo quicquam 
 profecit; clamor enim regii sanguinis clamorem stupri, 
 et stupratae mulierculse ploratum facile obruerat; Sal- 
 masius quoque illatam sibi banc totique familiee et in- 
 juriam et labem aegre ferens, seque ab amico et lauda- 
 tore suo sic ludos factum, sic adversario rursus obnox- 
 ium, accedente ad priores ejus in causa regia infelici- 
 tates forsitan hoc etiam infortunio, baud ita multo post 
 supremum diem obiit. Veriim aliquanto hoec posteriiis. 
 Interim Salmasius, Salmacidis quodam fato, ut enim 
 nomen, ita et fabula non abludit, nescius hermaphro- 
 ditum se adjunxisse sibi Morura tarn gigncndi quam 
 pariendi compotem, quid is domi genuisset ignarus, 
 quod peperit exosculatur ; librum nempe istura in quo 
 sentit se Magnum toties dici, et suo forte judicio dign«^, 
 aliorum ccrte stulte atque ridicule laudatuni. Itaque 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM, 
 
 711 
 
 tvpograplium festlnaiiter quteiit ; et fugientem ab se 
 jamdiu fatnani, retinere fiustra conatus, quas laudes, 
 quas potius foedas sui adulationes per hunc atque alios 
 naisere concupiverat, iis etiam divulgandis obstetricatur 
 ipse atque subservit. Ad hancoperam Vlaccus quidam 
 est visus omnium maxime idoneus; huic facile per- 
 suadet, lion modo ut librum ilium excudendum curaret, 
 quod nemo reprehendisset ; sed etiam ut epistolte ad 
 Carolum videlicet missoe, multis in me, qui hominera 
 nunquam noram, probris et contumeliis refertie, sub- 
 scripto nomine se profiteretur authorem. Ncquis ig'itur 
 miretur cur se exorari tarn facile sit passus, ut me tam 
 impudenter nulla de causa lacesseret, et alienas etiam 
 intemperies in se transferre atque priestare tam pro ni- 
 hilo duceret, erga omnes etiam alios quemadmodum se 
 gesserit, sicuti ego compertum habeo, ostendam. Est 
 Vlaccus unde gentium nescio, vagus quidam librariolus, 
 veterator atque decoctor notissimus ; is Londini ali- 
 quandiu bibliopola fuit clancularius ; qua ex urbe, post 
 innumeras fraudes, oba?ratus aufugit. Eundem Parisiis 
 fide cassum et male agendo insignem, vita tota J.icobtEa 
 cognovit : unde olim quoque profugus ne multis qui- 
 dem parasangis audetappropinquare; nunc si cui opus 
 est balatrone perditissimu atque venali, prostat Hagae- 
 comitis tjpographus rccoctus. Nunc ut intelligatis, 
 quid dicat, quidve agat, quam nibil pens! liabeat, nibil 
 esse tam sanctum, quod non lucro vol exiguo posterins 
 putet, seque non causa publica, quod quis putasset, sic 
 in me esse debaccbatum, fatentem ipsuni in se testem 
 producam. Is cum vidisset quod in Salmasium scrip- 
 seram, nonnuUis librariis eera meruisse, scribit ad arai- 
 cos quosdam meos mecum agerent, ut siquid haberem 
 excudendum, sibi coramitteretur ; se typis longe meli- 
 oribus, quam qui priiis excudisset, mandaturum : re- 
 spondi per eosdem, non babere me in proesentia, quod 
 excuso esset opus. Ecce autera ! cui suam operam tam 
 officiose modo detulerat, in eum baud ita multo post, 
 script! contumeliosissimi non excusor solum sed et au- 
 thor, subdititius licet, prodit. Indignantur amici ; re- 
 scribit impudentissimus, mirari se simplicitatem eorum, 
 et rerum imperitiam,qui officii rationem aut bonesti ab 
 se exigant aut desiderent, cum videant quibus rebus 
 queestum facial : se ab ipso Salmasio illam epistulani, 
 cum libro accepisse ; qui rogabat, id uti sua gratia, 
 vellet facere quod fecit; si Miltonio, vcl cuivis alteri 
 visum esset respondere, nullum sibi esse scrupulum ; 
 siquidcm eadem sua opera uti voluerint : id est, vel in 
 Salmasium vel in Carolum; namque id erat solum 
 quod in responso ejusmodi futurum expectare poterat. 
 Quid plura ? Hominem videtis ; ad reliquos nunc 
 pergo, non enim unus est duntaxat, qui banc in nos 
 regii clamoris quasi tragoediam adornavit. En igitur 
 initio, ut solet, dramatis personae : clamor prologus, 
 Vlaccus balatro, aut si mavultis, Salmasius Vlacci 
 balatronis persona et lacernis involutus, duo poetastri 
 cerevisiali vappa temulenti, Morus adulter et stuprator. 
 Mirificos sane tragoedos ! bellum certamen mihi para- 
 tum ! Verum qualescunque sortiti, quoniam alios atque 
 hujusmodi adversarios vix est ut causa nostra habere 
 possit, nunc singulos aggrediamur; hoc tantum prse- 
 fati, si cui minus gravitatis nostra alicubi refutatio ha- 
 
 bere videbitur, cogitare eum debere, non cum gravi 
 adversario, sed cum grege histrionico, nobis rem esse ; 
 ad quem dum refutationis genus accoramodandum erat, 
 non semper quid magis decuisset, sed quid illis dignum 
 esset, spectandum duximus. 
 
 Regii sanguinis clamor adcoelum adversus parricidas 
 Anglicanos. 
 
 Siquidem ndu jure fusum ostendisses, More, istum san- 
 guinem, baud incredibile narrares: nunc, quemadmo- 
 dum primis restituti evangelii temporibus, monachi, 
 cum argumentis minus valerent, ad spectra nescio quae, 
 et ficta monstra decurrere solebant; sic vos, postquam 
 omnia defecere, ad clamores nusquam auditos, et obso- 
 letas fratcrculorum artes revertimini. Voces h ccelo 
 audire quemquam nostrorum, longe abest ut credas; 
 ego te clamores ab inferis audisse, quod postulas, facile 
 crediderim. Veriim hunc regii sanguinis clamorem die 
 sodes quis audivit ? Te ais : nugse : priiiium enim male 
 audis: ad coelum autem qui clamor perveniat, si quis 
 proeter Deum, justi puto soli et integerrimi quique au- 
 diunt, ut qui possint, immunes ipsi, irani Dei consciis 
 dcnuntiare. Tu vero quorsum audires, an ut satyram 
 cinoedus scriberes? Videris enim eodem tempore, et 
 ementilus hunc clamorem ad coelum, et cum Pontia 
 fuTtim libidinatus esse. Multa te impediunt. More, 
 multa, iutus forisque circumsonant, quae te res istius- 
 modi ad caelum perlatas audire non sinunt; et si nihil 
 aliud, ccrt6 qui contra ipsum te ad coelum quam pluri- 
 mus fit clamor. Clamat contra te, si nescis, moecha 
 ilia tua hortensis, tuo maximd pastoris sui exemplo, de- 
 ccptam se esse questa; clamat contra te maritus, cujus 
 torum violasti ; clamat Pontia, cui pactum nuptiale 
 temerasli ; clamat, siquis est, quem probro genitum, 
 infantulum abdicasti; horum omnium clamores ad cre- 
 lum contra te, si non audis, neque illura regii sangui- 
 nis audiveris: interea libellus iste, non regii sanguinis 
 clamor ad ccelum, sed lascivientis Mori hinnitus ad 
 Pontiam, rectius inscribetur. Quee sequitur epistola, 
 prolixa quidem, et bene putida, partim Carolo, partim 
 Miltonio, alteri amplificando, alteri infamando, dedica- 
 tur. Ab ipso statim initio authorem discite : " Caroli 
 regna,"inquit, " in sacrilegamparricidarum,et (quia ver- 
 ba desunt idonea, Tertullianaea voce abutimur) Deicida- 
 rum potestatem venerunt." Haec sive Salmasiasa, sive 
 Morspa, sive Vlaccsea sartago sit, prsetereamus. Hoc vero 
 aliis ridendum, Carolo indignandum profecto est, quod 
 paulo post, " neminem," ait, " vivere felicitatis Caroli 
 studiosiorem." Quine eandem et epistolandi, et excu- 
 dendi operam Caroli hostibus detulisti, te vivit nemo 
 felicitatis ejus studiosior? Miserum profecto dicis re- 
 gem sic ab amicis omnibus derelictum, ut qui intimi 
 restant, iis vappa tjpographus comparare se audeat. 
 Miserriraum, cujus fidelissirais, Vlaccus perfidus fide ac 
 studio non cedat: quo quid insolentius de se, contemp- 
 tius de rege amicisque regiis pronunciare potuit? Ne- 
 que hoc minus ridiculum, induci idiotara et operarium 
 de rebus gravissimis ac regiis virtutibus pbilosophan- 
 tem, eaque dicentem, qualiacunque sunt, quibus ncc 
 Salmasius ipse, nee Morus meliora dixisset. Equidem 
 Salmasium, ut ssppe alias, ita hoc loco baud obscure,. 
 
712 
 
 DEtL.NSlU SLLL.NDA PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 M mulla Icctione, judicio tamen puerili et nullius usus 
 lioinincin deprebendi ; qui cum legere potuisset sum- 
 itius in Spartaiia civitate optimd iiistituta nia^-istratus, 
 si quid forte viro nialo cxcidisset sapienter dictum, id 
 ei adimi jussisse, et in virum aliquem bonum ac frug'i 
 sortilione conferri, ade6 id omne quod decorum dicitur 
 iguorarit, ut d contra, quas probum atque prudenteni 
 decere scntenlias arbitraretur, eas homini nequissimo 
 attribui sustineret. Bono es animo, Carole : veterator 
 Vlaccus, " quae sua est in Deum fiducia," bono animo 
 te esse jubet. " Noli tot mala perdere:" Vlaccus de- 
 coctor pcrditissiraus, qui bona omnia, siqua babuit, per- 
 didit, autbor tibi est, perdere ut nolis mala : " Frtiere 
 novercantc fortuna : " potin'es ut n^ fruarc, hortatore 
 praesertim tali, qui alienis etiam fortunis frui per fas et 
 iiefas tot annis consuevit ? " In sapientiam penitus in- 
 gurg-itasti, et ingurgita :" sic monet, sicprsecipit regum 
 institutor san^ optimus Vlaccus purges, qui arrepta atra- 
 ineutosis manibus, coriacea lagena, inter combibones 
 operas, ingenti haustu, sapientium tibi propinat. Htec 
 audet tuns Vlaccus, tam prteclara monita, nomine etiam 
 conscripto, quae Salmasius, quae Morus, caeterique pugiles 
 tui aut timidi non audent, aut superbi non dignantur ; 
 nimirum quoties te monito est opus aut defenso, alieno 
 semper nomine, atque periculo, non sue, sapientes aut 
 fortes sunt. Desinatertjo, quisquis hicest, "strenuamet 
 animosam facundiara"ipse suam inaniter jactare; dum 
 " vir," si diis placet, " insignis, decoro ingenio nomen 
 suum celeberrimum" edere metuit ; librum quo regium 
 sanguinem ulcisci se ait, ne dicare quidem Carolo nisi 
 per Vlaccum interpretem et vicariura ausus, verbis 
 typographi misere contentus significare, " librum " se, 
 sine nomine, " si pateris, O rex, tuo nomini dicatum 
 ire." Sic functus Carolo in me impetum parat minita- 
 bundus: " Post ha*c prooemia, tubam terribilem inhabit 
 o ^avuafftoQ " ille Salmasius." Salubritatem praedicis 
 et concentus musici novum genus futurum : isti enim 
 tubae terribili, cum inflabitur, nulla aptior excogitari 
 sjmpbonia poterit, quam si affatim oppedetur. Buccam 
 vero Salmasius nimis inflatam ne afferat moneo : quo 
 enim attuleritinflatiorem, eomihi crede, opportuniorem 
 ad colaphos praebebit ; qui tbaumasii Salmasii rhyth- 
 micum hunc sonum, quo delectaris, buccis ambabus 
 resonantibus, numerose reddent. Pergis coniicari. 
 " Qui nee parem nee secundum babet, in universe lite- 
 rarum et scientiarum orbe." Vestram fidem ! Eruditi, 
 quotquot estis, vestram fidcm ! Siccine vobis omnibus 
 anteferri cimicem grammaticura, cujus res atque spes 
 omnis in glossario vertebatur ? Quern vel extremum 
 merito occupet scabies, si cum viris vere doctis compa- 
 retur. Haec autem, nisi ab infimo quopiam et infra 
 Vlaccum ipsum vaecorde afHrmari tam fatue nequive- 
 ruut. " Quique jam stupendam et inflnitam eruditionem 
 coelesti junctam ingenio ad causam tuae majestatis con- 
 tulit." Si roeministis quod supra narravi, ipsum Sal- 
 masium attulisse banc epistolam cum libro excu- 
 dendani, vel ab ipso scriptam, vel ab anonymo quovis, 
 vemamque typograpbum exorasse, ut quod author nol- 
 let, ipse suum nomen adscriberet, cognoscetis profecto 
 pusilli omnino, et abjectissimi hominem ingenii suis 
 laudibus tam misere velificantem, et immensa encomia 
 
 tam stulidi laudatoris aucupantem. " Opus aeternuni 
 frustra sugilluntibiis nonnullis, jurisconsulti mirari satis 
 nequeunt quod homo Callus ita subito res Anglicas, 
 leges, decreta, instrumenta, ita teneat, enodet, &c." 
 Inimo quam ineptierit in nostris legibus et psittacus 
 fuerit, nostris etiam jurisconsultis testibus, abundc 
 ostcndimus. " Sed ipse mox altera, quam in rebelles 
 molitur, impressione, simul Theonura ora comprimet, 
 simul Miltonum nobis pro eoac mercturconcastigatum 
 dabit." Tu igitur ut pisciculus ille anteambulo, prie- 
 curris balaenam Salmasium, imprcssiones in baec littora 
 minitantcm ; nos ferramenta acuimus, expressuri si 
 quid habent impressiones et concastigationes illae sive 
 olei sive gari. Bonitatem interea magni viri mirabimur 
 plusquam Pytbagoricam, qui animalia quoque miser- 
 atus, et praesertim pisces, quorum carnibus, ne quadra- 
 gcsima quidem parcit, iis tam decenter involvendis tot 
 voitimina destinarit, tot pauperum miilibus, tbunnorum, 
 credo, aut scombrorum, cbartaceas in singulos tunicas 
 testamento legarit. 
 
 Gaudete scombri, et quicquid est piscium salo. 
 Qui frigida hyeme incolitis algentes freta, 
 Vestrum misertus ille Salmasius eques 
 Bonus amicire nuditatem cogitaf; 
 Chartaeque largus apparat papyrinos 
 Vobis cucullos praeferentes Claudii 
 Insignia nomenque et decus Salmasii, 
 Gestetis ut per omne cetarium fonim 
 Equitis clienles, scriniis mungentium 
 Cubito virorum, et capsulis gratissimos. 
 
 Haec habui in editionem diu exspectatam tam nobi- 
 lis libri ; cujus impressionem, dum, ut ais, molitur Sal- 
 masius, tu ejus domum, More, foedissima compressione 
 Pontile contaminasti. Et videtur sane, ad hoc opus 
 absolvendum, Salmasius diu multumque incubuisse ; 
 paucis enim ante mortem diebus, ciim vir quidam 
 doctus, a quo hoc ipsum accepi, misisset, qui ex eo 
 quaereret, ecquando apparatus partem secundam in 
 primatum papae edilurusesset, respmidit, ad illud opus 
 non ante reversurum se, quam absolvisset quod adhuc 
 commentaretur adversus Miltonium. Ita ego etiam 
 papae refutandus praeferor; et quem illi primatum in 
 ecclesia negavit, eum mibi ultro in inimicitia sua con- 
 codit; sic ego primatui papae jam jam evertendo salu- 
 tem attuli; ego redivivum hunc Catilinam, non in toga, 
 ut consul olim Tullius, ne per somnum quidem, sed 
 aliud omnino agens, Romanis mcenibus averti ; non 
 unus profecto cardinalatus mibi hoc nomine debebitur; 
 vereor, ne translate in me regum nostrorum titulo, 
 defensor fidei ab Romano pontifice appellandus sim. 
 Videtis quantus invidiae artifex in me concitandae 
 Salmasius fuerit ; veriim ipse viderit, qui, tam bonesta 
 provincia turpiter relicta, alienis se controversiis im- 
 miscuerit, ab ecclesiae causa, ad civiles et extenias, 
 quarum sua nihil intererat, se traduxerit ; cum papa 
 inducias fecerit ; et, quod foedissimum fuit, cum epis- 
 copis, post bellum apertissimum, in gratiam redierit. 
 Veniamus nunc ad mea crimina : estne quod in vita aut 
 moribus reprebendat .-* Certe nihil : Quid ergo? Quod 
 nemo nisi immanis ac barbarus fecissct, formam mibi 
 ac caecitatem objectat. 
 Monstrum horrendum, informe, ingens, ciii lumen ademptum. 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 713 
 
 Nunquam existimabam eqnideni fore, iit de forma cum 
 Cjclope certamen mihi esset; verum statim se revocat. 
 " Quanquam nee ingens, quo nihil est exilius, exsan- 
 guius, contractius." Tametsi virum nihil attinet de 
 forma dicerc, tandem quaiido hie quoque est, unde 
 gralias Deo agam, et mendaces redarguani, ne quis 
 (quod Hispanoruni vulgus de haereticis, quos vocant, 
 plus nimio sacerdotibus suis credulum, opinatur) me 
 forte cynocephalum quempiam, aut rhinocerota esse 
 putet, dicani. Deformis quidem a nemine, quod sciam, 
 qui modo me vidit, sum unquam habitus ; formosus 
 necne, minus laboro ; statura fateor non sum procera : 
 sed qutC niediocri tamen quam parvae propior sit : sed 
 quid si parva, qua et summi saepe tum pace turn bello 
 viri fuere, quanquam parva cur dicitur, quae ad vir- 
 tutem satis magna est. Sed neque exilis admodum, 
 eo san^ animo iisque viribus ut cum aetas vitseque ratio 
 sic ferebat, nee ferrum tractare, nee stringere quotidiano 
 usu exercitatus nescirem ; eo accinctus, ut plerumque 
 eram, cuivis vel multo robustiori exaequatum me puta- 
 bani, securus quid mihi quis injuriae vir viro inferre 
 posset. Idem hodie animus, enedem vires, oculi non 
 iidem ; ita tamen extrinsecus illaesi, ita sine nube clari 
 ac lucidi, at eorum qui acutissimum cernunt : in hac 
 solum parte, memet invito, simulator sum. In vultu, 
 quo " nihil exsanguius" esse dixit, is manet etiamnum 
 color exsangui et pallenti plane contrarius, ut quadra- 
 genario major vix sit cui non denis prope annis videar 
 natu minor; neque corpore contracto neque cute. In 
 his ego si ulla ex parte mentior, multis millibus popu- 
 larinm meorum, qui de facie me norunt, exteris etiam 
 lion paucis, ridiculus merito sim : siu iste in re minime 
 necessaria, tam impudenter et graluito mendax com- 
 perietur, poteritis de reliquo eandem conjecturam 
 facere. Atque haec de forma mea vel coactus : de tua 
 quanquam et contcmptissimam accepi, et habitantis in 
 te improbitatis atque malitise vivam imaginem, neque 
 ego dicere, neque ullus audire curat. Utinam de cae- 
 citate pariter liceret inhumanum hunc refellere adver- 
 sarium ; sed non licet ; feramus igitur : non est 
 miserum esse ciecum ; miseruni est caecitatem non 
 posse ferre: quidni autem ferani, quod unumquemque 
 ita parare se oportet, ut si acciderit, non Eegr^ ferat, 
 quod et humanitus accidere cuivis mortalium, et prce- 
 stantissimis quibusdam, atque optimis omni memoria 
 viris accidisse sciam : sive illos memorem, vetustatis 
 ultimae priscos vates, ac sapientissimos ; quorum calam- 
 itatem, et dii, ut fertur, multo potioribus donis com- 
 pensarunt, et homines eo honore affecerunt, ut ipsos 
 inculpare maluerint deos, quam coecitatem illis crimini 
 dare. De augure Tiresia quod traditur, vulgo notum. 
 De Phineo sic cecinit Apollonius in Argonauticis : 
 
 'OvS' oaaov OTriZtro Kai Aibg avrov 
 
 Xpuov arpiKEujQ Itpov voov dv^pibiroiffi. 
 Tifi Kai 01 yijpag filv tTrt Stjvaibv laXXiv 
 Ek S' liXtr' 6(p5a\fjiCiiv yXvKspbv (pdog. 
 
 neque est veritus Jovem ipsum 
 
 Edens veraciter mentem divinam hominibus : 
 Quare et senectam ei diuturnam dedit, 
 Eripuit autem oculorum dulce lumen. 
 
 Caeterum Deus et ipse Veritas est : in qua homi- 
 nes edocenda quo quis veracior eo similior Deo 
 acceptiorque sit, oportet. Non est pium veritatis in- 
 videntem Deum credere; aut nolle hominibus quam 
 liberrime impertitam : ob nullam igitur noxam, di- 
 vinus vir, et bumani generis erudiendi studiosis- 
 simus, ut philosophorum etiam complures, caruisse 
 Inminibus videtur. Sive illos commemorem civili pru- 
 dentia gestisque rebus admirabiles olim viros ; primum 
 Timoleontem Corinthium, et civitatis suae, et Sicilise 
 totius liberatorem ; quo virum meliorem, aut in repub- 
 lica sanctiorem, nulla aetas tulit; tum Appium Clau- 
 dium, cujus in senatu pulchre dicta sententia, Italiam 
 Pyrrho, gravi hoste, seipsum caecitate non liberavit ; 
 tum Caecilium Metellum pontificem, qui non urbem 
 solum, sed et fatum urbis Palladium, et penitissiraa 
 sacra dum ab incendio servavit, suos oculos perdidit ; 
 quanquam alias certe Deus pietati tam egregiae favere 
 se, etiam inter gentes, testatus est: quod tali igitur viro 
 usu venit, ponendum in malis esse vix putem. Quid 
 alios recentiorum temporum adjungam, vel ilium Ve- 
 netiarum principem Dandulum longe omnium praestan- 
 tissimum ; vel Boemorum Ziscam ducem fortissimum, 
 orthodoxae fidei propugnatorem .'' Quid summi nominis 
 theologos Hieronymum Zanchium, nonnullosque alios? 
 cum et ipsum Isaacum patriarcham, quo nemo unquam 
 mortalium Deo charior fuit, annos baud paucos, caecum 
 vixisse constet; aliquot fortasse Jacobum etiam ejus 
 filium, et ipsum Deo baud minus dilectum : cum de- 
 nique Christi servatoris nostri divino testimonio com- 
 pertissimum sit, ilium homineni ab se sinatum, neque 
 ob suum, neque ob parentum suorum aliquodpeccatum, 
 etiam ab utero caecum fuisse. Ad me quod attinet, te 
 testor, Deus, mentis intimae, cogitationumque omnium 
 indagator, me nuUius rei, (quanquam hoc apud me 
 saepius, et quam maxime potui, serio quaesivi et reces- 
 sus vitae omnes excussi,) nullius vel recens vel olim 
 commissi, mihimet conscium esse, cujus atrocitas banc 
 mihi proe caeteris calamitatem creare, aut accersisse 
 merito potuerit. Quod etiam ullo tempore scripsi 
 (quoniara hoc nunc me lucre quasi piaculum regii ex- 
 istimant atque adeo triumphant) testor itidem Deum, 
 me nihil istiusmudi scripsisse, quod non rectum et ve- 
 rum, Deoque gratum esse, et persuaserim tum mihi, et 
 etiamnum persuasus sim ; idque nulla ambitione, lucro, 
 aut gloria ductus ; sed officii, sed honesti, sed pietatis 
 in patriam ratione sola; nee reipublicae tantum, sed 
 ecclesiae quoque liberandae causa potissimum fecisse : 
 adeo ut cum datum mihi publice esset illud in defen- 
 sionem regiam negotium, eodemque tempore et adversa 
 simul valetudine, et oculo jam pene altero amisso, con- 
 flictarer, praedicerentque diserte medici, si hunc laborem 
 suscepissem, fore, ut utrumque brevi amitterem, nihil 
 ista praemonitione deterritus, non medici, ne .^sculapii 
 quidem Epidaurii ex adjto vocem, sed divinioris cu- 
 jusdam intus monitoris viderer mihi audire ; duasque 
 sortes, fatali quodam natu, jam mihi propositas, hinc 
 caecitatem, inde officium ; aut oculorum jacturam ne- 
 cessario faciendam, aut suramum officium deserendum: 
 occurrebantque animo binailla fata, quae retulisse Del- 
 phis consulentem de se matrem, narrat Thetidis filins. 
 
714 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PilO POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 At^So^iac Ktjpag ipipififv davaroio riXoaSt, 
 E/ fttv K axidi fttvtitv TpiOiitv iroXiv a/jKbtftuxi^luHf 
 'QXtro fiiv fioi I'OtTTOC' iirap kXeoc d<pOirov tarai. 
 El le Kiv oiKaS' iKoi^at (piXt)v kc irarpiSa yaiav, 
 'QXiTO fxoi kXIoc iaOXov ini dtjpbv li /loi aiiiv 
 
 'Eaairat. 
 
 Iliad. 9. 
 
 Duplicia fata ducere ad mortis finem : 
 Si hie maueiis circa Troiim iirbem piig-iiavero, 
 Amittitur raihi reditus; scd g'loria iinmortalis erit: 
 Si domuin revertor dulce ad patrium solum, 
 Amittitur mibi gloria pulcbra, sed diutuma vita 
 Erit. 
 
 Vude sic mecum reputabam, multos graviure malo 
 minus bonum, morte gloriam, redemisse ; mibi coutra 
 majus bonum minore cum malo proponi : ut possem cum 
 caecitate sola vel honestissimum officii munus iniplere ; 
 quod ut ipsa gloria per se est solidius, ita cuique opta- 
 tius atque antiquius debet esse. Hac igitur tam brevi 
 luminum usura, quanta maxima quivi cum utilitate 
 publica, quoad liceret, fruendum esse statui. Videtis 
 quid prcetulerim, quid amiserim, qua inductus ratione: 
 desinantergojudiciorum Dei calumniatores maledicere, 
 deque me somnia sibi fingere : sic denique habento ; 
 me sortis meee ueque pigere neque poenitere; immotum 
 atque fixum in sententia perstare ; Deum iratum neque 
 sentire, neque habere, immo maximis in rebus cle- 
 mentiam ejuset benignitatem erga me paternara expe- 
 liri atque agnoscere; in hoc prsesertim, quod solante 
 ipso atque animum confirmante in ejus divina voluntate 
 acquiescam ; quid is largitus mibi sit quam quid nega- 
 rerit stepius cogitans : postremo nolle me cum suo 
 quovb rectissime facto, facti mei conscientiam permu- 
 tare, aut recordationera ejus gratam mibi semper atque 
 tranquillam deponere. Ad coecitatem denique quod 
 attinet, malle me, si necesse est, meani, quam vel suam, 
 More, vel tuam. Vestra imis sensibus immersa, nequid 
 sani videatis aut solidi, mentem obcaecat: mea, quam 
 objicitis, colorem tantummodo rebus et superficiem de- 
 mit; quod verum ac stabile in iis est contemplationi 
 mentis non adimit. Quam multa deindc sunt quae videre 
 nollem, quam multa quae possem libens non videre, 
 quam pauca reliqua sunt quee videre cupiam. Sed ne- 
 que ego caecis, afflictis, mcerentibus, imbecillis, tametsi 
 vos id miserum ducitis, aggregari me discrulior ; quan- 
 doquidem spes est, eo me propius ad misericordiam 
 summi patris atque tutelam pertinere. Est quoddam 
 per imbecillitatem, prceeunte Apostolo, ad maximas 
 vires iter : sim ego debilissinius, dummodo in mea de- 
 bilitate immortalis ille et melior vigor eo se efficaciiis 
 ezerat ; dummodo in meis tenebris divini vultus lumen 
 eo clarius eluceat ; turn enim infirmissimus ero simul et 
 validissimus, caecus eodem tempore et perspicacissimus; 
 hac possim ego infirmitate consummari, hac perfici, pos- 
 sim in hac obscuritale sic ego irradiari. Et sane baud 
 ultima Dei cura cseci sumus; qui nos, quo minus quic- 
 quara aliud praeter ipsum cemcre valemus, eo clemen- 
 tius atque benignii^s respicere dignatur. Vae qui illu- 
 dit nos, vte qui leedit, execrationc publica devovcndo; 
 uos ab iujuriis hominum non modo incolumes, scd peue 
 
 sacros, divina lex reddidit, divinus favur ; uec taui ocu- 
 lorum hebctudine, quam coelestium alarum umbra has 
 nobis fecisse tenebras videtur, factas illustrare rursus 
 interiore ac longe proestabiliore iuiiiiue baud raro solet. 
 Hue refero, quod et amici officiosiiis nunc etiam quam 
 solebant, colunt, observant, adsunt; quod et nonnuUi 
 sunt, quibuscum Pyladeas atque Theseas alteruare 
 voces verorum amicorum liccat. 
 
 Optar- 'EpTTt vvv oia^ noSSc fioi. Tlv. ^iXa y' tx,*>>v Ktfltv- 
 
 fioTa. 
 Orest. Vade gubernaculum mei pedis. Py. pergratam 
 
 mihi habeus curam. Eurip. in Orest. 
 
 Et alibi. 
 
 Da manum raiuistro amico. 
 
 AiSh Skpy (Tj/v x*v'> oStjytjaut ^' iyto. 
 Da collo manum tuam, ductor autem viae ero tibi ego. 
 Id. in Her. furent. 
 
 Non enim hoc casu factum me omnino nullum ; non 
 quicquid est probi aut cordati hominis, positum in ocu- 
 lis putant esse. Quin et summi quoque in rcpublicaj 
 viri, quandoquidem non otio torpentem me, sed impi- 
 grum et summa discrimina pro libertate inter primos 
 adeuntem ocuH deseruerunt, ipsi non deserunt; verum 
 bumana qualia sint, secum reputantes, tanquam emerito a 
 favent, indulgent, vacationem atque otium faciles con- I 
 cedunt ; si quid est ornamenti, non detrahunt; si quid 
 publici muneris, non adimunt ; si quid ex ea re cora- 
 modi, non minuunt; et quamvis non ueque nunc utilis, 
 praebendum nihilo minus benigne censent ; eodem 
 plane honore, aesi, ut olim Atheniensibus mos erat, in 1 
 Prytaneo alendum decrevissent. Sic mihi et apud Deum 
 etapudhominescaecitatemsolarimeam quandiu licuerit, 
 amissos honesti causa oculos, nemo meos lugeat; absit 
 quoque ut ipse lugeam, aut vel animi satis ut ne habeam 
 quo caecitatis convitiatores facile possim contemnere, 
 vel veniae ut ne possim faciliiis condonare. Ad te, 
 quisquis es, redeo, qui parum tibi constans, nunc purai- 
 lionem me, nunc Antaeura vis esse : " Non aliud " post- 
 remo optas "libentius foederatis Belgii Provinciis, quam 
 ut tam facile, tamque feliciter defungantur, hoc bello, 
 quam defungetur Salmasius Miltonio." Cui ego voto 
 facile assensero, arbitror me nostris successibus reique 
 Anglicanae nee ominari male nee male precari. j 
 
 En vero iterum clamorem, alienura quendam et stri- I 
 dulum ! auseres puto alicunde advolare: jam sentio 
 quid sit; memini clamoris baud esse tragoediam; pro- 
 dit chorus : en duo poetastri ; vel duo vel unus, biformi 
 sane specie et bicolore ; Sphingemne dicam an Hora- 
 tianuni illud monstrum Poeticum, capite muliebri, cer- 
 vice asinina variis indutum plumis, undique collatis 
 membris: id profecto ipsissimum est. Rhapsodus vide- 
 licet quispiam, centonibus et pannis obsitus; unusne 
 an duo incertum, nam et Anonymus quoque est. Poe- 
 tas equidem vcre dietos et diligo et colo, et audiendo 
 scepissinid delector; illorum etiam plerosque tyrannis 
 esse scio inimicissimos, si vel aprimis exorsus ad Buch- 
 ananum usque nostrum recensercm : istos vero versicu- 
 loium nugivcndos, quis non odcrit? quo gencre homi- 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 715 
 
 num nihil stiiltiiis, aut vuniiis, aut corruptius, aut 
 mendacius. Laudaut, vituperant, sine delectu, sine 
 discrimine, judicio, aut modo, nunc principes, nunc 
 plebeios, doctos juxta atque indoctos, probos an impro- 
 bos, perinde habent; prout Caiitbarus, aut spes num- 
 muli, aut fatuus ille furor inflat ac rapit; congestris 
 undique et verborum et rerum tot discoloribus ineptiis 
 tamque putidis, ut laudatum \onge prsestet sileri, et 
 pravo, quod a'iunt, vivere naso, quam sic laudari : vitu- 
 peratus vero qui sit, baud mediocri sane bonori sibi 
 ducat, se tarn absurdis, tam stolidis nebulonibus displi- 
 cere. Primus qui est, si modo bini sunt, dubito poeta 
 sit an caementaris; ita Salmasio os oblinit, immo totum 
 quasi parietem dealbat atque incrustat. Curru nempe 
 " triumphantem " inducit, heroem gigantomachum, 
 ** hasliiia et csestus," et nescio qute nug^amenta armo- 
 rum vibrantem, doctos omnes pedibus quadrigam se- 
 quentes, sed post terga ejus innumeris spatiis relictos, 
 utpote " quem nunien rebus trepidis salutem orbis ad- 
 moverit; tandem ergo tali tempus erat tegi umbone 
 reges, parente" nimirum " juris et imperii." Delirus 
 necesse est fuerit et bis puer Salmasius, qui his laudibus 
 non solum tantopere sibi placuerit, sed excudendas 
 etium quani primuni de se tam sedulo curaverit: Mi- 
 sellus etiam poeta atque indecorus, qui grammaticum, 
 quod genus hominum poetis ministrum semper atque 
 subscrviens fuit, tam immodicis laudibus dignetur. 
 Alter vero non versos facit, sed plane insanit enthusi- 
 astarum omnium quos tam rabide insectatur, ipse amen- 
 tissimus: hie Salmasii carnifex quasi sit, Syri dam.x' 
 filius, Lorarios invocat et Cadnium ; veratro deinde 
 ebrius, totam, quicquid ubique est, servulorum et bal- 
 lionum sentinam, ex Indice PlauMno evorait; credas 
 lingua Oscum non latiue loquentem, aut iuferarum, 
 quas natat, paludum coaxare ranam. Tum ut intelli- 
 gatis, quantus sit iamboruni artifex, duabus syllabis 
 una in voce peccat, altera producta, altera perperam 
 correpta. 
 
 Hi trucidato rege per horrendum nefas. 
 
 Aufer istas, asine, " vacivitatum" tuarum clitellas; 
 et tria verba, si potes, sani ac sobrii tandem bominis 
 affer; si tua ista cucurbita et " blennum caput" vel 
 ad punctum temporis potest sapere : interea te ego 
 puerorum " virgidemiis" tuis csedendum trado Orbi- 
 lium. Tu mihi sic perge raaledicere, ut " Cromuello 
 pejor" tibi sim, qua nulla majore me laude afficere po- 
 tuisti. Te vero benevolumne dicam, an stolid um, an 
 hostem insidiosum ? benevolus certe non es, verba enim 
 hostem indicant; cur ergo tam stolidus fuisti vitupera- 
 tor, ut anteferre me tanto viro in buccam tibi venerit ? 
 ecquid tu non intelligis, an me putas non intelligere, 
 quo graviora vestra in me esse odia ostenditis, eo vos 
 ampliora mea in rempublicam merita prtedicare, vestra 
 tot opprobria, tot mea esse apud meos praeconia ? Nam 
 si vos me omnium maxime odistis, sand ego vos om- 
 nium maxime exulceravi, vos ego maxime afflixi, cau- 
 sueque vestrae nocui : id si ita est, idem ego de meis 
 civibus optime quoque merui; hostis enim vel testimo- 
 nium vel judicium, etsi alias leve admodum, de suo ta- 
 men dolore longe est gravissimum. An poeta non 
 
 meministi, ciim de Achillis mortui armis, Ajax et Ulysses 
 conteuderent, non Groecos populares sed Trojanos hostes 
 ex sententia Nestoris judices datos ? 
 
 TovvtKa Tpwirlv ifwfiev tv<ppoffi rrjvde ^ixaaat. 
 
 Quapropter Trojanis permittamus prudentibus banc 
 litem judicandam. 
 
 Et paulo post, 
 
 Oi pa diict}v iOitav stti ff^jcri TcoirjaovTai, 
 
 Ov Tivi yjpa fipovTig, inti fiaXa ndvrag ^Axcitoiis 
 
 'Iffov a7rfx0'<<p«fft KaKTJc fiifivrjutvot arriz. 
 
 Qui justum judicium de iis fecerint, 
 
 Nemini gratificantes, cum vehementer omnes Achivos 
 
 iEqu^ odcrint, mali memores damni. 
 
 Htec Smymaeus ille, sive Calaber. Insidiosus itaque sis 
 oportet, meque in invidiam conjicere labores, qui quod 
 judicium in hoste rectum atque sincerum esse solet, id 
 dolo malo et graviiis laedendi animo corrumpis atque de- 
 pravas, ita non vir modo, sed et hostis depravatissimus 
 es. Venim ego nullo negotio frustrabor te, vir bone; 
 quanquamenim Ulyssem, id est, quam optime de patria 
 meritum me esse sane perquam vellem, tamen Achilleia 
 armanonambio; coelum in clypeopictum,quod alii, non 
 ego, in certamine aspiciant, proeferre, onus non pictum 
 sed verum, humeris portare, quod ego, non alii senliant, 
 non quaero : equidem cum nullas omnino simultates 
 aut inimicitias ullo cum homine privatas geram, neque 
 ullus, quod sciam, raecum gerat, tot in me maledicta 
 jactari, tot probra torqueri, reipublicae duntaxat causa, 
 non mea, eo aequiore animo fero : nee pra;mii et com- 
 modorum inde provenientium, partem long^ minimam, 
 ignominiie longe maximam pervenisse ad me queror ; 
 coiitentus quae honcsta factu sunt, ea propter se solum 
 appctisse, et gratis persequi: id alii viderint, tuque 
 scito, me illas " opimitates " atque " opes," quas mihi 
 exprobas, non attigisse, neque eo nomine quo maxime 
 accusas, obolo factum ditiorem. Hie rursus infit Morus, 
 et secunda epistola causas scribendi refert ; cuinam ? 
 " Lectori Christiano " nempe moechus et stuprator 
 Morus salutem : piam sane epistolam promittis ; jam 
 causas incipe. " Excitati sunt Europaearum gentium 
 animi, maxima omnium Galli nostri reformati, ut par- 
 ricidium et parricidas, &c. cognoscerent." Galli et ipsi 
 reformati contra leges bella gesserunt ; quid ulterius 
 fuissent facturi, paribus usi rerum successibus, affirmari 
 non potest : certe reges ipsorum, si qua earum rerum 
 monumentis fides, ab illis baud minus metuebant sibi, 
 quam a nobis noster : neque injuria, quoties meminis- 
 sent quae etiam illi scriptitarunt, et minati saepe sunt : 
 Nolint igitur, quicquid tu causare, splendide nimis de 
 se polliceri, iniquiiis de nobis sentire. Pergitin causis. 
 " Equidem ea Anglorum melioris notse consuetudine 
 sum usus." Qui tibi sunt melioris notae, viris bonis 
 sunt pessimae. " Ut ausim dicere me ista hominum 
 monstra nosse intus et in cute." Putabam te moechas 
 tantummodo tuas et scorta ; tu etiam monstra intus et 
 in cute. " Ut nomen meura premerem, facile impe- 
 trarunt Angli quibuscum consuevi." Et astute quidem 
 illi: sic enim sperabant etse impudentia tuaeo largiore 
 fruituros, et te tua fama, etiam tum mala, eo minus 
 
716 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGLIC ANO, 
 
 causae nociturum. Noverant enim te, et quam esses 
 oliin bonus hortorum custos, et nunc rasus licet et 
 pumicatus sacerdos, ut k Pontia ne Pilata quideiii ab- 
 stinere manus potueris ; nee de nibilo sane, si cniin k 
 conficieuda came caniifex dictus putatur, cur minus tu 
 conficiendo Puntiam Pontifex f'actus ex sacerdote tibi 
 videare ? Heec cum de te non nescirent alii, cum non 
 posses ipse quin tibimet conscires, tanien incredibili, et 
 execranda quadam impietate palam audes proiiteri, te 
 " Dei ^loriani unice quaerere, et vindicare :" et duni 
 ipse tuqiissima quaeris, simul accusare alios, quod 
 " pietatis larram criminibus imponant :" cum id nemo 
 manifestiiis ac sceleratius qukni tu ipse facis, unquam 
 fecerit. " Ad reruni " ais " gcstaruni seriem magno " 
 tibi " fuisse adjumento cum alios scriptores turn max- 
 ime elenchum motuum nuperorum in Ang'lia." Nje tu 
 ineptus bomo es, qui tanto clamore facto, quod tuum 
 sit nihil afferas; sed scriptores tantum, regiis partibus 
 addictos eoque merito suspectos authores contra nos 
 adducere potuisti, quorum iides si elevabitur, pro^edi 
 nequeas. Nos igitur scriptores illos, si opus erit et 
 elenchum elencho refutabimus, non iliis per te, sed tibi 
 per illos, cum visum erit respondebimus ; tibi quae de 
 tuo protuleris, videndum interea, ut tueri queas ; quae 
 cujusmodi sint, ab inipio et plane atheo nomine pro- 
 fecta, audiant nunc omnes pii et horrescant. " Jubet 
 amor Dei, et injuriae sancto ejus nomini factce sensus 
 acerrimus cogit supplices manus ad Deum attollere." 
 Abde, abde obscoenas illas manus, quas libidine et am- 
 bitione supinatus attollere non vereris, ne ccclum ipsum 
 quoque audeas iis manibus incestare, quibus sacra re- 
 ligionis mysteria contrectando polluisti. Quam enim 
 divinam ultionem aliis temerarius et vtecorsimprecaris, 
 earn in ipsius tuum impurissimum caput devocasse ts 
 dim intelliges. 
 
 Hactenus clamoris quasi preeludia fuere ; nunc, (sum- 
 mas enim, et prop^ solas in hoc dramate partes clamor 
 obtinet,) quam potest maximo hiatu, rictum diducit: in 
 coelum scilicet iturus ; quo si ascenderit, in neniinem 
 profecto acrius clamabit quam in ipsum clamatorem 
 Morum. " Ciim omnibus seculis sacra fuerit regum 
 majestas, &c." Multa tu quidem. More, vulgariter, 
 raulta malitios^ in nos dcclamas, qute nihil attinent : 
 regis enim caedes, et tjranni supplicium non sunt idem, 
 More, non sunt, inter se distant longissime, atque dis- 
 tabunt, dum sensus et ratio, jus atque fas, rectique et 
 obliqui judicium hominibus concedetur. Verum de 
 his satis jam saepiiis dictum, satis defensum est: non 
 patiar qui tot diris inanibus laedere non potes, ut repe- 
 tita crambe nos demum occidas. De patientia, deinde 
 et pietate, bell6 disputas : sed 
 
 de virtute loquutus 
 
 Clunetn agitas : ego te ceventem more verebor? 
 
 " Omnes" ais " reformatos, pnesertira Belgas et Gal- 
 los, factum nostrum horruisse ;" et statim, " bonis 
 ubique non licuisse, idem sentire et loqui." Sed te tibi 
 repng^are leviculum est; hoc multo indignius atque 
 atrocius : " prae nostro," inquis, " scelere, nihil fuit 
 Judtporum scelus, Christum crucifigcntium, sive homi- 
 num mentem.siTesceleriseflTcctus compares." Furiosc! 
 
 tune Christi minister perpetratuni facinus in Chiisttiin 
 tarn Icviter fcrs, quacunquc demum " mcnte " Tel 
 " effectu," ut pari scelere interfectum quemlibct rcgeni 
 audeas dicere? Judaei certc clarissimis indiciis Dei 
 filiuni ugnovissc poterant; nos Carolum non esse ty- 
 rannum, nulla ratione potimus intelligere. Eventus 
 autem, ad minuendum scelus, ineptissime facis men- 
 tionem : verOm semper animadverto regios, quo quis- 
 que acrior est, eo levius ferre quicquid committitur in 
 Christum, quam si quid in regem : cui tameu cum 
 Christi praecipue causa obediendum doceant, facile 
 ostendunt se neque Christum vere colere, neque regem : 
 sed aliud quiddam sibi quaerentes, incredibilem banc 
 erga reges fidem ac religionem suam, vel ambitioni, 
 vel occultis quibusdam aliis cupiditatibus obtendere. 
 " Prodiit ergo magnus literarum princeps Salmasius." 
 Desine toties magnum illud, More; quod millies lic6t 
 ingesseris, baud cuiquam profecto intelligenti persua- 
 seris magnum esse Salmasium, sed minimum esse Mo- 
 rum, et nullius pretii homulum, qui, quid deceat igna- 
 rus, magni cognomine tam imperite abutatur. Nos 
 grammaticis atque criticis, quorum summa laus aut in 
 alienis lucubrationibus edendis, aut lihrariorum mendu- 
 lis corrigendis versatur, industriam quidem ac literarum 
 scientiam, doctrinae etiam baud contemnendae laudem, 
 ac praemia libenter concedimus, magni cognomen baud 
 largimur. Is solus magnus est appellandus, qui res 
 magnas ant gerit, aut docet, aut digne scribit : res au- 
 tem magnsE sunt solae, quae vel vitam banc nostrara 
 efficiunt beatam, aut saltem cum honestate commodam 
 atque jucundam, vel ad alteram ducunt beatiorem. 
 Horum vero Salmasius quid egit ? egit vero nihil : quid 
 autem docuit aut scripsit magnum ? nisi forte contra 
 episcopos, et primatum papee, quod ipse postea et suis 
 moribus, et aliis in nos pro episcopatu scriptis, recan- 
 tatum penitus evertit. Magnus ergo scriptor dici non 
 debet, qui aut nihil magnum, aut quod optimum in 
 vita scripserat, ei foedissim^ renunciavit. " Literarum 
 princeps" ut sit, et alpbabeti per me licet; at vero tibi 
 non " princeps" modo " literarum" est, sed " patronus 
 regum," et " patronus quidem dignus tantis clientibus." 
 Pulchre tu quidem regibus consuluisti, ut post alios 
 insignes titulos, Claudii Salmasii clientes appellentur. 
 Ea nimirum lege solvimini cunctis aliis legibus reges, 
 ut in clientelam gramniatico tradatis vos Salmasio, 
 sceptra ferulae submittatis: " Debebunt ei reges, dnm 
 stabit orbis, dignitatis et salutis suae vindicias." Audite 
 principes; qui pessim^ vos defendit, immo ne defendit 
 quidem, nemo enim oppugnavit, dignitatem et salu- 
 tem vestram sibi imputat. Hoc nempe solum con- 
 sequuti sunt, qui snperbissimum grammaticum susti- 
 nendis regum rationibus et tinearum et blattarum foro 
 advocarunt. " Cui quantum res regia, tantundem 
 etiam ecclesia debebit;" non laudem san^, sed nieri- 
 tissimam desertae suae causae notam. Nunc in laudes 
 effunderis defensionis regiae ; " ingenium, doctrinam, 
 infinitum prope rerum usum, et intimam sacri et pro- 
 fani juris penum, concitatae orationis vigorem, elo- 
 quentiam, facundiam aurei illius operis" admiraris, 
 quorum cum nihil affuisse homini contendo (quid 
 enim Salmasio cum eloquentia?) turn aureum fuisse 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 717 
 
 illud opus vel centies fateor; tot eiiim Caroliis aiireos 
 mmieravit, ne dicam quid Arausiacus etiam princeps 
 in idem opus profuderit. " Nunquam major surrexit 
 vir magrius, nunquam magis Salmasius :" et tanto 
 quidem major ut se niperit, quara mag'nus enim fuerit 
 in illo opere jam vidimus; et siquid ejusdem argu- 
 menti, ut f'ertur, posthumum reliquit, fortasse videbimus. 
 Non equidem iiificior, edito illo libro, Salmasium in 
 ore omnium fuisse, regiis mire placuisse; " ab augus- 
 tissima Suecioe regina, amplissiinis praemiis Invitatum; 
 quinimo tota ilia contentione Salmasio secunda omnia, 
 adversa mihi pene omnia fuere. Primum de illius eru- 
 dilione, erat hominum summa opinio, quam multis ab 
 annis jam diu collegerat, libros conscribendo multos, 
 et bene magnos, non eos quidem plerumque utiles, sed 
 abstrusissimis de rebus, et summorum authorum citati- 
 unculis differtos ; quo nibil citius literatorum vulgus 
 in admirationem rapit; me vero quis essem, nemo in 
 iis fere rcgionibus norat ; magnam ille sui expectatio- 
 nem concitarat, attentior operi quam sulebat alias, ut 
 in re tanta; ego mei nullam potui movere: immo vero 
 multi me ab illo dehortabantur, tyronem cum veterano 
 congressurum, partim invidentes, ne utcunque mihi 
 gloriee foret cum tanto hoste decertasse ; partim et mihi, 
 et causte metuentes, ne utriusque gravi cum ignominia 
 victus discederem ; causa denique speciosa atque plau- 
 sibilis, inveterata vulgi opinio, sive superstitio dicenda 
 potius est, et propensus iu regium nomen favor Salmasio 
 vires et spiritus addiderat ; eadem omnia contra me 
 fecerc, quo magis est mirandum, quamprimum responsio 
 nostra prodiit, non si a plerisque avide arripcretur, 
 videre gestientibus ecquis tam praeceps animi csset ut 
 auderet cum Salmasio confligere, sed tani esse placitam 
 muUis atque gratam, ut, non authoris, sed ipsius veri- 
 tatis ratione babita, qui modo summo in bonore fuerat 
 Salmasius, nunc quasi detracta, sub qua latuerat, per- 
 sona, et existimatione, et animo repente caderet ; seqne 
 asserere, tamctsi omnibus nervis id agens, quoad vixit 
 postca non valuerit. Te vero, serenissima Suecorum 
 regina, tuumque illud acre judicium fallere baud diu 
 potuit; tu veritatis partium studiis anteferendte, prin- 
 ceps atque author prope dicam ccelestis extitisli. 
 Quam vis enim ilium hominem eximite doctrinas fama, 
 causteque regise patrocinio tunc temporis longe omnium 
 celeberrimum, a te invitatum, multis honoribus affecis- 
 ses, tanien prodeunte illo responso, et singulari lequa- 
 nimitate abs te perlecto, postquam vanitatis et apertis- 
 simae corruptelse redargutum Salmasium, multaleviter, 
 multa immoderate, falsa quaedam, adversus seipsum 
 alia, et prioribus sententiis contraria disseruisse ani- 
 mad verteras, ad qupe, coram accitus, ut ferunt, quod satis 
 responderet nibil habuit, ita palam animo affecta es, ut 
 ab illo tempore neque hominem, ut antea, colere, neque 
 ejus ingenium aut doctrinam magni facere, et, quod 
 erat pland inopinatum, ejus adversario propensiiis 
 favere, omnes te intelligerent. Quod enim erat in ty- 
 rannos dictum, negabas id ad te ullo modo pcrtinere : 
 unde et apud te fructum, et apud alios famam rectissi- 
 mae conscientise adepta es. Cum enim tua facta satis 
 declarent, tyrannum te non esse, hsec tua tam aperta 
 animi significatio adhuc clarius demonstrabat, te ejus 
 
 rei ne omniiio quidem tibi esse consciam. O me spe 
 mea omni feliciorem! (eloquentiam enim, nisi quae in 
 ipsa veritate Suada est, nullam mihi sumo ;) qui, cum 
 in ea patriaj tempora incidissem, ut necesse esset in 
 causa tam ardua tamque invidiosa versari, ut jus omne 
 regium impugnare viderer, tam illustrcm, tam vere 
 regiam nactus sim integritatis meae testeni atque inter- 
 pretem, nullum me verbum fecisse contra reges, sed 
 contra regum labes ac pestes, duntaxat tjrannos. Te 
 vero magnanimam, Augusta, te tutam undique divina 
 plane virtute ac sapientia munitam ! qute quod in jus 
 tuum ac dignitatem poterat videri scriptum, non solum 
 tam aequo animo atque sedato, tam incredibili mentis 
 candore, vultusque vera serenitate perlegere sustiiiuisti; 
 sed contra ipsum patronum tuum ejusmodi sententiara 
 ferre, ut ejus adversario palmam etiam adjudicare a 
 plerisque existimeris. Quo te bonore, qua te venerati- 
 one, regina, prosequi semper debuero, cujus excelsa 
 virtus ac magnitudo animi non tibi solum gloriosa, sed 
 mihi etiam tam fausta atque fortunata, et suspicione 
 me omni atque infamia apud alios reges liberavit, 
 et pra^claro ac immortali hoc beneficio tibi in per- 
 petuum devinxit. Quam bene de a^quitate tua, de- 
 que justitia et sen tire exteri, et sentire et sperare 
 semper tui populi debebunt, qui, ciim tua res ac 
 majestas ipsa agi videretur, tam nihil turbatam te 
 de tuo baud minus placide, quam de populi jure soles, 
 judicantem viderunt. Jam tu quidem baud temere, tot 
 conquisita undique volumina, tot literarum monumenta 
 congessisti, non quasi te ilia quicquam docere, sed 
 ut ex illis tui cives te discere, tuaeque virtutis ac sapi- 
 entiaepraestantiam contemplaripossint; cujus ipsa divae 
 species, nisi tuo animo penitus insedisset, el quasi oculis 
 conspiciendam se tibi praebuisset, baud ulla profecto li- 
 brorum lectione, tam incredibiles amores excitasset in 
 te sui : quo magis ilium mentis tuae vigorem pland 
 tethereum et quasi purissimam divince auras partem in 
 illas ultimas regiones delapsam admiramur; quam ne- 
 que coelum illud triste ac nubilosum ullis frigoribus ex- 
 tinguere aut gravare, neque solum illud horridum ac 
 salebrosum,quod etingeniaquoqueincolarum baud raro 
 indurat, quicquam in te intequale aut asperum creare po- 
 tuit: quin et ipsa terra ilia, tot metallis foecunda, si 
 aliis noverca, tibi certe alma parens, te sumniis enixa 
 viribus totam auream produxisse videtur. Dicerem 
 Adolphi filiam invicti atque inclyti regis unicam pro- 
 lem, nisi tu illi," Christina," tantum prseluceres, quan- 
 tum viribus sapientia, belli artibus pacis studia prae- 
 cellunt. Jam inde profecto regina austri baud sola 
 celebrabitur : habet nunc et septentrio reginam suam, 
 et dignam sane quae non modo sapientissimum ilium 
 Judaeorum regem, aut siquis unquam similis futurus 
 esset, auditum proficisceretur, sed ad quam alii tan- 
 quam ad clarissimum regalium virtutum exemplar, et 
 visendam omnibus heroinam, undique concurrant: nul- 
 lumque in terris fastigium par esse ejus laudibus ac 
 meritis fateantur, in qua minimum hoc esse videant, 
 quod sit regina, tot gentium monarcba. Non autem 
 hoc minimum, quod etiam hoc esse decorum suorum 
 minimum ipsa sentiat, aliudque longe niajus atque 
 sublimius meditetur, quam regnare ; hoc ipso nomine 
 
718 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPI'LO AXGLICANO, 
 
 innumeris regibus prcepouenda. Potest itaquc, si ea 
 manet Suecorum gentem calamitas, regnum abdicare, 
 reginain depoiiere luinquam potest, non Sueciac sed 
 totius orbis terrarum dig-nam se imperio testata. 
 
 In has digressum me reginse meritissimas laudes 
 nemo est, opinor, qui non collaudet, nedum reprehen- 
 dat ; quas ego quidem sine summa ingratitudinis 
 culpa, Tcl aliis tacentibus, praetermittere non potui ; 
 qui nescio qua mea sorte, sane felicissima, aut si quis 
 est occultus vel sidemm, vel animorum, vel reruni con- 
 sensus aut moderanien, tantam arbitram quam omnium 
 minimesperabaro, omnium maxim^ optabam,tam mihi 
 sequam et faventem in ultimis terns repererim. Nunc 
 ad rclictuni opus, long^ quidem diversissimum, rede- 
 undum tamen est. " Infremuisse,"ais, " nos ad defen- 
 sionis regioe famam ; dispexisse igitur grammaticas- 
 trum aliquem famelicum, qui venalem calamum parri- 
 cidii patrocinio vellet commodare." Haec abs te ma- 
 litiosissim^ ficta sunt, ex quo memineras, regios, cum 
 suis mendaciis ac maledicentiae proeconem dispicerent, 
 adiisse grammaticum, si non famelicum, certe auri plus 
 nimio sitientem Salmasium ; qui non solum praesentem 
 operam suam, sed bonam quoque mentem, si quam 
 priiis habuit, illis libentissime vendidit ; ex quo memi- 
 neras Salmasium, fama jam deplorata atque perdita, 
 cum dispiceret, qui existimationem afflictam atque ob- 
 tritam, quoquo modo reparare quiret, te invenisse justo 
 Dei judicio, non, unde excussus es, ministrum Gene- 
 vensem, sed episcopum Lampsacenum, id est, ex horto 
 Priapum, suae domus constupratorem ; unde et insul- 
 sissimas laudes, tanto cum dedecore emptas aversatus, 
 et ex amico inimicissimus factus, tibi laudator! suo, 
 multa moriens imprecatus est. " Unus inventus est, 
 magnus scilicet heros, quem Salmasio opponerent, Jo- 
 annes Miltonus." Ego heroem me esse nesciebam, tu 
 hcrois cujuspiam forte filius per me sis licet; totus 
 enira noxa es. Atque unum me esse inventum, qui 
 causam populi Anglicani tuear, si reipublicae rationes 
 cogito, san^ quam doleo, si laudem, ejus participem 
 habere me neminem facile patior. Quis et unde sim 
 dubium ais esse. Tam olim erat dubium quis Ho- 
 merus, quis Demosthenes. Equidem tacere diu, et 
 posse non scribere, quod nunquam potuit Salmasius, 
 didiceram ; eaque in sinu <jestabam tacitus, qutB si tum 
 proferre libuisset, aeque ac nunc, inclaruisse jamdudum 
 poteram : sed cunctantis famse avidus non eram, ne 
 faaec quidem, nisi idonea data occasione unquam prola- 
 turns ; nihil laborans etsi alii me qutecunque nossem 
 scire nesciebant ; non enim famam sed opportunitatcm 
 cujusque rei preestolabar ; unde factum est, ut multo 
 ante plurimis essem notus, quam Salmasius notus esset 
 sibi ; nunc Andremone notior est caballo. " Homone 
 an vermis." Equidem malim me vermem esse, quod 
 fatetur de se etiam rex Davidcs, quam tuum vermem 
 in pectore nunquam moriturum intus celare. " Aiunt," 
 inquis, " hominem Cantabrigiensi academia ob flagitia 
 pulsum, dedecus et patriam fugisse, et in Italiam com- 
 migrasse." Vel hinc licebit conjicere qudra veraces illi 
 fuerint, ex quibus res nostras auditione accepisti ; hie 
 enim et tc et illos impudentissime mentiri et norunt 
 omnes qui me norunt, et statim amplius ostendam. Pul- 
 
 sus veru Cantabrigia, cur in Italiam potius qiiaiii in 
 Galliam aut Hollandiam commigrarem? ubi tu tot fla- 
 gitiis coopert us, minister Evangelii, non modo impunS 
 vivis, sed concionaris, sed sacra etiam ministcria, suinmo 
 cum illius ecclesite opprobrio, inquinatissimis manibus 
 conspurcas. Cur vero in Italiam, More? novus credo 
 Saturnus, utalicubi laterem,in Latium scilicet profugi. 
 Veriim ego Italiam, non, ut tu putas, facinorosorura la- 
 tibulum aut asylum, sed humanitatis potius, et civilium 
 doctrinarum omnium hospitium et novcrcam antea, et 
 expertus sum. " Reversus librum de divortiisconscrip- 
 sit." Non aliud scripsi atque ante me Bucerus de regno 
 Christi copiose, Fagius in Deuteronomiura, Erasmus in 
 Epistolam primam ad Corinthios dedita opera in Anglo- 
 rum gratiam, aliique multi pcrcelebres viri, in commune 
 bonum scripserunt. Quod in illis nemo reprehendit, 
 cur id milii prte cseteris fraudi esset, non intelligo : vel- 
 lem hoc tanttim, sermone vernaculo me non scripsisse ; 
 non enim in vernas lectores incidissem ; quibus solenne 
 est sua bona ignorare, aliorum mala irridere. Tens 
 vero, turpissime, de divortiis obstrepere, qui cum Pon- 
 tia ancilla tibi desponsata, post stuprum eo obtentu 
 illatum, immanissimum omnium divortium fecisti ? Et 
 tamen erat ilia Salmasii famula, Anglica, ut fertur, 
 foemina, regiis partibus apprim6 dedita ; nempe boo 
 erat, scelerate, adamasti ut rem regiam, reliquisti ut rem 
 publicam, cujus tamen conversionis, quam odisse adeo 
 vis videri, vide ne ipse author fueris; vide inquam ne 
 subversa funditusdominatione Salmasiana Pontiam ipse 
 in rem publicam converteris. Et hoc modo multas tu 
 quidem una in urbe res publicas, regius licet, aut fun- 
 dasse diceris aut ab aliis fundatas minister publicas 
 administrare. Haec tua sunt divortia, sen mavis, diver- 
 ticula, unde in me Curius prodiisti. Ad mendacianuuc 
 redis. " Cum de regis capite inter conjuratos ageretur, 
 scripsit ad eos, et nutantes in malam partem impulit." 
 Ego vero neque ad eos scripsi, neque impellere attinebat, 
 quibus id omnino agere sine me deliberatum jam erat : 
 veriim ea de re quid scripserim, infra dicetur, uti etiam 
 de Iconoclaste. Nunc quoniam iste (hominem an dicam 
 hsereo, ])urgamentum potius horainis) ab ancillarum 
 adulteriis, ad adulterandam omnem veritatem progres- 
 sus, congestis in me tot una serie mendaciis, apud ex- 
 teros infamem reddere conatus est, peto ne quis rem 
 secus interpretetur, aut in invidiam trabat, neve mo- 
 leste ferat, si de me plura quam vellem et dixi supra, 
 et porro dicam : ut si oculos a caecitate, nomen ab ob- 
 livione aut calumnia non possum, vitam tamen possim 
 ab ea saltem obscuritate qute cum macula sit, in lucem 
 vindicare. fdque non unam ob causam mihi erit neces- 
 sario faciendum. Primiim ut tot viros bonos atque 
 doctos, qui per omnes vicinas gentes nostra jam legunt, 
 deque me baud male sentiunt, ne propter hujus male- 
 dicta mei pueniteat; veriim itasibi persuadeant non eum 
 esse me, qui honestam orationem inbonestis moribus, 
 aut liberd dicta serviliter factis, unquam dedecorarini ; 
 vitamque nostram, Deo bene juvante, ab omni turpitu- 
 dine ac flagitio remotam long6 semper fuisse: deinde, 
 ut quos laudandos mihi sumo viros illustres ac laude 
 dignos, hi sciant nihil me pudendum magis existimare, 
 quam si ad eorum laudes vituperandus ipse ac nequam 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 719 
 
 accederem ; sciat denique populus Ang'licamis, quern 
 ut defenderem, meiira sive latum sive officium, sua vir- 
 tus impulit, si vitara pudentur atque honeste semper egi, 
 tneam del'ensioiiem, nescio an honori aut ornamento, 
 cert^ pudori aut dedecori nunquam sibi fore : qui igitur, 
 et unde sim, nunc dicain. Londini sum natus, genere 
 houesto, patre viro inlegerrimo, matre probatissima, et 
 eleemosynis per viciniam potissimiim nota. Pater me 
 puerulum liumaniorum literarum studiis destinavit ; 
 quas ita avide arripui, ut ab anno oetatis duodecimo 
 vix unquam ante mediam noctem a lucubrationibus 
 cubitum discederem ; quse prima oculorura pernicies 
 fuit: quorum ad naturalem debilitatem accesserant et 
 crebri capitis dolores; quae omnia cum discendi impe- 
 tum non retardarent, et in ludo literario, et sub aliis 
 donii magistris erudiendum quotidie curavit: ita variis 
 instructum Unguis, etpercepta baud leviter philosopbise 
 dulcedine, ad gymnasium gentisalterum, Cantabrigiam 
 misit: Illic disciplinis atque artibus tradi solitis sep- 
 tennium studui : procul omni flagitio, bonis omnibus 
 probatus, usquedum magistri, qucm vocant, gradum, 
 cum laude etiam adeptus, non in Italiam, quod impu- 
 rus ille comminiscitur, profugi, sed sponte mea domuni 
 me contuli, meique etiam desiderium, apud collegii 
 plerosque socios k quibus eram baud mediocritcr cultus, 
 reliqui. Paterno rure, quo is transigendae senectutis 
 causa concesserat, evolvendis Graecis Latinisque scrip- 
 toribus summum per otium totus vacavi ; ita tamen 
 ut nonnunquam, rus urbe mutarem, aut coemendo- 
 rum gratia libvorum, aut novum quidpiam in matbe- 
 maticis, vel in musicis, quibus turn oblectabar, addis- 
 cendi. Exacto in bunc modum quinquennio, post 
 matris obitum, regionos exteras, et Italiam potissi- 
 miim, videndi cupidus, exorato patre, uno cum famulo 
 profectus sum. Abeuntem vir clarissimus Henricus 
 Woottonus, qui ad Venetos orator Jacobi regis diu 
 fuerat, et votis et praecepfis, eunti peregrd sane uti- 
 lissimis, eleganti epistola perscriptis, me amicissime 
 prosequutus est. Commcndatum ab aliis nobilissimus 
 vir Thomas Scudamorus vicecomes Slegonensis, Caroli 
 regis legatus, Parisiis bumanissime accepit ; meque 
 Hugoni Grotio viro eruditissimo, ab regina Suecorum 
 tunc temporis ad Galliae regem legato, quem invisere 
 cupiebam, suo nomine, et suorum uno atque altero de- 
 ducente, commendavit: Discedenti post dies aliquot 
 Italiam versus, literas ad mercatores Anglos, qua iter 
 eram facturus, dedit, ut quibus possent officiis mibi 
 praesto essent. Niceea solvens, Genuam perveni ; mox 
 Liburnum et Pisas, inde Florentiam. Ilia in urbe, 
 quam prte cseteris propter elegantiam cum linguse turn 
 ingeniorum semper colui, ad duos circiter menses sub- 
 stiti ; illic multorum et nobilium sane et doctorum 
 hominum familiaritatem statim contraxi; quorum etiam 
 privatas acaderaias (quimos illic, cum ad literas huma- 
 niores, tum ad amicitias conservaudas laudatissimus 
 est) assidu^ frequentavi. Tui enim Jacobe Gaddi, 
 Carole Dati, Frescobalde, Cultelline, Bonraatthsei, 
 Clementille, Francine, aliorumque plurium memoriam, 
 apud me semper gratam atque jucundam, nulla dies 
 delebit. Florentia Senas, inde Roraam profectus, post- 
 quam illius urbis antiquitas et prisca fama me ad bi- 
 
 mestre fere spatium tenuisset, (ubi et Luca Holstenio, 
 aliisque viris cum doctis tum ingeniosis, sum usus hu- 
 manissimis,) Neapolim perrexi : Illic per eremitam 
 quendam, quicum Roma iter feceram, ad Joannera 
 Baptistam Mansum, marchionem Villensem, virum 
 nobilissimum atque gravissimum, (ad quem Torquatus 
 Tassus insignis poeta Italus de amicitia scripsit,) sum 
 introductus; eodemque usus, quamdiu illic fui, sane 
 amicissimo ; qui et ipse me per urbis loca et proregis 
 aulam circumduxit, et visendi gratia baud semel ipse 
 ad liospitium venit : Discedenti serio excusavit se, 
 tametsi multo plura detulisse mibi ofBcia maximd 
 cupiebat, non potuisse ilia in urbe, propterea quod no- 
 lebam in religione esse tectior. In Siciliam quoque et 
 Grseciam trajicere volentem me, tristis ex Anglia belli 
 civilis nuntius revocavit : Turpe enim existimabam, 
 dura mei cives domi de libertate dimicarent, ne animi 
 causa otiose peregrinari. Romam autem rerereurum, 
 monebant mercatores se didicisse per literas parari 
 mibi ab Jesuitis Anglis insidias, si Romam reverterem ; 
 eo quod de religione nimis libere loquutus essem. Sic 
 enim mecum statueram,de religione quidera iis in locis 
 sermones ultro non inferre ; interrogatus de fide, quic- 
 quid essem passurus, nihil dissimulare. Romam itaque 
 nibilominus redii : Quid essem, si quis interrogabat, 
 neminem celavi ; si quis adoriebatur, in ipsa urbe pon- 
 tiHcis, altcros prope duos menses, orthodoxam religio- 
 nem, ut antea, liberrime tuebar : Deoque sic volente, 
 incolumis Florentiam rursus perveni ; baud minus mei 
 cupientes revisens, ac si in patriam revertissem. Illic 
 totidem, quot priiis, menses libenter commoratus, nisi 
 quod ad paucos dies Luccam excucurri, transcenso 
 Apennino, per Bononiam et Fcrraram, Venetias con- 
 tend!. Cui urbi lustrandoe cum mensem unum impen- 
 dissem, et libros, quos per Italiam conquisiveram, in 
 navem imponendos curassem, per Veronam ac Medio- 
 lanura, et Paeninas Alpes, lacu denique Lemanuo, 
 Genevam delatus sum. Quee urbs, cum in mentem 
 mihi hinc veniat Mori calumniatoris, facit ut Deum 
 hie rursus testem invocem, me his omnibus in locis, 
 ubi tam multa licent, ab omni flagitio ac probro inte- 
 grum atque intactum vixisse, illud perpetuo cogitantem, 
 si hominum latere oculos possem, Dei cert^ non posse. 
 Genevse cum Joanne Deodato, theologiae professore 
 doctissimo, quotidianus versabar. Deinde eodem itin- 
 ere, quo prius, per Galliam, post annum et tres plus 
 minus menses in patriam revertor ; eodem ferme 
 tempore quo Carolus cum Scotis, rupta pace, bellum 
 alterum quod vocant episcopale, redintegrabat ; in 
 quo fusis primo congressu regiis copiis, cum vide- 
 ret etiam omnes Anglos, et merito quidem, in se 
 pessime animatos, malo coactus, non sponte, par- 
 lamentum baud ita multo post convocavit. Ipse, 
 sicubi possem, tam rebus turbatis et fluctuantibus, 
 locum consistendi circumspiciens, mihi librisque meis, 
 sat amplara in urbe domum conduxi ; ibi ad inter- 
 missa studia beatulus me recepi ; rerum exitu Deo im- 
 primis, et quibus id muneris populus dabat, facile per- 
 misso. Interea parlamento rem strenue gerente, episco- 
 porum fastus detumuit. Ut primiim loqucndi saltern 
 coepta est libertasconcedi, omnia iu episcopos apeririora ; 
 
720 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 alii de ipsorum vitiis, alii de ipsius ordinis vitio con- 
 queri; iniquum esse, se solos ab ecclesiis omnibus, 
 quotquot reformatBB sunt, discrcpare ; exemplo fratrum, 
 sed maxiin^ ex verbo Dei, g-ubernari ecclcsiam conve- 
 nire. Ad bepc sane experrectus, cum veram afTectari 
 yiam ad libertatem cernerem, ab his initiis, his passi- 
 bus, ad liberandam servitute vitam omnem mortalium, 
 rectissime procedi, si ab religione disciplina orta, nd 
 mores et institula reipublics emanaret, cum etiam mc 
 ita ab adolescentia parasscm, ut quid divini, quid 
 human! esset juris, ante omnia possem non i{fnoraie, 
 meque consuluissem ecquando ulliususus essem futurus, 
 si nunc patriie, inrao vero ecclesiae totque fratribus 
 evangvlii causa, periculo sese objicientibus deessem, 
 statuti, etsi tunc alia qiiapdam meditabar, hue omne in- 
 genium, omnes industriae vires transferre. Primum 
 itaque de reformanda ecclesia Anglicana, duos ad ami- 
 cum quendani libros conscripsi : Deinde, cum duo prae 
 caeteris majjni nominis episcopi suum jus contra niinis- 
 tros quosdam primarios assererent, ratus de iis rebus, 
 qaas amore solo Teritatis, et ex officii Christiani ratione 
 didiceram, baud pejus me dicturum, quam qui de suo 
 quaestu et injustissimo dominatu contendebant, ad 
 hunc, libris duobus, quorum unus de episcopatu pne- 
 latico, alter de ratione disciplinae ecclesiasticee inscri- 
 bitur, ad ilium, scriptis quibusdam animadversionibus, 
 et raox apologfia, respondi ; et rainistris facundiam ho- 
 rainis, ut ferebatur, aegr^ sustinentibus, suppetias tuli ; 
 et ab eo tempore, si quid postea responderent, interfui. 
 Ciim petiti omnium telis episcopi tandem cecidissent, 
 otiumque ab illis esset, verti alio cogitationes ; si qua 
 in re possem libertatis verse ac solidoe rationem promo- 
 ▼ere ; quae non foris, sed intus quaerenda, non pug- 
 nando, sed vitam recte instituendo recteque adminis- 
 trando, adipiscenda potissimum est. Cum itaque tres 
 umnino animadverterem libertatis esse species, quae 
 nisi adsint, vita ulla transigi commode vix possit, ec- 
 clehiasticam, domesticam seu privatam, atque civilem, 
 deque prima jam scripsissem, deque tertia magistratuni 
 sedulo agere viderem, quae reliqua secunda erat, do- 
 mesticam mihi desumpsi ; ea quoque tripartita, cum 
 videretur esse, si res conjugalis, si liberorum institutio 
 rect^ se haberet, si denique libere philosophandi potestas 
 esset, de conjugio non solum rite contrahendo, veriim 
 etiam, si necesse esset, dissolvendo, quid sentirem ex- 
 plicui ; idque ex divina lege quam Christus non sus- 
 tulit, nedum aliam, toto lege Mosai'ca graviorem, civil- 
 iter sanxit; quid item de excepta solum foniicatione 
 sentiendum sit, et meam aliorumque sententiam ex- 
 prompsi, et clarissimus vir Seldenus noster, in uxore 
 Hebraea plus minus biennio post edita, ubcrius demon- 
 stravit. Frustra enim libertatem in comitiis et foro 
 crepat, qui domi, servitutem viro indignissimam, infe- 
 riori etiam servit; ea igitur de re aliquot libros edidi ; 
 eo prsesertira tempore cum vir saepe et conjux hostes 
 inter se acerrimi, hie domi cum libcris, ilia in castris 
 hostium materf'amilias versaretur, viro csedem atque 
 ))emiciem minitans. Institutiunem deinde liberorum 
 nno opusculo breviiis quidem tractabam ; srd quod satis 
 arbitrabar iis fore, qui ad eam rem, qua par esset dili- 
 gentia, incumbercnt ; qua quidera re, nihil ad imbu- 
 
 endas, unde vera atque interna oritur libertas, virtute 
 hominum mentes, nihil ad rcmpublicam bene gerendam, 
 et quam diutissime consorvandam majus momentum 
 ])otest afferre. Postremo de typographia liberaiida, ne 
 veri et falsi arbitriuni, quid edendum, quid premcndum, 
 penes paucos esset, eosque fere indoctos, et vulgaris 
 judicii homines, librorum inspectioni prtepositos, per 
 quos nemini fere quicquam quod supra vulgus sapiat, 
 in luccm emittere, aut licet aut libct, ad justae orationis 
 modum Areopagiticam scripsi. Civilem, quae pos- 
 trema species restabat, non attigeram ; quam, magis- 
 tratui satis curae esse cernebam : Neque de jure regio 
 quicquam a me scriptum est, donee rex hostis a senatu 
 judicatus, belloque victus, causam captivus apud jn- 
 dicesdiceret, capitisque damnatus est. Tum vero tan- 
 dem, cum presbyteriani quidam ministri, Carolo priiis 
 infestissimi, nunc independentium partes suisantefcrri, 
 et in senatu plus posse indignantes, parlamenti sen- 
 tentiae de rege latae (non facto irati, sed quod ipsorum 
 factio non fecisset) reclamitarcnt, et quantum in ipsis 
 erat, tumultuarenlur, ausi affirmare protestantium doc- 
 trinam, omnesque ecclesias reformatas ab ejusmodi in 
 reges atroci sententia abhorrere, ratus falsitati tam 
 apertae palara eundum obviam esse, ne tum quidem de 
 Carolo quicquam scripsi aut suasi, sed quid in genere 
 contra tyrannos liceret, adductis baud paucis suni- 
 niorum theologorum testimoniis, ostendi ; et insigncni 
 hominum meliora profitentium, sive ignorantiam sivt 
 impudentiam prope concionabundus incessi. Liber iste 
 non nisi post mortem regis prodiit, ad componendos 
 potius hominum animos factus, quam ad statuendum 
 de Carolo quicquam quod non mea, sed magistratuum 
 intererat, et peractum jam tum erat. Hanc intra pri- 
 vatos parietes meam operam nunc ecclesiae, nunc rei- 
 publicae gratis dedi ; mihi vicissim vel haec vel ilia 
 praeter incolumitatem nihil ; bonam certe conscientiam, 
 bonam apud bonos existimationem, et honestam hanc 
 dicendi libertatem facta ipsa reddidere : Commoda alii, 
 alii honores gratis ad se trahebant : Me nemo ambien- 
 tem, nemo per amicos quicquam petentem, curite foribus 
 affixum petitorio vultu, aut minorem conventuum ves- 
 tibulis hserentem nemo me unquam vidit. Domi fere 
 me continebam, meis ipse facultatibus, tametsi hoc 
 civili tunuiltu magna ex parte saepe tetentis, et censum 
 fere iniquius mihi impositum, et vitam utcunque frugi 
 tolerabam. His rebus confectis, cum jam abundd otii 
 existimarem mihi futurum, ad historiani gcntis, ab ul- 
 tima origine repetitam, ad haec usque tempora, si pos- 
 sem, perpetuo filo deducendam me convert! : Quatuor 
 jam libros absolveram, cum ecce nihil tale cogitantem 
 me, Caroli regno in rempublicam redacto, concilium 
 status, quod dicitur, tum primum authoritate parlamenti 
 constitutum, ad se vocat, meaque opera ad res praeser- 
 tim externas uti voluit. Prodiit baud multo post attri- 
 butus regi liber,contraparlamentum invidiosissimd sane 
 scriptus: Huic respondere jussus, Iconi Tconoclasten 
 opposui ; non " regiis manibus insultans," ut insirau- 
 lor, sed reginam veritatem regi Carolo anteponendam 
 arbitratus; immo cum praeviderem hanc calumniam 
 cuivis maledico in promptu fore, ipso exordio, et saepe 
 alias, quoad licuit, a me istam invidiam sum amolitus. 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 721 
 
 Prodiit deinde Salmasius ; cui quis responderet, adeo 
 non diu, quod ait Morus, dispiciebant, ut me in concilio 
 turn etiam prtesentem statim omnes ultru nominarent. 
 Hactenus ad obturandum os tuum, More, et ruendacia 
 redarg'uenda bonorum maxime virorum in gratiam, qui 
 me alias non norint, mei rationem reddidi. Tu igitur, 
 More, tibi dico immunde, ^t;xw0»jri, obmutesce inquam ; 
 quo enim niagis mihi maledixeris, eo me rationes nieas 
 uberius explicare coegeris; ex quo aliud lucrari niliil 
 poteris, quam ut tibi mendaciorum opprobrium adhuc 
 gravins concilies, mihi ad intcgritatis commendationem 
 eo latius viam aperias. Reprehenderam ego Salmasium, 
 quod extraneum se et alienigcnam rebus nostris iramis- 
 cuisset: Tu instas, " ad eos, qui ad Angliam non per- 
 tinent, banc defensionem maxime pertinere." Quid 
 enim ? " Possint," inquis, " Angli existimari studio 
 partium acritis agere ; Gallos vero consentaneum est 
 rei, non hominum, rationem habuisse." Ad hipc eadem 
 quae priiis regero; externum et longinquum, qualis tu 
 es, in alienas res praesertim turbatas, immersurum se 
 neminemnisi corruptum; Salmasium priusdemonstravi 
 mercede conductum ; te constat per Salmasium et Arau- 
 sionenses professoriam cathcdram petiise ; deinde, quod 
 fcedius est, exagitas parlamentum, et subagitas Pon- 
 tiam. Quam autem affers rationem, cur hsec ad exteros 
 potius pcrtincrcnt, deridicula prorsus est; si enim Angli 
 partium studiis feruntur, quid vos aliud, qui illos solos 
 sequimini, quam eorum affecltis duntaxat in vos trans- 
 fertis? Adeo ut, si Anglis illis credendnm in sua causa 
 non est, vobis profeclo sit multo minus ; qui reruni 
 nostrarum nihil intelligitis, aut saltern creditis, nisi 
 quas ab ipsis accepistis, quibus, vestra quoque senten- 
 tia, vix est credendum. Hie rursum eflTundis te in lau- 
 dem magni Salmasii : Magnus sane tibi fuit, quern tu 
 quasi pro lenone habuisti ancillae suse ; laudas tamen; 
 at is te non laudat, immo ante mortem palam est abo- 
 nritiatus, seque ipse millies incusavit, quod Spanhemio 
 gravissimo theologo, de te, quam impius esses, non cre- 
 didisset. Nunc totus in rabiem versus rationi quasi re- 
 nuntias ; " Jamdudum ratione" scilicet " defunctus est 
 Salmasius." Tu clamandi tantum et furendi partes 
 tibi deposcis, et tamen primas in maledicendo etiam 
 tribuis Salmasio ; "non quia verbis stcvit, sed quia 
 Salmasius." Q airfpfioXoyt .' Has nempe argutias 
 morigeranti debemus Pontiae. Hinc clamor tuus 
 argutari atque etiam minurizare didicit ; hinc niini- 
 tabundus quoque, " experiemini," inquis, " aliquando, 
 Aedissimue belluae, quid stjli potuerint." Tene expe- 
 riemur, ancillariole, tene moeche, aut stylum tuum, 
 ancillis tantummodo metuendura ? Cui si quis rapha- 
 num aut mugilem soliim intenderit, actum mehercule 
 proeclare tecum putes, si nate non fissa, et incolumi 
 stylo isto salaci tuo, queas aufugere. " Equidem 
 non adeo sum," inquis, " vacui capitis, ut provinciam 
 a Salmasio susceptara aggrediar:" Quam ille qui- 
 dem sine capite admodum vacuo, nunquam aggres- 
 sus fuisset ; festiv^ tu quidem vacuitate capitis, mag- 
 num Salmasium tibi anteponis. " At regii sanguinis 
 clamorem ad coelum tollere," quod " ineruditi" etiam 
 " debent :" hoc nempe tuum esse ais. Clama, vocife- 
 rare, boa; perg^ bypocritari, sancta verba usurpare, et 
 
 Priape'ia vivere : Exurget, mihi crede, aliquando quera 
 inclaraas toties ultionum Deus ; exurget, teque impri- 
 mis eradicabit, diaboli ministrum, et reformatae eccle- 
 sice infanduni dedecus et luem. Inculpantibus Salmasii 
 maledicenliam quamplurimis, respondes, "Sic cum 
 parricidis monstrorum omnium turpissimis, fuisse agen- 
 dum." Laudo ; telis enim nos instruis : et quo te pacto, 
 tuosque perduelles tractari conveniat, comniodus doces, 
 nosque ipse absolvis. Nunc quando ratione nihil potes, 
 ne audes quidem occupatum ab Salmasio jus omne re- 
 gium, et quicquid est in eo rationis causatus, a con- 
 tumeliis et rabie ad narrationes quasdam miserabiles 
 conversus, expers rationis, institutos ab initio clamores 
 tantum persequeris : quas partim Salmasianas recoxisti, 
 partim ex elencho illo tXtyj^iTw anonymo, qui non pa- 
 tria solum, sed nomine etiam profugit, descriptas inter- 
 polasti : quarum ad praecipua capita, vel in Iconoclaste, 
 vel in Salmasianis ita jam respondi, ut citra modum 
 historise, responderi amplius posse non putem. Sem- 
 perne ego ut identidem eandem orbitam teram, et ad 
 balatronis cujusque stridorem dicta toties cogar iterare? 
 non faciam; neque mea sic abutar vel opera vel otio. 
 Si quis conductitios ejulatus, et compositos venalissimi 
 hominis ploratus, si quis declamatiunculas, quas etiam 
 ancillaris concubitus, adulterinas edixit et spurias, Mo- 
 rilli nothi gemellas, fide satis locupletes, arbitraturesse, 
 ad me quod attinet, nihil quidem moror, quo minus 
 ita existimet; neque enim est ut ab ejusmodi credulo 
 ac temerario metuendum nobis quicquam sit : attingam 
 tamen pauca, multorura instar, ex quibus tarn quis 
 ipse, quam quid dicat, et quid de reliquo judicandum 
 sit, summatim intelligelis. Postquam de camera ple- 
 bis et camera procerum ad unam redigenda, multa 
 exoticus deblateravit (quod postulatum nemo sanus 
 reprehenderet) " ut sequalitate," inquit, " in rem- 
 publicam invecta, ad eandem in ecclesiam introdu- 
 cendara procederetur; tunc enim adhuc stabant epis- 
 copi : hie nisi sit purus putus anabaptismus, nihil 
 video." Quis hoc a. theologo et ministro Gallico spe- 
 rasset unquam ? san^ qui anabaptismus quid sit, nisi 
 hoc sit, non videt, eum ego crediderim baud magis vi- 
 dere quid sit baptismus. Sed si res propriis vocabulis 
 appellaremalimus, aequalitas in republica non est ana- 
 baptismus, sed democratia, longe antiquior : in ecclesia 
 praesertim constituta, est disciplina apostolica. At 
 enim "stabant episcopi." Fatemur, stabant etGenevse; 
 cum ilia civitas et episcopum et eundem legitimum 
 principem religionis causa expulit; quod illis laudi, 
 cur id nobis probro ducitur? scio quid tibi vis, More, 
 Genevensium suffragia ultum is; quibus dimissus cum 
 ignominia, an ejectus ex ilia ecclesia fueris, in dubio 
 est. Te ergo cum Salmasio tuo ab evangelico hoc in- 
 stituto descivisse, et ad episcopos transfugisse, si modo 
 refert quo tu transfugeris, apparet. " Deinde ad minis- 
 trorum," inquis, " nostratium tequalitatem respublica 
 transiit, ut palam sit eundem spiritum tunc viguisse 
 qui octavo demum anno nefando regis parricidio rem 
 peregit." Ergo idem ut videtur spiritus et ministros 
 constituit vestrates, et parricidium peregit : Perge ut 
 occepisti, quas par est apostatam, eructare insanias. 
 " Non plures," inquis, " tribus libellis supplicibus con- 
 
7-22 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGLICANO. 
 
 fecerunt, qui in regem animadvert! postulabant." Quod 
 notuni est, et ipse memini falsissimum esse. San^ qui 
 has res apud nos memorite mandarunt, non tres tantum- 
 iQodo libcllos istiusmodi, sed multos ex diversis Ann^liae 
 proTinciis, cxercitusque leg'innibus unius fere niciisis 
 spatio, tres uno die allatos fuisse memorant. Vides 
 quanta cum gfravitate hac de re deliberavcrit senatus, 
 cujus cunctationem populus lenitatis nimiac suspectam 
 tot supplieibus libellis eximendam putavit. Quot reris 
 millia hominum fuisse idem sentientium, qui senatum 
 ad id horlari, quod jam turn serio ag'itabat, vel impor- 
 tunum existimarent vel supervacaneum ? quorum ex 
 namero et ipse fui, qui tamen quid voluerim obscurum 
 non est. Quid si conticuissent omnes rei magnitudine 
 perculsi, eone minus babuisset senatus in re tanta 
 quod statueret, expectandusne populi nutus erat, ex 
 quo tantorum exitus consiliorum penderet ? enimvero 
 supremum gentis concilium, ab unirerso populo ea 
 mente adhibitum, ut impotentem regis dominatum 
 coerceret, posteaquam efferatum et repugnantem bello 
 cepisset, si recurrere ad jussa populi deberet, velit ju- 
 bcatne de captivo boste supplicium sumi, profectd qui 
 rempublicam fortissime recuperassent, quid aliud fecisse 
 viderenter quam in laqueos (yranni a populo, si fors ita 
 ferret, absoluti sese praecipites dedisse ? aut si accepta 
 maximis de rebus decemcndi sumnia potestate, de iis 
 quae prsesertim vulgi captum superant, non dico ad 
 populum (nam cum bac potestate ipsi populus jam 
 sunt) sed ad multitudinem rursus referre cogerentur, 
 quae, imperitiae sute conscia, ad eos prius omnia retule- 
 rat, quis ultro citroque referendi finis esset? quis tan- 
 dem in hoc Euripo consistendi locus? quod firma- 
 mentum inter libellos istiusmodi tot capitum levissimo- 
 rum, quse salus quassatis rebus hominum foret? quid 
 si restituendum regno Carolum postiilassent .' cujus- 
 modi libellos extitisse aliquot non supplices sed minaces 
 fatendum est seditiosorum hominum, quorum nunc 
 odium, nunc miseratio aeque stulta aut raalitiosa esse 
 solebat; borumne ratio habenda fuit? qui " ut cum 
 rege colloquium institueretur, ingenti," inquis, " nu- 
 mero pagis relictis ad parlamenti fores accurrebant; 
 quorum senatores, immisso milite, plurimos trucida- 
 runt." Et Surricnses dicis paganos, qui nescio alio- 
 rumne malitia, agrestes ipsi, an sua improbitate impulsi, 
 cum libello supplice bene poti, et comessabundi potiiis, 
 quam aliquid petituri, per urbem ibant; mox curiae 
 fores, facto agmine, ferociter obsederunt; collocatos ibi 
 milites stationibus deturbarunt, unum ad ipsas curiu; 
 fores occiderunt, priusquarn illos vel dicto vel facto 
 quisqiiara lacessisset; inde merito pulsi ac mal^ mul- 
 tati, baud ultra duos tresve occisi, vinolentiam potiiis 
 quam ** libertatem spirantes." Passim concedis " po- 
 tiores fuisse indcpendentium partes, non numero, sed 
 consilio et virtute militari." Unde ego et jure et 
 merito superiores quoque fuisse contendo: nihil enim 
 est natura; convenientius, nihil justius, nihil humano 
 generi utilius aut melius, quam ut minor majori, non 
 Humerus numero, sed virtuti, consilium consilio cedat; 
 qui prudeulia, qui rerum usu, industria, atque virtute 
 pollent, hi mea quidem seutentia, quantumvis pauci, 
 quantovis numero, plures erunt, et suffragiis ubiquc 
 
 potiores. Multa sparsim inscris de " Cromuello,"quic 
 cujusmodi sint infra videbimus; de reliquis responsum 
 jampridcm Salmasio est. Judicium quoque regis non 
 proetcrniittis, quamvis et illud a mago tuo rhetore 
 miscrabiliter sit declamatum. Proceres, id est, regis 
 purpuratos, ct ministros fere aulicos, a judicando rege 
 ais abhorruisse : Nos id parum referre, altcro libro 
 ostendimus. " Deinde curiarum judices erasos ; quippe 
 qui responderant esse contra Angliee leges, regem judicio 
 sisti." Nescio quid tunc responderint, scio quid jam 
 approbent atque defendant: non est novum, judices, 
 quos minimi decet,meticulosos esse. " Praeficitur ergo 
 sordidae et sceleratoe curiae par praeses, obscurissimus 
 et petulantissimus nebulo." Te vero tot vitiis et scelc- 
 ribus obstrictum, immo meram spurcitiem, merum sce- 
 lus, usque adeo obduxisse menti et sensibus callum, 
 nisi tua mens potius tota callus est, ut in Deum atheus, 
 et sacrorum contaminator, in homines inhumanus, cu- 
 jusque optimi calumniator esse ausis, quid aliud est 
 esse quam germanum Iscariotam atque diaboluni ? 
 Quamvis autem tua vituperatio laus summa sit, tamen 
 prsestantissirao viro cui oblatras, necnon amico niihi 
 semper plurimum colendo, nequaquam deero ; quomi- 
 nus ab improbissimis perfugarum et Mororum linguis, 
 quas, nisi causa reipublicae nunquam sensisset, vin- 
 dicera. Est Joannes Bradscianus, (quod nomen libertas 
 ipsa, quacunque gentium colitur, memoriae sempiternae 
 celebrandum commendavit,) nobili familia, ut satis 
 notum est, ortus; unde patriis Icgibus addiscendis, 
 primam omnem aetatem sedulo impendit; dein consul- 
 tissimus causarum ac disertissimus patronus, libertatis 
 et populi vindex acerrimus, et magnis reipublicar» 
 negotiis est adhibitus, et incorrupt! judicis munere ali- 
 quoties perfunctus : Tandem uti regis judicio praesiderc 
 vellet, a senatu rogatus, provinciam sane periculosissi- 
 mam non recusavit. Attulerat enim ad legum scieii- 
 tiam ingenium liberale, animum excelsum, mores in- 
 tegros ac nemini obnoxios; unde illud munus omni 
 prope exemplo majus ac formidabilius, tot sicariorum 
 pugionibus ac minis petitus, ita constanter, ita graviter, 
 tanta aninii cum praesentia ac diguitate gessit atque 
 implevit, ut ad hoc ipsum opus, quod jam olim Deus 
 edendum in hoc populo mirabili providentia decreverat, 
 ab ipso Numine designatus atque factus videretur ; et 
 tyrannicidarum omnium gloriam tantum superaverit, 
 quanto est humanius, quanto justius, ac majestate ple- 
 nius, tyrannum judicare, quam injudicatum occiderc. 
 Alioqui nee tristis, nee severus, sed cumis ac placidus, 
 personam tamen quam suscepittantam,H>qualis ubiquc 
 sibi, ac veluti consul non unius anni, pari gravitate 
 sustinet : ut non de tribunal! tantum, sed per omnem 
 vitam judicare regem diceres. In consiliis ac laboribus 
 publicis maxime omnium indefessus, niultisque par 
 unus ; domi, si quis alius, pro suis facultatibus bospi- 
 talis ac splendidus, amicus longc fidelissimus, atque in 
 omni fortu!ia certissimus, bene mercntes quoscunque 
 nemo citiiis aut libentiiis agnoscit, neque majore be- 
 nevolentia prosequitur; nunc pios, nunc doctos, aut 
 quavis ingenii laude cognitos, nunc militares etiam et 
 fortes vires ad inopiam redactos suis opibus siiblevat; 
 iis si nou indigent, colit tamen libens atque amplec- 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 723 
 
 titur; alienas laudes perpeluo praedicare, suas tacere, 
 solitus ; hostium quoque civilium,si quis ad sanitatem 
 rcdiit, quod experti sunt plurimi, nemo ig-noscentior. 
 Quod si causa oppressi cujuspiam defendenda palam, 
 si gratia aut vis potentiorum oppugnanda, si in quen- 
 quam bene meritum, ingratitude publica objurganda 
 sit, turn quidem in illo viro, vel facundiam vel constan- 
 tiam nemo desideret, non patronum, non amicum, vel 
 idoneum magis et intrepidum, vel disertiorem alium 
 quisquam sibi optet; habet, quem non minoe dimovere 
 recto, non mctus aut munera proposito bono atque 
 officio, vultusque ac mentis firmissimo statu dejicere 
 valeant. Quibus virtutibus, et plerisque merito charus, 
 et inimicissimis non contemnendus, gestarura egregie 
 rerum in republica laudem, dirupto te. More, tuique 
 similibus, apud omnes tum exteros turn posteros, in 
 omne oevum propagabit. Sed pergendum: Rex capite 
 damnatus est : " contra banc vesaniam Londini pulpita 
 fere omnia detonare." Ligneo isto tonitru baud niul- 
 tum terres; istos Salmoneas nihil vereniur, qui fic- 
 titium illud fulmen et arrogatum sibi, aliquando luent; 
 graves profecto autbores et sinceri, qui paulo ante ex 
 iisdera pulpitis contra pluralistas et nonresidentes stre- 
 pitu tequ6 horribili detonabant ; paulo post, raptis hie 
 sibi ternis, ille quaternis praelatorum sacerdotiis, quos 
 tonando abegcrant, atque inde nonresidentes necessario 
 facti, eodem ipsi criminc tenebantur in quod detona- 
 bant, etsui quisque tonitrus bidental factus est: neque 
 ullus adhuc pudor; nunc in vindicaudis sibi decimis 
 toti sunt; et sane si deciinarura tanta sitis est, censeo 
 affatim decimandus : non terrae fructus tantiim, sed et 
 maris fluctus sibi habeant decumanos. Jidem primo 
 helium suadebant in regem, ut in hostem exitio de- 
 votuni ; mox capto hosti, et imputatae a semetipsis 
 toties caedis ac sanguinis effusi damnato, parci volebant 
 ulpote regi. Ita in pulpitis tanquam in taberna qua- 
 dam meritoria, quae volunt mercimonia, quae volunt 
 scruta, vendunt popello; et quod miserius est, quae jam 
 vendidere, quoties volunt reposcunt. At " Scoti regem 
 sibi reddi flagitabant, commemorant senatus promissa 
 quando Anglis regem tradiderant." Atqui ego vel 
 Scotos etiam fatentes habeo, nulla omnino promissa 
 ])ublica intercessisse, cum rex traderetur; et turpe sane 
 I'uisset Anglis, regem suum a Scotis in Anglia conduc- 
 titiis, reddendum non fuisse nisi per conditioncs : quid? 
 quod ipsa parlamenti responsio ad Scotorum cartulas 
 id. Mart. 1647, edita, ullam hac de re interpositam ab 
 se fidem, quo pacto rex tractandus esset, dilucide ne- 
 gat; indignum quippe censuisse, non nisi ea lege sua 
 jura obtineri a Scotis potuisse. Attamen " regem 
 reddi sibi flagitabant." Mites, credo, homines frange- 
 hantur animo, desiderium sui regis ferre diutius non 
 poterant : imnio vero iidem illi, cum ab initio horum in 
 Britannia motuum, de jure regio baud scmel in parla- 
 mento retulissent, essetque ab omnibus assensum, oh 
 ires maxime causas regem privari regno posse, si ty- 
 rannus existat, si fundum regium alienet, si suos deserat, 
 circa annum 1645. Parlamento Perthae babito sen- 
 tentias rogare coeperunt; sitne rex, quem Sanctis infes- 
 tum esse constet, conimunione ecclesiae interdicendus ? 
 veriim antequam ea de re quicquam decerneretur, Mon- 
 3 A 
 
 trossius ad earn urbem cum copiis accedensconventuia 
 disturbavit. Iidem, in suo quodara ad Cromuelluni 
 iir.peratorem responso. An. 1650, fatentur punitum jure 
 regem, juris tantummodo formam fuisse vitiosam, eo 
 quod ipsi in illius judicii consortium non vocarentur. 
 Hoc ergo facinus sine illis atrox, cum illis egregium 
 fuisset, ex eorum quippe nutu fas atque nefas pendebat, 
 justiim atque injustum definiendum erat: quid isti,ob- 
 secro, rege sibi reddito leuius in eum statuissent ? At 
 " Delegati Scotici a senatu Anglico responsuni hoc 
 prius tulerant, nolle se regni Anglicani formam iramu- 
 tare, postea tamen respondere se tunc noluissc, nunc 
 velle, prout salus roipublicse postularet." Et recte 
 quidem responderunt : quid tu hinc ? " haec strOpha," 
 inquis, " omnia fcedera, commercium, ipsumque sensum 
 communem evertit." Tuum quidem evcrtit, qui nescis 
 inter libera promissa, et pactam foederis fidem quid in- 
 ters! t : Angli de forma reipublicae suae futura, cujus 
 rationem Scotis reddere necesse non erat, quod tum 
 ipsis videbatur, libere quidem respondent; nunc salus 
 reipublicae aliud suadebat; si fidem, si jusjurandum 
 populo datum violare nollent. Utrum sanctius obli- 
 gare putas, liberumne de forma reipublicae futura 
 datum Scoticis legatis responsum, an necessarium de 
 salute reipublicae procuranda datum suo populo jusju- 
 randum et summam fidem ? Licere autem parlamento 
 vel senatui, prout expedit, consilia mutare, quoniam 
 quicquid nos affirmamus, anabaptisticum tibi est et 
 monstrosaim, malo ex Cicerone audias pro Plancio. 
 ' Stare omnes debemus tanquam in orbe aliquo reipub- 
 ' licae ; qui quoniam verselur, eam deligere partem de- 
 ' bemus, ad quam nos illius utilitas salusque converterit. 
 ' Et statim. Neque enim incoustantis puto, sententiam, 
 ' tanquam aliquod navigium atque cursum, ex reipub- 
 ' licte tempestate raoderari. Ego vero haec didici, haec 
 ' vidi, haec scripta legi, haec de sapientissimis et claris- 
 ' simis viris et in hac republica, et in aliis civilatibus 
 ' monumenta nobis literae prodiderunt, non semper 
 ' easdem sententias, ab iisdem, sed quascunque reipub- 
 ' licae status, inclinatio temporum, ratio concordicC pos- 
 ' tularet, esse defendendas.' Haec Marcus Tullius : 
 sed tu, More, Hortensium mavis; haec illffi setatis 
 qutE civile maxime prudentia floruerunt; quae si se- 
 quuntur anabaptistae, mea quidem sententia sapiunt. 
 Quam multa alia possem proferre, quae a miuistercuiis 
 hisce et suo Salmasio, si res non verba spectemus, plane 
 indocto, pro anabaptisticis damiiantur. At " nihilo," 
 inquis, " plus potuerant potentissimi Belgii foederati 
 ordines, qui per oratores suos et prece et pretio oblato 
 strenue allaborarunt sacrum regis caput redimere." 
 Velle profecto justitiam sic redimere, idem erat atque 
 regem salvum nolle : verum didicerunt, n(m omnes 
 esse mercatores; non adeo vendacem esse senatum 
 Anglicanum. Quod autem ad judicium regis, " ut 
 plurima," inquis, " Christo similia Carolus pateretur, 
 milites in eum ingeminant ludibria." Plura quidem 
 passus est similia Christus maleficis, quam Carolus 
 Christo ; et multa istiusmodi jactabantur vulgo ab iis 
 quibus ad invidiam facti majorem excitandam, quidvis 
 fingere aut fictum referre studium erat : fac tamen 
 gregarios milites iiisolentius se gessisse ; non id continue 
 
724 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 ill causam est conferendiiin. '' Mactatum vero esse 
 (]uempiain ad pedes regis prtetereuntis apprecanteni ut 
 Deus ejus misercretur," iicc antra aiidivi iinquam, nee 
 conveiiirc quenquam adliuc potiii qui audivissct: quin 
 iuinio tribtinuin ipsiini, qui toto illius jndicii tempore 
 custodiis praefuit, regisque a latere vix discessit, inter- 
 rogandum hac de re euravi: is denique nee audisse se 
 hoc antea, et pro certo scire faisissiinum id esse, con- 
 stanter asseverabat. Ex quo intelligi potest tuariim 
 narrationum fides, ctiam in reliquis quam firma sit. 
 Nam in bcnevolentia quoque et adoratione, si posses, 
 Carolo post mortem prociiranda, quiim in odio nobis 
 re] iniquissime couflando baud multo veracior inveni- 
 eris. " Auditum," ais, " fuisse regem in fatali pegrnate 
 episcopo Ix)ndinensi ingeminantpm, memento, memen- 
 to." Id regis judices anxios nempe habuit, quid ilia 
 ultimuni iterata vox sibi voluisset ; accersitur, ut ais, 
 episcopus, et illud geminum " memento" quid sibi 
 queesivisset, additis minis, enuutiare jubetur. Is primo 
 (sic enim fingi expediebat) ex composito nimirum deli- 
 cias fecit, et, quasi arcanum quoddam, prodere recusavit. 
 Cum illi vehementius instarent, id quasi nietu sibi ex- 
 pressum, et nolenti extortum, aegre tandem edidit, quod 
 revera quovis pretio divulgatum vellet. " Jusserat 
 me," inquiens, " rex, ut si possem ad filium pervenire, 
 hoc supremum raorientis patris mandatum ad eum per- 
 ferrera, ut regno et potestati suae restitutus, vobis suee 
 necis autboribus ignosceret : hoc me meminisse, rex 
 iteruni atque iterum jussit." O magis, regemne dicam 
 pietatis, an episcopum rimarum plenum ! qui rem tarn 
 secreto in pegmate sute fidei commissam ut effutiret, 
 tam facile expugnari potuit. At 6 taciturne ! jampri- 
 dem Carolus hoc idem inter alia prsecepta filio man- 
 daverat, in ilia Icone Basilica ; quem librum ideo 
 scriptum satis apparet, ut omni cum diligentia nobis 
 vel invitis secretum illud, qua ostentatione siraulatum 
 erat, eadem paulo) post evulgaretur. Sed video plane 
 decrevisse vos Ciirolum quendam absolutissimuni, si 
 non Stuartum hunc, at saltern hjperboreum ali- 
 quem et fabulosum, fucatis quibuslibet coloribus de- 
 pictum, imperitis rerum obtrudere : ita fabellam banc 
 velut acroama quoddam, diverbiis et sententiolis pul- 
 cbre distinctum, nescio quem ethologum imitatus, 
 ad inescandas vulgi aures putid^ concinnasti. Ego 
 ▼ero, at non negaverim interrogatum fortasse obi- 
 ter ab uno vel altero concessorum hac de re episco- 
 pum, ita accersilum, dedita opera vel a concilio vel ab 
 illo judicum collegio, quasi id omnes curassent, aut 
 sollicite queesivissent non comperio. Sed demus inde 
 qu8B vis : dederit in pegmate suprema haec episcopo man- 
 data, ut snsB necis autboribus ignosceretur, perferenda 
 ad filium Carolus : quid tam egregium aut singulare 
 prjeter caeteros eo loci deductos fecit? quotusquisque 
 est raorientium in pegmate, qui peracturus jam vitap; 
 fabulam, cum heec mortalia qu^m vana sint videt, non 
 idem faciat ; et inimicitias, iras, odia, tanquam ex scena 
 quadam jam exiturus, libens non deponat, aut saltern 
 simulet, ut vel inisericordiam, vel innocentiseopinionem 
 BUS in animis hominum relinquat ? Simulasse Ca- 
 rolum, neque unquam ex animo, et sincere mentis pro- 
 posito tale mandatum dedisse filio, " ut suie necis 
 
 autboribus ignosceret," vel si hoc palam aliud taracn 
 clanculum mandasse, argumentis non levibus deraon- 
 strari potest: nam filius, alioqui plus satis patri obse- 
 quens, patris gravissinio atque ultimo prbecepto tam 
 religios^ sibi per episcopum tradito, baud dubie paruis- 
 set: qui autem paruit, cujus vel jussu vel autboritate 
 duo legati nostri, alter in Hollandia, alter in Hispania, 
 et hie ne suspicione quidem ulla rcgite necis reus, trii- 
 cidati sunt ? qui denique baud seniel scripto publico 
 edixit atque omnibus palam fecit, se nolle patris sui 
 interfectoribus ullo pacto veniam concedere ? I lane 
 igitur narratiunculam tuara vide an veram esse velis; 
 quuB quo magis coUaudat patrem, eo magis vituperat 
 filium. Nunc instituti oblitus, non regii sanguinis ad 
 cadum, sed populi senatum clamores ementiris, odio- 
 sissimus post Salmasium in republica aliena pragma- 
 ticus et ardelio, qui tam ftede prsesertim res tuas domi 
 agas. Tuane voce, impurissime, populus pro se utatur, 
 cujus halitum ipsum oris lue venerea foetidum purus 
 omuls aversaretur .'' tu vero perfugarum ac perditorum 
 voces populo attribuis ; et quod agyrta peregrinus ad 
 coronam solet, vilissimorum diintaxat animalium voces 
 imitaris. Quis autem negat ea posse tempora stepius 
 accidere, in quibus civium longe major numerus im- 
 proborum sit ; qui Catilinam vel Antonium, quam sa- 
 niorem senatus partem sequi malint ; neque idcirco 
 boni cives obnili contra, et fortiter facere non debebunt, 
 sui magis officii, quam paucitatis rntionem ducentes : 
 tuam ergo tam bellam pro nostro populo oratiunciilam, 
 ne cbarta omnino pereat, in annales Volusi suadco 
 inseras; nobis rhetorculo tam hircoso atque olido, non 
 est usus. Dehinc injuriarum in ecclesiam postulamur. 
 " Exercitus est omnium heeresewn Lema." Qui non 
 maledicunt, exercitum nostrum ut fortissimum, ita mo- 
 destis.simum ac religiosissimum esse confitentur: aliis 
 in castris ferd potatur, variis libidinibus indulgetur, 
 rapitur, alea luditur, juratur et perjuratur: in bis nos- 
 tris quod datur otii, disquirendee veritati impenditur, 
 sacree scripturae invigilatur; nee quisquam pulcbrius 
 existimat hostem ferire, quam se atque alios ccelestium 
 cognitione rerum erudire, aut bellicam magis quam evan- 
 gelicam militiam exercere. Et sane si proprium belli 
 usum consideramus, quid aliud magis deceat milites? 
 qui ideo constituti sunt atque conscripti, ut essent legum 
 defensores, paludati justitiae satellites, ecclesise propug- 
 natores : quid illis, non ferocius aut truculentius, sed 
 civiiius aut humanius esse oporteat? qui non bellum 
 serere ac metcre, sed pacem et incolumitatem humano 
 generi arare, vero ac proprio fine laborum suorum de- 
 bent. Quod siquos ad hsec prteclara instituta aspirantes 
 vel alienus error, vel sua animi infirmitas transversos 
 abducit, in eos, non ferro steviendum, sed rationibus ac 
 nionitis precibus quoque ad Dcuni fusis enitendum, 
 cujus est solius omnes animo errores dispellere, et coeles- 
 teiii veritatis lucem, cui volet impertire. Htereses 
 quidem, sic vere dictas, nos nullas approbamus, ne 
 omnes quidem toleramus; extirpatas etiara rolumus, 
 sed quibus convenit modis, praeceptis nimirum et sa- 
 niore doctrina, ut in niente sitas, non ferro ac flagris 
 quasi ex corpore evellendas. " Altera," inquis, " par 
 nostra injuria est in temporal!, quod vocant, ccdesiir 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 725 
 
 fundo." Percontare Belgas vel etiam Germanise su- 
 perioris protestantes, numquid ab ecclesiie bonis ab- 
 stinueiint; in quos Csesar Aiistriacus quoties bellum 
 movet, vix alium qugerit belli titulum, quam ut bona 
 ecclesiae restitui jubeat. Verum ilia profecto non 
 ecclesiae, sed ecclesiasticorum duntaxat bona fuere, qui 
 hoc maxim^ sensu clerici, vel etiam holoclerici, ut qui 
 sortem totam invasissent, rectius nominari poterant ; 
 inimo lupi verius plerique eorum, quam aliud quidvis 
 erant dicendi ; luporum autem bona, vel congestas po- 
 tius prsedas majorum ex superstitione partas, quam per 
 tot Sfficula quBBstui babuerunt, in usus transferre belli 
 k semetipsis conflati, nefas non erat, quando aliud non 
 erat reliquum, unde sumptus belli tarn gravis ac diu- 
 turni suppeterent. Atqui " expectabatur, ut episcopis 
 ereptee opes in pastores ecclesiarum erogarentur." Ex- 
 pectabaut, scio, illi, et avebant omnia in se transfundi : 
 nulla enim est vorago tam profunda, quae non expleri 
 citius quam clericorum avaritia possit. Aliis fortasse 
 in locis, baud seque ministris provisum ; nostris jam 
 satis superque bene erat ; oves potiiis appellandi quam 
 pastores, pascuntur magis quam pascunt ; pinguia illis 
 plerumque omnia, ne ingenio quidem excepto; decimis 
 enim saginantur, iraprobato ab aliis omnibus ecclesiis 
 more; Deoque sic diffidunt, ut eas malint per magis- 
 tratum atque per vim suis grcgibus extorquere, quam 
 vel divinae providentitp, vel ecclesiarum beuevolentite 
 et gratitudini debere; atque inter btec tamen et apud 
 discipulos et apud discipulas, tam crebro convivantur, 
 ut quid domiccenium sit, aut domiprandium pene ne- 
 sciant : hinc ituque luxuriant plerique, non egent ; libe- 
 rique eorum et conjuges luxu et lautitiis, cum divitum 
 liberis atque conjugibus certant: banc novis latifundiis 
 adauxisse luxuriam, idem prorsus fuisset, ac si quis 
 novum vcnenum (quam olim pestem sub Constantino 
 vox missa coelitus, deflevit) in ecclesiam infudisset. 
 Proximum est ut dc injuriis in Deum, quarum tres 
 maxim^ nominantur, de fiducia nimirum divinee opis, 
 " de precibus etiam atque jejuniis," reddenda nobis 
 ratio sit. Vcrum ex ore tuo, hominum corruptissime, 
 te redarguo; illudque apostoli abs te prolatura in te 
 retorqueo, Quis es tu qui " alienum servum judicas ?" 
 coram domino nostro sine stemus vel eadamus. Illud 
 iusuper addara Davidis propbetse, cum flens affligo je- 
 junio animam meam, tum boc vertitur in summum 
 probrum mihi. Caetcras bac de re tuas garritioues 
 febriculosas, quas nemo bis legat, minutim persequi si 
 vellem, baud levins profecto ipse peccem. Nee minus 
 aliena sunt quae de successibus prolixe oscitas : Cave 
 tibi, More, et vide, ne post Pontianos sudores, grave- 
 dinem forte contraxeris aut poljpum; metuendum, ne, 
 ut Salmasius ille magnus nuper, thermas refrigeres. 
 Equidem de successu sic paucis respondeo ; causam 
 successu neque probari bonam, neque argui malam : 
 nos causam nostram non ex eventu, sed eventum ex 
 causa judicari postulamus. Jam rationes politicas 
 desumis tibi tractandas, mancipium catbedrarium, 
 immo cathedralitium ; injurias nimirum nostras, in 
 omnes reges ac populos. Quas? nobis enim nihil tale 
 propositum erat ; res nostras tantummodo egimus, ali- 
 orum missas fecimus; siquid ad vicinos ab exemplo 
 
 nostro boni redundavit, baud invidemus; si quid secus 
 non nostra id culpa, sed abutentium evenire credimus. 
 Regis aut populi,te balatronem suarum injuriarum iu- 
 terpretem, quinam tandem constituerunt ? certe oratores 
 eorum ac legates, alii in senatu, ipse in concilio cum 
 audirentur ssepe audivi non solum de suis injuriis nibil 
 querentes, sed amicitiam nostram ac societatem ultro 
 peteutes ; quinetiam regum suorum ac principum no- 
 mine, de rebus nostris nobis gratulantes, etiam bene 
 precantes, pacem ac diuturnitatem, atque eosdem felices 
 successus, in perpetuum exoptantes. Ncn inimicorum 
 has voces, non eorum qui odissent, ut tu praedicas ; aut 
 tu mendacii, quod in te levissimum est, aut reges ipsi 
 fraudum ac nialarum artiura, quod illis inhonestis- 
 simum foret, damnentur necesse est. Veriim scripta 
 nostra objectas confitentium, " dedisse nos exemplum 
 populis omnibus salutare, tyrannis omnibus formidan- 
 dum." Immane crimen profecto narras ; idem fere 
 atque si dixisset quispiam, 
 
 Discite justitiam tnoniti^ et non temnere Dives. 
 
 Numquid dici potuit perniciosius.'' " haec Cromuellius 
 ad Scotos post Dumbarrense praelium scripsit." Et se 
 quidem et ilia nobili victoria digne. " Ejusmodi sesamo 
 et papavere conspersa; sunt infames Miltoni paginoe." 
 Illustrem tu qnidem collegam semper mihi adjungis, 
 et in hoc facinore parem plane facis,*nonnunquam et 
 superiorem ; quo ego nomine cohonestari me maxinie 
 abs te putem, siquid a te bonestum posset proficisci. 
 " CremattE vero," inquis, " sunt istae png-inae a carnifice 
 Parisiensi supremi senatus authoritate." Nequaquara 
 id comperi a senatu factum, sed ab officiario quodam 
 urbico, locotenente civili nescio an incivili, cui clerici 
 quidam, ignavissima animalia, autbores fuere ; tam ex 
 dissito atque longinquo, abdomini suo, quod aliquando 
 precor evenire possit, augurantes. Censes non potuisse 
 nos vicissim Salmasii defensionem regiam cremasse .'' 
 potuissem sane vel ipse a magistratibus nostris hoc 
 facile impetrasse, nisi illam contumeliam contemptu 
 potius ulciscendam existimassem : vos ignem igne pro- 
 perantes extinguere, Herculeum praebuistis rogum, 
 unde clarior exurgerem ; nos consultii^s, defcnsionis 
 regiae frigus calfaciendum non censuimus. Illud miror, 
 tam esse majorum dissimiles factos Tolosates (nam et 
 Tolosse corabustos nos accepimus) ut qua in urbe sub 
 Raimundis comitibus, et libertas et religio defensa 
 olim tam insigniter est, in ea nunc et libertatis et re- 
 ligionis defensio combureretur. " Utinam et Scriptor," 
 inquis. Itane ergastulum ? et ego parem ne reddam 
 tibi salutem, More, tu egregie cavisti ; ut qui nigriori- 
 bus multo ignibus jamdudum pereas : urunt te adul- 
 teria tua, urunt stupra, urunt perjuria, quorum ope 
 desponsatam tibi stupro foeminam perfidus excussisti ; 
 urunt perditissimi furores, qui impulerunt te, ut sacro- 
 sancta munia facinorosus concupisceres, et imperspec- 
 tum Domini corpus incestismanibussacerdospollueres; 
 sanctitatem etiam simulans, in sanctitatis simulatores, 
 dira omnia hoc tuo clamore denunciares; tuumque ex- 
 ecrabile caput, tuamet ipsius damnatum sententia irre- 
 tires : bis tu sceleribus et infamiis totus flagras, his tu 
 flammis furialibus dies atque noctes torreris, dasque 
 
726 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 nobis pceiias quibus frraviores imprecari tibi nullus 
 hostis potest. Me interim coiicremationes vestrie iioii 
 Isditut, uoti tan^uiit, et istis ig'noniitiiis habeo com- 
 plura quee upponam {^rdta meo animo atque juciinda. 
 Una me curia, iinus forte lictor Parisiensis, malarum 
 avium impulsu, conibussit ; at quamplurimi per totam 
 Galliam viri boui atque docti nihilo minus legunt, ap- 
 probant, amplcctuntur ? quamplurimi per immensum 
 Germanite totius tractum, libcrtatis fere domicilium, per 
 ceeteras quoque rcgiones, qudcunque ejus vestig'ia uUa 
 adhuc nianent; quin et ipsa Grtecia, ipsoe Athenae At- 
 ticte, quasi jam redivivee, nobilissimi alumni sui Phi- 
 larce voce, applauserc. Hoc ctiam vere possum dicere, 
 quo primum tempore nostra defensio est edita, et legen- 
 tium stadia incalucre, nullum vel principis vel civitatis 
 legatum in urbe turn fuisse, qui non vel fort^ obvio 
 mihi gratularetur, vel conventum apud se cuperet vel 
 domi inviseret. Tuos vero ncfas sit praeterire manes, 
 Adriane Pauui, qui legatus ad nos summo cum honore 
 missus, Hollandia; decus atque ornamentum, sumraam 
 in me ac singularem benevoleniam tuam, etiamsi vi- 
 dere nunquam continent, multis saepe nuntiis siguifi- 
 candam curasti. Hoc vero etiam stepius recolere me- 
 moria juvat, quod sine Dei propitio numine accidere 
 arbitror nunquam potuisse ; mihi, qui contra reges, ut 
 videbatur, scripseram, majestatem ipsam regiam placide 
 annuisse ; meeeque integritati, necnon sentential, nt 
 veriori, testimonium divino proximum perhibuisse. 
 Quid enim verear hoc dicere, quoties augustissimani 
 fcginam illam, quantis cum laudibus in ore omnium 
 versetur, mecum cogito. Equidem Atheniensem ilium 
 sapientissimum, cui me tamen non confero, ne ipsius 
 quidem Pjthii testimonio, quam me illius judicio 
 omatiorem existimem. Quod si mihi quidem faiec 
 scribere adolescenti contigisset, et oratoribus idem 
 quod poetis liceret, baud dubitassem profecto sortem 
 meam deorum sorti nonnullorum anteferre : quippe 
 illos de forma duntaxat aut de musica deos, humano 
 sub judice, contendisse ; me bominem in certamine 
 longe omnium praeclarissinio, dea judice, superiorem 
 discessisse. Sic me cohonestatum, nemo nisi carnifex 
 ignominiose audeat tractarc, tam qui jusserit, qiiam 
 qui fecerit. Hie vehementer laboras, ut ne facta nos- 
 tra Belgicorum pro libertate facinorum exemplo tueri 
 queamus ; quod a Salmasio quoque frustra laboratum 
 est : cui quod tunc respondi, idem tibi nunc respon- 
 sum volo; Falli qui nos opinatur cujusquam exemplo 
 niti ; Belgarum pro libertate facinora adjuvisse scepius 
 ac fovisse, temulari necesse nunquam habuisse ; siquid 
 pro libertate fortiter faciendum est, authores ipsi 
 nobis snmus, prteire, non sequi alios assueti. Tu 
 veru etiam ad bellum contra nos tressis orator, stul- 
 tissimis argumentis, et te verbcrone dignis, Gallos 
 hortaris : " Nostros," inquis, " legatos excipere Gal- 
 licus spiritns nunquam sustincbit." Sustinuil, quod 
 plus est, suos jam ter et amplius ad nos ultro mittcre : 
 Galli igitur generosi, ut solent ; tu degener et spu- 
 rius, politicanim rationum rudis ac falsas deprchen- 
 dcris. Hinc id agis ut demonstres, " a fcederatis ordi- 
 oibus ex composito rem in longum duci, eosque nobis- 
 cum nee fcedus nee bellum vcllc." Atqui interest pro- 
 
 fecto ipsorum ordinum, non pati consilia sua sic nudari, 
 et, ut ita dicam, vitiari a Genevense perfuga apud se sta- 
 bulante, qui si diutius toleretur, non anciilis niodo, sed 
 consiliis ctiam publicis stuprum vidotur illaturus; cum 
 ipsi fraterna atque sincera omnia pra3 se fcraiit; nunc 
 pacem, quae vota sunt bonorum omnium, perpetuam 
 nobiscum rtdintegraverint. " Jucundum erat," in(|uit, 
 " videre quibus ludibriis, quibus periculis furcifcri illi 
 Icgati," Anglorum scilicet, " quotidie conflictarentur. 
 non modo ab Anglis regiis, Sec. sed maximc omnium 
 Batavis." Nisi exploratum nobis jam diu esset quibii- 
 nam et prioris legati Dorislai cjcdes, et duorum poster 
 acceptoB injuria; referenda} sint, en delatorem, qui hos- 
 pites et altores suos etiam falso deferat : Hunccinc apiul 
 vos, Balavi, non modo venereum in ecclcsia ministrum, 
 sed sanguinarium etiam, nee violandi solum juris omnis 
 hortatorem, sed violati quoque falsum iudicem ac pro- 
 ditorem ali ? 
 
 Ultimus accusationum titulus est " nostra injuria in 
 reformatas ecclesias." At vero qui magis nostra in illas 
 quam illarum in nos? si exemplo instes, certe si aL 
 ipsis Valdensibus et Tolosanis, ad Rupellanam usque 
 famem monunienta repetas, nos omnium ecclesiarum 
 ultimi reperiemur contra tyrannos arma sumpsisse, at 
 primi capite damnasse. Sane quia nobis hoc primis in 
 nianu adhuc fuit: quid illi, si data similis facultas fuis-j 
 set, fuissent facturi, opinor ne ipsos quidem satis nosse.l 
 Equidem in ea sum sententia : contra quem bellum] 
 gerimns, eum, siquis rationis aut judicii usus sit, hostem 
 a nobis judicari; hustem autcm tam iuterficere quam 
 oppuguare eodem semper jure licuisse : Tyrannus igitur 
 cum non noster solum, sed totius prope generis humani 
 publicus hostis sit, eum quo jure armis oppugnari, 
 eodem posse et interfici. Nee vero haec niea unius sen- i 
 tentia est, aut nova ; eandem et aliis olini sive prudentia J 
 sive sensus communis dictavit. Hinc pro Rabirio M.J 
 Tullius : " Si interfici Saturninum nefas fuit, arniaj 
 sumpta esse contra Saturninum sine scelerenon possuntfl 
 si arma jure sumpta coucedis, interfectum jure concedaM 
 necesse est." Plura hac de re et supra dixi, et ssepdl 
 alias, et per se res obscura non est : Ex quibus quid GalH 
 etiam, eadem data occasione fuissent facturi, ipse qucas 
 divinare. Addo et hoc amplius : quicunque armis ty- 
 rannum oppugnant, iidem, quantum in se est, et inter- 
 ficiunt: immo, quicqukl vel sibi vel aliis inepte satis 
 persuadere cupiunt, jam interficere. Sed et doctrina 
 h(ec nobis haud magis quam Gallis, quos tu hoc piaculo 
 cupis eximere, debetur: unde enim Francogallia ilia, 
 nisi ex Gallia, unde Vindicise contra tyrannos.^ qui 
 liber etiam Bezue vulgo tribuitur; unde alii, quorum 
 meminit Thuanus .'' tu tamen, quasi ego solus, " id 
 satagit," inquis, " Miltonus, cujus ego piacularem ve- 
 saniam pro meritis excepissera." Tu excepisses, furci- 
 fer? cujus nefaria flagitia si ecclesia ilia Middelbur- . 
 gensis, te pastore infamis et infelix, ])ro meritis exce- 
 pisset, jamdudum te Satanoe mandasset; si pro meritis 
 excepisset magistratus, jamdudum adulteria patibulo 
 pendens luisses: Et luiturus propediem sane videris; 
 evigilavit enim, ut audio nuper, tua ilia ecclesia Mid- 
 delburgensis, suaeque famn; consuluit, tcque caprimnl- 
 giim pastorcm, immo hircum potius olcntissimum, able- 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 727 
 
 gavit ab se in malam crucem ; liiiic et magistratus 
 Amsterodamensis pulpitum quoqtie interdixit tibi, or- 
 chestram tuam ; tu unique illiid os impiuHcuni eo ex loco 
 ad sumraam omnium bonorum ofFensionem conspici, 
 illam impiam vocem vetuit in sacro publice audiri : re- 
 stat jam tibi sola Graecarum literarum professio ; et 
 haec quoque brevi eripienda, praeter unam illam lite- 
 ram, cujus non professor, sed discipulus mox pensilis 
 merito futurus es. Neque hsec iratus tibi ominor, sed 
 duntaxatjusdico: maledicisenimtantumabestuttalibus 
 offendamur quails tu es, ut tales semper nobis vel ex- 
 optemus; immo divina plane benevolentia fieri arbitre- 
 mur, ut qui nos acerrime clamitarunt, tales potissimum 
 semper extiterint ; qui maledicendo non infamant, sed 
 honestant, sed laudant, non laudando certe maledixis- 
 sent. Sed irruentem modo quid te retinuit tarn fortem 
 lioniuncionem ? " Nisi mihi," inquis, " relijfio fuisset in 
 magni Salmasii provinciam excurrere, cui solida de 
 magno scilicet adversario victoria relinquetur." Siqui- 
 dem et ille et ego nunc magnus tibi videor, eo difficilior 
 provincia, praesertim mortuo, fortassis ero ; de victoria, 
 modo Veritas vincat, parum solicitus. Interim tu clami- 
 tas; " parricidiuiM in doctrinani vertunt, eamque refor- 
 matarum ecclesiarum consensione cupiunt quidem, non 
 audcnt aperto ore defendere; fuit, inquit Miltonus, 
 etiam sumniorum li8Pcsententiatheologorum,quiipsire- 
 formandae ecclesice authorcs fuere." Fuit, inquam, etid 
 fusius docui in eo libro qui nostro idiomate Tenor sive 
 Tenura Regum et Magistratuum inscriptus est, secun- 
 dum cditus, et alibi : nunc actum toties, agendi fasti- 
 dium cepit : illic ex Luthero, Zuinglio, Calvino, 
 Bucero, Martjre, Parseo, citantur ipsa verbatim loca ; 
 ex illo denique Cnoxo, quera " unum," me, " Scotum" 
 ais " innuere, quemque hac in re reformatos omnes, 
 preesertim Gallos, ilia tetate condemnasse." Atqui ille 
 contra, quod ibi narratur,se illam doctrinam nominatim 
 a Calvino, summisque aliis ea tempestate theologis, 
 quibuscum familiariter consueverat, liausisse affirmat : 
 plura etiam illic nostrorum, regnante Maria ct Eliza- 
 betha, sinceriorum theologorum in eandem sentcntiam 
 dcprompta reperies. Tu vero tandem conceptis ad 
 Deum precibus mal^prolixisperoras impius abominan- 
 dis; et os illud adulteruni, obduratus coelo offers: sino 
 te facile, neqiie interpello ; major enim cumulus ad 
 impietatem tuam accedere non potuit. Revertor nunc 
 ad id quod supra pollicitus sum, et objecta Cromuello 
 praecipua crimina quae sunt, in medio hie ponam ; ut 
 sparsa quam fuerint levia possit intelligi, quae collecta 
 nullum pondus in sehabent. "Coram pluribus testibus 
 pronunciavit sibi in animo esse, monarchias omnes 
 evertere, reges omnes exitio dare." Quae tua sit nar- 
 rationum fides, jam aliquoties vidimus ; dixit fortasse 
 tibi perfugarum aliquis Cromuellum ita dixisse ; ex 
 illis multis testibus nullum nominas: quod itaque sine 
 authore maledicis, suopte vitio ruit. Non is est Crom- 
 uellus, quem de suis jam factis ullus unquam vanilo- 
 quuni audierit ; tantum abest ut infecta quae sunt, 
 tamquedifficilia, de iis insolentius quicquam promittere 
 ac minitari consueverit : sane ista tibi qui narrarunt, 
 nisi voluntate atque natura magis quam consilio men- 
 daces cssent, hoc saltem quod ab iugenio ejus alienis- 
 
 simum est non affinxissent. Regibus autem, quos ut 
 sibi caveant frequenter mones, licebit cum saluti pro- 
 spexerint suae, spreto te monitore tarn imperito, non ser- 
 munculos ex trivio arripere, sed rationes se dignas inire, 
 quibus quid sua intersit faciliiis perspexerint. Alterum 
 est crimen persuasisse regi Cromuellum, " ut in insu- 
 1am Vectim clanculum se subduceret." Constat regem 
 Carolum rem suam multis alias rebus, ter fuga perdi- 
 disse ; primiim cum Londino Eboracum fugit, deinde 
 cum ad Scotos in Anglia conductitios, postremo cum ad 
 insulam Vectim. At hujus postremie suasor erat Cro- 
 muellus. Optirae; sed tamen ego regios illos primiim 
 miror, qui Carolum toties affirmare non dubitant fuisse 
 prudentissimum, et eundem simul vix unquam suae 
 spontis; sive apud aniicos sive inimicos, in aula vel in 
 castris, in aliena fere potestate semper fuisse; nunc 
 uxoris, nunc episcoporum, nunc purpuratorum, nunc 
 militum, denique hostium : pejora plerumque consilia, 
 et pejorura ferme sequutum ; Carolo persuadetur, 
 Carolo imponitur, Carolo illuditur, metus incutitur, 
 spes vana osfenditur, velut praeda omnium communis, 
 tarn amicorum quam hostium, agitur et fertur Carolus. 
 Aut haec e scriptis suis tollant, aut sagacitatem Caroli 
 praedicare desistant. Fateor deinde, quamvis prudentia 
 atque consilio praestare pulchrum sit, tamen ubi res- 
 publica factionibus laborat, suis incommodis baud ca- 
 rcre ; et consultissimum quemque eo magis obnoxium 
 calumniis utriusque partis reddere: hoc saepe Cromuello 
 obfuit ; bine presbyteriani, inde hostes quicquid in se 
 durius fieri putant, non id communi senatus consilio, 
 sed Cromuello soli imputant; immo siquid per impru- 
 dentiam ipsi mal^ gerunt, id dolis et fraudibus Cromuelli 
 assignare non erubescunt; culpa oinnis in eum deriva- 
 tur, omuis in eum faba cuditur. Et tamen certissimum 
 est, fugam ad Vectim regis Caroli, absenti turn aliquot 
 milibus passuum Cromuello, tam novum accidisse et 
 inopinatum, quam cuilibet ex senatu tum in urbe ver- 
 santi, quem ut de re inopinatissima sibi recens allata 
 per literas certiorem fecit. Res autcm ita se habuit; 
 exercitiis universi vocibus rex territus, qui eum nullis 
 officiis suis aut pollicitis factum meliorem, ad suppli- 
 cium poscere jam tunc ca«perat, statuit cum duobus 
 tantummodo consciis nocturna fuga sibi consulere : 
 verum fugiendi certior, quam quo fugeret, per comi- 
 tum suorum vel imperitiam vel timiditatem, inops 
 consilii quo se reciperet, Hamundo Vectis insulae 
 prajsidi se ultio dedidit; ea spe, facilem sibi ex ea 
 insula, parato clam navigio, transitum in Galliam aut 
 in Belgium fore. Haec ego de fuga regis in Vec- 
 tim ex iis comperi, quibus rem totam pernoscendi 
 quam proxima facultas erat. Sed et hoc quoque cri- 
 minosum est, quod per Cromuellum, " Angli ingentem 
 de Scotis parti sunt victoriam." Non " parti suut," 
 More, sed sine soloecismo claram sibi pepererunt ; tu 
 vero cogita,quam Scotis cruentum illud praelium fueiit, 
 cujus tu mentionem tantummodo fiicerenequivisti, quin 
 instabile prae metu professorium caput tuum ad Pris- 
 ciani pluteum iiutando allideres. Sed videamus porro 
 quantum flagitium Cromuelli fuerit, Scotos irrum- 
 pentes, imperium sibi in Anglos jam pollicentes, nobilis- 
 simo post multas aetates praelio vicisse. " Inter has 
 
728 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGUCANO, 
 
 turbas, dum Cromuellus cum exercitu abest :" Immo 
 dum bostem in Aug-lite viscera jam projrressuni, jam 
 parlamento ipsi iraminentem Cromuellus, etiam defici- 
 entes Cambros ad fidem reducendo, et obsidione lon^ra 
 defessiis, ut vidit, ut vicit, ut gloriosissime fiidit, prcs- 
 byterianos " taedium Cromuelli ceperat :" Hie verum 
 dicis; dum is communem bostem cum vitse discriminc 
 propulsat, bi militantem pro sese et in acie fortiter di- 
 micantem coufictis criminibus accusant domi; et Hun- 
 tingtonum ceuturionem quendam in ejus caput sub- 
 nrnant. Quis tantoe ingratitudinis focditatcm sine 
 fremitu vel audire possit ? Eorundem instinctu, nequis- 
 simum genus bomuncionum ac petulanlissimum, ty- 
 rones tabemarum maxiroo numero curice fores obsident : 
 senatum, quicquid ipsis videtur (quo quid indignius ?) 
 clamore suo ac minis cogunt decernere: jamque re- 
 ducem a Scotis victorem fortissimum, aut exulantem, 
 aut poenas indignissimas dantcm vidissemus Camillum 
 nostrum ; nisi Fairfaxius imperator, invictissimi legati 
 sui tantum dcdecus perferendum non censuisset ; nisi 
 cunctus exercitus, et is quoque satis ingfrate babitus, 
 tarn atrocia probibuisset. Urbem itaque ingressus, 
 nrbicos nullo negotio repressit ; Scotorum hostium 
 partibus addictos merito senatu movit : pars reliqua, 
 insolentiis tabernariorum jam liberata, colloquium Vec- 
 tense, contra senatus consultum edictumque publicum 
 cum rege initum, rescindit : Huntingtonus auteni ille 
 accusator, impunis et sui juris relictus, tandem poeni- 
 tentia ductus, ipse sua sponte a Cromuello veniam 
 petiit, et a quibus esset subornatus ultro fassus est. 
 Haec fere sunt quae fortissimo patriae liberatori, nisi ad 
 quas supra respondi, crimina objiciuntur; quae quid 
 valeant videtis. Veriim ego tantum virum, deque bac 
 republica tam insignite meritum, si duntaxat nibil mali 
 commisisse defendam, nibil egero; cum praesertim non 
 reipublicee solum, sed et niea quoque inlersit, ut qui 
 eadem infamia tam prope sim conjunctus, quam op- 
 timum eum, atque omni laude dignissimum, gentibus, 
 quoad possum, omnibus atque sseculis demonstrare. 
 Est *' Oliverius Cromuellus" genere nobili atque illustri 
 ortus: nomen republica dim sub regibus bene adminis- 
 trata clarum, religione simul ortbodoxa vel restituta 
 turn primum apud nos vel stabilita clarius : Is matura 
 jam atque iirmata setate, quam et privatus traduxit, 
 nulla re magis quam religionis cultu purioris, et in- 
 tegritate vitee cognitus, domi in occulto creverat; et 
 ad sumnia quaeque tempora fiduciam Deo fretam et 
 ingentem animum tacito pectore aluerat. Parlamento 
 ab rege ultimiim convocato, sui municipii suflTragiis 
 lectus senatorium munus obtinuit; illic rectissimis sen- 
 tentiis consiliisque firmissimis statim innotuit : ubi ad 
 arma deventum est, delata sua opera, equitum turmee 
 praeficitur; sed bonorum virorum concursu, ad ejus 
 signa undique confluentium, auctus copiis, et gestarum 
 rerum mag^itudine et celeritate conficiendi summos 
 fer^ duces brevi superavit. Nee mirum ; sui enim 
 noscendi exercitatissimus miles, quicquid intus bostis 
 crat, spes vanas, metus, cupiditatcs, apud se prius aut 
 deleverat, aut subactasjam habuerat; in se priiis im- 
 perator, sui victor, de se potissimum triumphare didice- 
 rat ; itaque ad externum bostem, quo primum die in 
 
 castra venit, veteranus, et in ilia omni castrensi militia 
 consummatus, accessit. Non est ut in bis possim ora- 
 tionis carceribus, tot urbes captas, tot pra'lia et quideni 
 maxima, in quibus nunquam victus aut fusus, Britan- 
 uicum orbem totum continuis victoriis pcragravit, pro 
 digiiitate rerum exequi ; quoe justte sane bistoria- 
 grande opus, etiterum quasi campum quendam dicendi, 
 et exsequata rebus nairandi spatia desiderant. SufRcit 
 boc unicum singularis et prope divinee virtutis in- 
 dicium, tantam in eo viguisse sive animi vim atque 
 ingenii, sive discipline? non ad militarem modo, sed ad 
 Cbristianam potius normam et sanctimoniam instituttc, 
 ut omnes ad sua castra tanquam ad optimum non mili- 
 taris duntaxat scientite, sed religionis ac pietatis gym- 
 nasium, vel jam bonos et fortes undique attraberet, vel 
 tales, ipsius maxim6 exemplo, efficeret: eosque toto 
 belli, pacis etiam nonnunquam intermediie tempore, per 
 totanimorum et rerum vicissitudines, non largitionibus 
 et militari licentia, sed autboritate et solo stipcndio, 
 adversantibus lic^t multis, in officio contineret et adbuc 
 contineat: qua quidem laude neque Cyro, neque Epa- 
 minondae, neque antiquorum ulli excellentissimo im- 
 peratori laus ulla major attribui solet. Hinc enim 
 exercitum, quo nemo minori spatio majorem aut in- 
 structiorem, sibi comparavit, et per omnia dicto audi- 
 entem, et civibus gratum atque dilectum ; et bostibus, 
 armatis quidem formidolosum, pacatis admirabilem, 
 quorum in agris atque sub tectis ita non gravis, et sine j 
 omni maleficio versabatur, ut cum regiorum suoruml 
 vim, vinolentiam, impietatem, atque libidines, cogita- 
 rent, mutata sorte laeti, non nunc bostes, sed bospites 
 advenisse crederent; praesidium bonis omnibus, ter- 
 rorem malis, virtutis etiam omnis et pietatis hoitatores. 
 Sed neque te fas est praeterire, Fairfaxi, in quo cum; 
 summa fortitudine summam modestiam, summam vitas, 
 sanctitatem, et natura et divinus favor conjunxit: Tui 
 barum in partem laudum evocandus tuo jure ac merito 
 es ; quanquam in illo nunc tuo secessu, quantus olim 
 Litemi Africanus ille Scipio, abdis te quoad potes ; nee 
 bostem solum, sed ambitionem, et quae praestantissimum 
 quemque mortalium vincit, gloriam quoque vicisti ; 
 tuisque virtutibus et praeclare factis, jucundissimum et 
 gloriosissimum per otium frueris, quod est laborum 
 omnium et bumanarum actionum vel maximarum finis; 
 qualique otio cum antiqui heroes, post bella et decora 
 tuis baud majora, fruerentur, qui eos laudare conati 
 sunt poetoe, desperabant se posse alia ratione id quale 
 esset digne describere, nisi eos fabularentur, coelo re- 
 ceptos, deorum epulis accumbere. Veriim te sive vale- 
 tudo, quod maxime crediderim, sive quid aliud retraxit, 
 persuasissimum hoc habeo, nihil te a rationibus reipub- 
 licae divellere potuisse, nisi vidisses quantum libertatis 
 conservatorem, qukm firmum atque fidum Anglicanee 
 rei columen ac munimentura in successore tuo relin- 
 queres. Te enim salvo, Cromuelle, ne Deo quidem 
 satis confidit, qui rebus Anglorum, satis ut salvse sint, 
 metuat ; ciira videat tam favcntem tibi, tam evidenter 
 opitulantem ubique Deum. Verum tibi turn soli dc- 
 certanda alia bcllorum palaestra erat. 
 
 Quid autem multa ? res maximas, qua tu celeritate 
 soles, eadem si possum brevitatc expediam. Amissa 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM. 
 
 729 
 
 Hibernia prtBter unam urbem tola, tu, exercitu trans- 
 niisso, uno statim prselio Hibernicoriim opes fregisti . 
 reliqua indies conficiebas ; cum repeute ad belluni 
 Scoticum revocaris. Hinc contra Scotos irruptionein 
 cum reg'c suo in Angliam parantes, indefessus proficis- 
 ceris ; reg'num illud, quod omnes reg^es nostri octingen- 
 tis annis non poterant, uno circiter anno perdomuisti, 
 et Anglorum ditioni adjecisti ; reliquas eorum copias, 
 validissimas tameu et expeditas, per suramam despera- 
 tionem in Angliam turn fere praesidiis nudatara, inopina 
 impressione facta, Vigornium usque progressas, mag- 
 nisitiueribus assecutus, uno prselio delevisti; captapene 
 tota gentis nobilitate. Hinc alta pax domi : turn te, 
 sed neque turn primum, non minims consiliis, quam belli 
 artibus valere sensimus ; id quotidie in senatu agebas, 
 vel ut cum hoste pacta fides servaretur, vel uti ea, qute 
 ex republica essent, mature decernerentur. Cum videres 
 moras necti, privatoe quemque rei, quam publicse, atten- 
 tionem, populum queri delusura se sua spe, et potentia 
 paucorum circumventum esse, quod ipsi toties moniti 
 nolcbant, eorum dominationi finem imposuisti. Parla- 
 mentum aliud convocatur novum ; concessa iis dun- 
 taxat, quibus par erat, eligcndi potestate ; conveniunt 
 electi; nihil agunt; ciim se invicem dissidiis etalter- 
 cationibus diu defatigasseut, animadvertentes plerique 
 66 rebus tantis exequendis, neque pares esse, neque 
 idoneos, ipsi scse dissolvunt. Deserimur Cromuelle; 
 tu solus superes, ad te reruni summa nostrarum rediit; 
 in te solo consistit; insuperabili tuie virtuti cedimus 
 cuncti, nemine vel obloquente, nisi qui aut lequales in- 
 sequalis ipse bonores sibi quoerit, autdig-niori concessos 
 invidet, aut non intelligit nihil esse in societate homi- 
 num mag^is vel Deo gratura, vel rationi consentaneum, 
 esse in civitate nihil a'quius, nihil utilius, quam potiri 
 rerum dignissimum. Eum te ag-noscunt omncs, Cro- 
 muelle, ea tu civis niaximus et gloriosissimus, dux 
 publici consilii, fortissimorum exercituum imperator, 
 pater patriae gessisti : sic tu spontanea bonorum om- 
 nium et animitus missa voce salutaris : alios titulos 
 te dignos tua facta non norunt, non ferunt, et superbos 
 illos, vulgi licet opinione magnos, merito respuunt. 
 Quid enim est titulus, nisi dcfinitus quidam dignitatis 
 modus? tufe res gestae ciim admirationis, turn certe 
 tituloruni modum omnem excedunt; et velut pyrami- 
 dum apices coelo se condunt, populari titulorum aura 
 excelsiores. Sed quoniam summis etiam virtutibus, qui 
 honos habetur, humano quodam fastigio finiri ac ter- 
 minari, non dignum est, sed tamen expedit, assumpto 
 quodam titulo patris patriae simillimo, non evehi te 
 quidem, sed tot gradibus ex sublimi descendere, et ve- 
 lut in ordinem cogi, publico commodo, et sensisti et 
 sustinuisti ; regium nomen majestate longe niajore 
 aspematus. Et merito quidem : quod enim nomen, 
 privatus sub jug-um mittere, et ad nihilum plane redi- 
 gere potuisti, eo si tantus vir factus caperere, idem 
 pene faceres, atque si gcntem aliquam idololatram Dei 
 veri ope cum subegisses, victos abs te coleres deos. Tu 
 igitur, Cromuelle, magnitudine ilia animi macte esto ; 
 te enim decet : tu patriae liberator, libertatis auctor, cus- 
 tosque idem et conservator, neque graviorem personam, 
 neque augustiorem suscipere potes aliam ; qui non modo 
 
 •j regum res gestas, sed heroum quoque nostrorum fabulas 
 factis exuperasti. Cogita ssepius, quam caram rem, ab 
 qudm cara parente tua, libertatem a patria tibi commen- 
 datam atque concreditam, apud te depositam babes ; quod 
 ab electissimis gentis universse viris, ilia modo expecta- 
 bat, id nunc a te uno expectat, per te uuum consequi 
 sperat. Reverere tantam de te expectationem, spem 
 patriae de te unicam ; reverere vultus et vulnera tot 
 fortium virorum, quotquot, te duce, pro libertate tam 
 strenue decertarunt; manes etiam eorum qui in ipso 
 certamine occubuenint : reverere exterarum quoque 
 civitatum existimationem de nobis atque sermones; 
 quantas res de libertate nostra, tam fortiter parta, de 
 nostra republica, tam gloriose exorta sibi poUiceantur : 
 qu£E si tam cito quasi aborto evanuerit, profecto nihil 
 ceque dedecorosum huic genti, atque pudendum fuerit: 
 teipsum deuique reverere, ut pro qua adipiscenda liber 
 tate, tot terumnas pertulisti, tot pericula adiisti, earn 
 adeptus, violatam per te, aut ulla in parte imminutam 
 aliis, ne sinas esse. Profecto tu ipse liber sine nobis 
 esse non potes ; sic enim natura comparatum est, ut 
 qui aliorum libertatem occupat, suam ipse primus om- 
 nium amittat; seque primum omnium intelligat ser- 
 viri : atque id quidem non injuria. At vero, si patronus 
 ipse libertatis, et quasi tutelaris deus, si is, quo nemo 
 justior, nemo sanctior est habitus, nemo vir melior, 
 quam vindicavit ipse, eam postmodiim iuvaserit, id non 
 ipsi tantum, sed universae virtutis ac pietatis rationi 
 pcmiciosum ac lethalc propemodum sit necesse est : 
 ipsa honestas^ ipsa virtus decoxisse videbitur, religionis 
 angusta fides, existimatio perexigua in posterum erit, 
 quo gravius geiieri humano vulnus, post illud primum, 
 infligi nullum poterit. Onus long^ gravissimum sus- 
 cepisti, quod te penitus explorabit, totum te atque in- 
 timum perscrutabitur atque ostendet, quid tibi animi, 
 quid virium insit, quid pouderis ; vivatne in te vere ilia 
 pietas, fides, justitia, animique moderatio, ob quas evec- 
 tum te prce ctcteris Dei uumiuc ad banc summam dig- 
 nitatem credimus. Tres nationes validissimas consilio 
 regere, populos ab institutis pravis ad meliorem, quam 
 ante hac, frugem ac disciplinam velle perducere, remo- 
 tissimas in partes, sollicitam mentem, cogitationesque 
 immittere, vigilare, praevidere, nullum laborem accu- 
 sare, nulla voluptatum blaudimentanon spernere, divi- 
 tiarum atque potentiae ostentationem fugerc, haec sunt 
 ilia ardua, prae quibus bellum ludus est; haec te venti- 
 labunt atque excutient, haec virum poscunt divino 
 fultura auxilio, divino pene coUoquio monitum atque 
 edoctum. Quae tu, et plura, saepenumero quin tecum 
 reputes atque animo revolvas, non dubito: uti et illud, 
 quibus potissimiim queas modis et ilia maxima perficere, 
 et libertatem salvam nobis reddere et aucliorem. Quod 
 nieo quidem judicio, baud alia ratione rectiiis effeceris, 
 quam si primum quos laborum atque discriminum co- 
 mites babuisti, eosdem, quod facis, conciliorum socios 
 cum primis adhibueris; viros sane et modestissimos, et 
 integerrimos, et fortissimos ; quos tot mortes conspectae, 
 tot strages ante ora editae, non ad crudelitatem, aut 
 duritiem .inimi; sed ad justitiam, et numinis reveren- 
 tiam, et humanae sortis miserationem, ad libertatem 
 dcnique eo acriiis retinendam erudierunt, quo gravio- 
 
730 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA IIK) POPULO ANGLICANO, 
 
 ribus ejus causa, periculis ipsi suum caput objeccrc : 
 Non illi quidem ex colluvione vulgi, aut advenarum, 
 non turba collectitia, sed melioris picrique iiotie cives, 
 gfenere vcl nobili, vel non inlionesto, fortunis vel am- 
 plis, vel inediocribus ; quid si ipsa paupertate aliqui 
 commendatiores ? quos non praeda convocavit, sed 
 difficillima tempora, rebus maxim^ dubiis, Sirpt> ad- 
 versis, ad liberandam tyrannide rempubl. excitaruut; 
 non in tuto aut curia sermones inter se atque senten- 
 tias tantiim, sed manus cum boste conserere paratos. 
 Qiind nisi spes semper in6nitas, atque inanes per- 
 srcjufimir, in quibus tandem raortalium sisti aut 
 lonlidi possit non video, si bis horiimque similibus 
 (Ides non habebitur. Quorum fidelilatis certissimum 
 pi<riius, et indubitatum habcmus, quod pro republica 
 »el mortem oppelere, si ita sors tuiisset, non recusarint; 
 pietatis, quod implorato suppliciter dei auxilio, totiesque 
 ab CO insigniter adjuti, a quo auxilium peterc, eidcm 
 gloriam tribuere omnem rerum prospere gestanim 
 consueverint ; justitiae, quod etiam regem in judicium 
 adduxerint, damnato parci nolucrint : moderationis, 
 quod et earn experti jam diu sumus, et, quam ipsi sibi 
 peperere pacem, si eorundem per injuriam rumpatur, 
 quae mala inde oritura sunt, ipsi primi sint persensuri, 
 ipsi prima vulnera suis corporibus excepturi, deque suis 
 omnibus fortunis atque ornamentis feliciterjam partis 
 rursus dimicaturi ; fortitudiuis denique, quod nulli un- 
 quam libertatem felicius aut fortius recuperaverint; 
 ne arbitremur uUos alios posse diligentiiis conservare. 
 Gestit clarorum virorum nomina comraemorare oratio 
 mea: te primum, Fletuode, quern eg"o abipsis tjrociniis 
 ad hos usque militiae honores, quos nunc obtines a 
 summis proxiraos, humanitate, mansuetudine, beniffni- 
 tate animi eundem novi; hostis fortem et imperterri- 
 tum, sed et mitissimum quoque victorem sensit : Te, 
 Lamberte, qui vix modicae dux manus, ducem Hamil- 
 tonum juvenis, totius Scotioe juventutis flore ac robore 
 circumseptum, et progredientem retardasti, et ret.r- 
 datam sustinuisti : Te, Desboroe, te, Hualei, qui atro- 
 cissimas faujus belli pugnas vel audienti raihi vel 
 legenti, inter bostes confertissimos expectati semper 
 occurristis : Te, Overtone, mihi multis abhinc annis, et 
 studiorum similitudine, et morum suavitate, concordia 
 plusquam fraterna conjunctissime ; te Marstonensi 
 prselio illo memorabili, pulso sinistro cornu nostro, re- 
 spcctantes in fuga duces stantem cum luo pedite, et 
 bostium impetus propulsantem inter densas utrinque 
 caedes videre: Scotico deinde bello, ut primum Croniu- 
 elli auspiciis, tuo marte occupata Fifae littora, et pate- 
 factus ultra Sterlinium aditus est, te Scoti occidentales, 
 te Borealcs humanissimum faostem, te Orcades extremae 
 domitorem fatentur. Addam et nonnullos, quos toga 
 celebres et pacis artibus, consiliarios tibi advocasti, vel 
 amicitia vel fama mihi cognitos ; Huitlocbium, Piche- 
 ringum, Striclandium, Sidnamum, atque Sidneium, 
 (quod ego illustrc nomen nostris semper adhtesisse par- 
 tibus loetor) Montacutium, Laurentium, summo ingenio 
 ambos, optimisque artibus expolitos ; aliosque permul- 
 t08 eximiis mentis cives, partim senatorio jampridem 
 munere, partim militari opera insignes. His ct oma- 
 tissimis viris et sprrtaii-^simis civibtis libertatem nos- 
 
 ' tram proculdubio recte commiseris ; immo quibus tutius 
 committi possit aut concredi, baud facile quis dixcrit. 
 Deinde si ecclesiam ecclesiae reliqueris, teque ac magis- 
 tratus eo onere,etdimidio simul et alienissimo, prudeii" 
 levaveris ; nee duas potestates longe diversissim;i 
 civilem et ecclesiasticam,siveris inter se scortari; seque 
 invicem promiscuis ac falsis opibus in speciem quidem 
 firmare re autem vera labefactare ac demum subvertere: 
 si vim omnem ab ecclesia sustuleris; vis autem nun- 
 quam aberit; quandiu pecunia, ecclesioe toxicum, veri- 
 tatis angina, enuntiandi evangelii merces, vi etiam ab 
 nolentibus coacta, erit ; ejeceris ex ecclesia numnuila- 
 rios illos, non columbas sed columbam, sanctum ipsum 
 spiritum, cauponantes. Tum si leges non tot rogaveris 
 novas, quot abrogaveris veteres; sunt enim soppe in 
 republica, qui multas leges ferendi, ut versificatores 
 multa carmina fuudendi, impetigine quadam pruriunt : 
 sed leges quo sunt plures, eo fer^ sunt deteriores; non 
 cautiones sed cautes, tu necessariasduntaxat retinueri>, 
 alias tuleris, non quee bonos cum malis eodem jugo 
 subjiciant, aut quibus, dum improborum fraudes prae- 
 caventur, quod bonis liberum esse debet, vetatur, sod 
 quae in vitia tantum animadvertant, res per se licilas 
 abutentium ob noxam, non prohibeant. Leges enim 
 ad frcenandam maliciam solum sunt comparatoe, virtu- 
 tis libertas formatrix optima atque auctrixest, Deinde 
 si juventutis institutioni ac moribus melius prospexeris, 
 quam est adhuc prospectum, nee dociles juxta atque 
 indociles, gnavos atque ignavos, impensis publicis ali 
 sequum senseris, sed jam doctis, jam bene meritis doc- 
 torum proemia reservaveris. Tum silibere pbilosophari 
 volentibus permiseris, quae babent, sine magistclli cu- 
 juspiam privato examine, suo periculo in lucem pro- 
 ferre : ita enim maxim^ Veritas effloruerit; nee senii- 
 doctorum semper sive censura, sive invidia, sive tenuitas 
 animi, sive superstitio aliorum inventa, omnemque sci- 
 entiam suo modulo metietur, suoque arbitrio nobis ini- 
 pertiverit. Postremo si ipse neque verum neque fal- 
 sum, quicquid id est, audire metueris : eos antem 
 minimi omnium audieris, qui scse liberos esse non 
 credunt, nisi aliis esse liberis, per ipsos non liceat; net 
 studiosius aut violentius quicquam agunt, quam iit 
 fratruni non corporibus modo sed conscientiis quoqii' 
 vincula injiciant; pessimamque omnium tjrannidem, 
 vel pravarum consuetudinum vel opinionum suarum et 
 in rempublicam et in ecclesiam Inducant; tu ab coruni 
 parte semper steteris, qui non suam tantummodo sectam 
 aut factionem, sed omnes eeque cives, eequali jure libe- 
 ros esse in civitate arbitrantur oportere. Hcec si cui 
 satis libertas non est, quae quidem a magistratibus ex- 
 bibcri potest, is mihi ambitionis atque turbarum, quam 
 libertatis ingenuoe studiosior videtur; prtesertim cum 
 agitatus tot factionibus populus, ut post tempestatem, 
 cum fluctus nondum resederunt, statum ilium rerum 
 optabilem atque perfectura, ipse non admittat. 
 
 Nam et vos, 6 cives, quales ipsi sitis ad libertatem 
 vel acquirendam vel retinendam baud parvi interest : 
 nisi libertas vestra ejusmodi sit, quae neque parari ar- 
 mis, neque auferri possit, ea autem sola est, quae pie- 
 tate, justitia, temperantia, vera denique virtute nata. 
 nltas atque inlimas radices auimis vestris egerit, lur' 
 
CONTRA INFAMEM LIBELLUM ANONYMUM, 
 
 731 
 
 deeiit profecto qui vobis istam, quara vi atque armis 
 qutx'sivisse gloiiamini, etiam sine armis cito eiipiat. 
 Multos bellum auxit, quos pax minuit ; si perfuncti 
 bello, pacis stiulia neg-lexeritis, si belliim pax vestra 
 atque libertas, bellum tantunimodo vestra virtus est, 
 vestra summa gloria, iuvenietis, mihi credite, ipsam 
 pacem vobis infestissimam ; pax ipsa vestrum bellum 
 longedifficillimum,etquamputastislibertatem,servitus 
 vestra erit. Nisi per veram atque sinceram in Deum 
 atque homines pietatem, non vanam atque verbosam, 
 scd efficacem et operosam, superstitiones animis, religi- 
 onis verse ac solidse ignoratione ortas, abegeritis, habe- 
 bitis, qui dorso atque cervicibus vcstris, tanquam ju- 
 mentis insidebunt ; qui vos etiam victores bello suam 
 veluti praedam sub basta non bellica nundinabuntur ; 
 et ex ignorantia etsuperstitione vestra, uberem quaestum 
 facient. Nisi avaritiam, ambitionem, luxuriam menti- 
 bus, immo familiis quoque vestris luxum expuleritis, 
 quem tjrannum foris et in acie quterendum credidistis 
 eum domi, cum intus vel duriorem sentietis, immo 
 niulti indies tyranni ex ipsis pra^cordiis vestris intole- 
 randi pullulabunt. Hos vinccte in primis, haec pacis 
 militia est, hae sunt victoriir, difficiles quideni, et in- 
 crucnta?, illis bellicis et cruentis long^ pulchriores ; nisi 
 hie quoque victores eritis, ilium modo in acie hostem 
 atque tyrannum, aut non omnino aut frustra vicistis : 
 nam pccunia; vim maximam in cerarium inferendi ra- 
 tiones posse calidissimas excogitare, pedestres atque 
 iiavales copias impigre posse instrucre, posse cum le- 
 gatis exterorum caut^ agere, societates et foedera perile 
 contrahere, si qui majus atque utilius ac sapientius in 
 republica existimavistis esse, quam incorrupta populo 
 judicia pra^stare, afflictis per injuriam atque oppressis 
 opem ferre.suum cuique jusexpeditum reddere, quanto 
 sitis in errore versati, tum sero nimis perspicietis, cum 
 ilia magna repente vos fefellerint, hcec parva vestro 
 nunc judicio et neglecta advcrsa tum vobis et exitio 
 fuerint. Quin et exercituum et sociorum, quibus con- 
 fiditis, fluxa fides, nisi justitiae sola authoritate retine- 
 atur : et opes atque honores, quos plerique sectantur, 
 facile dominos mutant : ubi virtus, ubi iudustria, et 
 laborum tolerantia plus viget, eo transfugiunt, et igna- 
 vos deserunt. Sic gens gentem urget, aut sanior pars 
 gentis corruptiorem proturbat : sic vos regios dejecistis. 
 Si vos in eadem vitia prolabi, si illos imitari, eadem 
 sequi,easdem inanitates aucupari ceperitis, vos profecto 
 reo-ii istis, vel eisdem adhuc hostibus, vel aliis vicissim 
 opportuni ; qui iisdem ad Deum precibus, eadem pati- 
 entia,integritate,solertia freti,qua vos primo valuistis, 
 depravatos nunc, et in regium luxura atque socordiam 
 prolapses, merito subjugabunt. Turn vero, quod mise- 
 rum est, videbimini, plane quasi Deum vestri poenitu- 
 isset, pervasisse ignem ut fumo pereatis : quantae nunc 
 admirationi, tantte tunc omnibus contemptioni eritis ; 
 hoc solum quod aliis fortasse, non vobis, prodesse in 
 posterum qaeat,salutare documentum relicturi, quantas 
 res vera virtus et pietas efficere potuisset, cum ficta et 
 adumbrata, duntaxat belle simulando, et aggredi tan- 
 tas, et progressus in iis tantos per vos facere valuerit. 
 Non enim, si propter vestram sive imperitiam, sive in- 
 constantiam, sive improbitatem tarn praeolare facta 
 
 male cesserunt, idcirco viris melioribus minus post haec 
 vel licebit vel sperandum erit. Sed liberare vos denuo 
 tam facile corruptos nemo, ne Cromuellus quideni, nee 
 tota, si revivisceret, Brutorum natio liberatorum, aut 
 si velit, possit, aut si possit, velit. Quid enim quis- 
 quam vobis libera suffragia et eligendi quos vultis 
 in senatum potestatem tum assereret, an ut suae quis- 
 que factiones hominis per urbes, aut qui conviviis unc- 
 tius vos, et majoribus poculis per municipia colonos ac 
 rusticos exceperit, eum quantumvis indignum eligere 
 possitis ? ita non prudentia, non authoritas, sed factio 
 et sagina, aut ex tabernis urbicis caupones et insti- 
 tores reipublicae, aut ex pagis bubulcos, et vere pe- 
 cuarios senatores, nobis creaverit. Illis nempe rem- 
 publicam commendaret, quibus vel rem privatam nemo 
 committeret ; illis aerarium et vectigalia qui rem suara 
 turpiter prodegere ? illis publicos reditus, quos depecu- 
 lentur, quos ex publicis privates reddant? an legisla- 
 tores ut illi extemplo gentis univcrsae fiant, qui ipsi 
 quid lex, quid ratio, quid fas aut jus, rectum aut cur- 
 vum, licitum aut illicitum sit, nunquam intellexerint ? 
 qui potestatem omnem in violentia, dignitatem in su- 
 perbia atque fastidio positam existiment ? Qui in senatu 
 nihil prius agant, quam ut amicis prave gratificentur, 
 inimicis memores adversentur? qui propinquos sibi ac 
 necessaries, tributis imperandis, bonis proscribendis, 
 per provincias substituant, homines plerosque viles ac 
 perditos, qui suarum ipsi auctionum sectores, graudem 
 exinde pecuniara cogant, coactam intervertant, rem- 
 publicam fraudent, provincias expilent, se locupletent 
 ad opulentiam atque fastum ex mendicitate hesterna 
 ac sordibus repentini emergant? quis tales ferat servos 
 furaces, dorainorum vicarios ? quis ipsos furum dominos 
 ac patrenos, libertatis ideneos fore custedes crediderit, 
 aut illiusmedi curatoribus reipublicte (quingenti licet 
 consueto numero sint ex municipiis omnibus.hunc in 
 modum electi) pile se factum liberiorem putet, ciim et 
 libertatis ipsi custodes et quibus custoditur, tam pauci 
 tum sint futuri, qui libertate uti atque frui vel sciaut 
 vel digni sint ? Libertate autem indigni, quod omitten- 
 dum postremo non est, erga ipsos primum liberatores 
 ingratissimi fere existunt. Quis nunc talium pro liber- 
 tate pugnare, aut vel minimum adire periculum velit ? 
 non convenit, non cadit in tales esse liberos ; utut li- 
 bertatem strepant atque jactent, servi sunt et domi et 
 foris, nee sentiunt; et ciim senserint tandem, et velut 
 ferocientes equi frsenum indignantes, non verae liberta- 
 tis amore (quam solus vir bonus recte potest appetere) 
 sed superbia et cupiditatibusparvisimpulsi, jugum ex- 
 cutere cenabuntur, etiamsi armis rem saepius tentave- 
 rint, nihil tameu proficient; mutare servitutem fortasse 
 poterunt, exuere non poterunt. Id quod Romanis etiam 
 antiquis luxu jam fractis ac diffluentibus persaepe ac- 
 cidit; recentioribus multo magis ; cum longo post tem- 
 pore Crescentii Nomentani auspiciis, et postea duce 
 Nicolao Eentio, qui se tribunum plebis nominaverat, 
 antiquam renovare gloriam, et rempublicam restituere 
 affectarent. Scitote enim, ne forte stomachemini, aut 
 quemquam praeter vesmetipsos inculpare possitis, sci- 
 tote, quemadmedum esse liberum idem plane est atque 
 esse piura, esse sapientem, esse justum ac temperantem, 
 
732 
 
 DEFENSIO SECUNDA PRO POPULO ANGLICANO. 
 
 suiprovidum, alieni abstinentem, atqiie exinde demum 
 mag'iianiniuni ac furtem, ita his contrarium esse, idem 
 esse atqueesseservum; solitoquc Deijudicio et quasi ta- 
 lione justissinia fit, ut qua gens se regere seque niode- 
 rari iiequit, siiisque ipsa se libidinibus in servitutem 
 tradidit, ea aliis, quibus nollet, dominis tradatur; nee 
 libens modu, sed invita qiioque serviat. Quod etiam 
 et jure et natura ipsa sancitum est, ut qui irapos sui, 
 qui per inopiam mentis aut furorem suas res recte ad- 
 niinistrare nequit, in sua potestate ne sit ; sed tanquam 
 pupillus, alieno dedatur imperio ; nedum ut alienis nc- 
 gotiis, aut reipublicae praeficieudus fit. Qui liberi igitur 
 Tultis permanere, aut sapite imprimis, aut quamprimiim 
 resipiscite : si servire durum est, atque nolitis, rectte 
 rationi obtemperare discite, vestrum esse compotes ; 
 postremo factionibus, odiis, superstitionibus, injuriis, 
 libidinibus ac rapinis invicem abstinete. Id nisi pro 
 virili vestra parte feceritis, neque Deo nequehominibus, 
 lie Testris quidem jam nunc liberatoribus, idonei pote- 
 ritis videri, penes quos libertas et reipublicse guberna- 
 tio, et imperandi aliis, quod tam cupidd vobis arrogatis, 
 potcstasrelinquendasit:cum tutorepotiusaliquorerum- 
 que vestrarum fideli ac forti curatore tanquam pupilla 
 gens, tum quidem indigeatis. Ad me quod attinet, quo- 
 cunque res redierit, quam ego operam meam maxime 
 ex usu reipublicse futuram judicavi, baud gravatim 
 cert^, et ut spero, baud frustra impendi; meaque arma 
 pro libertate, non solum ante fores extuli, sed etiam iis 
 ita late sum usus, ut factorum minime vulgarium jus 
 atque ratio, et apud nostros et apud exteros explicata, 
 
 defensa, atque bonis certe omnibus probata, et ad me-\ 
 orum civium summam laudem, et posteroruni ad cx-l 
 emplum pneclare constet. Si postrema primis non 
 satis responderint, ipsi viderint ; ego quse exiniia, quae 
 excelsa, qute omni laude prope majora fucre, iis testi- 
 monium, prope dixerim monumentuni, perhibui, baud 
 cito interiturum ; et si aliud nihil, cerlii fidem mcam 
 liberavi. Qucmadmodum autem poeta is qui cpicus 
 vocatur, si quis paulo accuratinr, minimeque abnormis 
 est, quem heroem versibus canendum sibi proponit, 
 ejus non vitam oranem, sed unani fere vitae actionem, 
 Achillis puta ad Trojam, vel Ulyssis reditum, vel JEnee& 
 in Itallam adventum omandum sibi sumit, reliquas 
 praetermittit ; ita mibi quoquc vel ad officium, vel ad 
 excusationem satis fuerit, unam saltern popularium 
 meorum heroice rem gestam exornasse ; reliqua proe- 
 tereo, omnia nniversi populi praestare quis possit ? si 
 post tam fortia facinora fcedius dcliqueritis, si quid vo- 
 bis indignum commiseritis, loquetur profecto posteritas, 
 et judicium feret ; jacta strenue fundamenta fuisse, 
 prasclara initia, immo plusquam initia ; sed qui opus 
 exaedificarent, qui fastigium imponerent, non sine 
 commotione quadam animi desiderabit ; tantis incoeptis, 
 tantis virtutibus, non adfuisse perseverantiam dolebitj' 
 ingentera gloriae segetem, et maximarum rerum ge-" 
 rendarum materiam preebitam videbit, sed matcrise 
 defuisse viros : non defuisse qui monere recta, hortari, 
 incitare qui egregie tum facta, tum qui fecissent, con- 
 decorare, et victuris in omne aevum celebrare laudibus 
 potuerit. 
 
AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 ALEXANDRUM MORUM ECCLESIASTEX, 
 
 LIBELLI FAMOSI. CUI TITULUS, " REGII SANGUINIS CLAMOR AD C(ELUM ADVERSUS PARRICIDAS ANGLICANOS.' 
 
 AUTHOREM RECTE DICTUM. 
 
 [rinST PUBMSBID 1654.] 
 
 Nthii. equidem aut antea inauditum, aut inca turn ex- 
 pcftatioiie alienum,ciitn libertatis caiisam primo accepi 
 defendendani, usu ventiiriim iiiihi arbitratus sum, si 
 liberatores Patriae, cives meos, iiiius pree coeteris publice 
 laudassem, tyrannorum jus infinitum atque injurium 
 coarg"uissem, ut iniproborum omnium in me prope 
 unum ferentur odia, atque redundarent. Praividebam 
 efiam tum bellum Tobis, Ang'li, cum hostibus baud 
 diuturnum, niihi cum perfug-is, et eorum mercenariis 
 sempiternum propemodum fore : ut quorum vos tela de 
 manibus eripuissetis, eorum in me maledicta atque con- 
 vitia eo acriiis conjicerentur. In vos ergo furor hos- 
 tium atque impetus deferbuit: mihi, ut videtur, soli 
 hujus belli reliquiae supersunt; contemptissimae qui- 
 dem illa.% sed ut fere sunt infirmoruni impetus anima- 
 liuni, satis infestap. Non perditorum duntaxat civium, 
 sed exterorum etiam ut quisque alienarum rerum plus 
 nimio curiosus, ut quisque importunissimus, corruptis- 
 simusqne est, in me involat, officii tantummodo mei 
 satagentem ; in me omne virus et aculeos dirig^et. Quo 
 fit, ut quod plerique ad commendationem operis, et 
 audientiam sibi faciendam praefari initio solent, se ab 
 exili atque bumili rerum materia ad res dictu gravis- 
 simas atque maximas aspirare, id mihi in praesentia 
 nequaquam concessum sit ; ut cui nunc contra vel in- 
 vito atque nolenti a rebus maximis et gloriosissimis 
 dicendis ad res obscuras, anonymorum latebras, et ad- 
 versarii tui-pissimi per sequenda lustra atque flagitia 
 necessario sit descendendum. Quod etsi parum exor- 
 dienti honorificum et ad reddendos lectorum animos 
 attentiores minus accommodatum esse videatur, habet 
 taraen quod exemplo baud absimili, ciim viris optimis 
 et praestantissimis idem contig'erit, consolari possit : 
 siquidem et AfricanusipseScipio, postquameag'esserat 
 quibus nihil in eo laudis g'enere felicius aut majus po- 
 tuit, inclinatione rerum suarum perpetuaet decresceiite 
 semper suae virtutis materia usus esse videtur : et primo 
 dux quidera summus, atque Hannibale superior, mox 
 
 contra hostem Sjrum et imbellem leg'atus, tribunorum 
 deinde impotentia vexatus, suam tandem communire 
 villam Liternensem contra fures atque latrones coactus 
 est : in hac tamen rerum suarum declivitate atque de- 
 scensu par ipse semper sibi et tequalis dicitur fuisse. 
 Unde eg'o, utque aliis aliunde monitis, quicquid sortis 
 aut provinciae dederit modo Deus, multo licet priore 
 angustius, atque tenuius, id non aspemari erudior. 
 Sed qucmadmodum dux bonus, (quidni enim bonos in 
 omni genere liceat imitari ?) contra hostem qualem- 
 cunque boni ducis officium explebit; vel si hoc niniis 
 invidiosum est, ut sutor bonus, ita enim vir sapiens 
 olim philosophatus est, ex eo quodcunque est ad manum 
 corio calceamentum quam potest optimum conficiet, sic 
 ego ex hoc calceamento (argumentum enim cum insti- 
 tuissem dicere puduit) trito prsesertim jam antea atque 
 dissuto, siquid concinnare quod legentium auribustan- 
 tum non fastidio sit potero, experiar. Parsurus utique 
 omnino huic operae, nisi accusationes mihi nescio quas 
 falsas, et mendacia objecisset adversarius, quam ego 
 maculam aut suspicionem adhaerere mihi minime volo. 
 Quando hoc necessario tollendum mihi onus est, dabit 
 quisque veniam, uti spero, si populo qui non defui pri- 
 dem et reipublicae, mihimet nunc non defuero. 
 
 Quoniam itaque " tuam fidem," More, quam in ipso 
 libelli titulo tu " publicam " vocas, ego publicatam 
 jamdudum et perditam scio, ita ultro statim nobis ob- 
 stringis, ut " siquid eorum in te agTiosceres," qusse de 
 te ego scripserira, " majorem in modum irascerere," ex 
 ore imprimis tuo, quo laqueo solet improbus irretiri 
 semper et capi, judicandum te omnibus atque damnan- 
 dum addico. Cum enim et ex perpetua calumnia,qua 
 meum omne dictum aut factum in deterrimam partem 
 trahis, meque obruere invidia quseris, et ex contumeliis 
 quas semper iniquissimas undiqtie in me arripis jacien- 
 das, ex omnibus denique signis atque indiciis irse 
 facile appareat vehementissime te, quamvis id usque 
 neges, et apertissime irasci, effugere non potes quin 
 
734 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 arg'uarls agnosccrc in tc ca, qute vcl " affinxisse " tibi 
 me ais, vcl in lucem protulisse. 
 
 Du8B sunt res quarum ego te postulabani : altera in- 
 juriarum, altera flagitiorum. Injuriarutn, quod libclli 
 in nos clamosissimi author cxtitisscs; nam quod popu- 
 lumAuglicanum satis loedere exislimarcs te non posse, 
 nisi me exiraie prceter csetcros Itesisses, id ego honori 
 niihi potius, qukm contunielite duco. Flagitia vcro 
 tua commemorare, ut dignum erat, idcirco non grava- 
 bar, ut ostenderem, siquideni is est habendus clamoris 
 autbor, qui cdidit, et alius certe praeler te nemo liacte- 
 nus comparuit, quamcasto ex ore clamor ille prorupisset. 
 Quid tu ad btec ? negas te autborem illius libclli ; et 
 ita scdulo, ita pndixe nejjas, ciim tamcn liber ille nc- 
 quaquam tibi displiccat, ut magis niibi pertimuisse 
 videare, ne ilium librum scripsisse, quam ne ilia in te 
 tot probra admisisse reperiaris; de quibus sic leviter et 
 timide, sed simul versutfe ac veteratorid te purgas, ut 
 nemo non subesse ulcus perspiciat. Hand incallido 
 fortasse consilio ; nam quis unum libellum scripserit, 
 quam quis multa stupra fecerit, difficilior longe est pro- 
 batio ; libellus sine arbitris confici potuit; haec sine 
 sociis, et scelcrum consciis non potuerunt : illic vestigia 
 pene nulla necessario apparent; hie plurima indicia et 
 praecedunt, et una adsunt, et subsequuntur. Itaque, 
 si pemegasses ad te librum ilium pertinere, arbitrabaris 
 cadem opera et fidem meam de reliqua tua vita saltern 
 apud loujrinquos infirmari, et mea credulitate atque in- 
 juria, qua te scilicet temere violassem, tuam magna ex 
 parte levari iufamiam : sin ire inficias de libello non 
 posses, restare tibi hoc solum prievidebas, quo nihil 
 difficilius erat aut acerbius, ut de moribus et flagitiis 
 baud perfunctorie respondendum tibi esset. Verum 
 ego nisi hoc doceo, nisi planum facio aut te authorem 
 illius libclli famosissimi in nos esse, aut te satis causae 
 prsebuisse cur pro authore merito haberi debeas, non 
 recuso quin abs te victus in hac causa cum dedecore 
 atque pudore turpiter discedam ; nullam a me culpam 
 Deque imprudentiee, neque temeritatis, neque maledi- 
 centiae deprecor. 
 
 Prodiit hoc biennio anonymus et probrosus liber, 
 " Regii sanguinis clamor ad coelum adversus Parricidas 
 Anglicanos" inscriptus; in quo libro, ciim Respublica 
 Anglorum tota, turn nominatim "Cromuellus," eo qui- 
 dem tempore nostrorum exercituum imperator, nunc 
 totius reipublicae vir summus, omni verborum contu- 
 nielia laceratur : secundum eum, sic illi anonjmo 
 visum est, maledictorum pars maxima in me conjicitur. 
 Vix suis integer schedulis liber iste in consilio mihi est 
 traditus ; ab eo mox consessu, qui queestionibus tum 
 prtefuit, alter raittitur : significatum quoquc est, ex- 
 pectari a me banc operam reipub. navandam, ut huic 
 importuno clamatori os obturarem. Veriira mc, tum 
 maxime, et infirma simul valetudo, et duorum funerum 
 luctus domesticus, ct defectum jam pcnitus oculorum 
 lumen diversa long^ sollicitudinc urgebat : foris quo- 
 que adversarius ille prior, isti longd prceferendus, im- 
 pendebat ; jamjamque se totis viribus incursurum 
 indies minitabatur: quo derepente mortuo levatum me 
 parte aliqua laboris ratus, et valetudine partim despe- 
 rata, partim restituta, utcunque confirmatus, ne omnino 
 
 vel summorum hominum expectationi deesse,vel onincn 
 inter tot mala abjccissc curam existimationis vidcrt . 
 ut ])rinuim dc isto clamatore anonynio certum aliquiti 
 compericndi facullas data est, homiuem aggrediur. 
 De te, More, dictum hoc volo : qucm ego (quamvis tu 
 nunc, quasi insons omnium atque insciens falso te ac- 
 cusari vocifereris) nefandi illius clamoris vel esse au- 
 thorem, vel esse pro authore baud injuria hubciuluin 
 statuo. Et cur sic statuam nunc audies. Primum 
 ego, neque hoc leve putaveris, faraam communeni. 
 consentientem, constantem sum sequutus; neque eani 
 solum quae populi vox, et ab antiquis Dea credita est. 
 et a nobis hodic vox Dei nuncupatur, sed cam etiaiii. 
 ut legitime tecum agi intelligas, quam jurisperili ali 
 authoribus et probis et ben^ notis exortam, fidem adji- 
 cere testimonio docent. Ver6 hoc dico et religiose, 
 me toto biennio nullum neque poi)ularem, neque pere- 
 grinum convenisse, cum quo de isthoc libello sermoncs 
 mihi fuissent, quin omnes una voce te ejus autborem 
 dici conseutirent, neniinem prseter te alium nomina- 
 rent. Ita universim obtinuit hacc fama, ut te possini 
 ipsum hujus rei testem producere. Recita tuum ips( 
 testimonium. 
 
 Testimonium Mori, pag. 10. 
 
 " Neque vero tacui, si cui forte subiit aliquid ejusmodi 
 " suspicari, sed pa'am et exerte respondi reclamans, con- 
 " questusque sum invito supponi mihi foetuni alicnum, 
 " siquidem illius auctor libri vel ex parte vcl in totam 
 " existiraarer." 
 
 Quamvis hoc falsum sit tacuisse te, aut reclamasse 
 quod plurimi testantur, qui te de eo libro et confitenteni 
 et gloriantem audierunt, dum hoc tufum tibi, aut lucro 
 aut honori credidisti fore, hie tamen vides, quam haec 
 fuerit concepta alte, nee sine causa proculdubio, homi- 
 num opinio, ut ne familiaribus quidem tuis persuadere 
 potueris, quo minus " reclamantem" te et " conqiic- 
 rentem" atque " invitum" illius libri authorem " vel ex 
 parte vel in totum existimarint." Quid si ego, qui te 
 nostris partibus inimicissimum esse, et de republica 
 nostra pessime solere loqui intelligerem, hac plusquam 
 fama nixus, hac hominum non vulgarium comrauui 
 opinione atque consensu adductus, hoc pro certo sump- 
 sissem, te hunc libellum composuisse ? Tu contra quid 
 affers, quamobrem tantae hominum, etiam amicorum 
 tuorum consensioni de inimico nostro facile habere 
 fidem non debuerim ? Factum negas. At quotusquis- 
 que est reorum, qui multis etiam testibus in judicio 
 convictus atque damnatus in ipso supplicii loco, ubi 
 etiam pcena capitali jamjam plcctendus est, perncgarc 
 crimen suum non soleat; immosecrctum quodvis ante- 
 actaR vitae facinus suum proferre in luccm non malit, 
 cujus poenas meritas dare se nunc dicat, quam de illo 
 crimine confiteri de quo sit condemnatus ? Accedii 
 quod is tum negat, ciim sententia jam lata, ciim expe- 
 dita et imminente jam sccuri, nihil juvat neque prodest 
 negare: tu propterea, quod prodest, quod est cur mi- 
 tuas, quod mancndum tibi in iis proviuciis .si fatercn 
 non esset, idcirco negas. Pacis articnlos inter ntis et 
 Fcederatas Proviucias " Latine conditos" vortisse te 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 735 
 
 I dicis. Lejjito itaque nonum,decimum, et undecimum, 
 ' quos tu cum vertebas, solum vertere debuisti. 
 
 Articulus pads nonus. 
 
 Quod neulra dictarum rerump. hostes alterius rei- 
 pub. declaratos vel declarandos, in ejus dominia re- 
 
 i cipiet, iieque eorum alicui in prcedictis locis vel alio 
 quocunque, etiam extra sua dominia auxilium, con- 
 
 j silium, hospitium, coucedet, nee istiusmodi hostibus 
 
 { ullum auxilium, consilium, hospitium, favorem, pecu- 
 
 ' iiias praestari permittet. 
 
 Articulus decimus. 
 
 Quod si altcrutra dictarum rerumpub, aliquem suum 
 fuisse et esse hostem, et in sua dominia receptum esse, 
 aut ibidem commorari per literas suas publicas alteri 
 significaverit, tunc ilia resp. quae hujusmodi literas re- 
 ceperit, intra spatium viginti octo dierum tenebitur 
 dicto hosti niandare, ut extra sua dominia exeat. Et 
 siquis praedictorum hostium intra quindecimum diem 
 non exiverit, singuli raorte et amissione bonorum raul- 
 tabuntur. 
 
 Articulus undecimus. 
 
 Quod nullus hostis publicus reip. Angliae in aliqua 
 oppida,vel alia loca recipietur; neque Domini Ordines 
 Gencrales alicui hujusmodi hosti publico in locis prse- 
 dictis, pecuniis, commeatu, aut alio quocunque modo 
 auxilium, consilium, aut favorem dari permittent. 
 
 Haeccine audis ? quam diligenter, quam severe ab 
 utraque rcpublica tribus continuis articulis cautum at- 
 que provisum sit, nequis alterius hostis ab alterutra 
 hospitio vel tecto recipiatur; qui hostis declaratus vel 
 declarandus ab alterutra sit, ei ut aqua et igni ab altera 
 sit interdicendum, ut morte etiam multandus sit, ni intra 
 dies quindecim post denunciatum sibi discessum sar- 
 cinas collegerit ? Hoeccine, inquam, sine metu ac tre- 
 phdatione audis ? qui si hostis esse aut fuisse deprehen- 
 dlris, nosque ut viros fortes decet, in sententia per- 
 sistemus, neque articulos otiosos ad numerum duntaxat 
 composuirous, ubi tua ilia stipendia, et sacrarum histo- 
 riarum professiones ? cui de tota ilia ditione intra pau- 
 cos dies decedendum erit ; et relictis historiis, ilia vitte 
 tuse fabula nequissima nescio quibus in terris peragenda. 
 Quis enim hostis noster magis publicus est dicendus, 
 quam is, qui libro famosissimo in vulgus edito totam 
 Angliae rempub. inhumanissimis verborum contumeliis 
 proscindit atque dilaniat? latrocinii, ca;dis, perduellio- 
 nis, impietatis, parricidii, immo novo prorsus vocabulo 
 deicidii deniiim incusat ; omnes principes, populos, 
 uationes in nos, tanquam in monstra ac pestes generis 
 bumani ad arnia, quantum in se est, concitat; et quasi 
 ad commune atque sacrum helium nobis inferendum 
 hortatur ? Hunc tu confecisse librum nisi pertinaciter 
 negares, nullus nunc locus consistendi iis in locis tibi 
 esset. Cum igitur tibi tam sit omnino periculosum 
 fateri, cum incolumitatis et commodorum tuorum, ac 
 prope salutis tam vehementer intersit librum istum 
 ejurare, cur tua inimici et improbissimi hominis nega- 
 tio contra famam constantem, immo vero quod plus est, 
 contra tot hominum satis perspicacium, et amicorum 
 
 aliquot tuorum opinionem valere debeat, non video. 
 At enim dicis, non te solum negasse ; testem habere 
 " reverendum antistitem Ottonum," qui clarissimum 
 Duroeum " adraonuerit te illius libri non esse auctorem, 
 sibi probe notum auctorem longe alium." Itaque ex 
 ipsis Duroei literis ostendam, neque probe hoc novisse 
 Ottonum, neque testem omnino esse, vel slquid testatur, 
 ex eo reddi te niulto quam antea suspectiorem. 
 
 Ex Literis Duraei, Haga, April ^| 1654. 
 
 Quod ad responsum Miltoni ad eum librum, cui titu- 
 lus Regii Sanguinis Clamor : equidem a niinistro 
 quodam Midelburgensi, qui Mori perfamiliaris est, 
 certior sum factus, Morum non esse illius libri author- 
 em, sed ministrum quendam Gallicum, quern Morus 
 sub couditione silentii eidem norainavit. 
 
 Et ex alteris Amsterodamo, April ^^. 1654. 
 
 Cum D. Ottono colloquutus sum ; hie quidem acer- 
 rime regiiis est, et Moro perquam intimus; idque mihi 
 dixit, quod superioribus literis ad te scripsi, Morum 
 non esse " Clamoris Regii Sanguinis" authorem. 
 
 Ex quibus hoc in primis nemo non intelligit, Ottono, 
 ut qui partibusregiis addictissimus, nobis inimicissimus, 
 Moro asecretis sit, ne si sua quidem fide quicquam af- 
 ferat, credendum esse. Nunc autem ciim aperte fatea- 
 tur Ottonus, quicquid hac de re sciat, abs te hausisse, 
 tua sola authoritate niti, tuum hoc apud se depositum 
 arcanum esse, non hoc Ottoni testimonium, sed tua 
 adhuc sola negatio est : immo vero potius tua clara 
 confessio dicenda erit, illius te libelli vel componendi 
 vel procurandi cum paucissimis esse conscium ; si non 
 authorem, at certe socium et administrum ; vel tua 
 opera vel tuo consilio librum ilium fuisse editum. 
 Quod si ita est, ut est sane per tuum testem, ex tuoniet- 
 ipsius ore verisimillimum, equidem baud metuo, ne te 
 falso insimulasse dicar, si vel authorem ipsum affirma- 
 verim te, vel eodem numero habuerim. Quis non jam 
 plane perspiciat, quam penitiis ex sinu tuo liber iste 
 prodierit.** quam non de nihilo constantissima de te ista 
 fama invaluerit? veriim adhuc clarius hoc idem statim 
 perspicere cuivis lieebit. Jam enim a fama, quod 
 postmodum apparebit, minime fallaci, ne vocis invidia 
 contra me utaris, ad justam probationem et compertis- 
 simos mihi testes transeo. Accipe in primis literarum 
 partem, quse baud ita multo post Lugduno Batavorum 
 sunt datse, quam libellus iste clamosus HagtB-Comitis 
 est editus. Missse sunt hae literse ad amicum quendam 
 meum ab homine et docto et prudente, et rerum peri- 
 tissimo, mihi satis nolo, et in Hollandia notissimo : in 
 quibus libelli cujusdam famosi facta mentione, haec 
 statim verba subjungit. 
 
 Literae Leidenses, Septemb. 27, stilo novo, 1652. 
 " Nee majoris momenti est iste Mori liber, cui titulus 
 Clamor Regii sanguinis ad Coelum : satisque vendibi- 
 lis fuit, donee author illius vitiata Salmasii uxoris an- 
 cilla, ipse suam existimationem commaculavit." Hee 
 literae, eodem puto mense, integree sunt evulgatfp, 
 inque actis diurnis apud nos quinto quoque die hebdo- 
 madse prodire solitis, palam extant ; ejusque authoritate 
 
736 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 vel qui misit eas, vel qui edidit, fidem faciid suam tu- 
 entnr, meam absolvunt. Heec Iiabui neque levia, 
 neque ullo modo contcmnenda, cur hunc Rcyii Sangui- 
 nis Clamorcm opus tuum esse credidcrim : famam ron- 
 stantetn, non vulgi, sed amptissiinorum iiominum per 
 biennium totum opiuionem atque consensum, literas 
 ▼iri intellig'entissinii atque honestissimi vicina ex urbe 
 missas, quibus an quid certius in re praesertim longin- 
 qua dc inimico et extraneo homine, et unini infaniia 
 jamdudum cooperto, expectandura fuerit aut requiren- 
 dum, baud scio. Age vero ; ne tu me tristem nimis et 
 obstinatum queraris, aliquanto laxiiis te habebo, quo 
 deinde fortius teneam atque ennstringam : quoniam 
 attributum tibi librum clegantulum sic aversaris atque 
 borres, contra biec omnia quae afferre bactenus potui 
 tarn valida, tuam valere singularem et suspectissimam 
 negationem patiar ; remittam tibi hoc totum atque 
 largiar, non esse te bujus libelli, qui Regii Sanguinis 
 Clamor inscribitur, autborem ; et tamen, quod jam for- 
 sitan expectas, non sic abibis. Constat iste liber et 
 coagmentatur prooemiis quibusdam et epilogis, epistola 
 ad Carolum, altera ad lectorem, clauditur carmine, al- 
 tero in Salmasium " Eucharistico," altero in me diffa- 
 matorio: si ullam bujus libri paginam, si vei"siculum 
 forte unicum scripsisse aut contulisse, si edidisse, aut 
 procurasse, aut suasisse, si denique edendo praefuisse, 
 aut vel operse tantillum accommodasse te reperero, 
 quandoquidem nemo alius existit, tu milii solus totius 
 operis reus, et autbor, et clamator eris. Neque vero 
 meam banc severitatem, aut vebementem animum esse 
 dixeris; idem apud omnes fere gentes jure et aequis- 
 simis legibus est comparatum. Quod ab omnibus re- 
 ceptissimum est adducam, jus civile imperatorium. 
 
 Legito Institut. Justiniani, 1. 4, de injuriis, tit. 4. 
 
 Siquis ad infamiam alicujus libellum, aut carmen 
 (aut historiani) scripserit, composuerit, ediderit, dolove 
 malo fecerit, quo quid eorum fieret, &c. Adjiciunt alise 
 leges; " Etiamsi alterius nomine ediderit, vel sine no- 
 mine." Et omnes decernunt eum pro authore haben- 
 dum esse atque plectendnm. Quaero nunc ex te, non 
 utrum Regii Sanguinis Clamorem, sed an prsemissam 
 Clamori epistolam Carolo dicatam, ullamve ejus par- 
 ticulam feceris, scripseris, edideris, edendamve curave- 
 ris .'' qusero an alteram ad lectorem, qusero denique an 
 illud infame carmen condideris, aut vulgandum cura- 
 veris? nihildum ad bsec respondisti; si Clamorem ip- 
 sum tantummodo abdicasses, omnemque ejus particu- 
 1am gnaviter ejiirasses, salva fide evasisse te putabas, 
 nosque probe ludificasse; epistolam videlicet ad Caro- 
 lum filium, aut ad lectorem, carmen etiam iambum, 
 Regii Sanguinis Clamorem non esse. Tu itacjue sic 
 breviter habeto, ne tergiversari in pusteram queas, ant 
 praevaricari ; ne diverticulum ullum, aut latibulum 
 sperare ; ut jam sciant omnes quam non menda.x, sed 
 veriloqua, aut saltem non de nihilo ista fama de te in- 
 crebuerit,tu,inquam, sic habeto: menon fama solum, sed 
 eo testimonio, quo nullum certius esse potest comperisse, 
 te et libelli totius cui Regii Sanguinis Clamor est titulus, 
 cditionem administrasse, et opcram typographicam cor- 
 rexisse, et epistolam illam ad Carolum secundum, 
 
 Vlacci nomen preeferentem, vel solum, vel " cum uno 
 atque altero" composuisse. Td quod tuum ipsum nonicn 
 Alexander Morus excmplis aliquot illius epistolae sub- 
 scriptus, multis ejus rei testibus oculatis clariiis indica- 
 vit, quam tu negare aut expedire te ullo pacto queas. 
 Si dicis, importunitati quorundam amicorum te hoc de- 
 disse, ut epistolee nomen tuum apponeres, non aliunde 
 quam ex ore tuo sic excusanti tibi occurro. Qui solen- 
 niter afiirmas, et eo praesertim loco paginae 39, in quo, 
 ut credatur tibi enixe flagitas " tueri te tua, aliena tunc 
 demum forte curaturum cum cxcussus propriis fueris." 
 Teipso itaque flagitante, credendum non est te noraeu 
 tuum illi epistolse fuisse subscripturum, tua nisi esset : id . 
 quod sequente pagina pen^ confiteris,tuamque ipsefrau-j 
 dem detegis et fallaciam, qua fretus clamoris autborem te ' 
 esse toties negas. " Nam quis non misereatur," inquis, 
 " hallucinationis tuoe cum praefationem topograph© 
 tribuis modo, modo adimis: Clamorem totum in me 
 confers, qui ne particulam quidem ullam ejus extuli." 
 Hoc cui non suboleat .'' cum preefationis seu epistolse 
 simul et Clamoris mentionem facis, Clamoris ne ullam 
 quidem particulam conferri in te sinis ; preefationis 
 nullam respuis, nullam inficiaris: immo quasi errorem 
 meum videris propemodum ridere, quod satis constan- 
 ter non dixerim tuam esse. Si insciente te et prorsus 
 ignaro factum hoc dicis, ut nomen tuum subscribere- 
 tur, primiim credibile non est quenquam esse ausum 
 mitteudiE ad Regem epistolee cum dedicato libro ex- 
 cusae, alienum nomen ipso inconsulto subscribere. 
 Complures deinde suut, qui ex te ipso audierunt, cum 
 tuam esse illam epistolam vel interrogantibus fate- 
 rere, vel ultro ipse prsedicares. Verura tua necne 
 fuerit, non admodum laboro ; tune solus an " cum 
 uno aut altero" earn composueris; quod et hie pag. 41 
 subindicare ludibundus prope videris. Te istius ego 
 non epistolae duntaxat, sed et libelli infamissimi solum 
 prope conscium, te ejusdem editorem aut edendi ad- 
 ministrum, te epistolee ad Carolum aliquam multis 
 exemplaribus divulgatae subscriptorem notissimum, te 
 scriptorem etiam confessum, te ergo omnium legura 
 consensu atque sententia totius operis authorem ipsum 
 tuo ore convictum atque constrictum teneo. Hcec quo 
 dicam testimonio tam remotus, et unde mihi tam liquido 
 constare potuerint, si quteris, non fama, inquam, sola 
 sed partim testibus rcligiosissimis qui coram haec mibi 
 sanctissime asseverarunt, partim literis vel ad alios vel > 
 ad me scriptis. Literarum verba ipsa expromam, scri- 
 bentium nomina non edam; propterea quod in rebus 
 alioqui notissimis necesse non babeo. Hem tibi im- 
 primis ab homine probo, et cui ad banc rem pervesti- 
 gandam baud mediocris facultas fuit, literas Haga 
 Comitis ad me datas. 
 
 Ex Literis Hag. Com. 
 
 Exploratissimum mihi est, Morum ipsum Clamor 
 Regii Sanguinis exemplar nonnullis aliis imprimet 
 dum obtulisse, antequam Vlaccus illud accepisset; ip 
 sum corrigendis operarum erratis praefuisse ; ab ips 
 exemplaria, ut primum quodque absulutum est, com 
 pluribus impertita ac dissipata. 
 
 Viden' ut hoec dilucida atque distincta sint, ut no! 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 737 
 
 diibiis rumoiibus collecta, sed data opera ac dilig-entia 
 liominis iis in locis ac rebus versatissimi, pervestigata 
 
 I et inquisita, certissimis indiciis coniprobata atque com- 
 perta ? Atqui testem, inquies, unum jus omne rejecit : 
 en itaque ex ore duorum testium, quo testimonio neque 
 sacrum, neque civile jus quicquam amplius aut locu- 
 
   pletius desiderat, firmatura a me omne verbum, ut di- 
 citur, et corroboratum habebis. Accipe nunc sis quae 
 
 i vir honestissimus idemque intelligentissimus et certo 
 sibi cognita, et illic testatissima Amsterodamo sic scribit- 
 
 Ex Literis Amsterodamo. 
 
 Certissimum est omnes fere per hRec loca Morumpro 
 
 authore illius libri habuisse, qui " Regii Sanguinis 
 
 Clamor" inscribitur; nam et schedas a praelo exceptas 
 
 ipse correxit, et aliqua exemplo subscriptum dedica- 
 
 toriae nomen Mori prseferebant, cujus et ipse author 
 
 erat; dixit enim ipse amico cuidam meo, se illius epis- 
 
 tolie authorem fuisse : immo nihil certius est, quara 
 
 illam sibi Morum vel attribuisse, vel agnovisse pro sua. 
 
 Verura requiris adhuuc tertium : non id quidem 
 
 cogit lex, attamen iudulget. Esto ; largissima per me 
 
 I lege utere : potest fieri, ut terni opus sint testes : coarc- 
 
 I taUim tibi a me juris quicquam non dices. Addo jam 
 
 tertium. 
 
 Ex alteris literis Haga Comitis. 
 
 Dixit mihi Hagee Comitis vir quidam primarius, 
 habere se Regii Sanguinis Clamorera, cum ipsa Mori 
 epistola. 
 
 Vides quam largiter tibi admetiar: clara enim haec 
 sunt, quis neget? tu tamen scito cla-iora apud me esse, 
 qua? datee fidei causa reticeo, quam quae nunc palam 
 exhibeo. Quod si adhuc tamen vis cumulum, lortassis 
 accedet. Interea nunc libero ac soluto animo ad re- 
 liqua proficiscor; quandoquidem id quod Deum Opt. 
 Max. precatus sum, adeptum me esse spero, ut nemini 
 videar, viro prcesertim bono et intelligenti, incertis 
 rumoribus elatus temere, accusationem contra te falsam 
 instituisse, nee fictis criminibus innocentem, quod que- 
 reris, et immeritum perfudisse, sed tectum atque du- 
 plicem veris redarguisse, latentem atque sectantem 
 tenebras in lucem protraxisse : quod quidem et ex ipsa 
 testimonii claritate perspicuum esse reor, et in ipsis 
 plurimorum bominum non conscientiis modo, sed et 
 serraonibus, ubi haec gesta sunt, clarius elucere. Qui- 
 bus si ego testimonium denuntiare possem, obruerere, 
 niihi crede, multitudine tot testium : quos tamen ali- 
 quaudo sponte sua veritati tam ilhistri, si opus erit, sua 
 nomina palam daturos esse confido. Quod si banc pro- 
 bationis vim atque evidentiani, quara ne judex quidem 
 severissimus repudiasset, tu falsam tamen esse, id quod 
 incredibile est, contendere audebis, erit fortasse cur de 
 tuo queraris atque deplores infortunio, aut iratum tibi 
 atque infensum agnoscas Deum, qui per aliorum vel 
 errorem vel mendacium assignati tibi hujus libelli ilia 
 alia tua dedecora in ecclesia diutius non ferenda, latiiis 
 patefieri, et personam illam ecclesiasticam, quam cir- 
 cumfers impudentissime, detrahi tibi voluerit ; me cur 
 incuses deinceps aut reprehendas non erit, immo nee 
 unquam fuit, velles modo tua in nos commissa recog- 
 
 noscere ; verum ilia mordiciis inficiari nimium tibi ex- 
 pedit, et simul pergis lacessere. Noli igitur, quod jam 
 iterum moneo, me inculpare, si rursus quae nolis nunc 
 vicissim audieris. Sed videamus quid sit. Primum 
 occurrit mihi, necopinato, mea pro Pop. Anglicano De- 
 fensio secunda, typis Vlacci malevoli mendosissim^ ac 
 malitiosissime excusa ; omissis nonnunquam verbis in- 
 tegris, non sinestructurae totius atque sententiae vel de- 
 pravatione vel interitu. Quod ego omnes volo monitos, 
 qui mea curant legisse, nequid meum ex officina homi- 
 nis inimici et veteratoris exire integrum aut sincerum 
 existiment. Huic accessio est, Vlacci itidem mala merx, 
 " Alexandri Mori fides publica." Ita ego quos a me 
 longissime summovisse ac protelasse sum ratus, eos vel 
 invitHs sub iisdem pellibus conjunctissimos mihi repe- 
 rio. Sic est profecto ; qui liberrim^ riserit hos homines, 
 sibi devinxerit. Cavendum san^ et procul fugiendum 
 erit cui putaverint isti nasum esse aduncum ; ne ali- 
 quando satis irrisi, irridentis naribus duntaxat uncis 
 ipsi sese tanquam uniones hinc atque inde suspendant. 
 Cognoscite vero nunc adversarium, siquis unquam fuit, 
 degenerem,iniquum,odiosum. Nam ut primum, nescio 
 quo casu per amicum meum, non id agentem ut ab isto 
 gratiam iniret ullam, intellexit me ad Clamorem Regii 
 Sanguinis responsum in se edere, aestuare mens homi- 
 nis conscia, et omnes in partes versare se coepit. Inter 
 alia trepidantis atque degeneris animi indicia, qui libel- 
 lum modo famosum tam cupide, tamque improbe in 
 alios edidisset, libellum nunc supplicem ad legatum 
 foederatorum ordinum apud nos commorantem scribit, 
 orans atque obsecrans, uti cum Dom. Protectore quam 
 instantissime de supprimenda mea defensione ageret. 
 Cum responsum tulisset impetrari nequaquam id posse, 
 exire nihilominus in lucem, jamque adnavigare animad- 
 versorem in se librum cum spicilegio quodam et collec- 
 taneis facinorum suorum contnrbatus, et hue, illuc 
 cursitans, circumspectissimus deinde homo, totus in 
 speculis est; oculos ab litore dimovere vix audet; ubi 
 advenisse librum cognovit, suumque statim indicem 
 sensit, prece nescio an pretio exorat librarium, ut ex- 
 emplum illius libri nllum ne divenderet, donee ipse re- 
 sponsum suum confecisset; id est, ut commercii fidera 
 violaret, donee iste " fidem publicam" conflasset. Ita 
 bonus ille vir quingenta plus minus exempla recte et 
 emendate edita suo arbitratu premit, dum Vlaccus in- 
 terim jacturam alienam suum ratus compendium, quot 
 sibi videtur mendosa imprimit. Bene agis, Vlacce, ut 
 consuevisti ; sed auctarium hoc damni quid sibi vult 
 adjectum? cur appendices vos ipsos adjunxistis mihi, 
 hominum importunissimi ? nemone ut possit me velle, 
 quin vos quoque vel ingratissimum unus una ferre co- 
 gatur ? Ergo ego, ut videtur, non caecus, sed caecias. 
 quos volebam propellere nebulones, attraxi. Tu vero, 
 adeone tibi. More, tuoque sive genio sive ingenio diffi^ 
 sus es, ut victurum te, et in manus hominum perven- 
 turum desperares, nisi te mihi asseclam quocunque 
 irem, male conciliatum agglutinares, et emptoribus 
 eliam nolentibus te obtruderes ? verum expertus jam 
 didici quid sit picem attrectare; et erat hoc, opinor, 
 baud minus Vlacci astutia provisum, qui non typogra- 
 phus solum, sed arithmeticus, quod jam fateor, vetuhis, 
 
738 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 metiiebat ne " Alexandri Mori" ueglecta " fides pub- 
 lica" jaceret, seque asoricibus eegre tueretur, nisi banc 
 artetn alig^atiuiiis, vcr^ cauponariam, adbibuisset, et 
 vile ac vitiosuin vciidibili niiscuisset. Age vero, quo- 
 uiani necesse est cum Defeiisione pro Pop. Anglicano, 
 Alexandri Mori fidcni publicam coemere, quanquam 
 parva hacc, utcunque nunimulorum jactura crit, disccre 
 ex te avenius, quid sit " Mori fides publica?" utruni 
 confessionem tutp fidei publicam nobis exbibcs, an quid 
 in symbolum ? Htcc enim tua fides piiblica est, opinor ; 
 privata an sit dicant, qui te Spir. Sanctum non agnos- 
 cere accusant. Quid ergo est."" tuamne dicamus fidem 
 esse publicam, an fidem publicam esse tuara .'' Tuam 
 fidem sicut et pudicitiam esse publicam, non est diffi- 
 cile ut credaraus. Qui enim alicnas uxores et ancillas 
 vis esse publicas, quidni tua omnia, pudorem etiam ac 
 fidem publicam esse velis .'' An vero hoc est quod di- 
 cis, fidem publicam esse tuara .' at hoc qui potest fieri .'' 
 Tune fidem publicam pro scorto ahduxisse te putas, 
 tua ut simul esset et publica .'* aut captiosus hie titulus 
 est, aut sensu vacuus. Si tua fides bsec est, quemad- 
 modum est publica ? si publica est, quemadmodum 
 est tua? Relinquitur ut vel imprudens hoc titulo sig- 
 nificasse videare cum Alexandri Mori fides publica 
 sit, adeoque non tua; rursus cum tua sit, ideoque non 
 publica, banc quam aflTers fidem repugnantem et im- 
 plicitam, nee publicam esse nee tuam. Quid ergo ? 
 aut dubiam, aut inaneni, aut denique nnllam. Quod 
 si contendis banc fidem omnino esse publicam, quae 
 tua tanta impudentia est, More, ut cum fidem ipse 
 nullam habeas quam pro te afferas, tot fiagitia perpe- 
 trare fide publica existimes tibi licere ? ut nunquam 
 alias dici verius, quam de te versiculus iste videatur, 
 quicquid peccat Morus, plectitur fides publica. Haec 
 tibi uni licentia si concedatur, non tu Alexander Mo- 
 rus, sed Alexander ille Phrjgius mea quidem sententia 
 nominaberis. Beatum interim te, cui militet fides 
 publica. Contra quem autem .' contra meas nempe 
 " calumnias." Quas tandem illas.** an quod infamis 
 libelli Clamoris Regii aathorem te affii-maverira, nunc 
 etiam justa probatione arguerim ? at verbum de isto 
 Claraore in tua fide publica nullum. An quod hor- 
 tensem te adulterum, domcsticum Pontiae stupratorem 
 enarraverim ? at horti percaute tu quidem ac timide 
 nientionem facis; facta utrobique fiagitia aut non om- 
 nino, aut oblique tantiim et frigid^ negas. Quid ergo 
 fidem publicam sollicitare opus erat iis de rebus, quas 
 audacter ipse negare non potes.-* nihil sane, nisi quod 
 circumforanei pharmacopola3 et vanissimi circulatoris 
 hoc solum tibi defuit, ut elogiis ac testimoniis, nescio 
 quo pacto adscitis atque correptis, et ostentata fide 
 publica te venditares. Tibi igitur si "scurra"sum, 
 minus commoveor; quandoquidem is, qui ab oraculo 
 sapientissimus, ab tui similibus scurra Atticus est dic- 
 tus. Cur autem scurra tibi videor. More .'' an quod 
 nequitias tuas interdum false perstrinxerim .'' ne tu stul- 
 tior sis. More, et adhuc magis ridendus, si quenquani 
 putas, modd emunctce naris sit, ad tuos foetores, nisi 
 sale conspersos, posse appropinquare. Sed vide, quam 
 tibi temperaverim, quam leniter tecum egerim : Cum 
 enim in ipsa fronte libri nullo negotio' potuerim tibi 
 
 paria retulisse, et affixu tibi cognomento appositissimo 
 atque meritissimo ita scripsisse, " Contra Alexandniiii 
 Morum adulterum et cinaedum," cohibui me; partiiu 
 tui miscrtus, partim ut legcntium oculis atque anribtis 
 nonnihil consulercni, ne subito occursii tants foeditatis 
 atque oflfensione avcrterentur. 
 
 Sed de his plus satis; infantissimo nunc titulo ad 
 librum ipsum vcniamus: id quod te, ut video, non de- 
 lectat ; nam recta eunti viam obstruis ; et legrotantcm 
 doctorculum nescio quem Crantzium cum lectulo it 
 culcitra, tanquam aggerem aut vallum obdis tibi 1 1 
 transversum extrudis. Qui " ceger," ut ipse ait, et iii 
 fallor aegerrimus, id est maledicendi cupidissimus, bau'l 
 scio an ventilata lodice vix se in cubitum erexerit, ut 
 haec sua febriculosa somnia deliraret. Mox quasi tes- 
 tamento jam facto subjicit, " Scripsi propria manu ct 
 subsignavi licet aeger corpore." Age jam tu, si vis, 
 animam ; nos resignemus; et lectori imprimis quid 
 legavcris inspiciamus : raultam, opinor, salutom ; ne 
 unciolam quidem; quid ergo? plorare: "Lege si poles 
 et luge." Me vero, quod ignotus minimi expectabam, 
 secundum heeredem quincunce toto maledictorum 
 aspergis. " Lege," inquis, " et luge saeculi vicem, in 
 quo nialedicenti»e tantum licet :" Luge potiiis tot in- 
 sipientes doctorculos, quos nisi mature caveat hoc 
 steculum, vereor ne propediem et lugeat et luat. Tu 
 vero tum luxisses, cum inaudita audacia Salmasius 
 homo privatus, extraneus, nulla injuria lacessitus, in 
 universam Anglicanam rerap. atque senatum foedissi- 
 mis contumeliis bacchatus est : tum luxisses, cum pro- 
 brosus iile anonymus Clamorem Regii Sanguinis in 
 nos eructavit, nee acerbissimis niodo verborum contu- 
 meliis ad rabiem usque furit ac stevit, sed nobiscum si 
 agi oportere, decere, convenire, rationibus et argu- 
 mentis, ut ipse putat, Christianis defendere conatur. 
 Cognosce nunc, si potes, tuam ipse iniquitatem : ciim 
 externi, ad quos nostra nihil pertinent, nobis vel acer- 
 bissinid maledicunt, et maledicentiam ipsam defendunt, 
 vis omnes " legant :" cum ego et pro meo in patriani 
 officio, et magistratuum jussu, meos cives ac popularcs, 
 me denique ipsum probris omnibus Isesum dcfendo, vis 
 omnes " lugeant." Tum cavere lectoreui jubes, ne 
 me " credat historicum." At neque tu Albertus es 
 Crantzius; et hoc tibi edico caveas, ne ego antcquam 
 peroravero te citiiis mendacem, quam tu me " fabula- 
 toreni " coarguas. " Quis et quulis sit iste Miltonus," 
 inquis, " ignoro." Non displicet ; neque enim tanti 
 est tuum nosse aut non nosse : Ego vero te statim novi 
 et morbum tuum. " Quis sit," inquis, " ignoro ; 
 libelli ejus satis docent." Indocilis ergo Crantzius, qui 
 ignorat; temerarius item atque injurius, qui ignotum 
 illtBsus laedis, qui per calumniam ac maledicendi prae- 
 properam libidinem ex libro de divortiis, loco non citato 
 verbis aut non plene aut perperam adscriptis, blas>J 
 phcmiai falso insimulas. Tu ant^, quisquis es Crantzi 
 in malam pcstem abieris, quam dixisse me " Doctrina 
 Evangelii et Dom. nostri Jesu Christi de divortio esse, 
 diabolicam,"usquam inveneris. Quod si dixi fortasse, 
 quam inde conficiunt vulgares interpretes doctrinam 
 qua post divortium neccssario factum, omnc aliud ma< 
 trimonium interdicunt, esse diabulicam, id esse bla 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUxM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 739 
 
 phemiam quo tu pacto evincis? nisi si forte theologorum 
 dictatisquibusviscontradicere,nuncpriniuniblaspheniia 
 est credeiida. Quod autem affirmas doctrinam de di- 
 vortiis " ab omnibus patribus a theolojjis veteribus et 
 hodiemls, ab omnibus academiis etecclesiis Britannicis, 
 HoUandicis, Gallicis" eodern modo explicari, scito te 
 vehementer hallucinari : et ignorantiam doctori tibi et 
 prsesertim reprehensori turpem prodere : quam si vacat, 
 in eo libro, qui a me " Tetrachordon" est inscriptus, 
 exues. Poteris ibi, si libet, discere, quam ego tueor 
 sententiam earn et patrum aliquot, et summorum postea 
 tbeologorum Buceri, Fagii, Martyris, Erasmi fuisse ; 
 quorum hie justo tractatu Phimostomum quendam doc- 
 torem, tui comparem, eadenique fere blaterantem refel- 
 lit. Interea non miror laborare te tantopere de inhiben- 
 dis divortiis, cum animadverto etiam domi tuce baud 
 leva accidere divortium solere ; nimirum sensus com- 
 munis ab loquacitate tua. Quis cnim mentis compos 
 aut sentcntise suse sic loquitur? " In Salmasio vix ipsi 
 inimici aliud rcquirunt, quam quod fucrit iracundior, et 
 male conjugatus." Patere te doceri, doctorcule, quod 
 pueruli sciant. Non requirebant illi quod fuit, sed quud 
 non fuit. Ais me " Eunuchum dixisse Salmasium," 
 quod nunquam dixi ; duos tantummodo versus ex Eu- 
 nucbi Terentiani prologo desumpsi, ut scenicum plo- 
 rantis exordium, et lamentabile ridiculum risu, ut par 
 erat, exciperera. "Nihil minus quam Eunuchum" 
 fuisse affirmas : id mea nihil refert. Tu tamen, quid 
 hac in parte solus tarn audacter pronuncies, cave. 
 Adeone legum nescius ac rudis es, ut ullam rem diffi- 
 ciliiis probare te posse sine duobus testibus arbitreris .'' 
 Sed minitaris deinde ; " siquando prodibit viri summi 
 posthumus liber, Miltonius sentiet mortuos quoque 
 mordere." Vos ipsi existimare potestis, qui vivum non 
 pertimui, eundcm mortuum quam non reformidem. 
 
 Sternum latrans exangues terreat umbras. 
 
 Si mordacem in me mortuum emiseritis, scitote neque 
 melle neque mulso placatum a me iri. Cognoscetis an 
 et ego \6yov tirirditnov commode possim scribere. " Dii 
 boni," inquis, "quam niger est Miltonius, si fides Sal- 
 masio ?" at ipsam inferorum fuliginem si secum trahat, 
 me, Deo ben^ juvante, denigrare non poterit. Tu 
 Salmasii in meconvitiaut loet6 nunc refers! quasi pul- 
 mentum oegroto tibi hoc csset : contra ilia convitia ciim 
 ego me, ut par atque tequum est, defendam, tunc tuum 
 illud triste et querebundum rursus audiemus, "Lege et 
 luge ;" et illi " Dii boni" tui tunc rursus fortasse ira- 
 plorabuntur. Sed die, quaeso, sacrosanctue theologiae 
 doctor, quos tu Deos bonos colis ? vereor ne catechu- 
 menus hie potius, quam doctor dicendus sis. Docent 
 sacrae literee unum esse bonum Deum. Tibi si Dii 
 boni sunt, erit fortassis et bona Dea; cujus tu sacerdos 
 et mystagogus Corybantem in me nunc agis. Ego 
 qute in Morum attuli, quanquam tu "falsissima esse" 
 prsefidenter affirmas, sciunt illi esse vera, qui rebus 
 omnibus interfuere, quique nullum Genevae Crantzium 
 eo tempore cognoverunt. Hoc sane miretur quispiam 
 si hsec Mori fides publica est, quo pacto, quove nomine 
 tua ista privata fides hue nobis ex grabatulo in praefa- 
 tionem irrepsit. Iniqnitas certe in me tua fidem de 
 3 B 
 
 illo quam infercis hie tuam in dubium vocat, qui me 
 accusas, quod " innocentissimo typographo parcere non 
 potuerim." Ergo Vlaccus qui me sibi prorsus ignotum 
 petulantissimis convitiis adscripto nomine palam ap- 
 petivit, tibi " innocentissimus" est. Audi ergo iterum, 
 theologe, cui tu sacroe scientiae vix initiatus mihi videris, 
 audi quam te tuosque mores theologia sacra et sapien- 
 tissimus praeceptor dedoceat : qui absolvit improbum, 
 et qui condemnat justum, abominationi Jehovae sunt 
 seque ambo. Veriim baud scio utrum in me ex ignoto 
 factum modo iuimicum iniquior, an in amicum ipsum 
 ineptior sis Morum : cujus predicatas virtutes tot vitiis 
 interpunctas, et prope alternas introducis, ut non 
 ornatum, sed maculis tantummodo variatum, non 
 Morum, sed morionem demisisse abs tuis laudi- 
 bus videaris. Pictor sane eximius primam laudis 
 lincam cum litura ducis ; " semper magnas inimicitias 
 exercuit cum oemulis." Vitium narras, Crantzi, in mi- 
 nistro evangelii quam minimi tolerandum; prtesertim 
 cum " iis inimicitiis ipse," quod fateris, " nimia lo- 
 quendi libertate, locum saepe pruebuerit." Deinde est 
 arrogans et Gallice " Altierus," et Spanhemii judicio 
 et tuo. Hactenus nigro lapillo ; nunc vario : " Foelix 
 ingenium, nisi crabrones irritasset." iEmulos nimirum 
 suos, non ipse aquila, sed ut muscas olim scarabeus ille 
 vespoe filius. " Nullum novit Salmasius nobiliorem 
 genium, si laboris tolerantior fuisset :" Ignavus igitur 
 Morus; et tamen semper genio satis indulsit. Additque 
 ipse Salmasius " varie Isesisse uxorem suam :" Unde 
 protervus in matronas etiam Morus ; " prseter incon- 
 siderationera" quoque " tali homiue indignam:" Sal- 
 masio itaque judice, quid est Morus nisi morus .-* Hie 
 autera fateor satis causae fuisse, cur" ipgrum" te sub- 
 scriberes ; manifesto enim febricitas. Qui sic tibi dix- 
 isse Salmasium ais, " siquid in" Pontia "peccavit" 
 Morus, " ego sum leno et uxor mea lena." J'estive tu 
 quidem in hoc dramate personarum numerum auxisti, 
 et uberem ridendi ansam, sicui otium esset, porrexisti. 
 Veriim siquid hujusmodi Salmasius amico tibi et pri- 
 vatim, siquid incommodius de se vel de uxore familiar- 
 iter locutus est, id tu, nisi plane delirares, amicitiam 
 saltem reveritus et arcanum domesticum, non tarn sto- 
 lide hoc in loco eff'utisses. Sed redis ad laudes, 
 " acutum judicium Mori ;" adjunge " inconsidera- 
 tionem" illam " tali homine indignam," res duas inter 
 se conjunctissimas. " Foelicitatem in concionando ;" 
 et infffilicitatem in scortando : par alterum in Mori 
 laudibus appositissimum. Accedit corollari loco " trium 
 linguarum peritia :" quae professorem hunc tandem 
 consummat nobis trilinguem ; id est, cum supradictis 
 virtutibus paulo plus quam triobolarem. Cum voto 
 denique finem facis ineptiendi ; ut " Deus Christian- 
 orum" (modo enim reliquisse " Deos bonos" tuos vide- 
 ris) "banc nientem inspiret potestatibus, ut banc scrip- 
 turiendi licentiam Christianis infamem compescant." 
 Vos itaque priores compescant, a quibus haec omuis 
 licentia prirao exorta est : mihi raei defendendi jus ac 
 potestatem adversus contumelias vestras, uti spero, non 
 eripient. Intelliges turn ipse, quam ego libens omni 
 hoc genere contentionum supersedeam. Atque tibi 
 jam, Ht puto, satisfactum est : idque eo ampliiis feci. 
 
740 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 quu<l doctnrcm te sacrosanctce tlicologitc cum amplis- 
 simo pliylacterio a<;nosccrem ; docturibus autcm miri- 
 ficd delector. 
 
 Nunc Vlaccuni paucis digiiemur : nam et Vlaccus 
 responsat, typofjrapliiis meus, et neccssarius jam factus. 
 Responsa honiiiiis brcviter coUepram, ut pcrspiciatis 
 quam belle quadrent. Es veterator, inquam, Vlacce. 
 Sum bonus, inquit, " arithmeticus." Et tanien que- 
 runtiir, qui tibi expensum tulerunt, pessim^ te numc- 
 rare. Ego ad probitatis norinam te exi<fo. Hem tibi, 
 inquit, " canonem lo^arithniicum ! Sophistica base 
 est, Vlacce, non logristica : perinde quasi idcirco solum 
 aritbmeticam didicisses, quod in ea falsi re<ifultim doceri 
 audiveras. Clancularius es, inquam, et obscratus aufu- 
 fpsti. Tu mihi " sinuum tabulas," et " tangeutium," 
 et " secantium " crepas. At quibus tecum ratio est, 
 expensi tabulis te urgent : idque ipsum est quod sinu- 
 osum te uimis, et alieni cupidius tangcntem, et male 
 secantem quenintur. " Trigononietriam," inquis, 
 "conversis sinubusin logarithmosartificialem absolvi." 
 At artificia interim tua et versutias creditores luunt: 
 Non trigonometram, sed tetragon um sine fraude cum 
 illis te esse oportuit; non angulos et obliquitates, sed 
 suum cuique metiri ac reddere. De caetero, ad tuam 
 te confessionem ipsam rejicio. Londini, Parisiis, iniqui 
 librarii, iniquum judicium, iniqui judices ; tu solus in- 
 t^er et castas : at illi contra te unum omnes cum 
 audientur, vera esse ea quce de te dixi, nemo non 
 fatebitur. In me autem quam scelestus fueris, facile 
 evincam. Prinium scripsisti ad Hartlibium, petens, ut 
 mea,siquid haberem, posses excudere; et simul de mea 
 oculorum calamitate, essemne omnino orbus luminum, 
 sedulo et quasi dolens quassivisti : mox proditorie, ciira 
 inlelligeres nibil tibi a me excudendum venire, ctecita- 
 tem mihi, quam quasi sollicite modo et dolenter in- 
 quirebas, eam statim scelerat^ insultans palam expro- 
 brasti. Nam tjpographus, inquis, sum ; " quid ad 
 typograpbos tam maguae controversice, nisi ut operam 
 suam?" Acutum sane et typographicura ! Non alius 
 qulaquam typographis plus hac in parte quam ego con- 
 cesserim. Num ergo tu famosissimo libello tuum sub- 
 scribere professum nomen quasi author esses, debuisti ? 
 et cujus ex libris lucrari cupiebas, neque nunc primiim, 
 ut audio, lucratus es, ejus nomen tui-pissimis contumeliis 
 maculare, cum privilegio scilicet, licere tibi existi- 
 masti? " Bellum," inquis, " erat;" et simul miratur 
 tua vastitas, quod, facta pace, baccbationes in me priva- 
 tim tuas et singularem insolentiam impune tibi esse 
 noluerim. Nescis enim, vappa, quid belli ratio, in 
 causa etiam longissime diversa, ab temulenta tua 
 rabie discrepet. An siquisexistimationem meam priva- 
 tus per causam belli farooso libro violaverit, ea mihi 
 injuria devoranda est, ut ne possim, cum visum erit, me 
 justa et expectata defensione vindicarc ? " Non me pu- 
 duit," inquis, " quanquam ignominiose accusatum, al- 
 teram editionem adornare." At non omnes tibi similes 
 sunt, Vlacce, ut non pudeat fidem, pudorem, omnia lucro 
 postponere; cujus foeda cupiditas adeo vilem tibi et ab- 
 jcctum animum ingeneravit, ut tuis ipse typis teipsuni 
 graphic*!; mbulonem depinxisse non erubcscas; eodem- 
 que tempore mihi malediccre, et meis ex libris quees- 
 
 tum facere. In quo quid cani similius fieri abs te po- 
 tuit? cujus ego ailatrantis capili, ciini os illud vehe- 
 nientcr inttixissem, exclanias tu quidem et quoEritaris; 
 mox ut csculentum esse comperisli, reversus blandulc, 
 rod is simul et liguris. Tu vero mea ut non omnino 
 attigisse debuisti, aut non corrupisse ; nunc ininiicus 
 librum nieum non solum excudisti, sed ultione vilissima 
 deformatum ac mutilatum et adversariis bine inde ob- 
 sessum exposuisti : quorum alterum rapacissimam lu- 
 celli cujusvis aviditatem tuam, alterum et tuam singu- 
 larem militiam et tuarum mcrcium improbitatcm decla- 
 rat. Heec tua sunt, Vlacce. Nunc rcmotote circumpede 
 herum tuum aggredi tandem ab latere aperto libcrius 
 licebit. Qui quamvis non modu intus turpis, et sibi 
 conscius, sed foris jam pene omnibus manifestus atque 
 perspicHus sit, tamen cum in audacia positam sibi esse 
 spem unicam statuerit, absterso ore, ut in proverbio 
 sacro scortum illud, et assumpta non solum viri sancti 
 oratione atque persona, sed sapientissimi quoque titulo 
 Ecclesiastes novus cum mala cruce, et sacrarum litera- 
 rum professor profanus incedit. Adeo ut rairentur 
 omnes in quo summa esse tot vitia reperirentur, in eo 
 ilia omnia potuisse ab impudentia tani longe superari. 
 Ego vero eorum quae de te scripsi. More, ciira " af- 
 finxerira " sane nihil, affirmaverim autem ea quae et cre- 
 berrima passim fama, et mihi privatim testibus idoneis 
 essent cognita, utrius hoc nostri " ad sempiternum dede- 
 cus" futurum sit, non id tuum, quod tamen tibi arrogas, 
 judicium erit, sed, Dei voluntate, homiuum integrorum 
 sententiis dirimetur. Tu interim praefationis mihi (quid 
 enim " tui prsefatio" si nondum assequor) vel " va- 
 nissimi" vel " mendacissimi," quanquam uberrima tibi 
 mendaciorum copia est, mitte " comparare." Testimo- 
 nialium ut sis tibimet callidissimus aeruscator, prjefa- 
 tionum tamen coactorem te mihi nolo. Nam quod aiat 
 quae de te protuli " ejusmodi esse, nemo ut sit eorun 
 quibus paulo propius innotuisti, quamvis iniquior esset 
 quin falsitatis perpetuae coarguat," id usque eo veritat 
 plane contrarium est, ut eorum qui te " propius" n<^ 
 runt, multi nuntiis, non nemo literis questus mecun 
 sit huic me argumento facinorum tuorum tam uberi ei 
 copioso parum satisfecisse ; tantum abesse, quicquad 
 ut finxerim, ut permultas, proeclaras etiam, tuas re 
 gestas silentio proeterierim : se, si adfuissent, quod 
 optabant quoque nonnulli, largiore me palmarum tua 
 rum accessione et copia facile fuisse instructuros. Tuui 
 ergo illud " miserere," quo tu et operarius tuus, par 
 bipeduni odiosissimum, " misereri moam vicem" vultis 
 ridicule videri, vobis vestrisque vicibus moneo reserve- 
 tis, ego a me procul arceo : miserationes improborum 
 cujusmodi sint, didici. Nam quid est, obsecro, quod 
 miserationem banc vestram inhumanam tandem com- 
 moverit .'' quod " in te" nempe " honiinem immcritum 
 grassatus sim." At 6 gemina impudentia, et conscio- 
 rum par callosissimum ! vosne ut audcatis vos " immc 
 ritos" asseverare, nisi fort^ vocis ambiguo colluditi 
 qnnrum alter Clamorem ilium infaniem atque itifandui 
 edidit, alter excudit, uterque divulgavit.^ Discant hir 
 omnes, quce vos " cum bono Deo" affirmare soleatij 
 quam sint pro nihilo habenda. Nee prccationem fell 
 cius, ([ukm miserationem adscivisti; ut ad "justam w 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 741 
 
 minis tui defensionem aggredienti veram et verecun- 
 dam siiggerat tibi Deus orationem, ab omni mendacio 
 et obscoenitate prorsus abhorrentem :" Altenim enim 
 nunquam es proestiturus, ut mendaciis abstiueas; alte- 
 runi iniqiiissim^ precaris, ut cum tua facta obsccEiiissi- 
 ma sint, orationem suggerat tibi Deus factis abborren- 
 tem : quod contra precari debuisses, ut suggereret tibi 
 Deus non verecundam, sed obsccenam : sic enim tua 
 facta verbis saltern propriis et non mendacibus Deo at- 
 que hominibus confessus esses ; sic non hypocritam 
 eg-isses; quod Deo long^ gratius fuisset. Nunc non 
 Deus te, sed tua ilia Dea audit Cotytto, sive ea Laverna, 
 sive utraque est, labra tacit^ moventem: 
 
 " Da mihi fallere ; da justo sanctoque videri : 
 " Noctem peccatis,ct stupris objice nubem." 
 
 Qufieris qui sciam quae tu tecum? Dicam. Vocale 
 quiddam, si nescis, omnis, totusque homo est: non lin- 
 gua, non vox hominis sola loquitur ; vita ipsa, mores, 
 facta, quid quisque velit, tacente scepius lingua, clamant 
 atque testantur. Tu itaque hoec tacite ; ilia clar^ ; 
 " Orationem videlicet ob omni mendacio et obscoenitate 
 prorsus abhorrentem, hoc est inquis dissimillimam 
 luce." De hoc utroque sigillatim a me tuo ordine re- 
 spoiidebitur. A mendaciis exordiris : " nam ut hinc," 
 inquis " ordiar, quid mendacius ipsa fronte libelli tui ? 
 queni," nescis quare, Defensionem Secundam pro Populo 
 Anglicano vocem ; " re quidem vera" inquis " teterri- 
 mam contra me satyram et ventosissimum panegyricum 
 k te dictum tibi." Nae tu mendacia jejunus admodum 
 et esuriens, sed inani morsu captas, si toto libro nihil 
 mendacius ipsa fronte invenire potes : Quam ego et 
 veracem esse, et per omnia libro consentaneam facile 
 demonstrabo ; quid enim appositius, quid accommoda- 
 tius ad defensionem populi Anglicani, qu^m si ejus 
 vitam et mores turpissimos esse convincam, qui probro- 
 sissimo libello edito populum Anglicanum tanta injuria 
 lacessisset? eum te esse confirmo. Quid si digressus 
 aliquotics essem, et in materia pncsertim tam trita et 
 Scepe tristi lectoris nonnunquam rccreare animum ali- 
 unde experirer ? Tune adeo pressus et minime laxus 
 homo es, ut latum unguem ab argumenti cancellis dis- 
 cedere quoquam licere non putes? quae lex rhetorum 
 tuorum digressiones istiusmodi reprehendit? Ego si 
 exemplis, quod possem,oratorum illustrium explicarera 
 quid hac in parte liceat et usitatum sit, efficerem ut 
 appareret statim facili negotio, quam tu harum rerum 
 rudis atque ignarus sis. Nee solam satyram, quod ais, 
 in te scripsi, sed ut perspicerent omnes, libentiiis me et 
 multo studiosiiis bonos collaudare, quam malos vitupe- 
 rare, clarissiniorum aliquot nominum laudes, qui vel 
 patriam armis et consilio egregie liberassent, vel mihi 
 saltem facta eorum defendenti favissent, (cum id etiam 
 causam cohonestaret,) et passim admiscui, et plenius 
 introduxi. Atque adeo ne hoc quidem, quod serenis- 
 simee Suecorum Reginae gratias potius, quam laudes 
 persolverim, tu unquam ostenderis a defensione pop. 
 lAnglicani, cui ilia impense existimata est favisse, ali- 
 lenum fuisse. Quid si, quod objectas, me denique lau- 
 dassem aliquantisper digressus? quis ea tempora, eas 
 " rsaepe causas incidere non fateatur, ut propriae laudes 
 
 etiam sanctissimis modestissimisque viris indecorse non 
 sint, nee unquam fuerint ? hunc etiam locum uberri- 
 mum exemplorum illustrare copia si vellem, equidem 
 me omnibus facile probarem tu obmutesceres. Sed me 
 nusquam laudavi; nee, quod criminaris, panegyricum 
 a me mihimet dictum usquam invenies : Singulare 
 quidem'in me divini numinis beneficium, quod me ad 
 defendendam libertatis tam fortiter vindicatse causam 
 praeter caeteros evocasset, et agnovisse fateor, et nun- 
 quam non agnoscere debere : et praeclaram hinc mini- 
 meque culpandam, ut ego quidem arbitror, exordjendi 
 materiam sumpsisse. Petitus deinde ab illo Clamore 
 Regio convitiis omnibus atque calumniis, et infimorum 
 numero habitus, non me laudibus, quanquam id nefas 
 non erat, contra adversarios despectores, sed nuda ac 
 simplici rerum mearum narratione contentus, tuebar : 
 id populi Anglicani quem defendebam, quanti inter- 
 essct, uti ego meam existimationem non plane abjicerem 
 nee obtrectandam quibusvis et obculcandam relin- 
 querem, praefatus antequam mei facerem mentionem 
 sedulo ostendi ; offensionem denique si cujus forte hac 
 in re incurrissem, baud negligenter sum deprecatus. 
 Heiec tu si propter invidentiam et livorem aut non 
 legere aut meminisse non vis, quid est reliqui nisi ut 
 crepes? nullum enim in fronte libri mendacium, nisi 
 abs te permalitiam atque calumniam conflatum reperi- 
 etur. Quanto mendacior " Alexandri Mori fides pub- 
 lica ?" an te omnia in illo libro ex fide publica scrip- 
 sissc audcs dicere ? atqui aut hoc tibi necessario dicen- 
 dum, aut libri illius fronti nulla fides est. Ita tu dum 
 in titulo tuo putidus, in meo malitiosus es, aut fides 
 publica frontem per te, aut tua frons fidem perdidit. 
 Pergis de mendaciis. " Alterum est," inquis, " au- 
 thorem esse me libri, cui titulus. Clamor Sanguinis 
 Regii." Quod cum ego verum esse firmissimis testi- 
 moniis jam supr^ demonstraverim, teque illius libri 
 certissimum curatorem atque editorem, omnium jure 
 gentium et legibus pro authore habendum esse, sequi- 
 tur ut quae mei fallendi spe nixus hoc loco vociferaris, 
 quasi author non esses, tametsi infirma per se, atque 
 inania sunt, nunc fundamento illo fallaci subruto, sua 
 sponte corruant atque subsidant : simulque ut totum 
 illud mendacium, ilia omnis " temeritas, impudentia, 
 immanitas," qua me per summam impudentiam hinc 
 oneras, in teipsum recidat. Exclamantem itaque et 
 frigentem et tuo laqueo impeditum, te hie praelereo : 
 nugas autem quasdam tuas sine risu non possum ; per 
 quas acutius et miserabiliiis exclamare te putas. " Nam 
 licet," inquis, " ea crimina quae in me conjicis vera 
 essent, tamen contra jus et fas omne esset, quod nullius 
 in nos authoritatis, quoddam tribunal excitas, crimina- 
 tiones publice spargis." An nescis ergo, hominum 
 ineptissime, idem hoc tribunal esse, eandem sellam 
 atque authoritatem, jus idem criminandi etjudicandi, 
 quod ego vestro primum Salmasio, mox Clamatori Re- 
 gio defensione justissima eripui ? vestruni ego nunc 
 exemplum atque judicium in vos converto, vestro jure 
 utor; vestrum ipsum tribunal, vestra subsellia, quae in 
 nos parastis, de vestris erepta manibus in vos justissim^ 
 statuo. " Deinde," inquis, " tametsi libri author illius 
 essem, non tibi tamen integrum fuisset tot scommata 
 
742 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 nihil ad causam pertincntia huic propinare steculo." 
 Videte, qucpso, ceqtiitatern honiiiiis : Sibi et Salmasio 
 licere vult omnia, calumnias, mendacia, contumelias ; 
 nobis vera in illos crimina retorquere, quasi ad causam 
 scilicet minus pertincntia, non licebit. San6 qui res, 
 rationesque rerura recto judicio ponderare solent, non 
 dubito quin mecum sentiant, nihil vehementius ad cau- 
 sam pertinere, quam quali quis vita atquc moribus sit 
 qui earn acerrirae defendat. Ego causam Regiam.qui 
 vehementissim^ defenderit, si aut corruptum esse aut 
 facinorosum arguo, baud levi arguniento impugnasse 
 me causam Regiam satis iutelligo : Si mendacem, si 
 turpem, si perfidum per omnem vitam criminatorem 
 nostrum esse ostendo, eundem quoque in nos esse eo 
 faciliiis fidem f<icio. Tu interim ciim duo tibi propo- 
 sueris ; " alterum," ut ostcnderes " nee esse te libri 
 autorem illius, nee id fuisse mihi persuasum ;" alterum, 
 " falsa esse quae in te conjecta sunt probra," nihil ho- 
 rum efficis; sed dissolutus ac fluens, modo hue, modo 
 illuc vagando, tum eadem inculcando, ignarus qxikm in 
 propinquo tibi effuse nunc, pabulanti latens a tergo 
 atque intactus hostis instet, dum nescire me putas quid 
 sit libelli authorem esse, aut quid tu feceris, in eadem 
 perstas vel futilitate vel fallacia. " Quid commerui ? 
 quid peccavi ? quando populum tuum Icesi ?" Cavil- 
 laris etiam ; " quando boves tuos aut equos abegi ?" 
 Non tu boves meos abegisti, cacus pastor ut sis ; sed 
 alienas oves abduxisti, tuam deseruisti Phrjx novus 
 Alexander, vel etiam Cataphrjx Morus. At " sciscitari 
 ex amicis" credo poteram, quos isthic apud nos babes, 
 nee " paucos nee vulgaris notee." Quasi vero ego, 
 qui " divinus," ut ais, " non sum," tuos amicos quinam 
 essent, scirem, qui ante hunc Clamorem belluinum abs 
 te editum, ne vagiisse quidem adhuc te aut infantem 
 natum sciebam. Aut tu plan6 sensu, vel saltern logica 
 destitutus es, aut ejus rudimenta non sic didicisses, 
 rclationes in sensum non incurrere. Itaque et inimicos 
 esse tibi tam multos eosque tua non pietate, sed turpi- 
 tudine qusesitos necdum audieram ; neque ut " ludi- 
 briis" tam esses " opportunus," neque ut tu. Veneris 
 nepos, " Junonem" sic iratam tibi haberes : quee tibi 
 essent infensa numina teque ignorabam, et qui essent 
 Crantzio " Dii boni." " Anui duo sunt," inquis, " ex 
 quo tuum hoc drama exornas." Quanquam hoc pcrri- 
 diculum est, quod optasses nunquam editum, id sero 
 editum queri, et sum ego qui elaboratum rccte atque 
 limaturo siquid est, id diu accurasse si dicor, nonrepre- 
 heudendum me magis quim scriptores quosque optimos 
 putem, qui tarditatem scribendiimputatamsibiasciolis 
 facile contempsere,tamen et hoc esse falsissimum ex pro- 
 flemio superioris libri intelligitur, ubi cur maturius non 
 respondissem causam reddidi, et errare te vehementer 
 scito, si operis tam ardui fuisse credis vel inanem cla- 
 morem refutare, vel te cuivis obnoxium ludos facere. 
 Nee mihi totsubcisivis horulis " dicta ilia Floralia," qusB 
 ▼ocas, quot tibi furtivis noctibus atque dieculis facta ilia 
 Fescennina stetere. Et " periisset" san^, hie enim tecum 
 sentio, paradisus ille tuus, et ficus et morus et sycomo- 
 rus, quibus nequitiam tuam, quantum potuit 6eri, 
 huneste adumbratam, quoniam sunt qui rem oculis non 
 Tisam, factam credi nolint, istius dcfcnsionis inanitatem 
 
 ridens, vcI argut^ vel contemptim exposui : pcriissent, 
 inquam, illi omnes non sane flosculi, sed arbusculte, nisi 
 tu in horto mcc.-hatus esses : ex hortensi et suburbana 
 cullionc (ua, non ex urbanitate mea anioenitas ista 
 omnis effloruit. Quod autem " in frontispicio satyrae 
 in te meoe" (quae non magis satjra est, quam quae est 
 Marci Tullii in Vatinium quemvis oratio) " tanquani 
 propylnpum operis illustre collocasse" me ais, " quid 
 Morus Graece significet, " frustra tu quidem propyla-a 
 somnias; non ita eram decori nescius, ut sublime qiiic- 
 quam aut tragicum in historia tua ponerem : Ego tugu- 
 riolum illud tuum in horto, tu Palatium illud vetus, in 
 quo hortus ille erat, fortasse cogitabas ; et in ilia olitoris 
 cellula, baud dubid Palatinus adulter tibi videbaris. 
 Id ipsum autem Greece significare te dixi quod etsi 
 lingua nulla esset, reipsa te esse nunc dice. Illud 
 tamen negaverim,quoties te tuo nomine Morura appello, 
 "invidiam me velle," quod quereris, " ex nomine fa- 
 cere," et moriam tibi objicere ; mihi enim id fere in 
 raentemnon venit; sed professori Grtecfe linguae Grie- 
 cum etymon Mori ita pcrpetuo salire per cerebrum tibi 
 solet, ut nemo salutare te possit More, quin tu ab eo te 
 stultum appellari morose admodum suspiceris. Ha;c 
 sunt et hujusmodi quae tu pagiiiis paulo minus viginti» 
 cum authorem te non esse Clamoris Regii probare de- 
 buisses, nugatus es : in quibus singulis si otiari tecum 
 diutius et morari vellem, ipse Morus essem. Nunc 
 tandem serio videris velle agere. " Non rumores, non 
 sermones, sed literas testes dabis, admonitum me fuisse 
 ne in hominem innoxium incurrerem." Literas ergo 
 inspiciamus, quas in medium affcrs " amplissimi viri 
 D. Nieuportii foederati Belgii legati"ad te scriptas ; 
 quas tu, ut videtur, literas non ad probationis vim, quam 
 nullam habent, sed ad ostentationem solum legendas 
 proposuisti. Is, quod singularem " viri amplissimi'' 
 humanitatem declarat (quid enim is non viri boni, qui 
 tui indignissimi causa tantopere laboraret ?) ad Dom. 
 Thurloium secretarium adit, tuas literas communicat. 
 Ciim nihil se proficere videret, ad me duos viros nobiles, 
 amicos meos, cum Uteris iisdem tuis allegat. Quid 
 illi ? Literas illas Mori recitant, rogant, et legatum 
 Nieuportium idem rogare aiunt, uti Uteris tuis, quibus 
 authorem Clamoris Regii negares te esse, fidem habe- 
 rem. Respondi non esse aequum quod postularent ; 
 neque tanta fide Morum, neque id fieri solere, ut contra 
 famam communem et rem alioqui satis compertam ne- 
 gantis de se rei et adversarii solis Uteris crederetur. 
 Illi, ciim aliud d contra nihil quod dicerent haberent, 
 pugnare desinunt. Si hsec non credis, tute percurre , 
 legati literas, quibus ego nunc testibus in te utor. 
 " Optabat eum non invulgare librum :" verum id meij 
 juris erat et potcstatis. " Ne tibi banc injuriam faceremi 
 ut illud tibi opus imputarem :" At liquere sibi, aut unde 
 sibi liqueret, injurium tibi hoc esse qui)d imputassemJ 
 non scribit. Saltem ut " nihil vellem inserere, quod 
 tangeret." Quidni veto te tangeret quod ad te pertint 
 nisi id ad te non pertinere demonstrasset ? demonstra 
 autem non potuisse, argumento fimiissimo est, qua 
 ciim Dom. Thurloio sccretario idem denuo persuade 
 vellet, nihil habuit quod mittcret, praaterquani ide 
 illud excmplum litcrarura tuaruni ; ex quo et ilh 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 743 
 
 facile perspicuum est, "rationes" illas ad nie allatas 
 " ob qiias optabat," ne vellem eum libium evulgare, 
 nihil conjunctum cum reipubl. rationibus habuisse. 
 Noli itaque tu liteias legati corrumpere : nihil illic de 
 "hostili spiritu," niiiil de " importune tempore:" tan- 
 tum " dolere"se scribit " noluisse me rogatu sue tantil- 
 lum moderationis ostendere : " id est, noluisse me suo 
 privatim rog-atu tibi adversario publico rem gratam fa- 
 cere; opus excusum et jam pene editum revocare et de 
 integro retexere. Excusatum me habeat " vir amplis- 
 simus,"et praesertim legatus, si injurias publicas priva- 
 tis intercessionibus condonare noluerim, nee sane 
 potuerim ; multoque minus eas injurias Clamoris 
 Reg'ii, quae neque ad helium neque ad patem recens 
 factam ullo modo spectarent. Bellum iliud contra 
 Anglos non contra rempubl. fuit: bellum vestrum non 
 contra Anglos, sed contra rempubl. est. An siquis re- 
 giai-um partium per bellum Refjium quicquara in nos 
 commisit, id per pacem Batavicam a nobis non erit 
 vindicandum ? siquis in rempubl. nostram contumeliose 
 quid scripsit, id post pacem cum Batavis factam non 
 erit rcfellendum ? an per alienum bellum plus Rcgiis 
 iu nos, quam per nostram pacem nobis in Regios lice- 
 bit ? At non nos cum Regiis ut eorum Clamatoribus, 
 sed cum iis provinciis pacem fecimus, a quibus causa 
 Regia longissime sejuncta est; eamque pacem in qua de 
 hostibns nostrae reipubl. non modo non favendis, sed ne 
 tecto quidem recipiendis nominatim exccptum esi. At 
 enim hoc " intempestivum," et " aTrtipoicaXoy fuit quod 
 alienissimo tempore ciim omnia hie et isthic festis ob 
 pacem ignibus coUucerent," tu solus gelida perfunderis. 
 Equidem non in eo positam airufroicaXiav existimabam 
 tu lautus homo ista melius : doleo non satis perpensa a 
 me officii momenta in te mei. At graviter peccatum 
 est ; tum enim " la^tis clamoribus nostrum vestrumque 
 caelum consonabat." Quasi vero to ardelione et incen- 
 diario bene multato, non multo laetius illi ignes pacifici 
 et sociales relucerent : quasi etiam " vestrum nostrum- 
 que ccelum" faustis clamoribus non multo Itetiiis con- 
 sonet ; cum infaustus et feralis inimicorum clamor com- 
 pescitur. Quod tu itaque alienissimum tempus, id ego 
 opportunissimum fuisse contend©: nee " obstrepuisse" 
 me, quod ais, " Pacis articulis," sed acclamasse et plau- 
 sisse. Postremo et me prorsus ignoras, et tibimet intra 
 paucos versiculos manifesto menda.Y deprehenderis. 
 " Abs te," inquis, " quo factum sit animo non inter- 
 preter:" Et statim, quod " depositis armis, animum 
 retinercs armatum." Mirum ni ex eo hello quiestum 
 feci, aut stipendium aliquod navale, qui factam pacem 
 usque eo moleste tulerim. Dicam igitur quod me di- 
 cere neque ullum obsequium, neque necessitas cogit. 
 I'alleris tu quidem magnopere, si quenquam esse An- 
 glorum putas, qui Foederatis Provinciis me uno sit 
 amicior, aut voluntate conjunctior; qui prajclarius de 
 republ. ilia sentiat; qui eorum industriam, artes, inge- 
 uium, libertatem aut pluris faciat, aut ssepiiis collaudet ; 
 qui bellum iucoeptum cum iis minus voluerit, suscep- 
 tum pacatius gesserit, compositum serio magis trium- 
 pharit ; qui denique obtrectatoribus eorum minus un- 
 quam crediderit. Unde tu nullam in me calumniam 
 raendaciorem aut minus congruentem affingere potuisti. 
 
 " At ilium rerum cardinem aucupatus esse videor, ut 
 prodeuntibus demum articulis pacis obstreperem." Tu 
 scilicet cardo rerum ; in te pacis articuli vertuntur ; hunc 
 si attingas, actum de pace est. At quem hominem ? quo 
 numero ? civem credo egregium, seuatorem primarium, 
 ornamentum curiae : imnio ne civem quidem, sed in- 
 quilinum, alienigenam, et Scoto-Gallum impurissimum, 
 odiosum omnibus atque offensum, reipubl. hostem, qui 
 si quo expulsus, ejectus, et in rem malam amandatus 
 esset, ne tantillum quidem articulis pacis noceretur; 
 immo satisfieret potiiis. Tu itaque desine, si sapis, 
 politicari; et pacis articulos cave dehinc mussites, ne- 
 quis te ex pacis articulis Regii Clamoris editorem ad 
 supplicium poscat. Pollicitus sum, inquis, legato, " nihil 
 indecens exiturum e calamo meo." Neque fefelli; vel 
 siquid omnino ilia in parte conimisi, in me solum com- 
 misi, dum tuos excutere putores, tua tractare inquina- 
 menta sustinui : et, quod illic etiam praefatus sum, non 
 tam quid me magis decuisset, quam quid te dignum 
 esset spectabam. Nee taraen indecentius aut acerbius 
 in te ego, quam olim viri gravissimi in improbum quem- 
 que ac perditum et concionibus honestissimo qiioqtie 
 civitatis in loco atque conventu habitis, et scriptis pa- 
 lam editrs invecti sunt. Verura ad illud nunc venio 
 quod virum sanctissimum et hujus setatis longe castis- 
 simum ofTendit Morum ; " illoto" scilicet " sermone 
 utor, verbis nudis et praetextatis. Propudium hominis 
 et prostibulum ! Tene illota verba reprehendere, qui 
 facta turpissima patrare non erubuisti ? Jam non poeni- 
 teret profecto, siquid in hoc genere liberius paulo dix- 
 issem ; etiamsi aliud inde nihil assequutus essem, nisi 
 ut elicerem ex te dissimulationem banc improbissimam, 
 teque personatum omnibus vel hinc palam educerera 
 hypocritarum omnium deterrimum. Quod autem tu 
 niihi dictum libro toto ostcnderis, quod vcrbum illotius, 
 quam hoc ipsum Morus? sed non in verbo neque in re, 
 sed in te vitium omne atque obscoenitas tota est. Tu 
 fauno quovis aut nudo satyro turpior, bona verba uti 
 nuda essent tuis moribus effecisti. Tuam nulla umbra, 
 ne ficus ipsa quidem, velare turpitudinem potuit. Qui 
 te dicit, tuaque flagitia, eum necesse est obscoena dl- 
 cere. Itaque si in tuum opprobrium vel nuda verba 
 exeruissem, facile me etiam gravissimorum authorum 
 exemplo defeudissem. Qui ita semper existimarunt, 
 verba nuda atque exerta cum iudignatione prolata, non 
 obsccenitatem, sed gravissimee reprehensionis vehemen- 
 tiam significare. Quis unquam Pisoni annalium scrip- 
 tori, qui propter virtutem et pudicos mores Frugi dictus 
 est, vitio vertit, quod in annalibus questus est " adole- 
 scentes peni deditos esse." Quis unquam Sallustium 
 scriptorem gravissimum repreheudit, quod etiam in 
 historia dixit ; 
 
 " Ventre, manu, pene, alea, bona patria dilacerari." 
 
 Quid Herodotum, Senecam, Suetonlum, Plutarchum, 
 authores omnium gravissimos adducam ? quos tu si ue- 
 gas verba etiam plusquampr8etextata,resque satis turpes 
 rebus gravioribus aliquoties immiscuisse, satis declaras 
 te iis in authoribus versatum non esse. Hoc si omni tem- 
 pore et loco indecens est, qnoties tu Erasmo doctissimo 
 qui Roterodami stat sereus, quoties Thomse Moro nos- 
 
744 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 tro, cujus lu nomen tuo commaculas, qiioties deniqiie 
 ipsis ecdesiee patribus antiquis, Alexandrino Clenienti, 
 Ariiubio, Lactaiitio, Euscbio, dum obsccena veterum rc- 
 lig^onum iiiysteria vei deiiudant, vel derident, iiideceii- 
 ticK et obscoinitatis dicain scribere debcbis ? Vcriitn tu 
 fortass^, ut sunt fere h^-pocritte, verbis tetrici, rebus 
 obscceiii, ne ipsura quidera Moseu ista noxa immuneiu 
 abs te dimiseris ; cum alibi seepius, turn etiam ubi 
 Phiniie hasta qua parte mulicrem transfixerit, siqua 
 fides Hebrwis, apertd narrat. Ne ipsuin quideni Jobum 
 pudentissitnuni ac paticntissiinuni, duni nierctricem 
 sibi uxorem iiudato et prisco sermone imprecatur, si 
 ipse alienee uxori insidiatus unquani fuisset. Non te 
 Salomonis Eupbemisnii censorem, non propbetarum 
 scripta tuam turpiculi inimo nunnunquam plan6 ob- 
 scceni censurara effujjerint, quoties Masorethis et Ra- 
 biuis, pro eo quod diserte scriptum est, suuni libet Keri 
 adscribere. Ad me quod attinet, fateor malic me cum 
 sacris scriptoribus tvQvppfifiova, quam cum i'utiiibus Ra- 
 binis tbaxhi^ova esse. Tuque frustra Marcum TuUium 
 inclamas; qui si " in aureo" illo quern citas, " de Offi- 
 ciis libro," illud jocandi genus elegans, urbanum, in- 
 geniosum, facetuni arbitratur, quo genere non modo 
 Plautus et Atticorum antiqua comccdia, sed etiam pbi- 
 losopborum Socraticorum libri referti sunt, id quod illic 
 legisse poteras, non Die mibi quidem nimis angustos, 
 non uimis severos decori statuisse fines videtur, ut cui- 
 quam difficile sit intra eos fines sese continere ; nedum 
 ut ego me non continuerim. Noli itaque tu mibi borao 
 inquinatissimus, de honesto et decoro ineptire ; non est 
 tuum, mibi crede ; immo tu sic hai>eto, nihil minus de- 
 ccre, nihil ab ratione ipsa decori magis abhorrere, quam 
 te talem, qualis es, lautum sermonem usurpare, aut 
 illotum rcprehcndere. Sed videris nunc velle rem om- 
 uem in pauca redigere : " Non sum," inquis, " autor 
 Clamoris." Non suades. " Res patet, dilucet, eamque 
 pluribus argumentis affirmare tarn sit ineptuni, quam 
 in clarissimum solem mortale lumen inferre." Desine 
 ampuUas; die tandem aliquid. "Ipse ego quantum 
 possum reclamo." Nempe nunc denuo ; minacitcr modu 
 et regie; nunc misere, " Amici non tacent." Ex ore 
 tuo. " Ecclesiastte admonent." Fide tua. " Legati 
 confiniant." Ex Uteris tuis. Quid hoc omne aliud est, 
 nisi ilia initio tua singularis negatio, " Non sum au- 
 thor?" Veriim tu, antequam ad hunc locum pervenisti, 
 jamdiu intclligis miser quo loco res tuie sint ; quos in 
 laqueos te indueris; quibus a me vinculis obses tenea- 
 ris: nunc quantum voles clama, te noii authorem Cla- 
 moris esse ; ciim omnium gentium leges atque jura, 
 preeconem te mihi pro clamatore, procuratorem pro au- 
 thore tradiderint. Quid nunc authore fiat, aut ubi 
 terrarum degat, nihil moror : vixerit san6 in Gallia, et 
 simul in Hollandia "jucundum fuerit videre," quod 
 iiarrat ipse, " quibus ludibriis, quibus periculis legati 
 nostri" eo tempore couflictarentur : sit vel Satanicee 
 minister synagogae, non laboro ; hoc saltern unum bend 
 fecit, quod te tam diligentem sibi tamque fidclera dia- 
 couum, nnn Evangelii, sed infamissimi libelli minis- 
 Irum rcliquit. Age nunc triumphos de me istos, quos 
 ego flc'biles tibi efficiam : prefer in medium, si potcs, 
 mea ilia " mendacia, meam illam imprudentiam, teme- 
 
 ritatem, audaciani, pertinaciam et impudentiam," meum 
 illud ingens piaculum quud te Regii Clamoris affirma- 
 vcrim authorem. Clama quantum potes k longinquo 
 ad populum Anglicanum quern illo antea uefario cia- 
 more edito tam indigne Inesisti : nam accedere non 
 audes. Vociferare, inquam, si satis in tuto es ; " Quan- 
 tum te, popule Anglicane, tua de Miltono fefellit opi- 
 nio !" Heec enim ipsa dum clamas, dum plaudis tibi, 
 et tanquam elapso gratularis, nescis me lustra tua, et 
 sylvas anonymas indagasse, nescis in plagis te meis 
 esse: sentit pop. Anglicanus me non prenitendum vel 
 defeiisorem juris sui, vel venatorem ferarum suarum. 
 En ego te reluctantem obtorto collo, traductum per 
 ora omnium, pestem populi, in ecclesia verrem, cauda 
 non minus, quam obliquo dente maleficum, in con- 
 spectum omnium protraho. Tiquc belluam pop. An- 
 glicano inspectandam, non eedilitatis, sed defensionis 
 metp gratissimum munus edo. Tu interea, nequid de- 
 sit ad triumphum, quem de me, ut putas, deluso atque 
 decepto agis, quod authorem Clamoris te dixerim, ad- 
 hibes, ut solet, jocos. Et " frontem," inquis, " imme- 
 rito perfricare diceris, tota enim jamdudiim frons tibi 
 periit." Noli nunc de me queri ; noli " sarcasnios," et" 
 " sannas" et scommata," simulata rursus gravitate, re- 
 prehendere : memineris ut hi ludi a teipso instaurati et 
 inlroducti nunc sint; ut reprehensos modo et damnatos 
 ipse nunc revoces. Facetus esse cupis ; non succurrit 
 in prsesentia: suggeram itaque ego jocos quosdam 
 tuos ; et quod triumphum maxime deceat, militares : 
 quique admoneant te temporis cujusdam, in quo frons 
 tua tam valide " perfricta" est, ut tibi tum multo ma- 
 luisses totam frontem periisse. Meministi fortasse illius 
 diei, immo vero diei, credo, et horae et loci meministi, 
 ciira tu Pontiam in domo Salmasii ultinium, ut opinor, 
 convenisti: tu illam, ut copulae renunciares; ilia te, ut 
 nuptiis diem diceres. Quae ubi e contrario pactum 
 stupro conjugium dissolvere in animo tibi esse videt, 
 tum vero tua innuba, non enim dicam Tisiphone, im- 
 patiens tanta; injuriae in faciem tibi atque oculos, non 
 sectis unguibus, furens involavit. Tu qui teste Crant- 
 zio (praestat enim non sine tua fide publica tantum cer- 
 tamen exordiri) qui teste, inquam, Crantzio " Gallice 
 Altier," Latine feroculus esses, teste Deodato, " terri- 
 biles ungues ad tui tutelam baberes," pro virili tua 
 parte ad foemineum hoc genus pugnae te comparas. 
 Stat arbitra certaminis Juno Salmasia. Ipse Salmasius 
 in conclavi proximo decumbens pedibus seger, ut prae- 
 lium commissum audiit, risu pene moritur. At heu 
 nefas ! imbellis noster Alexander, et Amazoni congres- 
 sus impar, succumbit. Ilia inferiorem nacta, in frontem 
 et supercilia nasumque hominis tum primiim superne 
 peccat : miris capreolis et Phrygiano opere totum ja- 
 centis vultum percurrit : nunquam tibi More lineamenta 
 Pontioe minus placuere. Ipse plena jam utraque mar- 
 gine genaruni, scriptus et in mento nccdum finitus, 
 aegr^ tandem surgi.s : sed ne pneniteat te, homo ad un- 
 gucm factus ; non jam professor, sed tamen Doctor 
 Pontificius: jure enim poteras tanquam in picta tabula 
 scripsisse, " Pontia fecit." Quid autem .•* Doctor ? 
 immo codex jam factus, in quo ullrix Pontia sua ad- 
 versaria exaravit stilo novo. Sensisti puto Vlacci tabu- 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 745 
 
 las tang-entium et secantium ad radium cifrarurn nescio 
 (jiiot lugubriiitn in pelle tua excudi. Tu turn More 
 " facie lion integra" domiim te proripuisti ; fronte qui- 
 deni exporrecta, qiiam vix contrabere jam poteras ; 
 supcrciliosus tamen et caperatns, quippe derepente 
 multu literatior; et quantum potes, abdis te quoque, 
 reconditae ut posses dici homo literaturae. Eho noster 
 Ecclesiastes ! ubi es? quid lates? expectant te jam 
 nunc, qui " tibi aures e superiore loco dicenti accom- 
 modare " solebant. Scd tibi misero nunc Pontia e 
 superiore loco dixit, tuisque auribus ung'ues acconirao- 
 davit. Redde nunc tuum vultum nobis, Ecclesiastes, 
 antiquum sane et rugis venerandum; cur apocryphus 
 ▼is esse ? cum ipsa Pontia pontifice canonicus jam 
 maxime sis et rubricatus. Quin etiam hinc critici, 
 inde antiquarii ad fores te inclamant; tui videndi desi- 
 derio ardent. Emanavit, nescio quo pacto, novas 
 quasdam inseriptiones Gruterianas apud te esse ; alii 
 Arabicas, alii Coptioas aiunt; qui verius, Ponticas ex 
 terra Taurica. Omnes uno ore consentiunt pulcherri- 
 mas esse oportere, utpote in sere frontis tute tarn gra- 
 phice, Pontiano prtesertim onjche, insculptas. Nemini 
 respondet Morus, omnibus negatur, spernit omnium 
 desideria; etdclibutus unguentisdomi, literas dediscere 
 Pontianas mavult. Hoec habui. More, quoniam te 
 inecum jocandi cupidum animadverti, quo ego tuum 
 de me triumphum velut militari carmine exornatum 
 Tolebam. Quidni enim pugnas tuas tum maxima com- 
 memorarem ? quanquam palma quidcm erat Pontite ; 
 ilia tibi lemniscos tantummodo reliquit. Etenim quod 
 tuum non est, tibi non attribuo ; tametsi tu id toto 
 libro, quasi absurdum meum insectaris, oblitus te pro- 
 curatione et chirographo tuo fidejussorem mihi factum; 
 oblitus, quod ol's alienum tu esse dicis, id nunc legitime 
 non minus tuum esse, quam cujum tu esse dicis. Tu 
 itaque cuecitatem cyclopeam mihi exprobrasti ; et quod 
 impudcntius est, dum id negas fecisse, iterum facis : 
 Qui nulli tum fuerant oculi, nunc "exemptiles" et 
 " Lamiarum" sunt. "Narcissus" nunc sum; quia 
 te depingcnte nolui Cyclops esse ; quia tu effigiem 
 mei dissimillimam, " prtefixam poematibus" vidisti. 
 Ego vcro si inipulsu et ambitione librarii, me imperito, 
 scalptori, proptcrea quod in urbc alius eo belli tempore 
 non erat, infabre scalpendum permisi, id me neglexisse 
 potius eam rem arguebat, cujus tu mihi nimium cultum 
 objiciis. Tu itidem is es, qui clarissimum virum, Con- 
 silii Status tum praesidem, contumeliis incessisti ; de 
 quo iratior, quam de meipso, quiesivi ex te quid aliud 
 esset calumniari perpetuo bonos, quam esse diabolum. 
 Hinc tu pulchram nactus hypocritandi occasionem ex 
 Crantziana videlicet calumnia, quasi ego " Christi 
 doctrinam de divortio quemadmodum a theologis expli- 
 cari solet, diabolicam" dixissem, qui ater modo eras et 
 roalediccntissimus, nunc albus repeute factus, et mitis et 
 patiens " agis gratias," quod " te communi cum coelesti 
 doctrina convitio honestem." — Hyaena! aut siqua alia 
 est bellua, tam tetra fraude noxia atque infamis; tune 
 coelestem doctrinam tot tuorum facinorum asylum atque 
 perfugium speras fore ? Sed perge quo tendis : si enim 
 theologorum quasvis explicationes pro ccelesti doctrina 
 amj)lccteris, toto ccelo, ut te dignum est, erras. Quin 
 
 et Apostoli gloriosum illud cum bestiis pugnandi mar- 
 tyriura tibimet tribuis nequissime; qui nuper non 
 homo cum bestia, sed ipse bestia cum homine, id est 
 cum foemina, de fide connubiali abs te rupta pugnam 
 tam inhonestam pugnasti. Reversus deinde ad mores 
 pristinos, solitamque jactantiam, dicendo me provocas. 
 "Neque vero," inquis, "mihi tantum derogo, quan- 
 quam nihil arrogo, ut te conimodius aut faciliiis quam 
 me putem posse dicere." Concedo equidem, si tibi 
 istum in modum furari licet: hoec enim ipsa verba, 
 quibus copiam tuam venditas, ex orationc MarciTullii 
 pro Roscio Amerino apertissime furatus es. Atque 
 hinc puto est, quod Francofurtanas nundinas librorum 
 tuorum catalogo tam copioso nobis obtrudas cum edi- 
 torum tum edendorum: ex quibus aliqui sunt quos 
 videre gestiam ; et imprimis ilium " de gratia et libero 
 arbitrio," ad amicam prsesertim illam si seriptus est, 
 cujus tu nunc gratiam, rejecta pro arbitrio Pontia, 
 accommodato forsitan argumento ambis : tum ilium 
 " de Scriptura sacra," quorum scriptores multa huma- 
 nitiis et imprudenter scripsisse ferunt te afRrmare : 
 illam deinde " pro Calvino," quem tu veluti pro- 
 phetam extructo monumento Phariseeus exornas, vita 
 et moribus jugulas: nam quae "prodibunt" opera tua, 
 quae " premis et retractas, et ad umbilicura spectantia 
 moliris," ea merito suspicantur omnes esse turpissima. 
 Illam " de piis fraudibus dissertationem" sane ex- 
 pecto : nam de impiis abs te factis fraudibus abunde 
 audivimus: enim vero "Commentarius ille tuus," qui- 
 nam sit in quintum "Evangelium" futurus demiror ; 
 nam ilia quatuor priora jamdudum factis abnegasti : 
 unde et " Theoremata ilia practica" mir^ desidero, 
 nam tu in practicis egregius homo sine controversia es ; 
 id quod de te tot fabulse non fabuloe testantur. Ad ilia 
 autem " loca Novi Foederis, et axiomata quibus ex Veteri 
 Novum Foedus illustratur," Pontiae quoque notas vel- 
 lem simul ederes. Et postremo isthuc memineris, te 
 alterum volumen operura tuorum, quod Genevaj in 
 bibliotheca publica etiamnum extat, totum omisisse : 
 uti etiam inseriptiones illas, cum frontispicio mirabili, 
 quas quamvis opus Pontianum, in tua tamen membrana 
 tuas esse, adstipulante etiam Justiniano, recte dixerim: 
 nam noctes tuas, nescio an Atticas cum Pontia, sive 
 dialogum morillum, alii spurium, alii duutaxat enibry- 
 onem, qui subtiliiis non inter libros, sed inter liberos 
 tuos numerandum existimant. Sed properabas credo 
 ad alteram instituti operis partem, calumnias meas. 
 Nam mendacia, id nempe unicum, quod te authorem 
 Clamoris dixerim, partem tui operis longe maximam 
 tandem aliquando confecisse te significas. Cum autem 
 leve hoc merito cuiquam videri possit, etiamsi falsa 
 aliqua persuasione imbutus attribuissem tibi librum 
 istum, alioqui nee improbatum tibi, nee tua existima- 
 tione indignum, cur unam tantummodo noxam tam 
 verbose tam iracunde summa cum invidia rei per se 
 levissimae sic exaggeres atque exagites, perinde quasi 
 in se omnes impietates et ciimina complecteretur, nisi 
 jam antea docuissem, id magis mirandum possit cui- 
 quam videri. Sed ea nimirum arx erat unica, in qua 
 spem omnem collocaveras ; si persuasisses plerisque te 
 authorem Clamoris non esse, meque raentitum, in altera 
 
740 
 
 AUTIIORTS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 parte qiiam de caliimniis vocas, de qiiibus quod pro te 
 dicas nihil prorsus liabes, sperabas tc facili defensione 
 iisuriim contra me scilicet mendacem jam antea com- 
 pertum, teque omnes vitte maculas apud longinquos et 
 ignotos bac arte gratis eluiturum. Verum ego cum 
 pneter spcm opinionemque tuani te autborcm Clamoris 
 tergiversantem licet et reclaniantem legitime argue- 
 rim, non diibito quin ad Hagitia qiioque tua, et quas 
 tu calumnias dici mavis, accuratiiis prout res feret exe- 
 quendas aptid omnes rerum apquos a>stimatores iidem 
 integram attulero. Nunc quam frigide, quam invite, 
 quam plane sontis in morem vafri ac vctuli has abs te 
 dictas calumnias trades, quamque infceliciter amoliri 
 abs te coneris, reliquum est ut ostendam. Primum 
 cunctabundus, et incerto pede a prioribus castris in haec 
 altera cum multis impedimentis eegre et ne vix quidem 
 transis : quippe i mendacio non ad alterum mendacium, 
 id enim non audes dicere, sed ad " calumnias" dun- 
 taxat et " rumusculos." Itaque ad mendacium illud 
 toties jactatum, modo dimissum atque prteteritum per- 
 petuo recurris, cum pnesens arguere, siquod esset, de- 
 beres: et adversarii quod miserum est, quam tui secu- 
 rior, in illo errore, quemadmodum credi vis meo, quam 
 in tua nunc apud te recta conscientia multo plus repo- 
 situm tibi spei atque pransidii declaras. Atqui non 
 meo, siquod fuit, mendacio, sed tua de veritate, siqua 
 fuit, munire debuisti. At enim " aulboritate propria 
 meras calumnias intento, quas nulio argumento probo, 
 nallo teste confirmo." Vis igitur dicam apertius rem 
 ipsam ? nam te, ut video, prie ista mollitie frontis non 
 perfrictae, sed inscriptae modo, pudet dicere ; qui ne 
 stuprum quidem aut adulterium toto responso nominare 
 homo pudentissimus et tlos castitatis ausus es, ne " va- 
 iiissimam fabulam" scilicet et obscoenam, id est tua 
 facta " retexeres." Dicam ergo, et quia non abnuis, 
 rerum ordinem sequar. 
 
 Est Claudia Pelletta quaedam, pellicem posthac nonii- 
 nemus licet, nescio an tuam soliim ; quae, cum ancilla 
 in eadem domo honestissimi viri Genevensis esset, in 
 qua tu hospes eras turpissimus, cum calone et rhedario 
 communis tibi fuit. Ea muliercula, postmodum nupta, 
 quod stupri tecum habueratcommercium adulterio con- 
 tinuavit. Cedo " testes," inquis, et " argumenta." Nu- 
 gator ! quid tu testes ex me ubi non sunt, quaM'is, quas 
 ubi erant, fugisti ? Genevam reverterc, ubi borum cri- 
 minum jamdiu reus factus es. Die velle te modo abo- 
 lendae calumnise causa judicium bis de rebus legitimum 
 fieri ; invenies qui tecum libentissinie his de criminibus 
 experiri lege velint; qui vadari, qui sponsioncm facere 
 non recusent. Nee testes deerunt. Aderit imprimis 
 Hortulanus ille qui te vidit, cum in illud tiiguriolum 
 cum fteraina solus intrares; vidit, cum ilia Claudia tua 
 clauderet fores; vidit poslea egressum te, amplexantem 
 palara cum muliere impudica, et usque eo petulantem, 
 ut ilium veterem hortorum custodcm obscoenum, non 
 ex ficu, ut olim, sed ex moro factum conspexisse ex- 
 istimaret. Adcrunt et alii quos viri gravissimi, qui 
 tuum nomen detulcrunt, testes in promptu habent. Cu- 
 jus tu tcstimonii vim veritus cum dimanasse rem illara 
 sentircs quam in occulto patrasse te arbitrabaris, ut in- 
 famis ille reus Siciliensis, non jam quid responderes, 
 
 sed quemamodum non responderes, cogitare ccepisti . et 
 pauIo ante ferox judiciique cupidus (nam de aliis quo- 
 quc mullis rebus et antea et turn etiam deferebaris) de- 
 missus repente et consternatus, abeundi licentiam (id 
 quod plerique maxime volebant, ne in rem tam fnedam 
 de pastorc suo inquirere cogerentur) quasi jamjam 
 abiturus petisti. Per banc tu rationem liberatus judicii 
 metu, cum alibi nou haberes quo te reciperes, onini 
 munere cum Ecclesiie tiim Scboloe, omnique stipcndio 
 privatus, octo circiter vel decem menses in eadem urbe 
 fuedis factis notatus detrectata causae dictione vixisti : 
 quo nullum niajus argumentum contra te esse potuit. 
 Nunc posteaquam oblatum tibi certamen defugisti, 
 tuisque commodis carere omnibus, quam judicium de 
 ilia re pati maluisti, posteaquam tuo ipsius judicio 
 temet ipse damnasti, i me homine longinquo testes et 
 argumenta ridicule san6 quaeris. Quinimmo, ut dixi, 
 Genevam revcrtere; et quando vadimonium illud tam 
 male obiisli, i sodes ad supplicium quod te illic manet 
 adulterio debitum ; si pristina illius urbis religiosissi- 
 moe disciplina nondum refrixit. Ad ilia vero sponsalitia 
 stupra tu quod attinet cum Pontia, quae te ubique de- 
 cantatum et digito monstratum insignem homineni illis 
 in provinciis reddidere, multo minus est cur a me 
 " testes" et " argumenta" postules. Famam ipsam 
 communem, constantem, et ilia centum vcl potiiis niille 
 ora, si vis, in judicium voca: btec totidem sunt testes 
 quibus si in foro stepe creditum est, cur ego de advcr- 
 sario publico non crederem.'' cur ego solus quce in ore 
 omnibus et sermone sunt, adversarius tacerem ? sed 
 nee testes hie mihi, nee justo numcro, nee literte desunt ; 
 in quibus literis et libidines tuse et ilia perjuria quorum 
 ope elapsus ex judicio es, cum horrore ac detestatione 
 maxima narrantur. Sunt et muti testes qui etiam sine 
 voce testantur; ilia nocturna itinera quce Hagaconiitis 
 Leidam cucurristi ; illi noctumi et furtivi congressus 
 cum Pontia ; cum qua tu muliere per causani, ut aiunt, 
 impudicitiie divortium fecisti. Si tu earn parum pudicd 
 versatam interdiu cum aliis credidisti, cur alii te conti- 
 ncntiorem noctu cum eadem consuevisse crederent .'' an 
 expectas dum servulum tuum in te producam, nequitia- 
 rum tuarum diu conscium, donee, nondum plane aniisso 
 pudore, aufugere abs te in bonam frugeni conspectae 
 ipsis oculis libidines tute pudefactum coegenint? Opus 
 utique non erit servum ilium ad quaestioneni poscere : 
 Ipse detestatus tanta in Ecclesiastico homine flagitia, 
 late proedicat. Tu interim ut lectorum, si non aures, 
 at saltern oculos invitare possis, oratiuneulam nescio 
 quam infercis hie putfdissimam, historicorum more, 
 lunulis adnotatam, quasi acutissimam nimirum et lectu 
 dignissimani : non orationem, sed chorum quendam 
 Battologorumintroductum abs te aliquis putct; amico- 
 rum scilicet tuorum, hortantium ut " teipsum reverea- 
 ris;" ut" ungues tuos," quos tibi fatentur"nondeesse," 
 ad necessaria magis tempora, Pontianam credo alteram 
 dimicationem, velis potius reservare : niecum ne velis 
 " in arenam descendcre." Sed perdunt suam operam 
 aniici verbosissimi, sua monita pitcclara, tot curta 
 adagia, triviorum sjmbol.i, oleum nempe tuum Batto- 
 logiae professor : illis posthabitis me potius usus es con- 
 sultore adversario, ut responderes cum tuo raagno malo. 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 747 
 
 Non ut " tuum" eg-o " silentium in conscientiam ne 
 vciteiem," set! ut conscientiam tnara suo, quod optat, 
 silentio frui ne sinereni. Nam attendite qiiopso, et 
 cognoscite nunc, si unquam alias, hjpocritani numeris 
 I omnibus absolutum. Videt necesse sibi esse aliquid 
 ji pro se diccre; se intuetur, quamvis invitus; videt in 
 ,^ turpi prtEter turpe nihil esse quod possit responderi ; 
 circumspectat ecquid foris prope se refngii sit, ecquid 
 adminiculi quoinniti possit; ecquid quose tegere, sub 
 quo latitare ; ecquos in societatem et communionem 
 scelerum suorum possit atlrabere, ecqueni ordinem aut 
 genus honiinum suis privatis rationibus illigare, ut 
 causam suam quasi communem eommuni periculo et 
 alioruni existimatione defenderet ; nihil magis idoneum 
 invenirc potuit, in quod omne suum dedecus transferret, 
 nihil in quod deonerare spurcitiam suam commodiiis 
 posset, quam ipsam Ecclesiam Dei : " Si mea," inquit, 
 " proprie tantuni res ageretur, imponere fibulam ori 
 meo et obmuteseere poteram exeniplo Domini mei : 
 sed universus ordo noster, et Ecclesia Dei per meum 
 petitur latus." O scortum et ganearum antistes! cujus 
 non ori magis, quam inguini fibulam impositam opor- 
 tuit; quanto tibi prtestitisset obmutuisse, " exemplo 
 Domini tui," cui Christus Dominus silentium cum ca- 
 pistro imperavit, quam ecclesiam Dei hac tanta igno- 
 minia affecisse ? Ais " universum ordinem vestrum a 
 mclicet oblique stigmate notari." A me ais? die ubi; 
 recita,si potos, locum; nisi fort^quod ego in mercena- 
 rios, id tu in ministros Evangelii dictum putas. Erras 
 More ; et aliud fortasse multo justius baud absiniile 
 conquestus esses ; non ego vestrum ordinem oblique, 
 sed te extra ordinem tua pontifex et obliquo et directo 
 et transverse stigmate notavit. " Ecclesia," inquis, 
 " Dei, cui mea omnia lempora consecravi, per meum 
 petitur latus." Per tuumne latus turpissime ? qui tan- 
 tum abest, ut omnia tua tenipora Ecclesiae consecrave- 
 ris, ut ipsa Ecclesiae tempora, omisso nonnunquam 
 matutino concionandi munere, furtivis libidinibus con- 
 secrasse baud semel dicaris. Ne repetam quid etiam 
 temporis famosis libellis Ecclesiastes consecraveris. 
 Per tuumne latus? at nihil omnino est quod graviore 
 cum vulnere Ecclesiam petat, quam tuum ipsum impu- 
 rissinnim, Ecclesite tam male contiguum latus. Hoc 
 si vis intelligi per tuum latus, id est, per tuam turpitu- 
 dinem, propter tua scelera Ecclesiam opprobriis impio- 
 rum peti, macula aspergi, infamiam contrahere, hoc 
 quideni verum esse non diffiteor. Itaque universus 
 ordo tuus, et niinistri praesertim Gallici, qui te optime 
 norunt, ne tuo illo pestifero latere diutius periclitentur, 
 teipsum quantum possunt, tuique contagiouem amovere 
 ab se atque depellcre conantur : causam ullam aut ra- 
 tionem tuam communicatara sibi nolunt ; ne scelerum 
 tuorum atque dedeconim participes fiant : ejectum te 
 ex suo ordine, et exturbatum, ut meritus es, cupiunt; 
 et illam, quam ais " fibulam" ori tuo impudicissimo 
 affigere conantur. Macte estote integritate vcstra at- 
 que constantia, viri Ecclesia digni; prospicite, ut insti- 
 tuistis, Ecclesise puritati, existiniationi, disciplinve ex- 
 emplo : amovete a lateribus vestris immundum illud et 
 verriiium latus, cujus non solum ictu Ecclesia leeditur, 
 sed affrictu etiam polluitur. Nolite banc iudignissimam 
 
 contumeliam pati, ut is, cum flagitiorum suorum nomine 
 meritis conviciis atque infamia petitur, non se peti, sed 
 quasi is, quia coenum honiinis est, idcirco murus et 
 raunimentum Ecclesiae esset,per suum latus Ecclesiam 
 peti dicat. Abigite procul ab Ecclesia? septis concion- 
 antem lupum; vocem illam hircinam tot stupris et 
 adulteriis impuratam, populo verba danteni, imo ven- 
 dentem, idque e superiore, quod jactat, loco, ne siveritis 
 in sacro ccetu amplius audiri. Profecto si Ethnicorum 
 legibus, verbi gratia Solonis cautum est, nequis rhetor 
 turpitudine vitae notatus, civilem concionem habendi 
 ad populum, ne Atticorura quidem si disertissimus fu- 
 isset, jus baberet, additaque proeclara ratio est, plus 
 exemplo nocere turpcm, quam oratione quamvis castis- 
 sinia atque sanctissima prodesse, quo etiam nomine 
 Timarchus, vir inter primos illius reipub. accusante 
 jEscbine, damnatus est, quanto est iudiguius scorta- 
 torem atque adulterum tanquam Dei nuntium et minis- 
 trum, ad Christianum populum sacras habendi con- 
 ciones jus in Ecclesia perniciosissimum obtinere. 
 Nolite committere, ut magistratus Ethnicus, Deique 
 expers, religiosior atque sanctior in foro fuisse, quam 
 Christi sacra synodus in Ecclesia esse videatur. Nolite 
 vereri, quem iste scrupulum callidus injecit, si eum 
 quem approbastis, cui sanctas manus iniposuistis, cui 
 gregem Dei commisistis, pei-spectum nunc adulterinum 
 et spurium ejeceritis, nequis vestrum judicium aut pru- 
 dentiam desideret; neque enim Paulus hac in parte, 
 ut nostis, vidit omnia: illud veremini, si pastoris in 
 munere taleni retinueritis, neomnes non judicium modo 
 et prudentiam, sed religionem quoque et pietatem et 
 gregis denique curam in vobis requirant. Haec ad 
 pastores de te. More ; nunc ad gregem pro me pauca 
 dicam. " Patriae," inquis, " mese greges quipascuntur 
 inter lilia, nescio quam in invidiam vocas." Utinam 
 ne ista lilia, spinas esse aliquandosentiant; veriimnon 
 ego tuae patriee greges in invidiam, sed tuus Clamor 
 Regius ad societatem sui furoris vocare cupiebat. Quem 
 enim non irritassent istiusmodi opprobria ? " maxim^ 
 omnium Galli nostri reformati, non modo horrendo 
 facto perculsi, sed ejusdeni injusta in/'amia pressi, plu- 
 rimum allaboraverunt, ut parricidium et parricidas 
 cognoscerent." Htec et multa alia acerba quidem et 
 plane bostilia Clamor iste Gallorum sub nomine refor- 
 matorum, in nos clamitavit : ad quae omni respondi 
 solum, Gallis etiam reformatis impositam eandem olim 
 necessitatem fuisse, ut suum quoque Regem hostis nu- 
 mero haberent. Veriim ego incogitantior (quid enim 
 de me non fatear potius, aut non indictum velim, quod 
 Ecclesias Galliae reformatas, quas esse scio nobis om- 
 nibus charissimas, in invidiam vocare possit) incogi- 
 tantior, inquam, fui, qui isti insanissimo Clamori vocem 
 ullam Ecclesiarum aut fratrum interjectam esse credi- 
 dissem. Scimus eos quo sub regno vivant, quibus in 
 periculis, quibus in angustiis Evangelii causa versen- 
 tur; et tanien aniplum hoc sibi esse, si tueri sua que- 
 ant. Nos ut vel miuiniam nostra causa invidiam apud 
 suos reges aut offension; m susciperent, nuuquam peti- 
 vinius ; ut de nostris factis aut consiliis suum sensum 
 declararent, tametsi fratrum judicia plurimi semper 
 fecimus, tameu ne hoc iis periculum crearet, nunquam 
 
748 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 postulavimus; prenes eorum, noii sententias aut sufTra- 
 gia. prodcsse nubis censiiimiis, suani autern erg^a regies 
 fklent ex suo in nos odio verboruinqne acerbitate per- 
 spici aut probari non arbitramur. Multa deinde prse- 
 teris, " quae niinis meutn in relig'tone animum pro- 
 dunt;" et sapis : fac et illud quoquc praetereas, quod 
 " te hominetn sacris addictum " Cotyttiis, credo, aut 
 Isiacis, non Evangelicis (nisi addictum ita ut devotum 
 intelligis) " adversarium," quod ejfo mihi honeslissi- 
 mum duco, nactus sum. At cnim illi " qui diversum 
 a nobis in religione sentiutit,"sicenim tibi prospiciens, 
 Ecclesiae pnispicere videri velles, " ex ista fabula Ec- 
 clesiis nostris insultandi ansam arripiunt, quasi pati- 
 antur, ipsae qualia vul<ru turpia dictu sacrificulis ob- 
 jiciuntur suis:" et nierilo quidera, si patiantur, veriim 
 spes est, non esse passuras: salus cert6 unica rerum 
 est, si pati noluerint. Si enim patiantur, quoe tu in 
 me tela levissime conjecisti, ea in te ego acutissima re- 
 torqueo. " Satance triumphus paratur, scandalum in- 
 fimiioribus creatur, ininiicis gaudium, sociis dolor, 
 fidei damnum." Haec vera sunt non me accusante, 
 sed te impunito. Talem esse quenquam in reformata 
 Tidelicet Ecclesia ministrum adversarii gaudent: accu- 
 sat aliquis? multum, mihi crede, de isto gaudio pro- 
 tinus remittunt: damnalur is incorruptis et integerrimis} 
 Ecclesiarum suffragiis ? Nihil asque dolent: nam qui 
 presbyterum reformatum flagitiorum incusat, accusal 
 idem sacerdotes omnes et sacrificulos eorundem facino- 
 rum sibi conscios : qui ilium absolvit, hos multo faciliiis 
 absolvat necesse est. Frustra nos quidem opinionum 
 quarundam et dograatum, frustra etiam fidei reforma- 
 tionem g-loriamur, nisi niorum sancta censura paritcr 
 quoque vigeat. Non doctrinam tantum reformatam, 
 sed doctores reformatos esse convenit, si ereptam "sa- 
 crificulis," ereptam " Satante insultandi ansam" cupi- 
 mus. " Magnum," ais, " honorera habere me ordi- 
 nibus Foederati Belgii, quos indigere putem notore 
 me:" nionitore opinor volebas dicere. Immo vero tu 
 illLs quem houorem habuisti? quorum existimatio gra- 
 vissima tarn apud te parum potuit, ut eorum de te 
 opinionem fallere turpissime malueris,quam iiagitiosam 
 vitfiB tuse licentiam refrsenare ; quique ejusmodi homo 
 cum sis, arrogare tibi tantum potes, ut existimes tot 
 viros graves atque prudeutes te "notore," etiam "e 
 superiore loco" indigere; tuo "adnionitu" posse un- 
 quam sapere ; ut idcirco os tuum e suggesto importu- 
 nissimum tantce gravissimorum hominum frequentiic, 
 et praesertim sacrte concioni oflTercndum sit. Qui 
 denique apud quos tanto te in pretio esse dicis, iis 
 nihil aliud nisi aut minimum judicium, aut maximam 
 doctorum penuriam rclinquis. Minimum profecto ipsi 
 sibi bonorem habent, qui abs te doctore et Ecclesiaste 
 meliores discedere se posse crediderint. Veriim tu 
 nibiluminus buccam iiiflas : " Quid nunc, inquis, me- 
 morem tot illustres ac principes viros, tot proceres, tot 
 Ecclesias, tot academias, quce me fovent et omant, vel 
 optant et exambiunt." Et ego, quid, inquam, nunc 
 memorem tot agyrtas, tot empiricos, tot seplasiarios, 
 tot circulatores, quos Romse aut Venetiis iisdcm pcn6 
 verbis suas pyxides et ])harmaca vendentes, prietericns 
 audivi. Atqui " dum bsec scribo," inquis, "literas 
 
 accipio quibus ad Ecclesiastee ordinarii munuset sacrte 
 theologiie professionem invitor in urbe nobilissima." 
 Nam hoc cert^ habts, in quo omnes doctores circuiii- 
 f'oraneos ventalitios ambitione supcras. Primum pi i 
 amicos tui similes occultam das operam, ut quot pot< 
 ex locis iuviteris: posteaquam id difficile repertum est, 
 ex quo jam passim notus es, hue solum (qute tuaanimi 
 egestas atque mendicitas vera est) niiser^ contendis, et 
 nonnunquam perficis ut omiiino invitcris, quamvis ea 
 discrta lege et pactu interposito, ut omnino ne venias. 
 Hoc modo invitatum te nuper in Galliam, et ni fullor, 
 Montalbanum, invitatum et Franekeram, vel Groning- 
 hani intelligo: Harum utram in urbem san6 nescio, in 
 alterutram sat scio: de loco enim fateor nondum satis 
 liquere, de re satis. Hanc demum ralionem excogitare 
 coacti sunt homines importunitate tua fatigati et victi, 
 qua et abs te simul tanquam a peste sibi caverent, et 
 tuae misertB gloriolae multo cum risu vela pandercnt; 
 teque erraticum sophistam et planum tuismet ventis 
 ludibrium commendarent. Sed ne cui forte vanior 
 quam mendacior esse videaris, in illud nunc incidinius 
 usitatissimum tibi et impudentissimum artificium quod- 
 dam tuum maledicendi simul et maledicentiam vitupe- 
 randi. Quoties enim strenu^ conviciando vel ad ino- 
 piam vel ad ravim, quasi ad incitas redactuses exhausto 
 penu, dum novum virus coUigis, subito bonus et bellus 
 abhorrere te fiugis a conviciis omnibus: nolle te scili- 
 cet " luto ludere," nolle "sordesmihiregerendo manus 
 tuas coinquinare; non placere tibi de cane latrante 
 victoriam;" malle te " omittere latrantem caniculam." 
 Quid haec quseso nisi convicia sunt? quse dum depo- 
 nere te dicis, totis viribus iutorqucs; ita caudam alte- 
 rere et simul ringere idem tifbi est: idque ipsum agis, 
 dura agere te negas ; usque eo totus ex mendaciu con- 
 flatus, ut ne verax quidem utrovis modo sine mendacio 
 esse possis: si enim negas te nuuc maledicere, quod tu 
 negas, verba ipsa, te invito, fatentur; si fateris, tua 
 eadem verba id ipsum, quod fateris, negant. Quid est, 
 si hfec non est "maledicendi ars" ilia, quam tu 
 " DaRmonum Rhetoricani" infamis libelli editor " vo- 
 care te" ais " solere ?" Sic tu nimirum homo sanctus et ; 
 veriloquus, "Christum didicisti et doces:" id est, dum 
 latrare te negas, mordes. Tibimet tarn aperte mendax, 
 in me ut sis religiosior, non expecto : tentas, ut video, 
 omnia, captas omnia; siquem fort^ rumusculum, aut 
 susurrum aquilones cum fugitivis famigerantibus ad 
 vos perferunt, aures arrigis: Hinc illud, "non is es," 
 inquis, "dequomentiri faraa vereatur;" minus quidem 
 tu hie subdolus es, quam soles. Famani etiam men- 
 dacera mihi minitaris ; dici nempe "me aliorum iu- 
 geuia ex moribus meis testimare, nulli non vitio quod 
 insequor obnoxium." Ergo ego scortator, ut fama men- 
 titur, ergo adulter; haec enim in te criniina inscctor. 
 Fac san^ periculum famae; age, insimula, die, si- 
 quid babes, audacter et clare ; tempus, locum, no- 
 niina simul edc ; quod ego in te facio. Die cum qua 
 Claudia Pclletta, die cum qua Pontia, die siquo in horto, 
 siqua in domo, noctu an interdiu, sirjuod in judicium 
 adductus unquam sim, siquod unquam recusaveriui : 
 h:ec tibi omnia dicenda sunt, haec ego in te omnia dc- 
 monstravi. Invenies profecto me ad injurias meas 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 749 
 
 ! tuaque crimina persequenda attulisse banc dicendi li- 
 bertatem, et anteactoe vitae mefe certissimum indicium 
 atque fructum, et agendas posthac firmissimura propo- 
 situm. Nunquam me libertatis hnjus poenitere audies, 
 ut Lucium Crassum poenituisse olim ferunt, quod Caium 
 Carbonem unquam in judicium vocavisset; cum hac 
 sua severitate preecisam sibi aut circumscriptam in 
 posterum liberius vivendi veniam apud omnes arbitrare- 
 tur. Is Caium Carbonem civem improbum in judicium 
 senatus populique Rom. vocavit: ego te, More, et meo 
 et pop. Anglicani nomine, quem tu infami Clamore 
 edito prior lacessisti, illo Carbone multo nigriorem, 
 judicia patria detrectantem, saRculorum omnium judi- 
 ciis trado. Quid tui interim famigeruli de me mussi- 
 tent aut loquantur, unice securus. Tu senties earn 
 esse vitae meae et apud me conscientiam, et apud bonos 
 existimationem, eam esse et prseteritie fiduciam et reli- 
 quse spem bonam, ut nihil impedire me aut absterrere 
 possit, quo minus flagitia tua, si pergis lacessere, etiam 
 liberius adbunc et diligentius persequar ; toque simul 
 tuasque etiam famae quas meditaris corruptelas et per- 
 spexero facile et risero. Interea, ne cui dubium sit, 
 quin tu omnia pervestigando nihil prorsus in me ha- 
 beas quod verum crimen sit, aut si haberes, quin ad 
 cupidissime statim et malitiosissime diceres modisque 
 omnibus amplificares, videamus quam nou crimina quoe 
 sint, des crimini ; etiam recte facta quam odiose calum- 
 nieris. Primum " cur Clamori autoris anonyrai respon- 
 derim" quaeris, " et non tot aliis qui nomcn cdiderunt 
 suum." Quis adversario tain aliena et inepta interro- 
 ganti rationem redderet? ego tamen ut quam cequani- 
 miter tecum agam, videas, reddam. Cur Clamoris 
 authori respondorim, rogas? quia jussus, inquam, pub- 
 lice ab iis quorum authoritas apud me gravis esse de- 
 buit : vix alioqui manum admoturus. Deinde quia 
 noniinatim lapsus : nam et tu hie, quamvis id minime 
 velis ut existimationis aliquam meoe quoque rationem 
 ducam, veniam vel invitus dabis, quam omnes boni 
 dant, scio, libentissim^. At cur " non aliis," inquis, 
 respondisti ? " Clamant et illi, nee minus fortiter : " 
 rursHs respondeo, ut prius, quia ad rationes publicas 
 non vocatus non accedo. Deinde, quia non Icesus; nam 
 et hoc, quamvis tu id maxim6 velles ut impune tibi 
 quenquam la;dere liceret, non est leve. Deinde quia 
 ex vcstro ipsorum judicio tantum Salmasio tribuimus 
 (quem dcfensorem Regium, quasi solus is esset et in- 
 star omnium, nominare soletis) ut post ilium posse 
 quenquam alium dicere quod momenti esset non exis- 
 timaremus. Visplura.'' quia liberum erat; quia non 
 vacabat; quia denique homo sum, humana mihi latera 
 sunt, non ferrea, tu licet Alexander aerarius sis. Aliud 
 quiddam opus est, ut mihi videtur, quo tot importunis 
 Clamatoribiis ora melius oblurentur. Quam multa tuus 
 ille Stentor anonymus clamitabat, quse a Salmasio cla- 
 mata prius et conclamata erant ? quibus ego toties 
 repetitis, quamvis cum'miseria ac taedio saepius respon- 
 dissem, tamen quia cum isto vociferatore verboso cer- 
 tare ubique non libuit, " languet" tibi scilicet " oratio 
 mea, quoties pro populo dico : " tibi, inquam, cui " Gal- 
 lica nive frigidius est" non esse tautologum. De me 
 si accuratius dixi, non eo id feci, quo ego minus po- 
 
 pulo quam mihi studerera, sed propterea quod tuus Cla- 
 mor tum quidem novum aliquid suppeditabat, unde 
 possem ab odiosa crambe vestra nonnunquam respirare. 
 Quod itaque facete inquis " non immerito Defensio pro 
 Populo secunda dicitur;" quoniam id faustum est, ex 
 ore praesertim adversarii, omen accipio. Tu licet no- 
 vum quotannis clamorera edideris, rumpas te prius 
 licebit, quam Clamorem secundum edidisse dicaris. 
 Alterum meum crimen est quod in laudes Reginae Sue- 
 corum serenissimae per occasionem ab adversario ipso 
 datam, digressus sum : et inter alia dixeram (satis mo- 
 destd quidem ut opinor) nequid adtribuerem mihi quod 
 Reginam contra Regiam, ut videbatur, causam, tam 
 mihi faventem reperissem, nescire me plane qua mea 
 sorte id evenisset : malebam ad sortem, ad sidera, ad, 
 siquis est occultus vel animorum vel rerum, consen- 
 sum aut moderamen, quam ad meum quicquid erat vel 
 ingenii, vel acuminis, vel copice referre videri. Hanc 
 tu calumniandi simul et parasitandi materiam nactus, 
 fremere exemplo, quasi indignum hoc esset; et " lu- 
 tum" illud in visceribus tuis concretum, in ore mox 
 tibi, ut frequentissime solet, fluitare. Age, despue ; 
 quid est? "eam," inquis, " propterea tam importun^ 
 iaudabas, ut cum ea te componeres lutum." Tune 
 Morus es an Momus? an uterque idem est? utro te 
 nomine appellem dul)ito : quis enim praeter Morum aut 
 Momum tam sinistra ac perperam interpretatus haec 
 esset? quod ullum dictum modestissimum haec tanta 
 malitia non depravaret atque perverteret ? Turn illud 
 simul depromis ex peculio tuo servile et parasiticuni ; 
 " nesciebat Christina se tibi esse tam familiarem." Te- 
 ne scabellum hominis ex tuis loculis et immunditiis 
 Christinae suggerere quid nesciat, aut quid dicat? atqui 
 sciebatse ilia pro sua singular! in literatos benevolentia 
 Salmasio familiarem ; cui me tamen arbitrio suo liber- 
 rimaque sententia baud semel dicta est praetulisse. 
 Sed " hoc unum," inquis, " Regina non meruit abs te 
 laudari." Abs te ergo illaudatissime ? concedo libens ! 
 quis enim obstare potest, si tibi modo libeat vel invitis- 
 simi cujusvis laudes contaminare? experire sane ; per- 
 sequere modo istud,quod veluti specimen laudationum 
 tuarum egregium hoc loco inseruisti ; " quam supra 
 mortalitatis modum inusitata naturte vis, et stupendum 
 ingenii lumen evexit." Perge, inquam, et macte isto 
 ore : ab isto exorsu quantumvis in sublime evoles per 
 me licet : isto enim tenore, si perrexeris, mirificum tu 
 quidem fastigium ac prope nubiferum tam altis sub- 
 structionibus impositurus videris. Mihi, fateor, non 
 placet sic alte insurgere ; unde statim necesse erit, vel 
 ridicule ruam, vel inter nubes frigescam. Attamen 
 "iis," inquis, "dotibus insignis es, quae possunt etiam 
 heroibus animum laxantibus placere." Esto ; sunt et 
 tua dotes et praesertim scripta, quae heroibus placere 
 quiddam aliud laxantibus, possint. Et in primis ista 
 tua quae sequitur sapientissima et ministello te digna ad 
 typographds conciuncula ; quam ideirco praetereo : 
 nam ad tertium jam crimen meum perveni; quod 
 dixerim nimirum, uno cum famulo me peregre fuisse. 
 Crimen giave ; quo ego nomine baud uno in loco per- 
 stringor : id scilicet nefas erat meminisse, ne versifica- 
 tores vestri, qui ex egestate nescio qua emersisse me per 
 
760 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 banc rerum apud nos conversionem vcrsificabant, ceci- 
 nisse falsa reperireiitur. Jociini verohic tutiin,qiian(lo 
 haec tani rara avis est, non possum i)ra?tcrmittere. 
 Non equidem vobis " typofjraj)liis litem uiiqiiam iiiten- 
 derim, non certe mag'is qtiam illi servo qui Miltunum 
 euntem peregfr^ comitabatur." O Ionff6 et miser^ pe- 
 titum ! quid bac capitis cucurbita facias, ex qua, ut id 
 maxime labores, nullam salismicam potisesextundere. 
 Sed quietus homo et fugitans litium cs ; itaque non 
 meo sed ne tuo quidem servo intendis, qui domesticae 
 turpitudinis tuae fug-itivus, secretiora flajjitia et nefarias 
 libidines tiias divul<ravit. Quartum est, siquidem id 
 crimen dici meum debet, quod tuum est mendacinm, 
 "in eodem" scilicet *' libro, quern scatere," ais, " dis- 
 cinctorum nepotiim festivitatibus, ausum me censuram 
 ag'ere, et gravitcr concionari de republ. deque civium 
 officio." • Quis non g'ermanum te nunc dicat epicureum ? 
 cujus neque in moribus honestas, ncqiie in scriptis 
 urbanitas ulla reperiatur. Miruni non est si hoc nomine 
 facetiis otntiibiis iiifensior sis, cum quia negfantur tibi, 
 turn quia te pun<^iint : non mirum est, inquam, si tibi 
 tarn ulceroso sal omnis iuimicus est. Id mirum, pro- 
 fessor cum sis, cur mihi succenseas qui sic dilig'enter 
 salarium tibi euro. At vero quos tu "jocos e lustro 
 popinaque desumptos" falso ais (nisi desumptos ex lus- 
 tris idcirco dicis, quod te illic latitantem extraxerint) 
 eos si cacleri omnes non inhonestos aut illiberales, sed 
 honestos atque urbanos, tuamque putredinem perfricanti 
 sales concessos non neg-averint, tum quidem tuaprofes- 
 soris iusulsi ijfnorautia, ut persaepe alias, bine satis 
 manifesla est, qui id parumcoiiveuire dicas, quod Mar- 
 cus Tullius in oratore summum esse statuit, ubi de 
 oratione L. Crassi in Cn. Domitium summa cum admi- 
 ratione sic loquitur. Nee enim concio major unquam 
 fuit, nee apud populum gravior oratio, quam hujus 
 contra colle<f am in censura nuper, neque lepore et festi- 
 vitale conditior. Et paulo infra, id uni Crasso c(mti- 
 gisse ait, ut non solum venustissimus et urbanissimus, 
 sed et omnium gravissimus et severissinius et esset et 
 videretur. Quin etiam Platoni et Socraticis nihil 
 magis convenire aut decuisse visum est, quam rebus 
 interdiim severissimis intermistus atque inspersus lepos. 
 Hcec ego viris doctis et intellipfentibus quin et supra et 
 nunc denuo satis probaverim, non dubito. Te interim 
 non rcprehendo, qui " mollior," inquis "debuit esse 
 transitus a naso ad supercilium :" nam dig'itorum Pon- 
 tiee credo adhuc meministi, quam iste transitus abs 
 tuo naso ad supercilia minimi mollis fuerit. Foe- 
 licem te quidem, si hoc tum mulierculae persuasis- 
 ses : sed de oratorum transitiouibus. More, judicium 
 lontf^ aliud faciendum est. "At lefjes scribo," hoc 
 quintum crimen est, " quibus se teneat non populu> 
 modo, sed illi etiam qui me prseceptore nihil egent." 
 Quid tu mihi quo quis egeat, homo levissime et arro- 
 gantissime .'* tene " superiore ex loco" cjfcnt Frederati 
 Ordines concionatore, me ex inferiore. quod omnibus 
 ex fpquo civibus licet, nostri non tarn egeant libero 
 hortatore ? non est, More, cur ego me natum in mea 
 patria tam inutilem existimem, cum te in aliena tam 
 arrogantem videam; non est, quam ob rem te mercede 
 concionantem, quam me gratis moncntera rcctiora putem 
 
 pusse suadere. litre mea quinque sunt peccata mo 
 tifera ; nam illaseptem,opinor, conficere nequisti. 
 quo iutelligitur, inaniaquam fuerintqute" coiiiionasse 
 mihi te dicis, ciim siut tam levia, quae criniinerii 
 Nisi et illud fortd criminosum mihi vis esse, quod Deul 
 testeni iuvocarim; et certe pariim abest ut istud quoqt 
 in criminibus meis numeres. " Ilinc ilia," inqui 
 " niniium sane sollicita protestatio." Quirnam is^ 
 fuit. More ? audies vel invitus ; nee illam nunc recit 
 sed iisdem conceptis verbis (neque enim poenitet, et hi 
 etiam peregrinationem meam calumniaris) rursus Deui 
 testem invoco, me illis omnibus in locis, ubi tam mult 
 licent, ab omni flagitio ac probro integrum atque ii 
 tactum vixisse, illud perpetuo cogitantem, si boniinui 
 latere oculos possem, Dei certe non posse. Hire tibi 
 " nimium sollicita protestatio" est, More: cui non 
 magis sollicitum est, Deum testem invocare, quam in- 
 vocatum pejerare. Quam multi et quam niultis de 
 rebus te accusent, non ignoras : aude modo, si(|uid in 
 te ititegri, siquid incorrupti est, iisdem quibus ego nunc 
 preeivi tibi verbis, teipsum defendere. Die age in lime 
 verba : Deum testem invoco me ab omnibus illis flagitiis 
 quorum insimulor, integrum atque intactum semper 
 vixisse ; me neque Claudioe, neque Poutiae, neque ullius 
 omnino fceminoe stupratorem esse aut adulterum. Non 
 audebis, opinor, tametsi facile perjurus esse diceris, in 
 haec verba prnpeuntem me sequi. Verum si Dei non 
 audes, hominum saltem fidem implora. Genevam, in- 
 quam redi, permitte te illic magistratibus et populo; 
 die illis ut castum et innoccntem hominem, falso insi- 
 mulatum, deeeat : Viri Genevenses, uinltorum apud vns 
 et gravissimorum criminum aceusor ; si ita vixi,si inter 
 vos ita versatus sum, ut haec per idoneos testes et argu- 
 menta probari vobis possint, en sisto me ; legitinium 
 pati judicium, quod antea reeusavi, nunc non recuso. 
 Hoc multo minus audebis, sat scio: malis tergiversari, 
 ut supra dixi, malis aliunde perfugia et latebras et di- 
 verticula veterani scortatoris in modum quserere. Ve- 
 runtamen " honestam" fuisse illam " orationem" racam 
 fateris; sed " praecedenli parum consentientem." C'ui- 
 nam proecedenti obsecro ? vcllem recitasses : ego enim 
 aliquot retro paginis pro certo habeo, ne minimum 
 quidem obscoeni vestigium inveiiiri posse, quia tanto 
 intervallo de te nulla fit mentio. Quod siquem alium 
 locum intelligis, ubi in tua vitia sals6 animadversuiu 
 est, velim te scire, quicquid tu ex " Platone" detorsisti, 
 neque alienum esse neque inverecundum eodem in 
 libro cum acrimonia et sale (" profligati" enim " pu- 
 doris" verba nusquam illic reperies) etturj)ia inseetari, 
 et de " Deo cogiJare." Sane si oratoris pnpceptum hoc 
 verum atque honestum est, in eodem vultu convenire et 
 pudorem et acrimoniam, quidni itidem in eodem ore 
 conveniant .>* Nullius enim pudentis pudorem minuit 
 vehemens et falsa turpitudinis exprobratio vel etiam] 
 irrisio, sed pudorem, in quo prius non erat, impudentU 
 reo nulla res cffieaciiis ineutere videtur. Tu vide, 
 cum pudore et " cogitalione Dei" tua stare perpetujl 
 possint mendacia, Ecclesiastes adulterine; qui scn| 
 sisse me ais " Ilomae martj'rii fuis.se candidatumi 
 structas ab Jesuitis vitee meoe insidias." Ad quod 
 utrumque mendacium diluendum opus est nihil aliud. 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESTASTEN. 
 
 761 
 
 nisi ut quis locum ipsum libri inspiciat : et cur ea de 
 re aliquid omiiino scripserim, conjectura perse assequi 
 nemo facile non poterit, cui id modo credibile non sit 
 eum " ob flagitia in Italiam profug'isse," qui relig-ionis 
 ibidem coufitendae periculnm toties adierit. Nugaris 
 deinde multa, et " machaeras etlegioiies" garris Pontiae 
 mastigia. Verum hoec satis risimus : nunc luculentam 
 et insignem calumniam quaeso attendite ; ut cognos- 
 catis qua fide vel in sacris etiam literis, quas cum sum- 
 ma ecclesife ignominia profitetur, versari soleat ; quam 
 nulla isti falsario Ecclcsiastee religio sit verbum ipsum 
 Dei saciosanctum corrumpere, si id commodum sibi 
 fore crediderit. Ego ut refellerem eos, qui gramma- 
 tistae aut critico magni titulum et cognomen largiri 
 ineptissim^ solent, sic scripseram : Is solus magnus est 
 appellandus, qui res magnas aut gerit aut docet, 
 aut digne scribit. Quis hac veVissima sententia 
 ofTendatur, nisi grammatista? Quid bic noster pro- 
 fessor? id est, inquit, qui res magnas docet, " ut 
 Miltonus de Divortiis," aut digne scribit " ut Mil- 
 tonus idem pro Populo, bis magnus." Lepidum sane 
 interprctamentum, More ! et ejusdem plane artificii, 
 quo Evangelii etiam locum ilium de divortiis non 
 verbo, sed factis intcrprctatus es. Licet ob scorta- 
 tioneni dimittere vel uxorem vel sponsam : Morus cum 
 desponsata sibi Pontia scortatus est, ergo, licet Moro 
 sponsam ob scortationem dimittere. Vos " O tot Prin- 
 cipes, tot Proceres, tot Ecclesiie, tot Academiae, quae 
 hunc hominem fovetis et ornatis, vel optatis et exam- 
 bitis," evocate nunc certatim bunc vobis, quasacrarum, 
 qua profaiiarum literarum interpretem tam fidum et 
 religiosum ; ut sacras profanare literas apud vos qua 
 actis, qua commentis suis possit. Vel si id minime 
 vultis, nam doctorem hunccommentitiumlongelat^que 
 olfecisse jamdiu videmini, date saltem et concedite hoc 
 palpum tumori bominis et gloriohe : evocate quaeso per 
 literas quam honorificas ludionem hunc cathedrarium ; 
 sed cum hac cautione, si salvi esse vultis, clam inter- 
 posita, cum hoc urbanissimo interdicto, ut nullo modo 
 accedat. Miros profecto reddet ludos inter tot catbe- 
 dras, dum professiones et praelectiones et murmura et 
 plausns et Pontias novas sibi somniat. Sed dimitto 
 nunc hominem, quia me prope dimittet. Alio se ver- 
 lit ; imo vero " quo se vertat," non habet. Simulat 
 velle nunc de vita et moribus suis causam pro se dicere. 
 Exordiri jam putares hominem, et velle aliquid praefari ; 
 cum in ipso slatini praefationis vestibulo,elusa omnium 
 expectatione perorat. Tam tenue se esse argumentum, 
 tam turpe etiam dum reperit, vel ipsa rerum inopia 
 subito exarescit, vel ipsa foeditate perculsus et quasi 
 sideratus obmutescit: Vultus, vox, latera deficere vi- 
 dentur ; animus tamen veteratorius, et ut dixi antea, 
 indurati utroque jamdiu foro veteris et crebri sontis 
 artes non deficiunt. " Quo me vertam ?" quo te ver- 
 tas, miselle ? quis unquam nocens reus demissa barba 
 sordidatus et squalens tam miserabili prooemio depre- 
 catus unquam judices est? quo te, si innocens, si in- 
 sons, si tutus undique tibi esses, quo te, inquam, nisi 
 ad te verteres ? tecum loquerere, te consuleres, extra te 
 ne quaereres ? Sed heu miserum te ! discordia tibi 
 tecum gravissima jamdiu est. Nihil tibi invisum 
 
 magis, quam tecum habitare, apud te esse ; neminem 
 libentius, quam te ipsum fugis. Frustra: tecum enim 
 fugis miser, te sequeris : Quod agitat intus est, intus 
 et flagellum et tortor argus ille tuus, qui te semper non 
 " Junoniis," quod quereris, " artibus," sed piaculorum 
 tuorum oestro agitatum, cinctus mille oculis ac testibus 
 persequitur. Quid nunc agas ? nam aestuantem te 
 misere et pendentem video. An " tuas ipse laudes 
 vesanus decantares ?" vesanus profecto sis, si id sus- 
 cipias; vesanus, si id unquam cogitabas. " Vitamne 
 conscribas et facinora omnia tua i"' pervellem equidem ; 
 sed vcreor ne non " Morus," sed " Florus" nimium in 
 tuis floralibus, id est, multo brevior quam par esset, 
 futurus sis. Vereor ne invideas nobis tot lepidas fabel- 
 las, qui unam solum " retexere," hortensem nimirum 
 illam, tantopere gravatus sis. Sane qui illas lites Ju- 
 nonias omnes, qui ilia jurgia Salmasii praetermiseris, 
 qui praslium illud nobile Pontianum mihi tantis rebus 
 parum idoneo reliqueris, qui denique totam illam Pon- 
 tile Sestiada sicco pede prceterieris, praeteribis opinor 
 silentio Tibaltianam quoque illam, et illius nuper do- 
 mus calamitatem, ubi tu procax in ancillam, proditor 
 in herum extitisti: nam ancillis, ut videtur, quocunque 
 vadis, nullum abs te refugium est. Tacebituret vidua 
 ilia quam tu, solatii tum plenus, nunc inops, cum de 
 marito recens mortuo velle consolari prae te ferebas, ejus 
 pudicitiam tentasse diceris : Nee dices credo qua domo 
 egredientem te cum scorto intempesta nocte Amstero- 
 dami ilia mulier vidit; quae delinita primum pollicita- 
 tionibus tuis, mox decepta, novissime nomen tuum ad 
 presbyteros detulit; qui tuum nomen recipere, quod ob 
 priora facinora ejiciendum ex suo ordine et circumscri- 
 bendum statuebant, ne aucto scelere, cum augeri poena 
 tua non posset, augeretur ordinis infamia, recusarunt. 
 Quid ergo? " an quae fecisses uno cum servo itinera" 
 nocturna ilia nempe Hage Leidam " posteris nar- 
 rares i*" ne hoc quidem sat scio, voles : verum ilia ser- 
 vus ipse passim copiose narrat, et permulta alia prae- 
 clare abs te gesta : caetera jam tritissima plurimisque 
 per ea loca testibus confii-mata. Age vero; post dubi- 
 tationem san6 miseram quae te perplexum tamdiu atque 
 suspensum tenuit, post tui fugam, quo tandem fugis? 
 quo ad extremum te recipis ? " fidei," inquis, " publicae 
 monumenta consulamus." Acta tua credo jam publica, 
 quae in bibliotbeca Geuevensium enumerata centum 
 prope articulis, tuorum scelerum monumenta posteritati 
 servantur. " A Geneva exorsus," inquis, " fabellani 
 nescio quam poetarum authoritate subnixam instituis." 
 Ferax tu quidem saeculum poetarum dicis, qui tot una 
 in urbe, tibique omnes infestos quaeraris ; nigrum te 
 aliquem oportet esse, ipsoque moro nigriorem, quem 
 tot poetae oderiut ; festivum quoque hominem, qui 
 quorum authoritas testium te jugulavit, eorum nunc 
 poeticam iniquiorem in te causeris. Verum ista te fes- 
 ti vitas nihil in hoc tempore adjuvabit. Permulti sunt 
 in ilia civitate viri honestissimi, nonnulli presb3'teri, 
 doctores, ministri, nescio an poetae, qui fabellam tibi 
 banc in foro agere cupiunt ; qui non sua carmina re- 
 citare, sed tua crimina pro testimonio dicere parati jam- 
 pridem sunt. Nemo sic unquam poetam recitantem, ut 
 tu hos omnes contra te testantes et fugisti et fugies. 
 
753 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 Adcone vero singular! impudentia occaluisti, ut insti- 
 tiitam in te legitime accusationem testatissimam, cujus 
 vim atque authoritatem cum sustinere non posses, dis- 
 cedciidi, et veluti in cxilium abeundi licentiam exo- 
 rasti, banc tu quasi " fabcllam nescio quam" eludere 
 et uno verbo leviculo sic amoliri abs te posse, existimes ? 
 At " permulli sunt," inquis, " in hoc Belyio, qui me 
 Genevse familiariter usi optimd omnium norunt quam 
 non ibi nullo in pretio fuerim." Audi igitur quae sint 
 honestissimorum hominum de te judicia prim6 Genevae, 
 deinde in Belg'io. Duorum verba ipsa ex literis de- 
 sumpta, in medium proferam. 
 
 Literee Genevee datse pridid Id. Octob. 1654. 
 
 Mirari certe nostrates satis non possunt, ita te interiora 
 i^oti alias hominis nosse, tam nativis coloribus depinx- 
 isse, ut ne ab illis quidem, quibus familiarissimd usus 
 est, tota hominis bistrionia vel certius vel felicius po- 
 tuisset adumbrari : unde hserent merito et ego cum 
 illis, qui fronte avaiaxwroc licet homo et oris improbi, 
 in publicum rursus theatrum prodire sit ausurus. Illud 
 enim summum foelicitatis tuee hac in parte compendium, 
 quod non vel ficta vel ignota alias hominis scelera at- 
 tuleris, sed quse omnium et amicissimorum etiara ore 
 decantata, integri coetus authoritate et assensu, immo 
 plurium adhuc scelerum accessione luculenter possint 
 corroborari. 
 
 Et infra. Credas velim vix ullum hie reperiri am- 
 plius, ubi multos annos publico raunere, sed cum summo 
 hujus Ecclesise dedecore functus est, qui prostituti 
 pudoris honiini patrociniuni suum vel audeat vel sus- 
 tincat amplius commodare. 
 
 Haec sunt eorum voces, qui penitissime te norunt: 
 quam turpem tui memoriam Genevae reliqueris, hae lite- 
 rse, aliauque bene multse si proferrentur, docerent. Nunc 
 in Belgio aliisque locis qua fama sis, " quo in pretio," 
 cognosce. Viri probatissimi tibique noti non literas so- 
 lum, sed quoniam abs te prius nominatus, idque in tua 
 causa, atque laudatus est, nomen quoque edam. Is est 
 vir gravissimus Jo, nnes Durseus ; qui dum Ottoni sola 
 fide nixus interponit se, mecumque agit, ut innocentem 
 te scilicet missum facerem, non potest non fateri simul 
 quam longe alia de te caeterorum pene omnium ex- 
 istimatio, aliusque sermo sit. 
 
 Ex literis Duraei Basilia, Octob. 3. 1654. 
 
 Quod ad Mori vitia improbitatemque attinet, non 
 videtur Ottonus ita de eo sentire : scio tamen alios pes- 
 sime de eo loqui, manus ejus in omnes pene, manus 
 omnium in cum esse, plerosque etiam Gallicae synodi 
 ministros dare operam ut ei pastoris munus abrogetur. 
 Neque hic aliam Basileae reperio de eo hominum opi- 
 nionem, quam qute in Belgio est eorum qui eum mi- 
 nime amant. 
 
 O pulchrum elogium! quo tu omnium pene morta- 
 lium judicio Ismaeli hosti Ecclesiae, quam ministro 
 pacis et evangelii similior judicaris. Hunc tuae ubique 
 gentium existiraationis testcm integerrimum, si potes, 
 rejice. Mihi credulitatem desine objectare : " Nemo 
 omnes, neminem omnes fefellerunt," tua tibi verba re- 
 gero. Haec cum ita sint, perficiam baud multo ncgo- 
 
 tio, ut intelligas, quam exiguum tibi in aliis presi- 
 dium sit, cum tam exiguum tibi in tcipso fuerit. Quod 
 enim potest aliena fides testimonium de te aliis per- 
 hiberc, cum tua fldes perhibere nullum quod juvet 
 aut cui confidas, de temetipso possit tibi ? Et vidcte 
 quteso quam dissoluto animo, quam abjecto dcscrtor 
 sui et perfuga ad patrocinium aliente fidci ab se trans- 
 fugiat. " Neque vero," inquit, " tempus teram in eo- 
 rum sollicita refutatione, queecunque tu garris." Laudo 
 te Iteti animi atque jucundi, nihil tu niagis soUicite, 
 quam sollicitudinem ipsam vitas. Mea modo " nimis 
 sollicita" tibi fuit ad Deum " protestatio :" nunc tuam 
 non minus " sollicitam" putas tuorum criminum " refu- 
 tationem." Atque ego si duntaxat " garrio," baud 
 multam sane sollicitudinem tua refutatio desiderabit. 
 Ignavissimus profecto sis, aut male conscius necesse est, 
 cui tam facilis tuimetipsius defensio, tam gravis et 
 " sollicita" videatur : ineptus plane et ridendus, qui 
 nullum tempus inutilius terere te putes, quam in eo 
 ipso quod ad rem, siquid vides, et ad causam maxime 
 pertineat. Nam " quid proficiara," inquis, " si fabulam 
 banc penitus retexuero ? statim aliam ordieris." San6 
 quidem difficile id essetnemini ; neque denihilote urit 
 ista suspicio. Tanta enim tu solus fabularum sylva es, 
 ut ex tuis unius rebus gestis atque uequitiis suppeditare 
 centum triviis atque circulis unde multos in dies rideant 
 satis fabularum unuspossis. Atque adeo hujus fabulas 
 actum jam quartum peregimus : exit Morus; aliam 
 credo vult personam induere. " Ut semel," inquit, 
 " defungamur, quod fuerit Ecclesioe Genevensis, quod 
 civitatis illius de me judicium haedocebunt literae testi- 
 moniales, alia occasione datae." Ita est; ad elogia nunc 
 transit sua; actus quintus incipit; nova plan6 persona, 
 sed eodem tamen subtus latente Moro,prodit cornicula, 
 sed et ea quoque personata : miris nescio quot repente 
 plumis adscititiis atque coloribus ita indutus, ut pboeni- 
 copterus nescio quis potius, et exornati quiddam monstri 
 simile videatur. Aves Aristophanicas expoliasse homi- 
 nem diceres; sed mala ave, ni fallor; cum se non jam 
 fabulam agere, sed apologum iEsopicum in se verum 
 demonstrare nudatus intelliget. Cum enim hasce plu- 
 mas nee tuas esse. More, et partim obsoietas, queeque 
 sua sponte mox defluant, partim falsis coloribus fucatas, 
 partim dolo, malisque artibus surreptas docuero, dubium 
 non est, quin delusus abs te olim grex avium, nunc 
 factus certior qui sis, de repetundis plumis jure tecum 
 sit acturus; et ablato quisque suo, obscoenam sub phoe- 
 nice upupam non deplumem te modo, sed depygem 
 demum relinquat: Primse omnium " litenE Genevensi- 
 um testimoniales" cristam tibi erigunt: quas illi niuitu 
 niallent, sat scio, aut nuuquam tibi datas, qualis postea 
 erasisti, aut abs te nunquam prolatas. Semper ego 
 quidem de Genevensi civitate, pro eo ac debeo, honesta 
 omnia et sentire soleo et loqui : religionis cultum 
 purioris, primumque studium, in republica deinde 
 prudentiam, cequalitatem, moderationcm, constantiam 
 prop(^ admiror; qua se tam arctis finibus, inter vicinos 
 hinc inde poteutissimos et immincntes, sumnia in pace 
 ac libertate per tot jam annos conservat et tuetur: rcc- 
 tiusque in re vix mediocri et melius id agit quod civilis 
 vitee omnisprincipium atque finis est, idque populu suo 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 753 
 
 foelicius prsestat, quam siimmis opibus instruct!, summis 
 opinione hominum adjuti consiliis reges maximi servi- 
 enlibus praestant suis. De Genevensibus i^itur, quod 
 eorum laudem, et existimationem possit imminuere, 
 |non est ut quicquam velim aut queam dicere, etiamsi 
 de his Uteris testimonialibus ea dicerem,qu8eet ab aliis 
 dicta olim ipsi fatentur, et ad me recentius allata sunt. 
 Sed necesse non est ; non dicam igitur qua occasione 
 sint datan ; propterea quod ipse non hac, sed " alia oc- 
 casione" datas esse ait. Non quaeram, utrum sumnia 
 Ecclesise senatusque voluntas honorarium hoc Moro 
 testimonium sua sponte concesserit, an impudentissima 
 hominis postulatio, cum accusatus g'ravissimorum cri- 
 miiuim nequisset se defendere, ab iis duntaxat abstulerit 
 qui Ecclesice pastorumque communi existimationi per- 
 peram metuentes, amandare ab se hominem quoquo 
 modo malebant, quam heec publico judicio severius 
 perquiri, nee sine oflensa fortassis infirmiorum palam 
 agitari. Non dicam, id quod multi tamen dicunt mihi- 
 que confirmant, nee conventu frequenti, nee solito 
 conveniendi die datas hasce literas : ne id quidem di- 
 cam scribenti adstitisse Morum ; unde illud fortasse 
 " tralatitium," et " exambire" ex elei^antiis Mori selec- 
 tioribus tam in promptu erant ; et " rupta concionante 
 Moro subsellia, gemmtpque illae clarissimte ;" qute 
 omnia usque eo vel cupiditatem scribentis vel judicium 
 non {rrave si<fnificant, ut non solum nimio laudandi 
 studio laudes ipsas corrupisse, quod vitium ab eo qui to- 
 tius nomine Ecclesiae scripsit, quam maxime abesse debu- 
 it, sed indiifnissimum ornare dum studet, non tam vivum 
 decorare, quam mortuum et putentem illis odoribus dif- 
 fertum funerasse videatur. Non dicam denique ilia no- 
 mina in conventu subscripta non esse, circum vicos 
 cursasse Morum, et pastores domi singulos adortum, 
 quo sibi faciliiis hasce subscriptiones expugnaret ; 
 propterea quod erant in conventu qui reclamare, qui 
 intercedere, qui obsistere non desinebant, qui sese non 
 audiri {jraviter conquesti sunt. Nihil horum dicam ; 
 quod nonnulli tamen dicunt, etiam qui illo tempore 
 Genevse rebus illis omnibus interfuere ; multi aliis in 
 locis " Deiim honiinumque fideni implorantes atque 
 jurati" nulla se " simultate, sed officii" relig'ione com- 
 motos, bcBC dicere : adeoque illis literis fidera se ad- 
 jungere non posse; quorum inter primos virum sanc- 
 tissimum Fredericum Spanhemium, theologiie profes- 
 sorem et pastorem reverendum fuisse intelligo: Hoc 
 solum dico, hasce literas, quod idem de literis reveren- 
 dissimi viri Joannis Deodati est dicendum, ante sex- 
 ennium datas, multis postea maleficiis ab ipso Moro 
 obliteratas jampridera esse et antiquatas. Nondum 
 increbuerat Claudia, nondum hortus, et ilia, ad Clau- 
 diam nescio an cum Claudia, Mori suavissima cohor- 
 tatio : 
 
 — Poma alba ferebat. 
 
 Qui post nigra tulit Morus : — 
 
 Id quod viris proculdubio integ'errimis et honestissimis, 
 harum literarum subscriptoribus, quin imposuerit non 
 dubito. At postquam ilia cum muliere, primo ancilla, 
 dtinde nupta, occultari diutiiis consuetude istius nefaria 
 non potuit, factus iterum reus, cum honestam rationem 
 
 defendendi sui nullam inveniret, et manifestis in rebus 
 teneretur, fractusjam animo, atque id maxime veritus, 
 si judicium fieret, nequid in se g-ravius consuleretur, 
 quo ipso die pronuncianda de se sententia presbytero- 
 rum, deinde magistratuum erat, judicium declinat, 
 licentiam abeundi petit. lUi necessitatem banc rati 
 se hoc modo effug-isse, quam impositam sibi minimi 
 volebant, ut Ecclesiae ministrum tantorum scelerum 
 damnare, et in homine Ecclesiastico tam triste exem- 
 plum statuere cojjerentur, libenter assensere. Petit 
 insuper literas impudentissimus homo commendatitias. 
 Id vero postulare ab judicibus suis reum indign6 fe- 
 rentes, prorsus recusant : ita bonus ille tabellarius per- 
 manere sine literis ilia in urbe, omni munere exutus, 
 circiter decem menses coactus est : Etesiis credo sacri- 
 ficans, ut aliquam saltern auram commendatitiam ira- 
 petrare aliquo posset : Donee multi gravissimi viri ne 
 moram quidem ejus ilia in urbe ferendam rati, rursus 
 rem adducere in judicium cocperunt. Id autem ciim 
 ad novas lites, et, ut supra dixi, offensionem infirmorum 
 spectare videretur, consultius tandem visum est, quoquo 
 modo hominem ablegare : rursus itaque dant literas ; 
 " non frigidulas," quod antea dixisse me queritur, sed, 
 quod nunc dico, frig'idissimas ; non ut commendare 
 cuiquam mortalium, sed amandare ab se hominem plane 
 viderentur. Hoc si ita non est, More, postulo mihi re- 
 spondeas, cur superiores illas Genevensium literas, hand 
 uno nomine jam obsoletas, quoeque recentiora facinora 
 tua a me tibi potissimum objecta, ne attinofunt quidem; 
 quae ego vix attigi, ut minus mihi comperta, " blas- 
 phemias" nempe" tuas in Spiritum Sanctum," aliaque 
 opinionuni monstra uberiiis commemorant, cur et illas 
 in quibus parum sibi de te credi a plerisque subscrip- 
 tores tui queruntur, cur, inquam, illas utrasque in me- 
 dium protuleris, has novissimas de medio removeris ? 
 Cedo proximas hasce literas post alteram in te accusa- 
 tionem illam gravissimam ab aliis segerrime, ab aliis 
 facile, sed eodem tui removendi animo ab omnibus 
 concessas. Sapies opinor, non exhibebis ; non delec- 
 tant te istee literae ; ex quibus mutatam de te Geneven- 
 sium opinionem, refrigerata amicissimorum studia 
 manifesto perspicere possimus ; eosque his literis non 
 te laudatum, sed ab se, dummodo longissimd remotum, 
 quasvis in terras exportatum cupiisse. Hsec Mori fides 
 publica est; qua se in Ecclesiam credere, quam in Spi- 
 ritum Sanctum planius facit. Quae reliqua a me dicta 
 in eum sunt neque diluit, neque refellit, ne oppugnat 
 quidem. Sed quoniam, Vlacco fidejussore, tomum in- 
 super alterum fidei publicae promittit, in quo " virorum 
 aliquot insignium, senatusque et ecclesiae Midelbur- 
 gensis, et Amstelodamensis testimonia" dicentur, dum 
 voluraen illud, cudendum,puto, in Gallia, excudendum 
 Hag'ae-Comitis a Vlacco expectamus, aut ne expec- 
 tamus quidem, visum est de toto hoc genere testimoni- 
 orum pauca disserere. 
 
 Magnum eg'o ornamentura quidem virtutis testimo- 
 nium publicum esse fateor ; argumentum periude cer- 
 tum atque firmum longe abest ut existimem ; nam ut 
 illud omittam quod virtutis multo difficilior quam num- 
 morum spectatio est, hoc sane constat, privatorum pri- 
 vates mores, et prtesertim vitia ad aures gravissimas, 
 
764 
 
 AUTHORIS PRO SE DEFENSIO, 
 
 tot alioqui iiegfotiis occupatas, rarissime perfcrri. Et 
 testimonium publicum tam qui petunt, quam qui daiit, 
 boui juxta malique fcr^ sunt ; et petunt quidera mali 
 soepius qukm boni, faisa specie pruborum induti. Ut 
 quisqueoptimusest, ita minime testimonio eget alieno: 
 neque enim facit quicquam rir bonus ut noscatur, seipso 
 contentus. Si commendato est opus, virtutem semper 
 apud se habet commendatricem optimam; si defenso, 
 obtrectationibus nimirum et calumniis baud raro appe- 
 titus, eandem circundat sibi intcgritatem suam, et in- 
 victam recl^ factorum conscientiam ; quo veluti muni- 
 mento atque praesidio firmissimo, improborum hominum 
 et impetus vanos excipit, et tela frustratur. Contra 
 hie nostor omnia : non enim virtutem, sed opinionem 
 duntaxat ejus integumentum vitiorum, sibi compara- 
 verat : ut rctectus, ut deprehensus, abscondere diutius 
 improbitatem suam non potest, exors ipse fidei et nau- 
 fratrus ad alienam fidem se confert : quorum oculis 
 antea servierat, eorum nunc manus commendatitias 
 implorat ; et singulari quadam atque inaudita hacteniis 
 impudentia, quorum judicium experiri non audet, 
 eorum postulat testimonium. Propterea quod meamet 
 ipsius sententia damnatus turpissime discedo, quod 
 sententias vestras horreo atque defug-io, *']iteras" 
 queeso date innocentice, pietatis, pudicitise apud tos 
 meap, " testimoniales." Si haesitatur, si ambigitur, si ad 
 aliis denique reclaraatur rei vehementissime commotis, 
 quo non demittit se ? quo non descendit? circumcur- 
 sare, ambire, prensare, obtestari, et quo adire non au- 
 det, eo amicorum allegationes dimittere. Aguntur 
 fortunae hominis, agitur caput, existimatio, immo Ec- 
 clesiee, totius et sacri ordinis existimatio agitur. Ex- 
 pugnantur multi, partim fatigati, partim inducti,partim 
 veriti nequid istius ignominiae in publicum redundaret, 
 partim delictis ignoscere, literato parcere, laboranti 
 consulere suae bonitatis esse arbitrati. Ita tandem 
 victor iste laureatas literas aufert ; ita emendicata 
 quovis tempore vel occasione, non jam testimonia de se 
 publica, quop si fuissent ipse abolevit, sed sua de pub- 
 lico reportata spolia ad coronam venditat ; nee tam 
 laudes videtur suas, quam poenitentiam publicam cir- 
 cumferre. Quem enim non poeniteat prseconem sese 
 laudura ejus fuissc, qui ad omnes postea libidines tam 
 turpem sui auctionem fecerit: nunc ejusdem sese man- 
 gonem fieri, qui servus omnium nequissimus ministrum 
 se licitanti cuivis Ecclesiae ex hac laudum catasta ven- 
 dibiliorem, et sacrarum literarum miseris emptoribus 
 venalem se pretii quantiris professorem profitetur. 
 Nam vidcrint per Deum immortalem, qui ex istius vel 
 commendatione vel impunitate ignoscentes et bonos 
 haberi se postulant, ne ista bonitas in malum desinat; 
 viderint ne ipsis bonis fraudi sit. Cum necesse sit, 
 serpat latius, serpat ocyiis ista contagio pastoris in 
 gregem, doctoris in scholam ; atque in ipsos fortasse 
 bonorum istorum libcros, qui sophistse huic errabundo 
 et infami in disciplinam traduntur. Viderint ne tot 
 pigmentis illita atque ornata turpitudo, tanta bonarum 
 laudura jactura atque dispendio dealbata labes, spem 
 faciat et aliis, eamque mentem injiciat, posse se quoque 
 tutissimo hoc exemplo, eandem scholis, eandem eccle- 
 siis inferre personam, sine suo periculo cum summa 
 
 eliam commendatione improbissimam. Cogitent, qui 
 celari adversarios nostras niaculas putant oportcrc, non 
 celando sed eluendo maculas purgari : cclando apparcre 
 multo nianifcstius, et majorem indies fucditatem contra- 
 bere. Postremo viderint, ne Ecclesiastas hujusmodi 
 amovere ab Ecclesia tamdiu ncgligant, donee ipsa Ec- 
 clesia cum Ecclesiastis una amoveatur. San6 cum 
 apostoli praeceptum de Episcopo notissimum sit, eum 
 ab exlraneis etiam bonum habere testimonium oportere, 
 quid adversariis leetius aut triunipbandum magis potest 
 accidere, qukm cum legerint atque audierint, qui non 
 levi atque incerta, sed constante fama, summeque con- 
 sentiente, multis testibus, multis in locis flagitiosus 
 atque nefarius compertus sit, eum quasi Ecclesice lu- 
 men unicum et ornamentum collatitiis presbyterorum 
 laudibus, et multiplici commendatione publica decorari. 
 Quod bostibus nostris gaudium ne diutumum sit, pro- 
 videri non alia ratione potest, nisi siquis poterit ex- 
 emplo, reque ipsa demonstrare, nullum esse pestibus 
 hujusmodi in Ecclesia reforniata consistendi locum : 
 heec testimonia, has laudes tum olim datas, cum is, cui 
 dabantur, longe alius affectaret videri, atque esse nunc 
 perspicitur, ipsum nunc irritas et nequaquam suas 
 usurpasse sibi fraude pessima; et amicorum de se elogia 
 suo ipsius vitio abrogata, non ad vilissimas merces in- 
 volvendas, quo fato mala scripta solent fere perire, 
 sed ad foedissimas flagitiorum ipsius sordes integen- 
 das, pro involucris abusum esse. Ego certe in priore 
 ilia defensione, et publice jussus et privatim Isesus, nisi 
 siquam dicendo peperissem mihi honestam existima- 
 tionem, earn silendo araittere, et quasi vacuam posses- 
 sore, occupandam mendaciis et opprimendam relin- 
 quere maluissem, et patriae, et mihi simul, cum una 
 eademque causa esset, communem operam summo 
 studio impend). Nunc accusatis graviter ab eodem 
 quasi immeritum et innoxium hominem per calumnias 
 et mendacia infamassem, ut impudentiam illius redar- 
 guerem, innocentiam tuerer meam, et siquid vel antea 
 jam dixi commode, vel in posterum quod ex usu sit 
 dicturus sum, si non doctrinee ct ingenii laudem, fa- 
 mam saltem intcgram,etcolendae veritatis fidem affnrre 
 possem, ad contentionem banc per se minime gratam, 
 sed necessariam tamen, denuo descendi. Neque vero 
 est, si haec non essent, cur hujus operae aut poenitere 
 me, aut pigere quenquara alium, si ni conscium sibi- 
 met, debeat. Sane improbos vituperare, et bonos lau- 
 dare,quandoquidem hoc pnemii nobiIissimi,illud poenae 
 gravissimte rationem habet, et eeque justum et justitiae 
 prope summa est : quin et ad vitam ben^ instituendam 
 par fere momentum utriusque cemimus. Ita denique 
 cognatae inter se hae dute res sunt, unoque et eodem 
 opere absolvuntur, ut improborum vituperatio, probo- 
 rum dici laudatio quodammodo possit. Veriim ut jus 
 et ratio atque usus utrobique par sit, non itidem est par 
 gratia: nam qui alterum vituperat, duarum is unoj 
 tempore gravissimarum rerum onus atque invidiam j 
 sustinet, et accusandi alterum, et de se ben^ sentiendi. ' 
 Itaque laudant facile nunc boni, nunc mali dignos 
 juxta atque indignos ; accusare nemo libere atque in- 
 trepide, nisi solus integer, vel audet vel potest. N(k 
 qui adolescentcs tot sub magistris exudare in umbra 
 
CONTRA ALEXANDRUM MORUM, ECCLESIASTEN. 
 
 756 
 
 eloquentiam solemus, vimque ejus demonstrativam in 
 vituperation e baud minus, quam in laude arbitramur 
 esse positam, tjrannorum autiqua nomina fortiter san6 
 ad pluteum concidimus. Et Mezentium, si fors ferat, 
 putidis rursum antitlietis enecamus ; aut Agrigentinum 
 Plialarim tristi enthymematum mugitu, quam in suo 
 tauro, exquisitiiis torremus. In xysto uimirum aut in 
 pahcstra, nam in republica pleruraqiie tales adoramus 
 potiiis et colimus, et potentissimos et maximos et au- 
 gnstissimos appellamus. Atqui oportuit aut non in 
 ludicro primam fere aetatem umbratiles consumpsisse, 
 aut aliquando cum patrise, cum reipublicse est opus, re- 
 lictisrudibuSjin solemac pulverem atque aciem audere; 
 aliquando veros lacertos contendere, vera arma vibrare, 
 verum hostem petere. Parte alia Suffenos et Sophistas ; 
 alia Pharisaeos et Siraoiies et Hymenaeos et Alexan- 
 dros, veteres quidem illos, multo mucrone insectamur: 
 bodiernos et in Ecclesia redivivos coUatis elogiis lau- 
 damus, professionibus et stipendiis et catbedris, incom- 
 parabiles videlicet et doctissimos et sanctissimos viros, 
 ornamus. Ad censuram si fort^ventura est, sicui forte 
 persona et speciosa pellis detrabitur,si turpis introrsum, 
 
 immo vero si palam atque aperte facinorosus arguitur, 
 sunt qui bunc maliut, nescio quo studio, quove metu 
 adducti, testimoniis publice defensum, quam animad- 
 versione debita notatum. Mea ab bis fateor, quod ali- 
 quoties res ipsa jam docuit, satis louge disjuncta ratio 
 est : ut siquid adolescens in illo otio litcrarum vel prse- 
 ceptis doctorum vel meis lucubrationibus profeci, id 
 omne ad usum vitae generisque bumani, siquid tani 
 late possem, pro infirma parte mea conferrem. Quod 
 si etiam ex privatis nonnunquam inimicitiis delicta 
 publica animadverti et saepe corrigi solent, et advcrsa- 
 rium nunc non modo meum, sed pene omnium commu- 
 nem, bominem nefarium, reformatae religionis et sacri 
 maxime ordinis opprobrium, literatorum labem, juven- 
 tutis perniciosissimura praeceptorem, immundum in 
 sacris Ecclesiasten,impulsus omnibus causis justissima 
 vituperatione prosecutus sum, eo uecne cum fructu, 
 quo oporteat, viderint illi, quorum potissimum interest 
 exemplum in isto edere, me quidem spero (cur enim 
 diffidam ?) rem nequo Deo iugratam, neque Ecclesiee 
 insalubrem, neque reipublicae inutilem prsestitisse. 
 
 AUTHORIS AD ALEXANDRI MORI 
 
 SUPPLEMENTUM RESPONSIO. 
 
 Hanc ego defensiouem meam cum ante duos menses 
 hactenus parassem, ne consumptum forte biennium al- 
 terum in se profligando clamitet Morus, tanto cum de- 
 siderio Supplementum illud fidei publicee contra me 
 promissum expectabam, ut nibil mibi longius videretur. 
 Didiceram enim ex Vlacco perorante, recessisse quidem 
 in Galliam Morum, non tamen quiescere : sed vel diffi- 
 sum viribus Genevensium attritis, vel quod manu tam 
 exigua vix satis sibi instructus ad decernendum uno 
 proelio videretur, novum contra me exercitum, et quod 
 mirandum sit, Medioburgicorum et Amsterodamensium 
 in Gallia conscribere : Consules etiam et Scabinos mag- 
 na cum manu signisque infestis ad-ventare. Sero tan- 
 dem erepsere novre copiae ; sine quibus prima acies, 
 opinor, labare atque debiscere videbatur. Sed cur tam 
 sero, cur ab extemporali bomine tam tarde advenerint 
 siquis miratur, erant scilicet literse quaedam raortuorum 
 longo situ eruendae ; erant quoque subsidia haec con- 
 sularia tam gravis armaturae, mira itinerum ratione 
 ex Gallia," teste Vlacco, " trausmittenda : " Quid si 
 etiam ibidem conficienda ? quibus cum ipse Vlaccus, 
 homo cequissimus, ut habeatur fides non postulet, sed 
 quod " aequum et justum cuique videbitur," id ut " ju- 
 dicetur," sic omnino faciamus. " SufBcit Vlacco," 
 Supplementi bujus collectitii legato, lectorum " curi- 
 3 c 
 
 ositati," non incredulitati " satisfecisse," nempe fidei 
 publicse, ex Gallia in Hollandiam, quasi postliminio 
 quodam reversse, fidem defore uniuscujusque privatam, 
 baud ab re san^ suspicabatur. Primum boc velim uni- 
 cuique in mentem veniat, quod supra demonstratum 
 est, publica testimonia qua ambitione fere comparentur; 
 in re privata quid valeant ; quam saepe ballucinentur : 
 me deinde non ficta crimina in Morum, non ignota, 
 non obscura, sed vera, sed jam vulgata atque testata, 
 in foro denique et judicio agitata baud semel, atque 
 versata protulisse. Non igitur calumniate res nos, 
 non testes in se, sed suos esse judices intelligat Mo- 
 rus : id jure aequissimo ; quoniam ipse in nos prior 
 has partes sibi sumpsit ; nos ipse prior judicavit ; 
 suam in nos sententiam iniquissimam edidit. Pro- 
 latis autem utrinque testimoniis cur secundum eos 
 merito pronuntiemus, qui Morum gravissime accusant, 
 in causa est cum ipsius comperta in nos audacia atque 
 improbitas singularis, tum ipsius testimonii quamvis 
 " publica," tamen ambigua fides ; quae consuetis atque 
 tritissimis laudandi formulis prosequitur Morum, ob- 
 jectailli crimina ab accusatoribus tam multis non diluit. 
 Quid enim affert vel hoc supplementum. More, quod ad 
 rem pertineat ? Accusabant te Genevae gravissimi viri 
 Theodorus Troncinus pastor et theolcgiae professor, duo 
 
756 
 
 AUTHORIS AD ALEXANDRI MORI 
 
 ahi pastores Mermilliodus ct Pittetus multis opinor 
 testibus adductis ; accusabaut multoriitn criminum, et 
 commissi pripscrtim in bortu quodam probri turpissimi. 
 Tu bic contrii literas producis Deodali seiiis; qui ve- 
 nire ill coiiventiim jamdiu desicrat; ncc quid ibi ge- 
 reretur, nisi ex te tuisque fautoribus audire consuevc- 
 rat. Literas deiiide Sartorii, ne non sarsisse omni ex 
 parte causani tuam viderere; turn Gothofridi juriscun- 
 sulti, ne nun satis cavisse ; has omnes literas jam ante 
 scriptas, quuni hoec tua flagitia vel ad Ecclesiam dclata, 
 Tel amicis, ut solet, omnium ultimis, credibilia essent. 
 QuiB igitur a me tibi objiciuntur, horuni nihil negant. 
 Fac autem disertis verbis negasse : haudquaquam tamen 
 istorum negatio affirmatioue potior tot borainum probis- 
 simorum erit, quorum priesertim testium viiu ac verita- 
 tem cum sustincre non posses, petita subitu abeundi 
 licentia, non absolutus judicio, sed elapsus, evasisti. 
 Literis deinde Genevensiura non sine multorum gravi 
 intercessione atque etiam indignatione, ut supra dixi, 
 concessis, tu quasi Rheno amne lustratus (quo " devec- 
 tum te in Belgium" ais) et noxa omni ablutus, utcun- 
 que commendatus, mirum non erat si, convocata illic 
 forte synodo Gallo-Belgica, tanquam Mercurius quidam 
 novus Gallo-Belgicus, non tu quidem illuminatus, sed 
 combustus, ut fit, in synodo, ad tempus latuisti. Eas 
 autem literas cum supra dixerim fore, ut in medium 
 nuUo modo proferres, ne prioribus hie positis quanto 
 essent frigidiores perspiceremus, lepide tu quidem 
 " exemplar earum nancisci te non potuisse " causaris. 
 Quod autem dixi ad tempus, non semper latuisse te, id 
 facile constat, primiim quod in ilia ipsa sjnodo " tra- 
 jecti" ad Mosam habita, quo primiim appulisti ruraores 
 quosdam " contra doctrinam" tuam et " conversatio- 
 nem" illis in regionibus jam esse " sparsos," et sus- 
 piciones baud leves de te passim vel novas haberi, vel 
 veteres recruduisse, neque ita te iis absolutum, quin ad 
 alteram postea syuodum nova rursus commendatione 
 opus tibi fuerit, declarat, qutEsequitur Ecclesise Medio- 
 burgenae ad Campensem synodum epistola, declarat 
 etiam illius epistolae subscriptor primarius Joannes 
 Longus ejusdem ecclesiae pastor, qui tua tum quidem 
 larva inter alios deceptus, perspectis nunc demum et 
 exploratis moribus tuis, nunquam te nisi maximee con- 
 tumelies detestationisque causa dicitur nominare. Immo 
 verba ipsa tua declarant quibus fateris post seditionem 
 Midelburgi ortam, in qua amicus quidam tuus potentis- 
 simus dignitate excidit eos, qui post cum rerum potiti 
 sunt, in te non " aRqu6 propensa fuisse voluntate :" id 
 tu eorum ignorantia; assignatum vis, quibus tu thco- 
 logiae professor celeberrimus " non eeque familiariter 
 innotuisses ;" cum ad suspectos jam mores tuos revera 
 sit referendum. Quid enim ad te advenam seditio ? 
 qui sufTragiis omnium public^ accersitus non studiis 
 partium, sed bona fama ac diiigentia in isto munere 
 theologico tueri existimationem tuam notus aequo om- 
 nibus debehas. Hie tamen quaereris quod " ejectum" 
 te dixerim " ab Ecclesia ilia." Ego verd non " ejec- 
 tum " te dixi, sed tantummodo ablegatum ; idque non 
 de ipsa ejiciendi vel ablegandi formula, sed de volun- 
 tate eorum abs te jam alienata intcllectum volui. In 
 hoc non admodum errasse me testis esse potest vir, ut 
 
 audio, probatissimus, quem supra appellavi, Joannes 
 Ixingus ejusdem ecclesise pastor, qui nunc, inquain, 
 longi^ secus de te sentit et loquitur, atque primo scnsit, 
 cum in tuam commendationem " omnium nomine" sub- 
 scripsit; Testis est vir spectatissimus Joannes Duraeus, 
 qui non unam Ecclesiam Midelburgensem ejecisse te, 
 sed universam pen^ synodum Gallo-Belgicam ejectum 
 velle scribit. Erustra igitur synodi Groudcnsis actum 
 illud subjungis, quod factis recentioribus irritum fe- 
 cisti ; frustra, inquam, actum illud quod apertissiini te 
 mendacii coarguit : etenim illius synodi authoritatciu 
 idcirco adhibuisse te ais, ut " sciam omnia rite et 
 solemniter" in synedrio Midelburgensi de te " acta :" 
 ipsa synodus non rite, non solenniter haecesse acta, sed 
 " nonnullos defectus in modo agendi" notat. Vellem 
 scire illos defectus cujusmodi fucrint, cur tu Midelbur- 
 geusium testimonia sine nonnullis defectibus in modo 
 agendi auferre non potueris. Illud interea tenendum 
 memoria est, quibus cum " defectibus " Genevensium 
 testimonia adeptus sis: quanto revera cum dedecore, 
 quanto in speciem cum honore illi te dimiserint. Pror- 
 sus, quasi id unum sibi reliquum necessario decrevis- 
 sent, laudandum te esse atque tollendum. Veriini, ut 
 dixi, laudes illas qualescunque perspccta postinodum 
 et cognita vitae tuae turpitudo antiquavit jamdiu atque 
 delevit : ut ad infamiam potius tuam haec omnia con- 
 ducere videantur, qui tam praeclaram de te olim homi- 
 num opiuionem, admissis in te postea tot probris, tam 
 foede fefelleris, Ventum tandem ad Pontiam est; 
 quam sic a me falso nominatam contendis. Ego vero 
 authorem Batavum et notissimum illud de te disUchon, 
 quo me facile defendam, recito : 
 
 Galli ex concubitu gravidam te Pontia Mori, 
 Quis bene moratam morigeramque neget ? 
 
 Bontiam, fateor, aliud apud me manuscriptum habet. 
 Sed prima utrobique litera, quse sola variat, ejusdem 
 fere apud vos potestatis est. Alterum ego nomen ut 
 notius, ut elegantius salvo jure criticorum praeposui. 
 Satis de nomine ; nunc rem ipsam considereraus. Quis 
 tam est reus, quis tam omni genere criminationum 
 oblitus, qui, si solus audiatur, causam suam vel Cas- 
 sianis judicibus probare non queat.'* Tu quam attulisti 
 hujus rei narrationem, ejusmodi est, ut nemo sit, modo 
 integer atque attentus accedat, quin te, etiam inau- 
 ditis accusatoribus tuis, vel plan^ condemnandum, vel 
 suspicione gravissima non absolvendum arbitretur. 
 " Uxorem" ais " Salmasii graviter tibi infensam, et 
 ob eas rationes quas commemorare" non vis, " nihil 
 intentatum reliquisse, ut te in nassam infaustissimi 
 matrimonii compingeret." Primum illud suspiciosis- 
 simum est quod celas; illud nempe arcanum quod tibi 
 tam modesto homini et ministro uxorem araici sic ini- 
 micam potuit reddere. Mirum deinde iniinicitice genus 
 narras, quo impulsa uxor amici tui famulam sibi dilec- 
 tissimam nuptum tibi dare cupiebat. Nassa autem 
 illud matrimonium qui potuit dici ? nisi tute eam vel 
 sponsione aliqua tibi induisses, vel escam avid^ nimi 
 appetisses, atque ita merito infaustissimum, quod stupr 
 auspicatus esses, matrimonium rcddidisscs. " Nihil,^ 
 inquis, " intentatum reliquit." Quid ergo inter alij 
 
SUPPLEMENTUM RESPONSIO. 
 
 757 
 
 teiitaverit ut ipse nobis divinandum relinquis; ininio 
 ipse non taces, ipse effutire non erubescis; et illud su- 
 pra dictum k Crantzio, paulo infra quasi palmarium 
 quiddam pro te ex ore Salmasii repetis; " Siquid in 
 Pontia peccavit Morus, ego sura leno, et uxor mea 
 lena." Hanc scilicet pulcherrimam fore defensionem 
 tibi apud onines aniens credidisti, si ostendisses lenone 
 Salmasio, ejusque uxore lena, te non ignobile stuprum 
 fecisse ; et non nisi dominis perductoribus ancillam 
 vitiasse. "Hoc vulgo innotuit;" tu vero " pal am 
 vehementissimeque rehictari." Euge corculum pudo- 
 ris, deliciae castitatis ! Tune rehictari vero ? virginali, 
 ut videtur, verecundia homo nassa muliebri indutus. 
 Nam piscis, nisi captus, non reluctatur : ilia profecto 
 mulier nisi tbunnum te perspexisset, nisi facilem, nisi 
 opportunum, nisi obnoxium ancillte suoe deprehendis- 
 set, nunquam tibi istos laqueos ita elimasset,nunquam 
 tibi Vulcanios illos casses tua Juno tam facile adaptas- 
 set ; nunquam in viruni gravem, Ecclesiastem, doctum, 
 celebreni, qui mariti domum inter amicissimos fre- 
 quentasset, nunquam nisi in mulierosum et notae in- 
 continentise hominem tale quicquam moliri aut tentare 
 ausa esset. At, inquis, " cum factione quadam se 
 conjunxit, quae qualis fuerit, aperire tibi nolo." Ergo 
 hoc etiam non minus suspitiosum nobis relinquis, quod 
 tua multum interfuit aperuisse, quae ista factio, quo in 
 loco te tot Ecclesiarum, tot synodorum, tot magistra- 
 tuum testimoniis ac sigillis loricatum hominem et 
 cataphractum tam acrit^r oppugnarit. Si ob vitce 
 sanctimoniam, concionandi assiduitatem, professoriae 
 facultatis proestantiam te odio habuisset, nihil acquh 
 tibi laudi ac defensioni esse potuit : nunc ciim in re 
 omnium potissimum explicanda tectus atque astutus 
 esse malueris, credendum est non factionem, sed bene 
 magnum bonorum virorum numerum ob impuros mores 
 tuos, vitamque oflTensam merito te odisse. Deinde, si 
 Midelburgi, si Amsterodami, ubi tanto in pretio atque 
 honore apud omnes fuisse te prasdicas, tam numerosa 
 te factio adorta est, claudicare tua fides publica vide- 
 tur ; eosque demum esse factionem qui te tantopere 
 laudanint. Sin Hagae aut Lugduni primum ista factio 
 in te tam acriter est concitata, nihil profecto obstatquo 
 minus appareat deseruisse te tandiu et pastoris et pro- 
 fessoris munus utrobique sacrum, ut Hagte libellos 
 faniosos, ministerium tui Evangelii ministrares ; Lug- 
 duni Pontiam ancillam, id est Nassam ipse tuam secta- 
 rere ; tuosque illos, post diurnura scepe discessum, tot 
 nocturnos ad eam vicina ex urbe reditus, tot cum ea 
 furtivos, inscientibus dominis, congressus vicinitati 
 notissimos, tantum in te odium plurimorum commo- 
 visse. Hos tu " admissarios " uxoris Salmasii vocas ; 
 et ignominiam defuncti amici tui matronse, ejusque 
 propinquis non ferendam inuris. Haec scilicet cum 
 " Ruffino " et factione ilia, " horrenda criminationum 
 tonitrua displosit, et totum insanisclamoribus Belgium 
 implevit." I nunc, et a meconficta haec esse clamita; 
 die meas has esse calumnias; quas ego non calumnias, 
 sed criminationes ab universo pen6 Belgio, te confi- 
 tente, accepi. Has ego taccrem ? his non crederem ? 
 proque tua in nos nostramque rempubl. injuria, scelere, 
 audacia veras esse non judicarem ? quam tu fac- 
 
 tionem, eam ego probissimorum hominum multitu- 
 dinem, testimonium, judicium esse non arbitrer? 
 Hoccine divina animadversione factum non putem, 
 ut dum aliis famosos libellos tam diligenter adornares, 
 famosus ipse passim libellus fieres ? Tu vero cum 
 " existimationem " tuam " haerere," ut ais, " ad me- 
 tas" videres, et " linguis omnium vapulares," baud 
 insolita audacissimi cujusque concilio, potentiorum 
 studiis fretus, quos affectatis concionibus, et Corinthii 
 aeris tinnitu illo tibi forte conciliaveras, " prior Pon- 
 tiam in jus vocas." Contra Salmasius, non insa- 
 niam, ut tu appellas, sed " causam se uxoris destituere 
 non posse" per amicos tibi denuntiat. Quod eum 
 fuisse facturum nisi justam quoque causam credidisset, 
 tibi verisimile esse non debet. Tu, " non sine consilio 
 summorum et sapientissimorum totiusBelgii capitum," 
 quorum nimirum patrocinium vel adulando, vel sup- 
 pliciter ambiendo ad omnes nequitiarum tuarura even- 
 tus tibi comparaveras, " litem in suprema Hollandise 
 curia prosequeris." Quoin loco poteutiam quorundam, 
 ut dixi, non innocentiam tuam prtesidio tibi niaximo 
 fuisse, si vel teipsum audiamus causam hie tuam quanto 
 potes cum artificio et cautione dicentem, obscurum non 
 est. " Desperabant" adversarii " fore se" ilia in curia 
 " superiores :" tuam " afflicturos" se esse " famam" 
 non desperabant. Quid ita .'* quia paucorum vim atque 
 opes in foro dominari, cseteros poene omnes favere sibi 
 videbant. At vero non tuam, sed suam ipsi famam 
 accusatores tui afflixissent, si tu sequo judicio superior 
 ipsorum opinione futurus videbaris. "Omnes," in- 
 quis, "omni ope me unum oppugnabant;" non " de- 
 fuisse" tamen "amicos" tibi "agnoscis:" paucos 
 igitur et potentes fuisse illos necesse est: id quod 
 etiam " niiratos et conquestos esse inimicos tuos" usque 
 eo non diffiteris, ut ne noceret tibi ista gratia tam aperta 
 ac manifesta veritus, baud semel subirasci te simules 
 amicis tuis, cumque iis expostulare, quasi pariira pru- 
 denter tibi et non satis cautd favissent. Itaque " su- 
 prema capita, quae tibi suum in hac causa prsesidium 
 obtulere, enix6 rogasti, siquid valeres gratia, ne quid 
 eorum autoritas de victoria innocentiae tuae delibaret." 
 Illius judicii exitus qui demum fuerit, non dicis ; Ad- 
 versarii certd, tantum abfuit ut jure aut oequitate victos 
 se esse arbitrarentur, ut quos tu reos modo feceras, hi 
 nunc petitores ad synodum provocarent ; et quod ob- 
 tinere a magnatibus jus suum non poterant, id impe- 
 trare per Ecclesiam facile, se posse sperarent. Veriim 
 et in ilia synodo nimis multiim valuisse gratiara gratis, 
 ut aiunt, id est nullis omnino meritis tuis datam, etiam 
 ex iis quae pergis ipse narrare, satis constat. " Adsunt 
 delegati Lugdunenses ; saccum producunt oppletum 
 foedissimis criminationibus : " satis amplum, opinor, si 
 tua omnia flagitia contineret, ut induendo etiam tibi, 
 si egisses forte poenitentiam, sufficere potuerit. " Ur- 
 gent delegati, ut praelegerentur omnia, quae secum 
 sacco illo gerebantur :" vel ut latiniiis dixisses, porta- 
 bantur in sacco ; a te enim puto, gerebantur in sindone. 
 Sed synodi pars magna " reluctari, famosos esse libel- 
 los." Animadvertite quoeso novam ac singularera ju- 
 dicum fequitatem atque prudentiam ; qui criminationes 
 cum testimoniis in judicium allatas, neque dura per- 
 
758 
 
 AUTHORIS AD ALEXANDRI MORI 
 
 lectas, tanquara famosos libellos, rejiciendas esse con- 
 tenduiit. Horuni vicit sententia : excurrit confestim 
 unus eoruni, gratulabundiis Moro, et " boiiuni factum, 
 inqiiit ; nihil contra te lepfetur." En iteruni severos 
 judices! quorum sententia in Mori gratiam sic mani- 
 festo lata est, ut unus eorum pati non possit quin cx- 
 ipso judicio de sella prosiliret, gratulatum reo. Puduit 
 Morum ipsum tarn dissolutte sententise: perturbari 
 denuo se simulat, et aegrd ferre, non perlegi ilia volu- 
 niina criminum suorura. Objurgatus itaque bonus ille 
 judex et acriter ab ipso reo increpitus, redit in coetum ; 
 cseterisque facile persuadet, ut mutata priore sententia 
 statueretur omnia leg-enda esse. At vero, quoe isti 
 judices primiim Icgenda non esse, ad arbitriiim deinde 
 rei, conversis eadem bora scntentiis, leffenda esse de- 
 creverant, de iis tandem perlectis quam non attente, 
 quam non severe, quam denique in reum propense 
 judicaverint, intellectu difficile non est. Consurg-unt 
 judices ; reum frequentes adennt; " amplectuntur ;" et 
 cui palam modo gratificare, ei nunc apert^ gratulari 
 nou dubitant. Quamquam ego in hoc toto judicio non 
 tara Mori, quam ejus personse atque ordinis habitam 
 esse rationem crediderem. Synodi prspses ipse Rive- 
 rius complexus te, " nunquam ^Ethiops, inquit, ita 
 dealbatus est, quemadmodum hodie tu fuisti." Tune 
 vero adeo obesa nare homo es, ut irrisum te potius, 
 quam absolutum hoc proverbio non sentias .'' Riverius 
 ciim jEthiopem te lavando et operam et laticem frustra 
 perdidisset, dealbavit. Tu jam salve nobis, ^thiops, 
 aut, si mavis, paries dealbate ; quandoquidem quo 
 Paulus Ananiam, eodem te synodi preeses titulo deco- 
 ravit Nunc ipsum decretum synodi perpendamus. 
 " Lectis chartisiis quae allatae fuerunt a deJegatis Lug- 
 dunensibus circa litem illam quse in suprema HoHandiae 
 curia mutilabatur, nihil in iis rcpertum est, quod valeret 
 adimendte ecclesiis libertati, qua Morum ad sacras con- 
 dones habendas cum occasio se dabat, iuvitare sole- 
 bant." Haec, etiamsi tua sola fide accipiamus, quam 
 obscura, quam tepida, quam tegr^ absolvant reum, aut 
 ne absolvant quidem, quis non videt ? qui te olim maxi- 
 mis cumulare laudibus solebant, nunc multis ciimiuibus 
 insimulatum, ne uno quidem verbo tenuissimo purum 
 autinsontcm pronuntiant. Non commendant te eccle- 
 siis ; " libertatem" tantummodo iis non " adimunt" qua 
 te, non ad pastoris assiduum munus, sed "cum occasio 
 se dabat," ad concionandum fortuito " invitare sole- 
 bant." Ista autem occasio si se nunquam daret, id 
 sibi displicere aut detrimenti quicquam inde capturam 
 esse eeclesiam, haudquaquam ostendunt. Tibi interim 
 pro ara pulpitum est ; ilia in aula te jactas bucca notis- 
 sima; et quo turpior domi, eo clamosior in coetu es: 
 quicquid in occulto, quicquid in "sacco" illo peccas, 
 hie tua cymbala, tua eera concrcpare strenu^ non desi- 
 nis ; et tuum illud rostrum nusquam impudentius, 
 quam in rostris offers. " I nunc," inquis, " et stupra et 
 spurios tibi finge." Immo, ito tu, inquam, et stupra 
 tua si audes vel uno verbo diserte nega : id quod toto 
 hoc libro facere non es ausus. " Consulantur acta 
 publica;" immo consulantur acta privata, acta furtiva, 
 acta nocturna tua, quee vulgatissima istis regionibus 
 jamdiu innutuerc. Unde spurii si non cxtitcrint, non 
 
 continuu tu castus,scd eu fortasse nequior fuisti. Hac- 
 tcnus quee tu testimonia attulisti aut maid parta, aut 
 jam exoleta, id est aliquanto prius data, quam patefacta 
 ca fuerint facinora quce a me tibi potissimum objiciun- 
 tur, ostendi. Quibus testimoiiiis si ab innumeris passim 
 viris bonis quos nunquam nominatim laeseras non est 
 creditum, id quod ipsi subscriptores tui queruntur, de 
 me nostrisque hominibus, quos injuriis maximis ultro 
 irritasti, si non credamus, non est merito quod queri 
 quisquam possit. Postremas omnium literas Amstero- 
 damensium consulum et rectorum, nescio cujus opera, 
 quove pacto comparatas, ex Gallia transmittis: neque 
 ad tempus omni ex parte satis accommodatus, et ad rem 
 cert^ minime appositas. Ego quse tu ipse flagitiosa 
 feceris, coarguo ; tu quid magistratus in te non fecerit 
 hoc testimonio duntaxat ostendis. Scripsi equidem, 
 et, quod tum palam testatus sum, non pro certissimo, sed 
 utnuper audiveram,idque etiam per literas fide dignas, 
 magistratum Amsterodamensem tibi pulpitum interdix- 
 isse. Tu literas fkteris " per omnes gentes" contra te 
 ab " adversariis" tuis " missitatas." Et eos adversarios 
 nunc scribis esse tuos ; ego et bonos viros esse eos ac- 
 ceperam, et te adversarium sciebam esse meum. Ex 
 ipsis quaero magistratibus Amsterodamensium, num 
 istiusmodi quippiam allatum ad se de adversario non 
 tantum suo, sed civitatis etiam suae, silentio prsetermit- 
 tendum censuissent ? Hoc igitur si verum non sit, est 
 quoque levissimum; de quo etego minimi laborare, et 
 tu minime exultare debeas. Numquid est aliud quod 
 testentur tibi hse literee? est aliud. Te " ex quo tem- 
 pore apud se in publico munere versatus es, nihil ad- 
 misisse quod justum prsedictis calumniis locum dare 
 potuerit " Quid si ante admiseris, quam ad eos ve- 
 nisti ? Nam quibus consnlibus admissa abs te quceque 
 fuerint, cujus in scabinatum pruritiones tuae inciderint 
 si ex ratione fastorum non habeo dicere, id non dices 
 arbitror, ita magni referre. Quid, inquam, si ante ad" 
 miseris .' quod ego quidem pro certo habeo. Tum sani 
 et hoc quoque testimonium, ancile tuum, baud multi 
 plus ponderis, quam alterius cujusquam habuerit; ut 
 quod de iis, qure auditione tantum acceperat ab aliis 
 testificetur. Quod autem adjungitur te " extra culpan 
 notamve fuisse," id adeo liquido non ita se habet, u( 
 etiam reliqua in dubium vocare videatur. Non aliur 
 igitur atque teipsum tuis Consulibus opponam ; qui U 
 culpatum, notatum, vexatum, linguis omnium toto 
 Belgio vapulasse, baud semel, pluribusque verbis cou- 
 fessus es. Comniodiim itaque interserunt, " ut ad nos 
 relatura est." A quibus autem ? nam et ad nos longd 
 alia et a plurimis relata sunt: utrorum qui haec tarn 
 varie referunt antcponenda fides sit, ipsi nostram scquh 
 ac suam existimationem esse sciunt. At vero non ad se 
 omnia quamvis consules, relata esse ut doceam, respon- 
 deant mihi rogo libellus iste in nos famosus, a Mor 
 editus, relatusne ad se fuerit.' qucm libcllum edidis 
 in nostram rempubl. non ministri erat Evangelicil 
 sed ardelionis et calumniatoris, et ncbulonis male 
 dicentissimi. Si negant de hoc libello quicquam sil 
 pcrlatum, posse et multa alia etiam improbissimd 
 non pcrferri ad se de hoc Moro velim existimeni 
 Sin fatcantur allatum sibi esse illius libri cditorcm fd 
 
SUPPLEMENTUM RESPONSIO. 
 
 759 
 
 isse Morum, suum tamen illi testiraonium tanquain 
 homini reverendo, probo, inculpato perhibuerint, sci- 
 ant nos istiusmodi testimonium etiam consilium et 
 scabinorum tanquam levissimum, et nullius plane 
 authoritatis repudiare. Horum, inquis, rectorum "gra- 
 vitatem, fidem, autoritatem si nosses, sexcentis mil- 
 lenorum Miltonorum libellis retundendis parem agno- 
 sceres." Ergo vero, mi homo, id nescio an ita facile 
 agnoscerem ; quandoquidem et id nescio, apt<rtv5ijv, an 
 vXurivStft', virtute an censu magistratum ilium in civi- 
 tate sua obtineant. Neque me latet consules, et prae- 
 tores, illustriora longe quam nunc sunt nomina, etiam 
 Verrem,reorum omnium Romae perditissimum, studiose 
 defendisse, cum provincia tota, virique boni universi 
 gravissimd accusarcnt. Hoc summum fidei tuae pub- 
 lico propugnaculum, eademque basis et firmamentum 
 maximum, quam nullo tamen negotio labefactetur et 
 corruat, vides. Sequitur ecclesiae Amsterodamensis 
 Gallo-Belgicae testimonium, subscriptore imprimis Hot- 
 tono, Mori intimo, et quod supra demonstravimus, Re- 
 gii Clamoris conscio. Valde nobis probatum sit necesse 
 est hujusmodi testimonium, cujus subscriptionis prin- 
 ceps est Hottonus. Sed tamen quid afferat, videamus. 
 " Tantum abesse," ait, " ut eoruni criminum eum reum 
 esse sciamus aut agnoscamus, quorum a quodam Miltone 
 Anglo accusatur." — Hujus fidei vis maxima, ut video, in 
 ignorantiee professione posita est. Quid hoc testimonio 
 facianius ? quid hac fide ? quoe sua se potissimiim ig- 
 norantia commendat. Reum esse nescimus, non agno- 
 scimus : hoc quis prjeterea toto propemodum Belgio 
 ignorat, qure illi praecipu^ crimina objicio, eorum ipsum 
 in utroque foro, non reum modo diuturnum fuisse, sed 
 plurimorum judicio damnatissimum ; nee nisi poten- 
 tium quorundam studiis, utque sacro potius ordini quam 
 ipsi consuleretur, fuisse absolutum. Tantum abest ut 
 reum esse sciamus, " ut contra potius ab illo aliquoties 
 conciones sacras rogaverimus." Contenti ncmpe hoc 
 forensi judicio, ubi gratia plus justo potuit ; et sua- 
 dente praesertim Hottono, quoties ipse respirare et 
 suis parcerc lateribus decrevisset. Verum hoc quid 
 efficit? aut quis est nescius multos in concionibus satis 
 esse placitos, satis suaves ac tinnulos, qui in onini 
 vita reliqua oflTensioni maximae fuerint? Etenim qui 
 suis libidinibus explendis dat operam, quid obstat quo 
 minus idem titillandis alienis auribus commode servire 
 possit. Quod reliquum est, index potius operis, quam 
 testimonium dici meretur: quando enim aliud quod 
 dicat non habet, " satis superque testantur," inquit, 
 " de ipso aliarum ecclesiarum in quibus vixit diutiiis 
 quam apud nos, publica documenta ad quoe nos iis con- 
 sentiendo referimus." Quae vox detrectantium pene, 
 et libenter hoc negotio expedire se cupientium prorsus 
 videtur ; facitque ut non immerito suspicemur, testimo- 
 nium hoc, tametsi plane friget, non sine sudore tamen 
 Mori, allaborante etiam Hottono, multisrepugnantibus, 
 impetratum aegre fuisse. Epilogi loco est " curatorum 
 scholae*' testimonium. Verum in schola quid tu decla- 
 mites, quid recites, aut quemamodum te geras, neque 
 tanti esse reor ut cognoscere curemus, neque ad banc 
 causam pertinet. Vitam et mores tuos excutimus : quos 
 cum isti vix attingere, et ad literas supcriores malle 
 
 nos remittere videantur, quod ad eoruni testimonium 
 infirmandum satis sit, superiiis quoque dictum putemus. 
 Ad finem aliquando pervenimus tuae Fidei publicae; 
 quae ex Gallico fere sermone in Gallico-latinura " trala- 
 titia" inanissimi libri maximam partem occupat. Co- 
 pias jam omnes tuas cum supplemento etiam lustra- 
 vimus: peramplas quidem eas, sed ad porapam sane 
 potius, quam ad verum robur comparatas. Hae sunt 
 plumae tuae, sub quibus corniculam latitare te dixi. Haec 
 vestis ilia multicolor qua Morum revera, id est morio- 
 nem te induisti : his tu phaleris ne populum quidem fe- 
 felleris : tuque si sapuisses, aut ullo lerum usu praedi- 
 tus fuisses, nullius fore usus tibi haec omnia, quod ad 
 tuam attinet causam, facile intellexisses. Potest for- 
 tasse quispiam, cujus nonien alioqui nunquam audis- 
 semus, tam sui venditandi causa quam tui, phalerata 
 verba tibi dedisse : potest aliorum pudor et bonitas 
 fiagitanti ac sudanti, et agi jam tuam existimationem 
 misere querenti, hoc tantulum non denegassc. Potes 
 tu per interpretes Hottonos multa confecisse : et tamen 
 post haec omnia scito te nihil quod ad rem pertineat in 
 medium protulisse. Quid juverit, quteso, vel in foro 
 testimonia generatim dicta, quid elogia de tuis " doti- 
 bus," quid incertas blandientium amicorum laudes 
 proferre, si ego te certorum criminum accuso ? Accu- 
 sariint te adulterii Genevae olim viri graves; tempus, 
 locum, adulterum nominarunt : multorum praeterea 
 criminum te detulerunt. Quid si istam farragiuem 
 pro testimonio Judicibus tum tuis ostendisses .'* accep- 
 turosne putas fuisse eos, teque absolvendum istis cri- 
 minibus fuisse continue judicatures ? immo vero jus- 
 sissent te, ablatis hisce niigis, apposite respondere ; 
 ullamne cum ista foemina rem, rationemve habueris; illo 
 in horto eamne conveneris ; illo in tugurio, clausis fori- 
 bus, solusne cum sola fueris. Haec et hujusmodi multa 
 ex te requisissent ; ad quae singula, neque in illo tum 
 judicio, quod te jure absolvere vel suspicione posset 
 (judicium enim illud petita abeundi licentia commodum 
 praevertisti) neque in hoc libro, tot alioqui ineptiis re- 
 fertissimo, quicquam respondes. Facis idem prorsus 
 in causa quoque Pontiana : quid in foro transactum sit, 
 quantopere tua gratia ad praejudiaium miserae mulier- 
 cula; post Salmasii obitum valuerit, suspiciose ad- 
 mod um ipse narras. De illis nocturnis Haga Leidam 
 itineribus, de illis cum Pontia clandestinis atque noc- 
 turnis congressibus, quanquam haec et multo plura 
 hujusmodi omnibus in ore sunt, nullum verbum facis. 
 Quid haec prorsus alienissima nobis obtrudis ? immo 
 quid omnino banc tantam literarum ac testimoniorum 
 congeriem tibi ullo tempore comparasti ? an quod tuae- 
 met ipse conscientioe satis probatus apud te non eras.!* 
 an quod de te nee tibi ipsi, nee spontaneis hominum 
 sermonibus credere audebas, nisi tot coactis noniinibus 
 ac testimoniis tibimet confirmatum hoc esset atque tes- 
 tatum, id quod alioqui nunquam credidisses, te virum 
 bonum aut tolerabilem posse cuiquam videri ? An vero 
 tot criminibus accusatus, cum de te homines ubique 
 pessime loquerentur, commendationibus totidem sanare 
 ilia vulnera posse te existiinasti ? atqui vides quo soe- 
 pius ex mala valetudine ad inancm medicinam, ex 
 novis maleficiis et riunoribus inde natis ad novas per- 
 
760 
 
 AUTHORIS AD ALEXANDRT MORI 
 
 petu6 commcndationes recurris, earum autlioritatem eo 
 semper niiiiorem abs to recldi atquc indies leviorera : 
 eeigfrotare uimirum existimationcni tuani et inorbosissi- 
 mam esse, qtite tut purgationibus, tot niedicanientis in- 
 digeai conimendatioiium quis est quin siispicetur ? Sed 
 fortasse longinquas in urbes queniadmudum praedicas, 
 ad professioncs aniplissimas perseepe invitatus, buc te 
 quasi commeatti, iter facturus, instruxisti. Optime : 
 qutero itaque an proficisci in animo tibi fuerit ad cos 
 Iioinines qui te ignorasscnt, qui an satis nossent? si ad 
 illos, venustus profecto bomo necesse est tibi fueris, qui 
 ab illis invitatum iri te unquani credideris, qui te igno- 
 rassent: Si ad hos qui te jam satis norant, quid hoc 
 tanto commendationuni instruniento ac sarciiia ad eos 
 opus erat, quibus jam antea commendatissimum te esse 
 ex eo ipso, quod invitassent, sciebas. Perspicuum 
 igitur est, nullam ob rem aliam, tantam vim testimo- 
 niorum coniniendatitiam sic te studiose congessisse et 
 in promptu semper babuisse, nisi vel ad ostentationem 
 quandam circuiatoriam, ad quam artem factum te 
 praecipue atque natuni existimarim, vel impendentis 
 ignominio; metu, quam ex flagitiis nondum patefactis 
 certissimam tibi expectabas. Ut liaberes nimirum 
 speciosum aliquid et publicum et foris partum, quod 
 privatte atque domesticte 'et erumpenti interdum ex 
 latebris opponeres infamiae ; utque procerum atque 
 doctorum splendidis testLmoniis, in quibiis consequendis 
 gratia atque ambitio nunc fere plurimum possunt, con- 
 tra populi veras voces te communires. Verum ista te 
 spes ut dixi, et frustrata jam est, et frustrabitur ; cum 
 quia tuara obtegere improbitatem atque nequitiam, 
 neque lux ulla neque tenebrae possunt, tum quia hoc 
 ipsum quicquid est nuinimenti, quo te circumsepsisti, 
 per se satis infirmum atque rimosum est. Id planius 
 adhuc fiet, si testimonia haec tua, quemadmodum per 
 se singula consideravimus, ita nunc postrema primis, 
 prima mediis conferamus; et doctores proceresque tuos 
 inter se paulisper committaraus. Ut intelligi tandem 
 possit, quas fides illius fidei publicae, illorum testium 
 sit, ubi aut alii ab aliis tam longe dissentiunt, aut ple- 
 rique tam multa vel dissimulant vel nesciunt, quae sua 
 sponte alii fatentur., Illud imprimis exemplo sit, quod 
 in iis Uteris occurrit quae Genevensis esse ecclesiae di- 
 cuntur. " Nihil utiquc illi," id est Moro, " vel ab in- 
 fensissimis hostibus merito objici queat, quod justre sit 
 reprehensioni obnoxiura." Ego contra non quaj 
 bostes objiciunt Moro, sed qute amici ejus, quaj testes 
 ejus et " justie reprehensioni obnoxia" fatentur, et ipsi 
 in eo reprehendunt, ex his iisdem testimoniis depro- 
 mam. — Quid enim Deodatus ? " Non provocat qui- 
 dem " Morus, " sed terribiles ungues habet ad sui tute- 
 1am." Quos ungues ? nam istiusmodi quicquam inter 
 Evangelici ministri arnia non reperio ; et eloquentiam 
 nolim a viro docto atque humano, tam truci metaphora 
 significari : Reliquum est, ut ungues illos, feritatem 
 atque ferociam hominis interpretemur, quos non ad 
 tutelam sui, sed ad injuriam aliorum, in nos certe ni- 
 miiim expedites atque acres ferse similior quam pastori 
 exercuit. Apertiora baud paulo sunt qute Gcorgius 
 Crantzius, Albcrti (emulus, ne ab avunculo forte suo 
 bistorica fide superetur,et quanto eegrior tanto fortasse 
 
 veracior ultro nobis largitur. " Ego Mori notitiam habui 
 et Genevae et in Belgio ; semper magnas inimicitias 
 exercuit cum aeniulis, quibus ipse locum sa[>pc priebuit 
 nimia libcrtate loquendi." Et hoc teste, contra quim 
 ab altero dictum modo est, et " ungues habet" et pro- 
 vocat Morus. " Ferox" atque " fidens, crabronum irri- 
 tator" infestissimus: Beelsebubem prope alternm dicas, 
 nisi quod ille muscas : Laboris alioqui "intolerantior," 
 teste etiam laudatorc Salmasio ; cujus et " uxorem 
 varie laeserat," et alia queedam commiserat " inconsi- 
 deratione tali homine indigna." Htec ab amicis ac tes- 
 tibus tuis vis ipsa veritatis expressit ; quae quamvis 
 favore et studio dicentium in molliorem partem flectan- 
 tur, ejusmodi tamen sunt qute ingenium tuum palam 
 omnibus faciant, et hujus testimonii totius fidem infir- 
 mare baud mediocriter atque infringere videantur: 
 cujus altera pars probum, inofifensum, sanctum, omni 
 labe ac vitio carentem, altera contentiosum, turbulen- 
 tum, arrogantem, garrulum, ignavum,injurium, incon* 
 sideratum denique et stultum nobis exhibet Morum. 
 Sic fuit tua fides publica, id est, nulla: reverteris nunc 
 iterum ad privatam, quae nulla minor est. "At vides 
 interea," inquis, " quam non tralatitio me dignentur 
 aflfectu, quos tu vis mihi furcas comparare." Immo tu 
 vide, si potes, ira atque amentia impeditus, quam ve- 
 hementer hallucineris, quam nihil attente agas. Non 
 ego hoc " de Batavis," sed Genevensibus intelligi vo- 
 lebam ; nee quid hi statuissent, sed quid tu meruisses. 
 "Verba," inquis, "tua recognosce, Orestis scmule." 
 Recognosco, inquam, Orestis aemule! Cujus flagitia si 
 pro meritis excepisset magistratus, jamdudum adulterla 
 patibulo pendens luisses : nimirum Genevoe, ubi adul- 
 terii delatus eras ; ad alios magistratus cognitio illius 
 facti pertinere non potuit. Quae sequuntur ])orrd et 
 luiturus prOpediem videris, et htec non iratus tibi omi- 
 nor, sed duntaxat jusdico, facile demonstrant, non tum 
 praedixisse me quid sis passurus, sed pronuntiasse quid 
 esses meritus; idque (cum de nobis ipse prior jndi- 
 casses) pari jure meo fecisse. I nunc non conscientiae 
 integritate, non justa defensione, sed scelerum impuni- 
 tate quod facis effer te et gloriare. " Huic," inquis, 
 " fungo, nuper h terra nato quern aut quos opposui?" 
 Erras More, et me non nosti : mihi lent^ crescere, et 
 velut occulto eevo satius semper fuit. Tu ille fungus 
 qui ex ephebis modo Genevara profectus, Graecarum 
 literarum professor subito emersisti ; et tot viris natu 
 " grandioribus ecclesiastis, jureconsultis, medicis, ilia 
 ingenii tunc primiim efflorescentis gratia," ut tu satis 
 fungos^ narras, "palmam" pracripuisti : mox inter 
 fungos, et olera, et armamenta olitoria, fungo recens 
 tuberante, non tu quidem Claudium extinxisti, sed 
 Claudiam supinasti. Nunc "conciliare" me jubes 
 mea " dicta," si possum, "et fabulas," cum magistra- 
 tuum "dictis atque judiciis" abs te scilicet emendicatis: 
 Ego vero mea dicta cum tuis factis faciI6 conciliavero ; 
 de ipsorum dictis atque judiciis ipsi viderint : nos ut non 
 porticibus, ita nee iisdem judiciis fruimur. Tu tecum 
 si potes temetipsum concilia; qui totum illiid Gene- 
 vense negotium, et gravissimum in te crimen aduiterii, 
 quasi fabulam dc iufensu crga te magistratuuni anM 
 mo, summa cura, summoque studio refellere conaris«j 
 
SUPPLEMENTUM RESPONSIO. 
 
 761 
 
 Cur illara quse vehementissim^ ad te pertinult, 
 tam facile prajtermittis, banc quae te minime attingit 
 corrogatis tot testibiis tanta mole refutare contendis ? 
 Saii6 si ipse tibimet constare vis videri, nosque tiiuni 
 institutum et respondendi rationem intuemur, qui fa- 
 bulas coiifutatione indignas esse censes, aut illud in te 
 verura crimen, aut hoc de te non verum magistratus 
 judicium credamus oportebit. — At non omni ex parte 
 vituperandus est Morus ; babet suas laudes ; magna 
 vitia magnis virtutibus compensat; facit quod in bo- 
 mine ecclesiastico laudatissimum simul et rarissimum 
 est, ut gratis concionetur. "Nullo," inquit, " stipen- 
 dio auctoratus gratuitani ecclesiae operam rogatus 
 praesto :" immo vero fortuitam ; ex quo videlicet am- 
 pliore mercede proposita, relicto pastoris munere, sa- 
 crarura bistoriarum professor factus es ; id est revera, ex 
 sacrario iu scbolam ad stipendium uberius emigrasti : 
 turn si cujus rogatu fort^ concionaris, boo tanquam be- 
 neficii loco imputas ; cum assiduum pastoris ministe- 
 rium deserueris, ut banc subcisivam operam desertee 
 abs te ecclesise non sine maximo conipendio tuo gratis 
 impertire videaris. Tu vero More, si ecclesiam Medio- 
 burgensem, quae te, ut ais, tam bonorifice invitasset, 
 tanto cum fructu audisset, tam segr^ dimisisset, sine 
 ^avissima causa reliquisses, et ad alium gregem, idem- 
 que munus pastoris te contulisses, reprebendendum 
 nierito et levitatis arguendum existimarim. Nunc cum 
 "Attalicis," ut ipse ais, " conditionibus" non Cbristi- 
 anis, et " emolumenti fructu " longe uberiore adductus, 
 non de grege in gregem desultorius tantummodo pastor 
 transieris, sed illo munere long^ potiore posthabito, ex 
 Evangelii ministro mutatus in professorem et bistori- 
 cum, ex ipsis ecclesiae adytis ad promreria regressus 
 sis, non mercenarii solum, sed defectoris prope numero 
 habendum te esse, si babenda veteris et sanctissimae 
 disciplinae ulla ratio est, affirmare non vereor. At con- 
 cionaris tamen : et strenu^ quidem, nunquam " majore 
 cum fructu" Attalico, ad Pergamenos puta, non tuum 
 ad gregem ; quibus si forte aures vix satis teretes pru- 
 riunt, tu, vitio cantorum plan^ converso, rogatus nun- 
 quam desistis : et velut sacerdos Pbrygia? niatris non- 
 dum exsectus, aut Curetum aliquis, moves libenter 
 tua crotala; non ut vagitum quempiam fabulosum, 
 sed ut rumores flagitiorum tuorum plus nimio veraces 
 fanatica vociferatione obruas. Hoc tu septenario stre- 
 pitu et doctrina fortuita, ut quivis olim cyclicus aut 
 sopbista, si rogatus recitas, desertum Pastoris munus 
 assiduum explere te putas? At concionator est bellus 
 et facundus. Ita, credo, ut est orator : cui proverbia 
 si demas, et insutos versiculorum centones, orationis 
 . ipso filo atque contextu nihil inornatius, nihil incom- 
 positius, nihil verbosius atque putidius ; nihil ubi 
 venustatem, numerum, atque nervos paulo disertiore 
 bomine dignos magis requiras. Unum est in quo 
 graviter titubatum a me esse fateor : Grsecarum litera- 
 rum professorem dixi, quem sacrarum bistoriarum 
 dixisse debui : enimvero incredibile mibi prorsus, et 
 portento simile videbatur, bistoriarum sacrarum eum 
 esse professorem, qui tot profanarum argumentum ipse 
 atque materies esset. Tu vero mibi rectiiis, More, non 
 bistoriarum, sed calumniarum professor deinceps nomi- 
 
 naberis. Quod ne quis a me secus atque res ipsa se 
 babet dictum arbitretur, mea ipsa verba abs te prolata 
 in medio ponam ; tuam deinde horum interpretatio- 
 nem, quam dico esse calumniam : ut quam impudenter 
 et malitiose agas, quod et supra idque seepius demon- 
 stravi, et bine qualem te sacrse etiam literae tortorem 
 proculdubio sentiant, pra*terire neminem possit. Re- 
 statjam tibi sola Grsecaruin literarum professio : ergo 
 hoc ego "crimini" tibi do, quod Greecas literas es 
 professus : ergo ego " Graccas literas earumque pro- 
 fessores cogo in ordinem." Ergo ego " Graecas literas 
 ad imasubsellia relego." Quis horum quicquam sequi 
 praeter te dixerit ? ipsa malitia si operam tibi suam 
 locasset, tale quippiam ex meis verbis ullam in partam 
 torquendo expriniere qui tandem potuisset? tu hoc non 
 solum pro verissimo tibi sumis, verum etiam ut non 
 nasutum minus conjectorem te, quam navum esse ca- 
 lumniatorem intelligamus, " cur Graecas " inquis " lite- 
 ras, earumque profcssores cogas in ordinem, nisi me 
 fallit animus, olfeci fucum : " Nempe Salmasius cum 
 esset Grtecae linguae callentissimus, et hujus ego au- 
 thoritatcm elevare statuissem, id ut quoquo modo pos- 
 sem, Graecas literas, " ejus," si diis placet, " regna, ad 
 ima subsellia relegavi." Quis calumniari solertius, 
 quam hariolari te nunc dicat? Atqui non meus ille 
 fucus, vir sagacissiiiie, sed tuus mucus quem olfecisti, 
 tantummodo erat. Mibi enim cum Salmasio de Grce- 
 cis non magis Uteris quam calendis contestata lis erat; 
 non ilium literis vel Graecis vel Latinis, sed authorita- 
 tum et rationum ponderibus, affligendum atque ster- 
 nendum esse intelligebam. Hinc tu, propterea quod 
 omnes cupide ambages quaeris, nequid ad rem dicere 
 cogaris, ut olim paupertatis, ita nunc Graecarum lite- 
 rarum in laudes ridicule sane transcurris. Quas ego 
 cum neque nesciam, et, siquis alius, plurimi faciam, 
 nihil profecto ineptius, nihil alienius fingere potuisti, 
 quam despectas a me esse Graecas literas: cum non 
 tibi illas, sed teillis probro esse dixerim. Sed haec tua 
 perpetua fer^ ratio est ; ubi non fictis criminibus urge- 
 ris, ut ne obmutuisse plane videaris, data tibi esse a 
 me crimini quaelibet (ingis, aut absurda quaevis et fal- 
 sissima de me inseris eaque in priniis quae dicta nun- 
 quam sunt, refutanda irripis : Hie strepis, hie tumul- 
 tuaris, hie te jactas. Si adulterii te postulo, pauper- 
 tatem scilicet contemno ; paupertas tibi contra me toto 
 penu loculorum tuorum defendenda est : Si stupri 
 arguo, Graecas literas niniirum vcllico ; Grascarum 
 literarum obtrectator oppugnandus tibi sum : Sic tu 
 vera fictis eludere conaris, ut hoc fumo excitato oc- 
 cultare turpem fugam et convictissimi soutis pu- 
 dorem atque silentium possis. Vide autem, dum 
 Graecas literas tam veteratorie laudas, ut irascantur 
 tibi literae Latinae ; tuumque " jecur latinum," ut satis 
 sanum non sit. " Quota pars haec est, inquis, spu- 
 torum et alaporum ?" Nae tu masculum tibi alapum 
 hoc soloecismo meruisti : nam foeraineas esse alapas 
 quas tot sensisti, mirum non est si invitus agnoscas. 
 Verum haec missa faciamus ; levia sunt, vetera sunt ; 
 alius repente homo jam factus est Morus; ad sanita- 
 tem jamjamque est rediturus; gradum unum atque al- 
 terum fecit ; paulo veracior, paulo candidior ab rheto- 
 
762 
 
 AUTHORIS AD ALEXANDRI MORI SUPPLEMENTUM RESPONSIO. 
 
 n'ca Diaboli (sic cnim caluniniam supra nominat) ad 
 rhetoricam transit Juliani. " Vicisti," inquis, " Mil- 
 tone." Hanc nerape voceni, ut ilie olim (ne non Apos- 
 tata satis gcrina^us per omnia videaris) veritate victus 
 emisisti. Sed vide, ne sincerum quod est, cauponum 
 more, mendatio statiin diluas. " Confitentem," ioquis, 
 " habes reum." Eg'o vero reum qiiidem habeo; con- 
 fitentem non habeo: nisi si id pro confesso est haben- 
 dum quicquid tu silentio prceteriisti : sic enim et libel- 
 lum in nos famosum cdidisse, et hosti nostro dicasse, 
 et Anglicanam Rcmpublicam indignissimis modis, me- 
 que nominatim illaesus leesisse, totani denique fabulam 
 Genevensem confiteris. Ab bac proevaricatione ad pre- 
 cationem quandam artificiose compositam te confers; 
 sive ea tute iidei publicoe extrcma confessio dicenda 
 est; ad quam Deum testem invocas, tremendum fateor 
 et testem et judiceni. Multa confiteris, multa ploras, 
 peccata quidem " long^ gravissima," sed qute ad nos 
 nihil attineant, quia penitus latent, et etiamnum incon- 
 fessa nobis sunt. Et ista quidem si in occulto, clausis- 
 que foribus, ut peccare antea, ita nunc precari in ani- 
 mum induxisses, laudassem equidem te, deque benig- 
 nitate et dementia divina bene sperare jussissem : nunc 
 cum in platea media orantem te hie repcriam, ad ho- 
 mines potius quam ad Deum concinnatas has esse pre- 
 ces, et quasi ultima jacentis tute fidei publicee suspiria 
 judicarim. " Te Deus, te testem in?oco, an non videant 
 
 homines in corde isto quae tu non vides." O confes- 
 sionem clarani atque siniplicem ! inimo vero quid ob- 
 scurius, quid cautius, quid jurcconsultius composuisse 
 poteras, ut decem causidicos vel adhibuisse viderere, vel 
 pertimuisse .'* Nam quid hoc est, obsecro ? " an non vi- 
 deant homines in corde isto." Quid vident homines in 
 corde? Urinatore hie opus est Delio. Verum quid quis 
 in corde videat, vidcrit. Ego facta palani, audita, visa, 
 testata refcro : quas nemo meas esse calumnias sine 
 maxima calumnia dixerit. " Longe tiirpior sum," in- 
 quis, " re quidem vera quam illi fingunt; ob ilia tot 
 abscondita, quorum apud te reus ver^ sum." Sic tu 
 nota ignotis, clara abscond itis delere atque eluere co- 
 naris : occulta, incerta, latentia confiteris, ut cxplorata, 
 certa, manifesta eo impudentiiis negare possis : ad ex- 
 tremum eo descendis, ut confessionem hanc, quasi 
 libellum famosum de temetipso conscribas, quo facilius 
 veram accusationem aliorum possis evadere. Tu haec 
 atque hujusmodi valere apud Deum cave existimes; 
 apud homines certd vel mediocriter sagaces, minimd 
 valebunt. Quod si Unguis, ut ipse ais, atque conviciis 
 omnium jamdiu verberatus, resipuisti aliquando revera, 
 et ad bonam frugem revertisti, gaudeo. Nos te sic 
 veram egisse poenitentiam arbitrabimur, si tuarum in 
 nos injuriarum et maledicentise famos£E poenituisse i 
 tandem intelligemus. 1 
 
   
 
 I 
 
JOANNIS PHILIPPI ANGLI 
 RESPONSIO 
 
 AD 
 APOLOGIAM ANONYMI CUJUSDAM TENEBRIONIS PRO REGE ET POPULO ANGLICANO INFANTISSIMAM. 
 
 [First publisbkd 1655.] 
 
 Contra famosum ationymi cujusdam libellum, in quo 
 senatus populusqne Ang'licanus tiirpissimis convitiis 
 laceral)atiir, quern jam vulg^onotum est, Salniasii frram- 
 niatici infarne opus fuisse, prodiit nuper Joaniiis Miltoni 
 Aiioli pro patria sua defensio. Liber saiiti probus, 
 otnniunique doctorum virorum judicio domi forisque 
 multum approbatus. Qui cum talis esset, expectabatur 
 quidera vel Salmasii ipsius, vel alius alicujus viri lite- 
 rati responsio. Illarum certe partium maffni intererat 
 electum aliquem et disertum virum ad causam suam 
 jam diu laborantem et ruentem adhibuisse. Cum ecce 
 demum ex omnibus illis rumorem montibus, quos assi- 
 due fama nostras ad aures afferebat, tandem prorepit 
 exiguus iste mus, qui niisere stridens rodit tantummodo, 
 aliud quidem nihil agit; vel, ut veriiis dicam, inanes 
 quasdam mortiunculas captat, dentemquein dente fati- 
 gat, autborem certe non laedit, ejus autem argumento- 
 rum vim et acumen ne assequitur quidem. Mirati 
 primiimsumusquis esset; nomen enim ignobile, futili- 
 tatis certe sute conscius, celat. Ciim vero libellus ejus, 
 macri nescio cujus et jejuni ingenii indicium, perlectus 
 esset, in eo statim, tanquam in speculo, virum conspex- 
 imus. Quis igitur sit, post videbimus. Hoc vero jam 
 tacere non possum, hominem quendam valde obscurum 
 et vilem eum esse apparere; qui tamen arrogantia sua 
 mendaciisque fretus, ut morientem et pene defunctam 
 regis sui causam aliquantulum resuscitare videretur, 
 hominumque animos jam sedatos, et judiciis Dei statim 
 acquieturos, iterum commoveret atque irritaret, Dei 
 Omnipotentis voluntati,summ8eque justitise se opponere 
 (quam ille tam insignibus et mirandis irse suae exem- 
 plis in regem, regisque fautores editis, omnibus vult 
 esse notam) et supremos reipublicae nostrse Magistratus 
 accusare, convitiisque indignissimis infamare ausus est. 
 Veruntamen ita obtorpescit, tara insulsus est, tamque 
 somniculosum se glirem praebet, ut certissimum causae 
 suae jam languentis, et in totura pene perditae omen 
 prae se fert. Omnium enim debilissimam atque iniquis- 
 simam certe causam illam necesse est esse, qua in de- 
 fendenda fautores ejus non solum armis, verum etiam 
 ratione et arguraeutis inferiores sint. Merito igitur 
 
 cum talis esset, ab ipso Miltono neglectus et contemptus 
 est. Multo enim indignior ab omnibus existimabatur, 
 quam ut spectata jam facundia limati illius atque culti 
 authoris ad eruenda sterquilinia, rabidamque loquacita- 
 tem tam effroenis atque stulti blateronis refutandam 
 descenderet. Verum ne inter suos perfugas inanis iste 
 rabula se venditaret et aliquid magnum, vel quod uno 
 sane prandiolo dignum sit, se scripsisse crederet, equi- 
 dem ciim in patriam pietate, turn instauratae nuper 
 libertatis apud nosamore ductus, necnon illi etiam viro 
 mibi semper observando, quem iste insectatur, multis 
 officiis devinctus, pati non poteram, quin bujus iiieptis- 
 simi uebulonis petulantiam retundendam mibi, ne ro- 
 gatus quidem, susciperem. Quemadmodum igitur 
 Romani olim tirones in palum se primo gladiis et pilis 
 exercebant, ita ego in hunc caudicem stylum acuere et 
 ingenii vixdnm pubescentis rudimenta deponere baud 
 incommode me posse confido. Cum adversario enim 
 tam insipido et vulgari, exiguo saltem quivis ingenio, 
 et eruditione quantumvis leviter imbutus, etiam de ira- 
 proviso congredi sine periculo poterit. Prius igitur 
 quam opus ipsum aggrediar, operae pretium videtur, au- 
 tborem huj us Apologise illustrem, si diis placet, et diser- 
 tum, in occulto tamen latentem, investigare. Sunt 
 qui dicunt nomen illi Jano esse, obscuro bomini 
 et bonarum literarum rudi, ex illo grege leguleiorum 
 quos pragmaticos vocant. Verum cum meminissem 
 bifrontem esse Janum, alterum sincipitium in ejus oc- 
 cipitio quaerendum mibi esse statui. Itaque alteri sin- 
 cipitio nomen, uti ego indiciis quibusdam comperi, Bram- 
 malo est. Is librum nuper stjlo atque sensu huic pen^ 
 geminum scripsit Anglice EiKovoKXaTJjv, cujus et hunc 
 fetum esse baud temere plures autumant. Virum 
 igitur, quanquam et hie vultum in occipitio gerit, si 
 libet, cognoscite. Nam, ut ipse profitetur, theologiae 
 doctor est, et episcopus Hibemiensis. Is cum ab 
 ineunte aetate homo discinctus et ebriosus, episcoporum, 
 qui tunc in Anglia dominabantur, luxum, opes, am- 
 bitionem ante oculos haberet,inedia pressus et latrantis 
 stomachi instinctu, nihil sibi utilius esse duxit, quam 
 ut sacerdotis munere indutus, Ecclesiam, tunc quidem 
 
704 
 
 JOANNIS PHILIPPI RESPONSIO 
 
 Jupis omnibus patentcm, inradcret; et coiiciunculis 
 aliquot ad illorum tcmpnrum pravitatcm compositis in- 
 structus, quas de srripto recitandas circunifcrre solebat, 
 nobiliuin iiominum mciisas, et sacellani pin^uem ali- 
 quatn nicrccdeni, siqua ejusmodi offa se ohtulisset, 
 ambiebat; ubi cacnis quain lautissiniis, prccibus quain 
 brevissimis uterentur. Inter alios Derbite comiti sc 
 clanculiini offerebat. — Tandem veronequitiis coopertus, 
 benevoleiitiara et favorera comitis Strafford i8e,proregis 
 in Hibernia, quem multiplicis nomine perduellionis 
 totus populus ad supplieium tandem poscebat, assenta- 
 tioiiibus et impudentia turpiter aucu|)atu.s est. lUe 
 hominem se nactum esse ratus ad omnia facinora pa- 
 ratum, quique populum adtilatoriis et aulicis concio- 
 nibus suis ad suscipiendum servitutis juffum paratiorem 
 redderet, episcopum eum Derriensem in Hibernia cre- 
 avit Jam vero post expulsos reges et prselatos, ad 
 priorem vita; inopiam redactus, rursus esuriens, " Cu- 
 rium" nunc " simulat" qui " Bacchanalia" modo vixit; 
 ntque pietatis obtentu cunctam rabiem in cos effun- 
 deret, qui et ipsum et ceeteros istiusmodi latrones ovili- 
 bus Ecclesiae opimis expulerunt, spe etiam nonnulla 
 ampliorem aliqucm episcopatum,mendaciorum suorum 
 et audaciae prtemium sub minore Carolo devorandi, pel- 
 lem ovinam induit, nil praeter pietatem et sanctinio- 
 niam prae se fert ; ita tamen, ut oblong'a lupi cauda 
 infra institam sacerdotalem facile appareat. 
 
 En virum egregium prte caeteris qui apologiam pro 
 rege et populo Anglicano scribendam sibi sumit! Age 
 ▼ero, pro " rege" ut libet. Sed quid tu pro " populo 
 Anglican©," qui Dominum tuum Straffordium, hostem 
 populi acerrimum meritis poenis affecit, teque pessimum 
 ejus in Ecclesia Hiberniensi ad omnia scelera rainis- 
 trum pari supplicio affecisset, nisi aut fuga aut obscu- 
 ritas tua eorum manibus, qui Dominum plectebant, te 
 furem eripuisset. Cur etiam apologiam " pro populo?" 
 An pro iis qui regem puniverunt? baud credo; dices, 
 pro iis qui regi favehant periodus ? At illi id non re- 
 quirunt, ut qui, facta pace, modice multati, sua jam 
 bona secure possideant, suamque fidem reipublicae nos- 
 trae obstrinxerint. Unde tua ista apologia autabsurda 
 plan^ est, aut nimium intempcstiva. Veruni tu is 
 homo es, qui titulum istum libri tui, utpote speciosum, 
 vel cum maxima quavis absurd itate arripere voluisti : 
 Contra " Joannis" scilicet " Poljpragmatici " defen- 
 sionem. Sic ejus nimirum contra Claudium Anony- 
 roum, satis concinne quidem dictum, si Claudium cum 
 Anonymo conjunxeris, insulse imitaris. Veriim non is 
 polypragniaticus est, qui libertalem landat, tyrannos 
 damnat, civium suorum recte et decor^ facta defendit; 
 sed tu potius, tuique similes vere sic dici debent, qui 
 cum ecclesiasticos esse vos profiteamini, et Ecclesiam 
 Testra polypragmatica perdidistis, et rerum civilium 
 administrationcm nibil ad vos pertinentem perpetuo 
 conturbatis. Sed causa suberat gravis cur scriberes, 
 credo, contra " defensionem" Miltoni " destructivam." 
 
 Brammale die nobis cujum pecus ? anne iatinum ? 
 Non, verum monachorum, illi sic rure loquuntur. 
 
 Cognoscite jam hominem in ilia ncmpe barbaric scho- 
 lasticorum quam in clarorum authorum puritate ct 
 
 sapientia versatiorem, quorum lucem vespertilio is< 
 ferre nunquam potuit. Unde demum prodeat apologi 
 ista videamus. " Antverpia;" hoc enim solum pr 
 clarus iste protestantium episcopus, asylum, ut videtui 
 invenire sibi potuit, inter jesuitarum et monachorui 
 catervas, quibuscum tales pseudcpiscopi libentissim 
 esse Solent. Rect«^ igitur meo judicio et se dign 
 faciunt protestantes cxteri, qui turbatores istiusmod 
 errabundos suis ccetibus abigunt. Saltem non ausu 
 est apud ullara Batavorum civitatem hoc suum opuscu 
 lum typis mandare, veritusne illustrissimi fnederatorui 
 ordincs, ut Salmasii nuper sui libellum public^ dar 
 narunt, ita se quoque extorrem et erraticum nebulc 
 nem multo severius punirent. Quod illis quidem ii 
 laudem atque honorem, huic merito in opprobriui 
 cedere debet. 
 
 Jam ad lectoremqu8eflampnEfatur,etpaucasane, se 
 quae stultitiam hominis et ignorantiam illiteratam plu 
 nimio prodant. Queritur " unam tantum " Salmasi 
 " impressioneni," idque " magna cum difficultate ii 
 lucem erupisse;" ejus autem libri quem Miltoni 
 scripsit " tot esse exemplaria, ut " nesciat " cui lectorei 
 remitteret." Itaque nihil hie reperio, cur non amic 
 nostro gratulemur, Salniasium salse rideamus. Annoi 
 haec satis ad arguendam causse tuae foeditatem vis 
 sunt? Miltonum omnes cum favore et plausu teips 
 teste legunt ; Salmasium abjiciunt, nihili faciunt. Hi 
 tua pervicacia adeo non movetur, ut omnes idcirc 
 " mortales veritatem odisse, mendaciorum et convitic 
 rum amore flagare," impudentissime accuses, ipse ir 
 terim non apostolus, non propheta, neque evangelist! 
 sed scortator et helhio satis notus, et ganeonum dui 
 taxat episcopus. Vos vero lectores, quos non huma 
 niter appellat, sed in ipso exordio tam petulanter pee 
 stringit, tam docti reprehensoris vestri imprimis sen 
 sum, deinde literas vereri jam discite ; primiim enii 
 ait Miltoni defensionem " invidios6 elaboratam," dt 
 iude tot excusis exemplaribus approbatissimam ess 
 fatetur; hoec san6 apud omnes qui Latine intelligui 
 pugnantia sunt. Turn " tot sunt," inquit, " illius ej 
 emplaria, ut nescio cui lectorem remitterem." Satiu 
 tu quidem, qui vel prima pagina soloecismos evitai 
 non potes, ad Orbilii cujusvis flagra remittendus < 
 apud quem nulla poteris apologia uti, quin omnes 
 pueri virgis et ferulis pulchr^ depexum atque ornatui 
 dimittant. Verum te jam prinio auguror hac in part 
 baud raro peccaturum, qui tam rem mane incipi 
 Neque lectorem stulte alloqui satis habes, sed eo etiai 
 ulterius audacise processisti (quo vitio ignorantia mai 
 ime laborare solet) ut Leidensi Academiae celeberriral 
 incptias tuas foetidissimas epistola etiam stultissin* 
 scripta dedicare ausus sis. " Alumnum " te academis 
 " quondam " fuisse affirmas. Tunc vero academia- 
 ullius unquam alumnus, cujus infantice propemodum 
 illiterata; quemlibet vel in agris Itidum literarium pu- 
 deret ? Leidensem autem " alumnum " fuisse unquam 
 te dicere au<lere, dubium tibi ne sit, quin ilia academia 
 vehementissimc indignetur; niajori enim contumelia 
 urbem illam afficerc non potes, cujus te " quondam 
 alumnum" fuisse praedicas ; quanquam illud " quon- 
 dam," si unquam fuit, multoruni postca aunorum era- 
 
AD APOLOGIAM ANONYMI CUJUSDAM TENEBRIONTS. 
 
 785 
 
 pula in lustris atque popinis jam diii proluisti. SecI et 
 tu " eomm tutelam expetis." Hominura stupidissime, 
 tutcJatii tu tiue barbariue in musarum domicilio quneris, 
 quarum hoc ipsum niuiius est, vinctam barbariem 
 catenis in terras ultimas exterminare : nescis medios 
 dilapsus in hostes. Saltern dum academicos^illoqueris, 
 i Simula te literatum quempiam esse, vel ad punctura 
 j temporis, si potes. " Salmasius," ais, " mihi ansani 
 pracbuit qui tamen omnibus arripuit:" qusenam ista 
 ! balbuties est ? Fac modo acidemia, quam interpellas, 
 te intellig'at alumnum suum, vix credo annotinum. 
 ** Nee calamum," inquis, "in manum sumere aude- 
 rem " (sapuisses tu quidem si ausus non fuisses) " nisi 
 Miltoni amentia me invitum provocasset." At ille te 
 non majfis provocavit, quam qui prsetereunt importu- 
 num et improbissimi oris canem, quem inani latratu 
 inscquentem ita contemnit, ut vix fuste te dij^netur aut 
 calce. " Quid Tero," inquis, " ab extero qui inter in- 
 hospitales Caucasos vitam degit, expectari poterit ? " 
 Nihil sand : Expectationem tu nostram minimi fefel- 
 listi: ncque certe erat opus ut te inter Caucasos vitam 
 degerc fatcrerc, lin<»'ua te tua ipsique mores barbarum 
 clamitant: Tuaque ilia Caucasea "poma" si dare 
 velles, scito omnes Alcinoos mafjnopere aspernari. Ad 
 academiam quereris inter alia quod " Banausi et Me- 
 cbanici in pulpitam ascenderunt." Perdoctus tu qui- 
 dem et idoncus, qui Banausos, et Mechanicos in pul- 
 pitum ascendentes insecteris, qui pariter atque illi 
 grammaticse rudis, baud illismajfis pulpitum declinare 
 potcs. Postremo " Alienijjenam " te " Anglum " ap- 
 pellas. " Id" quidem rectissime : Alienaenim sentis, 
 aliena loqueris, quidni alieni^enam te Anj^lum esse 
 dicas, id est spurium, quem Anjjli veluti purgamentum 
 suae patrite atque piaculum jure quidem ad Caucasos 
 ablegiirunt. 
 
 IN PR^LUDIUM AD 
 PR^FATIONEM. 
 
 In proeludiis esse se existimat vir gravis; ludos ut 
 Tidetur episcopales mox editurus. Favete spectatores 
 Ludioni episcopo. Verum putaret quis hominem non 
 prologum agere, sed in ipso prooemio Orestem insanum 
 aut Athamanta saltare. " Ne insaniens cacodoemon 
 Johannes Miltonus, &c." O mitem et mansuetum ! 
 quam non iracundd, quam humaniter exorditur! quod 
 aliis, quamlibet furentibus, extremum maledicentice est, 
 id huic pro levi tantum prteludio habetur. Sed hoc 
 novum non est : sic enim Pharistei olim, veri ejus pro- 
 geuitores, Christum ipsum a cacodaemone agitari dice- 
 bant; ut nemo vel hoc vel pejus in se dici, prsesertim 
 ab hoc episcopo vere diabolico, moleste ferat. Offen- 
 ditur imprimis quod Miltonus reipubl. insignia, quem- 
 admodum Salmasius regis in fronte libri posuit. Hoec 
 ille posita ibi ait tanquam ftenum in cornu, " ut cuncti 
 sibi caverent;" quod hoc ad alios nescio. Te vero 
 Brammale non miror foenum in cornu usque adeo hor- 
 
 rescere, quoties tot tua adulteria animo revolvis. Omitto 
 deinde quae de cruce Aircifer atque etiam de lyra stul- 
 tissime deliras: et certe prseludia professus, nihil aliud 
 nisi nugas agis. " Parlamentum et concilium satis 
 CBtatis habent seipsos armis defendere." Atqui tuum 
 erat potius cogitare, satisne oetatis haberes Latine ut 
 possis ad ipsum scribere. " Sed ringit ilium Salma- 
 sius," vel ut postea perdocte sane emendavit, " ringit 
 ille pro Salmasio," (menda an emendatio vitiosior sit, 
 lectorum esto judicium,) "peregrinos veretur: num tu 
 credis quod tot nefanda, &c." Vaetibi Prisciane! nam 
 solcEcismos hie non singulos, sed turmatim effundit. 
 Quam vero peregrinos vereatur Miltonus, et imprimis 
 ilium Thrasjbombomachidem Salmasium, qui libros 
 ejus perlegerit abuntle norit. " Etfo," inquis, "liber- 
 tatem peto a libero suo populo Anglicano, ut quod in 
 re tanti ponderis libere proferre possim." Tunc ut 
 quicquam quod liberum sit liber^ proferre possis, man- 
 cipium aulee fcedissimum, Straffordii famulus et minis- 
 ter, gulae etiam atque inguini turpissimd serviens epis- 
 copus ? Quem populus opinor universus de libertate 
 concionantem veluti obsccenum portentum abomina- 
 retur; vel etiam lapidibus obrueret, aut siquid mitius, 
 ecquis hue vincula et compedes, exclamarent; ut Ro- 
 mani olim, Claudii quodam aulico ad concionandum 
 misso, " lo, Saturnalia!" repente clamabant. Nam 
 servis Romte, nisi festis Saturnalibus, libere loqui non 
 licebat. " Nos," inquis, " super dejectos cantandoepi- 
 niceia triumphamus." Rect^ quidem super hostes qui 
 propter commoda quredam sua cum tyranno conjurati, 
 patriam ad servitutem redigere conabantur: et epinicia 
 nos quidem minimi omnium superbe cantamus, Deo 
 semper gloriam tribuimus. Verum quid sibi volunt 
 "epiniceia" tua, Bardocuculle ? An quia tarn strenufe 
 pergrtecari solitus es, Grsec^ idcirco intelligere te putas? 
 "Angit" Miltonum, inquis, "quod Salmasius extra- 
 neus aliquam notitiam caperetillarum rerum, quae nunc 
 fiunt in Anglia : " non quod "notitiam caperet," sed 
 quod rerum nihil ad se pertinentium arbitrum se faceret, 
 veritatem turpissimis mendaciis perverteret, quos non 
 norat, in eos convitiis et contumeliis inveheretur. 
 " Fures," inquis, " lucem timent." Tu igitur fur om- 
 nium pessimus, qui lucem times et nomen celas. Sacra 
 etiam impuris manibus attrectas. Prov. 29. Ciim 
 boni regnant, populus gaudet ; ciim mali dominantur, 
 populus dolet : ea de causa cum Carolus dominabatur, 
 populus dolebat. Quod omnes satis meminerunt. Ne- 
 que leve signum est, eos jam gaudere, bonis remp. ge- 
 rentibus; Carolum enim filium, etiam cum exercitu 
 jam venientem,etlibertatem, qua incedit, omnibus pol- 
 licentem, tanquam hostem aversantur ubique, et fu- 
 giunt, vi etiam et armis cum summa alacritate propul- 
 sant. 
 
 Quam autem sis ineptus nunquam clarius perspi- 
 citur, quam cum de te loqueris, ut hie. " Fateor," in- 
 quis, " ut huic veteratori respondeam, me multo infe- 
 riorem bonis omnibus et adjumentis vitae spoliatuni." 
 Quibusnam bonis ? Si bonis animi, doctrina et ingenio 
 sis inferior, cjh- non parem tubi congressum potius 
 quccsivisti ? Sed is puto es, qui esse doctum, esse 
 eloquentem nihil aliud nisi esse divitem existimes: 
 
766 
 
 JOANNIS PHILIPPI RESPONSIO 
 
 ut bonis externis et vitoe adjumentis spoliatus si 
 sis, doctrina quoque et ingenio spoliatus tibi vide- 
 are. Ain' vero tii " bonis omnibus spoliatuin te 
 esse?" Callidus niinis es et vafer, cupis celare divitias 
 tuas, reruni non potes. ludicabo egu tc et facultates 
 tuas. Pra^ter ilia bona, quae erepta tibi esse dicis, re- 
 stat adhuc tibi, non enim celabis, ingens, eoque ingen- 
 tius, quod nemo tibi eripiet, solcDcismorum peculiam ; 
 in eo genere divitiarum, neminem te locupletiorem 
 cognovi. Extonrem prteterea te esse queritaris ; vah 
 quam indigne ! Ut perspicias igitur quam sum pro te 
 sollicitus, est in Ciiicia oppidum Soli antiquum, ut per- 
 hibcnt, et satis amplum ; illuc omnes qui soloecismos 
 tam strenue facere solent, coloniam ducunt; sarcinas 
 igitur quam primum collige, eo enim te, tuasque 
 omnes facultates suadeo transferas. Pemiagna ibi 
 te latifundia, mihi crede, manent, immo, nisi fallor, 
 Solteconim omnium principatum facile unus obtinebis. 
 Verum quod nullum tibi unquam fuit (si ingenium di- 
 cis quo inferiorem te factum fateris) id tibi nos scilicet 
 eripuisse insimulas. Cum te contra ab adversario 
 niultas dictiones, et apte usitata ab eo verba inepte suf- 
 furari non pudeat. " Superbire" Miltonum ais, " no- 
 minibus suis et titulis in frontispicio suspensis." Quae 
 ille nomina praeter suum, quos ille titulos in froute libri 
 suos posuit? An ideo superbus, quia se sui Deque no- 
 minis neque causse pudebat? Haeccine tibi " phylac- 
 teria" sunt? " Salmasium," inquis, Miltonus, " tan- 
 quam anonym urn commitiis et scommatibus scurrilibus 
 persequitur : " multo certe sermonis lepore et facetiis in 
 hominem jocatur, tu scurrile quicquam ab eo dictum 
 nequis ostendere. " Sed seculo ventiiro omnes Miltoni 
 hoc nomine misere vapulabunt, ne forte" (id est ejus 
 loquela, nisi forte) "judicet mundus, &c." Quicquid 
 de Miltonis seculo venturo fiat, tu vates ventriloquus 
 et infantissimus fide nulla es dignus. " Sed nil novi 
 Tiros optimos nomina sua reticuisse." Nempe quia tu 
 ita facis. " Sic sanctus Paulus ad Hebraeos;" scripsit 
 enim ad nationem suo nomini infensissimam, de rebus 
 admodum novis et parum creditis; tu vero populo An- 
 glicano, tu exteris tibi et causae tuce, ut ipse ais, mi- 
 nime iniquis, de re notissima, et apud omnes gentes, ut 
 idem ais, receptissima, et tamen male tibi conscius no- 
 men occultas. " Sic Beza." Recte meministi, scrip- 
 sit enim " Vindicias contra Tjrannos," quas tu inter 
 " veritates" illas, " quae, ut nunc temporis, vix hiscere 
 audebant," recenses. " Virtus," inquis, apud nos " vitio 
 vertitur.'' Quia Brammali scilicet virtutes, ebrietas, 
 voracitas, alea, scortatio, vitia habentur. " Std Canta- 
 brigia et Oxonium suis invictis declarationibus se ab 
 hoc crimine liberarunt." At invictae illse declarationes 
 fatuitatis et vaecordiae facile evincuntur : academiarum 
 enim non erant, sed praelatorum factionis, quae ibi re- 
 liqua erat. Rectiiis nunc sapiunt academite. " Gene- 
 Tarn," inquis, " Deodatus" hoc crimine " liberavit." 
 Solus fortasse sensum ille suum, non totius academiae 
 judicium explicavit. " Leydam quoque Salmasius." 
 Non Leydensis tamen, sed extcrnus. Leydenses liber- 
 tate prius recuperata, quam literis clari erant. 
 
 *' Tot ergo doctorum et bonorum agmine circumval- 
 latus," vix uno videlicet atque altero, " faciam rem non 
 
 di(!icilcD), causam Dei omnipotentis dicturus," Dti 
 nimirum tui, hoc est ventris, aut Bacclii, qui tibi oni- 
 nipotens est; cujus auspiciis Brammalus 
 
 Grammaticus, geometra, minister, alipta, sacerdos. 
 Augur, scoenobates, medicus, magus, omnia novit. 
 Brammalus esuriens, in coelum, jusseris, ibit. 
 
 Sed eodem credo successu, quo grammaticatur. Nam 
 " in tantam crevit audaciam, ut quicquid libet dicerc, 
 licet:" haec ejus syntaxis est. " Sed" Miltonus " mo- 
 narchiam e mundo tollere laborat." Die ubi ? Omni- 
 bus enim populis semper hoc liberum reliquit, sive mo- 
 narcbiam vellent, sive aliani regiminis formam ; tan- 
 tummodo nolentibus imponi noluit. Ad soloecismos 
 tuos redeo, qui jam vix intermittunt; " Quidni Salma- 
 sio non pepercit rabula .'* Videtur tamen sua canina fe- 
 rocia catenis vinctus vel potius vinciendus, qui omnes 
 undique mordit." Unde tibi isti nitores oratiouis et 
 lumiua, Brammale ? Fieri non potest, quin omnes ob- 
 scurorum virorum epistolas et loculos expilaveris. Cri- 
 mini das Miltono, " quod is in partem adjutorii" (ejus 
 enim barbarismis utor) " Deum vocet." Facis ut te 
 decet episcopum atheum et prophanum. Sed miraris 
 " qua fronte" Miltonus " ausus est dicere," se " haec, 
 jubente parlamento, evulgasse." Primum Miltonus 
 hoc nusquara dicet; sed dixisse finge, ut cert^ fingis, 
 quid tu contra.' " Si vera," inquis, " narrat, ubi Brown, 
 vel Elsing, vel Scobel, clerici parlamentariorum .'' " 
 Nae tu homo vere minutulus es, et uullius pretii : ni- 
 hilne putas jubente atque etiam libente parlamento 
 prodire in lucem posse, nisi cui nomen clerici parla- 
 meutarii adscribatur.'' Mirum est tot tibi nugas cogi- 
 tanti non hoc etiam in mentem venisse, quod vulgo 
 dicitur, 
 
 Clericus in libro non valet ova duo. 
 
 Praesertim cujus tu farinae clericus es, qui mediocriter 
 saltem Laline non intelligis ; si enim intellexisses, non 
 haec ejus verba, " quae authoritate parlamenti scripta 
 et declarata sunt," de ejus libro dicta existimares, veriira 
 de publicis parlamenti scriptis, et declarationibus pas- 
 sim editis. Neque te quicquam ex verbis ejus lucra- 
 tum esse censisses, quanivis quod dixisse eum falso ac- 
 cusas, " factionem" rempubl. dixisset; factionem enim 
 tam in bonam quam in nialam partem olim dici vel 
 pueris notum est. Progrederis deinde. " Una factiu 
 erat et armis se tuetur (non jure) tui." Quid tu hie 
 tibi velis .'' Si capis ipse, bene est, ego quidem non 
 capio. Ut nee sequentia tua de " parlamento supremo, 
 concilio summo, de grammatica" denique " comparandi 
 gradibus laborante." Id te angit potius quod hierar- 
 chia tua gradibus laborat. " Hunc," inquis, " honorem 
 Deo ceditis, ut dum vos vestris mundanis gaudeatis, 
 n^ minimam religionis aut animarum curam suscipere 
 velle, palam profitemini." En iterum focde soloecum ! 
 Sed sane dignum est, et tu, qui animarum cura quid 
 sit, nunquara scivisti,eam civili gladio commissam cre- 
 deres. Nos verd, ais, " magno impetu prostcmimus 
 vertE religionis cultures." Hostes quidem civiles et 
 proditorcs, religionis autem cultorcs, religionis causa 
 Don prosternimus. " Salmasium" deinde crepas: tace 
 
AD APOLOGIAM ANONYMI CUJUSDAM TENEBRIONIS. 
 
 767 
 
 de Salmasio, ille suos patitur manes, et in Suecorum 
 aula jam diu friget. Sed Miltonus, ut omnes respub- 
 licas et " illustiissimos etiam Hollandiae ordines" in 
 partes siias pelliceret, " illorum principi " oblatrat. 
 Advertite Hollandi,principem nupermortuum, vestrum 
 principem appellat, nee vosquidem liberos esse patitur. 
 Cavete, duin licet, ne pervagante hujusinodi aulicorum 
 doctrina elatus, alter quispiam apud vos princeps ac 
 dominus succrescat. Tandem " prceludium" hoc grandi 
 solaecismo pene claudit, " ha'reditarium regis imperiuni, 
 cui totus populus per multos annos juratus consen- 
 tierunt." Vos lectores eruditi, quotquot literas huma- 
 niores amatis, praefantem hunc Bavium, immo barba- 
 rum, odio quo dignus est, et sibilo prosequimini. 
 
 CAP. I. 
 
 PRiELUDiis amotis fabulam expectabamus, promissas 
 nimirum illas Miltoni confutationes. Et cert^ hoc 
 sensu revera fabulam agit ; eorum enim quae promisit, 
 nihil prtestat ; sed partim maledictis, partim insulsis 
 regice fortunae miserationibus totum hoc caput exhau- 
 rit. " Non sura," inquit, " tarn audax Phormio, ut 
 Salmasio me compararem, quam Miltonus, qui se Sal- 
 masio opponere auderet." Nse tu Phormio quis fuerit 
 in conioedia parum videris intelligere. At quid ais ? 
 " Miltoiium Salmasio opponere se audere," grammati- 
 corum Pyrgopolynici? Facinus ingensuarras. "Nam 
 si authoritate," inquis, " dirimcnda lis sit, plus fidei 
 uni Salmasio, quam mille niillenis Miltonis omnes in- 
 genui et docti darent." At vero qui authoritatera vel 
 Salmasio vel Miltono dant, nisi quam eorum alteruter 
 ratione et argumentis sibi acquirit, ipsi neque docti, 
 neque ingenui sunt. Miltonum exteris antehac ig- 
 notum Veritas et ratio commendavit: Salmasium inane 
 nomen, et niultiB lectionis opinio commendare sine 
 ratione non valuit, quin ab amicis etiam ejus, et fautor- 
 ibus longe inferior in hoc certamine sit judicatus. Tu 
 totam de patribus disputationem satis callide abs te 
 amoves, et quos nunquam consulueris. " Miltonum in 
 plurimis Salmasio castigandum relinquis." Munus pro- 
 fecto satis arduum Salmasio reliquisti, qui Miltoni re- 
 sponsum cum legeret, ita, ut videtur, perculsus est et 
 quatefactus, ut, soluta alvo, in latrinam putem confu- 
 gisse : unde scripsit ad amicos, cacabundus in haec verba : 
 " Ego istum Miltonum permerdabo et permingam." 
 Balistam satis validam in postico geras oportet, Salmasi, 
 qua merdas tam longe contorquere aut explodere te 
 posse putas. Hinc est quod tam foetida meditantem jam 
 diu in aula Suecise foetere te dicant : neque mirura est, si 
 Sueciseregina.quamvisopinionevulgiprimumdecepta, 
 nunc suo acri judicio compertum te et cognitum tam 
 olentem Mtsevium a se abjecerit. Ferunt alii, cum pa- 
 ginam unam atque alteram responsi illius percurrisset, 
 furore correptum sic subito rodomontari caepisse. " Ego 
 perdam istum nebulonem et totum parlamentum." Htec 
 verba ipsius ad nos delata retuli ; et san6 si istiusmodi 
 homo est, non is idoneus qui castigct alios, sed qui ipse 
 
 castigetur, in phreneticorum potius gymnasium depor- 
 tandus. Progredere, " praetermissis," ut ais, " oratoriis 
 et verisimilibus et Cicerone, Aristotele, Euripide, So- 
 phocle, et aliis ethnicorum scriptis. Non enim Christi- 
 anis necessario recurrendum est ad ethnicos." Nescis 
 ergo Salmasium tuum banc prius afFectasse viam ? 
 Miltonus eo tantiim adversarium secutus est provocan- 
 tem. Tu vero interim hypocrita ignaviae tuse consulis, 
 qui cum nullum san^ bouum, aut facundum authorem 
 unquam attigeris, id studio pietatis non fecisse te simu- 
 las. Miltonus aiebat, " pater nos genuit, non rex." 
 Tu inde nomen patris a specie ad numerum detorques, 
 utcaptiones hincquasdam etamphibolias frigidissimas 
 consuere possis; quas ne recitatione quidem dignas exis- 
 timo, adeo sunt ineptae et mucosae. " Si vero," inquis, 
 "rex juvenis uxorem anibiens papam patrem sanctissi- 
 mum appellaverit, non tam acri censura perstrigendus." 
 Sic Zimri juvenis Moabissam uxorem ambiensareliglo- 
 ne vera defecit ; an excusatior idcirco est ? " Probabile," 
 vero, ais, " esse quod literam secretariis suis scribendam 
 commisit." E6 magis culpandus, qui rem tanti mo- 
 menti, quaeque religionem atque honorem suum in dubi- 
 um vocarc poterat, secretariis tam miuime probis com- 
 miserit. Veriim et nos "regem Hispaniarum regem 
 Catholicum" appellamus. Istarum literarum exemplar 
 aequum est te proferre, si potes, sicuti nos regis ad 
 papam protulimus. " Et quidni," inquis, " papara 
 patrem sanctissimum appellaveritis, si in polilicis vobis- 
 cum sentiret." Sic scurrae solent deprehensi ; quod se 
 fecisse constat, id alios facere velle calumniantur. 
 Hos mores scurrarura lepidissime depingit Plautus : 
 
 Nihil est profecto stultius atque stolidius, 
 Neque mendaciloquius, neque perjurius, 
 Quam urbani assidui cives, quos scurras vocant ; 
 Qui omnia se simulant scire, nee quicquam sciunt. 
 Quod quisquam in animo habet, aut habiturus est, sciunt. 
 Quae neque fulura, neque facta sunt, tamen illi sciunt. 
 " Si hos vermes," ais, " rcgum auribus insidiantes, et 
 velut intus existentes, prohibent alienum, ut neminem 
 sibi fidelem audire poterat, rex radicitus extirpasset, 
 &c." Credo istos vermes et auribus et cerebro tuo in- 
 sidiantes, grammaticae rudimenta, siqua tibi insculpta 
 erant, penitus exedisse. Rursus "Deodatum" affers, 
 " qui regem nostrum unicum reformatae religionis de- 
 fensorem insignivit." At, inquam, longius abfuit 
 Deodatus, quam ut Carolum in cute nosse posset ; ne 
 dicam clausisse oculos, si post Rupellenses reformatos 
 tam aCarolo praeclare defensos hoc dixerit. Sed pergis, 
 " vobis qui Carolum e mundo sustulistis, tandem rede- 
 undi patetvia in ^gyptum, ex quo aegre detinemini." 
 Eja solorum decus, quam te jam in municipio tuo so- 
 lensi oblectas, a quo nemo te possit detinere, ne si 
 furca quidem expelleret. Miltonus, ais, " nee locum, 
 nee librum, ubi a se prolata" e summorum theologorum 
 libris " inveniemus, exhibet." At ista loca Miltonus 
 facile protulisset, nisi ipse Salmasius advei-sos sibi 
 plerosque reformatos theologos baud uno in loco fassus 
 esset; quje tamen loca eorum scripta legentibus ita 
 passim occurrunt.ut hinctua potius ignorantia constet, 
 qui neque illos, neque ipsum Salmasium praelegisse 
 videris. Jam " Davidis" exemplum omnibus notum 
 
708 
 
 JOANNIS PHILIPPI IlESPONSIO 
 
 narras. Rationes autem illas, qiias attulit Miltonus ; 
 cur exempluni illud ad causani haiic non pertineret, 
 non attin^s ; tantunimodo unctum Domini, uiictum 
 Domini int^eminas. Die sodes ergo, estne omnis rex 
 nnctus Domini P Omnis, ais, prcesertim Christianus. 
 Cur ersfd dux Josua quinque unctos Domini uno die 
 suspenditP Nam Christianos si dices non fuisse, ridicu- 
 lum est; quandoquidem Ciiristianum profiteri, cum sit 
 maleficus, neminem supplicio debito eximere potest. 
 " David," inquis, " viam nobis monstravit tolerantiie, 
 ut Deo judici relinquetur, qui imptenitentem percutiet, 
 ut morietur." Quid me cogis ? defessus jam pen^ 
 sum, solenses tuas delitias perambulando. Ad David- 
 em recurris; Salmasioresponsum erat eadem inculcanti, 
 Davidem privatum privatas injurias ulcisci noluisse. 
 Tm parlamcntum omne privatum esse dicis, regem Ca- 
 rohim, unctum Domini fuisse; nihil tamen horumpro- 
 bas; nihil ab adversario dictum cum ratione oppugnas. 
 ** Si ex aura populari," inquis, " diademata regibus 
 auferenda, quis non vellet se ex infima plebe terrae 
 fllium potius esse quani regem?" Id noli timere ; ut- 
 cunque non deessent reges. Neque te, credo, hoc de- 
 terrebat, quo minus episcopatum turpiterambires, quam- 
 vis populo invisum. " At Miltonus," ais, " dum potes- 
 tatem populi in reges suos imprudenter praedicat, reges 
 omnes esse tjrannos instruit." Sic sane ut lex instruit 
 bomicidas, quia vetat. 
 
 " Jam Troja maneret," ais. 
 
 " Consilio Priami si foret usa sems." 
 
 At vero noster Priamus, vel Paris potiiis, non Trojse 
 usus consilio, sed Helenoe suae, et se perdidit et regnum 
 suum. Jam ordine perrupto ad nonum puto vel deci- 
 nium caput excurris. Miltonum, ais, asseruisse, " nul- 
 lum membrum parlamenti absque proprio consensu in 
 judicium vocari posse, regem" autem tu saltern " mem- 
 brum " parlamenti esse dicis. Pragpropere tu quidem 
 id ibas petitum, quod nusquam erat, neque a quoquam, 
 quod meroini, tinquam dictum. Hoc etiam responsum 
 tulisse regem, cum quinque membra posceret falsissi- 
 mum est, quod ex ilia re gesta satis liquet. " Nosti," 
 inquis, " quod nisi a sicariis vestris impeditus populus 
 esset, regem e vestris manibus eripuissent." Verum 
 quos tu populum esse existimas, nos non putamus. An 
 vero regiorum gregem ilium perditum, totiesque dorai- 
 tum, populum appellas.'' Nos ita non existimamus : 
 victi bello, quod ipsi intulerant, jus populi amiserunt. 
 Miltonum gravitur accusas, quod dixerit, Salmasium 
 regis mortem inepte plorantem, legentium neminem 
 pilo tristiorem reddidisse. Non ergo in Miltonum, sed 
 in stolidissimas conducti ploratoris naenias culpam con- 
 ferre debes. 
 
 Men' moveat quippe, et cantet si naufragus, assem 
 
 Protulerim. Verum: nee nocte paratum 
 
 Plorabit, qui me volet incurpasse querela. 
 
 " Majori patientia," inquis, " ferunt episcopi convitia 
 tua." Episcoporum san^ patientia omnibus nota est. 
 Hie vero quasi interno dolore pcrculsus, magno fervore 
 et conatu, episcoporum ceercraonias et anibitiones as- 
 serere conteudis. Unde apcrtius licet conjicere, te 
 
 Brammalum lurconcm ilium quem antca diximus esse, 
 qui episcopos combiboncs, et commessatores tuos, belli 
 civilis faces, tam gnaviter defendis. " Quot du.verit 
 Hippia mojcoos," inquis, " innumerabiles sunt." At 
 multo magis innumerabiles, quot Brammulus fecerit 
 mcechas. " Sed rex noster," ais, " templa nostra dc- 
 ccnter ornavit et honoravit in honorem Dei, nunquam 
 in equorum stabulos convertebat." Nunquam, niihi 
 crede, templa vestra tam " decenter ornavit," quAui tu 
 Solorum templa egregiis tuis ornasti soloecismis, quo- 
 rum monumenta sane sempiterna nunquam intcribunt. 
 Te Deum omnes soloeci, te patronum tam praeclare de 
 illo municipio meritum coleut posthac in secula, et invo- 
 cabunt; in memoriam ctiam eloqucntiae tute tam asi- 
 ninoe, non scholas discipulis tuis, sed " stabulos " dica- 
 bunt. Regem autem vestrum aio minime omnium 
 " templa" omasse, sed ipsum potius in equorum stabula, 
 atque in haras etiam convertisse, dum tot immundos 
 prcelatos, tot porcos episcopos, te denique spurcissimum 
 in Ecclesiam introduxit. — " Regias" jam " partes agi," 
 dicis, si Presbj'terianos gravius incusemus. Nee tamen 
 Christus ipse et Apostoli, falsos Evangelii doctorcs, 
 fratres subdititios, religionis praetextu Ecclesiie insidi- 
 antes, mitius olim increpabaut. — An ergo dicta eorum 
 aut scripta " digladiari in se inviccra" dices, quod 
 suos vel libentes, vel deficientes a fide atque integri- 
 tate liberrim^ reprehenderent ."* " Ubi mutatur forma 
 reipublicae ex monarchia in aliam, non datur snccessio, 
 &c." Non hunc Miltonus solum, sed Salniasius " obi- 
 cem Carolo secundo" posuit; ejus enim verba sunt, si 
 advertisses. Verum tu, aut coecus aut demens, in socios 
 pariter ac hostes incurris. " Tanta," inquis, " illorum 
 astutia omnia obliterata sunt, ut conclamatum est de 
 viribus humanis ; sed nos qui per fidem in Deum ex- 
 pectamus resurrectionem futuram, &c." Apage sis 
 temulente. Quid tibi aut vinolentiis tuis cum fide, 
 quem si porcula tua majora ita consopirent, ut rcsurgerc 
 nunquam posses, feliciiis profecto consultum tibi foret. 
 " Scires libenter quid per populum" velinius. Scirem 
 ego vicissim, quid Romani per senatum populumque 
 Romanum voluerint. Quceris " quod remedium restat 
 populo contra tyrannidem parlamenti." Tuni id quo- 
 que dicam, cum causae quid erit; nunc supervacua ne 
 qusere. 
 
 CAP. II. 
 
 Definierat Salmasius regem " Deo solo minorem, 
 legibus solutum ; si nostram rempub. sic definiret ali- 
 quis," consensuros nos esse ais, qui tamen regis illam 
 definitionem oppugnavimus. Institutum hoc tuum 
 esse video, cum refutare nihil possis, posse saltern ca- 
 lumniari. " Et qui penetrabit" Miltoni "scripta," 
 inquis, " nil praeter barbariem et insaniam inveniet." 
 Dirumpi ergo necesse est te, qui tot viros doctos et 
 probos de Miltoni scriptis longd aliter sentire, invitus 
 quotidie ccrnis. Barbariem vero tu cuiquam impu- 
 deutissime .'* quem praiter lingute fatuitatem, cum 
 
AD APOLOGIAM ANONYMI CUJUSDAM TENEBRIONIS. 
 
 760 
 
 sensus bclluini et stupor, turn etiam mores in ipsa 
 vastitate barbarise natum atque nutritum clamant. 
 Utcunque tamen siquid affers audiamus. " Petrus su- 
 premum vocat regem." Siipereminentem quidem 
 vocat; idque vulgari potius loquendi more, quam vere 
 politico, pro eorum captu ad qiios scripsit. Sic consul 
 Romanus inraroz est vocatus, id est supremus, quo modo 
 et Polonite rex, et dux Venetiarura supremus vocari 
 potest; qui tamen, si politicas rationes accuratiiis inire 
 volumus, et multorum instituta reg-norum, supreini non 
 sunt. Ita igitur supremum vocasse reyera Apostolus 
 ceusendus est, ut tamen leges cujusque gentis, et jura, 
 et reipub. formam inviolatam esse vellet. — Et cert^ non 
 tam supremus quis sit, docet aut disputat, quam quas 
 ob causas et quatenus obedientiam sive supremis, sive 
 prtesidibus pnestare debeamus: id Miltonus copiose 
 explicuit; tu nescio an tuee conscientia vecordioe, con- 
 sulto prpetermittis. "Quasi," inquis, " triginta Atbe- 
 nis tyranni non plus poterant in damnum populi, quam 
 unus si maxime tyrannus esse voluerit." At inquam 
 ego contra, nuUus unquam fuit unus, " si maximd ty- 
 rannus esse voluerit," quin tyrannos non triginta solum, 
 sed trecentos, atque etiam multo plures in damnum 
 populi conslituere soleret : frustra igitur sub uno sive 
 monarcbia, tyranno melius populo fore speras: nuUus 
 enini in republica tyrannus unquam unus fuit, quin 
 plurimos sibi adsciscere tyrannos necesse habuerit. 
 " Rex si abutetur," inquis, " potestate sua in regni de- 
 trimentum, a suis subdilis impcdiri potest et debet." 
 Rect6 concedis : sed quousque impcdiri possitac debeat 
 non dicis. Potest enim tyrannus eousque procedere in 
 detrimentum regni, ut nisi vim vi repellamus, eumque 
 pro hoste habcamus, impedire nullo modo possimus. 
 Concedis igitur ipse, et frustra contendis veritate victus, 
 sed videri concedere non vis, pertinacise studiosior, 
 quam veritatis; nam quod impcdiri ais tyrannum de- 
 bere, " non in judicium trabi et capite plecti" vel " ab 
 uno" vel " ab omnibus," sed " Dei judicio relinqutn- 
 dum esse," nugse sunt, et gratis dictcc; quse singula, 
 non affirmanda, sed probanda tibi restant. Vis mo- 
 narchiam reipublicoe forma esse perfectiorem. Id nos 
 in praesentia non agimus. Tua tamen argumenta, quo- 
 niam vacat, videamus. " Introductara a Deo" dicis 
 "in ultimum et prtestantissimum remedium populo 
 totics ab inimicis subacto sub judicibus." — Primum cur 
 illud prajstantissimum remedium non primo potiiis, 
 quam ad ultimum adhibitum fuerit, cum Deus rempub. 
 suam quam prsestantissimis legibus formaret; deinde 
 cum Israelitoe regem peterent, post annos circiter 
 quadringentos subjudicibusexactos, si monarcbia prce- 
 stantissimum illud remedium Deo visum est, cur ab ea 
 dissuaserit populum suum ac determent, solum. Cur 
 denique petentes eos peccati gravissimi reos fecerint, 
 fac quaeso intelligaraus : " quod Theocratiam," inquis, 
 " rejicerent," nempe sub judicibus. At vero illi non 
 minus in monarcbia theocratiam retinere poterant, ac 
 debebant; sin minus, tu monarcbiam dum praestantis- 
 simam esse dicis, non theocratiam sed atheocratiam 
 cave dixeris ; in qua Deus tam prtesens regere suum 
 populum quam sub judicibus non potuit. Certe si 
 gubernantibus illis theocratiam in republica fuisse 
 
 dicis, ut certe fuit, hand aliam gerendae reipublicffi 
 formam prsestantiorem, ut sunt res mortalium, invenire 
 quisquam poterit. "Respondeat mihi," inquis, "tuus 
 populusAnglicanus, utrum ligneo Caroli jugo excusso, 
 aliquam miseriarum relaxationem inveniaut." Re- 
 spondet itaque jugum se Caroli ferreum a conscientiis 
 suis depulisse,jugum idem episcoporum; suavectigalia, 
 suosque census non nunc aulicoe luxuriae, et libidinibus, 
 sed vincendis hostibus et propagandis imperii finibus 
 ultro se impendere. " Leges," ais, " Mosi et regibus a Deo 
 datas quibus rcgant populum ; num populo lex data, ut 
 reges regeret.?" Immoaperte leges tam Mosi et regibus, 
 quam ctetero populo sunt datae, ut tam se, quam popu- 
 lum regerent ; sin minus, ita ut regerentur ab aliis, ut 
 ne lex Dei cuivis mortalium frustra daretur. " Quis 
 gerit," inquis, " gladium ? populus ?" Immo populus 
 per magistratum,quem sive unum sive plures ex omni 
 suo numero elegerit. Neque ullas propterea confu- 
 siones, quas metuis, excitari necesse erit. " Si vel 
 pedem," inquis, " figeres," de regibus actum erit Sb^ 
 irov rrjau) Kal ri^v yi^v Ktvriffw. Utinam pedem ipse 
 tandem figeres, Silene, si Brammalus es. Nam nos 
 locum, ubi stes ebrius, dare non possumus, quin ea 
 quae fixissima sunt et firmissima, tibi in gyrum nioveri, 
 et cum cerebro tuo semper madente circumnatare vide- 
 antur. " Quis te," inquis, " juramento regi prtBstito 
 liberare potuit."*" Juramentum ipsum, quo regi non 
 propter regem, sed reipubl. causa, obstricti fuimus; 
 quam ciim pcrditum iret, et suum ipse priiis jusjuran- 
 dum violavit, et nostrum solvit. Nihil enim naturae, 
 nihil rationi aut gentium juri contrarium magis esset, 
 qukm si regi jusjurandum suum violare ad libidinem 
 liceret, populus servare fidem ad perniciem suam tene- 
 retur. " Ut dicto audientes Mosi fuimus, ita erimus 
 tibi, modo Deus tecum sit, quemadmodum fuit cum 
 Mose." Sic Reubenitse ad Jehosuam. " Conditionem 
 hie nullam" vides " expressam." Ad Anticyras ergo 
 naviga, aut domi crapulam edormisce ; eras, mihi crede, 
 nihil expressius videbis, neque tam stulte interrogabis, 
 " quid si Deus Josuam desereret," sed quid si Josua 
 Deum desereret : tum enim quid facturi essent Reu- 
 benitce, tibi respondebimus. " Nutare mihi crede jus 
 regium videtur." Hoc de jure regio, prout Salmasius 
 describit, dictum est. Neque est hoc " monarcbiam 
 legitimam in Carolo trucidare,"quod tu toties invidios^ 
 et parasitice vociferaris. Nunc quod minime es, vatem 
 scilicet et concionatorem piissimum multis deinceps 
 verbis agere cupis ; dumque adulterum videri te 
 metuis, profers adulterinum. " Digitum Dei agnosci- 
 mus et veneramur punientem iugratum populum." 
 At populo bene est et prospere, quem tu nequicquam 
 ingratitudinisaccusas; tu potius Dei digitum agnosce, 
 te tuosque una cum omnibus tyranni fautoribus insig- 
 niter punientem. " Nondum," ais, " Hispania et Pon- 
 tificii velum abduxerunt." Quid nobis Hispaniam et 
 Pontificios toties immerito objicis ; qui non ignoremus 
 Carolum tuum minorem in Belgio commorantem lega- 
 tes ad Papam misisse, ut vel ab ipso Antichristo rex 
 reformatus contra patriam et reformatos auxilium im- 
 ploraret ? " Persecutro," inquis, " jam in Anglia max- 
 ima est, quae fuerat a tempore quo populus aliquis 
 
770 
 
 JOANNIS PHILIPPI RESPONSIO 
 
 inhabitabat." An major ea quam Brammalus in 
 Hibernia nuper cxcita\ it, qui curiam inqiiisitiuiiis, con- 
 scientiis honiinum tdm infestam ct tyraiinicam, primus 
 omnium in Hiberniiim introduxit. Te vcru ilhitn 
 ipsum fuisse sequentia clariiis ostendunt. In hoc enim 
 jam lotus es, ut Ecclesiasticam tyrannidem defcndas. 
 •• Nam quod tanta," inquis, "jam patimur, haec est 
 ratio proecipua, quod in aliquibus Anabaptistarum et 
 caeterorum omnium schismaticorum clamoribus viam 
 concedentes, uno dato absurdo sequuntur infinita." 
 Ipsissimus hie Brammalus ille antiquum obtines, qui re- 
 formats omnibus schismaticorum nomine infamatisom- 
 nem conscientite libcrtatem adimere perpetuo studebas. 
 Nunc illorum importunitati, id est, conscientite, etiam 
 nonnulla unquam concessa fuisse graviter doles. 
 " Reg'es An<»lornm jndicari posse a suis subditis," Mil- 
 tonum ais docere, " exemplo pravorum temporum, et 
 jure a sapientibus damnatis chartis obsoletis, et ob 
 multas corruptiones merito explosis." Quid isto ho- 
 minum genere absurdius aut impudentius ? quaerunt 
 modo quo jure, qua. lege factum quidque a nobis sit, 
 si leges non recitamus, contra eas fecisse nos judicant; 
 si leges nostras proferimus antiquas, ratas, atque notis- 
 simas, hi statim " obsoletas et merito explosas " esse 
 aiunt: nee tamen quo tempore explosse aut abrogatae 
 fuerint, usquam ostendunt. Ita, dum tyrannidem sine 
 autoritate asserere cupiunt, et vetera et nova pariter 
 rejiciunt. " Quidni," inquis, Uzzias rex leprosus " a 
 sacerdotibus templo deturbaretur, cum Deus leprae pro- 
 bendee, et leprosi omnis excludendi potestatem et 
 mandatum sacerdotibus dederat." At vero idem 
 Deus, lex eadem omnis malefici puniendi potesta- 
 tem et mandatum magistratibus dederat, neque ma- 
 gis tamen leprosi regis exturbandi, quam malefici 
 regis puniendi vel hie vel illic mentio facta est. Si 
 lepne judicio regem eximi non vis, quia nnminatim 
 non excipitur, eadem certe ratione neque ullis aliis 
 legibus aut judiciis regem exemeris. Sed video 
 quid agitis, ut regem quamvis vestra sententia supre- 
 mum, vobis tamen sacerdotibus subjiciatis, utque rex in 
 populum absoluto atque supremo dominaretur imperio, 
 vos sacrificuli supremo superiores eodem imperio domi- 
 naremini in regem. " Consensus," inquis, " populi et 
 inauguratio tantum adjuncta necessaria fuere." Hoc 
 in Saulc, Davide, ejusque posteris concedo, de quibus 
 nominatim creandis Dei mandatum preecesserat : tu 
 idem de Carolo aut ullis ejus majoribus ostende. 
 " Rex," ais, " nunquam pepigit cum populo, ut illi 
 eum castigarent si aliter quam bene regeret." Neque 
 populus cum rege pepigit, se illi, quicquid collibitum 
 est facienti, in pemiciem suam obtemperaturos. Neque 
 vero in private quovis syngrapho, ullus unquam pepigit 
 ut creditoribus liceret, si is debitum non solveret, lege 
 in eum agere, et in carcerem conjicere, ejusque bona 
 possidere, quoad plend sibi satisfactum esset. Haec et 
 istiusmodi quae accidere nollemus, in pactionibus et 
 foederibus vel honoris causa vel boni ominis consulto 
 non exprimimus; quia cum paciscimur, talia nunquam 
 cventura optamus; quae etiam sine monitis intelligere 
 per se quisque et cavere debet. Tu hie tritum illud 
 ingeris ; " per me reges regant;" fatemur, sicut et per 
 
 eum sunt, agunt, et moventur omnia : tu " modo pccu- 
 liari," inquis. Tu, inquam, de tuo hoc dicis, autori- 
 tatem verbi divini nuUani affers. Subjicis, " alioqui 
 cui fini ilia praecepta obediential in Novo Tcstamento." 
 Quotics tibi rcspundebitur, obcdientiam absurdam et 
 irrationabilem in Novo Testamento non prcccipi ; sed 
 qualis ea, et quibus, et quam ob causam pnestanda sit, 
 luculentissime doceri. Qui habet aures, audiat. " Qui 
 repugnant," inquis, " damnabuntur, quod proculduhio 
 nunquam minaretur Apostolus, si privatorum tantum 
 rationem vel paucorum habuerat." Quasi vero niulti 
 privati sine magistratuum authoritate seditiosi esse non 
 possint; quid hoc ad populum ciim magistratibus et 
 Parlamento contra tyrannos arma sumentem ? " Hoc 
 honore Deus dilectos suos decoravit, ut gentium reges 
 vinculis coercerent, &c." Id fieri dicis " Evangelicis 
 non legalibus catenis." Insipide prorsus. An viiidicta 
 ergo sic exercetur in gentes? An ferreaj compedes 
 Evangelii vincula sunt, quas Psalmus ille regibus et 
 proceribus minatur .-' Tu hoc, ut soles, de sacerdotibus, 
 non de bonis magistratibus et populo intelligi vis, qui 
 pontificale quoddam regnum tuorum in omnes La'icos 
 futurum somnias, " Israelitoe," inquis, " quia regem 
 rejecere, a Salmansore in captivitatem sunt abducti. 
 Judeei, qui regi Rehoboamo fideles manserant, sub 
 illius tutela securi vivebant." Historian! sacrae Scrip- 
 turae si consuluisses, non nescires Hierosolymas sub 
 ipso statim Rehoboamo a Sesako .Sgyptiorum rege 
 captas, et thesauris suis spoliatas, longe priiis quam 
 Israelitae in captivitatem abducerentur. " Jeroboamo 
 Deus decern tribus assignavit, quod de vestra repub. 
 nobis non constat." Tam nobis, inquam, de nostra 
 repub. quam vobis de vestro Carolo : imrao long^ plus. 
 " Vestros," inquis, " Capnoraantes et Entbeos pro Dei 
 vatibus non recipimus." Neque nos te praesertim 
 aleatorem, ebriosum, et scortatorem episcopum : cujus 
 vaticinia hoc capite soloecoruni floribus ornatissima in 
 gratiam tui studiosorum, nequid tam emuncti authoris 
 desideraretur, hue in fine congessimus. " Aristocratia 
 nonnunquam cachistocratia dicenda." Tam orthogra- 
 phic^ hoc abs te quam etymologice est dictum, siqui- 
 dem duo contraria simul vera esse possunt. " Spes 
 nulla restat ut in pristinam felicitatem restituamur. 
 Nee dubitamus quin plusapud Deum valebuntmiserite 
 nostrae. Regibus potius mandasset Apostolus populo 
 obedire, ne solio suo dejiciantur. Non dicimus quin 
 reges tenentur. Velut defessi reformatae religionis; 
 in aliquibus illis viam concedentes, uno dato absurdo 
 sequuntur infinita, &c." 
 
 CAP. III. 
 
 " DuoBus capitibus a tergo relictis." Etiamne a 
 fuga incipis, tergiversator ? At nos non tergum, sed 
 frontem, sed nomcn etiam tuum fronti iuscriptiim 
 maluimus. Mancdum igitur, obvertc faciem ilhim 
 insignem Brammaleam, non fcrri, sed vini vulncribu*. 
 sauciam, genimulis (weruleis, rubcolis, purpurois ct 
 
AD APOLOGIAM ANONYMI CUJUSDAM TENEBRIONIS. 
 
 771 
 
 purulentissimis bullatam atque distinctam; nam quibus 
 te quisquam telis, nisi si rapliaiiis fugfientem insequatur 
 moechum, nescio. Sed fortasse more Parthico fug^iens 
 soles tela conjicere : conjice erg'o. " Qui populo," in- 
 quis, " potestatem gladii ascribit, populum impunem re- 
 linquere necesse habet ; quis enim populum puniret leges 
 transgredientem ?" Fateor, siquidem uni versus peccat, 
 nam universum punire populum, ne rex quidem aut 
 solet aut potest. Non magis ergo necesse est populum 
 impunem relinquere, si populus, qukm si rex potestatem 
 gladii solus habeat ; ciim in statu populari poenis seque 
 obnoxius quisque sit atque in monarchia. " Liturgiam 
 profligavimus." Missale scilicet Papisticum, paucis 
 admodum mutatis, ex Latino duntaxatAnglice editum, 
 una cum episcopis qui tam fraudulenter earn et pa- 
 pistic6 concinnarunt, quid ni profligaremus ? nam et 
 aliam, ut fateris ipse, substituimus, magis videlicet or- 
 tbodoxam, et verbo Dei consentaneam, ut, qui requirit, 
 habeat, si necesse est, qua salubriter possit uti. " Sub- 
 jecti estote propter dominum, quamobrem ? quia con- 
 stituitur potestasa Deo ad ultionem facinorosorura, &c." 
 At " Rex, cui subjecti esse jubentur, erat Nero vel 
 Claudius." Generalem doctrinam de magistratu, quis 
 sit aut esse debeat, tradit Apostolus, deque obedientia, 
 quare magistratui prtestanda sit, quod tibi satis sit. 
 Nero an Claudius regnaverit, nihil refert ; desine tan- 
 dem nugis istis nos obtundere. "Judteorum," inquis, 
 " casremoniis et lege judiciaria liberamur." Incassum 
 igitur tu tantopere laboras, ut nos regii apud illos im- 
 perii exemplo in servitutem regibus addicas. " Utcun- 
 que," inquis "de Dei instinctu gloriamini, ad tribunal 
 divinum sistendi, respondebitis, &c." Quid alii tunc 
 responsuri sint, ne sit tibi curse. Tu, quid de alea, de 
 scortis, de ebrietate episcopali respondebit Brammalus, 
 ipse cogita. Potestates non legitimas, sed quascunque 
 intelligi, ais, ab Apostolo, quia Deus praefecit Saulem 
 et cteteros malos reges Judeeis. At vero Paulus de 
 potcstate loquitur, quam et summ^ legitimam descri- 
 bit; non loquitur de viro, qui, a Deo licet electus, si 
 j)ostea nequissimus evadit, et potestatem exercet longe 
 aliam, atque a Deo accepit, et cui duntaxat nos illic 
 obedire jubemur, id sibi, non Deo imputandum erit. 
 " Vcrisimilius," inquis, "quod Anglia Carolo filio de- 
 bellandi, tandem in crepitum putidissimum et ridiculum 
 erupturi sint." Videsne jam ut Deus, omnium rerum 
 arbiter, omen hoc tuum, ventriloque, in te tuosque 
 avertit? Videsne ut ipse tuus Carolus in crepitum eva- 
 nuit, immo ipse crepitus fieri putidissimus optaret, 
 dummodo ex hostium manibus hoc pacto elabi queat. 
 " Supponemus," inquis, "tuam rempubl. in tyrannidem 
 degenerare, non teneris obedire illorum potestati ? " 
 Concede tu prius, si rex in tjrannum degeneraret, non 
 teneri te regi obedire ; turn nos satis mature tibi de re- 
 publica respondebimus. " Potuit," inquis, " Apostolus 
 dixisse bonos magistratus." At vero ita dixisse, ex 
 descriptione magistratus quamibi posuit, apert6 liquet. 
 " Sed nullo," inquis, " argumento fortius evincitur 
 regis potestas, quam quod Apostoli mandant nullis con- 
 ditionibus limitatam." At rursus inquam, ipsa potes- 
 tatis descriptio, quae copiosissima ibi est, conditiones 
 sapienti abund^ suppeditat. " Rex," inquis, " a Deo 
 3 D 
 
 missus quantumvis nialus ferendus, caetera mala in 
 poenam veniunt." Quasi vero rex etiam malus in 
 pcenam non veniret, quod tibi toties in ore est, " re- 
 mediis" idcirco veltuojudicio "auferendus. Multum," 
 inquis, " Miltono debent orthodoxi, quod tam ridi- 
 culam opinioneni iis assignaret, populum scilicet uni- 
 versum regi ignavissimo esse parem." Magno sane 
 acumine mendacium hoc vibras; sed parum indc lu- 
 craris. Miltonus enim populum non solum parem regi, 
 sed superiorem semper afBrmavit. Hoc loco sententiam 
 suam non profert, Salmasium tantumraodo perstringit, 
 quod ex Sorbonistarum scriptis populum regi vel parem 
 esse negaverit, quem superiorem dixisse oportuerit. 
 Verum itk miser^ coecutire soles, ut in Salmasium pro 
 Miltono impetum saepiuscule facias. Haec praeter in- 
 eptias densissimas, quas infra omne responsum esse 
 judico, confutationum tuarum in hoc capite summa est; 
 unde otium nobis hie etiam tam pingue accidit, ut 
 rursus vacet elegantias hominis nitidissimas gleba so- 
 lorum ubere natas ad ornandas Soloecorum porticus et 
 spatia decerpere. "Tuba sonitum incertum edit, ut 
 nemo se ad colendum Deum praeparare potest. Non 
 dubitamus quin multi religionem Christianam amplexi 
 sint. Tauquam nulla erat malorum principum po- 
 testas. Non quin Deus omnia ita disposuit. Si enim 
 ad populum provocandum (ut vos primo fecistis ut 
 omnia confundaretis) nemo per diem integrum imperare 
 poterat. Omnes patres nullius testimat. Sed utinam 
 tam humaniter ciim Carolo agere voluistis. Populum 
 contra regem defendere suscipis." Et alia hujusmodi. 
 
 CAP. IV. 
 
 " In prtEcedentibus Miltonus leo rugiens, qui reges 
 omnes devoraret, hie draco occulte insidians, et vulpe- 
 culam agit, nam quo lapidem non potest, vota jacit." 
 Aut insanit hie homo, aut versus facit, novas chimaeras, 
 novas metamorpho(T«c fingit sibi lymphatus. Cert^ 
 Miltonus si leo rugiens vobis est visus, facitis baud ab- 
 surde, ut id sponte fateamini. Te contra asinum ruden- 
 tem prima voce agnovimus,teque risu perinde et fustibus 
 excipimus. " Semper," inquis, " populum in adjutori- 
 um vocat Priapus in horto." Quod Priapus in horto, 
 id Brammalus in sacello. Verissimum hoc esse tota 
 fere Hibernia non ignorat. " Quos populus," inquis, 
 " creat, si nulla Dei ratio habeatur, potius obedientiam 
 ab iis postularet, quam illis prseberet." Praeter ilia 
 qusepriiis respondi, qualem requirat obedientiam Apos- 
 tolus, scias insuper, Apostolos non toti Romano senatui 
 et consulibus, neque magno ullius gentis concilio, aut 
 ullius regni ordinibus conventus legitimos peragentibua 
 obedientiam praecepisse, sed privatis et singulis. Rex 
 vero, ut nosti, singulis quidem major, universis vero 
 minor est. Benelicia deinde Caroli in populum enume- 
 ras, quae nulla unquam exstitere, sed damna potiiis et 
 detrimenta, et summa plane dedecora. " Unctum 
 Domini," inquis, " vel Christum Domini si dicas Chris- 
 tianum non tam interest." Atqui Salmasius Saulem 
 Christum Domini nuncupaverat. Tibi ut videtur, Saul 
 non solum inter prophetas sed inter Christianos est. 
 
772 
 
 JOANNIS PHILIPPI RESPONSIO 
 
 Dicitur autem, 1 Reg. 11. Salomon obdonnivit, et Re^ 
 liolHianiiis reijfnavit luco ejus. £t iioc, iiiquis, dicitur, 
 "autequam populus Sechem venit ut ilium regcm facc- 
 renL" Hoc vero non alitcr dictum fuisse, quam ut 
 historiee series manif'estior esset, ex prinio sequentis 
 capitis vcrsu apparet. Populus euim Secheinum venit, 
 ut Rehoboamum reg^em constituerent, vel rc«jnare face- 
 rent, ut est Hebraice ; ergo autca eerie aut uon regna- 
 vit, aut in Judaea tantiim. " Populuni," iuquis, "per 
 iucendiarios fuisse incitatum, videlicet Jeroboamum et 
 comites suos." At vero Jeroboamus non populum, sed 
 populus ilium incitavit. Jeroboamus eiiim, audita 
 Salonionis morte, adbuc in ^gypto morabatur. Sed 
 Israelitte mittcntesacccrsivcruut eum, 1 Reg. 12. Mira- 
 ris " inipudentiam" ejus qui affirmaret, "non vocari 
 rcbelles qui in Roboanium arma sumpscrunt." Tuam 
 potius non impudentiam solum, sed impietatem dcmiror, 
 qui eos rebelles appellare ausus sis, quos Deus eo ipso 
 loco fratres sui populi nominavit. At instas, ibidem 
 etiam dictum esse, " sic rebcllavit domus Israel li 
 domo David." At vero vcrbum bic " rebellavit" mitius 
 intelHgi pro quacunque defectione, neque in malum 
 sensum rapi debet Propterea vertunt alii " defecit," 
 non "rebellavit;" cujus enim defectionis authorem se 
 Deus ipse profitetur, scriptura malam et illicitam pro- 
 culdubio non dicit. Sic Ezecbia verbo non minus 
 duro rebelasse in regem Assyriae dicitur ; quod tamen 
 ejus factum Deus etiam auxilio coelitus misso approba- 
 vit. Deus Israelitis regem petentibus graviter iratus 
 est, quamvis regis petendi, si vellent,ex lege Mosis jus 
 habuerit? Tu, "num irascitur Deus," inquis, "populo 
 petenti quod ad illos jure pertinet." Id, inquam, 
 facile potest fieri ; nibil enim obstat quo minus id ad 
 populum jure pertineret, et tamen irasci Deus illis 
 merito potuit, quod cum in eo quod optimum erat ac- 
 quievisse penes ipsos esset, deterius quod erat antepone- 
 bant. Affirmas " Deum graviore poena puniise rebelles 
 Israelitas," quippe " veram sui cognitionem ab iis abs- 
 tulisse." At ubi id unquam legisti, nugator, Israelitas 
 illam defectionem idololatria luisse, cum Deus ipse 
 Jeroboamo mox rebellaturo bona omnia poUicitus sit, 
 seque illi Israelitas traditurum esse, si ejus prteceptis 
 auscultasset, 1 Reg. 1 1 . Sed orthodoxi, inquis, " semper 
 cum Carolo fuere, nam quicquid moribus peccant non- 
 nulli, inopia coacti, religioncm tamen rcformatam non 
 deseruerunt." Num vero vestros orlhodoxos, cum rege 
 suo, inopia coegit gentes vicinas ebrio agmine, blasplie- 
 mo, libidinosissimo ac ferocissimo oberrare, omnique im- 
 pietatis genere omnes Anglos, tanquam sui similes, infa- 
 mes reddere ? " Nobiscum" tua sententia " vitulae aureae ; 
 vobiscum mensa dominica, oratio dominica, symbolum 
 Apostolorum, decern maudata." Atqui ea ipsa sacra quae 
 apud vos solos esse inan iter jactas, vobis, pro more vestro, 
 superstitios^ et hypocritice abutentibus, nihil aliud pro- 
 fecto quam vitulse aureae sunt. " Deum," inquis, " sibi 
 contrarium statuimus." Quidni? An quod argumcn- 
 tum Salmasii nihil valere ostendit Miltonus, idcirco 
 ne Deum sibi contrarium statuit. Dixcrat Salmasius, 
 omnes rcges esse a Deo; Miltonus non omnes reges, 
 sed omnes rcgcndi formas, salutis causa adbibitas, cujus 
 etiam causa populi conventus, comitia, et consilia ba- 
 
 bentur. . Ergo vel ipsius argumento non magis rcgi 
 licet resistere populo propter rempubl. convocato. 
 quam populo licet resistere regi a Deo ordinato, quan- 
 doquidem et populi conventus Icgitimi a Deo quoque 
 sunt ut Sechemi olim contra Roboamum fuisse testifi- 
 catur ipse Deus. " Utrum,'' inquis, " ille tyrannus, 
 qui viginti tribus annis regnans, neminem pro sua 
 voluntate mori coegit ; an vos qui inter decem annos 
 regem ipsum et plus quam quingentos millc honiinum 
 trucidastis ? " Quid ais, niille quingentos ? numerum 
 sane perexiguum narras ; neque uUus unquam, credo 
 minori jactura bellum tim saevum confecit. Profecto 
 si tarn scires latine quam sis malitiose loqui, non 
 quingentos mille, sed quingcnta millia, opinor te 
 dicere voluisse. Quis vero Carolo pejor tyraunus, 
 quis poena dignior, qui per tria regna plus decies 
 centena bominum millia partim laniena ilia Hiber- 
 nica, parlim bello iniquissimo occidit. Negas quod 
 superiorc argumento dictum est, regem non debere 
 populo resistere : negas populum quicquam posse 
 in regem, quia populus " inferior est," rex " supe- 
 rior." At raemineris regem natura superiorem non 
 esse, sed consensu tantum est suffragiis populi ad eam 
 esse dignitatem evectum, publico salutis causa; quo 
 ab officio si plane desciveret, superior esse desinit ; 
 quia cur esset superior causa nulla amplius est. Cum 
 munus regium perperam adrainistraverat, ob quod 
 raunus dunta.xat, cum unus h multis primo fuerit, fac- 
 tus omnium supremus est. Ad id quod dixerat Mil- 
 tonus, non quod Deus jussit tyrannum interimi, ideo 
 bouum erat, sed quod bonum erat, idcirco Deus jussit, 
 tu respondes, " cujus contrarium verum est. Nam 
 quicquid Deus jubet, bonum est, et ideo bonum, quod 
 Deus jubet." Doctum vero neminem boclatet, bonum 
 in positivum et morale divisum esse. Positivum est, 
 quod ante indifferens, bonum tunc incipit esse, cum k 
 Deo jubetur. Morale vero bonum, aeternum et immu- 
 labile manet, sive Deus jusserit, sive non jusserit; 
 bonum hujusmodi est tyrannum perimi: ad quod faci- 
 nus praeclarum ducem ilium Jehu, tum fort6 nihil tale 
 cogitanlem, prce ceteris incitavit. Quod autem ais, 
 " bonitatem a divina voluntate pendere," erras, ut cac- 
 tera; bonilas enim non minus de essentia Dei est, 
 quam ipsa Dei voluntas. Verum de his nimis multa 
 cum stolido et idiota. Percurrimus in hoc capile 
 quicquid argunienti vim ullam in se habere videatur, 
 ut bonis viriset intelligentibus quam maximd satisfiat : 
 caeteris ejus ineptiis et nugamenlis qui movetur, eum 
 neque moramur, neque retinemus quo minus in castra 
 adversarii nostri tam diserti atque erudili transire pos- 
 sit; his etiam floribus, sapientiae et judicii ejus causa, 
 coronalus, quos hortorum Solensium custos iste ficul- 
 neus suorum fautorum capiti nectendos largiter paravit 
 Olfaciant modo prius quam suave olent. " Nil tam 
 horrendum excogitari possit quin laudabile fiet. Po- 
 puli conventus, comitia, plebiscilus pariler u Deo. 
 Non dicinius quin tyrannus impedire debet. Tu ad 
 Antipodas ablegandus, Londini Constantinopolim. 
 Coronam ad sejure pertinentem poposcivisse. Passa 
 marem, miramur hyacnam. Quos tamcu rectius scn- 
 tiisse judicas," cum multis aliis. 
 
AD APOLOGTAM ANONYM! CUJUSDAM TENEBRIONIS. 
 
 773 
 
 CAP. V. 
 
 Omissis quae initio hiijus capitis trita jam et toties 
 refutata stupidissime reg'eris, venio nunc ad id, in quo 
 levitatis arjjuis qui dixerit, jus successionis natura 
 nullum esse, eo quod " lex Dei primogeniturae legem 
 tulit ;" cum divina autem leg-e consentire legem na- 
 turse dictum est. Tuum vero erat, non nescivisse 
 quantum inter se differant successio in regnum, et 
 successio in patrimonium : principle enim regnorum, 
 regnandi successio non filio sed dignissimo cuique 
 semper delataest; mox regum usurpatio, non populi 
 consensus filios regum dignioribus prsetulit. Hoc 
 etiam turpe et servile est, libera hominum capita 
 inter posscssioncs numerare, qui profecto dum liberi 
 sunt, lupreditate nemini obvenire possunt. Tuque 
 jus liaereditarium, quicquid garris, ex lege Dei 
 nunquam ostenderis. Nam quod soli testatur Deus 
 Davidi ejusque posteris dedisse se, id universis ac- 
 commodari regnis aut regibus nullo jure potest. 
 
 j *' Jus," inquis, " successionis pacem et concordiam 
 inter homines nutrit ; est maxime naturale, ne con- 
 
 j tinuis litibus mundus flagraret." Historias ergo om- 
 nium gentium percurre ; invenies in monarchia dis- 
 cordias tetriores, bella saeviora, idque stepius accidisse, 
 quam in repub. Haud raro ipsi regum filii de summa 
 rerum inter se bello acerrimn, mutuaque ccpde conten- 
 dunt. Unde apud Turcas, ubi jus successionis absolu- 
 tissimum est, nihil ad pacem publicam magis condu- 
 cere putatur, quam filio natu maximo regnum ineunte, 
 cseteros fratres interfici. Nonnunquam de successionis 
 jure manifesto non constat, hiiic etiam bella suevissima 
 et maxime diuturna, quarum sub regno calamitatum 
 nostra imprimis Anglia testis esse potest. Ita ncque 
 monarchia per se ueque respub. concordiie parens est; 
 sed moderatus ubique civium animus et ambitione va- 
 cuus. Sed summa authoritas " uni contigit ordinis ser- 
 vandi gratia." At si tyranno, pessimus ille ordo qui 
 omuem ordinem, jura omnia divina et humana perver- 
 tit. " Christus," inquis, " suos deputatus et vicege- 
 rentes in terris reges posuit." Fatemur, si bonos, ty- 
 ranni autem quo possunt mode Christi vicem gerere ? 
 Intcrea non nos " contumaciae," quod ais, sed tu im- 
 pietatis tuie Christum vindicem expecta; qui regnum 
 Christi in terris violentum et tyraunicum blasphemus 
 audcs existimare: Vicarius enim, non Christi, qui ejus 
 exemplum non imitatur, sed diaboli est. Quod regera 
 deinde confers cum patrefamilias, satis clare ostensum 
 est a Miltono, jus patris diversissimura esse, et longe 
 antiquius. Cum autem non solum reges mali, sed mala 
 omnia " in scelerura poenam, vel ad probandam pati- 
 entiam uostram a Deo data sint:" eaque omnia justis 
 remediis ab hominibus summa cum prudentioe laude 
 moveri et possint et debeant, solos reges vel ptente 
 causa, vel patientise ferre, et turpe et ridiculum et ex- 
 tremae esset insanice. " Sed variis morbis laborantibus 
 rex manus imposuit et sanavit; angelum aureum cuili- 
 bet segroto dedit." Sive sanavit, sive excantavit nihil 
 nunc refert ; medendi enim dono nunc infideles, ut Ves- 
 pasianus olim, »aepius hypocritre prsediti fuerc. Ilium 
 
 angelum aureum, quem singulis aegrotis dedit, non 
 ilium fuisse, qui Bethesdae aquas commovit; nee sa- 
 nandi vim ullam habuisse, sat scio ; quo te aureo scilicet 
 angelo sic opinor stupere, ut ante te Salmasius coelum 
 illud Caroli aureum et sericum obstupuit, neque hoc 
 coelo quicquam altius cemere uterque videmini, aut de 
 eo quicquam sublimius cogitare, quam aureum esse. 
 " Florentissima," inquis, " Romanorum respubl. exactis 
 regibus, nunquam subsistere potuit donee in monar- 
 chiam redintegrata fuerit." Quod contra omnium his- 
 toriarum fidem plane est; quae testantur omnes, Ro- 
 manam rempub. sub consulibus et senatus authoritate 
 ad illam magnitudinem crevisse : sub imperatorum 
 vero luxuria, tyrannide, atque inertia statim conse- 
 nuisse, imperiumque simul et gloiiam belli atque jus- 
 titifie in ilia libera civitate olim partam sub imperato- 
 ribus cito aniisisse. " Sed quod Anglia," inquis, " nimio 
 luxu et libcrtate perdita fuit, non Caroli tyrannidi, sed 
 vestrtE nequitiee attribuendum est." Immo aulae foe- 
 dissimee, regisque voluptarii atque ignavissimi exemplo 
 recte attribuimus, ad cujus vilae rationem quamplurimi 
 sese composuere. Jam regem defendis, qui Ducem 
 Buckinghamiee veneficii suspectum " legibus eripuit ; 
 quasi," inquis, " hoc regibus crimini datetur, quod om- 
 nibus natura concedit, ut suos familiares amarent." 
 Itane carnifex .'' satisne regem excusari putas, quod 
 familiarem ilium et amicissimum habuerit, qui patris 
 ejus veneno sublati a supremo regni concilio postulatus 
 esset ? At quid poteras in regem atrocius dixisse ? 
 " Sed credibile non fuit ducem Buckinghamiee Jacobo 
 insidias struere velle, qui ilium in tantam potestatem 
 evexit." Quin immo satis notum est, mores Bucking- 
 hamii Jacobo tandem graviter displicuisse, unde is 
 magnum malum sibi metuens, duas maxime res dein- 
 ceps agere instituit, ut et patri necera strueret, et filio 
 OS subliniret, ejusque gratiam omni studio captaret ; 
 quod san^, objectis juveni mollissimo voluptatura om- 
 nium illecebris, statim perfecit. Reprehendis, quod 
 Carolus Neroni collatus sit. " Nam," inquis, " Metro- 
 polim vestram non diripuit," scilicet quia non potuit ; 
 at qui nunc Scotis, nunc sicariis suis, morem sibi niodo 
 gererent, haud semel diripiendam obtulit. Restat ut 
 rosarum hujus Solensium fasciculum in fine exhiberem ; 
 et possem quidem ubertim, sed cum viam jam toties 
 digito monstraverim, ubi germinant, ubi crescunt, ju- 
 cundius fortasse cuique erit proprio uugue decerpere. 
 
 CAP. VI. 
 
 " Regum et bonorum omnium hoste prostrate (suis 
 telis in faciem suam resilientibus) recurrere coactus esrt 
 ad elumbes aliquot argutias, et trita argumenta." Pros- 
 trate hoste, quis sodes est coactus, egregie soloecista ? 
 nomen enim licet attuleris nullum, cognomen certe hoc 
 apud omnes in posterum reportabis. Ain' vero " suis 
 telis in faciem resilientibus ?" Si sua sponte, Dedalea 
 pro facto narras, aut Vulcan iaquaedam nova automata? 
 An vero, te retorquente, resiliunt tela ilia ? Tone ergo 
 
JOANNIS PHILIPPI RESPONSIO 
 
 ilium prostravis.«c l)nstcm,asine, cujusarfrumeiitum vcl 
 -levissimum oniiii mole concutere, atit movere loco noii 
 ▼ales ? Exultantem asinum in apologfo herus verberibus 
 male mtiltarit, quid triumpbante hoc asino faciamus ? 
 prtescrtim qui neque purpuram indutus, neque peliem 
 leoninam, sed propria palam scabritie notus, rictu isto 
 asiniiio, istoque miserrimo clangore atque ridiculo tri- 
 umphum canere audeat. " Omnes," inquis, " in suis 
 regnis monarcbee absoluti TraufiaaiXftac exercent, quod 
 et Galli de suo rege multum gloriantur." Ad scrip- 
 tores Gallos si recurrisses, Girardum, Hottomannum, 
 Sesellium, plurimosque alios, nunquam id afiirmares. 
 Galli liberos se, et vcre Francos passim gloriantur: ab 
 omni memoria penes se fuisse, regum salutis omnium 
 causa, vel eligere vel abjiccre. Hac rationc Pipino, 
 necnon post eum aliis imperium Gallifc delatum : quod 
 vulgx) notum est. Hac etiam oetatc cum multac civi- 
 tates, tum etiam Burdegalenses idem scntire scse factis 
 osteuderunt, dum vi et armis vel sui regis vel ejus 
 praesi<lum iraftliaaiXuav et tjrannidem strenue propul- 
 sant. " Si cui Deus vult," inquis, " populus regnum 
 tradit, jam die aliud de tribus capellis, unde tot quaes- 
 tiones et lites ?" Unde nisi a te, tuique similibus, qui 
 id perpetuo contendilis, ut regnum iis tradatur, quibus 
 populus uon vult, ac proindc nee Deus. Deus enim, 
 si cui regnum vellet, facile perficeret, ut regnum illi 
 traderet populus. Jam tu die aliquid de tribus capellis. 
 " Quantumvis," inquis, " nummi nobis desint, nun- 
 quam tamen deerunt parati ad tuendam veritatem." 
 Nummi quidem vobis et merito desunt, et tamen longe 
 major apud vos virtutis, honestatis, sapientiae, pudoris 
 penuria est, quam nummorum. Id quod mores vestri 
 perditissimi e.xteris jam passim graves et odiosi testan- 
 tur. Deesse autem non magis nummos quam ad cau- 
 sam vestram tuendam paratos, argumento ipse maximo 
 es, qui homo indoctissimus cum sis et inertissimus, pri- 
 jnus omnium et adhuc fere solus, ad hoc te munus ac- 
 cinxeris. Dixerat Salmasius, quamvis id falso, " re- 
 giminis Anglorura formam non popularem sed milita- 
 rem esse." Tu hoc Miltonum " concedere coactum 
 esse," dicis : " nee tamen ab Aristotele talera regiminis 
 formam rccensitam usque meministi." Vel hinc con- 
 stat te neque Miltonum attente satis, neque Aristotelem 
 nmnino forsan legis.se. Apud Miltonum enim conces- 
 sionem illam nusquam invenies. Apud Aristotelem 
 ^paTriytu a'iciu, id est " ducis perpetui," qui in quibus- 
 dam civitatibus summae rerum prseficeretur, mentionem 
 stepe factam esse meminisses. Jam de " diabolo por- 
 cos tondente" stolide nugaris, " ubi ingens clamor, sed 
 nulla lana ;" parcius itaque diabolus porcos suos 
 tondebat, quam Brammalus oves Hibemicas deglubere 
 consuevit; a quibus et lanam et peliem multo cum 
 clamore populi detrahere solebat. " Scoti," inquis, 
 " inaudito ostracismo Monti srossanum interfecere." 
 Inauditus ille quidem ostracismus qui patibulo homines 
 affigit Nam vel sciolos non fugit, ostracism um non 
 mortis, sed relegationis genus fuisse. " Reges," in- 
 quis, " sub potestate populi collocates pejori conditione 
 nobis reprsesentas, quam ex populo universo perditissi- 
 mus." At vel ista conditione noli metuere ne qui reges 
 an posterum esse velint ; utcunque enim non deerunt 
 
 reges. Ctetera hujus capitis, qua scria, qua ludicra, 
 insulsa adeo et inficeta sunt, ut quamvis nihil niihi 
 tribuam, quod nun admodum exiguum sit, poeniteat 
 tamen nonnunquam et penesuppudeat, cum adversario 
 tamen nihili manus conscruisse. Postremo casus sui 
 regis graves sane et tragicos ad comoediam redigit. 
 " Jovem " adulterum, " Amphytrionem " maritum, 
 " Mercurium et Sosiam" servos, " super mundi the- 
 atrum" agit. Nil possum rectiiis facere quam ut istius- 
 modi phrases prteteream : nam in hominem tam stultum 
 et nullius pretii quicquid aut seriu dixeris aut joco, et 
 operam perdideris et salcm. Pnestat tamen hunc vel 
 incassum defricare, quam respousione licet indignum, 
 nostro tamen silcntio tumentem et jactabundum dimit- 
 tcre. 
 
 CAP. VII. 
 
 Hactenus opusculi tui futilissimi dimidium percur- 
 rimus, et quanquam te plus satis indoctum,insipidum, 
 solcEcum, arrogantem, et languidum jamdudum inve- 
 niraus, tamen quo longius procedimus, eo inanior, eoque 
 jejunior semper occurris, et proeter adagia qusedam et 
 disticba vulgata, quae memoriter, credo, elementarius 
 puer didiceras, quaique ne negent forte lectores vel se- 
 midoctulum te esse, per fas et nefas inserere laboras, 
 caeteram omnem argumentorum, sensus, Latinitatis 
 perpusillam annonam exhausisse videris. Nihil est 
 igitur in hoc capite quod agam, quam ut captiunculas 
 quasdam tuas, et grjphos dissolvam, quibus dura ad- 
 versarium capere te existimas, teipsum capi ostendam. 
 Dixerat Miltonus jure naturali regem quemque bonum 
 senatum vel populum habere sibi semper et parem et 
 superiorem. Ad haec tu, " quis unquam," inquis, 
 " talia aavTUTa audivit? Si par est, non est superior; 
 si superior, non par." Quis plumbeo potuit gladio 
 quicquam acutius .'* At nescin' quid Lselius ille sapiens 
 apud Ciceronem ? Maximum est in amicitia superiorem 
 parem esse inferiori. Quin hie quoque vociferare, 
 "quis unquam talia airv^ara audivit .'' " Disputatum 
 est a multis, sitne par regi populus vel senatus. Infit 
 Miltonus, utrumlibet regi et parem esse et superiorem. 
 Cur ista negas posse consistere .•* Cert^ si juxta regu- 
 1am, omne majus in se continet minus, superior qui est, 
 nihil obstiterit, quo minus idem par sit. Jam cecum 
 tibi "nodum hunc sine CEdipo solutum," Dave. Nunc 
 ad secundara hominis tendiculam venio. *' Si Davidi 
 private non licuit Saulem tyrannum interficere, qun- 
 mcdo jam unicuique concedis, si viribus plus valet." 
 Sumis quae nemo est largitus, tyrannum fuisse Saulem. 
 Non enim qui facta queedam tyrannica in unum atquo 
 alterum per iram aut libidinem perpetrat, is statim est; 
 tyrannus; ut nee injustus,quiinjusta queedam. Sed qui 
 consilio, institute, viribus, dolis hoc solum studet atqud 
 molitur, ut potentiam legibus majorem sibi arripiat,juM 
 omne populi et libcrtatem subvertat, vindicare se co^ 
 nantibus vim atque helium inferat, is ver^ atque propnil 
 tyrannus est; quo in gencre nullus unquam Carolff 
 pejor fuit. Qui igitur Davidem privatas adversum f~' 
 
AD APOLOGIAM ANONYMI CUJUSDAM TENEBRIONIS. 
 
 775 
 
 reg^is injurias ulcisci noluisse dixit, potuit idem nihil 
 sibi repugnans dicere, tyrannum interficere cuivis licere 
 qui viribus plus valeat. Dixerat Miltonus ad servitu- 
 lem natas istas nationes quae talem dominum agnos- 
 cant, cui se sine assensu suo hoereditate obvenisse cre- 
 dant. " Ergo," inquis, " tu ad servitutem natus qui 
 Carolum hasreditarium multos annos agnoscebas, aut 
 cum multis aliis dissimulabas." Hanc tu sententiam 
 detruncas, ejus loco subdititia ponis, " quae regera 
 haereditarium agnoscunt." Parlamenta autem Anglise, 
 proeterito ssep^ hsereditatis obtentu, diadema, cui visum 
 est, suis liberis suffragiis, imponere consueverunt ; quod 
 multis exemplis demonstrari potest. Non ergo Angli 
 ad servitutem nati, quod tu nequiter probare niteris, 
 verna Canopi. Quartum hoc est, in quo adversarium 
 cepisse te somnias. Ob eam causam affirmaverat ille, 
 homines in unum primo convenisse, non ut unus omnes 
 insultaret, sed ut quocunque alterum Itedente, ne lex 
 deesset neve judex inter homines, quo laesus defendatur, 
 aut vindicetur. Ad hsec tu, " Nemo," inquis, " a te 
 plus petiit quam tu per lucida intervalla tua sponte 
 concedis." Lucidum certe intervallum vel ad punctum 
 temporis contigisse unquam tibi vix reor, ita semper 
 falleris. Quae enim petis, non regfibus solum sed ma- 
 gistratibus omnibus concessimus; quorum niliil est 
 quod in tyrannum convenire possit. liCgem enim 
 primo constituimus, deinde judicem ex lege rectum et 
 incorruptum. Horum quodcunque petis et impetra- 
 veris, tuam causam minimi juvabit. 
 
 CAR VIII. 
 
 Quod superius praedixi fore, ut post tritas argutias 
 quasdam potius quam argumenta & aulicorum velita- 
 tioncs toties profligatas, ad summam inopiam homuncio 
 istc redigeretur, neque reliquum ei quicquam fore 
 proeter inaledicta et rabiem, id hoc capite manifestius 
 liquet. Et sane ad priora ilia quae attulit, quamquam 
 primo statim conspectu sensus et ingenii inanissima 
 ubique apparuere vestigia, tamen quia quandam ratio- 
 nis et argumenti speciem prte se ferebant, utcunque 
 paucis respondimus. In hoc autem capite ciim Milto- 
 nus antiquas Anglorum leges ac monumenta regioe 
 causee passim tam adversa diligentissime protulisset ; 
 iste e contra, cum neque doctrinam, neque antiqui- 
 tatem, neque acumen, neque authoritatem ullam, qua 
 suam tueatur causam, afferre possit, hoc tantiim ha- 
 bet quod respondeat, misere balbutiens jura ilia nos- 
 tra notissima, vetustissima, et maxime rata, " obsoleta 
 jam et tineis coniesta esse.'' Verum non tam dubito 
 quin omnes docti et intelligentes viri huic fatuanti non 
 responderi oportere judicent, quam vereor ne reprehen- 
 dant, si insanienti et rabioso operam dedero. Qui vero 
 hujus mendaciis et maledicentia a veritate abduci se 
 patiuntur, eos profecto tam parvi pendimus, ut quam- 
 cunque ad partem accesserint, susque deque nobis sit; 
 immo contra nos isto animo quam nobiscum stare ma- 
 lumus. 
 
 CAP. IX. 
 
 Huic etiam capiti prioris baud absimili responsum 
 prorsus idem conveniet. Nam qui contra legem Dei 
 et naturte dilucide explicatam, contra ratioues eviden- 
 tissimas, juraque gentium pluriniarum, turn nostrae 
 etiam firmissima, contra testimonia denique optimorum 
 virorum uberrima nihil praeter commenta tantiim sua, 
 atque deliria opponere, aut in medium proferre potest, 
 ejus profecto ita disputantis rationem ullam siquis ha- 
 buerit, certe non doctus, non disertus, non diligens, 
 non acutus, sed male feriatus duntaxat merito videatur. 
 Quod autem nos impudentissime accusare non dubitat, 
 quasi Papae authoritatem in Angliam reducere medite- 
 mur, a quo et dictis et factis abhorruisse semper nos tam 
 palam omnibus existit, id sane et ridendum maximS 
 est, tum etiam ostendit quanta caeteroqui cum malitia, 
 quam nulla cum fide in accusandis nobis versetur, qui 
 crimen omnium judicio k nobis alienissinium, cunctis 
 absolventibus, imputare atque affigere non vereatur. 
 
 Ad CAP. X. XI. 
 
 De duobus quae sequuntur capitibus, idem quod de 
 praecedentibus duobus dicendum est. Tenuissimus 
 modo et inanissimus qui fuit, nunc est plane nullus, 
 aut siquid nihilo minus est : hujus igitur inanitati re- 
 spondere si vellem, responderem certe nemini : quidni 
 igitur conticescam .-• 
 
 CAP. XII. 
 
 Jam ad metam enervis et languidus properans soloe- 
 cista, tamen ut ultimo conatu erigere se paululum vi- 
 deatur, ad priorem verborum sine rebus prolixitatem et 
 ta?dium redit. Quare ne quis nos propter virium aut 
 rationis defectum priora capita tanta brevitate percur- 
 risse existimet, aut per ignaviani quicquam remisisse, 
 quae alicujus modo momenti videantur, non sum arbi- 
 tratus proetereunda esse, " Parlamentum," inquis, " per- 
 petuura est instar nullius parlamenti ; hoc enim est 
 funditus parlamentum tollere." Ecquem tu jam nisi 
 Carolum ipsum criminaris ? Qui ipse parlamentum hoc 
 perpetuum esse jussit, et facto gloriatus, inter ea quae 
 vocare acta gratiae solebat, saepissime receusuit, non ut 
 populura beneficio aliquo afficeret, sed arte quadam ty- 
 rannica dum perpetuum esse juberet, ut quod ex temet- 
 ipso jam accipimus, funditus tolleret. Ciim autem 
 " catharticum remedium sit," quemadmodum ais, tolli 
 certe aut dissolvi non debet ; donee morbi, quorum re- 
 medium est, tollantur, et libertati sua firmitas bonaque 
 valetudo redeat. Siquid nos Carolum peccasse dicimus; 
 tu verbis totidem, velut amoebaea canens lyturgica, 
 paria commisisse parlamentum accusas, deque Carolo 
 nihil non verum esse concedis, dummodo idem de par- 
 lamento occinere tibi liceat: verum hoc non est Caro- 
 
77« 
 
 JOANNIS PHILIPPI RESPONSIO, &c. 
 
 lum purg^re, aut noxa eximere, quo minus meritas 
 pcenas dederit. " Sed antequam parlanieiitum hoc 
 incoepit, ne verbuni," inquis, " vel minima scintilla 
 de Caroli scilicet malefactis eluxit." At vcro populi 
 clamores, gemitus et suspiria, partim propter gravissi- 
 roas tributorum exactiones, partira propter episcoporum 
 persecutiones, tam acerbas, ut multi patriam deserere 
 cogerentur, regia. item consilia, edicta, facta, ab ipsis 
 regTii ejus initiis, et parlamentorum omnium quoe con. 
 vocavit intempestiva semper et infensa dissolutio rem 
 \onge aliter se "habere declarant; adeo ut hac de causa 
 populus, sive prudentiaR regis, sive vohintati diffisus, 
 unicam sibi in parlamento spem, praesidium, refugium, 
 salutem rcliquam esse palam testaretur; undc rex ira 
 et livorc prorsus tyrannico exardescens, ut populi 
 gcmitus per vim etiam comprimeret, crudelissimo edicto 
 sanxit, nequis parlamenti convocandi mentionem fa- 
 ceret, donee tandem metu populi ob haec minimd qui- 
 escentis parlamentum invitissimus convocaret. Multa, 
 inquis, " a vobis fingi quis non credet ut crimen ves- 
 trum in regem exonerare possitis, nuniquid tale apparet 
 in ejus libro divinitus scripto ?" Malo te libri illius 
 admiratorem esse, quam me ; quid enim habet prteter 
 fucos et jactationes inanissimas? Diceres & tu idem, 
 si epistolas ejus prselio Nasibiensi captas, manu propria 
 scriptas et obsignatas, incorrupto et integro judicio 
 perlegisses, ubi se suasque artes tjrauuicas non celat. 
 " ludependentes" Jesuitis similes esse ais, " qui regem 
 abrogarunt, statum reipub. mutarunt, et tameu professi 
 sunt nunquam sibi in animo fuisse haec facere." Quid 
 ad nos Jesuitas ? Quasi vero prudentise non esset, non 
 Jesuitismi, postcriora saepe consilia prioribus anteferre, 
 siquidem meliora esse postmodum didiceris. Primo 
 nobis prodire tenus aliquid visum est, imnio magnum 
 tam ad ecclesiae quam reipub. restitutionem ; cum a 
 Deo ultra dari sentiremus, an ejus nos prassentiam, et 
 providentiam ad facta tam cgregia pra?euntem asper- 
 naremur, aut soqui noUemus, ne progressus nostros 
 felices et plane inopinatos, hostis et invidus levitatis et 
 inconstanti(e nomine perstringeret ? Sa?pe arguis quod 
 parlamentum pro " corpore solo" sine capita sumamus. 
 Verum si metaphoras amovere malles, rectius continue 
 faperes, sciresque parlamentum ejusmodi corpus esse, 
 cui caput adjungi non sit necesse; neque enim vel 
 caput vel Cauda, sed commune ac liberum gentis con- 
 cilium facit, ut parlamentum sit atque dicatur. " Vi," 
 inquis, " banc infamiam et calumniam apud exteras 
 iiationes nobis exulautibus amoveam," scilicet eorum 
 ex numero non esse qui causam regiam latine sciret 
 defendere, " buic rabulte respondeo." Egregium sane 
 responsorem ! Tune vero lucifuga verberabilissime 
 prse ceteris clectus, qui nos ex latebris aggrederere, et 
 pro tuis omnibus unus responderes ? Doctum procul- 
 dubio gregem, praeclara ingenia necesse est esse, quo- 
 rum tu ductor es, tam grandis non Arcadicus aut Rea- 
 tinus, sed soloecus asinus. Latin6 tu ut responderes, 
 cujus barbarismis et soloecismis omnes paginue, ut pri- 
 orum capitum, sic hajus ultimi, refertee sunt ? " Tam 
 castus ut exemplum praebuit. Tu hsDC refricas ut regi 
 convitiare. A famulis rimari. Nisi fulcientur. Tanta 
 c«ligiae, ut justitiam causae metiuntur. Ne luillesima 
 
 pars petitionum ad earn deferrerentur. Toties purgatum 
 ut nil praeter nomen manere potest. Tanto acumiiu- 
 ut maxima pars mundi mirantur ac stupent. Tanto 
 strepitu ut coetera theatra pro tempore silent. Non 
 quin indies precamur. Non mitius eonim consilium 
 interpretarer. Carolum filium reum causatis." Digni 
 profecto regii tam stupido propugnatore, qui, ciim cau- 
 sam nequissimam susceperis tuendam et litcras profes- 
 sus, tam illitcratus sis, ab ipsis clientibus tuis quos tui 
 pudeat, ad ilia gurgustia et tenebras, unde tam stolicli 
 emersisti cum sibilo et flagris reducendus es ; aut ccrtc 
 carnifici potius in disciplinam crucis tradendus, ut cum 
 nihil aliud percipere possis,elementa discas patibularia. 
 " Quicquid," inquis, " erravero in hac apologia mete 
 tenuitati imputandum est." Ita prorsus existimo : at 
 pessim6 interim meo quidem judicio consuluit tibi 
 tenuitastua, quae te impulit, ut, cui par non eras, oneri 
 succedere auderes, sub quo proetumidum et inflatum co 
 faciliiis comminui te et frangi necesse erat. Ego certe 
 tenuem te magis an crassum dixerim vixdum scio, ita 
 omni plane dimensioue et forma rudis indigestaque 
 moles, vacare mihi videris. Jam te aulici, qui " regis 
 auro vescuntur," si priiis neglexerint, quod misere 
 quereris, et fame perire sinant, post causam eorum tam 
 male et ridicule abs te defensam multo justius oderint, 
 atque contempserint ; nisi forte periscelide ilia regia, 
 quam tanti facis, fauces tuas de rege tam ncquiter 
 meritas elidendas potius quam offis aulicis, quas esuris, 
 farciendas putant. Jam praesertim cum a regis laude 
 ad regis et regiorum gravem vituperationem transeas, 
 «t nobis ex adversario percommodus repente homo 
 factus sis; testis enim ipse novus acced is, regem suo 
 officio vel imparem fuisse, vel minime intentum, quod 
 " petitiones" nimirum subditorum raro legeret. " Quod 
 nemo ausus esset de proditoribus queri, proditorum 
 metu," quibus maxime auscultabat : quod " cameraris 
 et famulis " omnia crederet, otio ipse deditus. Uudt 
 libet profecto exclamare cum illo seue in fabula : 
 
 " Ita me dii amabunt ut hunc ego auscullo lubens ; 
 Nimis lepide facit verba" de regiis suis. 
 " Neque compeliare vole ilium, ne desinat 
 Memorare mores" regis el regiorum. 
 
 Eorum enim plurimos qui quidem regis gratia maxima 
 pollebant, eos fatetur fuisse qui commodorum potissi- 
 mum suorum et libidinum causa regem sequerentur, 
 vel mente captum potius, quo vellent, ducerent. Si- 
 nam itaque et prsBteribo, ut et regis perjuria baud 
 minori impietate atque inscitia excusantem, et statim 
 tam acriter damnantem. Neque occurrit praeterea 
 quod refutatione ilia indigeat. Ad ultimum enim. 
 consumptis in nos maledictis, diris execrationibus, cha- 
 ritatem nescio quam suam ostentare cupit. Verum 
 nos cujus convitia et imprecationcs non veremur, etiam 
 vota pro nobis et preces baud pluris a*stimanius. Fi- 
 niam itaque certamen hoc, baud libenter quidem a me 
 cum isto nugigerulo susceptum ; solum hoc est in quo 
 si non aliis, at mihimct saltern aliqua ex parte placeo, 
 cam mihi scribendi occasionem primam oblatam essr-, 
 ex qua et patria in se rectum atque pium, ct amici 
 gratum scuserint. 
 
LITERS SENATUS ANGLICANI; 
 
 CROMWELL I I, &c. 
 
 NOMINE AC JUSSU CONSCRIPTiE. 
 
 Senatus Popnlusqiie Anglicanus Amplissimo C'ivi' 
 talis Hamburgensis Senatui, Salutem. 
 
 QuAM dill, quamque niultis de causis instituta a. ma- 
 joribiis nostris cum amplissima vestra civitate ainicitia 
 in hunc usque diem permanserit, et vobiscum una li- 
 benter agnoscimus, et soepiiis etiam recolere non est 
 molestum. De eo autem quod ex literis vestris 25 
 Junii datis intelligimus, homines quosdam uostros non 
 ca qua soliti sunt fide ac probitate in suis apud vos 
 negotiis versari, nos quidcm ad ce.'tos ejusmodi rerum 
 peritos statiin retulimus, ut in lanarios, caeterosque 
 panni opifices acriiis inquirerent ; eamque porro ope- 
 ram daturos uos esse pollicemur, ut et sequi bonique 
 studium apud nos, et nostra omnia erga vos officia 
 constare sentiatis. Verum et quiddam est quod etiam 
 a vobis vicissim non nos duntaxat, sed ipsum jus et fas 
 omne postulat; ut nostrae gentis mercatoribus, vestris 
 hospitibus et sua privilegia conservare, eteorum vitam, 
 atque fortunas, prout ea civitate diguum est, vestris 
 opibus defendere velitis. Quod, ut prioribus literis 
 enixd petivimus, ita nunc etiam ut vehementiiis effla- 
 gitemus, faciunt quotidiante mercatorum querelee, 
 quas ad nos deferunt ; suam nimiriim salutera atque 
 rem omnem rursus apud vos in dubio esse Quamvis 
 enim Jiterarum nostrarum quas pridem ad vos dedi- 
 mus fructum aliquem ad tempus percepisse se fate- 
 antur, et ab injuriis nefariorum horainum aliquantum 
 respirasse, nunc tamen post adventum Cochrani illius 
 in urbem vestram (de quo etiam priiis questi sumus) 
 qui maudatam jam sibi a Carolo defuncti nuper regis 
 filio legationem nescio quam praedicat,se omnibus con- 
 tumeliis, minis, armis etiam Sicariorum petitos solita 
 vestra defensione atque tutela caruisse. Adeo ut cum 
 unus atque alter 6 mercatoribus cum ipso etiam socie- 
 tatis prtefecto, in navem quandam praedatoriam per in- 
 sidias abducti essent, coeterique vestram fidem implo- 
 rarent, a vobis tamen nullum auxilium impetrare 
 potuerint, donee ipsi suo marte mercatores, non sine 
 magno suorum discrimine captos in eo flumine, cujus 
 vestra urbs domina est, ex latronum manibus eripere 
 cogerentur. Quos cum illi bonis auspiciis domum re- 
 
 duxisscnt, et ab indigna servitute veluti manu asseruis- 
 sent, captos etiam piratas ipsos in custodiam dedissent, 
 Cochranum ilium perfugam et perduellera eo audacise 
 processisse accipimus, ut et prredatores diniitti liberos, 
 et mercatores tradi sibi vinctos postiilet. Vos autem 
 etiam atque etiam hortamur et obtestamur, si pactiones, 
 et foedera, et pervetustum utriusque gentis commercium, 
 id quod petitis, inviolate servari studetis, ut nostri cer- 
 tuni aliquod atque firmum sibi prresidium in vestra fide, 
 prudentia, authoritate collocare demum possint ; vos 
 autem uti eos his de rebus benigue audiatis ; tarn de 
 Cochrano, cteterisque sceleris illius sociis, quam de iis 
 qui nuper in concionatorem, impune adhuc, impetum 
 fecerunt supplicium sumere velitis, aut e finibus exire 
 jubeatis. Neque pulsos atque exules Tarquinios ami- 
 citiae atque opibus populi Anglicani anteferendos exis- 
 timetis. Si enim per vos non steterit quo minus reipub. 
 nostrae hostes quidvis licere sibi contra nos in urbe 
 vestra confidant, quam non tuta aut honesta amplius 
 nostrorum ibi commoratio sit, vos cum animis vestris 
 cogitate. HtEC vestrseprudentiaeetaRquitati; vosipso& 
 Divino Numini commendatos volumus. Valetc. 
 Westmonasterio, dat, Aug. 10, 1649. 
 
 Senatui Hamburgensi. 
 
 Perspecta nobis ssquanimitas vestra dubiis in rebus 
 nostris, facit nunc ut sane prosperis, ac bene gestis, 
 de vestra voluntate, etamico in nos animo nequaquam 
 dubitemus. Nos quidem, confecto jam paene bello, et 
 profligatis ubique patriae hostibus, nihil sequius, aut 
 ad pacem, remque publicam stabiliendam firmius esse 
 duximus, quam ut illi qui vel libertatem, ductore sem- 
 per Deo, per nos adepti sunt, vel vitam atque fortunas 
 post belli civilis facinora, nostro dono atque gratia 
 receperuHt, nobis vicissim suis raagistratibus fidem et 
 officium, solenni, si opus esset, more testarenter, atque 
 prpestarent. Praesertim cum tot homines inquieti et 
 inimici, semel atque iterum in fidem accepti, nullum 
 neque domi neque foris perfidiose agendi, novasque 
 turbas excitandi finem faciant. Itaque formulam 
 quandam sponsionis perscribendam curavimus, qua 
 
778 
 
 LITERiE SENATUS ANGLICANI. 
 
 omncs qui aut munus aliquod in repub. sustinerent, 
 aut leg'tim prtesidio rauniti incolumitate, otio, caeteris- 
 que vitte comraodis fruerentur, conceptis verbis se 
 obstrinperent. Hanc etiam per omncs Colonias et 
 quacunque gentium nostri cives negotiandi causa 
 agerent, mittendam ccnsuimus ; ut eorum quibus pne- 
 ficimur, fidem, prout decet atque necessc est, explora- 
 tam et coijnitam habeamus. Quo magfis mirari subit 
 quod ex urbe \'estra niercatores nostri scribunt, sibi 
 mandata nostra per unum atque alterum vestri ordinis 
 exequi non licere. Sane quod potentissimoe foedera- 
 torum in Beljfio provincite suarum rerum et rationum 
 consultissimte, nihil ad se pertiuere existimaverunt, si 
 percg'rini scilicet Anfjli debitam suis domi ma^strati- 
 bus in btec vel ilia verba fidem astringant, id quo pacto 
 vestrcB civitati suspectum aut molestum esse possit, 
 fatemur plan^ nos nescire. Verura hoc a privato quo- 
 rundam sive studio sive formidine profectum, quos 
 errabundi quidam et pulsi patria Scoti, minis dicun- 
 tur impulisse, ut mercatorcs nostros a fide sua nobis 
 obliganda deterrerent, civitati non imputamus. Inter- 
 ea tamen summo tos opere hortamur atque etiam 
 rogamus (non enim mercatura jam, sed respub. ipsa 
 agitur) ut ne quenquam apud vos patiamini, cujus 
 hoc nihil potest interesse, authoritati quam nos in 
 nostros populares, non exterorum arbitrio aut judicio, 
 sed jure patrio obtinemus, suam quamcunque authori- 
 tatem interponere. Quis enim non segr^ ferat, si nos 
 vestris hie Hamburgensibus sua erga vos fide interdi- 
 ceremus. Valete. 
 Dat. Jan. 4. 1649. 
 
 Serenissimo ac potentissimo Principi Philippo Quarto 
 HisPANiARUM Reffi, Parlamenlum Reipub. AnglIjE, 
 Salutem. 
 
 Antonium Ascharaum virum probum, eruditum, et 
 luculenta familia ortum, de rebus in commune, tarn 
 Hispanorum, quam Anglorum genti, ut spes est, valde 
 utilibus, ad majestatem vestram legamus. Quamobrem 
 ut ei honestum iter, atque tutum in urbem regiam, sicut 
 moris est, necnon et reditum concedere, et prtestare 
 velis, parem referre gratiam parati, officios^ petimus. 
 Sin id minus placuerit, ut quae vestra hac in parte sit 
 voluntas, ei quam primum significetur, utque tuto quo 
 volet abeundi potestas fiat. 
 
 Dat. Feb. 4. 1G49. 
 
 Serenissimo ac potentissimo Principi Philippo Quarto 
 HisPANiARL'M Reffi, Parlamentum Reipub. ANGLiiE, 
 Salutem. 
 
 Quis rerum nostrarura status sit, quamque atrocibus 
 injuriis suhacti, sumptis tandem armis, capcssendie 
 libcrtatis consilium ceperimus, constituta qua nunc 
 utimur republicte forma, neque majestatem vestram 
 potest latere, neque alium quern vis, qui cvulgata super 
 hac re scripta nostra aequo animo pcrlegerit. Nobis 
 profecto fidem nostram, (equitatcm, patientiam, testa- 
 tarn cu ctis et probatam reddere, autboritatem etiam, 
 hoDorcm et decus nostrum adversus infamcs exulum et 
 perfugarum linguas tucri, apud idoucos rerum Kstima- 
 
 tores difficile non debet esse. Nunc quod exterarum 
 nationum magis interest, deletis, aut depressis patriee 
 hostibus, Deo nempe mirific6 adjuti, ad pacem et ami- 
 citiam omni impcrio potiorem cum vicinis gentibus ha- 
 bendam, paratos nos esse palam atque ex animo pro- 
 fiteniur. Has ob causas spectatae solcrtise et probitalis 
 virum Antonium Aschamum in Hispaniam ad majes- 
 tatem vestram misimus ; qui de amicitia deque solito 
 inter utramque gentem commercio cum majestate ves- 
 tra agat ; vel etiam ad novas pactiones, si ita visum 
 fueiit, de integro sanciendas viam muniat. Huic 
 igitur vestrse majestatis adeundi copiam ut faciatis, 
 ejusque incolumitati, necnon etiam honori, quoad isto 
 apud vos munere perfuncturus est, velitis prospicere 
 rogamus : ut et ea quoe A nobis mandata habet, utrique 
 genti, ut speramus, profutura, libere exponat ; et men- 
 tis vestrae qui sensus his de rebus sit, nos quam primum 
 certiores faciat. 
 
 Westmonasterio, dat. Feb. 4. 1649. 
 
 '9m 
 
 Serenissimo Principi Joanm Quarto Lusitani^e Re^ 
 Parlamentum Reipub. ANGLiiE, Salutem. 
 
 MuLTA nos et infidee pacis, et iutestini belli mala 
 ultima perpessos, eo demum loci redactos fuissc, ut si 
 salvam rempubl. vellemus, ejus administrandi ratio 
 magna ex parte immutandi esset, ex iis quae a nobis 
 hac de re scripta publice et declarata sunt, majestati 
 vestrae jam pridem notuni esse arbitramur. Quibus, ut 
 par est, si fides potius haberetur, quam improbissimis 
 perditorum hominum calumniis, sane qui foris de re- 
 bus nostris pessimd jam scntiunt, iis fortasse multo 
 aequioribus uteremur. Nam quod nos jure nostro, pro- 
 que gentilitia Anglorum libertate, recte et majorum 
 more fortiter fecisse contendimus, de eo pravas et ob- 
 stinatas nequissimorum hominum opinioncs ex aniniis 
 evellere, humanap, opis aut ingenii certe non est. Nunc 
 autcm quod nobis cum nationibus exiemis commune, 
 et in rem utrinque magis existit, amicitiam et com- 
 mercium quod nostris hominibus, cum vicina quacum- 
 quc gcnte consuevit esse, non imminutum, sed auctum 
 atque ratum magnopere cupimus. Cumque vcstro in 
 regno populares nostri perraagna et per utrique genti 
 quaestuosa habeant negotia, iis ne impedimentum ali- 
 quod aut incommodum afferatur, quantum in nobis est, 
 curabimus. Td vero praedicimus frustra fore, dum piratis 
 et defcctoribus nostris perfugium sibi vestris in portubus 
 rcperire, et onerariis Anglorum navibus, vi captis atque 
 direptis, bona civium nostrorum sub hasta rendere 
 Olissipone, ut nuntiatur, permissum est. Huic malo 
 quo maturius occuratur, et de ea, quam petimus, ami- 
 citia clarius ut constet, nobilissinium virum Carolum 
 Vane, oratoris munere praeditum, cum mandntis atque 
 diplomate, commissi sibi muneris teste, ad majestatem 
 vestram legavimus. Eum itaque bcnigno audire, 
 fidem ei adhibere, ejus deuiquc incolumitati atque 
 honori, per omnes regni vestri fines, ut velis consulere 
 obtestamur. Hacc omnia et nobis pcrgrata, et ma- 
 jestati vestrae, si fort6 usus vencrit, nostra omnium 
 officia niutua fore pollicemur. 
 
 Westmonasterio, dat. Feb. 4. 1649. 
 
LITERS SENATUS ANGLICAN!. 
 
 779 
 
 Serenissimo Principi Joanni Qvarto LusiXANiiE Regi, 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Anglic, Salutem. 
 
 QuoTiDiANi fere, et perquam graves aflFerentur ad 
 "iios miiitii, classiarios quosdatn nostros, et gubernatores, 
 qui, abductis per scelus atque proditionem, quibus 
 praeerant, navibus, superiore anno a nobis defecerant, 
 elapsos demiim ex eo portit Hiberniae, in quo aestate 
 fernie tota obsessi, vix pcenam suis flagitiis dignam 
 effiigerant, ad Lusitanite nunc cram, Tagique fluminis 
 ostium se recepisse: Ibi captis atque direptis quee ad 
 mercaturam ultro citroque commeant Anglorum na- 
 vigiis, piraticam strenue facere, et vicina quaeque 
 niaria, fretumque omne Gaditanum latrociniis infestum 
 atque infame reddidisse. Cui male nisi prime quoque 
 tempore obviam eatur, actum esse de commercio, quod 
 nostris hominibus cum Lusitanis peramplum et per 
 utrique genti qutestuosum est, quis non videt? Quam- 
 obrem a vestra majestate etiam atque etiam petimus, 
 ut piratas nostros et defectores, Portugalliee finibus 
 exire jubeas; et siqui a Carolo Stuarto pseudolegati 
 adsunt, eorum uti rationem ne habere dig-neris ; nosque 
 potius agnoscas, ad quos Anglicarum jam summa re- 
 rum, Deo plan6 aspirante, rediit; utque nostrae amico- 
 rum classi, non minus vestris quam Anglorum com- 
 modis inservienti, Lusitani^e portus, atque flumina 
 praecludi ne sinas. * * * 
 
 Philippo Quarto Hispaniarum Regi. 
 
 Quam graviter quamque acerbe tulerit majestas 
 vestra nefariam illam Antonii Aschami oratoris nostri 
 cffideni, et quid punicndis ejus interfectoribus hactenus 
 effectum sit cum ex literis vestris, tum ex Domino 
 Alphonso de Cardenas legato vestro percepimus. Ve- 
 runtanien facinoris illius atrocitatem quoties nobiscum 
 reputamus quje et ipsam vel habendi vel conservandi 
 commercii rationem funditus tollit, si legatorum jus 
 apud onines nationes sanctissimum impune tanto scelere 
 violabitur, non possumus quin majestatem vestram 
 summa instantia iteriim efflagitemus ut supplicium de 
 illis parricidis primo quoque tempore debitum sumatur, 
 utque justitiam uUa mora aut obtentu religionis frus- 
 trari diutiiis ne sinat. Et quanquam potentissimi regis 
 amicitiam plurimi certe facimus, tamen ut tam infandi 
 parricidii authores dignas suo scelere poenaspersolvant 
 omnem dare operam debemus. Humanitatem quidem 
 illam, quam jussu vestro in Hispaniae portubus nostri 
 homines persensere, prteclaram etiam vestrse majestatis 
 in nos voluntatem, quam nuper amplissimis verbis 
 vestro nomine legatus nobis exposuit, grato animo 
 agnoscimus, neque non voluptati nobis erit eadem pa- 
 riter officia, si quis usus venerit, vestrse majestati et 
 Hispanorum genti reddere. At nisi j ustitise sine mora 
 satisHat quod jamdiu petimus, quo niti fundaraento 
 amicitia sincera ac diuturna possit non videmus, cujus 
 tamen conservandae a nobis quidem nulla honesta oc- 
 casio facile omittetur, cui etiam fini prseseutiara legati 
 apud nos vestri conducere existimamus. 
 
 Legato Hispanico, 
 
 Excellentissime Domine, 
 
 Concilium Status, quam primum per gravissima 
 reipub. negotia licuit, in parlamentum attulit quatuor 
 ilia scripta quse visum est excellentioe vcstroe undevi- 
 gesimo proxirai Decembris cum concilio communicare, 
 concilium a parlamento in mandatis habet, quod ad pri- 
 mum scriptorum illorum caput, de nuperi scilicet resi- 
 dentis sui Dom. Aschami nefariis interfectoribus, re- 
 sponsum hoc reddere : 
 
 Parlamentum tamdiu, toties, tamque merito, debitum 
 eorum supplicium postulasse ut ampliiis dicere opus 
 non sit in re tanta, ubi (ut excellentia vestra pulchre 
 meminit) regiae majestatis ipsa agitur authoritas : Et 
 sine qua re omnis ratio societatis humanae et conser- 
 vandae inter gentes amicitise tolli necesse erit. Neque 
 sane ullo ab religioue petito argumento intelligere 
 possumus, innocentium sanguinem scelestissiraa ctede 
 efTusum non esse vindicandum. Etiamnum itaque 
 instat parlamentum et ab regia majestate expectat, ut, 
 juxta priora sua postulata, satisfactio sibi re ipsa atque 
 effectu detur. 
 
 Serenissimo Principi Leopoldo Austria Archiduci, 
 Provinciarum in Belgio sub Philippo rege Prcesidi. 
 
 Ut primum ad nos non sine gravissima querela 
 perlatum est, Janam Puccheringam illustri et opu- 
 lenta familia puellam haeredem, cum adhuc propter 
 setatem sub tutoribus esset, baud procul ea domo. in 
 qua tum forte Grenovici agebat, de manibus et com- 
 plexu famularum raptam fuisse, et parato ad id na- 
 vigioin Flandriam subito deportatam, Walciicujusdam 
 insidiis, qui per fas et nefas omni molitus est, ut pu- 
 pillam locupletem, vel ostenso mortis metu, ad nuben- 
 dum sibi adigeret, huic tam atroci tamque inaudito 
 sceleri primo quoque tempore occurrendum esse rati, 
 dedimus quibusdam negotium, ut cum prsefectis Neo- 
 porti et Ostendse (nam in ea forte loca infelix ilia dice- 
 batur appulsa) agerent de ingenua raptoris manibus 
 eripienda. Qui utrique pro sua singulari humanitate 
 et honesti studio, captivae, perque latrocinium domo 
 abductae opem libenter tulerunt; ilia vero ut praeda- 
 torum vim quoquo modo effugeret, in ccEUobium vota- 
 rum virginum veluti sequestro deposita est. Quam ut 
 ille Walcius inde abduceret, actionem in foro eccle- 
 siastico Iprensis episcopi de contracto secum matrimo- 
 nio instituit. Veruntamen, cum et raptor et rapta nos- 
 trates omnino sint, ipsum etiam facinus in nostra 
 ditione perpetratum, quod juratis testibus abunde li- 
 quet, haereditas denique tam lauta, quam ilium im- 
 primis inhiasse constat, in nostra potestate sit, hujus 
 propterea causae cognitionem totam, atque judicium 
 ad nos duntaxat pertinere arbitramur. Veuiat hue 
 igitur qui se sponsum nominal, suam hie litem instruat, 
 quamque jure suam contendit esse uxorem, tradi sibi 
 postulet. Hoc interim a vestra celsitudine vehemen- 
 ter petimus, quod et per nostrum internuntium Brux- 
 ellis coraraorantem jam aliquoties pelivimus, ut atflic- 
 
780 
 
 LlTKKyE SENATUS ANGLICAN!. 
 
 tani et iiulignis ruodis lial>i(ani puellani, honestis 
 parentibiis ortam, sua ex patria pra.'(latoriuin in nio- 
 duin abductam, quoad potes, liberam et incoluincm 
 redirc duinum stnas. Hoc abs te non nos tantum, 
 siquam vestrae celsitudini parem a nobis gratiam, 
 parque beneficium reddi posse accident, sed ipsa ctiani 
 liuinanitas, ipse pudor qui ad tucndum scxus illius 
 faonorem et pudicitiam viris bonis atque fortibus incsse 
 debet, junctis una precibus afflapitare videntur. Vale. 
 Westmonasterio, Martii 28, 1650. 
 
 Serenitsimo Principi Joanni Quarto LusiTANiiE 
 Regi. 
 
 Quod Oratorem nostrum et honorifice acceperit ma- 
 jestas vestra, et beni{jne statim audierit, nullam inter- 
 ponendam esse moram statuinius, quin alteris quam 
 priiniim literis nostris intelligeres, gratissinium id 
 nobis accidisse ; nosque nihil sanctius decrevisse, quam 
 pacem, amicitiam, commercium, quod nobis cum na- 
 tionibus plerisque exteris, et inter eas cum Lusitanis 
 jam dill est, nullo nostro dicto aut facto, non prius 
 laccssiti, violare ; nee alia mente aut consilio classem 
 Anglicanam Tagi fluminis ad ostium misisse, quam 
 hostes jam toti^s fug-atos persequendi, resque nostras 
 repetendi, quas per vim et proditionem suis dominis 
 ablatas, colluvies ista perfugarum vestras in oras, ip- 
 samque etiam Olissiponem, tanquam ad certissimas 
 latrocinii sui nundinas, asportavit. Verum isti homi- 
 nes cujus audacite, furoris, et insaniee sint, ex ipsorum 
 moribus flagitiosissimis omnes jam pene Lusitanos 
 abundc pcrspexisse arbitramur. Quo faciliusa majes- 
 tate vestra impetraturos nos esse confidinius, primum 
 ut illustrissimo viro Odoardo Poppamo, quam huic 
 novae classi praefecimus, quibus potes rebus ad proeda- 
 tores hosce debellandos adjumento esse velis, utque eos 
 cum duce suo, non hospites, sed piratas, non merca- 
 tores, sed commercii pestes, jurisque gentium viola- 
 tores, intra regni vestri portus, et munimenta diutius 
 consistere ne sinas; sed qua patent Lusitaniee fines, 
 terra marique pelli jubeas: sin hoc minus, ut nobis 
 saltem pace vestra liceat defectores nostros, et praedones 
 propriis duntaxat viribus aggredi, et, si Deus dederit, 
 in nostram potestatem redigcre. Hoc ut prioribus 
 literis vehementur petivirhus, sic jam idem studio 
 maximo atque opere ab majestate vestra contendimus. 
 Hac sive aequitate, sive beneficio, non justitiae solum 
 tuoe famam per omnes gentes ben6 moratas adauxcris, 
 sed et nos imprimis, populumque Anglicanum Lusi- 
 tanis jam ante a minime adversum, tibi tuoque populo 
 majorem in modum devinxeris. Vale. 
 
 Westmonasterio, dat. 27 Aprilis, 1650. 
 
 Hamburgensibus. 
 
 De controversiis mcrcalorum, nonnullis etiam aliis 
 de rebus qute Reipubl. nostrte dignitatem aliquanto 
 propriiis attingere videntur, scriptum inter nos baud 
 semel, atque responsura est. Cum vcro istiusmodi 
 negotia solis literis confici vix posse intelligamus, esse 
 aatem a Carolo Stuarto immissos in urbcm vcstram 
 
 scditiosos quosduni, nulla re magis quam scelere iitque 
 audacia instructos, qui id agiint, ut nostrorum hunii- 
 num, quorum prit'sertim fides in patriam perspectior sit, 
 commercium tarn vetustum in civitate vestra funditus 
 tollant, idcirco virum nobilem et spectatissimum Rich, 
 ardum Bradshaw nostrum apud vos internuntium esse 
 jussimus: qui secundum ca qute a nobis mandatahabct, 
 de rebus iis atque ncgotiis qu»; cum utriusquc rci])ubl. 
 utilitatibus conjuncta sunt, vobiscum uberius commu- 
 nicare, et transigere possit. Hunc igitur ut benevolo 
 quam primum audiatis rogamus ; utque ei per omnia 
 fides ea, isque honos habeatur, qui hujusmodi munus 
 recte obeuutibus ubique gentium haberi solet. Valete. 
 Westmonasterio, dat. 2 Aprilis, 1650. 
 
 Hamburgensibus. 
 
 Amplissimi, raagnifici, et spectabiles Viri, 
 Amici charissimi ; 
 
 Studia vestra quibus venientem ad vos residentcni 
 nostrum accepistis, tam propensa, tamque egrcgia ex- 
 titisse, et libenter intelligimus, et in eadem erga nos 
 voluntate atque animo perseverare velitis magnopere 
 hortamur. Idque eo vehementius, quod perlatum ad 
 nos est, exules illos nostros, de quibus jam siepe scrip- 
 simus, efferre se solito insolentius in urbe vestra, ncc 
 contumelias solum, sed et minas quasdara atrocissimas 
 in oratorem nostrum palam projicere. Hujus itaqac 
 salutem atque etiam debitum honorem hisce rursus 
 literis commendatissimum vobis esse volumus. In illos 
 autem perfugas et sicarios, tam veteres quam recentes, 
 si maturiiis animadvertetis, et nobis gratissimum, et au- 
 thoritate vestra atqueprudentiadignumfeceritis. Valete. 
 
 Westmonasterio, dat. 31 Maii, 1650. 
 
 Philippo Quarto Hispaniarum Regi. 
 
 Antonium Aschamumanobisad majestatem vestram 
 nuper missum oratorem, eoque nomine a prsefectis ves- 
 tris perhumaniter et publice acceptum, post itineris 
 pericula tam longinqui, primo statim adventu in urbem 
 regiam, omni prsesidio nudatum, tam f(jedo parricidio 
 confossum in diversorio quodam, et cum Joanne Bap- 
 tista de Ripa ejus interprete mactatum esse, magno 
 sane cum dolore accepimus. De illis aulem parricidis 
 jam comprehensis, ut fertur, et in custodiam dalis, qui 
 non nos duntaxat per illius latera, sed vestram quoque 
 fidem atque honorem consauciare ac ptene transfigerc 
 sunt ausi, deque eorum quibuscunque hortatoribus ac 
 sociis ut supplicium tanto scelere dignum primo quoque 
 tempore sumatur, opere quam maximo a majestat( 
 vestra petimus. Quanquam id nihilo minus factum 
 iri, quod petimus, utpote a rege sua sponte pio atqu( 
 justo, etiamsi nemo peteret, non dubitamus. Quod rc- 
 liquum est, ut corpus exanime amicis suis atque fanuilis 
 in patriam dcportandum tradatur, utque eorum saluti 
 qui supersunt ea, quae par est, ratione consultum atque 
 provisum tantisper sit rogamus, donee response ad 
 hasce literas, si fieri potest, sccum ablato, vestrae picta- 
 tis atque justitiae testes ad nos quam primiim redierint. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Dat. 28 Junii, 1650 
 
LiTERiE SENATUS ANGLICANI. 
 
 781 
 
 Excelleniissimo Domino Antonio Ludovico de la 
 Cerda, Medina Celi Z>hci, Andaliti* Prasidi ; 
 Consilium Status Parlamenti Anglic authoritate 
 constitutum, Sahitem. 
 
 AcciPiMus ab ornatissimis virisquosnuper in Portu- 
 galli.nm ad persequendos proditores, resque nostras 
 repetendas cum classe misimus, se ab Amplitudine 
 Vestra, quoties conti<^it ut Galloeciae oram leg-erent, 
 qiiae proefectiira vestra est, et perhumaniter illis portu- 
 bus exceptos fuisse, et iis rebus omnibus adjutos, qute 
 navig'antibus usui sulent esse. Ei vestra humanitas, 
 cum pergrata nobis omni tempore fuisset, turn est nunc 
 prcRcipue, cum aliorum iuiquum in nos aninium nuUo 
 nierito nostro aliquibus in locis experimur. Petimus 
 itaque abs te, " Illustrissime Domine," ut in eadem erga 
 ijos voluntate ac benevolentia permanere velis : utque 
 nostris bominibus, quoties ad ea littora naves appule- 
 rint, pro solita humanitate tua, favere et adjumento esse 
 pergas ; tibique persnadeas nihil nos beneficii loco abs 
 te petere quod non eodem studio vel tibi vel tuis red- 
 dere, si quando similis occasio nobis dabitur, parati 
 erimus. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Dat. 7 Novemb. 1650. 
 
 Signal. Consilii sigillo, 
 
 Jo. Braoshaw Praeses. 
 
 Illustriet Magnijico Civitatis Gedanensis Senatui. 
 
 Magnifici atquc Amplissimi Domini, Amici Cbarissimi ; 
 FftEQUENTEsad noslitcrae mercatoruni iu)stroruiu,qui 
 Borussiae per oram uegotiantur, allatte sunt, quibus 
 tributum grave quoddam et insolitum nuper in niagno 
 Polonorum concilio imponi sibi queruntur : ut dcciniam 
 scilicet facultatum suarum omnium partem sublevando 
 Scotorum regi, nostro bosti,suppeditarent. Quod cum 
 juri gentium contrarium plane sit, tractari hunc in 
 niodum bospites et mercatores, iniquissimum etiam, ut 
 cujus tjrannide sint domi, divina ope, libcrati, iidem in 
 aliena republica stipendia pcrsolvere cogerentur, non 
 dubitamus quin pro ilia libertate, qua frui vos intelligi- 
 mus, tam grave onus mercatoribus imperari in urbe 
 vestra pati nolitis ; in qua amicitiam et commercium, 
 nee sine magno vestrse civitatis emolumento, per tot 
 annos babuere. Si est igitur ut nostrorum hominum 
 apud vos mercaturam facientium tutclam suscipere 
 velitis, quod quidem cum ab sequitate et prudentia 
 vestra, turn etiam adignitate splendidissimae urbis baud 
 dubitanter expectamus, eam operam dabimus, ut gra- 
 tissimum id esse nobis omni tempore sentiatis ; quoties 
 in ditione nostra Gedanenses vel negotia habuerint, vel 
 naves, quod stepe fit, ad portus nostros appulerint. 
 Westmonasterio, Dat. 6 Feb. 1650. 
 
 Intermnitio Portugallico. 
 
 Illustris Domine, 
 LiTERAs tuasbujus mensis quinto dccimo Hamptona 
 ad nos datas accepimus. In quibus significas te a rege 
 Portugalliae ad Parlamentum Reipublicoe Angliae mis- 
 
 sum esse : quo autem muneris titulo, sive legati, sive 
 agentis, sive internuntii non dicis ; id quod ex literis 
 quas a rege babes commendatitias sive credentiales in- 
 telligere velimus ; quarum exemplar ad nos poteris 
 quam primum mittere ; simul et illud scire, satisne plena 
 potestate instructus venias ad eas injurias expiandas, 
 damnaque earesarcienda, quae a rege vestro illata huic 
 reipubliciE sunt : dum bostem nostrum tola jcstate 
 proxima suis portubus tutatus classem Anglicanam in 
 rebelles et perfugas quos eo usque insecuta erat, impe- 
 tum facere parantem cohibuit, hostera ab invadendis 
 nostris non cohibuit. De his omnibus ut satisfacias, si 
 ampla et libera mandata accepisse te scripseris, et iila- 
 rum quas diximusliterarum exemplar una miseris, dein- 
 ceps curabimus, ut ad nos fide publica primo quoque 
 tempore tuto commeare possis : ubi cum regis literie 
 perlectoe fuerint, tibi, quae mandata porro attulisti ea 
 libere expouendi facultas dabitur. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Anglic Serenissimo Principi 
 D. Ferdinando Secundo, Magna Duci Etruri^, 
 Sfc. Salutem. 
 
 LiTERAS celsitudinis vestrce 22 Aprilis 1651, Flo- 
 rentiee datas, et a residente vestro domino Almerico 
 Salvetti nobis redditas accepimus, in quibus Anglico 
 nomini quantopere faveat celsitudo vestra gentemque 
 eam quanti faciat, facile perspicimus, id quod non so- 
 lum mercatores nostri, qui in portubus vestris multos 
 jam annos negotiantur, verum etiam adolescentes qui- 
 que nostroe nationis nobilissimi, atqTiehonestissimi,qui 
 vestras per urbes aut iter fecere, aut excolendi ingenii 
 causa commorati sunt, testantur atque confirmant, quae 
 cum nobis pergrata sane sint, et acceptissima, tum hoc 
 etiam atque etiam petimus, ut quo animo, quoque 
 studio in nostros mercatores, aliosque nostrte reipublicae 
 cives Hetruscara ditionem peragrantes, serenitas vestra 
 consuevit esse, in eo velit perseverare : nosque vicissim 
 pollicemur atque recipimus, quod ad Parlamentum at- 
 tinet, nihil defuturum, quod et commercio et amicitiee 
 mutua?, quae inter utramque gentem jam diu invetera- 
 vit, firmandae ac stabiliendae possit conducere; quam 
 quidem omnibus utrinque humanifatis officiis, mutua- 
 que observantia, in perpetuum conservari cupimus at- 
 que optamus. 
 
 Westmonasterio, 20 Januarii, 1651. 
 Subscripsitet Parlamenti sigillum apponi fecit 
 
 GULIELMUS LeNTHALL, 
 
 Prolocutor Parlamenti Reipub. Angliae. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Anglic Illustri et magnijico 
 Civitatis Hamburgensis Senatui, Salutem. 
 
 Amplissimi, magnifici, etspectabiles viri, 
 Amici cbarissimi; 
 Parlamentum Reipublicae Angliae cum antiquam 
 amicitiam, mutuumque commercium, quae inter gentem 
 Anglicam vestramque civitatem est, continuatum mag- 
 noper^ vellet et conservatum, baud ita pridem Richard- 
 um Bradshaw, armigerum, residentis munere pracditura 
 illuc misit, eique inter alia mandata eo spectantia di- 
 
782 
 
 LITEILE SENATUS ANGLICANI. 
 
 sertis verbis mandavit, ut contra quosdam vestrse ditionis 
 justitiam efflag-itaret, qui societatis Anglicaj conciona- 
 torem interficere sunt conati, quique deputatoillius so- 
 cietatis impias manus injecere, et mercatoribus quibus- 
 dam ejus societatis preecipuis impias manus injecere, 
 eosque in navem pnedatoriam abduxerant, et quamvis 
 preedictus residens, cum exciperetur primum et audi- 
 retur, accepta ab hac republica mandata illasigillatim 
 vobis Dota fecerit, quibus justitiae vestrte exemplum in 
 nialeficos illos edendum expectabatur, tamen cum ex- 
 pectationi uostrae respousum non esse intelligeremus, 
 illud nobiscum cojjitantes quanto in periculo et nostri 
 boniines et illorum facultates versarentur, si de incolu- 
 mitate illorum et tutela adversus bostium malitiam et 
 iniquos oppug'natores non satis provisum esset, rursus 
 prcPdicto residenti in mandatisdedimus, ut nostrum ejus 
 rei sensura representaret : utque bujus reipublicae no- 
 mine vos ut amicitiam et necessitudinem inter banc 
 rempub. vestramque civitatem initam mag-numque 
 usura qui buic reipub. cum vestra civitate intercedit 
 couservare, adeoque mercatores nostros cum eorum pri- 
 vilegiis sine ulla violatione protegere velitis hortare- 
 tur; utque nominatim in quemdam, cui nomen Garmes 
 est, qui se in banc rempublicam contumeliose gessit, 
 certosque ex societate mercatorum Anglica, vestra in 
 urbe commorantes, ad conturaeliam bujus reipublicpp 
 magnamque nostiorum mercatorum molestiam, in Spi- 
 rensem cameram publice citavit: quare reparationem 
 ejusmodi expectamus quae eequitati et justitiae consen- 
 tanea est. 
 
 De hisce capitibus, et si quid amplius ad bujus rei- 
 pub. cum vestra civitate amicitiam pertinuerit, preedic- 
 tum residentem bujus reipublicee nomine ad vos jussi- 
 mus accedere: cui, ut fidem amplam in iis quse hue 
 spectantia proposuerit babcatis, rogamus. 
 
 Westmonasterio, dat. 12 Martii, 1651. 
 Subscripsit, et Parlamenti sigillum imprimendum 
 curavit, Prolocutor, &c. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipvb. Anglix serenissinue Chris- 
 tians, SUECORUM, GOTHORUM, VaNDALORUMQUE 
 
 Regince, ^c. Salutem. 
 
 Serenissima Regina; 
 
 Majestatis vestrae literas ad parlamentum reipub. 
 Angliie 26 proxime elapsi Septembris Stockbolma da- 
 tas per Petrum Spiering Silvercroon accepimus, et per- 
 legimus: et vctcrem quidem amicitiam, nee non com- 
 mercium magnumque usum, qui Anglis cum Suecorum 
 gente antiquitus intercedit, permanere atque indies au- 
 gere vehementer atque ex animo cupimus: Neque du- 
 bitamus, quin legatus a majestate vestra ampliter in- 
 structus venerit ad ea maximc proponcnda, quae in rem 
 atque dccus gcnti utrique futura imprimis fuisscnt, 
 quacque nos audire ex eo paratissimi i'uissemus, et quod 
 utrinque potissimum salubre atque utile videretur, id 
 primo quoque tempore effectum reddidisse. Verum 
 summo rerum moderatori Deo ita visum est, ut is ante- 
 quam audiri se pcliisset de iis quee parlamento expo- 
 nenda ab majestate vestra in mandatis babebat, evenit 
 
 ut ex bac vita excederet (cujus quidem desiderium ita 
 a>grd atque acerb^ tulimus, ut qui simul in divina vo- 
 luntate acqniescere debeamus) unde et majestatis ves- 
 troe quae mens esset adbuc scire nequeamus, ejusque 
 rei progressibus in presens injecta mora sit: quocirca 
 optimum nobis visum est bisce literis, quas, misso bac 
 ipsa de re nuntio nostro, dedimus, significare vestrae 
 majestati, quam gratce literae vestrte quamquc acccp- 
 lus vester publicus minister parlamento reipub. Angliae 
 fuerit; simulque vestree majestatis amicitiam qnanto- 
 pere expectamus ; quamque etiam, ut par est, tantte 
 principis amicitiam plurimi faciemus: deque illo quod 
 inter banc rempub. et majestatis vestrse regnum est 
 commercio exaugendo, ita existimabimus quemadmo- 
 dum de re maximi utrobique momenti existimare de- 
 bemus: quod et ea de causa parlamento reipub. An- 
 gliee acceptissimum erit. Adeoque vestram majestatem 
 divinae tutelae recommendare volumus : Quorum no- 
 mine et autboritate. 
 
 Datis Westmonasterio die Martis ann. Dom. 1651. 
 Subscripsit et Parlamenti Sigillum imprimendum 
 curavit Prolocutor Parlamenti Reipub. Angliae. 
 
 Parlamentum ReipuhliccB Anglic Serenissimo Prin- 
 cipi Ferdinando Secundo Hetrurijs ilfa^/to Duci, 
 Salutem. 
 
 Literas celsitudinis vestrae 22 Aprilis 1651, Floren- 
 tia datas, et dresidente vestro domino Almerico Salvetti 
 nobis redditas accepimus ; in quibus Anglico nomini 
 quantopere faveat celsitudo vestra, gentenique earn 
 quanti facial, facile perspicimus: id quod non solum 
 mercatores nostri, qui in portubus vestris multos jam 
 annos ncgotiantur, verum etiam adolescentes quique 
 nostrap. nationis nobilissimi atque honestissimi, qui ves- 
 tras per urbes aut iter fecere, aut excolendi ingenii causa 
 commorati sunt, testantur atque confirmant. Quae 
 cum nobis pergrata sane sunt et acceptissima, turn hoc 
 etiam atque etiam petimus, ut quo animo quoque studio 
 in nostros mercatores, aliosque nostras reipublicae cives 
 Hetruscam ditionem peragrantes serenitas vestra con- 
 suevit esse, in eo velit perseverare : nosqne vicissira 
 poUicemur atque recipimus, quod ad parlamentum at- 
 tiiiet, nihil defuturum, quod et commercio et aniicitiae 
 mutuae, quae inter utramque rempub. tam diu invete- 
 ravit, firmandae ac stabiliendae possit conducere: quam 
 quidem omnibus utrinque bumanitalis officiis, mutua- 
 que observantia, in perpetuum conservari cupimus at- 
 que optamus. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Maii 22, 1651. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipublicce ANGLlyE serenissimo ac po- 
 tentissimo Principi Philippo Quarto Hispaniarum 
 Regi, Salutem. 
 
 Permagnas nobis querelas deferunt bujus reipub. 
 mercatores, qui in ditionibus vestrae majestatis nierca- 
 turam faciunt, de vi multa atque injuriis sibi allatis, 
 deque novis etiam tributis sibi impasitis a prefectis 
 aliisque officialibus vcstrorum portuum et locorum, utti 
 negotia babent, et nominatim in iusulis Canariis, 
 
LITERtE senatus anglicani. 
 
 783 
 
 idqiie contra foederis articulos, quos commercii causa 
 utraque natio inter se sanxit. Quas eorum querelas 
 veras esse jurejurando confirmavere. Nobisque demon- 
 strant, nisi jus suum obtinere possint, suaque damna 
 resarciantur, nisi denique contra vim istiusmodi atque 
 injurias praesidiuni aliquod certum, atque tutelam et 
 sibi et fortunis suis habituri sint, non posse se amplius 
 iis in locis neg'otiari. Quibus eorum querelis graviter 
 a nobis perpensis, cumque facta illorum ministrorum 
 iniqua, aut non omnino aut secus qudm res se habet ad 
 notitiam vestrae majestatis pervenisse existimemus, 
 visum est nobis ipsas eorum querelas cum hisce litteris 
 ad majestatem vestram una mittere ; nee dubitamus 
 quin majestas vestra, cum ipsius justitias amore, turn 
 etiam commercii causa, quod vestris baud minus quam 
 nostris hominibus fructuosum est, suis prtecipere velit, 
 ut ah iniquis illis nostrorum vexationibus abstineant, 
 utque hujus gentis mercatores expeditam justitiam ob- 
 tinere queant, necnon debitam earum injuriarum repa- 
 rationem, quae a domino Petro de Carillo de Guzman, 
 atque aliis, allatae sibi sunt, contra praedictos fnederis 
 articulos, utque perficere velit majestas vestra, ut prae- 
 dicti mercatores fructum illorum articulorum percipere 
 queant, in eaque vestra tutela sint, ut tam ipsi quara 
 fortuna; suse ab omni injuria liberie et incolumes esse 
 possint. Hoc autem magna ex parte consecuturos se 
 esse putant, si adcmptam sibi illam de judice conser- 
 vatore schedulam, qui cos a novo quodam consulatu in 
 se quidem iniquiore defendat, majestas vestra rursus 
 concesserit ; ne si nullum ab injuria refugiura sibi de- 
 tur, abrumpi illud commercium, quod utrique genti 
 commoda baud parva attulit, violatis hunc in modum 
 foederis articulis, necesse sit. 
 Westmonasterio, Augusti, 1651. 
 
 Serenissimo Principi Venetiarum Duct, Senatuigue 
 Cehissimo, Concilium Status Parlamenti Reipub. 
 AyGhiJE Authoritate constitutum, Salutem. 
 
 •Serenissime Princeps, celsissime Senatus, 
 Amici charissimi ; 
 Mercatores quidam nostri, quorum alteri Joannes 
 Dickons, alteri Job Throckmorton nomen est, simulque 
 alii apud nos questi sunt, quod cum Novembris octavo 
 et vigesimo I60I, ex jure et authoritate curiae nostras 
 ammiralatus occupassent in navi Hirundine vulgo 
 nuncupata, cui in Dunis consistent! Isaacus Taylor 
 magister erat, centum dolia caveari vulgo dicti, quee 
 sua propria bona essent, inque sinu Moscovitico Arch- 
 angeli dicto eadem in navem imposita; atque in ea 
 curia, prout lege agitur, decretum obtinuissent, quo 
 dicta caveari dolia sibi traderentur, fide sua prius inter- 
 posita, se in illius curiae sententia acquieturos; quodque 
 eadem curia, quo lis ilia ad exitum perduceretur, cum 
 pro more scripsisset ad raagistratusjudicesque Venetos, 
 literas, quibus petebant uti Joannem Piattum (Veneta 
 sub ditione digentem, qui cavearum ilium sibi vendi- 
 cat) citarent quo re per procuratorem in ammiralatus 
 curia Anglica se sisleret, ubi lis ista pendet, jusque 
 suum probaret, tamen idem Piattus, et quidam David 
 Rutts Hollandus, dum causa haec in nostro hie foro 
 
 pendet, multum supradicto Joanni Dickons, aliisque 
 illis mercatoribus de cavearo isthoc negotium facessit ; 
 eorumque bona et facultates nexu occupandas Venetiis 
 curat: quae omnia singulatim, et quid hactenus in 
 predicta nostra curia sit actum in literis illis requisito. 
 riis fusiiis exponitur; quas postquam a nobis inspectse 
 essent, ad serenissimam Venetiarum rempub. ut mer- 
 catoribus in hac causa adjumento esse possint, trans- 
 mittendas censuimus ; atque ab ea vehementer peti- 
 mus, ut non solum illae literoe vim suam atque pondus 
 illic habere queant, sed etiam ut bona ilia et facilitates 
 mercatorum, quas prsedictus Piattus et David Rutts 
 nexa illigandas curarunt, liberentur ; dictique rei ad 
 nostram hie curiam remittantur, quid sui sit juris in 
 hoc cavearo sibi vendicando lege experturi. Qua in 
 re celsitudo vestra et serenissima respub. feceritet quod 
 sequissiraum in se est, et quod illibata utriusque reipub. 
 amicitia est dignum, quod denique, oblata quavis oc- 
 casione, pari hujus reipub. benevolentia atque officiis 
 compensabitur. 
 
 Datis ab Alba Aula, die Feb. 1652. 
 
 Stlbscripsit et Concilii Sigillum imprimendum 
 curavit, Consilii Praeses. 
 
 Ad legatum Hispanicum. 
 
 Excellentissime Domine, 
 
 Concilium Status cum ex mandato parlamenti secun- 
 do die mensis Martii accepto de charta excellentiae ves- 
 trte 17 Feb. conimissariis hujus concilii exhibitadelibe- 
 rationem seriam habuerit, in qua excellentiae vestrse 
 visum est, proponere uti duobus capitibus illis noniinatis 
 quasi praeviis responderetur, responsum hoc excellentiae 
 vestrae reddendum censet. 
 
 Parlamentum, ubi ad ea respondit, quae ab excellentia 
 vestra cum primum audiretur proposita sunt, turn etiam 
 in iis literis quas ad Serenissinium Hispaniarum Regem 
 scripsit, quam sibi grata quamque accepta ilia fuerit 
 amicitia, ususque mutuus qui et ab illius regia majes- 
 tate et a vobis ejus nomine oblatus est, quam denique 
 deliberatum sibi fuerit, parem amicitiam quod ad se at- 
 tinet, pariaque officia reddere uberius declaravit. 
 
 Exiude visum vestrae excellentiae, cum primum au- 
 dita in concilio est Decembris 19 styli veteris, huic 
 concilio proponere, veluti rationem quandam auspican- 
 dae arctioris hujus amicitiae, cujus facta turn a vobis 
 mentio erat, uti certi ex suo corpore nominarentur, qui 
 ea quae attulisset excellentia vestra audirent, iis per- 
 pensis de eorum utilitate ad concilium referre quam 
 primum possint, cuivestro postulate utsatisfieret certos 
 ex suo numero concilium nominavit, qui excellentiara 
 vestram convenirent, quodetproinde factum est eorum- 
 que loco quae proponenda expectabantur, cbartam illam 
 supradictam congressio ea protulit, ad quam responsum 
 hoc concilii est. 
 
 Cum parlamentum ea declaraverit, vestraque excel- 
 lentia progressum eum fecerit qui supradictus est, para- 
 tos nos esse, cum excellentia vestra in colloquium venire 
 iis de rebus, quas domini regis vestri nomine proposue- 
 ritis, tam de amicitia jam pridem inita, quam de arctiore 
 ineunda, aut si quid a nobis hujus reipub. nomine in 
 
784 
 
 LITEKE SENATUS ANGLTCANI. 
 
 medium proferetur ; cumqiie ad sing'ula ventum erit, 
 ita respondebimus, ut par est, naturuque rci postulubit. 
 Alba Aula, Martii 12, 1663. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipuh. Anglij;, serenissimo Principi 
 Frkderico Tertio Dania Regi, ifc. Salutem. 
 
 Serenissime et potentissimc Rex ; 
 LiTERAS vestrae inajestatis, undevig'csiino proximi 
 Decetnbris ad parlaroenliim reipub. Ang^Iise ab arce 
 reg^a Haphnise datas, per virum nubilem Henricutn 
 Willetnsen Rosen wiiior do liysacker accepimiis, eoque 
 animi afTectu. quera res illic propositee mercntur, liben- 
 tissimd perle^mus, vestrseque majestati persuasum hoc 
 esse cupiinus,eundem atiimiim,eadein reteris amicitite, 
 commercii, ac necessitudinis, qnee Angliee cum Dania 
 per tot annos intercessit, continuandoe et conserrandje 
 studia, quae in majestate vestra sunt, in nobis qiioque 
 esse ; baud nescientes, quamvis divinee Providentite 
 visum sit, gentem banc tarn benigne et placid^ respici- 
 enti receptam apud nos prioris regiminis formam in 
 melius mutare, casdem tamen utrinque rationes, eadem 
 in commune commoda, eundem mutuu usum atque 
 liberum commercium, quoe pactiones priores et foedera 
 inter utramque nationem pepererunt, etiamnum du- 
 rare vimque priorem oblinere, utrasque etiara obligare, 
 ut comrauneni dent operam, fredera ilia quam utilissima 
 sibi mutuo reddendo, ut amicitiam quoque propriorem 
 acstabiliorem indies reddant; cumque vestree majestati 
 placuerit ea persequi consilia, quae in literis vestris 
 regiis scripta sunt, parlamentum eadem amplecti cum 
 alacritate omni ac fide paratum erit, eaque omnia pro 
 virili sua parte conferre, quae ilium ad finem conducere 
 arbitrabuntur ; sibique persuadent, majestatem vestram 
 hac de causa, ea itidem consilia capturum esse ad bane 
 reropub. spectantia (cui etiam provisum pactis priori- 
 bus est) qusE ad basce res faccre possint ab majestate 
 vestra nobis tam cupientibus propositas. Parlamentum 
 interea majestati vestrce ac populo foelicitatem prospera 
 que omnia precatur. 
 Datit Westmonofterio, die April. An. Dom. 1652. 
 Sub Sigillo Parlamenti subscripsit ejus 
 nomine atque autboritate Prolocutor 
 Parlamenti Reipub. Anglias. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Ancli* illuxtribut et magnificis 
 Hanseaticarum Civitatum Proconsulihu ac Sena- 
 toribut, Salutem. 
 
 Amplissimi, magnifici, et spectabiles Viri, 
 Amici charissimi ; 
 Parlamentum Reipubl. Angliae literasvcstras sexto 
 decirao Januarii proximo elapsi datas, perque vestrum 
 publicum ministrum Leonem ab Aisema allatas, accepit 
 atque perlegit, eumque ex earum autboritate audivit, 
 qui et Testrarum civitatum erga banc rempub. propen- 
 sum et amicum animum exposuit, et antiqua ilia inter 
 eaidem amicitia ut porro maneat petivit Parlamen- 
 tum itaque pro se testatur atque confirmat pergratum 
 Moi ea»f, pristinam illam amicitiam ac necessitudinem, 
 quoe huic gcnti cum illis ciritatibus intercessit, et re- 
 
 
 novari ratamque permanere, sequc fore paratum qui 
 vis occasione commodiim oblata quod verbis in i 
 recipit id reipsa solide prestare, cadcmque fide et ii 
 tegritatc antiqui illi amici et focderati sui ut secui 
 agant expectat: quae autcm prteterea residens vest 
 spcciatim in mandatis habuit, cum ea ad conciliu] 
 status integra a nobis reniissa fucrint, quteque prop< 
 suisset ibidem consultata, responsiim illic atque tran: 
 actum cum co ita fuit, prout quidque maxime cui 
 eequalitate et ratione consentire visum est, quod i 
 residens vester renunciare ad vos poterit : cujus pru 
 dentia et spectata probitas collata in eum a vobis pub 
 lici muneris nota dignum prsedicat. 
 
 Datis Westmonast. die April. An. Dom. 1652. 
 
 Sub Sigillo Parlamenti subscripsit, ejusqu 
 
 nomine et autboritate, Prolocutor Parla 
 
 menti Reipub. Augliae. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Anglic illustri et magnijiet 
 Civitatis Hamburoensis Senatui, Salutem. 
 
 Amplissimi, magnifici, et spectabiles Viri, 
 Amici charissimi ; 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Angliae literas vestras quintfl 
 decimo Januarii proxime elapsi Hamburgo datas, per 
 que nobilem virum Dominum Leonem ab Aisemi 
 vestrum et caeterarum civitatum Hanseaticarum resi- 
 dentem allatas, accepit atijuc perlegit, eumque ej 
 earum autboritate audivit, et qua; amplius ab vestra 
 civitate mandata speciatim habuit, de iis ad concilium 
 status remisit, quibus ut exciperent quae ab eo propo- 
 nerentur, deque iis quae justa et c«qua viderentur, cum 
 eo quam primum transigerent, authores fuimus; quod 
 etiam exinde factum est. Utque parlamentum earum 
 rerum quoe k vobis afferentut- debitam rationem sem- 
 per se esse habiturum ostendit, suumque erga vestram 
 civitatem singulare studium, misso illuc residente suo, 
 ibique manere jusso, testatum reddidit; ita vicissini 
 expectat, et merito quidem postulat, a vobis requa reddi 
 iis in rebus quse hujus reipub. ex usu, ab suo dicto 
 residente suoque nomine vestrse civitati, antiquitiis 
 amicee nobis et foederatae, vel jam exposita vel in pos- 
 terum exponenda erunt. 
 
 Westmonasterio, dat. die April. An. Dom. 1652. 
 
 Sub Sigillo Parlamenti subscripsit ejus no- 
 mine atque autiioritate Prolocutor Parla- 
 menti Reipub. Anglias. 
 
 Concilium Status Reipublica; Angli.i Serenisxi/no 
 Principi D. Ferdinanuo Secundo Magna Duel 
 HETRURiiE, Salutem. 
 
 Concilium Sutus cum a Carolo I/)nglando, qui 
 in portu celsitudinis vestrte Liburnensi mercatorum 
 Anglicorum negotia procurat, certius per literas fie- 
 rot, quatuordecim naves prtesidiarias Foedcratorum 
 Belgarum in eum portum nuper venisse, qui naves 
 Anglorum in ipso portu vestro aut incensuros sc esse 
 aut depressuros minati palum sunt, vestramque sere- 
 nitatem, cujus fidem atque opem Anglise merca- 
 torcs ibi commo.antes imploraverant, Libumiensis 
 
LITERS SENATUS ANGLTCANI. 
 
 *85 
 
 piipsidii proefecto mandasse, uti illis Ang'lorum iia- 
 vibus auxilio esset,'sui muneris atque officii judicavit 
 esse, uti celsitudinem vestram certiorem faceret, 
 quam liuic reipublicae gratissima sit benevolentia ilia 
 atque tutela, quam mercatoribus Anglis tani beni;fne 
 pnebuistis, vestroeque celsitudini promittit atque in 
 se recipit inansuram apud se in omne tempus hu- 
 jus bene meriti gratiam, paraturaque se omni occa- 
 sione fore parem amicitiam pariaque officia vestro 
 populo reipsa priestare, omniaque facere, quae conser- 
 vandue inter banc gentem atque vestram solitce benevo- 
 lentiie, atque commercio possint conducere. Cumque 
 naves Foederatarum Belgii Provinciarum inter ipsa de 
 fcedere colloquia a semetipsis oblata in classem nostrara 
 summa cum pcrfidia non solum in ipsis stationibus 
 hostilia inceptaverint (quoin facinore DEUS, tanquam 
 arbiter justissimus, adversum se illis atque infensum 
 ostendit) veriim etiam in exterorum portubus naves 
 niercatorum nostrorum capere aut demergere conatce 
 sint, necessarium etiam censuimus scriptum hoc parla- 
 menti reipublicte Angliau ad celsitudinem vestram una 
 mittcre ; cujus emittendi occasionem dedere controver- 
 siac inter banc renipub. et Belgii provincias in pra>sen- 
 tia coortcG. Ex quo celsitudo vestra facile pcrspiciat, 
 quam iniqua, quam contra fas omne atque jus g'entium 
 facta illius populi in banc rempub. extiterint, et quam 
 ex animo parlamcntum studuerit, publicae pacis causa, 
 amicitiam corum et societatem pristinam retinuisse. 
 Datis ab Alba Aula, Julii 29, 1652. 
 
 Subscripsit Concilii Nomine atque Authoritate 
 Concilii Praeses. 
 
 Ad Legatum Hispanicum. 
 
 Excellentissime Domine, 
 Concilium Status, deliberatione liabita de ilia char- 
 tula quam ^ j„"'/,; 1652, ab excellentia vestra acccpit, 
 turn etiam de ilia quam in concilio status cum audiretur 
 TB- hujus mcnsis vestra exhibuit excellentia, ad binas 
 illas cliartulas responsum hoc reddit : parlamentiim 
 reipubl. Anglire firmam amicitiam bonamquc pacem, 
 quffihuie repub. est cum Hispaniarum regiamajestate, 
 conservandi percupidum, ex quo idem primum regis 
 proedicti animum eodem inclinare excellentia vestra 
 significavit, paratum semper fuisse eam utriusque gen- 
 tis bono quam maxime firmare ac stabilire. Idque 
 concilium status parlamenti nomine atque mandato 
 suis chartulis aliquoties excellentise vestrse demonstra- 
 vit; et speciatim, prout excellentia vestra petiverat, 
 commissarios delegit, quae et excellentiam vestram 
 convenirent, ab eaque acciperent, quse ad predictum 
 finem conducentia proponerentur ; quo in conventu 
 eorutn loco ])roponendorum visum est nobis generatim 
 quaedam, quasi futuro ])raevia colloquio, exhibere, de 
 quibus concilio videbatur, parlamentum qui suus esset 
 sensus chartis prioribus planum fecisse : tamen quo 
 cumulatius satisfieret, utque excellentise vestroe nequa 
 dubitatio restaret iis de rebus quae turn proposuerat, 
 concilium in ea chartula quse li j/r7/,>, data est, paratum 
 se esse ostendit cum excellentia vestra in colloquium 
 venire iis de rebus quse a parte regice majestatis prae- 
 
 dictee in mandatis haberct, tarn de pristina amicitia 
 quam de actione futura, de iis etiam quee a nobis hujus 
 reipub. nomine exhiberentur; cumque ad singula veni- 
 retur ea, qua? par esset, resque postularet, responsa 
 dare: ad qute visum est excellentiae vestrae nihilum 
 respondere neque per duos pene menses in ea re ulterius 
 progredi. Vestramque chartulam %jinit', 1652, datam 
 concilium ex eo tempore primam ab excellentia vestra 
 accepit, in eaque hoc solum proponitis, uti pacis atque 
 foederis articuli inter Carolum regem nuperum ves- 
 trumque Dominura -^ Novembris 1630, pacti denuo 
 percurrantur, utque ejus capita quaeque vcl amplifi- 
 centur vel immutenter pro temporum et rerum alio 
 nunc statu, necnon regendae reipublicae forma immu- 
 tata, quod cum nihil araplius esset, quam quod et nos 
 in pnedicta nostra chartula io jiprliis summalim atque 
 dilucidc significavcramus, expectabat concilium quos- 
 dam speciatim articulos ex eo foederc ab excellentia 
 vestra propositum iri, cum ea amplificatione, iisque 
 mutationibus, quaruni facitis mentionem, cum alioqui 
 nobis impossibile sit ullum aliud responsum hac de re 
 dare, quam quod jam dedimus. Veriim cum excel- 
 lentia vestra ex charta sua novissima dilationem in 
 nos conferre videatur, concilium idcirco chartulam ves- 
 tram prtedictam ^j„",|J datam, quodque in ea pro- 
 positum erat denuo inspexit, seque de eo quod illic 
 est propositum, prirtre ilia chartula excellentise vestrae 
 plene satisfecisse arbitratur, cui et hoc solum potest 
 adjicere, se, cum excellentiie vestrae videbitur, vel ex 
 foederibusjam factis vel alioquovismodocjusmodi ferre 
 conditiones, quoe ad proesentem rerum ac temporum 
 statum erunt accommodatae, quibus a parte vestra fun- 
 dari amicitiam vultis, ea vobis responsa exinde redditu- 
 rum, quae ab se ad ea reddi aequum crit, quseque parla- 
 mentum in eodem perseverare studio testcntur, illibatam 
 atque firmam cum rege vestro domino amicitiam con- 
 servandis. Eaque ut augescat etiam, parlamentum 
 omnem honestam seque dignam operam pro se quidem 
 dabit. 
 
 Concilium prtEterea sui officii ducit esse, excellen- 
 tiam vestram illius nostrte chartuloe Januarii 30, 1651, 
 ad vos datoe admoneri, cui cum excellentia vestra re- 
 sponsum nondum dederit, instaraus proinde atque ex- 
 pectamus, ut parlamento, de qua illic re facta mentio 
 est, satisfactio detur. 
 
 Responsum Concilii Stattis ad Replicationem Domi- 
 norum Leyatorum, Extraordinariorvm serenissimi 
 Regis Dam* et Norwegije, Commissariis Concilii 
 traditam, ad Responsum illud quod reddidit Conci- 
 lium ad quatuordecim eorum poitulationes. 
 
 Prsdictis Dominis Legatis ut satisfiat de responso 
 concilii ad quintum, sextum, septimum, octavum, et 
 nonum articulum, assentitur concilium huic sequenii 
 clausulae suo responsorum fine adjiciendae. Videlicet, 
 praeter illas colonias, insulas, portus et loca in partis 
 alterutrius ditione, ad quae loca ne quis negotiandi aut 
 commercii habendi causa accedat, lege cautum est, nisi 
 impetrata prius ejus partis licentia speciali, ad quam 
 ilia colonia, insula, portus, aut loca pertinuerint. 
 
786 
 
 LITERiE SENATUS ANGLICAiNI. 
 
 Receptio cujusquam in navem qate in fliimina, portus, 
 nut sinus altcrutrius partis compulsa crit navem illam 
 ulli cxhibendte molestite aut perscrutationi ex response 
 concilii ad articulum undecimum obnoxiam non faciet, 
 quern ad mod urn praedicti domini leg'ati in replicationc 
 sua videutur intellexisse, praeterquam ubi ilia receptio 
 contra le<res, statuta, aut morem illius loci est, in quo 
 ilia navis portum capesserit, qua in re videtur concilio 
 nihil statui quod durius sit, sed quod utriusque reipub. 
 saluti sit aeqiie conducibile. 
 
 Quod ad probandum cujusnam propria naves et bona 
 ilia erunt, quse in naufrag-io ejici acciderint, concilium 
 existimat iiecesse esse jusjurandum dari in illis curiis, 
 quse ad bujusmodi causas aut jam sunt constitutae aut 
 erunt constituendae, ubi qua ilia sibi vendicant audiri 
 sin^uli possint, et cujusque jus co«^nosci ac dijudicari, 
 quod scriptis testimoniis, quoe vulgo " certificata" 
 nuncupantur, tam clare atque distincte fieri non potest, 
 unde multi scrupuli ac dubitationes existere poterunt, 
 multae etiam fraudes ac doli in illud genus probationis 
 irrepere, quod ne eveniat utriusque partis interest pro- 
 videre. Concilium etiam aequuni esse arbitratur, definiri 
 certum tempus, ante quod tempus qui justum earum 
 rerum dominum se esse non probaverit, excludetur ad 
 evitandas sine fine lites. Quod autcm ad modum venun- 
 dandi ea bona quee ejecta in naufragio facile corrum- 
 puntur, visum est concilio eum modum proponere qui 
 ad lucemam dicitur, utqui sit modus maxime probabilis 
 verum bonorum pretium eliciendi ad dominorum emo- 
 Inmentum ; tamen si praedicti domini legati inventam 
 aliam rationem attulerint quae huic fini niagis condu- 
 cere videbitur, per concilium non stabit quo minus id 
 fiat quod tequum erit: neque intelligitur ob banc rem 
 liuic tractationi moram afferendi occasio ullapraebeatur. 
 
 Quod autem ad eorum supplicium qui propositum 
 foedus ruperint, concilium id adjecit, cujus in responso 
 suo ad articulum qnartum decimum fit mentio ad majo- 
 rem ejus articuli efficaciam, ipsumque foedus eo firmius 
 atque diuturnius reddendum. 
 
 Ad clausulam articuli quarti decimi extremam quod 
 attinet respondere, nun expedire censemus illis foede- 
 ribus ac societatibus, quarum in prsedictis responsis 
 facta est mentio, queeque generatim duntaxat propo- 
 nuntur assensum nostrum exhibere antequam quales 
 ilhe sint, exploratius nobis fuerit, de quibus cum ex- 
 cellentiis vestris visum erit concilium certius facere, re- 
 sponsum expressius ad id reddere poterimus. 
 
 Rcplicatio Concilii Status ad responsum pradictorum 
 Dominorum Legatorvm quod ad senos articulos a 
 pradicto Concilio nomine Reipub. ANOLiiE exhibitos 
 est redditum. 
 
 Concilium, inspectis praedictorum dominorum lega- 
 torum diplomatis quibus collata in eos potestas est trans- 
 igendi cum parlamento aut ejus commissariis de iis 
 omnibus quae transigi expediverit, foederaque vetusta 
 renovandi novaque jungendi, existimabat quidem prsc- 
 dictos dominos legatos ea authoritate esse praeditos, ut 
 et respousa dare possent, et omnia transigere, tam quce 
 a parte hujus reipub. quam quae a parte Regis Dania: 
 
 et Norwegite ferrentur, adcoquc responsa quop pra>dictii 
 dominis Icgatis ad priniam, secundam, tertiuni ct quin-- 
 tam concilii postulationem dare libuit baud expectaba' 
 quo factum erit, ut huic praesenti tractationi necessari 
 more afTeratur, cum et in se eequissimum sit, et in con- 
 cilio deliberatum, foedus integrum tractando simtil 
 complccti tam de iis quoe ad banc rempublicam quam 
 quae ad regna Daniae et Norwegiee spectant. Qua- 
 propter concilium enixe fiagitat, ut excelleutite vestrai 
 respondere ad predictum nostrum primum, secundum, 
 tertium, et quintum postulatum velint. 
 
 Ad quartum articulum de portoriis Gluckstadii cum 
 ea jam antiquata sint, quemadmodum excellentiae 
 vestrtE in responso meminerunt, instat concilium uti 
 eorum ilia antiquatio etiam per hoc foedus rata babea- 
 tur, ne forte in posterum revocentur. 
 
 Quod ad sextum articulum, qui de pyratica est, eum 
 quidem inseruit concilium ut qui ad utriusque com- 
 moda sequd pertineret, et ad commercium in commune 
 stabiliendum, quod a pyratis atque praedonibns per- 
 quam turbatur atque interrumpitur ; cumque responsum 
 dominorum legatorum de hoc articulo ad hostcs tan- 
 tum referatur, mentionem piratarum nullam faciat, 
 concilium idcirco expressius responsum ad id petit. 
 
 Cumque praedicti domini legati in sua replicationc 
 ad responsum concilii et decimum suum articulum, ct 
 ad eum concilii responsum praetermiserint, concilio ne- 
 cessarium visum est prioribus suis postulatis sequentem 
 hunc articulum adjungere. 
 
 Populum et incolas reipub. Angliae, qui negotia aut 
 commercium per ulla regna, regiones, aut ditionem 
 Regis Danise et Norwegiae habuerint portorii, tributi, 
 census, vectigalis aut stipendii cujusvis plus in poste- 
 rum non solvere aut alio quovis modo atque populus 
 foederatarum Belgii Provinciarura, aliave queevis na- 
 tio externa minimum illic solvens raercaturamque fa- 
 ciens, si solvit aut solutura est, parique frui et aequ6 
 ampla libertate pvivilegiis et immunitatibus, cum in 
 advcntu, tum in reditu, et quamdiu illic commorabun- 
 tur, in piscatu etiam, mercatura, atque alio quocunque 
 modo, quo ullius exterae gentis populus in prtedictis 
 regnis totaque ditione dicti Regis Danice et Norwegia; 
 fruitur aut frui queat ; quibus itidem privilegiis popu- 
 lares Regis Daniae et Norwegirc per omnes provincias 
 ac ditionem Reipublicoe Anglioe pariter fruentur. 
 
 Concilium Status Reipub. Angli* serenissimo Prin- 
 cipi Domino Ferdinando Secxmdo, Magno Duci 
 Hetruri£, Salutem. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps, Amice Charissime, 
 Consilium Status, cognito tam per oratorem celsitu- 
 dinis vestrce hie commorantem, quam per Carolum 
 Longlandum mercatorum Anglicorum negotia Liburni 
 procurantem, quanta cum benevolcntia ac fide celsitudo 
 vestra naviura Anglicarum in Libuniicnscm portum se 
 recipientium tutelam susceperit, contra Bclgarum naves 
 prtcdatorias exitium illis atque direptionem minitantos, 
 literis undetrigcsimo Julii datas (quas ad celsitudineni 
 vcstram, jamdudum pervenisse sperat) significavit 
 quam id sibi gratum acceptumque accidisset, codei 
 
 1 
 
LITERiK SENATUS ANGLICANI. 
 
 r87 
 
 (jue tempore scriptuni parlamenti reipublicae Ano-lice tie 
 coiilrovcrsiis inter banc rempublicam et Fcederatas 
 Belf^ii Provincias in prtesentia exortis ad serenitatem 
 vestram una misit. Cunique rursus per eundem Caro- 
 lum Longlandum concilium intellexerit, quae ulterius 
 mandata dederit celsitudo vestra de incolumitate atque 
 tutela navibus Anglicis prsEstanda, etiam Belgis, ne id 
 fieret, importun^ contra nitentibus, ne banc quidera oc- 
 casionem prsetereundam esse censuit, significandi rur- 
 sus cclsitudini vestrae se vestram justitiam et singula- 
 rem in tutandis navibus suis constantiam cum plurimi 
 facere tum sibi etiam gratissimam habere. Quod cum 
 solids; amicitiae studiique vestri in banc rempub. baud 
 leve indicium sit, persuadere sibi poterit celsitudo ves- 
 tra paria officia atque studia in nobis erga vestram pel- 
 situdinem nunquam sc esse desideraturam. Qureque 
 declarare possint quam nobis deliberatum sit eam ami- 
 citiam, quae huic reipub. cum vestra serenitate est, 
 quam constantissime atque diutissime pro virili nostra 
 parte conservare. Nos interim navibus nostris omni- 
 bus, qute vestros portusintraverint, disertis verbis man- 
 davimus, ut salutationes explosione tormentorum con- 
 suetas, omnemque bonorem debitum vestree cclsitudini 
 exhibere meminerint. 
 
 Dads Alba Aula, Septemh. 1652. 
 
 Et concilii sigillo deinde consignandissubscripsit 
 
 Concilii Prseses. 
 
 Ad Legatum Hispanicum Alphonsum de Cardenas. 
 
 Excellentissime Domine, 
 
 IjITEr* excellentiae vestrae tV Novembris 1652 date, 
 €t a secretario vestro Novembris 8 redditae, una cum 
 duobus libcllis supplicibus simul involutis, in concilio 
 recitatee sunt de jiavibus nimirum Samsone et San 
 Salvadore vulgo nominatis; ad quas concilium respon- 
 sum hoc reddit: navem Anglicam preesidiariam, cum 
 in praedictas naves non in Dunis, ut scribit excellentia 
 vestra, sed in alto incidisset, tanquam hostium navem 
 pricdie babitam in portum adduxisse; curiamque Am- 
 miralatus, ad quam propricdecausis hujusmodi attinet 
 cognoscere, illius causte cognitionem pro jure sibi 
 sumpsisse ; ubi singuli partis utriusque quorum id 
 interest ampliter et libere audientur, jusque suum 
 qnisque obtinebit : vestroe porro excellentise rogatura 
 ad illius curia; judices misimus, quo certiiis intelliga- 
 mus qiiousque iis de navibus in judicio processerint. 
 Quod simul ac nobis compertum erit, ea dari mandata 
 hac de re curabimus, quse et aequum erit, eteadignum 
 amicitia, quae huic reipublicae cum rege vestro inter- 
 codit, nee minus confidimus, regiam ejus majestatem 
 niinime passurura esse, bujus reipublicae hostium bona 
 sub nomine ejus subjectorum elabi aut delitescere. 
 
 Subscripsit et concilii sigillum apponendum curavit 
 Gulielmus Masbam, Concilii Prseses. 
 Datis ah Alba Aula, 11 Novemb. an. Dom. 1652. 
 
 Legato Hispaniensi. 
 Excellentissime Domine, 
 Allatum nuperad concilium est ab navarcho nostro 
 Bodileo navium hujus reipublicae ad Gaditanum mare 
 3 E 
 
 proefecto, se cum tribus aliis navibus praesidiariis post- 
 quam undecim Belgicarum impetum continuato bidui 
 certaraine sustinuisset, ad portum Longonem vulgo 
 dictum ad sarcienda qucedam in eo prajlio accepta 
 incommoda, easque res comparandas quae sibi ad pug- 
 nam opus essent, in portum Longonem vulgo dictum 
 se recepisse, ubi ejus loci pnefectus in eum cseterasque 
 sub ejus ductu naves omnia et justissimi et humanis- 
 simi simul viri ofiicia implevit; cumquc is locus in 
 ditione serenissimi regis Hispaniarura sit, concilium 
 cert^ singularem presidii illius bumanitatem rcipsa 
 cognitam arctioris aniicitise mutuae tarn auspicatu 
 cceptee fructum uberem esse existimat ; suique adeo 
 ofHcii ducit esse, ob accept um tarn opportuno benofi- 
 cium ejus majestati gratias agere, vestramque rogat 
 excellentiani, ut hoc regi suo serenissimo velit prinio 
 quoque tempore significare, eique persuasum reddere, 
 parlamentum reipub. Angline paratum semper fore, 
 paria amicitiee atque huraauitatis officia oblata quavis 
 occasione referre. 
 
 Dat. Westmonasterio, 11 Nov. An. Dom. 1652. 
 
 Subscripsit et concilii sigillum apponendum curavit 
 Gulielmus Masham, Concilii Praeses. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Ancli«, Serenissimo Principi 
 D. Ferdinando Secundo, Magno Duci Hetruri-«, 
 Salutem. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps, Amice Charissime, 
 
 Parlamentum reipub. Angliae literas vestrje celsi- 
 tudinis Augusti septimo dccimo, Florentia datas, acce- 
 pit : in quivus de restitutione navis cujusdam agitur 
 oryza onustae, quae navis a capitaneo Cardio Liber- 
 niensi vendicatur. Et quamvis in nostra ammiralatus 
 curia contra prcdictum Cardium in ea causa sententia 
 judicum lata jam sit, et apud delegates 'pro vocatio 
 tum penderet, tamen cum hoc celsitudo vestra petal, 
 parlamentum, quo tam amici principis benevolentiam 
 ac necessitudinem quanti faciat testificari possit, man- 
 davit quibus curae ea res est, ut navis ilia cum orjza, 
 vel saltern ejus justum pretium preedicto capitaneo Car- 
 dio reddatur; cujus mandati fructum procurator ejus 
 apud nos re ipsa jam percepit. Et quemadmodum cel- 
 situdo vestra, suum navibus Anglorum in portu Libur- 
 niensi patrocinium atque tutelam benign^ praebendo, 
 parlamentum sibi magnopere devinxit (cujus rei gestae 
 narratio tam ab oratore hie vestro, quam a Carole 
 Longlaud mercatorum nostrorum illic procuratore, de- 
 lata nuper ad nos est) ita parlamentum summo vicissim 
 studio dabit operam, quotiescunque occasio dabitur, ut 
 sua omnia sincerte amicitite atque benevolentiae officia 
 in celsitudinem vestram solide constare possint; quam 
 adeo divinoe benignitati atque tutelse commendatissi- 
 mam vult esse. 
 
 Datis Westmonasterio, die Novemb. 1652. 
 
 Subscripsit et sigillum reipub. apponendum curavit 
 Prolocutor Parlamenti Reipub. Anglia?. 
 
788 
 
 LITERiE SENATUS ANGLICANI. 
 
 Parlamentvm Reipub. Anolix Serenissimo et Poten- 
 tissimo Principi Danije Regi, ffc. 
 
 Scrcnissime et Potentissimc Rex, 
 Parlamentum reipublicsR Anglioe postquam accepit 
 ab illiup classis preefecto quae nuper ad Hafniam majcs- 
 tatis vestrae portum missa est, ut navibus mercatorum 
 nostrorum inde rcdeuntibus domum prsesidio csset; 
 praedictis navibus permissuni non esse secum discedcre ; 
 verum illic majestatis vestrte jussu retineri; productis 
 etiatn ab eo litcris regis vestram ea in re sententiam 
 declarantibus, nepi'at explicatas in iis literis rationes 
 cur naves illee retineantiir ulla in parte sibi satisfacere : 
 ut isfitiir in re tanti plan^ momenti, quaeque ad pros- 
 pernm utriiisquc gentis statum tantopere conducit, 
 sequutiiro fortasse majori cuipiam incommodo maturius 
 occurratiir, misit parlamentum virum illustrissimum et 
 spectatte fidei Richard um Bradshaw armigerum, Ham- 
 burg! oratorem, qui itidem ad majestatem vestram ora- 
 toris munus impleat, cum iis diserte mandatis, ut de 
 prsedicto negotio agat: vestramque adeo rogamus ma- 
 jestatem eidem velit viro et aurem benignam et fidem 
 amplam perhibere, quicquid super hoc negotio vestrse 
 majestati nostro nomine proposuerit : quam nos divinse 
 tutelte et providentite commendatam volumus. 
 
 Datis Westmonasterio, 6 die Novemb. an. Dom. 1652. 
 Sub sigillo parlamenti ej usque nomine atque au- 
 
 thoritate subscripsit Prolocutor Parlamenti Rei- 
 
 publicoe Angliffi. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Anglis Serenissimo Principi 
 Venetiarum Duct, Salutem. 
 
 Parlamemtum reipublicse Angliae literas celsitudinis 
 vestrtB, prime Junii 1652 datas, per Laurentium Palu- 
 tium accepit, ex quibus cum et vestrum, et senatus 
 propensum in banc rempublicam animum prospiciat, 
 occasionem banc suum vicissim erga serenissimam 
 rempublicam Venetam singulare studium ac benevo- 
 lentiam declarandi, libenter arripuit, quara et re ipsa 
 idque ex animo, demonstrare quoties usus venerit, 
 haudquaquam gravabitur, cui et omnes vel conser- 
 vandae vel etiam augendae amicitiee ususque mutui ra- 
 tiones in medium allatae erunt itidem acceptissimae, 
 vestrseque adeo celsitudini et Reipublicoe Serenissimae 
 fausta omnia ac prospera exoptat atque precatur. 
 
 Datis Westmonasterio, die Decemb. an. Dom. 1652. 
 Subscripsit et parlamenti sigillum imponendum 
 curavit Prolocutor Parlamenti Reipub. Angliae. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Angli* Serenissimo Principi 
 Ferdinando Secvndoy Hetrurix Magno Duci, Sa- 
 lutem. 
 
 Cum parlamentum reipub. Angliae antehac suis na- 
 varcbiis atque priefectis navium ad loca sub vestroe 
 celsitudinis ditione appellentibus, etiam atque etiam 
 mandaverit, ut sc pacate atque modeste gererent, 
 eaque quk decet observantia erga principem sere- 
 nissimum, cujus beec respub. et conservare amici- 
 
 tiam tantopcr^ studeat, et tanlis bencficiis afTecta si' 
 prorsus inopinatum sibi quidem accidit, quod ii n 
 varcho Appletono in Liburniensi portu insolculi' 
 factum esse accepit ; eum nimiruni ab co vigili duni i 
 molcstationem ageret, vim attulissc, idque tum con-' 
 tra fidem atque obsequium huic rcipublicte ab eo debt- 
 tum, tum contra observantiam atque hunorcm qui ves- 
 tree celsitudini sua in ditione jure optimo debetur: quan: 
 rem totam sicuti gesta est, ex literis vestris 7 et 9 De- 
 cembris, Florentia datis, parlamentum intellexit; iibe- 
 rius etiam per spectatissimum virum Almericum Sal- 
 vettum, vestrum hie residentem ; atque vestrse celsitu-i 
 dinis honorem, qui hac in re agi videtur, usque adeO' 
 sibi commendatum habet, ut concilio status id negotii 
 dederit, uti literas navarcho Appletono quam primuim 
 scribendas curaret, quibus is terrestri itinere coufestini' 
 hue advolare juberetur, insoliti hujus facti et extraor- 
 dinarii rationem redditurus (quarum exemplum litcra- 
 rum his inclusum una mittitur) qui ubi advenerit eli 
 facti postulabitur, de eo id statutum iri pollicemur. 
 quod testificari possit se vestri juris violationem baud 
 minus moleste ferre, quam si ipsum jus suum violaretur. 
 Quinetiam de nave dicta Phoenice Liburni recuperata 
 consultatione habita, qute res a celsitudine vestra nee- 
 non ab oratore suo narratur atque urgetur, contra datam 
 a navarcho Appletono fidem fuisse, qua obstrictus erat 
 ne Hollandos intra conspectum portus aut lanterna? ado- 
 riretur, vestramque celsitudinem ea fiducia nixam, Hol- 
 landis fide data de incolumitate promisisse, debere 
 proinde eorum satisfactioni prospicere, quibus vestra^ 
 sub fide damnum datum est, parlamentum ab excellen-i 
 tia vestra petit, ut hoc sibi persuasum habeat, banc 
 rem, quemadmodum sine suo consilio aut mandato est 
 gesta, ita hoc etiam ab sua voluntate ac mente lon- 
 gissime abesse, ut celsitudo vestra ullo incommodo aul 
 honoris imminutione ex illo facto afficiatur : quin imc 
 se operam daturum, ut vobis satisfaciendi aliqua ratio 
 ineatur, prout sibi qusestione habita de re tota consti- 
 terit : quam ut plenius intelligere possit, ipsum navar- 
 chura Appletonum ab se audiri necessarium esse judi- 
 cat ; qui et eadem fide obstrictus erat, et ab excel- 
 lentia vestra creditur, ejusdem violationi salt^m assen- 
 sisse ; prsesertirn cum is tam brevi sit ad nos reversu- 
 rus, atque ilium postquam parlamentum audiverit, 
 et cum dicto oratore vestro rationes amplius contulerit, 
 hac de re baud exigui sane momenti, cam sententiam 
 feret, qute et aequa erit, summaeque benevolentiac qua 
 celsitudinem vestram prosequitur consentanea, collatis 
 denique a vobis in se beneficiis baud indigna. De qua 
 ne interim dubitaret celsitudo vestra, literis per eundem 
 bunc tabellanum statim missis certiorem factam primo 
 quoque tempore volebat ; seque nullarn occasionem 
 esse praetermissurum, qua possit re ipsa testari, vestram 
 amicitiam quanti faciat. 
 
 Datis Westmonasterio, 14 die Decembris, 
 an. Dom. 1652. 
 
 Subscripsit ct parlamenti sigillum imprimendum 
 curavit, Prolocutor Parlamenti Reipub. AngliiB. 
 
LITERiE SENATUS ANGLICANI. 
 
 789 
 
 Concilium Status Reip. Anglicans Serenissimo Prin- 
 eipi Frederico, Hcsredi Norwegiee, Duci Slesvici, 
 Hohatice, Starmatiee, Ditmarsia, Comiti in Olden- 
 hurgh et Delmenhorst, Salutem. 
 
 QuANQUAM sapientissimo Deo visum est rerum om- 
 nium moderatori clementissimo, praeter illud onus quod 
 j nobis cum majoribus nostris commune imposuit, ut pro 
 ; libertate nostra contra tyrannos honestissima bella gere- 
 remus, iis nos etiam auspiciis eaque divina ope prse illis 
 insigniter adjuvare, ut non solum civile helium restrin- 
 guere,sed ctcausasejusin futurumpraBcidere,necnon et 
 hostium externorum inopinatos impetus propulsare va- 
 luerimus, eundem tamen supremi numinis in nos favo- 
 rem ac benignitatem gratissimis quantum possumus 
 animis agnoscentes, non ita rerum nostrarum successi- 
 bus efferimur, ut non singularem potiiis Dei justitiam 
 ac providentiara edocti, atque nosmet largiter experti, 
 et bellum orane quantum licet aversemur, et pacem 
 cum omnibus cupidissim6 amplectamur. Quemadmo- 
 dum igitur quae aniicitia quteque foederum jura nobis 
 cum populis quibuscunque ac principibus antiqua in- 
 tercessere, ea hacteniis cuiquam nee violaviraus priores, 
 nee violata voluimus, ita et celsitudo vestra, pro vetusta 
 sua cum Anglis et a majoribus accepta amicitia, pote- 
 nt certissinia aninii persuasione de nobis eequa omnia 
 atque arnica, et sibi et suis polliceri. Denique ut de- 
 lata a celsitudine vestra nobis sua studia atque ofRcia 
 plurimi ut par est facimus, ita operant dabimus ut ne- 
 que nostra ullo tempore vel sibi vel suis deesse sentiat: 
 vestramque adeo celsitudinem omnipotentiaB numini- 
 que Dei omnipotentis quam maxime commeudatam 
 cupimus. 
 Datis in Alba Aula, die Julii, an. 1653. 
 Subscripsit et consilii sigillum imprimendum curavit, 
 
 CoDcilii Praeses. 
 
 Comiti Olden BURGico. 
 
 Illustrissimc Domine, 
 Parlamentum reipub. AngliiB plurimam salutem ab 
 amplitudine vestra officiosissime atque humanissime 
 sibi dictam, per Hermannum Mylium, jurisconsultum 
 deputatum et consiliarium vestrum accepit : qui et fausta 
 omnia parlamento reique Anglicae, vestro nomine pre- 
 catus est, et hujus reipub. amicitiam utvobis sartatecta 
 permaneret simul expetivit : literas etiam liberi comme- 
 atus, quibus vestrse ditionis populus eo tutius negotia- 
 retur, navigaret, et commercia exerceret, nee non et 
 nostra ad publicos foris ministros mandata uti amplitu- 
 dini vestrte rebusque vestris, suis officiis atque consiliis 
 opitularentur, idem a nobis petivit. Nos et petitis 
 hisce libenter annuimus, et cum amicitiam, tum etiam 
 literas illas expetitas, illaque ad ministros publicos 
 mandata sub parlamenti sigillo concessimus. Et quan- 
 quam aliquot jam menses abieruiit, ex quo vester pub- 
 licus minister ad nos primum accessit, ea tamen dilatio 
 neque ex eo orta est, quo nos petitioni, amplitudinis 
 vestrae nomine facta;, assentiri gravaremur, neque quo 
 vester deputatus nos assidue sollicitare ullo tempore 
 
 desiiterit, (qui certe omnicum diligentia, ucc non offici- 
 osa simul instantia, ut conf'ecto negotio, compos voti 
 dimitteretur,quotidie nos efflagitavit,)verum ex eo solum 
 accidit, quod maxima quidem et gravissima reipub. 
 negotia, quoeque ad earn vehcmenter pertinere, aut agi- 
 tarentur per hoc totum fere tempus, aut transigerentur. 
 Qua de re dignitatem vestram illustriss. certionem faci- 
 endam esse censuimus, ut ne quis dilationem banc secus 
 intcrpretando, gravatim aut eegre impetratum hoc esse 
 existimet, quod a parlamento reipub. Angliae lihentis- 
 simd concessum est. Cujus nomine consignare haic 
 jussus est, 
 
 Henuicus Scobell, Clericus Parlam. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. Angli.!: Illnstribuset Amplissi- 
 tnis Consulibus, Scultetis, Laudam, et Senatoribus 
 Cantonum Helvetia Evangelicorum, Tigurini, Ber- 
 nensis, (i laronensis, Basileensis, Schaffusiensis, Ab~ 
 batiscellani, nee non ejusdem Religionis Confcedera- 
 tonim in Rhtftia, Geneva, Sanctogalli, Multutiiy et 
 Bienna, Amicis nostria charissimis, Salutem. 
 
 LtTERAS vestras, illustres domini atque amici cfaaris- 
 simi, Decembris 24, 1652, ad nos datas, accepimus, 
 omni humanitate, benevolentia, studioque erga nos 
 nostramque rempub. egregio refertas ; quodque nobis 
 semper majuset antiquius debet esse, charitatcm frater- 
 nam et ver^ christianam spirantes. Deoque imprimis 
 Optimo ma.ximo gratias agimus, qui vos totque vestras 
 civitates nobilissimas, non tarn illis montium claustris 
 quim insita vestra fortitudine, pietate, et prudentissima 
 eequissimaque rerum civilium adroinistratione, mutua 
 denique foederum fide circumvallatas atque munitas, 
 firmissimum universis orthodoxis presidium illis in locis 
 excitavit atque constituit : vos deinde, qui ])er omnem 
 Europam primi fere mortalium post invectas ab Aqui- 
 lone barbarorum regum tyrannidos, Deo vestram virtu- 
 tem prosperante, libertatem vobis peperistis, partam 
 baud minore prudentia ac moderatione, tot per annos 
 illibatam conservastis ; de nobis nostraque libertate 
 nuper vindicata tam praeclard sentire, tanique sinceros 
 evangelii cultores de nostro in orthodoxam fidem amore 
 ac studio, tam constanter persuader!, id quidem longe 
 nobis gratis-simum est. Quod autem ad pacem nos pie 
 sane et afTectu, ut nobis est persuasissimuni, vere chris- 
 tiano adhortamini, permagiium certe pondus apud nos 
 ea adhortatio habere debet; cum propter ipsam rem, 
 quam suadetis, maxime expetendam, turn propter sum- 
 mam etiam authoritatem, quae vobis prae caeteris hac in 
 parte merito tribuenda est, qui inter maxinios circum- 
 quaque bellorum tumultus, et ipsi summam pacem 
 domi forisque tamdiu colitis, et aliis omnibus pacis co- 
 lendse simul hortatoresetexemplum optimum extitistis; 
 cum id denique suadeatis, quod nos dedita opera, idque 
 baud semel, non tam nostris rationibus, quam univer- 
 soc rei evangelicae prospicientes, per legatos aliosque 
 publicos ministros petivimus, amicitiam nimiriim et 
 arctissimum foedus cum foedcratus Belgarum provinciis 
 feriendum. Veriim illi (sive ilia perpetuo nobis infesta, 
 regiis addicta partibus, tyrannidis et ipsa apud suos 
 affectjitce comperta Arausiana factio potiiis dicenda est) 
 
790 
 
 LITERjE senatus angucani. 
 
 qao pacto leg'atos nostros, noD de pace, sed de fratcrna 
 amicitia ac fondere arctissimo venientesacceperiiit, (]uas 
 postea belli causas praebiierint, ut iios, inter ipsa lejfa- 
 toruni suorum de foedere coUoquia, instructa classe ni- 
 hil tale cog^itantes, in ipsis naviuni stationibus nostris, 
 ultro lacesserint, ex illo a nobis ea de re publice scripto, 
 et nunc una cum hisce Uteris ad vos raisso, abunde in- 
 telligetis. Nos autem in id sedulo incunibiinus, Deo 
 bene juvante, quamvis re hacteniis tiim prosper^ g'esta, 
 ut nequc nostris quicquam viribusaut copiistribuamus, 
 sed uni omnia Deo, neque succcssibus insolent6r effe- 
 ramiir: eundemque aninium retincmus conficiendac 
 justPB atque honestse pacis omnes occasiones amplecti 
 paratissimum. Vos interim, illustres ac prnestantissimi 
 domini, quibus pium atque proeclarum hoc studium est, 
 solo evangelico aniorc inipulsis, fratres inter se cer- 
 tantes componere atque conciliare, et omni apud ho- 
 mines laude dig"ni, coelestis illius pacificorum prtemii 
 apud Deum baud dubie compotes futuri, cujus sunimae 
 benignitati atque gratiae vos vestrosque omnes ex animo 
 commendatos volumus, si qua in re vobis usui esse 
 possumus, ad omnia cum amicorum turn fratrum officia 
 promptissimi. 
 
 Datis Westmonasterio, die Octobris, an. Dom. 1653. 
 Subscripsit et parlamenti sigillum imprimendum 
 curavit Prolocutor parlamenti reipub. Anglioe. 
 
 Legato Hispanico. 
 
 Illustrissime Domine, 
 Cum graves ad nos allatae essent querelae Philippi 
 Noelli, Joannis Godalli, et societatis mercatorum in 
 Anglia Foyensium, navem quandam suam Annam 
 Foyensem dictam, navem Anglicam a sese instructam, 
 suis mercibus onustam, cum domum suam ad portum 
 Foyensem cursum teneret, circa festum Michaelis Arch- 
 augeli, a nave quadam presidiaria Ostendensi, cui 
 praefuit Erasmus Bruerus, oppressam injust^ et sine 
 causa captam fuisse, inque ea nautas indigne et barbare 
 tractates, consilium status ea de re ad Marchionem 
 Ledae scripsit, (qnarum literarum exemplar amplitudini 
 vestras und cum his mittimus) expectabatque ab eo sine 
 mora mandatum iri, ut ex jure et sequo ista in re quam 
 primum ageretur. Verum cum denuo praedictus No- 
 ellus una cum ilia societate graviter queratur, quamvis 
 litersB nostrae Marcbioni redditae fuerint, et mercatores 
 iili ab eo tempore se Brugas ad maritimarum causarum 
 curiam contulerint, ibique jus suum sueeque causoe 
 veritatem probaverint, justitiam tamen sibi denegari, 
 tamque inique secum agi, ut quamvis per tres ampliiis 
 menses cognitioni matura res fuerit, tamen ab ilia curia 
 se impetrare non posse ut sententiam tandem ferat; 
 quin na?is eorum et bona nihilo minus retineantur, 
 seque per banc moram in persequendojuresuomagnos 
 sumptus fecisse. Non ignorat amplitudovestra et juri 
 gentium et commercii et amicitiae, quae inter Anglos 
 et Flandros est, contrarium esse, ut navisaliquaOsten- 
 densis navem aliquam Anglicam caperet, si quidem 
 mercibus Anglicis onusta Angliam petat ; queequc ab 
 illo preefecto in nautas Anglicos inhumaniter ac barbare 
 commissa sunt poenam gravem mereri. Concilium 
 
 itaque banc rem amplitudini vcstrac commendat, pctit- 
 que ut de ea in Flandriam scriberc velitis, eamque 
 operant primo quoque tempore dare, ut ne hoc ncgo- 
 tium diutiiis extraliatur, sed uti ea justitia fiut, ut pra;- 
 dicta navis et bona, una cum damnis, sumptibus et 
 foenore quae Angli isti propter illam injustam intcrcep- 
 tionem sustinuerunt, autboritatc curiie maritimiu Bru- 
 gensis, aut alio niodo bono iis reddantur, utque curctur 
 nequa ejusmodi interceptio deinceps fiat, quin amicitia 
 quae nostris hominibus cum Flandris intercedit sine 
 ulla violatione conservetur. 
 
 Obsignatum nomine et jussu concilii status parla- 
 menti authoritate constitute 
 
 Marchioni Led^. 
 
 Illustrissime Domine, 
 Graves ad nos allatae sunt querelae, a Philippo 
 Noello, et Joanni Godallo, et societate mercatorum 
 Foyensium, de nave quadam sua, cui nomen Anna 
 Foyensis, quae cum esset navis Anglica, ab illis in- 
 structa, et ipsorum solummodo mercibus onusta, circiter 
 festum Michaelis Archangeli ad portum suum renavi- 
 gans, a nave prsesidaria qute ad Ostendam pertinebat, 
 cujus erat prsefectus Erasmus Bruerus, de improviso 
 capta fuit. Nuntiatum porro est, Ostendenses, cum in 
 sua potestate navis esset, nautas omnes nimis inhuma- 
 niter tractasse, accenso fune digitis admoto, et navis 
 magistrum undis immersisse, atque poene suffocasse, 
 ut minime veram ab ipso confessionem extorquerent, 
 de navi atque mercimoniis illis, quasi Gallorum essent. 
 Quod tametsi magister ille caeterique socii navis firmi- 
 ter pernegabant, Ostendenses tamen, et navim et mer- 
 cedes in portum suum abduxerunt. Haec in curia 
 navali Angliae, inquisitione facta, testibusque adbibitis, 
 vera esse apparuere, ut ex autographis testimoniorum 
 quae cum his literis simul misimns manifesto liquebit. 
 Cum itaque ilia navis, Anna Foyensis dicta, atque 
 mercimonia omnia peculiariter vere ac proprie ad An- 
 glos pertineant, adeo ut nulla causa appareat cur 
 Ostendenses vel illam vel ea vi caperent, multo minus 
 auferrent navis magistrum, aut societatem tam dur^ 
 tractarent; cumque secundum leges nationum atque 
 amicitiam inter Anglos Flandrosque, navim illam at- 
 que mercimonia reddi oporteat, magnopere petimus ab 
 excellentia vestra, ut jus suum Anglicani mature obti- 
 neant, atque illis satisfiat qui damnum acceperunt, 
 utque commercium, et amicitia quae inter Anglos Flan 
 drosque est, diii atque firmiter conservetur. 
 
 Legato Hispanico. 
 
 Parlamentum reipublicfp Anglice cum intelliga 
 plurimosex populo in hac urbetam excel lentiae vestr 
 quam aliorum legatorum ct ministrorura ab exter 
 regionibus publicorum his vcrsantium domos miss 
 audiendat; causa frequentare, concilio status mandavi 
 uti excellentioe vestraj significarct, cum hoc gcntis 
 hujus legibus damnatum, ac in hac nostra republica 
 mali admodum exempli sit, ofTcnsionisque plenum, 
 censere sc, sui plani officii esse, ne quid talc dchinc 
 
L1TER.E SENATUS ANGLICAN I. 
 
 791 
 
 fiat providere; coetusque ejusmodi in futurum prorsiis 
 interdicere. Qua de re excellentiam vestram admoni- 
 tam nunc esse cupimus, ut ne quern ex populo hujus 
 reipublicjB missae audiendas causa suam in domum 
 posthacvelit admittere. Et quemadmodum parlamen- 
 tum diligenter curabit, ut legati jus et privilegia quoe- 
 que vestrse excellentiae inviolata serventur, ita hoc sibi 
 persuasissimum liabet, excellentiam vestram, quamdiu 
 hie commoratur, leges hujus reipub. perse suosve nolle 
 uHo modo violatas. 
 
 Summarium damnonim singulorwn ct haud fictorum 
 quibus Societas Anglicana multis Orientalis India 
 locis h Bclgica Societate affecta est. 
 
 I. 
 
 s. d. 
 
 1. Damna ilia sedecim articulis com- 
 prehensa et pridem exhibita, quorum 
 summa est 298555 regiorum § quae est 
 
 nionettB nostrte .... 74638 15 
 
 2. De Pularonis insulae fructibus 
 satisf'actioncm dari postulamus ab 
 anno 1622, ad hoc usque tempus, du- 
 centies niillenum regiorum ^ prceter 
 dispcndium futurum donee jus ditionis 
 in illani insulam nobis restituatur eo 
 rerum statu in quo fuit cum ercpta 
 nobis est, prout fredere sancitum erat : 
 
 quod est nostroe monetse . - - 50000 
 
 3. Satisfactionem postulamus de om- 
 nibus illis mercinioniis cibariis ct ap- 
 paratibus, qui ab agentibus societatis 
 Belgian a])ud Indos ablati sunt, aut iis 
 traditi, aut ulli ex eonim navibus eo 
 cursum tenentibus aut inde redeunti- 
 bus, quorum summa est 80635 regio- 
 rum : nostrte monette . - - 20158 
 
 4. Satisfactionem postulamus ob 
 portoria mercium Belgicarum quae in 
 Perside aut navibus impositoe sunt, aut 
 in terrani expositoe ab anno 1624, prout 
 nobis a rege Persarum concessum erat, 
 quoe minoris oestimare non possumus 
 
 quam octogies millenis regiis - - 20000 
 
 5. Satisfactionem postulamus ob 
 quatuor aedes malitiosissimc et ini- 
 quissime Joccatrae incensas, una cum 
 mercium apothecis repositoriis et appa- 
 ratibus, cui rei praetor illic Belgicus 
 occasionem dedit, de quibus omnibus ex 
 eo ipso loco certiores postea facti sumus 
 quam priores querelas exhibueramus ; 
 cujus damni summa est ducenties mil- 
 
 Icnum regiorum .... 50000 
 
 6. Satisfactionem postulamus ob 
 32899 libras pij)eris ex nave Endi- 
 mione vi ablatas anno 1649, cujus 
 
 damni summa est - - - - 6000 
 
 220796 15 
 
 Summarium damnorum aliquot particttlanum quibus 
 etiam h Belgica Orientalis India Societate uffecti 
 sumus. 
 
 I. 
 
 s. d. 
 
 1. Propter damna quae per eos feci- 
 mus qui Bantamum obsederunt, unde 
 factum est ut per sex annos continuos 
 eo commercio exclusi simus, et conse- 
 quenter occasione sexcenties mille re- 
 gies in coemendo pipere locandi pro 
 rata nostra portione, quo multas naves 
 nostras in reditu onerare potuissemus, 
 quo onere cum carerent passim per In- 
 dite littora cariem traxere : interea sors 
 nostra apud Indos qute vel pecuniae 
 vel bonorum erat stipendio uautico 
 commeatu alioque apparatu imminuta 
 et exhausta est, adeo ut prtedictce jac- 
 turte haud minoris testimari queaut 
 vicies ccntics et quater millenis regiis, 
 
 id est nostra; monetae ... 600000 
 
 2. Plura etiam propter damna ex 
 amissa parte nostra dcbita fructuum in 
 iusulis Moluccis, Banda et Amboyna, 
 ex quo tempore per caedem nostrorum 
 ibi factam pulsi inde sumus ad usque 
 illud tempus quo de jactura hac atquc 
 dispcndio nobis satisfiat, quod spatium 
 tcmporis ab anno 1622, ad hunc annum 
 praesentem 1650, pro reditu anno25000 
 
 librarum, annis 28, summam conficit 700000 
 
 3. Reparationem insuper postula- 
 mus centies et bis millenum nongento- 
 rum quinquaginta novem regiorum 
 Surattae, a populo M ogulli nobis abla- 
 torum, quos Belgte eum in modum tu- 
 tati sunt, ut neque ex pecuniis ncque 
 ex bonis ejus populi qute in ipsorum 
 juncis seu navibus erant damna nostra 
 resarcirc possemus, quod quidem per- 
 ficere et conati sumus et in manu 
 nostra situm erat, nisi eos Belgte ini- 
 quissime defendisscnt, quse pccunia 
 amissa ad impcnsas faciendas jamdu- 
 dum in Europa triplura peperisset: 
 
 quod nos a,'stimamus . _ - 77020 
 
 4. Ob portoria Persidis quorum di- 
 midia pai-s ab rege Persarum Anglis 
 concessa est anno 1624, qute usque ad 
 annum 1629 supputata testimatur oc- 
 ties millenis regiis, quemadmodum 
 prius exponitur qua ratione subducta 
 quatuor mille librarum in annos sin- 
 gulos praebere tenentur ab anno 1629, 
 a quo unus et viginti anni sunt, atque 
 
 inde summa conficietur - - - 84000 
 Ab altero summario - 220790 15 
 
 Locus figurse ^ 
 
 Summa totalis - 1681816 15 
 
 retrii 
 
 Debitum ab eo tempore foenus sortem ipsam longe superabit. 
 
LITER7E OLIVERII PROTECTORIS 
 
 NOMINE SCRIPTiE. 
 
 Comiti Oloenburgico. 
 
 Illiistrissime Domiiie; 
 Per literas vestras Jaiiuarii die vig'esimo 1654 datas, 
 certior sum factus, nobilem virum Fridericum Matthiam 
 Wolisogura secretarium vestrum, et Christophorum 
 Griphiandrum, cum certis mandatis ab illustrissima 
 dignitate vestra in Angliam missos fuisse. Qui cum 
 ad nos accessissent, etsusceptara Ang-licanae reipublicre 
 administrationem nobis vestro nomine gratulati sunt ; 
 et uti vos vestraqUe ditio in banc pacem, quam cum 
 federatis Belgii ordinibus proxime fecimus, assumere- 
 roini : ut denique salvam-guardiam illam quam vulgo 
 Tocant, a parlamento nuper vobis concessam, nostra 
 nunc authoritate confirmaremus, petiverunt : ob istam 
 itaque gratulationem tam amicam niaximas, ut aequum 
 est, gratias agimus: et ilia duo postulata libenter con- 
 cessimus ; nulli etiam occasioni in posterum defuturi, 
 quBB studium in vos nostrum poterit uUo tempore de- 
 clarare. Idque eX supradictis oratoribus vestris plenius 
 vos arbitror intellecturos ; quorum fides, ac diligentia, 
 in hoc vestro apud nos negotio praeclare constitit. Quod 
 reliquum est, vobis, rebusque vestris felicitatem, atque 
 ex voto pacem omnem exopto. 
 Westmonasterio, Jun. 27, 1654. 
 
 Illustrissimee dignitatis vestras studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius, Anglioe, Scotiae, Hiberniee, &Cw 
 Protector. 
 
 Comiti Olden BURoico. 
 
 Illustrissime Domine; 
 Literas vestras Maii secundo die Oldenburgo datas 
 accepi baud uno nomine gratissimas; cum quod essent 
 ips8B singulari erga me humanitate ac benevolentia re- 
 Itrtje; turn quod illustrissimi Domini Comitis Antonii 
 perdilecti filii vestri manu reddita?. Id quod eomagis 
 bonorificum mibi duco, ex quo illius virtutes tanta 
 stirpe dignas, moresque eximios, studium denique in 
 me egregium, non tam acceptum ab aliis, quam re ipsa 
 cognitum atque perspectum, jam habeo. Neque du- 
 bium esse potest, quin candem quoque suis domi spem 
 faciat, fore se patris optimi prsestantissimique similli- 
 nium; cujus pra;clara virtus atque prudcntia perfccit, 
 ut tota ilia ditio Oidenburgica pcrmultis ab annis, et 
 
 summa pace frui, et pacis commoda percipere, inter 
 saevissimos undique circumstrepentium bellorum tii- 
 multus, potuerit. Talem itaque amicitiam quidni ego 
 quam plurimi facerem, qua potest inimicitias omnium 
 tam sapienter ac provide cavere ? Pro munere denique 
 illo magnifico est, Illustrissime Domine, quod gratias 
 habeo; pro jure est ac merito tuo, quod ex animo sum 
 Illustrissimte dignitatis vestree studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius, Anglioe, Scotiae, Hibemiee, &c. 
 Protector. 
 Westmonasterio, 29 Junii, 1654. 
 Illustrissimo Domino Antonio Gunthero, Comiti 
 in Oldenburgh, et Delmenhorst, Domino in Jeb- 
 vern, et Kniphausen. 
 
 Oliverids Protector Reipvh. Angliee, Scotia, Hiber- 
 nia:, 8rc. Serenissimo Principi Carolo Gustavo 
 Succorum, Gothorum, Vandalorumque Regi, Magna 
 Principi Finlandice, Duci Esthonice, Carelice, Brc- 
 mre, Verdce, Stetini, Pomeratiite, Cassubice et Vanda- 
 lice, Principi Rugice, Domino Ingriee, Wissmaria, 
 necnon Comiti Palatino Rheni, Bavaria, Jul. Clivite 
 et Montium Duci, Sfc. Salutem. 
 
 Serenissime Rex ; 
 Cum Suecorum regnum per hosce dies summis populi 
 studiis, omniumque ordinum suffragiis liberrimis, trans- 
 latum ad vos esse, toto orbe terrarum percrebuerit, id 
 maluisse majestatem vestram suis literis amicissimis, 
 quam vulgata fama nos intelligere, et summee benevo* 
 lentioE erga nos vestrse, et honoris inter primos attributi, 
 argumentum baud leve esse ducimus. Illam itaque 
 vestris meritis egregiis accessionem dignitatis, prtenii- 
 umque virtute tanta dignissimum, et sponte et jure 
 vobis gratulamur : idque ut majestati vestrae, Succo- 
 rumque genti, reique toti cbristianae, bonum atque 
 faustum sit, quod et vobis maxime in votis est, junctis 
 precibus Deuni oranius. Quod autcm foederis inter 
 banc rempublicam Sueciaeque regnum recens icti con- 
 servationem majestas vestra, quod ad se attinet inte- 
 gerrimam, usque eo curse sibi fore confirmat, ut qu.-R 
 nunc intercedit amicitia, non pcrmanere solum, sed, si 
 id fieri potest, augescere etiam indies possit, id vel in 
 dnbium vocare nefas esse, tua tanti principis fide inter- 
 posita, cujus eximia virtus non solum in pcrcgrina terra 
 regnum tibi hu;reditarium pepcrit, sed tantum etiam 
 
LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 7D3 
 
 potiiit, ut augustissima regina, Gustavi filia, cui parem 
 omni laude heroinam multa retro secula non tulere, 
 possessione imperii justissima inopinanti tibi ac nolenti 
 ultro cederet. Vestrum denique tam singulare erga. 
 nos stiidium, tamque preeclaram anirai sig-iiificaUonem 
 nobis esse gratissimam, omni ratione persuasum esse 
 vobis cupimus ; nullumque nobis pulchrius certamen 
 fore,quam iitvestram humauitatemnostrisofficiis nullo 
 tempore defiituris, si id potest fieri, vincamus. 
 
 „, . • J- MaiestatisrestrfiB studiosissimus, 
 
 Westmonasterto, ate ^ •' t. • . i- o • 
 
 . r f ,^-A Oliverius, Reip. Anglise, Scotiee, 
 4 Julti, 16o4. ,,., . ' '^^ " 
 
 Hibernise, &c. Protector. 
 
 Ilhistrissimo Domino LuDOVico Mendezio de Haro. 
 
 Quod accepi ex literis suis, illustrissime Dominc, 
 constitutum ac norainatura jam esse ab serenissimo 
 Hispaniarum rege legatum, qui de suscepta a me An- 
 glicana republica gratiilatum hue primo quoque tempore 
 veniret; cum est merito per se gratum, tum tu id, qui 
 ex te imprimis hoc me cognoscere voluisti, ut esset mihi 
 aliquanto gratius atque jucundius, singulari tuo studio 
 atque officii celeritate eftecisti. Sic enim diligi atque 
 probari me abs te, qui virtute tua atqiie prudentia tan- 
 tam apud regem tuum authoritatem tibi conciliasti, ut 
 vel maximis illius regni negotiis par animo praesis, 
 baud minori profecto mihi voluptati debet esse, quam 
 judicium prrestantissirai viri ornamento mihi intelligo 
 fore. De meo autem in sereuissimum Hispaniarum 
 regem propenso animo, et ad amicitiam cum isto regno 
 conservandani, atque etiam indies exaugendam, pronip- 
 tissimo, et huic qui nunc adest legato satisfecisse me 
 spero, et alteri, ciim advenerit, cumulatt^ satisfacturum. 
 De Ccetero, illustrissime Domine, qua nunc flores apud 
 regcra tuum dignitate ac gratia, earn tibi perpetuam 
 exopto; quasque res geris bono publico et administras, 
 volo tibi prospere feliciterque e venire. 
 
 Amplitudinis tuee illustrissimie studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Angliae, Scotiae, 
 Hiberniue, &c. 
 
 Alba Aula, Septembris die, 1654. 
 
 Sereni.isimo Principi Carolo Gvstavo Adolpho, jSm«- 
 corum, Gothorum, Vandalorumque Reffi,Scc, 
 
 Cum de voluntate vestrae majestatis in me singulari 
 ex vestris sim nuper literis persuasus, quibus et ipse 
 pari studio rescripserim, videor mihi ex ratione prorsus 
 aniicitiae nostree deinceps facturus, si quemadmodum 
 quae grata acciderint ad Isetitiam mutuam communicem, 
 ita quae contraria, de iis vobis tanquam amicissimis, 
 animi mei sensum doloremque aperiam. De me equi- 
 dem sic existimo, eo me in loco reipub. jam esse consti- 
 tutum, ut communi Protestantium paci imprimis, et 
 quantum in me est, consulere debeam. Quo gravius 
 necesse est feram qute de Bremensium et Suecorum 
 preeliis mutuisque cladibus ad nos perferuntur. Illud 
 primum doleo, amicos utrosque nostros tani atrociter, 
 tamque Protestantium rationibus periculose, inter se 
 decertare ; pacem deinde illam monastericnsem, quje 
 reforniulis omnibus summo praesidio credebatur fore, 
 
 ejusmodi peperisse infcelix bellum: utnunc arma Sue- 
 corum in eos conversa sint, quos inter ca'teros paulo 
 ante religionis causa acerrime defenderent : idque po- 
 tissimum hoc tempore fieri, cum pontificii per totam 
 fere Germaniam reformatos ubique rursus opprimere, 
 et ad intermissas paulisper injurias, vimque pristiuam, 
 redire palam dicantur. Cum itaque intelligerem di- 
 erum aliquot inducias ad Bremam urbem jam esse fac- 
 tas, non potui sane fluin majestati vestrae, occasione 
 hac data, significarem quam cupiam ex animo, quara- 
 que enixh Deum pacis orem, uti istae inducioe utrique 
 parti feliciter cedant ; utque in pacem firmissimam ex 
 compositione utrinque commoda possint desinere : quam 
 ad rem si meam operam conferre quicquam, aut usui 
 fore, majestas vestra judicaverit, earn vobis libentissime, 
 ut in re Divino Numini proculdubio acceptissima, pol- 
 liccor atque defero. Interea majestatis vestrae consilia 
 omnia ut ad comniunem christianoe rei salutem dirigat 
 Deus atque gubcrnet, quod idem non dubito quin et 
 vos maxime velitis, animitus exopto. 
 Alba Aula, Oct. Majestatis vestrte studiosissimus, ' 
 
 26, 1653. Oliverius Prot. Reip. Angliee, &c. 
 
 Magnificis amplissimisque Consulibus ac Senatoribus 
 Civitatis Bremevsis. 
 
 Ex literis vestris per oratorem vestrum Henricum 
 Oldenburgum ad nos datis, coortum civitati vestrae 
 cum vicino potentissimo dissidium, quasque exinde ad 
 angustias redacti sitis, eo majore cum molestia ac do- 
 lore intelligo, quo magis Bremensem civitafem, praeter 
 caiteras orthodoxa religione praestantem, diligo atque 
 amplector; neque in votis quicquam habeo antiquius, 
 quam ut universum Protestantium nomen fraterno 
 consensu atque concordia in uuum tandem coalescat. 
 Ltetari interim comniunem reformatorum hostem hisce 
 nostris contentionibus,et ferocius passim instare, certis- 
 simum esL Ipsa autem controversia, cum decisionis 
 nostrae non sit quae vos jam nunc exercet, Deum itaque 
 oro ut quae coeptae sunt induciee possint feel icem exitum 
 sortiri. Equidem quod petistis, ad Suecorum regem ea 
 de re scripsi suasor pacis atque concordiae, Deo ninii- 
 rum imprimis gratce, meamque operam ut in re tam 
 pia libens detuli, vos uti oequum animnm, neque ab 
 ullis pacis conditionibus, honestis quidem illis, abhor- 
 rentem suadeo geratis; vestramque civitatem divinoe 
 tutelae ac providentiae commendo. 
 Alba Aula, Oct. Amplitudinis vestrae studiosissimus, 
 26, 1654. Oliverius Prot. Reipub. Angliae, &c. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angliee Illustrissimo 
 Principi Tarentino, S. P. D. 
 
 Perspectus ex literis tuis ad me datis religionis 
 amor tuus, et in ecclesias reformatas pietas eximia, 
 studiumque singulare, in ista praesertim generis nobili- 
 tate ac splendore, eoquesub regno in quo deficientibus 
 ab orthodoxa fide tot sunt nobilissimis quibusque spes 
 uberes propositae, tot firmioribus incommoda subeunda, 
 permagiio me plane gaudio ac voluptate affecit. Nee 
 minus gratum erat placuisse me tibi ea ipso religionis 
 
7i« 
 
 LITEILE OLIVERII PROTECTOKLS. 
 
 nomine, quo tu niilii diloctiis atque chariis imprimis 
 esse (lebes. Ueuin autem obtestor ut qiiani de me 
 spcm ccclcsiarum et expectationem esse ostcndis, pos- 
 sim ei aliquando vel satisfaccre, si opus erit, ve! de- 
 moiistrare omnibus, quum cupiam non deesse. Nullum 
 equidem fructum laborum meorum, nullum hujus quam 
 obtiueo in repub. mea si?e dignitatis sive muneris, nee 
 ampliorcm existimarem, nee jucundiorem, quam ut 
 idoneus sim, qui ecclcsiie rcformatae vel amplificatiotii 
 •vel incolumitati, vel quod maximum est, paci inscr- 
 viam. Te vero hortor mag^nopere ut relig'ioneni ortho- 
 doxam, qua pietate ac studio a majoribus acceptam 
 profiteris, cadcm animi firmitate atque constantia ad 
 extremum usque retineas. Nee sane qnicquam erit te 
 tuisque pareutiiius religiosissimis dig'nius, nee quod pro 
 tuis in me meritis quanquam tua causa cupio omnia, 
 optare tibi melius aut preeclarius queam, quam si sic 
 te pares atque instituas, ut ecclesiae, praesertim patrisp, 
 quarum in disciplina tarn felici indole tamque illustri 
 loco natus es, quanto caeteris preeluces, tanto firmius 
 in te preesidium suis rebus constitutum esse sentiant. 
 Vale. 
 
 Alba Aula, die Aprilis, 1655. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reipuh. Anglice Serenissimo 
 Principi Immanueli Sabaudice, Duct Pedemontii 
 Principi, Salutem. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps ; 
 REDDiTvEsunt nobis Geneva, necnon ex Delphinatu 
 aliisque multis ex locis ditioni vestrae finitiniis literoe, 
 quibus certiores facti sumus, regalis vestrte celsitudinis 
 subditis reformatam religionem profitentibus, vestro 
 edicto atque authorilate imperatum nuper esse, uti tri- 
 duo quam hoc edictum promulgatum erit suis sedibus 
 atque agris excedant poena capitis, et fortunarum 
 omnium amissione proposita, nisi fidem fecerint se, dere- 
 licta religione sua, intra dies viginti eatholicam religi- 
 onem amplexuros: Cumque se supplices ad celsitudi- 
 nem vestrara regalem contulissent, petentes uti edictum 
 illud revocetur, utque ipsi, pristinam in gratiam recepti, 
 concessffi a serenissimis majoribus vestris libertati resti- 
 tuantur, partem tamen excrcitus vestri in eos impetum 
 fecisse, multos crudelissime trucidasse, alios vinculis 
 mandusse, reliquos in deserta loca montesque nivibus 
 coopertos expulisse, ubi familiarum aliquot centurise 
 eo loci rediguntur, ut sit metuendum ne frigore et fame 
 brevi sint misere omnes periturae. Hsec cum ad nos 
 perlata essent, baud sane potuimus quin, hujus afflic- 
 tissimi populi tantacalamitate audita, summo dolore ac 
 miseratione commoveremur. Cum autem non huniani- 
 tatis modo, sed cjusdem religionis communione, adeoque 
 fraterna penitus necessitudine cum iis conjunctos nos 
 esse fateamur, satisfieri a nobis neque nostro erga Deuni 
 officio, neque fratenite charitati, neque religionis ejus- 
 dem professioni posse existimavimus, si in hac fratrum 
 nostrorum calamitate ac miseria solo seiisu dcdoris affi- 
 ceremur, nisi ctiam ad sublevanda corum tot mala 
 inopinata, quantum in nobis est situm, omnem operam 
 nostram conferamus. Itaque a vestra imprimis celsi- 
 tudine regali majorem in modum enixi petimus et ob- 
 
 tcstamur, ut ad instituta sercnissimorum majorum 
 suoruni, coiicessamque ab iis omni tempore et confir- 
 matam subditis suis Vallcnsibus libertatem, velit ani- 
 mum referre. In qua concedcnda atque confirmanda, 
 quemadmodum id praestiterunt, quod Deo per se gra- 
 tissimum proculdubio est, qui conscientioe jus inviola- 
 bile ac potestatem penes se unum esse voluit, ita dubium 
 non est quin subditorum etiam suorum nieritam rati- 
 onem habuerint, quos et in bello strenuos ac fidclissi- 
 mos, et in pace dicto semper audientes, experti fuisseut. 
 Utque serenitas vestra regalis in cseteris omnibus et 
 benign^ et gloriosd factis avorum suorum vestigiis 
 optim6 insistit, ita in hoc nolit ab iisdem discedere 
 etiam atque ctiam obsecramus ; sed et hoc edictum, 
 et si quod aliud inquietandisreforniatae religionis causa 
 subditis suis rogatum sit, uti abroget; ipsos patriis se- 
 dibus atque bonis restituat; concessa jura ac libertatem 
 pristinam ratam iis faciat ; accepta damna sarciri, et 
 eorum vexationibus finem imponi jubeat. Quod si fe- 
 cerit regalis celsitudo vestra, etrem Deo acceptissiniam 
 fecerit, miseros illos et calamitosos erexerit et recrc^rit, 
 et it suis omnibus vicinis, quotquot reformatam religi- 
 onem colunt, maximam gratiam inierit; nobisque po- 
 tissimum, qui vestram in illos benignitatem atque cle- 
 mentiam obtestationis nostrae fructum arbitrabimur. 
 Quod et ad omnes officiorum reddendas vices nos obli- 
 gaverit; nee stabiliendse solum verum etiam augendce 
 inter banc remp. vestramque ditionem necessitudinis 
 et amicitiee fundamenta firmissima jecerit. Neque vero 
 hoc minus ab justitia vestra et moderatione animi nobis 
 pollicemur: quam in partem Deum Opt. Max. oramus 
 uti mentem vestram et cogitationes flectat : vobisque 
 adeo vestroque populo pacem,ac veritatem,et successus 
 rerum omnium felices, ex anirao precamur. 
 Alba Aula, Maio, 1655. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Anglia, !fc. Serenissimo 
 Principi Transylvania, Salutem. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps ; 
 Ex Uteris vestris sexto-decimo Novembris 1654, ad 
 nos datis, singularem erga nos benevolentiam veslraOi 
 atque studium perspeximus; et internuntius vester, 
 qui illas nobis literas dedit, de contrahenda nobiscum 
 societateet amicitia voluntatem vestram amplius coram 
 exposuit. Nos certe occasionem banc esse datam, unde 
 nostrum quoque erga vos animum, et quanti cclsitu- 
 dinem vestram merito faciamus, declarare atque osten- 
 dere possimus, baud mediocriter sane gaudemus. Cum 
 autem vestra in n-mpublicam christianam pnrclara 
 merita laboresque suscepti ad nos usque fama perve- 
 nerint, et htec omnia certius, et quae amplius rei chris- 
 tianae vel defendendoe vel promovendae causa in animo 
 habeatis, celsitudo vestra suis literis communicata no- 
 bis amicissim^ voluerit, ea uberiorem insuper loetandi 
 materiam nobis attulere : Deum ncmpe iis in regioni- 
 bus excitiisse sibi tani potcntem atque cgregium suae 
 glorise ac providentiie niiiiistrum ; qui, cum virtute at- 
 que armis tantum possit, de religione communi Protes- 
 tantium tucnda, cui nunc undique mal6 et dictum et 
 factum est, nobiscum una sociarc consilia cupiat. Dcus 
 
LITER.E OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 795 
 
 autem, qui utrisque nobis, tametsi loconim intervallo 
 tain loiig-c disjunctis, eundem reli^ionis orthodoxte de- 
 fendendiE studium atque animum injecit, dubium non 
 est quill earum proecipue rationum author nobis futurus 
 sit, unde et nobis, et inter nos, et reformatorum reliquis 
 principibus ac civitatibus, hac in re niaximo esse adju- 
 mento atque usui possiinus, occasionibus certe omnibus 
 intcnti, si quas Deus obtulerit, iis quod ad nos attinet, 
 eodem Deo bene juvante, non deerimus. Interea celsi- 
 tudini vestrae sine suramo dolore comraemorare nou 
 possumus, quanta inclementia dux Allobrogum subditos 
 suos Alpiiiarum quarundam vallium incolas, ortho- 
 doxam relig'ionem retinentes, persequutus sit. Quos non 
 solum sevcrissimo edicto, quotquot Romanain religio- 
 iiem suscipere recusarunt, sedes avitas bonaque omnia 
 relinquere coegit; verinn etiam suo exercitu adortus 
 est, qui multos crudelissime concidit, alios barbare per 
 exquisitos eruciatus necavit, partem vero maximam in 
 montes expulit fame et frij^ore absumcndam, exustis 
 doniibus, et siqua eorum bona ab illis carnificibus non 
 sint direpta. Htec ut ad vos jamdudum nuntiata sunt, 
 et celsitudini vestrae tantam crudclitatem graviter dis- 
 plicuisse, et vestram opem atque auxilium, qtiantum in 
 vobis est, illis niiserriniis, siqui tot ciedibus atque misei iis 
 adbuc supersunt, non defuturum, nobis facile persuadc- 
 tur. Nos literasduci Sabaudiae, ad deprccandum ejus 
 infensum in suos animum, jam scripsimus; sicut et 
 Gallorum regi, idem ut is ctiam velit facere; vicinis 
 dcnique reformatae relig'ionis principibus, uti de ilia 
 stEvitia tani immani quid nos scntianius intelligere pos- 
 sint: quic quanquam in illos ino])es primum coepta est, 
 idem tamen omnibus eandem relig'ionem profitentibus 
 minatur : eoque majorem illis prospiciendi sibi in com- 
 mune suisque omnibus consulendi nccessitatcm impo- 
 iiit : quam et nos eandem rationeni, prout Deus nobis 
 in animum induxorit, semper sequemur. Id quod cel- 
 situdo vestra persuadere sibi poterit quemadmodum et 
 de sing-ulari nostro erga se studio atque affectu, quo 
 prosperos rerum omnium successus vobis animitiis ex- 
 optamus; et vestra inca?pta omnia atque conatus, qui- 
 bus Evangelii cultorunique ejus libertati studetis, fceli- 
 cem exituni sortiri volumus. 
 Alba Aula, Maio, 16;j5. 
 
 Olivkrius Protect. Serenissimo Printipi Carolo 
 Gustavo Adolpho, Suecorttm Regi, Salutem. 
 
 Pervenisse nuper in reg'na vestra illius edicti acer- 
 bissimi famam, quo dux Sabaudia* subjectos sibi Alpi- 
 iios incolas, reformatam relijjionem profitentes, fundi- 
 tus afflixit, et nisi relig^ione Romana suam mutare 
 fidem a majoribus acceptam intra dies vig-inti velint, 
 pairiis sedibus exterminari jussit, unde multis inter- 
 fectis, cteteri spoliati, et ad interitum certissimum ex- 
 positi, per incultissimos montes byememque perpetuam, 
 fame et frigore confecli, cum conjugibus ac parvulis 
 jam nunc aberrant; et haec graviter tulisse majcstatem 
 vestram nobis persuasissimum est. Nam Protestantium 
 iiomen atque causam, tametsi inter se dc rebus non 
 maximis dissentiunt, communem tamen et pene unara 
 esse, adversarioruiii par in onmes Protestantcs odium 
 
 facile demonstrat. Et Suecorum reges suam cum re- 
 formatis conjunxisse semper causam, illatis etiam in 
 Germaniam armis ad Protestantium religionem sine 
 discrimine tuendam, nemo est qui ignoret : petimus 
 imprimis igitur, idque majorem in modum, a majes- 
 tate vestra (nisi id jam fecerit, quod et reformato- 
 rum alioe respubliciE et nos fecimus) ut cum Sabau- 
 dite duce per litcras velit agere; suaque authoritate 
 interposita, et banc tantam edicti atrocitatem ab homi- 
 nibus cum innocuis turn religiosis deprecando, si 
 fieri potest, avertere conetur: etenim baec initia tarn 
 saeva quo spectent, quid nobis omnibus minentur, ad- 
 mouere vestram majcstatem supervacuum esse arbitra- 
 niur. Quod si is irae suae, quam nostris omnium preci- 
 bus, auscultare maluerit : nobis profecto, siquod est 
 vinculum, siqua religionis charitas aut communio cre- 
 denda atque colenda est, communicate prius vestra cum 
 majestate caeterisque reformatorum primoribus consiiio, 
 alia quamprimum ineunda ratio erit, qua provideri 
 mature possit, ne tantainnocentissimorum fratrum nos- 
 trorum niultitudo omni ope destituta miserrime pereat. 
 Quod idem quin majestati vestne visum jam sit atque 
 decretum cum nullo modo dubitemus, nihil consultius, 
 ut nostra quidem fert sententia, esse poterit quam ut 
 gratiam, authoritatem, consilia, opes, et siquid aliud 
 necesse est, in banc rem primo quoque tempore confe- 
 ramus. Interea majestatem vestram Deo Opt. Max. 
 commendatam ex auimo volumus. 
 
 Oliverius Protector lieip. Auglia, S,-c. Excelsis et 
 Prapotentibus Dominis Fcederati Belgii Ordinibus. 
 
 Edictum ducis Sabaudiee nuperrimum in subjectos 
 sibi Alpines incolas, orthodoxam religionem antiquitus 
 profitentes, quo illi edicto, ni intra dies viginti fidem 
 Romauam amplectantur, exuti fortunis omnibus, pa- 
 trice quoque sedes relinquere jubentur, et quanta crude- 
 litate in homines innoxios atque inopes, nostrosque, 
 quod maxime referl, in Christo fratres, illius edicti 
 auctoritas grassata sit, occisis permultis ab exercitus 
 parte contra eos missa,direptis reliquis atque donio ex- 
 pulsis, unde illi cum conjugibus ac liberis fame ct 
 frigore conflictari inter asperrimos montes nivesque 
 perpetuas jamdiu coacti sunt, rumoreet vicinis undique 
 ex locis creberrimis Uteris ac nunciis cognovisse vos 
 jamdudum existimamus. Qua autera animi coinmoti- 
 one, quo sensu fraternae calamitatis, haec vos affecerint, 
 facile ex dolore nostro qui certe est gravissimus intelli- 
 gere videmur. Qui enim eodem religionis vinculo con- 
 junct! sumus, quidni iisdem plane aflfectibus in tarn 
 gravi atque indigna fratrum nostrorum commovercmur? 
 Et vestra quidem in orthodoxos, ubicunque locorum 
 disjectos atque oppresses, spectata pietas atque in multis 
 ecclesiarum difficultatibus et adversis rebus jam ssepe 
 cognita est. Ego certe, nisi me fallit animus, quavis 
 in re potius, quam studio et charitate erga fratres reli- 
 gionis causa violates atque afflictos, vinci sustineam : 
 quandoquidem ecclesiarum salutem atque pacem in- 
 columitati etiam proprise libens prsetulerim. Quod 
 jo-itur hactenus potuimus, ad SabaudiiE ducera scripsi- 
 mus; supplicitcr peu6 rogantes, ut in hos homines in- 
 
796 
 
 LITERS OLIVERIl PROTECTORIS. 
 
 nocentissimos ct sub<litos ct supplices suos placatiorem 
 animum ac voluntatem suscipiat, suas sedes atque for- 
 tuiias luiseris rcddat, pristinatn etiam in religione liber- 
 tateiu concedat. Scripsiiuus praeteroa ad suinnios 
 Protostantium principes ct inagistratus, ad quos htec 
 maxiin^ pcrtinere jiidicaviinus, ut in SSabaudiie duce 
 exorando suam conferrc operam nobiscum una vclint. 
 Htec eadem, et pliira, fursitan vos quoque fecistis. 
 Nam exeniplum hoc tarn periculosuni, et instaurata 
 miper in reformatos tanta crudclitas, si auctoribus bene 
 cedat, quantum in discrimen adducta religiositvestram 
 contDionefacere prudentiam nihil attinet. £t is quidem 
 si flecti nostris omnium precibus et exorari se passus 
 erit,proeclarum nos atque ubcrem susceptihujuslaboris 
 fructum ac praemium reportabimus. Sin ea in sentcntia 
 perstiterit, ut apud quos nostra religio vel ab ipsis 
 evangelii primis doctoribiis tradita per manus et in- 
 corrupte servata, vel niulto ante quam apud caetcras 
 g^ntes sinceritati pristinee restituta est, eos ad summam 
 desperationem redactos, deletos funditus ac perditos 
 velit, paratos nos esse commune aliquod vobiscum 
 caeterisque reformatis fratribus ac sociis consilium ca- 
 pere,quo etsaluti pereuntium justorum consulere com- 
 modissime queamus, et is demum sentiat ortbodoxorum 
 iujurias atque miserias tam graves non posse nos neg- 
 ligere. Valete. 
 
 Civitatibus Helvetiorum Evangelicis. 
 
 Non dubitamusquin ad aures vestras aliquantocitius 
 quam ad nostras ilia nuper calamitas pervenerit Alpi- 
 norum honiinum religionem nostram profitentium, qui 
 Sabaudise ducis in fide ac ditione cum sint, sui principis 
 edicto patriis sedibus emigrare jussi, ni intra triduum 
 satisdcdissent se Romanam religionem suscepturos, 
 mox armis petiti et ab exercitu ducis sui occisi, etiam 
 permulti in exilium ejecti, nunc sine lare, sine tecto, 
 nudi, spoliati, afflicti, fame et frigore moribundi, per 
 montes desertos atque nives cum conjugibus ac liberis 
 miserrime vagantur. Multo est minus cur dubitemus 
 quin ha^c, ut primum vobis nuntiata sunt, pari atque 
 nos tantarum miscriarum sensu, eoque fortasse graviore 
 quo illorum finibus propiores estis, dolore afFecerint. 
 Vestrum enim in primis orthodoxoe fidei studium egre- 
 gium, summamque in ea cum retinenda constantiam 
 turn defendenda fortitudinem, abunde noviraus. Cum 
 itaque religionis arclissima comrauuione fratres, vel 
 potius unum corpus, cum his miseris vos pariter nobis- 
 cum sitis, cujus membrum nullum aftligi sine sensu, 
 sine dolore, sine detrimento atque periculo reliquorum 
 potest, scribendum ad vos hac de re et significandum 
 censuimus, quanti nostrum omnium interesse arbitre- 
 niur, ut fratres nostros ejectos, atque inopes communi 
 ope atque auxilio, quoad fieri potest, juvemus et con- 
 solcmur; nee eorum tantummodo malis et miseriis re- 
 niovendis, verum etiam nequid serpat latius, uequid 
 pericult cxemplo atque evcntu vel nobis omnibus creari 
 possit, matur^ prospiciamus. Literas nos quidem ad 
 Sabaudio! ducem scripsimus, quibus, uti cum subditis 
 suis fidelissimis pro dementia sua lenius agat, cosque 
 jam prope perditos suis sedibus ac bonis restituat, vchc- 
 
 menter pctivimus. £t bis quidem nostris, vel nostrimi 
 potius omnium conjunctis precibus, exoratum iri priii- 
 cipem serenissimum, quodque ab eo tanto opere peti- 
 vinius, facile concessurum spcramus. Sin illi in nicn- 
 tem secies venerit, communicarc vobiscum consilia 
 parati sumus, qua potissimum rationc oppresses tot in- 
 juriis atque vexatos innocentissimos homines, nobisque 
 charissimos in Christo fratres, sublevare atque erigere, 
 et ab interitu certissimo atque indignissimo conservare, 
 possimus. Quorum salutem atque incolumitatem pro 
 vcstra pietate vobis quam maxime cordi esse confide : 
 Ego earn certe vel gravissimis meis rationibus, immu 
 incolumitate propria, potiorem babendam esse ex- 
 istimem. Valete. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Maii 19, 1655. O. P. 
 
 Superscript. 
 
 lUustribus atque amplissimis Dominis, Helve- 
 ticorum Pagorum Protestantium etConfcede- 
 ratarum Civitatum Consulibus ac Senatoribus, 
 Salutem. 
 
 Serenistimopoteyitissimoqne Principi LuDOVico Gallia 
 Regi. 
 
 Serenissime potentissimeque Rex ; 
 Ex Uteris majestatis vestree, quibus ilia ad meas 
 quinto et vigesimo Maii proximi datas rescribit, facile 
 intelligo nequaquam fefellisse me cam opinionem, qua 
 mihi quidem persuasum erat, cpedes illas immanissimas, 
 barbaramque eorum hominum strageni,qui religionem 
 reformatam in Sabaudia profitentur, a cohortibus qui- 
 busdam vestris factam, neque jussu vestro neque man- 
 date accidisse. Qusb quantum raajestati vestrae dis- 
 plicuerit, id vos vestris militum tribuuis, qui haec tam 
 inhumana suo solo impetu injussi perpetraverant, ita 
 mature significasse, deque tanta crudelitate ducem ip- 
 sum Sabaudiae monuisse, pro reducendis denique istis 
 miseris exulibus unde pulsi sunt, vestram omnem gra- 
 tiam, necessitudinem, authoritatem tanta cum fide atque 
 humanitate interposuisse, majorem equidcm in modum 
 sura Itctatus. Ea nempe spes erat, ilium priiicipem 
 voluntati ac precibus majestatis vestree aliquid saltern 
 hac in re fuisse concessurum. Verum cum neque 
 vestro, neque aliorum principum rogatu atque instantia, 
 in miserorum causa quicquam esse impetratum per- 
 spiciam, baud alienum ab oflficio meo duxi, ut hunc 
 nobilem virum, extraordinarii nostri commissarii mu- 
 nere instructum, ad Allobrogum ducem raitterem ; qui 
 tantae crudelitatis in ijusdcm nobiscum religionis cul- 
 tores, idque ipsius religionis odio adhibitte, quo sensu 
 afficiar, uberiiis eidem exponat. Atque hujus quidem 
 legationis eo feliciorem exitum speravero, si adhibere 
 dcnuo et adiiuc raajore cum instantia suam authorita- 
 tem atque operam majestati vestrte placucrit ; et queni- 
 admodum fideles fore illos inopes dictoque audientes 
 principi suo ipsa in se reccpit, ita vclit eorundem inco- 
 lumitati atque saluti cavere, ne quid iis hiijusmodi iii- 
 juriie et calamitatis atrocissimte innoccntibus ct pacatis 
 dcluceps infcratur. Hoc cum in se justum ac vere re- 
 gium sit, necnon benignitati vcstrne atque clementitp, 
 quae tot subditos vcstros eaudem illam religionem se- 
 
LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 797 
 
 qiientes uLique salvos et incolumes prsestat, summe 
 consentaneum, a majestate vestra, ut par est, non pos- 
 sumus quin expectemus. Qute bac siniiil opera, 
 cum universes per sua regna Protestantes, quorum 
 studium ere^a vos summaque fides maximis in rebus 
 perspecta jam saspe et cognita est, arctius sibi de- 
 vinxerit, tum exteris etiam omnibus persuasum red- 
 diderit, nihil ad hoc facinus contulisse regis con- 
 silium, quicquid ministri regii atque prsefecti con- 
 tulerunt. Prsesertim si majestas vestra pocnas ab iis 
 ducibus ac ministris debitas repetiverit, qui authoritate 
 propria, suaque pro libidine, tam immania patrare 
 scelera sunt ausi. Interea cum majestas vestra factum 
 hoc inbunianissimum, quo dignum est odio, aversari se 
 testetur, non dubito quin miseris illis atque lerumnosis 
 ad vos confugientibus, tutissimum in regno suo recep- 
 tuni atque perfugium sit priebitura; nee subditorum 
 suorum cuiquam, ut contra eos duci Allobrogum aux- 
 ilio adsit, pcrmissura. Extremum illud est, ut majes- 
 tatera vcstram, quanti apud me sua amicitia sit, certi- 
 oneni faciam : Cujus rei neque fructum uilo tempore 
 defuturum confirmo. 
 Alba Aula, Julii Majestatis vestrtE studiosissimus, 
 
 29, 1655. Oliverius Prot. Reip. Anglite, &c. 
 
 « 
 
 Eminentissimo Domino Cardinali Mazarino. 
 
 Eminentissime Domine Cardinalis ; 
 Cum nobilem banc virum cum literis, quarum exem- 
 plar hie inclusum est, ad regem mittere necessarium 
 statuissem, tum ei, ut eminentiaiu vestram nieo nomine 
 salutarct, simul in mandatis dedi, cerlasque res vobis- 
 cum communicandas ejus fidei commisi: Quibus in 
 rebus cuiincntiam rogo vestram, uti summam ei fidcm 
 habere velit, utpote in quo ego summam fiduciam re- 
 posuerim. 
 Alba Aula, Julii Eminentiae vestra; studiosissimus, 
 29, 1655. Oliverius, Prot. Reipub. Angliae. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Avylice, Serenissinio Prin- 
 dpi Frederico III. Danite, Norwvgice, <^r. Regi, 
 Saint em. 
 
 QuAM severo nuper et inclementi edicto, Allobrogum 
 dux Inimanuel suos ipse subditos Alpinarum vallium 
 incolas, innoxios homines et religionis cultu purioris 
 jam nuiltis ab seculis iiotos ac celebres, religionis causa 
 finibus patriis exegerit, et, occisis permultis, rcliquos 
 per ilia desertissinia loca malis omnibus et miseriis in- 
 opes ac nudos exposuerit, et audisse janidudum arbi- 
 trannir majestatem vestram, et gravissimum ex ea re, 
 prout tantum reformatae fidei defensorem ac principem 
 decuit, dolorem percepisse. Siquidem pro institutis 
 christianse religionis quae mala atque miserias pai-s ali- 
 qua nostrorum patitur, earum sensu penitus eodem 
 tangi omnes debemus ; et sane omnibus nobis et uni- 
 verso Protestantium nomini hujus facti eventus atque 
 uxemplum, quid periculi ostendat, tiemo vestra majes- 
 tate, si nos ejus pietatem atque prudentiam recte novi- 
 mus, melius videt. Scripsimus itaque libcnter, ut 
 qMcm dolorem ob banc fratrum innoccntissiraorum ca- 
 
 lamitatem, quam sententiam, quod judicium de re tota 
 vestrum esse speramus, idem plan^ et nostrum essesig- 
 nificemus. Itaque ad ducem Sabaudiae literas dedi- 
 mus, in quibus uti miseris atque supplicibus parcat, 
 illudque atrox edictum porro esse ratum ne sinat, mag- 
 nopere ab eo petivimus. Quod si majestas vestra ccete 
 rique reformatorum principes fecerint, ut jam fecisse 
 credimus, spes est leniri posse serenissimi ducis animum, 
 et banc iram suam tot saltern vicinorum principum in- 
 tercessioni atque instantice condonaturuni ; sin perse- 
 verare in institute suo maluerit, paratos nos esse tes- 
 tamur, cum majestate vestra, caeterisque religionis re- 
 formatce sociis, earn inire rationem, qua tot miserorum 
 bominum subvenirc quaniprimum inopiae, providere 
 saluti ac libertati, pro virili parte nostra possimus. 
 Vestrae interea majestati bona omnia atque i'austa a 
 Deo Opt. Max. precarour. 
 Westmonasterio, Maio, 1655. 
 
 Oliverius Prot. Reipub. Anglice, ^-c. Amplissimis 
 Co7isulibus et Senatoribus Civitatis Geneveiisis, Sa- 
 lutem. 
 
 Sum MUM dolorem nostrum quern ex maximis ei 
 inauditis Protestantium calamitatibus valles quasdam 
 Pedemontanas incolentium percepimus, quos Allobro- 
 gum dux tanta crudelitate persequutus est, jampridem 
 vobis exposuissemus, nisi id magis operam dedissemus, 
 ut eodem tempore intelligeretis tantis eorum miseriis 
 non afiici nos solum, verum etiam de sublevandis iis 
 atque solandis, quantum in nobis est, prospicere. 
 Quapropter eleemosynas per banc totam rempublicam 
 colligendas curavimus : quas ejusmodi fore baud ini- 
 merilo expectamus, quae nationis hujus aflfectum erga 
 fratres suos tam immania perpessos demonstrarc pos- 
 sint, et quemadmodum religionis eadera utrinque com- 
 niunio est, ita sensum quoque eundem calamitatum 
 esse; interea dum pecuniip collectio maturatur, quod 
 sine spatio temporis fieri nequit, et miserorum istorum 
 egestas atque inopia pati moram non potest, necessa- 
 rium duximus duo millia librarum Anglicarum, quanta 
 fieri potuit celeritate, prasmittere inter eos distribuenda 
 qui prfEsentissima ope atque solatio indigere maximd 
 videbuntur. Cum autem nescii non simus innocentis- 
 simorum bominum miseria; atque injurioe quantopere 
 vos affecerint, nee vobis quicquam labori aut molestiae* 
 fore quod illis adjumento atque auxilio esse possit, 
 praedictam pecunite summam illis calamitosis curan- 
 dam ac numerandam ad vos transferre non dubitavimus ; 
 idque vobis negotii dare, ut pro vestra pietate ac pru- 
 dentia providere velitis qua ratione aquissima quam 
 primum ilia pecunia egentissimis quibusque distribui 
 queat, ut quamvis summa sane exigua sit, aliqnid 
 tamen sit saltem, quo iili inopes recreari ac refici in 
 praesens aliquantum possint, donee uberiorem iis co- 
 piam suppeditare poterimus : vos banc vobis datam 
 molestiam aequi bonique consulturos esse cum non 
 dubitemus, turn etiam Deum Opt. Max. oramus, uti 
 populo suo religionem orthodoxam profitenti det ani- 
 niura sui in commune defendendi, sibique mutuo opem 
 fereudi contra hostes suos immanissimos ; qua in re 
 
708 
 
 LITERiE OLIVERII PROTECTORTS. 
 
 nostram quoque operam eccleslee utcunque usui furc 
 Itetaremur. Vuletc. 
 
 Mille quiiigentte librce de praedictis 
 
 bis niillibus a Gernrdo Hcnsh 
 
 Junii 8, 1655. Parisiis, quinjfentte rcliquue per 
 
 litcras a Domino Stoupio, cura- 
 
 buntur. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, Serenissimo 
 Principi Venetiantm Duci. 
 
 Serenissiine Princepp; 
 
 Cum rebus vestris omnibus contra hoslem praesertim 
 christiani nominis prospere gesiis laetari semper con- 
 suevimus, turn et illo navalis pralii novissimo successu 
 ucquaquam san^ dolemus, quamvis id aliquo nostro- 
 rum cum dctrimento accidisse intelligamus. Ostend- 
 erunt cnim nobis, per libelhim supplicem, negfotiatores 
 quidani nostri, Gulielmus et Daniel Gulielmi necnon 
 Edoardus Bcalus, naveui suam, cui nomen Princeps 
 Magnus, Constantinopolini ab se oommercii causa, 
 missam nuper fuisse : earn navem ab aulae Turcicae 
 ininistris ad commeatum et niilites in Cretam insulara 
 dcportandos retcntam, dnm in ilia classe Turcarum 
 coacta eo navigaret, quae a classe Venetorum oppug- 
 nata in itinere et superata est, captam et Venetias 
 abductam, ab maritimarum causarum judicibus adjudi- 
 catam publico fuisse. Cum itaque, inscientibus domi- 
 nis et nullo niodo probantibus, navis ilia Turcis operam 
 dare invitissima coacta sit, seque ex ea pugna expli- 
 care militibus referta non potuerit; serenitatem ves- 
 tram raagn(»pere rogamus, ut sententiam illam mari- 
 timte curiae velit nostrse amicitiap condonare.navemque 
 illam suis dominis, de vestra republica nullo sue facto 
 male mentis, restituendam curare. Qua in re impe- 
 tranda, nobis prtesertim petentibus, cum mercatores 
 ipsos de vestra dementia bene sperare videamus, nos 
 utique de ea dubitare non debemus : qui et praeclara 
 vestra concilia remque Venetam terra marique maxime 
 uti pergat fortunare Deus omnipotens ex animo op- 
 tamus. 
 
 Serenitatis vestroe Venetoeqne Reip. studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angliae, &c. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Decemb. 1655. 
 
 •Oliverius Prot. Reip. Anglia, ^c. Serenissimo Prin- 
 cipi LuDOVico Galliarum Reyi. 
 
 Serenissime Rex; 
 Mercatores aliquot nostrates, quorum nomina sunt 
 Samuel Mico, Gulielmus Cocainus, Georgius Poy- 
 nenis, aliique complures, per libellum supplicem 
 nobis ostenderunt se, anno 1650, in navem quandam, 
 cui insigne unicomus erat, permagnas rationes suas 
 contulisse: earn navem bombycc, oleo, aliisque mcr- 
 cibus onustam, quae, plus minus, triginta quatuor niilli- 
 bus librarum nostrarum ab iisdcni xstimata sunt, ab 
 nave pnetoria et propreetoria majestatis vestrae in Medi- 
 terraneo Mari Orientali opprcssam atque captam fuisse : 
 nostros autcm ilia in navi, proptcrea quod nobis eo 
 tempore cum Gallis illibata pax erat, cum contra naves 
 
 regias vi se defendere noluissent, promissis Pauli et 
 Tcrrerii navarchorum inductos, qui velle se nostros 
 dimittere aiebant, prolatis oneruni libelliii, niariliniis 
 legibus paruisse : mercatores proinde supra diclos pro- 
 curatorem suum, qui navem illam ac bona restituenda 
 sibi peteret, in Galliam misisse : ibi post triennium 
 coquc amplius consumptum, cum ad sententiam de re- 
 stitutionc ferendam perventura jam csset, cardinalis 
 Mazarini emincntiam eorum procuratori Uugoni Mo- 
 rello factam mercatoribus istis iujuriam agnovisse ; 
 datumquc iri satisfactionem, ut primiim confirmata 
 pax inter utramque gentem, foedusque, quod tum agi- 
 tahatur, confectum atque ratum esset, in se recepisse : 
 imnio recentius majestatis vestrae aj)ud nos legatum 
 excellentissimum dominum de Bordeaux, ex mandate 
 vestro vestrique concilii, disertis verbis confirmasse, 
 hujus navis atque bonorum peculiari exceptione ha- 
 bituni iri rationem, etiam seorsim ab iis controversiis, 
 de quibus in commune decidendis ex foedere provisum 
 est: hujus proniissi legatum ipsum, qui nunc percom- 
 mode negotiorum quorundam suorum causa ad vo» 
 transmeavit, testem esse posse locupletem. Quce cum 
 ita sunt, jusque horum mercatorum in repetendis rebus 
 suis tani pricclare constet, a majestate vestra majorem 
 in tnodum petimus, ut in eo obtinendo nulla iis mora 
 diutiiis afferatur, velitque nostro rogatu has nobis 
 redintegratae amicitiae et instaurati recens foederis esse 
 primitias. Quod et fore confidimus, vobisquc fausta 
 omnia vestroque regno a Deo Opt. Max. precamur. 
 Westmonaxterio, Majestatis vestroR studiosissimus, 
 Decemb. 1655. Oliverius Prot. Reip. Angliae, &c. 
 
 Civitatibus Helvetiorum Evangelicis. 
 
 Ex vestris ad nos tam actis publicis per commissarios 
 nostros Geneva transmissis, quam Uteris 27 Decembris 
 Tyguri datis, quo in loco res vestrte sint, cum non siut 
 optinio, satis superque intelligimus : Tn quo etsi pacem 
 vestram, tamquc diuturnum sociale foedus ruptum, dole- 
 mus, tamen cum id vestra culpa nequaquam accidisse 
 iippareat, novam bine vobis ex adversariorum iniquitate 
 et pertinacia illustrandse fortitudinis, constanticeque 
 vestrtE in evangelica fide jam olim cognitae, parari 
 rursus materiem confidimus. Nam Stiitenses, qui, rc- 
 ligionem nostram si quis amplectatur, capitale censent, 
 quid moliantur, quibus hortatoribus tam hostiles spiritus 
 in orthodoxam religionem susceperint, latere neminera 
 potest, cui modo iiidignissima ilia fratrum nostioriim 
 in Pedemontio facta strages animo nondum excidit. 
 Quapropter, dilectissimi amici, quod soletis esse, aspi- 
 rante Deo fortes estote; jura vestra atque foedera, immo 
 conscientiie libertatem, religionemque ipsam idolorum 
 cultoribus obculcandam, concedere nolite; vosque ita 
 paratc, ut non propria; duntaxat liberfatis atque salutis 
 propugnatores esse vidcainiiii, sed ut fratribus quoque 
 vicinis, Pedcmontanis pnrscrtim illis n?rnmnosissiiiiis, 
 quibus potcstis rebus, opitulari atque adcsse possitis: 
 hoc certo pcrsuasi per illorum corpora ac neces ad ves- 
 tra latera ilium nuper aditum fuisse patefactum. Dc 
 me scitotc, incoluniitatem vestram resque prospcras non 
 minus mihi curoc ac solicitudini esse, quam si in hac 
 
LITERjE oliverii protectoris. 
 
 799 
 
 nostra Rep. coortum hoc incendium, quam si in nos- 
 tras cervices expeditte Suitensiiim secures illae (sicuti 
 revera sunt in omnes reformatos) strictique enses essent. 
 Ut primura itaque a vobis de statu rerum vestrarum, et 
 obstinato hostium animo, certiores facti sumus, adhibitis 
 in concilium viris quibusdam honestissimis, etecclesise 
 aliquot ministris pietate spectatissimis, de subsidio 
 vobis mittendo, quantum quidem rationes nostrce in 
 prtesentia ferre possunt, ea decrevimus, quae commissa- 
 rius noster Pellus vobiscum communicabit. De csetcro 
 vestra omnia consilia, causamque imprimis banc ves- 
 tram justissimam sive pace sive bcllo tuendam, Deo 
 Opt. Max. fautori commendare non desinimus. 
 
 Vestrarum amplitudinum ac dig- 
 Westmonasterin, nitatum studiosissimus, 
 
 Jan. 1655. Oliverius Prot. Reip. Angliee, &c. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Auglice, Sfc. Serenissimo 
 Principi Carolo Gustavo, Dei Gratia Suecorum, 
 Gothorum, Vandalorumque Regi, Magno Principi 
 Finlandia, ^c. 
 
 Serenissime Rex ; 
 
 Cum amicorum inter se mutua omnia, tarn advcrsa 
 quam prospera, atque communia debere esse nemo non 
 intelligat, quod jucundissimam amicitiae partem majes- 
 tas vestra, gaudium ncmpe suum impertitum nobis, per 
 suas literas volucrit, non potest id quidem nobis non 
 esse longe gratissimum : quandoquidcm et hoc singu- 
 laris indicium humanitatis vercque regise est, ut nee 
 vivere, ita ne gaudere quidem sihi soli velle nisi amicns 
 quoque et fccderatos eadem, qua se, loetitia affectos esse 
 sentiat. Itaque regi tarn priestanti et natuni esse filium 
 principem, quem paternce virtutis atque glorise spere- 
 mus hoeredem, mcrito gaudemus, et idem quod regi 
 olim fortissimo, Philippe Macedoni, sive felicitatis sive 
 decoris, domi simul ct foris, contigissc gratulamur : 
 Cui eodem tempore et natus Alexander filius, et lUyri- 
 corum gens potentissima subacta, memoratur. Nam et 
 Polonioe regnum vestris armis ab impcrio papano, quasi 
 cornu quoddam, avulsum, et cum duce Brandenburgico 
 pax piorum votis omnium exoptata, frendentibus licet 
 adversariis, facta, quin ad ecclesise pacem atque fruc- 
 tum permagnum sit momentum habitura non dubita- 
 mus. Det modo finem Deus tam pra^claris initiis dig- 
 num ; det modo filium, virtute, pietate, rebusque gestis 
 patri similem: id quod et auguramur sane, et a Deo 
 Opt. Max. tam vestris rebus jam ante propitio, ex ani- 
 mo precaniur. 
 Westmonasterio, MajestatLs vestrte studiosissimus, 
 
 Feb. 1655. Oliverius Prot. Reip. Angliae, &c. 
 
 Dania Regi. 
 
 Serenissime ac potentissime Princeps ; 
 Questi sunt per libellum supplicem, suo aliorumque 
 mercatorum Londinensium nomine nobis exhibitum, 
 Joannes Fremannus et Philippus Travesius, hujus reip. 
 cives, se circiter mensem Octobris 1653, cum in navem 
 quandam Sunderburgensem, cui nomen Salvatori, Ni- 
 colao Weinshinks magistro, merces varias, panuum 
 
 laneum, aliamque vestem textilem ac mercimonia plus 
 tribus millibus librarum apstimata imposuissent, magis- 
 tro mandasse, ut per fretum Balticum recto cursu Dan- 
 tiscum navigaret, utque ad Elsenorum vectigal solveret, 
 eique etiam pecuniam ad eam rem curasse : supradictum 
 tamen magistrum perfidiose, et contra quam ipsi a merca- 
 toribus mandatum erat, prsetervectum Elsenorum nullo 
 portorio soluto Balticum pernavigasse. Navisque per 
 banc causam cum toto onere, non sine magno mercato- 
 rum damno, publicata atque retenta est. Quorum in 
 gratiam jampridem ad legatum majestatis vestra;, Lon- 
 dini tunc temporis commorantem, scripsimus; qui, ut 
 ipsi aiunt, pollicitus est, ut primum ad majestatem 
 vestram rediisset, daturum operam, uti ratio mercato- 
 rum liaberetur. Verum cum is postea aliis in regioni- 
 bus majestatis vestrae negotia obiret, et ante discessum 
 ejus et postea frustra se eum adiise ostendunt: unde 
 procuratorem suum mittere coacti sunt, qui jus suum 
 Hafnite persequeretur, navemque illam ac bona liberari, 
 sibique reddi, ilagitaret: verum exinde nullum se fruc- 
 tum percepisse, nisi ut ad damna vctera novas impen- 
 sas, et susceptum frustra laborem, adjungerent : cum 
 fisco damnata, ct letenta hactenus sint bona, tametsi 
 ex lege Danitp, quemadmodum ipsi in libello suo de- 
 monstrant, magister quidem navis ob suum delictum 
 est ipse puniendus, navisque, non bona proscriptioni 
 sunt obnoxia : eoque gravius accidisse sibi hoc malum 
 existiniant, quod, sicuti nobis perlatum est, vectigal 
 illud, quod Elsenortc solvere debuisset, est adinodum 
 exiguum. Quapropter, cum mercatores nostri nullam 
 proscriptioni causam proebuisse videantur, confessusque 
 ipse magister paulo ante obitum sit, suo solum delicto 
 illatum hoc mercatoribus detrimentum esse, cumque 
 pater defuncti jam magistri ipse per libellum supplicem 
 majestati vestrte exhibitum, sicuti nos accepimus, cul- 
 pam omnem in filium suum contulerit, mercatores absol- 
 verit, baud sane potuimus quin navis illius bonorumque 
 retentionem iniquissimam esse arbitraremur; adeoque 
 confidimus, simulatque majestas vestra hac de re certior 
 facta erit, fore ut non modo has ministrorum suorum in- 
 jurias improbet, verum etiam ipsos rationem reddere, 
 bonaqueillasuisdominisecrumveprocuratoribusquam- 
 primum restitui, damnaque inde data sarciri, jubeat. 
 Quod et nos a majestate vestra majorem in modum pe- 
 tiinus, utpote rem usque adeo oequam et rationi consen- 
 taneam, ut requiorem petere aut expectare in causa 
 tam justa nostrorura civium non posse videamur, baud 
 minus tEqua vestris subditis, quoties data occasio erit, 
 reddituri. 
 
 Serenissimo Principi Joanni Quarto Lusitaniee, ^c. 
 Regi. 
 
 Serenissime Rex ; 
 Quam pacem et amicitiam cum Anglicana republica 
 majestas vestra, Icgatione amplissima ac splendidissiraa 
 jampridem ad nos missa, expetivit, eam a parlamento, 
 quae tum potestas rebus praefuit, inchoatam, et a nobis 
 summo semper studio exoptatam, Deo imprimis fa- 
 vente, proque ea quam accepimus reipublicte adminis- 
 tratione, feliciter tandem confecimus, et in perpetuum, 
 
800 
 
 LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 mi spes est, sanximus. Itaque Icg-atum vestrum ex- 
 traordinarium dotninum, Joannera Rodericum de Saa 
 Meneses, comitem Pennaguiadamini, virum cum ma- 
 jestatis vestrae judicio comprobatum, turn huinanitate, 
 ingcnio, prudentia, fide, prcestantissimurn a nobis re- 
 pertum, cum expleti muneris egregia laude, et reportata 
 secum pace, vobis reddimus. Quod autem, per literas 
 secundo die Aprilis Uljssipone datas, majestas vestra 
 quanti nos faciat, quamque impens^ dig^nitati nostrse 
 faveat, nosque rempublicam suscepisse gubernandam 
 quantopere Isetata sit, baud obscuris indiciis singularis 
 benevolentiee testatur, id vero mihi gratissimum esse, 
 ex meis in majestatem vestram paratissimis omni tem- 
 pore officiis, dabo operam ut facild posthac omnes in- 
 telligant. Neque segiiius interea pro incolumitate 
 vestra, vestrique reg^ii felici statu, rerumque prospero 
 successu, coDceptis ad Deum precibus contendo. 
 Majestatis vestree studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius Reipub. Angliae, Scotise, 
 Hiberuiae, &c. Protector. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, Sfc. Excelsis et 
 Prcepotentibus Fcederati Belgii OrdinibuSy S. D. 
 
 Exceisi et praepotentes Domini, amici charissimi ; 
 
 OsTENDUNT nobis mercatores quidam, cives nostri, 
 Thomas Busselus, Richardus Bearus, aliique socii, na- 
 vem quandam suam, Edmundi et Joannis nomine in- 
 signitam, dum ab ora Brasiliana Oljssiponem conten- 
 deret, ab navi quadam proedatoria Flissengensi, cui 
 nomen Rubro Leoni, magister Lambertus Bartelsonus, 
 oppugnatam se dedidisse; verum ea lege et pacto (id 
 quod ipsum Lamberti chirographum obsignatum testa- 
 bitur) ut navis, et quaecuuque in ilia fuissent Anglorura 
 bona, Flissingae restituerentur : eo cum appulsum est, 
 navem quidem et nauticorum peculia reddita, merca- 
 torum Anglicorum bona adempta, eorumque auctionem 
 statim esse factam : se, mercatores nempe quibus hoc 
 damni datum est, cum in foro Flissingensium suas res 
 repeterent, iniquissima sententia lata, litem cum gran- 
 dibus impensis post quinquennium perdidisse, ab iis 
 nimirum judicibus abjudicatam, quorum nonnulli, cum 
 in ilia navi prsedatoria suas rationes collatas habuissent, 
 et judices et adversarii et rei simul erant: nihil jam 
 sibi superesse spei nisi in vestra eequitateet incorrupta 
 fide, ad quam nunc demum coufugiunt : cam sibi fore 
 propensiorem existimarunt, si nostra commendatio ac- 
 cessisset. Et bominibus condonandum hoc sane est, 
 si in hac tanta fortunarum suarum dimicatione omnia 
 timentibus, quid ab summa auctoritate atque potentia 
 vestra sibi metuendum, quam quid apud integros prae- 
 sertim judices de sua causa sit bene sperandum,saepius 
 in mentem veniat: nos quin religione, justitia, inte- 
 gritate vestra potius quam rogatu nostro adducti, quod 
 fequum, quod justum, quod vobis denique dignum est 
 judicaturi sitis, non dubitamus. Deus vos vestramqtie 
 rempub. ad gloriam suam, susequeecclesiae presidium, 
 conservet ! 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angliee, &c. 
 Westmonatterio, April. 1, 1656. 
 
 Oliveri(}S Protector Reipub. Angliee, Sfc. Serenitsimo 
 Principi Carolo Gustavo, Suecorum, Gothorum, 
 Vandalor unique Reffi, Mayno Principi Finlanditr^ 
 Duct Esthonice, Careliee, BrenuB, Vcrda, Stetini, 
 Pomerania, Cassubia et Vandaliee, Principi Rugia, 
 Domino Ingria, Wismarite, necnon Comiti Palatino 
 Rheni, Bavaria, Jul. Clivias et Montium Duci, Sfc. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps ; 
 
 Perfunctus legatione sua apud nos Petrus Julius 
 Coictus, atque ita perfunctus ut sua debita laude non 
 inornatus a nobis dimittendus sit, ad majestatem ves- 
 tram revertitur. Fuit enim cum vestro proecipue nomine, 
 quod jure apud nos plurimi esse debet, nobis gratissi- 
 mus, turn suo etiam merito, suo nempe munere diligen- 
 tissime obito, baud parum acceptus. Quam igitur 
 commendationem vestram de eo accepimus, eam (si 
 quid ad eam accedere testimonio uUo potest) et ab ipso 
 impletam, et a vobis meritissim^ datam, libentes utique 
 testamur: quemadmodum et is poterit nostrum erga 
 majestatem vestram singulare studium et observantiam, 
 eadem fide atque integritate ad vos referre, verissimeque 
 exponere, Extremura illud est ut majestati vestrae 
 felicitatem omnem victoriarumque cursum contra omnes 
 hostes ecclesise perpetuum, a Deo Opt. Maximoque 
 optemus. 
 
 Majestatis vestree studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius, Protector Reip. Angliae, &c. 
 
 Westmonasterio, April. 17, 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, ^c. Serenissimo ac 
 potentissimo Principi LuDovico Gallia Regi, S. D. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps ; 
 Adierunt ad nos, per libellum supplicem, Joannes 
 Dethic urbis Londini in hunc annum praefectus, et 
 Gulielmus Wakefield mercator, conquesti, se anno 
 1649, Calendas circiter Octob. navem quandam, cui 
 nomen Jonce Londinensi, Jona quoque cognomento 
 Lighthaghe magistro, suis mercibus, quae Ostendam 
 mitterentur, onerasse : eam navem a prtedone quodam 
 Barkingensi, cui nomen White, (is filii regis Carolt 
 defuncti nomine piraticam faciebat,) in ipso Thamesis 
 ostio oppressam, atque inde Duiikirkam, qute eo tem- 
 pore in ditione Gallorum erat, fuisse abductam : cum 
 autem edicto majestatis vestrse ann. 1647, et ann. rursus 
 1649, aliquot etiam consilii regii decretis, iu gratiam 
 parlamenti Anglicani, cautum esse intelligerent, ne 
 naves uUce aut merces, illius belli tempore, quoquo 
 obtentu Anglis ereptae, in majestatis vestrae portus 
 quoscunque asportarentur, vcnalesve esscnt, misisse se 
 statim Dunkirkam procuratorem suum, Hugonem 
 Morellura negotiatorem, qui a domino Lestrado, illius 
 oppidi per id tempus proefecto, reddi sibi suam navem 
 cum mercibus postularet, cum eas praeserlim magna ex 
 parte adhuc intcgras, neque dum permutatas aut diven- 
 ditas, iu ipso oppido deprehendisset. Respondit prae- 
 fectus, se regis Galliee dono, ob navatam reipub. operam, 
 prafecturam earn accepisse : curaturum proinde, uti ea 
 sibi pretium opcric sit. Hoc response frustratus, post 
 
LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS, 
 
 801 
 
 magnum cum temporis turn pecuniae dispendium, pro- 
 curator domum revertitur. Petitores, quse. restat sibi 
 spes, earn in vestra sola dementia atque justitia reposi- 
 tam esse vident; ad quam per nostras literas faciliorem 
 sibi aditum fore crediderunt: ea ne desit hominibus, 
 contra jus omne et repetita vestra interdicta spoliatis, 
 rogamus. Quod tamen si impetrabimus, quandoquidem 
 hoc san6 eequissimum videtur, ab insita aquitate 
 vestra, potius quam rogatu nostro, impetratum id esse 
 statuemus. 
 
 Majestatis vestrse studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius, Protector Reip. Anglioe, &c. 
 Weslmonasterio, Maio, 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. A nglice, i^-c. Excelsis et prcB- 
 potentibus Dominis Fcederati Belgii Ordinibus, S. D. 
 
 Excelsi et pnepotentes Domini, amici charissimi ; 
 
 Demonstrarunt nobis, per libcllumsupplicem, Joan- 
 nes Brunus, Nicolaus Gulielmus, aliique Londinenses, 
 se, cum in navem, cui Bome Esperantzae Londinensi 
 nomen inditum erat, in Orientalcm Indiam navigatu- 
 ram, sortem quisque suam contulisset, procuratori suo 
 negotium dedisse Februario mense 1644, ut bis mille 
 quadringentaslibras Belgicasad illiusnavis periculum 
 proBstandum Amsterodami curaret : ea navis cum in 
 itinere, ad oram ipsam Tndiae, ab Hollandica quadam, 
 quae ex navibus orientalis illius societatis erat, capta 
 esset ; qui propstando periculo se obligaverant, pactam 
 pecuniam numerare recusasse ; et sextum jam annum 
 posse nostros, qui summa cum assiduitate maximisquc 
 impensis jus suum persecuti sunt, dilationibus variis 
 eludcre. Quod cum petitoribus grave admodum atque 
 iniquum videatur, et nonnulli ex iis qui se obligarunt 
 vel jam diem obierint vel solvendo non sint, nequid 
 fort^ ad priora damnasummi discriminisaccedat, mag- 
 nopere a vobis petimus, ut per totannos in foro jactatis 
 ac proprie naufragis istis vestram aequitatcm portum 
 esse atque perfugium vclitis; utqucde causa sua, quam 
 illi justissimam esse confidunt, primo quoque tempore 
 judicium fiat. Vobis interim omnia ad Dei gloriam, 
 ecclesiaeque presidium, fauste atque feliciter evenire 
 volumus. 
 
 Excelsarum et pnepotentium dominationum 
 vestrarum studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius, Prot. Reip. Anglic, &c. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Maio, 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angli(B, Sfc. Excelsis et 
 jn-eepotentibus Dominis Fcederati Belgii Ordiiiibus, 
 S.D. 
 
 Excelsi et prsepotentes Domini, amici charissimi ; 
 
 CoNQUERUNTUR apud nos graviter iidem, de quibus 
 antea circa idus Septemb. superioris anni literas ad vos 
 dedimus, Thomas et Gulielmus Lower, defuncti Nicho- 
 lai Lower hoeredes legitimi, se advcrsariorum suorum 
 sive gratia, sive opibus oppressos, quamvis causa sua 
 imprimis optima, et, cum id satis non esset. Uteris etiam 
 nostris ter deinceps commendati fuissent, impetrare 
 hactcnus nullo modo posse ut relictam testamento 
 
 hfereditatem adire sibi liceat : Ab Hollandise foro, ubi 
 primum actio instituta erat, vestram ad curiam rejecti, 
 inde in Zelandiam transmissi, (quae tria in loca totidem 
 nostras literas attulerunt,) ab Zelandia nunc rursus ad 
 vestrum sumraum judicium baud inviti remittuntur: 
 ubi enim potestas summa est, ibi cequitatem quoque 
 summam esse sperant: si ea spes fallat, elusi atque 
 irriti, post banc tantam juris obtinendi causa concursa- 
 tionem suam, quem demum consistendi locum habituri 
 sint, nesciunt : nam de Uteris nostris, si hisjamquartis 
 nos viderint nihil proficere, non est ut in posterum quic- 
 quam sibi poUiceantur. Nobis cert6 gratissimum erit, 
 si post tot rejectiones, facto sine mora judicio, hseredes 
 plurimum quidem in tequitate atque justitia vestra, ali- 
 quid etiam in authoritate apud vos nostra proesidii sibi 
 fuisse intellexerint.' Quorum de altero non dubitamus, 
 alterum vel amicitiee nostree daturos vos esse confi- 
 dimus. 
 
 Excelsarum et prtepotentium dominationum 
 vestrarum studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Anglioe, &c. 
 Weslmonasterio, Maio, 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Angliee, ifc. Serenissimo 
 Principi Joanni Lusitaniee Regi. 
 
 Serenissime Rex; 
 
 Cum mercatoribus quibusdam Anglis, a nonnullis 
 mercatoribus Lusitanis ex societate Brasiliensi, vecturae 
 commorationisque nomine, ann. 1649, et 1650, grandis 
 pecunia debeatur, qute pecunia a supradicta societate 
 jussu majestatis vestrae retinetur, expectabant quidem 
 dicti mercatores uti ea pecunia ex conditionibus prox- 
 imi ftederis jampridem sibi numerata esset. Verum ne 
 amputetur sibi spes omnis ac ratio recuperandi sua de- 
 bita verentur, ex quo intelligunt statuisse majestatem 
 vestram ut quam pecuniam Brasiliensis societas ipsis 
 debuisset in peranum vestrum inferretur, utque portorii 
 dimidia pars solvendis iis debitis impenderetur; atque 
 hoc pacto mercatores legitimum duntaxat lucrum, sive 
 focnus pecunite suae, accepturi essent ; ipsa forte interim 
 funditus intereunte. Quod nos nobiscum reputantes 
 quam durum sit, eorumque justissimis precibus victi, 
 las nostras ad majestatem vestram literas ipsis con- 
 cessimus: hoc potissimum a vobis postulantes, uti 
 praestandum curetis, ut supradicta societas Brasili- 
 ensis hujus reipub. mercatoribus quamprimum satis- 
 faciat, tarn de summa pecuniae cuique eorum debita, 
 quam de foenore quinquennali : cum hoc et per se jus- 
 tum sit, et foederi nuper vobiscum inito consentancum : 
 quod et nos corum nomine a raajestate vestra peramicd 
 petimus. 
 
 Majestatis vestree studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius Prot. Reip. Anglise, &c. 
 
 Ex palatio nostro Westmonasterio, 
 die Julii, 1656. 
 
803 
 
 LITERJi: OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 Oliterius Protector Reip. Auglice, Sfc. Seretiissimo 
 Principi Cauolo Gustavo, Suecorum, .Gothorum, 
 Vatidalorumque Regiy Sec. 
 
 Serenissime Rex ; 
 
 Cum aniicitiam majestatis vestrae, -tanti priucipis rc- 
 busque gestis tam clari, merito pluriini f'acianius, turn 
 is, cuj us opera feed us inter iios arctissimuui sancitum est, 
 illustrissimus domiuus Christieriius Bondus, legatus 
 vester extraordinarius necesse est gratus nobis et com- 
 niendabilis hoc nomine imprimis fucrit. Ilunc itaque 
 hac legatione laudatissim6 pcrfunctum, non sine sunima 
 caeterarum etiam virtutum egregiarum laude, ad vos 
 dimittendum censuimus: ut qui antea in pretio apud 
 vus atque honore fuit, nunc uberiores assiduitatis atque 
 prudentiffi sua; fructus ex hac nostra commcndatione 
 percepisse se scntiat. Quje reliqua transigenda sunt, de 
 iis Jegationcni brevi mittendam ad majestatem vcstram 
 decrevimus: quam interim Deus incolumem defendendae 
 ecclesisb suae reique Sueciffi columen conservet. 
 
 Majestatis vestrte studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius Prot. Reip, Angliee, &c. 
 
 Ex palatio nostro Westmonasterii^ 
 Julii A71. Dom. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Aitglia, ^c. Serenissimo 
 Principi Ludovico Gallice Regi, S. D. 
 
 Serenissime Rex, amice ac federate charissime ; 
 
 Detulerunt ad nos, per libellum supplicem, mer- 
 catores quidam Londinenses, Richardus Baker ejusque 
 socii, navem quandam Anglicanam ab se conductam, 
 cui nomen vemaculura The Endeavour, magister Gu- 
 lielmus Joppus, trccentis atque tredecim vini optimi 
 culeis ex Tenariffa insula Londinum advehendis onus- 
 tarn, dum inter PaJmam et supradictam insulam cur- 
 sum teneret, a quatuor navibus Gallicis, in speciem 
 quidem onerariis, sed praedatorium in modura armatis, 
 quibus ^gidius de la Roche navarchus erat, primo ac 
 vigesimo Novembris die. An. Dom. 1655, occupatam 
 fuisse, atque in Orientalem Indiam, quo is iter sibi 
 esse preedicabat, cum omni onere ac plerisque nautarum 
 abductam ; reliquis quatuordecim ad Guineam Nigri- 
 tarum in littus quoddam cxpositis. Quod eo consiliu 
 jEgidius fecisse se dictitabat, ncquis eorum, ex terra 
 tam longinqua et inhumana forte elapsus, testimonio 
 luederet. Fatebatur enim, se neque mandatis instructum, 
 ut Anglorum naves caperet, neque alias quas poterat 
 antea cepisse, ut propterea quod inter Gallos nostram- 
 que remp. per eos ipsos dies convenisse pacem non ig- 
 norabat: sed cum in Portugallia constitutum sibi esset 
 commeatus accipere, et ab adversis ventis rejectus at- 
 tingere ea loca non potuisset, coactum se, ad suppleu- 
 dum quae opus sibi essent, iis uti qute in ista nave re- 
 peri&set : credere se proinde, illarum iiavium domlnos 
 de damno satisfacturos. Damnum autcm constat supra 
 sedecim mille libras Anglicas, id quod ex juratis tcsti- 
 bus facile apparebit, mercatoribus nostris datum. Ve- 
 riim si tam Icvibus dc causis temerare acta principuni 
 rciigiosissima, ct quasi ludibrio habere, negotiatoribus 
 
 quibusvis ob sua commoda licuerit, concidet profccto 
 omnis posthac fcedcrum sanctitas, omnis principuni fides 
 atque authoritas obsolescet, proque nihilo habebitur. 
 Quapropter non rogamus tantum, sed majestatis ves- 
 trae quam niaxime interesse arbitramur, ut qui regis 
 sui foedus, jusque jurandum sanctissimum, primi om- 
 nium tam facile viulare sunt ausi, quamprimum dent 
 poenas tantae pcrfidiac atque audacice debitas; utque 
 illarum interea navium domini de damno, etiam ipso 
 suoriim prtpjudicio, mercatoribus nostris summam per 
 injuriam illato, satisfaciant. Deus majestatem vestram 
 diutissime conservet, remque Gallicani contra conimu- 
 ncm utriusque nostrum hostcm tueatur atque sustineat. 
 Majestatis vestrce studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. 
 Ex palatio nostro Westmonasterii, 
 die Augusti An. Dom. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Afiglia EnunetUissimo 
 Domino Cardinali Mazarino. 
 
 Eminentissime Doraine ; 
 
 Cum dandae mihi literce ad regera essent, eandem 
 quoque ad cmincntiam vcstram scribcndi occasionem 
 arbitrabar mihi oblatam : cujus enim unius viri pru- 
 dentia singularis Gallorum res raaximas, summaque 
 regni negotia, pari fide, consilio, ac vigilantia, modera- 
 tur, eum celari qua de re scribcrem non convenire ex- 
 istimabam. Foedus enim a vobis, quod dubitare nefas 
 esset, sanctissime percussum, eodem pene die sprctum 
 ac violatum a Gallo quodam iEgidio, quatuor navium 
 praefecto, ejusque sociis nequaquam inscientibus, que- 
 rimur: quemadmodum et ex Uteris nostris ad regem 
 datis, et ex ipsis mercatorum nostrorura postulatis, 
 facile poterit cognoscere eminentia vestra ; quam praeter 
 caeteros non fugit, quanti non magistratuum duntaxat, 
 verum etiam ipsius regiae majestatis, intersit violatores 
 foederum primos eos severius puniri. Verum illi for- 
 tasse, quo tendebant, in Orientalem Indiam jam nunc 
 appulsi, nostrorum bona, contra jus omne atque fidem 
 in recentissimo foedere erepta, veluti prcedam ab hos- 
 tibus captam sibi habent. Illud est interea quod emi- 
 nentiam vestram rogamus, ut quae ab navium pi-aefecto, 
 tanquam itineri suo necessaria, nostris ablata sunt, ea 
 ab illarum navium dominis, id quod ipsi praedatorcs 
 aequum esse censebant, restituantur: qua in re vestram 
 eniinentiam, qua valet authoritate, pluriraum posse in- 
 telligimus. 
 
 Eminentiee vestrae studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius, Prot. Reip. Anglite, &c. 
 
 Ex palatio nostra Westmonasterii, 
 die Augusti An. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Prot. Reipub. Anglia,ffc. ExceUit et pree- 
 potentibus Dominis Fcederati Belgii Ordinibus, S. D. 
 
 Excelsi et pracpotentes Domini, amici 
 ac fcederati charissimi ; 
 Non dubitamus nos quidem quin omnes testimonium 
 hoc nobis perhibituri sint, nullas in contrahendis ex- 
 tcrnis amiciliis rationcs dcfcndcnda rcligionis vcritate 
 
LlTERiE OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 803 
 
 potiores unquam nobis fuisse, nee coiijungendis eorum 
 animis, qui Protestantiiim vel amici ac defensores, vel 
 saltern non hostes essent, antiquius nos quicquam 
 habuisse. Quo graviore aiiimi dolore commovemur, 
 quoties amiuntiatum est, Protestantium principes ac 
 civitates, quae sibi mutuo amicissimae summeque Con- 
 cordes esse debercnt, suspectos inter se esse et non op- 
 time animatos; vos praesertim regemque Sueciae, qui- 
 bus fortiores orthodoxa fides defensores non habet, neque 
 socios nostra respub. sibi conjunctiores, videri non 
 seque ac consuevistis vobis invicem confidcre, immo 
 indicia quoedam vel nascentis inter vos dissidii, vel 
 Tacillantis amicitioe, baud obscura apparere. Causae 
 quee fuerint utrinque, ct usque quo progressa animorum 
 alienatio sit, ignotum esse nobis profitemur : verun- 
 tamen baud potuimus quin gravem sane molestiam 
 aninio caperemus ex ipsis initiis vel rainimae dissen- 
 sionis inter fratres coortie, ex qua tantum creari Protes- 
 tantium rebus discrimen necesse sit; quteque si ingra- 
 Tesccrit (quod Deus ne siverit) quantum inde Reformatis 
 Ecclcsiis pcriculum impcnderet, quanta triumpbandi 
 materies ininiicis nostris, et Hispanis potissinium, dare- 
 tur, latere vestram prudentiam usuniquc reruni solertis- 
 simum non potest. Plispano certe tantum bincfiducioe, 
 tantum spiritus, acccssit, ut non dubitaverit, per legatura 
 suum apud vos commorantem, sua vobis consilia, idquc 
 de summa Reip. vestrop, audacissime obtrudere : etpar- 
 tim injecto renovandi belli metu terrere,partim ostentata 
 utilitatis falsa specie sollicitare vestros animos est ausus, 
 ut rclictis ejus bortatu amicis vctustis ac fidelissimis, 
 Gallo, Anglo, atque Sueco, arctissimam cum hoste ac 
 tyranno quondam vcstro, pacato nunc scilicet, et, quod 
 maxime metuendum est, blandicnte, coire socictatem 
 velletis. Sane qui ex hoste inveteratissimo, arrepta tam 
 Icvi occasione pro consiliario repente vestro se gerit, 
 quid est quod iste sibi non sumeret, quo non audaci&e 
 progTederetur, si cernere id semel oculis posset, quod 
 iiunc animo duntaxat concipit atque molitur, discordi- 
 am nempe inter Protestantes ac bellum intestinum. 
 Ncscii non sumus, vos, pro sapientia vcstra, qui sit 
 Europae universal status, quae Protestantium prcesertim 
 conditio, ssepius cum animis vestris cogitarc ; Helveti- 
 orum pagos, orthodoxam fidem sequeutcs, ncvorum 
 motuum apopularibussuis fidem paprcsequentibus jam 
 jamque ciendorum expectatione suspensos teneri, ex 
 CO vix dum bello emersos, quod religionis pland causa 
 ab Hispano, qui hostibus eorum et duces dederat et 
 pccuniam suppcditaverat, conflatum est atque acceu- 
 sum; vallium Alpinarum incolis consilia Hispanorum 
 eandem rursus machinari caedem atque perniciem, quam 
 superiore anno crudelissimc intulerunt ; Protestantes 
 Germanos sub ditione Caesaris gravissime vexari, sedes- 
 que patrias aegre retinere; regera Sueciae quem Deus, 
 uti speramus, fortissimum religionis orthodoxse propug- 
 natoremexcitavit,cum potentissimis reforraatpe fidei hos- 
 tibus helium anceps atque asperrimum totis regni 
 viribus gerere ; vestris provinciis infesta- vicinorum 
 papistarum, quorum priuceps Hispanus est, nuper icta 
 foedera minitari ; nos denique indicto Hispanorum regi 
 bello esse occupatos. In hac rerum inclinatione siqua 
 inter vos regemque Sueciae discordia existeret, reforraa- 
 3 F 
 
 tarum totius Europse ecclesiarum quam miseranda con- 
 ditio esset, quae immanium hostium crudelitati ac furori 
 objicerentur? Hicc nos cura baud leviter tangit; eun- 
 demque vestrum esse sensum confidimus,proque vestro 
 in communi Protestantium causa prteclaro semper 
 studio, utque pax inter fratres eandem fidem, eandem 
 spem sequentes intemerata servetur, vos vestra consilia 
 ad has rationes esse accommodaturos, qua? cteteris 
 quibuscunque anteponendae sunt, nee quod paci inter 
 vos Sueciteque regem stabiliendae possit conducere, 
 quicquam esse omissuros. Qua in re si nos usus ullius 
 esse possumus, quantum apud vos vel authoritate vel 
 gratia valemus, nostram vobis operam libentissime pro- 
 fitemur, Suecic« quoque regi eandem deferre paratissimi, 
 ad qucm etiam legationem quamprimum mittere ia 
 animo habemus, quae hac de re quid nostrte sententiae 
 sit exponat. Deumque vestros utrinque animos ad 
 raoderata consilia flexurum esse speramus, vosque co- 
 hibiturum, nequid ab alterutra parte fiat quod irritare 
 possit, remque ad extrema deducere : sed ut, contra, 
 pars utraque removere velit quicquid alterutri ofTensum 
 aut suspiciosum esse queat. Id si feceritis, et hostes 
 frustrabimini, et amicis solatio eritis, et vestrae denique 
 saluti reipubl. quam optima prospicietis. Hoc etiam 
 uti persuasissimum sit vobis rogamus, daturos nos esse 
 operam, quoties facultas oblata erit, uti nostrum erga 
 fuederatas Belgii provincias summum studium benevo- 
 Icntiaque appareat. Deum proinde assiduis precibus 
 obtestaraur, ut vestram remp. pace, opibus, libertatc, 
 atque imprimis Christianic fidei amore ac vero cultu, 
 florentissimam conservare perpetu6 velit. 
 
 Vcstrarum celsitudinum potentium studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglioe, &c. 
 
 Ex Pulatio nostra Westmon. die Aug. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, Sfc. Serenissimo 
 Principi JoANNi Lusitanice Regi, S. D. 
 
 Serenissime Rex ; 
 Die undecimo Julii proximi, stylo veteri,sanctionem 
 pacis a majestate vestra jam ratae, a legato vestro extra- 
 ordinario Londini transactae, necnon arcanorumet prae- 
 liminarium articulorum, per Thomam Maynardum 
 accepimus: perque literas a Philippo Meadow, nostro 
 Olyssipone internuntio, eodem tempore datas, nostram 
 etiam dictae pacis et articulorum sanctionem, pro iis 
 mandatis quae a nobis ea de re acceperat, majestati 
 vestrae ab ipso rcdditam intelligimus : cum supra- 
 dicta sanctionis instrumenta ineunte Junio proximo 
 vicissim data acceptaque fuissent, adeo ut nunc inter 
 utramque gentem pax firmissima sancita sit. Qua 
 ex pace nos quidem voluptatem baud mediocrem per- 
 cipimus ; propterea quod eam et communi utrius- 
 que gentis utilitati fore arbitramnr, hostiumque com- 
 munium baud levi detrimento : qui ut prioris foederis 
 turbandi rationem aliquam primo invenerunt, ita nunc, 
 ne idem instaurari foedus posset, inteutatum nihil re- 
 liquerunt. Neque dubiura nobis est, quin suspicionum 
 utrinque offensionumque inter nos materiara creandi 
 occasionem nullam prfetermissuri sint. Quas nos qui- 
 dem, quantum in nobis est, quam longissimc amovere 
 
804 
 
 LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 animo nostro ita coiistanter decrevimus, immo ut ma- 
 jorem indies niutuam fiduciam haec nostra pariat neces- 
 situdo, tarn vcliemcnter cupitnus, ut eos pro hostibus 
 habituri sinius, qui ullis artibus amicitiani nostram iin- 
 minucre conabuntur, inter nos nostrosque populos hac 
 pace stabilitaui ; cundcmque esse niajcstatis vcstroe 
 animum ac voluntatera facild nobis pcrsuademus : 
 Cumquc placucrit ninjcstati vestrte suis in Uteris ad 
 nos quarto et vigesinio Juuii, stjlo novo, datis, et die- 
 bus aliquot post instrumentum confirmatoe pacis datum 
 atque acccptum nostro internuntio traditis, clausularum 
 quarundam hujus foederis mcntionem faccre, quas ali- 
 quantuniimmutatas velit, ut qu(cbuicreipublica:,quem- 
 admodum majestas vestra censct, levis admodum sint 
 moment!, Portufjallite regno maximi, peculiari tracta- 
 tione agcrc iis de rebus qute a majcstate vestra propo- 
 nuDtur, et si quid prseterea foederi stabiliendo, vel etiam 
 arctius obstringcndo, conducere alterutri parti videbi- 
 tur, parati erimus: in qua majestatis vestrse, suique 
 populi baud secus atque nostri, ut utrisque oeque sa- 
 tisfiat, rationem habebimus : atque hsec omnia Oljssi- 
 ponc an Londini agitanda ac transigenda sint, vestra 
 optio erit. Verum hoc foedere jam rato, signisquc 
 gentis utriusque rit6 obsignato, dato denique vicissim 
 atque accepto, immutare partem ejus ullam idem esset 
 atque totura rescindere ; quod majestatem vestram mi- 
 nimi velle pro certo habemus. Majestati vestrae fausta 
 omnia ac prospera exoptamus. 
 
 Majestatis vestrse studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius Protector Rcip. Angliae, &c. 
 Ex Palatio nostra Westmonasterii, 
 Auguiti die 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, Sfc. Serenitsimo 
 Principi Joanni Lusitaniee Regi, S. D. 
 
 Serenissime Rex ; 
 Perlatlm ad nos est facinus illud inhumanum ac 
 nefarium, quo ctedes Philippi Meadowcs, intemuntii 
 apud vos nostri, transigend<e pacis causa a nobis missi, 
 attentata est : cujus atrocitas tanta fuit, ut divino plane 
 Tiumini atque tutelre ejus conscrvatio attribuenda sit. 
 Nosque ex litteris majestatis vestra?, sexto et vigesimo 
 Maii proximi ad nos datis, perque Thomam Maynardum 
 nobis rcdditis, pcrmotam facti indignitatc majestatem 
 vestram de authoribus jussisse quccri intclligimus, ut 
 supplicium de iis, pro eo ac mcriti sunt, sumatur. 
 Verum comprehensos esse uUos ex iis, aut jussa vestra 
 hac in parte quicquam effecisse, nondum accepimus. 
 Quapropter nostrum esse duximus palam significare, 
 tentatum illud facinus barbarum, et partim commissuni, 
 quAm indigne feramus : atque adeo k majestate vestra 
 postulamus, ut ab illius facinoris authoribus, sociis, ad- 
 ministris, supplicium debitum repctatur : Et quo hoc 
 maturius fiat, ut honestissimi integerrimique viri, qui- 
 que gentis utriusque paci quim maxime student, huic 
 queestioni praeficiantur, quo res penitus investigari, 
 tamquc in autbores sceleris quam in ministros severius 
 animadverti possit. Id nisi fiat, neque majestatis 
 Testrac justitia, neque nostra bujusquc reipuh. existi- 
 mstio, vindicari, neque conservandee intejr utramque 
 
 gentem amicitite ulla ratio firma esse, poterit. Majes- 
 tati vestrte fcjclicia faustaque omnia prccamur. 
 Majestatis vestrse studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Angliee, iScc. 
 Ex Palatio nostro Westmonasterii, 
 Aug. die 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, ^c. Illustrissimo 
 Domino Comiti Mirano, .S". D. 
 
 lUustrissime Domine ; 
 
 SiNGULARE tuum crga mc atque banc rempub. stu- 
 dium baud mediocriter nos demeruit, tibique devinxit: 
 id vestris ex literis, 25 Junii proximi ad me scriptis, 
 facile perspexi, turn etiam ex iis, quas ab internuntio 
 nostro Philippo Meadowcs, conficiendfc pacis causa ad 
 Lusitaniae regem a nobis misso, accepi : quibus is de 
 eximio vestro studio atque opera in hac pace transi- 
 genda abunde nos docuit: hujus novissimam sanctioncm 
 et accepi libentissime, mihiquepersuadeo fore, ut neque 
 collatoe in banc pacem operoe tuae, neque in Anglos be- 
 nevolentiee, neque fidei erga regem hac in re spectatae, 
 unquam te poeniteat: quandoquidem, annuente Deo, 
 sperandum est, banc pacem et utrique genti permagna 
 emolumenta, et hostibus iucommoda baud exigua, esse 
 allaturam. Quod solum in hoc negotio triste atque in- 
 faustum accidit, fuit illud facinus in intemuntium nos- 
 trum Philippum Meadowcs nefarie susceptum atque 
 tentatum : Cujus in occultos auctores baud segnius in- 
 quiri oportuit, quam in manifestos sceleris ministros : 
 neque de regis vestri justitia ac severitate in tanto 
 scelere puniendo, neque de tua cum primis ad cam rem 
 opera, ut qui fas piumque colas, et pacis inter utram- 
 que nationem studiosus fueris, dubitare possum : quae 
 quidem stare nuUo modo potest, si facta bujusmodi ne- 
 faria impunita atque iuulta ibunt. Verum tua facinoris 
 illius nota detestatio facit, ut necesse mihi non sit plura 
 de hac re in praesentia dicere. Cum itaque de mea erga 
 te benevolentia, quam et rebus omnibus demoustrare 
 paratissimus ero, certiorem te fecerim, extrcnium illud 
 est, ut te tuaque omnia divinte benignitati ac tutelae 
 a me scias esse commendatissima. 
 
 'iLmplitudinis vestrae studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius Prot. Reip. Anglite, &c. 
 
 Ex palatio nostro Westmonasterii, 
 Aug. die 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, ^c. Serenissimo 
 Principi Carolo Gustavo Suecorum, Gothorum, 
 Vandalorumque Regi, Sfc. 
 
 Serenissime Rex, amice ac foederate charissime ; 
 
 Cum cundem nobiscum animum, idem consilium, in 
 majestate vestra inessc animadvertam, Protestantium 
 fidei defendendee contra hostes ejus, hoc tempore, si 
 unquam alias, infcstissimos, unde est quod tani prosperis 
 successibus vestris victoriarumque nuntiis pen^ quoti- 
 die laetemur, tum illud sane vehementer doleo, quod 
 unum laetitiam banc nostram turbat atque corrumpit, 
 perferri ad nos, inter laeta cffitera, vestram cum foedera- 
 tis Bclgii provinciis amicitiam pristinam non satis con- 
 
LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 805 
 
 stare ; remque eo deductam inter vos, in niari prteser- 
 tim Baltico, ut ad discordiam spectare videatur. Cujus 
 caiisas quidem ig'norare me fateor; ev6ntuni certe (nisi 
 Deus avertat) Protestantium suminac rei periculosissi- 
 mum fore facile perspicio. Quapropter pro ilia artissi- 
 ma necessitudine, quae cum utrisque vestrum nobis in- 
 tercedit, proque eo, quo duci omnes imprimis debemus, 
 religfioiiis reformatae studio atque amore, nostrum esse 
 censuimus, quemadmodum foederatos Belgii ordines ad 
 pacem et aequanimitatem mag^nopere hortati sumus, ita 
 nunc majestatem vestram hortari. Satis superque hos- 
 tium Protestantibus ubique est: nunquam acrioribus 
 odiis inflammati conspirasse in exitium nostrum un- 
 dique videntur. Testes Alpinie valles, baud ita pridem 
 miserorum coede ac sanguine redundantes; testis Aus- 
 tria, cdictis nuper et proscriptionibus Cccsariis con- 
 cussa; testis Helvetia; quid enim attinet pluribus ver- 
 bis tot calamitatuni recentium memoriam luctumque 
 rcvocarc ? Haec omnia loca quis nescit Hispanorum et 
 Romani pontificis consilia incendiis, cladibus,Texationi- 
 bus ortbodoxorum, per hoc bicnnium miscuisse? Si ad 
 liDDC tot mala Protestantium fratrum inter se dissensiu 
 accesserit, inter vos prcesertim, quorum in virtute, opi- 
 bus, constantia, prcesidium ecclesiis reformatis consti- 
 tutum est maximum, quantum humante opis est, peri- 
 clitari rcligionem ipsam reformatam, atquc in summo 
 discrimine versari, necesse erit. Quod contra, si uni- 
 versum Protestantium nomen ea qua decet inter se 
 fraterna consensione perpetuam pacem coluerit, nihil 
 omnino crit quod pertimescamus, quid hostium vel artes 
 vel vires incommodare nobis pocsint, quos sola nostra 
 Concordia vel propulsabit vel frustrabitur. Quapropter 
 majestatem vestram majorem in moduni oro atque ob- 
 secro, ut ad confirmandam cum foederatis provinciis 
 amicitiam pristinam, si qua in parte collapsa est aut 
 imminuta, propensum atque benignum animum afferre 
 relit. Siquid est in quo mea opera, fides, diligentia, 
 ad compositionem usui esse possit, earn omnem vobis 
 profitcor atque defero. Deus modo aspiret, faustumque 
 esse jubeat, quod cum summa felicitate cursuque per- 
 petuo rerum prosperarum majestati vestrae exopto. 
 Majestatis vestrae studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Anglias?, &c. 
 Ex palatio nostro Westmonasterii, die Aug. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, ^c. Ordinibus 
 HollandicB. 
 
 Excelsi et praepotentes Domini, amici charissimi ; 
 
 Demonstratum est nobis a Gulielmo Coopero, pas- 
 tore Londinensi, civeque nostro, Joannem le Maire 
 Amsterodamensem, soccrum suum, ante annos circiter 
 trigiuta-tres rationem quandam excogitasse, qua reip. 
 vestrse reditus, sine ullo populi onere, multo auctiores 
 fierent ; factaque cum Joanne Van den Brook societate 
 partiendi inter se praemii, quod ex illo invent© suo re- 
 portassent, (id autem erat parvi sigilli in provinciis 
 constitutio,) ob hoc celsitudines vestras praepotentes 
 supradicto Van den Brook ejusque posteris tria millia 
 geldricorum (quae trecentas libras valent) in singulos 
 annos pensitanda spospondisse: jam vero, etsi inventa 
 
 ilia parvi sigilli ratio facilis admodum et expedita re- 
 perta est, magnosque ex eo tempore reditus celsitu- 
 dinibus proepotentibus vestris, nonnullisque vestris pro- 
 vinciis, retulit, tamen ad hodiernam usque diem, quam- 
 vis multa sollicitatione petitum, illius pacti praemii 
 nihildum adnumcratum esse: unde postquam supra- 
 dictis Van den Brook et Ic Maire longarum dilationum 
 perta;sum est, actionem illam in supradictum Guliel- 
 mura Cooperum civeni nostrum jure esse translatam : 
 qui, cum fructura industrioe soceri sui percipere cupiat, 
 ad nos per libellum supplicem se contulit, ut banc ejus 
 postulationem celsitudinibus vestris praepotentibus com- 
 raendare vellemus ; quod ei non esse denegandum 
 censuimus. Quapropter celsitudines vestras praepotentes 
 amice rogaraus, uti petitionem supradicti Gulielmi 
 Cooperi ea de re benigne audire velitis, pactumque in- 
 dustrice praemium, atque stipendium tarn justum,et pro 
 numero tot annorum praeteritorum et annua deinceps 
 pensione solvendum curare. Quod cum non dubitemus 
 quin celsitudines vestrae praspotentes libenter facturac 
 sint, utpote et justum, et munificentia vestra dignum, 
 parati et nos vicissim erimus, vestris quoque populari- 
 bus in postulatis suis, quoties nobis edcntur, aequd pro- 
 penso animo favere. 
 
 Vestrarum celsitudinum pratpotentium studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angliae, &c. 
 £"0: palatio nostro Westmonasterii^ 
 die Septemh. an. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, Src Serenissimo 
 Principi LuDovico Gallics Regi. 
 
 Serenissirae Rex, amice ac foederate cbarissime ; 
 
 Inviti facimus ut majestatem vestram de suorum in- 
 juriis, post pacem instauratam, toties interpellemus : 
 verum et vos factas nolle confidimus, et nos nostrorum 
 querimoniis deesse non possumus. Navem Antonium 
 Diepensem ante foedus jure captam ex judicumsenten- 
 tia, curiae nostrac niaritimae praesidentium, facile con- 
 stat. Ejus praedac partem, quatuor millia plus minus 
 coriorum, Robertus Brunus, mercator Londinensis, ab 
 iis qui auctioni praefuerunt, quod et ipsi testantur, co- 
 emit : ex iis circiter ducenta cum Diepam advecta post 
 ratam pacem coriario cuidam Diepensi vendidisset 
 pecuniamque redegisset, ea pecunia in manibus procu- 
 ratoris sui occupata atque retenta, litem sibi impingi, 
 suumque jus illo in foro se obtinere non posse, queritur, 
 Quocirca majestatem vestram rogandum censuimus, ut 
 ad consilium suum de re totareferri velit, pecuniamque 
 illam iniquissima lite extricari. Etenim si ante pacem 
 facta et judicata, post pacem rursus in controversiam 
 atque judicium vocabuntur, quis sit fructus focderum 
 futurus, non videmus. Verum hujusmodi querelarum 
 nullus finis erit, nisi in foedifragos hosce tam frequentes 
 exemplum aliquod severitatis matur^ statuatur ; id 
 quod majestati vestrae quamprimum curae fore speramusc 
 Quam Deus interim tutela sua sanctissima dignetur. 
 Majestatis vestrae studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angliae, &c. 
 Ex palatio nostro Westmonasterii, 
 die Septemb. an. 1656. 
 
806 
 
 LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 Olivebius Protector Reipub. Anglia, !fc. Serenissimo 
 Pn'iicipi JoANNi LusitanicE Regi. 
 
 Serenissime Rex ; 
 Transacta jam felicitcr inter banc rcmpub. Lusita- 
 nicequc regnum pace, necnon ad comniercium quod 
 attinet recte atquc exordinc cautuin ntqiie sancittim ciim 
 sit, neccssarium csscduximus Tiiomam Maynardutn,a 
 quo hre litertE perferuntur, ad niajestatcm vestram mit- 
 tere; qui consulis munerc uegfotiatorio, vcstra in di- 
 tionc, ad mercatorum res rationesque ordinandas, fun- 
 ^tur. Cum autem hoc sfcpius usu venire possit, ut 
 adeundi majcstatem vestram fieri sibi copiam nonnun- 
 quam postulet, tam de commercio qujim aliis de rebus 
 quee nostra huj usque rcip. interesse possint, a majestate 
 vestra pctinuis, ut illi, quoties audito opus sit, benignum 
 velitis aditum atque aurcm priebere; id vestrae erjja 
 nos bonevolentite pro argumento singulari atque in- 
 dicio liabebinius : interim majestati vestrae Deum Opt. 
 Max. fortunare omnia volumus. 
 
 Majestatis vestrae studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius, Protector Reipub. Angliae, &c. 
 
 Ex Aula nostra Westmonasterii, 
 die Octoh. 1656. 
 
 Suecorum Regi. 
 
 Serenissime potentissimeque Rex ; 
 
 Tametsi ea est solita majestatis vcstroe et spontanea 
 in viros bene meritos benevolentia, ut omnis eorimi 
 commendatio supervacanea possit videri, tamen nobi- 
 lem hunc virum Gulielmum Vavasorera, cquitem aura- 
 tum, majestatis vestrae sub sigiiis merentem, et ad vos 
 jam proficiscentem, noluimus sine nostris ad majesta- 
 tem vestram literis dimittere. Quod eo libentiiis feci- 
 mus, posteaquam significatum nobis est, jampridem 
 eura, majestatis vestne auspicia secutum, multis in 
 praeliis vestra causa suum sanguinem profudisse : adeo 
 ut Suecorum reges proximi ob militarem ejus peritiam, 
 operamque saepc in bello strcnue navatam, eum agro et 
 annuis pensionibus, veluti virtutis prsemio, remunera- 
 verint. Neque vero dubitamus quin majestati vestra; 
 in hodiernis bellis permagno sit usui futurus, cum sit 
 fide ac bellicarum rerum scientia jamdiu spectata. 
 Eum itaque majestati vcstroe, pro eo ac meritus est, 
 commendatum cupimus ; simulque rogamus, ut quae illi 
 praeterita stipendia processerint solvantur. Hoc nobis 
 crit gratissimum ; nee gratificari vicissim majestati 
 vestrae, quoties facultas crit, gravabimur ; cui fausta 
 omnia ac prospera exoptamus. 
 
 Majestatis vestrce studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip, Anglice, &c. 
 Ex palatio nostra Westmonasterii, 
 (lie Octob. an. 1656, 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, ^'c. Serenissimo 
 Principi Joanni Lusitania Regi, S. D. 
 
 Serenissime Rex, amice ac fcederatc charissime ; 
 
 ExHiBuiT nobis libcllum supplicem Thomas Evans 
 nauclerus, civis nostcr, in quo ostendit, se an. 1649, ct 
 
 1650, cum navi sua, cui nomcn Scipioni, quadringen- 
 tarum ampborarum, et cui ipse praefuit, socictati Bra- 
 siliensi operam navassc : cam navem, cum onere toto 
 et apparatu, majestatis vestrae jussu ercptani sibi esse: 
 undc damnum homini factum, pricter amissum ex 
 tanta sorte sexcnnii lucrum, conimissarii, ex foedcre ad 
 dccidcndas controversias utrinquc dati, plus septem 
 millibus librarum nostrarum, sivc bis totidem niilreis J 
 Lusitanicis, cestimarunt; quemadmodum ct ad nos re- 
 tulerunt. Quod detrimentum tam grave cum supra- 
 dictum Thomam vehementer afflixcrit, coactus ad re- 
 petendas ex foBdere res suas Oljssipponem navigare, 
 petiit suppliciter a nobis, ut litcras nostras hac de re 
 ad majestatem vestram sibi daremus : nos, tametsi in 
 communi causa mercatorum, quibus a societate Brasi- 
 liensi debebatur, superiore anno scripsimus, tamen ne 
 cui nostram opem poscenti defuisse videamur, majcs- 
 tatem vestram pro amicitia rogamus, ut huj us nomina- 
 tim hominis ratio habeatur; utque vclitmajestas vestra 
 suis omnibus ita prtecipere, ut ne quid obstare possit, 
 quo minus is in ea urbe, quod sibi a societate Brasi- 
 liensi vel aliunde dcbetur, sine uUo impedimento exi- 
 gere, et sine mora possit recuperare. Deus majcstatem 
 vestram perpelua felicitate augeat ; nostramque amici- 
 tiam faxit quam diuturnam. 
 
 Majestatis vestrce studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Anglise, &c. 
 Ex palatio nostra Westmonasterii, 
 
 die Octob, an. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protect. Reipub. Anglice, Sfc. Illustri ct 
 Magnijico Civitatis Hamburgensis Senatui, S. D. 
 
 Amplissimi, magnifici, et spectabiles 
 viri, amici charissimi ; 
 Gravem detulerunt ad nos querimoniam Jacobus et 
 Patricius Hays, cives huj us reip. se, sui fratris Alex- 
 andri, qui intestatus diem obiit, hteredes legitimi cum 
 sint, atque ita ipsius curise vestrce sententia, ante annos 
 duodecim secundum se lata, contra fratris viduam pro- 
 nuntiati fuissent, bonaque defuncti fratris cum fructi- 
 bus, excepta solum viduae dote, adjudicata sibi ex eo 
 judicio essent, noii potuisse tamen hactenus, neque pro 
 suo jure, neque literis Caroli olim regis eadem de re 
 scriptis, ullum laborum suorum ac sumptuum ex ea 
 sententia fructum consequi: obesse sibi scilicet poten- 
 tiam atque opes Alberti van Eizen, decurionis apud 
 vos primarii, apud quem bonorum pars maxima de- 
 posita est; eum agere omnia, ne ea bona ha;redibus 
 restituantur. Elusi, ac dilationibus confecti, summam 
 denique ad inopiam redacti, supplicant nobis ne se 
 negligamus tantis injuriis, fojderata in civitate, oppres- 
 sos. Quod nos cum officii imprimis nostri intelligamus 
 esse, ut nequis civis noster presidium suis rebus, atquf' 
 susceptum patrocinium in nobis rcquirat, petimus quod 
 a civitate vestra videamur facile inipetrare posse, ut 
 sententiam ipsimet vestram hisce fratribus ratam esse 
 velitis ; neque per causam provocationis ad Spircnscm 
 Cameram, vcl primo simulatse vel nunc irritcc, moram 
 justititc fieri diutiiis patiamini. Nam dc summa ipsius 
 causoe jurisperitorum uostrorura scutentiasrcquisivimusji 
 
 1 
 
LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS, 
 
 807 
 
 unaque descriptas obsig'iiatasque ad vos misimus. Quod 
 si rogando nihil proficitur, erit iieccssario, idque ex 
 consueto jure gentium, quod tamen minime vellemus, 
 ad reciproca deveniendum : id lie accidat, vos pro ves- 
 tra prudeiitia provisuros esse confidimus. 
 
 Atnplitudinum vestrarum studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Augliae, &c. 
 Ex palatio nostro Westmonasterii, 
 die Octob. 16. an. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Anglia, Serenissimo ac 
 potentissimo Principi LuDOVico GallicB Reffi, S. D. 
 
 Serenissirae potcntissimcque Rex, amice ac 
 foederate charissime ; 
 
 Pervenisse ad niajestatem vestram literas nostras 
 arbitramur, Maii quarto-deeimo superioris anni datas : 
 in quibus Joannem Dethicum, eodcni anno Londini 
 urbis priefectum, ct Gulielmiim VV'akcfcild, niercatorem, 
 per libellum suppliccm nobis ostendisse scripsimus, 
 navem Jonam suis mercibus onustam, qua; Ostendam 
 vehercntur, Dunkirkara, qua; turn tcmporis in Gallica 
 ditionc erat, a prtedone quodam Caroli Stuarti filii 
 auspiciis piraticam faciente ex ipso Tbamesis ostio fuisse 
 abreptam : se, cum ex edictis vestris vestriquc consilii 
 decrctis, quibus erat cautum, nequa navis Anglorum, ab 
 bostibus parlamenti capta, vestris portubus reciperetur, 
 vciialisvc esset, a domino Lestrado, illius oppidi pree- 
 fccto, postulassent, ut reddi sibi navem suam atquc bona 
 juberet, rcsponsum ab co tulisse, sane neque viro pri- 
 mario dignum, neque eo qui rcgi suo satis dicto audicns 
 videretur, se scilicet ab rege Gallite, ob uavatam in bello 
 opcram, lianc priefecturani prteniio accepisse; curatu- 
 rum proinde uti ea quam maxime queestui sibi sit; per 
 fas videlicet ac uefas: id enim minime laborare vide- 
 batur. Quasi vero banc pnefecturam atquc provinciam 
 majcstatis vestrac dono accepisset, ut socios juxtd spo- 
 liaret, vcstraque edicta in eorum gratiam promulgata 
 pro niliilo babcret. Quod enim rex Gallite, si maxime 
 ab bostibus factum contra nos voluisset, facti tamen 
 participcs suos esse vetuit, id regius prtefectus, contra 
 regium interdictum, non modo fieri est passus, ut nos 
 vestris in portubus diriperemur, pracdteque essemus, 
 vcruni etiam ipse diripuit, ipse preeda; babuit, seque facti 
 authorem palam professus est. Hoc itaquc responso 
 niercatores, infecto iiegotio, irriti atque elusi discessere: 
 nosquc bsec itidem superiore anno niajestati vestra;per 
 literas significavimus, successu licet baud multo meli- 
 ore ; nibildum enim responsi ad eas literas babuimus. 
 Quod non habuerimus accidisse id credimus, prop- 
 terea quod eo tempore proefectus ille apud exercitum 
 in Flandria fuit ; nunc in urbe ipsa Parisiorum degit, 
 vel potius per urbem, perque aulam, nostrorum spoliis 
 locupletatus irapune volitat. A majestate igitur vestra 
 nunc denuo id petimus, quod ipsius majestatis vestrae 
 interest in primis providere, nequis ad sociorum injurias 
 edictorum regiorum contemptionem audeat adjun- 
 gere: sod neque ad legatos sive commissarios de con- 
 troversiis commuiiibus utrinque daudos rcjici proprie 
 haec causa poterit ; quandoquidem hie non sociorum 
 jus duntaxat, sed auctoritas ipsa vestra, regiique no- 
 
 raiuis reverentia, agitur. Illud enim mirum sit, si 
 mercatores damna sua molestiiis quam majestas vestra 
 sui ferat imniinutionem. Eam si non ferat, eadem 
 opera simul perficiet, ut neque amicissiraorum de repub. 
 nostra edictorum pcenituisse, neque in suorum injuriis 
 connivisse, neque nostrce postulationi non tribuisse quod 
 par sit, videatur. 
 
 Majestali vestne voluntate, amicitia, foedcre, 
 deviuctissimus, 
 Oliverius Prot. Reip. Angliae, 5cc. 
 Ex Aula nostra Westmonasterio, 
 die Novemb. an. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anffiiee, ffc. Seretiissimo 
 potentissimoque Principi Frederico III. Dania, 
 Norvcgice, Vandalornm, Gothorumque Regi ; Dnci 
 Slcsvici, Holsatiee, Stormarite, et Dithmarsia ; Co- 
 miti in Oldenburgh et Delmenhorsty !fc. S. D. 
 
 Sereuissime potentissimequc Rex, amice ac fcedcratc 
 charissime ; 
 
 Literas majcstatis vestne sexto-decimo Februaiii 
 Hafuia datas ab ornatissimo viro Simone de Petkum, 
 oratore apud nos vcstro, accepimus. lis perlectis, ct 
 voluntatis crga nos vestru; prteclara significatio, et ipsius 
 rei, de qua scriptum erat, pondus usque to nos permovit, 
 ut statim ad majestatem vestram mittcrc qui, mandatis 
 nostris instructus, nostra cunsilia vobis hac dc re ple- 
 nissime exponcrct, in animo haberemus. Et quaiiquam 
 idem nobis etiamnum animus manet, hacteuus, tamcu 
 idoneum aliquem cum iis mandatis diniittere, queo 
 gravissimumhujusmodi negotium postularet, non putu- 
 imus ; quemadniodum jam brevi facturos nos esse spe- 
 ramus. Interea non omittenduni diutius existimavimus 
 majestatem vestram certiorem facere, prfeseiitera rcruin 
 in Europastatumhaud mediocri noscuraac cogitationc 
 sollicitos tenuisse : cum ab aliquot jam annis summo 
 cum dolore videamus Protestantium principes, ac civi- 
 tatum primores, (quos, ex coiiimuni religionis atquc 
 salutis vinculo, omnem sese mutuo confirmandi ac de- 
 fendendi inire rationem oporteret,) inter se indies magis 
 magisque infirme animates, quid quisque moliatur, 
 quidve struat, suspectum habere ; metum amicis, spcm 
 bostibus praebentes, inimicitias atque dissidia potius 
 hac rerum inclinatione portcndi, quam firmuni iuvicem 
 animorum consensum, ad priesidium mutuum ac defen- 
 sionem. Atque ha;c quidem sollicitudo eo altiiis animo 
 nostro insedit, quo magis in majestate vestra regcque 
 SueciiE adbuc aliquid rcsidere mutute suspicionis vidC' 
 tur; vel saltem non eam cxistere voluutatum conjunc- 
 tioucm, quam communis nostrum omnium in oithodox- 
 am religionem amor ac studium flagitaret ; dum 
 majestati vestroe iiijecta forte aliqua suspicio est, fore 
 ut ab rege Suecia; detrimentum aliquod ditiouis vestrsE 
 commerciis afferatur; suspicante vicissim Suecorum 
 rege, ne, per vos, et belluni quod nunc gerit difficilius 
 et coutrahendarum societatum ratio iiiipeditior, sibi 
 reddatur. Non prscterit majestatem vestram, pro ea 
 summa prudentia, quam adhibere suis omnibus in rebus 
 solet, quantum discrirainis Protestantium summte ici 
 impendat, si istiusmodi suspicioues inter vos diu verseii- 
 
808 
 
 LITEILE OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 tur; quantomagis, quod Deiisavertetjsiquod bostilita- 
 tis indicium eruniperet. Utcunque htec se liabeant, 
 nos, quemadmodum et Suecorum regem, et foederati 
 Belgii ordines, ad pacem et nioderata consilia niag-no- 
 pere hortati sum us, (adeoque redintegrari inter eos pa- 
 cem atquc concordiam vehementer gaudemus, nam et 
 capita quoquc illius fmederis a domiuis Ordinibus trans- 
 missa ad nos sunt,) ita nostras esse partes duximus, nos- 
 traeque araicitiae quam maximeconvcnire, ut qui sensus 
 noster his de rebus sit, majcstatem vestram ne celarcmus, 
 (praesertim cum, ut ita faciamus, majestatis vcstrae Uteris 
 amicissimis tam studiose invitemur ; id quod etiam 
 benevolentiae erga nos vestrce pro argumento singu- 
 lari sane habemus atque amplectimur,) vestraeque 
 majestati ante oculos poncrcmus, quantum nobis ne- 
 cessitatcm, qui Protestantium religionera sequimur, di- 
 ▼ina providentia imposuerit colendi inter nos pacem, 
 idquc nunc maxirae, cum bostes nostri acerrim6, si un- 
 quam alias, rem gerere, et conjurasse undique in pcr- 
 niciem nostram, videntur. Valles Alpinas, miserorum 
 nuper incolarum csede ac sanguine madentes, comme- 
 morarc nihil attinet ; nee conquassatam per eosdem 
 dies Ccesareis proscriptionibus atque edictis Austriam ; 
 nee dcnique contra Hclvetios Protestantes Helvetiorum 
 Papistarum infestos impetus. Quis nescit Hispanorum 
 dolos ac machinationes per hosce aliquot annos heec 
 loca omnia incendiis, ruinis, cladibus Protestantium, 
 permiscuisse ? Si ad haec mala reformatorum fratrum 
 inter se dissensio velut cumulus accedat, inter vos prae- 
 sertim, qui nostrarum virium tanta pars estis, et in qui- 
 bus tantum prsesidii ac roboris Protestantium dubiis 
 temporibus comparatum atque repositum est; quod ad 
 opem humanam attinet, pessum ire Protestantium res, 
 et in extremo discrimine atque occasu versari, necesse 
 erit. Quod contra, si pax constet inter vos vicinos, cas- 
 terosque orthodoxos principes, si concordiae fraternae 
 omni ex parte studeatur, non erit cur, Deo bene juvante, 
 vel vim vel versutiam nostrorum hostium pertimesca- 
 mus; quorum conatus nostra sola consensio vel dissipabit 
 vel frustrabitur. Neque vero dubitamus quin majestas 
 vestra ad banc pacem beatam impertiri suam operam, 
 quam potes maximam, et libens velit, et velle desitura 
 non sit. Qua in re ipse etiam communicare consilia cum 
 majestate vestra, atque conjungere, paratissimus ero; 
 utpote et veram amicitiam professus, et cui non solum 
 pactam inter nos tam auspicate servare pacem delibe- 
 ratura omnino sit, verum etiam necessitudincm hanc, 
 quae nunc interccdit, prout Deus facultatem dabit, arc- 
 tiori vinculo constringere. Idem Deus interim majes- 
 tati vestree secunda ac prospera omnia concedat. 
 
 Majestati vestne amicitia, fcedere, ac voluntate, 
 conjunctissimus, 
 
 Olive Ri us Protector Reipub. Anglian, &c. 
 
 Dabantur ex Aula noitra Westmonasteriiy 
 Decern, an. 1656. 
 
 Olivebils Protect. Reipub. Anglice, !fc. Serenissimo 
 illustritsimoque Principi ac Domino, Domino Gu- 
 LIELMO, HattitB Langravio, Principi Here/eldia, 
 
 Comiti in Cattimeliboco, Decia Liffeuhain, Nidda ct 
 Schaumburgo, ifc. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps ; 
 
 Ad litcras celsitudiuis vestrac non sic altero post 
 anno, quod prope jam pudet, rcscripsissemus, nisi nos 
 admodum invitos permulta sane, eaque gravissima, 
 quorum curam, pro nostro in repub. munere, diflTcrre 
 non potuimus, interpellassent. Quae enim literae de- 
 bebant esse nobis gratiores, quam qiioe a principe reli- 
 giosissimo, majoribus quoque religiosissimis orto, d^ 
 pace religionis, deq ue concordia ecclesiarum concilianda, 
 sunt scriptae ; quae etiam literae eundcm pLine aninuim, 
 idem pacis christiantB proniovendac studium, non solum 
 suo, verum etiam universi fer6 orbis christiani o])inione 
 ac judicio, et ipste nobis tribuunt, et universim attribu- 
 tum esse gratulantur ? Et nos quidem per tria haec olin 
 regna quid hac in parte simus conati, quidque hortando, 
 ferendo, praeeundo, divino maxime auxilio, effecerimus, 
 et norunt nostri plcrique, et in summa conscientiae 
 tranquillitate sentiunt. Eandem procsertim Germaniae 
 totius ecclesiis, ubi acrius ford, jamque diu nimis dis- 
 sidetur, pacem optavimus ; pcrque nostrum Duraeum, ^ 
 hoc idem multos jam annos frustra molientem, siquid i 
 earn in rem nostra opera conferre posset, ex animo de- 
 tulimus. In eadem nos etiamnum sententia permane- 
 mus ; eandem illis ecclesiis fraternam inter se charita- 
 tem optamus: sed quam sit hoc arduum conciliandoe 
 pacis negotium inter ipsos pacis, ut prae se ferunt, 
 filios, summo cum dolore satis superque intelligimus. 
 Nam, ut utrique Reformati nempe et Augustani in unius 
 ecclesiae communionem aliquando coalescant, speran- 
 dum vix est; suam utrique sentenliam ne possint vel 
 voce vel scriptis defendere, prohiberi sine vi non pote- 
 runt ; vis autem cum pace ecclesiastica consistere non 
 potest : hoc tantum sc sinant exorari qui dissentiunt, 
 ut humanius saltem et moderatius veliut disscntire, ni- 
 hiloque minus inter se diligere ; utpote non bostes, sed 
 fratres in levioribus licet dissentientes, in summa tamen 
 fidei coujunctissimos. Haec nos inculcando, haec sua- 
 dendonunquamdefatigabimur; quod ultra est, humanis 
 neque viribus neque consiliis datur: Deus quod suum 
 solius est suo tempore perficiet. Tu interim, serenis- 
 sime princeps, praeclaram in ecclesias declarationem 
 animi tui, sempiternum sane monumeutum ct majori- 
 bus tuis dignum et omnibus posthac principibus imi- 
 tandum reliquisti. Nos celsitudini vestrae, pro eo ac 
 mcrita est, felicitatem caeteris in rebus quantum ipsa 
 cupit, mentem, ea quam nunc babes, baud meliorcm 
 (quid enim potest esse melius ?) a Deo opcimo maxinio 
 precamur. 
 
 Westmonasterio, die Martii, an. 1656. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angliee, ^c. Serenissimo 
 Principi Duci Curlandice, 
 
 Serenissime Princeps ; 
 De benevolentia celsitudinis erga nos vcstrae et alias, 
 et turn quidem aliunde nobis constitit cum orationcm 
 nostram ad Moscoviie Ducem iter facientem, et in 
 ditione vestra per aliquot dies commorantem hospitio \ 
 
 i 
 
LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 809 
 
 benig-ne accepisti : nunc justitiee et aequitatis sute baud 
 leviora indicia daturam esse celsitudinem vestram et 
 suoptc ingenio et nostro rogatii confidimus. Cum 
 enira Joannes Jamesonus, Scotus, navis cujusdam ves- 
 trae magister, fideleni naucleri operam septennioquc 
 cognitam vobis navaverit, seque illam navem Balcnam 
 sibi commissam, in ostio fluminis, ut mos est, guber- 
 natori vestro appellendain in portiim tradidisset, cumque 
 imperite suo munere fungentera quod solum potuit 
 sacpius monuisse multis testibus probaverit, non ejus 
 profecto culpa, sed gubernatoris vcl impeiitia vel per- 
 vicacia fractam esse navem nemini non liquet. Quod 
 cum ita sit, a celsitudinc vestra majorem in modum 
 petimus, ut supradicto Joanni magistro nequc illud 
 naufragiura imputare, neque cam idcirco stipendio dc- 
 bito velit privare; cujus spe sola jam altero naufragio 
 bonis omnibus amissis, se utcunque in extrema inopia 
 sustinet et solatur. 
 Ex Aula nostra Westmonasterio 
 die Martii, An. 1657. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reipuh. Anglice, f^c, Amplis- 
 simis Consulibus ac Senatoribus Reip. Gedanensis, 
 S. P. D. 
 
 Amplissimi, magnifici viri, amici cbarissimi ; 
 
 Urbem vestram industria, opibus et optimarum ar- 
 tium studiis florentcm cum nobilissiniis quibusque 
 urbibus semper esse duximus conferendam : nunc pos- 
 teaquam in hoc bcllo, quod vestris janidiu in finibus 
 geritur, Polonorum sequi partes quam Suecorum malu- 
 istis, san6 et religionis causa quam colitis, etcommercii 
 quod cum Anglis vetustum jam habetis, optavimus ut 
 ea vobis niaxime consilia placerent, quae cum Dei glo- 
 ria urbisque vestrae dignitate ac splendore vidercntur 
 esse conjunctissima. Quocirca petimus pro amicitia, 
 quae vobis cum Anglorum gcntc multo usu firmata 
 jamdiu constat, et siqua in gratia apud vos nostrum 
 quoquc nomen est, ut insignem inter primes Suecorum 
 duces Conismarcum, egregium prtesertim belio virum, 
 casu et suorum proditione mari interceptum belli lege, 
 non acerbissime adbuc gesti, dimittcre vclitis, sin id 
 minus vestris rationibus convenire arbitramini, ut leni- 
 ore saltern ac liberiore custodia habendum ccnseatis. 
 Utrum iiorum vobis faciendum decreveritis, id profecto 
 imprimis quod existimatione urbis vcstrae dignuni est 
 decernetis ; deinde ab omnibus praeclaris belli ducibus 
 magnam gratiam inibitis ; nos dcnique, quicquid id 
 vestra interesse putatis, baud mediocri sane beneficio 
 devincietis. 
 
 Ex Aula nostra Westmonasterio, 
 Aprilis, an. 1657. 
 Vestrarum amplitudinum studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius, Protector Reipub. Anglioe, &c. 
 
 Olive Ri us Protector Reipub. Anglicc, Scotia, Hiber- 
 ni(E, ^-c. Serenissimo ac Potentissimo Principi ac 
 Domino Imperatori Diccique magno universa Russia, 
 Soli Domino Voladom^ri, Moschoce, Novogrodi, 
 Regi C'azani, et Astracani, Sgberia, Domino Vobs- 
 coa, Magno Duci Smolenchi,'Tuerscoice et aliarum, 
 
 Domino ac Magno Duci Novogroda, Inferior unique 
 Regionum C/icrnigoi, Rezanscoa et aliarum, Domino 
 omnis plagee Septentrionalis, item Domino Everscoa, 
 Cartalinsca: aliarumquc permultarum ; S. P. D. 
 
 Anglorum geuti cum imperii vestri populis vetus 
 amicitia magnusquc usus, id quod nemo nescit, amplis- 
 simumque conimercium jamdiu fuit ; ilia vero virtus 
 singularis, Iraperator Augustissime, qua majoribus suis 
 majestas vestra longc prtelucet, et quae de ea est vici- 
 norum omnium principum opinio, potissimum nos 
 movet, ut majestatem vestram et eximio studio cola- 
 mus, etque communicata cupiamus, qute et rei christi- 
 anae et rationibus vestris baud parum conducere, nee 
 minus notninis vestri gloriae serviare posse existime- 
 mus. Quapropter ornatissimum virum Dominum 
 Richardum Bradshaw, summa fide, intcgritate, pru- 
 dcntia, usuque rerum, ex aliis etiam legationibus, nobis 
 cognitum, ad majestatem vestram misinius oratorem ; 
 qui et singulare erga vos nostrum studium, summam- 
 que observantiam vobis exponat, et supradiclis de rebus 
 agcre cum majestate vestra possit. Eum itaquc ut 
 benignd nostro nomine accipiatis, eique ut, quoties 
 commodum erit, liberum aditum, auresque benignas, 
 fidem denique in iis omnibus quae proposuerit aut 
 transegerit, eandem atque nobismetipsis, si coram ad- 
 fuissemus, praebere velitis rogamus ; adeoque majcs- 
 tati vestra; atque imperio Russico fausta omnia a Deo 
 opt. max. precamur. 
 
 Ex Aula nostra Westmonasterii, die 
 April, an. Dom. 1657. 
 
 Majestatis vestrte studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius, Protector Reip. Angl. &c. 
 
 Oliverius, Protector Reipub. Anglice, ^c. Serenissimo 
 ac Potentissimo Principi Carolo Gustavo, Sueco- 
 rum, Gothorum, Vandalorumque Regi, Magno Prin- 
 cipi Finlandice, Duci Esthonim^ Carclia, Brema, 
 Verda, Stetini, Pomeraniee, Cassubice et Vandalia, 
 
 Serenissimo potentisslmeque Rex, 
 amice ac foederate charissime, 
 ViR nobilissimus Gulielmus Jepsonus, militum tri- 
 bunus, et parlamenti nostri senator, cui hoc munus ho- 
 nori erit, quod majestati vestroe hasce literas dabit, ccr- 
 tiorem eam faciei, quanta cum perturbatione ac dolore 
 nuntium accepimus belli illius funcsti inter majestatem 
 vestram Daniaeque regem coorti; quamque nobis cordi 
 ac studio sit, nuUam nostram operam aut officium prte- 
 termittere, quoad Deus facultatem dederit; ut buic 
 ingruenti raalo remedium aliquod mature afFeratur, 
 eaeque siraul calamitates avertantur, quas inferri ex hoc 
 bello religionis causce coramuni necesse erit; hoc prte- 
 sertim tempore, quo adversarii nostri contra orthodoxae 
 fidei professionem et professores cum consilia pemi- 
 ciosissima tiim vires arctissime conjungunt. Haec 
 atque alia nonnulla permagna ad utriusque gentis 
 commoda rationesque publicas momenti adduxere nos, 
 ut hunc virum ornatissimum internuntii extraordinarii 
 praedictum munere ad majestatem vestram mittercmus: 
 
810 
 
 LITEILE OLIVERII PROTECTORIS 
 
 Quern uti amice recipiatis, eiqne, iis in rebus quas cum 
 inajestate vestra nostro nomine communicaverit, sum- 
 mam fidcm adhibcatis rogamus ; cum is sit cujus fidci 
 atque prudcntiae nos quoquc plnrimum tribuamus. 
 Simul et illud pctimus, ut majcstas vestra nostram erfja 
 8C resque suas benevolentiam sing'ularem, atque studium 
 persuasissimum sibi habeat; cujus nos arg-umenta cer- 
 tissiniam per omnem occasionem et propenso animo et 
 officiis paratissimis prsebebimus. 
 Ex Aula nostra Westmoriasterii, 
 Aug. an. Dom. 1657. 
 Majestatis vestrce amicus et foederatus conjuuctissimus, 
 Oliverius Protector Reig. Angl. &c. 
 
 Excellentissimo Domino, Domino de Bourdeaux, Se- 
 renissimi Reffis Galliarum Legato extraordinario. 
 
 Excellentissime Domine, 
 Mercatores quidem Londino-derrienses Samuel 
 Dausonus, Joannes Campsejus, et Joannes Nevinus, 
 per libellum supplicem, Serenissimo Domino protectori 
 ediderunt, se, postcaquam feed us inter banc rerapub. 
 regnumque Gallite redintegratum intellexerant, an. 
 Dom. 1655 navem quandam, cui nomeu Anglice The 
 Speedwell, melioris ominis causa, quam eventus ferebat, 
 impositum, cujus Joannes Ker magister erat, mercibus 
 quibusdam ex portu Derriensi Burdegalam convehen- 
 dis onerasse ; earn navem illic onere exposito, vinoque 
 aliisquc mercibus inde impositis, captara in reditu die 
 24 Novembris anni supra dicti a duabis Brestensum 
 navibus armatis, quarum alteri Adrianus Vindmian 
 Swart, alteri Jacobus Jonsonus, proefuit, ab iisdem etiam 
 in portum Brivatem, vulgo Brestensem, fuisse abductam ; 
 ibique et jure captam judicatam esse, et auctione ven- 
 ditam, cum millc centumqiie libras nostras aestimatione 
 justa vaUiisset, extra damnum mille librarum prseterea 
 datum : de quibus recuperandis omni se honesta ratione 
 cum illius loci praefectis egisse : id sibi hactenus frus- 
 tra fuisse : se etiam moribus cdictum curia; maritimee 
 consecutos esse, quo ckarentur in judicium qui navem 
 illam cepissent, autem jure esse captam dcfendcre sta- 
 tuissent. Edictum hoc et recte atque ordine promul- 
 gatum et redditum : idque ab ejusdem curiae ministris 
 publicis mature Domino legato Galliae significatum 
 esse : cum nemo contra comparuisset, testes aliquot 
 juratos de re judicanda interrogates esse. Qu£E res 
 cum a petitoribus ad cclsitudinem Domini protcctoris 
 delata sit, ab eaque cognitioni atque sententioe concilii 
 mandata, cumque de facto ct testimoniis juratis libello 
 supplici adjunctis abunde constet, petitoribusque libe- 
 rura commercium Burdegalte sit datum, mercesque 
 illic emptae atque impositae vi sint in reditu ereptse et 
 occupatae contra raederis fidem, ut supra demonstratum 
 est, quis non videt hoc esse aequissimum, aut navem 
 cum onere petitoribus restitui, aut de damno cum cap- 
 tse navis tum juris persequcndi plene satisfieri ? Peto 
 igitur ab excellentia vestra, atque etiam serenissimi 
 domini protcctoris nomine peto, omnem velit operam 
 dare, omnique operte authoritatem etiam sui muneris 
 adjungere, ut prime quoque tempore horum altcrutrum 
 fiat. Cum ncque in causa eequiore laborarc possit, ne- 
 
 que mihi gratiore ; qui co diligonlius curasse quod 
 mandatum mihi est videbor, quo excellentia vestra 
 maturius quod suum est prtestiterit. 
 
 Ex Alba Aula, Augusti an. Dom. 1657. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Jtcip. Anglict, ^c. Serenissimo 
 Principi D. Frederico Wiliielmo Marchioni 
 Brandeoihurgcnsis, Sacri Romani Imperii Archi- 
 Camerario, ac Principi E lectori Magdebiirgi, Prus- 
 siee, Julia:, Clivia, Montium, Stetini, Pomeranice, 
 Cassubiorum Vandalorumque, necnon in Silesia Cros- 
 nee et Carnoviae Duci, Burggravio Norinbergensi, 
 Principi Halberstadii et Mindce, Comiti Marco: et 
 Ravensbe^'gi, Domino in Ravenstein : S. P. D. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps, amice ac foederate cbarissime, 
 
 Cum ea sit celsitudinis vestrsp singiilaris virtus et 
 pace et hello terrarum orbe toto jam clara, ea magni- 
 tude animi atque constantia, ut amicitiam vestram 
 omnes fere principes vicini ambiant, amicum et socium 
 nemo fideliorem sibi aut constantiorem cupiat, ut nos 
 quoque in eorum numere esse intelligatis, qui de robis 
 vestrisque egregiis de rep. christiance mentis quam \ 
 optimequamque proeclar^sentiunt, nobilissimum virum 
 Gulielnium Jepsonum, tribunum militum et Parlamenti 
 nostri senatorem, ad vos misimus, qui vobis nostro no- 
 mine et plurimam salutem dicat, et rebus vestris feli- 
 citatem omnem ominetur atque exoptet; nostram deni- 
 que benevolentiam summumque studium erga vestram I 
 serenitatem verbis amplissimis exponat; eique proinde 
 fidem, iis in rebus de quibus vebiscum egerit, eandem 
 habeatis rogamus, ac si a nobismetipsis testata omnia 
 atque confirmata coram esscnt. 
 
 Ex Aula nostra Westmonasterio Augusti 
 an. Dom. 1657. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, Sfc. Amplissimis 
 civitatis Hambitrgensis Consulibus ac Senatoribus : 
 S. P. D. 
 
 9 
 
 I 
 
 Amplissimi, magnifici, et spectabiles viri, 
 
 Amici charissimi ; 
 Cum vir ornatissimus Gulieimus Jepsonus, tribunus ^ 
 militum, et parlamenti nostri senator, ad Suecorum 
 rcgem screnissimum a nobis missus vestram per urbeni 
 iter faciat, in mandatis dedimus, uti vos quoque ne 
 praeteriret nostro nomine insalutatos; neque non roga- 
 tos, ut si qua in re vestra authoritate, consilio aut prte- 
 sidio opus sibi esse judicaverit, ci quibus rebus potestis 
 prtEsto esse velitis. Id quo libentius feceritis eo ma- 
 jorem a nobis iniise vos gratiam intclligitis. 
 Ex Aula nostra Westmonasterio, die Aug. 
 
 an. Dom. 1657. 
 
 Amplissimis Civitatis Bremmsis Consulibus ac Sena- 
 toribtis. S. P. D. 
 
 Amplissimi, magnifici, et spectabiles Viri, 
 Amici charissimi ; 
 Qui noster animus erga vestram civitatcni, quteque 
 benevolenlia, cum propter puriorem apud vos religio- 
 
LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 811 
 
 nis cultum, etiam propter urbis celebritatem, sit, et 
 sensistis alias, et quoties facultas dabitur sentietis. 
 Nunc, cum ornatissimus vir Gulielmus Jepsonus, tri- 
 bunus militum, ct parlamenti nostri senator, ad serenis- 
 simum regcm Suecioe per urbem vcstram oratoris mu- 
 nere instructus iter faciat, hoc tantum in prtesentia 
 Toluimus, ut et vos ille peramanter pcrque amice nostro 
 nomine salutet, et siquid acciderit in quo vestra ope 
 atquc araicitia usus sibi esse possit, id uti 4 vobis pro 
 nostra necessitudine peteret. Qua in re non magis de- 
 futurosvos esse confido, quam de nostro erga vos amore 
 singulari ac studio dubitare debctis. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra die Aug. 
 rtM. Dom. 1657. 
 
 Oliverics Protector Reipub. A'nglicB, ffc. Amplistimis 
 Civitatis Lubeccnsts Consulibus ac Senatoribut, 
 S. P. D. 
 
 Araplissimi, magnifici, ct spectabilcs viri, 
 amici cbarissimi, 
 
 Gulielmus Jepsonus, vir nobiIissimus,militum tribu- 
 nus, et parlamenti nostri senator, ad serenissiraum 
 Suecorum regem ab urbc vestra baud longe castra 
 habentem publico niuncre ornatus proficiscitur, qua- 
 propter ei per urbem vcstram aut ditionem iter facenti 
 ut omni adjumento, si opus erit, atque praesidio, pro 
 nostra amicitia atque commcrcio, adesse velitis roga- 
 mus. De coetero et salutatos vos esse nostro nomine 
 peramic6 volumus, deque nostro erga vos propenso 
 animo ac voluntate esse persuasi'-simos. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, die Aug. 
 an. Dom. 1657. 
 
 Oliverius Protect. Reipubl. Anglia, ^c. Amplissimit 
 Civitatis Hamburgensis Consulibus ac Senatoribus, 
 S. P. D. 
 
 Amplissimi, magnifici, et spectabiles viri, 
 amici cbarissimi, 
 
 Qui hasce ad vos literas perfcrt, Pbilippus Meadowes, 
 oratoris munere a nobis instructus ad serenissimum 
 Daniac rcgcm per urbem vcstram proficiscitur. Eum, 
 siquid erit, in quo vestrara autboritatcm adjumento sibi 
 fore aut prtesidio cxistimaverit, commcndatum vobis 
 magnopere volumus. Nostraque commendatio, quo 
 solet esse apud vos pondere, codcm uti nunc sit roga- 
 mus : vobis vicissim. siquid cjusmodi occurrit non de- 
 futuri. 
 Ex Aula nostra Westmonasterio, die Aug. an. 1657. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reipub. Anglice, Sfc. Serenissimo 
 Principi Frederico Hceredi Norwegice, Duci Sles- 
 vici, Holsatice, Stormaria, Ditmarsia, Comiti in 
 Oldenburgh et Delmenhorst. 
 
 Serenissime princeps, amice charissime, 
 Missus a nobis vir domi nobilis Gulielmus Jepsonus, 
 militum tribuuus, et parlamenti nostri senator, ad sere- 
 nissimum Suecorum regem, quod paci communi reique 
 Cbristianae felix faustumque sit, legationem obit. Ei 
 
 inter alia negotium dedimus, ut cum in itinere salutem 
 plurimara serenitati vestrae nostro nomine, dixisset, 
 pristinamque nostram benevolentiam et constantissima 
 studia significasset, ab eo quoque peteret, ut authoritate 
 vestra munitus iter tutum atque commodum habere per 
 vestram ditionem possit. Quo beneficio celsitudo ves- 
 tra nos nostraque vicissim oificia majorem in modum 
 demerebitur. 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, die Aug. an. 1657 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglitc, Serenissimo Prin- 
 cipi Ferdinando Magno Duci Hetrurice. . 
 
 Serenissime Dux magne, amice charissime, 
 OsTENDiT nobis per libcllum supplicem societas 
 mercatorum nostrorum, qui ad oras Mediterranei maris 
 orientalis negociantur, prcefectum quendam navis Lo- 
 doviculi, sive Anglice The Little Lewis, nomine Guli- 
 clmum Ellum, cum Alexandrse in Egypto esset, con- 
 ductum a Satrapa Memphitico ut oryzam, saccharum 
 et caphiam, ipsius Turcarum principis in usum, Con- 
 stantinopolim aut Smymam comportaret, classi se Otto- 
 manicse in itinere subduxisse, et, contra datam fideni, 
 navis totum onus Libumum avertisse : ibi praeda poti- 
 tum nunc agere. Quod facinus, pessimi sane exempli, 
 ciim Christianum nomen probro, mercatorum fortunas 
 degentium sub Turca (Jircptionis periculo objiciat, 
 petimus a celsitudine vestra, ut ilium ho'minem com- 
 prehendi ct in custodiam tradi, navemque et bona re- 
 tineri, jubeat, quoad significatum a nobis erit curasse 
 nos res illas Turcarum principi reddendas. Vestroc 
 celsitudini sicubi nostris officiis usus vicissim erit, para- 
 tissima omni tempore fore profitemur. 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra^ 
 die Scptemb. an. 1657. 
 
 Celsitudinis vestrae studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius Protector reip. Angliae, Sec. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, ^c. Serenissimo 
 Principi ac Domino D. Frederico Wilhelmo, 
 Marchioni Brandenburgensi, Sacri Romani Imperii 
 Archi-Camerario, ac Principi Electori Magdeburgi, 
 PrussicB, Juli<e, Clivice, Montium, Stctini, Pomera- 
 nice, Cassubiorum Vandalorumquc, necnon in Sile- 
 sia, Crosna et Camovice Duci, Burggravio Norin- 
 bergensi, Principi Halberstadii ct MindcB, Comiti 
 MarccB et Ravensbergi, Domino in Ravenstein. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps, amice ac foederate charissime, 
 
 Alteris ad celsitudinem vestram Uteris per oratorem 
 nostrum, Gulielraum Jepsonum, aut redditis aut brevi 
 redditis legationis ipsi a nobis mandatae fidem fecimus; 
 idque sine vestrarum virtutum aliqua mentione, nos- . 
 trapque erga vos benevolentiac, significatione facere non 
 potuimus. Verura nequis vestra de rebus Protestan- 
 tium egregie merita, quae summa omnium praedicatione 
 celebrantur, nos obitu tetigissc tantum videamur, rc- 
 sumendum nobis nunc idem argumentum, nostraque 
 officia non libentiiis quidem aut animo propensiore, 
 aliquanto tamen prolixius defereiida serenitati vestrae 
 ceusuimus. Et mcrito sane, cum ad aures nostras 
 
812 
 
 LITERS OLIVERIT PROTECTORIS. 
 
 quotidie perferatur, fidetn vestram atque constantiam 
 umnibus tentatam niacliinis, solicitatam techiiis, labc- 
 factari tamen, et ab amicitia fortissimi reg^is ac socii, 
 uullo nioiio posse diraoveri ; idque cum eo loco Succo- 
 rum res nunc sint, ut in retiiienda corum societate ccl- 
 situdinem vestram reformatfc potius rcligionis causa 
 communi, quain suis comniodis duci niaiiifestum sit; 
 cumque hostibus vel occultis vel jam prope imminen- 
 tibus ciiicta undiquc et pcne obscssa sit, copioe ut sint 
 Talids non tamen sint maximae;, ea tamen firmitate 
 animi ac roborc esse, eo consilio ac virtute iroperatoria, 
 et una vestra roluntate niti totius rei summa ac moles, 
 bellique bujus maximi cxitus pendere vidcatur. Qua- 
 proptcr nihil est quod dubitet celsitudo vestra, quin de 
 amicitia nostra summoque studio polliceri omnia sibi 
 possit: qui vel ipsi ab omni laude derelicti nobis vide- 
 rcmur, si prscclara ista fide atque constantia cajterisque 
 vestris laudibus minus delectaremur, aut vobis ipsis 
 communi religionis nomine minus deberemusi Quod si 
 rebus ab omatissimo viro Joanne Frederico Schlezer 
 consiliario et oratore apud nos vestro propositis respon- 
 dere, pro co ac studemus, liactenus non potuiraus 
 (quanquam is omni assiduitate ac diligentia id ag'it 
 atque contendit) conditioni rerum nostrarum hoc velit 
 imputare celsitudo vestra rog-amus; sibique imprimis 
 persuadere nihil nobis esse antiquius aut optatius, 
 quam ut vestris rationibus cum religionis causa tam 
 conjunctis usui quam plurimum atque subsidio esse 
 possimus. Interim tara clara virtus ac fortitudo ne 
 ullo tempore deficiat aut opprimatur, dignave laude 
 Rut fructu careat Deum opt. max. precamur. 
 Ex aula nostra, Westmonasterio, die Sept. an. 1657. 
 Celsitudinis vestree studiosissimus, 
 
 Oliverius, Protector Reip. Anglise, Sec. 
 
 Excellentissimo Domino, Domino de Bourdeadx, •S'e- 
 renissimi Galliarum Regis Legato extraordinario. 
 
 Excellentissime Domine, 
 PosTULAViT a serenissimo Domino protectore, Lucas 
 Lucius mercator Londinensis de sua quadara navi, cui 
 nomen Maria, qiite cum ab Hibernia Bajonam peteret, 
 vi tempestatis ad fanum Divi Joannisde Luz, appulsa, 
 ibi retenta et occupata est actione Martini cujusdam de 
 Lazon ; nee restituta donee a procuratoribus mercatoris 
 illius satisdaretur, se de ilia navi atque onere cum 
 Martino lege experturos. Tulitenim prse se Martinus 
 deberi sibi grandem k parlamento Angliae pecuniam, 
 mercium quarundam suarum nomine, qute in navi qua- 
 dam Sancta Clara anno 1642 parlamenti auctoritate 
 sunt retentee. Verum cum satis constaret, Martinum 
 ilhim earum mercium verum dominum non esse, sed 
 cum Antonio quodam Fernandez verorum dominorum 
 Richaldi et Iriati jus persequi, dissidentibusquc inter 
 se Martino et Antonio, decreverit parlamentura uti 
 merces illoe retinerentur quoad lege esset decisum utri 
 eorum reddendae essent, paratusque fuerit semper An- 
 tonius lege agere; contra, neque Martinus ncque pro 
 eo quisque in judiciohactenus comparucrit, quae omnia 
 ex Lucre petitoris libellis libcllo supplici annexis li- 
 quent; iniquissimum san6 est, ut is, qui jus suum sup- 
 
 posiiitium cum Antonio collcga suo de aliems bonig 
 cxperiri apud nos recusal, cogerct nostros homines ve- 
 rosque dominos de suis bonis in aliena ditione conten- 
 dere : Quin idem oequitati vcstrae atque prudentia- 
 vidcatur, non dubitat sereuissimus dominus protector; 
 a quo sum jussus, banc Lucx Lucii causam aequissi- 
 mam excclluntitc vestree singularem in modum coni- 
 nicndare: ne Martino, qui jus alicnum apud nos per- 
 sequi negligit, eo obteutu aliis eripiendi jus suum apud 
 vos potestas dctur. 
 
 Westmonasterio, die Octob. an. 1657. 
 
 Excellentite vestrac studiosissimus. 
 
 Oliverius, Protector Reip. Angliai, ^c. Serenissimo 
 Duci ac Senatui Reip. Venetee. . 
 
 Serenissime Dux atque Senatus, Amici charissirai; 
 
 NuNCii rerum vestrarum contra Turcas felicissimd 
 gestarum tam crebri ad nos perferuntur, ut nobis non 
 saepiiis ulla de re ad vos scribcndum, quam de insigni 
 aliqua victoria gratulandum sit. Hanc recentissimam, 
 et reipublicte vestroe quam maxime laetam atque oppor- 
 tunam cupimus, et quod gloriosissimum est, christia- 
 norum omnium sub Turca servientium quam maxime 
 liberatricem. Nominatira Thomam Galileum navis, cui 
 nomen The Relief, olim pnefectum, serenitati vestroB 
 ac senatui, tametsi non nunc primum, nunc tamen eo 
 libentiiis quo latiori tempore, quinquennalem captivam 
 commendamus. Ei cum k vobis imperatura esset, ut 
 cum navi sua reipublicae veslrae operam navaret, solus 
 cum multis hostium triremibus congressus, nonnullas 
 depressit, magnamque stragem edidit; tandem com- 
 busta navi captus vir fortis, deque Veneta rep. tam 
 bene meritus, quintum jam annum in misera scrvitute 
 barbarorum degit. Unde se redimat facultatum nihil 
 est; nam quicquid erat, id a celsitudini vestra et I 
 senatu, vel navis vel bonorum vel stipendii nomine de- 1 
 here sibi ostendit. Verum ut facultates non decssent;   
 hostes tamen non alia lege dimissuros se eum profiten- 
 tur, quam si suorum aliquis, qui illis in pretio eeque si(, 
 permutetur. Petimusitaque magnopere a vestra atque 
 senatus celsitudine serenissima, petit per nos senex mi- 
 serrimus, captivi pater, moeroris et lachrymarum plenus, j 
 qujenosquideni permovcrunt, ut primum quoniam ex totj 
 prosperis praeliis Turcaruni tanta copia captorum vobis' 
 est,unam aliquem ex eo numero, quern illi recipiant,hos- 
 tem vestro milite fortissimo, nostro cive, senis mrestissi- 
 mi filio unico coinmutare velitis. Deinde, ut quod 
 stipendii, vel aliis nominibus ipsi a repub. debetur, id 
 quam primum velitis patri aut-procuratori ipsiusannu- 
 merandum curare. Priori quidem rogatu nostro, vel 
 potius cequitate vestra cffectum est, ut statim re cognita, 
 putatisque rationibus constitutum esset quid debcatur : 
 verum ilium supputationem ingentibus fortasse aliis 
 negotiis, nulla solutio sccuta est. Nunc miseri conditio 
 dilationcm salutis diutiiis non fert : euni, si omnino 
 salvum vultis, danda opera est, ut squalore illo carceris 
 tetcrrimo quam primum libcretur. Id sine mora, sine 
 hortatu ctiam nostro humanissima voluntate vestra 
 facturos vos esse confidimus: quandoquidcm justitia, 
 moderatione, atque prudentia non minus qiiain belli 
 
LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 813 
 
 gloria victoriisque floretis : atque ut diutissime florea- 
 tis, devicto hoste potentissimo, Deum opt. max. pre- 
 camur. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, 
 die Octob. an. 1657. 
 
 Celsitudimim vestrarum studiosissimus, 
 Olivf.rius, Prot. Reip. Angliae, &c. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, ^c. Excelsis et 
 prcepotentibus Dominis Fcederati Belgii Ordinibus, 
 S. P. D. 
 
 Excels! et pracpotentes Domini, amici ac 
 fecderati charissimi ; 
 
 Redit ad vos vir illustrissimus Gulielmus Nuport 
 legatus vester annis jam aliquot apud nos extraordina- 
 rius : sed ita redit, pelito ad tcmpus duntaxat a vobis 
 commeatu, ut eum brevi reversurum speremus. Ea 
 enim est fide, Tigiiantia, prudentia, acquitate apud nos 
 in suo munere versatus, ut majorem in unoquoque 
 genere virtutera ac probitatem neque nos desiderare in 
 legato, viroque optimo, neque vos possitis; eo animo ac 
 studio ad paeem inter nos ct amicitiam sine fuco et 
 fraude conscrvandam.ut, illo banc legationem obeunte, 
 quid inter nos offensionis aut scrupuli suboriri qucat 
 aut pullulate, non videamus. Et discessum sane ejus 
 molestiore animo fcrremus, bac pnesertim rerum ac 
 temporum inclinatione, nisi persuasissitnum nobis boc 
 esset, neminem melius posse aut fidelius vel rerum 
 utrobique statnm, vel nostram erga celsitudiues vestras 
 benevolcntiam studiumque integrum coram exponere. 
 Quaproptcr bunc ut virum undiquaque praestantissi- 
 mum, deque rep. et sua et nostra optime meritum, ac- 
 cipere redeuntem velilis rogamus: sicuti'et nos veris- 
 simo nostrarum laudum tcstimonio ornatum abeuntcni 
 dimisimus prope inviti. Deus ad ipsius gloriam eccle- 
 siaeque praisidium ortbodoxoe vestris rebus felicitatcm, 
 nostrae amicitioe perpetuitatem concedat. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, 
 die Noiu an. 1657. 
 
 Celsitudinem vestrarum studiosissimus. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, ^-c. Excelsis et 
 prapotentibus Dominis Fadej-ati Belgii Ordinibus, 
 S. P. D. 
 
 Excelsi et prcepotentes Domini, amici nostri ac 
 foederati charissimi ; 
 Georgius Duningus vir nobilis nobis est multis ac 
 variis negotiis, summa fide, probitate ac solertia, per- 
 spectus jamdiu et cognitus. Eum nt apud vosoratoris 
 munere fungatur, mittendum censuimus, mandatisque 
 nostris amplissime instruximus. Eum itaque amico, 
 ut consuevistis, animo recipiatis rogamus : et quoties 
 habere se siguificaverit, quod nostro nomine vestrum 
 cum excelsis ordinibus agat, amice audire, fidemque 
 adbibere ; et quae vos vicissim communicanda nobis 
 censebitis, ea omnia, sicuti recte potestis, perinde ac si 
 nos ipsi coram essemus, ei committere velitis. De 
 caetero vobis vestrteque reip. ad Dei gloriam eccle- 
 
 sioeque proesidium secundas res omncs ex animo pre- 
 camur. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, die 
 Deccmb. an. Dom. 1657. 
 
 Celsitudinum Vestrarum studiossissimus, 
 Oliverius, &c. 
 
 Ordinibus Hollandia. 
 
 Cum ea nostrce reip. cum vestra intercedat necessi- 
 tudo, ea sint utrinque negotia, ut sine oratore atque in- 
 terprete vel bine vel inde misso res tantic ad utilitatem 
 utriusque gentis constitui commode vix possint, ex usu 
 communi lore arbitrati sumus, ut Georgium Duniugum 
 virum nobilem, multis ac variis negotiis summa fide, 
 probitate ac solertia spectatum, jam diu nobis et cog- 
 nitum, eo munere instructum mitteremus: qui nostro 
 nomine apud vos maneat, iis maxime officiis intentus, 
 quibus nostra amicitia sarta tecta conservari posse 
 quam diutissime videatur. Hacde re cum ad excclsos 
 et pnepotentes ordines scripsimus, turn vos quoque qui 
 in Provincia vestra siimmte rei praesidetis, et Foederati 
 Belgii tanta pars estis, certiores faciendos per literas 
 duximus; ut et nostrum oratorem ea ratione qua con- 
 venit accipiatis, et quae iile cum excelsis Dominis ordi- 
 nibus transegerit, ea vobis persuadeatis perajque firma 
 ac rata nos esse habituros, ac si ipsi rebus transactis 
 coram interfuissemus. Deus consilia vestra et facta 
 omnia ad gloriam suam et ecclesiae pacem dirigat. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ^c. Decemb. 1657. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, ^'c. Serenissimo 
 Principi Ferdinando Magno Duci Iletruria. 
 
 Serenissime Dux Magne, amice noster 
 plurimum colende, 
 Permagnam nobis attulere voluptatem literae celsi- 
 tudinis vestrte decimo Nov. Florentia datse; in quibus 
 bene^ olentiam erga nos veslram eo vidimus perspecti- 
 orem, quanto res ipsse verbis, facta promissis certiora 
 benevolentis aninii indicia sunt : qnoc nempc rogavi- 
 mus celsitudinem vestram,juberet ilium navis Lodovici 
 parvi prfcfectum Gulielmum Ellum, qui fidem Turcis 
 datam turpissime fregerat, et ipsum comprehendi, et 
 navcm cum mercibus in portu retineri, quoad Turca- 
 rum quaj essent redderentur, ne nomen Christianum 
 per istiusmodi furta labem aliquam susciperet, ea om- 
 nia, et summo quidcm studio, quod satis intelligimus, 
 scripsit celsitudo vestra se proestitisse. Nos itaque cum 
 pro accepto beneficio gratias agimus, turn hoc porro 
 nunc petimus, quandoquidem satisfactura iri Turcis 
 mercatores in se receperunt, ut et prasfectus ille custodia 
 liberetur, et navis cum mercibus quamprimum dimit- 
 tatur; ne Turcarum forte rationem potiorem, quam 
 nostrorum civium habuisse videamur. Interim celsi- 
 tudinis vestrae spectata voluntate erga nos singu]ari,et 
 sane gratissima sic libenter fruimur, ut ingratitudinis 
 notam non recusemus, nisi pari promptitiuline vobis 
 vicissim gratificandi occasionem quam primum dari 
 nobis exoptamus, ex qua nostram quoque in rcddcudis 
 
814 
 
 LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 officiis proroptitudincm animi rebus ipsis erga tos de- 
 moustrarc possimus. 
 
 Westmotiasterio, ex Aula nostra, 
 Decetnb. an. 1657. 
 
 Celsitudinis vcslrs studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius, &c. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, Sfc. Sercnissimo 
 ac potentissimo Principi Carolo Gustavo Sueco- 
 rum, Gothorvm, Vandalorumquc Regi, 
 
 Sercnissime potentissimcque Rex, amice ac 
 foederate invictissime ; 
 MuLTA simul attulere nobis litcrae majestatis vcstrae 
 21 Feb. in castris Selandicis datte, cur, ct privatira nos- 
 tra, et totius reipub. Christianee causa, lectitia baud 
 mcdiocri afficeremur: primum quod rex Daiiia;, non 
 sua credo voluntate aut rationibus.sed bostium commu- 
 nium artibus factus bostis, repcntinu vestroinintimuni 
 ejus regnum adventu, sine multo sanguine, eo sit re- 
 dactus, ut, quod res erat, utiliorem sibi pacera bello 
 contra vos suscepto tandem judicavcrit: dcinde cum is 
 earn nulla se rationo citius posse consequi existimarct, 
 quam si delata sibi jamdiu ad conciliandam paccm 
 nostra opera uteretur, quod majcstas vestra solis intcr- 
 nuntii nostri literis exorata, tarn facili pacis concessione 
 ostenderit, quantum nostra amicitia atque gratia inter- 
 posita apud se valeret: meumque imprimis in hoc tum 
 pio ncgotio officium esse voluerit, ut pacis tarn saluta- 
 ris protestantium rebus, uti spero, mox futuroe ipse po- 
 tissimum onus conciliator atque auctor propemodum 
 esseni. Cum euim religionis bostes conjunctas opes 
 vestras alio pacto frangere se posse desperarent, quam 
 si vos inter vos commisissent, babebunt nunc, profecto 
 quod pertimescant, ne armorum animorumque,ut spero, 
 Tcstrorum hsec inopinata conjunctio ipsis belli hujus 
 conflatoribus in perniciem vertat. Tu interim, rex 
 furtissime, macte tua egregia virtute ; et quam felici- 
 tatem in rebus tuis gestis victoriarumque cursu contra 
 regem nunc socium bostes ecclesice nuper admirati sunt, 
 eandem in sua rursus clade, Deo bene juvantc, fac sen- 
 tiant. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Palatio iiostro, 
 30 dic-Martii, 1658. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, ^c. Serenissimo 
 Principi Ferdinando Magno Duci Hetrurice. 
 
 Serenissime Princeps, 
 Quod satisfacturum arbitramur celsitudini vestroe de 
 nostro classis praefeeto qui ad portus vestros nuper est 
 delatus, vestro apud nos oratori respondimus: interim 
 per libellum supplicem nobis ostendit Joannes Hosie- 
 rus Londinensis, cujusdam navis, cui Dominte nomen, 
 magister, se, cum anno 16;36, mense Aprili, navem 
 Buam ex syngrapba (cbartam partitam jus nostrum vo- 
 cal) Josepho Armano Italo cuidam locasset, isque fac- 
 ias in syngrapba pactiones ter aperte fregisset, coactum 
 esse demum, ne navem suam, totumque onus ejus, sor- 
 tem deniquetotam amitteret, more mercatorio, declarata 
 public^ ejus fraude, et in Ubulas publicas relaU, Li- 
 
 burni in jus eum vocare : cum autem, ut fraudem fraude 
 tucretur, adhibitis in societatem duobus aliis negotiato- 
 ribus litigiosis, de pccunia Tliomie cujusdam Clutter- 
 buxi sex mille octonus, conficto quodam obtentu, pcti- 
 toris bujus nomine occupasse: se, post multas impcnsas 
 consumtumque tenipus, jus suum Liburni obtincre 
 non posse ; ne audcrc quidcm, propter adversariorum 
 minas atque insidias, in judicio iliic comparere. Peti- 
 mus itaque a cclsitudine vestra, ut cum buic bomini 
 oppresso subvenirc, tum bujus adversarii insolcntiam 
 pro consueta sua justitia velit coercere: frustra enim 
 autboritate principum leges essent civitatibus latae, si 
 vis atque injuria, ciim, ne omnino sint leges, efficere 
 non possint, possint efficere ten-ore ac minis, ne quis 
 ad cas audeat confugere. Verum in bujusniodi auda- 
 ciam quin mature animadversura sit celsitudo vestra, 
 non dubitamus; cui pacem prospcraque omnia a Deo 
 opt. max. precamur. 
 
 Westmonasterio ex Aula nostra, 
 die 7 April, an. 1658. 
 
 Serenissimo Potentissimoque Principi Ludovico 6^0/- 
 liarum Regi. 
 
 Serenissime potentissimcque Rex, amice ac 
 foederate augustissirae ; 
 Meminisse potest majestas vestra quo tempore inter 
 nos de renovando fcedere agebatur; quod optimis aus- 
 piciis initum multa utriusque populi commoda, multa 
 bostium communium exinde mala tcstantur, accidisse 
 miseram illam Convallensium occisiouem, quorum 
 causam undique desertam atque afflictam vestras mise- 
 ricordioe atque tutcloe summo cum ardore animi ac 
 miseratione commendavinius. Nee defuisse per sc arbi- 
 tramur majestatem vestram officio tarn pio, immo vero 
 tam bumano, pro ea qua apud duccm Sabaudiee valcre 
 dcbuit vel auctoritatc vol gratia : nos certe aliique 
 multi principes ac civitatcs, Icgationibus, literis," pre- 
 cibus interpositis, non dcfuimus. Post cruentissimam 
 utriusque sexus omnis jctatis trucidationem, pax tan- 
 dem data est, vcl potius inducti pacis nomine bostilitas 
 quaedam tectior : conditiones pacis vestro in oppido 
 Pinarolii sunt latae ; dura; quidem illte, scd quibus 
 miseri atque inopes dira omnia atque immania pcrpessi 
 facil6 acquiescerent, moda iis, durte ct iniquac ut sint, 
 starctur; non statur; sod enim earum quoquc singula- 
 rum falsa interpretatione variisque divcrliculis fides 
 eluditurac violatur; antiquisscdibus multi dejiciuntur, 
 rcligio patria mullis iiiterdicitur, tributa nova exigun- 
 tur, arx nova ccrvicibus imponitur, unde militcs crebro 
 erumpcntes obvios quosque vel diripiunt vel trucidant : 
 ad bfec nuper nova2 copiac clanculum contra cos paran- 
 tur ; quique inter cos Romanam religioncm colunt, mi- 
 grare ad tempus jubentur; ut omnia nunc rursus vide- 
 antur ad illorum internecionem miscrrimorumspectare, 
 quos ilia prior laniena reliquos fecit. Quod ergo per 
 dcxtram tuam, rex christianissimc, quae foedus nobis- 
 cum et amicitiam percussit, obserro atque obtestor, per 
 illud christianismi tituli dccus sanctissimum, fieri ne 
 siveris: nee tiintam Sfcviendi licentiam non dico piin- 
 cipi cuiquam (neque enim in uUum principcm, multo 
 
LITERiE OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 815 
 
 minus in tetatem illius principis teneram, aut in mu- 
 liebrem matris aniraum tanta seevitia cadere potest) sed 
 saccrrimis illis sicariis ne perniiseris ; qui cum Christi 
 servatoris nostri servos atque imitatores sese profiteau- 
 tur, qui venit in hunc mundum ut peccatores servaret, 
 ejus mitissimo nomine atque institutis ad innocentium 
 crudelissimas csedes abutuntur: eripe qui potes, quique 
 in tanto fastigio dignus es posse, tot supplices tuos 
 homicidarum ex manibus, qui cruore nuper ebrii, san- 
 guinem rursus sitiunt; suueque invidiam crudelitatis 
 in principes derivare consultissimum sibi ducunt. Tu 
 vero nee titulos tuos aut regni fines ista invidia, nec 
 evangelium Christi pacatissimum ista crudelitate foD- 
 dari te regnante patiaiis. Memineris lios ipsos avi tui 
 Henrici protestantibus amicissimi dedititius fuisse ; 
 cum Diguierius per ea loca, qua etiam comraodissimus 
 in Italiam transitus est, Sabaudum trans Alpes ceden- 
 tem victor est insecutus : deditionis illius instrumentum 
 in actis regni vestri publicis etiamnum extat ; in quo 
 exceptum atque cautum inter alia est, ne cui pustea 
 Convallenses tradcrentur, nisi iisdem conditionibus qui- 
 bus CO avus tuus invictissimus in fidem recepit. Hanc 
 fidem nunc implorant, avitam abs te nepote supplices 
 requirunt : tui esse, qudm cujus nunc sunt, vel permu- 
 tatione aliqua, si fieri possit, malint atque optarint : id 
 si non licet, patrocinio saltern, miscratione atque pcr- 
 fugio. Sunt et rationes regni quae hortari possint ut 
 Convallenses ad te confugientes nerejicias: sed nolim 
 te, rex tantus cum sis, aliis rationibus ad defcnsionem 
 calamitosorum qnam fide a majoribus data, pietate, 
 regiaque animi benignitate ac magnitudine permoveri, 
 Ita pulcherrimi facti laus atque gloria illibata atque 
 Integra tua erit, et ipse patrem misericordia) ej usque 
 filium Christum regem, cujus nomen atque doctrinam 
 ab immanitate nefaria vindicaveris, eo magis fareutem 
 tibi atque propitium per omnem vitam expericris. 
 Deus opt. max. ad gloriam suam, tot innocentissimorum 
 hominum christianorum tulandam salutem, vcstrumque 
 verum decus majestati vestrse hanc mentem injiciat. 
 Westmonasterio, Maii, an. 1658. 
 
 Civitatihus Helvetiorum Evangelicis, 
 
 Illustres atque amplissimi Domini, 
 amici charissimi ; 
 De Convullensibus vicinis vestris afflictissimis, quam 
 sint a principe suo gravia et intoleranda religionis 
 causa passi, cum propter ipsam rerum atrocitatera hor- 
 ret prope animus recordari, tum ad vos ea scribere qui- 
 bus notiora multo sunt, supervacuum duximus. Ex- 
 erapla etiam literarum vidimus quas legati vestri pacis 
 jamdudum Pinarolianse hortatores atque testes ad 
 Allobrogura ducem illiusque Taurinensis consilii pree- 
 sidem scripserunt ; in quibus ruptas esse omnes pacis 
 conditiones, illisque miseris fraudi potiijs quam securi- 
 tati fuisse singulatim, ostendunt atque evincunt. Qua- 
 rum violationem ab ipsa statim pace data in hunc usque 
 diem continuatam, et indies graviorem nisi sequo 
 animo patiuntur, nisi se conculcandos plane et pessum- 
 dandos prosteniunt atque abjiciunt, religione etiam 
 ejurata, impendet cadem calamitas, eadem strages, quae 
 
 ipsos cum conjugibus ac liberis tertio abhinc anno sic 
 miserabilem in modum attrivit atque afflixit, et sub- 
 eunda iterum si est, funditus eradicabit. Quid agant 
 miseri ? quibus nulla deprecatio, nulla respiratio, nul- 
 lum adhuc certum perfugium patuit; res est cum feris 
 aut cum furiis, quibus priorum ccedium recordatio nul- 
 1am poenitentiam, aut snorum civium miserationem, 
 nullum sensum humanitatis aut fundendi sanguinis sa- 
 tietatem attulit. Htcc ferenda plane non sunt, sive 
 fratres nostros Convallenses orthodoxce religionis cul- 
 tores antiquissimos, sive ipsam religionem salvam vo- 
 lunius. Et nos quidem locorum iutervallo plus nimio 
 disjuncti, quod opis aut facultatis nostne fuit, et prte- 
 stitimus ex animo, et prtestare non desinemus. Vos 
 qui non modo fratrum cruciatibus ac pcnc clamoribus, 
 verum etiam eorumdem furori hostium proximi estis, 
 prospicite per Deum immortalem, idque maturd, quid 
 vestrarum nunc partium sit; quid auxilii, quid praesidii 
 vicinis ac fratribus, alioqui mox perituris, ferre possitis 
 ac debeatis, prudentiam vestrara ac pietatem, fortitu- 
 dinem etiam vestram consulite. Causa cert6 eadem 
 estreligio, cur iidcm hostes vos quoque perditos velint, 
 immo cur eodem tempore, eodem superiore anno, foede. 
 ratorum vestrorura intestino marte perditos voluerint. 
 Vestra duntaxat in manu post opem divinam videtur 
 esse, ne purioris ipsa stirps religionis vetustissima in 
 illis priscorum fidelium reliquiis excindatur : quorum 
 salutem in extremum jam discrimen adductara si neg- 
 ligitis, videte ne vosmetipsos paulo post proximal vices 
 urgeant. Haec dum fratenie ac liber^ hortamur, ipsi 
 interea non languescimus : quod solum nobis concedi- 
 tur tam longinquis, cum ad procurandam periclitautium 
 incolumitatem tiim ad sublevandam egcntium inopiam, 
 omnem operam nostram et contulimus et conferemus. 
 Deus det utrisque nobis earn domi trauquillitatem ac 
 pacem, eum rerum ac temporura statum, ut omnes nos- 
 tras opes atque vires, omne studium ad defendcndam 
 ecclesiam suam contra hostium suorum furorem ac ra- 
 biem, convertere possiraus. 
 
 Westmonatterio, ex Aula nostra, 
 Maii die, an. 1658. 
 
 Eminentissimo Domino Cardinali Mazabino, Salutem. 
 
 Eminentissime Domine, 
 Illatx nuper protestantibus, qui valles quasdam AI- 
 pinas in ditione ducis Sabaudiae incolunt, gravissimae 
 calamitates ccedesque cruentissimae fec^re, ut inclusas 
 has literas ad majestatem regiam, basque altcras ad 
 eminentiam vestram scripserim. Et quemadmodum 
 de rege serenissimo dubitare non possum, quin hasc 
 tanta crudelitas, qua in homines innoxios atque inopes 
 tarn barbare ssevitum est, vehementer ei displiceat atque 
 offensa sit ; ita mihi facile persuadeo, quse ego a majes- 
 tate regia illorum causa miserorum peto, ad ea impe- 
 tranda vestram quoque operam atque gratiam, velut 
 cumulum, accessuram. Cum nihil plan^ sit, quod 
 Francorum genti benevolentiam apud suos omnes vici- 
 nos reformatse religionis cultores majorem conciliaverit, 
 quam libertas ilia ac privilegia, quae ex edictis suis 
 atque actis publicis permissa protestantibus atque con- 
 
A16 
 
 LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 cessa sunt. Et htPC quidem respublica cum propter 
 alias turn banc potissimum ob causam Gallorum ami- 
 citiam ac ueccssitudinem majorem in moduin expcti\ it. 
 .Dc qua cunstituenda jamdiu cum legato regio apud 
 DOS agitur, ejusque tractatio jam pen^ ad exkum per- 
 ducta est. Quid ! quod ctiam singularis bcnig-nitas 
 emincntiae restrae, ac moderatio, quam in sunimis regni 
 rebus gcrendis erga protestantes Galliae semper testata 
 est, a prudentia vestra et magnitudine animi ut lioc 
 sperem atque expcctem, facit ; qua ex re et fundamenta 
 arctioris ctiam necessitudinis inter banc rcmpublicam, 
 regnumque Gallicum eminentia vestra jecerit, meque 
 sibi privatim ad ofRcia omnia bumanitatis ac benevo- 
 lentiac vicissim rcddenda obligaverit: adeoque boc 
 velim eminentia vestra sibi persuasissimum babeat. 
 Eniinentine vestra; Studiosissimus. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglia, Serenissimo ac 
 Potentissimoqtie Principi LuDovico Galliarum Regi. 
 
 Scrcnissime potentissi meque Rex, amice ac federate 
 augustissime, 
 Thomam Vicecomitem Falconbrigium generum 
 meum in GalUam proficiscentem, ct ad testificandum 
 obsequium suum ct observantiam, qua majestatem ves- 
 tram colit, venire in conspcctum vestrum, regiam ma- 
 num osculari cupientem, tametsi propter consuetudinem 
 ejus jucundissimam invitus dimitto, tamen cum non 
 dubitem quin ab aula tanti regis, in qua tot viri pru- 
 dentissimi fortissimique versantur, multo instructior ad 
 res quasqne laudatissimas, et quasi consummatus ad 
 nos brevi sit revcrsurus, obsistendum esse ejus animo 
 ac voluntati non sum arbitratus. Et quanquam is est, 
 nisi ego fallor, qui per se satis commendatus, quocunque 
 accesserit, videri possit, tamen si se mea gratia majes- 
 tati vestrac aliquanto commendatiorem fuisse senserit, 
 eodem me quoque beneficio affectum atque devinctum 
 arbitrabor. Deus majestatem vestrara incolumem, 
 nostraraquc amicitiam firmissimam communi orbis 
 christiani bono quam diutissime consen'et. 
 WcstmonasteriOy ex Aula nostra, Maii die, an. 1658. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, ^c. Eminentitsimo 
 Domino Cardinali Mazarino. 
 
 Eminentissime Domine, 
 
 Cum Thomam Vicecomitem Falconbrigium generum 
 mcum proficiscentem in Galliam serenissimo regi com- 
 mendaverim, non potui quin ea de re eniinentiam ves- 
 tram ccrtiorem facerem, nee non vobis etiam eundem 
 commendarem : id quantum ponderis atque momcnti 
 ad superiorem quoque commendationem allaturum sit 
 non nescius. Quem certe fructum commorationis apud 
 vos suae, sperat autem non mcdiocrem bunc fore, per- 
 cepturus est, ejus maximam partem favori \estro ac 
 benevolentiae non poterit non debere; cujus prope sola 
 mens ac vigilantia res tantas eo in regno sustinet ac 
 tuetur. Quicquid ei gratum eminentia vestra fccerit, 
 id mibi fecisse se cxistimet; id ego in multis vestris 
 erga rac humanit^r et amic6 factis numerabo. 
 
 We$tmonatterio, Maii, an. \6oS. 
 
 Oliverius Protect. Reipub. Angliee, f^c. Eminentia- 
 timo Domino Cardinali Mazarino. 
 
 Eminentissime Domine, 
 
 Cum illustrissimum virum Tbomam Bellassisum 
 Vicecomitem Falconbrigium generum meum serenis- 
 simi regis adventum in caslra ad Dunkirkam gratula- 
 tum mitterem, eidem preecepi, ut vestram quoque cmi- 
 nentiam adiret, meoque nomine et plurimam salutcm 
 dicat, ct gratias vobis agat, cujus potissimum fide, pru- 
 dentia, vigilantia perfectum est, ut res Gallica tam di- 
 vei-sis in partibus, et praesertim in vicina Flandria con- 
 tra Hispanum bostem communem tam prospere gcratur: 
 a quo nunc celeriter, uti spero, fraudum et insidiarum, 
 quibus se maxime tuetur, aperta atque armata virtus 
 poenas reposcet : quod uti fiat quam eitissim^, nos certe 
 neque copiis, quantum possumus, neque votis deerimus. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, Maii, an. 1638. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglice, ^-c. Serenissimo 
 ac Potentissimo Principi Ludovico Gallia Regi. 
 
 Serenissime potcntissimcque Rex, amice ac foederate 
 augustissime, 
 
 Ut nuntiatum est venisse in castra majestatem ves- 
 tram, tantisque copiis infame illud opidum piratarum 
 atque asylum Dunkirkam obsedisse, et magnam cepi 
 voluptatem, et spem certam, fore nunc brevi, Deo bene 
 juvante, ut infestum miniis posthac latrociniis mare 
 tutius navigetur; fore ut Hispanicas fraudes, ducem 
 alterum ad Hesdenae proditionem auro corruptum, 
 alterum ad Ostendam dolo captum, virtute bellica ma- 
 jestas vestra nunc brevi vindicet. Mitto itaque nobi- 
 lissimum virum Thomam Vicecomitem Falconbrigium 
 generum meum, qui et adventum vestrum in tam pro- 
 pinqua nobis castra gratularetur, et coram exponat 
 quanto nos studio majestatis vestra; res gestas non 
 junctis solum viribus nostris, sed votis etiam omnibus 
 prosequamur, uti Deus opt. max. et ipsam incolumem, 
 et nostram amicitiam firmissimam communi orbis 
 Christiani bono quam diutissimd conservet. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, Maii, an. 1658. 
 
 Sere7iissimo Principi Ferdinando, Duci Magno He- 
 truriee. 
 
 Serenissime Dux Magnc, 
 Cum celsitudo vestra in omnibus quidem Uteris suis 
 summam erga nos benevolentiam suam nobis semper 
 significaverit, dolemus id pra?fectis vestris ac ministris 
 aut tam obscure significatum, aut tam male esse intel- 
 lectum, ut in portu Libemensi, ubi maxime quae ves- 
 tra sit erga nos benevolentia intelligi oporteret, nos 
 nullum ejus fructum aut indicium perciperc queamus ; 
 immo alienum potius et hostilem vcstrorum in nos 
 animum indies experiamur. Quam enim non amicis 
 nostra classis Liburnensibus usa nuperrime sit, quam 
 nullis adjuta rebus, quam hosliiiter denique accepta 
 bis ab illo oppido discedcre coacta sit, cum ex eo ipso 
 loco raultis testibus fide dignis, tum ex ipso navarcbo 
 
LTTERiE OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 817 
 
 nostro, ciii ciim classem credamus, narrandi fidem de- 
 rog-are non possumus, satis videimir nobis nimisque 
 certo cog'novisse. Priore ejus adventu cal. Jan. post 
 redditas celsitudini vestrae literas nostras, vestraque 
 omnia humanitatis officia nostris horainibus ultro de- 
 lata, petentibus ut portus Ferrarii comnioditate uti lice- 
 ret, responsiim est, id concedi non posse, no rex His- 
 paniiE scilicet noster hostis oflTenderetur. Et tamen 
 qnid est quod princeps amicus amico praebere commu- 
 nius possit, qujLni littoris ac portus aditum? quid est 
 quod nos cxpectare ab hujusmodi amicitia possimus, 
 quoe bostium nostrorum aniinum ne oflendat, incom- 
 modare nobis quam commodare, aut vel minimis re- 
 bus subvenire paratior sit? Et primo quidem ex sin- 
 gulis navibus duobus vel tribus nautisduntaxat excen- 
 sus in terram, sive commercium (quam vos practicam 
 vocatis) est datum : niox ut auditum est in oppido, na- 
 vem quandam Bclg-icani, quae frumentum in Hispaniam 
 portabat, a nostris esse interceptam, quod erat antea 
 conimercii statim adimitur; Long'landius, qui nostris 
 illis mercatoribus praesidet, classem adire non permit- 
 titur; aquatio, quee omnibus non pland hostibus libera 
 est, non sibi nisi sub armatis custodibus iniquo pretio, 
 et quidem egerrime praebetur : tot nostris mercatoribus, 
 qui non sine maximo vcstrorum cmolumento illic ver- 
 santur, suos ne invisant populares aut ulla re adjuvcnt 
 interdicitur. Posteriore ejus adventu, sub exitum men- 
 sis Martii, egressus ex navibus nemini datur: quinto 
 post die ciim naviculam quandam Neapolitanam prae- 
 toria navis nostra incidentcm in nos fort^ excepisset, 
 ducenta plus minus tormcnta ab oppido classem versus 
 disploduntur, quorum nullum ictu nos Isesit ne attigit 
 quidem : quod arguniento esse potest quam longe hcec 
 a portu atquc castelli ditione in alto gererentur, quae 
 vestros quasi portu riolato sic sine causa irritarunt : 
 confestim aquatorum nostrorum scapbte intra portum 
 oppugnantur; una capitur, dctinetur ; reposcentibus 
 neque scapham neque homines redditum iri rcsponde- 
 tur, nisi capta ilia navis Neapolitana reddatur, quam 
 constat libero mari captani, ubi capi licuit. Ita nostri 
 multis modis incommodali sine illo commcatu, quern 
 numerata pecunia coemerant, abire denuo coguntur. 
 Hasc si celsitudinisvesti-ce voluntate ac jussu quod spe- 
 ramus non fiunt, pctimus id ostendat pnefecti illius sup- 
 plicio, qui amicilias domini sui violare tarn facile in 
 animum induxit : sin est ut sciente ac volente vestra 
 celsitudine coramissa htec sint, cogitet nos, ut benevo- 
 lentiam vestram plurimi semper fecimus, ita apertas 
 injurias a benevolentia dignoscere didicisse. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, Mail die an. 1658. 
 Vester quoad licet bonus amicus 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Anglise, &c. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angliee, Sfc Serenissimo 
 Potentissimoque Principi LuDOvico Gallice Regi. 
 
 Screnissime potentissimeque rex, amice ac federate 
 augustissime, 
 Quod tam celeriter illustri missa legatione majestas 
 vestra meum officium cumulo rependit, cum singularem 
 
 benignitatem, auimique magnitudinem testata est suara, 
 tum meo etiam honori ac dignitati quantopere faveat, 
 non mihi solum declaravit, verura etiam universo po- 
 pulo Anglicano: quo nomine majestati vestrte, pro eo 
 ac de me merita est, gratias et ago et habeo maximas. 
 De victoria quam conjunctis nostris copiis Deus contra 
 hostes felicissimam dedit, vobiscum una lietor; nostros- 
 que in eo prtelio neque subsidiis vestris, neque majorum 
 suorum bellicse gloriae, neque sute denique virtuti pris- 
 tinoe defuisse,perquam etiam gratumest. De Dunkirka, 
 quam deditioni proximam majestas vestra sperare se 
 scribit, eam nunc deditam tam cito posse me rescribere 
 insuper gaudeo: neque unius urbis jactura duplicem 
 perfidiam Hispanum propediem esse luiturum spero; 
 quod capta urbe altera efFectum esse, velim majestas 
 etiam vestra tam cito possit rescribere. Quod reliquum 
 pollicetur meas rationes curae sibi fore, de co regi op- 
 timo atque amicissimo pollicenti, ejusque legato ex- 
 cellentissimo atque ornatissimo viro duci Crequiensi 
 idem confirmanti, non diffido ; Deumquc opt. max. 
 majestati vestrae reique GaliiciS domi bellique propi- 
 tium exopto. 
 
 Westmotiasterio, die Junii, an. 1658. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angliet, ^c. Eminentissimo 
 Domino Cardinali Mazarino. 
 
 Eminentissime Domine, 
 Cum regi serenissimo per literas gratias agam, qui ho- 
 noris et gratulationis reddendtE causa, suteque hctitiae de 
 nobilissima recenti victoria mecum communicandae le- 
 gationem splendidissimam raisit, ingratus tamen sim, 
 nisi eminentioe quoque vestrte dcbitas simul gratias per 
 literas pcrsolvam ; quae ad testandam suam erga me 
 benevolentiam, meique rebus omnibus quibus potest 
 ornandi studium, nepotem suum prsestantissiraum atque 
 omatissimum adolescentem una misit, et siquem ha- 
 beret apud se propinquiorem aut quem pluris faceret, 
 eum potissimum fuisse missurum scribit : addita etiam 
 ratione, quae ab judicio tanti viri profccta ad meam 
 baud mediocrem laudem atque ornamentum pertinere 
 existimo ; nempe ut qui sanguine conjunctissimi sibi 
 sunt in me honorando atque colendo emincntiam suam 
 imitarentur. Et humanitatis quidem, candoris, ami- 
 citiae vestrum in me diligendo exemplum baud postre- 
 mum fortasse habuerint ; summae virtutis sumraeeque 
 prudential alia in vobis longe clariora; quibus regna 
 resque maximas summa cum gloria administrare dis- 
 cant. Qua res uti possit eminentia vestra quam diutis- 
 sime quamque felicissime gerere ad totius regni Gallici, 
 inimo totius reip. Christianae commune bonum, ves- 
 trumque proprium decus, non defutura mea vota polli- 
 ceor. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, 
 die Junii, an. 1658. 
 
 Eminentise vestrae studiosissimus. 
 
 Oliverius Protector Reip. Angliee, %-c. Serenissimo 
 Potentissimoque Principi Carolo Gustavo, Sueco- 
 rum, Gothorum, Vandalorumque Regi, ^c. 
 
818 
 
 LITERS OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 Serenissime potentissimeque Rex, amice ac Aederatc 
 charissime, 
 
 QuoTiEs communium relig-ionis hostium importuna 
 consilia variasque artes iiituemur, toties nobiscum repu- 
 tamus, quam necessariuni orbi Cbristiano, quunique sa- 
 lutare sit futurum, quo facilius adversariorum conati- 
 bus iri obviaru possit, protestantium priucipes iuter sc, 
 et potissinium iiiajestatcm vestrain cum repub. nostra 
 arctissimo foDdere coiijungi. Id anobisquantopcre fit, 
 quantoque studio expetitum, quam denique gratum no- 
 bis accidisset, si Suecorum nostrteque res ea conditione 
 ac loco fuissent, ut foedus illudex utriusque aiiimi sen- 
 tCDtia sanciri, alterque alteri opportunissimo auxilio 
 esse potuisset, oratoribus vestris, ex quo primiim illi 
 hoc apud nos eg-erunt, testatum reddidimus. Neque 
 vero illi suo muneri defuerunt; sed quam coeteris in 
 rebus consueverunt, eandem hac quoque in parte pru- 
 dentiam ac dilig-cutiam adhibuerunt. Yeriim ea nos 
 domi improborum civium perfidia exercuit qui in fidem 
 saepius recepti, res novas tamen moliri, et cum exulibus, 
 etiam cum bostibus Hispanis discussa jamsaepe et pro- 
 flig^ata consilia repetere nou desinunt, ut in propulsan- 
 dis periculis propriis occupati, neque curam omnem, 
 neque integras opes quod in votis erat, ad communem 
 religionis causam tuendam convertere hactenus potue- 
 rimus. Quod licuit tamen, quantumque in nobis situm 
 erat, et antea studiose praestitimus, et siquid in poste- 
 rum majcstatis restne rationibus conducere videbitur, 
 id non velle solum, verum etiam summa ope vobiscum 
 una ajjere per occasiones non desistemus. Interea 
 majcstatis vestrte rebus prudentissimd fortissimeque 
 gestis gratulamur atque ex animo leetamur : eundem- 
 que uti velit Deus felicitatis atque victoriee cursum esse 
 quam diuturnum ad sui numinis gloriam assiduis pre- 
 cibus exoptamus. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, Junii die, an. 1658. 
 
 Oliterius Protector Reip. Anglice, Sfc. Serenissimo 
 Principi Lusitaniee Regi. S. P. D. 
 
 Serenissime Rex, amice ac foederate, 
 
 OsTENDiT nobis per libellum suppliccm Joannes 
 Buffield, mercator Londinensis, se anno 1649, merces 
 quasdam Antonio Joanni et Manueli Ferdinando Cas- 
 taneo Tamirensibus tradidisse, ut iis divenditis earum 
 rationem niercatorum more sibi redderent: tum in 
 Angliam dum navigaret, in piratas incidisse, spolia- 
 tumque ab iis damnum baud mediocre accepisse: hoc 
 audito, Antonium et Manuclem eo quod huncinterfec- 
 tum credebant, traditas sibi merces statim pro suis ba- 
 buisse, adhuc etiam retinere, rationemque omnem de 
 iisrecusare; atque buic fraudi subsecutam paulo post 
 Anglicarum mercium proscriptionem obtendere; co- 
 actum se demum superiore anno, hyeme media in Lu- 
 sitaniam redire, sua repetere ; sed frustra ; bos cnim 
 neque bona neque rationem ut reddant adduci posse; 
 et quod mirum sane videatur, privatam illarum mer- 
 cium possessionem proscriptione publica defendere : 
 cum videret se hominem longinquum deteriore condi- 
 tione cum Tamirensibus in sua patria contendere, ad 
 
 majestatem vcstram se confugisse ; conservatoris judi« 
 cium, qui judicandis Anglorum causis ccnstitutus est, 
 suppliccm poposcisse ; k majestate vestra rursus ad 
 forcusem illam cognitioncm, unde confugcrat, rcjectum 
 esse. Quod etsi per se iuiquum non est, tamen cum 
 perspicuum sit Tamirenses istos vestro edicto publico 
 ad suam privatam fraudem abuti, a majestate vestra 
 majorem in niodum petimus, ut causam hujus mullis 
 casibus afflicti, ad iuopiamque redacti, ad conscrvato- 
 rem potius judiccm proprium velit pro sua dementia 
 integram remittere : quo possit inops fortunarum sua- 
 rum quod superest ab illorum hominum infida societate 
 recnperare : id, re cognita, quin majestati vestrae no- 
 biscum una maxime placeat non dubitamus. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, die Aug. an. 1658. 
 
 Serenissimo Principi Leopoldo Austria Archiduci, 
 Provinciarum in Belgio sub Philippo Hispnniarum 
 Regi Prasidi. 
 
 Serenissime Domine, 
 
 Carolcs Harbordus, vir equestris apud nos ordinis, 
 per libellum suppliccm ad nosdetulit, se bona qutedam 
 et suppellectilem cum ex Hollandia Brugas in ditionem 
 vestrara asportasset, de iis, ne sibi per vim atque inju- 
 riam eripiantur, inopinatu periclitari. Ea nerape, cum 
 a Comite Suffolchiensi pro quo se grandi eere alicuo 
 obstrinxerat, ex Anglia an. 1643. missa ad se idcirco 
 fuissent, ut haberet, quo sibi satisfaceret, siquid pro illo 
 dissolvere cogeretur, a Richardo Grenvillo, qui et ipse 
 equestris ordinis esse fertur, occupari, et quo in loco 
 custodiebantur, effractis foribus atque articulis possi- 
 deri : hoc solo titulo, deberi sibi nescio quid a Theo- 
 philo Suffolchiensi comite defuncto, ex quodam nostree 
 curiae Cancellariae decreto, eaque proinde bona quasi 
 Theophili Comitis essent, eiquc decreto obnoxia,se re- 
 ferenda in tabulas curasse : cum ex nostris legibus ne- 
 que ipse comes, qui nunc est, et cujus hsec bona sunt, 
 eo decreto teneatur, neque bona ejus occupari aut re- 
 tineri debeant : id quod ex sententia ejusdem curiae 
 una cum hisce Uteris ad vos missa, declaratur, quas 
 quidem literas supradictus Carolus Harbordus a nobis 
 pctiit, uti per eas celsitudinem vestram rogatam velle- 
 mus, ut bona ilia et recensione onini, et iniqua ista 
 Richardi Grenvilli actione, primo quoque tempore libc- 
 rentur: cum hoc contra morem jusque gentium plaud 
 sit, at cuiquam in aliena ditione ea de re actio detur, 
 quae in ea regione, ubi causa actionis orta est, Icgitimd 
 dari non possit. Hanc causam ut celsitudini vestrae 
 commendaremus, et ipsa justitiie ratio, et prcedicata 
 passim vestra aequanimitas permovit. Quod siquo 
 tempore usus venerit, ut de jure aut commodis vestro- 
 rum apud nos agatur, baud remissa profecto nostra 
 studia, immo omni tempore propensissima experturos 
 vos esse polliceor. 
 
 Westmonasterio. 
 
 Cclsitudinis Vestree Studiosissimus, 
 Oliverius, Protector Reip. Angliee, &c. 
 
I,ITER.E OLIVERII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 819 
 
 SupremcB Curia Parlamenti Parisiensis. 
 Nos commissarii magni sigilli Angliae, &c. supre- 
 mam curiam parlamenti Parisiensis rogatam volumus 
 curare velit uti Miles, Gulielrhus, et Maria Sandys, de- 
 functi nuper Gulielmi Sandys et Elizabethae Soamae 
 uxoris ejus liberi, natione Ang-li, eetate nondum adulta, 
 
 Parisiis, ubi nunc in supradictee curiae tutela sunt, ad 
 nos quamprimum redirepossint; eosque liberos Jacobo 
 Mowato Scoto, viro probo atque bonesto velit commit- 
 tere, cui nos banc curam delegavimus, ut eos et inde 
 accipcret, et ad nos hue adduceret: recipimusque, oc- 
 casione bujusmodi oblata, jus idem atque oequum sub- 
 ditis Galilee quibuscunque ab bac curia redditum iri. 
 
 LITERS RICHARDI PROTECTORIS 
 
 NOMINE SCRIPTiE. 
 
 RiCHARDUs Protector Reip. AnglitB, Src. Serenissimo 
 ac Potentissimo Principi LuDOVico Galliatitm Itegi. 
 
 Serenissime ac potentissinie Rex, amice ac ftedcratc, 
 
 Cum serenissimus pater meuS gloriosaR memoriae 
 Oliverius reip. Angliae protector, omnipotente Deo sic 
 volente, supremum.jam diem tertio Septembris obierit, 
 ego successor ejus iA hoc magistratu legitime declara- 
 tus, tamctsi in summo moerore ac luctu, non potui tamen 
 quin de re tanta primo quoque tempore majestatcm 
 vestram per literas ccrtiorem faccrem, quam et mei 
 patris et bujus reip. aroicissimam hoc nuntio repentino 
 baud Icetaturam esse confido. Meum nunc esta vestra 
 majestatepetcre, de me sic velit existimare, ut qui nihil 
 dcliberatius in animohabeam,quam socictatem et ami- 
 citiam qua; gloriosissimo meo parent! vestra cum ma- 
 jestate fuit, summa fide atque constantia colcre; ejusque 
 foedera, consilia, rationes vobiscum institutas eodem 
 studio ac benevolentia observare ratasque habere : le- 
 gatum proindc apud vos nostrum eadem qua prius 
 potestate prceditum volo : quicquid id nostro nomine 
 vobiscum egcrit, ita accipere velitis rogo quasi a me 
 ipso actum id esset. Vestrae deniquc majestati compre- 
 cor fausta omnia. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, 5 Septemh. 1658. 
 
 Eminentissimo Domino Cardinali Mazarino. 
 
 Eminentissime Domine, 
 QuANUUAM nihil mihi acerbius accidere potuit, quam 
 de serenissimi et praeclarissimi patris mei obitu scriberc, 
 tamen cum sciam quanti ille fecerit eminentiam vestram, 
 quanti vos ilium, neque dubitem quin eminentia vestra, 
 cui summa rei Gallicae commissa est, amici ac foederati 
 tam constantis tamque conjuncti mortem molestissime 
 latura sit, permagni referre arbitratus sum, ut earn 
 quoque, simul cum rege, de hoc casu gravissimo per 
 literas monerem ; vobisque etiam, quoniara id sequum 
 est, confirmarem, me ea omnia sanctissime praestiturum 
 ad quae proestanda vobis, rataque babendaserenissimae 
 memorise pater meus foedere tenebatur: perficiamque 
 ut ilium, utpote vobis amicissimum omnique laude flo- 
 rentem, cum amissum merito doletis, qudra minime 
 3 G 
 
 tamen quod ad servandam societatis fidem attinet, de- 
 sideretis: cui etiam ad utriusque gentis commune bonum 
 vestra quoque ex parte servandae Deus eminentiam 
 vestram quam diutissime conscrvet. 
 Westmonasterio, Septemb. 1658. 
 
 RiCHARDUS Protector Reip. Anglice, ^c. Serenissimo 
 ac Potentissimo Principi Carolo Gustavo, Sue- 
 corum, Gothorum, Vandalorumque Regi, ^c. 
 
 Serenissime potentissimeque rex, amice ac focderate, 
 
 Cum videar mihi patcrnam virtutem vix satis posse 
 imitari, nisi casdem quoque amicitias colam et retinere 
 cupiam, quas ipse ct virtute sibi queesivit, et sibi esse 
 maxime colcndas ac retincndas judicio singulari duxit, 
 non est quod dubitet majestas vestra, quin eodem se 
 prosequi studio ac benevolentia debeam, qua pater 
 meus memoriee serenissimre est prosecutus. Tametsi 
 igitur in hoc magistratus ac dignitatis initio non co 
 loco res nostras reperiam, ut in prsesentia possim ad qute- 
 dam capita respondere, quoe oratores vestri in medium 
 protulcrunt, tamen et institutum a patre foedus cum 
 majestate vestra continuare, et arctius etiam conjungere, 
 mihi quidem magnopere placet; rerumque utrinque 
 statum simul ac plenius intellixero, ad ea transigenda 
 quse cum utriusque reip. commodispotissimum conjunc- 
 ta esse videbuntur, ero equidem semper, ad me quod 
 attinet, promptissimus. Deus interim majestatcm ves- 
 tram, ad gloriam suam et ortbodoxce ecclesiae tutelam 
 atque preesidium, quam diutissim^ conservet. 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, Octob. 1658. 
 
 Richardus Protector Reip. Anglia, Sfc. Serenissimo 
 ac Potentissimo Principi Carolo Gustavo, Sue- 
 corum, Gothorum, Vandalorumque Regi, Magno 
 Priticipi FinlandicB, Duci Scania, JEsthonia, Ca- 
 relicB, BremcB, Verda;, Stetini, Pomeranice, Cassubia, 
 et Vandalice, Principi Rugiee, Domino Ingrits et 
 Wismaria, necnon Comiti Palatino Rhcni, Bavarite, 
 Juliaci, Clivite, et Montium Duci. 
 
 Serenissime, potentissime rex, amice ac federate, 
 
 BiNAS accepi a majestate vestra literas ; alteras per 
 nuncium suum, alteras legato nostro D. Philippo Mea- 
 
820 
 
 LITEILE RICHARDl PROTECTORIS. 
 
 doH's, ad rac transmissas. Ex quibus non sulum do- 
 lorcm suum de obitu patris niei screnissimi veris aninii 
 sensibus exprcssuni, deque ipso majestas vestra quuni 
 preclartl! seiiserit, veruin etiam de me quoqiic ejus in 
 locum suspecto quaiitam spem ceperit cognovi. Et ad 
 paternte quidcm laudis cumulum nihil posthac amplius 
 aut illustrius tanto authore acccdcre potest, meis ccrtc 
 in capcssenda repub. auspiciis nihil fclicius tanto grata- 
 latore, ad virtutcs denique patrias tanquam htereditatem 
 optimam adeundas nihil quod accendat vehementius 
 tanto hortatore potuit accidere. Ad rationes majes- 
 tatis Testrac de rommuni Protestantium causa no- 
 biscum initas quod spcctat, sic velim existimet, me 
 quidem ex quo ad haec gubernacula accessi, quan- 
 quam eo loco res nostrie sunt, ut summam diligenti- 
 am, curani, vigilantiam domi potissimum requirant, 
 nihil tamen antiquius aut deliberatius babuisse aut 
 habere, quam patcrno frederi cum majestate vestra per- 
 cusso quantum in me erit non deesse. Classem itaque 
 in marc Balticum mittendam cum iis niandatis curavi, 
 quae internnncius noster, quem ad hoc totum negotium 
 amplissime instruximus, majestati vcstrae communica- 
 bit. Quam Deus opt. max. inculunieni, prosperisqne 
 rerum successibus fortunatissiraam, ad orthodoxam fidem 
 tutandam diutissime conservet. 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, 
 die 13 Octoh. 1658. 
 
 RiCHARDUs Protector Serenissimo ac Potentissimo 
 Principi Carolo Gustavo, Suecorum, Gothoriim, 
 Vandalorumque Regi, ^c. 
 
 Serenissime, potentissimeque rex, amice ac federate, 
 
 MiTTO ad majestatem vestram, quo nihil dignius aut 
 proestantius possum mittere, virum vcr^ egregium, vere- 
 que nobilem Georgium Aiscoum, equitem auratum, non 
 solum belli, et navalis prsesertim scientia multis ex re- 
 bus fortiter gestis cognitum jam saepe atque spectatum, 
 verum etiam probitate, modestia, ingenio, doctrina 
 preeditum, moribus suavissimis nemini non charum, et, 
 quod nunc caput rei est, sub signis majestatis vestrae 
 virtu te bellica to to orbe terrarum florcntissimoe jam diu 
 mereri cupientem. Velimque sic habeat majestas ves- 
 tra, quicquid huic viro muneris commiserit, in quo 
 fides, fortitudo, experientia constarc vel etiam praelucere 
 possit, neque fideliori neque fortiori, nee facile peritiori 
 posse se quicquam committere. Quae autem ego illi 
 negotia dedero communicanda vestrae majestati, in iis 
 expeditum aditum, aurem benignam velit rogo proe- 
 bere, eamque fidem, quam nobismetipsis coram fuisset 
 habitura; eum denique honorem, quem tali viro et suis 
 meritis et nostra commendatione ornatissimo convenire 
 judicavcrit. Deus res vestras ad gloriam suam et or- 
 tbodoxoe ecclesiae praesidium felici exitu fortunet. 
 Westmonasterio ex Aula nostra, 
 die Octob. 1658. 
 
 RiCHARnus Protector Reip. AnglicB, ffc. Serenissimo 
 Potentissimoque Principi Carolo Gustavo, Sueco- 
 rum, Gothorum, Vandalorumque Regi, ^c. 
 
 Serenissime potentissimeque rex, aniicc ac foederatc 
 
 charissime, 
 
 Detulit ad nos per libellum supplicem Samuel Pig- 
 gottus, Londinensis mcrcator, se nuper naves duas 
 (quarum altcri nomcn Posta;, magisler Tiddeus Jaco- 
 bus ; alteri The Water-Dog, magister Garbrand Peters) 
 Londiuo in Galliam negotiandi causa misisse ; cas inde 
 sale onustas Amsterodamum pctisse ; Amsterodanio 
 alteram saburra tantiim, alteram halece impositas cu- 
 jus cum Petro quodam Heinsbergo societas crat in 
 mare Balticum Stetinum usque Pomeraniee, qu<v in 
 vestra ditione est, ad exponendara illic balecem navi- 
 gasse ; veriira utrasquc hasce naves accepisse se alicubi 
 maris Baltici a copiis quibusdam vestris detineri ; 
 tametsi ut huic malo occurreret cum utraque nave sjn- 
 graphara sigillo curiae maritimae obsignatam uni cura- 
 verit mittendam, qua et navium harum et mercium, 
 excepta halccis parte supradicta, unum se esse ac logi- 
 timum dominum demonstraret. Cujus rei cum fidem 
 apud nos plenam fecerit, peto magnopere a majestate 
 vestra (quandoquidem duarum navium jactura sine 
 summo hominisdetrimentofortunarumque forte omnium 
 naufragio vix posse accidere videtur) uti mandet suis 
 atque imperet illarum navium liberam primo quoque 
 tempore dimissioneni. Deus majestatem vestram, ad 
 gloriam suam ecclesiseque orthodoxae prtesidium, quam 
 diutissime servet incolumem. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, Jan. 27. an. 1658. 
 
 RiCHARDUS Protector Reip. Anglice, ^c. Celsis et 
 Potentibus Dominis Occidentalis Frisia Polestati- 
 bus, S. D. 
 
 Celsi et potentes domini, amici ac foederati charissimi, 
 Gravem ad me detulit querelam per libellum sup- 
 plicem Maria Grinderia vidua, cum sibi a Thoma Kil- 
 legraeo vestro milite pecunia bene magna ante annos 
 octodecim debeatur, se eum ne nullo modo adducere 
 per procuratorem posse, neque utdebitum solvat, neque 
 ut de jure suo, si quid sit, velit lege experiri ; id ne a 
 procuratore viduae cogi possit, petisse eum a cclsitudi- 
 nibus vestris per libellum supplicem, ne cui liceat eum 
 lege persequi uUius pecuniae ab se in Anglise debitae. 
 Ego vero si celsitudinibus vestris hoc tantum signifi- 
 cavero, viduam esse, egenam esse, multorum matrem 
 parvulorum, cujus iste omnes prope fortunas avertere 
 conatur, non committam ut apud vos, quibus divina 
 preecepta atque adeo de viduis pupillisque non oppri- 
 mendis notissima esse confido, graviore ulla utendum 
 cohortatione putem, ne hoc fraudandi privilegium pe- 
 titioni istius concedere velitis : id quod nunquam con- 
 cessuros vos esse mihi persuadeo. 
 
 Westmonast. ex Aula nostra, Jan. 27. 1658. 
 
 RiCHARDUS Protector Reip. Anglice, Sfc. Serenissimo 
 Potentissimoque Principi LuDOVico Gallia Regi. 
 
 Serenissime potentissimeque rex, amice ac foederate 
 augustissime, 
 AccEPiMus, idque non sine dolorc, quasdam in pro- 
 vincia protestantes ecclesias ab homine quodam male 
 
LITERS RICHARDII PROTECTORIS. 
 
 821 
 
 feriato ita indigne fiiisse in sacris concionibus interpel- 
 latas, ut ea res magistratibus, ad quos hujus causae 
 cog-nitio Gratianopoli ex lege pertinebat, gravi animad- 
 versione digna conseretur: sed conventum Cleri, qui 
 iis in locis proxime habebatur, a majestate vestra im- 
 petrasse, ut res integra Parisios ad concilium rcgium 
 revocarctur: a quo dum nibil hactenus decernitur, cc- 
 clesias illas et prapserlim Aquariensem, convenirc ad 
 colendum Deum prohiberi. Veheraenter itaque a 
 majestate vestra etiam atque etiam peto, primum, ut 
 quorum preces ad Deum pro salute sua rebusque regni 
 prosperis non interdicit, eorum coitus publicos ad pre- 
 candum interdicere ne velit : deinde ut in ilium homi- 
 nem rei divinae interpellatorem ex sententia illorum 
 judicum, quibus bujusmodi causarum legitima atque 
 consueta cognitio Gratianopoli data est,animadvertatur. 
 Deus majestatem vestram quam diuturnam atque inco- 
 lumem conservet ; ut si hfsc nostra vota vobis accepta 
 sunt, Deoque grata esse existimatis, eadem ab illis 
 etiam protestantibus ecclesiis quibus nunc interdicitur, 
 pro vobis publice fieri, sublato illo interdicto, quam 
 primum velitis. 
 
 Westmonasterio, 18 Feb. an. 1658. 
 
 Eminentissimo Domino Cardinali Mazarino. 
 
 Emineutissimc domine cardinalis, 
 
 Proficiscitur in Galliam, ibique ad tempus com- 
 morari cogitat illustrissima domina defuncti nuper du- 
 els Ricbmondiae uxor cum duce filio adolescentulo. 
 Eminentiam itaque vestram magnopere rogo, ut siquid 
 accident in quo iis vestra authoritate, favore, patrocinio, 
 utpote peregrinis, usus esse possit, ita eorum digni- 
 tatem tueri, vobisque baud vulgariter commendatam 
 rebus omnibus habere velitis, ut ad vestram humanita- 
 tem erga omnes, praesertim tam illustri genere oriundos, 
 eximiam, scntiant nostris Uteris quod accedere potuit 
 cumuli accessisse : simul et boo sibi persuadeat emi- 
 nentia vestra commendationem suam, si quid a me 
 bujusmodi postulabit, apud me non minus valituram. 
 
 Westmonasterio, 29 Feb. 1658. 
 
 RiCHARDUS Protector Reip. Anglice, ^c. Serenissimo 
 ac Potentissimo Principi Joanni Portugalliee Regi. 
 
 Serenissimepotentissimeque rex, amice ac federate, 
 
 Tametsi multa sunt quae ad regem amicum et reip. 
 iiostrae conjunctissimum necessario scribam, nihil est 
 tamen quod faciam libentius quam quod nunc facio, ut 
 majestati vestrse, regnoque Portugalliee insignem banc 
 proximam de communi hoste Hispano victoriam gra- 
 tuler: qua non ad vestram tantummodo, verum etiam 
 ad Europae totius pacem ac respirationem, permagnum, 
 atque in multos fortasse annos, allatum esse momentum 
 nemo est quin intelligat. Alterum est in quo victori- 
 arum certissimum pignus justitiam majestatis vestrae 
 agnoscam, qua ex articulo federis 24, per arbitros Lon- 
 dini datos, mercatoribus nostris est satisfactum, quorum 
 naves onerarias Brasiliensis socictas conduxit. Unus 
 est Alexander Bencius, mercator Londinensis, cui, cum 
 iiavis ejus, quae Tres Fratres vulgo nominatur, raagistro 
 
 Joanne Wilkio, duas navigationes conducta onerata- 
 que navavcrit, pactum stipendium persolvere societas 
 recusat : cum caetcris qui scmel tantum navigarunt,* 
 jampridem pei-solutum sit. Quod cur sit factum non 
 intclligo, nisi si eorum judicio mcrcede dignior est, qui 
 semcl quiim qui bis meruerit. Vehementer itaque peto 
 a majestate vestra, ut huic uni Alexandre, cui duplum 
 debetur,dcbita navata; operoe satisfactio ne dcfiat; velit- 
 que pro authoritate sua quam brevissimura solutionis 
 diem daninique simul sarcicndi sociis Brasiliensibus 
 constituere : quorum diiationibus effectum est, ut datum 
 inde mercatori damnum mcrcedem ipsam jam pene 
 superat. Deus majestatem vestram laetis rerum succes- 
 sibus contra hostem augere indies et fortunare pergat. 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, 23 Feb. an. 1658. 
 
 RiCHARDUS Protect. Reip. Angliee, !fc. Eminentissimo 
 Domino Cardinali Mazarino. 
 
 Eminentissime domine. 
 
 Per literas ad eminentiam vestram octo circiter ab- 
 hinc mensibus Juu. 13 datas, causam Petri Petti, viri et 
 siiigulari probitate pnediti et egregiis artibus in re na- 
 vali nobis rcique publicae utilissimi, comniendavimus. 
 Ejus nave Edwardo anno 1646 d quodam Gallo, cui 
 nomen Basconi, Thamesis in ostio, ut scripsimus, cap- 
 ta, et in portu Bonouiensi vendita, quanquam rex in 
 concilio regio 4 Novemb. anno 1647 decreverat, ut 
 quam censuisset consilium pecuniae sumniam damni 
 accepti loco dandam, satisfactioni daretur, is tamen ex 
 eo decreto nihildum se fructus percepisse ostendit. Cilm 
 autem dubium mibi non sit, quin eminentia vestra meo 
 rogatu id omne mandaverit quod ad decretum illud 
 prinio quoque tempore exequendum pertineret, denuo 
 nunc majoremque in modum peto, ut videre velit quid 
 impedimento sit, cujusve negligentia aut contumacia 
 factum, ut decreto regio post annos jam decem non ob- 
 temperetur ; velitquc pro sua authoritate instare, ut 
 decreta ilia pccunia, quam irrogatam jamdiu existima- 
 mus, et exigatur quamprimum, et petitori nostro solva- 
 tur. Ita rem justitiac imprimis gratam eminentia vestra 
 fecerit, et a me singularem praeterea gratiam inierit. 
 
 Westmonasterio, ex Aula nostra, 22 Feb. 1658. 
 
 Duae sequentes Literce, Richardo abdicate, Restitati 
 Parlamenti nomine scripti sunt. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. AnglioB serenissimo potentissi- 
 mogue Principi Carolo Gustavo, Suecorum, Go- 
 thorum, Vandalorumque Regi, Sfc. 
 
 Serenissime potentissimeque rex, amice charissime. 
 
 Cum visum sit Deo optimo atque omnipotenti, penes 
 quem solum conversiones omnes regnorum, rerumque 
 publicarum sunt, nos pristinae auctoritati summaeque 
 rerum Anglicarum administrandae restituere, et majes- 
 tatem vestram ea de re certiorem esse faciendam im- 
 primis duximus, et vobis porro sig^ificandum, nos cum 
 
822 
 
 LITER.E RICHARDI PROTECTORTS. 
 
 niajestatis vestrae utpote Protestantium principis potcn- 
 tissimi turn pacis inter vos Dauiacque regem, ct ipsum 
 quoquc Protcstantium principem preepotentem, non 
 sine nostra opera atque officio bcnevolentissimo recou- 
 ciliandte, quantum in nobis situm est, esse studiosissi- 
 mos. Volumus itaque ut intcmuntio nostro extraor- 
 dinario, Philippo Meadowes, quo munere ab hac repub. 
 apud majestatcm vcstram hactenus fungitur, idem om- 
 nino munus nostro nunc nomine prorogctur : eiquc 
 adco bis nostris Uteris potestatcm proponendi, agendi, 
 transigendi cum majestate vestra facimus pland ean- 
 dem quae ci proximis litcris commendatitiis facta est : 
 quicquid ab co transactum nostro nomine atque con- 
 clusum erit, id omne ratum nos esse habituros, Deo 
 bene juvante, nostra fide spondemus. Deus illc majes- 
 tatcm vestram quam diutissime conservet, rebus Pro- 
 tcstantium columen atque preesidium. 
 
 Guil. Lenthall, Prolocutor Parlamenti 
 Reipub. Angliee. 
 Westmonasterio, Man 15, an. 1659. 
 
 Parlamentum Reipub. AnglicB Serenissimo Principi 
 Frederico Danm Regi. 
 
 Serenissime rex, amice cbarissime, 
 Cum voluntate ac nutu summi rerum omnium mode- 
 ratoris Dei opL max. factum sit ut nos demum restituti, 
 
 pristinum locum atque munus in rcpublica gcrenda ob- 
 tincamus, placuit imprimis ea de re nee majestatem 
 vestram, utpote vicinum nobis ct amicum regem, esse 
 celandam, et quem ex adversis rebus vestris capiamus 
 dolorem simul esse significandum : id quod ex eo studio 
 eaque diligentia nostra facile pcrspicietis quara ad pa- 
 ccm inter majestatem vestram regemquc Suecioe recon- 
 ciliandam et adhibemus nunc, ct, quoad opus erit, adhi- 
 bebiraus. Quapropterintemuntio nostro adserenissimum 
 Suecorum regem cxtraordinario Philippo Meadowes 
 negotium dedimus, ut majestatem vestram bis de rebus 
 nostro deinceps nomine adeat, ea communicet, pro- 
 ponat, agat atque transigat, quse commissa sibi a nobis 
 et mandata esse ostendet. Quam ci fidem majestas 
 vestra hoc in munere babuerit, eam nobisraetipsis ha- 
 bere se credat, rogamus. Deus majestati vestrae ex 
 istis omnibus rerum suarum difficultatibus, in quibus 
 tamen forti et magno animo versatur, felicem Isetumque 
 exitum primo quoque tempore concedat. 
 
 Guil. Lenthall, prolocutor Parlamenti 
 Reipub. Angliae. 
 Westmonasterio, Mail 15, aw. 1659. 
 
 
S C R I P T U M 
 
 DOM. PROTECTORIS REIPUBLICiE ANGLIiE, SCOTIiE, HIBERNLE, &c. 
 
 EX CONSENSU ATQUE SESTENTIA CONCILII SUl EDITUM ; 
 
 IN QUO HUJUS REIPUBLIC^ CAUSA CONTRA HISPANOS JUSTA ESSE DEMONSTRATUR. 
 
 1655. 
 
 QuiBDS causis adducti, quasdam insulas in Occiden- 
 tali India, ab Hispanis jam antca occupatos, adorti 
 nupcr simus, eas et justas esse et ration! quam maxime 
 consentaneas nemo est quin facile intelligat, qni modo 
 secum reputaverit, quomadmodum rex illc, ejusque 
 subditi erga gentem Anglicanam in illo tractu Ameri- 
 cano semper se ffesserint; non aliumnempe ad modum 
 nisi perpetuo plane liostilem ; qui modus sese gerendi 
 ab ipsis et initium habuit injust'ssimum, et ab eo tem- 
 pore contra gentium commune jus, contra foedorum 
 peculiares inter Anglos atque Hispanos leges eadcm 
 est prorsus ratione continuatus. 
 
   I'atcndum quideni est Anglos, his annis proximis, 
 vel iniqua ccquo animo fere pertulisse, vel se duntaxat 
 dcfendisse ; unde forsitan potest fieri, ut nonnulli de ilia 
 nuper in Occidentalem Iiidiam nostne classis profecti- 
 ono ita sentiant, quasi de bello a nobis ultro inccepto 
 atque illato, non quasi de eo, quod re quidem vera ab 
 Hispanis ipsis et prinio ortum atque conflatum, et (quan- 
 quam hsec respublica, quod in se erat, confirmandie 
 pacis, et commcrcii iis in locis babendi causa nihil 
 preetermisit) ab iisdem hactenus coutinuatum summoquc 
 studio gestum reperietur: qui quoties oblata sibi oc- 
 casio est, nullam omnino justam ob causam, nulla in- 
 juria lacessiti, occidere, trucidare, imo sedatis nonnun- 
 quam animis obtruncare nostros illic homines, quos 
 visum est, bonis etiam atque fortunis direptis, co- 
 loniis habitationibusque deletis, navibus, si quas per 
 ilia maria ofTendunt, captis, bostium irao praedonum in 
 numero habere non desinunt. Illius enim nomiuis op- 
 probrio omnes cujuscunque gentis, prceter se solos, affi- 
 ciunt, qui ilia maria navigare audeant. Neque hoc 
 alio jure aut meliore se facere intelligunt, quam Papse 
 nescio qua donatione nixi, et quod partes quasdam 
 illius occidentalis plagse ipsi prirai omnium scrutati 
 sunt: quo nomine ac titulo novi illius orbis jus omne, 
 ac ditionera universam ad se solos pertinere conten- 
 dunt : de quo titulo sane quam absurdo copiosius di- 
 cendi locus crit, ciim ad expendendas eas causas venie- 
 
 iDus, cur Hispani exercere omne genus hostilitatis in 
 nostros illic homines usque eo licere sibi arbitreutur, ut 
 qui illas in oras aut tcmpestate appulsi, aut naufragio 
 cjecti, aliove simili casudelati sunt, eos non utcaptivos 
 ad vincula solum, scd in scrvitutcm etiam redigant, 
 ipsi tamen ruptam sibi pacem etiam in Europa, etgra- 
 vissim6 violatam existiment, si Angli vicissim, paria 
 reddcndi, resque suas repetendi causa, quicquam iis in 
 locis contra eos moliuntur. 
 
 Verum, etiamsi Hispaniee regis apud nos legati, 
 Hispanica factione, qute semper in consilio regis 
 proximi, p?trisque ejus plurimum potuit, confisi, siquid 
 Angli hoc in genere fccissent, levissimis de causis que- 
 rimonias et postulationes iniquas et ridiculas afferre 
 non dubitarint; illi tamen reges, Hispanis licet nimium 
 addicti,suorum subditorum coustringi noluerunt manus, 
 ubi Hispani suas esse solvendas existimarunt : imo 
 vim vi propulsare, et Hispanos, qui ad pacem iis in 
 locis servandam perduci nuUo modo potucrunt, in bos- 
 tium numero habere suis permiserunt. Adeo ut anno 
 circiter millesimo scxcentesimo et quadragcsimo cum 
 hsec res in concilio regis proximi agitata esset, postu- 
 laretque Hispanorura legatus ut naves qusedam in 
 American! profecturae, et in ostio fluminis vela jam fa- 
 cere paratoe prohiberentur, proptcrea quod hostilitatis 
 in Hispanos illic exerccndse potestate essent instructae, 
 simulque ipse jus commercii in Occidcntali India ha- 
 bendi postulantibus per consiliarios quosdam regis, ad 
 cam rem constitutos, Anglis denegaret, placuit ut illae 
 naves institutum iter suum persequerentur, quod et 
 factum est. 
 
 Hactenus praedicti reges subditis suis, bellum iis in 
 locis ob rationes suas privatim suscipientibus, non de- 
 fuerunt: tametsi, propter potentiam Hispanicee fac- 
 tionis supradictae, publice, pro eo ac debuerant, et ex- 
 istimatione gentis pristina dignura erat, causam eorum 
 suscipere noluerunt. Et nobis certe contumeliosum 
 aequ6 et iudignum fuisset, quibus largiente Deo, tot 
 naves ad omuem maritimi belli usum ornatcc atque in- 
 
824 
 
 SCRIPTUM DOM. PROTECTORIS. 
 
 structte in promptu erant, si cas carie potius corrumpi 
 otiosas domi voluissenius, quani ad ulciscendum Ang^- 
 lorum, quidni etiam dicam, Indorutn sang'uineni, ab 
 H'ispanis tain iiijuste tarn inhuman^ totiesque fusum, 
 illis in lucis usui esse : quandoquidem " Deus fecit ex 
 uno sanguine totam gentem hominuin ut habitaret 
 super uuiversa superficie terrce, dcfinitis preestitutis 
 temporibus, et positis terminis habitationis eorum." 
 Et certd Deus, quocunquc id tempore, cujuscunquc id 
 manu administrandum sit, tanti sanguinis inuocentis- 
 simi, tantarum caedium, quibus tot millia Indorum ab 
 Hispanis tarn barbarc occisa sunt, tantarum denique 
 injuriarum, quibus illte gentes raiser6 sunt ab iisdem 
 vexatfe atque oppresste, certissimas aliquando poenas 
 repeti turns est. 
 
 Verum ad communem hominum inter se necessitu- 
 dincm, quoe fratcrna san^ est, quoeque facit ut gravis- 
 simte ct atrocissimae quorumvis mortaJium injuriie ad 
 reliquos omnes pertinere quodaramodo videantur, ne- 
 cesse non est ut recurramus : cum ipsorum hominum 
 nostrorum factae caedes ac spoliationes satis causse quam- 
 obrem a nobis ilia nuper expeditio suscepta sit, satis- 
 que justam vindicandi materiam dederint : ut nequid 
 prseterea nostrarum in prsesentia rationum, ut ne in 
 futurum etiam nostram ipsam sociorumque incolumi- 
 tatem, eorum prtesertim qui orthodoxam rcHgionem 
 colunt, consideremus ; ut alias denique causas, quae 
 illam nobis expeditionem suaserunt, quasque nunc 
 sigillatim enumerare consilium non est, omittamus : 
 cum non causae singula?, sed ipsius rei jus atque 
 cequitas declaranda nobis proponatur. Quod utclarius 
 faciamus, et generatim dicta particulatim explicemus, 
 ad prceterita referre oculos paulisper oportebit : quse- 
 que inter Anglos atque Hispanos transacta sint, quo 
 statu res eorum utrinque, ad se mutud quod attinct, 
 fuerint, ex quo et perlustrata primo Occidentalis Indioe 
 era, et reformata religio est, strictim percurrere. Quae 
 duac res maximee, cum eodem fere tempore accidis- 
 sent, permagnas ubique conversiones orbis terrarum 
 rebus attulcre ; ad Anglos praesertim et Hispanos 
 quod spcctat, qui diversam ab eo tempore et pcn^ 
 contrariam res suas agendi rationcm sccuti sunt. 
 Tametsi enim rex proximus, cjusque pater, advcrsis 
 ferme totius populi Anglidani studiis atque sententiis, 
 duo foedera cura Hispanis quoquo modo sarserunt, di- 
 ▼ersi tamen illi utrorumque sensus ac studia ex diversa 
 relig^one nata, perpetuteque in Occidentali India con- 
 troversiae, et Hispanorum simul, dum suis illic thesau- 
 ris mctuunt, suspicioncs de Anglis ab initio conceptoe, 
 cum bujus reipublicae conatus in assequenda tequis 
 atque bonestis conditionibus pace inutilcs nuper rcddi- 
 dcre, turn preecipuas re vera causas Philippo secUndo 
 prsebuere, ut, regnante Elizabetha, antiquum illud 
 diuque inviolatum focdus, quod huic genti cum major- 
 jbus ejus, tam Burgundici quam Castellani generis 
 intcrcesserat, runiperet, et illato illi regina; bello, na- 
 tionem banc totam subigendam sibi proponcret, idquc 
 ipsum anno supra millesimum quingentesinio octua- 
 gesimoque octavo (dum interea de pace stabilienda 
 agcbatur) omni impctu agg-rederctur : quod quidem in 
 Anglorum animis necesse est adhuc alt^ residere, neque 
 
 inde posse facild erelli. Et quanquam postea pax 
 qua'dam et commercium in Europa fuit (quam vis cjus- 
 modi nunquam ut Anglorum quisquam suam profiteri 
 religionem in Hispanica ditione, aut sacra Biblia ha- 
 bere domi, ne in navi quidem ausus fuerit) in Occiden- 
 tali tamen India Hispanus nunquam ex co tempore, 
 aut pacem esse aut commercium est passus; etianisi in 
 illo foedere Henrici octavi regis Anglioe, cum Carolo 
 quinto imperatore anno raillesimo quingentesimo qua- 
 dragesimo secundo de utraquc ilia re disertis verbis 
 convenisset ; in quo foedere nominatim pax atque libe- 
 rum commercium inter utrosque et utrorumque populos 
 per omnem alterutrius ditionem, portus, et territoria 
 qusecunque snncitum est, sine ulla Occidentalis Indiae 
 exceptione, quamvis illam tunc temporis iraperator ille 
 obtinerct. 
 
 Quod autem ad articulum pacis per universum ter- 
 rarum orbem colendae, is quidem articulus in omnibus 
 pacis foederibus, quae inter utranique geutem unquam 
 extitere, dilucide coutinetur, neque ulla de commcrcio 
 ullo in foedere exceptio habetur ante illud anni mil- 
 lesinii sexcentesimi quarti, cum quo foedus illud postre- 
 mum anni millesimi sexcentesimi trigesimi hac de re 
 per omnia consentit. In quibus duobus proxirais foede- 
 ribus, per omnes atque singulos utriusque imperii fines 
 commercium convenit, " Quibus in locis ante helium" 
 inter Philippum secundum Hispaniae regem, et Eliza- 
 betham Angliae reginam " fuit commercium juxta ct 
 secundum usura et observantiam antiquorum foedcrum 
 et tractatuum ante" id tempus initorum. 
 
 Haec ipsa focderum verba sunt ; quoe rem dubiam 
 relinquunt, atque ita rex Jacobus pacem cum Hispanis 
 quoquo modo conficere satis habuit, ciim eandem de 
 pace tractationem resumeret, quae paulo ant6 mortem 
 Elizabetbae inchoata fuerat, in qua etiam tractatione 
 suis ilia deputatis inter castcra niandaverat, ut de com- 
 mercio libero in Occidentali India habendo instanter 
 agerent. 
 
 Verum rex Jacobus (qui pacis cum Hispanis facien- 
 dag admodum erat cupidus) ita istam clausulam relin- 
 quere contentus erat, ut utrique parti eam suo modo 
 interpretandi facultas esset; quanquam si ilia verba, 
 " usus et observantia antiquorum foederum et tracta- 
 tuum," sic intelligenda sunt (ut par est) juxta et secun- 
 dum id quod jure fieri debuit, non juxta et secundum 
 quod ex parte Hispanorum ad manifestissimam eorum 
 violationem factum est, qutE Anglis querimoniarum, 
 utrisque dissidiorum materia perpctua erat, ex ipsis 
 antiquorum foederum disertis verbis clarissimum est, 
 per omnem Hispanorum ditionem, quajcunque ilia 
 esset, tam coramercii quam pacis jus Anglis fuisse. 
 
 Cceterum si antiqua foedera ct pactiones servandi 
 ratio ab eorum manifesta violatione petenda est, ha- 
 bent Hispani obtentum aliquem sic interpretandi illam 
 in postremis foederibus clausulam, quasi commercium 
 illis in locis exciperet. Et tamen ad diniidiam usque 
 illius temporis partem quod inter supradictum foodus 
 1542, et initiura belli a Philippo secundo contra 
 Elizabetham siiscepti intercessit, quantum ipsis ex 
 rebus gestis intelligi potest, baud minus permitti illis 
 in locis quam prohibcri commercium apparet. At 
 
SCRIPT UM DOM. PROTECTORIS. 
 
 825 
 
 posteaquam Hispani commcrcium omniuo recusarunt, a 
 permutandis mcrcibus ad allernandos ictus ac vulnera 
 deventum est, tam ante bellum inter Pliilippum et Eli- 
 zabethan! ortiim, quam post pacem ab Jacobo rege 
 anno 1604 factam ; alteramque abejus filio anno 1630, 
 ita tamen ut hinc commerciura per Europam non inter- 
 pellaretur; tametsi nunc primum Hispaniae rex, post 
 banc niiper nostrarum rerum retentionem, eorum loco- 
 rum controversias ad haec etiam Europae loca propa- 
 gandas interpretatus est. 
 
 Veriim neque in focderum interpretatione, neque in 
 jure commercii ex illis foederibus, aliavc ratione ha- 
 bendi insistimiis ; quasi in iis fundanienta hujus dis- 
 sidii jacienda necessario sint, cum id clarissimis atquc 
 evidentissimis rationibus nitatur, quod statim planum 
 faciemus. Sunt tamen ejusmodi nonnulla, quoe, etsi 
 bellum iis fundari non ita necesse est, possunt, neque 
 injuria, impedimenta esse sanciendae pacis, aut instau- 
 randi saltem foederis, in quo ea non conceduntur, vel 
 quse in prioribus pactis concessa sunt, vel non irame- 
 rito expectari queunt. Quod etiam pro responso esse 
 potest ad id quod quteritur, quare, quandoquidem an- 
 tiqua foedera cum aliis omnibus populis redintegravi- 
 mus, idem cum Hispanioe rege non fecimus; neque 
 continuo nos in conditionibus fccderis dextrum ejus 
 oculum, multoque minus ambos (quod objicitur) ejus 
 oculos postulasse, si crudclissimse inquisitioni obnoxit 
 esse, ubi commercium pcrmissum est, noluimus, dan- 
 dum que nobis commercium institimus, unde, neque per 
 antiqua foedera, neque communi jure, excludendi sumus. 
 Tametsi enira rex Hispaniae id sumpsit sibi ut nobis 
 commercii leges finesque pranscriberet, Romani ponti- 
 ficis lege quadam fretus, qua is omne commercium 
 cum Turcis, Judseis, aliisque in6delibus vetat,* eoque 
 nomine etiam pacis tempore naves ejus bellicte aliis 
 etiam in locis proeterquam in India Occidentali nostras 
 naves ceperunt et expilarunt, et quanquam simili paptc 
 autlioritate ej usque donationis titulo jus in Indos sibi 
 vendicat, perinde quasi sibi jure essent subjecti, etiam 
 illi, qui neque in potestate neque in fide ejus sunt, nos 
 tamen authoritatem ejusmodi nulLim neque in papa, 
 neque in Hispaniae rege agnoscimus, ut possit vel 
 Indis jus libertatis suoe, vel nobis concessum naturae 
 gentiumque legibus jus versandi cum illis, et commer- 
 cium babendi adimere, cum iis prsesertim, ut supra 
 diximus, qui in potestate ac ditione regis Hispaniae 
 non sunt. 
 
 Alterum impedimentum renovandi frederis cum His- 
 panis manifestum est atque insignc, nee non ejus- 
 modi, ut legatis ac miuistris publicis in Hispanicam 
 ditioneni vel de amicitia vel de alio quovis inter utram- 
 
 * Gulielmus Steplianus Bristoleiisis, aliique merratores aliquot T.ondi- 
 nenses anno 1606 et ^60^, c&in per oraiii Mauritanias tribiis cum n«vibu» 
 commercium cum illis populis liaberent, Hispania: rctis naves, quae per 
 ilia litora pranlabantur, eas nacta in Saphio et Sancn Crucis stalione, 
 dum iu anclions ibi stabant, diripueruiit ; hac sola ratitme reddiia, 
 "Nolle regem dominum siuim cum mtidelibuscommeicium permittere :" 
 quorum damna ampliusduobus millibus librarum aestimata sunt. 
 
 t Hoc constat ex literis parlamenti, prolocutoris manu obsignatis, ad 
 Hispanic regera mense Januario 1650, his verbis ; " Maiestatem tamen 
 vestram rogaiam volumus iasistimusque, uti justiliae publica; tandem sa- 
 tistiat super caede Antonii Ascham residentis nostri flagitiosa, eo niagis 
 quixl iMist isfiusmodi t'acinorisauctores merito supplicio affectos, in aulam 
 vestram reKiati\ oratorem nostrum non dubitabimus delegare, ea expositu- 
 rum quaj non minus majesiati vestra? poterunt inservire, quam rei nustrse 
 publicae. Ex adverso, si nos sanguinem illuui tot circumstantiis insiini- 
 tum inultum pateremur, coram Deo unico liberatore perennique miseri- 
 cordiarum nostrarum fonte, et coram natinne Anglicanse participes nos 
 lore criminis necesse est ; Pr^ecipue si aliuni adhuc Anglum in iilud veli- 
 
 que rempublicam negotio missis, fiduciam omnem iu- 
 columitatis prascidat, ubi rex opinionibus ejusmodi 
 obstrictus est, ut per eas legatis et ministris publicis, 
 ne in summo vitae periculo versentur, incolumitatem a 
 sicariis praestare non possit : quorum jus, ut principum 
 rerumque publicarum usus inter se, et amicitia conscr- 
 vetur, gentium jure semper inviolabile est existimatura, 
 iisque asylis multo sauctius, quorum privilcgia (autho- 
 ritate puntificis et Romanoc ecclesiBe fundata) adbibita 
 hactenusfuere ad eludendam vim legum atque justitise, 
 quam exequendam subinde poposcimus in interfectorcs 
 Dom. Antonii Ascbami, qui idcirco missus ab hac re- 
 publica in Hispaniam fuit, ut usum et amicitiam inter 
 utramque gentem procurarct ac stabiliret. Cujus 
 barbarse ctedis nulla satisfactio, nullum supplicium 
 neque sumptum est, neque impetrari unquam potuit, 
 quam vis a fparlamento postularetur, ejusque no- 
 mine a concilio status vehementer ac saepius essct 
 flagitatum. Quod quidem foederis inter utramque 
 gentem renovandi continuatum hactenus impedimen- 
 tum atque justissimum fuit, immo vero (pro eo quod 
 ab aliis nationibus factitatum est) justa belli causa 
 censeri potuit. 
 
 Quod autem ad controversias in Occidentali India 
 exortas, cum tam in ipsa continente quam in insulis 
 coloniae nobis quoque sint Americante, easque jure non 
 deteriore, immo meliore possideamus quam Hispani 
 suarum ullas obtineant, parique jure ea maria navigare 
 nobis liberum sit, sine ulla tamen causa, nulla prorsus 
 injuria lipsi (idque ubi de commercio controvcrsia nulla 
 versata est) tamen perpetuo colonias nostras hostilitcr 
 invaserant, nostros homines interfecerunt, naves cepe- 
 runt, bona diripuerunt, tedificia stationesque rastarunt, 
 nostros popuiares captivos in servitutem abduxerunt; 
 atque btecfacere non destiteruntad illud usque tempus 
 in quo banc nuper ex peditionem contra eos suscepimus. 
 
 Ob quam causam, contra quim antebac in hujusmodi 
 occasione fieri consuevit, ubique fer6 ditionis Hispa- 
 nicae naves nostras negotiatoresque omnes retinuerunt, 
 eorumque bona proscripserunt ; adeo ut, sive ad Ame- 
 ricam, sive ad Europam oculos convertamus, belli au- 
 thores ipsi soli existimandi sunt, queeque ex eo ca;des 
 atque incommoda sequi poterunt iis omnibus causam 
 ipsi praebuisse. 
 
 Exempla perpetuae crudelissimceque hostilitatis in 
 Occidentali India, etiam pacis tempore ab Hispanis in 
 Anglos edita, et ab anno 1604, cum ab Jacobo rege 
 coagmentata pax est, usque dum rursus bellum erupit, 
 et ab ea pace quae anno 1630, proxime facta est, ad 
 banc usque diem permulta sunt perque inhumana et 
 cruenta:| pauca attulisse satis habebimus. 
 
 mus regnum mittere, ubi fas est impune trucidari. Ko6 vero tanti xsti- 
 mamus majesfatem vestram, ut non facile simus creditftri potentiam ves- 
 tram regiam iu ditionibus ii'si subjectisaliense cuipiam potentiae sut^ectam 
 esse. 
 
 1 Kavis quasdam Ulyssis nomine insignila, cum per oram Guianiemer- 
 caturam faceret, et mertatores ac nauts adducti tide ac jurejurando Ber- 
 rei illius loci praefecti, in terram exissent, eorum tamen triginta capti et 
 in custodiam traditi sunt : scribit cleinde ad mercatoreni praefectus se qui- 
 dem triginta ex suisnautis cepisse, ideoquod nonnulli exteri. qui mercan- 
 di causa illuc appulerant, viginti millibus ducatis ipsum fraudaverant ; 
 quos nummos si sibi misisset, remissurum se ei omnes suos juravit, et com- 
 mercii potestatem facturum. Mercator partim numeralS, partimmercium 
 aestimalione optatam ei summam mittit:quam cum praetectus Berreus 
 accepisset, allisalos ad arbores illos homines trigmta strangulari jussit, 
 excepto solo chirurgo qui ad sanandum prnelecti morbum asservatus est. 
 Ilaec redemptio aliis cum damnis ibi datu sepiem millibus librarum aesti- 
 mata est. 
 
826 
 
 SCRIPTUM DOM. PROTECTORIS. 
 
 Post factam paccm anno 1605, navis Maria dicta, 
 Anibrosio Birch mag'istro, ad septentrionalem Hispa- 
 iiiolue Oram in Occidcntali India niercaturas facicbat ; 
 Magister, cum a sacerclote quuilam patre Joanne, sic 
 enim nominabatur, cum sex sociis, tuti et liberi com- 
 jnercii promissis allectus essel ut in terram vidcndarum 
 mercium quarundam causa egrederetur, et Hispani 
 duodecim ad Anglicanas merccs inspicicndas in navcm 
 ascenderent, dum Angli suas merccs ostendunt nihil 
 doli nietuentes, dante signum ah littore sacerdote, His- 
 pani, educta quisque sica, omnes in navi Anglos jugu- 
 larunt, pneter duos duntaxat qui in mare desilucrunt; 
 ccetcri in terra exquisitis cruciatibus necati sunt ; ma- 
 gister ipse exutus vestibus et ad arborem alligatus, 
 nudus muscarum morsibus cxpositus est ; ubi post horas 
 viginti Nigrita quidam, audito hominis cjulatu, acce- 
 dens, jam ante moribundum lancea transfixit: navis 
 hoec cum mercibus quinque roilibus et quadringentis 
 libris cTstimata est. 
 
 Alia navis, cui nomen Arcuariae, eodem anno ad Sanc- 
 tum Dominicum capta est, nautaeque omnes interfecti : 
 bcec navis mille trccentis libris eestimata est. 
 
 Alia navis dicta Amicitia Londinensis, cum navigio 
 suo, a Lodovico Fajardo, classis regise Hispaniensis 
 navarcho, capta est, navis cum bonis omnibus publi- 
 cata, mercatores ac nautici in mare demersi, practer 
 unum puerum, qui ad serviendum est servatus: hsec 
 navis cum navigio quinquies mille et quingentis libris 
 sestimata est. 
 
 £x alia navi, cui nomen The Scorn, cum omnes 
 nautae, Hispanorum dejerationibus confisi, in terram 
 egressi esscnt, omnes tamen alligati ad arbores et stran- 
 gulati sunt. Ubi mercatores et navem et bona omnia 
 amiscrunt, mille quingentis libris testimata. 
 
 * Anno 1606 navis, cui nomen Neptunus, ad TortU" 
 gam ab Hispanorum navibus praedatoriis capta est, 
 quatuor millibus et trecentis libris cestimata. 
 
 Eodem anno navis alia, quae Alauda nominata est, a 
 Lodovico Fajardo capta, et cum toto onere publicata 
 est; quoe quatuor millibus quingentis et septuaginta 
 libris est sestimata. 
 
 t Navis alia, cui nomen Castor et Pollux, ab His- 
 panis ad Floridam capta est, qui et cam publicarunt, 
 nautasque omnes vel necaverunt, vel in servitute re- 
 tinuerunt, nihil enim de iis postea est audituni : ha^c 
 navis cum suo onere quindecim mille libris eestimata 
 est. 
 
 Anno 1608, navis Plimouthensis Richarda nomina- 
 ta, cujus praefectus erat Henricus Challins, domini 
 Pophanii, summi Anglisejusticiarii, Ferdinandi Gorges, 
 ordinis equestris, aliorumque sumptibus instructa, ut 
 Virginiam pcteret, ad australem Canariarum insularum 
 partem vi tempestatum delata, cum indii cursum ad 
 destinatam oram tenuisset, sub latitudine 27 graduum 
 in undecim naves «Hispanicas ab Sancto Dominico re- 
 deuntes forte incidit; quae ipsam ccperunt, et quan- 
 quam praifectus naris diploma regium protuUt, quo se 
 expediret, tamen navis cum bonis publica facta est, 
 
 • Joannn Davis duo naviiria rum omnibus bonis amisit, infcrfectis 
 •<>rum omnibus nautis, ad illiu!> naviuatioais interitum, unde triuni niil- 
 Jinm (jf qiiinKenlarum lihrHrum jarfurxm fecit. 
 
 t Alia navis mercatorum quoruodarn Londinensium, (cujus magister 
 
 ipse crudeliter habitus, et ad triremes missus. Unde 
 amplius duo mille et quingentae libree sunt amissee. 
 
 Simile quiddani navi altcri, cui nomen The Ayde, 
 factum est a Lodovico Fajardo captop, obtcntu amicitite ; 
 hacc item cum bonis publicata est, omnesque nautte 
 ad triremes abducti ; ubi nonnuUi fustibus ad nccem 
 pulsati sunt, quod rcmigium rccusassent. Quae navis 
 et bona, Hispanis ipsis eestimantibus, scptem millibus 
 librarura oestimata sunt. 
 
 Eodem anno navis alia, Anna Gallant appcllata, 
 magistro Guliclmo Curry, cum ad Hispaniolam merca- 
 turas faceret, similiter et navis et bona publica facta 
 sunt, omnesque nautae suspendio necati, assutis unicui- 
 quc ad ludibrium chartulis, in quibus erat scriptum, 
 " Cur hue venistis."*" Htec navis cum onere octo milli- 
 bus librarum tcstimata est. 
 
 Haec exempla satis ostendunt, ciijusmodi nobis pa- 
 cem Hispani in Occidental! India temporibus Jacobi 
 servarunt ; qui rex diligentissime curavit vel potitis 
 pertirauit ne pax cum iis dirimeretur. Ejusmodi hos- 
 tilia plene et cruenta vestigia, ab ilia etiam proxima 
 pace, qute anno 1630 confecta est, ad banc usque diem, 
 persequi licet. 
 
 De iis coloniis, quae, ab hujus nationis nobilibus qui- 
 busdam viris, in insulam Catelinam (ab his Providen- 
 tiae dictam) et in insulam Tortugam (ab iisdcm Asso- 
 ciationis dictam) deducts; sunt, primum dicemus. Hte 
 autem anno circiter 1629, cum essent incolarum et pe- 
 corum omnino vacuce, indicto inter Anglos et Hispanos 
 tunc temporis hello, ab Anglis occupatoe sunt atque 
 possessae. Sequentc anno pace inter utramque gentem 
 facta, cum de iis insulis haudquaquam ab Hispanis in 
 fcedere exciperetur, Carolus rex, non impediri se hac 
 pace arbitratus, suo diplomate, quod et magno sigillo 
 Angliae signatum erat, supradictam insulam Providen- 
 tifE, simul et alias vicinas ditionis esse sute declaravit ; 
 casque nobilibus quibusdam viris eorumque haeredibus 
 possidendas concessit; et sequente anno ad Tortugam 
 usque insulam concessionem illam extendit. 
 
 Et quanquam supradicti coloni, ejusdem regis con- 
 cessione in earura insularum possessionem vcnerant, 
 eaque concessio jure optimo fundata erat, primum na- 
 tursB, eo quod neque Hispani, neque alii quicunque in 
 eorum locorura possessione essent, deinde belli, quan- 
 doquidem belli tempore occupatae sunt, et in pacis arti- 
 culis nequaquam exceptce, unde extingui jus Hispano- 
 rum (si quod ilHc juris habuissent) ipsorum assensu, ex 
 secundo proximi foederis articulo, sequitur ; quanquam 
 etiam neque supradicta colonorum societas, ncc suorum 
 quisquam ullo suo facto justam offensionis causam vel 
 Hispaniae regi, vel Hispanorum cuiquam priebuerat, 
 donee priores ipsi naves nostras atque colonias vi in- 
 vasissent, et Anglorum baud paucos, incensis etiam 
 eorum eedificiis ac sedibus, interfccissent; Hispani 
 tamen, cum nullam iis in locis paccm servare statuis- 
 sent, circa 22 Januarii 1632, nulla injuria lacessiti, 
 navcm quandam socictatis, cui nomen Flos Marinus, 
 ab insula Providentiae redeuntem, inter Tortugam et 
 
 erat Joannes T/x-k,) a classe llispanonim ad insulam Tortueam capta est, 
 proplerea quwl inercaturitm tei issrt, et arttoits tecidissft ; ol> id navis est 
 publirau, et iiaiitic'ium (iK-riqiie morte mullati, reliqui ad triremes danj/. 
 iiati : hit quinque millium et treciniarum librarum jactura (acta eat. 
 
SCRIPTUM DOM. PROTECTORIS. 
 
 827 
 
 Florida caput hostiliter ag-gressi sunt, in qua pug^na 
 nonnullos in ea navi occidenint, alios vulnerarunt. 
 
 Post haec anno circiter 1634, Tortug-a insula ab His- 
 panis cum quatuor navibus oppugnata est, cum ab 
 Anglis nulla injuria exorta esset: in qua oppugna- 
 tione sexaginta vel amplius occisi sunt, multi sauciati 
 ac capti, sedes deletae, domus incensse, bona baud parvi 
 pretii ab Hispanis asportata, Angli penitus ex ea in- 
 sula dejecti, quorum alii suspendio sublati, alii Hava- 
 nam abducti in scrvitute miserrima retenti sunt ; unus 
 prao cjeteris, cui nonien Grymes, qui in Tortuga bom- 
 bardarius fuerat, crudeliter est trucidatus ; pars ad de- 
 sertam quandam insulam confug'iens, cui Sanctse Crucis 
 nomen est, ab Hispanis, qui eo etiam cum tribus na- 
 vibus longis fugientes persequebantur, oppugnata 
 mcnsc Martio 1636, quadrag-iuta occisi, rcliqui capti et 
 crudelissime acccpti. 
 
 Anno 1635 Julii 24, Hispani duabus navibus magnis 
 unaque longa advecti in Providentire quoque insulam 
 irapctum fecerunt, compluriumque borarum spatio 
 praclium ibi commiserunt; et turn quidem rejecti sunt, 
 et ab incoepto desistere coacti ; donee idem rursus ten- 
 tantes circa annum 1640, cum duodecim navibus niag- 
 nis et minoribus, quarum prictoriie Armadillo Cartba- 
 g'inensi nomen erat, ex majoribus rcgiae classis argen- 
 tariae triremibus, cum magnum milituni numerum in 
 terram exposuissent, totius insultc cxpugnationem 
 poUiciti sibi sunt, veriim, baud parvo acccpto incom- 
 modo, repulsi denuo reccsserunt. Altera tamen classe 
 instructa paulo post ciim revertissent, coloni dissidiis 
 laborantcs, non tam qua se raticne defenderent, quam 
 quibus conditionibus commodissime sc dederent, cogi- 
 tarunt, quas, tradita demum insula, facile irapetrave- 
 runt. Sed insula boc modo et colonis erepta est, et 
 rcipublicce, illis octoginta amplius millium libnarum 
 damno dato, huic detrimento et ignominia publica 
 simul accepta. Ita in Hispanorum potestatem cum 
 esset redacta, navis queedam, quae vectores aliquot ab 
 Nova Anglia in cam insulam transmigrantcs advexerat, 
 intra ictum bombardarum callide pcrducta est (ignora- 
 bat cnira cam insulam in Hispanorum potestate jam 
 esse) nee sine permagno discriniinc ac difficultate se 
 extricavit, amisso etiam navis magistro, ^iro probissi- 
 mo, quern ictus tormenti ab insula displosi transverbe- 
 ravit. 
 
 Ncc contenti intra fines Americanos bostilitati suie in 
 iliius colonine socios modum statuere Hispani, in bis 
 etiam partibus Europse eandem iu eos excrcuerunt : 
 anno enim 1638 Decembris 25, navis queedam ejusdem 
 societatis, Providentise nomine insignita, cui Thomas 
 Newman prtefectus erat a promontorio Dengioleucis 
 duabus in ipsa Angliae ora a Sprengfeklio Dunkirkance 
 navis pi-3edatoriae prajfecto oppugnata atque capta est ; 
 Dunkirkam deinde addacta; ubi navis onera retenta 
 sunt; (quce multorum etiam illic jestimatione triginta 
 millium librarum summam conficere existiraabantur ;) 
 Auglorum autem partim occisi, partim vulnerati, cceteri 
 postquam in ipsa navi sua barbare atque inhumane 
 essent babiti, Dunkirkam abrepti baud melius acccpti 
 
 • Si:nililJr etiam factum fuerat eodem in portu navi cuidam Joannis 
 
 sunt, donee rationem aliquam profugicndi invenissent. 
 Et quamvis supradicti socii satisfactionem omnibus 
 modis postulassent, rexque proximus per rcsidentem 
 suura Dora. Balthasarum Gerberium,pcrque literas tam 
 sua manu, quam a secretario Coco scriptas, eorum no- 
 mine reparationem poposcisset, nullam tamen neque 
 bonorum restitutionem, neque ob ea ut compensatio uUa 
 fieret, impetrare potuerunt. 
 
 Sunt et alia receutioris et accrbioris etiam memoriae 
 exempla, illud nempe Sanctae Crucis ab Hispanis k 
 Portorico provectis oppugnatoe anno circiter 1651, in- 
 sulac quidem antea non babitatae ; illo autem tempore 
 colonia Anglorum, duce Nicolao Philips, eam tenuit ; 
 qui cum centum circiter colonis ab Hispanis crudeliter 
 occisus est ; qui etiam naves in portu occuparunt, sedes 
 diripuerunt, vastarunt, et funditus exciderunt. Ciimque 
 plures quos occiderent invenire non possent (ciim iuco- 
 larum pars alia iu silvas profugisset) Hispani Portori- 
 cum reversi iis miseris et fame propemodum confectis 
 reliquiis ad alias viciuas insulas recipiendi sese, illam- 
 que Sancttc Crucis penitus deserendi, spatium dedere. 
 Sed brevi post tempore Hispaui ad pervestigandum et 
 quasi venandum eos qui in silvas sese abdiderant, rc- 
 vcrterunt: verum illi ex manibus eorum eftugiendi, et 
 iu alias insulas dilabeudi, rationem aliquam invenc- 
 runt. 
 
 Eodem anno 1651, navis quacdam Joannis Turneri, 
 cum esset in portum Cumanagotae vebcmentioribus 
 ventis appulsa, ab iliius loci praefecto occupata, et cum 
 omnionere in fiscum redacta est. 
 
 ♦Similiter factum est navi et bonis capitaneiCranlei. 
 
 Et anno 165() navis qutcdam Saniuelis Wilson, quie 
 Barbados insulas petebat, equis onusta, in alto capta et 
 Havanam abducta est; navis et bona publicata, nauta- 
 rum plerique in custodiam traditi, et mancipiorum 
 more in munimentis operas dare coacti, 
 
 Similia experti sunt nautce cujusdam navis Bamsta- 
 pulensis, annis abbinc circiter duobus, qute navis cum 
 prope Hispaniolam, dum a coloniis quibusdam nostris 
 in insulis Caribiis reverteret, rimas agere coepisset un- 
 damque accipere, nautce ejus in scapha sibi consulere 
 coacti ad littus evaserunt, ubi omnes captivi facti, man- 
 cipiorum ritu, in munimentis operas dare cogebantur. 
 
 His, aliisquc permultis hujusmodi exemplis, quro 
 omnia recitare nimis longum esset, manifestissimum 
 est Hispani* regem cique subjectos arbitrari, se nulla 
 pacis conditione nobis prtestanda illis in regionibusob- 
 ligari: cum et omne genus bostilitatis in nos exercere, 
 immo graviora bostilitate, consueverint, eaque inbuma- 
 nitas, qua illic Anglos tractare solent, usque eo a pacis 
 legibus aliena sit, ut ne belli quidem legibus non in- 
 teruecini convenire videatur. In illo tamen Hispanic© 
 regis embargo, quo mercatorum nostrorum naves ac 
 bona proscribi ac retineri imperat, in Anglos culpa 
 omnis confertur; quasi " fcedifragos " nimirum "et 
 sacrosanctoe pacis atque commercii liberi violatores, 
 tam religiose," ut ipse ait, "ab se servati ; idque tam 
 iuopinata atque professa bostilitate fecisse nos, ut urbem 
 Sancti Dominici in Hispaniola insula oppugnare ada- 
 
 Blandi,cui prisfectus eratNicolaus Philippus, 
 
828 
 
 SCRIPTUM DOM. PROTECTORIS. 
 
 riremar." Quod solum causae affertur, quamobrem 
 Anglorum bona in Hispania proscribantiir, neyotiato- 
 resquc rclineantur: quanquam ct hoc praedicata ejus 
 humanitate exag-geratum est, " Se nostras classes in 
 * portus suos, quoscuiique ingredi aut atting-ere com- 
 modum nobis fuisset, amic^ Pecepissc; ncquc niinistros 
 suos exegisse rigide a nobis illos pacis articulos inter 
 utramquc coronam sancitos, qui cum amplius sex vel 
 octo navibus bellicis intrare portus utrinque vetant." 
 
 Veriim qnemadmodura ipse, dum hare dicit, classes 
 nostras omui commisso ac fttderis violatione illis in 
 portubus absolvit, ciim, siquid ojusmodi, quod objici- 
 tur, factum ct condonatum sit, id ipsius et ministrorum 
 suorum permissu ac bona vcnia sit factum, et quemad- 
 modum luce clarius est non eum gratuito tam facilem 
 fuissc, si, quanta a classibus nostris momenta suis ra- 
 tionibus accesserint, secum cogitet, ita e contrario rex 
 ille ejusque ministri, quas ipse commemorat, pactiones 
 minime sand observarunt ; quarum articulo vigesimo 
 terlio tam disertd cautum est, " Si contingat ut displi- 
 centite" inter utramque rempublicam " oriantur, ut 
 subditi bine inde ita ea de re admoneantur; ut sex 
 menses a tempore monitionis babeant ad transportandas 
 merces suas, nulla interea arrestatione, interruptione, 
 aut damno personarum aut mcrcium suarum faciendis 
 ▼el dandis." Qua in re rex ille exiguam sane pactio- 
 num illarum, quas contra nos profert, in ilia nuper 
 nostrarum rerum proscriptione rationem habuit. Quod 
 autem in eo edicto declarat, bostilitatem in Occiden- 
 tali India exortam, his in partibus violationem pacis 
 libcrique commercii babendam esse, nova, adeoque alia 
 plane interpretatio est, atque hactenus ab utravis re- 
 publica in medium unquam allata est: tametsi bocde- 
 clarandi occasiones utrinque non defuere. 
 
 Verum cilm Hispanite rex ipse et verbis et re ipsa 
 declaraverit pacis articulos intelligi sic debere, efficitur 
 bine ut tot contra Anglos iis in regionibus hostiliter 
 factis et ab ipso primum exortis, et ab ipso tempore 
 proximo percussi ftederis, ut supradictum est, buc usque 
 continuatis, ab se primo soluta sacra amicitice vincula 
 ipse se coarguisse videatur. Quae res tam clara per se 
 et manifesta est, ut adversarios nostros certe ipsos pu- 
 duerit in bac controversia factum negare, de jurepotius 
 nobiscum disceptaturos ; quemadmodum scilicet His- 
 panic rex, inter titulos suos, regis Indiarum litulum 
 sibi sumpsit, ita universam Indiam, mareque Indicnm 
 tam Boreale quam Australe suam esse propriam di- 
 tionem, bostesque omnes et piratas esse, qui ejus injussu 
 illuc accesserint. Quod si ita esset, et nos et omnes 
 caeterae nationes, quicquid iis in locis possidemus, ei 
 relinquere ac reddere, et, reductis coloniis nostris, in- 
 juriiE sibi factoe veniam petere deberemns. Verum si 
 rationem ac veritatem illius tituli altius inspiciamus, 
 tenui admoduni atque infirmo eum niti fundamento 
 comperiemus, quo tanta contcntionum ac belli moles 
 supcrstruenda sit, quantam banc verisiniile est futuram. 
 
 Duplex titulus pra?fertur, j)apam videlicet ea loca do- 
 nasse, scque primos omnium perlustrassc : ad primum 
 
 • At vero navarrhus nostrr Swanlrius in Sirilia non ila est aniicJ in 
 pwTii lir.|'ani actejilos, ubi anno 1631. ciri a mni»rrii luniuin navis ejus, 
 cut Domrn llenricus Bonavrnlura, unil cum Ilollanilica navi maitna ft 
 o{HiteD(u*ini«, cui noiiicn Petro, quain (M'lirrat, prcxlilioue Iljjpanici pne- 
 
 quod attinet, scimus papam in donandis regnis ac regi- 
 onibus liberalissimum semper fuissc, illi intcrca dissi- 
 minimum cujus vicarium se esse profitetur, qui ne boc 
 quidem tanttiluni sibi suniere volrbat, ut in dividendis 
 baereditatibus constitui se judicem paterctur, nedum ut 
 suo arbitrio cuiquaui donaret, quemadmodum Angliani, 
 Hiberniam, aliaque regna papa largitns est. Veriim 
 nos authoritatem in eo istiusmodi nullam agnoscimus, 
 neque gentem ullani usque adeo mentis inopem existi- 
 mamus, ut in eo tantam authoritatem inesse credat; 
 vel Hispani ipsi ut credant, aut essent assensuri, si ab 
 iis papa tantum abjudicasset quantum largitus est. 
 Quod si Galli atque alii, qui authoritatem papalcm in 
 ecclesiasticis rebus agnoscunt, hunc Hispanorum titu- 
 lum pro nihilo babent, nos ut dc eo alitor scntiamus non 
 est expectandum, adeoque hoc relinquimus, responso 
 ampliorc prorsus iudignum. 
 
 Sed neque alter titulus maj oris est ponderis; quasi 
 vero, si Hispani paucas quasdam Americse partes primi 
 perscrutati sunt, insulisque aliquot, fluminibus, ac pro- 
 montoriis noniina iniposuere, idcirco novi illius orbis 
 dominium jure sibi acquisivissent. Verum imaginarius 
 ejusmodi titulus tali prtpscriptione nixussine possessione 
 jus aliquod verum aut legitimum creare non potest. 
 Jus optimum tenendi Americanis in locis quod quisque 
 habet, est coloniarum deductio, et possessio vel ubi 
 nulli omnino incolac fuere, vel, sicubi fuere, eorum as- 
 sensu, vel saltern in desertis quibusdam suarum regio- 
 num etincultis locis, quibus vel colendis vel habitandis 
 ipsi non sufficiant; quandoquidem Deus terram homi- 
 num usibus creavit, prsecepitque iis ut universam im- 
 plereut. 
 
 Hoc si verum est, quemadmodum Hispani iniquis- 
 simo jure parta illic obtinere invenientur ; cum omnia 
 invitis incolis, et quasi ex ipsis eorum visceribus sibi 
 acquisiverint, quorum sanguine suum imperium illic 
 fundarunt, magnasque insulas et regiones totas non 
 reperere quidem desertas sed reddidere, indigenis om- 
 nibus cradicalis, ita Angli, quoc illic babent, jure op- 
 timo possederint; casque nominatim insulas in quibus 
 Hispani colonias eorum oppugnarunt atque delerunt ; 
 quee aut incolas omnino non habuere, aut si ab Hispanis 
 interfectos, desertae etiam ab iisdem et sine cultoribus 
 relicttE sunt : adeo ut naturae gentiumque jure occu- 
 pantibus quibusvis eas et possidentibus cedant ; juxta 
 illud in legibus notissimum, " Quae nullius sunt et pro 
 derelictis habentur, cedunt occupanti." Quanqunm si 
 Hispanos expulissemus iis locis in quae nostras colo- 
 nias deduximus, unde i|)si priiis incolas radicitiis ex- 
 turbaverunt, nos tanquam occisionum et injuriarum 
 illius populi ultores meliore jure regiones illas obtinu- 
 isscmus, quam oppressores ejusdcm et interfectores. 
 Cum autem nostra coloniae iis in locis fueriut, ubi 
 neque indigenee neque Hispani possessionem ullam 
 tenuerunt, neque habitationcs ullas aut pecora post se 
 rcliqucrant, aliamve rem, quee possitullo niodojus pos- 
 sessionis retinere, tanto evidentius jus nostrum iis in 
 locis fuit, et Hispanorum injuriae nobis illatae tante 
 
 fecti, qui ri loro pncrrat, a s<>p(rm navibus llollandiris junioris Trumpii 
 (lurtu, in i|>!>o |M>rtu, nnii Ioiiki&s a inuniiDrnti^ quam sriopi minnris irtus 
 t'rrri fxiluit, nppressn est : uiulr niercatores, quorum ilia navia tuit, plua 
 sexagiuta Inbus millibu* libraruin aini»crunt. 
 
SCRIFrUM DOM. PROTECTORIS. 
 
 829 
 
 apertiores ; iis praesertim in locis quae indicti utrinque 
 belli tempore occupata sunt (quo in g^enere Providentiae 
 insula atque Tortugae fuit) quas si Hispani suas esse 
 ullo priore tituio necdum prolato ostendere potuissent, 
 tamen cum in pacis proximoe tractatione id non fecerint, 
 per secundum ejus articulum talem omnem praetextum 
 ipsi sibi in posterum amputarunt, jusque ipsi suum, si 
 quod erat, extinxerunt. 
 
 Hoc arg-umentum copiosius tractare nihil attinet; 
 nequc estquisquam rerum peritusquin facile perspiciat, 
 quam inanes atque infirmac sint istoe rationcs, quibus 
 innixus Hispanus tam immensi tractus imperium arro- 
 gare sibi soli non dubitat. Verum id egimus, ut ob- 
 tentuum istorum debilitatem paucis aperiremus, quibus 
 Hispani, quicquid in nos indigne atque atrocitcr in 
 Occidcntali India commiscrunt, defendere conantur ; 
 mancipationes, suspcndia, demersioncs, cruciatusquc 
 nostrorum hominum ac neccs, navium ac bonorum 
 spoliationcs, coloniarum summain pace dcpopulatiuncs, 
 idquc nulla prorsus injuria affccti, ut Anglicana gens, 
 quotics here tam acerba atque atrocia in suum sangui- 
 ucm, et ojusdcm orthodoxae fidoi cultores, perpctrata 
 mcminerit, non naves bellicas sed dccus suum omnc 
 obsolescere et iutcrirc cogitet, si his indignissimis 
 modis tractari sesediutiiis tequoanimo patiatur; nequc 
 solum tanta ac tam opulenta orbis tcrrarum parte contra 
 jus legesque gentium communes ab omui libero com- 
 mcrcio excludi, verum etiam pro piratis atque prcedoni- 
 bus haberi, eodemque supplicio plecti, si ilia maria 
 navigare, si vel aspicere vel aspirare, si denique vel 
 cum nostris ibi colouiis usum aliquem aut commercium 
 habere ausa fuerit. 
 
 Dc inquisitione Hispanica sanguinaria nihil dicimus, 
 inimicitiarum causa universis protestautibus communi ; 
 neque de tot seminariis sacerdotum ac jesuitaruni An- 
 glicoirum sub Hispauico patrocinio nidulantium, offcn- 
 sionis causa et periculi gravissimi huic reipublicre 
 propria; cum proposituni nobis potissimum sit contro- 
 versiarum in.Occidentali India uostrarum causas et 
 ratioues exponere. Hoc vero eequioribus cunctis et 
 incorruptis rerum eestimatoribus planum fecisse confi- 
 dimus, nccessitatem,existimationem, justitiam ad banc 
 nuper susceptam expeditionemnosevocasse; necessita- 
 tem, bellandum enim necessari^ est, si per Hispanos 
 pacem colere non licet; existimationem atque justitiam, 
 jieutra enim harum nobis constare poterit, si injurias 
 tam inhumanas atque intolcrandas impuud civibus 
 nostris ac popularibus inferri desides patiemur, quales 
 in Occidentali India illatas iis esse demonstravimus. 
 
 Et certe parum vident, qui de consiliis ac rationibus 
 Hispanicisconjecturamcapiunt exea persona ac specie 
 quam in prcesentia suarum rerum inclinatio induere 
 versus nos in his orbis terree partibus coegit; quasi 
 non nunc mens eadem, iidem sensus animorum ac ratio- 
 num suarum sint, qui turn fuere, cum anuo 1588 subju- 
 
 gare banc totam insulam suuraque sub imperium ac 
 ditionem subjungere affectabant, immo quasi ex hoc 
 immututo apud nos rerum statu formaque reipublicie 
 non accensa potius eorum in nos odia auctaeque sus- 
 piciones sint. Quod si htec opportunitas, quae, propter 
 nunnulla qu:vdam quae nuper acciderunt, ineundi rati- 
 onem aliquam, qua ab hoc tam vetere et implacato 
 religionis nostne ac patriae hoste nobismetipsis (Deo 
 bene juvante) consulere possimus, occasionem fortd 
 suppeditaverit, prtetermissa fuerit, fieri poterit ut eas 
 vires facile sit recuperaturus (animus enim cert6 illi 
 neque unquam deerit ncque deesse poterit) ex quibus 
 intolerandus aequ^ et formidabilis reddi possit atque 
 antea fuerit. Nos interea si injurias tam immanes in 
 Occidentali India sine satisfactione ulla aut vindicta 
 nostris fieri, si excludi nos omnes ab ilia tam insigni 
 orbis tcrrarum parte, si infestum atque inveteratum 
 hostem nostrum (pace praesertim cum Batavis jam 
 facta) ingcntes illos ab Occidcntali India thcsauros, 
 quibus praescntia incommoda sarcirc possit, nostra pace 
 domum deportare, resque suas in euni rursus locum 
 restitucre patiemur, quo eandem iterum possit delibera- 
 tionem suscipere, quam anno 1588 habuit, " Utrum 
 fuisset consultius ad recuperandas Belgii foedoratas 
 provincias initium facere ab Anglia, an ab illis ad sub- 
 igendam Angliam," proculdubio non minus multas 
 immo plures causas excogitabit, cur potius ab Anglia 
 initium sit faciendum : Qucm fincm ut assequantur 
 ullo tempore ea consilia, si Deus pcrmitteret, expectarc 
 merito posscmus, ut in nos primos, in omnes denique 
 ubicunquc protestantes, exerceatur quod restat occidio- 
 nis illius immanissima;, quam fratres nostri in Alpinis 
 vallibus passi nuper sunt : quoe, si illorum miserorum 
 editis querimoniis orthodoxorura credendum sit, per 
 illos fraterculos, missionarios quos vocant, Hispanicse 
 aulae consiliis informata primitus ac designata erat. 
 
 His omnibus animadversis, speramus quidem fore, 
 ut omnes Angli, prtesertim sinceri, privatas adversiis 
 se mutuo inimicitias dcposituri sint, suisque propiiis 
 commodis potius renunciaturi quam propter cupiditatem 
 lucri, baud ita multi, ex mercaturis illis faciendi (quod 
 non nisi inhouestis conditionibus et quodammodo im- 
 probis parari, et aliunde etiam suppeditari poterit) 
 multorum adolescentiam ncgotiatorum animas, ex iis 
 conditionibus quibus nunc in Hispania negotiantur et 
 degunt, summo periculo, sicuti faciunt, objecturi, vi- 
 tamque et fortunas multorum in America fratrum Chris- 
 tianorum, hujus denique nationis totius agi existimati- 
 onem passuri ; quodque gravissimum est, oblatis sibi 
 a Deo ad gloriara ipsius, regnumque Christi amplifi- 
 candum opportunitates praeclarissimas ex raanibus di- 
 missuri. Quae quidem non dubitamus quin, remotis 
 quce veritati penitus inspicicnda? officiunt, expeditionis 
 nuper nostra; in Occidentalcm Indiam contra Hispanos 
 susceptse potissimum fuisse finem appareat. 
 
AUTORIS EPISTOLARUM FAMILIARIUM 
 
 LIBER UNUS 
 
 QDIBDS ACCMSKRDMT 
 
 EJUSDKM, JAM OLIM IN COLLEGIO ADOLESCENTIS, PROLUSIONES QU-flEDAM ORATORIO 
 
 [riRST PtBLISHKD 1671] 
 
 Thom* Jonio Praceptori tuo. 
 
 1. QuANQUAM statuerara apud me (preeceptor optime) 
 epistolium quoddam mimeris metricis elucubratum ad 
 te dare, non satis tameii habuisse me existimavi, nisi 
 aliud iusuper soluto stylo exarassem ; incredibilis enim 
 ilia et singularis animi mei gratitudo, quam tua ex 
 debito vendicant in me merita, non constricto illo, et 
 certis pedibus ac syllabis aug'ustato dicendi genere ex- 
 primenda fuit, sed oratione libera, immo potius, si fieri 
 posset, Asiatica verborum exuberantia. Quamvis qui- 
 dem satis exprimere quantum tibi debeam, opus sit 
 meis viribus longe majus, etiamsi omnes quoscunque 
 Aristoteles, quoscunque Parisiensis illedialecticus con- 
 gessit argumcntorum tottsc exinanirem, etiamsi omnes 
 elocutionis fonticulos exhaurirem. Quereris tu vero 
 (quod merito potes) literas meas raras admodum et 
 perbreves ad te delatas esse ; ego vero non tarn doleo 
 me adeo jucundo, adeoque expetendo defuisse officio, 
 quam gaudeo et pene exulto eum me in amicitia tua 
 tenere locum, qui possit crebras k me epistolas efflagi- 
 tare. Quod autem hoc plusquam triennio nunquam 
 ad te scripserim, quteso ut ne in pejus trahas, sed pro 
 mirifica ista tua facilitate et candore, in mitiorem par- 
 tem interpretari digneris. Deum enim testor quam te 
 instar patris colam, quam singulari etiam observantia 
 te semper prosecutus sim, quamque veritus chartismeis 
 tibi obstrepere. Curo nenipe cum primis, ciini tabel- 
 las meas nihil aliud commendit, ut commendet rari- 
 tas. Deinde, cum ex vehcmeutissimo, quo tui afficior 
 desiderio, adesse te semper cogitem, teque tanquara 
 praesentem alloquar et intuear, dolorique mco (quod in 
 amore fere fit) vana quadam pru?scnticc tuae imagina- 
 tione adblandiar; vcreor profecto, simulac literas ad te 
 mittendas meditarer, ne in mentem mibi subito veniret, 
 quam longinquo a me distes terrarum intervallo ; at- 
 que ita recrudcsceret dolor abscntite tuoe jam prope 
 coDsopitus, soraniumque dulce discuteret. Biblia 
 Hebnea, pergratum sane munus tuum, jampridcm 
 
 accepi. Haec scripsi Londini inter urbana diverticula, 
 non libris, ut soleo, circumseptus : si quid igitur in hac 
 epistola minus arriserit, tuamque frustrabitur expecta- 
 tionem, pensabitur alia magis elaborata, ubi primum 
 ad musarum spatia rediero. 
 Londino, Martii 26, 1625. 
 
 Alexandro Gillio. 
 
 2. Accepi literas tuas, et quaj me mirifice oblecta- 
 vere, carmina sane grandia, et majestatem vere poeti- 
 cam, Virgilianumque ubique ingenium redolentia. 
 Sciebam equidem quam tibi tuoque genio impossibile 
 futurum esset, a rebus poeticis avocare animum, et 
 furores illoscoelitus instinctos, sacrumque et ajthereum 
 ignem intimo pectore eluere, cum tua (quod de seipso 
 
 Claudianus) " totum spirent proecordia 
 
 Phoebum." Itaque si tua tibi ipse promissa fefelleris, 
 laudo hie tuam (quod ais) inconstantiam, laudo, siqua 
 est, improbitatem ; me autem tam pneclari poe- 
 niatis arbitrum a te factum esse, non minus glorior, 
 et honori mibi duco, quam si certantes ipsi dii 
 musici ad meum venissent judicium; quod Tniolo 
 Lydii montis Deo populari olim contigisse fabu- 
 lantur. Nescio sane an Henrico Nassovio plus gra- 
 tuler de urbe capta, an de tuis carminibus : nihil 
 enim existimo victoriam banc peperisse poematio hoc 
 tuo illustrius, aut celebrius. Te vero, cum prosperos 
 sociorum successus tam sonora triumphaliquc tuba ca- 
 nere audiamus, quantum vatem sperabimus, si forte res 
 nostrce demum feliciores tuas musas poscant gratula- 
 trices. Vale, vir erudite, snmmasque k me tibi gratias 
 carniinum tuorum nomine haberi scias. 
 
 Londino, Mali 20, 1628. 
 
 Eidem. 
 
 3. Priori ilia epistola mea non tam rescripsi tibi, 
 quam rescribendi vices deprccatus sum, alteram itaque 
 
EPISTOI^ FAMILIARES. 
 
 831 
 
 brevi secuturam tacite promisi, in qua tibi me amicis- 
 sime provocanti latius aliquanto responderem ; verum 
 ut id non essem pollicitus, banc utcunque summo jure 
 dcberi tibi fatendum est, quandoquidem singulas ego 
 literas tuas non nisi meis binis pensari posse existimem, 
 aut si exactius agatur, ne ccntenis quidem meis. Ne- 
 gotium illud de quo scripsi subobscurius, ecce tabellis 
 hiscc involutum, in quo ego, cum tua ad me pervenit 
 epistola, districtus temporis angustia magno turn pri- 
 mum operc desudabam : quidem enim acdium nostrarum 
 socius, qui comitiis his academicis in disputatione 
 philosophica responsurus erat, carmina super qua-stio- 
 nibus pro more annuo componenda, praetervectus ipse 
 jamdiu leviculas illiusmodi nugas, et rebus seriis in- 
 tentior, forte meee puerilitati commisit. Hsec quidem 
 typisdonata ad te misi, utpote quem norim rerum poeti- 
 carum judicem acerrimum, et mearum candidissimum. 
 Quod si tua mihi vicissim communicare dignaberis, 
 certe non erit qui magis iis delectetur, erit, fateor, qui 
 rectius pro corum dignitatc judicet. Equidem quoties 
 recolo apud me tua mecum assidua pene colloquia (qute 
 vel ipsis Athenis, ipsa in academia, quanro, desideroque) 
 cogito statim nee sine dolore, quanto fructu me mea 
 fraudarit absentia, qui nunquam a te discessi sine 
 raanifcsta literarum accessione, ct iiriSoati, plani quasi 
 ad emporium quoddam eruditiouis profectus. Sane 
 apud nos, quod sciam, vix unus atque alter est, qui 
 non philologioB, pariter et philosophisB, prope rudis et 
 profanus, ad theologiara devolet implumis ; earn quo- 
 que leviter admodum attiugere contentus, quantum 
 forte sufficiatconciunculn;quoquomodoconglutinandre, 
 et tanquam tritis aliunde pannis consuendae: adco ut 
 verendum sit ne sensim ingruat in clerum nostrum 
 sacerdotalis ilia superioris sseculi ignorantia. Atque 
 ego profecto cum nullos fere studiorum consortes bic 
 reperiam, Londinum recta respicerem, nisi per justitium 
 hoc sestivum in otium alte literarium recedere cogitarcm, 
 et quasi claustris musarum delitcscere. Quod cum jam 
 tu indies facias, nefas esse propemodum existimo diu- 
 tius in praesentia tibi interstrepere. Vale. 
 Cantabrigia, Julii 2, 1628. 
 
 ThomjE Junio. 
 
 4. Inspectis literis tuis (preceptor optime) unicum 
 hoc mihi supervacaneum occurrebat, quod tardee scrip- 
 tionis excusationem attuleris ; tametsi enim literis tuis 
 nihil mihi queat optabilius accedere, qui possim tamen, 
 aut debeam sperare, otii tibi tantum a rebus seriis, et 
 sanctioribus esse, ut mihi semper respondere vacet ; 
 praesertim cum illud humauitatis omnino sit, officii 
 minime. Te vero oblitum esse mei ut suspicer, tara 
 multa tua de me recens merita nequaquam sinunt. 
 Neque enim video quorsum tantis onustum beneficiis 
 ad oblivionem dimitteres. Rus tuum accersitus, simul 
 ac ver adoleverit, libenter adveniam, ad capessendas 
 anni, tuique non minus coUoquii, delicias; et ab ur- 
 bano strepitu subducam me paulisper. Stoam tuam 
 Icenorum, tanquam ad celeberrimam illam Zenonis 
 porticum, aut Ciceronis Tusculanum, ubi tu in re 
 modica regio sane animo veluti Scrranus aliquis aut 
 
 Curias in agello tuo placide regnas, deque ipsis divitiis, 
 ambitione, pompa, luxuria, et quicquid vulgus homi- 
 num miratur et stupet, quasi triumphum agis fortunse 
 contemptor. Caeterum qui tarditatis culpam depreca- 
 tus es, banc mihi vicissim, ut spero, prcccipitantiam 
 indulgebis; cum enim epistolam banc in extrcmum 
 distulissem, malui pauca, eaque rudiuscule scribere, 
 quam nihil. Vale vir observande. 
 Cantabrigia, Julii 21, 1628. 
 
 Alexandro Gillio. 
 
 5. Si mihi aurum, aut caelata pretiose vasa, aut 
 quicquid istiusmodi mirantur mortales, dono dedisses, 
 puderet certe non vicissim, quantum ex meis faculta- 
 tibus suppeteret, te aliquando remunerassc. Cum vero 
 tarn lepidum nobis, et venustum Hendecasyllabon 
 nudiustertius donaveris, quanto charius quidem auro 
 illud est mcrito, tanto nos reddidisti magis solicitos, 
 qua re conquisita tam jucundi bcneficii gratiam repen- 
 dcremus ; erant quidem ad man urn nostra hoc in genere 
 nonnulla, sed qurc tuis in certamen muneris oequale 
 nullo modo mittcnda censerem. Mitto itaquc quod 
 non plane meum est, sed et vatis etiam illius vere di- 
 vini, cujus banc odcn altera (etatis septimana, nullo 
 certe animi proposito, sed subito nescio quo impctu 
 ante lucis exortura, ad Gncci carminis hcroici legem in 
 Icctulo fere concinnabam : ut hoc scilicet innixus adju- 
 tore qui te non minus argumento superat, quam tu me 
 artificio vincis, haberem aliquid, quod ad apquilibrium 
 compensationis accedere videatur ; si quid occurrit, 
 quod tuce de nostris, ut soles, opinioni minus satisfe- 
 cerit, scias, ex quo ludum vcstrum rcliquerim hoc me 
 unicum atque primum graece composuisse, in Latinis, 
 ut nosti, Anglicisque libentius versatum. Quandoqui- 
 dem qui Grsecis componendis hoc saeculo studium 
 atque opcram impendit, periculum est, ne plerumque 
 surdo canat. Vale, roeque die lunce Londini (si Dcus 
 voluerit) inter bibliopolas expecta. Interim si quid 
 apud ilium doctorem, annuum collegii pracsidem, qua 
 vales amicitia, nostrum poteris negotium promoverc ; 
 cura queeso, ut mea causa quam cito adeas ; iterum 
 vale. 
 
 E nostra Suburbano, Decemb. 4. 1634. 
 
 Carolo Diodato. 
 
 6. Jam isthuc demum plane video te agere, ut ob- 
 stinato silentio nos aliquando pervincas; quod si ita 
 est, euge babe tibi istam gloriolam, en scribimus 
 priores : quanquam certe si unquam heec res in conten- 
 tionem veniret, cur neuter alteri oitw Sia xpova scripse- 
 rit, cave putes quin sim ego multis partibus excusatior 
 futurus : JijXov on uq PpaSv^ eat iicvTjpog rig oiv ^van 
 irpoQ TO ypd(ptiv, ut probe nosti, cum tu contra sive 
 natura, sive consuetudine, ad bujusmodi literarias 
 vpoafuvrffftig baud cegre perduci soleas. Simul et illud 
 pro me facit, quod tuam studendi rationem ita institu- 
 tam cognovi, ut crebro interspires, ad amicos visas, 
 multa scribas, nonnunquam iter facias ; meum sic est 
 ingenium, nulla ut mora, nulla quies, nulla ferme illius 
 
83t 
 
 EPISTOL^ FAMILIARES. 
 
 rei cura, aut cogitatio distineat, quoad penradam quo 
 feror, ct grandem aliquam studiorum nieorum quasi 
 periodum conficiani. Atquehincomnino, nee aliunde, 
 sodes, est factum, uti ad officia quidem ultrodeferenda 
 spissius accedani, ad respondendum tamen, noster 
 Thcodote, non sum adeo cessator ; neque enim comniisi 
 ut tuarii epistolam unquam ullam debita vice nostra 
 alia ne clauserit. Quid ! quod tu, ut audio, literas ad 
 bibliopolam, nd fratrem etiam saepiuscule ; quorum 
 utervis propter vicinitatcm satis commode praeslitisset, 
 mihi, si qute cssent, rcddcndas. lUud vero queror, te, 
 cum esses pollicitus ad nos fore ut diverteres cum ex 
 urbe diseederes, promissis non stetisse : quae promissa 
 abs te praeterita si vel semel cogitasses, non defuisset 
 prope nccessarium scribendi argumentum. Atque heec 
 babui quae in te merito, ut mibi videor, dcclamitarem. 
 Tu quae ad haec contra parabis ipse videris. Verum 
 interim quid est queeso? rectene vales? ccquinam iis 
 in locis erudituli sunt quibuscum libenter esse, et gar- 
 rire possis, ut nos consuevimus? quando redis? quam- 
 diu tibi in animo est apiid istos vvrtp^ptise commorari ? 
 tu vclim ad hoDC mihi singula rcspondeas : scd cnim 
 ne nescias non nunc demum res tuae cordi mihi sunt, 
 nam sic habeto me ineunte autumno ex itinere ad fra- 
 trem tuum eoconsilio deflexisse, utquid ageres, scirem. 
 Nuper etiam cum mihi tcmere Londini perlatum esset 
 a nescio quo te in urbe esse, con festim et quasi avTojion 
 proripui me ad cellam tuam, at illud aKiag ovap, nus- 
 quam enim compares. Quare quod sine tuo incom- 
 niodo fiat, advola ocyus et aliquo in loco te siste, qui 
 locus mitiorem spem praebeat, posse quoquo modo fieri 
 ut aliquoties inter nos saltern visamus, quod utinam no- 
 bis non aliter esses vicinus, rustican us atque es urbicus, 
 oXXa TovTo iuarctp QiSi <pi\ov. Plura vellem et de nobis, et 
 dc studiis nostris, sed mallem coram ; et jam eras sumus 
 rus illud nostrum reditnri, urgetque iter, ut vix haec 
 propcre in chartam conjecerim. Vale. 
 Londino, Septemb. 2. 1637. 
 
 Eidem. 
 
 7. Quod csetcri in literis suis plerunque faciunt 
 amici, ut unicam tantum salutem dicere sat habeant, 
 tu illud jam video quid sit quod toties impertias ; ad 
 ea enim quie tute prius, et alii adhuc sola afFcrre pos- 
 sunt Tota, jam nunc artcm insuper tuam, vimque omnem 
 medicam quasi cumulum acccdere vis me scilicet intel- 
 ligere. Jubes enim salvere sexcenties, quantum volo, 
 quantum possum, vel etiam amplius. Nie ipsum te 
 nuper salutis condum promum esse factum oportet, ita 
 totum salubritatis penuradilapidas, aut ipsa proculdubio, 
 sanitas jam tua parasita esse debet, sic pro rege te geris 
 atque imperas ut dicto sit audiens ; itaque gratulor 
 tibi, et duplici proinde nomine gratias tibi agam ne- 
 cesse est, cum amicitiae tum artis eximiae. Literas 
 quidem tuas, quoniam ita convenerat, diu expectabani ; 
 verum acceptis neque dum ullis, si quid mihi credis, 
 non idcirco vetercm meam ergo te benevolentiam tan- 
 tilliun refrigescere sum passus; immo vero qua tar- 
 ditatis excusatione usus literarum initio es,ipsam illam 
 te allaturum esse jam animo praesenseram, idque recte. 
 
 nostraeque necessitudini convenienter. Non enim in 
 cpistolarum ac salutationum momentis veram verti 
 amicitiam volo, quae omnia ficta esse possunt; sed altis 
 animi radicibus niti utrinque et sustinere se ; coeptam- 
 que sinceris, et sitnctis rationibus, etiamsi mutua cessa- 
 rent ofRcia, per omnem tamen vitam suspicionc ct culpa 
 vacare : ad quam fovendam non tain scripto sit opus, 
 quam viva invicem virtutum recordationc. Nee con- 
 tinue, ut tu non scripseris, non erit quo illud suppleri 
 ofKcium possit, scribit vicem tuam apud mc tua probi- 
 tas, verasque literas intimis sensibus meis exarat, 
 scribit morum simplicitas, et recti amor ; scribit inge- 
 nium etiam tuum, haudquaquam quotidianum, ct ma- 
 jorem in modum te mihi commendat. Quare noli 
 mihi, arcem illam medicinas tyrannicam nactus, terrorcs 
 istos ostentare, ac si salutes tuas scxcentas velles, sub- 
 ducta minutim ratiuncula, ad unum omnes a merepos- 
 cere, si forte ego, quod ne siverit unquam Deus, ami- 
 cititE desertor fierem ; atque amove terribile illud tirt- 
 TuxKTua quod cervicibus nostris videris imposuisse, ut 
 sine tua bona venia ne liceat aegrotare. Ego enim ne 
 nimis minitere, tui similes impossibile est quin amcm, 
 nam de ccetero quidem quid de me statuerit Deus nescio, 
 illud certe ; Shvov fioi tpwra, ttVep rw aXX(*>, rov koKov 
 tvearaKs. Nee tan to Ceres labore, ut in fabulis est, 
 Liberam fertur quaesivisse filiara, quanto ego banc tov 
 KaXov iSkav, veluti pulcherrimam quandam imaginem, 
 per omnes rerum formas et facies : (TroXXai ydp /xop^ai 
 Tuv Aatnoviwv :) dies noctesque indagare soleo, et quasi 
 ccrtis quibusdam vestigiis ducentem sector. Unde fit, 
 ut qui, spretis quae vulgus prava rerura aestimatione 
 opinatur, id sentire et loqui etesse audet; quod sumraa 
 per omne aevum sapientia optimum esse docuit, illi me 
 protinus, sicubi reperiam, necessitate quadam adjun- 
 gam. Quod si ego sive natura, sive meo fato ita sum 
 comparatus, ut nulla contentione, et laboribus meis ad 
 tale decus et fastigium laud is ipse valeara emergere ; 
 tamen quo minus qui eam gloriam assecuti sunt, aut eo 
 feliciter aspirant, illos semper colam, et suspiciam, nee 
 dii puto, nee homines prohibuerint. Caeterura jam 
 curiositati tuae vis esse satisfactum scio. Multasolicite 
 quaeris, etiam quid cogitem. Audi, Thcodote, verum 
 in aurem ut ne rubeam, et sinito paulisper apud te 
 grandia loquar; quid cogitem quaeris? ita mc bonus 
 Deus, immortalitatem. Quid agam vero ? Trrtpo^vw, et 
 volare meditor : scd tenellis admodum adhuc pennis 
 evehit se noster Pegasus, humile sapiamus. Dicam 
 jam nunc serio quid cogitem, in hospitium juridicorum 
 aliquod immigrare, sicubi amoena et umbrosa ambulatio 
 est, quod et inter aliquot sodales, commodior illic habi- 
 tatio, si domi manere, et op^ijr^piov tvnpiiriaripov quo- 
 cunque libitum erit excurrere ; ubi nunc sum, ut nosti, 
 obscure, et anguste sum ; de studiis etiam nostris 
 fies certior. Groecorum res continuata lectione de- 
 duximus usquequo illi Gro-'ci esse sunt desiti : Italo- 
 rum in obscura re diu versati sumus sub Longobardis, 
 et Francis, et Germanis, ad illud tempus quo illis ab 
 Rodolpho Germanise rege concessa libcrtas est; exinde 
 quid quaeque civitas suo marte gesserit, separatim le- 
 gcre praestabit. Tu vero quid ? quousque rebus domes- 
 ticis filius familias imminebis urbanarum sodalitatum 
 
EPISTOL^ FAMILIARES. 
 
 833 
 
 oblitus ? quod, nisi helium hoc novercale, vel Dacico, 
 vel Sarmatico infestius sit, debebis profecto maturare, 
 ut ad nos saltern in hyberna conccdas. Interim, quod 
 sine tua molestia fiat, Justinianum mihi Venetorum 
 historicum rogo mittas ; e<To mea fide aut in advcntum 
 tuum probe asscrvatum curabo ; aut, si mavis, baud 
 ita multo post ad te remissum. Vale. 
 Londino, Septemb. 23. 1637. 
 
 Benedicto BoNMATTHiEO Florentino. 
 
 8. Quod novas patriae linguse institutiones adornas 
 (Benedictc Bonmatthaee) jam operi fastig-ium imposi- 
 turus, et commune tu quidem cum summis quibusdam 
 ingeniis iter ad laudem incfrederis, et eam spera, quod 
 video, eamque de te opinionem apud cives tuos conci- 
 tasti, ut qui ab aliis quae tradita jam sunt, iis aut lu- 
 ccm, aut copiam, aut certe limam, atque ordinem tuo 
 marte facile sis allaturus. Quo nomine profecto popu- 
 lares tuos quam non vulgarem in modum tibi devinx- 
 eris, ing-rati nempe sint ipsi, si non perspexerint. 
 Nam qui in civitate mores hominum sapienter norit 
 formare, domique et belli pracclaris institutis regere, 
 ilium ego prae cacteris omni honore apprime dignum 
 esse existimem. Proximum buic tamcn, qui loqucudi 
 scribendique rationem et normam probo gentis sirculo 
 receptam, praeceptis regulisque sancire adnititur, et 
 Tcluti quodam vallo circummunire; quod quidem ne 
 quis transirc ausit, tantum non Romulca lege sit cau- 
 tum. Utriusque enim horum utilitatem conferre si 
 libet, justuni utrique et sanctum civiuni convictum alter 
 ille solus efficere potest ; hie vero solus liberalura, ct 
 splcndidum, et luculentum, quod proxime in votis est. 
 Ille in bostcm fines invadentem, ardorem credo cxcel- 
 sum, et intrepida consilia suppeditat ; hie barbariem 
 animos hominum late incursantcm, foedam et intesti- 
 nam ingcniorum perduellem, docta aurium censura, 
 authorunique bonorum expedita nianu, explodendam 
 sibi, et debcllandam suscipit. Neque enim qui sermo, 
 purusne an corruptus, quseve loquendi proprietas quo- 
 tidiana populosit, parvi interesse arbitrandum est, quae 
 res Athenis non serael saluti fuit : immo vero, quod 
 Platonis sententia est, immutato vestiendi more habi- 
 tuque graves in republica motus, mutationesque por- 
 lendi, equidem potius collabente in vitium atque erro- 
 rcm loquendi usu, occasum ejus urbis, remque humilem 
 et obscuram subsequi crediderim : verba enim partim 
 inscita et pudita, partim mendosa, perperam prolata ; 
 quid nisi ignavos et oscitantes, et ad servile quidvis 
 jam olim paratos incolarum animos baud levi indicio 
 declarant.'' Contra, nullum uuquam audivimus impe- 
 rium, nullam civitatem non mediocriter saltem floru- 
 isse, quamdiu linguoe sua gratia, suusque cultus con- 
 stitit. Tu itaque, Benedicte, banc operam reipublicae 
 tuae navaremodo, ut pergas, quam pulchram,quamque 
 solidam a civibus tuis necessario gratiam initurus sis, 
 vel bine liquido specta. Quoe a me eo dicta sunt, non 
 quod ego te quidquam horum ignorare censeam, sed 
 quod mihi persuadeam, in hoc te magis multo intentum 
 esse, quid tute patriae tuae possis persolvere, quam quid 
 ilia tibi jure oplimo sit debitura. De exteris jam nunc 
 
 dicam, quorum demerendi, si tibi id cordi est, persane 
 ampla in priesens oblata est occasio ; ut enim est apud 
 eos ingenio quis forte floridior, aut moribus amnenis et 
 elegantibus, linguam Hetruscam in deliciis habet prae- 
 cipuis, quin et in solida etiam parte eruditionis esse 
 sibi ponendam ducit, praesertim si Graeca aut Latina, 
 vel nullo, vel modico tinctu imbiberit. Ego certe istis 
 utrisque Unguis non extremis tantummodo labris ma- 
 didus ; sed siquis alius, quantum per annos licuit, 
 poculismajoribus prolutus, possum tamen nonnunquam 
 ad ilium Dantem,et Petrarcham, aliosque vestros com- 
 plusculos, libenter et cupide commcssatura ire : nee 
 me tam ipsse Athense Atticae cum illo suo pcllucido 
 Ilisso, nee ilia vetus Roma sua Tiberis ripa retinere 
 valuerunt; quin saepe Arnum vestrum, et Feesulanos 
 illos colics invisere amem. Jam vide, obsccro, num- 
 quid satis causae fuerit, quae me vobis ultimum ab 
 oceano hospitem per hosce aliquot dies dederit, ves- 
 traeque nationis ita amantem, ut non ullius, opinor, 
 magis. Quo magis merito potes meminisse, quid ego 
 tanto opere abs te contendere soleam ; uti jam incboatis, 
 majori etiam ex parte absolutis, velles, quanta maxima 
 facilitate resipsatulerit, in nostram exterorum gratiam, 
 de recta linguae pronuntiatione adhuc paululum quid- 
 dam adjicere. Caetcris enim sermonis vestri consultis 
 in banc usque diem id animi videtur fuisse, suis tantum 
 ut satisfacerent, de nobis nihil soliciti. Quanquam ille 
 mco quidem judicio, et famee suae, et Italici sermonis 
 gloriae, baud paulo certius consuluissent, si praecepta 
 ita tradidissent, ac si omnium mortalium refcrret ejus 
 linguoe scientiam appetere : verum per illos non stetit 
 quo minus nobis videremini vos Itali, intra Alpium 
 duntaxat pomteria sapere voluisse. Haec igitur laus 
 prcelibata nemini, tota erit tua, tibi intactam et inte- 
 gram hucusque seservat; nee ilia minus, si in tanta 
 scriptorum turba commonstrare separatim non grava- 
 bere, quis post illos decantatos Florentinac linguae auc- 
 tores poterit secundas baud injuria sibi asserere : quis 
 tragoedia insignis, quis in comoedia festivus et lepidus; 
 quis scriptis epistolis aut dialogis, argutus aut gravis; 
 quis in historia nobilis : ita ct studioso potiorem quem- 
 que eligere volenti non erit difficile, et erit, quoties va- 
 gari latius libebit, ubi pedem intrepide possit figere. 
 Qua quidem in re, inter antiques Ciceronemet Fabium 
 habebis, quos imiteris; vestrorum autem hominum 
 baud scio an ullum. Atque haec ego tametsi videor 
 mihi abs te (nisi me animus fallit) jam primo impe- 
 trasse, quoties in istius rei mentionem incidimus, quae 
 tua comitas est, et benignum ingenium ; nolo tamen id 
 tibi fraudi sit, quo minus exquisite, ut ita dicam, atque 
 elaborate exorandum te mihi esse putem. Nam quod 
 tua virtus, tuusque candor, minimum rebus tuis pre- 
 tium, minimamque aestimationem addicit; iis ego^ 
 justam volo, et exactam, cum rei dignitas, tum adeo 
 mea observantia imponat; et certe hoc aequum est ubi- 
 que, quanto quis petenti faciliorem se pnrbet, tanto 
 minus concedentis honori deesse oportebit. De caetero, 
 si forte cur in hoc argumento, Latina potius quam 
 vestra lingua utar, miraris; id factum ea gratia est ut 
 intelligas quam ego linguam abs te mihi praeceptis ex- 
 ornandam cupio, ejus me plane meam imperitiara, et 
 
8M 
 
 EPISTOL^ FAMIUARES. 
 
 inopiam Latine confiteri ; et liac ipsa ratione plus me 
 ▼aliturum apud te spcravi simul et illud, si canam ; et 
 Tenerandam e I^tiomatrem, infiliac causa sute mecum 
 adjutricem adduxissem, credidi fore ejus authoritati, et 
 reverentise, augustoeque per tot soecula majestati, nihil 
 ut denegares. Vale. 
 
 Florentice, Septemh. 10. 1638. 
 
 Ldc£ Holstenio RomtB in Vaticano. 
 
 9. Tametsi multa in hoc meo Italiee transcursu mul- 
 torum in me humaniter ct pcramicc facta, et possum, et 
 saepe soleo recordari ; tamen pro tarn brevi notitia, 
 haud scio an jure dicara uUius majora cxtitisse in me 
 benevolentiae indicia quam ea quae mihi abs tc profecta 
 sunt Cum enim tui conreniendi causa in Vaticanum 
 ascenderem, ig-notum prorsus, nisi si quid forte ab 
 Alexandro Cherubino dictum de me prius fuerat, sum- 
 ma cum humanitate recepisti ; mox in musseum comi- 
 teradraisso, et conquisitissimam librorum supellectilem, 
 et permultos insuper manuscriptos authores Greecos, 
 tuis lucubrationibus exornatos, adspicere licuit: quo- 
 rum partim nostro saeculo nondum visi, quasi in pro- 
 cinctu, Telut illse apud Maronem, 
 
 penitus convalle virenti 
 
 Inclusae animse superumque ad limen iturae. 
 
 expeditas modo tjpographi manus, et iiauvrvcfiv poscere 
 videbantur; partim tua opera etiamnum editi, passim 
 ab eruditis avide accipiuntur ; quorum et unius etiam 
 duplici dono abs te auctus dimittor. Tum nee aliter 
 crediderim, quam quae tu de me verba feceris ad pree- 
 stantissimum Cardin. Franc. Barberinum, iis factum 
 esse, ut cum ille paucis post diebus oKpoafta illud musi- 
 cum magnificentia vere Romana publice exhiberet, ipse 
 me tanta in turba qusesitum ad fores expectans, et pene 
 manu prehensum persane honorifice intro admiserit. 
 Qua ego gratia cum ilium postridie salutatum ac- 
 cessissem, tute idem rursus is eras, qui et aditum mibi 
 fecisti, et coUoquendi copiam ; quae quidem cum tanto 
 Tiro, quo etiam in summo dignitatis fastigio nihil bc- 
 nignius, nihil humanius, pro loci et temporis ratione 
 largiuscula profecto potius crat, quam nimis parca. 
 Atque ego (doctissime Holsteni) utrum ipse sim solus 
 tarn me amicum, et hospitem expertus, an omnes An- 
 glos, id spectans scilicet quod triennium Oxoniee Uteris 
 operam dederis, istiusmodi officiis etiam quoscunque 
 prosequi studium sit, certe nescio. Si hoc est, pul- 
 chre tu quidem Angliae nostrae, ex parte etiam tuoe, 
 itSaatdXta persolris ; priratoque nostrum cujusque 
 nomine, et patriae publico, parem utrobique gratiam 
 promereris. Sin est illud, eximium me tibi prae. caetc- 
 ris habitum, dignumque adeo visum quicum velis 
 ^iviav ■jToula^ai, et mibi gratulor de tuo judicio, et 
 tuum simul candorem pree meo merito pono. Jam 
 illud vero quod mihi negotium dedisse videbare, de in- 
 spiciendo codice Mediceo, sedulo ad amicos retuli, qui 
 quidem ejus rei efficiendse spem perexiguam in presens 
 Mtendunt. In ilia bibliotheca, nisi impetrata prius 
 Tenia, nihil posse exscribi, ne stylum quidem scripto- 
 riam admovisse tabulis permissum ; esse tamen aiunt 
 
 Romoe Joannem Baptistani Donium, is ad legendas 
 publice Greecas literas Florentiam vocatus indies cx- 
 pcctatur, per cum ut consequi possis quiE velis facile 
 esse; quamquam id sane mihi pergratum accidiss* i 
 si res tam pracsertim optanda quae sit, mea potius 
 opclla saltern aliquando plus promovisset, cum sit 
 indignum tam tibi honesta ct prcclara suscipienti, non 
 onincs undecunque homines, et rationes, et res favere. 
 De caetero, novo beneflcio devinxeris, si eminentissi- 
 mum cardinalem quanta potest obscrvantia meo no- 
 mine salutes, cujus magmc virtutes, rectique studium, 
 ad provehendas item omnes artes liberales egregie com- 
 paratum, semper mihi ob oculos versantur; tum ilia 
 mitis, et, ut ita dicam, summissa animi cclsitudo, quae 
 sola se deprimendo attollere didicit ; de qua vere dici 
 potest, quod de Cerere apud Callimachum est, diversa 
 tamen sententia, iOftara ntv x^^^i^ KnpaXa Si oi aVrtr' 
 oXi/xTTw. Quod caeteris fere principibus documento esse 
 potest, triste illud supercilium, et aulici fastus, quam 
 longe a vera magnanimitate discrepantes et alieni sint. 
 Nee puto fore, dum ille vivit, Estenses, Farnesios, aut 
 Mediceos, olim doctorum hominum fautores, ut quis 
 amplius desideret. Vale, doctissime Holsteni, ct si quis 
 tui, tuorumque studiorum amantior est, illi me quoque, 
 si id esse tanti existimas, ubicunque sim gentium fu- 
 turus, velim annumeres. 
 FlorenticB, Martii 30. 1639, 
 
 Carolo Dato Patricio Florentino. 
 
 10. Perlatis inopiuato Uteris ad me tuis, mi Carole, 
 quanta, et quam nova sim voluptate perfusus, quando- 
 quidem non est ut pro re satis queam dicere, volo ex 
 dolore saltem, sine quo vix ulla magna hominibus de- 
 lectatio concessa est, id aliquantum intelligas. Dura 
 enim ilia tua prima percurro, in quibus elegantia cum 
 amicitia pulchre sane contendit, merum illud quidem 
 gaudium esse dixerim, preesertim cum uti vincat ami- 
 citia, operam te dare videam. Statim vero cum incido 
 in illud quod scribis, ternas te jam olim ad me dedisse, 
 quas ego periisse scio, tum primum sincera ilia iniici, 
 tristique desiderio conturbari, coepta est Itetitia; mox 
 etiam gravius quiddam subit, in quo vicem meam do- 
 lere perssepe soleo, quos forte viciniae, aut aliqua nullius 
 usus necessitudo mecum, sive casu, sive lege conglu- 
 tinavit, illos nulla re alia commendabiles assidere quo- 
 tidie, obtundere, etiam enecare mehercule quotics coUi- 
 bitum erit ; quos, mores, ingenium, studia, tam belle 
 conciliaverant, illos jam pane omnes, aut morte, aut 
 iniquissima locorum distantia invideri mihi, et ita con- 
 festim e conspectu plerumque abripi, ut in perpetua 
 fere solitudine versari mihi necesse sit. Te, quod ais, 
 ex quo Florentia discessi, mea de salute solicitum, sem- 
 perque mei memorem fuisse, gratulor mihi sane, par 
 illud utrique et mutuum accidisse, quod ego me solum 
 sensisse meo fortasse merito arbitrabar. Gravis admo- 
 dum, ne te celem, discessus ille et mihi quoque fuit, 
 cosque meo animo aculeos infixit, qui etiam nunc al- 
 tius inhferent, quoties mecum cogito tot simul sodalcs 
 atque amicos tam bonos, tamque conimodos una in 
 urbe, longinqua ilia quidem, sed tamen charissima, in- 
 
EPISTOL^ FAMILIARES. 
 
 835 
 
 vitum me, ct plane diviilsura reltquisse. Tester ilium 
 mihi semper sacrum et solenne futurum Damonis tu- 
 mulum ; in cujus funere ornando cum luctu et moerore 
 oppressus, ad ea quse potui solatia confugere, et respi- 
 rare paulisper cupiebam, non aliud mihi qulcquam 
 jucundiiis occurrit, quam vestrum omnium g^ratissimara 
 mihi memoriam, tuique nominatim in mentem revo- 
 casse. Id quod ipse jamdiu leg-isse debes, siquidem 
 ad vos carmen illud pervenit, quod ex te nunc primum 
 audio. Mittendum eg'o sane sedulo curaveram, ut 
 esset ingenii quantulumcumque, amoris autem adver- 
 sum vos mei, vel illis paucis versiculis, emblematis 
 ad morem inclusis, testimonium haudquaquam obscu- 
 rum. Existimabam etiam fore hoc modo, ut vel te 
 vel alium ad scribendum allicerem ; mihi enim si 
 prior scriberem, necesse erat, ut vel ad omnes, vel si 
 quem aliis prantulissem, verebar ne in coeterorum, 
 qui id rescissent, oflTensionem incurrerem ; cum per- 
 multos adliuc superesse istic sperem, qui hoc k me 
 officium vendicarc certe potucrint. Nunc tu omnium 
 primus, et hac amicissima literarum provocatione, et 
 scribcndi officio terjam repetito dubitas tibi k me jam- 
 pridem respondendi vices reliquorum expostulatione 
 liberasti. Quanquam fateor accessisse ad illam silentii 
 causam, turbulentissimus iste, ex quo domum reversus 
 sum, Britanniie nostroe status, qui animum meum 
 paulo post ab studiis excolendis, ad vitam et fortunas 
 quoquo modo tuendas necessario convertit. Ecqueni 
 tu inter tot civium commissa praelia, caedes, fugas, 
 bonorum direptiones, recessum otio literario tutum dari 
 putes posse? Nos tanien etiam inter haec mala, quo- 
 niam de studiis meis certior fieri postulas, sermone 
 patno baud pauca in lucem dedimus; quae nisi essent 
 Anglice scripta, libens ad vos mitterem, quorum judi- 
 ciis plurimum tribuo. Poematum quidem quee pars 
 Latina est, quoniam expetis, brevi mittani ; atque id 
 sponte jamdudum fccissem, nisi quod, propter ea quee 
 in pontificcm Romanum aliquot paginis asperius dicta 
 sunt, suspicabar vestris auribus fore minus grata. 
 Nunc abs te peto, ut quam veniam, non dico Aligerio, 
 et Petrarchae vestro eadem in causa, sed metE, ut scis, 
 olim apud vos loquendi libertati, singulari cum huma- 
 nitate, dare consuevistis, eandem impetres (nam de te 
 mihi persuasum est) ab cseteris amicis, quotics de ves- 
 tris ritibus nostro more loquendum erit. Exequias 
 Ludovici regis a te descriptas libenter lego, in quibus 
 Mercurium tuum, non compitalem ilium et mercimo- 
 niis addictum, quem te nuper colere jocaris, sed facun- 
 dum ilium, Musis acceptum, et Mercurialium virorum 
 praesidem, agnosco. Restat ut de ratione aliqua et 
 modo inter nos constet, quo literoe deinceps nostras 
 certo itinera utriuque commeare possint. Quod non 
 admodum difficile videtur, cum tot nostri mercatores 
 negotia apud vos, et multa, et ampla habeant, quorum 
 tabellarii singulis hebdomadis ultro citroque cursitant; 
 quorum et navigia baud multo rarius bine illinc sol- 
 vunt. Hanc ego curam Jacobo Bibliopolse, vel ejus 
 hero mihi famiiiarissimo, recte, ut spero, committam. 
 Tu interim, mi Carole, valebis, et Cultellino, Francino, 
 Frescobaldo, Malatestse, Clementillo minori, et si quem 
 
 3 H 
 
 alium nostri amantiorem novisti ; toli denique Gad- 
 dianae academiee, salutem meo nomine plurimam dices. 
 Interim vale. 
 
 Londino, Aprilis 21. 1647. 
 
 Hermanno Millio, Comitis Oldenhurgici Oratori. 
 
 11. Ad literas tuas, nobilissime Hermanne, 17 De- 
 cemb. ad me datas, antequam respondeam ; ne me 
 silentii tarn diutini reum fortassis apud te peragas, 
 primum omnium oportet exponam, cur non responderem 
 prius. Primum igitur ne nescias, moram attulit, qua: 
 perpetua jam fere adversatrix mihi est, adversa vale- 
 tudo ; deinde valetudinis causa, necessaria quaedam et 
 subita in tedcs alias migratio, quam eo die forte ince- 
 pcram, quo tuae ad me literse perferebantur ; postremo 
 certe pudor, non habuisse me quicquara de tuu negotio 
 quod gratum fore tibi judicabam. Nam cum postridie 
 in dominum Frostium casu incidissem, exque eo dili- 
 genter qutererem, ccquod tibi rcsponsum ctiamnum 
 decerneretur ? (ipse enim a concilio valetudinarius 
 s'aepe aberam) respondit, et comniotior quidem, nihil 
 dum decerni, seque in expedienda re ista nihil profi- 
 cere. Sutius itaque duxi ad tempus silere, quam id 
 quod molestum tibi sciebam fore, extemplo scribere, 
 donee, quod ipse vellem, tuque tantopere expetebas, 
 libcntis.sime possem scribere; quod et bodie, uti spero, 
 pcrfeci ; nam cum in concilio praesidem de tuo negotio 
 semel atque iterum commonefecissem, statim ille retu- 
 lit, adcoque in crastinum diem de response quampri- 
 mum tibi dando constituta deliberatio est. Hac de re 
 si primus ipse, quod conabar, certiorem te facerem, et 
 tibi jucundissimum, ct mei in te studii indicium ali- 
 quod fore existimabam. 
 
 Westmonasterio. 
 
 Clat-issimo Viro Leonardo Philar* Atheniensi, 
 Ducts Parmensis ad Regem Gallia: Legato. 
 
 12. Benevolentiam erga me tuam, ornatissime 
 Leonarde Philara, nee non etiam prseclarum de nostra 
 pro P. A. Defensione* judicium, ex literis tuis ad do- 
 minum Augerium, virum apud nos, in obeundis abhac 
 republica legationibus, fide eximia illustrem, partim ea 
 de re scriptis cognovi : missam deinde salutem cum 
 effigie, atque elogio tuis sane virtutibus dignissimo : 
 literas denique abs te humanissimas per eundem accepi. 
 Atque ego quidem cum nee Germanorum ingenia, ne 
 Cymbrorum quidem, aut Suecorum aspernarisoleo, turn 
 certe tuum, qui et Athenis Atticis natus, et, literarum 
 studiis apud Italos foeliciter peractis, magno rerum usu 
 honores amplissimos es consecutus, judicium de me non 
 possum quin plurimi faciam. Cum enim Alexander 
 ille magnus in terris ultimis bellum gerens, tantos se 
 militiae labores pertnlisse testatus sit, ttjq trap A.9r)vai(i)v 
 fvco^iag eviKa', quidni ego mihi gratuler, meque ornari 
 quam maxime putem, ejus viri laudibus, in quo jam 
 uno priscorum Atheniensium artes, atque virtutes illae 
 celebratissimae, renasci tarn longo intervallo, et reflo- 
 rescere videntur. Qua ex urbe cum tot viri disertissimi 
 
 • Pro Populo Ansl'tano Defcufiio. 
 
836 
 
 EPISTOLiE KAMI LI ARES. 
 
 prodierint, corum potissimi^in scriptis ab adulescentia 
 pervolvendis, didicisse me libcns fateor qiiicquid ego 
 in literis profcci. Quod si mihi taiita vis diccndi ac- 
 cepta ab illis et quasi transfusa incssct, ut exercitus 
 nostros et classes ad libcraiidam ab Ottomannico ty- 
 raiino Greciani, eloqucntiae patriam, excitare possera, 
 ad quod facinus egregium nostras opes pcne iniplurare 
 Tideris, facerera profecto id quo nihil mihi antiquius 
 ant in Totis prius esset. Quid enira vel fortissimi olim 
 viri, vel eloquentissirai gloriosius aut se dignius esse 
 duxerunt, quam vel suadcndo vel fortiter faciendo i\fv- 
 dtpn^ sai avTOvofiH^ iroifiaOai tovc 'EXXijvac ? Verum et 
 aliud quiddam pneterea tentandum est, mea quidem 
 sententia longc maximum, ut quis antiquam in animis 
 Graccorum virtutem, industriam, laborum toleraiitiam, 
 antiqua ilia studia dicendo, suscitare atque accendere 
 possit. Hoc si quis efTecerit, quod a nemine potius 
 quam abs te, pro tua ilia insigni crga patriam pietate, 
 cum sumnia prudentia, reique militaris peritia, summo 
 deuiquc recuperandae libertatis pristinoe studio con- 
 juncta, expcctare debemus; neque ipsos sibi Grascos 
 neque ullam geutem Greecis defuturam esse confido. 
 Vale. 
 
 Londino, Jun. 1652. 
 
 RiCHARDO HeTHO. 
 
 13. Si quam ego operam, amice spectatissime, vel 
 in studiis tuis promovendis, vel in eorum subsidio com- 
 parando, unquam potui confcrre, quae sane aut nulla 
 plane, aut perexigua fuit ; tamen earn in bona indole, 
 quamvis serius cognita, tam bene tamque foDliciter col- 
 locatam, baud uno profecto nomine gaudeo; earn ctiam 
 adeo frugiferam fuisse, ut et ecclesite pastorem probum, 
 patrio! bonum civem, mihi denique amicum gratissi- 
 mum pepererit. Quod equidcm, cum ex csetera vita 
 tua atque ex eo, quod de religione et simul de repub- 
 lica pneclare sentis, tum prcccipue ex singulari animi 
 tui gratitudine, qure nulla absentia, nullo oetatis de- 
 cursu, extingui aut minui potest, facile intelligo. Ne- 
 que enim potest fieri, nisi in virtutc ac pietate, rcrum- 
 que optimarum studiis, progressus plusquam mediocres 
 fecisses, ut in eos, qui tibi ad ea acquirenda vel mini- 
 mum adjumentum attulere, tam grato animo esses. 
 Quapropter, mi alumne, hoc enim nomine in te utor li- 
 benter, si sinis; sic velim existimes, te cum primis a 
 me diligi, nee mibi quicquam optatius fore, quam, si 
 tua commoda rationesque fcrrent, quod et tibi etiam in 
 TOtis esse video, ut possis prope me alicubi degere, quo 
 frequentior inter nos atque jucundior, et vitae usus et 
 studiorum esset. Verum de eo, prout numini visum 
 erit, tibique expediverit. Quod scripseris deinceps, 
 poteris, si placet, nostro sermone scribere (quanquam tu 
 quidem Latinis baud parum profecisti) nequando 
 scriptionis labor alterutrum nostrum segiiiorem forte ad 
 scribendum reddiderit, utque sensus animi noster inter 
 no«, nullis exteri sermonis vinculis constrictus, eo libe- 
 rius expromere se possit. Literas autem tuas cuivis, 
 credo, ex ejus famulitio, cujus mentionem fecisti, rec- 
 tistime committes. Vale, 
 
 We$tmonatteriOf Decemb. 13. 1652. 
 
 Henrico Oldenburgo Brementium ad Sen. A. 
 Oratori. 
 
 14. Priores literte tuee, vir ornatissime, tum mihi 
 sunt datae, cum tabellarius vester diceretur jamjam re- 
 diturus : quo factum est, ut rcscribendi eo tempore 
 facultas nulla esset : id vero quamprimum faccre cogi- 
 tantcm inopinatoe qua;dam occupationes excepere ; 
 quo; nisi accidissent, librum profecto, defensiunis licet 
 titulo munitum, iion ita nudum ad te sine excusatione 
 misissem ; cum ecce tua; ad me alterac, in quibus pro 
 muneris tenuitate satis superque gratiarum sunt actae. 
 Et crat quidem baud semel in animo, Latinis tuis nos- 
 tra reponere ; ut qui sermonem nostrum exteris omni- 
 bus, quos ego quidem novi accuratius ac foelicius addi- 
 diceris, ne quam occasionem eundem quoque scribendi, 
 quod seque te arbitror accurate posse, amittercs. Verum 
 id prout dehinc impetus tulerit, tua periude optio sit. 
 De argumento quod scribis, plane mecum sentis, cla- 
 morem istiusmodi ad coelum sensus omnes humanos 
 fugere : quo impudentior sit is, necesse est, qui audisse 
 se eum tam audacter afiirmaverit. Is autem quis sit, 
 scrupuluni injecisti : atqui dudum, cum aliquoties hac 
 de re essemus inter nos locuti, tuque recens ex Hol- 
 landia hue venisses, nulla tibi de authore dubitatio 
 subesse videbatur; quin is Morus fuisset : cam nimi- 
 rum iis in locis famam obtiuuisse, ncminem preeterea 
 nominari. Si quid igitur hac de re certius nunc de- 
 mum babes, me rogo certiorem facias. De argumenti 
 tractatione velleni equidem (quid enim dissimulcm) abs 
 te non dissentire ; id pene ut audeam quid est quod 
 persuadere facilius possit, quam virorum, qualis tu es, 
 cordatorum sincerum judicium, omnisque expers adu- 
 lationis laudatio ? Ad alia ut me parem, nescio sane 
 an nobiliora aut utiliora (quid enim in rebus humanis 
 asserenda libertate nobilius aut utilius esse possit ?) 
 siquidem per valctudinem et hanc luminum orbitatem, 
 omni senectute graviorem, si denique per hujusmodi 
 rabularum clamores licuerit, facile induci potero : ne- 
 que enim inersotium unquam mihi placuit, et hoc cum 
 libertatis adversariis inopinatum certamen, diversis 
 longe, et amoenioribus omnino me studiis intentum, 
 ad se rapuit invitum ; ita tamen ut rei gesta,', quando 
 id necesse erat, nequaquam poeniteat : nam in vanis 
 operam consumpsisse me, quod innuere videris, longe 
 abest, ut putem. Verum de his alias ; tu tandem, vir 
 doctissime, ne te prolixius detineam, vale; meque in 
 tuis numera. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Julii 6, 1654. 
 
 Leonardo PhilaR£ Atheniensi. 
 
 15. Cum sim a pueritia totius Graeci nominis, tua- 
 rumque in primis Athenarum cultor, si quis alius, tum 
 una hoc semper mihi persuasissimum habebam, fore ut 
 ilia urbs proeclaram aliquando redditura vicem esset 
 benevolentiae erga se meae. Neque defuit sane tuae 
 patriee nobilissimee antiquus ille genius augurio mco ; 
 deditque te nobis et germanum Atticumetnostri aman- 
 tissimum : qui me, scriptis duntaxat notum, et locis 
 
EPISTOLiE FAMILIARES. 
 
 837 
 
 ipse disjunctus, Ijumanissime per literas compellaveris, 
 et Loiidinura postea inopinatus adveniens, tisensque 
 Don videntem, etiam in ea calaniitate, propter quam 
 conspectior neraini, despectior multls fortasse sim, 
 eadem benevolentia prosequaris. Cum itnque author 
 mihisis, ut visus recuperandi spem omnem ne abjiciam, 
 habere te amicum ac necessarium tuum Parisiis Tcve- 
 notum medicum, in curandis prtesertim oculis proe- 
 stantlssinium, quern sis de meis luminibus consulturus, 
 ei modo acceperis a me unde is causas morbi et symp- 
 tomata possit iutelligere; faciam equidem quod horta- 
 ris, ne oblalam undecunque divinitus fortassis opem 
 repudiare videar. DecenniHm,opiiior, plus minus est, 
 ex quo debilitari atque bebescere visum sensi, eodem- 
 que tempore lienem, visceraque omnia g'ravari, flati- 
 busque vexari : et mane quidem, siquid pro more legere 
 cocpissem, oculi statem pcnitus dolerc, lectionemque 
 refuj^erc, post mediocrem deinde corporis exercitatio- 
 nemrecreari ; quam aspexissem lucernam, iris qucedam 
 visa est redimere : baud ita multo post sinistra in parte 
 oculi sinistri (is euim oculus aliquot aniiis prius altera 
 nubilavit) caligo oborta, qute ad latus iilud sita eraut, 
 omnia eripiebat. Anteriora quoque, si dexterum forte 
 oculum clausisscm, minora visa sunt. Deficiente per 
 hoc fere tricnnium sensim atque paulatim altero quoque 
 luniine, aliquot ante mensibus quam visus omnis abole- 
 retur,qua; immotusipse cemerem, visa sunt omnia nunc 
 dextrorsum, nunc sinistrorsum natarc; froutem totam 
 atque tempora inveterati quidem vapores videntur in- 
 sedisse ; qui somnolcnta quadara gravitate oculos, a 
 cibo praesertim usque ad vcsperam, plerunque urgent 
 atque deprimunt; ut mihi baud raro veniat in mentem 
 Salmydessii ratis Phinei in Argonauticis, 
 
   KctpoQ <5I fitv afi(l>(KaXv\l/(v 
 
 7rop<pvptO(' yaiav St nipiK itoKtiai tjitptaiat 
 vitoSriv, a/3XiJXpw 3' im Ktitfiari kbkXit dvavSoc. 
 
 Sed neque illud omiserim, dum ad hue visus aliquan- 
 tum supererat, ut primum in lecto decubuissem, meque 
 in alterutrum latus reclinassem, consuevisse copiosum 
 lumen clausis oculis emicare ; deinde, imminuto indies 
 visu, colores perinde obscuriores cumimpctu et fragore 
 quodam intimo exilire ; nunc autem, quasi extincto 
 lucido, merus nigror, aut cineraceo distinctus, et quasi 
 intextus solet se affundere : caligo tamen quee perpetuo 
 obversatur, tarn noctu, quara interdiu, albenti semper 
 quam nigricanti propior videtur; et volvente se oculo 
 aliquantillum lucis quasi per rimulara admittit. Ex 
 quo tametsi medico tantundera quoque spei possit elu- 
 cere, tamen ut in re plane insanabili, ita me paro atque 
 compono; illudque saepe cogito, cum destinati cuiqne 
 dies tenebrarum, quod monet sapiens multi sint, meas 
 adhuc teuebras, singulaii Numinis benignitate, inter 
 otium et studia, vocesque amicorum, et salutationes, 
 illis letbalibus multo esse raitiores. Quod si, ut scrip- 
 tum est, non solo pane vivet homo, sed omni verbo pro- 
 deunte per os Dei, quid est, cur quis in hoc itidem non 
 acquiescat, non solis se oculis, sed Dei ductu an pro- 
 videntia satis oculatura esse. Sane duramodo ipse mihi 
 prospicit, ipse mihi providet, quod facit, meque per 
 
 omnem vitam quasi manu ducit atque deducit, ne ego 
 meos oculos, quandoquidem ipsi sic visum est, libens 
 feriari jussero. Teque, mi Philara, quocunque res ceci- 
 derit, non minus forti et confirmato animo, quam si Lyn- 
 ceus essem, valere jubeo. 
 
 Westmonaslerio, Septemh. 28, 1654. 
 
 Leoni ab Aizema. 
 
 16. Pergratum est eandem adhuc memoriam reti- 
 nere te mei, quara antea benevolentiam, dum apud nos 
 eras, me semel atque iterum invisendo, perbumaniter 
 significasti. Ad librum quod attinet de divortiis, quern 
 dedisse te cuidam Hollandice vertendum scribis, mal- 
 lem equidem Latine vertendum dedisses: nam vulgus 
 opiniones nondum vulgares, quemadmodum excipere 
 soleat, in iis libris expertus jam sum. Tres enim ea de 
 re tractatus olim scripsi : primum duobus libris, quibus 
 doctrina ct disciplina divortii, is enim libro titulus est, 
 diffuse continetur: alterum qui Tetrachordon inscribi- 
 tur, et in quo quatuor praecipua loca scripturse supra 
 ea doctrina quae sunt, explicantur : tertium, Colaste- 
 rion, in quo cuidam sciolo respoiidelur. Quem horum 
 tractatum vertendum dederis,quamveeditionem,nescio; 
 nam eorum primus bis editus est, et posteriori editione 
 multo auctius. Qua de re nisi certior jam factus sis, 
 aut si quid a me aliud velle te intellexero, ut vel edi- 
 tionem correctiorem, vel reliquos tractatus tibi mittam, 
 faciam sedulo et libeuter. Nam mutatum in iis quic- 
 quam aut additum non est in praesentia quod velim. 
 Itaque si in tua sententia praestiteris, fidum ego mihi 
 interprctem, tibi fausta omnia exopto. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Feb. 5, 1654. 
 
 EzECHiELi Spanhemio Gencventi. 
 
 17. Nescio quo casu accident, ut literte tuce post 
 paulo minus trcs menses mihi sint redditee, quam abs te 
 datae : meis profeclo expeditiore prorsus ad te com- 
 meatu plane est opus; quas dum de die in diem scri- 
 bere constituebam, occupationibus quibusdam continuis 
 impeditus, in alterum fere triraestre spatium procras- 
 tinasse me sentio. Tu vero ex hac niea tarditate re- 
 scribendi velim intelligas, benevolentise erga me tuse 
 non refiixisse gratiam, sed eo altius insedisse memo- 
 riam, quo saepius atque diutius de officio meo vicissim 
 tibi reddendo indies cogitabam. Habet boo saltern 
 officii tarda solutio quo se excuset, dum clarius confi- 
 tetur deberi, quod tanto post tempore, quam quod 
 statim persolvitur. Ilia te imprimis literarum initio 
 non fefellit de me opinio; non mirari si a peregrino 
 bomine salutor: neque enim rectius de me senseris, 
 quam si sic existimes, neminem me verum bonum in 
 peregrini aut ignoti numero habere. Talem te esse 
 facile mihi persuadetur, cum quod patris doctissimi 
 atque sanctissimi es fiHus, tum quod a viris bonis 
 bonus existimaris, tum denique quod odisti malos. 
 Cum quibus, quandoquidem mihi quoque bellum esse 
 contigit, fecit pro humanitate sua Calandrinus, deque 
 mea sententia, ut significaret tibi, pergratum mihi fore, 
 si contra communem adversarium tua subsidia mecum 
 
838 
 
 EPISTOLiE FAMILIARES. 
 
 coramunicasses. Id quod his ipsis Uteris perhumaiiiter 
 fecisti, quarum partem, tacito autboris nomine, tiio erga 
 me studio confisus, in dcfensionem meam pro testimo- 
 nio inserere non dubitavi. Quern cg'o librum, ut pri- 
 mum in lucem prodierit, si quis erit cui recte possim 
 committere, mittendum ad te curabo. Tu interim quas 
 ad me literas destinaveris, Turrcttino Genevensi Lon- 
 dini comraoranti, cujus illic fratrem nosti,haud frustra, 
 puto, inscripseris : per quern ut ad vos bre nostrce, ita ad 
 iios vestrac, commodissimc pervenerint. De coRtero 
 scias velim, et te plurimi tuo merito a me tieri, mcque 
 uti porro abs te diligar, imprimis velle. 
 Westmonasterio, Martii 24, 1654. 
 
 Henrico Oldenburgo Bremensium ad Sen. A. 
 Or atari. 
 
 18. OccuPATiOREM repererunt me tuee literie quas 
 adolescens Ranaleius attulit, unde cogor esse brevior 
 quam vcllem : tu vero quas abiens promiseras, eas ita 
 probe reddidisti, ut ?es alienum nemo sanctius ad ca- 
 lendas, credo, persolvisset. Secessum istum tibi, 
 quamvis mibi fraudi sit, tamen quoniam tibi esse 
 Toluptati, g'ratulor; turn illam quoque foelicitatem 
 animi tui, qaem ab urbane vel ambitione vel otio ad 
 sublimium rerum contemplationem tarn facile potes at- 
 tollere. Quid autem secessus ille conferat, prseter li- 
 brorum copiam, nescio : et quos illic nactus es studiorum 
 socios, eos suopte ingenio potius quam disciplina loci 
 tales esse existimem ; nisi forte ob desiderium tui ini- 
 quior sum isti loco quia te detinet. Ipse interim recte 
 animadrertis, nimis illic multos esse qui suis inanissi- 
 rois argutiis tarn divina quam humana contaminent, 
 ne plane nihil agere videantur dignum tot stipendiis, 
 quibus pessimo publico aluntur. Sed tu ista melius 
 per te sapis. Tam vetusti a diluvio usque Sinensinm 
 fasti, quos ab jesiiita Martinio promissos esse scribis, 
 propter rerum novitatem avidissime proculdubio expec- 
 tantur: verum auctoritatis, aut firmamenti, ad Mosaicos 
 libros adjungere quid possint non video. Salutem tibi 
 reddit Cjriacus noster, quem salutatum volcbas. Vale. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Junii 25, 1656. 
 
 Nobilissimo Adolescenti Richardo Jonesio. 
 
 19. Parantem me semel atque iterum ad proximas 
 tuas literas rescribere, subita quoedam negotia, cujus- 
 modi mea sunt, utnosti,pr8eTcrterunt: postea excucur- 
 risse te in ficina qutedam loca audiveram; nunc dis- 
 cedens in Hybemiam mater tua praestantissima, cujus 
 discessu uterque nostrum dolere baud mediocriter de- 
 bemus, nam et mibi omnium necessitudinum loco fuit, 
 has ad te literas ipsa perfert. Tu vero quod de meo 
 erga te studio pcrsuasus es, recte facis ; tibique tanto 
 plus indies persuadeas velim, quanto plus bonee indo- 
 lis, bonaeque frugis in te esse, facis ut intelligam. Id 
 quod Deo dante, non solum in te recipis, sed quasi ego 
 te sponsione lacessissem, facturum te satisdas atque 
 vadaris; et velut judicium pati et judicatum solvere ni 
 facias, non recusas : delector sane hac tua de temetipso 
 tam bona spe ; cui nunc decssc non potes ; quin siraul 
 
 non promissis niodo tuis non stetisse, verum etiam va- 
 dimonium ipse tuum deseruisse videare. Quod scribis 
 non displicere tibi Oxonium, ex eo profecisse te quic- 
 quam aut sapientiorem esse factum, non adducis ut 
 crcdam : id mibi longe aliis rebus osteiidere debebis. 
 Victorias principum quas laudibus tollis, ct res ejus- 
 modi in quibus vis plurimum potest, nolim te philoso- 
 phos jam audientem nimis admirari. Quid enim mag- 
 nopere mirandum est, si vervecum in patria valida nas- 
 cantur cornua, quae urbes et oppida arietare valentissime 
 possint ? Tu magna exempla non ex vi et robore, sed ex 
 justitia et temperantia ab ineunte aetate pondcrare jam 
 disce atque cognoscere : vale; meoque fac nomine, sa- 
 lutem ornatissimo viro Henrico Oldenburgo tuo con- 
 tubernali plurimam dicas. 
 Westm. Sept. 21, 1656. 
 
 Ornatissimo Adolescenti Petro Heimbachio. 
 
 20. Promissa tua,mi Heimbachi, cceteraque omnia, 
 quse tua virtus pree se fort, cumulate implevisti, prseter- 
 quam desiderium meum reditus tui quem intra duos ad 
 summum menses fore pollicebaris; nunc, nisi me teni- 
 poris ratio tui cupidum fallit, trimestris pene abes. 
 De Atlante, quod abs te petebam, abunde praestitisti ; 
 non ut mibi comparares, sed tantummodo ut pretium 
 libri minimum indagares : centum et trigiuta Florenos 
 postulari scribis; monteni ilium opinor Mauritanum, 
 non librum Atlautem, dicis tam immani pretio coemeu- 
 dum. Ea nunc etiam tjpographorum in excudcndis 
 libris luxuries est, ut bibliothecoc non minus quam villae 
 sumptuosa supellex jam facta videatur. Mibi certe 
 cum pictte tabulte ob ceecitatem usui esse vix possint, 
 dum orbem terrse frustra ccecis oculis perlustro, quanti 
 ilium librum emissem, vereor ne tanti videar lugere 
 potius orbitatem meam. Tu banc insuper impendas 
 mihi operani, rogo, ut cum reversus eris, certioreni me 
 facere queas, quot sint integri operis illius volumina, 
 et duarum cditionum, Blaviance videlicet et JansenianoB, 
 utra sit auctior et accuratior: id quod ex teipso jam 
 brevi redituro potius quam ex alteris lileris, coram au- 
 diturum me esse spero. Interim vale, teque nobis 
 quamprimum redde. 
 
 Westm. Novemh. 8, 1656. 
 
 Ornatissimo Viro Emerico Bigotio. 
 
 21. Quod in Angliam trajicienti tibi dignus sura 
 visus, quem prsetcr caeteros visendum duceres et salu- 
 tandum,fuit sane mihi et merito quidem gratum ; quod 
 per literas tanto etiam intervallo nunc denuo salutas, 
 id aliquantu fuit gratius. Poteras enim primo aliorum 
 fortassis opinione ductus ad mc vcnisse, per literas nunc 
 redire, nisi proprio judicio vel saltem benevolentia re- 
 ductus, vix poteras. Unde est sane, ut posse videar jure 
 mihi gratulari : multi enim scriptis editis floruere, 
 quorum viva vox et consuetudo quotidiana nihil fere 
 preetulitnon demissum atque vulgare: ego si id assequi 
 possum, ut si qua commode scripsi, iis par animo ac 
 moribus esse videar ; et pondus ipse scriptis addidero, 
 ct laudem vicissim, quantulacunque ea est, cu tamen 
 
 I 
 
epistolj: familiares. 
 
 839 
 
 niajorera ab ipsis retuleio : cum rectum et laudabile 
 quod est, id non magis ab authoribus piaestantissimis 
 accepisse, quam ab iiitimo sensu mentis atque animi 
 dcpromisisse purum atque sincerum videbor. De niea 
 igitur animi tranquillitate in Jioc tanto luminis detri- 
 mento, deque mea in excipiendis exteris hominibus 
 comitate ac studio, persuasum tibi esse gfaudeo. Orbi- 
 tatem certe luminis quidni leniter feram, quod non tarn 
 amissum quam revocatum intus atque relractum, ad 
 acuendam potius mentis aciem quam ad hebetandam, 
 spereni. Quo fit, ut neque literis irascar, nee earura 
 studio pcnitus intermittam, etiamsi me tam male mul- 
 taverint : tam enim morosus nc sim, Mysorum reg^is 
 Ttlephi saltern exemplum erudiit; qui eo telo, quo vul- 
 neratus est, sanari postea non recusavit. Quod ad 
 ilium librura de modo tenendi parlamenta quem apud 
 te babes, ejus dcsignata loca ex codice clarissimi viri 
 Domini Bradsciavi, ncc non ex codice Cottoniano, vel 
 emendanda, vel dubia si erant, confirmanda curavi ; ut 
 ex rcddita bic tibi tua chartula perspicies. Quod autem 
 scire cupis, num etiam in arce Londinensi autographum 
 hujus libri extet, niisi qui id quoereret ex feciali,cui ac- 
 toruni custodia mandata est, et quo ipse utor familiari- 
 ter : respoudit is, nullum exemplar illius libri iis in 
 monumentis extare. Tu vicissim quam mibi opcram 
 defers in re libraria procuranda, perg'ratum babeo ; 
 desunt mibi ex Bysantinis bistoriis, Tbeophanis Chro- 
 nograpbia Groec. Lat. fol. Constant. Manassis Breviari- 
 tim Historicum, et Codini Excerpta de Antiquit. C. P. 
 Grtec. Lat. fol. Anastasii Bibliothecarii Hist, et Vitee 
 Rom. Pontific. fol. quibus Mich-telem Glycam,ct Joan- 
 nem Sinnamum, Anna; Comncnse Continuatorem,ex ca- 
 dem tjpogp-aphia, si modo prodierunt, rogo adjicias : 
 quam qucas niinimonon addo ; cum quod, id ut te mo- 
 neam hominem frug'alissimum, non est opus, turn quod 
 pretium eorum librorum certum esse aiunt, et om- 
 nibus notum : nummos D. Stuppius numerato se tibi 
 curaturum recepit, ncc non etiam de vectura, quae sit 
 commodissima, provisurum. Ego vero quae tu vis, 
 quaeque optas, cupio tibi omnia. Vale. 
 Westmonasterio, Martii 24. 1656. 
 
 Nobili Adolescenti Richardo Jonesio. 
 
 22. Tardius multo accepi literas tuas quam abs te 
 datae sunt, post quindecim puto dies quam sepositae 
 alicubi apud matrera delituissent. Ex quibus tandem 
 studium erga me tuum gratique animi sensum liben- 
 tissimc cognovi : mea certe erga te benevolentia moni- 
 taque fidissima, neque optimte matris tusD de me 
 opinioni atque fiducire, neque indoli tuse unquam 
 defuere. Est quidem, ut scribis, amoenitatis atque 
 salubritatis eo in loco, quo nunc recessisti, est et libro- 
 rum quod academioe satis esse possit; si ad ingenium 
 incolarum tantum conferret ista soli amoenitas quan- 
 tum ad delicias confert, ad fcelicitatem illius loci nihil 
 deesse videretur. Et bibliotheca etiam illic instructis- 
 sima est; verura nisi studiosorum mentes disciplinis 
 optimis instructiores inde reddantur, apothecam libro- 
 rum illam quam bibliotbecam rectius dixeris. Opor- 
 tcre itaque ad btcc omnia discendi animum atque in- 
 
 dustriam accedere percommode sane agnoscis. Tu e.x 
 ista sententia, neqnando tecum agcre necesse habeam, 
 etiam atque etiam vide ; id facillimo negotio evitabis, 
 si ornatissimi viri Henrici Oldenburgi qui tibi prcesto 
 est, gravissimis atque amicissimis prreceptis diligenter 
 parueris. Vale mi Richarde dilectissime, et ad virtu- 
 tem ac pietatem, matris praestantissimae fceminse ex- 
 emplo, veluti Timotbeum alterum, sinito te adhorter 
 atque accendam. 
 Westmonasterio. 
 
 Illustrissimo Domino Henrico de Brass. 
 
 23. Video te, domino, id quod perpauci ex hodierna 
 juventutc faciunt, qui oras exteras perlustrant, non 
 juvenilium studiorum sed amplioris undique compa- 
 randae cruditionis causa, veterum excmplo j)bilosopho- 
 rum, recte et sapieiiter peregrinari. Quanquam ea 
 quoe scribis quoties intueor, ad eruditionem non tam 
 aliunde capiendam, quam aliis impertiendam, ad com- 
 mutandas potius, quam ad coemendas bonas merces, 
 accessisse ad exteros videris. Atque utinam mibi tam 
 facile esset, ista tua prteclara studia rebus omnibus 
 adjuvare ac promovere, quam est jucundum sane et 
 pergratum tuam egregiam indolem id a me petere. 
 Quod scribis tamen statuisse te ut ad me scribercs, 
 meaque responsa peteres ad eas difficultates enuclean- 
 das, circa quas a multis saeculis bistoriarum scriptores 
 videntur caligasse, nihil equidem hujusmodi neque 
 unquam mibi sumpsi, neque ausim sumere. De Sal- 
 luslio quod scribis, dicam libere, quoniam ita vis plane 
 ut dicam quod scntio, Sallustium cuivis Latiuo histo- 
 rico me quidem anteferre ; quae etiam coustans fere 
 antiquorum sententia fuit. Habet suas laudes tuus 
 Tacitus; sed eas meo quidem judicio niaximas, quod 
 Sallustium nervis omnibus sit imitatus. Cum haec te- 
 cum coram dissererem, perfecisse videor, quantum ex 
 eo quod scribis conjicio, ut de illo cordatissimo scrip- 
 tore ipse jam idem prope sentias : adeoque ex me 
 quaeris, cum is in exordio belli Catilinarii perdifficile 
 esse dixerit bistoriam scribere, propterea quod facta 
 dictis exaequanda sunt, qua potissimum ratione id 
 assequi bistoriarum scriptorera posse existimera. Ego 
 vero sic existimo ; qui gestas res dignas digne scrip- 
 serit, eum animo non minus magno rerumque usu prae- 
 ditum scribere oportere, quam is qui eas gesserit: ut 
 vel maximas pari animo coraprehendere atque metiri 
 possit, et comprehensas sermone puro atque casto dis- 
 tincte graviterque narrare : nam ut ornate, non admo- 
 dum laboro; historicum enim, non oratorem require. 
 Crebras etiam sententias, et judicia de rebus gestis in- 
 terjccta prolixe nollem, ne, interrupta rerura serie, 
 quod politici scriptoris munus est historicus invadat ; 
 qui si in consiliis explicandis, factisque enarrandis, non 
 suum ingenium aut conjecturam, sed veritatcm potissi- 
 mum sequitur, suarum profecto partium satagit. Ad- 
 diderira et illud Sallustianum, qua in re ipse Cato- 
 nem maxime laudavit, posse multa paucis absolvere ; 
 id quod sine acerrimo judicio, atque etiam tempc- 
 raiitia quadam neminem posse arbitror. Sunt multi 
 in quibus vel sermonis elegantiara, vel congestarum 
 
840 
 
 EPISTOL^E FAAIILIARES. 
 
 rerum copiam non desitleres ; qui brevitatem cum 
 copia cuiijunxcrit, id est, qui niulta paucis absolvent, 
 princeps nico judicio Latiiiorum est Salhistius. Has 
 ego virtutcs historico iiiesse putem oportere, qui facta 
 dictis excequaturum se speret. Veruni quid ego tibi 
 ista? ad quu> tu ipse, quo es ingenio, per te sufHcis; 
 quique earn ingressus es viani, iu qua si pergis, iiemi- 
 nem te ipso doctiorcm poteris brevi consulerc : et uti 
 pergas, quanquam tibi bortatu nun opus est cujusquam, 
 ne omnino tanien nibil pro expectatione tua respon- 
 disse videar, quantum valere me auctoritate apud te 
 sinis, boKor magnopere atque auctor sum. Vale, 
 tuaque virtute et sapientiac acquirendae studio macte 
 esto. 
 
 Wettmontuterioy Idibus Quintil. 1657. 
 
 Henrico Oldenburgo. 
 
 24. Quod Salmuriura peregrinationis vestrcc, ut puto, 
 sedem incolumes pervenistis, gaudeo : hoc enim te non 
 fefellit, id mibi imprimis gratissimum fore; utqui ct tc 
 merit© tuo diiigam, et suscepti itineris causam tam esse 
 faonestam atque laudabilemsciam. Quod autcm audisti 
 accersitum ecclesitE tam illustri erudiendte Antistitem 
 tam infamem, id mallem quivis alius in Charontis, 
 quam tu in Cbarentonis cymba audisses : verendum 
 enim est ralde, ne toto coclo devius frustretur, quisquis 
 tam foedo auspice perventurum se unquam ad superos 
 putat. Vac illi ecclesice (Deus modo avertat omen) ubi 
 tales ministri aurium causa potissimum placent, quos 
 ecclcsia, si reformata vera vult dici, ejiceret rectius 
 quam cooptaret. Quod scripta nostra nemini nisi pos- 
 ccnti impertisti, recte tu quidem et eleganter, neque ex 
 mea solum, sed etiam ex Horatiana sententia fecisti ; 
 
 Ne studio nostri pecces, odiumque libellis 
 Sedulus importes opera vehemente. 
 
 Commorabatur vir doctus quidam, familiaris meus, 
 superiore testate Salmurii; is ad me scripsit, librum 
 ilium iis in locis expeti : unum exemplar duutaxat 
 misi; rescripsit, placitum esse aliquod doctis, quibus- 
 cum conimunicaverat, ut nihil supra. Nisi iis rem gra- 
 tam facturum me fuisse existimassem, parsissem utique 
 et tuo oneri et sumptui meo. Verum, 
 
 Si te forte mea; gravis uret sarcina chartse, 
 Abjicito potius, quam, quo perferre juberis, 
 Clitellas ferus impingas, 
 
 Laurentio nostro, ut jussisti, salutem nomine tuo dixi: 
 de csetero, nihil est quod abs te prius agi, priusve 
 curare velim, quam ut tu atque alumnus tuus recte 
 valeatis, votorumque compotes ad nos quamprimuni 
 redeatis. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Calend. Sextil. 1657. 
 
 Nobili Adoleicenti Richardo Jonesio. 
 
 26. Confecisse te sine incommodo tam longum iter, 
 et spretis Lutetiarum illccebris, tanta celcritate eo con- 
 tcndisse, ubi literato otio, doctorumq. consuetudine frui 
 poBsis, ct magnopere leetor, et te tuae indolis laudo. 
 
 Illic quoad te continebis in portu cris; Syrtcs ct Sco- 
 pulos, et Sirenum cantus alias tibi cavendum. Quin ct 
 vindemiam, qua oblectare tc cogitas, Salmuricnsem 
 nimium satire te nolim, nisi in animo quoque sit, mus- 
 tum illud Liberi liberiore Musarum latice quinta plus 
 parte diluere. Verum ad hscc, me etiam taccntc, hor- 
 tatorem liabes eximium, quem si audis, tibimet profecto 
 optime consulueris, et priestantissimam parentcm tuam 
 sunimo gaudio, et cresccntc indies amorc tui affcccris. 
 Quod uti facere possis, a Deo Opt. Max. pctcre quoti- 
 die debes. Vale, et ad nos quam optinius, bonisquc 
 artibus quam cultissimus, fac redeas : id mihi prcctcr 
 cseteros jucundissimum erit. 
 Wcstm. Calend. Sextil. 1657. 
 
 Illustrissimo Domino Henrico de Bras.s. 
 
 26. Impeditus per bosce dies occupationibus qui- 
 busdam, illustrissime Domine, scrius rescribo quam 
 Tolebam. Volebam enim eo citius, quod literas tuas 
 multa jam nunc eruditione plenas, non tam prtecipiendi 
 tibi quicquam (id quod a me honoris credo mci, non 
 usus tui causa postulas) quam gratulandi duntaxat, 
 reliquisse mihi locum videbam. Gratulor auemt et 
 mihi imprimis foelicitatcm meam, qui Sallustii sentcn- 
 tiam ita commode explicasse videar, et tibi tam assi- 
 duam illius auctoris sapientissimi tanto cum fructu 
 lectionem. De quo idem tibi ausim confirmare quod 
 de Cicerone Quintilianus, sciat se baud parum in re 
 historica profecisse cui placeat Sallustius. Illud autem 
 Aristotclis praeceptum ex rhetoricorum tertio quod 
 explicatum cupis, sentcntiis utendum est in narratione 
 et in fide, moratum enim est ; non video quid habeat 
 magnopere explicandum, modo ut narratio ct fides, 
 quae et probalio dici solet, ea hie intelligatur, qua 
 rhetor, non qua historicus utitur : diversse enim sunt 
 partes rhetoris et historici, sive narrant, sive probant ; 
 quemadmodum et artes ipsae inter se diversse sunt. 
 Quid autem conveniat historico, ex auctoribus antiquis 
 Polybio, Halicarnassaeo, Diodoro, Cicerone, Luciano, 
 aliisque niultis, qui eadere praecepta qua;dam sparsim 
 tradidcre, rectius didiceris. Ego vero ct studiis tuis 
 et itineribus secunda omnia atque tuta exopto, dignos- 
 que successus eo animo ac diligentia, quam rebus 
 quibusque optimis adhibere te video. Vale. 
 
 Westm. Decemb. 16, 1657. 
 
 Ornatissimo Viro Petro Heimbachio. 
 
 27. Literas tuas Haga comitis dat. 18 Dec. accepi : 
 ad quas, quoniam id tuis rationibus expedire video, 
 eodem die, quo mihi sunt redditcp, rescribendum putavi. 
 In iis post gratias actas ob beneficia nescio qute mea, 
 qutc vellem sane non essent nulla, ut qui tua causa 
 quidvis cupiam, petis ut te per D. Laurcntium oratori 
 nostro in Hollandiam designato commcndarem : quod 
 -quidem dctleo in me situm non esse ; cum propter pau- 
 cissimas familiaritates meas cum gratiosis, qui domi 
 fere, idque libcnter me contineo ; tum quod is credo, 
 c portu jam solvit, jamquc adventat, secumque habet 
 in comitatu quem sibi ab epistulis vult esse, quod tu 
 
EPISTOL^ FAMILIARES. 
 
 841 
 
 munus apud eura petis. Verura in ipso discessu jam 
 tabellarius est. Vale. 
 
 Westmonasterio, Decemb. 18, 1657. 
 
 JoANNi BadI£0 Pfls/on Arausionensi. 
 
 28. Quod tardius ad te rescribo, vir clarissime et 
 reverende, non recusabit, credo, noster DurtEus, quo 
 minus tardioris culpam rescriptionis a me in ipsum 
 transferam. Posteaenim quani schedulae illius, quam 
 mibi recitatam volebas, de iis quce Evangelii causa 
 cgisses atque perpessus esses, copiam mihi fecit, non 
 distuli pararc has ad te literas ut ei darem tabellario, 
 qui primus discessisset, soUicitus quam in partem silen- 
 tium meum tam diuturnum interpretarere. Maximam 
 interim habeo gratiam MoliniEO vestro Nemausensi, 
 qui suis de me sermonibus ct amicissima proBdicationc, 
 tot per ea loca bonorum virorum me in gratiam imniisit. 
 £t sane quanquam non sum nescius, mc vel co quod 
 cum adversario tanti nominis publico jussus certamcn 
 non detrectaverim, vel propter argumenti celcbritatem, 
 vel denique scribendi genus longe lateque satis inno- 
 tuisse ; sic tamen existimo, me tantundcm duntaxat 
 habere famas, quantum habeo bonae existiraationis apud 
 bonos. Atque in eadeni te quoque esse sententia, 
 plane video ; qui veritatis Christiante studio atque 
 amore accensus, tot labores pertuleris, tot hostcs susti- 
 nueris; caquc quotidie fortiter facias, quibus tantum 
 abest, ut ullam ab improbis famam tibi queeras, ut 
 eorum certissima odia et maledicta in te concitare non 
 verearis. O tc beatum ! quern Deus unum ex tot mil- 
 libus virorum, alioqui sapientum atque doctorura, ex 
 ipsis inferorum portis ac faucibus ereptum, ad tam 
 insignem atque intrcpidara Evangelii sui professio- 
 neni evocavit. Et habeo nunc quidem cur putem Dei 
 voluntate singulari factum, ut ad te citius uon roscri- 
 berira : cum enim intelligerem ex Uteris tuis, te ab 
 infestis undique hostibus petitum atque obsessum, 
 circumspicere, et merito quidem, quo te posses in ex- 
 tremo discrimine, si ita res tulisset, recipere, et Angliam 
 tibi in primis placuisse, gaudebam equidem non uno 
 nomine, te id consilii cepisse ; cum tui potiundi spe, 
 turn te de mea patria tam prceclare sentire : illud dole- 
 bam, non turn vidisse me unde tibi hie apud nos prce- 
 sertim Anglice nescient!, pro eo ac deceret prospectum 
 esset posset. Nunc vero peropportune accidit ut mi- 
 nister quidam Gallicus aetate confectus, ante paucos 
 dies h vita migraverit. In ista ecclesia qui plurimum 
 possunt, teque illis in locis non satis tuto versari intel- 
 ligunt (non hoc incertis rumoribus collectuni, sed ex 
 ipsis auditum refero) cooptatum te illius ministri in lo- 
 cum suramopere cupiunt, immo invitant; sumptusque 
 itineris suppeditandos tibi decreverunt; atque ita tibi 
 de re familiari provisum iri pollicentur, ut ministrorura 
 apud nos Gallicorum nemini melius ; nee tibi quic- 
 quam defore, quod ad munus evangelicum apud se li- 
 benter obeundum possit conducere. Quare advola 
 quamprimum, si me audis, vir reverende, ad cupidissi- 
 mos tui, messem hie messurus, etsi commodoruni bujus 
 mundi fortasse non ita uberem, tamen, quam tui sirailis 
 potissimum exoptant, animarum, ut s])cro, numerosam : 
 
 tibique persuadeas, te viris bonis omnibus expectatis- 
 simum esse venturum ; et quanto citius, tanto gra- 
 tiorem. Vale. 
 
 Westmonasterio, April. 21, 1659. 
 
 Henrico Oldenburgo. 
 
 29. SiLENTii, quam petis veniam tui, dabis potius 
 mei ; cujus erant, si memini, respondendi vices. Me 
 certe non imminula erga te voluntas, hoc enimpersua- 
 sissimum tibi esse velim, sed vel studia, vel curae do- 
 rnesticae impediverant, vel ipsa fortasse ad scribendum 
 pigritia, intermissi officii reum facit. Quod scire cupis, 
 valeo equidem, Deojuvante, ut soleo : ab historia nos- 
 trorum motuum concinnanda,quod bortari videris,longe 
 absum ; sunt enim silentio digniores quam prtEconio: 
 nee nobis qui motuum historiam concinnare, sed qui 
 motus ipsos componere feliciter possit, est opus: tecum 
 enim vereor ne iibertatis ac religionis hostibus nunc 
 nuper sociatis, nimis opportuni inter has nostras civiles 
 discordias vel potius insanias, videamur; verum non 
 illi gravius, quam nosmetipsi jamdiu flagitiis nostris, 
 religioni vulnus intulcrint. Sed Deus, uti spero, prop- 
 ter sc gloriamque suam, quae nunc agitur, consiliaim- 
 petusque hostium ex ipsorum sententia succcdere non 
 sinet, quicquid reges et cardinales turbarum mediten- 
 tur aut struant. Synodo interea protestantium Lao- 
 dunensi, propediem, ut scribis, convocandrc, precor id, 
 quod nulli adhuc synodo contigit, foelicem exitum, non 
 Nazianzenicum ; foelicem autem huic nunc satis futu- 
 rum, si nihil aliud decrcverit, quam cjiciendum esse 
 Morum. De adversario posthumo simul ac prodierit, 
 fac me, rogo, primo quoque tempore certiorem. Vale. 
 
 Westmon. Decemb. 20, 1659. 
 
 Nobili Adolescenti Richardo Jonesio. 
 
 30. Quod longo intervallo ad me scribis, modestis- 
 sime tu quidem te cvcusas, qui possis ejusdem delicti 
 me rectius accusare : ut baud sciam profecto utrum non 
 deliquisse te, an sic excusasse, maluerim. Illud tibi in 
 mentem cave veniat ; me gratitudinem tuam, si qua 
 mihi abs te debetur, literarum assiduitate metiri: tum 
 te gratissimum adversus me esse sensero, cum mea erga 
 te qujE pnedicas merita, non tam in literis crebris, quam 
 in optimis perpetuo studiis tuis ac laudibus apparebunt. 
 Viam virtutis quidem, in illo orbis tcrrarum gymnasio 
 quod es ingressus, recte fecisti ; sed viam scito illam 
 virtutis ac vitii communem ; illuc progrediendum, ubi 
 via in bivium se scindit. Teque sic comparare jam 
 nunc mature debes, ut relicta hac communi, amoena ac 
 florida, illam arduam ac difficilem, qui solius virtutis 
 clivus est, tua sponte libentius, etiam cum labore ac 
 periculo, possis ascendere. Id tu prse aliis multo faci- 
 lius, mibi crede, poteris, qui tam fidum ac pcritum nac- 
 tus es itineris ducem. Vale. 
 
 West. Decemb. 20, 1659. 
 
S42 
 
 EPISTOLiE FAMILIARES. 
 
 Omatissimo Viro Petro Heimbachio, Electoris 
 Brandenburgici Cotuiliario, 
 
 31 . Si inter tot funcra popularium meorum, anno tarn 
 gravi ac pestilenti, abreptum me quoque, ut scribis, ex 
 runiorepnesertinialiquocredidisti,mirum nun est; atquc 
 ille rumor apud vestros, ut videtur, homines, si ex co 
 quod de salute mea soliciti esscnt, increbuit, non dis- 
 plicet ; indicium enim sute crg'a me benevolentice fuisse 
 existinio. Sed Dei benignitate, qui tutum mihi recep- 
 tum in agris pararerat, et vivo adhue et valeo ; utinam 
 ne inutilis, quicquid muneris in bac vita restat mihi 
 peragendum. Tibi vero tam lungo intervallo venisse 
 in mentcm mei, pergratum est; quanquam, prout rem 
 verbis exornas, preebere aliqucm suspicionem videris, 
 ublitum mei te potius esse, qui tot virtutum diversarum 
 c'onjugiuin in me, ut scribis, admirere. Ego certe ex 
 
 tot conjugiis numerosam nimis prolem expavescerera, 
 nisi constaret in re arcta, rebusque duris, virtutes ali 
 niaxirae et vigere : tametsi earum una non ita belle 
 charitatem hospitii mihi reddidit : quam ciiim politicam 
 tu vocas, ego pietatem in patriam dictani abs te mal- 
 lem, ea me pulchro nomine delinitum prope, ut ita di- 
 cani, expatriavit. Reliquarum tamen chorus clare con- 
 cinit. Patria est, ubicunque est bene. Finem faciara, 
 si hoc prius abs te impetravero, ut, si quid mendose de- 
 scriptum aut non interpunctum repereris, id puero, qui 
 hacc excepit, Latine prorsus nescienti velis imputare ; 
 cui singulas plane literulas annumerare non sine misc- 
 ria dictans cogebar. Tua interim viri merita, quem 
 ego adolescenteui spei eximiee cognovi, ad tam hones- 
 turn in principis gratia provexisse te locum, gaudeo, 
 ceeteraque f'austa omnia et cupio tibi, et spero. Vale. 
 Lo7i(lini, Aug. 15. 1666. 
 
JOANNIS MILTONII 
 
 PROLUSIONES QU^DAM ORATORI^E. 
 
 IN COLLEGIO, &c. 
 
 [first prBLUBiD 1674.] 
 
 Utrum Dies an Nox prtestanlior sit P 
 
 ScRiPTUM post se reliquere passim nobilissitni qui- 
 que rlietoricsc magistri, quod uec vos prjeteriit, Acade- 
 mici, in unoqiioque dicendi generc, sive demonstrativo, 
 sive deliberativo, sive jtidiciali, ab aucupanda audito- 
 rum gratia exordium duci oportere ; alioqui nee per- 
 movcri posse auditorum animos, nee causam ex sen- 
 tentia succcdere. Quod si res ita est, quam sane, ne 
 vera dissiniulem, eruditorum omnium consensu fixum 
 ratunique novi, miserum nie! ad quantas ego hodie 
 redactus sum angustias ! qui in ipso orationis limine 
 vereor ne aliquid prolaturus sim minime oratorium, et 
 ab officio oratoris primo et prascipuo necesse habeam 
 abscedere. Etenim qui possim ego vestram sperare be- 
 nevolentiam, cum in hoc tanto concursu, quot oculis 
 intueor tot fcrme aspiciam infesta in me capita; adeo 
 ut orator vcnisse videar ad non exorabiles. Tantum 
 potest ad simultates etiam in scholis temulatio, vel di- 
 versa stadia, vel in eisdem studiis diversa judicia se- 
 quentium; ego vero solicitus non sum, 
 
 Ne mihi Polydamas et TroYades Labeonem prsetulerint ; nugse. 
 
 Veruntamen ne penitus despondeam animum, sparsim 
 video, ui fallor, qni mibi ipso aspectu tacito, quam 
 bene velint, baud obscure significant; a quibus etiam 
 quantumvis paucis, equidem probari malo quam ab 
 innumeris imperitorum centuriis, in quibus nihil men- 
 tis, nihil rectse rationis, nihil sani judicii inest, ebul- 
 lienti quadani et plane ridenda verborum spuma sese 
 venditaiitibus ; a quibus si emendicatos ab novitiis 
 authoribus centones dempseris, Deum immortalem ! 
 quanto nudiores Leberide conspexeris, etexhaustainani 
 vocabulorum et sententiuncularum supellectile, /x>j5i 
 ypi' (pOkyyta^ai, perinde mutos ac ranuncula Seripbia. 
 At 6 quam segre temperaret a risu vel ipse, si in vivis 
 esset, Heraclitus, si forte hosce cerneret, si Diis placet, 
 oratorculos, quos panlo ante audiverit cothurnato Euri- 
 
 pidis Oreste, aut furibundo sub mortem Hercule gran- 
 diora eructantes, exhausto tandem vocularum quarun- 
 dam tenuissimo penu, posito incedere supcrcilio, aut 
 retractis introrsum cornibus, velut animalcula quacdam 
 abrcpere. Sed recipio me paululum digressus. Si 
 quis igitur est qui, spreta pacis conditione, dffirovSov 
 iroXtfiov mihi indixerit, eum ego quidem in praescntia 
 non dedignabor orare et rogare, ut semota paulisper 
 simultate, nequabilis adsit certaminis hujus arbiter; 
 neve oratcfris culpa, si qua est, causam quam optimam 
 et praeclarissimara in invidiam vocet. Quod si nior- 
 daciora paulo haec et aceto perfusa nimio putaveritis, 
 id ipsum de industria fecisse me profiteor : volo enim 
 ut iuitium orationis mete primulum imitetur dilucu- 
 ium ; ex quo subnubilo serenissima fere nascitur dies. 
 Quee an nocte pnestantior sit, baud vulgaris utiquc 
 agitatur controversia, quam quidem mearum nunc est 
 partium, auditores, pensique hujus matutini, accurate 
 et radicitus excutere ; quamvis et haec prolusioni po- 
 eticse, quam decertationi oratoriae, magis videatur ido- 
 nea : at at noctemne dixi cum die struxisse litcs ? 
 Quid hoc rei est ? qusenam hcec molitio ? numnam 
 antiquum Titanesredintegrant helium, Phlegraei proelii 
 instaurantes reliquias ? an terra novam in superos deos 
 enixa est portentosse magnitudinis prolem ? an vero 
 Typhoeus injectam jEtnce montis electatus est molem? 
 an denique, decepto Cerbero, catenis adamantinis sub- 
 duxit se Briareus ? quid est aliquando tandem, quod 
 deos manes ad coelestis imperii spem jam terlio erexe- 
 rit ? adeone contemnendum Jovis fulmen? adeon' pro 
 nibilo putanda Palladis invicta virtus, qua tantam olim 
 inter terrigenas fratres edidit stragem ? exciditne animo 
 iusignis ille per coeli templa Liberi patris ex profliga- 
 tis gigantibus triumphus ? neutiquam sand : meminit 
 ilia probe, nee sine lachrjmis, consternatos plerosque a 
 Jove fratres superstitesque caeteros usque ad penitissi- 
 mos inferorum recessus in fugam actos ; et certe jam 
 nihil minus quam helium adornat trepida, querclam 
 potius et lites instruit, atque pro more mulierum post 
 
844 
 
 PROLUSIONES ORATORIiE. 
 
 rem unfruibus ct pngiiis fortiter gcstam ad colloquium 
 scu verius ad rix.im venit, periclilura, opinor, liii<riiaiie 
 plus an armis valeat. Atrero quam iiiconsulto, quam 
 arrogantcr, quamque dcbiii caustr titulo pnr die suin- 
 mam rcruni ainbiat, expedite festino. Video siquidem 
 et ipsam diem g-alli caiitu cxpergefactam, cursu solito 
 citation adproperasse ad suas laudcs exaudiendas. £t 
 quoniam unusquisqtie hoc imprimis ad lionorcs ct de- 
 cus conferre arbitrator, si ab {rcnerosis natalibus et 
 prisco regum vel deorum sanguine oriundum se coni- 
 pererit. Videndum primo utra genere sit clarior, mox 
 quacnam antiquitatc honoratior ; dcin haec an ilia 
 humanis usibus accommodatius inserviat. Apud ve- 
 tustissimos itaque mjthologiae scriptores memoriae 
 datum repcrio, Demogorgonem deorum omnium ata- 
 Tura (queni cundem et Chaos ab autiquis nuncupatum 
 bariolor) inter alios libcros, quos sustulerat plurimos, 
 Terram genuisse ; hac, inccrto patre, noctem fuisse 
 prognatam ; quanivis paulo aliter Hesiodus earn chao- 
 genitam velit hoc monasticho, 
 
 Hanc, quocunque natam, cum adolererat ad eetatem 
 linptiis maturam, poscit sibi uxorem Phanes pastor; 
 annuente matre, refragatur ilia, negatque se ignoti 
 viri et iiusquam visi, moribusque insuper tam longe 
 diversis concubitum inituram. Repulsam Phanes 
 acgre ferens, verso in odium amorc, nigellam hanc 
 Telluris filiam per omnes orbis terrarum tractus ad 
 ncccm sequitur indignabundus. Ilia vero quern aman- 
 tem sprevit, eum hostem non minus treniit; propterea 
 lie apud ultimas quidem nationes, et disjuncta quam 
 maximc loca, immo ne in ipso sinu parentis satis se 
 tutam rata, ad incestos Erebi fratris amplexus furtim 
 et clanculura se corripit; tiraore simul gravi soluta, 
 maritumque nacta proculdubio sui sirailem. Hoc ita- 
 que tam venusto conjugum pari ^ther et Dies perhi- 
 bentur editi, ut author est idem,cujus supra mentionem 
 fecimus, Hesiodus. 
 
 Nurroff f dvr' aiOripTt rac r/ft'tpa f^yevovro, 
 Ovc Ti KiKvaaa fuvrj ^Epiiiii fiXorriri fityilaa. 
 
 At enim vetant faumaniores musae, ipsa etiam prohibet 
 philosopfaia diis proxima, ne minus poetis deorum figulis, 
 praesertim Grsecanicis, omni ex parte habeamus fidem ; 
 nee quisquam iis hoc probro datum putet, quod in re 
 tanti momenti authores videantur vix satis locupletes. 
 Si quis enim eorum aliquantillum deflexerit a vero, id 
 non tam ingeniis eorum assignandum, quibus nihil 
 divinius, quam pravaeetcaecutienti ejus aetatis ignoran- 
 tiae, qute tunc tempestatis pcrvadebat omnia. Abunde 
 sane laudis bine sibi adcpti sunt, affatim gloriae, quod 
 bumincs in sylvis atque montibus dispalatos belluarum 
 ad instar, in unum compulerint locum, et civitales con- 
 stituerint, quodque omnes disciplinas quotquot hodie 
 traduntur, lepidis fabellarum involucris obvestitas plcni 
 Deo primi docaerint ; eritqne hoc solum iisdem ad as- 
 scquendam nominis immortal itatem non ignobile sane 
 subsidium, quod artium scientiam felicitcr incboatam 
 postcris absolvendam reliquerint. 
 
 Noli igitur, quisquis es, arroganticc me temere dam- 
 nare, quasi ego jam veterum omnium poetarum decreta, 
 nulla nixus authoritatc, perfregerim aut inimutaverim ; | 
 neque enim id milii sumo, sed ea tantunimodo ad nor- ' 
 mam ratinnis revocare conor, exploraturus hoc pacto 
 niim rigidic possint veritalis examen pati. Quocirca 
 primo noctem Tellure ortam erudite quidem eteleganter 
 fabulata est antiquitas ; quid enim aliud mundo noctem 
 obducit quam densa et imporvia terra, soils lumini 
 nostroque horizonti interposita ? quod cam deinde nunc 
 patrimam, fuisse ncgant mythologi, nunc matrimam, 
 id quoque festiviter fictum ; inde siquidem recte colli- 
 gitur spuriam fuisse aut subdititiam, aut dcmum pa- 
 rentes prolem tam famosam et illiberalem prae pudore 
 non agnovisse. At vero cur existimarent Pbanetcm 
 ilium mirifica supra modum humanum facie, noctem 
 iEthiopissam et monogrammam etiam in matrimonium 
 adamasse, arduura impense negotium videtur b vestigio 
 divinare, nisi quod foeminarum insignis admodum id 
 temporis paucitas delectum suppeditaret nullum. Atqui 
 presse agamus et cominus. Phanetem interpretantur 
 vctercs solem sive diem ; qucm dum commemorant 
 noctis conjugium primo pctiisse, deinde in ultionem 
 spreti connubii insecutum, nihil aliud quam dierum et 
 noctium vices ostendere volunt. Ad hoc autcm quid 
 opus erat introduxisse Phanetem noctis nuptias nmbi- 
 entem, cum perpetua ilia eorum successio et mutuns 
 quasi impulsns innato et eeterno odio melius adsignifi- 
 cetur; quippe constat sudum et tenebras ab ipso rerum 
 principio acerrimis inter se dissedisse inimicitiis. At- 
 que ego sane noctem crtdo, tixppovrjQ cognomen hinc 
 solum accepisse, quod Phanetis connubio permiscere se 
 caute recusarit, nee non cogitate ; etenim si ilium 
 semel in suos admisisset thalamos, extra dubium radiis 
 ejus et impatibili fulgore absumpta vel in nihilum in- 
 teriisset, vel penitus conflagrasset, sicuti olim invito 
 Jove Amasio arsisse fcrunt Semelem. Quapropter 
 huic, non improvida salutis suae, Erebum preetulit. 
 Unde scitum illud Martialis et perurbanum. 
 
 Uxor pessima, pessimus maritus, 
 Non miror bene convenire vobis. 
 
 Nee tacendum existimo, quam formosa ct se digna 
 virum auxerit prole, nimirum serumna, invidia, timore, 
 dolo, fraude, pertinacia, paupertate, miseria, fame, 
 querela, morbo, seuectute, pallore, caligine, somno, 
 morte, Charonte, qui ultimo natus est partu ; adeo ut 
 hie apprime quadret quod in proverbii consuetudineni 
 venit, KUKov KopoKor kukop ubv. Ca'terum nee desunt qui 
 etiam aetlierem et diem itidem Erebo suo Noctem pepe- 
 risse tradunt. At enim quotusquisque est, non impos 
 mentis, qui sic philosophantem non explodat ac rojiciat 
 tanquam democritica commenta aut nutricularum 
 fabulas proferentem .•* Ecquam enim vcri speciem prte 
 se fert, posse obscuram et fuscam noctem tam venus- 
 tuluni, tam amabilem, tam omnibus gratum acceptum- 
 que reddere partum ? Qui etiam ut primum conccptus 
 esset, prjematuro impctu erumpcns utro niatrem cne- 
 casset, ipsumque Erebum patreni abegisset protinus, 
 vetulumque cocgisset Charontem, ut sub imo Stygc 
 nocturnos abderct oculos, et si qua sub inferis lati- 
 
PROLUSIONES ORATORIiE. 
 
 845 
 
 bula sunt, ut eo se remigio et velis reciperet. Nee 
 solum apud Orcura non est natus dies, sed ne unquain 
 quidem ibi comparuit; neque potest illuc nisi f'atorum 
 ingratiis vol per ii.inimam introniitti rimulam ; quid ! 
 quod etiam diera nocte autiquiorem audeo dicere, eara- 
 que niundura recens emersum e Cbao diflTuso lumine 
 collustrasse, priusquani nox suas egisset vices ; nisi 
 crassam illam et immundam caliginem noctem vel ipsi 
 Demogorgoni equtevam velimus perperam uominare. 
 Ideoque diem Urani filiam natu maximam arbitror, vel 
 filii potius dixeris, quern ille in solatium humante gen- 
 tis et terrorem inf'ernalium deorum procreasse dicitur; 
 ne scilicet, occupante tjrannidem nocte, nulloque inter 
 terras et Tartara discrimine posito, manes et furire at- 
 que omne illud infame monstrorum genus ad terras 
 usque, deserta Barathri sede, scproreperent, misellique 
 homines densis obvoluti umbris, et quaquaversum oc- 
 clusi, defunctarum animarum pcenas etiam vivi experi- 
 rentur. Hactenus, acadcmici, obscuram noctis propa- 
 ginem atris et profundissimis eruimus tenebris; habe- 
 bitis ilicet ut se dignam proebuerit natalibus suis, sed si 
 prius diei laudibus impcnsam dederim opellam mcam, 
 quamvis et ilia sane omnium laudatorum eloqucntiam 
 anteeat. Et certe primo quam omnium animantium 
 stirpi grata sit et desiderabilis, quid opcre est vobis ex- 
 ponere; cum vel ipsae volucres nequeant suuni celare 
 gaudium, quin egresste nidulis, ubi primum dihicula- 
 vit, aut in verticibus arborum concentu suavissimo dc- 
 liniant omnia, aut sursum librantes se, et quam possunt 
 prope Solem volitent, redeunti gratulaturoB luci. At 
 primus omnium adventantem Solem triumpbat insom- 
 uis gallus, et quasi prceco quivis, monere videtur ho- 
 mines, ut excusso somno prodeant, atque obviam 
 effundant se novam salutatum Auroram : tripudiant in 
 agris capellce, totumquc genus quadrupedum gcstit et 
 exultat !%titia. Quinetiam et mcesta Clysie totam 
 fere noctem, converse in Oricntcm vultu, Phtebum 
 preestolata suum, jam arridct et adblanditur appropiu- 
 quanti amatori. Caltha quoque et Rosa, ne nihil ad- 
 dant communi gaudio, apcrientes sinum, odores suos 
 Soli tantum servatos profuse spirant, quibus noctem 
 dedignantur impertiri, claudentes se folliculis suis si- 
 mulatque vesper appetat ; caetcrique flores inclinata 
 paulum, et rore languidula erigentes capita quasi prae- 
 bent se Soli, et tacite rogant ut suis osculis abstergat 
 lacrymulas, quas ejus absentite dederant. Ipsa quoque 
 Tellus in adventum SoHs cultiori se induit vestitu, nu- 
 besque juxta variis cblamydatae coloribus, pompa so- 
 lenni, longoque ordine videntur ancillari surgenti dco. 
 Ad sunimam, nequid deessct ad ejus dilatandas laudes, 
 huic PcrsoB, huic Libjes, divinos honores decrevere; 
 Rbodienses pariter celeberrimum ilium stupendte mag- 
 uitudinis colossum, Charetis Lyndii miro extructum ar- 
 tificio, huic sacrarunt; huic itidem hodie Occidentalis 
 Indite populi thure csEteroque apparatu sacrificare ac- 
 cepimus. Vos testor, academici, quam jucundum, 
 quam optatum diuque expectatum vobis illucescat 
 mane, utpote quod vos ad mansuetiores niusas revocet, 
 k quibus insaturabiles et sitibundos dimiserat ingrata 
 Nox. Testor ultimo Saturnum coelo deturbatum in 
 Tartara, quam lubens vellet, si raodo per Jovem licerct, 
 
 ab exosis tenebris ad auras reverti; quod demum lux 
 vel ipsi Plutoni sua caligine louge sit potior, id quidem 
 in coufesso est, quando coeleste regnum toties affecta- 
 vit, uude scite et verissime Orpheus iu hymno ad Au- 
 roram : 
 
 "H xa'ipn OvtjTiov fitpoiruv yevoc oiSk riQ iTiVf 
 'Of ((ttiiyii rrjv arjv o\piv KaSvirkpripoi', ovaav 
 'Hi/iifa, Tov yXvKvv virvov ano p\i(pdpii)v dnoertiaric. 
 tlaQ H PpoTog yi)^(i, irav ipirtTov, dWdre <pv\a 
 TirpaiToSoJv, irrj/vwj/rE, ical tvvaXiwv iroXviOviov. 
 
 Nee minim utique cum Dies non minus utilitatis ad- 
 ferat quam delectationis, et sola negotiis obeundis ac- 
 commodata sit ; quis enim mortalium lata et immensa 
 maria trajicere sustineret, si desperaret affuturum diem ; 
 immo non alitcr oceanum navigarent quam Lethen et 
 Acherontem manes, horrendis nimirum undiquaque 
 tenebris obsiti. Unusquisque etiam in suo se contineret 
 gurgustio, baud unquam ausus foras prorepere; adeo 
 ut necesse esset dissui statim humanam societatem. 
 Fnistra Venerem exeuntem ^ mari inchoasset Apelles ; 
 frustra Zeuxis Halenam pinxisset, si Nox caeca et ob- 
 nubilarestam visendasoculisnostrisadiraeret; tum quo- 
 que frustra tellus serpentes multiplici et erratico lapsu 
 vites, frustra dccentissimas proceritatis arbores profun- 
 dcret, incassum denique gemmis et floribus tanquam 
 stellulis intcrpoliret se, ctelum exprimere conata; tum 
 demum nobilissimus ille videndi sensus nullis animali- 
 bus Usui foret ; ita prorsus, extincto mundi oculo, de- 
 florcsccrent omnia et penitus emorerentur; nee sane 
 huic cladi diu superessent ipsi homines, qui tenebrico- 
 sam incolerent terram, cum nihil suppeteret unde vic- 
 titarent, nihil denique obstaret, quominus in antiquum 
 chaos ruerent omnia. Hisce quidem possit quispiam 
 inexhausto stylo plura adjicere ; verum non permitteret 
 ipsa verecunda Dies ut singula persequatur, et proclivi 
 cursu ad occasum pruecipitans, nullo modo pateretur im- 
 modice laudantem. Jam igitur declinat in vesperam 
 dies, et nocti statim cedet, ne adulta hieme solstitialem 
 contigisse diem facete dicatis. Tantum pace vestra 
 liceat adjungere pauca quae non possum commode proe- 
 terire. Meritu igitur poette Noctem inferis exsurgere 
 scriptitarunt ; cum impossibile plane sit aliunde tot 
 tantaque mala nisi ex eo loco mortalibus invehi. Obor- 
 ta enim nocte sordescunt et obfuscantur omnia, nee 
 quicquam tunc profecto interest inter Helenam et Ca- 
 nidiam, nihil inter pretiosissimos et viles lapillos, nisi 
 quod gemmarum nonnullre etiam noctis obscuritatem 
 vincant : hue accedit, quod amoenissima quoeque loca 
 tunc quidem horrorem incutiant, qui etiam alto et tristi 
 quodam augetur silentio; siquidem quicquid uspiam est 
 in agris, aut hominum aut ferarum, vel domum, vel ad 
 antra raptira se conferunt; ubi stratis immersi ad as- 
 pectus noctis terribiles claudunt oculos. Nullum foris 
 conspicies praeterquam fures et laverniones lucifugos, 
 qui ccedem anhelantes et rapinas, insidiaiitur bonis ci- 
 vium, et noctu solum vagantur, ne detegantur interdiu; 
 quippe dies nullum non indagare solet nefas, baud 
 passura lucem suam istiusmodi flagitiis inquinari ; nul- 
 lum habebis obvium nisi lemures et larvas, et empusas 
 
846 
 
 PROLUSIONES ORATORIiE. 
 
 quas secum Nox coiiiiles e locis asportat subterrancis, 
 queeque tola nocte terras in sua dilioiie esse, sibique 
 cum bominibus communes vendicant. Ideoquc opinor 
 noctem auditum nostrum reddidisse solertiorem, ut um- 
 branim g-emitus, bubonum et stygum ululatus, ac ru- 
 gitus leonum, quos fames evocat; eo citius perstringe- 
 rent aures, animosque ; {jraviori metu percellerent. 
 Hinc liqnido constat, quam sit ille f&hus aninii qui 
 noctu bomines a timore otiosos esse, Noctemque curas 
 sopire omnes autumat; namque banc vanam esse ct 
 nugatoriam opinionera infcclici noruut experientia, qui- 
 cunque sceleris cujuspiam conscii sibi fucre ; quos tunc 
 sphinges et harpyite, quos tunc gorgones et chimaerse 
 intentatis facibus insequuntur ; norunt miseri, qui cum 
 nullus adsit qui subveniat iis et opitulctur, nullus qui 
 dulcibus alloquiis dolores leniat, ad bruta saxa irritas 
 jaciunt querelas, subinde exoptantes oriturum dilucu- 
 lum. Idcirco Ovidius poetarum elegantissiaius Noc- 
 tem jure optimo curarum maxiniam nutrieem appella- 
 ▼it. Quod autem eo potissimum tempore fracta et de- 
 fatigata labor! bus diuniis corpora recrecmus somno et 
 refocillemus, id nuiuinisbeneficium est non uoctis mu- 
 nus; sed esto, non est tanti somnus ut ejus ergo noc- 
 tem in honore babcamus, enimvero cum proficiscimur 
 dormitum, revera tacite fatemur nos inibellcs et miseros 
 homines, qui minuta h(ec corpusciila ne ad exiguum 
 tempus sine requie sustentare valeamus. Et certc quid 
 aliud est somnus quam mortis imago et simulachrum ? 
 hinc Homero mors et somnus gemelli sunt, uno gene- 
 rati conceptu, uno partu editi. Postrenio, quod luna 
 caeteraquc sidera nocti suas prueferant faces, id quoque 
 soli dcbetur; neque enim habent ilia quod transfundant 
 lumen nisi quod ab illo accipiant mutuum. Quis igitur, 
 si non tenebrio, si non effractor, si non aleator, si non 
 inter scortorum greges noctem pernoctare perpetem 
 integrosquc dies ronchos efflare solitus, quis inquam nisi 
 talis tarn inhnnestam, tamque invidiosam causam in se 
 susceperitdefendendam? Atquedemirorego utaspicere 
 audeat solcm hunc, et etiam cum communi luce impune 
 frui, quam ingratus vituperat, dignus profecto quern 
 adversis radioruni ictibus veluti Pythonem novum in- 
 terimat sol ; dignus qui Cimmeriis occlusus tenebris 
 longam et perosam vitam transigat; dignus denique 
 cujus oratio somnum nioveat auditoribus, ita ut quic- 
 quid dixcrit non majorem somnio quovis fidem faciat; 
 quique ipse etiam somnolentus, nutantes atque sterten- 
 tes auditores annuere sibi et plaudere peroranti decep- 
 tus putet. Sed nigra video noctis supcrcilia, et sentio 
 atras insurgere tenebras; recedendum est, ne me nox im- 
 provisum oppriniat. Vos igitur, auditores, posteaquam 
 nox nihil aliud sit quam obilus, et quasi mors dici, nolite 
 committere ut mors vitee preeponatur ; sed causam dig- 
 nemini nieam vestris ornarc suffragiis, ita studia vestra 
 fortuuent musae ; exaudiatque Aurora musis amica, 
 exaudiat et Phccbus qui cuncta videt auditque, quos 
 habeat in hoc coetu laudis ejus fautores. Dixi. 
 
 IN SCHOLIS PUBLICIS. 
 
 De Sphararum Conceiilu. 
 
 Si quis meae tenuitati locus Academic!, post tot hodie, 
 tantosque exauditus oratores, conabor etiam ego jam 
 pro meo modulo expriniere, quam bene velim solenni 
 bujus lucis celebritati, et tanquam procul sequar hodi- 
 ernum hunc cloqucntiue triumphuni. Dum itaque trit.a 
 ilia, et pervulgata dicendi argumenta refugio penitus, 
 et refurmido, ad novam aliquam' materiem ardue ten- 
 tandam accendit animum, et statim crigit bujus diei 
 cogitatio, horumque simul quos digna die loquuturos 
 baud injuria suspicabar ; quic duo vel tardo cuivis, et 
 obtuso ca,'teroquin ingenio stimulos, aut acumen aildi- 
 disse poterant. Hinc idcirco subiit paucasaltem super 
 illo ccelesti concentu, dilatata (quod aiunt) manu, et 
 ubertate oratoria proefari, de quo mox quasi contracto 
 pugno disceptandum est; habita tamen ratione tempo- 
 ris, quod me jam urget et coarctat. HtEC tamen per- 
 inde accipiatis velim auditores, quasi per lusum dicta. 
 Quis enim sanusexistimaverit Pythagoram deum ilium 
 philosophorum, cujus ad nomen omnes ejus saeculi 
 raortales non sine persancta veneratione assurgebant, 
 quis, inquam, eum existimaverit tarn lubrice fundatam 
 opinionem unquani protulisse in medium. Sane si 
 quam ille sphaerarum docuit harmoniam, et circumac- 
 tos ad modulaminis dulcedinem coelos, per id sapienter 
 innuere voluit, amicissimos orbium complexus, aequa- 
 bilesque in eternum ad fixam fati legem conversiones; 
 in hoc certe vel poetas, vel quod idem pene est, divina 
 imitatus oracula, a quibus nihil sacri recondilique 
 mysterii exhibetur in vulgus, nisi aliquo involutum 
 tegumento et vcstitu. Hunc secutus est ille Naturse 
 Matris optinius interpres Plato, dum singulis coclis 
 orbibus Sirenas quasdam insidere tradidit, qute melli- 
 tissimo cantu deos bominesque niirabundos capiant. 
 Atque banc deinque conspirationem rerum universam, 
 et consensura amabilem, quem Pythagoras per harmo- 
 niam poelico ritu subinduxit, Homerus etiam per 
 auream illam Jovis catenani de cceIo suspensam insig- 
 niter appositeque adumbravit. Hinc autem Aristo- 
 teles, Pythagorae, et Platonis semulus et perpetuus 
 calumniator, ex labefactatis tantorum virorum senten- 
 tiis viam sternere ad gloriani cupiens, inauditam banc 
 coclorum symj)honiam, sphterarumque modulos afHnxit 
 Pythagor*. Quod si sic tulisset sive futuni, sive sors, 
 ut tua in me, Pylhagora pater, transvohisset anima, 
 baud utique deesset qui te facile assererct, quantumvis 
 gravi janidiu laborantem infamia. At vero quidni 
 corpora cadestia, inter perennes illos circuitus, niusicos 
 efficiant sonos? Annon a-quumtihi videtur Aristotcles.'' 
 nae ego vix crcdam intelligentias tiias sedentarium 
 ilium rotandi ca?li laborcm potuisse tot saeculisperpeti, 
 nisi ineffabile iliud astrorum mclosdetinuissetabituras, 
 et modulationes delinimento suasisset moram. Quam 
 si tu coelo adimas sane mcntes illas pulchellas, ct mi- 
 nislros dcos plane in pistrinum dcdis, et ad molas tru- 
 
PROLUSIONES ORATORIiE. 
 
 847 
 
 satiles damnas. Quinetiam ipse Atlas ruituro statim 
 coelo jampridem subduxisset humeros, nisi dulcis ilia 
 coucentus anhelantem, et tanto sub onere sudabunduin 
 Icetissima voluptate permulsisset. Ad haec, pertoesus 
 astra Delphinus jamdiu coelo sua praeoptasset maria, 
 nisi probe calluisset, vocales coeli orbes Ijrani Arioniani 
 suavitate longe superare. Quid ! quod credibile est 
 ipsam alaudam prima luce recta in nubes evolare, et 
 Lusciniam totam noctis solitudinem cantu transigere, 
 ut ad harnionicam cocli rationem, quam attente auscul- 
 tant, suos corrig-ant modiilos, Hinc quoque musarum 
 circa Jovis altaria dies noctcsque saltantium ab ultima 
 rerum origine increbuit fabula ; hinc Phnpbo lyrae 
 peritia ab lonorinqua vetustate attrihuta est. Hinc 
 Harmoniam Jovis et Electrae fuisse filiam reverenda 
 credidit antiquitas, quae cum Cadmo nuptui data 
 esset, totus coeli chorus concinuisse dicitur. Quid si 
 nullus unquam in terris audiverit banc astrorum sym- 
 phoniam ? Ergone omnia supra lunre sphirram muta 
 prorsus erunt, torpidoque silentio consopita ? Quinirao 
 aures nostras incusemus debiles, qure cantus et tam 
 dulces sonos excipere aut non possunt, aut non dijjnae 
 sunt. Sed nee plane inaudita est hoec cocli melodia ; 
 quis enim tuas Aristoteles in media ceris plaga tri- 
 pudiantcs capras putaverit, nisi quod prtecinentes 
 ccelos ob vicinitatem clare cum audiant, non possint 
 sibi tempcrare quo minus agant choreas. At solus in- 
 ter mortales concentum hunc audisse fertur Pythago- 
 ras; nisi et ille bonus quispiam genius, et coeli indi- 
 gena fuerit, qui forte superum jussu delapsus est ad 
 animos hominum sacra crudit'onc imbuendos, et ad 
 bonam frugcm revocandos : ad minimum certe vir erat, 
 qui omnes virtutum numcros in se continebat, quique 
 dignus erat cum diis ipsis sui similibus sermones mis- 
 cere, et coelestium perfrui consortio: ideoque nihil 
 miror, si dii ejus amantissimi abditissimis eum naturte 
 secretis interesse permiserint. Quod autem nos banc 
 minime audiamus harmoniam sane in causa videtur 
 esse furacis Promethei audacia, quae tot mala homini- 
 bus invexit, et simul banc foelicitatem nobis abstulit 
 qua nee unquam frui licebit, dum sceleribus cooperti 
 belluinis cupiditatibus obrutescimus ; qui enim possu- 
 mus coelestis illius soni capaces fieri, quorum animae 
 (quod ait Persius) in terras curvtE sunt, et coelestium 
 prorsus inancs. At si pura, si casta, si nivea gestare- 
 mus pectora, ut olim Pythagoras, tum quidem suavis- 
 sima ilia stellarum circuraeuntium musica personarent 
 aures nostroe, et opplercntur; atque dein cuncta illico 
 tanquam in aureum illud soeculum redirent; nosque 
 tum demum miseriarum immunes, beatum et vel diis 
 invidendum degeremus otium. Hie autem me veluti 
 medio in itinere tempus intersecat, idque persane op- 
 portune vereor enim ne incondito roiuimeque numeroso 
 stylo, huic quam pnedico harmoniac, toto hoc tempore 
 obstrepuerim; fuerimque ipse impedimento, quo minus 
 illam audiveritis : Itaque Dixi. 
 
 IN SCHOLIS PUBLICIS. 
 
 Contra Philosophiam Scholasticam. 
 
 Qu^REBAM nuper obnixe, academici, nee in postre- 
 mis hoc mihi curse erat quo potissimum verborum ap- 
 paratu vos auditores raeos exciperera, cum subito mihi 
 in mentem venit id quod Marcus TuUius (a quo, non 
 sine fausto omine exorditur oratio mea) toties commisit 
 Uteris ; in hoc scilicet partes rhetoris sitas esse, ac po- 
 sitas, ut doceat, delectet, et dcnique permoveat. Pro- 
 inde istuc mihi tantummodo proposui negotium, ut ab 
 hoc triplici oratoris niunere quam minime discedam. 
 At quoniam docere vos consummatos undique homines 
 non est quod ego mihi sumam, nee quod vos sustincatis, 
 liceat saltern (quod proximum est) monere aliquid for- 
 tasse non omnino abs re futurum ; delectare interim, 
 quod sane perquam vereor, ut sit cxilitatis meac, erit 
 tamen desiderii summa, quam si attigero, certe parum 
 erit, quin et permoveam. Permovebo autem in proesens 
 abunde, ex animi sententia, si vos auditores inducere 
 potero, ut immania ilia, et prope monstrosa subtilium, 
 quod aiunt, doctorum volumina rariori manu evolvatis, 
 utque verrucosis sophistarum controversiis paulo re- 
 missius indulgcatis. At vero ut palam fiat omnibus 
 quam sit tequum atque honestum quod suadco, strictim 
 ostondam, et pro mea semihorula hisce studiis nee ob- 
 lectari animum, nee erudiri, nee denique commune 
 bonum quicquam promoveri. Et certe in primis ad 
 vos provoco, academici, si qua fieri potest ex mea vestri 
 ingenii conjectura, quid, quceso, voluptatis inesse potest 
 in festivis hisce tetricorura senum altercationibus, quae 
 si non in Trophonii antro, certe in Monachorum spe- 
 cubus natte olent, atque spirant scriptorum suorum 
 torvam severitafem, et paternas rugas prae se ferunt, 
 quaeque inter succinctam brevitatem plus nimio prolixae 
 toedium creant, et nauseam ; at si quando productiores 
 leguntur, tum quidem aversationem pene naturalem,et 
 si quid ultra est innati odii pariunt lectoribus. Seepius 
 eg"o, auditores, cum mihi forte aliquoties imponeretur 
 necessitas investigandi paulisper has argutiolas post 
 retusam diutina lectione et animi et oculorum aciem, 
 seepius inquam ad interspirandum restiti, et subinde 
 pensum oculis emensus quoesivi miserum teedii solati- 
 um ; cum vero plus semper viderem superesse, quam 
 quod legendo absolveram, equidem inculcatis hisce 
 ineptis quoties prseoptavi mihi repurgandum Augese 
 bubile, foelicemque praedicavi Herculem, cui facilis 
 Junohujusmodi serumnam nunquam imperaveratexan- 
 tlandam. Nee materiam banc enervem, languidam, et 
 humi serpentem erigit, aut attollit floridior stylus, sed 
 jejunus et exsuccus rei tenuitatem adeo conjunctissime 
 comitatur, ut ego utique facile crediderim sub tristi 
 Saturno scriptam fuisse, nisi quod innocua tunc tem- 
 poris simplicitas ignoraret prorsus ofTucias istas, et di- 
 verticula, quorum hi libri scatent ubique. Mihi credite, 
 juvenes ornatissimi, dum ego inanes hasce queestiun- 
 culas noununquam invitus percurro, videor mihi per 
 
UAA 
 
 PROLUSIONES ORATORIiE. 
 
 confrai^osa tcsqua, et salebras, perque vastas solitudincs, 
 et pncruptas montium aiig'ustias iter conficerc; prop- 
 terea nee vcrisimile est vcnustulas, et eleg'antes niusas 
 pannosis liisce ct squalidis prtpesse studiis, aut dcliros 
 borum scctatores in suum rendicare patrocinium ; im- 
 mo extstinto nullum unquam fuisse iis in Parnasso 
 locum, nisi aliquem forte in inio culle angulum incul- 
 tum, inamcenum, dumis et spinis asperum, atquc liorri- 
 dum, carduis, et densa urtica coopcrtum, a choro et 
 frequentiadearum remotissimum,qui nccemittat lauros 
 nee fundat (lores, quo denique Phcebeas citliarae nun- 
 quani perrenerit sonus. Divina ccrte poesis ea, qua 
 ccelitus impcrtita est, virtute obrutam terrena fa?cc 
 animam in sublime exuscitans, inter cocli templa locat, 
 et quasi nectareo halitu afBans, totamque perfundens 
 ambrosia, coclestemquodammodoinstillatbcatitudincni, 
 etquoddam immurtale g^audiuni insusurrat. Rlictorica 
 sic animos capit hominum, adeoque suaviter in vincula 
 pellectos post se trahit, ut nunc ad misericordiam per- 
 movere valeat, nunc in odium rapere, nunc ad virtutem 
 bellicam accendere, nunc ad conteniptum mortis eve- 
 here. Historia pulcbre conciiinata nunc inquietos 
 animi tumultus sedat et componit, nunc delibutum 
 gaudio reddit, mox evocat lachrymas, sed mites eas et 
 pacatas, et quse mcEst»5 nescio quid voluptatis secum 
 afferant. At vero futiles hae, nee non strigosse contro- 
 versiae, verborumque velitationes, in commovendis ani- 
 mi afTcctibus, certe nullum faabent imperium ; stuporem 
 duntaxat ct torpedinem accersunt ingenio ; proinde 
 neminem oblectant, nisi qui agrestis, et hirsuti plane 
 pectoris est, quique ex arcano quodam irapetu ad lites 
 et dissidia proclivis, et insuper impendioloquax a recta 
 et sana sapicntia abhorret semper atque avertitur. 
 Amandctur itaque cum suis captiunculis sane, vel in 
 monteni Caucasum, aut sicubi terrarum cteca domina- 
 tur barbaries, ibique subtilitatum suarum et prsestigia- 
 rium ponat officinam, et pro libitu de rebus nihili tor- 
 queat et angat se, usque dum nimia solicitudo, veluti 
 Prometbeus ille Tultur cor cxederit, penitusque ab- 
 Bumpserit. Sed nee minus infrugifera sunt, quam iu- 
 -'ucunda lioec studia, et qune ad rerum cognitionem 
 nihil prorsus adjutant. Ponamus enim ob oculos 
 omnes illos turmatim cucullatos vetulos, harum prae- 
 cipue captionum figulos, quotusquisque est qui ullo 
 beneficio locupletavcrit rem literariara? Citra dubium 
 profecto cultam ct nitidam, ct mansuetiorem philoso- 
 pbiam aspcritate impexa deforniem pene reddidit, et 
 veluti malus genius, bumana pectora spinis et sentibus 
 implevit, ct perpctuam in scholas intulit discordiam, 
 quae quidem foelices discentium progressus mirum in 
 modum remorata est. Quid enim ? ultro citroque ar- 
 gutantur versipelles philosopbastri ? hie suam undi- 
 que sententiam graviter firmat, ille contra magna 
 mole labefactare adnititur, et quod iuexpugnabili ar- 
 gumento munitum existimes, id sratim adversarius baud 
 multo ncgotio amolitur. Haeret interea lector, tanquam 
 in bivio, quo dirertat, quo inclinet anccps, ct incertus 
 consilii, dum tot utrinque confcrtim vibrantur tela, ut 
 ipsam lucem adimant, rebusqne profundam aflTerant 
 caligiuem, adco ut jam lectori tandem opus sit, ut diutur- 
 no» Cereris imitatus labores, per universum terrarum or- 
 
 bem accensa face qua?rat veritatcm, et nusquam inreni- 
 at: eo usque dcmum insanite redactus est, ut se misere 
 ctECutireputet, ubi nihil est, quod videat. Ad liaec non 
 rarenter usu venit, ut, qui barum disputationum fuligini 
 addicunt se totos et devovent, si forte aliud quidvis ag- 
 grediantur a suis deliramentis alienum, mire prodant in- 
 scitiam suam, et deridiculam infantiam. Novissime, 
 sunimus hie tam serio navatac opcrte fructus crit, ut stul- 
 tus evadas accuratior, et nugarum artifex, utque tibi ac- 
 ccdat quasi peritior ignorantia, nee mirum; quandoqui- 
 dcni hpec omnia, de quibus adco afilictim et anxie labo- 
 ratum est, in natura rcrum nullibi cxistunt, sed levcs 
 qua-dam imagines, ct simulachra tcnuia turbidas ober- 
 rant mentes, et rectioris sapienta; vacuas. Ceetcrum ad 
 integritatem vita?, et mores excolendos (quod multo 
 maximum est) quam minime conducant hae nugae, 
 ctiamsi ego taceam, abunde vobis perspicuum est. At- 
 que vcl bine liquido evincitur quod mibi postremo di- 
 cendum proposui, scilicet importuiiam banc \o•/o|^axiav 
 nee in publicum cedere coramodum, ncc ullo modu pa- 
 triae vel honori esse, vel utilitati, quod tamen in sci- 
 entiis omnes antiquissimum esse ducunt. Siquidem 
 his maxime duobus auctam atque exornatam prte- 
 cipue patriam animadvert! ; vcl prteclare dicendo, vel 
 fortiter agendo ; atque litigiosa baec discrcpantium 
 opinionum digladiatio, ncc ad eloquentiam instruere, 
 ncc ad prudentiam instituerc, ncc ad fortia facinora in- 
 citare posse videtur. Abeant igitur cum suis formali- 
 tatibus argutatorcs vcrsuti ; quibus post obitum banc 
 par erit irrogari pcenam, ut cum Ocno illo apud inferos 
 torqueant funiculos. At quanto satius esset, academici, 
 quantoque dignius vestro nomine nunc descriptas char- 
 tula terras uuiversas quasi oculis perambulare, et calcata 
 vetustis beroibus inspcctare loca, bellis, triumpbis, et 
 etiam illustrium poetarum fabulis nobilitatas regiones 
 percurrere, nunc aestuantera Iransmittere Adriam, nunc 
 ad ..Etnam flammigerantcni impune accedcre, dein 
 mores hominum speculari,et ordinatas pulcbre gentium 
 respublicas ; hiuc omnium auimantium naturas perse- 
 qui, et explorare, ab bis in arcanas lapidum ct berba- 
 rum vires animum demittere. Xec dubitetis, audilores, 
 etiam in ccelos evolarc, ibique illamultiformia nubium 
 spectra, nivisque coacervatam vim, et unde illae matu- 
 tinae lachrj'mae contemplemiui, grandinisque exinde 
 loculos introspicitc, et armamenta fulminum perscrute- 
 mini ; ncc vos clam sit quid sibi velit aut Jupiter aut 
 Natura, cum dirus atque ingens comcta coelo saepe rai- 
 nitatiir incendium, nee vos vel minutissimee latcant 
 stcllulte, quotquot inter polos utrosque sparsie sunt, et 
 dispalatcc; immo solera peregrinantem sequamini co- 
 mites, ct ipsum tempus ad calculos vocate, ieternique 
 ejus itineris exigite rationem. Sed nee iisdem, quibus 
 orbis, limitibus contineri ct eircumscribi se patiatur 
 vestra mens, sed etiam extra mundi pomoeria divage- 
 tur; pcrdiscatque ultimo (quod adhuc altissimum est) 
 scipsam cognoscere, simulquc sanctas illas mentes, et 
 intelligentias quibuscum post baec sempiternum initura 
 est sodalitium. Quid multa nimis? vobis ad ha^c omnia 
 disciplince sit ille, qui tantopere in dcliciis est, Aristo> 
 teles, qui quidem haec prope cuncta scienter et conqui- 
 site scripta nobis reliquit addiscenda. Cujus ego ad 
 
PROLUSIONES ORATORIO. 
 
 849 
 
 iiomen jam subito pcrmoveri sentio vos, acadeinici, at- 
 que in banc sculentiam duci pedetcntiin, et quasi co 
 invitante proclivius ferri. Quod si ita sit, sane ejus 
 rei laudcm, cujusqueniodi est, illi debebilis et g^ratiam : 
 quod interim ad nie attinet, eg'o certe satis liabeo, si 
 veniain prolixitatis niese pro vestra bumanitate impe- 
 travcro. Dixi. 
 
 IN COLLEGIO, &c. 
 
 THESIS. 
 
 In rei nijuslibet interitu non datur resolutio ad 
 materiam primam. 
 
 Error an ii Pandorte pixide, an ex penitissimo eru- 
 perit Styge, an dcniquc uuus ex Terrte filiis in ccelites 
 conjuraverit, non est hujus loci accuratius disquirere. 
 Hoc autem vel non scrutanti facile innotescat, eum ex 
 infimis incrementis, veluti olim Typbon, aut Neptuno 
 g'cnitus Epbiultcs in tarn portentosam crevisse niagni- 
 tudineni, ut ipsi quidem veritati ab illo metuam. Vi- 
 deo enim cum ipsa diva aA»j5tia baud raro eequo marte 
 pu|^nantcni, video post damna factum ditiorem, post 
 vuluera viresccntem, victumque victoribus exultanteni. 
 Quod de Autteo Lybico fabulata est antiquitas. Adeo 
 ut bine sane non levi de causa carmen istud Ovidianum 
 possit quispiam in dubiuni vocare, an scilicet ultima 
 coelcstum terras reliquerit Astroea ; vcreor etenim nc 
 pax et Veritas multis post earn saeculis invisos etiam 
 mortales deseruerint. Nam certe si ilia adbuc iu terris 
 diversaretur, quis inducatur ut credat, luscum et ccecu- 
 tientem errorem veritatcm solis a^mulam posse intueri, 
 quin plane vincatur oculorum acics, quin et ipse rursus 
 abigaturad inferos, unde primum emersus est? Atvero 
 citra dubium aufugit in ccvlura, patriara suam misellis 
 bomiuibus nunquam rcditura ; et jam totis in scholis 
 dominalur immundus error, et quasi rerum potitus est, 
 non in strenuos utique et non paucos nactus assertores. 
 Qnaruni accessione virium, ultra quam ferri potest in- 
 Uatus, qufcnam est uUa pbysiologite particula vel 
 niinutulu, in quam non impetiverit, qnam non profauis 
 violaverit unguibus, quemadmodum barpias Tbinci 
 regis Arcadum niensas conspurcasse accepimus? unde 
 sane CO res deducta est, ut lautissima pbilosopbiie cu- 
 pedia, ipsis quibus superi vescuntur dapibus non minus 
 opipara, nunc suis conviviis nauseam faciant. Con- 
 tingit enim ssepenuraero ingentia philosopborum volu- 
 mina evolventi, et diurnis nocturnisque manibus obte- 
 renti, ut dimittatur incertior quam fuerit pridem. 
 Quicquid enim affirmat bic, et satis valido se putat 
 statuminare argumento, refellit alter nullo negotio aut 
 saltem refellere videtur, atque ita pene in infinitum 
 semper babet bic quod opponat, semper ille quod 
 respondeat; dum miser interim lector bine atque inde 
 tanquam inter duas belluas diu divulsus ac discerptus, 
 tedioque prope enectus, tandem veluti in bivio relin- 
 quitur, buc an illuc inclinct plane anceps animi : ab 
 
 utro autem stet Veritas, fortasse (ne vera dissimulem) 
 non est operoe pretium ea, qua expedit, industria ex- 
 plorare : quippe saepius de re perquam minimi mo- 
 menti maxima inter centurias pbilosopbantium agita- 
 tur controversia. Cteterum videor mibi inaudire sub- 
 mussitantes quosdam, quo nunc se proripit ille? dum 
 in errorem invebitur, ipse toto errat coelo : equidem 
 agnosco erratum ; nequc boc fecissem, nisi de vestro 
 candore magna mibi pollicitus. Jam igitur tandem 
 accingamur ad institutum opus : et bis tantis difficul- 
 tatibus dea Lua (quod ait Lipsius) me foeliciter expe- 
 diat. Quaestioqutc nobis bodic proponiturenucleanda 
 btec est, an interitu cujuslibet rei detur resolutio usque 
 ad materiam primam ? Quod aliis verbis sic proferre 
 solcnt, an ulla accidentia quae fuere in corrupto mane- 
 ant etiam in genito ? hoc est, an intercunte forma 
 omnia intereant accidentia quae in composito prceex- 
 titerant ? Magna quidem est inter multos baudqua- 
 quam obscuri nominis pbilosopbos bac de re senten- 
 tiarum discrepantia ; bi dari ejusmodi resolutionem 
 contendunt acerrime, illi neutiquam dare posse mordi- 
 cus defendunt; bos ut sequar inclinat animus, ab illis 
 ut longe latcquc disseutiara tum ratione adductus, uti 
 opinor, tum etiam tantorum virorum autboritatc: boc 
 autem quo pacto probari queat, reliquum est ut pau- 
 lisper experianiur ; idquc succincte quoad potcrimus, 
 atque prinio bunc in modum. Si fiat resolutio ad 
 materiam primam subinfertur inde csscntiale istud 
 efTatum, nempe eam nunquam rcperiri nudam, ma- 
 teriie primte perperam attribui ; occurrent adversarii, 
 boc dicitnr respectu formte, veruni sic babcnto scioli 
 isti formas substanliales nuUibi gentium rcperiri 
 citra formas accidentarias : sed boc Icve, ncc causse 
 admodum jngulura petit ; iirmiora bis adbibcnda 
 sunt. Atque imprimis videamus ecquos babeamus 
 veterum pbilosopborum nostrarum partium fautores; 
 inquirentibus ecce ultro se nobis offert Aristotcles, 
 cumque lectissima manu suorum interpretum se no- 
 bis agglomerat; quippe velim intelligatis auditores, 
 ipso duce et bortatore Aristotele initum boc prtelium, 
 et bonis avibus, uti spero, auspicatum. Qui quidem id 
 ipsum quod nos arbitramur, innuere videtur, Metaph. 
 7, Text. 8, ubi ait quantitatem primo inesse materise; 
 buic perindesententiajquicunqucrefragabitur, possum 
 illi dicam bteresewc ex lege omnium sapientium au- 
 dacter scribere. Quinimo alibi plane vult quantitatem 
 materiae priraae proprietatem, quod idem asserunt ple- 
 rique ejus sectatores ; proprium autem a suo subjecto 
 avellentem quis ferat ipsa vel edititii judicis sententia : 
 verum age, eoniinus agamus, et quod suadeat ratio per- 
 pendamus. Assertio itaque probatur primo bine, quod 
 materia babet propriam entitatem actualem ex sua pro- 
 pria existentia, ergo potest susteutare quantitatem, eam 
 saltem quae dicitur interminata. Quid ? quod nonnuUi 
 confidenter affirment formam non nisi raediante quan- 
 titate in materiam recipi, secundo, si accidens corrum- 
 pitur, necesse babet ut bis tantum modis corrumpatur, 
 vel per introd actionem contrarii, vel per disitionem ter- 
 mini, vel per absentiam alterius causae conservantis, 
 vel denique ex defectu proprii subjecti cui inbacreat: 
 priori modo uequit corrumpi quantitas, posteaquam con- 
 
850 
 
 PROLUSIONES ORATORIiE. 
 
 trarium non habcat; et quantumvis iiabeat qualitas 
 Iiic tanien iiitroduci non est supponendiini : secundus 
 modus hue non special, ulpote qui sil relalorum pro- 
 prius; nee per abseutiam causiE conservanlis, ea enim, 
 quam assinfnant adversarii, esl forma ; accidenlia au- 
 teni a forma pendere concipiunlur bifariam, vel in ge- 
 nere causip formalis, aut efficientis ; prior dependenlia 
 lion est immediala, forma enim subslantialis non in- 
 formal accidentia, ncque intcllig'i potest quod aliud 
 munus exerceat circa ea in hoc genere causa, idcoque 
 tantummodo mediata est, nimirum in quantum materia 
 dependet a forma, ct hffic deinceps a materia ; modus 
 dependenlia; posterior est in g^enere causce efficientis, a 
 forma tamen an accidentia pendeant in hoc genere 
 necne, in ambiguo res est : sed ut donemus ita esse, 
 non sequitur tamen, depcreunte forma juxta etiam pe- 
 rire accidentia, proplerea quod causae illi recedehti, 
 succedit d vestig io alia similis omnino sufficiens ad con- 
 servandum eundem numero effectum absque interrup- 
 tione: postremo, quod non ex defectu proprii subjecti 
 in nihilum recidit quantitas aliaque id genus acci- 
 dentia, probatur quia subjectum quantitatis est aut 
 compositum, aut forma, aut materia; quod compositum 
 non sil, ex eo liquet, quod accidens quod est in compo- 
 silo attingit simul sua unione et materiam et formam 
 per modum unius, at vero quantitas non potest ullo 
 modo attingere animam rationalem, dum baec spiritua- 
 lis sit, et effcctus formalis quantitatis, hoc est exten- 
 sionis quantitativae minime capax; porro quod forma 
 non sit subjectum ejus, ex supradictis satis est pei-spi- 
 cuum : restatigitur ut materia sola sit subjectum quan- 
 titatis, atquc ita praiciditur omnis interitus illalio in 
 quantitate. Quod pertinet ab id quod vulgo affertur 
 de cicatrice, argumentum efficacissimum esse censeo : 
 quis enim mihi fidem adeo extorqueat, ut credam earn 
 in cadavere plane diversam esse ab ea quae fuit nuper- 
 rime in vivo, cum nulla subsit ratio, nulla necessitas 
 corrigendi sensus noslri, qui raro quidem hallucinatur 
 circa propriura objectum; citiusque ego et facilius au- 
 direm de larvis, deque empusis miri commemorantem, 
 quam cerebrosos hosce philosopbrastos de accidentibus 
 suis de novo procreatis stulle et insubide obgannientes. 
 Etenim calorem, cseterasque animalis qualitatcs inten- 
 sibiles et remissibiles easdem prorsus pernovimus in 
 ipso mortis articulo, et post mortem itidem; quorsiim 
 enim destruerentur bee, cum aliae similes sunt produ- 
 cendae ? hue accedit, quod si de novo procrearentur, ad 
 tempus non adeo exiguum durarent, neque etiam re- 
 pente ad summum pervenirent intensionis gradum, sed 
 paulalim et quasi pedetentim. Adde quod vetustissi- 
 mum sit axioma, quantitatem sequi materiam, et qua- 
 litatem formam. Potui quidem, immo ac debui huic 
 rei diulius immorari, ac profecto nescio an vobis, mi- 
 himet certe ipse maximopere sum taedio. Superest 
 ut jam ad adversariorum argumenta dcscenda?nus, 
 quce faxint musae, ut ego in materiam primam si fieri 
 potest, vel potius in nihilum redigam. Quod ad pri- 
 mum atlinet, Aristotelis testimonium, quod dixerit in 
 generatione non mancre subjectum sensibile, occur- 
 rimus illud intelligi debere de subjecto complelo 
 et integro (i. e.) de substantiali composito, quod 
 
 testalur Philoponus antiquus ct erudilus scriptor. 2. 
 Quod inquit Arist. materia est nee quid, nee quantum, 
 nee quale; hoc non dicitur quod nulla quantitate aut 
 qualitate efficialur, sed quia ex se, et in entilate sua 
 nullam aut quantitatem aut qualitatem includat. Tcr- 
 tio, ait Arist. dcslructis primis substantiis dcstrui omnia 
 accidentia, quod sane futurum non infici imur si ipsi 
 corruptfe subinde succederet alia. Postremo, formam 
 inquit recipi in materiam nudara ; hoc est, nuditate 
 formte subslantialis. Adhuc incrudescit pugna, et nu- 
 tat victoria, sic enim instauralo priclio incursant, mate- 
 ria quandoquidem sil pura potentia, nullam habet esse 
 praeterquam illud quod cmendicata forma, uude non 
 satis ex se valet ad sustentanda accidentia, nisi prius 
 ad minimum natura conjungatur formae a qua riufal 
 acceptum feral; huic errori sic mederi solent, materiam 
 primam suum habere proprium esse, quod licet in genere 
 substantiae sit incomplelum, cum accidenle tamen si 
 conferatur esse simpliciler baud incommode dici potest. 
 Quinetiam objiciunt materiam respicere formam sub- 
 stanlialem ut actum primum, at accidentia ut actus se- 
 cundarios. Respondeo, materiam respicere formam 
 prius ordine intentionis, non generationis aut executio- 
 nis. Gliscit jam atque effervcscil contentio, el tanquam 
 ad internecionem dimicaturi urgent nos acrius hunc ad 
 modum : omnis proprietas manat active ab essentia ejus 
 cujus est proprietas ; quantitas autem hoc nequit, quia 
 heec dimanatio est aliqua efficienlia, materia autem se- 
 cundum se nullam habet efficientiam, cum sit mere 
 passiva ; ergo, 6cc. Respondeo, duobus modis posse 
 intelligi naturalem conjunctionem materiae cum quan- 
 titate, ratione solum potentise passivcc intrinsecus 
 natura sua postulantis talem affectionem ; neque enim 
 ulla impellit necessitas, ut omnis innata proprietas sit 
 debita subjecto ratione principii activi ; namque iiiter- 
 dum sufficil passivum, quo modo inulti opinantur mo- 
 tum esse naturalem cielo. Secundo potest et intelligi 
 per intrinsecam dimanationem activam, cum in se 
 habeat veram et actualem essentiam. Sed nee adhuc 
 omnis amissa spes victorire ; iterum enim facto impetu 
 adoriuntur, inferentes deo formam media quantitate in 
 materiam recipi, quoniam inest materiae prius : nos d 
 contra aperte reclamamus huic sequelae, el nihiloniinus 
 quo omnia possimussalva reddere, hac ulimur distincti- 
 one, recipi formam in materiam media quantitate ut 
 dispositione, sen condilione necessaria, verum uullo 
 modo tanquam potentia proxime receptiva formae. 
 Ultimo, sic arguunt, si quantitas insit materiae soli se- 
 quitur esse ingenerabilem et incorruptibilem ; quod 
 videtur repugnare, quia motus per se fit ad quantitatem. 
 At nos utique largimur consequenliam, quippe revera 
 quantitas est incorruptibilis quoad suam eutitatem, 
 licet quoad varios terminos possit incipere et desinere 
 esse per conjunctioirem et divisionem quantitatis, neque 
 enim est per se motus ad quantitatis productionem, sed 
 ad accretionem ; el ncc eo fit quasi nova quantitas in- 
 cipiat esse in rerum natura, sed eo quod una quantitas 
 adjungatur alleri, et quee erat aliena fit propria. Pos- 
 sem equidem plura argumenta ultra citroque proferre, 
 quoe tamen Uedii levandi gratia proetermitto ; hicigitur 
 satius eruit rcceptui canere. 
 
^^« 
 
 PROLUSIONES ORATORI.^. 
 
 851 
 
 IN SCHOLIS PUBLICIS. 
 
 dantur formcB partiales in animali prceter totalem. 
 
 RoMANi rerum olim domiiii altissimiim imperii fasti- 
 gium adepti sunt, quale nee Assyria magnitudo, uec 
 virtus Maccdonica, unquam potuit attiiigere, quo nee 
 futura regum majestas efterre se olim valebit : sive ipse 
 Jupiter annis jam gravior, coeloque conteiitus suo in 
 otium se tradere voluerit, commissis populo Romano 
 tanquam diis terrestribus rerum humanarum habenis; 
 sive hoc Saturno patri in Jtaliam detruso ad amissi 
 coeli solatium concesserit, ut Quirites, ejus nepotes, 
 quicquid uspiam est, terrap, marisque potirentur. Ut- 
 cunque certe non ultro largitus est hoc illis beneficium, 
 sed per assidua bella, perque longos labores a?gre dedit, 
 exploraturus opinor, an Romani soli digni viderentur, 
 qui summi vices Jovis inter mortalcs gererent; itaque 
 parce duriterque vitam degere coacti sunt, quippc in- 
 choatas pacis blanditias abrupit semper belli clamor, et 
 circumcirca strepitus armorum. Ad haec, divictis qui- 
 busque urbibus et provinciis prtesidia imponere et sae- 
 })ius renovare necesse habuere, omnemque pene juven- 
 tutcm nunc in longinquam militiam, nunc in colonias 
 mittere. C'Bcterum non incruentam semper victoriam 
 domum reportarunt, immo scepe funestis cladibus af- 
 fecti sunt. Siquidem Brcnnus Gallorum dux virescen- 
 tem modo Romanam gloriam p'^ne delcvit; et parum 
 abfuit, quo minus divinitiis crcditum orbis moderamen 
 abripuerit Romtc Carthago urbs nobilissima. Denique 
 Gotbi et Vandalici sub Arico rege, Hunnique et Pano- 
 nii Attyla ct Bloda ducibus totam inundantes Italian), 
 florentissimas imperii opes, ex tot bellorum spoliis ag- 
 gestas, misere diripuere, Romanes paulo ante reges 
 hominum turpi fuga stravcre, ipsamque urbem, ipsam 
 inquam Romam, solo nominis terrore ceperunt; quo 
 lacto nihil dici aut fingi potuit gloriosius, plane quasi 
 ipsam victoriam aut amore captant, aut vi et armis cx- 
 terrefactum in suas traxisseut partes. Satis admirati 
 estis auditores, quorsum hrec omnia protulerim, jam 
 accipite. Hoec ego quoties apud me recolo animoque 
 colligo, totics cogito quantis viribus de tuenda veritate 
 certatum sit, quantis omnium studiis, quantis vigiliis 
 coutenditur labantem ubiquc, ct profligatam veritatem 
 ab injuriis hostium asserere. Nee tamcn prohiberi po- 
 test, quin foedissima colluvies errorum invadat indies 
 onines disciplinas, quae quidem tanta vi aut veneno 
 pollet, ut vel niveee veritati suam imaginem inducere 
 valeat, aut sideream veritatis speciem nescio quo fuco 
 sibi adsciscere, qua, ut videtur, arte et magnis philoso- 
 phis frequenter imposuit, et honores, venerationemque 
 uni veritati debitam sibi arrogavit. Quod in hodierna 
 quccstione videre poteritis, quae quidem non instrenuos 
 nacta est pugiles, eosque clari nominis, si relictis hisce 
 partibus veritatem deraereri mallent: itaque nostraenunc 
 erit operae, ut nudatum, plumisque emendicatis exutum 
 errorem deformitati nativee reddamus; quod ut expedi- 
 tius fiat gravissimorum vestigiis authorum insistendum 
 3 I 
 
 esse mihi existimo, neque enira expectandum est, ut 
 ego quicquam de meo adjiciam, quod utique tot viros 
 ingenio prsestabiles fugit ct praeteriit ; idcirco quod 
 sufficit ad rem dilucidandam expromam brovi, argii- 
 mentoque uno atque altero tanquam aggere vallabo ; 
 turn si quid reclamat, atque obstat nostrae sententiae 
 diluam, ut potero ; quoc tamen omnia paucis perstrin- 
 gam, et quasi extremis alis radam. Contra unitatem 
 formee, quani in una eademque materia statucre semper 
 emunctiorcs philosophi solent, varias opinioncs subor- 
 tas esse Icgimus; quidam enim plures in animali for- 
 mas totales dari pertinaciter contendunt, idque pro suo 
 quisque captu varie defendunt; alii totalem unicam, 
 paniales vero multipliccs cjusdem materice hospitio ex- 
 cipi importunius asseverant. Cum illis ad tempus more 
 bcllico paciscemur inducias, dum in hos omnem praclii 
 vim atque impetum transl'erimus. Ponatur prima in 
 acie Aristotelcs, qui noster plane est, quique sub finem 
 primi libri de anima, non occulte favet nostrae asser 
 tioni. Huic authoritati aliquot attexere argumcnta 
 non est longae disquisitionis opus: praebet se mihi im- 
 primis Chrysostomus Javellus, cujus 6 stercorario, 
 nimirum horridulo et incompto stylo, aurum et niar- 
 garitas effodere possimus, quae si quis delicatus asper- 
 netur, in ilium sane aliquatenus belle quadrabit ille 
 iEsopici Galli apologus. In hunc ferme modum argu- 
 mentatur ; distinctio ilia et organizatio partium dissi- 
 milarium pnecedere debet introductioncm animtp, ut- 
 potc quce sit actus corporis non cujuslibct, sed physici 
 organic! ; quapropter immediate ante productionem 
 totalis formac necesse est corrumpi partiales illas nisi 
 corruat penitus receptissimum illud axioma, gencratio 
 unus est alterius corruptio ; quarum productionem non 
 sequitur similium prresentanea productio; id enim 
 frustra foret, et ad naturae matris sapientiam parum 
 conveniens. Deinde postcaqnam omnis forma, sive 
 perfecta sit, sive imperfecta, tribuat esse specificum, 
 necesse est, ut quamdiu manet ista forma, tamdiu res 
 ilia mancateadem, non variata secundum substantiani 
 suam, proindeque superveniet forma totalis tanquam 
 accidens, non per generationem sed per alterationem. 
 Sequitur porro animam totalem sive divisibilem, sive 
 indivisibilem, non sufficere ad omnes partes animantis 
 plene perfecteque informandas, quod ut largiamur 
 nulla suadet ratio. Sequitur itidem unam formam 
 substantialem esse quasi dispositionem proximam et 
 permanentem ad aliam, quod veritatis absonum est, 
 quandoquidem unaquseque forma constituit essentiam 
 completam in genere substantia;. Postremo, si in om- 
 nibus partibus puta hominis plurificientur formee par- 
 tiales, ex iUis certe consurget una integra distincta ab 
 anima rationali, unde ilia erit, aut forma inanimati sen 
 corporeitatis, aut mistionis (quam praeter animam in 
 homine dari sane ultra quam credibile est) vel erit 
 anima sensitiva, aut vegetativa, hoc autem affirmantem 
 nullo modo audiat eruditior chorus philosophantium ; 
 cujus rei ampliori probatione supersedeo, quoniam in 
 confesso est, nee admodum accedit ad apicem causae. 
 Verura, quod caput est controversiae, objiciunt adver- 
 sarii, partem ab animali amputatam remanere actu 
 post separationem, non per formam totius cum sit ex- 
 
8d2 
 
 PROLUSIONES ORATORIO. 
 
 tra totum, ncc per furmain rccciis acquisitani, cum nul- 
 lum adsit n<>'ens, nulla perceptibilis actio, nulla pnevia 
 alteratiu ; erjjo, actu existit per formam propriam quani 
 prius habebat,dum erat una in toto. Atque hoc ar^^u- 
 mcnto arietare se putant causam nostram et funditus 
 cvcrtere : cteterum non minus vere quam vulgariter 
 solet responderi, formam de novo ^enitam, cum vilis- 
 sima sit utpote cadaveris, et quasi via ad resolutionem, 
 certe nee multum temporis, ncc dispositiones multas, 
 nee onlinatam alterationem cfHag^itarc. Quid si etiam 
 causa aliqua universalis concurrat cum proximo tem- 
 peramento ad inducendam qualenicunque formam ne 
 materia rcperiatur vacua? Quod autem multiplices 
 visantur in animali operationes, id non a formis dis- 
 tinctis parlialibus pctendum est, scd ab animae totalis 
 emincntia, qute quidem eequipollet formis specie dis- 
 tinctis. Cueteras quae occurrunt, levioris momenti 
 objectiones ex composite praeterire libet, neque enim 
 jugulant ; faciliusque amoveri, et luculentius redargui 
 poterunt, si forte inter disputandum prolatae fuerint in 
 medium. Quocunque res redeat tametsi ego causa 
 cadam, causa non cadet ; satis enim superque sue 
 martc valet ad se defendendam invicta semper Veritas ; 
 nee ad id alienis indiget adminiculis ; et licet nobis 
 aliquando superari, et pessum premi videatur, invio- 
 latam tamen perpetuo servat se, et intactam ab erroris 
 unguibus ; in hoc soli non absimilis, qui saepc invo- 
 lutum se, ct quasi inquinatum nubibus ostendit huma- 
 nis oculis, cum tamen collcctis in se radiis, totoque 
 ad se revocato splendore purissimus ab omni labe 
 colluceat. 
 
 IN FERIIS iESTIVIS COLLEGII, SED CON- 
 CURRENTE, UT SOLET, TOTA FERE 
 ACADEMI^E JUVENTUTE. 
 
 ORATIO. 
 
 Exercitationet nonnunquam ludicras Philosophia 
 Studiis non obesse. 
 
 Cum ex ea urbe quae caput urbium est, hue nuper 
 me reciperem, academici, dcliciarum omnium, quibus is 
 locus supra modum affluit, usque ad saginam, prope 
 dixerim, satur, sperabam mihi iterum aliquando utium 
 illud literarium, quo ego vitae genere etiam ccelestes 
 animas gaudere opinor; eratque penitus in aninio jam 
 tandem abdere me in literas, et jucundissimee philoso- 
 pbiae perdius et pernox assidere; ita semper assolet 
 laboris et voluptatis vicissitudo amovere satietatis toe- 
 dium, et efBcere, ut intermissa repetantur alacrius. 
 Cum his me incalentem studiis repente avocavit, atque 
 abstraxit pcrvetusti moris fere annua celebritas, jus- 
 susque ego sum eam operam quam acquircndae sapien- 
 tiae primo destinaram, ad nugas transferre, et novas 
 ineptias excogitandas : quasi jam nunc non essent 
 omnia stultorum plena, quasi egregia ilia, et non minus 
 
 Argo dccantata navis stultifera fecisset naufragium, 
 plane denique ac si ipsi Democrito materia jam ridcndi 
 deesset. Varum date quaeso veniam, auditores ; hie 
 enim hodiemus mos, utut ego liberius paulo sum locu- 
 tus, sane quidem non est ineptus, sed impensc potius 
 laudabilis, quod quidem ego jam mihi pn>posui statim 
 luculentius patefaccre. Quod si Junius Brutus secun- 
 dus ille rei Romanae conditor, magnus ille ultor regiae 
 libidinis, animum prope diis immortalibus parem, et 
 mirificam indolem simulatione vecordiae supprimcre 
 sustinuit; certe nihil est, cur me pudeat aliquantisper 
 fibipoao^tuQ nugari, ejus prtesertim jussu, cujus interest, 
 tanquam aedilis hos quasi solennes ludos curare. Tum 
 nee mediocriter me pellexit, et invitavit ad has partes 
 subeundas vestra, vos qui ejusdem estis mecum collegii, 
 in me nuperrime comperta facilitas, cum enim ante 
 praeteritos menses aliquam multos oratorio apud vos 
 munere perfuncturus essem, putaremque lucubrationes 
 meas qualescunque etiam ingratas propemodum futuras,^ 
 et mitiores habituras judices j£acum et Minoa, quam h 
 vobis fere quemlibet, sane praeter opinionem meam, 
 prieter meam si quid erat speculae, non vulgari secuti 
 ego accepi, imo ipse sensi, omnium piausu exceptae 
 sunt, immo eorum, qui in me alias propter studiorum 
 dissidia essent prorsus infeuso et inimico animo : gene- 
 rosum utique simultatis exercendae genus, et regio 
 pectore non indig^ium ; siquidem cum ipsa amicitia 
 plerumque multa inculpate facta detorquere soleat, 
 tunc profecto acris et infesta inimicitia errata forsitan 
 multa, et hand pauca sine dubio indiscrtc dicta, lenitcr 
 et clementius quam meum erat meritum interpretari 
 non gravabatur. Jam semel unico hoc exemplo vol 
 ipsa demens ira mentis compos fuisse videbatur, et hoc 
 facto furoris infamiam abluisse. At vero summopere 
 oblector, etmirum in modum voluptate pcrfundor, cum 
 videam tanta doctissimorum honiiuum frcquentia cir- 
 cumfusum me, et undique stipatum : et rursus tamen 
 cum in me descendo, et quasi flexis introrsum oculis 
 meam tenuitatem secretus intueor, equidem ssepius 
 mibimet soli conscius erubesco et repentina quacdam 
 ingruens mocstitia subsilientem deprimit et jugulat 
 laetitiam. Sed nolite, academici, sic me jacentem et 
 constematum, et acie oculorum vestrorum tanquam de 
 ccelo tactum, nolite quaeso sic deserere; erigat me 
 semianimum, quod potest, et refocillet vestri favoris 
 aura, ita fiet, ut, vobis authoribus, non admudum 
 grave sit hoc malum ; at remedium mali vobis cx- 
 hibentibus, eo jucundius et acceptius ; adeo ut mihi 
 fuerit perquam gratum sic saepius examinari, modo 
 liceat a vobis recroari me toties et refici. At 6 
 interim singularem in vobis vim, atque eximiam vir- 
 tutem, quae tanquam hasta ilia Achillea, Vulcani mu- 
 nus, vulncrat et mcdicatur! Cacterum ncc miretur 
 quispiam, si ego tot eruditione insigncs viros, totum- 
 que pene academiac florcm hue confluxisse, tanquam 
 inter astra positus triumphem ; vix etenim opinor 
 plures olim Athenas adventasse ad audicndum duos 
 oratores summos Demosthenem et ^schinem de prin- 
 cipatu cloquentiae certantes, nee eam unquam fopli- 
 citatem contigisse peroranti Hortensio, ncc tot tam 
 cTCfie literatos viros condecorassc orantem Cicero- 
 
PROLUSIONES ORATORIO. 
 
 853 
 
 II em; adeo ut quamvis ego hoc opus minus fceliciter 
 ali^olvcro, erit tamcn mihi honori non aspernando in 
 tiiito concursu conventuque praestantissimorum homi- 
 mim vol verba fccisse. Atque hercle non possum ego 
 nunc, quin mihi blandiuscule plaudam, qui vel Orphco, 
 vel Amphione multo sira moo judicio fortunatior: hi 
 enim chordulis suavi conccntu adsonantibus digitos 
 tantum doctc ct perite admovebant ; eratque in ipsis 
 fidibus, et in apto dextroque manuum motu cequalis 
 utrinquc pars dulccdinis : atqui ego si quid hodie laudis 
 hinc reportavero, ea sane et tota erit et vere mea, tan- 
 toque nobilior, quanto ingenii opus vincit ac praestat 
 manuum artificium. Deinde hi saxa, et feras, sylvas- 
 que ad se trabcbant, et si quos homines, rudes illos et 
 agTcstes : at ego doctissimas mihi dcditas aures, et ab 
 ore mco pendentes video. Novissime agrcstes illi, et 
 fcrce jam satis notam ct complurcs exauditam sequc- 
 bantur nervorum harmoniani ; vos vero hue rapuit, et 
 jam detinet sola expectatio. Sed tamcn academici,hic 
 vos imprimis coninionefactos volo, me non hacc glo- 
 riosus crepuisse ; ulinam enim mihi vel in preesenlia 
 conccderctur mellcum illud, scu verius ncctareum elo- 
 qucntiiE flumcn quicquid unquani Attica vel Romana 
 ingenia imbucbat olim, et quasi cu-litus irrorabat, uti- 
 nam mihi liceret omnem penitus Suad.T) mcdullam 
 cxugcre, et ipsius etiam Mercurii scrinia fuffurari, om- 
 nesque eleg-autiarum loculos funditus exinanirc, quo 
 possim aliquid tanta expcctatione, tam prteclaro coetu, 
 tarn dcnique tcrsis et dclicatis auribus dignum adferrc. 
 Ecce, auditores, quo me raptat et impellit vehcmcntis- 
 simus ardor et prolubium placendf vobis, quippe dc im- 
 proviso me provectum sentio in ambitionem quandam, 
 sed cam sane piam, et honesttim, si hoc fieri potest, 
 sacrilcgium. Et certe existimo haudquaquam mihi 
 opus esse Musarum auxilium implorare et exposcere, 
 iis enim mc circumseptum puto, qui Musas omnes spi- 
 rant et Gratias, totumque reor Helicona, et qusecunquc 
 sunt alia Musarum delubra ad huncdiem celebrandum 
 omnes suos effudissc alumnos; adeo utcredibile sit jam 
 nunc propter eorum absentiam lugere et deflorescere 
 Parnassi lauros; unde profccto frustra erit Musas, et 
 Charites, et Libentias usquam terrarura quacritare, 
 quam in hoc loco ; quod si ita sit, necesse est protinus 
 ipsam barbariem, errorem, ignorantiam, ct omne illud 
 musis invisum genus quam celerrim6 aufugere ad as- 
 pectum vestrum, et sub diverso longc coelo abscondere 
 sese; atque deinde quidem quid obstat, quo minus 
 quicquid est barbarre, incultte, et obsoletae locutionis 
 abigatur exemplo ab oratione mea, atque ego afHatu 
 vestro, et arcano distinctu disertus et politus subito 
 evadam. Utcunque tamen vos, auditores, obtestor, ne 
 qucm vestrum pceniteat meis paulisper vacasse nugis ; 
 ipsi enim dii omnes, coelestis politite cura ad tempus 
 deposita, depugnantiura homunculorum spectaculo 
 saepius interfuisse pcrhibentur; aliquotics etiam hu- 
 miles non dedignati casus, et paupere hospitio excepti, 
 fabas et olera narrantur esitasse. Obsecro itidem ego 
 vos, atque oro, auditores optimi, ut hoc meum quale 
 conviviolum ad subtile vestrum et sagax palatum 
 faciat. Verum etiamsi ego permultos noverim sciolos 
 quibus usitatissimum est, si quid ignorarunt, id superbe 
 
 et inscite apud alios contemuere, tanquam indignum 
 cui operam impendant suam : quemadmodum hie dia- 
 Iccticam iiisulse vcllicat, quam nunquam assequi potue- 
 rit ; ille philosophiam nihili facit, quia scilicet formo- 
 sissima dearum natura nunquam ilium tali dignata est 
 honore, ut se nudam illi prrebucrit intuendam : ego 
 tamen festivitates et sales, in quibus quoque perexi- 
 guam agnosco facultatem meam, non gravabor, ut po- 
 tero, laudarc ; si prius hoc unum addidero, quod sane 
 arduum vidctur, et minime proclive, mc jocos hodie 
 serio laudaturum. Atque id non immerito quidem, 
 quid enim est quod citius conciliet, diutiusquc rctineat 
 amicitias, quam amcenum et fcstivum ingcnium ? et 
 profecto cui desunt sales, et lepores, ct politiihc facetiie, 
 baud temere invenietis cui sit gratus et acceptus. No- 
 bis autem, academici, si quotidiani moris esset indor- 
 mire et qusisi immori philosophite, et inter dumos ct 
 spinas logicae consenescere cilra ullam enim relaxa- 
 tionem, et nunquam concesso rcspirandi loco, quid, 
 quacso, aliud essct philosophari, quam in Trophonii 
 antro vaticinari, ct Catonis plus nimio rigidi sectam 
 sectari ; immo dicerent vel ipsi rusticani, sinapi nos 
 victitare. Adde quod, quemadmodum qui luctoc et 
 campestri ludo assuescunt se, multo cartcris valcntiores 
 rcdduntur, et ad omne opus paratiores; ita paviter 
 usu venit, ut per banc ingenii palucstram corroboretur 
 nervus animi, et quasi melior sanguis ct succus com- 
 paretur, utque ipsa indoles limatior fiat aculiorque, et 
 ad omnia sequax et vcrsalilis. Quod si quis urbanus 
 et lepidus haberi nolit, ne sis hoc illi stomacho si pa- 
 ganus et subrusticus appclletur ; et probe novirnus 
 illibcralc quoddam genus hominum, qui cum ipsi pror- 
 sus insulsi sint et infestivi, suam tacite sccum tesii- 
 mantes vilitatem et inscitiam, quicquid forte urbanius 
 dictitatum audiunt, id statim in se dici putant; digni 
 sane quibus id vere eveniat, quod injuria suspicantur, 
 ut scilicet omnium dicteriis everberantur, pene usque- 
 dum suspendiumcogitent. Sed non valent istae homi- 
 num quisquilise urbanitatis clegantultc licentiam in- 
 hibere. Vultis itaque me auditores, rationis funda- 
 mento fidera exemplorum superstruere ? ea utiquc mihi 
 abunde suppetunt, primus omnium occurrit Homerus 
 ille oriens, et Lucifer cultioris literaturse, cum quo 
 omnis eruditio tanquam gemcUa nata est ; ille enim 
 intcrdum a deorum consiliis et rebus in coelo gestis 
 divinura revocans animum, et ad facetias divertens, 
 murium et ranarum pugnam lepidissime descripsit. 
 Quinetiam Socrates, teste Pythio, sjipientissimus ille 
 mortalium, jurgiosam uxoris morositatem saepcnumero 
 quam urbane perstrinxisse fertur. Omnia deinde ve- 
 terum philosophorum diverbia sale sparsa, et lepore 
 venusto passim legimus referta : et certe hoc unum 
 erat quod antiquos omnes comoediarum et epigramma- 
 tum scriptores, et Groecanicos et Latinos, aeternitate 
 norainis donavit. Quinimo accepimus, Ciceronis jocos 
 et facetias tres libros a Tyrone conscriptos implevisse. 
 Et cuique jam in manibus est ingeniosissiraum illud 
 MoritC encomium non infimi scriptoris opus, multre- 
 que alise clarissimorum hujus memoriae oratorum de 
 rebus ridiculis extant baud infacet;« prolusiones. Vul- 
 tis summos imperatores, et reges, et fortes viros ? Ac- 
 
854 
 
 PROLUSIONES ORATORLC. 
 
 cipite Periclem, Epaminondam, Agesilaum, et Philip- 
 piim Maccdoncni, qiios (lit Gclliano inure loquar) 
 festivitatiini et salse dictorum scatuisse mcmorant bis- 
 torici : ad bos Caiuro I^lium, Pub. Cor. Scipionem, 
 Cncium Pompcinm, C. Juliuni et Octavium Ccesares, 
 quos in hoc penere omnibus praestitisse coaetaneis 
 autbor est M. Tullius. Vultis adbuc majora nomina? 
 ipsum ctiani Jovcm reliquosque Ccclites inter epulas 
 et pocula jucunditati sedantesinducunt poetnc sag^acis- 
 simi Tcritates adumbratores. Vestra demiim, acade- 
 niici, utar tutela et patrocinio, quod mihi erit omnium 
 ad instar; quippc quam non displiceant vobis sales et 
 joculi ; indicat satis taiitus bodie vestrum factus con- 
 oursus, ct hoc sane unumquodquc caput niiiii annuere 
 videtur; nee minim est mehcrcle festam banc ut mun- 
 dulani urbanitatem omncs probos, simulque claros viros 
 sic oblectare, cum et ipsa inter splcndidos virtutum 
 Aristotclioarum ordines sublimis sedeat, et vclut in 
 Pantbseo quodam diva cum divis sororibus colluceat. 
 Sed forte non desunt quidem barbati magistri tetrici 
 oppido et difficiles, qui se niag'nos Catones, nedum 
 Catunculos putantes, vultu ad severitatem stoicam 
 composito, obstipo nutantes capita anxie querantur 
 omnia nunc dierum comniisceri, et in deterius perverti 
 et loco priorum Aristotelis ab initiatis recens bacca- 
 laureis exponendorum, scomniata et inanes nugas in- 
 Terecunde et intempestive jactari ; bodiernum quoque 
 exercitium a majoribus nostris sine dubio recte et fide- 
 liter institutum ob insignem aliquem,sive in rhetorica, 
 sive in pbilosopbia fructum indc percipiendum, nunc 
 nuper in insipidos sales perperani iramutari. At vero 
 his quod respondeatur ad manum mibi est, et in pro- 
 cinctu ; sciant enim illi, si nesciant, literas, cum lejjes 
 reipub. nostrae literariae primura esscnt latce, ab exteris 
 regionibus vix has in oras fuisse advectas : idcirco cum 
 Grtpcap et I^tinse linguiE peritia impendio rara esset 
 et insolens, expediebat eo acriori studio, et magis 
 assiduis exercitationibus ad eas eniti et aspirare : nos 
 autcm quandoquidem superioribus nostris pejus sumus 
 morati, melius erudili, oportebit relictis quee baud 
 multam habent difficultatcm ad ea studia accedcre, ad 
 quse et illi contulissent se, si per otium licuisset; nee 
 vos praeteriit primos quosque legumlatores duriora 
 paulu scita, et severiora quam ut ferri possint semper 
 ederesolere, ut deflectentes etpaululum rclapsi homines 
 in ipsum rectum incidant. Deniquemutata nunc om- 
 nino rerum facie, necesse est multas leges, multasque 
 consuetudines si non antiquari et obsolesccre coangus- 
 taii saltem nee per omnia servari. Verum si Icves istius- 
 modi nugse palam dcfensitatae fuerint et approbatce, 
 publicamque deraeruerint laudem, (sic enim arduis su- 
 perciliis solent dicere,) nemo non arerso ab sana et solida 
 erudltione animo eum ad ludicrastatimct histrionalem 
 prope levitatem adjunget, adeo ut ipsa pbilosopborum 
 spatiapro doctiset cordatis nugatores emissura sintvel 
 mimis etscurris proterviorcs. At vero ego existimo eum 
 qui jocis insubidis sic solet capi, ut prte iis seria et ma- 
 gis utilia plane negligat, eum inqnam, nee in bac parte, 
 ncc in ilia posse admodum proficere: non quidem in 
 seriis, quia si fuisset ad res serias tractandas. natura 
 cumparatus, factusque, credo non tam facile pateretur 
 
 se ab iis abduci ; ncc in uugatoriis, quia vix queat ullus 
 belle et lepide jocari, nisi et serio agere prius addidi- i 
 cerit. Sed vereor, academici, ne longius oequo deduxe- 
 rim orationis filum ; nolo excusare quod potui, ne inter 
 cxcusandum ingravescat culpa. Jam oratoriis soluti 
 legibus prosiliemus in comicam licentiam. In qua si 
 forte morem mcum, si rigidas verecundice leges trans- 
 versum, quod aiunt, digitum egressus fucro, sciatis 
 academici, me in vestram gratiani exuisse antiquum 
 meum, et parumper de])osuisse: aut si quid solute, si 
 quid luxurianter dictum erit, id quidem non mentem et 
 indolem meam, sed temporis ratiouem et loci geniuni 
 mibi suggessisse putetis. Itaque, quod simile solent 
 exeuntes implorarc comocdi, id ego inceptans flagito. 
 Plaudite, et ridete. 
 
 PROLUSIO. 
 
 Laboranti, ut videtur, et pene corruenti stultorum 
 rei summai, equidem nescio quo merito meo dictator 
 sum creatus. At quorsum ego.'* cum dux ille, et ante- 
 signatus omnium sopbistarum et sedulo anibiverit hoc 
 munus, et fortissime potuerit administrare ; ille enim 
 induratus miles ad quinquaginta pridem sopbistas su- 
 dibus breviculis armatos per agios Barwellianos strenue 
 duxit, et obsessurus oppidum satis militariler aquce- 
 ductum disjecit, ut per sitim posset oppidanos ad de- 
 ditionem cogere ; at vero abiisse nuper bominem valde 
 doleo, siquidem ejus discessu nos omnes sopbistas non 
 solum a(Cf0aX«e reliquit, sed et decollates. Et jam fin- 
 gite, auditores, quamvis non sint Aprilis ealendoe, festa 
 adesse bilaria, matri deum dicata, vel deo risui rem di- 
 vinam fieri. Ridete itaque et petulanti plene sustollite 
 cacbinnum, exporrigite frontem, et uncis indulgete na- 
 ribus, sed naso adunco ne suspendite; profusissimo risu 
 circumsonent omnia, et solutior cacbinnus bilares ex- 
 cutiat lacbrymas, ut iis risu exbauslis ne guttulam 
 quidem babeat dolor qua triumpbum exornet suum. 
 Ego profecto si quem niuiis parce diducto rictu riden- 
 tem conspexero, dicam eum scabros et cariosos denies 
 rubigine obductos, aut indecoro ordine prominentes ab- 
 scondere, aut inter prandendum bodie sic opplevisse 
 abdomen, ut non audeat ilia ultorius distendere ad 
 risum, ne prwcinenti ori succinat, et senigmata qusedam 
 nolens aff'utiat sua non sphinx sed sphincter anus, quae 
 medicis interpretanda non Oedipo relinquo ; nolim 
 enim bilari vocis sono obstrepat in hoc ccetu posticus 
 gemitus: solvant ista medici qui alvum solvunt. Si 
 quis strenuum et clarum non ediderit murmur, eum ego 
 asseverabo tam gravem et mortiferum faucibus exha- 
 lare spiritum, ut vel JEtna, vel Avernus nihil spiret 
 tetrius; aut certe allium aut porrum comedissedudum, 
 adeo ut non audeat aperire os, ne vicinos quosque foe- 
 tido halitu enccet. At vero absit porro ab hoc ccctu 
 horrendus ct tartareus ille sibili sonus, nam si hie au- 
 diatur bodie, credam ego Fnrias et Eumenides inter 
 vosocculte latitare, et angues suos colubrosque pectori- 
 bus vcstris immisisse, et proindc Athamanteos furores 
 vobis inspiravisse. At enimvero, academici, vestram 
 ego in me bcnevolentiam demiror atque exosculor, qui 
 me audituri per flammas et igncs irrupislis in huuc 
 
PROJ.USIONES ORATORIO. 
 
 855 
 
 lucum. Hiiic cuim in ipso limine sciiitillans ille noster 
 Cerberus astat, et fiimido latratu horribilis, flammeo- 
 que coruscans baculo favillas pleno oreegerit; illinc 
 ardens et voracissinius fornax noster luridos eructat 
 ignes, et tortuosos fumi glolios cvolvit, adeo ut non sit 
 difficilius iter ad inferos vel invito Plutone; et certe 
 nee ipse Jason niinori cum periculo boves illos Martis 
 irvpiirvsovrnQ agg'ressus est. Janique auditores, credite 
 vos in coclum receptos, posteaquani evasistis Purgato- 
 rium, et nescio quo novo niiraculo ex fornace calida 
 salvi prodiistis, neque sane niilii in mentem venit ullius 
 lierois cnjus fortitudincm commode possira vestrae 
 sequiparare, ncque enim Bellerophontes ille ignivomam 
 chimipram aniniosius dcbellavit, nee validissimi illi 
 regis Arthur! pugiles, igniti et flammigerantis castelli 
 incantanienta vicerunt facilius et dissiparunt ; atque 
 bine subit, ut puros mihi auditores et lectissinios polli- 
 cear, si quid enim fiecis hue advenerit post explora- 
 tioneni caniini, ego statim dixcro ignes nostros jani- 
 tores esse fatuos. At fteliccs nos et incolumcs perpetuo 
 futuros! Romw enim ad diuturnitatem imperii senipi- 
 ternos ignes sollicile et religiose servabant, nos vigili- 
 bus et vivis ignibus custodimur: quid dixi vivis ct 
 vigilibus ? id sane improviso lapsu preetervolavit, 
 quippc nunc melius commcmini, eos primo crepusculo 
 cxtingucre scse, ct non nisi claro sudo sese resuscitare. 
 Attamen spescst, tandem iterum donium nostrara posse 
 inclarcscerc, cum nemo inficias iverit duo maxima aca- 
 demire luminaria nostro collegio prcesidere; quamvis 
 illi nusquam majori forent in honore quam Romic ; ibi 
 enim vel virgines Vestales incxtinctos eos, etinsomnes 
 totas noctcs scrvarent, vel forte ordini seraphico initia- 
 lentur flammei fratrcs. In hos denique optimc quadrat 
 hemisticbon illud Virgilianum, igncus est ollis vigor: 
 imnio peuc inductus sum ut credam Horatium horum 
 ijostrorum ignium mcntionem fecisse, major enim lio- 
 rnm, dum stat inter conjugem et liberos, niicat inter 
 omncs vclut inter ignes luna minores. Non possum 
 autem prscterire faedum Ovidii errorem, qui sic cccinit, 
 " Nataque de flamma corpora nulla vides." Videmus 
 enim passim oberrantes igniculos hoc nostro ignc ge- 
 iiitos, hoc si negaverit Ovidius, necessum habebit uxoris 
 pudicitiam vocare in dubium. Ad vos redeo, auditores ; 
 lie vos pceniteat tarn molesti et formidolosi itineris, ecce 
 convivium vobis apparatum ! eccas mensas ad luxum 
 Persicum extructas, et cibis conquisilissimis onustas, 
 qui vel Apicianam gulam oblectent et deliniant! 
 Ferunt enim Antonio et Cleopatroe octo integros apros 
 in epulis appositos, vobis autem primo forculo hem 
 quiiiquaginta saginatos apros cervisia couditanea per 
 triennium niaceratos, et tamen adhuc adeo callosos, ut 
 Tcl caniiios dentes delassare valeant. Dein totidem 
 optiujos boves insigniter caudatos famulari nostro igni 
 pra; foribus recens assos; sed vereor neomncmsuccum 
 in patinam exudaverint. Ab his tot etiam en vitulina 
 capita, sane crassa et carnosa, sed adeo pertenui cere- 
 bro, ut non sufRciat ad condiraentum. Tum quidem 
 et hoedos plus minus centum, sed puto crebriori Veneris 
 usu nimium macros: arietes aliquot expectaviraus 
 speciosis et patulis cornubus,'sed eos coqui nostri non- 
 dum secura attulerunt ex oppido. Si quis aves ma- 
 
 vult, habemus innumeras, turundis, et ofEs, et scobi- 
 nato caseo diu altiles : inprimis, nescio quod genus 
 avium tarn ingeuio quam pluma viride, undc eas e re- 
 gione psittacorum suspicor asportatas ; quae quia gre- 
 gatim semper volitant, et eodem fere loco nidulanlur, 
 eodem etiam disco apponentur; iis vero parce velim 
 vescamini, quia prseterquam quod admodum crudisint, 
 et nihil in se habeant solidi nutrimenti, scabiem etiam 
 comedentibus protrudunt (modo vera Iradit comcstor.) 
 Jam vero libere et genialiter epulamini ; hie enim 
 prcesto est missus quem vobis prce omnibus commendo, 
 proegrandis scilicet gallinago, pertriennalem saginam 
 adeo unguinosae pinguedinis, ut illi vix satis largum 
 sit ununi ferculum amplissimum, rostro eosque prte- 
 longo et eduro, ut impune possit cum elephante aut 
 rhinocerote certamen ingredi ; cam autem in hunc diem 
 commode obtruncavimus, proptereaquod prjegrandium 
 simiorum more incepit puellis insidiari, et vim inferre 
 mulieribus. Hunc subsequuntur avesqutedam Hiber- 
 nicae, nescio quo nomine; sed inccssu et corporis filo 
 gruibus persimiles, quamvis utplurimum soleant in 
 postremam mensam asservari; hie quidem estnovuset 
 rarus magis quam salutaris cibus : his itaque abstineatis 
 moneo, sunt enim cfficacissimi (modo vera tradit comcs- 
 tor) ad generandos pediculos inguinales ; has igitur 
 arbitror ego agasonibus utiliorcs futuras; nam cum 
 sint natura) vividoc, vegetre, et saltaturientes, si equis 
 strigosis per podicem ingerantur, reddcnt eos prolinus 
 vivaciorcs et velociores quam si decem vivas anguillas 
 in ventre baberent. Anseres etiam complurcs aspicite, 
 et bujus anni et superiurura argutos valde, et ranis 
 Aristophanicis vocal iores ; quos quidem facile dignos- 
 cctis ; mirum enim est ni se jam prodidcrint sibilando, 
 statim fortasse audietis. Ova insupcr aliquot habemus, 
 sed ea KaKov KopaKog; frugum vero nihil praeterquam 
 mala et mespila, eaque infoelicis arboris, nee satis ma- 
 tura, proestabit itaque iterum ad solem suspendi. Vi- 
 detis apparatus nostros, quaeso vos, quibuspalato sunt, 
 commessaraini. Verum hariolor dicturos vos, epulas 
 hasce, veluti nocturnie illce dapcs quoe adoemone vene- 
 ficis apparantur, nullo condiri sale, vcreorque ne discc- 
 datis jcjuniorcs quam venistis. Verum ad ea pergo 
 quoB ad me propius attinent. Romani sua habuere flo- 
 ralia, rustici sua patilia, pislores sua fornacalia, nos 
 quoque potissimum hoc tempore rcrum et negotiorum 
 vacui, Socratico more ludere solemus. Itaque hos- 
 pitia leguleiorum suos habent, quos vocant dominos, 
 vel bine indicantes quam sint honoris ambiliosi. Nos 
 autem, academici, ad paternitatem quamproxime ac- 
 cedere cupientes id ficto nomine usurpare gestimus, 
 quod vero non audemus saltcm nonnisi in occulto ; 
 quemadmodum puelltE nuptias lusorias et pucrperia 
 solenniter fingunt, earum rerum quas anhelantct cupi- 
 unt, umbras captantes et aniplectentes. Quorsum 
 autem eo, qui proxime sc circumegit, anno interniissa 
 fuerit bsec solennitas, ego sane baud possum divinare ; 
 nisi quod ii qui patres futuri erant, adeo strenue se ges- 
 serint in oppido, ut is cui id negotii dabatur, tantorum 
 misertus laborum ultro jusserit eos ab bac cura otiosos 
 esse. At vero unde est quod ego tamsubito factus sum 
 pater P Dii vestram fidera ! Quid hoc est prodigii 
 
866 
 
 PROLUSIONES ORATORLE. 
 
 Pliniana exuperantis portenta ? numnani ego percusso 
 aiigue TyresifE falum expertus sum ? ecqua me Thes- 
 sala sajra magico pcrfudit ungucnto? an dciiique ego 
 a dco aliquo vitiatus, ut olim Cnoeeus, virilitatcm pac- 
 tus sum stupri pretium, ut sic repente tic ^ijXiiac n'c 
 appivd dXXa x^<"7*' ^*'^ -^ quibusdam, audivi nuper 
 domina. At cur vidcor illis parum masculus ? Ecquis 
 Prisciani pudor ? itaue propria qute maribus faemineo 
 generi tribuunt iusulsi grammaticastri ! scilicet quia 
 scjpbos capacissimos nunquam valui pancratice bau- 
 rire ; aut quia manus tenenda stiva non occaluit, aut 
 quia nunquam ad mcridianum solem supinus jacui sep- 
 tennis bubulcus ; fortasse demum quod nunquam me 
 virum pnTstiti, co modo quo ille ganeones ; verum 
 utinam illi possint tam facile exuere asinos, quam ego 
 quicquid est Armintp ; at videte quam insubide, quam 
 incogitate niibi objccerint id, quod ego jure optimo 
 mihi vcrtam glori«?. Namque ct ipse Demostbenes 
 ab temulis adversariisquc parum vir dictus esL Q. 
 itidem Hortensius, omnium oralorum post M. Tullium 
 clarissimus, Dionysia Psaltria appcllatus est a L. Tor- 
 quato. Cui ille, Dionysia, inquit, malo cquidem esse, 
 quam quod tu Torquate, afinaoQ, aypoliaiTOQ, dirpo- 
 ffurof. Ego vero quicquid hoc domini aut domiute 
 est a me longe amolior atque rejicio, nisi in rostris at- 
 que subselliis vcstris, academici, dominari non cupio. 
 Quis jam prohibebit me quin IsDtar tam auspicato et 
 foelici omine, exultemque gaudio me tantis viris ejus- 
 dem opprobrii societate conjunctura ! Interea ut bonos 
 omnes et pnestantes supra invidiam positos arbitror, 
 ita hos lividos adeo omnium infimos puto, ut ne digni 
 sint qui malcdicant. Ad filios itaque pater me converto, 
 quorum cemo speciosum numerum, et video etiam le- 
 pidulos ncbulones occulto nutu me patrcm fateri. De 
 nominibus quH?ritis ? Nolo sub nominibus ferculorum 
 filios meos epulandos vobis traderc, id enim Tantali ct 
 Lycaonis feritati nimium csset affine; nee membrorum 
 insignibo nominibus, nc putetis me pro inlegris homi- 
 nibus tot frusta hominum genuisse; nee ad vinorum 
 genera cos nuncupare volupe est, ne quicquid dixero, 
 sit inpoaliovvaov, et nihil ad Bacchum ; volo ad pra^di- 
 camentorum numerum nominatos, ut sic et ingenuos 
 natales et libcralem vitte rationem exprimam ; et cadera 
 opera curabo, uti omnes ad aliqucm gradum antcmeum 
 obitum provecli sint. Quod ad sales meos nolo ego 
 edentulos, sic enim tritos, et veteres dicatis, et aniculam 
 aliquam tussientem eos expuisse : proinde credo ne- 
 minem sales meos dentatos inculpaturum, nisi qui ipse 
 nullos habct dentes, ideoque reprehensurum, quia non 
 sunt ipsius similes. Et ccrte in proesens ego exoptarcm 
 obtigisse mihi Horatii sortem, nempe ut cssem salsa- 
 mentarii filius, tunc enim sales mihi essent ad unguem, 
 ▼OS etiam sale ita pulchre defricatos dimittercm, ut 
 uostros milites, qui nuper ab insula Reana capessere 
 fugam, non magis poeniterct salis petiti. Non libet 
 mihi in consilio vobis exbibendo, mei gnati, gnavi- 
 ter esse operoso, ne plus operap vobis erudiendis quam 
 gignendis insumpsisse videar, tantum caveat quisque 
 ne ex filio fiat nepos: liberique mei ne colant libc- 
 rum, si me velint patrem. Si qua ego alia prteccpta 
 dedero, ea lingua vernacula proferenda sentio : co- 
 
 naborque pro viribus ut omnia intelligatis. Csterum 
 cxorandi sunt mihi Neptunus, Apollo, Vulcanus, ut 
 omnes dii fabri, uti latera niea vel tabulatis corrobo- 
 rare, vel ferreis laminis circumligare velint. Quin- 
 etiam et supplicanda mihi est dea Ceres, ut quee hume- 
 rum eburneum Pelopi dedcrit, mihi pariter latera pene 
 absumpta reparare dignctur. Nequc enim est cur mire- 
 tur quibuslibet, si post tantum clamorcm et tot filiorum 
 genituram paulo infirmiora sint. In his itaque scnsu 
 Neroniano ultra quam satis est moratus sum : nunc 
 leges academicas vcluti Romuli niuros transilicus a 
 Latinis ad Anglicana transcurro. Vos quibus isttec 
 arrident, aures atque animos nunc mihi attentos date. 
 
 IN SACRARIO HABITA PRO ARTE. 
 
 ORATIO. 
 
 Beatiores reddit Homines Ars quam Ignorant ia. 
 
 Tametsi mihi, auditores, nihil mag^ jucundura sit 
 atque optabile aspectu vestro assiduaque togatorum 
 hominum frequentia, hoc etiam honorifico dicendi 
 munere, quo ego vice una atque altera apud vos non 
 ingrata opera perfunctus sum; tamen, si quod res est 
 fateri liceat, semper ita fit, ut, cum neque meum inge- 
 nium, nee studiorum ratio ab hoc oratorio genere mul- 
 tum abhorreat, ego vix unquam niea voluntate, aut 
 sponte ad dicendara acccdam ; mihi si fuisset integrum, 
 vel huic vesperlino labori baud illibenter equidem par- 
 sissem : nam quoniam ex libris et sententiis ductissi- 
 mnrum hominum sic accepi, nihil vulgare, aut mediocre 
 in oratore, ut nee in poeta posse concedi, eumque 
 oportere, qui orator esse merito et haberi vclit, omnium 
 artium, omnesque scientiae circulari quodam subsidio 
 instructum etconsummatumesse; id quaudo niea aetas 
 non fcrt, malui jam prius eamibi subsidia comparando, 
 longo et acri studio illam laudem veram contendere, 
 quam properato et prsecoci stylo falsam praeripere. 
 Qua animi cogitatione et consilio dum acstuo totus 
 indies, et accendor, nullam unquam sens! gravius im- 
 pcdimentum et moram, hoc frequenti interpellationis 
 damno ; nihil vero magis aluisse ingenium, ct, contra 
 quam in corpore fit, bonam ei valetudinem conservasse 
 erudito et libcrali otio. Hunc ego divinum Hesiodi 
 somnum, hos nocturnos Endymiouis cum Luna con- 
 gressus esse crediderim ; hunc ilium duce Mcrcurio 
 Promethci secessum in altissimas montis Caucasi soli* 
 tudincs, ubi sapientissimus deum atque hominum eva- 
 sit, utpote quem ipse Jupiter de nuptiis Thetidis con- 
 sultum isse dicatur. Testor ipse Jucos, ct dumina, ct 
 dilectas villarum ulmos, sub quibus aestatc proxime 
 prjctcrita (si dcarum arcana eloqui liceat) sumniam 
 cum musis gratiam habuisse me jucunda mcmoria re- 
 colo ; ubi et ego inter rura et semotos saltus velut 
 occulto aevo crescere mihi potuisse visus sum. Hie 
 quoque eandcm mihi delilesccndi copiam utique spe- 
 rasscm, nisi iutcmpestive prorsus interposuisset so im- 
 
PROLUSIONES ORATORLE. 
 
 867 
 
 portuna haec dicendi molestia, quae sic ingrate arcebat 
 sacros somnos, sic torsit animuni iu aliis dcfixuni, et 
 inter praeruptas artium difficultates sic impedivit et 
 oneri fuit, uteg'o amissa omiii spe persequcndae quietis 
 moestus cogitare coRperim, quam procul abessera ab ea 
 tranquillitate quam inilii prinio litene pollicebantur, 
 acerbam fore inter hos sestus et jactationes vitam, sntius 
 esse vel omnes artes didicisse. Itaque vix compos 
 mei, temerarium coepi consilium laudandae ignorantia), 
 quae nihil prorsus habcrat harum turbarum ; proposui- 
 que in certamen utra suos cultores beatiores redderct 
 Ars an Ignorantia ? Nescio quid est, noluit me meura 
 sive fatum, sive genius ab incepto Musarum amore 
 discedere ; imo et ipsa cseca sors tanquam derepente 
 prudens providensque facta hoc idem noluissc visa est; 
 citius opinione mea Ignorantia suum nacta est patro- 
 iium, niihi Ars relinquitur defendenda. Gaudeo sane 
 sic illusum mc, nee me pudet vcl ccecam Fortunam 
 mihi restituisse oculos ; hoc illi nomine gratias habeo. 
 Jam saltcm illam laudcre licet, cujus ab amplcxu di- 
 vulsus cram, et quasi absentis desidcrium sermone 
 consolari : jam hiec non plane intcrruptio est, quis 
 enim interpcllari sc dicat, id laudando et tuendo quod 
 amat, quod approbat, quod niagnopere assequi vclit. 
 Veruni, auditorcs, sic ego existimo in re mcdiocriter 
 laudabili maxime elucere vim cloqucntiue ; quae sum- 
 mum laudem habent, vix ullo modo, ullis limitibus 
 orationis contineri posse, in his ipsa sibi officii copia, 
 ct rerum multitudine comprimit et coangustat expan- 
 dentem se elocutionis pompam ; hac ego argumenti 
 foecunditate niuiia laboro, ipsfp me vires imbecillum, 
 arma inermem reddunt ; delectus itaque faciendus, 
 aut certe enumcranda verius quam tractanda quao tot 
 nostram causam validis prssidiis firmam ac munitam 
 statuunt; nunc illud mibi unice elaborandum video, 
 ut ostendam quid in utraque re, et quantum ha- 
 bcat momentum ad illam in quam omnes ferimur, 
 beatitudinem ; in qua contentione facili certe ncgo- 
 tio versabitur oratio nostra, ncc ad mod urn esse puto 
 metuendum quid possit scientite inscitia, arti ignorantia 
 objiccrc ; quamvis hoc ipsum quod objiciat, quod verba 
 faciat, quod in hac celebritatc literatissima? concionis 
 vel hiscere audcat, id totum ab arte precario vel potius 
 emendicato habet. Notum hoc esse rcor, auditores, et 
 receptum omnibus, magnum mundi opificcm, caetera 
 omnia cum fluxu et caduca posuisset, honiini proeter id 
 quod mortalc esset, divinam quandam auram, et quasi 
 partem sui immiscuisse, immortalcm, iiidelcbilem, lethi 
 et interitus immuncm; qucc postquam in terris ali- 
 quandiu tanquam coelestis hospcs, caste, sanctequc pe- 
 regrinata esset, ad nativum coelum sursum evibraretse, 
 debitamque ad sedem et patriam rcverteretur: proinde 
 nihil merito recenseri posse in causis nostrce beatitudi- 
 uis, nisi id et illam sempiternam,et hanccivilem vitam 
 aliqua ratione respiciat. Ea propemodum sufTragiis 
 omnium sola est contemplatio, qua sine administro 
 corpore seducta et quasi conglobata in se mens nostra 
 incredibili voluptate ininiortalium deorumsevum imita- 
 tur, qute tamen sine arte tota infrugifera est et inju- 
 cunda, imo nulla. Quis cnim rerum humanarum divi- 
 narumque idias intucri digne possit aut considerare, 
 
 quarum ferme nihil nosse queat, nisi animura per 
 artem et discipliuara imbutum et excultum habucrit; 
 ita prorsus ei cui artes desunt, interclusus esse videtur 
 omnis aditus ad vitam beatam : ipsam banc auimara 
 altte sapientife capacem et prope inexplebilem, aut 
 frustra nobis Deus, aut in posnam dedisse videtur, nisi 
 maxime voluisset nos ad excelsani earum rerum cogni- 
 tionem sublimes eniti, quarum tantum ardorem natura 
 humante menti injecerat. Circumspicite quaqua po- 
 testis universam banc rerum faciem, illam sibi in glo- 
 riam tanti operis sumnius artifcx icdificavit; quanto 
 altius ejus rationem insignem, ingentem fabricam, va- 
 rietatem admirabilem investigamus, quod sine arte non 
 possumus, tanto plus authorem ejus admiratione nostra 
 celebramus, et veluti quodam plausu persequimur, quod 
 illi pergratum esse, certum ac persuasissimum habea- 
 mus. Ecquid, auditores, putabimus tanta immensi 
 oetheris spatia teternis accensa atque distincta ignibus, 
 tot sustinere concitatissimos motus, tanta obire conver- 
 sionum itinera ob hoc unum ut lucernam pra?beant ig- 
 navis et pronis bominibus? et quasi facem pneferant 
 nobis infra torpentibus et desidiosis ? nihil inesse tarn 
 multiplici fructuum herbarumque proventui, prsEter- 
 quam fragilem viriditatis ornatum? Profecto sitam in- 
 justi rerum aestimatores erimus, ut nihil ultra crassum 
 sensus intuitum persequamur, non modo scrviliter et 
 abjecte, sed inique et malitiose cum benigno numine 
 egisse videbimur; cui per inertiam nostram, et quasi 
 per invidiam titulorura magna pars, et tantte potentice 
 veneratio penitus intorcidet. Si igitur dux et incho- 
 atrix nobis ad beatitudinem sit eruditio, si potcntissimo 
 numini jussa ct complacita, et ejus cum laude maxime 
 conjuncta, certe non potest sui cultores non efficere vel 
 summe beatos. Neque cnim ncscius sum, auditores, 
 contemplationem banc qua tendimus ad id quod summe 
 expetendum est, nullum habere posse veroe beatitudinis 
 gustum sine integritate vitee, et morum innocentia; 
 multos autem vel insigniter eruditos homines nefarios 
 extitisse, prceterea inr, odio, et pravis cupiditatibus 
 obedientes; multos e contra literarum rudes viros pro- 
 bos atque optimos se pncstilisse; quid ergo? Nura 
 beatior ignorantia ? mininie vero. Sic itaque est, au- 
 ditores, paucos fortasse doctrina praestabiles suae civi- 
 tatis corruptissimi mores et illiteratorum hominum col- 
 luvics in nequitiam pertraxere, unius perdocti ct pru- 
 dentis viri industria multos mortales ab arte impolitos 
 in officio continuit : nimirum una domus, vir unus arte 
 et sapientia praeditus, velut magnum dei munus toti 
 reipub. satis esse possit ad bonam frugem. Cseterum 
 ubi nullae vigent artes, ubi omnis cxterminatur eruditio, 
 ne ullum quidem ibi viri boni vestigium est, grassatur 
 immanitas atque horrida barbaries; hujus rei testem 
 appello non civitatem unam, aut provinciam, non gen- 
 tem, sed quartam ovbis terrarum partem Europam, qua 
 tota superioribus aliquot saeculis omnes bonse artes in- 
 terierant, omnes tunc temporis academias preesides diu 
 Mus£E reliquerant; pervaserat omnia, et occuparat caeca 
 inertia, nihil audiebatur in scholis praeter insulsa stu- 
 pidissimorum monachorum dogmata, togam scilicet 
 nacta, per vacua rostra et pulpita, per squaleutes ca- 
 thedras jactitavit se prophanum et informe monstrum, 
 
8o8 
 
 PROLUsioNEs oratorio:. 
 
 Igfnorautia. Turn primum lugere ]iietas, et exting>i)i 
 religio et pessuiu ire, adeo ut ex g^ravi vulnere, sero 
 atqtie cegre vix in hunc usque diem convaluerit. 
 At vero, auditores, hoc in pbilosophia ratuni, et an- 
 tiquum esse satis constat, omnis artis, oinnisque sci- 
 entiie perceptioneni solius intellectus esse, virtutum 
 ac probitatis donium atque delubruin esse voluntatem. 
 Cum autem omnium judicio intellectus humanus c(c- 
 teris aninii facultatibus princeps et moderator praelu- 
 ceat, turn et ipsam voluntatem caecam alioqui et ob- 
 scuram suo splendore tcmperat et collustrat, ilia veluti 
 luna, luce lucet aliena. Quare demus hoc sane, et 
 largiamur ullro, potiorem esse ad beatam ritam virtu- 
 tera sine arte, quam artem sine virtute ; at ubi semel 
 foelici nexu invicem consociatae fuerint, ut maxime 
 debent, et saepissimc contingit, turn vero statim vultu 
 erecto atque arduo superior longe apparet, atque emi- 
 cat scientia, cum rege et imperatore intellectu in 
 excelso locat se, inde quasi humile et sub pedibus 
 spectat inferius quicquid agitur apud voluntatem ; et 
 deinceps in eetcrnum excellentiam et claritudinem, 
 niajestatemque divinse proximam facile sibi asserit. 
 Age descendamus ad civilcm vitam, quid in privata, 
 quid in publica proficiat utraque videamus ; taceo de 
 arte quod sit pulcberrimum juventutishonestamentum, 
 eetatis virilis firmum praesidium, scnectutis oniamcn- 
 tum atque solatium. Pr.ietereo et illud nuiltos apud 
 suos nobiles, etiam P. R. principes post egregia faci- 
 nora, et rerum gestarura gloriam ex contentione et 
 strepitu ambitionis ad literarum studiura tanquam in 
 portum ac dulce perfugiura se recepisse ; intellexere 
 nimirum senes praestantissimi jam reliquam vitae par- 
 tem optimam optime oportere collocari; erant summi 
 inter homines, volebant his artibus non postrcrai esse 
 inter deos; petierant honores, nunc immortalitatem ; 
 in debellandis imperii hostibus longe alia militia usi 
 sunt, cum morte maxirao g-eneris humani malo con- 
 flictaturi, ecce quae tela sumpserint, quas legiones 
 conscripserint, quo commeatu instructi fuerint. Atqui 
 maxima pars civilis beatitudinis in humana societate 
 et conlrahendis amicitiis fere constituta est ; doctiores 
 plerosque difficiles, inurbanos, moribus incompositis, 
 nulla fandi gratia ad conciliandos hominum animos 
 multi queruntur: fateor equidem, qui in studiis fere 
 seclusus atque abditus est, multo promptius esse Deos 
 alioqui quam homines, sive quod perpctuo fere domi 
 est apud superos infrequens rerum humanarum et vere 
 peregrinus, sive quod assidua rerum divinarum cogita- 
 tione mens quasi grandior facta in tantis corporis 
 angustiis difficulter agitans se minus habilis sit ad 
 exquisitiores salutationum gesticulationes ; atsidignae 
 atque idonesecontigerint amicitise nemo sanclius colit; 
 quid enim jucundius, quid cogitari potest bcatius illis 
 doctorum et gravissimorum hominum colloquiis, qualia 
 sub ilia platano plurima saepe fertur habuisse divinus 
 Plato, digua certe quae totius confluentis generis hu- 
 mani arrecto excipiantur silentio; at stolide confabu- 
 lan, alios aliis ad luxum et libidines morcm gerere ea 
 demum ignorantiae est amicitia, aut certe amicitire 
 ignorantia. Quinetiam si hoec civilis l)catitudo in 
 iioncsta libcraquc oblectatione animi consistit, ea pro- 
 
 fecto doctrinoe et arti reposita est voluptas, quae ca;- 
 teras omnes facile superet ; quid omnem coeli siderum- 
 que morem tenuisse ? omnis aeris motus et vicissitu- 
 dines, sive augusto fulminum sonitu, aut crinitis ardo- 
 ribus inertes animos perterrefaciat, sive in nivcm et 
 grandincm obrigescat, sive denique in pluvia et rore 
 mollis et placidus descendat ; tum alternantcs ventos 
 perdidicisse, omnesque halitus aut vaporcs quos terra 
 aut marc eructat ; stirpium deindc vires occultas, nie- 
 tallorumque caluisse, singulorum etiam animantium 
 naturam, et si fieri potest, scnsus intcllcxisse ; hiiic 
 accuratissimam corporis humani fabricam ct mediii- 
 nam; postremo divinam animi vim et vigorem, et si 
 qua dc illis qui lares, et genii, et doemonia vocantur 
 ad nos pervenit cognitio ? Infiiiita ad haec alia, quo- ^ 
 rum bonam partem didicissc licuerit, antequam ego J 
 cuncta enumeraverim. Sic tandem, auditores, cum 
 omnimoda serael eruditio suos orbes confecerit, non 
 contentus iste spiritus tenebricoso hoc ergastulo eous- 
 que late aget se, donee et ipsum mundum, et ultra 
 longe divina quadam magnitudine expatiata comple- 
 vcrit. Tum demum plerique casus atque eventus 
 rerum ita subito emergent, ut ei, qui banc arcem sa- 
 pientioe adeptus est, nihil pene incautum, nihil for- 
 tuitum in vita possit accidere ; videbitur sane is esse, 
 cujus imperio et dominationi astra obtcmperent, terra 
 et mare obsecundent, vcnti tempestatesque morigerac 
 sint; cui denique ipsa parens natura in deditioneni 
 se tradiderit, plane ac si quis deus abdicato mundi 
 imperio, huic jus ejus, et leges, administrationem- 
 que tanquam praefectori cuidam commisisset. Hue 
 quanta accedit animi voluptas, per omnes gentium his- 
 torias et loca pervolare regnorum, nationum, urbium, 
 populorum status mutationesque ad prudentiam, et 
 mores animadvertere : hoc est, auditores, omni tetati 
 quasi vivus interesse, et velut ipsius temporis nasci 
 contemporaneus; profecto cum nominis nostri gloriie 
 in futurum prospeximus, hoc erit ab utero vitam retro 
 extendere et porrigere, et nolenti fato anteactam quan- 
 dam immortalitatem extorquere. Mitto illud cui quid 
 potest a?quiparari ? Multarum gentium oraculum esse, 
 domum quasi templum habere, esse quos reges et res- 
 publicac ad se invitent, cujus visendi gratia fiuitimique 
 exterique concurrant, quem alii vel semel vidisse quasi 
 quoddam bene meritum glorientur; hiec studiorum 
 praemia, hos fructus eruditio suis cultoribus in privata 
 vita praestare, et potest, et saepe solet. At quid in pub- 
 lica ? Sane ad majestatis fasiigium paucos evexit laiis 
 doctrinse, nee probitatis multo plures. Nimirum, illi 
 apud se regno fruuntur, omni terrarum ditione longe 
 gloriosiori: et quis sine ambitionis infamia geminum 
 affectat regnum ? addam hoc tanien amplius, duos tan- 
 tum adhuc fuisse qui quasi ccelitus datum uuiversum 
 terrarum orbem habuere, et supra omnes roges et d}'- 
 nastas aequale diis ipsis partiti sunt imperium, Alex- 
 andrumnempe Magnum etOctavium Ca*sarem,eosquc 
 ambos philosophiaj alumnos. Perinde ac si quoddam 
 clcctiunis exemplar divinitus exhibitum essct homini- 
 bus, quali potissimum viro clavum et hnbenas rerum 
 credi oporterct. At niultie resp. sine litcris, rebus ges- 
 tis ot opnlcntia claruere. Spartanorum quidcm, qui 
 
PROLUSIONES ORATORIiE. 
 
 859 
 
 ad literarum studium contulerint se, pauci memoran- 
 tur; Romani intra iirbis mocnia philosophiatn sero re- 
 cepcrunt ; at illi leg'islatore usi sunt Lycurg-o, qui et 
 philosopbus fuit et poctarum adeo studiosus, ut Homeri 
 scripta per loniam sparsa summa cura primus colleg'e- 
 tit. Hi post varies in urbe raotiis et perturbationes 
 segre se sustentare valentes, ab Athenis ea tempestate 
 artium studio florentissimis, leges deceravirales, quae 
 et duodecim tabuhe dictae sunt, missis legatis emendi- 
 carunt. Quid si hodiernos Turcas per opima Asite 
 regna rerum late potitos omnis litcraturoe ignaros nobis 
 objiciant ? Equidem in ea repub. (si tamen crudelissi- 
 morum hominum per vim et caedcm arrepta potentia, 
 quos unum in locum sceleris consensus convocavit, con- 
 tinuo respub. dicenda sit) quod in ea ad exemplum in- 
 sig-ne sit nil audivi, parere vitte commoda, tueri parta, 
 id naturte debemus, non arti ; aliena libidinose invadcre, 
 sibi mutuo ad rapinam auxilio esse, in scelus conjurare, 
 id natuHB pravitati. Jusquoddam apud cosexercetur; 
 iicc mirum : cteterte virtutes facile fugantur, justitia 
 vere regia, ad sui cultum impelli^ sine qua vel injus- 
 tissimae socictates cito dissolverentur. Nee omiscrim 
 tamen, Saracenos Turcarum propemodum conditorcs 
 non armis magis quam bonarum literarum studiis im- 
 perium suum propagasse. Sed si antiquitatcm repeta- 
 mus, inveniemus non institutas modo ab arte, sed fun- 
 datas olim fuisse respublicas. Antiquissimi quique 
 gentium indigente in sylvis et montibus errasse dicun- 
 tur, ferarum ritu pabuli coramoditatem sequuti, vultu 
 erecti, csetera proni, putasses proeter formae dignitatem 
 jiibil non commune cum bestiis 'labuisse; eadem antra, 
 iidem specus coelum et frigora defendebant; nulla tunc 
 urbs, non cedes marmoreoe, uon arte deorum, aut fana 
 coUucebant, non illic fas sanctum, nondum jura in foro 
 dicebantur, nulla in nuptiis ticda, non chorus, nullum 
 in mensa genial! carmen, nullum solenne funeris, non 
 luctus, vix tumulus defunctos bonestabat; nulla con- 
 vivia, null! ludi, inauditus citharae sonus, ipsa tunc 
 omnia aberant, quibus jam inertia ad luxum abutitur. 
 Cum repente artes et scientiae agrestia hominum pectora 
 ccelitus afHabant, et imbutos notitia sui in una mcenia 
 pellexere. Quaniobrem certe quibus autboribus urbes 
 ipstB primum conditte sunt, dein stabilitae legibus, 
 post consiliis munitae, poterunt iisdem etiam gubcr- 
 natoribus quam diutissime foelicissimcque consistere. 
 Quid autem ignorantia ? sentio, auditores, caligat, 
 stupet, procul est, effugia circumspicit, vitara brevem 
 queritur, artem longam ; immo vero tollamus duo 
 magna studiorum nostrorum impedimenta, alterum 
 artis male traditse, alterum nostras ignaviee, pace Ga- 
 leni, seu quis alius ille fuit ; totum contra erit, vita 
 longa ars brevis ; nihil arte prtEstabilius, adeoque 
 laboriosius, nihil nobis segnius, nihil remissius ; ob 
 operariis et agricolis nocturna et antelucana industria 
 vinci nospatimur; illi in re sordida ad vilem victiim 
 magis inipigri sunt, quam nos in nobilissima ad vitam 
 beatam ; nos cum ad altissimum atque optimum in 
 humanis rebus aspiremus, nee studium ferre possumus, 
 nee inertiee dedecus; immo pudet esse id, quod non' 
 haberi nos indignaraur. At valetudini cavemus a 
 vigiliis et acri studio : turpe dictu, animum incultuni 
 
 negligimus, dum corpori raetuimus, cujus vires quis 
 non imminuat, quo majores acquirantur animo? quan- 
 quam certe qui haec causantur perditissimi plerique, 
 abjeeta omni temporis, ingenii, valetudinis cura, comes- 
 sando, belluae marinte ad morem potando, inter scorta 
 et aleam pernoctando, nihilo se infirmiores factos que- 
 runtur. Cum itaque sic se afBciant atque assuescant, 
 ut ad omnem turpitudinem strenui atque alacres; ad 
 omnes virtutis actiones et ingenii hebetes et languidi 
 sint, culpam in naturam aut vitae brevitatem falso et 
 inique transferunt. Quod si modeste ac temperanter 
 vitam degendo, primes ferocientis o^tatis impetus ra- 
 tione et pertinaci studiorum assiduitate raalleraus edo- 
 mare, coelestem animi vigorem ab omni contagione et 
 inquinamento purum et intactum servantes ; incredi- 
 bile esset, auditores, nobis post annos aliquot respici- 
 entibus quantum spatium confecisse, quam ingens 
 aequor eruditionis cursu placido navigasse videremur. 
 Cui et hoc egregium afferet compendium, si quis norit 
 et artes utiles, et utilia in artibus recte seligere. Quot 
 sunt imprimis grammaticorum et rhetorum nugae 
 aspeniabiles ? audias in tradenda arte sua illos bar- 
 bare loquentes, hos infantissimos. Quid logica ? Re- 
 gina quidera ilia artium si pro dignitate tractetur: at 
 heu quanta est in ratione insania! non hie homines, 
 sed plane acanthides carduis et spinis vescuntur. O 
 dura messorum ilia! quid repetam ilium, quam meta- 
 physicam vocant peripatetic], non artem, locupletissi- 
 mam quippe me ducit magnorum virorum authoritas, 
 non artem inquam plerunique, sed infames scopulos, 
 sed Lernam quandam sophismatum ad naufragium et 
 pestem excogitatam : hsec ilia qute supra memiui 
 togatae ignorantiae vulnera sunt ; haec eadem cucullo- 
 rum scabies etiam ad naturalcm philosophiam late per- 
 manavit: vexat mathematicos demonstrationum inanis 
 gloriola; his omnibus qute nihil profutura sunt merito 
 contemptis et amputatis, admirationi erit quot annos 
 integros lucrabimur. Quid ! quod jurisprudentiam 
 praesertim nostram turbata methodus obscurat, et quod 
 pejus est, sermo nescio quis, Americanus credo, aut ne 
 humanus quidem, quo cum ssepe leguleios nostros 
 claniitantes audiverim, dubitare, snbiit quibus non esset 
 humanum os et loquela, an et his ulli affectus humani 
 adesscnt ; vereor certe ut possit nos sancta justitia 
 respicere, vereor ut querelas ullo tempore nostras aut 
 injurias intelligat quorum lingua loqui nesciat. Qua- 
 propter, auditores, si nullum k pueritia diem sine proe- 
 ceptis et diligenti studio vacuum ire sinamus, si in 
 arte, aliena supervacanea otiosa sapienter omittanius, 
 certe intra aetatem Alexandri Magni majus quiddam et 
 gloriosius illo terrarum orbe subegerimus : tantumque 
 aberit quo minus brevitatem vitce, aut artis toediura in- 
 cusemus, ut flere et lachrymari promptius nobis futu- 
 rum credam, ut illi olim, non plures superesse mundos 
 de quibus triumphemus. Expirat ignorantia, jam 
 nltinios videte conatus et morientera luctam; mortales 
 prcecipue gloria tangi, antiques illos illustres longa 
 annorum series atque decursus eum celebrarit, nos 
 decrepito mundi senio, nos properante rerura omnium 
 occasu premi, si quid prcedicaudum aeterna laude reli- 
 querimns, nostrum nomen in angusto versari, cujus ad 
 
860 
 
 PROLUSIONES ORATORIO. 
 
 niemoriain vix ulla posteritas succedat, frustra jam tot 
 libros et preclara iii^enii monumenta edi quae vicinus 
 mundi rog^us cremarit. Non inficior illud esse posse 
 verisimile ; at vero non morari gloriam cum bene fece- 
 ris, id supra omnem gloriam est. Quam nihil beavit 
 istos inanis bominura sermo cujus ad abscntes et mor- 
 tuos nulla voluptas, nullus sensus peryenire potuit? 
 nos sempiternum cevum cxpectemus quod nostnmim 
 in terris saltern benefactorum nicmoriam nunquam 
 dclebit; in quo, si quid hie pulchrc meruimus, prce- 
 sentcs ipsi audiemus, in quo qui prius in hac vita con- 
 tincntissime acta onine tempus bonis artibus dederint, 
 iisque homines adjuverint, eos singulari et summa 
 supra omncs scientia auctos esse futuros multi gra- 
 viter philosophati sunt. Jam cavillari desinant ig- 
 navi qufccunquc adbuc nobis in scientiis incerta atque 
 perplexa sint, quae tamen non tarn scientise, quam 
 homini attribuenda sunt ; hoc est, auditores, quod et 
 illud nescire Socraticum et timidam scepticorum hoesi- 
 tationem aut refellit, aut consolatur, aut compensat. 
 Jam Tcro tandem aliquando quoenam ignorantiae bea- 
 titudo ? sua sibi habere, a nemine leedi, omni cura et 
 molestia supersedere, vitara secure et quiete, quoad po- 
 test, traduccre ; verum haec feroe aut volucris cujuspiam 
 vita est, quse in altis et penitissimis sylvis in tuto nidu- 
 lum coelo quamproximum habet, pullos educit, sine 
 aucupii metu in pastum volat, diluculo, vesperique 
 suaves modules emodulatur. Quid ad hsec desideratur 
 sethereus ille animi vigor ? Exuat ergo hominem, dabi- 
 tur sane Circaeum poculum, ad bestias prona emigret: 
 ad bestias vero ? at illae tam turpem hospitem excipere 
 nolunt, si quidem illce sive inferioris cujusdam rationis 
 participes, quod plurimi disputarunt, sive pollcnti quo- 
 dam instinctu sagaces, aut artcs, aut artium simile quod- 
 dam apud se exercent. Namque et canes in persequenda 
 fera dialecticse non ignaros esse narratur apud Plutar- 
 chum, et si ad trivia forte ventum sit, plane disjuncto uti 
 gyllogismo. Lusciniam veluti prsecepta qucedam musiccs 
 pullis suis tradere solere refert Aristoteles ; unaquaeque 
 
 fere bestia sibi medica est, multoe etiam insignia medi- 
 cinae documenta hominibus dedere. Ibis ^gj^ptia alvi 
 purgandse utilitatem, hippopotamus detrahendi san- 
 guinis ostendit. Quis dicat astronomiae expertes a qui- 
 bus tot ventorum, imbrium, inundationem, serenitatis 
 preesagia petantur ? Quam prudenti et severa ctliica 
 supcrvolantcs montem Taurum anseres obturato lapillis 
 ore periculosee loquacitati moderantur; multa formicis 
 res domestica, civitas apibus debet ; excubias habendi, 
 triquetram aciem ordinandi rationem arsmilitaris gruum 
 esse agnoscit. Sapiuntaltius bestiae, quam ut suo coetu 
 et consortio ignorantiam dignentur; infcriusdetrudunt. 
 Quid ergo ? ad truncos ct saxa. At ipsi trunci, ipsa 
 arbusta, totumque nemus ad doctissima Orphci carmina 
 solutis quondam radicibus festinavere. Sacpe etiam 
 mysteriorum capaces, ut quercus olim Dodoncoe, di- 
 vina oracula rcddidere. Saxa etiam sacrae poctarum 
 voci docilitate quadam respondent: an et hcec asper- 
 nantura se ignorantiam? Num igitur infra omne bru- 
 torum genus, infra stipitcs et saxa, infra omnem naturae 
 ordinem licebit in illo Epicureorura non esse requies- 
 cere? Ne id quidem: quandoquidem necesse est, quod 
 pejus, quod vilius, quod magis miserum, quod inflmuni 
 est, esse ignorantiam ? Ad vos venio, auditores intelli- 
 gentissimi, nam et ipse si nihil dixissem, vos mihi tot non 
 tam argumenta, quam tela video, quae ego in ignoran- 
 tiam usque ad perniciem contorquebo. Ego jam clas- 
 sicum cecini, vos ruite in prselium ; summovete a vobis 
 hostem banc, prohibete vestris porticibus et ambulacris; 
 banc si aliquid esse patiamini, vos ipsi illud eritis, quod 
 nostis omnium esse miserrimum. Vestra itaque haec 
 omnium causa est. Quare si ego jam multo fortasse pro- 
 lixior fuerim, quam pro consuetudine hujus loci liceret, 
 pr«eterquam quod ipsa rei dignitas hoc postulabat, da- 
 bitis et vos mihi veniam, opinor, judices, quandoqui- 
 dem, tanto magis intelligitis in vos quo sira animo, 
 quam vestri studiosus, quos labores, quas vigilias ves- 
 tra causa non rccusarim. Dixi. 
 
ARTIS LOGICiE PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 ADJECTA EST TRAXIS ANALYTICA, ET PETRI RAMI VITA. 
 LIBRIS DUOBUS. 
 
 [riKST POBLUHKD I6rS.] 
 
 PILEFATIO. 
 
 QuANQUAM pliiIosophorummulti,suopteinsfeniofreti, contempsisse artemlogicam dicuntur, eorum tamen quivel 
 sibi, vel aliis propter in<renium aut judicium natura minus acre ac perspicax utilissimam esse sibique dilijjenterex- 
 colendamjudicarunt, optima est de eameritus, ute«To quidem cum Sidneionostro setitio, Petrus Ramus. Caeteri 
 fere physica, ethica, theolog-ica lo^icis, effrcenata quadam licentia, confundunt. Sed noster dum brevitatem sectatus 
 estnimis relig-iose,non plane luci,sed ubertati tamen lucis.quaein tradendaarte,non parca,sed plena etcopiosa esse 
 debet, videtur defuisse : id quod tot in eum scripta commentaria testantur. Satius itaque sum arbitratus, qute ad prac- 
 cepta artispleniusintellig'enda,exipsius Ramischoliisdialecticisaliorumquecommentariisnecessariopetendasunt, 
 ea in ipsum corpus artis, nisi sicubi dissentio, transferre atque intexere. Quid enim brcvitate consequimur, si lux 
 aliunde est petenda? Praestat una opera, uno simul in loco artem longiusculam cum luce conjungere, quam 
 minore cum luce brevissimam aliunde illustrare ; cum hoc non niinore negfotio multoque minus commode hac- 
 tenus fiat, quam si ars ipsa ut nunc suaptecopia se fuse explicaverit. Quam artis tradendne rationem uberiorem 
 ipse etiam Ramus in aritlimetica et jjeometria aliquanto post a se editis, edoctus jam long^iore usu, secutus est ; 
 suasque ipse rcf^ulas interjccto commentariolo explanavit, non aliis explanandas reliquit. Quorum cum pleri- 
 que nescio an nimio commentandi studio elati, certe omnis methodi quod in iis mirum sit, obliti, omnia permis- 
 ccant, postrema primis, axiomata syllofjfjsmos eorumque rejjulas primis quibusque simplicium argumcntorum 
 capitibus intrerere solcant, unde calig'inem potius disccutibus offundi quam lucem ullam praeferri necesse est, id 
 mibi cavendum imprimis duxi, ut nequid prceriperem, nequid praepostere quasi traditum jam et intellectum, ne- 
 quid nisi suo loco atting-erem ; nihil veritus ne cui forte strictior in explicandis pra?ceptis existimer, dum perpen- 
 denda mag°isquam percurrenda proponere studebam. Nee tamen iis facile assenserim, qui paucitatem regularura 
 objiciunt Ramo, quarum permultae etiam ex Aristotele ab aliis collectce, nedum quae ab ipsis cumulo sunt ad- 
 jectte, vel inccrtae vel futiles, discentem impediunt atque onerant potius quam adjuvant : ac siquid habent utili- 
 tatis aut salis, id ejusmodi est, ut suopte ingenio quivis facilius percipiat, quam tot canonibus memorite man- 
 datis, addlscat. Multoque minus constitui, canones quidvis potius quam logicos, a theologis infercire; quos 
 illi, quasi subornatos in suum usum, tanquam e media logica petitos, depromant de Deo, divinisque hjpostasibus 
 et sacramentis; quorum ratione, quo raodo est ab ipsis informata, nihil est a logica, adeoque ab ipsa ratione, 
 alienius. 
 
 Prius auteni quam opus ipsum aggredior, quoniam ars logica omnium prima est suisque finibus latissime patet, 
 prtemittam quasdam de arte generalia, deque artium distributione; artem deiudeipsam persequar: ad extremum, 
 analytica quaedam exerapla, sive usum artis, exercitationis causa, iis quibus opus est, et in eo genere excrcere se 
 libet, exhibebo : quibus opus est inquam ; quibus enim ingenium per se viget atque pollet, iis ut in hoc genere 
 analjtico cum labore nimio ac miseria se torqueant, non sum author. Ad id enim ars adhibetur, ut naturam 
 juvet, non ut impediat: adhibita nirais anxie nimisque subtiliter, et praescrtim ubi opus non est, ingenium per 
 se jam satis acutum, obtundit potius quam acuit; ita plaTie ut in medicina remediorum usus vel nimius vel 
 non neccssarius, valetudinem debilitat potius quam roborat. Quod autem Aristotelis alioruniquc veterum 
 auctoritatem ad singulas fere logicae regulas adjungimus, id quidem in tradenda arte supervacuura fuisset, nisi 
 
862 ARTIS LOGICJ; PLExMOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 novitatis suspicio, quae Petro Ramo hactenus potissimura obfiiit, adduct\s ipsis vetcrum authorum tcstimoiiiis, 
 csset amolicnda. 
 
 Artiuni omnium quasi corpus et comprehensio lyKVKXowaiSiia Grtece, i. e. eniditionis circuitus quidam in se re- 
 deuntis, adeoque in se absolutoe atque perfectae, vel pliilosophia dicilur. Htec cum sapientiie stadium proprie 
 significat, turn vulgo artium omnium vel doctrinam, vel scientiam : doctrinam, cum proecepta artium tradit ; 
 scientiaui, cum ai-s, qute habitus est quidam mentis, preeceptis illis percipitur, quasique possidctur. Eodem 
 modo et artis sig^nificatio distinguitur : cum doctrinam significat, de qua nobis potissimum hie est agendum, est 
 ordinata prsRceptorum exemplorumque comprehensio sive methodus, qua quidvis utile docetur. 
 
 Artis materia prtEcepta sunt: quae qualia esse debeant, artis logicoD, quam nunc tradimus, proprium est suo 
 loco prcescribere. 
 
 Forma sive ipsa ratio artis, non tam est proeceplorum illorum methodica dispositio, quam utilis alicujus rci 
 pra-ceptio: per id enim quod docet potius, quam per ordinem docendi, ars est id quod est: quod ex cujusquc 
 artis definitione perspicitur, ut infra ostendetur. 
 
 PrtEceptorum artis tria genera sunt: duo praecipua "definitiones et distributioncs;" quarum doctrinam ge- 
 ueralem logica etiam loco idoneo sibi vendicat; tertium, minus principale, " consectarium " nominatur; cstque 
 proprietatis alicujus explicatio, ex definitione fere deducta. 
 
 Exempla sunt quibus praeceptionum Veritas demonstratur, ususque ostenditur: suntque, ut scite Plato, quasi 
 obsides sermonum : quod enim praecepto in genere docetur, id exemplo in specie confirmatur. 
 
 Efficiens artis primarius neminem reor dubitare quin sit Deus, author omnis sapieutiae : id olim philosophos 
 etiam non fugit. 
 
 Causae ministrae fuerunt homines divinitus edocti, ingenioque praestantes; qui olim singulas artes invenerunt. 
 Inveniendi autem ratio eadem prope fuit quae pingendi ; ut enim in pictura duo sunt, exemplum sive archetypus, 
 et ars pingendi, sic in arte invenienda, archetypo respondet natura sive usus, et exemplum hominum peritorum, 
 arti pictoris respondet logica ; saltem naturalis, quae facultas ipsa rationis in mente hominis est; juxta illud 
 rulgo dictum, ars imitatur naturam. 
 
 Ratio autem sive logica, primum ilia naturalis, deinde artificiosa, quatuor adhibuit sibi quasi adjutores, teste 
 Aristot. Metaphys. 1, c. 1, sensum, observationem, inductionem, et experientiam. Cum enim praecepta artiuni 
 geaeralia sint, ea nisi ex singularibus, singularia nisi sensu percipi non possunt : sensus sine observatione, quae 
 exempla singula memoriae committat, obserratio sine inductione, quae singularia quam plurima inducendo gene- 
 ralem aliquam regulam constituat, inductio sine experientia, quae singulorum omnium convenientiam in commune 
 et quasi consensum judicet, nihil juvat. Hinc recte Polus apud Platonem in Gorgia, " experientia artem peperit, 
 imperitia fortunam," i. e. praecepta fortuita, adeoque incerta. Et Aristot. Prior. 1, c. 30, " cuj usque rei principia 
 tradcre, experientiae est: sic astrologica experientia ilJius scientiae principia suppeditavit." Et Manilius; 
 
 " Per varies usus artem experientia fecit, 
 Exemplo monstrante viam " 
 
 Et Cicero ; " omnia quae sunt conclusa nunc artibus, dispersa quondam ct dissipata fuerunt, donee adhibita 
 hsec ars est, quae res dissolutas divulsasque conglutinaret et ratione quadam constringeret." Ea ars logica est, 
 Tel haec saltem naturalis, quam ingenitam habemus, vel ilia artificiosa, quam mox tradimus : haec enim praecepta 
 artis invenit ac docet. Hactenus de eflicientibus causis artium. 
 
 Forma artis, ut supra dixi, non tam praeceptorum dispositio est, quam praeceptio ipsa rei alicujus utilis, eadem- 
 que est finis. Quemadmodum, enim, non tam praeceptorum logicorum methodica dispositio quam ipsuni bene 
 disserere, et forma logicae et finis est, ut infra docebitur, ita in genere non solum praeceptorum dispositio, scd 
 ipsa rei utilis prtcceptio, forma artis et simul finis est; quod autem praecipitur, id esse utile in hominum vita 
 debere, quod Grasci (SibxptXtQ vocant, omnes conscntiunt; indignamque esse artis nomine, quae non bonum ali- 
 quod sive utile ad vitam hominum, quod idem quoque honestum sit, sibi proponat, ad quod omnia pnccepta 
 artis referantur; adeoque formam artis esse rei alicujus utilis praeceptionem, per quam scilicet ars est id quod 
 est, necessario sequitur. Verum ad hunc finem perveniri non potest, nisi doctrinam natura commode pcrcipiat, 
 cxercitatio confirmet, utraeque simul doctrina et exercitatio artem quasi alteram naturam reddant. Sed ingenium 
 sine arte, quam ars sine ingenio plus proficere censetur : proficere autem non admodum utrumque nisi accesserit 
 exercitatio : unde illud Ovidii: 
 
 Solus, et artificem qui facit, usus erit, 
 
 Exercitatio duplex est ; analysis et genesis. Ilia est, cum exempla artis in sua principia quasi resolvuntur : 
 dum singulis partibus ad normam, i. c. ad praecepta artis examinantur: haec, cum ex artis pnescripto eOicimus 
 aliquid aut componimus. 
 
 Hactenus causte artium: sequuntur species. Artes sunt generates vel speciales: generales, quarum materia 
 subjecta est generalis. Materia autem ilia vel artificis est, vel artis. Artificis materia genenilis generalibus 
 cunctis artibus est communis; artis autem, singularum est propria : estque artificis quidcm generalis materia, 
 omuc id quod revera est, aut esse fingitur ; artis, quod in eo omni efBciunt singular. Id omne vel ratio complcc- 
 tilur, vel oratio: gcneralium itaque artium raateria generalis, vel ratio est, vel oratio: versantur enim in cxc<>- 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 863 
 
 lenda vel ratione ad bene ratiocinandum, ut log-ica; vel oratione, eaque vel ad bene loquenduni, ut g-rainmatica, 
 vel ad dicendum bene, ut rhetorica. Omnium autem prima ac generalissima, logica est; dein grammatica, turn 
 demum rhetorica; quatenus rationis usus sine oratione etiam magnus, hujus sine ilia potest esse nullus. Gram- 
 maticse autem secundum tribuimus locum, eo quod oratio pura esse etiam inornata; ornata esse nisi pura sit 
 prius, facile non queat. 
 
 Artes speciales sunt, quee materiam habent specialem; nempe uaturam fere vel mores: earum enim accura- 
 tior distributio non est hujus loci. 
 
 ARTIS LOGICiE PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, &c. 
 
 LIBER PRIMUS. 
 
 CAPUT I. 
 
 Quid sit Logica P 
 
 LoGiCA est ars bene ratiocinandi. Eodemque sensu 
 dialectica soepe dicta est. 
 
 Logica autem, i. e. ars rationalis, a Xoyw dicitur: 
 quae vox Graece ratinnem significat ; quam excolen- 
 dam logica sibi sumit. 
 
 Ratiocinari autem est rationis uti facultate. Addi- 
 tur bene, i. e. recte, scienter, expedite ; ad perfectio- 
 nem artis ab imperfcctione facultatis naturalis distin- 
 guendam. 
 
 Logicam potius, quam cum P. Ramo dialecticam, 
 diccndam duxi, quod eo nomine tota ars rationis aptis- 
 sime significetur; ciim dialectica a verbo Gracco SiaXi- 
 yca^ai, artem potius interrogandi et respondendi, i. e. 
 disputandi significet; ut ex Platonis Cratylo, ex doc- 
 trina perjpateticorum et stoicorum, Fabio, Suida, aliis- 
 quc docetur. Ettamen Plato in Alcibiade prinio idem 
 vult esse to SuiXiycaiai, quod ratione uti. Prior signi- 
 ficatio ad rationis usum nimis angusta est ; posterior, 
 si inter authores de ea con convenit, nimis incerta. 
 
 Ratiocinandi autem potius dico quam disserendi, 
 propterea quod ratiocinari, non minus late quam ipsa 
 ratio, idem valet proprie quod ratione uti ; ciim dis- 
 sererc, praeterqnam quod vox non plane propria, sed 
 translata sit, non latius plerumque pateat, quam dis- 
 putare. 
 
 Addunt nonnuUi indefinitione subjectum dialecticce, 
 i. e. de re qualibet: sed hoc cum grammatica et rheto- 
 rica commune dialecticne fuit, ut in prooemio vidimus; 
 non ergo hie repetendum. 
 
 CAP. n. 
 
 De partibus Logica, deque Argumenti Generihus, 
 
 Ratiocinatio autem fit omnis, rationibus vel solis 
 et per se consideratis, vel inter se dispositis ; quae ar- 
 gumenta etiam stepius dicta sunt. 
 
 Logicae itaque partes duse sunt ; rationum sive ar- 
 gumentorum inventio, eorumque dispositio. 
 
 Secutus veteres Ramus, Aristotelem, Ciceronem, 
 Fabium, dialecticam partitur in inventionem et judi- 
 cium. Varum non inventio, quse nimis lata est quo- 
 cunque modo sumatur, sed argumentorum inventio* 
 pars prima logicae dicenda est; dispositio autem corum, 
 cur sit secunda, non judicium, secundi libri initio 
 respondebimus. Sed neque h;rc partitio suis auctori- 
 bus vel iisdem vel aliis caret : Plato, in Phtedo, dispo- 
 sitionem inventioni addidit; Aristoteles rdKtv; Top. 8. 
 ] . quod idem est. Et Cicero, de Orat., fatetur, inven- 
 tionem et dispositionem, non orationis esse, sed ra- 
 tionis. 
 
 Inventionem autem et dispositionem quarum tan- 
 dem rerum nisi argumentorum. 
 
 Argumentorum itaque inventio topica Graec^ nomi- 
 natur, quia tottsc continet, i. e. locos unde argumenta 
 sumuntur, viamque docet et rationem argumenta bene 
 inveniendi,suo nimirum ordine collocata; unde vel ad 
 genesin expromantur, vel in analysi explorentur, in- 
 ventorumque simul vim atque usum exponit. 
 
 " Argumentum est quod ad aliquid arguendum affec- 
 tum est." Id est, quod habet affectionem ad arguen- 
 dum ; vel ut Cic. in Top. quod affectum est ad id de 
 quo quaeritur: id interpretatur Boethius refertur, vel 
 aliqua relatione respicit id de quo quteritur. 
 
 Ista affectione sublata, argumentum non est; mu- 
 tata, non est idem ; sed ipsum quoque mutatur. 
 
 Ad arguendum autem, i. e. ostendendum, explican- 
 dum, probandum aliquid. Sic juxta illud tritum, 
 " degeneres animos timor arguit," jEneid 4 : et illud 
 Ovidii ; " Apparet virtus, arguiturque malis." Ex- 
 plicare autem et probare etiam simplicis argumenti 
 propria atque primaria vis est, unde aliud ex alio se- 
 qui, vel non sequi, i. e. uno posito, alterum poni vel 
 non poni primitus judicatur: quod de inductione qui- 
 dem recte monuit Baconus noster, de Augment. Scicnt. 
 1. 5, c. 4, " uno eodemque mentis opere, illud quod 
 quseritur, et inveniri et judicari;" sed hoc de singulis 
 argumentis simplicibus non minus vcrum est. 
 
 Ex quo etiam sequitur, judicium non esse alteram 
 logicae partem, sed quasi effectum utriusque partis 
 
8M 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 communeni et ex utraque oriundum ; ex syllog-isino in 
 re praesertim dubia clarius quidem at secundario taraen 
 contra ac plerique ducent. 
 
 Aliquid autem, est id quodcunque arg'uitar: quic- 
 quid enira est, aut esse fing-itur, subjectiitn est log'icte, 
 ut supra dcnionstraviinus. Arjjcumentijm autem pro- 
 pria nequc vox est neque res; sed affcctio quxdam rei 
 ad arguendum ; quae ratio dici potest ut supra. 
 
 Tractat igitur logfica neque voces, neque res. Voces 
 quidem, quamquam et sine vocibus potest ratiocinari, 
 tamen, quoties opus est, distinctas et tantum non am- 
 bigiias, non improprias, ab ipso usu loquendi videtur 
 jure sani postulare : res ipsas artib. quasque suis relin- 
 quit ; arg-uendi duntaxat inter se quam babeant afTec- 
 tionem sive rationem considerat. 
 
 Ratio autem dicitur, voce a matbematicis petita, 
 quaterminorumproportionalium inter secerta babitudo 
 significatur. 
 
 " Argumentum est artiiiciale aut inartificiale. Sic 
 Aristot. Rhet. 1, 12," quem Fabius sequitur, 1. 5, c. 1. 
 Cicero in " insitum " et " assumptum " dividit. Arti- 
 iiciale autem dicitur, non quo inveniatur arte magis 
 quam inartificiale, sed quod ex sese arguit, i. e. vi 
 insita ac propria. 
 
 " Artificiale est primum, vel k primo ortum. Pri- 
 mum, quod est sute originis." Id est, afFectionem 
 arguendi non modu in se habet, sed etiam a se ; quod 
 infra clarius patebit, cum quid sit a " primo ortum " 
 docebitur. 
 
 " Primum est simplex aut comparatum. 
 
 " Simplex, quod simpliciter et absolute considera- 
 tur." Id est, simplicem habet affectionem arij-uendi id 
 quod arguitur, sine quautitatis aut qualitatis cum eo 
 comparatione. 
 
 " Simplex est consentaneura aut dissentaneum." 
 
 Nam quse sine comparatione considerantur, necesse 
 est vel consentiant inter se, vel dissenliant. 
 
 " Consentaneum est quod consentit cum re quam 
 arguit." Id est, ponit, sive affirmat esse rem quam 
 ai^uit. 
 
 " Estque consentaneum absolute aut raodo quodam." 
 Absolute, i. e. perfecte ; absolvere eninj est perficere. 
 Aristotelis quoque hoec distributio est. Quae autem 
 absolute consentiunt, eorum alterum alterius vi exis- 
 tere intelligitur; et sic consentiunt causa et effectus. 
 Atque boe sunt argumentorum distributiones gene- 
 rales ex aflfectionum diflfcrentiis desumptae ; suoque 
 nunc ordine singulatim tractandae : argumentorum 
 autem omnium primum causa est; id quod per se qui- 
 vis intelligere potest. 
 
 CAP. III. 
 
 De Efficiente, procreante, et conservante. 
 
 " Causa est, cujus vi res est." Vel, si ex capite 
 superiore, quod intelligi memoriaque teneri potest, 
 repetito est opus, causa est argumentum artificiale, 
 
 primum, simplex, absolute consentaneum, cujus vi, 
 vel facultatc, res, i. e. eflectum, arguitur esse vel e.x- 
 istcre. Nee male definiatur causa " quae dat esse 
 rei." 
 
 Cujus autem vi vel facultate, i. e. a quo, ex quo, per 
 quod, vel propter quod res est, id causa esse dicitur. 
 "Res" etiam, idem quod "aliquid" in definitionc 
 argumenti, vox generalis adhibctur, quae significaret 
 causam,sicut et reliquaargumenta, esse rerum omnium 
 quae vel sunt, vel finguntur: nam quae revera sunt, 
 veras ; quae finguntur, fictas causas babent. 
 
 Hinc intelligitur " causam sine qua non," quae vulgo 
 dicitur, improprie causam, et quasi fortuito, dici: utcum 
 amissio rei alicujus dicitur causa recuperationis ; quam- 
 vis amissio recuperationem necessario praecedat. Neque 
 enim causa sic intelligi debet, id quod et Cicero docuit, 
 1. de Fato, ut quod cuique anteccdat, id ei causa sit, sed 
 quodcuique efficienter antecedat; i. e.ita ut res vi ejus 
 existat. Hinc causa proprie dicta, " principium" quoque 
 nominatur k Cic. 1 de Nat. Deor.,sed frequentius apud 
 Graecos. 
 
 Causa autem est cujus vi res non solum est, verum 
 etiam fuit, vel erit. Ut enim prsecepta logica de omni 
 re, sic omnium praecepta artiuni de omni tempore intel- 
 ligenda sunt; unde etaeterna esse, veritatesque aetemoe 
 dicuntur. 
 
 Ex definitione autem causae tertium illud artis prae- 
 ceptum, de quo in prtefatione diximus, consectarium 
 hoc oritur : " primus hie locus inventionis, fons est om- 
 nis scientiae; sciriquc demum creditur cujus causa 
 teneatur." 
 
 Neque aliud est Aristotelis decantata ilia demonstra- 
 tio, quam quaeflfectum arguitur, probatur, cognoscitur, 
 ponitur, ex causa posita; quodcunque illud demum 
 causae genus sit: ut cum risibile probatur ex rationali, 
 quippe, omnis homo est risibilis, quia rationalis: eoque 
 erit clarior demonstratiu, quo causa certior, propior, 
 prsBstantior. 
 
 " Causa est efBciens et materia, aut forma et finis." 
 Cur sic causa dividatur quasi in duo genera anonyma, 
 infra in doctrina distributionis facilius intelligetur. 
 
 Quot autem modis alicujus vi res est, tot esse species 
 causae statuenduni est. Modis autem quatuor alicujus 
 vi res est; ut rect^ Aristot. Phys. 2,7, et nos supra 
 diximus ; vel enim a quo, vel ex quo, vel per quod, vel 
 propter quod res unaquaeque est, ejus vi esse recte 
 dicitur. His modis nee plures inveniuntur, nee pau- 
 ciores esse possunt: rcct6 igitur causa distribuitur in 
 causam a qua, ex qua, per quam, et propter quam, i. e. 
 efficieiitem et materiam, aut forraani, et finem. 
 
 " Eflficiens est causa, k qua res est, vel eflScitur." Ab 
 efficiente enim principium morendi est; ipsa tamen 
 effecto non inest. 
 
 Ciceroni omnis causa "efficiens" nominatur: sic 
 enim in Topicis ; " primus est locus rerum efficientiuro, 
 qute causae appellantur :" et de Fato; "causa est quae 
 id efficit, cujus est causa." Hinc fit ut "causatum," a 
 causis licet umnib. ortum habens, " eflTcctum" tantum- 
 modo vocitetur : unde hoc solum intelligitur, efficientem 
 esse causam praecipuam atque primariam ; omnem au- 
 tern causam aliqiio modo efficcre. 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 865 
 
 " Efficientis etsi, vera genera nulla sive species nobis 
 a])parent, ubertas tamen permagna modis quibusdam 
 distinguitur." 
 
 *' Primo, quod procreet, aut tueatur." 
 
 Sic pater et mater procreant; nutrix tuetur. Hue 
 iquoque omnium rerum inventores, auctores, conditores, 
 conservatores referendi sunt. Procreare igitur et tueri 
 duo sunt modi quibus idem ssepe efficiens efficere solet : 
 procreando quidem id quod nondum est, ut sit; con- 
 servando autem id quod jam est, ut porro sit. 
 
 CAP. IV. 
 
 De Ejfficiente sola, et cum aliis. 
 
 " Secundo, causa efficiens sola efficit, aut cum 
 aliis. Earumque omnium scepc alia principalis, alia 
 minus principalis, sivc adjuvans et ministra." Quam 
 Cicero, in Partit. "causam conficientem" vocat : 
 et cujns, inquit, generis vis varia est, et ssepe aut 
 major aut minor; ut et ilia quiE maximam vim 
 habet, sola saepc causa dicatur. Hinc, ^Eneid. 2, Nysus 
 ab Euryalo socio transfert in se factte caedis et culpam 
 et poenam : quasi solus auctor fuerit, quia fuit pr;eci- 
 puus. Et solitaria causa cum plcrisque et principalibus 
 et sociis, pro " Marcello," varie adhibctur. Scd ha?c 
 duo cxempla vide post finem in praxi analytica. 
 
 Causa minus principalis (ut quidam volunt) vcl est 
 impulsiva, quse principalem quoquo modo inipellit ac 
 movet, vel est instrumentalis. 
 
 Impulsiva duplex est Groccisque vocibus receptis, 
 "proegumena" dicitur, vel " procatarctica." Ilia in- 
 tus, haec extriiisecus movet principalem : et vera si est, 
 "occasio;" si ficta, " praetextus " dicitur. 
 
 Sic causa proeg. quae intus movebat infideles ad per- 
 sequendum Christianos (exemplis enim receptis hie 
 utemur) erat eoruni ignorantia aut impietas, causa 
 procat. erant nocturni conventus, vel potius qusevis con- 
 venticula Christianorum, Olira interficiendi Christi 
 causa proeg. erat Judoeorum zelus ignarus : procat. 
 objecta sabbathi violatio concionesque seditiosaj. No- 
 tandum autem est ubi causa proegumena, sive intenia, 
 non est, ibi causre procatarctica?, sive extemee, vim nul- 
 lam esse. 
 
 Ad causam autem procatarcticam, ea saepe referenda 
 videtur, si omnino est in causis numeranda, quae supra 
 dicta est " causa sine qua non ;" siquidem quovis modo 
 causam extrinsecus movere principalem did potest. 
 
 " Instrumenta etiam in causis adjuvantibus connume- 
 rantur." Quo argumento Epicureus, apud Cic. 1, de 
 Nat. Deor. disputat munduni nunquam esse factum : 
 hoc etiam exemplum ad praxin retulimus. Instrumenta 
 autem proprie non agunt, sed aguntur aut adjuvant. 
 Et qui causam adjuvantem nullam nisi instrumenta 
 habent, potest recle " solitaria causa " dici : quanquam 
 lata admodum instrumenti significatio admittitur; ut 
 apud Aristot. Polit. I, 3, " instrumenta sunt animata, 
 vel inanimata." Quo sensu omncs fere causae adju- 
 
 vantes et ministrae possunt " instrumentales" nomi- 
 nari. 
 
 Ad hunc locum referendus commodissime videtur 
 causarum ordo, quo alia dicitur " prima," idque vel ab- 
 solute, ut Deus, vel in suo genere, ut sol, et ejusmodi 
 quippiara ; alia "secunda;" et sic deinceps, quae a 
 prima vel a prioribus pendet, et quasi effectum est. 
 Alia deinde " remota" dicitur, alia "proxiraa:" quo 
 spectat illud vulgo dictum, " quicquid est causa causae, 
 est etiam causa causati." Quae regula in causis duntaxat 
 necessario inter se ordiuatis valet. Sed ha; causarum 
 divisiones in logica non magnopere sectandac sunt ; 
 quandoquidem tota vis arguendi in causa proxiraa con- 
 tinetur; deque ea sola geueralis definitio causae intcl- 
 ligitur. 
 
 CAP. V. 
 
 De Efficienle per se, et per Accidens. 
 
 " Tertio, causa efficiens per se efficit, aut per ac- 
 cidens." Tertium hoc par modorum efficiendi est, ab 
 Aristotele etiam et veteribus notatum. 
 
 " Per se efficit causa, quae sua facultate efficit." Id 
 est, quae ab interno principio effectum producit. 
 
 " Ut quae natura vel consilio faciunt." Naturalis 
 efficientia est elementorum, fossilium, plautarum, ani- 
 malium. Consilii exemplum est ilia Ciccronis de se ad 
 Caesarera confessio: " nulla vi coactus, judicio meo ac 
 voluntate, ad ea arma profectus sum, quae erant sumpta 
 contra te.'' 
 
 Naturae, appetitum; consilio, artem nonnulli adjun- 
 gunt. Sed appetitus aut ad naturam, aut ad naturae 
 vitium; ars ad consilium sine incommodo referetur : 
 ars n. et consilium quatenus aliud efficiunt, non ilia ab 
 intellectu, hoc a voluntate ; scd ut utrumque ab utroquc 
 proficisci videtur: etenira ars fere non invita, non prox- 
 imae saltern invita; et consilium prudens scicusque 
 agit. Hi quatuor modi efficiendi per se, ad eundem 
 nonnunquam effectum concurrunt: ut cum quis loqui- 
 tur, natura; hoc vel illud, consilio simul et appetitu ; 
 eleganter, arte. 
 
 Videtur itaque hue proprie referenda etiam causa im- 
 pulsiva, sive ea proegumena, sive procatarctica sit, de 
 quibus capite superiore diximus; quae non tam causte 
 sunt principali sociae aut ministrae quam modi efficien- 
 tis, quibus vel affectu aliquo impulsus, vel ex occasione 
 aliqua oblata, consilio abductus hoc vel illud agit, ut 
 ex allatis ibi exemplis intelligi potest. 
 
 Quae autem natura necessario, quae consilio, libera 
 agunt ; necessario agit quae aliter agere non potest, sed 
 ad unum quidpiam agendum determinatur, idque so- 
 lum sua propensione agit quae necessitas naturae dici- 
 tur; ex hypothesi nimirum. Nisi Deus aliud voluerit, 
 aut externa vis aliorsum impulerit, ut lapidcm sursum. 
 Libere agit efficiens non hoc duntaxat ut naturale agens, 
 sed hoc vel illud pro arbitrio, idque absolute vel ex 
 hypothesi. Absolute solus Deus libere agit omnia; 
 id est quicquid vult; et agere potest vel non agere; 
 
866 
 
 ARTIS LOGIC.E PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 testaiitur hoc passim sacne litcrae : libere ex hjpotbet>i, 
 ills duntaxat causae quuc ratione et consilio faciiint, ut 
 ang'eli et homines ; ex liypothesi uimirum dirina; volun- 
 tatis, qua: iis libere ag'endi potestatem in principio 
 fecit. Libertas enim potestas est ajjendi vol non agendi 
 hoc ve\ illud. Nempe nisi Deus aliud voluerit, aut vis 
 aliunde ingruat. 
 
 " Per accidens efficit causa, quae externa facultate 
 efficit." Id est, non sua ; cum principium effecti est 
 extra efficientem, exteruumque principium intcrno op- 
 positum : sic u. efficiens non efficit per se, sed per 
 aliud. Hinc vere dicitur, " omne efTectum causae per 
 accidens potest reduci ad causam per se." 
 
 " Ut in his qute fiunt coactione, vel fortuna." Duo 
 n. haec sunt externa principia intornis, naturns nempe 
 et voliintati sive consilio, opposita. Sic Aristot. Rhet, 
 2, 20, cOm dixisset, homines facere quaedam non per 
 se, qufcdam per se ; subjung-it, " eorum quae non per 
 se, alia per fortunam, alia ex necessitate." Sed " neces- 
 sitas" vox nimis lata est, ut ex supra dictis de efficiente 
 uaturali patebit. 
 
 Coactione fit aliquid, cum efficiens vi cogitur ad ef- 
 fectum. Ut cum lapis sursum vel recta projicitur qui 
 suapte natura deorsum fertur. Haec necessitas coacti- 
 onis dicitur et causis etiara liberis nonnunquam acci- 
 dere potest. Sic necesse est mercatori in tempestate 
 merces ejicere, siquidem salvus esse vult. Hsec itaque 
 necessitas mixtasquasdam actiones produxit, quas facit 
 quis volens nolente animo, quod aiunt. 
 
 " Fortuna sive fortuito fit aliquid, ciim prseter scopum 
 efficientis accidit." Non enim fortuna, sed efficiens, 
 quae per fortunam sive fortuito agit, est proprie causa 
 per accidens rerum fortuitarura: eo quod earum prin- 
 cipium, occulta nimirum ilia causa quam " fortunam" 
 dicimus, extra ilium efficientem est: fortuna autem est 
 eventuum eorum principium, etsioccultum, non per ac- 
 cidens tamen, sed perse. Fortuna itaque apud veteres 
 aut nomen sine re esse existimabatur, quo usi sunt 
 homines, teste alicubi Hippocrate, ciim secundarias 
 contingentium causas ignorarent, aut est ipsa latens 
 causa: ut Cicero in Top. "ciim enim nihil sine causa 
 fiat, hoc ipsum est fortuna, eventus obscura causa, quse 
 latenter efficit." Inter fortunam ct casum htec volunt 
 interesse Aristot. Phjs. 2, 6, et Plutarch, de Placit. et 
 de Fato, ut casus quam fortuna latius pateat : fortuna 
 in iis duntaxat qui ratione utuntur; casus iu omnibus 
 tam animantibus quam inanimatis dominetur : sed lo- 
 quendi fere usus fortunae sub nomine casum etiam 
 complectitur, quotiescunque praeter scopum sive finem 
 efficientis aliquid accidit. " Sic casu fortuito," ait 
 Tullius,3, De Nat. Deor. " Pheraeo Jasoni profuit hos- 
 tis, qui gladio vomicam ejus aperuit, quam medici 
 sanare non poterant." 
 
 " In hoc genere causarura imprudentia connumerari 
 Bolet." Sic etiam Aristot. Ethic. 3, l,"videntur non 
 Toluntaria esse, quae per vim aut ignorantiam fiunt." 
 Et Ovid. 2 Trist. 
 
 Cur aliquid vidi ? cur noxia lumina feci ? 
 
 Cur imprudenti cognita culpa mihi est ? 
 Inscius Action vidil sine veste Dianam : 
 
 Pxaeda suiscanibus nee minus ille fuit. 
 
 Scilicet in superts etiam fortuna luenda est : 
 Nee veniam, Isso numine, casus habet. 
 
 Durum id esse qucritur pocta : nam coetcroqui hinc 
 sumitur plerumquc dcprecatio ; et e.vcusatiuni etiam 
 nonnunquam locus hie est." Deprecationis exemplum 
 est apud Cic. pro Ligario : "ignosce pater: crravit; 
 lapsus est: non putavit: ct" paulo post; "erravi: 
 temerc feci : poenitet ; ad clementiam tuam confugio." 
 
 Fortunee autem nomen, ut supra dictum est, ignoratio 
 causarum confixit: ciim enim aliquid praeter consilium 
 spcmque conligerit, fortuna vulgo dicitur. Unde Cice- 
 ro, apud Lactantium, Instit. 3, 29, "ignoratio rerum 
 atque causarum fortunae nomen induxit." Nee iuscite 
 Juveualis : 
 
 Nullum numen abest,si sit prudentia: sed te 
 Nos facimus, fortuna, deam : coeloque locamus. 
 
 Cert^ enim et ccelu locanda est ; sed, mutato nomine, 
 " diviua providentia" dicenda. Unde Arist. Phjs. 2, 4, 
 " sunt nonnulli quibus fortuna quidem vidctur esse 
 causa, sed ignota humanae intelligentiae, tanquam divi- 
 num quiddam." Et Cic. Acad. 1, " pruvidcnliam Dei 
 quae ad homines pertinet, nonnunquam quidem fortu- 
 nam appellant, quod efficiat multa improvisa nee 
 opinata nobis propter obscuritatein ignorationemque 
 causarum." Sed providentia rerum omnium prima 
 causa est, sive uotae sive ignotae sint earum causae 
 secundariae: et providentiae si necessitatem adjungas, 
 "fatum" dici solet. Veriim de providentia nieliiis 
 theologia quam logica disceptabit. Hoc tantitin obi- 
 ter; fatum sive decretum Dei cogere neminem male- 
 facere ; et ex hypothesi diviuae praescientiae certa 
 quidem esse omnia, non necessaria. Non excusandus 
 itaque Cicero pro Ligario, ciim ait, " fatal is quaedam 
 calamitas incidisse videtur, et improvidas hominum 
 mentes occupavisse ; ut nemo mirari debeat humana 
 consilia divina necessitate esse superata." Multo rec- 
 tius alibi, " datur quidem vcnia necessitati ;" sed nc- 
 cessitati, quae instituto efficientis repuguat, ct vo- 
 luntati. 
 
 CAP. VI. 
 
 De Materia. 
 
 " Materia est causa ex qua res est." Efficientem 
 ordine naturae sequitur materia ; et efficientis efTectum 
 quoddam est ; pra>parat enim efficiens materiam, ut sit 
 apta ad recipiendam formam. Ut autem efficiens est 
 id quod primum movet, ita id materia quod primum 
 movetur, hinc efficiens, agendi ; materia, patiendi 
 principium appellatur. Ha:c autem definitio matcriae 
 apud omnes eadem fcri: occurrit. " Est causa :" ma- 
 tcriae enim vi effectum est. Ilia autem vis particula 
 " ex qua" significatur: quanquam haec vulgo non 
 materiae solum nota est, sed nunc efficientis, ut, " ex 
 ictu vulnus:" nunc partium, ut, " homo constat ex 
 anima et corpore;" nunc mutationis cujusvis, ut, " ex 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 867 
 
 caiidido fit niger. " Res:" nempe quam arguit: effec- 
 tum scilicet materiatum; ut intelligamus materiam 
 etiam esse omnium entium et non entium communem ; 
 not! rerum sensibilium et corporearum propriam. Qua- 
 les autem res ipsse sunt, talis materia earum esse debet ; 
 sensibilium sensibilis, aeternarum seternae; et ita in 
 reliquis. Sic artium materia sunt prapcepta. " Est," 
 i. e. efficitur et constat: unde Cic. 1, Acad. " materia 
 ea causa est, quae se efficient! praebct, ut ex sese non 
 modo effectum fiat, sed etiam postquam effectum est, 
 constet." Hoc argumento ficto, apud Ovid. 2 Metam. 
 solis domus auro, pyropo, eborc, argento componitur. 
 " Regia solis erat," &c. Sic Caesar. 1 Bel. Civil, na- 
 vium materiam describit: " cariuoB primum ac statu- 
 mina ex levi materia fiebant," &c. 
 
 Dividitur vulgo materia in primam et secundam ; 
 secunda in proximam et remotam. Veriim haec dis- 
 tributio physica potius est. Id enim solum logicus in 
 materia spectat, ut res ex ea sit; et potissimum qui- 
 dem ut proxime ex ea sit ; proxima enim potissimum 
 arsruit. 
 
 CAR VII. 
 
 De Forma. 
 
 " Caus£ primum genus ejusraodi est in efficiente et 
 materia : secundum sequitur in forma et fine." Quia 
 scilicet ordine temporis est posterius. Efficiens enim 
 et materia sub genere priore contiuentur, quod in 
 effccto producendo praeccdunt ; forma et finis sub 
 posteriore, quod efficientem et materiam sequuntur 
 effectumque ipsum comitantur : positis enim effici- 
 ente, et materia, non continuo sequuntur forma et 
 finis : efficiens enim etsi materia suppetit, forma 
 tamen et fine suo nonnunquam frustratur; forma et 
 finis si adsit, necesse est efficientem et materiam fu- 
 isse. Qui autem in usu observatur ordo causarum, 
 idem debet in doctrina quoque observari. Nee ta- 
 men ordo iste ad constituenda causarum genera satis 
 Talet, sed aliud quiddam quod nomine caret. Unde 
 merito non satis accurata videtur ilia causarum dis- 
 tributio, quee affertur Aristotelis, in causas vel eflfec- 
 tum proecedentes, ut efficientem et materiam ; vel 
 cum effecto simul existentes, ut formam et finem : 
 tametsi enim hsec distributio ordinem causarum 
 servat, naturam tamen earum non distinguit; immo 
 causce neque convenit, neque propria est: non con- 
 Tcnit, quia causa quselibet, ut causa, non praecedit, sed 
 cum effecto simul est. Praecedunt autem utcunque 
 efficiens et materia effectum vel naturae ordine, vel tem- 
 poris: si naturae, id et cum reliquis causis et cum sub- 
 jectis omnibus commune habent; si temporis, hoc effi- 
 ciente et materiae neque omni commune est (quiBdam 
 enim cum effecto non nisi simul sunt) neque solis iis 
 proprium ; nam et subjecta pleraque adjunctis suis 
 tempore priora sunt. Nee foelicius ab codem Aristotele 
 dividuntur causae in externas, efficientem et finem ; et 
 3 K 
 
 intenias, materiam et formam : haec enim distributio 
 etsi usus ejus aliquis esse potest, ad leges tamen artis 
 minus accommodata est : esse enim externum vol in- 
 ternum, non est causis proprium, sed effecto etiam et 
 adjuncto commune. Deinde materia et forma cum in- 
 tra effectum sunt, non tarn causa; quam partes effecti 
 sunt : quid ? quod finis, quae perfectio rei est aptitudo- 
 que ad usum, interna potius causa diceretur, Postremo, 
 haec distributio turbat ordinem causarum, methodi pro- 
 inde legem : efficiens enim est principium motus et 
 causarum prima; finis, ultima est : si igitur internum 
 externo pra^mittitur, materia et forma, quae efficientis 
 quodammodo effecta sunt, efficienti praeponentur ; 
 si externum interno, finis efficienti, i. e. ultima 
 primae, adjungetur; mediis, materiae nenipe et forma, 
 prtemittetur. Cautius itaque Ramus atque arti con- 
 venientius, causarum genera anonyma reliquit: quod 
 ut ostenderemus, longiuscule cum vcnia digressi, 
 nunc ad alterura genus causarum, formam et finem, 
 redeamus. Formae autem est prior locus coucedendus, 
 ciim finis nihil aliud sit quam fructus quidam formce. 
 
 " forma est causa per quam res est id quod est." 
 Haec definitio Platonicam et Aristotelicam conjunxit : 
 ille enim definit formam esse causam per quam, hie, 
 quod quid est esse. Ut autem materia, si etiam forma 
 effectum quoddam efficientis quidem est. Formam 
 enim efficiens et producit nondum existentem, et indu- 
 cit in materiam : forma autem effecti ct causa est, et 
 praecipua quidem, solaque effectum arguit, quod vi 
 formas potissimum existit. Efficiens enim frustrari 
 forma, forma effecto non potest. Per quam itaque par- 
 ticula cam causam significat eamque vim, quae rem sive 
 effectum informat atque constituit. Res enim nulla est 
 quae suam non habeat formam, nobis licet incognitam. 
 
 Res etiam singula, sive individua, qute vulgo vo- 
 cant, singulas sibique proprias formas habent ; differunt 
 quippe numero inter se, quod nemo non fatetnr. Quid 
 autem est aliud numero inter se, nisi singulis formis 
 differre ? Numerus enim, ut recte Scaliger, est affectio 
 essentiam consequens. Quae igitur numero, essentia 
 quoque differunt; et nequaquam numero, nisi essentia, 
 differrent. Evigilent hie theologi. Quod si quaecunque 
 numero, essentia quoque differunt, nee tamen materia, 
 necesse est formis inter se differunt ; ncn autem com- 
 nuinibus, ergo propriis. Sic anima rationalis, forma 
 liominis in genere est; anima Socratis, forma Socratis 
 propria. *' Per quam res est id quod est," i. e. quae 
 dat proprium esse rei. Cum enim cujusque fere rei 
 essentia partim sit communis, partim propria ; com- 
 munem materia constituit, forma propriam. Et per 
 alias quidem causas esse res potest dici ; per solam for- 
 mam "esse id quod est." 
 
 " Ideoque hinc a caeteris rebus omnib. res distingui- 
 tur." Id est, distinctione, quam vocant essentiali : ex 
 sola enim forma est differentia essentialis. Immo quae- 
 cunque inter se quovis modo, eadem etiam formis dif- 
 ferunt ; fonsque omnis differentiae forma est ; nee aliis 
 argumentis inter se res, nisi formis primario discrepa- 
 rent. Et hoc quidem consectarium ex definitione est 
 primum, sequitur alteram. 
 
 "Forma simul cum re ipsa ingcneratur." Hinc 
 
868 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 illud vcrissimuDi : " posita furma, res ipsa ponitur ; sub- 
 lata, tullitur." Ad excmpla nunc veniamus. Aninia 
 rationalis est forma faominis, quia per earn homo est 
 homo, ct distiuguitur a cteteris omnibus iiaturis : ^eo- 
 mctricarum fig'uraruni in trian^'ulis, quadrau^ulis sua 
 forma est: physicarum, coeli, tcrrsn, arboruui, piscium 
 sua. 
 
 " Unde proecipua rerum ut uatura est, sic erit explica- 
 tio, si possit inveuiri." Tertium hoc consectarium est ex 
 definitioue formse. Unde illud quod dc causa in com- 
 muni supiadictum est,nempcfontcmesseomnisscientite, 
 formte potissimum convcnire intclligitur. Qutc enim 
 causa csscntiam pnccipuc constituit, cadem si nota sit, 
 scieutiam quuque potissimum facit. Sod formam intcr- 
 uam cujusque rci nossc, i sensibus, ut fere fit, remotissi- 
 niam, difficile adniodum est. In artificiosis autcm rebus 
 forma, utpote externa, sensibusque cxposita, facilius 
 occurrit ; ut apud Ctesarem de Bell. Gall. 1. 7, "muri 
 autem omnes Gallici hoec fere forma sunt," ^c. Sic 
 forma Virgiliani portus explicatur, ^£ncid. 1, " est in 
 secessu longo locus," &c. 
 
 Distributio autem formce nulla vera est. Nam quod 
 nonnulli iuternam vel externam esse volunt, ea distri- 
 butio neque ad res omnes, sed tantuni ad corporeas per- 
 tinebit; ct externa non minus essentialis cuique rei est 
 artificiosae, quam interna naturali. 
 
 CAP. VIII. 
 
 De Fine. 
 
 "Finis est causa cujus gratia res est." Sic ctiam 
 " Aristoteles, Phil. 1, 3, quarta causa est cujus et bo- 
 II um : hoc enim generationis omnis finis est." Cum 
 enim efficiens assecutus est finem, in eo acquies- 
 cit, actionique suas finem imponit. Finis itaque est 
 causarum ultima. Verum ut recte " Aristot. Phys. 2, 
 2,nonomne ultimum finalis causa est, sed quod est op- 
 timum:" Finis enim vel terminum rei significat, vel 
 bunum rci ; sicut et terminus est vel durationis, vel 
 magnitudinis aut figurte. Finalis autem causa non est 
 nisi bonum quid ; eodemque sensu finis et bonum dici- 
 tur ; verumne an apparens, ad vim causae nihil interest. 
 Sic etiam Aristot. Phys. 2, 3, idemque in Eth. passim : 
 mali etiam evitatio habet rationem boni. Nonnulli 
 tamen inter finem et finalem causam ita distinguunt, 
 ut finis sit usus rei, finalis autem causa de usu cogita- 
 tio. Atqui non cogitatio, sed res, i. e finis ipse effecti 
 causa finalis vera est: nam de materia quoque et de for- 
 ma prius cogitatur, sine hac tamen distiuctionu : cogi- 
 tatur etiam de causa impulsiva, eaque movct efficicn- 
 tem, nee tamen finalis causa dici potest; cum cam 
 efficiens non appeUt, sed sacpius aversetur, quoties 
 affcctus aut habitus aliquis pravus ad bonum aliqnod 
 apparens consequendum impellit. Idemque finis in 
 animo efficieotis primus, in operc atque effccto est pos- 
 tremus. Dum autem in animo tantum efficicntis est, 
 et nondum obtinctur, nondum saneexistit; cum non- 
 
 duui existit, causa esse qui potest? Cum itaque vulgo 
 dicitur, finis quatcnus efficientcm quasi suadendo movet 
 ut matcriam paret, cique formam inducat, non mod6 
 ctTccti, verum etiam causarum causa carumquc optima 
 est, id impropric ct per anticipationcm quandam dici- 
 tur. In opcre autem ct usu licet sacpc sit ultimus, np- 
 titudine tamen ad usum nisi simul cum forma ct tem- 
 pore et natura esse intclligatur, erit posterior effccto 
 per furmam jam constitute, et adjunctum potius effecti 
 quam causa. Sic non Iiabitatio, sed ad habitandum 
 aptitudo, quoc cum inducta furma simul ct tempore et 
 natura est, proprius finis domus est statuendus, reique 
 perfectio et forma: quasi fructus est. Hinc Gr*ci non 
 modo TiXioi perficio, a riXof, i. e. finis deducunt, sed 
 etiam perfectum rtKiiov, a fine, vocant, teste Aristotcle, 
 Phil. 8, 24. 
 
 Vis autem propria qua finalis causa aliis ab causis 
 dislinguitur, his verbis, "cujus gratia," exprimitur; 
 ut et aliis etiam particulis, nempe " cujus causa, ad, oh, 
 pro, propter, quo, quoi-sum," et similibus. Ne autem 
 est nota illius finis, qui in mali alicujus vitatione ver- 
 satur. Finis autem dicitur non eorum solum qui fincra 
 sibi proponunt, i. e. efficientium rationalium,sed eorum 
 quiecunque ad finem referuntur, i. e. quorumvis efFec- 
 torum. Sic physicis rebus finis homo propositus est, 
 homini Deus. Quod nee ignoravit Aristoteles, Phys. 
 2, 2, " rebus," inquit, " utimur, quasi nostra causa 
 cssent omnia: nam et nos quodammodo finis sumus." 
 Deum esse omnium finem docet sapiens Hcbrieus, 
 Proverb. 16, 4, " Deus propter se fecit omnia." Om- 
 nium artium est aliquod summum bonum et finis ex- 
 tremus; quae et earum forma est : ut grammaticae, bene 
 loqui ; rhetoricse, bene dicere ; logicfc, bene ratioci- 
 nari. 
 
 Quod autem forma finis quoque esse potest, testatur 
 baud semel Aristoteles, Phil. 8, 24, et Phys. 2, 7, 8. 
 Et Plato in Philebo, essentiam sive formam rci, gene- 
 rationis finem statuit: unde Arist. de Part. 1, 1, idem. 
 
 Ut formce, ita et finis distributio vera nulla est; quse 
 vulgo efferuntur, non sunt logici finis distributiones, sed 
 specialium finium pro varietatc effectorum distinc- 
 tiones. Distinguitur ab Aristotcle, de Anima, 1. 2, 4, 
 " finis cujus, et finis cui:" finis cujus, est finis opcraj, 
 sive operandi ; finis cui, est finis ipsiu^opcris, e. g. in 
 domo scdificanda; finis cujus, sive operas, est donius ; 
 finis cui, sive ipsius operis, i. e. domus cedificatac, est 
 aptitudo Jid hahitalionem. 
 
 AfiTeruntur et alit£ distributionis fines, quo; ad finem 
 cui pertinent, ut ex Aristot. Mag. Mor. 1, 2, "finis 
 alius est pcrfcctus, alius impcrfectus ;" vel, quod idem 
 est, ex aliis, " finis est summus, aut subordinatus." 
 Summus autem est, qui propter seexpetitur: estque 
 vel universalis, omnib. scilicet rebus communis, vel 
 specialis, cuique spccici pcculiaris et proprius. Sub- 
 ordinatius autem non tam finis est, quam destinatum 
 quiddam ad finem : et esse summum vel subordina- 
 tum, esse universale vel speciale, ad alia seque argu- 
 menta pertinet, atque ad finem. Postremo, lex distri- 
 butionis jubct partes distributionis esse oppositas : at 
 inter summum ct subordinatum oppositio nulla est. 
 Ad omnes igitur omnium rerum fines intclligendos. 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 869 
 
 unica finis definitio satis est ; ut id sit cujus gratia res 
 est : utrum auteni sit summus an subordinatus, univer- 
 salis an specialis, id lojfica non spectat, sed inferioribus 
 quibusvis disciplinis relinquit. 
 
 CAP. IX. 
 
 De Effecto. 
 
 " Effectum est, quod c causis existit.'' Effectum ciini 
 sit vi omnium causarum, a causa tamen principe, scili- 
 cet cfficiente, effectum denominatur. Sed quoniam, si 
 proprie loquimur, effectum ab efficientc solo cfficitur, 
 omnium autem causarum vi est, idcirco non definitur ex 
 denominatione quod a causis efficitur, sed ex re potius, 
 i. e. ex communi causarum vi, quod e causis est vel 
 existit. Jam illud hie monendum est, ex cap. 2, 
 quod in causa explicanda monuimus, effectum esse 
 argumcntum absolute cum cnusa sivc causaj consen- 
 taneum, i. e. causam absolutt!; arguere ; ita ut quemad- 
 modum posita causa, ponitur effectum ; sic posito 
 effecto, ponatur causa : ut enim caustc dant esse ef- 
 fecto, ita effectum esse suum babet a causis, i. e. ab 
 efficientc, ex materia, per formara, propter finem ex- 
 istit. Effectum igitur causas arguit, et ab iis vicissim 
 arguitur ; sed non pari ratione : effectum enim arguit 
 causam esse aut fuisse, Graccis oriy causa autem, quare 
 sit effectum demonstrat, Groecis hort. Causte sunt 
 priores et notiores, effectum, nt postcrius, ita minus 
 arguit. Sic argentum materia poculi, magis arguit 
 et manifestum reddit naturam poculi, quam poculum 
 argenti. Interdum autem cffccta, non per se quidem, 
 sed nobis notiora, clarius causas arguunt, quam argu- 
 untur a causis. Sic etiam Aristoteles, Post. 1, 10, 
 " nihil i)rohibet eorum quae se reciproce arguunt," ut 
 causa et effectum, '* id notius nonnunquam esse quod 
 non est causa." 
 
 " Sive igitur gignatur, sive corrumpatur, sive mode 
 quolibet moveatur quidlibct, hie motus et res motu 
 facta effectum dicitur." Ut causarum modi quidem 
 fuere, ita nunc effectorum quidam his verbis ostendun- 
 tur. Modi effectorum gencralcs sunt, vel speciales. 
 Generales sunt vel motus quilibet, quae " operatic et 
 actio" dicitur; vel res motu factse, qure sunt opera. 
 Modi speciales, sive exempla specialia, sunt " genera- 
 tio, corruptio, et similia," a physicis petita. Causa 
 enim corrumpens est causa procreans corruptionis. 
 Notandum autem est hie rem quamlibet, non motam, 
 sed " motu factam, effectum " dici ; nulla enim res 
 corrupta corrumpenti coutraria est. 
 
 Hujus loci sunt laudes et vituperationes, quarura 
 pleni sunt libri sacri et prophani. A factis enim quis- 
 que potissimum laudatur et vituperatur. 
 
 Hue etiam dicta scriptaque referenda sunt ; consilia 
 item et deliberationes, etiamsi ad exitum perducta; 
 non fuerint. Neque enim facta solum, sed etiam con- 
 sulta et cogitata pro effectis habenda sunt. 
 
 " Sunt etiam effecta virtutum et vitiorum." Hora- 
 tius hoc modo ebrietatis effecta describit : 
 
 " Quid non ebnetas designat? operta recludit," &c. 
 
 Volunt hie plerique Rami interpretes motus doc- 
 trinam, utpote rei geueralis, ad logicam pertinere; sed 
 non recte. Quid enim potest logica docere de motu, 
 quod naturale et physicum non sit ? " Scientias," in- 
 quiunt, ex Aristot. Phys. 8, 3, " et opiniones, motu 
 uti omnes." Utuntur quidem, sed ex natura, quam 
 physica docet, petito. Sic logica ratione utitur, nee 
 tamen rationis naturam, sed ratiocinandi artem docet. 
 Omnis quidem causa movet, effectum movetur ; ncc ta- 
 men quid moveat aut moveatur, sed quid arguat aut 
 arguatur logicus considerat. Ipsum etiam " arguerc et 
 argui" non quatenus motus est, aut res motu facta, sed 
 quatenus relatione quadam arguendi vel facultatem 
 ratiocinandi juvat vel artem tradit, ad logicara perti- 
 net. 
 
 Duos hie canoncs causae et cffecti communes, quam- 
 vis in physica potius quam in logica tractandos, ut 
 multa alia quse Aristotelici congerere hue solcnt, tamen 
 quia stEpe occurrunt et fallaces sunt, appendiculae in 
 modum libet cum suis cautionibus hie attingere. Pri- 
 mus est, •' qualis causa, tale causatum:" ex Aristot. 
 2 Top. c. 9. Quod verum non est priuio in causis per 
 aecidens: ut, "hie sutor est vir bonus;" at non ergo 
 " bonos consuit calceos;" potest enim esse sutor non 
 bonus. Secundo, non in causis universalibus : ut, " sol 
 omnia calcfacit;" at non " idcirco ipse est calidus." 
 Tertio, non in causis voluntariis, nisi velint. Quarto, 
 si res in qua effectum est producendum, id per naturam 
 suam recipcre non potest. 
 
 Canon secundus est, *' propter quod unumquodque 
 r(' tale, illud est magis tale;" Arist. 1 Post. c. 2. Sci- 
 licet primo rursus in causis per se : ut, " hie est ebrius ;" 
 non ergo " vinum magis ebrium." Secundo, si id a 
 quo tales denominantur utrique insit : ut, " cera sit 
 mollis a sole ;" non " ergo sol est raollior." Tertio, si 
 causa ilia recipiat magis et minus : non " ergo si filius 
 est homo propter patrem, pater propterea magis homo." 
 Sed canon hie valet prsecipu^ in causis finalibus : ut, 
 " hie studiis dat operam propter qutestum; quoestui 
 igitur studet magis." 
 
 CAP. X. 
 
 De Subjecto. 
 
 " Argumentum modo quodam consentaneum suc- 
 cedit, ut subjectum etadjunctum." Absoluta enim con- 
 sensio causee et effecti banc modo quodam consensionem 
 subjecti et adjuncti merito praecessit. Modo quodam 
 consentire cum re quam arguunt dicuntur, quae leviter 
 et extrinsecus tantum consentiunt, i. e. citra rationem 
 essentifE ; cum non ut causa effecto, ita subjectum det 
 esse adjunct© ; neque hoc ab illo essentiam accipiat. 
 De subjecto prius est agendum : etenim subjectum 
 omne suis adjunctis natura prius est, et quodammodo 
 se habet ad adjunctum, ut causa ad effectum. 
 
870 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 " Subjectuiu est, cui aliquid adjungitur." Hoc ar- 
 ^mcutum Cicero " rem subjectam " appellat, quia 
 nimirum alicui suhjicitur; siibjici autem id dicitur, 
 cui, cum ex cansis coiistitulum jam est, aliquid tan- 
 quam additamentum quoddam praeter causas adjuiiffi- 
 tur : adjungitur itaque aliquid, quod alteri, iicmpe 
 subjecto, perfectojam suisque causis constituto.extrin- 
 secus sive pneter essentiam accedit. Subjectum crg-o 
 est quod ad aliquid arg'ucndum est afTectum, quod sibi 
 pneter illam essentiam, quam c causis habet, insuper 
 accedit. 
 
 rt causa, ita et subjectum suos quosdam habet 
 modos : subjici cnim aliquid dicitur vel rccipieiido 
 adjuncta vel occupando. Unde subjectum distingui 
 potest in recipiens, quod Greece StKrtKov appellant, et 
 occupans, quod objectum dici solet, quiain eo adjuncta 
 occupantur. Recipiens vel in se recipit adjuncta, vel 
 ad sc : recipiens in se adjuncta, vel sustinet ea et quasi 
 sustentat, qute idcirco insitaet inhoerentia appellantur, 
 vel continet, ut locus locatum. 
 
 Primus ergo modus est cum subjectum recipit ad- 
 juncta insita sive inhserentia. Sic anima est subjectum 
 scJentias, ignorautiae, virtutis, vitii ; quia heec animpe 
 adjunguntur, i. e. praeter essentiam accedunt : corpus 
 sanitatis, morbi, roboris, infirmitatis, pulcbritudinis, 
 deformitatis ; quia corpori quidem insunt, sed praeter 
 essentiam. 
 
 Sccundus modus est subjecta adjuncta in se conti- 
 nentis, i. e. loci. Sic locus est subjectum rei locatre, 
 sive in quo res locata continetur. Sic philosophi di- 
 vinis cntibus, licet parte et magnitudinc carentibus, 
 attribuunt locum. Sic geometrae lucum locique diffe- 
 rcntias in rebus geometricis. Phjsici multo etiam 
 diligentius in rebus physicis considerant, in mundo, 
 in dementis simplicibus, in rebus compositis. Hinc 
 nonnulli dialectici suae artis amplificaudtc studio, ut 
 motus, ita loci doctrinam in logica tractandam esse con- 
 tendunt. Verum cum locus externa sit affectio cujus- 
 vis natursB sive corporeae sive incorporeae, miror quid 
 illis. Rami pra;sertim discipulis, in mentem vcnerit, ut 
 cum argumcnta, i. e. non res, sed rationes subjectum 
 esse logicoe doceant; res tamen aut rerum naturalium 
 affectiones, motum, locum, tempus in logica tractandas 
 esse statuerent. Locus inquiunt omnium omnino rerum 
 communis est : ergo, inquam, ad artem aliquam non 
 corporum duntaxat, sed rerum naturalium omnium sive 
 pbjsicam, universalem, non ad logicam pertinet: qute 
 non quid sit locus, spatiumne an superficies coi*poris 
 ambientis, sed quomodo arguat rem locatam, id solum 
 coMsiderat; nempe ut subjectum arguit adjunctum. 
 
 Tertius modus est subjecti ad vel circa se recipientis 
 adjuncta; quae idcirco "adjacentia et circumstantiee" 
 appellantur. Sic homo est subjectum diviliarum, pau- 
 pertatis, honoris, infamiae, v^stitus, comitalus, ct cornm 
 fcr6 quae dicuntur " antecedentia, concomitantia, con- 
 sequcntia," si quam omnino affcctionera inter se habent 
 non necessariam ; quae causarum et efTectorum quaeqiie 
 ab bis orta sunt argumentorum aflfectio duntaxat esse 
 solet. Hactenus de subjecto recipiente. 
 
 Quartus modus est subjecti occupantis, iu quo nimi- 
 rum adjunctum occupatur et exercetur : atque hoc 
 
 propria objectum dicitur. Sic scnsilia scnsuum, ct ren 
 virtutibus ac vitiis propositae, subjecta vitiorum et vir- 
 tutum hoc modo nominanlur. Color est subjectum 
 visus, sonus subjectum auditus; quia hi seiisus in his 
 scnsilibus occupantur et exercentur. Virtutes et vitia 
 dcclarantur in ethicis hoc argumento : temperantia et 
 intemperantia, voluptate; fortitudo et ignavia, pcricu- 
 lis; libcralitas et avaritia, divitiis. Sic res numcrabilis 
 arithmeticae ; mensurabilis, ut ita dicam, geometrise 
 subjicitur. Ejusmodi subjecto Cicero 2 Agrar. dispu- 
 tat, inter Campanos nullam contentionem esse, quia 
 nullus sit honor : " Non glorise cupiditate," ait, " effere- 
 bantur, propterea quod ubi honos public^ non est, ibi 
 cupiditas gloriae esse non potest," &c. 
 
 CAP. XI. 
 
 De Adjuncto. 
 
 "Adjunctum est cui aliquid subjicitur," vel quod 
 affectum est ad argucndum subjectum. Doctrina ad- 
 juncti doctrinas subjecti per omnia respondet. Cicero 
 hoc argumentum " adjunctum " et " conjunctum " vocat. 
 Ab Aristotcle, accidens vocatur, nee male. Quicquid 
 enim ulli subjecto extrinsecus accidit, sive fortuito sive 
 non, adjunctum ejus est. Animi, corporisque, et totius 
 hominis bona et mala, quae dicuntur, adjuncta sunt 
 animi, corporis, hominis. 
 
 Cum igitur adjunctum subjecto praeter essentiam 
 accedat, non mutatur ejus accessione vel decessione es- 
 sentia subjecti, nequc aliud inde fit subjectum, sed 
 alio duntaxat modo se habet. Unde et modi, qui di- 
 cuntur, in adjunctis numerandi sunt. Sic in causis 
 " procreare" et " tueri," modi, ut supra dictum est, sive 
 adjuncta qua^dam vel efficientis vel efficiendi sunt. 
 
 " Hoc argumentum etsi subjecto est levius, attamen 
 est copiosius et frequentius." Subjecto suo levius est, 
 quia subjectum prius est, et adjuncti sui quodammodo 
 causa. Id quod de adjunctis non quibusvis verum esse 
 docebitur. Hinc Aristol. Phil. S. 1, "adjunctum sub- 
 jecto est posterius ratione, tempore, cognitione et na- 
 tura:" quod etiam de omni adjuncto ita duntaxat 
 verum est, si de tempore excipias, existentiam enim 
 adjuncti non spcctat logica, sed mutuara quam cum 
 subjecto habet affectionem qute utrobique sinuil est; 
 ita ut subjectum adjuncto non magis sit tempore prius 
 quam adjunctum subjecto ; sublato igitur subjecto, 
 toUitur adjunctum, ut " mortuus non est; ergo nee 
 miser est." Hinc strepitur in scholis, " ab est secundi 
 adjecti, ad est tertii adjecti, valet consequentia negan- 
 do." Et posito adjuncto, ponitur necessario subjectum ; 
 ut, "si mortuus est miser, certe necessario mortuus 
 est." Quod et sdfiolae sic balbutiunt ; " ab est ter- 
 tii adjecti, ad est secundi, valet consequentia affirman 
 do." Est autem adjunctum subjecto copiosius et 
 frequentius, quia unius ejusdcmque subjecti plurima 
 adjuncta esse possunt. Itaque quod de ejusmodi signis 
 ait Ovid. 2, de Remcd. 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METIIODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 871 
 
 Forsitan hocc aliquis (nam sunt quoquc) parva vocabit ; 
 Sed quae non prosunt singula, multa juvant. 
 
 Hue itaque refenintur sig-na, quie ad effecta potius 
 
 referenda sunt; vimquc arg-uendi perinde faabent ut 
 
 eorum causae certce sunt et cog-nitte. Sic tumor uteri 
 
 signum est gravidae; incertum tamen, quia causae tu- 
 
 moris iilius alise esse possunt ; lac mammarum multo 
 
 certius, quia causa certior et notior. Ejusdera generis 
 
 sunt signa physiognomonica, prognostica astralogorum 
 
 et medicorum. Itaque ut causae et effecta scientiam, 
 
 sic subjecta et adjuncta conjecturam ferepariunt. Hoc 
 
 genere argunienti Fannium Cha?reain Cicero pro Ros- 
 
 cio comoedo cavillatur: et ab adjuncta corporis ha- 
 
 ^^itudine, signa malitite colligit : " nonne ipsuni caput 
 
 ^Hk supcrcilia ilia pcnitus abrasa olerc malitiam, et cla- 
 
 ^^■itarc calliditatcni vidcntur? nonne ab imis unguibus 
 
 ^Hnquc iid verticem summum (si quam conjecturam affert 
 
 hornini tacita corporis figura) ex fraude, fallaciis, nieu- 
 
 daciisconslare totus videtur?" Sic Martial. 1.2, Zoilum 
 
 ludit : 
 
 " Crine ruber, nigcr ore, brcvis pede, luminc luscus, 
 Rem magnam praestas, Zoile, si bonus es." 
 
 Subjectorum porro modis, adjunctorum respondent 
 modi. Qucniadniodum igitur subjectum erat rcci- 
 picns vel occupans, ita adjunctum cstreceptum vel oc- 
 cupatum. Receptum vel in subjectum recipitur, vel 
 ad subjectum : quod in subjectum recipitur, vel sus- 
 tinetur ab eo, vel in co continetur aut collocatur: 
 quod sustinetur, est adjunctum insitum, sivc inbterens. 
 
 Primus ergo nsodus est adjunctorum inhtprentium 
 sive insitorum. Omninoque qualitates (qualitas autera 
 est qua res qualis dicitur) subjcctis praeter causas, i. e. 
 formas externas (quae etiam qualitatibus numerantur) 
 adjunctiP ; sive proprioe sint, qute omni solique subjecto 
 semper conveniunl, ut homini risus, equo binnitus, cani 
 latratus ; sive communes, qutecunque non sunt eo modo 
 propritB. Propria autem quatuor modis vulgo dicuntur: 
 soli, scd non omni; ut bomini proprium est mathema- 
 ticum esse, sed non omni: omni, sed non soli; ut 
 bipedem esse homini : omni et soli, sed non semper; ut 
 nomini canescere insenectute: omni, soli, et semper; ut 
 risibilcm esse homini : hoc demum ver^ proprium est et 
 reciprocum ; ita ut omnis homo sit risibilis, et omne risi- 
 bile, proprie dictum, sit homo. Adjunctum itaque propri- 
 um etsi natura est posterius subjecto, adeoque levius, 
 tempore tamen simul est, nobisque ferenotius; positoque 
 adjunct© proprio, ponitur subjectum, et contra : subjec- 
 tum enim* adjuncto proprie est modo quodamessentiale, 
 adjunctumque a forma subjecti fluit: habet igitur a 
 forma subjecti, non ab natura sua, quod subjectum ponit 
 et tollit. 
 
 Communis etiam qualitas est separabilis vel insepa- 
 rabilis : ut aquae frigus, qualitas. est separabilis; hu- 
 miditas vero inseparabilis ; utraque autem communis. 
 Atque istee qualitatum distinctiones, communium et 
 propriarum, separabilium et inseparabilium, ad judi- 
 cium faciendum valde sunt utiles, ut secundo libro fa- 
 cile perspiciomus. Ad hunc modum refertur etiam 
 quantitas, qua res magna; vel parvae, multat; vel paucce 
 
 dicuntur; et passio, qua res aliquid pati dicitur ; adeo- 
 que motus, ad rem motam si referatur, hujus loci est. 
 Hactenus de adjuncto quod in subjecto sustinetur. 
 
 Secundus modus est adjunctorum qute continetur in 
 subjecto, ut locatum in loco: atque hue etiam situs 
 locorum refertur; nisi si cui ad primum potius modum 
 rcfereudus videatur : cum situs passio sit quoedam rei 
 locatcD, et ad priorem modum sic pertineat. Atque haec 
 de adjunctis quae in subjectum recipiuntur. 
 
 Tertius modus est adjunctorum quae recipiuntur ad 
 subjectum ; quae vulgo circumstantia; nuncupantur, 
 quia extra subjectum sunt. Hue " tempus" refertur, 
 duratio nempe rcrum pneterita, prtesens, futura. Sic 
 etiam Deus dicitur qui est, qui erat, et qui futurus est, 
 Apocal. 1, 8, et 4, 8. Deo tamen eevum sive aeternitas, 
 uon tempus attribui solct: quid autem est aevum 
 proprie, nisi duratio perpetua, Groecti diwv, quasi 
 dii wv semper existens. Sed quod superioribus capi- 
 tibus de motu et loco, idem nunc de tempore monendum 
 est; non pertinere ad logicam quid sit tempus philo- 
 sophari, sed quo in genere argumenti ponendum sit, 
 hie nempe in adjunctis. Hue etiam referuntur divitiae, 
 paupertas, honor, infamia, vestitus, comitatus, et 
 ejusmodi quicquid adesse, adjacere, circumstare, aut 
 citra vim causa; antecedere, concomitari, sequi, ut su- 
 pra in subjecto diximus, dici potest; vel, ut Cic. in 
 Top. Quicquid ante rem, cum re, post rem, dummodo 
 uon necessario, evenit. 
 
 Quo circumstantiue genere, " Dido venetum proficis- 
 cens, maguificc 4 iEneid. depingitur : 
 
 " Occanum interea surgens Aurora reliquit. 
 It portis, jubare exorto, delecta juventus : 
 Retia rara, plagae, lato venabula ferro," &c. 
 
 In hoc exemplo Dido est subjectum: cujus adjuncta 
 adjacentia sive circumstantiae varitc hie enumerantur: 
 1. " Tempus, oceanum interea," &c. 2. "Comitntus," 
 nimirura " delecta juventus, equites," principes " Poc- 
 norura." 3. Instrumenta (quae quatenus ad habentera 
 referuntur) adjuncta ; et hujus quidem modi sunt, 
 " retia, plagff, venabula, canes, sonipes." 4. Habitus 
 sive vestitus, " Sidonia chlamjs, purpurea vestis," &c. 
 Atque haec de adjuncto rccepto. 
 
 Quartus modus est adjuncti occupati. "Et"eniin 
 " adjunctorum ad subjecta, quibus occupantur, usus 
 item magnus." 
 
 Hoc argumento " Plato miscras civitates auguratur, 
 qua; medicorum et judicium multitudine indigeant, 
 quia multam quoque et intemperantiam et injustitiam 
 in ea civitate versari necesse sit." Quia nempe in 
 effectis intemperantiae sanandis, medici; in effectis 
 injustitias vindicandis, judices tanquam adjuncti occu- 
 pati in subjecto suo occupante versantur. 
 
 "Sed categoria" sive locus argumentorum " con- 
 sentaneorum sic est, unde quidvis alteri consentaneum, 
 vel idem vel unum dici possit: omnesque modi uni- 
 tatis et (ut ita dicam) identitatis hue sunt tanquam ad 
 primas et simplices fontes referendi." 
 
 Ad explicandum consentaneorum in comparationi- 
 bus usum haec clausula adjecta est. Namque ut con- 
 sensionis omnis duorum in uno tertio, ita et unitatis 
 
872 
 
 ARTIS LOGICiE PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 modo hinc sunt petendi. Quot autcm niodis plura 
 dicuntur inter se cousentire, tot ctiam niodis dicun- 
 tur ununi ct idem : absolute scilicet aut modo qno- 
 dam : absolute ununi vel idem causa ct cfTecto; mode 
 quodam unum ct idem subjecto et adjuncto. Cuusa 
 vel efficiente vel materia vel forma vel fine. Sic plu- 
 res statute efficiente sunt ceedera, si cjusdcm artificis ; 
 materia, si ex eadem, auro scilicet aut eborc ; forma, si 
 effigies ejusdcm, Alexandri puta vol Cajsaris ; fine, si 
 ad eundem omandum. Sic subjecto idem sunt ad- 
 juncta duo vel plura ineodem subjecto; adjuncto idem 
 sunt plura subjccta quibus idem adjungitur : ut duoc 
 Tel plures res alboe vel nigroe, albedine vel nigredine 
 idem sunt. 
 
 CAP. XII. 
 
 De Diversis. 
 
 " Argdmentdm consentaneum expositum est" in 
 causa et effecto, subjecto et adjuncto. 
 
 Altera species argumenti artificialis, prinii, simplicis, 
 dissentaneum, sequitur. Et sequi debet : ut cnim 
 affirmatio negatione, sic consensio prior est dissen- 
 sione ; prior autem non natura solum, verum etiam usu 
 et dignitate. Ab affirmationc enim et consensione, ut 
 scientia omnis, ita ars omnis atque doctrina deducitur. 
 
 " Dissentaneum est quod dissentit a re" quam ar- 
 guit. Ab altero nempe sui generis ac nominis dissen- 
 taneo. Nam in hoc geuere argumentorum, argumenta 
 inter se affecta eodem nomine, ideoque plurali numero 
 enunciantur, eademque definitione et doctrina expli- 
 cantur. 
 
 " Sunt autem dissentanea inter se tequh manifesta: 
 alterumque ab altero fequaliter arguitur ; tametsi sua 
 dissensionc clarius elucescant." 
 
 Hac dux sunt proprietates dissentaneorum commu- 
 nes. Primum n. in consentaneis causes effectis, sub- 
 jecta adjunctis, priora, notiora, firmiora, praestantiora 
 fuerunt: in dissentancis altcrum altero neque prius 
 Deque notius; sed natura simul, in ilia nempe dissen- 
 sionc, et eeque nota, sequ^ firma inter se sunt: id quod 
 necesse est cum eodem nomine ac definitione trac- 
 tentur. 
 
 Secunda quoque proprietas, quam Aristoteles cou- 
 trariis alligat, dissentaneorum est omnium communis; 
 nempe "sua dissensione clarius elucescere." Quod 
 nisi fieret, argumentura dissentaneorum nullius usus 
 asset. Debet enim omne argumentum affectum esse 
 ad aliquid arguendum ct illustrandum. Quorum autem 
 liaec est proprietas ut oeque nota et ignota sint, eorum 
 alterum ab altero argui autillustrari non potest. Priori 
 igitur proprietati secunda haec subvenit : quamvis enim 
 dissentanea sint inter se aeque manifesta, ita ut unum 
 ab altero tanquam notion argui non queat, ex dissen- 
 sione tamen sua, sive, ut aliiloquuntur, juxtaseposita, 
 clarius eluccscunt. Sic bonoe valctudinis commoda ad- 
 vcrsae valctudinis incommodis mauifestiora fiunt; vir- 
 
 tutum laudes contrariorum vituperatione vitiorum illus- 
 trantur. 
 
 Utiles itaque sunt hi loci dissentaneorum, teste etiam 
 Aristotele, Top. 3, 4, non solum ad arguendum et illus- 
 trandum, verum etiam ad impcllenduniac refutandum: 
 ut cnim consentaneorum loci valcnt maxinie ad arguen- 
 dum, probandum, et confirmandum, sic loci dissentaneo- 
 rum ad redarguendum, impellendum, et refutandum: ut 
 qui consentaneo argumento doccri non vult, dissentanei 
 absurda consecutione eo redigatur, ut nolens etiam non 
 possit veritati non assentiri. Hinc Aristot. Rbet. 3, 
 17, "refutantia demonstrativis" anteponit 
 
 " Dissentanea sunt diversa vel opposita. 
 
 " Diversa sunt dissentanea, quae sola ratione dissen- 
 tiunt." Nomen hoc videtur aptissimum ad banc Icvis- 
 simam dissensionem significandam : hac enim voce ea 
 significantur, quce ciim consensionem quandam inter 
 se habere videantur, possintque per se suaque natura 
 eidem subjecto simul convenire, tamen nee idem sunt, 
 nee ei subjecto competunt cujus ratione dissentire 
 dicuntur: quse autem dissentiunt in eodem terlio, dis- 
 sentiunt etiam inter se. 
 
 Sola igitur ratione dissentiunt, quia non per se sua- 
 que natura dissentiunt, sed solummodo ratione attribu- 
 tionis, i. e. ratione ac respectu alicujus subjecti, eui 
 simul non attribuuntur. Distributio itaque dissenta- 
 neorum pro ratione dissensionis recteinstitutaest: nam 
 ut consensio alia arctior est et absoluta, alia remissior 
 et imperfecta (unde conscntanea divisa sunt in ea quae 
 absolute vel modo quodam consenliunt) ita dissensio 
 omnis vel remissior est, ut in distinctione sive discretione 
 diversorum, vel acrior, ut in disjunctione oppositorum: 
 ergo dissentanea aut ratione et modo quodam dissen- 
 tiunt, ut diversa, aut re et absolute, ut opposita. Verum 
 quod dc consentaneis etiam objici potuit, speciebus 
 eeque communicandura est genus (has enim voces etiam 
 communi usu citra artem vulgo intellectus, pace me- 
 thodi nonnunquam anticipare fas sit) respondetur, 
 queraadmodum conscntanea absolute et modo quodam 
 erant aeque conscntanea, sed non aeque conscntiebant ; 
 sic diversa et opposita aeque dissentanea sunt, sed 
 non (cquc dissentiunt; in diversis tam est dissensio 
 quam in oppositis, sed non tanta: ut in re simili Cic. 
 dc Fin. 4, " reque contingit omnib. fidibus, ut incon- 
 tentae sint ; illud non continue, ut sequ^ incontentae." 
 Diversa autem idcirco priore loco tractantur, quod 
 propter levissimam dissensionem videntur affinitatem 
 quandam cum consentaneis prse se ferre. Quanquam 
 autem diversorum doctrina ab omnibus proetcr Ranium 
 logicis omissa est, constat tamen locum in argumento- 
 rum doctrina diversis etiam assignandum, cum ex ar- 
 guendi varia affectione argumenta distinguenda sint, 
 affectio autem dissensionis in diversis, ut diximus, levior 
 sit, in oppositis acrior. Cur diversa logici hactenus 
 omiserint, videtur hoc esse; quod ad unum syllogis- 
 mum omnia referunt, in quo diversa locum non babent, 
 ut 1. 2, ostendetur. 
 
 Diversorum autem notoe sunt frequentissime "non 
 hoc, sed illud, quanquam, tamen :" ut pro Pompeio; 
 " nou victoriam, sed insignia victorifc reportarunt." 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 873 
 
 Victoria et victoriae insignia resadmodum affincssunt; 
 possuntque acdebent eidem duciconipetcre : ad Syllam 
 autcm et Murainam si spectas, qui non reportata vic- 
 toria triumpharunt, dissentanea sunt, et disting'uuntur, 
 altcroque affirmato altcrum negatur. Sic Ovid. 2, de 
 Arte: 
 
 " Non formosus erat, sed erat facundus Ulysses." 
 
 Et Virg. ^neid. 2. 
 
 " Hie Priamus quanquam in media jam morte tenetur, 
 Non tamen abstinuit." 
 
 Ut victoria et victorise insignia respectu Sylloe et 
 Muraense, sic formosum et facundum respectu Ulyssis, 
 in media morte teneri et non abstinerc a convitiis rati- 
 one Priami, diversa adeoque di»scutanea sunt. Paulo 
 secus in Eunucho : 
 
 " Nam si ego digna hac contnmelia 
 
 Sum maxime : at tu indigniis qui faceres tamen." 
 
 Sed idem est ac si dictum esset, quanquam ego dig- 
 na; tamen tu indignus qui mihi banc contumeliam 
 faceres. Dignam se quidem esse contumelia Tbais af- 
 firniat; a Cbrerca tamen negat. Cic. 5 Tusc. " Quan- 
 quam sensu corporis judicantur, ad animum tamen 
 referuntur." Hoc affirmato, negatum intelligitur non 
 ad corpus. 
 
 Item ilia aliusmodi. Pro Ligario : " scelus tu illud 
 vocas, Tubcro? cur? isto n. nomine ilia adliuc causa 
 caruit : alii enim errorem appellant, alii timorem ; qui 
 durius, spem, cupiditatem, odi-im, pertinaciam; qui 
 gravissime, temeritatcm : scelus prteter te adhuc nemo." 
 In hoc geuere exemplorum aliquid conceditur, ut aliud 
 vicinum possit negari : cujusmodi et illud est; Veritas 
 premi potest, opprimi non potest ; et similia. 
 
 Atque hi modi quidam diversorum sunt : in qiiibus 
 plerunque accidit, ut qua; sua natura sunt opposita, 
 ratione tamen certi alicujus subjecti sint tantum diver- 
 sa ; ut in exemplo superiore error, timor, spes, cupiditas, 
 pertinacia, scelus. Sic aurum, argcntum, ces opposita 
 sunt, ut infra liquebit: ratione tamen attributionis huic 
 vcl illi subjecto, qui unuin vel aliqua borum habet, 
 alterum vel reliqua non habet, cum habere simul possit, 
 diversa sunt. 
 
 CAP. XIII. 
 
 De Disparatis. 
 
 " Opposita " sunt " dissentanea, qure ratione et re 
 dissentiunt." Opposita respondent nomine quidem iis, 
 quae ab Aristoteleavriicti/xfva dicuntur; sed re etsignifi- 
 catione latins patent ; nam avriKHHiva Aristoteli (qui 
 disparata non attigit) nihil aliud quam "contraria" 
 sunt. Possunt etiam " repugnantia" dici ; siquidem 
 repugnare ea dicuntur, quae ejusmodi sunt, ut cobse- 
 rere nunquam possint; quod Cic. ait in Top. ejusmodi 
 enim sunt oj)posita. " Re " autem " et ratione," est non 
 
 solum ratione certi alicujus subjecti, cui cum tribuun- 
 tur, simul non conveniunt, verum etiam reipsa, i. e. per 
 se et inter se, sua ipsorum natura disscJitire, etiam sub- 
 jecto cuivis non attributa; cui si tribuuntur, non solilra 
 non conveniunt, sed, scrvata, quae sequitur, oppositorum 
 lege, convenire non possunt. Ea lex quee ex ipsa defi- 
 nitione oritur, et est oppositorum omnium communis, 
 non, ut docuit Aristoteles, contrariorum propria, haec est, 
 " Opposita eidem attribui, secundum idem, ad ide«i, et 
 eodem tempore non possunt." " Eidem," i. e. eidem 
 uuniero, rei, sive subjecto. " Secundum idem," i. e. 
 eadem parte. " Ad idem," i. e. eodem respectu ; ut, 
 " sol et major est terra et minor ;" sed non eodem re- 
 spectu ; in se quidem, major ; ut nobis videtur, minor. 
 Extra has tres conditiones possunt eidem subjecto at- 
 tribui opposita. " Sic Socrates, albus et ater non potest 
 secuJKlum idem, i. c. eadem parte esse; pater et filius 
 ejusdem," sive ad eundem relatus ; "sanus et trger 
 eodem tempore : at albus esse potest alia parte, ater 
 alia ; pater hujus, filius illius ; sanus hodie, eras aeger." 
 
 " Itaque ex altcro affirmato alterum negatur." 
 
 " Ex quo facile apparet quid intersit inter diversa et 
 opposita : in illis enim " altero "affirmato ;" in his, " ex 
 altero affirmato" alterum negatur : i. e. ex affirmatione 
 unius, necessario sequitur negatio altcrius. Ut, sumpto 
 ex diversis exemplo, " non victoriam, sed insignia 
 victoriic rcportarunt:" hie insignia victoriae affirmau- 
 tur, victoria negatur ; non ex his affirmatis negatur 
 ilia : at in oppositis, dicta lege scrvata, Socrates est 
 homo, ergo non estequus: juxta illud; " opposita se 
 invicem toUunt. 
 
 " Opposita autem sunt disparata aut contraria. 
 
 " Disparata sunt opposita quorum unum multis pari- 
 ter opponitur." 
 
 Disparalorum ergo remissior videtur esse oppositio, 
 contrariorum acrior. Disparata etiam a Boetbio nomi- 
 nantur, " qua; tantum a se diversa sunt, nulla eontra- 
 rictate pugnantia," ut vcstis, ignis. Apud Ciceronem 
 tamen, Invent. 1, et Fabium, I. 5, c. 10, contradicentia 
 significant. Nos verborum inopia coacti, Boetbium 
 sequimur. Multis, nempe sine ulla certa oppositionis 
 lege aut numero : nam et infinitab fere res hoc modo op- 
 poni inter se possunt: et sic intclligendum est verbum 
 opponitur, juxta illud; " Vocabula in artibus faculta- 
 tem significant:" ut vestis et ignis etsi res duau, inter 
 se tamen disparata sunt, c6 quod multis pariter opponi 
 possunt. Pariter: i. e. ceque pari ratione, eodem dis- 
 sensionis modo : ut enim disparata sint, non multis 
 tantum, sed pariter opponi debent. Albedo opponitur 
 nigredini, flavedini, rubedini, ut unum pluribus; non 
 autem singulis ut disparatum, quia non pariter : nigre- 
 dini enim opponitur ut contrarium, caeteris rebus om- 
 nibus ut disparatum. Viride, cineraceum, rubrum, me- 
 dia sunt inter album et nigrum, qua; singula extremis, 
 et inter se disparata sunt. Sic liberalitas et avaritia 
 inter se disparantur. Sic homo, arbor, lapis, et ejus- 
 modi res infinitse disparantur; nee eadem res potest 
 esse homo, arbor, lapis. Virgil. I jEneid. hoc argu- 
 mento disputat : 
 
 " quam te memorem, virgo ! namque baud tibi vultus 
 Mortalis; nee vox homincm sonat : o dca ecrte." 
 
874 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 CAP. XIV. 
 
 De Relatis. 
 
 " Contra Ri A sunt opposita, quorum unum uni (all- 
 ium opponitur." 
 
 Intellijfitur aiitcm unum uni in codem {jenere opponi 
 contrarioruni, ut rclatorum unum uni tantum, et sic in 
 reliquis : nam in divcrsis spccicbus contrariorum, plura 
 possunt ut contraria, uni cidemque rei opponi ; ut " vi- 
 dcnti, non videns, et caecus; motui, raotus contrarius, 
 et quies ; servo, dominus, et liber." 
 
 Quae Aristotclcs avriiefttva et avTiKiifiiva, ea Cicero 
 in Topicis (qucm Ramus sequitur) contraria appellat : 
 quas etiara in species quatuor Aristotclcs avriKdntva, 
 in easdem Cicero contraria distribuit. 
 
 Prius autem quam ad contrariorum distributionem 
 in species accedimus, inserenda est distinctio quaedam 
 non inutilis, et ad ea quae diximus capite superiore 
 clarii^s intelligenda, ct ad eas, qure secundo libro di- 
 ccntur, disjunctiones necessarias a contigentibns diju- 
 dicandas. Dictum est superiore capite, viride, cinera- 
 ceum, rubrum, media esse inter album et nigrum, quse 
 singula extremis et inter se disparata sunt. Sciendum 
 itaquc est contraria, quasi extrcma quaedam, habere 
 alia medium, alia medio carere: medium vel est nega- 
 tionis vel participationis ; ex Aristotele, Top. 4, 3, et 
 Phil. V, 7. Medium negationis est quicquid inter duo 
 contraria dici potest, quod sit neutrum eorum : ut inter 
 prteceptorem et discipulum, is qui neque est praeceptor 
 nequc discipulus. Medium participationis est, quod 
 utriusquc extremi naturam participat; ut viride inter 
 album et nigrum, tcpidum inter calidum et frigidura. 
 Contrariorum igitur quae medium habcnt, non est 
 necesse alterutrum affirmari ; potest enim affirmari 
 medium : quee autem medio carent, eorum alterum 
 necesse est affirmari. Qusenam autem contraria me- 
 dium habeant aut non habeant, ex eo dignoscitur quod 
 et Gcllius tradit, 1. 16, Noct. Att. c. 8. Contraria 
 quorum contradicentia, cum attribuuntur ei subjecto 
 cui proprie possunt attribui, sunt etiam inter se contra- 
 ria, ea medium non habent. Sanum et cegrum contra- 
 ria sunt: eorum contradicentia, non sanum non aegrum, 
 si animali attribuas cui soli possunt attribui, contraria 
 etiam reperies : non sanum enim, est segrum : non 
 eegrum, sanum ; sanum ergo et aegrum medio carent : 
 sic nox et dies, non nox et non dies, aequ^ sunt inter se 
 contraria ; non nox enim, est dies ; non dies, nox ; 
 medio igitur carent : sic visu proeditum, et coecum esse, 
 si homini tribuis. Quorum vero contradicentia non 
 sunt contraria, ea medium habent : ut projceptor et 
 discipulus ; non praeceptor enim, non est discipulus ; 
 neque non discipulus, est preeceptor ; etenim potest 
 alterutcr aliquid esse tertium sive medium. Sic album 
 et nigrum : namque non album et non nigrum de quo- 
 vis colore medio dici possunt. Nunc ad distributionem 
 contrariorum veniamus. 
 
 " Contraria sunt aOirmantia aut ncgantia. 
 "Aflirmantia, quorum utrumquc affirmat." Scilicet 
 rem, sive veram sive fictam ; vel quorum vox utraque 
 
 rem certam ponit atque significat ; quorumque unum 
 alteri ut res rei opponitur; ut pater filio, calor frigori. 
 Contraria itaque affirmantia, quod hie notandum est 
 distinguendum, sunt quorum utrumquc affirmat rem, 
 non affirmatur de re sive subjecto eodem, id enim 
 snpradictoe oppositorum regulae, qua ex allero affirmato 
 alterum negatur, plane repuguaret. Quas igitur affir- 
 mat rem aut negat, topica affirraatio aut negatio di- 
 citur; quce res de alio affirmatur aut negatur axionia- 
 tica, de qua lib. 2. 
 
 " Contraria affirmantia sunt relata aut adversa. 
 " Relata sunt, quorum alterum constat ex mutua 
 altcrius affijctione." 
 
 Atque ita quidem ut ex eorum ilia mutua affectione, 
 contrarietas ipsa nascatur, ut infra demonstrabitur. 
 Quid ergo ; num idcirco relata nunc consentanea nunc 
 dissentanea sunt ? Ncquaquam, ut relata quidem : sed 
 ea tamen qutc relata sunt, aliis atque aliis argumento- 
 rum gcucribus possunt subjici ; ipsa interim argumen- 
 torum geneia inconfusa etdistinctamanent. Sic causa 
 et effijctum, qutE arguendo inter sc relata sunt, adeo- 
 que dissentanea et teque manifesta, suam tamen vim 
 propriam arguendi retinent, qua et consentanea sunt, 
 et causa prior notiorque effecto. Relata esse contraria 
 ex definitione et consectariis contrariorum liquet; sunt 
 enim opposita, quorum unum uni tantum opponitur, ut 
 pater et filius. At, inquis, unus multis, pater filiis, 
 frater fratribus, praeceptor discipulis, herus famulis, 
 opponi potest. Respondetur, opponi patrem filio ut 
 relatum; neque alind quicquam patri quam filium, 
 neque filio quam patrem ; et sic de cactcris: sed hunc 
 patrem et hunc filium, hunc preeceptorem et hunc dis- 
 cipulum, Sec. non esse relata, sed disparata : neque 
 enim horum alter ex mutua alterius affisctione constat; 
 neque natura simul sunt, et alter sine altero existcre 
 potest. Itaque primae substantiae, sive individua et 
 singularia, ut ait Aristotclcs, Categor. 5, non sunt re- 
 lata. Et Categor. 6, ait multa genera "relata esse, 
 singularia vero nulla :" sed non video cur relata, qucm- 
 admodum et alia argumenta, etiam in singularibus 
 considerari non possunt ; singularia enim exempla 
 sunt fere omnia. Nee magis video cur in uno relato 
 singulari non possit ad correlata multa esse multiplex 
 relatio ; dummodo relatio una numero inter bina tan- 
 tummodo sit, totiesque consideretur quot sint correlata ; 
 patris nimirum toties quot sunt filii; filii quot sunt 
 parentes, pater nempe et mater; fratris, quot sunt fra- 
 tres et sorores : nam nisi quicquid de relatis in genere 
 dici solet, de singulis quoque relatis verb dicatur. Id 
 ne toto quidem de genere vere dici posset. Si reponas 
 ex Aristot. Philos. 5, Relata non significare existen- 
 tiam, ne caetera quidem argumenta id significant sed 
 mutuara tantummodo aflTectionera. Sunt affirmantia, 
 i. e. ut duffi voces sunt, ita etiam duae sunt res inter 
 se opposita: ; ut pater, filius. Constare autem alterum 
 ex mutua alterius affectione, est nullam aliani habere 
 essentiani, quatenus relata sunt, praHcr nuituam illam 
 unius affectionem ad alterum et altcrius ad illud. 
 " Atque inde nominata sunt relata," quod ad se invi- 
 ccm referuntur, totaquc illorum natura in relatione 
 consistit. Sic patrem esse, est habere filium ; filium 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 875 
 
 esse, est habere patrem. Hinc illud , Omnia relata 
 convertuntur : ut pater est filii pater; filius est patris 
 filius. Hiijiis mutua afl'ectionis ratioiie relata sunt 
 mutuse sibi causae et mutui effectus, nam quod quis 
 pater est, id habet a filio ; quod filius, a patre : et ta- 
 men hujus mutute affectionis vi ita sibi invicem oppo- 
 nuntur, ut neque unum de altero ncc ambo de tertio 
 dici possint ; ut ^neas est pater Ascanii, erffo non est 
 Ascanii filius; Ascanius est filius Mnew, ergo non est 
 ^netE pater. Sed quoniam relatorum unum constat 
 ex mutua alterius affectione, mutuaeque sibi, ut dixi- 
 mus, causee atque efiecta sunt, consectarium hoc inde 
 est quod seqiiitur. 
 
 " Relata simul sunt natura : ut qui alterum perfecte 
 norit, norit et reliquum." 
 
 Relata autem simul esse natura docuerunt et veteres 
 logici, Aristoteles, Damascenus, et alii ; relataque se 
 mutuo inferre mutuoque tollcre; ut posito patre, po- 
 natur filius; sublato, itidem tollatur: etiamsi enim ille 
 manct qui filius fuit, non tamen filius manet. Neque 
 solum unum existere nequit sine altero, sed ne intelligi 
 quidem. Necesse est i<jitur, quod et meminit Aristot. 
 Top. 3, " Ut alterum in alterius definitione compre- 
 hendatur;" utque alterum perfecte, i. e. definite, qui 
 norit, norit continue alterius definitionem ; qute sicuti 
 et essentia eoruni, reciproca est. Supra itaque Ramus 
 definivit subjectum, " cui aliud adjungitur ;" non, 
 " quod alteri subjicitur," ut alii malcbant ; etiamsi bis 
 verbis non modo essentia subjecti, sed etiam notatio 
 contineri videatur : deinde adjunctum definivit, "cui 
 aliquid subjicitur," non quod alteri adjungitur, quia 
 subjectum ct adjunctum relata sunt; et subjectum ad- 
 juncti, adjunctum subjecti, ex qua alterum alterius 
 mutua aflTectione constat, ea erat dcfiniendum, quce 
 ipsoruin essentia est. Ad exempla nunc veniamus. 
 
 Pro Marcello : "Ex quo profccto intelligis quanta 
 in dato beneficio sit laus, cum in accepto tanta sit glo- 
 ria." Hie dare et accijjcre relata sunt, quorum unius 
 consequens ex consequente alterius intelligi ait Cicero. 
 Martialis in Sosibianum, 1. 1. 
 
 " Turn servum scis de genitum, blandeque fateris ; 
 Cum dicis dominuni, Sosibiane, patrem." 
 
 Arguebat se servum esse genitum Sosibianus, dum 
 negare videbatur, quia dominum vocabat patrem. Sic 
 apud Quintilianum, 1. 5, c. 10. " Si portorium Rho- 
 diis locare honestum est, et Hermacreonti conducere." 
 Quoniodo et in Oratore Perfecto Tullius : " Num igitur 
 est periculum, ait, nequis putet in magna arte et glo- 
 riosa turpe esse docere alios id quod ipsi fuerit ho- 
 nestum discere?" Apud Ovidium in cetatis ferreae 
 descriptione, Metam. 1, varia relatorum exempla afle- 
 runtur : 
 
 " Non hospes ab hospite tutus, 
 
 Non socer a genero : fratrum quoque gratia rara est. 
 Imminet exitio vir conjugis, ilia mariti : 
 Lurida terribiles miscent aconita novercse : 
 Filius ante diem patrios inquirit in annos." 
 
 " Atqui argumentum talis relationis contrarium nihil 
 habet, immo arguit mutuas causas :" ut sum tuus pa- 
 
 ter; tu es igitur meus filius. At quum dico, sum tuus 
 pater; non igitur sum tuus filius, tum contraria vcre 
 sunt; atque ex ipsa quidem hac mutua relatione. 
 
 CAP. XV. 
 
 De Adversis, 
 
 " Adversa sunt contraria affirmantia, qute inter se 
 velut 6 region© absolute adversantur." 
 
 Sic etiam a Cicerone appellantur in Topicis. Sunt 
 contraria, quia eorum unum uni tantuni op])onitur; ut 
 honestum turpi: duo n. duntaxat possunt sibi iuvicem 
 e regione adversari. Sunt afllrmantia ; quia unum 
 uni opponitur, ut res rei; quod supra demonstratum 
 est, et infra clarius patebit. His autem verbis " e re- 
 gione absolutd advei-santur," nibil aliud quam directa 
 oppositio, adeoque maxima, intelligitur; qualis est 
 inter duo puncta diametri in eodem circulo. His etiam 
 verbis distinguuntur adversa a suis mcdiis, quae inter 
 se et cum extremis disparantur. Absolute ; i. e. ora- 
 nino, perfecte ; ut in consentaneis, quae absolute con- 
 sentiebant. Ramus perpetuo dixerat: sed assentior 
 aliis, qui absolute nialunt; nam perpetuo opponi, om- 
 nib. oppositis etiam relatis, commune est, quatciius 
 opposita sunt, i. e. ratione et re dissenliunt. Absolute) 
 autem additur, ut hac particula distingui adversa pos- 
 sint a relatis, in quibus consensio quajdam est, quate- 
 nus alterum ex mutua constat alterius aflTectione, cujus- 
 modi hie omnino nulla est. Sic albor et nigror, calor et 
 frigus opponuntur. 
 
 Aristoteles, contraria (sic enim adversa vocat Catcg. 
 G) definit, " quse plurimum inter se distant in eodem 
 genere:" et rursus Categ. 8, " Contraria sunt vel in 
 eadem specie, vel in eodem genere." Quem Cic. est 
 secutus in Top. et Galen de Opt. secta. Verum adversa, 
 ut docet idem Arist. cap. de Contrariis, non in eodem 
 solum genere plurimum difTerunt, ut album ct nigrum, 
 verum etiam in contrariis, ut justitia et injustitia; vel 
 ipsa genera, ut bonum et malum, virtus et vitium. Quid 
 quod in eodem genere differre, commune videtur adver- 
 sis cum relatis: pro eodem igitur genere, rectius in defi- 
 nitione ponitur d regione, prout Cicero interpretatur. 
 iEneid. 11. 
 
 " Nulla salus bello ; pacem te poscimus omnes." 
 
 Libertas et servitus apud Tibullum, 1, 2. 
 
 " Sic mihi servitium video, dominamque paratam ;" 
 Tu mihi libertas ilia paterna vale." 
 
 Sic consilium et casus ; pro Marcello : " nunquam 
 enim temeritas cum sapientia commiscetur, nee ad con- 
 silium casus admittitur." Et Parad. 1, contra Epicu- 
 reos: "illud tamen arete tenent accurateque dcfendunt, 
 voluptatem esse summum bonum : quse quidem mihi 
 vox pecudum videtur, non hominum," &c. Pecudem 
 et hominem adversa Cicero opposuit: voluptas pecudis 
 bonum est, non igitur hominis. Usus enim hujus argu- 
 
676 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 mcnti non in qualitatibus duntaxat, iit vul^jfo putant, 
 ▼eriim in substantiis etiam ct quantitatibus, iinnio om- 
 iiibus in rebus versatur : id qiiud Aristut. noii diiiiletur, 
 cum ail Pbil. x. 3, " Contraria etiam ad primas cutis 
 diflfercntias referri:" etrursus; " in omni genere con- 
 trarictateni esse." Contrarietas deinde argunieutura 
 esse logicum ab omnibus agnuscitur: nihil ergo obstat 
 quominus ad quoevis rerum genera pertineat. Quoe- 
 dam denique formre vel maxiine substantite sunt : for- 
 mas autcm specificas omnes sibi invicem adversas esse, 
 apud omnes receptissimum est: immo vero major vide- 
 tur esse formarum contrarietas quam qualitatum ; qua- 
 litates enim commisceri facile possunt, formae vix un- 
 quani. Quod ergo idem Aristot. alibi docet, substantia; 
 et quantitati nihil esse contrarium, id non ratione tan- 
 tiim, sed ipsius etiam testimonio supra citato refellitur; 
 non substantiarum autem pugna etsi non physica, lo- 
 gica tamcn est, dum ex altera substantia singulari 
 affirmata, negatur altera. 
 
 CAP. XVI. 
 
 De Contradicentibus. 
 
 " Contraria negantia sunt, quorum alterum ait, 
 alterum negat idem." Ab altero negante sic nominan- 
 tur: in puris enim negantibus, ut loquuntur, nullus 
 est rationis usus. Atque hinc demum nunc clarius pa- 
 tet, queenam essent contraria affirmantia : de quibus 
 ciim dictum est, de negantibus quoque est dictum quod 
 satis sit. 
 
 " £a sunt contradicentia aut privantia. 
 
 " Contradicentia sunt contraria negantia, quorum 
 alterum negat ubique :" ut Justus, non Justus ; animal, 
 non animal ; est, non est. 
 
 " Contradicentia sunt contraria," quia una negatio 
 uni affirmalioni opponitur, et contra ; immo sine me- 
 dio. Sic etiam Aristot. Post. 1,2, " Con trad ictio est 
 oppositio cujus nullum est medium per se." Quorum 
 alterum negat ubique ; i. e. in re qualibet : negare 
 enim ubique est de re qualibet dici, de qua affirmatum 
 non dicitur; ut de quo vidct non dicitur, de eo non 
 videt dicitur. Unde illud vulgo dictum, " contradicen- 
 tia sunt omnia : " et illud Aristot. 1, Post. 1,2," quod- 
 vis verb est vel affirmare vcl negare: vere affirmare et 
 negare simul, impossibile est," et Top. 6, 3, de quali- 
 bet re vel afiirmatio vel negatio vere dicitur." Alte- 
 rum autem negare ubique dicitur, vel expresse vel im- 
 plicit^. Express^ ut supra, cum negandi particula : 
 implicit^, ciim reipsa non minus contradicit ct repug- 
 nat alteri, quam si verbo negaret; ut corpus infinitum, 
 proprietas communis. Vulgo vocatur contradictio in 
 adjecto; quia id subjecto adjungit quod subjectum 
 plane toUit ; atque ita contradictionem implicat. At- 
 que hinc etiam est quod contradicentia medio carent 
 non solum participationis, verum etiam negationis, quia 
 necesse est affirmare vcl negare uuum quodvis de al- 
 
 tero. Sic etiam Boethius in Topicis : " inter affirnia- 
 tionem et uegationem nulla est medietas." Contra- 
 diceotium porro exempla htec sunt. In defensione 
 Muraense contradicitur sentcntiis Catonis et Ciceronis ; 
 illius Stoici, bujus Academici. Dialogus est his verbis : 
 "nihil ignoveris: immo aliquid, non omnia. Nihil 
 gratiffi causa feceris: immo ne resistito gratiiv, cum 
 officium et fides postulabit. Misericordia commotus ne 
 sis ; etiam in dissolvenda severitate : scd tamcn est 
 aliqua laus humanitatis. In scntentia pcrmaneto : 
 enimvcro nisi sententia alia vicerit melior." In hoc 
 exemplo quadruplex contradictio est; nihil ignoveris; 
 ncmiiihil ignoveris : nihil gratise causa feceris ; non- 
 nihil gratitc causa feceris, Sec. Martial. 1. 1. 
 
 " Bella es; novimus: etpuella; verum est: 
 Et dives ; quis enim potest negare ? 
 Sed dum te nimium, Fabulla, laudas. 
 Nee dives, neque bella, nee puella es." 
 
 Cicero in Tusc. cogit hoc argumento Atticum Epi- 
 cureum fateii mortuos niiseros non esse, si omnino non 
 sint, ut Epicurei credebant. " Quem esse ncgas; 
 eundem esse dicis: cum enim miserum esse dicis, turn 
 eum qui non sit, esse dicis." Sic Terentianus Phsedria 
 Dori eunuchi dictum elevat, quod affirmasset prius, 
 quoe post inficiaretur : modo ait, modo negat. 
 
 Sunt qui contradictionem nullam esse statuunt, nisi 
 axiomaticam ; de qua lib. 2. Veriim si affirmatio et 
 negatio topica datur, ut supra demonstraviraus, necesse 
 est dari quoque topicam contradictionem : qualis est 
 ilia Rom. 9, " Vocabo non populura meum, populum 
 mcum ; et non dilectam, dilectam." In distiuctionibus 
 etiam frcquentissimus est hujus contradictionis usus; 
 prcesertim ubi alterum distinctionis membrura apta voce 
 exprimi non potest : ut dialecticoe materia est ens, et 
 non ens ; lex est scripta, vel non scripta. Sic ad Cri- 
 tonem Socrates ; " videris opportune quidem non exci- 
 tasse me." In his exemplis axiomatica contradictio 
 nulla est; uti neque in illo quod supra in hoc capite 
 ex Martiale allatum est: "bella es ; novimus: et 
 puella," &c. Non enim verbum est sive copulatio 
 negatur, sed partes. Fabulla est bella, et puella, et 
 dives; Fabulla est et non bella, et non puella, ct 
 non dives. Axiomatica enim contradictio hujusmodi 
 fuisset : Fabulla non est et bella et puella et dives : 
 quod lib. 2 clarius intcUigetur. 
 
 CAP. XVII. 
 
 De Privantibus. 
 
 " Privantia sunt contraria negantia, quorum alterum 
 negat in eo tantum subjecto, in quo affirmatum suapte 
 natura inest." Atque hie affirmatum dicitur habitus, 
 quo quis quid habet, negatum autcm privatio, qua quis 
 ea re privatur aut caret: ut visus et caecitas, motus et 
 quies in iis rebus qiiaR niotu conservanlur. Sunt con- 
 traria, quod unum uni opponitur, habitus privatioui; 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 877 
 
 qua ex parte neg-antia quoque dicuntur : nam et hie rei 
 alicujus affirmationi ejusdem negatio, i. e. enti non ens 
 opponitiir : privatio enim, ut inquit Aiistot. Phys. 2, 
 8, "per se est non ens;" et Pint, de prinio frig'ido; 
 privatio est esseiitiae rieg-atio;" habituique opponitur, 
 non lit natiira qiiaedam atit essentia perse existens, sed 
 lit ejus corruptio et ademtio. Quorum alterum negat 
 ill eo tantum subjecto, in quo, &c. His verbis forma 
 ))iivantium qua disting-uuntur a contradicentibus, ex- 
 ]»riinitiir. In contradicentibus enim negatio infinita 
 < st, affirmatum suum ubique, i. e. qualibet in re ne- 
 g-ans; ut quicquid non est justum, est non justum, in 
 privantibus vero finita est neg'atio, atque in eo tan- 
 tum subjecto affirmatum sive babitum negans, in quo 
 affirmatum suapte natura inest: aut inesse potest; ut 
 etiam Aristot. in Categor. Sic coecitas est negatio visus, 
 non ubique et in re qualibet, sed in qua solum visus 
 inesse natura debuit: nam privari aliquid tum dcmum 
 dicitur, cum eo caret quod natum est habere : non erjjo 
 quicquid non videt, proprie c«ecum dicitur. Deinde 
 in contradicentibus neg-atura contradicendo neg'at, et 
 est pura negatio; ut videns, non videns; in privan- 
 tibus negat privando; nee solum negatio est, sed pri- 
 vans neg^atio et extinctio habitus alicujus qui inesse 
 natura subjecto debuit aut potuit ; ut videns, c^cus. 
 Hinc illsE privationis proprietates ex Plut. de primo 
 frigido, non inutiles: "privatio iners et ag'cndi impos 
 est: non suscipit magis aut minus ;" neque enim quis 
 dixerit hnnc illo cipciorem ; aut tacentem, magis minus- 
 ve tacere ; aut defunctum, magis minusve esse mor- 
 tuum : habitus enim gradus esse possunt, non entis non 
 item : ilia autem Aristot. " aprivatione ad habitum non 
 datur regressus," incertior est: cum enim habitus quo 
 quis habere quid dicitur duo modi sint, potentia et ac* 
 tus, a privatione potentite vcl facultatis, idque natura 
 duntaxat, regressus negatur. Contradiccntia denique 
 medio carent non soli»m participationis, verum etiam 
 negationis : privantia vero carent quidem medio par- 
 ticipationis, nulla enim est habitus cum privatione per- 
 mixtio; non carent autem medio negationis; multa 
 enim sunt, quas neque vident, neque caeca sunt; ut 
 lapis, arbor, &c., nisi ciim ei subjecto attribuuntur, cui 
 natura inesse debiierunt : tum enim nejjationis etiam 
 medio carent; quippe omnis homo aut videns est aut 
 caecus, gnarus aut ignarus. Exempla porro privautium 
 sunt dives et pauper : Martial. 1. 5. 
 
 " Semper eris^ pauper, si pauper es, ^miliane . 
 Dantur opes nullis nunc, nisi divitibus." 
 
 Vita et mors, ut in Miloniana: " h uj us mortis sedetis 
 ultores, cujus vitam, si putetis per vos restitui posse, 
 nolitis." Item loqui et tacere : 1 Catil. " quid expectas 
 auctoritatem loquentium, quorum voluntatem tacitorum 
 perspicis." Caetera exempla qufe Ramus attulit, minus 
 quadrant: ut ebrius et sobrius, mortalis et immortalis, 
 qujB potius adversa sunt. Neque enim " in" praepositio 
 in coinpositis privationem semper, sed adversum habi- 
 tum soepe significat ; unde nee peccatum privationem 
 esse dixerim ; siqui<lcm hoc vel illud peccatum sive 
 vitiura, privatio non est. Atque hae quidem species 
 contrariorum sunt. Sed quseri hie solet, qusenam 
 
 earum sint maxime inter se contrarioe. Aristoteles 
 maximam contrarietatem nunc adversis tribuit, nunc 
 contradicentibus. Sed videtur maximam esse dissen- 
 sionem inter privantia : deinde inter adversa ; minorem 
 adbuc inter contradiccntia ; minimam inter relata : 
 nam relata propter illam mutuani affectionem, partim 
 consentanea sunt : contradiccntia pure quidem contra- 
 ria negantia sunt, sed tanien propter infinitam illam 
 negationem, pro mediis et disparatis crebro accipiuntur, 
 ut non calidum non tarn opponitur calido quam frigi- 
 dum ; quoniam non calidum potest tcpidum esse ; sic 
 non bonum, medium quiddam esse potest et adiapho- 
 rum : non album de rubro dici aut intelligi potest: 
 adversa h regione quidem adversantur; non ita tamen, 
 quin commisceri queant: privantia vero mixtionem non 
 admittunt ; et privatio fere est habitus extinctio atque 
 ereptio aut saltem deficientia; habitusque est ens, pri- 
 vatio non ens; enti autem nihil, sequ^ au non ens, con- 
 trarium est. 
 
 " Sed dissentaneorum categoria sic est, unde quidvis 
 ab altero differre quolibet modo possit." 
 
 Quanquam enim causa omnis essentialis diflferentiae, 
 formce primitus est reliquarum, argumenta reliqua con- 
 sentanea, ut quot modis consentire totidem dissentire 
 res dicantur, causa nempe vel effecto, subjecto vel ad- 
 juncto, modi tamen omnes, quib. res inter se differunt 
 vel ratione scilicet vel re, non tractantur nisi in dissen- 
 taneis, vel si coniparantur, in comparatis. Unde illud 
 genere vel specie differre, nihil aliud est quam communi 
 Vel propria forma, quarum ilia symbola sunt, ut infra 
 dicetur. 
 
 CAP. XVtll. 
 
 De Paribus. 
 
 "Akgumenta simplicia ita fuerunt in consentaneis 
 et dissentaneis. 
 
 " Comparata sunt argumenta prima, quae inter se 
 comparantur." 
 
 Simplex rerum affectio comparatione prius tractanda 
 fuit ; banc enim si removes, comparata omnia aut consen- 
 tanea erunt aut dissentanea. Platonis doctrina et 
 Xenophontis ante adjuncta utrique erat, qukm compa- 
 rata. Sunt argumenta prima non orta, eo quod orta, 
 ut patebit infra, eandem habent affectionem cum primis 
 unde orta sunt; comparata etsi simplicia prius fuere, 
 simplicium tamen affectionem non habent. Inter se 
 comparantur; nimirum quae sunt ejusdem generis: 
 genera autem distributio mox docebit. Nunc proprie- 
 tates comparatorum sunt dicendae. 
 
 " Comparata etsi ipsa comparationis natura oeque 
 nota sunt ; attamen alterum altero alicui notius et 
 illustrius esse debet." 
 
 Ubi hoc advertendum, non sua sed comparationis na- 
 tura dici aeque nota esse comparata. Ita sunt, inquis, 
 et relata vi relationis; immo argumenta omnia qu;e 
 
878 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 etiam relata sunt. At, inquam, relatio et comparatio 
 non sunt idem; et reliqua argumenta, et si quatenus 
 relata sunt notione log'ica, (equc nota sunt, sua tamen 
 natura, prout quaeque est, vel eequ^ vel non aequ^ sunt 
 manifesta ; dissentanea quidem aeque, consentanea nnn 
 wqud, ut jam supra est dictum. Debet autcm ei qui- 
 cum disputamus comparatorum id quod arguit sua na- 
 tura et priusquam comparatio instituitur, notius esse 
 atque illustrius eo quod arguitur; aequd enim obscu- 
 rum nihil argueret. Unde in signis comparatorum 
 usus elucet; quo fit ut inaequalis rerum notitia compa- 
 rationis vi eequalis reddatur. Sic consentanea ad pro- 
 bandum, dissentanea ad refellendum, comparata ad il- 
 lustrandum aptissima sunt. 
 
 " Comparata autem sappe notis brevius indicantur ; 
 aliquando partibus distinguuntur, quee propositio red- 
 ditioque nominantur." 
 
 Duplex ergo est comparattonis forma: altera con- 
 tracta, altera explicata. Contracta est qute uno verbo 
 concluditur, ut infra cap. 21. Explicata, quae partibus 
 distinguitur ; partesque istae propositio et redditio no- 
 minantur. Propositio prtecedit saspe, et arguroentum 
 est: redditio ssepe sequitnr, estque id quod arguitur : 
 si secus occurrit, inversio est. Omnis autem forma 
 comparationis contracta, suis partibus explicari potest. 
 
 "Atque omnino comparata etiam ticta arguunt 
 fidemque faciunt." 
 
 Arguunt scilicet rem veram ; in quo caeteris argu- 
 mentis prsecellunt; quae ficta si sunt, rem fictam dun- 
 taxat arguunt; ut materia ficta, fictam solis domum. 
 At comparata etiam ficta, non sua quidem natura, sed 
 comparationis vi, res Teras arguunt fidemque faciunt. 
 
 " Comparatio est in quantitate vel qualitate. 
 
 " Quantitas est qua res comparatoe quantte dicuntur. 
 
 " Estque parium vel imparium." Non hie loquimur 
 de quantitate solum matbematica, quae magnitudinis 
 est aut numeri, sed de quantitate logica, quae ratio 
 quselibet sive affectio est, qua res queecunque inter se 
 comparatee quantee, i. e. aequales vel inaequales, pares 
 ▼el impares dici possint. 
 
 " Paria sunt, quorum est una quantitas." 
 
 Sic enim definit Aristoteles, Phil. 8, 15. Quod idem 
 valet acsi diceretur, quorum par ratio est. " Una," i. e. 
 eadem, tequalis : unde in plurali numero eodem nomine 
 ac definitione explicantur. 
 
 " Argumentum igitur parisest, cum par illustratur k 
 pari." 
 
 Ad exempla veniamus ; atque ad ea primum quee in 
 forma, ut diximus, contracta notis brevius indicantur. 
 Hae autem notee pnecipuae sunt " par, aequale, aequare ;" 
 ut in his : 
 
 -Par levibus venUs.' 
 
 JEnad. 2. 
 
 Ubi levitas Creusae umbree comparatur levitati ven- 
 torum. 
 
 " Et nunc sequali tecum pubescerel aevo." ^neid. 3. 
 
 " En hujus nate auspiciis, ilia inclyta Roma 
 Imperium terns, animos aequabit Olympo." iEneid. 6. 
 
 His notis alite sunt affines, "pariter, aequd, asqua- 
 lius, aequaliler, perindc, acsi," et id genus alia. 
 
 Sequitur forma explicata: in qua propositio et red- 
 ditio distinguuntur, qutc in contracta forma craiit impli- 
 citsc. In hac autem forma explicata par quantitas vel 
 notis aperte indicatur, vel sine notis mcnte et ratione 
 concipitur: notx istae sunt vel propritc parium: vel 
 negaliones imparium: parium propriae, " idem quod ; 
 tam, quam; tanto, quanto ; tot, quot." In quibus sin- 
 gulis notarum paribus prior quaeque redditioni inscrvit, 
 posterior vero proposition^ Catil. 4, " Cujus res gestae 
 atque virtutes iisdem, quibus solis cursus, regionibus 
 ac terminis coninentur." 
 
 " Tam ficti pravique tenax quam nuntia veri." iEneid 4. 
 
 " Tantu pessimus omnium poeta, 
 Quantu tu optimus omnium patronus." 
 
 Catullus 4. 
 
 " Littora quot conchas, quot amoena rosarea flores, 
 Quotque soporiferum grana papaver habet, &c. 
 Tot premor adversis " Ovid. 4. Trist. 
 
 Negationes imparium sunt; vel majoris et minoris 
 seorsim vel utriusque simul " non magis, non minus." 
 Philippic. 9, " Neque enim ille magis jurisconsultus 
 quim justitiffi fuit," &c. " Neque constituere litium 
 actiones malebat, quam controversias tollere." Ovid. 
 2, de Arte. 
 
 " Non minor est virtus, quam quaerere, parta tueri." 
 
 " Utriusque simul" pro Muraena: " paria co;;nosco 
 esse ista in L. Muraena, atque ita paria, ut neque ipse 
 dignitate vinci potuerit, neque te diguitatc superarit." 
 Observandum est autem negationeni majoris vel n)i- 
 noris seorsim non semper esse notam parium : neque 
 enim si " servus non est major domino, ergo est acqua- 
 lis ;" nee si " dominus non est minor servo, ergo par." 
 
 Hactenus cum notis; nunc sine notis haec quae se- 
 quuntur. Atque in hoc potissimum genere e.xemplo- 
 rum sine notis, apparet vis eadem arguendi in utrani- 
 que partem ; adeo ut si unum, alterum quoque sit; si 
 non sit unum, neque alterum. Itaque ex uno eortim 
 affirmato, alterum aflirmatur ; ex negato, negatur : 2 
 Philip. " Quorum facinus commune, cur non eorura 
 praeda communis?" Ter. in Adel. 
 
 " Quando ego non euro tuum, ne cura meum." 
 
 " Hujus loci," parium nempe sine notis, " sunt con- 
 sectaria ilia e contrariis quidem orta, sed parium col- 
 latione tractata." Ut ex adversis ista ; Cicero pro 
 Sylla " neque vero quid raihi irascare intelligere pos- 
 sum ; si, quud euni defendo quern tu accusas, cur tibi 
 quoque ipse non succenseo, qui accuses cum quern ego 
 defendo.'* Inimicum,iuquis, accuso meum: etamicum, 
 inquam, ego defendo meum." Sic 5 Tusc. " quod ciini 
 fateantur, satis magnam vim esse in vitiis ad miseram 
 vitam ; nonne fatendum est eandem vim in virtute esse 
 ad beatam vitam ? Contraria enim contrariorum sunt 
 consequentia." 
 
 Quae tamen regula non est perpetuo vera: primo 
 nisi collatio sit vere parium: non ergo sequitur, " mala 
 opera damnant ; ergo bona juslificant." Mala n. 
 opera omnino mala, bona iniperfectc bona sunt ; ilia 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 879 
 
 nostra, haec non plane nostra. Secundo, sed in iis 
 duntaxat paribus, conlrariorum ex loco petitis, quorum 
 parium propositio reciprocatur. Quod in relatis qui- 
 dem fit frequentissime: ut apud Martialem. 
 
 " Turn servum scis de genituni, blandeque fateris. 
 Cum dicis dominum, Sosibiane, patrem." 
 
 Pater est filii dominus, et filii dominus est pater: 
 pariter erg'o filius est patris servus. Sic ex adversis : 
 " bonum est appetendum ; pariter ergo malum est fu- 
 giendum." Nempe quia proprie adeoque reciproce, 
 omne appetendum est bonum. Et ex privantibus: 
 Ovid. 1 Fast. 
 
 " In pretio pretium nunc est, dat census honores. 
 Census amicitias : pauper ubique jacet." 
 
 Dives est in pretio, et quisquis est in pretio, est 
 dives ; ergo omnis pauper jacet. 
 
 " Quotiesautem collationis propositio non reciproca- 
 tur, vel quotics uni parium id quasi proprium tribuitur 
 quod utrisque commune est, eorum consequcntia con- 
 traria non sunt, sed saepe cadem." Fallit ergo hoc ex 
 relatis : " pater est dives ; ergo filius est pauper :" quia 
 propositio non est reciproca; omnis enim dives non 
 est pater. Et hoc ctiara ex adversis : " homo est sensu 
 procditus; bestia igitur sensu caret. Homo mortalis; 
 bestia igitur ininiortalis : " quippe nee sensu proeditum, 
 nee niortale est honiini proprium; sed utriqiie contra- 
 rio commune, et honiini et besliae. Hoc etiam ex con- 
 tradicentibus : " homo est animal ; ergo non homo est 
 non animal." Hoc denique ex privantibus: " videns 
 vivit; ergo caecus est mortuus:" vivere enim et videnti 
 et cacco commune est. " Non enim idem non dici de 
 contrariis, sed contraria de eodem dici non possunt ; 
 inimo quod suscipit ununi contrariorum, suscipit alte- 
 runi; et quod ununi non suscipit, neque alterum;" ut, 
 " in quo est amor, in eo potest esse odium. Quibus 
 nullum est jus, iis nulla fit injuria." 
 
 Est et alius parium sine notis modus, " quo interdum 
 lacessiti, par pari reponimus." Qualis est Virgil. Eel. 3, 
 in ilia pastorum alterna contentione repetitum iilud ; 
 " Die quib. in terris," Sec. Cujusmodi est et illud Mat. 
 21, 23, Sec. " Qua authoritate facis ista? &c. Intcr- 
 rogabo vos ego etiam quiddara : Baptisma Joannis 
 unde erat?" Affine est illud Cic. Off. 2, " Cato, cum 
 ab eo queereretur, quid esset foenerari? respondit, quid 
 hominem occidere." 
 
 Paria vero ficta quorum esse proprium supra dixi- 
 mus rem veram arguere, sunt ilia apud Ciceronem, 
 Invent. 1, ex jEschine Socratico ; ubi Aspasia cum 
 Xenophontis uxore et Xenophonte ipso sic inducitur 
 locuta : " die mihi, quseso, Xenophontis uxor, si viciua 
 tua melius habeat aurum quam tu babes, utrura illius an 
 tuummalis? Illius, inquit. Et si vestem .-' Illius vero 
 respondit. Age vero, si virum ilia meliorem, an illius 
 malis." Hie mulier erubuit. Comparatio sic se habet : 
 si aurum, si vestem vicinse meliorem habere malles 
 quam tuam, malle etiam meliorem vicinse virum argue- 
 ris. Non dicit vicinara habere aurum aut vestem me- 
 liorem, sed fingit aut ponit, eanique si mallet Xeno- 
 phontis uxor, arguitur nialle virum quoquc vicinae si 
 nielior sit. 
 
 CAR XIX. 
 
 De Majoribus. 
 
 " Imparia sunt, quorum quantitas non est una." 
 " Non una," i. e. non eadem ; quorum par ratio noa 
 est: contrariorum enim contraria ratio est. 
 
 " Impar est majus vel minus. 
 
 " Majus est cujns quantitas excedit." 
 
 Major autem vel minor quantitas sestimanda est ex 
 rerum quoe coniparantur, elatione vel summissionc, ut 
 inquit Cic. in Top. i. e. excessu vel defectu ; quae vel 
 notis indicantur, vel, si desunt notee, aliis vocibus, quas 
 excessum vel defectum significant, intelliguntur. Ex 
 eo autem quod suprk de logica quantitate diximus, in- 
 telligendum est id logic6 majus quoque esse, cujus non 
 solum magnitude, mensura, aut numerus, sed etiam 
 auctoritas, potentia, prtestantia, probabilitas, difficultas, 
 aut quid hujusmodi majus est; vel brevius, quod qua- 
 vis ratione excessum habet, id majus est; idque non 
 solum rei ipsius natura, sed vel opinionc disserentis. 
 Majus igitur est cujus quantitas excedit id quod minus 
 est: majus enim hie adhibetur ad arguendum minus. 
 
 Quemadmodum autem parium, ita argumenti a ma- 
 jore, forma alia contracta est, quae notis brevius indi- 
 catur; alia explicata, quee partibus plenius distingui- 
 tur. 
 
 Contractioris formae notae sunt vel nomina compara- 
 tiva et superlativa suos casus regentia, vel verba quae- 
 dam; et ea quidem utraque non solum qure excessum 
 significant, ut " major, melior, pejor; prsestare, supe- 
 rare, vincere, excedere, prueferri," cum referuntur ad 
 id quod arguit, veriim etiam ea cum nomina tum verba 
 quae defectum significant, ut " minor, inferior, postha- 
 beo, cedo, vincor, superor," si referuntur ad id quod 
 arguitur. 
 
 Explicata autem forma nunc est cum notis, nunc sine 
 notis. Notte sunt " non solum, sed etiam ;" non, tani, 
 quam, et comparationes, verbaque, ut supra, non modo 
 elatiouem significantia cum particula " quam," si ea 
 particula tribuatur ei semper quod arguitur, sed etiam 
 ea quae summissionem significant, si modo particula 
 " quam" referatur ad id quod arguit : ut, " minus est 
 araicum pulsare, quam patrem." Sed hoc exemplum 
 arguit potius a minori quam grave scelus sit pulsare 
 patrem, quam a majori non admodum grave esse 
 pulsare amicum. Idem de caeteris hujusmodi est di- 
 cendum. 
 
 Exemplum primse notae : Cic. pro Mursena : " Tol- 
 litur e medio non solum ista verbosa simulatio pruden- 
 tiae, sed etiam ilia doraina rerum sapientia. Spernitur 
 orator non solum odiosus in dicendo aut loquax, ve- 
 rura etiam bonus." In hujusmodi exemplis " sed 
 etiam" est propositio, et, ut majus, arguit redditionem 
 " non solum," ut minus. 
 
 Huic nota affinis est " immo," vel " immo vero." 
 Cujusmodi est illud apud Terent. " Thr. Magnas 
 vero agere gratias Thais mihi? Gn. Ingentes. Thr. 
 Ain tu? laela est. Gn. Non tam ipso quidem dono, 
 
880 
 
 ARTIS LOGIC-« PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 qudin abs te datum esse : id vero send triumphat." 
 Hie facile iiitolligilur " immo ingentes" et " immo id 
 serio triumpliat." Ins^cntes gratiae arguunt magiias; 
 et triumpliare, lictara esse. Sic Catil. 1 : " Hie tamcn 
 vivit, vivit? iramo vero in senatum veiiit." Et illud 
 Ver. 3: " Non furem, sed raptorem ; iion adulterum, 
 sed expug-iiatorem pudicitiae," &c. 
 
 Exemplum secundte itotae, comparativorum scilicet 
 et verborum cum particula " quam," est ex Cic. pro 
 Marcello : " Plus admirationis habitura, quam glorioe." 
 Sed ambiguum : aut enim plus adinirationis arguit 
 minus gloriae, et sic argumentum est a majori, aut 
 minor gloria si magna sit, arguit maxiniam adniira- 
 tionem. 
 
 Verborum elationem significantium cum particula 
 **quam" exemplum hoc erit ; " mendicare prcestat, 
 quam furari." Hie mendicare, quanquam inhoncsturn, 
 ut magis tamen et potius faciendum, arguit multo 
 minus esse furandum. 
 
 " Sic malo illud," scilicet quod arguit, " quam hoc," 
 scilicet quod arguitur : ut Juvenal Satyra 8, adversus 
 gloriosum nobilem : 
 
 " Malo pater tibi sit Thersites, dummodo tu sis 
 ^acidae similis, Vulcaniaque arma capessas, 
 Quam te Thersitse similem producat Achilles." 
 
 Quod malit ignobilem fortem, quod tamen non est 
 ita optandum, ex eo arguit atque ostendit a majori sive 
 apotioriquam minimevelit nobilem ignavum. Csesar : 
 " Malo modestiam in milite, quam virtutem." Mo- 
 destia, judicio Caesaris, pracstantior et major, arguit 
 virtutem sive fortitudinem in milite minus esse quam 
 modestia requirendam: vel potius a minori exaggerat 
 modcstiae laudcni in milite prae virtutis laude. 
 
 " Sequitur majorum tractatio sine notis." 
 
 Atque in hoc solum genere id majus est cujus pro- 
 babiiitas aut difficultas est major. Hie etiam logici 
 regnlas consequentioe tradere solent non solum ne- 
 gando, ut vult Aristot. Rhet. 2, 23, verum etiam" affir- 
 mando, pro quantitatis diversa vi et consideratione, in 
 exemplis diversis: ejusdem enim exempli una tantum 
 ratio est. Si majus est probabilius, duntaxat negando, 
 in hunc modum : " quod non valet in majore, non 
 valebit in niinore." Si majus est difficilius aut incre- 
 dibilius, duntaxat affirmando : " quod in re majore 
 valet, valet in minore," ut inquit Cic. in Top. Hujus 
 exemplum est JEneid. 1 : 
 
 " socii (neque enim ignari sumus ante malorum) 
 O passi graviora! dabitdeushis qiioque finem." 
 
 Si gravioribus malis dedit deus finem, dabit bis 
 cert^. Sic Cic. pro Murcena : " Noli tarn esse injus- 
 tu8, ut cum tui fontes vel inimicis tuis pateant, nostros 
 rivulos cliam amicis putes clausos esse oportere." 
 
 " P'icta etiam majora idem valent in suis consequcn- 
 tiis vel refutandis vel probandis." 
 
 Refutandi exemplum est Terent. Heaut. 
 
 Satrapas si iict 
 
 Amator, nunquam suflFcrre ejus sumtus queat : 
 Ncdum tu possis:"— quasi dicerct,fingesatrapam esse. 
 
 Et iEneid. 5 : 
 
 " Magnanime ^nea, non si mihi Jupiter auctor 
 Spondcdt, iioc s|)erein Italiam contingere coelo : 
 Mutati transversa fremunt, &c. 
 Nee nos obniti contrii, nee tendere tantum 
 Sufficimus :" — i. e. multo nunc minus Jove nonspondente. 
 
 CAP. XX. 
 
 De Minon'bus. 
 
 Majus et minus inter se affecta etrelata sunt : adeo- 
 que unius definitionem qui norit, norit alterius. 
 
 Ut igitur majus est cujus quantitas excedit, "ita 
 minus est cujus quantitas exceditur." Quantitas au- 
 tem ut majoris erat in qualibet rerum clatione sive ex- 
 cessu, ita nunc minoris est in qualibet rerum summis- 
 sione sivedefectu. Sententiarum enim minor probabi- 
 litas aut difficultas locum non habet, nisi in minorum 
 forma explicata ; quod ex majorum quoque explicata 
 forma intelligi potest. Minus igitur est cujus quan- 
 titas exceditur a majore : argumentum itaque a minore 
 est, cum id quod minus est, adhibetur ad arguendum 
 id quod est majus. 
 
 Minora etiam vel brevius indicantur notis, vel ple- 
 nius distinguuntur partibus. Hujus utriusque formse 
 vel propriae sunt minorum notae, vel negationcs parium. 
 
 Propric-e notse contractions formae sunt prinium, vo- 
 ces comparativas grammaticce, cum uomina turn verba, 
 elationem utraque significantia, si modo attribuantur 
 ei quod arguitur. Ovid. 2 de Trist. " Saevior es tristi 
 Busiride." Hie minor saevitia Busiridis arguit majo- 
 rem illius in quem poeta invehitur. " Praestat sapientia 
 divitiis." "Saevior" et "praestat" elationem signifi- 
 cant, et notae sunt majoris; sed quia tribuuntur ei quod 
 arguitur, argumentum utrobique est a minori. Atque 
 hoc sedulo advertendum est, ut argumentum majoris a 
 minori dijudicare possis : majora enim et minora, con- 
 tractae praesertim formae, easdem plerumque notas prse 
 se ferunt; idemque exemplum utramvis in partem vel 
 a majori vel a minori arguere potest : ut, " saevior es 
 tristi Busiride." Hoc si ad soevitiam cujusvisexaggc- 
 randam dicatur, ut hoc loco, a minori est: si ad Busi- 
 ridis extenuandam, a majori. Si igitur ilia quae elati- 
 onem significant, referantur ad id quod arguitur, sunt 
 ilia quidem notae majoris, argumentum autem est a mi- 
 nori ; quoniam majus, cujus ilia notee sunt, est id quod 
 arguitur: sin ilia quae summissionem significant, re- 
 fcruntur ad id quod arguitur, sunt ilia quidem notae 
 minoris, sed argumentum est a majori ; quoniam id 
 quod arguitur, minus est. 
 
 Secundo, comparationes grammaticae verhaque sum- 
 missionem significantia, ut minor, inferior, &c. Post- 
 habco, postpono, cedo, vincor, superor, kc. Si modo 
 ad id quod arguit, referatur : ut " cedant arma togae." 
 Hie togae dignitas arguitur a minori armorum digni- 
 tatc, qua? cedit. 
 
 Atque hac sunt notee affirmantes contractae formte: 
 
AD PETRI RAMI xMETHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 881 
 
 quibus anmimerandte sunt etiam istoe formulae, quae 
 i fiuiit neg-atione pariuni. Philip. 9, "Omnesexomni 
 j oetate, qui in hac civitate intellig'eiitiam juris habue- 
 I runt, si unum in locum conferantur, cum S. Sulpitio 
 1 non sunt conferendi," i. e. non sequandi, quae nota pa- 
 i rium fuit. Hactenus contracta forma. 
 
 Explicata forma vel cum notis est, vel sine notis. 
 Propriae notae sunt primo, " non modo non, sed no." 
 Cic. 2, Catil. "Nemo non modo Romte, sed ne ullo 
 in angulo totius Italiae oppressus sere alieno fuit, quem 
 non ad hoc incredibile sceleris foedus asciverit." Hie 
 posterior nota " sed ne," est propositionis, et nota mi- 
 noris ; arg'uitque " non modo non," quic redditionis est, 
 et nota niajoris, quod argruitur. Ne ullo in anji^ulo Ita- 
 lifiB non fecit, quod minus utile sibi erat, non modo non 
 ig'itur vel multo mag^is Romce fecit, quod majus erat, 
 vel sibi magis utile. Pro Fonteio: "Non modo nul- 
 lum facinus hnjus protulerunt, sed ne dictum quidem 
 aliquod reprebenderent." Ne minus quidem fece- 
 runt ut dictum aliquod reprehenderunt, quae propo- 
 sitio est et arg'uit non modo non majus, i. e. erjjo 
 non majus, ut facinus aliquod proferrent, qute redditio 
 est, et arguitur. 
 
 Verum in hujus notae exemplis propositionis nota 
 " sed ne," aliquando omittitur. Ad Lent. " Nullum 
 meum minimum dictum, non modo factum pro Cccsare 
 intercessit," i. e. nullum non mod6 factum, sed ne dic- 
 tum quidem. Huic notte affinis est ilia formula, "tan- 
 tura abest ab hoc, ut ne illud quidem." Pro Marcello : 
 " Tantum abes a perfectione maximorum operum, ut 
 fundamenta, quoe cogitas, nondnm jeceris." Ne hoc 
 quidem fecisti quod minus est, abes ergo longe ab illo 
 quod est majus. 
 
 Secundte notae sunt comparationes grammaticoe et 
 verba quoedam cum particula "quam,"qua? vel elatio- 
 nem significant, ut " potius hoc quam illud, malo hoc 
 quam illud," vel summissionem, ut " minor, inferior," 
 itaut " quam" utrobique referatur ad id quod arguitur. 
 Catil. 1, " Ut exul potius tentare, quam consul vexare 
 remp. possis." Quod potius erat Ciceroni ut exul ten- 
 taret remp. qu^m consul vexaret, illud ut minus malum 
 arguit hoc esse majus. Hie comparatio grammatica 
 "potius," ad id quod arguit, refertur, nempe ad minus 
 malum ; particula " quam" ad id refertur quod arguitur, 
 nempe ad majus malum ; " Sic maluit Metellus de re- 
 pub, quam de sententia sua dimoveri." Hie " maluit," 
 verbum elationis, refertur ad id quod arguit, nempe ad 
 minus malum, judicio Metelli, de rep. dimoveri; par- 
 ticula "quam" ad id refertur quod majus malum argu- 
 itur, dimoveri de sententia. Sic in iis notis quae sum- 
 missionem significant, particula " quam " refertur 
 semper ad majus quod arguitur, non secus atque in iis 
 qu;e significant elatiouem : ut, " minus est accipere, 
 quam dare; inferior est Caesar quam Scipio." 
 
 His notis affinis est, " antequam," i. e. potius quam. 
 Pl"o Milone : " Utinam Clodius dictator esset, ante- 
 quam hoc spectaculum viderem." 
 
 Tertia nota est " cum turn :" 1 Agr. " quae cum om- 
 nib. est difficilis et magna ratio, turn vero mihi praeter 
 caeteros." 
 
 Sequuntur negationes parium in hac forma explicata. 
 
 " Non tam, quam." Catil. 2, " Quanquam illi qui 
 Catilinam Massiliam ire dictitant, non tam haec que- 
 runtur, quam verentur." Sic "non tot, quot:" pro 
 Muraena ; " Quod enim fretum, quem Euripum tot 
 motus, tantas, tam varias habere putatis agitationes 
 fluctuum ; quantas perturbationes et quantos aestus 
 habet ratio comiliorum?" In hoc exemplo interrogatio 
 fortius negat paria. 
 
 Nunc ad exempla formae sine notis explicatas venia- 
 mus. Cic. OflT. 1, "Ergo histrio hoc videbit in scena, 
 non videbit sapiens in vita." Atque bine etiam conse- 
 quentiae ducuntur non solum affirmando et probando, ut 
 vult Arist. Rhet. 2, 23, et Cic. in Top. sed etiam negan- 
 do ct refutando: si quidem hoc de exemplo non eodem 
 intelligitur : sin de eodem, tum quidem vel solum affir- 
 mando, vel solum negando recte proceditur. Affirmandi 
 exemplum est Ovid. 1 de Remed. 
 
 "Ut corpus redimas ferrum patieris et ignes, &c. 
 Ut valeas animo quicquam tolerare negabis?" 
 
 Si corporis causa, multo magis animi quidvis tolera- 
 bis; animus enim dignior. Item pro Archia: " Bestiae 
 sippe immanes cantu flectuntur : nos non poetarum 
 voce moveamuri*" Sic illud Mat. 6,26, " Passeres curat 
 Deus ; multo magis ergo homines." At negando, nulla 
 ex his consequentia deducitur: non ergo sequitur, " si 
 corporis causa quicquam non tolorabis, ergo nunc 
 animi ;" et sic de caeteris. Recte igitur, si hoc modo 
 intelligitur Aristoteles, a minore ad majus affirmando 
 solum proceditur. Veriim exempla non desunt, in 
 quib. a minore arguitur etiam solum negando: cujus- 
 modi est illud supra citatum, pro Marcello; "funda- 
 menta nondum jccisti, certe ergo non perfecisti." Nee 
 tamen idem affirmando ; " fundamenta jecisti, ergo 
 perfecisti." Hie modo cavendum est, ne ponatur nega- 
 tio qute affirmationi a^quipolleat : ut, " Deus non neg- 
 ligit passeres," idem est quod "curat." Sic enim 
 utriusque consequentiae idem exemplum prout sententia 
 eadem vel affirmando vel negando variatur, dari posset : 
 ut, " si fures plectendi, multo magis sacrilegi. Si 
 furib. non parcendum, multo minus sacrilegis." Hie 
 " plectere" et " non parcere" idem est ; et minus sit nota 
 majoris : non igitur notae, sed rerum elatio vel summis- 
 sio majus vel minus efficit. Atque haec de consequen- 
 tiis niinorum sine notis. 
 
 Verum eaedem consequentiae ducuntur ab explicata 
 forma, quae etiam cum notis est, ut ex iis exemplis quai 
 supra ponuntur, intelligas licet. In hac forma expli- 
 cata sine notis est ubi occurrit minorura quaedam gra- 
 datio : ut Ver. 7, " Facinus est vincere civem Roma- 
 num ; scelus verberare ; prop6 parricidium uecare : 
 quid dicam in crucem tollere?" 
 
 Finguntur etiam minora: Virgil. Eel. 1. 
 
 " Ante leves ergo pascentur in aethere cervi, &c. 
 Quam nostro illius labatur pectore vultas." 
 
 Philip. 2, " Si inter ccenam in tuis immanibus illis 
 poculis hoc tibi accidisset, quis non turpe duceret.'' In 
 c(Ktu vero populi R. negotium publicum gerens, ma- 
 gister equitum," &c. 
 
883 
 
 ARTIS LOGICiE PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 CAP. XXI. 
 
 De Similibus. 
 
 Hactenus comparatio in quantitate fuit. Sequitur 
 " comparatio in qualitate, qua res comparatee quales 
 dicuntur." 
 
 Qualilas enim log-ica non solum est habitus, aut dis- 
 positio, aut potcntia, vel imputentia naturalis, aut de- 
 iiique fig'ura aut forma exterior, qute Aristot. species 
 qualitatis sunt, et in aliis artibus tractandoe, sed est 
 affectio quslibet sive ratio, qua res inter se com pa rat re 
 quales, nempe similes aut dissimiles dicuntur. Nulla 
 autem res est, quae si alteri qualitate conferatur, non 
 sit ei sirailis vel dissimilis. 
 
 " Sirailia sunt quorum eadem est qualitas." 
 
 Sic enim definit Aristoteles, Phil. 8, 15, et Boethius, 
 1. 2, in Cic. Top. " similitudo," inquit, " est unitas qua- 
 litatis." Argumentuni igitur similitudinis est, quando 
 simile explicatur a simili. Magna quidem est affinitas 
 parium cum similibus ; verum ut ex definitionlbus 
 eorum perspicere licet, in hoc maxime differunt, quod 
 paria non admittunt elationem aut summissionem, si- 
 milia admittunt: possunt enim etiam simillima majora 
 esse vel minora; quod paria non possunt. 
 
 Similitudo proportio dicitur, Graece fere " analogia ;" 
 et similia proportionalia, Graece " analoga." Proportio 
 autem nihil aliud est quam duarum rationura similitudo; 
 ratio autem est duorum inter se terminorum sive rerum 
 coUatio. * Monendum autem est similia sive contractae 
 formae sive explicatee urgenda non esse ultra eam qua- 
 litatem quam in utrisque eandem esse propositum assi- 
 inilanti erat ostendere : sic magistratus assimilatur cani, 
 sola nimirum fidelitate custodire : unde ilia in scholis, 
 *' nullum simile est idem, simile non currit quatuor 
 pedibus, nmne simile claudicat." 
 
 Similia nunc notis brevius indicantur, nunc partibus 
 plenius distingunntur; hoc enim comparatis omnibus 
 commune est. Notae similitudinis contractre " quae uno 
 verbo concluditur," sunt vel similium propriae vel dis- 
 similium negationes. Propriae similium sunt vel no- 
 raina, ut " similis, effigies, imago, more, ritu, instar, in 
 modum ;" vel adverbia, " tanquam, veluti, quasi, sicu- 
 ti ;" vel verba, " imitari, referre," &c. 1 ^neid. " Os 
 humerosque deo similis." Philip. 9, " Quanquam nul- 
 lum monumentum clarius Servius Sulpitius relinquere 
 potuit, quam effigiem morum suorum, virtutis, constan- 
 tiae, pietatis, iugenii, filium." 1 Trist. 
 
 " Namque ea vel nemo, vel qui mihi vulnera fecit. 
 Solus Achilleo toUere more potest." 
 
 In Pis. " Unus ille dies mihi quidem instar immor- 
 talitatis fuit, quo in patriam redii." Verr. 1, " Sed re- 
 pente e vestigio ex homine, tanquam aliquo poculo 
 Circaeo, factus est Verres." Pro lege Manil. " Itaque 
 omnes quidem nunc in his locis En. Pompeium, sicut 
 aliqucm, non ex hac urbe missura, sed de ccelo delap- 
 sum intuentur." Negationes dissimilium sunt, " baud 
 
 secus ac jussi faciunt." Terent. in Phor. '* Ego isti 
 nihilo sum alitcr, ac sui." 
 
 Ad contractam similitudinis formam pcrtinet etiam 
 metapliora: nietaphora enim, ut doccnt rhetores, est ad 
 unum verbum contracta similitudo sine notis quidem, 
 quffi tamen intclliguntur. Pro Sest. " Cujus ego pa- 
 trem deum atque parentem statuo fortunae uominisque 
 mei," i. e. " tanquam deum." 
 
 " Similitudinis partes deinceps explicantur, et qui- 
 dem disjuncte vel continue. 
 
 " Similitudo disjuncta est, quando termini" sive res 
 " quatuor reipsa distinguuntur," i. e. quando duo ter- 
 mini sive res distinctce in propositione comparantur 
 duobus terminis sive rebus distinctis in redditionc. 
 Occurrit autem hrec forma et cum notis et sine notis. 
 Notae sunt, " qualis, talis ;" ilia propositionis, brec 
 redditionis nota est. Ita " quemadmodum, ut, sicut," 
 propositionis ; quibus respondent, " sic, eodem modo, 
 similiter," redditionis. Eel. 5, 
 
 " Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine poeta. 
 Quale sopor fessis in gramine." 
 
 Carmen ad auditorera, ut sopor ad fessum, termini J 
 quatuor distincta sunt. Ad Frat. 1," Quemadmodum 
 gubernatores optimi vim tempestatis, sic sapientissimi 
 viri fortuuae impetum perssepe superare non possunt." 
 Hie quatuor sunt item termini, ut gubernator ad tem- 
 pestatem, sic sapiens ad fortunam. 1 Trist. 
 
 " Scilicet ut fulvum spectatur in ignibus aurum. 
 Tempore sicduro est inspicienda fides." 
 
 Cicero 2 Phil. " Sed nimirum ut quidam raorbo et 
 sensus stupore suavitatem cibi non sentiunt ; sic libi- 
 dinosi, avari, facinorosi, vera; laudis gustum non ha- 
 bent.'' In vita Virgil. 
 
 " Hos ergo versiculos, feci, tulit alter honores : 
 Sic vos non vobis nidificatis aves: 
 Sic vos non vobis mellificatis apes :" &c. 
 
 In hoc exemplo redditio sine nota praecedit. Par- 
 ticula autem " sic," quae nota solet esse redditionis, hie 
 propositioni attribuitur. 
 
 " Aliquando nulla prorsus est nota." Virg. Ecloga 2, 
 
 " formose puer, nimium ne crede colori. 
 
 Alba ligustra cadunt, vaccinia nigra leguntur." 
 
 " Continua similitudo est, quando est ut primus ter- 
 minus ad secundum, ita secundus ad tertium." Leg. 3. 
 " Ut magistratibus leges, ita populo prresunt magis- 
 tratus." Hie termini sunt tres; lex, magistratus, po- 
 pulus. Sed medius bis adbibetur, et in onini propor- 
 tionc continua continuatur; estque posterior terminus 
 propositionis, prior redditionis. In omni enim pro- 
 portione termini esse debent ad minimum quatuor. 
 Ordo hujus sic est : ut leges magistratibus, ita magis- 
 tratus populo pracsunt. 
 
 Quanquam autem similia magis ad illustrandum 
 quam ad probandum accommodata sunt, et Plato in 
 Phredone, " Ego," inquit, "sermones qui ex similibus 
 demonstrationes sumunt, probe novi ad ostentationem 
 
 V.--.. .■■fcuviibui. x^c^ aiiiiiica UJ9BIIII1I1UIJ1 9UI11, IJaUU UCIJIOlJatlaLIUUCS suiiJUiii, i/iuuc iiuti au u9ii;ijLai.ii^iicitA 
 
 •ecus, non alitcr, non absimilis,"&c. iEneid.3, " Hand comparatos esse; et nisi qu is caveat ab iis, facile ira- 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 883 
 
 ponunt," quod ad regulas tamen consequentiarum atti- 
 iiet, ex definitione similiurn perspicitur, similium 
 similem esse rationem ; valere igitur similia in utram- 
 qiie partem. Unde Aristot. Top. 24, " Quod in aliquo 
 simili valet, in aliis quoque similibus valebit ; et quod 
 non in aliquo, nee in caeteris." 
 
 Quoniani autein similitudo non solum est proposi- 
 tionis et redditionis, sed terminorura etiam inter se. 
 Idcirco si quaedam similia sunt, inverse quoque similia 
 erunt, et altcme. Et inverse quidem duobus modis ; 
 inversione scilicet vel propositionis et redditionis quae 
 aliorum comparatorum communis est; vel terminorum, 
 quae videtur similium propria. Exempli g'ratia; ut 
 gubernator ad tempestatem, sic sapiens ad fortunam : 
 inversti ergo ; ut sapiens ad fortunam, sic gubernator 
 ad tempestatem. Haec propositionis et redditionis 
 inversio est. Rursus, ut tempestas ad gubematorem, 
 sic fortuna ad sapientem : hsec inversio est terminorum. 
 Alternatio est quando antecedens propositionis antece- 
 denti redditionis et consequens consequenti compara- 
 tur. Regula ergo hie est; si queedam similia fuerint, 
 allerne similia erunt. Ut gubernator ad tempestatem, 
 sic sapiens ad fortunam : ergo, altern^ ; ut gubernator 
 ad sapientem, sic tempestas ad fortunam. Inversio- 
 iium hujusmodi et altcrnationum in mathematicis pro- 
 portionibus usus maximus est : sed proportio non ma- 
 theraatica solum, verum eti.am logica est, ut supradixi- 
 tnus, rerum omnium communis; ejus ergo regulse non 
 erant hie omittendae. 
 
 Ficta similitudo parera vim habet superioribus illis, 
 sed pra;cipu6 in hac explicata similitudine iGsopici 
 apologi excellunt. 
 
 Horat. 1 Epist. 
 
 " Quod si me populus Romanus forte roget, cur 
 Non ut porticibus, sic judiciis fruar lisdem? 
 Nee sequar aut fugiara qua; deligit ipse vel edit? 
 Olim quod vulpes aegroto cauta leoni 
 Respondit, referam ; quia me vestigia terrent 
 Omnia te adversum spectanlia, nulla retrorsum." 
 
 Hue etiam refertur parabola Socratica vulga dicta : 
 quae est inductio similium interrogationib. fere con- 
 stans. " Ilia autem," inquit Fabius, " banc habuit 
 vim ; ut ciim plura interrogasset Socrates, quae fateri 
 adversario iiecesse esset, novissime id, de quo quaere- 
 batur, inferret, cui simile adversarius concessisset." 
 Vide pag. 882, ad *. 
 
 CAP. XXII. 
 
 De Similibus. 
 
 Hactenus similia, quorum qualitasesteadem. "Dis- 
 similia sunt coraparata, quorum qualitas est diversa." 
 
 Contrariorum euim eadem scientia est. Et Cic. in 
 Top. " ejusdem est," inquit, " dissimile et simile inve- 
 nire." In hoc differunt dissimilia a diversis, quod dis- 
 similitudo sit differentia comparata, et non idem, eodem 
 saltem tempore, sed diversis plerumque subjectis attri- 
 buatur. Itaque diversorum uno negato, alterum affir- 
 3 L 
 
 matur; dissimilia, sivc diversa sive opposita, simul 
 affirmari aut negari possunt. Diversa autem qualitas 
 est non eadem ; sive diversa sit sivc opposita : quasi 
 dicas dissimilium dissimilis est ratio. Argumentum 
 igitur dissimilitudinis est quando dissimile arguitur a 
 dissimili. 
 
 Contractae dissimilitudinis notte sunt "dissimile, 
 dispar, differens, aliud, secus :" Pro Plane. " Dissi- 
 milis est debitio pecunise et gratioe." Ennius : " O 
 domus antiqua, heu quara dispari dominare domino." 
 Dispar autem est non impar, sed dissimilis. Ctesar 
 1 Bell. Gal. " Hi omnes lingua, institutis, legibus inter 
 se differunt." 2 Agrar. "Alio vultu, alio vocis sono, 
 alio incessu esse meditabatur." Cic. 2 Nat. " Quoniam 
 coepi secus agere, atque initio dixeram." 
 
 Dissimilitudinis notoe etiam sunt per negationem si- 
 milium, " ut non similis, non talis, non idem, non tan- 
 quam," &c. 3 de Orat. " Non est pbilosophia similis 
 artium reliquarum." 2 Eueid. 
 
 "At non ille, satum quo te mentiris, Achilles, 
 Talis in hoste fuit Pri.irao." 
 
 Horat. 1 Epist. " Non eadem est eetas, non mens." 
 I ad Frat. "Sit annulus tuus, non tanquam vas ali- 
 quod, sed tanquam ipse tu." Hoc argumento pastor 
 ille errorem suum con6telur. Eclog. 1, 
 
 "Urbem (quam dicunt Romam) Meliboee, putavi, 
 Stultus ego huic nostrsD similem." 
 
 Et mox, 
 
 " Sic canibus catulos similes, sic matribus hoedos 
 Noram, sic parvis componere magna solebam." 
 
 Ut nee canibus catuli, nee matribus hoedi, sic nee 
 Mantua Romce similis est. In hoc exemplo errons 
 confessio pro negatione similium est. 
 
 Explicata dissimilitudo itidem cum notis est vel sine 
 notis. NottE sunt hie etiam negationes similium. 3 
 Philip. " Certus dies non ut sacrificii sic consilii ex- 
 pectari solet." 
 
 " Nota plerumque nulla est, cum dissimilitudo plenius 
 explicatur." 
 
 Quintil. 1. 5, c. 11, "Brutus occidit Hberos prodi- 
 tionem molientes. Manlius virtutem filii morte mulc- 
 tavit." 
 
 Catullus. 
 
 " Soles occidere et redire possunt : 
 Nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux, 
 Nox est perpetua una dormienda." 
 
 Dissimilitudo est diei et vitae nostroe. Redditio est 
 vitam semel amissam non restitui. Illustratur a dissi- 
 mili, quae propositio est, soJes occidere et redire possunt. 
 
 CAP. XXIII. 
 
 De Conjugatis. 
 
 Hactenus prima argumenta sunt cxposita : quorum 
 tria genera fuere; consentanea, dissentanea, et com- 
 parata. 
 
884 
 
 ARTIS LOGIC-£ PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 Sequuntur "orta dc primis; quae ad id quod arguunt 
 periude sunt ut prima uude oriuiitur: ut conjugata et 
 uotatio, distributio et definitio." 
 
 Id se itaque liabent vim argueudi ut argumenta arti- 
 ficialia, ct eandem quidem cum iis uude oriuutur: iiou 
 autem a se, quia uou prima, ut iu capite sccuudo jam 
 dictum est. Definitiouem autem \ix aliam requirunt 
 praeter ipsum uonicn, quod naturam eorum satis per sc 
 explicat : unde illud consectarium, " Orta argumeuta 
 periude esse ad id quod arguunt, ut sunt prima unde 
 oriuntur." 
 
 Quatuor hoe species ortorum, in duo genera, anonyma 
 licet, distinguuntur, cum propter dichotomia: studium, 
 tum quia conjugata et notatio sub eodem genere con- 
 tineutur, propter illam quae inter ea iutercedit commu- 
 nionem. Cicero itaque in Top. locum ex conjugatis 
 notatioui finitimuni esse dixit. £t in multis excmplis 
 conjugata u notatiune et nomine nihil aut parum difTe- 
 runt. Conimunio autem ilia duplex est: primo quod 
 sunt argumenta nominalia sive a nomine petita. Scd 
 in hoc differunt, ut etiam tradit Boet. 1. 4, in Top. Cic, 
 quod notatio expositione nominis, conjugatio similitu- 
 dine vocabuli ac derivatione perficitur. Neque idcirco 
 ad grammaticam pertinent : ex vi enim nominum argu- 
 menta petere, logici est, non graniniatici. ISecunda 
 communio est, quod sunt orta simplicia: neque enim 
 ex pluribus primis simul conjunctis, sed ex uno aliquo 
 argumento primo singula eorum exempla oriuntur, nisi 
 in nominibus compositis : compositorum enim nominum 
 composita interdum ex pluribus argumentis notatio est. 
 Distributio autem et deflnitio sunt argumenta realia, 
 i. e. in rerum explicatione versari solent, et composita, 
 i. e. ex pluribus argumentis primis simul conjunctis 
 originem suam trahuut. Si ergo ortorum genera, 
 qute anonyma esse diximus, nominibus distinguere 
 lubet, orta erunt vel nominalia et simplicia, ut conju- 
 gata et notatio, vel realia et composita, ut distributio 
 et definitio : nisi boc forte excipiamus, quod definitio 
 ex uno primo, i. e. ex sola forma nonnunquam constare 
 potest. £x his autem duobus generibus prius tractan- 
 dum est illud cui conjugata et notatio subjiciuntur, 
 quia fere simplicius est. Atque in hoc genere conju- 
 gata priorem sibi locum vendicant, quod ex solis con- 
 sentancis oriantur, cum notatio ex quovis argumento 
 primo petatur. Fabius 1. 5, c. 10, conjugata nibili fa- 
 cit: Aristoteles autem et Cicero in Topicis suis aliter 
 sentiunt; quorum ille 1. 3, c. 4, et 1. 7, c. 2, locos ex 
 dissentaneis, conjugatis et casibus plurimum ait valere; 
 et ad plurima esse utiles. 
 
 "Conjugata sunt nomina ab eodem principio vari^ de- 
 ducta. Utjustitia, Justus, juste." Aristoteles et Cicero 
 conjugata, ille, nomina ejusdem conjugationis ; hie, 
 ejusdem generis esse definiunt: sed neque ille quasi ju- 
 gum ipsum conjugatoruni, neque hie genus, neque nos- 
 ter principium ipsum sive originem et thema conjuga- 
 torum numero excludit. Conjugata autem sunt omnia 
 non solum nomina tam substantiva quam adjectiva, sed 
 etiara verba, et, quae Aristoteles casus vocat, adverbia, 
 cum paronuma, i. e. derivata, turn ipsa themata, serva- 
 tis taraen istis conditionibus. 1 . Si ut idem sonant, sic 
 idem etiam significant. 2. Si in eadem significationis 
 
 ratione sumantur. Nam si unum significat potentiam 
 sive facultatcin aut habitum, ultcrnm veru actum, etcx 
 potentiasive habitu arguatur actus, aut contra, captio est. 
 3. Si iu iis symbolum sit cousentaneorum argumen- 
 torum, i. e. si a conscntancis orta sunt: quorum vim ct 
 afTectionem in arguendo aliis nominibus iisque conju- 
 gatis referant : quorum etiam ad inventionera noniina- 
 lis hujusque conjugationis indicio ducamur : unde 
 elucet non contemnendus hujus loci usus, preesertim io 
 definitionibus. 
 
 Sequuntur exempla; ut justitia, Justus, juste. Cu- 
 jusmodi in exemplis observandum est, abstractum quod 
 vocant, causam esse concreti, et coucrttum adverbii. 
 Ut justitia est causa, cur aliquis sit Justus: et quia 
 Justus est, idcirco justd agit. Quod tamen non est 
 ubique verum : sanum enim, i. e. quod efficit aut con- 
 servat sanitatcm, causa est sanitatis, concretum scilicet 
 abstract!, ut notat Aristot. top. 2, 3, Propert. lib. 2, 
 
 " Libertas quoniam nulli jam restat amanti, 
 NuUus liber erit, siquis amare velit." 
 
 Hie libertas, quse causa est cur sis liber, quia non 
 restat, ergo nullus, &c. Cicero 3, de Nat. Deor. cum 
 de Dionysio tyranno loquitur : "Jam mensas argenteas 
 de omnibus delubris jussit auferri, in quibus quud more 
 veteris Griecite inscriptura esset bonorum dcorum, uti 
 eorum bonitate velle se dicebat : dii boni sunt : eorum 
 igitur bonitate est utendum." Hie ex effectis ad causas 
 est disputatum ; ut vult Ramus : ut mihi quidem vide- 
 tur a causis ad effecta. Terent. " Homo sum, bumani 
 a me nihil alienum puto." Ex subjecto est ad adjunc- 
 tum. In Pison. " Cum esset omnis ilia causa consula- 
 ris et senatoria, auxilio mihi opus fuerat et consulis et 
 senatus." Ex adjunctis est ad subjectum. Phil. 2, " Non 
 tractabo utconsulem, ne ille quidem me ut consularem." 
 Ex effecto est ad causam : nam esse consulem causa est 
 ut quis postea sit consnlaris: unde sic arguitur; non 
 agnoscit is in me effectum, non agnoscam ergo in eo 
 causam. Notandum est nonnulla sensu duntaxat, non 
 sono esse conjugata : ut "somnus, dormiens; morbus, 
 ajger." 
 
 CAP. XXIV. 
 
 De Notatione. 
 
 " Notatio est nominis interpretaiio," i. e. reddita 
 ratio cur quidvis ita nominatum sit. Definitio autem 
 haec est " Boetbii, 1. 1, in Cic. Top. Notatio inquit Cic. 
 in Top, Graecis etymologia dicitur," i. e. verbura ex 
 verbo veroloquium : "nos autem novitatem verbi non 
 satis apti fugientes, genus hoc notationem appellamus, 
 quia sunt verba rerum notae." Haec ille. Ex iis igitur 
 quae supradicta sunt, intelligi potest, notationem esse 
 argumentum ortum adeoque symbolum alicujus priii:i; 
 esse noniinalc, i. e. ut Cicero loquitur, argumentum ex 
 vi nominis elicitum. 
 
 " Quippe nomina sunt nota; rerum et ciijuslibet 
 nominis vel dcrivati vel compositi, siquidem notatione 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 885 
 
 •vera nomen indituni fuit, ratio reddi potest ex aliquo 
 argumento primo." 
 
 " Ut homo ab liunio." Hsec a materia est notatio. 
 Sed linoiiae, ciim prima ilia quam Adamus in Edene, 
 turn illae variie atque a prima fortassis ortsp, quas con- 
 ditores turns Babelicae subito acceperunt, divinitus 
 prociildubio datae sunt ; unde vocum primitivaruni ratio 
 si igfnoretur, mirum non est : quae autem voces derivatoe 
 sunt aut compositae, vel earum orig'ines ex aliis linguis 
 antiquis jamque obsoletis pctendae sunt, vel ipsas vetus- 
 tate aut infimae plebis inquinata ferepronuntiatione ita 
 immutatae, mendose etiam scribendi consuetudine ita 
 quasi obliteratae, ut vera vocura notatio raro admodum 
 teneatur. Unde arg-umentura a notatione, nisi ea forte 
 manifestissima sit, fallax admodum ct ssepe ludicrum 
 est. 
 
 Nunc reliqua exempla videamus. Ovid. 6 Fast. 
 
 " Stat vi terra sua ; \i stando Vesta vocatur." 
 
 Terra dicitur Vesta ab effecto suo naturali, propterea 
 quod vi sua stat. 
 
 *' At locus a flammis et quod fovet omnia dictus." 
 
 Ex cffectis est notatio. Item Verr. 4, " O verrea 
 praeclara ! Quo enim accessisti, quo non attuleris tecum 
 istum diem .•* Etenim quam tu domum, quam urbem 
 adiisti, quod fanuni denique, quod non eversum atque 
 extersum reliqueris .'' Quare appellantur sane ista Ver- 
 rea, quoe non ex nomine, sed ex moribus naturaque 
 tua constituta esse videantur." Ex efTectis item est 
 notatio. Ovid. 1 Fast. 
 
 " Prima dies tibi,Carna, datur, dea cardinis haeeest. 
 Numine clausa aperit, claudit aperta suo." 
 
 Notatio hfEC e subjecto est, cardine scilicet, in quo 
 versando dea ilia exercebatur. Hinc ilia cavillatio in 
 Antonium generum : " Tuce conjugis, bonae focminae, 
 locupletis quidem certe, Bambalio quidem pater, homo 
 nullo nnmero, nihil illo contemptius; qui propter heesi- 
 tantiam lingua? stuporemque cordis, cognomen ex 
 contumelia traxerit." Ex adjunctis est notatio heec 
 Bambalionis, quia balbus et stupidus. E dissentaneis 
 autem sunt ilia apud Quintil. 1. 1, c. 6. " Lucus, quia 
 umbra opacus parum luceat: et Indus, quia sit longis- 
 sim^ a lusu : et dis quia minime dives." Est etiam h 
 comparatis notatio pyropi, quod ignis quondam speciem 
 preebeat. 
 
 Atque hactenus de notatione: nunc aliquid de no- 
 mine adjiciendum est. " Est enim ut notationi ad 
 suum nomen, sic nomini ad notationem sua aflfectio:" 
 Hoc est, ut notatio arguit nomen, sic nomen vicissim 
 arguit notationem. Ut animi plenus, ergo animosus; 
 et contra, animosus, ergo animi plenus. Nam et no- 
 men quoque ortum argumentum est; ex quo autem 
 fonte oriatur, notatio declarat. Hsec autem appendi- 
 cule de nomine idcirco est adjecta, quia cum alia ari,^u- 
 menta inter se affecta, quot quidem eodem nomine ac 
 definitione non sunt comprehensa, sua seorsum capita 
 sibi habuerint, et tantillum esset quod de nomine di- 
 cendura crat, non videbatur caput novum ob id esse 
 instituendum. In hoc igitur capite duo loci inventi- 
 
 onis continentur, notationis et nominis : inter quos si 
 comparatio fiat, potior videtur nominis. Unde tota 
 baec categoria ab Aristotele " locus a nomine" dicitur. 
 Ssepiusque et firmius a nomine quam a notatione argu- 
 mentum ducitur; ut homo est, ergo ex humo ; focus 
 est, ergo fovet. At non eadem vi argumentum a no- 
 tatione deducitur; ex humo est, homo igitur; fovet 
 omnia, ergo focus est. 
 
 CAP. XXV. 
 
 De Distributione. 
 
 Reliqdum est ex ortis aliunde argumentis argu- 
 mentum distributionis et definitionis. 
 
 " In qua utraque affectio reciprocationis est, illic 
 partium omnium cum toto, hie definitionis cum defi- 
 nito." 
 
 Reciprocatio autem hoc loco est qua prorsus idem, 
 eaderaque, ut ita dicam, essentia utrinque significatur: 
 nam partes omnes simul sumptae, i. e. rite compositse, 
 idem sunt quod totum, et definitio idem, quod defini- 
 tum ; quod de nullo prteterea genere argumentorum 
 dici potest. Unde nascitur haec regula utrique huic 
 arguniento comniujiis, utin distributione ac definitione 
 " nequid desit, nequid redundet:" nam ubi reciproca- 
 tio, ibi quoque eequalitas requiritur. Hinc eximia ilia 
 distributionis et definitionis laus effloruit; ex iis nempe 
 artium institutiones maxima ex parte constare. Cum 
 n. omnia artium proecepta constare debeant ex argu- 
 mentis reciprocis, reciprocatio autem nusquam alibi 
 rcperiatur nisi inter formam (quae ipsa in definitioni- 
 bus comprehendi solet) et formatum, inter subjectum et 
 propriura adjunctum ; hinc factum est ut praecepta 
 omnia vel definitiones sint vel distributiones vel regu- 
 lie quaedam sive consectaria, qute proprietatum expli- 
 cationes dicuntur. 
 
 " Distributio est, cum totum in partes distribuitur. 
 Totum est, quod continet partes. 
 Pars est, quae continetur a toto." 
 Totum logice et generaliter dicitur, quicquid quo- 
 cunque modo distribuitur et partes continet : pars, quae 
 quocunque modo continetur a toto. 
 
 "Atque ut distinctio totius in partes, distributio; 
 sic collectio partium ad constituendum totum, inductio 
 dicitur." 
 
 Inter banc autem inductionem et distributionem nul- 
 lum aliud discrimen est, nisi quod distributio a toto ad 
 partes, haec vero a partibus ad totum progreditur. 
 Quamobrem, ut supra nomen ad notationem, ita hie 
 inductio ad distributionem referenda est ; non ad syl- 
 logismos, ut plerique volunt; cum non alio modo ab 
 inductione argumentemur atque a distributione: siqui- 
 dem eadem est via Thebis Athenas quae Athenis Thebas. 
 Tnductionis autem auctorem Aristoteles agnoscit So- 
 cratem ; ejusque necessitatem tantam esse testatur, ut 
 cum scientia universalium sit, universalia cognoscere 
 nequeamus nisi per inductionem. Inductionis ergo ope 
 
886 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 praecepta artium inrenta sunt ; ut in proaemio mo- 
 nuimus. ' 
 
 " Distributio sumitur ex arg'umentis toti quidcm con- 
 sentaneis, inter se atitem dissentaneis." 
 
 Sed dissensio ilia non est distributionis dissensio 
 (nunquam n. disscntaneum in disseutancuui distribui- 
 tur) sed partitim distributarum. 
 
 "Itaque tantoaccuratiorerit distributio, quanto par- 
 tium et cum toto consensio et inter se dissensio major 
 fuerit" 
 
 Hinc efBcitur, earn distributionem accuratissimam 
 esse, quae in duas partes fit; eaque "dichotomia" di- 
 citur : dissensio enira inter duo maxima est; centra- 
 riorum unum uni tantum oppouitur. Platonis itaque 
 regula est : " oportet in qudm proximum fieri potest 
 numerum semper dividere." Quod si dichotomiam in- 
 venire non queamus, difficile n. est earn semper inve- 
 nire, species bisbinas ponere interdum praestat, quasi 
 sub duobus sceiicribus, licet anonjmis, quani quatunr 
 sub uno. Hapc n. distributionis forma, licet non sit 
 optima, est tamen optimse proxima. Hac ratione su- 
 pra cap. 3, Ramus divisit causas in duo g-enera ano- 
 nyma, nempe " efficienteni et materiam, aut formam et 
 finem." Eff. Ubi autem dichotomia nullo modo com- 
 mode adhiberi potest, " multis protinus differentiis res 
 dividenda est," ut Aristoteles monet. Neque enim 
 propter dichotomite studinm distributio vel mutilanda 
 vel implicanda aut confundcuda est. 
 
 CAP. XXVI. 
 
 De Distributione ex Cautis. 
 
 " Distributio prima est ex absolute consentaneis, 
 causis nempe et effectis. Distributio ex causis est, 
 quando partes sunt causae totius." 
 
 " Hie distributio integri in sua membra preecipue 
 laudatur." 
 
 " Integrum est totum, cui partes sunt essentiales," 
 i. e. quod partibus totam suam essentiam complecten- 
 tibus constituitur ; ideoque sjrabolum est effecti ex 
 materia per formam existentis. 
 
 " Membrum est pars integri." 
 
 Nimirum integro suo essentialis. Sive ut Aristot. 
 Phil. 8, 15, "Membra sunt ex quibus integrum com- 
 ponitur." Et membra quidem synibola sunt causaruni 
 essentialium, materiae nimirum et formoe, in quibus tota 
 integri essentia cousistit : singula n. membra materiam 
 continent ; cuncta simul, ipsam quoque formam. " Sic 
 grammatica in etjmologiam et syntaxin ; rhetorica in 
 elocutionem et actionem ; logica in inventionem et dis- 
 positionem argumentorum dividitur. Ab his n. partib. 
 artea illoe constituuntur;" non tanquam ex causis, sed 
 tanquam ex causarum sjmbolis. Cum enim essentia 
 dialecticse partim communis sit materia scilicet, i. e. 
 pnecepta, et forma eliam nempe methodica illorum 
 prfficeptorum dispositio ; partim propria, quae in bene 
 dusercndo posita est, tota boec dialecticse essentia in 
 
 inrentione et dispositione coniprehenditur. Nee tamen 
 partes istre sunt ipsa materia, i. e. prtecepta, nee ipsa 
 forma communis, i. e. methodica proeceptorum dispo- 
 sitio, nee propria, i. e. ipsa facultate dissercndi ; sed ex 
 pra3ceptis methodic^ dispositis conflato; sunt, et ipsa 
 facultas disserendi inveutionis et dispositionis finibus 
 continetur. 
 
 Quae sequuntur apud authorem nostrum exempla duo, 
 alterum ex Virgilio, Georg. 1, alterum ex Cicerone pro 
 Mureena, objectis utraque distinguuntur, non causis; 
 ideoque ad cap. 28, ad distributionem nempe e sub- 
 jectis, ad quam etiam preemissa ilia annotatio de usu 
 pertinet. 
 
 " Quinctiam aliter tractatur hoc argumenti genus, 
 vel a partibus ad totum, vel k toto ad partes." 
 
 Hac de re Aristoteles Top. 6, 6, regulas quasdam 
 tradit. Primo a partibus : " affirmatis ]>artibus cunc- 
 tis, affirmatur totum:" et contra; " sublatis partibus 
 cunctis, tolli totum." Item ab una parte:,'" una parte 
 sublata, totum tolli." Secundo a toto ad partes : " toto 
 affirmato, affirmantur partes." Verum haec omnia 
 ex ilia reciprocationis regula superioris capitis initio 
 tradita satis intclliguntur. Nam quae reciprocantnr, 
 eorum alterum ex altero vicissira et necessario affir- 
 mate et negate concluditur. Hoc vero, ut Aristoteles 
 etiam notavit, non sequitur ; sublato integro, partes 
 toUuntur. 
 
 Utriusque generis (nempe affirmationis et negationis a 
 partibus ad totum) exemplum habemus apud Catullum. 
 
 " Quintia formosa est multis : mihi Candida, longa. 
 Recta est : hsx. ego sic singula confiteor : 
 
 Totum illud, formosa, nego. Nam nulla venustas. 
 Nulla in tam magno est corpore mica salis. 
 
 Lesbia formosa est : qu£B cum pulcherrima tota est. 
 Turn omnibus ima omnes surripuit veneres." 
 
 Est et alia distributio ex causis et merito quidem ira- 
 perfectior dicta, cum non tam ipsius rei quam ejus cau- 
 sarum distributio sit: ut ab efficiente, testimonium est 
 divinum vel humanum. Sic statuse veteres aliae facta: 
 erant a Phydia, alite a Polycleto, &c. Distributio boec 
 qusedam est totius in partes ; ubi tamen non tam partes 
 ipsae ponuntur quam pro iis earum efficientis, quibus 
 inter se distinguuntur. Sic statute aliae erant aureie, 
 aliee argentete, alise seneae, aliae eburnete, &c. distri- 
 butio est ex materia. Aliae ad bominum, aliae ad bru- 
 torum effigiem' factee ; est distributio a forma externa. 
 Aliae factae sunt ad usum religiosum, aliae ad civilem ; 
 est distributio a fine. 
 
 CAP. XXVII. 
 
 De Distributione ex Effectis, ubi de Genere et Specie. 
 
 " Distributio ex effectis est, quando partes sunt 
 effecta. 
 
 Distributio generis in species hie excellit." 
 Nonnulli ex Cicerone distributionem integri in mem- 
 bra " partitionem " vocant ; generis in species " divi- 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 887 
 
 sionern." Nee de nihilo sane : membra enim copulari, 
 species disjungfi solent. 
 
 " Genus est totum partibus essentiale." 
 In quo contrarium est integro : illic enim toti partes, 
 hie totum partibus est essentiale : unde constat, illam 
 ex causis, banc ex efFectis distributionem recte dici. 
 Genus autem " est totum partibus essentiale,'' quia il- 
 lam essentiam nempe materiam et ibrmam, quae specie- 
 bus omnibus aeque communis est, significatione sua 
 compleclitur: vel brcvius, quia synibolum est commu- 
 nis essentiae. Neque enim genus proprie essentiam spe- 
 ciebus coramunicat (cum in se extra species revera 
 nihil sit) sed earum duntaxat essentiam signifieet. Quod 
 enim essentiale est et speciebus omnibus commune, ejus 
 notio genus dieitur. Et idtea ssepe a Graecis, nou se- 
 parata quidem a rebus ilia, ut velunt Platonica, quae 
 nugse sunt, teste Aristot. Phil. 1, 7, et v. 5. Sed quod 
 cogitatione et ratione unum et idem est specieb. multis 
 commune in quibus re et natura est singulatim, ut 
 Plato in Menone. Stoici etiam Idceas, ut refert Plut. 
 de Placit. 1, 10, nostras iiotiones esse dixerunt. 
 " Species est pars generis." 
 
 Sic etiam Aristoteles, Phil. 8, 25. Et Cicero Invent. 
 1, " Pars quae generi subest." Ex definitione autem 
 generis intelligimus speciem cjusmodi partem esse cu- 
 jus essentia communis in generis significatione conti- 
 neatur. Propriam autem essentiam species, per quam 
 est id quod est, a propria forma habct, quae generis sig- 
 nificatione minime continetur." Sic etiam Aristot. Phil. 
 Z, 12, " Genus non videturparticepsessediffcrentiarum: 
 simul ti. contrariorum idem particeps esset ; differentiae 
 7». contrariae sunt." Unde illud ; plus est in specie 
 quam in genere : et illud Porphyrii ; " differentia est 
 qua species superat genus." Tota igitur generis es- 
 sentia singulis cequaliterinest speciebus; at tota essen- 
 tia speciei non est in genere, nisi potcntia, ut inquit 
 Porphyrius. Hine ut species est pars generis, ita 
 genus pars esse speciei quodammoJo videtur: quod et 
 Plato in Politico notavit. Sic animal genus huminis 
 et bestiae dicimus. Animal enim est totum, cujus 
 essentia, nempe corporea, animata, sentiens, ad homi- 
 nem et bestiam communiter attinet. Sic dicimus 
 hominem et bestiam species animalis; quia partes sunt 
 animali subjectie, quce animalis essentiam communem 
 babent. 
 
 '• Genus est generalissimum aut subalternum. 
 Species subalterna aut specialissima. 
 Genus generalissimum, cujus nullum est genus." 
 Ut in logica inventione argumentum est genus ge- 
 neralissimum artifieialium et iuartificialium. 
 
 " Subalternum genus, ut subalterna item species, 
 quod species hujus, illius autem genus est." 
 
 Id est, quod nunc genus est, nunc species : genus, 
 si ad species sibi subjectas referatur; species, si ad 
 suum genus. 
 
 Sic causa, genus est materise et formaD ; species, 
 argumenti absolute consentanei. Sic homo est genus 
 subalternum, sive species subalterna : species quidem, 
 si ad animal referas ; genus, si ad singulos homines. 
 
 " Species specialissima est, qua individua est in spe- 
 cies alias." 
 
 Ut materia et forma quseque singularis. Sic homi- 
 nes singuli sunt species specialissimoe bominis, et sin- 
 guli leones leonis. 
 
 Logicorum quidem pars maxima hominem speciem 
 specialissimam, singulos homines individua vocaut, 
 non species. Veriim ut animal est totum cujus essen- 
 tia communis, nempe corporea, animata, sentiens, ad 
 hominem et bestiam communiter attinet ; sic homo est 
 totum, cujus communis essentia rationalis communiter 
 ad singulos attinet homines ; atque ut homo et bestia 
 species sunt animalis, quia partes sunt animali sub- 
 jectse, quae animalis essentiam communem babent; iia 
 singuli homines species sunt hominis, quia partes sunt 
 bomini subjectte, quae hominis essentiam communem 
 babent : ergo homo non minus est singulorum homi- 
 num genus quam animal hominis; homines singuli 
 non minus sunt hominis species quam homo animalis. 
 Singuli enim homines propria forma differunt: quce 
 autem forma differunt propria, differunt et specie; 
 teste Aristot. Phys. 1,7. Deinde, quicquid differt, aut 
 genere differt aut specie ; teste eodem Aristot, Phil. 
 10, 3. Differre autem genere singulos homines nemo 
 dixerit; differunt ergo specie. Nam quod aiunt ho- 
 minem esse speciem singulorum bominuni, id pland 
 absurdum est: species enim pars est ejus cujus est 
 species; ut ex ejus definitione constat: genus porro 
 et species cum relata sint, genus utique erit speciei 
 genus; species, generis erit species. Si igitur homo, 
 ut vulgo volunt, est species singulorum hominum ; 
 singuli homines erunt genus huminis; quod nimis ab- 
 surdum est. At inquiunt singuli homines numero tan- 
 tum differunt, non forma. Verum quae numero dif- 
 ferunt, forma quoque differre, jam supra capite de 
 forma satis ostendimus; etsi formae cujusque propriae 
 differentia nobis non nisi per externa qucedam effccta, 
 et accidentia, quae vocant, diguosci potest. Deiude, 
 singuli homines inter se disparantur, ergo opponuntur: 
 qua; autem inter se opponuntur, eorum eadem forma 
 esse non potest; forma ergo differunt nou numero tan- 
 tum. Itaque apud Laertium,in Zenoue, stoici docent, 
 Socratem esse speciem specialissimam. Immo Aristot. 
 de Part. 1, 4, Socratem et Coriscum species infimas 
 vocat. Sic jurisconsulti, hominem genus appellant ; 
 Stichum et Pamphilum species. 
 
 " Genus vero et species notte sunt causarum et effec- 
 torum." 
 
 In animali n. est essentia corporea, quae materia est 
 ad species communiter attinens: tum facultas vitae et 
 sensus, quie forma item communiter ad species spectat. 
 Quare " genus contiuet causas, quae communiter ad 
 ipsius species attinent: contra itaque etiam species 
 effecta generis sui continent." 
 
 " Hine universale est insigne ac praestabile: quia 
 causam declarat." 
 
 Idem ait Aristot. Poster. 1, 24. 
 " Distributio generis in species valde quidem excel- 
 lit, sed difficilis est et rara inventu." 
 
 Excellit quidem quia quicquid in artibus ex causis et 
 effectis sumitur, id totum fere generis et speciei no- 
 tionibuscomprehenditur: difficilis est, cum quia formae, 
 unde species oriuntur, difficiles itidem inventu sunt ; 
 
888 
 
 ARTIS LOGICJ; PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 turn etiam propter vocum penuriam, quibus genera et 
 species apte nominentur. 
 
 Attameii illustratiouis et exempli gratia afferemus 
 quod poterimus. Ovidius 1 Metam. dividit animal in 
 quinque species, Stellas, avcs, bestias, pisces, homines : 
 stcllis animam tribuens, ut etiam quidam philosopbi 
 tribuerunt. 
 
 " Neu regio foret ulla suis animalibus orba, 
 Astra tenant coelcste solum formeque deorum," &c. 
 
 Sic Cic. Offic. 1, virtutem dividit in species quatuor, 
 prudentiaro, justitiam, fortitudinem, temperantiam ; 
 quae tamen ipste non ponuntur in distributione, sed, 
 quod idem est, earum formoe. " Sed omne quod ho- 
 nestum est, id quatuor partium oritur ex aliqua: aut 
 enim in perspicentia veri solertiaque versatur, aut in 
 societate hominum tuenda, tribuendoque suum unicui- 
 que, et rerum contractarum fide; aut in animi excelsi 
 atque invicti mag'nitudine ac robore; aut in omnibus 
 quse fiunt, quteque dicuntur, ordine et modo, in quo 
 inest niodestia et temperantia." 
 
 Hsec quidem, ut dixi, est "distributio generis in spe- 
 cierum formas;" quae perinde est ac si in ipsa species 
 esset; "quia forma cum genere constituunt suas spe- 
 cies." 
 
 " Genus et species non solum tractautur hac simplici 
 divisionis formula, sed etiam separatim alterum ex al- 
 tero." 
 
 Hoc est, quod de toto genere, id de omnibus etiam 
 speciebus recte affirmatur. Sic Cicero, pro Archia, 
 poeticam cum eloquentia comparans, quae sunt species 
 artis, cognatas esse ait inter se, quia idem de artibus in 
 genere, bumanioribus prsesertim, affirmatur. " Etenim 
 omnes artes, quae ad humanitatem pertinent, habent 
 quoddam commune vinculum, et quasi cognatione qua- 
 dam inter se continentur." 
 
 " Contra genus tractatur per species." 
 
 Hoc est, quod de omnibus speciebus, id de genere 
 quoque recte affirmatur. Sic Ovidius probat, virtutem 
 in rebus adversis clariorem esse, per inductionem spe- 
 cierum : quoniam scilicet virtus militis, nautse, medici, 
 rebus adversis spectatur, 4 Trist. 
 
 " Hectora quis nosset, felix si Troia fuisset ? 
 
 Publica virtutis per mala facta via est : 
 Ars tua, Tiphy, jacet, si non sit in sequore fluctus : 
 
 Si valeant homines, ars tua, Phoebe, jacet. 
 Quae latet, inque bonis cessat non cognita rebus, 
 
 Apparet virtus arguiturque malis." 
 
 Ciira itaque genus tractetur etiam per species, ut 
 uuperiore regula docemur, et exempla specialia species 
 eorum sint, quorum exempla sunt ; bine sequitur, " ex- 
 empla speciali suo generi accommodata, hujus esse 
 loci ;'' sive unum solum, sive per inductionem pluraad- 
 hibeantur : specialia inquam, exempla enim vel similia 
 sunt, quae similia arguunt; vel specialia, quae arguunt 
 suum genus; qualia fuerunt in singulis argumentorum 
 capitibus ex poetis et oratoribus desumpta. Exemplo- 
 rum autem specialium, non solum in artib. cum inve- 
 niendis tum tradendis usus plan6 est necessarius (nam 
 inductione exeraplorum praecepta coUiguntur, et eorum 
 
 usu illustrantur) veriim etiam in omni sermone, quoties 
 res lucem desiderat. Cujusmodi est illud Cic. ad At- 
 tic um : " Urbem tu reliuquas? Ergo idem si Galli 
 venirent. Non est, inquit, in parietibus respub. at in 
 aris et focis: fecit idem Tbemistocles : fluctum enim 
 totius barbarite ferre urbs una non poterat. At idem 
 Pericles non fecit, annum fere post quinquagesimum, 
 quum prteter moenia nihil tcneret: nostri olim, urbe 
 reliqua capta, arcem tamen retinuerunt." Hie ab ex- 
 cmplo speciali in utramque partem disseritur. Tbe- 
 mistocles deseruit Athenas ; ergo urbem deserere licet. 
 Pericles non deseruit Athenas ; nee Romani Gallis ve- 
 nientibus Romam ; ergo urbs non est deserenda. Quod 
 si hoc modo argumentaretur, Tbemistocles urbem reli- 
 quit, ergo mihi licet; argumentum esset a simili: nam 
 exempla, cum ad alia specialia accommodantur, similia 
 sunt vel dissimilia. Hujus autem loci ea demum sunt, 
 quae generi suo accommodantur. 
 
 Est et alia imperfectior distributio ex effectis, quando 
 partes non sunt propria effecta totius, sed ipsarum par- 
 tium. Ut Cic. de Senect. " Nautarum alii malos scan- 
 dunt, alii per foros cursitant, alii sentinam exhauriunt; 
 gubernator autem clavum tenet in puppi." In hoc exem- 
 plo totum est nauta, quod est singulorum nautarum 
 genus; partes, malum scandere, cursitare, &c. Quae 
 tamen nautae ut totius sive generis partes sive species 
 non sunt, sed specierum, i. e. singulorum nautarum 
 effecta sive officia, quibus ipsae species, i. e. singuli 
 nauta; inter se distinguuntur. Veriim quanto baec dis- 
 tributio imperfectior est, tanto est frequentior. Usus 
 autem illius praecipuus est, ut perfections raritatem 
 suppleat ; cum distributio generis in species, ut supra- 
 dictum est, tam difficilis inveutu sit. 
 
 CAP. XXVIII. 
 
 De Distributione e Subjectis. 
 
 "Reliqua distributio est modo quodam consentane- 
 orum, ut subjectorum et adjunctorum. Distributio e 
 subjectis est, ciim partes sunt subjecta." Id est quando 
 verae partes intellectoe subjectis distinguuntur vel adum- 
 brantur. 
 
 Ut apud Catullum : 
 
 " Virginitas non tota tua est : ex parte parentum est. 
 Tertia pars matri data, pars data tertia patri : 
 Tertia sola tua est : noli pugnare duobiis. 
 Qui genero sua jura simul cum dote dedenint." 
 
 Virginitas puellae vel jus potius virginitatis in tres 
 partes dividitur subjectis distinctas, matre, patre, et ipsa 
 puella. Alterum exemplum ex cap. 26 hue transfertur, 
 Virgil. 1 Georg. ubi poiita exorditur opus suum a di- 
 visione in quatuor partes, subjectis suis occupantibus 
 distinctas, segetes, arbores, pecora, apes. 
 
 " Quid faciat Isetas segetes, quo sidcre terram 
 Vertere, Maecenas, ulmisque adjungcre vitcs 
 Conveniat : quae cura bourn, qui cultus habendo 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 889 
 
 Sit pecori, atque apibus qiaanta expcrientia parcis, 
 Hinc canere incipiaui." 
 
 Tertium exemplum ex eodem etiam capite hue trans- 
 fertur. Cic. pro Muraena : " Intellig-o, judices, tres 
 totiiis accusationis partes fuisse: et eariim unam in re- 
 prehensione vitse, alteram in contentione dignitatis, 
 tertiam in criminibus ambitus esse versatara." Hie 
 tota aecusatioin tria membra distribuitur, subjectis suis 
 occupantibus distincta : atque in his tribus exemplis 
 totum est integ-rum. Quartum exemplum est generis 
 in species ex Cic. 5 Tuscul. " Siut sane ilia tria genera 
 bonorum, dum corporis et externa jaceant humi, et 
 tantummodo quia sumenda sunt, appellentur bona. 
 Alia autem, divina ilia, longfe lateque se pandant, 
 ccelumque contingant." Hie Cicero bona in tres species, 
 quas ille genera vocat, dividit, subjectis suis distinctas; 
 nempe animi, corporis, et fortunes. ' 
 
 CAP. XXIX. 
 
 De Distributione ex Adjunctis, 
 
 "DisTRiBUTio ex adjunctis est, quando partes sunt 
 adjuncta." 
 
 Ut hominum alii sani, alii sgri : alii divites, alii 
 pauperes. 
 
 Sic Virgil. 1 Georg. mundum dividit in quinque 
 partes; mediam torridara, duao extremas frigidas, ct 
 reliquas duas temperatas : 
 
 " Quinque tenent coelum zonae, qnarum una corusco 
 Semper sole rubens, et torrida semper ab igni, &c." 
 
 Ceesar 1 Belli Gall. " Gallia est omnis divisa in tres 
 partes ; quarum unam incolunt Belgee, aliam Aquitani, 
 tertiam, qui, ipsorum lingua Celtae, nostra Galli, ap- 
 pellantur. 
 
 In distributionibus hujusmodi imperfectis adverten- 
 dum est id quod vidctur distribui. Nam si id totius 
 rationem habet, integri vcl generis, distributio est; si 
 non habet rationem totius, sed simplex aliquod argu- 
 inentum est, ut causa, effectum, subjcctum, adjunctum, 
 non est distributio sed enumeratio potius, vel causarum 
 plurium ejusdem effecti, vel efFectorum plurium ejus- 
 dem causa;, vel subjectorum plurium ejusdem adjuncti, 
 vel denique adjunctorum plurium ejusdem subjecti. 
 Hoc genere distributionis imperfeclo argumenta soepe 
 quorum verae species nullae apparent, modis quibus- 
 dam distinguuntur, modos autem supra in adjunctis 
 posuimus. Sic in eausis, " procreans et conservans, 
 modi" efficientis, " non species," dicuntur : quia non 
 differunt inter se ut species per differentias oppositas, 
 sed ita ut uni et eidem efficienti convenire queant; 
 quandoquidem quse causa procreat, eadem fere eonser- 
 vat; potestque effieere idem vel solus, vel cum aliis; 
 nonnulla vel per se, vel per accidens. 
 
 CAP. XXX. 
 
 De Dejinitione. 
 
 Definitio in tradendis artibus est usu quidem prior 
 distributione (prius enim de6nitur unaqureque res 
 quam distribuitur) natura taraen et inveniendi ordine 
 est posterior : genus enim, quo non adbibito, si quod 
 sit, nulla definitio constitui potest, a distributione, qui 
 proprius generis est locus, mutuura accipit. 
 
 " Definitio est, cum explicatur quid res sit." 
 
 Definitio vocatur, to quod rei cujusque essentiam 
 definit, eamque suis quasi finibus circumscribit. 
 
 " Atque ut definitio arguit sive explicat definitum, 
 sic vicissim a definito argui potest." Qnoe quanquam 
 argumentorum omnium affectio communis est arguere 
 inter se vicissim et argui, hie tamen eandem ob eausam 
 facta mentio est definiti, ob quam in capite notationis 
 facta est nominis; ne argumentorum numero exeludi 
 videatur, cum neque ejusdem sit nominis cum defini- 
 tione quam arguit, neque caput sibi peculiareobtineat; 
 sicut alia argumentorum paria, quoe nominis ejusdem 
 non sunt. Ad reciprocationem autem quod attinct, 
 quaj definitioni cum distributione communis est, ea 
 definitionis et definiti manifostissima est : logica enim 
 est ars bene ratiocinandi ; et vicissim, ars bene ratio- 
 cinandi est logica. Atque ad hunc modum omnis de- 
 finitio, ut nonnulli rect^ monuerunt, conversione exa- 
 minandaest: unde Boethius, Top. 5, "omnis definitio 
 rei, quam definit, adaequatur." 
 
 " Definitio est perfecta aut imperfecta: ilia proprie 
 definitio, hoec descriptio dicitur." 
 
 " Definitio perfecta est, quae constat b solis eausis 
 essentiam constituentibus." Rcdundat ergo in dcfi- 
 nitione perfecta quicquid prseterea ponitur. 
 
 " Causoe autem illte genera et forma eomprehen- 
 duntur." 
 
 Genus enim et forma (qute sunt quasi corpus ct 
 anima definitionis) totam rei essentiam constituunt. 
 Non ita tamen necessario requiritur in definitione per- 
 fecta genus, ut perfecta non sit nisi genus habeat : 
 primum enim, summorum generum, ut argumenti in 
 logica inventione, genus nullum est; sed tota eorum 
 essentia sub ipsa forma continetur ; qute etiam mate- 
 riam iisconvenientem eomplectitur ; deinde fieri potest 
 ut ipsce causse facilius occurrant quam earum sjmbo- 
 lum genus. Itaque si ex ipsis eausis definitio constat, 
 perfecta erit ; si ex genere, succinctior tantum. Genus 
 autem proximum, non remotum, in definitione semper 
 est ponendum : qui enim proximum ponit, remotiora 
 etiam posuit : nisi proximum fort^ anonymum sit; 
 tum enim et quotiescunque generis, sive anonymum 
 sit sive non, paulo ante facta mentio est, abesse genus 
 in definitione, et recte subintelligi potest : ut in hac 
 ipsa definitionis definitione, genus remotum, nempe 
 ortum argumentum ; tum etiam proximum, nempe 
 reale et compositum, subintelligitur. Quam autem hie 
 formam in definitione appellamus, plerique diflTeren- 
 tiam vocant. Sed differentia formoe fructus est : et 
 nisi in rerum collatione, quoe in definitione nulla est, 
 
89» 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR IXSTITUTIO, 
 
 non apparet; et fortna ipsa est unde praecipua rerum 
 explicatio sumitur ; pnecipuum ergo in definitione lo- 
 cum habet. 
 
 Atque hoc modo definilur bomo, animal rationale : 
 nempe jjenere, " animal," intelligimus, ut dictum est, 
 essentiam corpoream plenum vitae et sensus, quue ma- 
 teries hominis est, et pars Ibrnue : cui si addas " ra- 
 tionale," totam formam hominis comprehendes, vitie, 
 sensus, rationis facultatc. 
 
 Itaque " perfecta definitio nihil aliud est, quum uni- 
 versale svmbolum causarum essentiara rei et naturam 
 constituentium." 
 
 Tales definitiones sunt artium. Grammatica est ars 
 bene loquendi. Rhetorica bene dicendi. Logicabene 
 ratiocinandi. Arithmetica bene numcrandi. Gcome- 
 tria bene metiendi. Nam genere " ars " intelligimus 
 prfiBceptorum ordine dispositorum comprehensionem, 
 qute materies est cuj usque artis et pars formee, sive 
 forma communis, cui si addas formam cujusque artis 
 propriam (quae fincm quoque sub se comprchendit, ut 
 dictum est cap. 8,) babes totam artis essentiam expli- 
 ratam, quie perfecta definitio est. 
 
 Ad regulas consequentirp quod attinet, nempe a de- 
 finitione ad definitum ; et contra, affirmat6 vel negate; 
 hjec omnia reciprocatio, quse distributionis quoque fuit, 
 satis clare suo loco exposuit. 
 
 CAP. XXXI. 
 
 De Descriptione. 
 
 Defimtionf.s perfectte propter causarum et prae- 
 sertim formarum obscuritatem, difficiles inventu sunt: 
 ad supplcndam igitur earum raritatem, " descriptio " 
 inventa est. 
 
 " Descriptio est definitio imperfecta, ex aliis etiam ar- 
 gumentis rem definicns." Id est, ex quibusvis aliis 
 rem quoquo modo explicans. 
 
 Ubi itaque forma haberi non potest (nam genera fer^ 
 notiora sunt) proprietas loco formae seu differentiae ac- 
 cipienda est: ut, '' angelus est substantia incorporca; 
 equus est animal hinnibile," <Scc. Adjuncta sive acci- 
 dentia, quse vocantur (quia substantice solee, ut inquit 
 Aristot. 1. G, Metapb. c. 5, primario dcfiniuntur, acci- 
 dentia sccundario tantum) propria quidem genere, sub- 
 jecto, causaque proxima vel efliciente, vel finali, vel 
 utraque dcfiniuntur. Genere et subjecto solo ; ut, " si- 
 mitas est curvitas nasi :" subjecto et eflliciente ; ut, 
 "tonitru est sonus fractie nubis, ob ignem oppressuiu ; 
 quantitas continua est adjunctum corporis, ab exten- 
 sione materiae: " finali ; ut, " sensus est facultas natu- 
 ralis in animali, ad jtidicandum de singularibus :" vel 
 utraque ; ut, " respiratio est attractio ct expulsio aeris 
 rcciproca a puliiionibus facta, ad cordis refrigeratio- 
 nero." Omittitur enira sa'pc subjcctum in definitione 
 propriorum, quij>pe quod ex genere vel ex causa intel- 
 ligitur*. ut, " memoria est sensus internus conservans 
 
 imagines rerum cognitarum." Non dicitur " sensus in 
 ternus animalis," addito nempe subjecto, quia id men- 
 tione "sensus" intelligitur. PotcntiiK naturalcs ac- 
 tione sua et causa efliciente dcfiniuntur : ut, " risibilitas 
 est facultas ridendi, orta ab anima rationnli." Habitus 
 vel fine vel objecto qute sacpe coincidunt dcfiniuntur: 
 fine; ut, " Logicaest ars bene ratiocinandi:" objecto; 
 ut, " Physica est scientia rerum naturaliiim." Quali- 
 tates patibiles dcfiniuntur subjecto et efliciente : ut, 
 "color est qualitas corporis mixti, orta ex contempera- 
 tione lucidi et opaci." Actiones fere subjecto efliciente 
 et fine dcfiniuntur. Relationes relatis inter se et fun- 
 damento sive causa : ut, " patcrnitas est relatio patris 
 ad filium, ex procreatione orta." 
 
 Adjuncta communia objecto, efliciente, finali, vel ex 
 his quot sunt ex usu, dcfiniuntur: ut, "albedo est 
 color, ortus ex lucido opacum superante." 
 
 Illud modo gcneratim in dcscriptionibus cavendum, 
 nc causa pro genere habeatur: ut cum dubitatio de- 
 scribitur, sequalitas rationum; sanitas, symmctria humo- 
 rum ; dolor, solutio continui ; eclipsis lunae, interpositio 
 terrae: aut subjectum; ut, ventus est aer motus; jus- 
 titia est voluntas constans ; vulnus est pars carnis dila- 
 cerata; peccatum originis est natura corrupta, et si- 
 milia. 
 
 Ceeterum in his certte regulsc dari non possunt. 
 Aliquando enim ex remoto solum contrario fit de- 
 scriptio: ut, « 
 
 " Virtus est vitium fugere, et sapientia prima 
 Slultitia caruisse." Aliquando plane arbitraria est. 
 
 Hinc etsi unica rei definitio, plures tamen descripti- 
 ones esse possunt. 
 
 Ut autem definitio definito, quod supra monuimus, 
 ita etiam descriptio descripto vicissim argui potest. 
 Veriim non affectio solum htec mutua inter dcscriptio- 
 nem et rem descriptam intercedit, sed etiam reciprocatio ; 
 juxta communem illam distributionis ac definitionis 
 regulam, supra, cap. 25, traditam ; qua descriptio 
 quoque propria rei descriptae et reciproca esse debet. 
 Quamvis enim in dcscriptionibus multa soepe conge- 
 runtur, quorum aliqua forte latius patent, quam id quod 
 describitur,juncta tamcn aequantur descripto descripti- 
 onemque propriam reddunt ; sin minus, vitiosa atque 
 inutilis descriptio censenda est. Ut, " homo est animal 
 mortalc, capax disciplince." Hie cum aliqua causa 
 (materia scilicet et communi forma, quse sub genere 
 " animal" continctur) miscentur duae circumstantite 
 sive adjuncta, altcrum commune, scilicet " mortale," 
 alterum proprium, " capax disciplinre." At quorsum, 
 inquis, illud "mortale," cum nullum animal non sit 
 mortale ? Quia nempe Aristot. cujus htec descriptio est. 
 Top. 5, 1, animalia quicdam ait esse immortalia. Top. 
 4, 2, et in eodem capite, Deum ipsum ^wov a^avarovy 
 i. c. "immortale animal," vocat. 
 
 " Sed h(cc succincta brevitas non est in hac specie 
 pcrpetua; quae saepe illustriorem et copiosiorem expli- 
 cationem desidcrat." 
 
 Succinctse descriptiones, quae perfcctas nemulantur 
 dcfinitioncs, usum habent prascipu^ inartibustradcndi.^ 
 ac disputationibus. Prolixiorcs illu*, utpotc ad aures 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 891 
 
 Tul^i mag^is accommodate, apud oratoresac poetas fre- 
 quentius occiirrunt. 
 
 Sic g^loria describitur in Miloniana : " Sed tamen ex 
 omnibus prtemiis virtiJtis, si esset habenda ratio prae- 
 miorum, amplissimum esse praemiura gloriam : banc 
 unam,qiiaBbrevitatem vitse posteritatis memoria conso- 
 laretur; quae efficeret, ut absentes, adessemus; mortui, 
 viveremus : banc denique esse, cnjus g^radibus etiam 
 homines in coelum videantur ascendere." Descriptio 
 banc gloriiE constat ex genere, " prsemio" nempe "vir- 
 tutis;" adjuncta amplitudine, eaque aucta a minore, 
 quod sit omnium amplissiraa ; quatuor delude effecta 
 ejus adjiciuntur. 
 
 Sic 4 ^neid. fama describitur : 
 
 " Extemplo Lybiae magnas it fama per urbes, 
 Faina, malum quo non aliud velocius uUum ; 
 Mobilitate viget, viresque acquirit eundo," &c. 
 
 Describitur fama, 1. a genere, " malum :" 2. ab ad- 
 juncta velocitate, quae illustratur a raajore neg'ato, 
 " quo non aliud velocius :" turn duplici effecto aliarum 
 rcrum dissimili, quod 
 
 " Mobilitate viget, viresque acquirit eundo." 
 
 3. Ab adjuncta varietate, quae ostenditur ex aliis ad- 
 junctis, quod sit primo " parra," idque arguitur causa, 
 scilicet " metu," et circumstantia temporis, " primo" 
 nempe ; turn subito grandior facta incremento exigui 
 temporis incredibili, idque ostenditur trib. effectis, quae 
 singula stltjectis suis illustrantur, 
 
 " Mox sese attollit in auras : 
 
 Ingrediturque solo, et caput inter nubila condit." 
 
 4. A causa procreante, " illam terra parens," 
 
 mater scilicet gigantnm ; et efficiendi niodo, consilio 
 nempe sive impetu naturali, " ira irritata deorum," qui 
 gigantes occiderant; causa autem procreans communis 
 iilustrata tempore adjuncto, et communi testiraonio, 
 
 " Extremam, ut perhibent, Caeo Enceladoque sororem 
 Progenuit." Rursus illustratam ab adjunctis, 
 
 " Pedibus celerem et pernicibus alis, 
 
 Monstrum horrendum, ingens " 
 
 Deinde a partibus corporis et membris, iisque paribus. 
 
 " Cui quot sunt corpore plumae. 
 
 Tot vigiles oculi subter, mirabile dictu. 
 
 Tot linguae, totidem era sonant, tot subrigit aures." 
 
 Turn ab effectis nocturnis, iisque partim affirmatis 
 quae subjectis locis illustrantur, 
 
 " Nocte volat cceli medio, terraeque per umbrara 
 
 Stridens ;" partim negatis, " nee dulci declinat lumina somno." 
 
 Turn diurnis, eaque illustrantur et subjectis locis, et 
 adjuncto situ sedendi, 
 
 " Luce sedet custos, aut sumrai culmine tecti, 
 Turribus aut altis, et magnas territat urbes." 
 
 Ab adjunctis denique paribus; 
 
 " Tarn ficti pravique tenax quam nuntia veri." 
 
 Tales sunt descriptiones plantarum, animalium in 
 pbysicis; item fluminum, montium, urbium apud Geo- 
 graphos et Historicos ; personarura denique apud poe- 
 tas et oratores. 
 
 CAP. XXXII. 
 
 De Testimonio divino. 
 
 " ExposiTO artiflciali argumento, sequitur inartifi- 
 ciale. 
 
 " Argumentum inartificiale est quod non sua natura, 
 sed assumpta artificialis alicujus argumenti vi arguit. 
 
 " Id uno nomine testimonium dicitur." Nempe, ut 
 inquit Cic. in Top. " quod ab aliqua externa re sunii- 
 tur ad faciendam fidem." 
 
 Inartificiale autem dicitur, non quod artis ope et 
 auxilio non inveniatur (siquidem de co invenicndo, ut 
 inquit Cicero, Partit. in arte prrecipitur) sed quod ex se 
 suaque natura artis hujus et facultatis arguendi expers 
 sit. Potest etiam assumptum dici, quod assumpta vi 
 arguit, non sua. Argumentuni enim inartificiale natu- 
 ram rei non attingit, ncdum arguit, ut artificiale solet, 
 neque rei affectio, sicut artificiale, est; sed est nuda 
 cujuspiam aliqua de re attestatio, sive attestantis afHr- 
 matio aut negatio. Res autem neque propter affirma- 
 tionem sunt, neque propter ucgationcm non sunt: tes- 
 timonium igiturex se suaque natura non arguit; "sed 
 assumpta artificialis alicujus argumenti vi." Vis autem 
 htec est testantis auctoritas, a qua nninis testimonii 
 fides pendet. Auctoritas autem variis in argumentis 
 consistit, sed in effectis testantis et in adjunctis pncci- 
 puc ceniitur. 
 
 " Itaque cum exquisita rerum Veritas" sive natura 
 " subtiliiis exquiritur, perexiguam probatiouis vim tes- 
 timonium babet." 
 
 Hinc Cic. 1 de Nat " Non tam auctores," inquit, 
 " in disputandu, quam rationum momenta quaerenda 
 sunt." 
 
 " In civilibus autem et bumanis rebus," ubi de facto 
 queritur, " plerumque hoc argumentum prsecipuara 
 fidem e moribus arguentis eflficit, si prudeutia, probitas, 
 et benevolentia aflTuerint." 
 
 Horum unum aliquod si deest, vel per imprudentiam 
 testis, vel propter iniprobitatem, vel inimicitiarum de- 
 nique aut nimipe gratise causa, falsuni ssepe pro testi- 
 raonio dicitur. 
 
 Testimonium est divinum vel bumanum. 
 
 Et recte quidem in species efficientibus suis causis 
 distinctas dividitur. Ab efficientibus enim maxime tes- 
 timonium suas vires assumit. Effectum itaque est, si 
 ad testem spectas; testimonium, si ad rem tcstatam. 
 Perexiguam autem vim probationis in exquisita veri- 
 tate et natura rerum pervestiganda comniuniter tribui 
 testimonio quod tam ad divinum quam ad bumanum 
 pertinere videatur, id cur quempiam offendat, non video : 
 testimonium enim sive divinum sit sive bumanum, per- 
 aeque vim oninem ab autbore, nullam in se habet. Et 
 
892 
 
 ARTIS LOGICiE PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 (liTinum quidem testimonium affirmat vel negut rem ita 
 esse, facitquc ut cri-dam ; non probat, noii docet, non 
 facit ut sciam aut iiitelligam cur ita sit, nisi rationes 
 quoquc adhibeat. 
 
 Testimonium divinum est quod Deum babet autbo- 
 rem. 
 
 In divinis testimoniis numerantur non solum deorum 
 oraciila, sed etiam respousa vatum et fatidicorura. 
 
 Vera hive sint an ficta, veri numinis an falsi, logicus 
 non laborat, scd quam roodo vim arg^uendi unumquod- 
 que habeat. Itaque in civilib. etiam et bumanis rebus 
 testimonium divinum perinde vim probationis babet, ut 
 ejus autbor verus est aut falsus deus. 
 
 Ilujusmodi sunt ista Catilin. 3, " Nam ut ilia omittam, 
 visas nucturno tempore ab occidente faces, ardoremque 
 coeli ; ut fulminum jactus, ut terrse motus, caeteraque, 
 qute ita multa, nobis consulibus, facta sunt, ut beec, quae 
 nunc fiunt, canere dii immortales viderentur." 
 
 CAP. XXXIII. 
 
 De Testimonio humano. 
 
 Testimonium humanum est, quod authorem babet 
 faominem. 
 
 " Estque commune aut proprium." 
 
 Distributio baec proponitur, non ut accurata aliqua 
 divisio (neque enim testimonio propria est) sed ut dis- 
 tinctio qualiscunque subalternarum specierum, ad quas 
 inferiores species testimonii et exenipla possint revocari. 
 Atque, ut superior ilia distinctio in divinum et huma- 
 num, ab efficiente quoque sumitur, qui fit persona pub- 
 lica sive communis, aut propria sive privata. 
 
 " Testimonium commune est, ut lex et illustris sen- 
 tentia." 
 
 Haec enim duo exempla sunt potius quam species; 
 quibus adjiinffi potest fama; quam Cic. in Top. quod- 
 dam multitudinis testimonium appellat; alii, consen- 
 sum civitatis et publicum testimonium vocant. 
 
 " Leg'is autem et non scriptac et scriptae testimonium 
 estproMilone: Estenim,judices, non scripta, sed nata 
 lex; quam non didicimus, accepimus, legimus ; veriim 
 ex natura ipsa arripuimus, bausimus, expressimus: ad 
 quam non docti, sed facti ; non instituti, sed imbuti 
 sumus : ut, si vita nostra in aliquas insidias, si in vim, 
 in tela, aut latronum aut inimicorum incidisset, omnis 
 bonesta ratio esset expediendee salutis." Et ibidem, 
 "Quod si duodecim tabulae noctumum furem quoquo 
 modo, diumum autem, si se tclo defenderit, interfici 
 impune voluerunt, quis est, qui," &c. 
 
 Restat illustris sententia; cujus generis sunt pro- 
 verbia. Ut pares cum paribus facillime congregantur. 
 Spartam nactus es, banc exorna. Tum dicta sapien- 
 tum : ut, nosce teipsum. Ne quid nimis. Sponde, 
 pntsto est detrimentum. Quanquara enim base dicta 
 singula a singulis fortasse auctoribus orta sunt, tamen 
 quia omnium in ore versantur, quasi omnium fiunt, et 
 ad commune testimonium rect^ referuntur. 
 
 Proprium testimonium est : ut Platonis illud, 1 ad 
 Q. fratrem : " Atque ille quidem princeps ingenii et 
 doctrinee, Plato, tum deniquc fore beatas respub. puta- 
 vit, si aut docti et sapicntes homines eas regere C(i'- 
 pissent, aut qui regererit, omne suum studium in 
 doctrina ac sapientia collocassent." 
 
 Talia sunt in poetis. iEneid. 6. 
 
 " Discite justitiam, moniti ; et non temnere dives." 
 Sic Homericis illis versibus : 
 
 Ata£ S tK laXanivog dyiv ivoKaiiita vijaQ. 
 J^TTJat 2' dyuv Iv' Ait]vaiu)v Ituvto <pd\ayyic. 
 
 Ajax autem ex Salami ne duxit duodecim naves. 
 
 Constituit vero ducens, ubi Atheniensium stabant phalanges. 
 
 Victi sunt in judicio Megarenses, quo contenderunt 
 cum Atheniensibus de Salamine insula, utrique forte 
 civitati sequ^ viciua. 
 
 Atque hfiec veterum fuere et absentium testimonia, et 
 fere mortuorura ; quae de jure potissimum afferuntur. 
 
 Viventium et praeseutium, quae de facto plerunque 
 testantur, non tantum sunt "cum quaeritur de fundo 
 aut caede et ejusmodi negotio aliquo, sed etiam obliga- 
 tionis, confessionis, jurisjurandi testimonia sunt." 
 
 Obligationis exemplura est Philipp. 5, "Promitto, 
 recipio, spondeo, P. C. Caesarem talem semper fore 
 civem, qualis hodie sit, qualemque eum maxime velle 
 et optare debemus." 
 
 Pignus etiam obligatio quaedam est. 
 
 Ut apud Virgil. Eel. 3. 
 
 "Vis ergo inter nos quid possit uterque vicissira 
 Expcfiamur ? Ego banc vitulam (ne forte recuses. 
 Bis venit ad mulctram, bines alit ubere foetus) 
 Depone : tu die, mecum quo pignore certes." 
 
 " Confessio est vel libera, in qua cujusvis testimo- 
 nium pro se Icvissimum contra se gravissimum cense- 
 tur. Vel est expressa tormeutis, quae proprie quaestio 
 dicitur." 
 
 Tale fuit argumentum contra Milonem, quod a Cice- 
 rone deridctur: quia cruciatus non stepius veritatem 
 quam mendacium exprimit atque extorquet. " Age 
 vero, quae erat aut qualis quaestio: heus, ubi Ruscio .■* 
 ubi Casca.** Clodius insidias fecit Miloni? Fecit; certa 
 crux. NuUas fecit. Sperata libertas." 
 
 Hue etiam referri potest argumentum, quo utimur 
 cum affirmationis nostree a})probationem et experien- 
 tiam advcrsario proponimus. 
 
 Verr. 4. " Ecquis Volcalio, si sua spontc venisset, 
 unam libellam dedisset? veniatnunc, experiatur; tecto 
 recipiet nemo." 
 
 Terent, Eunucb. 
 
 " Fac periculum in literis. 
 
 Fac in palaestra, in musicis ; quae liberum 
 Scire aequum est adolescentem, solertem dabo." 
 
 Ovid. 3 Trist. 
 
 " Quod magis ut liqueat, neve hoc ego fingere credar. 
 Ipso velim poenas experiare rneas." 
 
 Jusjurandum etiam testimonium est. 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 893 
 
 Quale est iEneid. 9. 
 
 " Per superos, et siqua fides tellure sub ima est, 
 Invitus, regina, tuo de littore cessi." 
 
 Quamvis autem in juramentis divinum quodammo- 
 do testimonium invocetur, juramenti tamen fides autho- 
 ritate et moribus jurantis nititur. 
 
 Reciprocatio hie obscurior est ad rem testatam, quod 
 est hie alterum arg'umentum affectum ; ut quia testa- 
 tum verum sit, testis sit etiam veiax. 
 
 Ut autem non sua vi testimonium, sed auctoritas tes- 
 tis arguit rem testatam ; ita vicissim res testata non 
 arguit ipsum testimonium, sed authoritatem testis. 
 
 ARTIS LOGIC.E PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, &c. 
 
 LIBER SECUNDUS. 
 
 DE ARGUMENTORUM DISPOSITIONE. 
 
 CAP. I. 
 
 ilin P 
 
 Quid sit argumeiitorum dispositio 
 
 Adhuc prima artis logicae pars fuit in argumentorum 
 inventione : pars altera seqnitur in eorum dispositione. 
 
 Quemadmodum grammaticae pars prima est de sin- 
 gulis vocihus, secunda de syntaxi earum ; sic logica; 
 pars prima de argumentis inveniendis fuit, secunda est 
 de disponendis, i. c. quae doceat argumenta recte dispo- 
 nere: ita dispositio quasi syntaxis quaedam argumen- 
 torum est ; non tamen ad bene judicandum duntaxal, 
 ut vult Ramus, quod nimis angustum est, sed ad bene 
 ratiocinandum, qui finis est logicoc generalis, ad quem 
 unum finem omnia artis prtecepta referenda sunt. lis 
 itaque non assentior, qui judicium secundam esse par- 
 tem logics; volant: ciim ipsorum sententia judicium 
 sit secundte hujus partis nenipe dispositionis finis et 
 fructus: non potest autem res eadem esse finis et id cujus 
 est finis, fructus quod affectum est et ejus fructus causa, 
 quae dispositio est. An inquiunt, judicium ut doctrina est 
 parslogicce; finisestut habitus bene judicandi. Imnio 
 vero inquam, dispositionis doctrina suam operam con- 
 fert non solum ad bene judicandum, sed ad bene ratio- 
 cinandum; judicium autem et dispositionem proeodem 
 non dixerim cum Ramo: si enim certa, ut ipse Ramus 
 ait, dispositionis regula unumquodquejudicatur, dispo- 
 sitio utique ac judicium si idem erunt, idem erit et 
 regula, et id cujus regula est : doctrina deinde judicii 
 docet nihil aliud quam bene judicare ; doctrina dispo- 
 sitionis pro sua disponendi parte, etiam bene ratiocinari : 
 sive id sit intelligere, sive judicare, sive disputare, sive 
 meminisse. Certa enim dispositionis regula unum- 
 quodque munus ratiocinandi excolitur. 
 
 Cum itaque simplicem argumentorum inter se affec- 
 tionem aliquid per se conferre ad judicium rectumque 
 ratiocinium initio proposuerim, nunc eorum dispositio- 
 nem aliquanto plus, adeoque clarius ad idem conducere 
 propono. 
 
 Prius autem quam ad partes dispositionis accedimus, 
 generalis quaedam dispositionis affectio, quae crypsis 
 dicitur, attingenda est ; ut quee ad omnes species dispo- 
 sitionis communiter pertineat. Crypsis autem, sive oc- 
 cultatio ista, est triplex ; dispositarum scilicet partium 
 vel defectus, vel redundantia, vel inversio. Quod 
 itaque semel hie monendum est, siqua propter has 
 crypses dubitatio contingit, explenda quae desunt, am- 
 putanda quae supersunt, et pars quasque iu suum resti- 
 tuenda est locum. 
 
 CAP. II. 
 
 De Axiomatis affirmatione et negatione. 
 
 " Dispositio est axiomatica vel dianoetica. 
 
 " Axioma est dispositio argumenti cum argumento, 
 qua esse aliquid aut non esse indicatur." 
 
 Axioma saepe Aristoteli significat propositionem sive 
 sententiam ita claram, ut quasi dignasitcui propter se 
 fides habeatur. Alias axioma et propositionem sive 
 sententiam quamlibet pro eodem is habet : et recte 
 quidem : ut enim sententia a sentio, i. e. existimo vel 
 arbitror, ita axioma k verbo Grecco quod idem signifi- 
 cat, derivatur. Atque hujus vocis generalem banc sig- 
 nificationem apud veteres dialecticos receptam fuisse, 
 ex Cicerone, Plutarcho, Laertio, Gellio, Galeno lib. 16, 
 c. 8, constat. 
 
 Latine " enuntiatum, enuntiatio ; pronuntiatum, pro- 
 nuntiatio; effatum" Varroni profatum, et proloquium, 
 apud Gellium lib. 16, id est sententia in qua nihil de- 
 sideratur. Ex Groeco etiam " oratio" et " propositio" 
 dicitur. 
 
 Cur ergo, inquis, Graecanica, et hsec prae aliis, vox 
 placita est ? Quia, inquam, commodissima. Nam 
 " oratio" et " sententia " voces latiores sunt; ideoque 
 Grseci qui \6yov sive " rationem" vocant, adduut fere 
 
894 
 
 ARTIS LOGICiE PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 " pritnam, brevissimam" aut " enuntiativain." Deinde 
 " propositio " ambig'iia vox est; sig-nificat enini nunc 
 priorem partem plenap coniparationis, nunc priniani 
 partem syilogismi. Latina autem ilia, " enuntiatiim, 
 enuutiatio," &c., orationis exterioris videntiir matfis 
 quam rationis interioris esse : cum dispositio heec log-ica 
 rationis omnino sittam mente conceptoe quam ore pro- 
 lalae ; utque voces symbola sunt et notte simpliciuni 
 notionum, ita enuntiatum videtur esse symbolum axio- 
 matis mente concepti. Sic tamen retineri possunt voces 
 Latiuee " enuntiatum, enuntiatio,"&c., si distinguimus 
 cum Aristotele sermonem in extcriorem, qui ore profer- 
 tur; et interiorem qui mente solum concipitur. 
 
 Genus autem axiomatis recte statuitur dispositio, non 
 judicium, quod, ut supra retuli, dispositionis effectum 
 est, et bic quidem specialiter quo aliquid esse aut non 
 esse judicantur. 
 
 Argumentum autem cum arg-umento est id quod 
 arg'uit cum eo quod arguitur. 
 
 Finis dispositionis est, ut per earn esse aliquid aut non 
 esseindicetur, sive ut aliquid dealiquo dicatur aut non 
 dicatur. Hinc illud Arist. Phil. ^. 10, " esse est com- 
 poni, et unum esse ; non esse autem est non componi, 
 sed plura esse." Et simplicia quidem argumenta per 
 se considerata significant aliquid ; non autem esse, aut 
 non esse aliquid, nisi disposita. Solo autem modo in- 
 dicativo esse aliquid aut non esse indicatur : non reli- 
 quis. nisi ad indicativum reductis : ut " abi," i. e. jubeo 
 te abire. " Fiat voluntas tua," i. e. precamur ut fiat. 
 " Utinam dissolverer," i. e. cupio dissolvi. " Quid est 
 dialectica," i. e. quaero quid sit. 
 
 Cum autem in axiomate argumentum cum argumento 
 disponatur, faorumque unum necesse sit antecedere, al- 
 terum sequi ; hinc partes axiomatis (Aristot. terminos 
 vocat) duoB sunt, antecedens et consequens: ilia vulgo 
 minor terminus, sive subjectum, ha;c terminus major seu 
 prafdicatum nominator; quia id continet, quod de sub- 
 jecto praedicatur sive dicitur. Verum hsec nomina 
 augustiora sunt, quam ilia, ut infra patebit. 
 
 Axiomatis affectio communis est crypsis ilia triplex, 
 de qua deque ejus triplici niedela capite superiore dixi- 
 mus: defcclus, cum pars aliqua deest ; ut, "excessit, 
 erupit, evasit;" Catilina scilicet vel quis alius : " pluit, 
 tonat;" deus nempe vel ccelum. Redundantia, quae 
 et amplificatio dicitur, est, ciim argumentum ejusque 
 63'nonymum ponitur; aut ad id iliustrandum quidvis 
 aliud : prions excmplum est, logica sive dialectica est 
 " ars bene ratiocinandi : " posterioris est hoc, 
 
 Livor iners vitium mores non exit in altos. 
 
 Inversio est, cum antecedentis loco ponitur conse- 
 quens: nt " qutestus magnus est pietas cum animosua 
 sorte contento," i. e. pietas cum animo sua sorte con- 
 tentu est magnus queestus. 
 
 Duae sunt reliqute axiomatis aflTectiones; quarum 
 altera ex dispositione oritur, altera ad judicium per- 
 tinet. Nam intellectus cum disponit argumenta, vel 
 componit ea inter se, vel dividit : compositio autem 
 ilia et divisio nihil aliud sunt qukni alhrmatio et nega- 
 lio. Cum vero de dispositione ilia judicium fert, ju- 
 dicat eani vel vcram esse vel falsam. Qucniadmodum 
 
 autem dispositio est prior judicio, sic esse et non esse 
 prius quiddam est et siniplicius quum affirmare et ne- 
 gare, ct utrumque hoc quam verum aut falsum judi- 
 care. 
 
 " Axioma igitur est affirniatum aut negatum." 
 
 Duplex est hie modus enuntiandi, non duee sunt 
 species enuntiati sive axiomatis : contradictione cnini 
 idem axioma affirmatur et negatur : sed afiirniatio ct 
 ncgatio enuntiationis, i. e. enuntiandi species sunt, non 
 enuntiati ; nam et ailirmatio et negatio dici potest 
 enuntiatio, enuntiatum vero nequaquam ; axiomatis 
 igitur utraque est affectio, non axioma. 
 
 " Axioma affirmatum est quando vinculum ejus 
 affirmatur: negatum, quando negatur." Vinculum n. 
 axiomatis forma est ; vinculi vi axiomatis materia dis- 
 ponitur et quasi animatur ; vinculo affirmato et negato, 
 axioma ipsum affirmatur aut negatur: affirmatio itaque 
 et negatio sunt vinculi afTectiones, adeoque axiomatis 
 ejusque specierum. Vinculum autem est vel verbum 
 vel gramraatica conjunctio, utpostmodum patebit, cum 
 axioma in species dividetur. 
 
 Affirmatio autem hoec et negatio nihil aliud est, ut 
 supra diximus, quam compositio et divisio: affirmatur 
 enim axioma, cum ejus consequens per affirmationem 
 vinculi cum antecedente componitur; negatur, cum, 
 negato vinculo, consequens ab antecedente dividitur. 
 Negatio igitur axiomatica non est, quemadniodum erat 
 topica non ens, sed entis tantummodo ab ente divisio. 
 
 " Hinc nascitur axiomatum contradictio, quando 
 idem axioma affirmatur et negatur." 
 
 CAP. III. 
 
 De vero ct falso. 
 
 "Axioma deinde est verum aut falsum." 
 
 Hoc scilicet ex affirmatione et uegatione fit judi- 
 cium : cum enim affirniantur qute affirmanda sunt, et 
 negantur quae neganda, axiomata judicantur vera; et 
 contra. Unde Aristot.de Interpret. 1, " in composi- 
 tione et divisione est verum aut falsum." Falsum au- 
 tem non docetur hoc modo in arte, sed judicatur : nam 
 enuntiatio falsa non minus axioma est, quam vera, 
 eadem enim utrobique dispositio est : non idem de syl- 
 logism© ac methodo dici poterit. 
 
 " Axioma verum est, quando pronuntiat uti res est : 
 falsum, contra." 
 
 Sic enim Plato, in Cratylo. Ad judicium itaque 
 faciendum, non modo artis documenta, sed etiam re- 
 rum ipsarum cognitio requiritur; quia res ipsa veri- 
 tatis norma etmensura est. 
 
 " Axioma verum est contingcns aut necessariura. 
 Contingens, quando sic verum est, ut aliquando falsum 
 esse possit. Ut, ' audentes fortuna juvat.' 
 
 " Itaque veritatis hujus contingentis judicium, opinio 
 dicitur." Quie prieteritorum et prcscntium homini certa 
 esse ]K)test, futurorum per naturam non admodum po- 
 test. Deo autem ctsi tempora omnia pnrsentia non 
 sunt, ut vu1g6 rcceptum est, praescntia enim mutare 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 895 
 
 ] otcst, pra-terita non item; opinio tamen in Deum non 
 radit, quia per causas teque omnia cog'noscit. 
 
 I)e conting-entibus autem, prap.teritis etiam, et prae- 
 .tibus hunianum judicium ceita quidem opinio dici- 
 iiii, non tamen sciential ea enim ex argumentis, quo- 
 nini est ininiutabilis afFectio, oritur ; cujusmodi in con- 
 ting'enti axiomate non disponuntur. Neque idcirco 
 non est opinio pnetcritorum et proesentium, quod mani- 
 festa sunt, immo turn maxime opinari contingentia di- 
 cimur ; nam dubia si sunt, sive continoentia sive neces- 
 saria, ne opinamur quidem, sed dubitamus : et neces- 
 sariatamctsi sunt atquccertissima, si causam nesciinus, 
 etiam ea duntaxat opinamur. 
 
 At, inquies, praeterita et prcesentia non sunt contin- 
 gentia, sed necessaria, quia sunt immutabilia ; nam 
 neque factum infcctum fieri potest; et quicquid est, 
 quandiu est, necesse est esse. Respondendum, necesse 
 quidem esse, ut quod fuit, fiierit, et quod jam est, sit; 
 nee tamen scqui, ut quod fuit vel est, sit propria neces- 
 sarium. In axiomate enim contingenli, proeterito, rel 
 prcesenti qu«e videtur esse necessitas, absoluta non est, 
 neque ex rerum dispositarum natura, sed ex conditione 
 duntaxat et lege contradictionis pendet : dum enim 
 aliquid est, non esse non potest; neque duiu verum est, 
 esse falsum : et tamen quod nunc verum est, fieri po- 
 test ut aliquando salsum fucrit, aut futurum sit. Idem 
 do futuris dicendum ; siquid futurum certo est, id ne- 
 cesse est fore quidem verum (omne n. axioma verum 
 est aut falsum) non tamen neccssarium. Id nisi tenea- 
 tur, omne contingcns futurum erit necessarium, quod 
 implicat contradictionem. Hoc etiam monenduni, fu- 
 tura quidem ipsa neque vera esse neque falsa, neque 
 contingentia, neque necessaria, nondum n. sunt, sed 
 affirmatio soliim do iis aut negatio in futurum, deque 
 prteteritis codem modo sentiendum. 
 
 " Axioma est necessarium, quando semper verum est, 
 nee falsum potest esse." 
 
 Nee supervacua posterior ha?c clausula est : semper 
 n. esse verum etiam contingens potest, necessarium 
 autem non modo semper est verum, sed falsum esse non 
 potest. Sic etiam Aristot. Post. 1, 26. 
 
 " Contra, quod semper falsum est, nee verum potest 
 esse, axioma impossibile dicitur." Sic etiam Aristot. 
 Pbil. 5. 12. 
 
 Haec autem immutabilitas veritatis in necessario, et 
 falsitatis in impossibili, ab argumentorum quae in iis 
 disponuntur vel summa consensione, vel infcsta semper 
 dissensione pendet. Pari ratione mutabilitas veri aut 
 falsi in contingenti et possibili ex levi argumentorum 
 in iis dispositorum consensione aut dissidio perspicitur. 
 Ex quo doctrina ilia quatuor formularum modalium, 
 " necesse est, impossibile est, possibile est, contingens 
 est," qukm inutiliter ab Aristot. introducta sit, facile 
 apparet : ut, " necesse est hominem esse animal ; im- 
 possibile est hominem esse equum; possibile est So- 
 cratem esse divitem ; contingens est Socratem esse 
 doctum." Hse quatuor modales dispositionem pura- 
 rum enuntiationum quodammodo afficiunt: pura est, 
 *' omnis homo est animal ; modalis, " necesse est om- 
 nem hominem esse animal : " hie " omnem hominem 
 esse animal," licet inverso ordine, subjectum est enun- 
 
 tiationis modalis, modus " necesse" est prasdicatum. 
 Verum quid attinet quomodo partes axiomatis inter se 
 affectfE sint, signis aut niodis exprimcre, ciim id ex 
 argumentis ipsis in eo dispositis possit rectius judicari, 
 et ad hos modos alii complures, " facile, difficile, ho- 
 ncstum, turpe," &c. non inulilias possint adjungi.' 
 
 Equidem secundarias, quas vocant modales, prima- 
 riis hisce potiores existimem : quibus vulgo dividuntur 
 enuntiationes in " exclusivas," quarum nottc sunt " so- 
 lus, tantum, duntaxat," &c., ut, " sola fides justificat: 
 exceptivas," quarum notte sunt " printer, pincterquam, 
 nisi," &c., ut, " nemo praeter te sapit : et restrictivas," 
 quarum notae sunt " qua, quatenus, quoad, secundum, 
 quid," &c., ut, " homo qua animal, sentit." Et exclusiva 
 quidem est vel subjecti vel prtedicati : subjccti, qure, 
 nota exclusiva proeposita, excludit omnia subjecta alia a 
 prsedicato. Sed frustra banc regulam ratio dictarit, si lo- 
 gicis quibusdam modernis, et nominatim Keckermanuo 
 licebit, eam statim, conflato ad id ipsum canone, fun- 
 ditus evertere. " Exclusiva," inquit, " subjecti non 
 excludit concomitantia: ut, solus pater est verus Deus. 
 Hie," inquit, " non excluditur concomitans, filius, et 
 spiritus sanctus." At quis non videt subornatum hunc 
 canonem, ad locum ilium luculcutissinium Joan. 17,3, 
 ludificaudum ? Haud paulo utilior est canon ille re- 
 strictivDB enuntiationis, quem tradit 1. 2, c. 4, (restrictiva 
 autem est quce ostendit quatenus subjectum praedicato 
 convenit) " pnedicatum," inquit, " contradictorium 
 nulla limitatioiie subjecto conciliatur ;" ex Aristot. 2 
 Top. c. ult. sect. 4. Quid evidentius dici potuit .'' et 
 tamen reperti sunt qui interpositis quibusdam distinc- 
 tiunculis, " accideus posse existere sine subjecto " 
 (quod repugnat) " in csena Domini" contendant: de- 
 inde, qui similib. confictis distinctiunculis, "humanam 
 naturam Christi adeoque corpus infinitum esse" dispu- 
 tantes, parem contradictionem committant. Sed omis- 
 sis theologorum paradoxis, ad pra-cepta logica redea- 
 mus. 
 
 " Axioma necessarium affirmatum appellatur kotA 
 navTOQ, de omni." 
 
 Id est, cum consequens sive pra'dicatum, ut vocant, 
 axiomatis, de omni et toto antecedente sive subjecto 
 semper verum est. Sic etiam Aristot. 1, prior. 1, et 
 post. 1, 4, et hoc etiam nonnunquam icadoXii, i. e. de 
 toto, vocat, Post. 2, 13. 
 
 " Axiomata artium sic Kara iravroQ esse debent." 
 Nempe de omni et de toto vera, non falsa ; necessa- 
 ria, non fortuita, alioqui non scientiam pariunt, sed 
 opinionem; affirmata denique non negata: affirmatum 
 enim est firmum, certum, brevissimum; negatum vero 
 est vagum, incertum, infinitum, nihilque docet: ut si 
 quis definiret logicam, non esse artem bene loquendi, 
 non doceret quid logica sit, sed quid non sit; eaque 
 definitio omnibus artibus praRter grammaticam aeque 
 ac logicae conveniret. Nonnulli addunt ex hac lege, 
 axiomata artium debere etiam esse generalia. Veriim 
 haec regula non tantum de omni est, sed de toto : et 
 multa in artibus praecepta specialibus de rebus occur- 
 runt, ut in theologia, de Christo ; in astronomia de 
 sole et luna leliquisque planetis: in alils artibus hujus- 
 modi alia, in quibus, cum sint specialia, etsi Kara ttuv- 
 
896 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 rdc dici noD possunt, KadSKs tamen possunt, quod satis 
 est. Quod si quis nbjicit, ne in generalibus quidera 
 pnecepta artium Kara iravroc esse posse, propter excep- 
 tionuni multitudinem, ut in gramraatica videre est ; 
 respondendum est, anomalium analogise conjunctam, 
 Kard iravrbi instar esse. 
 
 " Scd pnecepta artium bomogenea etiam et reciproca 
 esse debent. 
 
 " Axioroa homogeneum est, quando partes sunt es- 
 sentiales inter se." 
 
 i. e. Vel absolute, ut forma formato, genus speciei, 
 membra integro, definitio definito ; vel modo quodam, 
 ut subjectum proprio adjuncto. 
 
 " Id appellatur raS' airrb, per se." 
 
 Idcirco etiam partes axiomatis essentiales inter se 
 esse debent, ut pneceptum artis esse scientificum possit : 
 accidentis enim, ut testatur Aristoteles, nulla est scien- 
 tia ; nulla nisi per essentiam et causam : idem, rd k«3' 
 enrr6, et ri vvfi^ffitiKOTa, i. e. accidentia, opponit, Post. 
 1, 4. Itaque non satis est, partes esse inter se consen- 
 taneas, sed essentiales : quod cum ex arguraentorum 
 inter se summa consensione oriatur, ex quanecessarium 
 quoque axioma esse ortum supradiximus, non video 
 quid per banc regulam ica^' avTo ad superiorem illam 
 /card iravTOQ quod magni sit momenti, accedat ; cum 
 nullum axioma necessarium esse queat, quin ejus 
 partes inter se sint etiam essentiales. Ncque vero 
 putera hie praecipi, ne quid heterogeneum sive alienum 
 in arte doceatur ; neque enim hue pertinet disposilio 
 pnecepti cum prajcepto, sed argumenti solum cum ar- 
 gumento, quas axiomatis doctrina est, et ex homogenei 
 definitione ipsa ejusque exemplis perspicitur. 
 
 " Axioma reciprocum est, quando consequens semper 
 Tcrum est de antecedente, non solum omni et per se, 
 sed etiam reciproc^." 
 
 Ut homo est animal rationale : numerus est par 
 vel impar. Lupus est natus ad ululandum. Id ap- 
 pellatur ko&oXb jrpwroi/, de toto primum. Nempe quia 
 de nullo prius dicitur : ideoque proximum est et 
 immediatura, proprium et aequale ; unoque verbo, 
 reciprocum : ut risibile de homine : omnis enim 
 homo est risibilis ; et reciproce, omne risibile est 
 homo. Hoec regula nisi observetur, vitari tautologia in 
 artibus non potest. Tum enim non reciprocatur axio- 
 ma, cum antccedens consequenti non est aequale, aut 
 contra ; sed vel speciale alicui generi, vel generale ali- 
 cui speciei attribuitur : generale autem de specie non 
 dicitur primo ; prius enim dicitur de genere. Cum 
 autem id quod generis est, speciei attribuitur, idem in 
 reliquis speciebus necessario est repetendum, quod in 
 genere semel dictum oportuit. Ad banc itaque regu- 
 lam pertinet pneceptum artis illud nobile yivuca ytrtctJc, 
 " gcneralia generaliter" et semel docenda sunt. Hdbc 
 lex brevitati, brevitas autem intelligentiae et memorise 
 consulit. 
 
 Atque hae tres sunt leges documentorum artium pro- 
 priorum. Prima rard iravrbc, lex veritatis; propterea 
 quod nccessariam affirmati axiomatis veritatem ex con- 
 sentanea partium afTcctionc postulat. Sccunda ra^' 
 ahrb, Icx justitiae ; quia justitiam requirit in essential! 
 partium cognatione. Peccant ergo in haiic legem, qui 
 
 rhetoricam in inventionem, dispcsitionem, merooriam, 
 &c., distribuunt, cum rhetorical partes attribuant, quau 
 dialecticae proprioe sunt. Terlia ko^oXov wpwrov lex sa- 
 pientise merito dici possit ; ciim quia ejus judicium 
 verissima scientia est, ut postea dicetur, tum quia vitia 
 sapicntiae contraria prohibet, insqualitatem sivc incon- 
 venicntiam antecedentis ciim consequente et tautolo- 
 giam. 
 
 Dices, duas illas priores leges comprehendi sub hac 
 tertia: et hoc fatendum quidem est: veruntamen ut 
 trigonum tetragonus et tetragonum pentagonus com- 
 prehendit, neque idcirco tamen distinctae figuroe non 
 sunt; ita hae leges etiamsi posterior quaequce priorum 
 comprehendit, erant tamen perspicuitatis causa distin- 
 guendae. 
 
 " Atque hujusmodi axiomatum ita reciprocorum ju- 
 dicium verissima et prima scientia est." Prima, quia 
 principiorum est, quae per se indemonstrabilia, suaque 
 luce manifestissima sunt, neque syllogismi aut ullius 
 argumenti clarioris lucem ad scientiam faciendani desi- 
 derant : quce inde verissima quoque sit uecesse est. 
 
 CAP. IV. 
 
 De Axiomate simplici. 
 
 " Atque hcec de communibus axiomatis affectioni- 
 bus; species sequuntur. 
 
 "'Axioma est simplex aut compositum." 
 Sic etiam Aristot. de Interpret. 1, 5. Vulgo propo- 
 sitio dividitur in categoricam et hypotheticam, eodem 
 sensu. Sed categorica afSrmatam duntaxat proposi- 
 tionem simplicem comprehendit, quiE scilicet de sub- 
 jecto KaTTiyoptTrai, i. e. prsedicatur. 
 
 "Axioma simplex est, quod verbi vinculo continetur." 
 Cum enim vinculum, ut supradiximus, axiomatis 
 forma et quasi anima sit, hinc efficitur, quemadmodum 
 duae sunt species vinculorum, verbum et conjunctio, 
 illud simplicis axiomatis, hoc compositi, ut axioma quo- 
 que ex ista distributione vinculi, iu oppositas formas 
 sive species dividatur. Vinculum autem simplicis axio- 
 matis, non solum est verbum substantivum, quod dici- 
 tur, sed quodvis verbum actionem aut passionem signi- 
 ficans, vinculi in se vim inclusam habet; et vol totum 
 consequens vel pars consequentis est; ut, Socrates scri- 
 bit. Nam quod nonnulli putant, verbum omne in sub- 
 stantivum et participium resolvi oportere, utea ratione 
 verbum substantivum esse vinculum appareat, scilicet, 
 Socrates est scribens; id socpe ineptissimum esse repe- 
 rietur. Ut siquis hoc, Socrates docetur, sic solvat, So- 
 crates est doctus: hoc enim aliud longe est. Quidquod 
 etiam verbum substantivum nonnunquam et vinculum 
 et totum consequens includit; ut, Socrates est; mortui 
 non sunt, i. e. non existunt. Quodsi in uno simplici 
 axiomate plura verba occurrunt, ut, imparia sunt com- 
 parata, quorum quantitas non est una, sciendum est 
 illud verbum axiomatis vinculum esse, quod gramma- 
 tici vocaut principalc. 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 897 
 
 " Id si afiSrmatur, axioma simplex est affirraatum ; 
 si negatur, negatum." 
 
 Negatur autem, si negationis nota verbum illud prte- 
 cedit : nam si sequitur, negatum non est, sed affirma- 
 trnn : ut Socrates est leo, non neccssario affirmatum 
 est, quia negationis nota sequitur verbum; ncc totum 
 consequens negatur, sed modus. 
 
 Negationis autem nolae non solum sunt adverbia 
 negandi, sed etiam particulae exclusivae (cujusmodi 
 sunt " unicus et solus ") at verba dissensionem vel 
 differentiam significantia; ut, " differre, opponi," &c. 
 
 Exempla nunc videamus. Ignis urit ; ignis est ca- 
 lidus; ignis est non aqua. Hie " ignis" est antece- 
 dens, " urit" consequens. 
 
 " Atque hie est prima inveutarum rerum dispositio, 
 causee cum afTccto, ut in prime exemplo ; subjecti cum 
 adjuncto, ut in sccundo; dissentanei, cum dissentaneo, 
 ut in tcrtio. 
 
 " Quo modo argumenta qutelibet inter se affccta 
 enuntiari possunt, consentanea quidem affirmando, 
 dissentanea negando." Exceptis plenis comparatio- 
 nibus, in quibus duo plane distincta axiomata sunt, 
 propositio, et redditio. Nam distributiones, quas etiam 
 e.xcipit Ramus, ut, argumentum est artificiale aut in- 
 artificiale, axiomate simpiici enuntiari possunt, ut in- 
 fra docebitur : possunt et divcrsa, quae excipiunt alii, 
 si sic enuntias, aliquis facundus non est formosus: et 
 contraria : ut, virtus non est vitium, &c. 
 
 " Axioma simplex est generale aut speciale." 
 
 Haec distributio est simplicis axiomatis ex adjuncta 
 quantitatc, quae modos, non species constituit. In 
 axidinate autem composite, quantitatis nulla ratio ha- 
 betur, sed tantum vinculi, ut infra dicemus. 
 
 " Axioma generale est, quando commune conse- 
 quens attribnitur generaliter communi antecedent!." 
 
 Vulgo etiam vocatur " universale." Generaliter 
 autem consequens antecedenti attribuitur, quando 
 omni totique sive universe antecedenti attribuitur, 
 omnibusque iis, quse sub ejus significatione continen- 
 tur. Ad axioma igitur generale, tria haec requiruntur; 
 consequens, et antecedens generale, et generalis attri- 
 butio. Neque enim ex nota sive signo universali 
 definiendum fuit axioma generale ; cum et saepissime 
 non adsit nota, et ciim adest, non causa sed signum 
 tantummodo sit axioma esse generale. Indefinita 
 igitur, quae vulgo vocant, etsi notam non habent gene- 
 ralem, generalia tamen sunt ; ut definitioneset reliqua 
 artium prcecepta, quae nemo generalia esse inficiabi- 
 tur; nee notam tamen geueralcm prsefixam habent. 
 Notae axiomatis generalis tam affirmati quam negati 
 hfe sunt: " omnis, nullus ; semper, nuuquam : ubi- 
 que, nusquam," &c. 
 
 " Atque hie contradictio non semper dividit verum 
 et falsuni ; sed contingentium utraque pars falsa potest 
 esse:" ut, 
 
 Omnis in urbe locus bajis praelucet amoenis. 
 Nullus in urbe locus bajis prselucet amoenis. 
 
 " It^m non contingentium." 
 
 Ut, omne animal est rationale ; nullum animal est 
 rationale. Haec enim non contingentia sunt, sed 
 potius absurda; quia consequens speciale antecedenti 
 
 general! generaliter attribuitur. Falsa igitur pars 
 utraque generalis contradictionis esse potest, vera esse 
 non potest; falsitas quippe multiplex, Veritas una est. 
 
 " Axioma speciale est, quando consequens non omni 
 antecedenti attribuitur." 
 
 Speciale dicitur, quia de specie aliqua enuntiatur. 
 Atque ut in generali axiomate consequens generaliter, 
 sive omni et universo antecedenti; ita in speciali spe- 
 cialiter, sive non omni attribuitur. 
 
 " In hoc axiomate contradictio semper dividit verum 
 a falso." 
 
 Id est specialis contradictionis pars una semper vera, 
 pars altera semper est falsa. 
 
 " Axioma speciale est particulare aut proprium. 
 
 " Particulare, quando consequens commune antece- 
 denti particulariter attribuitur." 
 
 Est axioma speciale quia de specie aliqua, licet ea 
 quidem incerta et indefinita, enuntiatur; particulariter 
 autem consequens attribuitur, quando non universe 
 antecedenti, sed ejus alicui parti attribuitur. Attribu- 
 tienis autem particulars notte sive signa sunt, " qui- 
 dam, aliquis, aliquando, alicubi;" et negationcs gene- 
 ralium, nonnuUi, nonnunquam, non semper, non om- 
 nis, &c., quae particulari sequipollent. Commune 
 autem consequens debet esse; ex ilia regula ; Conse- 
 quens uunquam minus est autecedente, sed semper vel 
 majus eo vel saltern eequale. Unde Aristoteles, prior. 
 1, 28, negat " singulare de alio praedicari." 
 
 Sequitur nunc contradictio particularium. 
 
 " Huic autem axiomata generaliter contradicitur. 
 
 " Aliquid ignoscendum est; nihil ignoscendum est : 
 aliqua dementia non est laudanda ; omnis dementia 
 est laudanda." Hie particulari afiirmato, generale ne- 
 gatum ; et particulari negate, generale affirmatum op- 
 ponitur. Quodsi utraque pars particularis est, nou 
 mode nulla est axiematum contradictio, sed ne opposi- 
 tie quidem. Ut, Quidam homo est doctus, quidam 
 homo non est doctus. Non enim eidcm subjecto attri- 
 buuntur, qua; lex est eppositorum. Pars igitur utraque 
 vera esse potest; sicuti etiam ciim utraque afBrniataest 
 vel negata : ut, Omnis homo est ralionalis, quidam 
 home est rationalis : nullus homo est irratienalis, qui- 
 dam homo non est irratienalis. In his non modo con- 
 tradictio nulla, sed consensie summa est, generis nempe 
 et speciei. 
 
 " Axioma proprium " (quod alii singulare vocant) 
 "est, quando consequens antecedenti proprie attribui- 
 tur." Antecedens autem logice proprium dicitur 
 quando rem vel personam singularem designat ; sive 
 proprio nomine exprimatur, sive non : qualia sunt etiam 
 demonstrativa ; ut, "hie homo." Secundo, quae per 
 synecdochen generis dicuntur; ut poeta pro Horaero 
 aut Virgilio, philosophus pro Aristotele aut Platone, et 
 similia. Ad consequens autem hujus axiomatis quod 
 attinet, id vel commune esse potest vel proprium. 
 
 Proprii contradictio est quando utraque pare est pro- 
 pria: in quo discrepat k particulari, cuj us pars altera 
 duntaxat particularis esse debet; consentit cum gene- 
 rali, cujus pars utraque generalis; ut, "Fabulla est 
 bella:" cujus negatio et contradictio est, "Fabulla 
 non est bella." Atque hoec de axiomate simpiici. 
 
898 
 
 ARTIS LOGICiE PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Ad has axiomatis simplicis aflTectiones addunt Aris- 
 totelici (rqiiipollentiam et coiirersioneni. 
 
 ^qiiipollentia definitiir, " enuntiatinnuin verbis dis- 
 crcpantium coiu'enientia re atque scnsu: sic aliquis 
 bonio est doctus, et, non omnis homo est doctus," idem 
 Talent, et similia, lit supra in notis est dictum. iEqui- 
 pollcutia itaque cum in verbis duntaxat, non in rebus, 
 posita sit, ad grammaticam vel ad rhetoricam et ver- 
 borum c-opiam remittenda est. 
 
 Conversio est pracdicati unius enuntiationis in locum 
 subject! transpositio ad probandam alteram enuntia- 
 tiouem, quae ex ea transposilionc sive conversione effi- 
 citur. Ea triplex affertur; simplex, per accidens, et 
 per contrapositionem. Simplex, quae tit manente eadeni 
 enuntiationis et quantitate et qualitate: fitque etiam 
 tripliciter; in universali negante; ut "nullus homo est 
 lapis, ergo nullus lapis est homo : " in particulari afBr- 
 mante ; ut, " aliquis homo est albus, ergo aliquod al- 
 bum est homo:" in affirmante denique universali et 
 necessaria ; ut " omnis homo est risibilis, ergo omne 
 risibilc est homo." Et haec est una omnium conver- 
 sionum verissima, quse et " reciprocatio " dicitur, pro- 
 prii scilicet cum suo subjecto, deflniti cum sua defini- 
 tione. 
 
 Conversio per accidens mutat enuntiationis quanti- 
 tatem; universalom scilicet affirmantem in particula- 
 rem : ut, " omuls homo est animal, ergo quoddam 
 animal est homo." Per accidens hancdici volunt, quia 
 aliud prius scquitur, nempc, " quidam homo est animal," 
 ex quo hoc deinde, siinplici conversione, " ergo quod- 
 dam animal est homo." 
 
 Conversio per contrapositionem mutat enuntiationis 
 qualitatem : universalem scilicet afTirmantem in negan- 
 tem : vcl, in qua loco subject! et prasdicati, ponitur 
 utriusque conversi contradictio : ut, " omnis homo est 
 rationalis; ergo quodcunque non est rationale, non est 
 homo: omne mortalc est genitum ; ergo quod non est 
 genitum, non est morlale; vel, quod est non genitum, 
 est non mortale: admittendi ad sacramenta, habcnt 
 poenitentiam ct fidem; ergo qui haec non habcnt, non 
 sunt admittendi." Tres hosce modos conversionum ex 
 Aristot. petunt : duos priores ex 1 Prior, c. 2, tertium 
 ex 2 Top. c. 1, syllogisticiB reductionis gratia, cujus 
 inutiliter infra ostendetur, ab ipso invcntos. 
 
 Conversione autem hac ne dccipiamur forte, neque 
 enira fidissiraa est, cautiones quaedam adhibcri solent : 
 prima, ne termini sint figurati ; ut, " panis est corpus 
 Christi." Sccunda, ne quid mutiletur ; ut " quidam cer- 
 nit circum, ergo caecus cernit qucndani :" totum enim 
 prt^dicatum non est " caecum," scd " cernit caecum ;" ut 
 etiam in hac ; " omnis senex fuit puer, ergo quidam puer 
 fuit sencx ;" non enim " puer," sed " fuit puer" totum 
 pnedicatum est; convertendum ergo, "quidam qui fdit 
 puer, est senex." Tertia, ut casus obiiqui a conversione 
 facti, rcddantur recti ; ut, " aliqua arbor est in agro ; 
 ergo aliquod quod est in agro, est arbor," non sic, 
 " erero aliquis ager est in arbore." 
 
 SedjOmissis istis cautionibus, expeditior via est,con- 
 
 versionem omnem si dubia sit, tanquam sophisma peti- 
 tionis principii rejicere ; ut quae sine medio termino 
 probare rem dubiam conetur : dc quo sophismate infra 
 monebimus. 
 
 CAP. V. 
 
 De Axiomate copulato. 
 
 " AxioMA compositum est quod vinculo conjunclionis 
 continetur." 
 
 Hoc genus axiomatis Aristoteles totum praetermisit. 
 Vulgo " propositio hypothetica" vocatur; i. e. conditio- 
 nalis ; angustd nimis ; cum ea vox compositis ncm om- 
 nibus conveniat, ut suo loco patebit. Compositum 
 autem dicitur, quia sententia est multiplex, quae in 
 plures resolvi simplices potest : nee tamen dicendum 
 est, ex simplicib. axiomatis componi, sed ex argumen- 
 tis, quae conjunctionis vinculo composita, multipliccm 
 sententiam efHciunt: idcirco autem axioma componitur, 
 quia argumenta in eo conjuncta consentiunt ct conipo- 
 sitionera appetunt. Nulla autem hie ratio habctur 
 quantitatis, generale sit an speciale, sed tantuni com- 
 positionis. Ut autem verbum fuit vinculum simplicis, 
 itaconjunctio est axiomatis compositi, ejusque proinde 
 forma et quasi anima est. 
 
 " Itaque a conjunctione affirmata vel negata, affirma- 
 tur vel negatur." Conjunctione non negata, negatuin 
 axioma non erit, etiamsi partes omnes erunt negatae. 
 
 " Contradictionisque pars vera est, pars falsa." De 
 qua vulgus logicorum silet. 
 
 " Enuntiatum compositum est pro sua conjunctione 
 congregativum aut segregativura. 
 
 " Congregativum est cujus partes tanquam simul 
 verse, conjunctione sua congregantur." Conjunctione 
 videlicet non solum ilia grammatica veriim etiam sen- 
 tentiarum quavis relatione. Cum autem relatio ista, 
 sive grammatica sive logica, multiplex sit, essentia', 
 conscquentiae, sive causae, quantitatis, qualitatis, teni- 
 poris, loci, relatio quidem essentiae (cujus notte sunt 
 " is qui, id quod") et loci (cujus notae sunt " ubi, ibi ") 
 ad simplicia axiomata referenda est; de reliquis suo 
 loco. 
 
 " Congregativum enuntiat omnia consentanea affir- 
 mando, omni dissentanea negando." Hoc est, si unum 
 consentaneorum subjecto attribuatur, alterum quoque 
 attribuitur ; et contra, uno negato, alterum negatur : 
 si unum dissentaneorum de subjecto affirmatur, alte- 
 rum negatur ; et contra. Ita semper consentanea 
 simul hie afHrmanda vel ncganda sunt, dissentanea non 
 simul. 
 
 " Congregativum vero est copulatnm aut connexum. 
 Copulatum, cujus conjunctio est copulativa." Ut 
 yEneid. 1. 
 
 " Una Eurusque Notusque ruunt, creberque piocellis 
 Africus." 
 
 Hie igitur negatio erit et contradictio, negatae con- 
 junctione; " non una Eurusque Notusque ruunt," &c. 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 8d9 
 
 " Socrates et doctus erat et formosus : Socrates non et 
 doctus erat et formosus." Quodsi hoc modo neg-aretur, 
 " Socrates uec doctus erat nee formosus," (qui modus 
 contradictionis est adijibendus cum omnes partes sunt 
 falsae,) contradictio non esset axiomatica ; non enim 
 vinculum nesraretur, sed partes; copulatio enim sig-- 
 nificat utrumque simul verum esse, ejus neg-atio 
 non utrumque ; at heec negatio neutrum : ac si dic- 
 tum esset, " Socrates et non doctus et non formosus 
 erat : " deinde, in axiomate composite contradictio- 
 nis pars una vera, altera est falsa ; hie autem utra- 
 que : hoc ergo axioma, " Socrates nee doctus erat 
 nee formosus," est potius axioma copulatum aflTirma- 
 tum, cujus partes negantur. Copulati autem negatio 
 per axioma etiam discretum fieri potest, cum partes 
 non omnes falsa sunt; ut infra intelligitur. Con- 
 junctio denique hie sa;pe non adest, sed intelligitur. 
 
 " Verum autem enuntiati copulati judicium pcndct 
 ex omnium partium veritate ; falsum, ex uua saltem 
 parte falsa." Hoc est axioma copulatum judicatur 
 esse verum, si omnes partes simul verce sunt; falsum, 
 si vel una pars erit falsa. Idem tradit Gellius, 1. 16, 
 C.8. In copulato enim axiomate, Veritas omnium par- 
 tium spectatur, quia partes omnes absolute enuntian- 
 tur tanquam simul ver;e. 
 
 " Huic generi affine est enuntiatum relatte qualita- 
 tis, cujus conjunctio" logica potius est quum gramma- 
 tica, nempe " ipsa relatio." 
 
 Relata autem qualitas est plena similitudo : ut notee 
 ipsoe testantur; " qualis, talis, quemadmodum, sic." 
 Eclug. 3. 
 
 " Tale tuum carmen nobis, divine poeta. 
 Quale sopor fessis in grainine. " 
 
 Hie copulatum judicium est tanquam diceretur, 
 sopor est fessis gratus, et sic tuum carmen nobis gra- 
 tum est : cujus negatio, Non tale tuum carmen, quale 
 sopor, &c. 
 
 Ad hunc etiam locum pertinet relatio quantitatis in 
 plenis comparationibus : quarum notse sunt, ciim a 
 pari, " idem quod, tam quam, tanto quanto, tot quot, 
 eo quo;" tum a majori, " non solum, sed etiam;" tum 
 k minori, " non modo non, sed ne," (quae nota est 
 copulati axiomatis aflirmali, cujus partes negantur) 
 " cum tum." Relatio autem hoec et qualitatis et 
 quantitatis, si hypothetice non absolute enuutiatur, ad 
 counexum potius referenda est. 
 
 Relationes autem loci ad axioma simplex rectius 
 referuntur, ut supra est dictum. Neque enim in hujus- 
 modi exemplo, " ubi araici ibi opes," est copulatum 
 judicium, sed simplex et quidem generale; scilicet, 
 omnem divitem amices habere. 
 
 CAP. VI. 
 
 De Axiomate connexo. 
 
 " Axioma connexum est congregativum, cujus con- 
 junctio est connexiva. 
 
 3 M 
 
 " Ut, si, nisi" affirmative. Idem enim valet " nisi," 
 quod " si non :" quo non totum axioma, sed antecc- 
 dens tantum negatur: ut ^neid. 2, 
 
 Si miserum fortuna Sinonem 
 
 Finxit, vanum etiam mendacemque improba finget." 
 
 Cujus negatio est, negata conjunctione, " Non si 
 miserum fortuna Sinonem finxit, vanum etiam menda- 
 cemque improba finget." 
 
 " Conjunctio etiam hsec interdum negatur apertiiis, 
 negando consequentiam." Ut non continuo, non il- 
 lico, non idcirco, non ideo : his enim formulis non 
 consequens axiomatis, id n. contradictionem non effi- 
 ceret, sed ipsa partium consequentia quse logica con- 
 junctio est apertius negatur: ut pro Amer. " Non con- 
 tinuo, si me in sicariorura gregem contuli, sicarius 
 sum." De Fato : " nee si omne enuntiatum verum 
 est aut falsum, sequitur illico causas esse immuta- 
 biles." 
 
 " Affirmatio enim significat, si sit antecedens, etiam 
 consequens esse. Negatio itaque et contradictio sta- 
 tuit, si sit antecedens, non ideo consequens esse. 
 
 Potest et connexo pro axioma discretum coutradici : 
 ut, " quamvis omne enuntiatum sit verum aut falsum, 
 non tamen causee sunt imrautabiles ;" quod scquente 
 capite liquebit. 
 
 " Sed ciim judicabis connexum absolute," i. e. per 
 se suaque natura " verum esse, necessarium quoque 
 judicabis; et intelliges banc necessitatem ex necessa- 
 ria partium connexione oriri, qute ipsa potest esse vel 
 in falsis partibus." 
 
 •' Ut, si homo est leo,est etiam quadrupes," necessa- 
 rium connexum est; quia argumentorum, quoe hie con- 
 nectuntur, leonis scilicet et quadrupedis, connexio est 
 necessaria, speciei scilicet cum genere. Unde efficitur 
 axioma generaliter verum ac proiude necessarium ; 
 " omnis leo est quadrupes :" quod in connexio indicium 
 •St absolutoe veritatis. Sic, si " Socrates est homo, est 
 etiam animal," absolute verum est et necessarium, quia 
 omnis homo est animal : hujusque connexi consequens 
 falsum esse non potest, nisi antecedens quoque falsum 
 sit, quod aliud signum est absolutee veritatis. 
 
 Quod si consequens falsum fuerit, falsum item est 
 antecedens. " Si illud, hoc : si non hoc, ne illud 
 quidem." Atque ita, ut jam demonstravimus, si con- 
 nexio absolute vera est, erit quoque necessaria: sin ex 
 conditione et pacto, sine quo connexum per se suaque 
 natura verum non esset, erit tantummodo contingens. 
 
 " Quod si connexio sit contingens, et pro sua tantum 
 probabilitate ponatur, judicium ejus tantum opinio 
 fuerit. 
 
 Ut Terent. Andr. 
 
 "Pamphile,si id facts, hodie postremum me \'ides." 
 
 Hoc est, si Philumenam uxorem ducis, ego hodie 
 moriar: quod nemo sequiexistimaverit, nisi hoc posito, 
 Charinum, qui hoc dicit, Philumenam perditissime 
 amare. Per se enim nulla est conuexionis necessitas 
 inter nuptias Pamphili et interitum Charini. Qui 
 autem ex amoris vehementia sic existimabit, ejus ju- 
 dicium non erit scientia, sed opinio. 
 
900 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 Ut autem judicare posslraus, quce connexio sit abso- 
 lute vera, quae iion, spectanda arg'uineiita sunt, quae in 
 axioniate conncctuntur, consentiant inter se nee ne, et 
 quo modo. Ut "si dies est, lux est," connexum est 
 necessarium, quia dies sive sul ortus est causa lucis. 
 " Si dies est, Dio ambulat," connexum est falsum aut 
 contin<{ens; quia nulla est affectiu absolute consentanca 
 inter diem et Diouem. 
 
 " Connexio axiomati afRnis est ista consequcntite 
 relatio:" qute a nonnullis, " relatio causae" dicitur ; 
 et axioma efficit, quod " Stoici causale" nominant; 
 Laert. in Zenone : quia nempe antecedens est causa 
 consequcntis, adeoquc vinculum ejus conjunctio causa- 
 lis "cum, quia, quoniam;" quibus respondet " ideo," 
 Tel "etiam : ut, ciini Tullius sit orator, est etiam peri- 
 tus bene dicendi." Quanquam autem relata ista con- 
 ncxis affiuia sunt, non nibil tamen discrepant: in ante- 
 ccdentc enim conncxi queedam conditio est, in hoc 
 relato nulla : connexum potest ex falsis partibus verum 
 esse, rclatum hoc sive causale non potest esse verum, 
 nisi antecedens verum fuerit : ut, " quia dies est, sol 
 est supra horizontem." 
 
 AfKnis est et relatio temporis axiomati connexo, ut 
 ait ipse Ramus infra, c. 13. 
 
 Relatio autem temporis has habet notas, " turn cum, 
 donee dum, quamdiu tamdiu :" ut apud Ovid, in epist. 
 
 " Cum Paris CEnone potent spirare relicta 
 Ad fontem Xanlhi versa recurret aqua." 
 
 Sic — " Donee eris felix, ir.ultos numerabis amicos." 
 
 Potest etiam connexum enuntiari sine ulla non modu 
 relationis, verum etiam connexionis nota ; ut, " posita 
 causa, ponitureflTectum. Fac hoc, et vives." Ovid, in 
 epist. " sume fidem et pharetram, fies manifestus Apol- 
 lo." Nonnunquam etiam duob. negativis : Cic. pro 
 Milone, " non hoc fragile corpus humanum meute regi- 
 tur, et uon regitur meute universum niundi corpus." 
 
 CAP. VII. 
 
 De Axiomate discreto. 
 
 " AxioMA segregativum est, cujus conjunctio est 
 segregativa. 
 
 " Ideoque argumenta dissentanea enuntiat. 
 
 " Enuntiatum segregativum est discretum aut dis- 
 junctura. 
 
 " Discretum, cujus conjunctio est discretiva." Dis- 
 cretum dicitur, quod conjunctione ilia segregativa dis- 
 cemuntur ct segregantur, ea potissimum quse leviter et 
 ratione tantum dissentiunt. 
 
 " Itaque 6 dissentaneis preecipue diversa enuntiat." 
 
 PrtBcipu^, quia diversoruni notce, " non hoc, sed 
 illud," ut superiore libro dictum est, in diversis non- 
 nunquam Solent oppositis inservire. Ut autem diver- 
 sorum ita etiam discreti axiomatis doctrina distinc- 
 tionibus duntaxat, non conclusionibus, idonea est: ctu 
 reliquis proptereadialecticis, qui omnia ad syllogismum 
 
 referunt, omissa. Sed rationis usus quicunquc in logica 
 prjptermittendus non erat. Exempli gratia: Tuscul. 
 5, " Quanquam sensu cor})oris judicentur, ad aninium 
 referri tamen." Cujus negatio et contradictio est, 
 "non quanquam corporis sensu judicentur, tamen ad 
 animum referri: vcl, quanquam sensu corporis judi- 
 centur, non tamen ad animum referri." Nam " tamen" 
 est hie conjunctio proecipua. Quemadmodum autem 
 copulati ct conncxi axiomatis negatio et contradictio 
 discretum esse potest, ita vicissim copulatum vel con- 
 nexum discreti : ut, " quanquam culpa vacat, non tamen 
 suspicione caret:" cujus per copulatum contradictio 
 est, " et culpa vacat, et suspicione caret ;" vel per con- 
 nexum, " si culpa vacat, etiam suspicione caret." 
 
 " Discretum enuntiatum judicatur esse verum et le- 
 gitimum, si partes non solum vera?, sed etiam discretoe 
 sint; falsum vel ridiculum contra." 
 
 Ut, " quanquam Ulysses formosus erat, tamen non 
 erat infacundus," falsum est, quia antecedens est fal- 
 sum. Sed si consequens modo verum est, axioma 
 verum erit, etiamsi antecedeni- verum esse tantummodo 
 concedatur. Hoc autem, " quanquam Menelaus for- 
 mosus erat, tamen erat facundus," non est discretum, 
 sed ne segregativum quidem : omnis enim segregativi 
 axiomatis partes tanquara non simul veraj segregantur, 
 hie vero tanquam simul veree congregantur. " Quan- 
 quam Ulysses facundus erat, non tamen erat indiser- 
 tus," est ridiculum, quia partes non sunt discrete sed 
 oppositte. 
 
 CAP. VIII. 
 
 De Axiomate disjimcto. 
 
 " Axioma disjunctum est axioma segregativum, 
 cujus conjunctio est disjunctiva." 
 
 Ut, "aut dies est, aut nox est. Aut vera est haec 
 enunciatio, aut falsa." Nam ut ex Cicerone citatur 
 hoc exemplum, "omnis enuntiatio vera est aut falsa," 
 videtur esse distributio potius quam disjunctio. Dis- 
 tributio autem quatenus de toto diviso partes enuntian- 
 tur, axioma simplex et generale est, adeoque non com- 
 positum nedum disjunctum. Neque enim distributionis 
 partes, quamvis inter se oppositse, oppositionem vcl dis- 
 junctionem ullam faciunt, sed eidem toti subjiciuntur, 
 et in ejusdem simplicis axiomatis consequente verbi 
 vinculo cum toto, quod antecedens est, consentiunt; at 
 extra distributionem, ubi non de toto, sed de aliqua 
 ejus parte vel specie enuuciantur, turn demum axioma 
 disjunctum efficiunt: ut, quod supra posuimus, " hjcc 
 enuntiatio aut vera est aut falsa." 
 
 " Hie significatur e disjunctis unicum verum esse." 
 
 Nempe quia opposita hie sola disponi debent. At- 
 que id semper ii differente significatur, tametsi ali- 
 quando accidit, ut disjunctorum vel plura uno, vcl 
 nullum omnino verum sit. Negatio igitur et contra- 
 dictio erit, " non aut dies aut nox est." 
 
 " Et contradictione significatur, non neccssario al- 
 tcrutrum verum esse." 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 901 
 
 " Nam si disjunctio absolute vera est, est etiam ne- 
 cessaria; partesque disjunctoe sunt opposita sine ullo 
 medio." De quibus vide superioris libri caput de con- 
 tradicentibus. 
 
 " Veruntamen quamvis absolute vera disjunctio, ne- 
 cessaria quoque sit; tamen nihil necesse est partes 
 separatim necessarias esse." 
 
 Ut, " eras aut pluetaut non pluct," disjunctio est ne- 
 cessaria, quia ex contradicentibus constat, quae sunt 
 contraria sine medio: et tamen, "eras pluetet eras non 
 pluet," utrumque contingens axioma est. Sic, " homo 
 aut bonus est aut non bonus," See. 
 
 " Nam disjunctionis necessitas pendet h necessaria 
 partium oppositione et disjunctione, non ex earum 
 necessaria veritate." 
 
 Hinc argumentum illud dissolvitur Chrjsippi Stoici 
 aliorumque veterum, apud C'iceronem de Fato ; quo 
 probarc sunt conati, futura omnia esse necessaria et 
 quasi fatalia, eo quod necesse sit ea aut vera esse aut 
 falsa. Disjunctio quidem, ut diximus, necessaria est ; 
 pars lamcn disjunctionis alterutra talis erit, qualis causa 
 ejus est ; sive necessaria, sire contingens, i. e. vel libera 
 vel fortuita. 
 
 Atque bsec de necessaria disjunctione, cujus judicium 
 scientia est. 
 
 '* Disjunctio autem ssepe est ex conditione." 
 
 " Ut si qutpratur utrum Cleon venerit an Socrates, 
 quia ita pactum si alterutrum tantum venturum esse." 
 
 " Itaque si disjunctio sit contingens (contingens 
 autcm est, si partes medium habent) uon est absolute 
 vera, sed tantum opinabilis." 
 
 Qualis est frequenter in bomiuum usu. Ut Caesar 
 ad niatrem : " hodie me aut pontificcni videbis, aut 
 exulem." Ovid, in epistola Lcandri, 
 
 " Aut mihi continget felix audacia salvo, 
 Aut mors soUiciti finis amoris erit." 
 
 CAP. IX. 
 
 De Syllogismo et ejus Partibus. 
 
 Atque ejusmodi dispositio est axiomatica sive noe- 
 tica axiomatis per se manifesli : sequitur dianoetica. 
 
 " Dianoetica est cum aliud axioma ex alio deduci- 
 tur." 
 
 Vox Gra;ca Siavota, mentis et rationis discursum sig- 
 nificat; qui tum fitmaxime ciim sententia alia ex alia 
 ratiocinando deducitur. 
 
 " Dispositio dianoetica est sjllogismus aut metho- 
 dus." 
 
 " Syllogismus est dispositio dianoetica qua quaestio 
 cum argumento ita disponitur, ut posito antecedente, 
 necessario concludatur." 
 
 Est dianoia: est ergo discursus mentis ac rationis 
 quo aliud ex alio ratiocinando colligitur : cam ratio- 
 cinantis quasi collectionem vox ipsa syllogismi signifi- 
 cat: quae quidem collcctio sive deductio ab intellectus 
 humani imbccilitate profecta est: quae cum rerum ve- 
 
 ritatem et falsitatem primo intuitu perspicere in axio- 
 mate non potest, ad syllogismum se confert, in quo de 
 consequentia et inconsequentia earum judicare possit. 
 
 " Cum itaque axioma dubium est, quaestio efficitur, 
 et ad ejus fidem tertio argumento est opus cum quoes- 
 tione collocato." 
 
 Quoestionis partes vulgo termini appellantur; et an- 
 tecedens quidem minor terminus, consequens major ter- 
 minus dicitur : quia antecedente lalius fere est conse- 
 quens. Tertium autem argumentum ab Aristot. medium 
 et medius terminus dicitur. Non quod semper medius 
 inter duos qiisestionis terminos in syllogismo collocetur, 
 sed eo quod quasi arbiter de consensu eorum inter se 
 aut dissensu, disceptat et judicat. Atque haec sunt tria 
 ilia argumenta, ex quibus solis omnis syllogismus cou- 
 ficitur ; duo scilicet questionis, et tertium argumentum ; 
 quae vulgo " tres termini" dicuntur. Termini autcm 
 isti non semper simpliccs sunt voces, sed orationes non- 
 nunquam longiusculae ; nee semper casibus rectis, sed 
 obliquis interdum eflTeruutur. 
 
 " Partes syllogismi dute sunt; anteccdens et conse- 
 quens. Antecedens syllogismi pars est, in qua quaestio 
 cum argumento disponitur." 
 
 " Syllogismi antecedens partes duas babet, proposi- 
 tioneni et assuraptionem : qua: vulgo praemissse nomi- 
 nantur. 
 
 " Propositio est prior pars antcccdentis, qua quoesti- 
 onis saltern consequens cum argumento disponitur." 
 
 "Saltern;" quia nonnunquam tota quaestio cum 
 argumento in propositione disponitur, ut infra patebit. 
 
 Propositio vulgo " major" dicitur; vel quia majo- 
 rem vim babet (est enim argumentationis quasi basis 
 et fundamentum) vel quia major terminus, i. c. conse- 
 quens qutestionis in propositione collocatur. 
 
 " Assumptio est secunda pars antcccdentis, quse as- 
 sumitur e propositione." 
 
 Assumitur enim inde vel tertium argumentum vel 
 tota assumptio, ut infra perspicietur. Hinc itaque ar- 
 gumentum tertium, sive medius terminus, dignoscitur, 
 quod bis ponitur ante conclusionem. Assumptio vulgo 
 " minor propositio" dicitur, vel quia minorem vim ob- 
 tinet, ex propositione videlicet deductam; vel quia 
 minor terminus, i. e. antecedens quoestionis, in ea sfepe 
 disponi soleat, non semper, ut infra intelligemus. 
 
 " Syllogismi autem pars consequens est, quae com- 
 plectitur partes quoestionis, eamque concludit. Unde 
 complectio ct conclusio dicitur." 
 
 Hinc sequitur, conclusionem et verbis et terminoruiu 
 ordine, eandem plane esse cum proposita queestione 
 oportere ; alioqui syllogismi fidem claudicare, et quasi 
 depositum non reddere. Secundo hinc intelligitur ilia 
 regula, "tertium argumentum sive medius terminus 
 nunquam ingreditur conclusionem." Ratio est, quia 
 medium non est id quod concluditur, neque de quo 
 quicquam ; sed id, quo adhibito, quaestio concluditur, 
 vel duo ejus termini inter se consentire aut dissentire 
 judicantur. Medius itaque terminus aut ulla pars ejus 
 in conclusione si sit, syllogismum vitiosum facit; id 
 facillime deprehenditur, si non solum qusestio propo- 
 sita, sed proeterea aliquid quod bis erat in praemissis 
 rcpetitum, conclusionem intrat. 
 
902 
 
 ARTIS LOGICiE PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 Cum autem in oniiii s^ilogismo, ut ex ejus defini- 
 tioue constat, quaestiu cum argumento ita disponatur, 
 ut posito antecedente, i. e. concessis praemissis, neces- 
 sario conchidatur: qusQ necessitas non consequentis, 
 sed consequenticC, non materi<e, sed formse est ; bine 
 intellig-itur, uullam in syllogismi forma differentiam 
 esse contingentis ct necessarii, sed syllogismum omnem 
 necessario concludere, teste etiam Aristot. Prior. 1, 33, 
 camque necessitatem ex legitima dispositione quses- 
 tionis cum tcrtio argumento, non ex necessaria partiuni 
 in antecedente dispositarum veritate pendere. Unde 
 ct illi redarguuntur, qui vulgo dividunt syllogismum in 
 dialecticum et apodicticum, probabilem scilicet et de- 
 monstrativum, sive necessarium, cum et ilia distinctio 
 axioraatum sit, et syllogism! consequentia tam in con- 
 tingent!, immo in falso necessaria sit, quam in vero et 
 necessario; immo ex falsis praemissis conclusio nunc 
 vera nunc falsa necessariu sequatur : ut, " omnis leo 
 est quadrupes: Socrates est leo ; ergo Socrates est qua- 
 drupcs." In quo simile quiddam habct syllogismus 
 axiomati connexo, et fortasse originem ab eo ducit : 
 nam ut connexum necessarium esse potest ex falsis 
 partibus, modo ipsa connexio sit vera ; ut, " si leo est 
 quadrupes, et Socrates leo, Socrates necessario est 
 quadrupes;" sic syllogismus necessario concludit ex 
 veris quidem partibus nil nisi verum, ex falsis et falsum 
 et verum, modo ipsa dispositio sit legitima. 
 
 Quod autem Aristotelici syllogismum dividunt in 
 verum et falsum sive apparentem; verum, cujus ma- 
 teria vera est ; in dialecticum sive probabilem, cujus 
 materia contingens est, et apodicticum sive demonstra- 
 tivum ac necessarium, eumque vel perfectum, quae vo- 
 catur SioTi sive a priori, quo accidens de subjecto per 
 causam vel efficientem vel finalem positam quidem 
 affirmatur, remotam vero negatur; et in imperfectum 
 quae vocatur tov oti sive a posteriori, quo accidens de 
 subjecto per efTectum probatur ; bsec quidem divisio, 
 qualiscunque est, cum axiomatis propria sit, ct vel ad 
 formam syllogismi ut in dialectico et apodictico, vel 
 omnino ad artem, ut in falso sive sopbistico, nihil per- 
 tineat, melius rejicitur. 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 De Paralogismit qui hac generali doctrina syllogismi 
 redarguuntur. 
 
 Atque faeec syllogismi doctrina generalis fuit. Et 
 rectum quidem index est sui et obliqui, et veritatis 
 doctrina recte tradita, errorem omnem ipsa per se in- 
 dicat atque etiam redarguit. Verum cum non sit ea 
 cujusque hominis perspicacia aut ingenii felicitas, ut 
 vel omnes tecbnas adversarii animadvertere ex ipsis 
 regulis, vel omnes artis regulas meraoria tenere semper 
 queat, alicnum nun erit de praecipuis captionibus quee 
 committere in banc generalem syllogismi doctrinam 
 sclent, seorsim hie aliquid monere. 
 
 Cum itaque syllogismi doctrina generali doceamur, 
 tria duntaxat argumeuta sive tres terminos in syllo- 
 gisroo disponi oportere, hinc facile perspicuum est, 
 
 peccare omnem syllogismum in banc doctrinam gene- 
 ralem, in quo termini vel plures ternis disponantur, 
 vel pauciores: termini autem non tam sunt verba, 
 quam verborum sensus ct significationcs. 
 
 Peccatur autem terminis pluribus, vel apertius vel 
 tectius. Apertius (ut puerilia de acccntu, figura dic- 
 tionis, plurium, quae dicitur interrogationum,et similia 
 omittam) cum tres termini distincte numerantur in 
 proposilione : ut, " qui est bonus et dialecticus, is est 
 bonus dialecticus ; Cleanthcs est bonus et dialecticus ; 
 ergo, est bonus dialecticus." Haec fallacia composi- 
 tionis dicitur; quia divisa male componit. Coutra; 
 " qui est bonus dialecticus, is est bonus et dialecticus ; 
 Cleanthcs," &c. Heec fallacia est divisiouis; quia 
 composita male dividit; vel quia composita proponit, 
 divisa concludit Idem comniittitur etiam sine con- 
 junctione : ut, " bonus citbarocdus est bonus ; Nero est 
 bonus citbartedus ; ergo, bonus." Bonus duplici sig- 
 nificatione cum " citbarcedo " disponitur in proposi- 
 tione; quatuor ergo termini. Sic etiam cum non 
 iisdem verbis aliud plane proponitur, aliud assumitur: 
 ut, " dextera Dei est ubique; humanitas Christi sedet 
 ad dextrara Dei; ergo, humanitas Christi est ubique." 
 
 Tectius vero peccatur, vel " homonymia," vel " am- 
 pbibolia." 
 
 Homonymia sive sequivocatio est, primo, cum sim- 
 plicis vocis sen termini unius, significatio duplex poui- 
 tur: ut, "leo est bestia; leo est papa; ergo, papa est 
 bestia." Secundo, cum argumentum in una parte pro- 
 pria, in altera tropice ponitur ; vel in una parte pro 
 reipsa, in altera pro artificiali aliqua notione rei. 
 Hujusraodi sunt artium vocabula : ut, " potens est 
 participium ; rex est potens; ergo, rex est participium." 
 " Animal est genus ; homo est animal ; ergo, bomo est 
 genus." 
 
 Amphibolia sive ambiguitas vel in syntax! est, vel 
 in ipsa re. In syntaxi ; ut, " pecunia quse est Caesa- 
 ris, possidetur a Csesare ; haec pecunia est Caesaris ; 
 ergo, possidetur a Csesare." Ambiguitas in ipsa re, 
 quoe et " prava expositio " vocatur, fit, cum affectio rei 
 non eadem assumitur quae proponitur ; mutata autem 
 afFectione, mutatur argumentum ; ut, " quas carnes 
 emisti, comedisti ; crudas emisti ; ergo, crudas come- 
 disti." Hie propositi© et de carnibus et de substantia 
 carnium loquitur ; assumptio, de qualitate earuro : 
 dicendum ergo erat, " quales carnes emisti," &c. 
 Eadem est fallacia cum id quod in '* abstracto," quod 
 aiunt, proponitur, in " concrete" assumitur : ut " can- 
 didum est disgregativum visus ; paries est candidus; 
 ergo, paries est disgregativum visus." Etiam cum in 
 ipsa copula quartus terminus latet : ut " fortitudo non 
 est dementia ; principis est fortitudo; ergo, principis 
 non est dementia." Hie verbum " est " in niajore 
 "esse," in minore " habere" significat; casuumque 
 rautationem rectorum in obliquos inducit; qui quatuor 
 esse terminos declarant. " Nullus puer diu vixit : 
 Nestor fuit puer; ergo, Nestor non diu vixit." Hie 
 major de eo qui est, minor de eo qui fuit puer loqui- 
 tur; qui duo termini sunt. Quatuor denique sunt 
 termini cum plus est in conclusione quam in prae- 
 missis. 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 903 
 
 Pauciores autem termini sunt ternis, cum tertium 
 argumentum deest. Hoc fit quoties vel idem sensu 
 vel seque obscunim pro argumento sumitur ; (idem 
 enim non est tertium ; ceque obscurum nou est argu- 
 mentum) quae " petitio principii," vel, ejus quod erat 
 in principio nominatur; quia postulatur ipsa quaestio 
 ut gratis, i. e. sine argumento concedatur: ut, " ensis 
 est acutus ; gladius est ensis ; ergo, gladius est acutus." 
 Vel, " quod omnis homo est, id singuli homines sunt; 
 omnis homo est Justus; ergo, singuli homines sunt 
 justi." Hue refer jactatura illud, " quie non amisisti 
 habes, cornua non amisisti, ergo cornua habes." Ha- 
 bere et amittere privantia sunt et quidem sine medio 
 quatenus talia, ergo non amittere et iiabere sunt idem, 
 iiullus itaque hie est niedius terminus, sed pcrinde ac 
 si diceres ; quae habes, habes, cornua habes, ergo habes. 
 Hujus generis est, ciim tertium argumentum non inte- 
 grum e propositione assumitur : ut, " omnes apostoli 
 sunt duodecim ; Petrus et Joannes sunt apostoli ; ergo, 
 Petrus et Joannes sunt duodecim." Hie " omnes" 
 collective sumptum, pars est tertii argumenti, quod 
 totuni erat in assumptione assumendum. Ad hoc so- 
 phisma referrendce sunt denique omnes conversiones 
 enuntiationum ; quoties rem dubiam uon argumento 
 sive medio termino, sed conversione sola probare con- 
 tendunt : de qua supra monuimus. Atque his fer6 
 modis in formam syllogismi generalem peccatur. 
 
 Materia syllogismi vitiosa est, quoties antecedentis 
 pars vel altera vel utraque est falsa : id fit tot modis, 
 quot sunt argumeiitorum genera. Quorum ciira Veritas 
 turn falsitas quanquam in axiom^te judicatur, propterea 
 tamen quod argumenta ipsa in syllogismodisponuntur, 
 qui modi prtrcipue nominantur adialecticis vcl materia 
 sola, vel partim materia, partira forma vitiosi, eos hie 
 breviter attingemus. 
 
 Primus est materite solius; diciturque " non causae 
 ut causae." Causoe autem nomen hie usurpatur pro 
 quovis argumento, etiain non efTecti ut effecti, non sub- 
 jecti ut subjecti, et sic deincops. Hanc captionem 
 singulorum argunientorumdefinitiones facile refellunt. 
 
 Secundus est quie vocatur fallacia " accidentis," sive 
 quod idem est, a dicto secundum quid ad dictum sim- 
 pliciter : vel contra, a dicto simpliciter ad dictum se- 
 cundum quid ; quoties id quod adjuncti est, subjecto 
 attribuitur ; aut contra quod subjecti, adjuncto: ut, 
 "quae non restituendasunt domino furioso, non restitu- 
 enda sunt domino ; " arma non restituenda sunt domi- 
 no furioso ; ergo, non domino :" vel contra : quae 
 " restituenda sunt domino, etiam domino furioso ; 
 arma domino; ergo, domino furioso." In his propositio 
 semper falsa est. 
 
 Tertius est " ignoratio elenchi ;" (" elenchus" autem 
 est redargutio quaelibet sive vera sive falsa) cum leges 
 oppositionis non observantur eidera numero, secundum 
 idem, ad idem, et eodem tempore : ut " cseci vident ; 
 qui carent visu, sunt cseci ; ergo, qui carent visu, 
 vident." Propositio distinguenda est ; nempe, qui fue- 
 ruut cseci, nunc vident. Sic ; " is qui non videt csecus 
 est; dormiens non videt; est ergo ctecus." Ad idem 
 uon est : propositio enim de potentia, assumptio de actu 
 videndi loquitur ; vel quatuor sunt termini, et prava ex- 
 
 positio dici potest. Aliis ignorautia elenchi est, cuui 
 vel plane mutatur et torquetur status controversiae, vel 
 conclusio adversarii nou directe opponitur nostrse thesi 
 secundum canones legitimae oppositionis. 
 
 Quartus est fallacia " consequentis," sive coniparato- 
 rum, quae e contrariis quidem sunt orta, sed parium 
 collatione tractata, ciim disputatur contraria esse cou- 
 trariorum consequentia : quam regulam esse fallacem, 
 1. l,c. 18, copiose ostenditur: ut, "qua; eidem eequalia, 
 inter se oequalia ; ergo quae eidem sunt inaequalia, 
 inter se sunt incequalia." Ut, 2, et 2, sunt inaequales 
 ad 5; ergo sunt inter se inaequales. Duo latera quad- 
 rati symmetra non sunt diagono; ergo non sunt Inter se. 
 
 CAP. X. 
 
 De Syllogismo simplici contracto. 
 
 "Syllocismus est simplex aut compositus. 
 
 " Simplex, ubi pars consequensquaestionisdisponitur 
 in propositione, pars antccedens in assumptione." 
 
 Ut syllogismi forma generalis erat dispositio quiesti- 
 onis cum argumento, ita specialis quajque dispositio 
 quaestionis cum argumento cujusque speciei forma est, 
 Ex. gr. " homo est animal : Socrates est homo ; ergo 
 Socrates est animal." Hinc facile perspicitur, si 
 qnaestionis terminus major non disponatur in propo- 
 sitione majore, minor in minore, syllogism um non esse 
 legitimum. Quod si aliquando usu venit, ut antcce- 
 dens quoestionis in propositione et consequens in as- 
 sumptione disponi videatur, intelligerc debemus syllo- 
 gismi partes inverti : ut, " Socrates est homo : homo 
 est animal; ergo Socrates est animal." 
 
 Sequitur jam syllogismi simplicis distinctio in ad- 
 junctos modos, qui ex partium, i. e. axiomatum affec- 
 tione oriuntur. 
 
 "Syllogismus simplex estaffirmatuse partib. oranib. 
 affirmatis. Ncgatus ex negata antecedentis parte al- 
 tera cum complexione." Non ex omnib. negatis, ut 
 affirmatus ex omnibus affirmatis ; nisi enim argumen- 
 tum tertium cum altera parte qusestionis consentiat, 
 nihil probat. 
 
 Ut autem syllogismorum tota ratio intelligatur 
 (quod hoc loco fieri commodissime posse arbitror) 
 sciendum est cam duab. proecipue legibus fundari ; 
 altera parium, altera generis ex loco petita. Ex 
 parium loco ; " quae conveniunt in uno aliquo tei^ 
 tio, conveniunt inter se ; et contra, quae non in 
 uno tertio, non inter se." Ex loco generis ; " quod 
 generi generaliter attribuitur, id omnibus etiam attri- 
 buitur speciebus quae sub eo genere continentur." 
 Hffic regula vocatur in scholiis, " dictum de omni et 
 nnllo." Ilia a geometricis primum sensu praeeunte fa- 
 cilius inventa est; et praecipitur Aristot. 1, Prior, c. 1. 
 Ut enim illic norma, " si duab. lineis aeque conveniat, 
 eas lineas demonstrat convenire inter se sive esse 
 jequales;" eodem plan6 modomedius terminus si duob. 
 conclusionis terminis conveniat, velut norma demon- 
 
904 
 
 ARTis logics: plenior institutio, 
 
 stmt, conrenirc duos illos inter sc, et contra. Itaqiie 
 si qua>stio affirmanda est, qucerendum est per omues 
 iuventionis locos argumen turn quod utriquc parti quaes- 
 tionis convcniat: si neganda est, qucereiiduni quod 
 uui parti coiircniat, ab altera dissentiat; nam si ab 
 utraquc parte dissentit, tertiuni argunicntum esse noii 
 poterit, nihil n. probabit. Ex. gr. quseritur "an 
 Socrates sit animal?" Si afTirmanda est haec qucestio, 
 ad ilia duo argumcnta quae iu qutestione sunt, " So- 
 crates et animal," qucerendum aliquod tertiura argu- 
 mentum est, quod cum utraque parte quaestiouis con- 
 sentiat. Ejusniudi autem est homo: nam homo 
 convcnit cum " animali," ut species cum suo genere ; 
 cum Socrate, ut genus cum sua specie ; ergo " Socrates 
 et animal" conveniunt inter se; adeoque " Socrates est 
 animal." Sin neganda est qucestio, ut, " Socrates non 
 est bestia," quaerendum est argumentum tertium, quod 
 ab altera tantiim parte dissentiat. Hujusmodi autem 
 est " homo : homo n. non est bestia, at Socrates est 
 homo; ergo Socrates non est bestia." Sin medius cum 
 neutro quaestionis termino conveniat, neutrius norma 
 esse potest ; neque ostendit, inter se conveniant, necne ; 
 neque " de omni " dicit neque " de nullo ; " adeoque 
 nee probat quicquam nee refellit. Unde ilia regula; 
 " ex utraquc prcemissa negata nihil concluditur : Aris- 
 tot. 1, Prior, c. 24, ut " nullus lapis est animal; nullus 
 homo est lapis, nullus igitur homo est animal." Ex- 
 cipitur tamcn ab hac regula, si medius terminus sitne- 
 gatus, vel duplex ncgatio sit in raajore : ut, " quod non 
 sentit, non est animal : planta non sentit ; ergo planta 
 non est animal." Hie enim major, quce videtur 
 esse negata, aequipollet affirmatce ; eademque est acsi 
 diceret, " omne quod sentit est animal : " negationes- 
 que istae topicac potius et infinitce, quam axiomaticie 
 sunt, partiumque negationes non totius axiomatis, hoc 
 potius modo enunliandi, " quod est non sentiens, est 
 non animal : " et hoc affirmatum plane axioma est. 
 Sed hac de re plura dicemus infra cap. 12, ad secun- 
 dara speciem explicati. Cur autem complexio, negata 
 antecedentis parte altera, negata quoque esse debet, 
 ratio est, trila ilia regula, " conclusio sequitur partem 
 dcbiliorem :" negatumquc debilius est affirmato, parti- 
 culare generali, contingens necessario. Regulap au- 
 tem ratio est, quia conclusio est prccmissarum quasi 
 effectum : nullum autem effectum est toto genere dig- 
 uius aut fortius sua causa. Fallit ergo hie paralogis- 
 mus : " qui non differt a bruto differt a Sophronisci 
 filio : Socrates non differt a Sophronisci filio; ergo non 
 a bruto." Htec conclusio non sequitur, uti dcbuit, as- 
 sumptionem negatam, sed propositionem afHrmatam : 
 et enim " non differt a bruto" non propositionis totius, 
 sed antecedentis duntaxat ejus est negatio: idemquc 
 valet, acsi affirmatum sic esset; "qui idem est cum 
 bruto." Sequitur autem conclusio sive consequens 
 partem antecedentis negatam non affirmatam, quia si 
 partes conclusionis non consentiunt in argumento fertio, 
 non consentiunt inter se : sequitur partem specialem, 
 non generalem, quia genus concludit speciem, non spe- 
 cies genus; juxta illud superius dictum "de omni et 
 
 BUIIO." 
 
 "Sjrilogrismus simplex (nimirura qui ex simplicibus 
 
 J 
 
 axiomatis constat) est vel generalis, vel specialis, vel 
 proj)rius." 
 
 " Generalis e proposilione et assumptione generali- 
 bus." 
 
 Non ex generali etiara conclusione, ut patebit infra. 
 
 " Specialis est ex altera tantum generali." 
 
 Hoec enim regula firmissima quoque est, " ex utraque 
 prcemissa particulari nihil concluditur." Exigit enim 
 dictum " de omni et nullo " partem antecedentis unam 
 saltern generalem : nee non in duabus particularibus 
 quatuor sunt termini : cum enim individua, qu;c vo- 
 cant, " vaga," particulares propositiones faciunt, fit ut 
 de alio subjecto major, de alio minor fere loquatur: ut, 
 "quoddam animal est homo: quoddam animal est 
 brulum ; ergo quoddam brutum est homo. Quidam 
 sunt divites: quidam sunt docti ; ergo quidam docli 
 sunt divites." 
 
 "Proprius est ex utraque propria." 
 
 Cur autem ex utraque propria ciim non ex utraque 
 particulari, quia nempe haec certa sunt et de eodem 
 dicta, ilia vaga " ut supra." 
 
 Hinc liquet, cur ut axioma, ita syllogismus specialis 
 in particularem et propriuni divida non potuerit, ciim 
 syllogismus proprius non sit species syllogismi specia- 
 lis. Quare autem partes omnes non sint propriae, i. c. 
 axiomata propria, infra etiam apparebit. Et syllogis 
 mus quidem proprius, etsi ab Aristotele negleclus, ab 
 aliis rejectus sit, usum tamen frequentissimum habet 
 
 " Simplex syllogismus est contractus partibus, vel 
 explicatus." 
 
 Aristoteles in tres figuras dividit syllogismum ; pri- 
 mam, secundam, et tertiam. Venim banc Rami di- 
 chotomiam esse commodiorem et naturee ordini aptius 
 respondere res ipsa demonstrabit. 
 
 " Contractus syllogismus est, cum exemplum proi 
 argumento ita subjicitur particulari qusestioni, ut utram- 
 que ejus partem antecedere et assumptione affirmatum' 
 esse intelligatur.'* 
 
 Exempli gratia: " quaedam confidentia est virtus, ut 
 constantia. Quocdam confidentia non est virtus, ut au- 
 dacia." 
 
 In his, ut cernimus, primo quopstio particularis dun- 
 taxat proponitur ; generale enim, ut inquit Aristot. pr. 
 1,6, et 2, 7, in hac specie, quce tertia nimirum Arist. 
 figura est, concludere non licet: addo otiani, neque 
 proprium ; quce ratio est, cur syllogismus generalis non 
 ex omnibus generalibus et proprium non ex omnibus 
 propriis definitur, cum in hac specie consequens sive 
 conclusio debeat semper esse particularis, etiamsi utra- 
 (jue pars antecedentis generalis aut propria fuerit : 
 unde sequitur, particulares duntaxat quiestiones in hac 
 specie concludi. Deinde exemplum speciale pro argu- 
 mento subjicitur sive subjungitur, ut " constantia." 
 
 Hujus autem syllogismi disposilio specialis htec esse 
 intelligitur, si contraclum explicamus (tametsi nun- 
 quam fer^ nisi contractus in usu occurrit) ut exemplum 
 si\e argumentum tertium, primo utramque partem 
 qucestionis in prcpmissis, quwl aiunt, antecedat, sive 
 praemissae utriusque subjectum sit. 
 
 " Hie autem argumentum sive e.vemplum utramque 
 partem quaestionis antecedere intelligitur," quia quaes- 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 905 
 
 tioiiis pare utraque argumenlo sive exemplo attribui- 
 tur, i. e. de eo vel affirmatur vel negatur ; perinde quasi 
 explicate diceretur, " constantiam esse virtutem, et esse 
 confidentiam ; ergo quandam confidentiam esse virtu- 
 tem." Item, " audaciam non esse virtutem, et tamcn 
 esse confidentiam ; ideoque quandam confidentiam non 
 esse virtutem." Exemplum ergo sive argumentum (er- 
 tium in contracto, etsi qiiaestioni subjicitur, tamen si 
 contractum explicas, et propositionis et assumptionis 
 antecedens sive subjectum esse reperitiir. Est autem 
 contractus enthymematis quaedam species, quae, cum 
 explicatur, in peculiarem quandam sj'llogismi formam 
 resolvitur, ideoque erat specialiter docenda. Secundo, 
 postnlnt bujus syllogismi dispositio, ut assumptio sem- 
 per uffirmetur. Cum enim tertium argumentum spc- 
 cialc exemplum sit, adeoque species antecedentis sive 
 miiioris termini quaestionis qui in assumptione semper 
 disponitur, atque ita antecedens sit tertii argument! 
 genus; necesse est, genus de specie semper affirmari. 
 
 " Atque ista expositio qutestionis per exemplum 
 quod subjicitur, principium syllogismi partibus expli- 
 cati ab Aristot. I, pr. 6, &c. efficitur, tanquam per se 
 plcno syllogismi judicio clarior et illustrior." 
 
 Prior ergo est ordinc syllogisnuis contractus explica- 
 to, cum quia clarior, turn quia simplicior: est autem 
 ita clarus, ut mens eum, sicuti est contractus, ante per- 
 cipiat, quam partibus explicari possit; ideoque usus 
 disscreiuli contracta bac forma contentus, formam ex- 
 plicatam rarissime solet adbibere. Claritas autem ejus 
 exiniia vel bine perepicitur; quod cum duo duntaxat 
 hujus spccici sint sopbismata, eorum iiianitatem con- 
 tracta bujus syllogismi forma facilius detegit quam ex- 
 plicata,ut infra ostcndetur. 
 
 Ad tollenduni itaquc dubitationem, non hie supplen- 
 dce syllogismi partes, ut in cntliymemate, sed contra- 
 bcndae; contractum quippe explicatio bic est explica- 
 tius, ct ab judicio syllogismi ad axiomatis clarius judi- 
 cium bic est quasi provocandum et regrediendum. 
 
 Quod ad modos attinet bujus speciei, si contractam 
 tantummodo formam spectamus, pluribus non est opus 
 quam duobus, uno affirmato, altero negato : quia non 
 refcrt, utrum exemplum subaltcrna sit species an spe- 
 cialissima. Sin explicatam banc spccicm spectamus, 
 plures babet modos quam species reliquoe : quatuor 
 autem sunt aflHrmati, totidem negati ; quorum duo 
 sunt generales, quatuor speciales, duo proprii : quatuor 
 autem sunt in bac specie speciales modi, cum in roli- 
 quis bini tantum sint ; quia in bac specie propositio 
 potest esse vel generalis vel particularis, in reliquis 
 vero nunquam particularis est. Exempla baec sunt. 
 
 Primus modus est affirmatus generalis : ut, " con- 
 stantia est virtus : constantia est coufidentia ; ergo 
 qutedam confidentia est virtus." 
 
 Secundus est negatus generalis: ut, " audacia non 
 est virtus : audacia est confidentia; ergo quaedam con- 
 fidentia non est virtus." 
 
 AfBrmatis specialis duplex est; tertius et quartus. 
 Tertius, cujus propositio est particularis: ut, " quidam 
 sapiens est dives : omnis sapiens est laudabilis ; ergo 
 quidam laudabilis est dives." 
 
 Quartus, cujus propositio est generalis : ut, " omnis 
 
 sapiens est laudabilis, quidam sapiens est pauper ; 
 ergo quidam pauper est laudabilis." 
 
 Negatus item specialis est duplex; quintus et sex- 
 tus. Quintus, cujus propositio est particularis : ut, 
 " quidam stultus non est fortunatus : omnis stultus et 
 contemptus ; ergo quidam contemptus non est fortu- 
 natus." 
 
 Sextus, cujus propositio est generalis: ut, " stultus 
 non est bcatus: quidam stultus est fortunatus; ergo 
 quidam fortunatus non est beatus." 
 
 Reliqui duo proprii sunt, cum exemplum est species 
 specialissima sive individuum. Affirmatus est, " So- 
 crates est pbilosopbus: Socrates est bomo : ergo qui- 
 dam homo est pbilosopbus." Negatus est, "Thersites 
 non est pbilosopbus: Thersites est bomo ; ergo quidam 
 bomo non est pbilosopbus." 
 
 Contracti syllogismi duo vitia sive sopbismata sunt, 
 quae definitione prtecaventur. Ununi, si quaestio sive 
 conclusio particularis non sit: ut " omnis bomo est 
 rationalis : omnis bomo est animal ; ergo omne animal 
 est rationale," ratio est, quia id quod non generaliter 
 attribuitur in assumptione (non enim omne animal est 
 bomo) non potest esse generale subjectum conclusio- 
 nis. Alterum est cum assumptio est negata : ut, 
 " bomo est animal : bomo non est bestia ; ergo bestia 
 non est animal." Quoe duo sopbismata in contracta 
 bujus syllogismi forma, facilius, ut supra dixi, dete- 
 guntur, et primo statim intuitu ridentur : ut, " omne 
 animal est rationale, ut bomo : quaedam bestia non est 
 animal, ut bomo." 
 
 CAP. XI. 
 
 De Prima Specie Sylloyixmi simpUcis explicati. 
 
 Syllogismus explicatus proetcr ipsum nomen aliam 
 definitionem non desiderat. Dicitur " explicatus," 
 non quod semper omnibus occurrat partibus explicatus, 
 sic enim vi.x millesimus quisque syllogismus occurrit, 
 sed quod partes non modo in forma integra, verum 
 ctiam in enthymeniate semper distinctas babet. 
 
 " In syllogismo explicato propositio est generalis 
 aut propria; et conclusio similis antecedenti aut parti 
 debiliori." 
 
 Similis, nempe et qualitate et quantitate : antece- 
 denti, utrique scilicet ejus parti, propositioni et assump- 
 tioni, si ipsi inter se similes sunt sive affirmatae sive 
 generales sive proprite, sin dissimiles, parti debiliori, 
 ut supra. 
 
 " Syllogismi explicati species duce sunt. Prima ubi 
 argumentum semper sequitur, negatum in altera 
 parte." 
 
 Haec prima species explicati, " figura secunda" ab 
 Aristotele dicitur. Prior autem baec species efficitur, 
 quia dispositio ejus est simplicior, ut ex altera specie 
 collata comperiemus. Sequitur autem semper argu- 
 mentum partem utramque qutestionis, consequentem 
 in propositione, antecedentem in assumptione : unde 
 
Qoa 
 
 ARTIS LOGICiE PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 ab Aristot. p. 1,5, '* praedicatum de ambabus" dicitur. 
 Negatuin autcm dicitur argumentum in altera parte 
 quia pars altera Tel propositio nempe vel assumptio 
 semper est iieg-ata. Uiide cum ncfjata etiam conclusio 
 semper necessario sit, sequitur, bujus speciei modos 
 omnes iiegatos esse, et negatas duntaxat qusestiones 
 bac specie concludi, quee omnia in rcf'utationibus est 
 posita. 
 
 Modi hujus syllogismi sex sunt ; et omnes quideni, 
 ut diximus, negati ; duo generales, duo speciales, duo 
 proprii. 
 
 Geiieralis primus, cujus propositio negatur : " Tur- 
 batus non ben^ utitur ratione : sapiens bene utitur ra- 
 tione; sapiens igitur non est turbatus." Hoc exem- 
 plum in sua crypsi sic apud Ciceronem est, 3 Tuscul. 
 " Queniadmodum oculus conturbatus non est probe 
 affectus ad siium niunus fungcndum, et rcliquee partes 
 totumqiie corpus a statu cum est motum, deest officio 
 iuo ac muneri ; sic conturbatus animus non est probe 
 affectus ad exequendum munus suum. Munus autem 
 animi est ratione uti : et sapientis animus ita semper 
 affectus est, ut ratione optime utatur; nunquam igitur 
 est perturbatus." Crypsis hie unica redundantia est : 
 nam ordo partium rectus est, nee ulla pars deest : pro- 
 syllogismus unus est propositionis : illustratur enim 
 propositio similitudine plena, cujus redditio est ipsius 
 propositionis sententia. 
 
 Generalis secundus, cujus assumptio negatur : " Res 
 mortalis est composita : animus non est compositus ; 
 animus igitur non est mortalis." Hie syllogismus 
 crypsi involutus est apud Cic. 1 Tuscul. quo is judical 
 aninium inimortalem esse. "In animi autem cogni- 
 tioiie," inquit, "dubitare non possumus, nisi forte in 
 physicis plumbei sumus, quin nihil sit animis admix- 
 tuni, nihil concretum, nihil coagmentatum, nihil du- 
 plex. Quod cum ita sit, certe nee secerni, nee dividi, 
 nee disccrpi, nee distrahi potest ; nee intcrire igitur : 
 est enim interitus quasi discessus etsecretio ac diremp- 
 tus earum partium quae ante interitum junctione aliqua 
 tenebantur." In hoc exemplo partium ordo invertitur: 
 nam postremo in loco propositionis sententia ponitur, 
 interitum esse scilicet rerum compositarum, assumptio 
 occurrit prima, " in animi autem cognilione," <Scc. Et 
 ornatur synonymis: conclusio media est atquea causa 
 illustratur, " ergo nee secerni, &c., nee interire igitur." 
 
 Specialis primus est, cujus propositio negatur: "li- 
 vidus non est magnanimus, Maximus est: Maximus 
 igitur non est lividus." Hoc judicio Ovidius3 de Pont, 
 eleg. 3, concludit. 
 
 "Liver, iners vitium, mores non exit in altos ; 
 
 Utque latens ima vipera serpit humo. 
 Mens tua subhmis supra genus eniinet ipsum. 
 
 Grandius ingenio nee tibi nomen inest. 
 Ergo, alii noceant, miseris, optentque timeri, 
 
 'I'inclaqne mordaci spicula felle gerant. 
 At tua supplicibiis doinns est assueta juvandis ; 
 
 In quorum numero me precor esse velis," 
 
 Hujus etiam exempli crypsis redundantia sola est : 
 propositio suos habet prosyllogismos, et livor pro livido 
 ponitur, adjunctum pro subjecto ; et illustratur a con- 
 
 trario abjecto ; isque a simili, "vipera:" assumptio, 
 i. e. Maximi magnanimitas, illustratur partim a niinori 
 totius generis magnanimitate, partim k notatione no- 
 minis ejus, i. e. Maximi ; cujus parem esse animi mag- 
 nitudinem dcmonstrat: conclusio negat Maximum esse 
 lividum, partim quia dissimilis sit lividorum, quos de- 
 scribit ab effectis, "ergo alii noceant," &c. ; partim, 
 quia ipse faciat quee magnanimus consuevit, qui dis- 
 paratus a livido est; " at tua supplicibus," bcc. 
 
 Specialis secundus est, eiyus assumptio negatur: 
 "saltator est luxuriosus: Muroena non est luxuriosus; 
 Murffina igitur non est saltator." Cic. pro Murten. 
 " Nemo enim fer^ saltat sobrius, nisi forte insanct : ne- 
 que in solitudine ncque in convivio moderato atque 
 honesto. Intempestivi convivii, amcBui loci, mullarum 
 deliciarum comes est extrema saltatio. Tu mihi arripis 
 id quod necesse est omnium viliorum esse postremum : 
 relinquis ilia quibus remotis, hoc vitium omnino esse 
 non potest: nullum turpe convivium, non amor, non 
 comessatio, non libido, non sumptusostenditur : etciim 
 ea non reperiantur quae voluptatis nomen habent, 
 quseque vitiosa sunt, in quo ipsam luxuriam reperire 
 non potes, in eo te umbram luxurise reperturum putas?" 
 Hujus etiam syllogismi partes prosyllogismis exornan- 
 tur. Propositionis sententia his verbis continelur, " in- 
 tempestivi convivii," &c., quam prosyllogismus proece- 
 dens illustrat a contrariis, " nemo fere saltat sobrius," 
 &c; assumptio per partes explicatur, "nullum turpe 
 convivium," &c., eta minoribus quibusdam illustratur: 
 cujus etiam prosyllogismus prsecedit, reprehensio nempe 
 Catonis, quod postularet consequens, non probato ante- 
 cedente : postremo loco ponitur conclusio, quse negat 
 Muroenara esse saltatorem repetendo qutedam quae in 
 assumptione proecesserant ; et interrogatione fortius 
 negando. 
 
 Hoc judicii modo Ovidius 1 Trist. eleg. 1, tripliciter 
 concludit dum carminum suorum excusationem expo- 
 nit : 
 
 " Carmina proveniunt animo deducta serene ; 
 
 Nubila sunt subitis tempera nostra mahs. 
 Carmina secessum scribentis et otia qnaerunt. 
 
 Me mare, meventi, me ferajactat hyems. 
 Carminibus metus omnis abest ; ego perditus ensem 
 
 Hsesurum jugulo jam puto jamque meo. 
 Hic quoque quse facie, judex mirabitur aiquus ; 
 
 Scriptaque cum venia qualiacunque leget." 
 
 Tres hie syllogismi sunt qui in unum sic reduci pos- 
 siint : " Ut quis j)ossit carmina bona scribere, oportet is 
 Itetus sit, otiosus, securus : ego nee hetus sum, nee 
 otiosus, nee securus ; ergo bona carmina non scribo." 
 Pro assumptionibus prosyllogismi a dissentaneis et im- 
 pedientibus causis ponuntur. Delude conclusio sequi- 
 tur, non ipsa quidem sed ejus eonseetariiim ; mirum 
 esse si bona sunt ; sed potius cum venia esse legenda, 
 quia non sunt bona. 
 
 Proprius primus est, cujus propositio negatur; ut, 
 " Agesilaus non est pictus ab Apelle : Alexander est 
 pictus ab Apell6 ; Alexander igitur non est Agesilaus." 
 
 Proprius secundus est, cujus assumptio negatur : ut 
 " Cuesar oppressit patriam : Tullius non oppressit pa- 
 triam ; ergo Tullius non est Cassar." 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 907 
 
 I Sophismata hie duo sunt : quorum unum utrique 
 i explicati speciei commune est, alterum primse specie! 
 I proprium. Commune est, cum propositio est particu- 
 j iaris ; quae ex communi explicatorum rejjula generalis 
 
 aut propria esse debiiit. 
 , Sophisma prima speciei proprium est, ciim argrumen- 
 \ turn tertium in altera parte antecedentis non negatiir, 
 1 ut definitio primjE speciei praccipit : unde illud vulffo 
 
 dictum, Ex duabiis affirmatis in secunda fig-ura, nihil 
 I concluditur. Excipiendum tamen est, si propositio 
 j fort^ axioma reciprocum sit : ut, " homo est animal 
   rationale : Socrates est animal rationale ; ergo Socrates 
 ! est homo." Veriim hie potius inversio partium propo- 
 I sitionis intellig'enda est; " animal rationale est homo:" 
 
 atque ita ad sequentem speciem syllogismi refere- 
 
 tur. 
 
 CAP. XII. 
 
 De Secunda Specie Syllogismi simplicis explicati. 
 
 " Secunda species explicati syllog'ismi est, quando 
 argumentum antecedit in propositione, seqiiitur affirma- 
 tum in assumptione." 
 
 Usee species ah Aristotele, "prima fig-ura" dicitur; 
 sed naturie ordine est postrcma. Cum enim in reli- 
 quis speciebus disposilio questionis cum argumento 
 tertio simplex et uniusmodi sit, in hac specie duplex 
 est; in propositione enim argumentum antecedit qutes- 
 tionis coMsequentem, utpote spccialius; in assumptione 
 sequittir qiufstionis antecedentem, utpote gcneralius ; 
 unde forte medius terminus in hac solum tigura pro- 
 prie dicitur. Quod autem propositio nunquam particu- 
 laris, cunclusio semper antecedenti similis aut parti 
 debiliori est, id habet commune cum expiicata specie 
 priore ; hoc etiam cum contracta, afiirmatum esse in 
 assumptione; nisi in contracta, qurestionis antecedens 
 ut generalius de argumento ; in hac, argumentum de 
 antecedcnte qu;Bstionis affirmatur. 
 
 Hcec maxime figura fundatur dicto illo " de omni et 
 nuUo :" antecedens enim sive subjectum propositionis 
 continet genus, adeoqne est semper generalis, subjec- 
 tum assumptionis continet speciem quoe de illo genere 
 afRrmata. Assumptio itaque semper esse debet affirma- 
 ta. Ex quo sequitur, quicquid de genere in propositi- 
 one dicitur, id de eo quod in assumptione species esse 
 illius generis alfirmatur, in conclusione rectissime con- 
 cludi. Quod si genus illud subjectum scil. propositio- 
 nis termino infinito negante, sen topice confradictorio 
 exprimitur, non negata continue censendaerit assump- 
 tio quamvis esse videatur ; assumit n. tantummodo 
 genus ex propositione termino illo topice duntaxat 
 contradictorio expressum, ipsa nihil axiomatice negat: 
 ut, " quisquis non credit, damnatur: aliquis Judseus 
 nou credit ; ergo aliquis Judaeus damnatur." Hie pro- 
 positionis subjectum est genus " quisquis non credit," 
 i. e. omnis non credens sive infidelis : Judeeus est ex 
 numero sive specie non credentium, id quod assumptio 
 
 non negat, sed affirmat oeque acsi sic diceret, " aliquis 
 Judaeus est non credens." 
 
 Ex hac autem affirmatione sequitur, nullum argu- 
 mentum ab antecedente quyestionis dissentaneum, in 
 hac secunda specie locum habere. De caetero, hsec spe- 
 cies neque ad particulares quttstiones, ut contracta, 
 neque ad negatas, ut prior species explicati, restringi- 
 tur ; sed ad omnia qusestionum genera concludenda 
 recte adhibetur. 
 
 Restant huj us speciei modi; qui quanquam partim 
 affirmati sunt partim negati, plures tamen non sunt 
 quam in altera specie, ubi onines erant solum negati. 
 ^Equalitatis ratio est quod assumptionis affirmatio, et 
 solius inde propositionis negatio negatorum numerum 
 minuit. Modi igitur hujus speciei sex itidem sunt; 
 tres affirmati, tres item negati ; utrique rursum sunt 
 generales, speciales, et proprii. 
 
 Primus est affirmatus generalis : ut, " omne justum 
 est utile; omne bonestum est justum, omne igitur ho- 
 nestum est utile." Quod Cic. 2 Off. ita concludit: 
 " quicquid justum sit, id etiam utile esse censent : item 
 quod bonestum, idem justum : ex quo efficitur, ut quic- 
 quid honestum sit, idem sit utile." Propositionis pro- 
 syllogismiis a testimonio Stoicorum primo in loco poni- 
 tur, deinde omnes partes ordine sequuntur. Partes iuijus 
 syllogismi sunt axiomata relatot essentite, qute simpli- 
 cium axiomatum vim habent. 
 
 Secundus modus est negatus generalis: " Timidus 
 non est liber: avarus est timidus; avarus itaque non 
 est liber." Hoc ita concluditur et judicatur ab Horatio, 
 epist. 1. 1, 16 : 
 
 " Quo melior servo, quo liberior sit avarus. 
 In triviis fixum, cum se demittit ob assem, 
 Non video. Nam qui cupiet, metuet quoque : porro 
 Qui iiietuens vivit, liber mihi non erit unqnam." 
 
 In hoc exemplo duplex est crypsis, inversio partium 
 et prosjdlogismus. Primo in loco ponitur conclusio, 
 eaque duabus prosyllogismis illustratur; primo a pari, 
 quod " avarus" non " sit liberior servo :" secundo ab 
 effectis, quod " se demittit ob assem." Tum ponitur 
 assumptio " qui cupiet, metuet quoque." Propositio 
 postremo in loco ponitur, 
 
 " Qui nietuens vivit, liber mibi non erit unquam." 
 
 Sic Terent. in Eunuch, concludit et judicat: " con- 
 silii expers, consilio regi non potest : amor est consilii 
 expers; consilio itaque regi non potest." Syllogisraus 
 his verbis sequitur: 
 
 " Here, qujc res in se neque consilium neque modum 
 Habet ullum, earn consilio regere non potes. 
 In amore haec omnia insunt vitia; injuriae, 
 Suspiciones, inimicitije, indncife, 
 Bellum, pax rursum : incerta haec si tu postules 
 Ratione certfl facere, nihilo plus agas, 
 Quam si des operam, ut cum ratione insanias." 
 
 In hoc exemplo propositio suo loco est " quae res in 
 se, &c." Pro assumptione ponitur ejus prosyllogismus 
 variorum amorisadjunctorum quae consilium impediunt; 
 amor consilii expers est, " quia in amore heec insunt 
 vitia, &c." Conclusio sequitur " incerta haec, &c." Cu- 
 
906 
 
 ARTIS L0GICJ3 PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 jus scntentia compantlione pariutn comprelienditur, 
 ergo si aniorem consiliu reg'cre vis, " nihilo plus," &c. 
 
 Tertius modus est affirmatus specialis : " Consules 
 propter virtutem facti, studinse remp. tueri dcbcnt : 
 Cicero est i)ropter virtutem factus consul ; Cicero igitur 
 studiose remp. tueri debet." Sic orator diligeutiam 
 suam, Agr. 2, concludit et judicat: " Nam cum om- 
 nium consulum," ait, " gravis in repub. custodienda, 
 cura ac diligentia debet esse, turn corura maxime, qui 
 Hon in incunabulis, sed in campo sunt consules facti. 
 Nuili populo Rom. pro me majores noslri sposponde- 
 nint niibi creditum est: a. me petere quod dcbeo, me 
 ipsum appcllare debetis. Quemadmodum cum petc- 
 bam, nulli me auctores generis mci vobis commenda- 
 runt: sic siquid deliquero, nullae sunt imagines, quae 
 me a vobis deprecentur. Quare modo ut vita sup- 
 petat (quanquam ego sum is qui eam possim ab isto- 
 rura scelere insidiisque defendere) polliceor vobis, Qui- 
 rites, bona fide, remp. vigilanti homini, non timido, 
 diligenti, j»on ignavo, commisistis." Partes hujus 
 syllogismi prosjUogismis ornantur. Propositio a mi- 
 iiori illustratur: cujus sententiaest comparationis rcd- 
 ditio, diversis illustrata: " nam cum omnium consulum 
 gravis, &c. turn eorum maxime:" diversa sunt, " non 
 in incunabulis, sed in campo." Assumptio sequitur, 
 " nulli populi Rom. &c.," quae iisdem rursus diversis 
 illustratur, et a siraili; meis, non majorum meritis ; in 
 campo, non in incunabulis: similitudo bis verbis con- 
 tinetur; "quemadmodum cinn petebam, &c." Tan- 
 dem conclusionis sententia sequitur illustrata, primiim 
 testimonio promissi, obligationis vim habentis, " polli- 
 ceor, &c. ;" deinde diverso et disparate ; " quare 
 modo, &c." Ergo Cicero erit vigilans, non tiroidus; 
 diligens, non ignavus. 
 
 Aliud exemplum : " quod optatum redierit, gratum 
 est: Lcsbia Catullo optata rediit; grata igitur est." 
 
 " Si quicquam cupidoqne optantique obtigit unquam et 
 
 Insperanti, hon gratum est animo propria. 
 Quare hoc est gratum, nobis quoque charius auro. 
 
 Quod te restituis, Lcsbia, mi cupido. 
 Restituis cupido atque insperanti ipsa refers te 
 
 Nobis; 6 lucem candidiorenota! 
 Quis me uno \'ivit fclicior, aut magis hac quid 
 
 Optandum vita dicere quis poterit ? " 
 
 In hoc exemplo propositio videtur esse composita, 
 simplex tamen est, et sjllogismus simplex ; quia sim- 
 plex est dispositio argumenti cum partibus qusestionis. 
 Duplex hie crjpsis est, reversio et redundantia. Prinio 
 loco est propositio "si quicquam cupido, jScc." i.e. quic- 
 quid cupido; " si" enim non semper connexi nota est. 
 Assumptio est in quarto et quinto versa, Lesbia Catullo 
 optata rediit. Conclusio est versu tertio illustrata a 
 minori, " quare hoc est gratum et auro charius." Tri- 
 bus postremis versibus iteratur sententia conclusionis, 
 primum ab adjuncto tempore, "5 lucem:" deinde a 
 pari, " nemo me fclicior, aut magis hac quid, Sec." 
 
 Quartus modus est negatus specialis : " deceptor 
 amantis puellae non est laudandus: Demophoon est 
 deceptor amantis puelloe ; Demophoon igitur non est 
 laudandus." Phyllis apud Ovidium ita judicat Demo- 
 phoontem laudandum non esse. 
 
 " Fallere credentem non est opcrosa puellam 
 Gloria : simplicitas digna favore fuit. 
 Sum deccpta tuis et amans et fcemina verbis ; 
 Dii faciant laudis summa sit ista tua;." 
 
 Propositio suum obtinet locum cum prosjllogismo 
 adjunctie simplicitatis, ut causa; cur deceptor non sit 
 laudandus. Assumptio sequitur, sum " decepta tuis," 
 &c. Conclusionis sententia imprecatione continctur, 
 " dii faciant, &c." 
 
 Quintus modus est affirmatus proprius: ut, " Octa- 
 vius est haeres Coesaris : ego sum Octavius ; sum igitur 
 haeres Caesaris." 
 
 Sextus modus est negatus proprius: ut, " Antonius 
 non est filius Caesaris: tu es Antonius; non es igitur 
 filius Caesaris." 
 
 Hujus itaque specie! laus est proe caeteris, quod om- 
 nia quirstionum genera concludat ; nempe generales, 
 speciales, vel proprias,easquevel affirmatasvel negatas; 
 et praesertim generales affirmatas : ob quam potis- 
 simum causam Aristoteles speciem banc et reliquis an- 
 teposuit, quod primus ejus modus nempe " affirmatus 
 generalis" sit maxime scientificus, post. I. 11, cum 
 praecepta artium solus demonstret, et reductionem 
 reliquarum ad banc figuram sive speciem laboriose 
 et subtiliter excogitavit, veruni non sic proestat hoec 
 species cteteris duabus, ut earum idcirco ad banc re- 
 ductio cum tantaut sit, alphabcti vexatione elaboranda 
 fuerit, quandoqnidem et reliquae species non imperfectaej 
 sunt, nee minus necessario concludunt, id enim sjllo-j 
 gismi speciebus commune cunctis est, qusestiones de- 
 nique illas, quae ad ipsarum judicium recte referun- 
 tur, interdum aptius concludunt, quam in hac specie - 
 concludi queunt. Merito itaque Galenus, 1. 2, de| 
 placit. Hippoc. et Plat, reductionem banc omnemque 
 ejus supellectilem abecedariam tanquam vanissimee 
 subtilitatis doctrinam inanem ac futilem post Autipa- 
 trum et Chrjsippum explodit. Et Keckerraannus ipse, 
 in P. Ramum fere iniquior, reductionem tamen illam 
 quam vocant " per impossibile," ad cos duntaxat refu- 
 tandos inventam, homines sane absurdos et raro admo- 
 dum repertos, qui utraque proeniissa concessa, conclu- J 
 sionem negent, fatetur sc potius propter consuetudinem i 
 scholarum, quam propter magnum ejus usum retinuisse. 
 At consuetudo certe gnaviter nugandi ejicienda e 
 scholis potius, quam retinenda erat. 
 
 Trcs hie paralogismi rcfellendi sunt; quorum duo 
 sunt utrique speciei cxplicataR communes, propositio 
 nimirum particularis, et conclusio partis non dcbilioris : 
 utriusque exemplum hoc esse potest: "quoddara 
 animal est rationale : bestia est animal ; ergo bestia est 
 rationalis." Et practerea totum medium, nempe 
 " quoddam animal," non assumitur. 
 
 Proprius in hac specie paralogismus est argumenti 
 negatio in assumptionc : ut, " omnis homo est animal : 
 equus non est homo ; ergo cquus non est animal." 
 
 Hie etiam "solus et unicus" pro nogandi particulis 
 habendi sunt; pariterque reddunt assuniptionem cap- 
 tiosam: ut, " quicquid est in mea domo, est in oppido: 
 unicus fons est in mea domo; ergo unicus fons est in 
 oppido." Sic, " quicquid est risibile, est animal : solus 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 909 
 
 homo est risibilis: ergo solus homo esi animal." Tam 
 eiiim liae particulae quam negatio in niinore, ostendunt 
 nun reciprocum esse majorem ; adeoque conclusionem 
 ex majore per minorem, vel gencrale ex proprio non 
 sequi. 
 
 Expendcnda porro hie definitionis verba sunt; quae 
 non tarn assnmptionem ipsam quam arg'umentum in 
 assumptione affirniatum significant. Cum enim pro- 
 positionis antcccdens (quod tertium argumentum est) 
 negatione infinita topicaduntaxat exprimatur, assump- 
 tionis consequens (quod etiam tertium argumentum est) 
 eandem negationem retinere debet; alioqui non se- 
 queretur argumentum afiirmatum in assumptione, sed 
 contradictione sublatuni. Negatio autem htec non 
 dicenda est vel assumptionis vel argumenti negatio, sed 
 argument! infiiiiti affirmatio: tum enim demum nega- 
 tur in assumptione argumentum, cum illius negatio 
 propositionis aflirmationi opponitur. Exempli gratia: 
 " qui non est dives, contemnitur. Posthumus non est 
 dives; ergo Posthumus contemnitur." Assumptionem 
 hie non negari probat affirmatio conclusionis: sed 
 perindc est acsi hoc modo argumcntaretur : " omnis 
 homo qui non est dives, contemnitur : Posthumus est 
 homo qui non est dives; ergo Posthumus contemni- 
 tur." Vel hoc modo: "omnis non dives contemnitur: 
 Posthumus est non dives ; ergo contemnitur." Sed hoec 
 ex iis etiam quae supra ad dcfinitionera ipsam hujus 
 speciei diximus, puto non esse obscura. 
 
 Prietcrea in quibusdam cxemplis, quorum propositio 
 est reciproca, videtur interdum syllogismus iste habere 
 assumptionem negatam ; cum dicendura sit potius, 
 partes propositionis invert!, qute si in ordinem revocen- 
 tnr, syllogismus erit in prima specie explicati : ut, 
 "Joan. 8, 47. Qui ex Deo est, verba Dei audit: vos 
 ex Deo non estis ; ergo verba Dei non auditis." Pro- 
 positio invertenda est : "qui verba Dei audit, is ex Deo 
 est : vos non estis ex Deo ; ergo verba Dei non auditis." 
 
 CAP. XIII. 
 
 De Syllogismo connexo primo. 
 Adintc simplex Syllogismus fuit. 
 
 " Syllogismus compositus est syllogismus ubi tota 
 qua'stio est pars altera propositionis affirmatie et com- 
 positte ; argumentum est pars reliqua." 
 
 Negat Aristoteles ullam esse syllogisrai speciem prce- 
 ter tres figuras ; et tamen ipse ssspe utitur composito, 
 qui ad nullam ex tribus figuris referri potest: Verura 
 usus, optimus magister docet, saepius in communi ho- 
 minum sermone ac disputationibus, compositos adhi- 
 beri syllogismos, quam simplices : ut qui multas qua-s- 
 tiones, multa argumenta commode satis disponant, quae 
 syllogismi simplices respuunt. Theophrastus etiam et 
 Eudcmus, Aristotelisdiscipuli, quin etiam Stoici, et post 
 eos Cicero et Boethius, usum praeceptorem secuti, com- 
 positos non omiserunt. Syllogismus autcm compositus 
 
 dicitur non tam quod ex compositis axiomatis, nam et 
 simplex potest ex compositis, nimirum relatis constare, 
 sed a composita dispositione quoestionis totius cum tertio 
 argumento in propositione ; unde assuniptio tota etiam 
 assumitur ; et conclusio non partim ex propositione 
 partira ex assumptione, sed tota ex propositione dedu- 
 citur: propositio enim cCimsit composita, duas reliquas 
 syllogismi partes (quae axioniata simplicia sunt) con- 
 junctionis vinculo conjunctas complectitur : pars ilia 
 efficit assumptionem quas argumentum continet, altera 
 conclusionem. Propositio autem debet esse affirmata, 
 quia ncgata si esset, composita esse desineret, ipsa enim 
 compositio negatione dissolveretur. Propositionem 
 autem negatam efficit, ut de axiomate composito supra 
 dictum est, non partium sed conjunctionis negatio : ut, 
 " si non est animal, non est homo ;" haec propositio 
 ex omnibus etiam partibus negatis affirmata est; recte 
 igitur inde assumitur atque concluditur, " at non est 
 animal, ergo neque homo." Sin hoc modo dicerem, 
 " non si non est animal, idcirco non est homo," ex hac 
 negata propositione nihil omuino deduci aut concludi 
 posset. In syllogismis itaque compositis ex ipsa con- 
 junctionis vi dcducuntur assumptio et concltisio. Ex 
 duobusenim quae propositione conjunguntur, aut ununi 
 assumitur ut alterum concludatur, aut unum tollitur ut 
 altcrum tollatur. 
 
 " Tollere autem in syllogismo composito, non est 
 negare, sed specialem contradictionem ponere " 
 
 Specialis autem contradictio, ut in axiomate simplici 
 jam diximus, particularis est aut propria. Tollere 
 igitur propositionis partem aliquam in assumptione 
 aut conclusione, est ejus contradictionem particularcni 
 aut propriam ponere. Particulari autcm generaliter 
 contradici, generali particularitcr, ibidem etiam do- 
 cemur. Exemplis rem planam suo quamque loco 
 faciemus. 
 
 Sequitur nunc compositi syllogismi*'distributio: cu- 
 jus genera ex propositionum compositione oriuntur: 
 propositiones axiomata composita semper sunt : ex 
 quatuor autem axiomatum compositorum generibus 
 copulatum si affirmatum sit, non habet locum in com- 
 posito syllogismo; si negatum, oequipollet interdum 
 disjuncto : discretura syllogismi expers est, quia di- 
 versa ex quibus constat, nee plane consentiunt, et 
 tamen ita leviter dissentiunt, ut uno posito vel remoto, 
 non tamen sequatur alterum poni vel removeri ; aut 
 vim habet connexi. 
 
 " Syllogismus itaque compositus est connexus aut 
 disjunctus." 
 
 " Syllogismus connexus est syllogismus compositus 
 propositionis connexae." Vel cujus propositio est a.x- 
 ioma connexum. 
 
 Cum autem axiomati connexo affine sit relatum 
 temporis, ut ibidem ostendimus, etiam syllogismi con- 
 nexi propositio poterit relata esse temporis : nam quan- 
 titatis, qualitatis, loci propositiones relatse in simplici- 
 bus syllogismis locum habent; qui in iis propositioni- 
 bus quaestionis duntaxat consequens cum argumento 
 disponitur. Relatum denique consequentiae, de quo 
 supra cap. 6, syllogismus idoneus non est. 
 
 " Syllogismus connexus est duorum modorum. 
 
910 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 " Primus modus syllogismi cunnexi est, qui assumit 
 antecedeiis et consequcns coiicludit." 
 
 Quo modo Cicero judical et concludit 1. 2, de divi- 
 natioiie : "si dii sunt, divinatio est: sunt autcm dii; 
 divinatio est ig-itiir." 
 
 Aliud ex 3, Olfic. " Atque si etiam hoc natura pnc- 
 scribit, ut homo homini, quicunque sit, ob eaui ipsam 
 causam, quod is homo sit, consultum vclit, necesse est 
 secundum eandem naturam, omnium utilitatem esse 
 communem. Quod si ita est, una continemur omnes 
 et eadem lege naturae. Idque ipsum si ita est, certe 
 violare alterum lefje naturas prohibemur. Veruni 
 autcm primum ; verum ig-itur et extremum." 
 
 Propositio hujus syllotjismi est sorites (de quo infra) 
 trium graduum, " si hoc natura prtescribit, ut, &c." 
 
 •' Frequenter hie non assumitur idem sed majus." 
 
 Ut 1 Catil. " Si te parentes odissent, discederes: 
 nunc patria te odit (qute communis est omnium nos- 
 trum parens) multo magis ergo discedes." Sed " ma- 
 jus illud " facile contineri in propositione poterit hoc 
 modo ; si propter odium parentum discederes, multo 
 magis propter odium patrioe. " At illud ; ergo hoc 
 multo magis." 
 
 Simili ratione concluditur etiam majus vel minus: 
 ut Cic. pro Quint. " Etsi vadimonium deseruisset, non 
 debuisses tamen ad extrema jura descendere:'' at non 
 deseruit ; multo minus ergo debuisti, vel multo magis 
 non debuisti. 
 
 " Coucludendi modus," ut snpradiximus, " hie idem 
 est quando propositio est relata temporis." 
 
 Ut, " cum Paris (Enonem deseret, Xanthusrecurrit; 
 Paris CEnonem deseret ; Xanthus ergo recurrit." 
 
 Sed tamen relata temporis ut et reliqua axiomata 
 composita, id quod supra monuimus, ad syllogismum 
 simplicem pertinebunt quoties non totaqutpstio in pro- 
 positione disponitur: quod quidem semper fit, cum de 
 certo et dcfinito tempore qiiiestio est: ut si quaeratur 
 an hoc tempore sit aestas, hujusmodi erit syllogismus : 
 " cum sol est in Cancro, testas est : at hoc tempore sol 
 est in Cancro ; ergo hoc tempore cestas est." 
 
 CAP. XIV. 
 
 De. Syllogismo cotinexo secundo. 
 
 " Secundus modus connexi tollit consequens, ut 
 tollat antecedens." 
 
 HiEc enim vis connexi axiomatis est, si consequens 
 non sit, nee esse antecedens. Sic Cicero 4 de Fin., 
 " docent nos," inquit, " dialectici, &c. Si illud, hoc: 
 non autem hoc; igitur nc ilhid quidem." 
 
 Sequuntur exempli : "si ulli rei sapiens assentietur 
 unquani, aliquando etiam opinabitur: nunquam autcm 
 opinabitur ; nulli igitur rei assentietur." Hie conse- 
 quens contradictione speciali in assumptione tollitur, 
 *' aliquando, nunquam;" conclusio etiam antecedent! 
 spccialiter contradicit ; " ulli rei, uulli rei." 
 
 Eodem syllogismo Ovid. 2 de Trist. stultitiam suam 
 judicat : 
 
 " Si saperem doctas odissem jure sorores, 
 
 Numina cultori pemiciosa sue. 
 At nunc (tanta meo comes est insania inorbo) 
 
 Saxa memor refero rursus ad iota pedem." 
 
 Propositio est, " si saperem, Musas odissem :" cujus 
 prosyllogismus est ah adjuncta pernicic. Assumptio, 
 at non odi; qute a simili exprimitur, " at nunc saxa 
 memor, &c.," ergo non siipio : cujus conclusionis sen- 
 tentia in parenthesi est ; " tanta meo, &c." Atque in 
 hoc exemplo est contradictio propria. 
 
 " Hae du(B syllogismi species sunt omnium usitatis- 
 simoe." 
 
 Non enim ea solum argumenta quae in simplicibus 
 et disjunctis sjUogismis disponi non possunt, in con- 
 nexis facile disponuntur, sed etiam ex iis quce possunt 
 aliis formis concludi, multa in his speciebus facilius et 
 promptius concluduntur : immo nullum omnino argu- 
 mentum, quod in sjllogismum usum habet, has con- 
 nexi species respuit. 
 
 Proeter hos duos connexi syllogisnii modos nonnuUi 
 duos alios adjiciunt; quorum prior tollit antecedens ut 
 tollat consequens, posterior assumit consequens ut con- 
 cludat antecedens. In quos modos etsi communis fort6 
 sermo, boni etiam authores noununquam incidunt, ta- 
 men cum in sjllogismo non Veritas partium sed neces- 
 sitas consequentioe spectetur, tenendum est, vitiosos esse 
 eos modos qui ex veris verum juxta et faisum possunt 
 concludere. Prior ergo hie modus qui tollit antecedens 
 est prioris legitimi modi paralogism us, affiuis negatae 
 assumption! in secunda specie explicati : ut, " si homo 
 est leo, sentit : non est leo ; ergo non sentit." Et hoc : 
 '' si Dio est equus, est animal : at non est equus ; ergo 
 non est animal. Si orator est, homo est : non est orator; 
 ergo nee homo." Hoc si sic resolvas in secundam spc- 
 ciem explicati, " omnis orator est homo," fallacia pate- 
 bit. Immo sine ista reductione per se etiam patet:| 
 tollit enim antecedens, quod minus est, ut tollat con- 
 sequens, quod majus est: a minore autem ad majus 
 nulla est hujusmodi consequentia. 
 
 Modus posterior, qui assumit consequens ut conclu- 
 dat antecedens, est captio posterioris legitimi modi, 
 aflinis paralogismo ex omnibus afBrmatis in prima 
 specie explicati : ut, " si homo est leo, sentit : at sen- 
 tit; ergo est leo." Utrumque hunc paralogismum Aris- 
 toteles appellat fallaciam consequcntis; quoe toties fit 
 quoties propositio non est reciproca. 
 
 Sed est etiam aliud sophisma secundi modi, cum as- 
 sumptio non tollit contradictione speciali ; id est, quando 
 consequenti vel generali generaliter, vel particular! 
 particulariter contradicit. Generalis contradictionis 
 exemplum est, " si onine animal est irrationale, omnis 
 etiam homo est irrationalis : at nullus homo est irra- 
 tionalis: nullum ergo animal est irrationale." Parli- 
 cularis hoc: " si homo est rationalis, aliquod animal est 
 rationale : sed aliquod animal non est rationale ; ergo 
 nee homo." 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 911 
 
 CAR XV. 
 
 De Syllogismo disjnncto prima. 
 
 " Syllogismus disjunctus est sjllogismus composi- 
 tus propositionis disjunctae. 
 
 " Modi dtio sunt." Sic etiam Cic. in Top. et Stoici 
 apud Laertium. 
 
 " Primus toUit inium, et reliquum concliidit. 
 
 " Ut, aut dies est, aut nox: atdiesnon est; ergo nox 
 est. Vel, nox non est; dies ergo est." 
 
 Ciceronis pro Cluentio judicium tale est: " sed cum 
 esset hcec illi proposita conditio, ut aut just^pieque ac- 
 cusaret, aut accrbe indigneque moreretur ; accusare 
 quoquo modo posset, quam illo modo mori maluit." 
 Disjunctio clarior sic erit: " aut accusandum aut mo- 
 riendum : non moriendum; accusandum igitur." In 
 hoc exemplo, ut est apud Cic, est partium inversio, to- 
 tusque syllogismus in axiomate relato consequentite 
 involvitur. Proposilio non est absolute vera, sed ex 
 conditione. Assumptio et conclusio per comparationem 
 minoris ponuntur; ita, ut conclusio praecedat. 
 
 Sic idem 2 Phil, ratiocinatur : "nunquamne intel- 
 liges tibi statuendum esse, utrum illi qui islam rem 
 gesserunt, homicidse sint an vindices libertatis.^ At- 
 tende, &c. Nego quicquam esse medium. Confiteor 
 illos nisi liberatores populi Rom. conservatoresquc reip. 
 sint, plus qu^m sicarios, plus quam liomicidas, plus 
 quam parricidas esse: siquidem est atrocius patrise pa- 
 rentem, &c. Si parricidae, cur nonoris causa a te sunt 
 ct in hoc ordine et apud populum Rom. semper appel- 
 lati .'' Cur, &c. Atque hoec acta per te. Non igitur 
 honiicidie. Sequitur ut liberatores tuo judicio sint; 
 quandoquidem tertium nihil potest esse." Quaestio bic 
 proponitur initio de Caesaris interfectoribus, " utrum," 
 &c. Propositio proponitur axiomate connexo, " confi- 
 teor illos nisi," &c., quod aequipollet disjuncto; "aut 
 vindices sunt libertatis aut plusquam homicidte : " il- 
 lustralur enim ea pars disjunctionis a majori : et prse- 
 cedit prosyllogismus, quo ostenditur disjunctionem 
 hanc esse sine medio, et proinde necessariam. Assump- 
 tio sequitur, " non sunt bomicidce ; " idque confirmatur 
 prosyllogismo k testimonio et factis ipsius Antonii. 
 Prosyllogismus concluditur in secundo connexo, si par- 
 ricidse, cur, &c. ? " at haec acta per te ; non igitur ho- 
 micidse." Conclusio denique sequitur, " ut liberatores 
 fuerint; " idque repetito propositionis prosyllogismo 
 confirmatur, " quandoquidem tertium sive medium ni- 
 hil potest esse." 
 
 " Si partes disjunctoe propositionis sint duabus plures, 
 judicandi concludendique ars erit eadem." 
 
 Quamvis autem disjunctionis partes esse possint 
 scepenumero plures quam duae, id quod in disparatis 
 accidit, ipsius tamen propositionis duae tantummodo 
 partes sunt; quarum una est quaestio, altera est argu- 
 mentum. In hoc modo ubi qurestio semper concludi- 
 tur, tertium argumentum plura opposita comprehendit, 
 quae omnia in assumptioue tollenda sunt, ut quaestio 
 concludatur : nam oppositorum plura simul affirmari 
 ncqueunt, negari plura simul queunt. 
 
 Sic Cic. judicat *' Rabirium cum consulibus esse 
 oportuisse. Aut enim cum consulibus, aut cum scdi- 
 tiosis, aut latuisse : at nee cum seditiosis fuisse, ncc 
 latuisse ; fuisse ergo cum consulibus. Pro Rabir. At- 
 qui videmus ait haec in rerum natura tria fuisse, ut aut 
 cum Saturnino esset, aut cum bonis, aut lateret. Latere 
 autem, mortis erat instar turpissimac : cum Saturnino 
 esse, furoris et sceleris ; virtus et honestas et pudor cum 
 coss. esse cogebat." Propositio per se clara est. As- 
 sumptionis partes prosyllogismis illustrantur, prinio a 
 simili, deinde ab adjunctis. Conclusio prosyllogismo 
 ab efficiente illustratur. 
 
 Notandum est in hoc modo non ita exigi specialem 
 contradictionem, ut in reliquis ; neque enim ad conse- 
 quentiae necessitatem pertinet in hoc modo, ut in reli- 
 quis, sed ad .issumptionis solius veritatem. Si ergo 
 assumptio generalera contradictionem ferre potest, per 
 consequentiam licebit uti: ad consequentiae enim ra- 
 tionem sufficit, alterum quovis modo tolli, ut reliquum 
 concludatur, eademque conclusio erit, sive specialis 
 sive generalis in assumptione contradictio fuerit, in 
 altero vero modo secus erit, ubi contradictio iu ipsam 
 conclusionem cadit. 
 
 CAP. XVI. 
 
 De Syllogismo disjuncto secundo. 
 
 " Disjunctus secundus e propositione partibus om- 
 nibus afiirmata assumit unum ct reliquum tollit." 
 
 Secundus efl^citur, quia minus generalis est primo, 
 utpote proprietatibus quibusdam astrictus, quibus prior 
 immunis erat. Proprietates autem hae sunt, 1. partium 
 omnium propositionis afiirmatio, non totius modo pro- 
 positionis, id enim syllogismis omnibus compositis 
 commune est; ct affirmari quidem propositio vel omni- 
 bus negatis partibus potest. 2. Assumptio affirmatur, 
 quoniam in propositione affirmata fuerat. 3. In con- 
 clusione semper est negatio, eaque specialis contra- 
 dictio: in primo quidem conclusio nonnunquam nega- 
 tur; sed hoc tum sit cum pars propositionis quae con- 
 cluditur negata fuit. Exempli gratia: " aut dies est, 
 aut nox : dies est ; ergo nox non est." 
 
 " Ejusmodi syllogismus efficitur e propositione co- 
 pulata negata, quae negata complexio," vel, quod 
 Graecis idem est, negata copulatio dicitur, " et disjunc- 
 tionis affirmatae vim obtinet." 
 
 " Non et dies, et nox est: at dies est; non igitur 
 nox est." De hac negata copulatione sic Cic. in 
 Top. " non et hoc, et illud : hoc autem ; non igitur 
 illud." 
 
 Pertinet autem ad hunc secundum duntaxat modum 
 negata copulatio ; quod cum in hujusmodi propositione 
 quaevis opposita disponi possint, ex uno eorum negato, 
 nisi in iis qui medio carent, non necessario alterum 
 affirmatur et concluditur, quod fit in primo modo, sed 
 ex altero affirmato alterum negatur, quag communis est 
 regula omnium oppositorum, et fit duntaxat iu hoc 
 secundo. 
 
9td 
 
 ARTIS LOGICS PI-ENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 Ad sopliismata quod attinet horiim modoruni, prinii 
 quideni nullum occurrit. Secundi quae sunt, ex defi- 
 iiitione redarguuntur. Primum est, si aliqua pars pro- 
 positionis necata erit : ut, " leo aut animal est, aut non 
 est homo ; at non est homo, ergo ncc animal." Se- 
 cundum est, si assumptio sit negata ; ut in exem- 
 plo superiore. Tertium est, si special is contradiclio 
 jjou erit in conclusione : ut hoc ; " aut homo est ani- 
 mal, aut omne animal est irrationale ; sed homo est 
 animal, ergo nullum animal est irrationale." 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 De Enthymemate, Dilemmate, et Sorite. 
 
 ExposiTis omnibus cum simplicis tum compositi 
 syllogismi speciebus, sequitur axiomatis et syllojj^ismi 
 communis affectio, vel potius anomalia, de qua ante- 
 diximus, crjpsis. Qua; in omni ciim loquendi usu 
 tum scribendi genere tam frequens est, idque brevita- 
 tis plenimque causa, ut nemo ferh sjllogismos integros 
 sine crypsi aliqua vel loquatur vel scribat. 
 
 Sed quoniam crjpsis ejusque triplex modus syllo- 
 gismorum omnes species afBciunt, ea re dicendi locus 
 do syllogismi crypsibus ante non erat, quam de syllo- 
 gismi speciebus cunctis dictum esset. 
 
 " Si qua pars syllogismi defuerit, entbymema dici- 
 tur." 
 
 Ut ab exemplo : " Themistocli licuit urbem relin- 
 querc; ergo mihi.'' Addatur propositio ; " quod The- 
 mistocli licuit, licet et mihi." Ab inductione: " in- 
 ventio et dispositio in argumentis versantur ; ergo 
 Logica tota." Addatur'^assumptio ; " logica tola est 
 eoram inventio et dispositio." 
 
 Hoc etiam perpetuo observandum est, si conclu- 
 sionis preedicatum deest, dcesse majorem ; si subjec- 
 tum, minorem : si utrumque, syllogismi compositi 
 majorem vel potius majoris antecedentem, quce cum 
 tota qusestione ut cum consequente disponitur; quod 
 indicat plenum syllogismum fore compositum, et 
 anlecedens pars enthymematis erit antecedens majo- 
 ris ; totumque entbymema convertetur in majorem 
 proposilionem syllogismi connexi : ut "virtus reddit 
 bcatos; vitium ergo miseros." In antecedente hujus 
 enthymematis nee antecedens nee consequens qunestio- 
 nis apparet : totum igitur converte in axioma coiinexum 
 aut disjunctum, plenum syllogismum compositum esse 
 intelliges ; ut, •' si virtus reddit beatos, vitium reddit 
 miseros; at illud; hoc igitur. Non est nox; ergo est 
 dies." Totum converte in axioma disjunctum, majorem 
 supplebis, et syllogismum plenum disjunctum confici- 
 es : *' aut dies est, aut nox ; non nox, ergo dies." 
 
 " Si quid ad tres illas syllogismi partes accesserit, 
 prosyllogismus dicitur." Est enim ad partem aliquam 
 syllogismi addita probatio. 
 
 " Partium etiam ordo scppe confunditur." Quod 
 utrumque accidit in dilemmate et sorite. 
 
 Dilemma est specialis quredam crypsis non syllogis- 
 mi, sed syllogismorum ; k duplici propositione dictum, 
 quam "lemma Stoici" vocant, vulgo "disjunctivus bi- 
 furmis et syllogismus comutus," quasi comibus feriens ; 
 
 cujus vis in duobus axiomatis connexis citra syllogismi 
 formam satis manifesta est : ut illud Martialis ; 
 
 " Ha;c, si displicui, fuerint solatia nobis ; 
 Hjec fuerint nobis prsmia, si placui." 
 
 Et illud in evangelio : "si bene locutus sum, cur me 
 ctedis ? si male, testare de malo." Et reciprocum illud 
 insigne Protagorae magistri ad Euathlum discipulum, 
 apud Gellium, 1. 5, c. 10, et 11 : "si contra te lis data 
 erit, merces mihi ex sententia ilia debeljitur, quia ego 
 vicero ; sin vero secundum te judicatum erit, merces 
 mihi ex pacto debebitur, quia tu viccris." Cui contra 
 Euathlus; " et ego, bone magister, utrovis modo vicero," 
 &c. Hujusmodi est etiam illud apud Aristot. Rbet. 3, 
 23, " non agendum esse cum populo ; quia, si justa 
 dixeris, hominibus invisus eris ; si injusta, Deo." 
 Immo agendum esse cum populo : " nam, si injusta 
 dixeris, hominibus gratus eris; si justa, Deo." 
 
 Explicatur autem htec crypsis axiomate disjuncto ; 
 tot deinde syllogismis connexis vel etiam categoricis, 
 quoterantdisjuncti axiomatis membra : ut illud Biantis 
 consilium de uxore non ducenda : " aut formosam 
 duces, aut deformem ; si formosam, communem ; si de- 
 formem, pocnam : neutrum autem bonum ; non est 
 igitur ducenda uxor." Vel categoric^ sic ; " communis 
 non est ducenda; formosa erit communis; ergo, &c. : 
 poena non est ducenda; deformis erit poena; ergo, &c." 
 Sed axioma illud disjunctum partes omnes disjunctas 
 nonenumerat: est enim media quae nee formosa ncc 
 deformis est ; et neutrius connexi consequens est vera ; 
 fieri enim potest, ut nee formosa communis, nee defor- 
 mis poena sit futura. 
 
 Sorites et syllogismus crypticusmultarum propositio- 
 num continua serie ita progredientium, ut praedicatum 
 prsecedentis propositiunis perpetuo sit subjectum se- 
 quentis, donee tandem consequens propositionis ultima 
 eoncludatur de antecedente ])rimae : ut, " homo est ani- 
 mal ; animal est corpus sentiens ; corpus sentiens est 
 vivens; vivens est substiintia ; ergo homo est substan- 
 tia." Greece autem sorites, " acervalis Latin^ a Cice- 
 rone" dicitur ; quia minutatim addit, et quasi acervum 
 efficit. 
 
 Adhibetur fere vel ad summum genus de infima 
 specie, vel ad causam primariam, licet remotam, effecto 
 attribuendam ; et illud quidem per genera subalterna, 
 ut in exemplo superiore ; hoc per causas medias, ut in 
 exemplo sequente : "quos Deus praenovit, eos praedes- 
 tinavit; quos prtedestinavit, eos vocavit ; quos vocavit, 
 eosjustificavit; quos justificavit, eos glorificavit; ergo, 
 quos praenovit, eos glorificavit." 
 
 Utitur autem sorites et subalternis generibus et sub- 
 ordinatiscausis quasi tot mediisterminis ad probandum 
 conclusionem ; tot nempe quot sunt termini inter sub- 
 jectum prim<c propositionis et praedicatum conclusio- 
 nis : quot autem termini medii, tot sunt syllogismi. 
 
 Est itaque progressio enthymeniatica syllogismos 
 uno pauciores continens quam propositiones. Syllo- 
 gismus principalis habet pro majore propositionera 
 conclusioni proximam ; pro minoris termino minore, 
 subjectum conclusionis pro termino majore ; subjectum 
 propositionis majoris: ex. gr. " quos justificavit, glori- 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 913 
 
 ficavit; quos prcenovit, justificavit ; quos erg^o pneno- 
 vit, glorificavit." Reliqui sunt minorum prosyllogis- 
 mi, et praecedens quisque probatio sequentis. 
 
 Unde intelligitiir soritte crypsis triplex, et defectus, et 
 redundantia, et inversio. Si igitur partium, sive species 
 sive causae siut, non erit recta subordinatio firmaque 
 connexio, sorites probus non erit : ut, " ex malis mori- 
 bus existunt bonae leges; ex bonis legibus shIus rcip. ; 
 ex reip. salute bona omnia ; ergo ex moribus malis 
 bona omnia." Hie causae per se male subordinantur 
 causae per accidens. 
 
 Fallit hie etiam.: " Si nullum tempus esset, nox non 
 esset; si nox non esset, dies esset; si dies esset, ali- 
 quod tempus esset; ergo, si nullum tempus esset, ali- 
 quod tempus esset." Nam si nullum tempus esset, 
 certe nee dies esset : fallit ergo in propositione se- 
 cunda; quae non verecontinuatur; sed ponit effectum, 
 sublata causa. Coetera sorites vitia babet cum aliis 
 syllogismi speciebus coraraunia. 
 
 CAP. XVII. 
 
 De Methodo. 
 
 " M ETH0DU8 est dispositio dianoetica variorum axi- 
 omatum horaogcneorum pro naturae sure claritate prte- 
 positorum, unde omnium inter se convenientia judica- 
 tur, mcmoriaque coniprebenditur." 
 
 Methodi permagnus est in omni vita usus, magna 
 proinde laus. Hanc Plato, in Philebo, esse ait " do- 
 num bominibus divinitus datum." Aristoteles etiam 
 " ordineni in niaximis bonis" numeravit. Fabius, 
 "Ncc mibi," inquit, " errare videntur, qui ipsara rerum 
 naturam stare ordine putant : quo confuso, peritura 
 sunt omnia." 
 
 Est autem mctbodus dispositio variorum axiomatum 
 homogeneorum, i. e. corum quae ad eandeni rem per- 
 tinent, eandemque ad finem referuntur. Homogcnea 
 nisi fuerint, subordinata sibiinvicem esse non poterunt, 
 adeoque ne ordinata quidem. Itaque aritbmeticum in 
 gcometria, geometricum in arithmetica veluti betero- 
 genium et alienum methodus excludit. Pro naturae 
 autem suse claritate axioniata quaeque propponenda 
 sunt, j)rout argumenta priora, notiora, illustriora com- 
 plectuntur. Prima autem praecedant an orta a primis 
 parum refert, cum utroruraque eadem affectio sit. 
 
 " Atque ut spectatur in axiomate Veritas aut falsitas, 
 in syllogismo consequentia et inconsequentia ; sic in 
 methodo consideratur, ut per se clarius proecedat, ob- 
 scurius sequatur; omninoque ordo et confusio judica- 
 tur. Sic disponetur ex homogeneis axiomatis primo 
 loco absoluta notione primum, secundo secundum, 
 tertio tertium, et ita deinceps." 
 
 Prius autem sicut et posterius quinque modis dici- 
 mus: tempore, ut senem juvene; natura, ut causam 
 effecto, genus specie; qnicquid denique existendi con- 
 secutione est prius ; i. e. quod alio posito, ponitur ; et 
 quo posito, aliud non ponitur, ut unitas binario: non- 
 
 nunquam etiam ubi consecutio reciproca est, quod 
 simul est tempore, natura tamen est prius, ut sol suo 
 lumine. Bifivriam etiam dicitur prius natura ; gene- 
 rante scilicet, ut partes toto, simplex composito, media 
 fine; vel intendente, ut totum partibus, compositum 
 simplici, finis mediis. Prius dispositione sive loco 
 dicitur, quod initio est proprius ; ut in dicendo, narra- 
 tio confirmatione. Prius dignitate; ut magistratus 
 cive, aurum argento, virtus auro. Prius denique cog- 
 nitione, quod cognitu facilius est: idque vel in se, vel 
 nobis: in se quod natura est prius; nobis, quod poste- 
 rius est, et sensibus objectum : ilia perfectior est cog- 
 nitio, hoDC imperfcctior. 
 
 " Ideoque methodus ab universalibus, ut quae causas 
 contineant, ad singularia pcrpetuo progreditur." Ad- 
 eoque ab antecedentibusomnino et absolute notioribus 
 ad consequentia ignota declarandum. 
 
 Unde intelligitur agi hie de methodo tradendi sive 
 docendi, qute analytica rect^ dicitur, non inveniendi. 
 Methodus n. inveniendi quae a Platone dicitur " syn- 
 thetica," procedit a singularibus quae tempore sunt 
 priora, sensibusque se prius offerunt; quorum induc- 
 tione generales notiones colliguntur : methodus autem 
 docendi sive inventa et judicata disponendi,dequa hie 
 agitur ; contraria via, ut etiam docet Arist. 1 Metaph. 
 c. 1, et 2, procedit ab universalibus, qua; natura sunt 
 priora et notiora ; non quo prius aut facilius cognos- 
 cantur, sed quod posteaquam sunt cognita, prapcedunt 
 notionis natura et claritate quanto sunt k sensibus re- 
 motiora. Sic generales rerum species (ut optici etiam 
 decent) citius in sensus incurrunt : et advenientem 
 aliquem, judico prius animal esse qu^m homineni, et 
 hominem quam Socratem. At4ue hanc solam mctlio- 
 dum Aristot. passim docuit. 
 
 " Sed methodi unitatem exempli doctrinarum et 
 artium prsecipu^ demonstrant, prtecipueque vindicant. 
 
 " Quibus quamvis omnes reguloe generales sint et 
 universales, tamen carum gradus distinguuntur: quan- 
 toque unaquaeque generalior erit, tanto magis prae- 
 cedet. 
 
 " Generalissima loco et ordine prima erit, quia lumine 
 et notitia prima est. 
 
 " Subalternae consequentur, quia claritate sunt prox- 
 imoe : utque ex his naturae notiores praeponer.tur, 
 minus notae substitucntur. 
 
 " Tandemque specialissima constituentur. 
 
 " Definitio itaque generalissima prima erit;" causas 
 n. continet definitioni consectaria subjungentur, sive 
 proprietatum si quae sunt et ex definitione per se non 
 patent, explicationis distributio sequetur. 
 
 "QufE si multiplex fuerit, pnecedet in partes integras 
 partitio, sequetur divisio in species. Partesque ipsoe 
 et species eodem ordine sunt rursus tractaudae ac de- 
 finiendse, quo distributee fuerint. 
 
 " Et transitionum vinculis si longior inter eas inter- 
 sit explicatio, colligandse sunt : id n. auditorera reficit 
 ac recreat." 
 
 Transitio autem vel perfecta est vel imperfecta. 
 Perfecta, quae breviter et quid dictum sit et quid se- 
 quatur, ostendit: qualis ilia bujus libri secundi initio 
 
914 
 
 ARTIS LOGIC.E PLENIOR INSTITUTIO, 
 
 " adhuc prima artis logicce pars fuit,"&c. Imperfecta 
 est quae alteriitrum duntaxat osteiidit vel quid dictum 
 sit, vel q«id sequatur : qualis ilia 1. 1, c. 18, " arjf u- 
 meiita simplicia ita fuerunt," &c. 
 
 Exemplo sit grammatica. Hujus definitio, ut qnte 
 generalissima sit, ex lege methodi primo loco statuatur ; 
 ars scilicet bene loquendi : secundo loco erit gramma- 
 ticre partitio, in etymologiam et syntaxin ; turn etymo- 
 logia, quoe de vocibus agit, definiatur ; dein voces 
 partes in Uteris et syllabis, speciesque in vocibus numeri 
 et sine numero subsequantur, exituumque transitiones 
 suis locis collocentur : atque ita omnium etymologiae 
 partium definitiones, distributiones, colligationes, ex- 
 empla denique specialissima in singulis disponentur : 
 idcmque in sjntaxi fiet. Hanc viam omnes artes sibi 
 proposuerunt. 
 
 Moderni quidem duplicem methodum instituuntt 
 " sjntbeticam et analyticam : illam scientiis theoreticis 
 tradendis, physicte puta vel mathematicnc magis ac- 
 commodatam ; qua partes scientioe ita disponuntur, ut 
 a subjecto contemplationis universali ad particularia, 
 isimplicibus ad composita progressus fiat: sic physica 
 exorditur a corporis naturalis definitione ; ad ejus 
 deinde causas vel partes affectionesque generales ad 
 species denique progreditur. Methodum analyticam 
 definiunt, qua ita disponuntur partes scientiaj practiciE 
 ut a notione finis fiat progressus ad uotitiam principi- 
 orum vel mediorum, ad ilium finem assequendum : sic 
 in ethicis a fine, scilicet beatitudine, ad media, nempe 
 virtutes proceditur : Verum cum hac utraque methodus 
 una eademque via, a definitione scilicet generalissima, 
 sive ilia subjectum sive finem generalem contineat, ad 
 minus generalia, anotioribus ad minus nota, a simplici- 
 bus ad composita teque utrobique dividendo progredia- 
 tur, non videtur ob diversam in definitione generali, 
 illic subjecti, hie finis mentionem, duplicem esse me- 
 thodum constituendam ; sed unam potius, artium qui- 
 dem tradendarum, eamque analyticam esse dicendam. 
 
 " Atqui methodus non solum in materia artium et 
 doctrinarum adhibetur, sed in omnibus rebus quas 
 facile et perspicue docere volumus. 
 
 " Ideoque poetae, oratorcs, omnesque omnino scrip- 
 tores, quoties docendum sibi auditorem proponunt, hanc 
 viam sequi volunt, quamvis non usquequaque ingredi- 
 antur atque insistant." 
 
 Sic Virgilius, in Georgicis, distribuit propositam 
 materiam in quatuor partes, ut antedictum est : primo- 
 que libro res communes persequitur, ut astrologiam, 
 meteorologiam, deque segetibus et earum cultu dis- 
 
 serit, quoe pars operis prima erat, tumque transitio ad- 
 hibetur initio secundi libri. 
 
 ** Hactenus arvorum cuUus," &c. 
 
 Dein scribit general iter de arboribus, tum specialiter 
 de vilibus. Sic toto opere, generalissimum, primo ; sub- 
 altcrna, medio; specialissima, extreme loco ponere stu- 
 duit. 
 
 Eandem Ovidius, in Fastis, dispositionis hujus gra- 
 tiam sequitur. Proponit initio summam operis. 
 
 " Tempera cum causis Latium digesla per annum," &c. 
 
 Mox imploratione facta, partitionem anni statuit. 
 Tum communes ditferentias interpretatus diei fasti, ne- 
 fasti, &c. Tandem unumquemque mensem suo loco 
 persequitur, et ordinis hujus k generalibus ad specialia 
 studium suum proefatione indicat. 
 
 " HaiC mihi dicta semel, totis hacrentia fastis, 
 Ne seriem rerum scindere cogar, erunt." 
 
 " Oratores in procemio ; narratione, confirmatione, < 
 peroratione hunc ordinem affectant, eumque artis et 
 naturae et rei ordinem appellant, et interdum studiosis 
 assectantur." 
 
 Ut in Verrem, Cicero primum proponendo tum par- 
 tiendo. " Quuestor," inquit, " Cn. Papyrio cos. fuisti 
 abhinc annos quatuordecim, et ex ilia die ad hanc diem 
 quae fecisti, in judicium voco," &c. Propositio hie ct 
 definitio summae rei est, tanquam in hoc judicio gene- 
 ralissima. Partitio sequitur : " hi sunt anni, &c., quare 
 hoec eadem erit quadripartita distributio totius accusa- 
 tionis meae." Quas partes quatuor carunique partium 
 particulas deinceps suo quamque ordine et loco tractat, 
 et transitionibus copulat ; tres primas tertio libro ; et sic 
 deinceps. 
 
 " Hoec igitur in variis axiomatis homogeneis suo vel 
 syllogism! judicio notis methodus erit, quoties perspi- 
 cue res docenda erit." 
 
 At cum delectatioiie motuve aliquo majore ab oratore 
 quovis aut poeta, ut quibuscum vulgo potissimum res 
 est, ducendus erit auditor, crypsis methodi fere adhibe- 
 bitur; horaogeneaqutedamrejicientur, ut definitionum, 
 partitionura, transitionumque lumina. Quaedam assu- 
 mentur heterogenea, velut digressiones a re, et in re 
 commorationes. Et preecipu6 rerum ordo invertetur. 
 
 Sed oratoribus et poetis sua methodi ratio relin- 
 quenda est; vel saltern iis, qui oratoriam et poeticam 
 docent. 
 
AD PETRI RAMI METHODUM CONCINNATA. 
 
 015 
 
 PRAXIS LOGICS 
 
 ANALYTICA EX DOUNAMO. 
 
 AD CAPUT TERTIUM RAMIiE DIALECTICiE. 
 
 " ExEMPLUM primum est causae procreantis et coii- 
 servantis ex Oviclii primo de Remed. 
 
 " Ergo ubi visus eris nostra medicabilis arte, 
 Fac monitis fugias otia prima meis. 
 Haec, ut ames, faciunt : hsec quae fecere tuentur ; 
 
 Hffic sunt jucundi causa, cibusque mali. 
 Otia si tollas, pericre Cupidinis arcus, 
 Contemptieque jacent & sine lure faces." 
 
 In singulis, quae ad efficientis doctrinam illustran- 
 dam afferuiitur, cxemplis, tria consideranda sunt, effi- 
 ciens, effectum, efficiendi modus. In hoc exeniplo 
 effectum est amor, efficiens est otium, quod amorem 
 efficit duplici modo, tuni procreando, turn conservando, 
 ut in secundo disticho poeta docet. Dispositio autem 
 hiijus exempli (ut pleniorem ejus analjsin instituam) 
 syllogistica est. Qurestio, quam poeta concludendam 
 proponit, hoec est; fugiendum esse otium ei, qui ab 
 amore immunis esse velit: eaque duobus sj'Uogismis 
 concluditur: in priori argumentum tertium ducitur ab 
 effectis quidem otii, amoris vero causa procreante et 
 conservante, hoc modo : amoris procreans et conservans 
 causa vitanda est ei, qui ab amore ipso liber esse velit; 
 otium vero amoris procreans et conservans causa est ; 
 otium igitur fugiendum est ei, qui ab amore liber esse 
 velit. Propositio deest. Assumptio in secundo disti- 
 cho primo simpliciter proponitur, deinde altera ejus 
 pars de conservante per similitudinem cibi illustratur. 
 Conclusio praecedit in primo disticho. Secunda ratio 
 est consectarium ex assumptione prioris sjllogismi de- 
 ductum. Otium est causa procreans et conservans 
 amoris ; ergo sublato otio, amor tollitur. Cujus propo- 
 sitio et t'undamentum est logicum illud axioma; sub- 
 lata causa, tollitur effectum, quae propositio si addatur, 
 plenus erit syllogism us. 
 
 Exemplum secundum ibid, ex iEneid. 4. 
 
 " Non tibi diva parens, generis nee Dardanus auctor, 
 Perfide ; sed duris genuit te cautibus horrens 
 Caucasus, Hyrcanseque admorunt ubera tigres." 
 
 Hie effectum est ^neas. Causae efficientes, pater, 
 mater, nutrix ; modus autem efficiendi non unus: pa- 
 rentes enim liberos efficiunt procreando, nutrix vero 
 conservando. Disponitur autem hoc exemplum axio- 
 mate discreto. Anchises et Venus non sunt^nese pa- 
 rcntes, ut Didoni placet, sed horrens Caucasus et duras 
 cautes : Hyrcanae autem tigres ut nutrices ubera ad- 
 moverunt. 
 
 3 N 
 
 Exemplum tertium est solitariae causae, cap. 4, ex 
 iEneid. 9. 
 
 " Me, me adsum, qui feci, in me convertite ferrum : 
 O Rutuli : mea fraus omnis : nihil iste nee ausus 
 Nee potuit." 
 
 In hoc exemplo effectum est ccedes Rutulorum. Effi- 
 ciens hujus ctedis Nysus. Quod autem ad modum at- 
 tinet efficiendi, effecit, ut ipse de se ait, solus. Dispo- 
 sitio autem hujus exempli syllogistica est. Qui solus 
 auctor est ccedis, is solus est occidendus. Ego vero, 
 inquit, solus auctor c^dis sum; ergo, &c. Propositio 
 deest : assumptio continetur versu 2. Mea fraus, i. e. 
 culpa omnis, quam probat remotione sociae causa?, nihil 
 iste nee ausus est, &c. Conclusio versu 1. Me, me 
 scilicet occidite, in me convertite ferrum, (Sec. 
 
 Ejusdem causee exemplum aliud, in oratione Cicero- 
 nis pro Marcello. " Nam bellicas laudes solentquidam 
 extenuare verbis, easque detrahere ducibus et commu- 
 nicare cum multis, ne propriae sint imperatorum : et 
 certe in armis militum virtus, locorum opportunitas, so- 
 ciorum auxilia, classes, commeatus multum juvant: 
 maximam vero partem, quasi suo jure, fortuna sibi 
 vendicat, et quicquid est prosper^ gestum, id pen6 
 omne ducit suum. At vero hujus gloriae, Caesar, quam 
 es pauIo ante adeptus, socium babes neminem : totum 
 hoc quantumcunque est, quod cert6 maximum est, to- 
 tum inquam, est tuum. Nihil tibi ex ista laude cen- 
 turio, nihil prsefectus, nihil cohors, nihil turma de- 
 cerpit : quin etiam ilia ipsa reruni humanarum domina 
 fortuna in istius se societatem glorire non offert : tibi 
 cedit, tuam esse totam ac propriam fatetur." Hoc ex- 
 emplum continet plenam comparationem a minore ad 
 majus, ad amplificandam Caesaris laudem clementice. 
 In proto exemplum est causarum, qua; cum aliis effi- 
 ciunt. Effectum est victoria ; efficiens imperator, non 
 quidem solus, sed cum aliis, quarum alia principalis est, 
 et imperatori quasi socia fortuna: alise adjuvantes et 
 ministroe, cujusmodi quinque recensentur, niilitum for- 
 titudo, locorum opportunitas, sociorum auxilia, classes, 
 commeatus. In apodosi exemplum habemus solitariae 
 causae : effectum est dementia in Marcellum, praestita, 
 cujus causa et quidem sola est ipse Coesar; eaque 
 illustratur remotione causarum adjuvantium. Scopus 
 Ciceronis est, ut ostendat Coesarem plus laudis ob cle- 
 nientiam mereri, quam propter res gestas: idqueosten- 
 dit ex collatis inter se efficiendi modis, quod nimirum 
 rerum gestarum Caesar non solus auctor fuerit, clemeu- 
 
916 
 
 ARTis logics: PLENTOR INSTITUTIO, &c. 
 
 tiee vero pnestitae solus. Jam vera efficiens plus laudis 
 vel vituperationis merctur, qu(e sola quid facit ; qute 
 vero cum aliis, minus. Sic igitur hsec ratio potest 
 concludi. Cujus Ca»sar solus auctor est, id plus mere- 
 tur laudis, quam cujus solus non est auctor. Rerum in 
 bello ffeslarum solus auctor non est; clemcntioe vero in 
 Marcellum preestitse solus ; proinde dementia Caesaris 
 plus meretur laudis, quam res in bello gestce. Hujus 
 syllogismi assumptio tantiim in lioc exempio proponi- 
 tur; ej usque prior pars enumeratione causarum adju- 
 vautium, posterior remotioue earundem illustratur. 
 Ibidem exemplum causae instrumeutalis primo de 
 
 Nat. Deor. " Quibus oculis animi intueri potuit vester 
 Plato fabricam illam tanti operis, qua coustrui a Deo 
 atque aedidcari nondum facit? Quae molitio ? qute 
 ferramenta ? qui vectes.'* quae machinse ? qui ministri 
 tanti operis fuerunti"' Syllogismus sic sese habet. 
 Qui instrumcnta non babuit, is mundum non creavit: 
 Deus instrumenta non babuit; ergo, &c. Hujus syl- 
 logismi propositio falsissima dcest; conclusio praecedit; 
 assumptio sequitur: eaque per inductionem quandam 
 specierum illustratur. Utraque autem turn assumptio 
 turn conclusio per interrogationem i/j^amcurcpov ne- 
 gatur. 
 
 PETRI RAMI VITA, 
 
 JOANNE THOMA FRETGIO, 
 
 RECTSIS DIGRESSIONIBUS, DESCRIPTA. 
 
 Petrus Ramus natus est anno millesimo quingentes 
 imo decimo quinto. Ejus avus, ut ipse in preefatione 
 suae RegitE Professionis memorat, in Eburonum gente, 
 famiiia imprimis illustri fuit: sed patria aCarolo, Bur- 
 gundionum duce, capta et incensa, in Veromanduorum 
 agrum profugus, ac spoliatus, carbunarium facere coac- 
 tus est: bine Ramo "carbonarius pater" probri loco 
 objectus : sed pater agricola fuit. Puer vix e cunis 
 egressus, ut ipse in Sbeckiano epilogo de se narrat, 
 duplici peste laboravit. Jurenis invita modisque om- 
 nibus repugnante fortuna, Lutetiam ad capessendas 
 artes ingenuas venit. Erat statura corporis grandi ac 
 generosa, vultu mitissimo, moribus integerrimis, vale- 
 tudine firma ac robusta, quam perpetua abstinentia 
 continentiaque et continuo labore etiam firmiorem red- 
 didit. Lutetiae magisterii titulura suscepturus, proble- 
 ma hoc sumpsit ; " quaecunque ab Aristotele dicta 
 essent, commentitia esse." Attoniti novitate atque 
 insolentia problematis examinatores ac magistri, per 
 diem integrum, sed irrito conatu, magistrandum, ut 
 ▼ocant, oppug^arunt. Ex boc fortiiito successu, 
 ansam deinceps serio et libere in Aristotelem animad- 
 ▼ertendi et inquirendi arripuit. Logicamque impri- 
 mis, utpote instrumentum reliquarum artium expolire 
 instituit (ut ipse pluribus persequitur in epilogo, 1. 5, 
 Scbolarum Dialecticarum) sed annum agens aetatis 
 primum et vigesimum heec moliri incoeperat. Septimo 
 
 post, priraam, ut putatur, Dialecticara et Aristotelicas 
 Animadversiones ad academiam Parisiensem edidit : 
 sequente anno Euclidem Latine, quam et praefatione 
 commendavit. Exeo tempore niultos adversarios con- 
 tra se irritavit, et praesertira duos homines, quos Talaeus 
 in academia sua dum contentionem totam enarrat, non 
 nominal tamen. Vix, iuquit, Aristotelicae Animadver- 
 siones lectce erant, cum P. Ramus repente ad praetorii 
 tribunalis capitalem contentionem per certos homines 
 falso academiae nomine rapitur, novique crimiuis accu- 
 satur, quod scilicet, Aristotelem oppugnando, artes 
 enervaret : bac enim orationc Aristotelea actio instituta 
 est. Hinc Aristoteleorum clamoribus agitatus, ad 
 summum Parisiensis curiae concilium traducitur. Id 
 cum ex adversariorum sententia non procederet, novis 
 artibus a senatu Parisiensi ad regiam cognitionem 
 res defertur : constituuntur judices quinque bini ab 
 utraque parte, quintus a rege nominatur; causam de 
 singulis animadversionum capitibus dicere jubetur 
 Ramus: qui tametsi de quinque judicibus tres infen- 
 sissimos habebat, tamen ut mandato regio obtempera- 
 ret, ad diem constitutam adfuit ; scriba unns aderat ; 
 qui rationes Rami et judicum sententias exciperct 
 Biduo magna contentione de dialecticae artis defini- 
 tione et partitione, quae in logici organi libris nuilae 
 essent, concertatum est. Tres Aristotelei judices primo 
 die, contra omncs bene descriptre artis leges, judica- 
 
PETRI RAMI VITA. 
 
 917 
 
 runt ad dialecticee artis perfectionem definitione nihil 
 opus esse. Qui duo judices a. Ramo lecti erant, con- 
 tra censueriint. Postridie tres judices Aristotelei vehe- 
 menter conturbati, de partitione assentiuntur, causam- 
 que in aliara diem rejiciunt. Verum ne non damna- 
 retur Ramus, novum concilium initur, ut ab initio tota 
 disputatio retexatur, judicata pridie, pro nihilo habea- 
 tur. Ab ista judicum inconstantia provocat Ramus; 
 sed frustra ; judicium n. sine provocatione tribus illus 
 judicibus datur ; condemnantur triumvirali ilia sen- 
 tentia non solum Animadversiones Aristotelicae, sed 
 Institutiones etiam Dialecticae : auctori interdicitur, 
 ne in posterum vel docendo vel scribendo, ullam phi- 
 losophiee partem atting-eret : ludi etiam magno appa- 
 ratu celebrantur, in quibus Ramus et Ramea Dialec- 
 tica ludibrio habetur. Ab his difficultatibus unus 
 omnium Carohis Lotbaringus Ramum liberarit: Hen- 
 rico enim regi persuaserat, philosophiam semper libe- 
 ram esse oportere. Hinc Ramus pristinae docendi ac 
 scribendi libertati restitutus, perannos quatuor summa 
 in pace studiis operam dedit. Anno eetatis trigesimo 
 primo orationem de studiis philosophic et eloquentiae 
 conjungendis habuit: cum Taloeo fratre (sic eum per- 
 petuo vocat) professionis partes ita divisit, ut Talaeus 
 matutinis horis philosophiam, ipse pomeridianis elo- 
 quentiam doceret : in poetis, oratoribus, philosophis 
 omnisque generis authoribus cxplicandis, usum dialec- 
 ticte demonstravit : id Ramo postea crimini datum est, 
 quod in philosophico studio non philosophos, sed, con- 
 tra leges academise, pro philosophis poetas explicaret: 
 purgat se Ramus; petitque ut gy.nnasium suum Prce- 
 leum per probos et doctos homines invisatur. Sed 
 judex quidam, nobilis adolescens, datus, discipulos 
 Rami indicta causa, condemnat ; publicis et scholis et 
 sigillis et tabulis prohibct ; omnibus denique academiae 
 muneribus et prnemiis excludit. Ab hac sententia tarn 
 nova discipuli Rami ad Juliancnse philosophorum co- 
 mitium provocant, et absolvuntur, modo praeceptor 
 eorum jurejurando confirmet, libros, academiae Icgibus 
 definitos, a se esse praelectos. Confirma Ramus : 
 paulo tamen post ab eodem judice adolescente, non 
 discipuli, ut antea, sed magistri eorum oppugnantur: 
 Ramo injungitur, ut in publicis scholis disciplinam 
 suam ipse detestaretur et ejuraret. Is ad superiores 
 academiae ordines secundo provocat : sed cum vitandi 
 tumultus causa, scripto se absens, defenderet, ado- 
 lescens ille judex, etsi duabus appellationibus rejectus, 
 tertio judical ac damnat. Quarto provocat Ramus : 
 cum provocationis diem accusator antevertisset, co- 
 actus est Ramus subito in senatum venire : hie ite- 
 rum Carolus Lotbaringus unico preesidio fuit: ac- 
 cusationem cujusdam audiit gravissimam Ramum 
 Academicum nominantis, qui de humanis divinisque 
 legibus dubitaret, qui lubricos D. Augustini locos ad 
 effreenatam atque impiam libertatem suis auditoribus 
 proponeret, et quo facilius incautis anirais abutere- 
 tur, omnes logicas disputationes tolleret. Contra has 
 caluranias facile se defendit Ramus. Decretum est 
 itaque in senatu, uti Ramus discipulique ejus in pristi- 
 num atque integrum statum restituerentur. Ipse anno 
 Ktatis trigesimo sexto cum Blessiis Carolus Lotba- 
 
 ringus ad Henricum regem de disciplina Ramea retu- 
 lisset, in numerum atque ordinem regiorum professorum 
 per literas regias honorifice ad se scriptas, est cooptatus. 
 Gratias itaque et regi Henrico et Carolo Lothariiigo 
 public^ egit; sibique persuasit, se 4 rege in praestan- 
 tissima reip. parte esse collocatum ; sibique adeo dies 
 ac noctes esse summo studio enitendum, ne tanto mu- 
 neri ac profession! eloquentise simul et philosophiaR 
 deesset: unde animos adolescentium tanta audiendi et 
 proficiendi cupiditate inflammavit, utschola regia, licet 
 ad audiendum amplissima, plerumque tamen auditorum 
 concursum frequentiamque capere minime potuerit. 
 Adversariorum petulantiam summa constantia tulit at- 
 que pervicit ; symbolunique ejus hoc fuit, " Labor 
 omnia vincit." Anno 1552, cum in Cameracensi schola 
 frequentissimis auditoribus dialecticam suam auspica- 
 retur, inter strepitus, clamores, sibilos nihil commotus, 
 per intervalla clamorum, incredibili constantia perexit 
 et peroravit : qua ejus virtute consternati ininiici, in 
 posterum minus ei molestiie exhibuerunt. In Heidel- 
 bergensi etiam academia, principis authoritate ad pro- 
 fitendum adductus, consimiles aemulorum clamores in- 
 victo animo pertulit Adversus doctos aliquot homines 
 Goveanum, Gallandium, Perionium, Turnebum, Me- 
 lancthonum, pari silentio est usus. Viginti annis ab- 
 stemius fuit, donee sanitatis causa medici vino uti 
 suaserunt : vini enim fastidium ceperat ex quo infans 
 in cellam vinariam clam parentibus irrepcns, se tam 
 immodice ingurgitavit, ut mortuo similis humi repcri- 
 retur. Pro lectulo stramcntis ad senectutem usque 
 usus est. Ccelebs tota vita permansit. Praelei gym- 
 nasii labore (qui ipsi sine uUo publico stipendio erat 
 mandatus) contentus fuit. A discipulis suis oblata 
 munera, quamvis debita, tamen non acccpit. Anno 
 1556, Ciceronianum edidit de optima juventutis insti- 
 tuendse ratione. Pronuntiationem Latinoe linguae in 
 academia Parisiensi tunc temporis inquinatissimam, ' 
 corrigcndi author cumprimis fuit, reclamantibus licet 
 Sorbonistis, pravarum omnium consuetudinum propug- 
 natoribus tam obstinatis, ut sacerdotem quendam no- 
 vatae pronuntiationis coram senatu Parisiensi insimula- 
 tum, quasi ob hseresin, ut aiebant, grammaticam, 
 amplissimis proventibus ecclesiasticis privandum con- 
 tenderent: et lite quidem superiores videbantur dis- 
 cessuri, nisi P. Ramus caeterique professores regii ad 
 curiam convolantes, judicii tam alieni insolentiam dis- 
 suasissent. Veriira illius temporis tam crassa igno- 
 rantia fuit, ut libris editis, proditum sit, in ea academia 
 doctores extitisse, qui mordicus defenderent, " ego 
 amat" tam commodam syntaxin esse, quam "ego 
 amo;" ad eamque pertinaciam comprimendam, autho- 
 ritate publica opus fuisse. In mathematicis quid effe- 
 cerit Ramus, Scholas Mathematicae aliaque ejus opera 
 testantur. Ea meditantem, belli civilis calamitas in- 
 terpellavit ; acceptis igitur a rege literis, ad regiam 
 Fontisbelaquei bibliothecam profectus, mathematicas 
 prselectiones ad initio plenius et uberius retractavit. 
 Tum in Italiam cogitabat, quo ipsum Bononia honori- 
 fice invitarat; vel saltem in Germaniam: sed viis om- 
 nibus terror mortis intentatus, rumor etiam Prselei sui 
 indignis modis direpti ac bibliothecte spoliatae, ad re- 
 
918 
 
 PETRI RAMI VITA. 
 
 giam Vincennarum propriiis urbem revocaruiit. Sed et 
 alia vis etiam gravius urgebat, ut e Vincennis per invia 
 itinera profugiendum essct, et subinde variis in locis 
 delitescendum : in ftiga tamen ct latebris otiiim hospi- 
 tesque sui cupidissimos reperit ; in coque olio Scholas 
 Phjsicas conscripsit, vcl potius inchoavit. Erumpentc 
 nirstis bello civili, in optimatum castra profugit: eo 
 tumuitu post sex menses sedato, reversus, nihil in 
 bibliotbeca praeter inania reperit scrinia ; mathematicas 
 tantum commentationes Kesnerus (qui Parisiis per- 
 mansit) direptoribus comniodum eripuit. Impendente 
 jam tertium civili bello, impetravit i rege Carolo ad 
 invisendas exteras academias annuam dimissionem, 
 quasi legationem liberam. In extremis regni finibus, 
 vix militum quorundam manus, nisi prolato in medium 
 diplomatc regio, effugisset. Ter dimissus, ter repeti- 
 tus, tandem velocitate summa eo pervenit, ubi sicariis 
 licentia nequaquam pareat. Adventus ejus in Germa- 
 niam bonorum ac doctorum omnium singulari humani- 
 tate et gratulatione exceptus est. Argentorati Joannes 
 Sturmius, ejus academiee autbor simul et rector, pera- 
 mantereum accepit deinde academia toto adjunctis etiam 
 quibusdam ad ampliorem gratulationem comitibus et ba- 
 ronibus, liberalissim^ tractavit : quo die, denique,nobi- 
 lissimee nuptiae in eo loco celebrabantur, in prjtaneum 
 summus urbis magistratus, publicae gratulationis gratia 
 cum Sturmio eum adduxit. Bernam preeteriens, tantum 
 vidit, nee tamen sine consulis Stegeri honorifica libe- 
 ralitate, atque Halleri, Aretii, aliorumque doctissimo- 
 rum hominum amica gratulatione discessit. Tiguri, 
 Henricus Bullengerus simulatque in urbem ingressus 
 est Ramus, gratulator primus affuit, coenamque ei 
 apparavit, eruditissimis convivarum, Josise Simleri, 
 Rodolpbi Gualteri, Lodovici Lavalteri sermonibus 
 longe gratissimam. Postridie cum ab eodem BuUin- 
 gero in aulam publicam deduceretur, miratus quid sibi 
 vellet in eum locum frequentissimus civium cuj usque 
 ordinis conrentus, qaaesivit ex eo, ecquae illic etiam, 
 ut Argentinse, nobiles nuptiee celebrarentur. Cui 
 BuUingerus, tibi, inquit, nostra civitas nuptias illas 
 celebrat. Praebuit ei Heidelberga amicum Ursinum, 
 
 Olevitanum, hospitcm etiam Immanuelem Tremellium, 
 fautorcm denique ipsum Electorem Palatinum, qui 
 discedentem Ramum, aurca imagine sua donavit. 
 Inde Francofurtum pergens, 4 primariis aliquot civibus 
 honorific^ est acceptus: deinde Noribergam ad prse- 
 stantissimos opiflces et mechanicos aliosque viros doc- 
 tos et preesertim Juacbimum Camerarium, profectus 
 est: hie jurisconsultorum coUegio mandatum a scnatu 
 est, ut P. Ramo convivium publico urbis nomine in- 
 struerent. Inde Augustam perexit ubi urbis consul 
 primarius eum liberalissim^ tractavit, adbibitis in con- 
 vivium eruditis variae doctrinae convivis, sed impriniis 
 Hieronimo Wolfio, et Tichone Bracheo, cum quo post 
 prandium in suburbanum consulis deductus, varies 
 sermones de studiis mathematicis babuit. Ruraore 
 tandem restitutae pacis revocatus, Lausannam conten- 
 dit: hie a viris doctis exoratus, logicam dicpoaaiv dies 
 aliquot maximo coucursu exhibuit. Geneva cum doc- 
 tissimis faominibus tum de ceeteris liberalibus studiis, 
 tum de logicis collocutio illi assidua fuit, maxim^ cum 
 Francisco de Cretensi et Andrea Melvino, Scoto. 
 Cum aliis multis eruditissimis viris, in Italia Com- 
 mandino ct Papio, in Anglia Dio et Acontio, in Ger- 
 mauia Chytreo, aliisque permultis amicitiam per literas 
 jaxante coluerat. Nobiles et inclytae civitates eum 
 magnis et bonorificis muneribus, et sexcentorum coro- 
 natorum oblato stipendio appetiverunt. Joannes elec- 
 tus rex Pannoni amplissimo stipendio Albte Julioe 
 regendam academiam illi obtulit. Cracoviam libera- 
 lissimd, immo in Italiam mille ducatorum stipendio 
 Bononiam invitatus, patriam tamen deserere noluit : 
 itaque Carolus ix, petitum undique calumniis domi, 
 invidorumque morsibus, non solum praesenti ope sub- 
 levavit, sed faonore auxit et amplificabit, eique vaca- 
 tionem a laboribus concessit. Tandem, anno 1572, in 
 ilia Parisiensi Christianorum ac cirium internecionc, 
 indignissime periit. Necis causam sunt qui in serau- 
 los ejus conferant: plerique eandem quae ceteris ea 
 nocte trucidatis fuisse existimant. Legatum annuum 
 mathematico professori in Parisiensi academia lucu- 
 lentum testamento reliquit. 
 
 i 
 
THE SECOND 
 
 DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND, 
 
 AGAINST AN ANONYMOUS LIBEL 
 
 ENTITLZD 
 
 •' THE ROYAL BLOOD CRYING TO HEAVEN FOR VENGEANCE ON THE ENGLISH PARRICIDES." 
 
 TRA5SLATBD FROM TBB LATIIf, 
 
 BY ROBERT FELLOWES, A. M. OXON. 
 
 A GRATEFUL rccollection of the divine goodness, is the 
 first of human obligations; and extraordinary favours 
 demand more solemn and devout acknowledgments; 
 with such acknowledgments I feel it my duty to begin 
 this work. First, because I was born at a time, when 
 the virtue of my fellow-citizens, far exceeding that of 
 their progenitoi-s in greatness of soul and vigour of en- 
 tcrprize, having invoked heaven to witness the justice 
 of their cause, and been clearly governed by its direc- 
 tions, has succeeded in delivering the commonwealth 
 from the most grievous tyranny, and religion from the 
 most ignominious degradation. And next, because 
 when there suddenly arose many who, as is usual with 
 the vulgar, basely calumniated the most illustrious at- 
 chievements, and when one eminent above the rest, 
 inflated with literary pride, and the zealous applauses 
 of his parlizans, had in a scandalous publication, which 
 was particularly levelled against me, nefariously un- 
 dertaken to plead the cause of despotism, I who was 
 neither deemed unequal to so renowned an adversary, 
 nor to so great a subject, was particularly selected by 
 the deliverers of our country, and by the general suf- 
 frage of the public, openly to vindicate the rights of 
 the English nation, and consequently of liberty itself 
 Lastly, because in a matter of so much moment, and 
 which excited such ardent expectations, I did not dis- 
 appoint the hopes nor the opinions of my fellow- 
 citizens ; while men of learning and eminence abroad 
 honoured me with unmingled approbation ; while I 
 obtained such a victory over my opponent, that not- 
 withstanding his unparalleled assurance, he was obliged 
 to quit the field with his courage broken and his repu- 
 tation lost ; and for the three years which he lived af- 
 terwards, much as he menaced and furiously as he 
 raved, he gave me no further trouble, except that he pro- 
 
 cured the paltry aid of some despicable hirelings, and 
 suborned some of his silly and extravagant admirers, to 
 support him under the weight of the unexpected and 
 recent disgrace which he had experienced. This will 
 immediately appear. Such are the signal favours 
 which I ascribe to the divine beneficence, and which I 
 thought it right devoutly to commemorate, not only 
 that I might discharge a debt of gratitude, but par- 
 ticularly because they seem auspicious to the success 
 of my present undertaking. For who is there, who 
 does not identify the honour of his country with his 
 own ? And what can conduce more to the beauty or 
 glory of one's country, than the recovery, not only 
 of its civil but its religious liberty .'' And v/hat na- 
 tion or state ever obtained both, by more successful 
 or more valorous exertion ? For fortitude is seen re- 
 splendent, not only in the field of battle and amid the 
 clash of arms, but displays its energy under every diffi- 
 culty and against every assailant. Those Greeks and 
 Romans, who are the objects of our admiration, em- 
 ployed hardly any other virtue in the extirpation of 
 tyrants, than that love of liberty which made them 
 prompt in seizing the sword, and gave them strength 
 to use it. With facility they accomplished the un- 
 dertaking, amid the general shout of praise and 
 joy ; nor did they engage in the attempt so much, 
 as an enterprize of perilous and doubtful issue, as in a 
 contest the most glorious in which virtue could be sig- 
 nalized ; which' infallibly led to present recompence ; 
 which bound their brows with wreaths of laurel, and 
 consigned their memories to immortal fame. For as 
 yet, tyrants were not beheld with a superstitious reve- 
 rence ; as yet they were not regarded with tenderness 
 and complacency, as the vicegerents or deputies of 
 Christ, as they have suddenly professed to be ; as yet 
 
oao 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 the vulgar, stupified by the subtle casuistry of the 
 priest, had not degenerated into a state of barbarism, 
 more gross than that which disgraces the most senseless 
 natives of Hindostan. For these make mischievous 
 demons, whose malice they cannot resist, the objects of 
 their religious adoration ; while those elevate impo- 
 tent tyrants, in order to shield them from destruction, 
 into the rank of gods ; and to their own cost, consecrate 
 the pests of the human race. But against this dark 
 array of long received opinions, superstitions, obloquy, 
 and fears, which some dread even more than the enemy 
 himself, the English had to contend ; and all this, 
 under the light of better information, and favoured by 
 an impulse from above, they overcame with such sin- 
 gular enthusiasm and bravery, that, great as were the 
 numbers engaged in the contest, the grandeur of con- 
 ception, and loftiness of spirit which were universally 
 displayed, merited for each individual more than a me- 
 diocrity of fame ; and Britain, which was formerly 
 styled the hot-bed of tyranny, will hereafter deserve to 
 be celebrated for endless ages, as a soil most genial to 
 the growth of liberty. During the mighty struggle, 
 no anarchy, no licentiousness was seen ; no illusions 
 of glory, no extravagant emulation of the antients in- 
 flamed them with a thirst for ideal liberty ; but the rec- 
 titude of their lives, and the sobriety of their habits, 
 taught them the only true and safe road to real liberty; 
 and they took up arms only to defend the sanctity of 
 the laws, and the rights of conscience. Relying on 
 the divine assistance, they used every honourable ex- 
 ertion to break the yoke of slavery ; of the praise of 
 which, though I claim no share to myself, yet I can 
 easily repel any charge which may be adduced against 
 me, either of want of courage, or want of zeal. For 
 though I did not participate in the toils or dangers of 
 the war, yet I was at the same time engaged in a ser- 
 vice not less hazardous to myself, and more beneficial 
 to my fellow-citizens ; nor, in the adverse turns of our 
 affairs, did I ever betray any symptoms of pusillanimity 
 and dejection ; or shew myself more afraid than be- 
 came me, of malice or of death : For since from my 
 youth I was devoted to the pursuits of literature, and 
 my mind had always been stronger than my body, I 
 did not court the labours of a camp, in which any com- 
 mon person would have been of more service than my- 
 self, but resorted to that employment in which my ex- 
 ertions were likely to be of most avail. Thus, with the 
 better part of my frame, I contributed as much as 
 possible to the good of my country, and to the success 
 of the glorious cause in which we were engaged ; and 
 I thought, that if God willed the success of such glorious 
 atchievements, it was equally agreeable to his will, 
 that there should be others by whom those atchieve- 
 ments should be recorded with dignity and elegance ; 
 and that the truth, which had been defended by arms, 
 should also be defended by reason ; which is the best 
 and only legitimate means of defending it. Hence, 
 while I applaud those who were victorious in the field, 
 I will not complain of the province which was assigned 
 me; but rather congratulate myself upon it, and thank 
 the author of all good for having placed me in a sta- 
 
 tion, which may be an object of envy to others, rather 
 than of regret to myself. I am far from wishing to 
 make any vain or arrogant comparisons, or to speak 
 ostentatiously of myself, but, in a cause so great and 
 glorious, and particularly on an occasion when I am 
 called by the general suffrage to defend the very de- 
 fenders of that cause ; I can hardly refrain from as- 
 suming a more lofty and swelling tone, than the 
 simplicity of an exordium may seem to justify : and 
 much as I may be surpassed in the powers of eloquence, 
 and copiousness of diction, by the illustrious orators of 
 antiquity ; yet the subject of which I treat, was never 
 surpassed in any age, in dignity or in interest. It has 
 excited such general and such ardent expectation, that 
 I imagine myself not in the forum or on the rostra, 
 surrounded only by the people of Athens or of Rome ; 
 but about to address in this as I did in my former de- 
 fence, the whole collectivebody of people, cities, states, 
 and councils of the wise and emiuent, through the 
 wide expanse of anxious and listening Europe. I seem 
 to survey as from a towering height, the far extended 
 tracts of sea and land, and innumerable crowds of spec- 
 tators, betraying in their looks the liveliest interest, 
 and sensations the most congenial with my own. Here 
 I behold the stout and manly prowess of the Germans, 
 disdaining servitude ; there the generous and lively 
 impetuosity of the French ; on this side, the calm and 
 stately valour of the Spaniard ; on that, the composed 
 and wary magnanimity of the Italian. Of all the 
 lovers of liberty and virtue, the magnanimous and the 
 wise, in whatever quarter they may be found, some 
 secretly favour, others openly approve ; some greet me 
 with congratulations and applause ; others, who had 
 long been proof against conviction, at last yield them- 
 selves captive to the force of truth. Surrounded by 
 congregated multitudes, I now imagine, that, from the 
 columns of Hercules to the Indian ocean, I behold the 
 nations of the earth recovering that liberty which they 
 so long had lost; and that the people of this island are 
 transporting to other countries a plant of more benefi- 
 cial qualities, and more noble growth, than that which 
 Triptolemus is reported to have carried from region 
 to region ; that they are disseminating the blessings of 
 civilization and freedom among cities, kingdoms, and 
 nations. Nor shall I approach unknown, nor per- 
 haps unloved, if it be told that I am the same person 
 who engaged in single combat that fierce advocate of 
 despotism; till then reputed invincible in the opinion 
 of many, and in his own conceit ; who insolently 
 challenged us and our armies to the combat ; hut 
 whom, while I repelled his virulence, I silenced with 
 his own weapons ; and over whom, if I may trust to 
 the opinions of impartial judges, I gained a complete 
 and glorious victory. That this is the plain unvar- 
 nished fact appears from this ; that, after the most noble 
 queen of Sweden, than whom there neither is nor ever 
 was a personage more attached to literature and to 
 learned men, had invited Salmasius or Salmasia (for 
 to which sex he belonged is a matter of uncertainty) 
 to her court, where he was received with great dis- 
 tinction, my defence suddenly surprized him in the 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 921 
 
 midst of bis security. It was generally read, and by 
 the queen among the rest, who, attentive to the dig- 
 nity of her station, let the stranger experience no di- 
 minution of her former kindness and munificence. 
 But, with respect to the rest, if I may assert what has 
 been often told, and was matter of public notoriety, such 
 a change was instantly effected in the public senti- 
 ment, that he, who but yesterday flourished in the 
 highest degree of favour, seemed to day to wither in 
 neglect ; and soon after receiving permission to depart, 
 he left it doubtful among many, whether he were more 
 honoured when he came, or more disgraced when be 
 went away ; and even in other places it is clear, that 
 it occasioned no small loss to his reputation ; and all 
 this I have mentioned, not from any futile motives of 
 vanity or ostentation, but that I might clearly show, as 
 I proposed in the beginning, what momentous reasons 
 I had for commencing this work with an effusion of 
 gratitude to the Father of the universe. Such a preface 
 was most honourable and appropriate, in which I might 
 prove, by an enumeration of particulars, that I had not 
 been without my share of human misery; but that I 
 had, at the same time, experienced singular marks of 
 the divine regard ; that in topics of the highest con- 
 cern, the most connected with the exigencies of my 
 country, and the most beneficial to civil and religious 
 liberty ; the supreme wisdom and beneficence had in- 
 vigorated and enlarged my faculties, to defend the 
 dearest interests, not merely of one people, but of the 
 whole human race, against the enemies of human li- 
 berty ; as it were in a full concourse of all the nations 
 on the earth : And I again invoke the same Almighty 
 Being, that I may still be able with the same integrity, 
 the same diligence, and the same success, to defend 
 those actions which have been so gloriously atchievcd ; 
 while I vindicate the authors as well as myself, whose 
 name has been associated with theirs, not so much for 
 the sake of honour as disgrace, from unmerited igno- 
 miny and reproach ; but if there are any, who think 
 that it would have been better to have passed over 
 these in silent contempt, I should agree with them, if 
 they had been dispersed only among those who were 
 thoroughly acquainted with our principles and our 
 conduct ; but, how were strangers to discover the false 
 assertions of our adversaries ? When proper pains have 
 been taken to make the vindication as extensive as the 
 calumny, I think that they will cease to think ill of us, 
 and that he will be ashamed of the falsehoods which 
 he has promulgated ; but, if be be past the feeling of 
 shame, we may then well leave him to contempt. I 
 should sooner have prepared an answer to his invective, 
 if he had not entrenched himself in unfounded rumours 
 and frequent denunciations that Salmasius was labour- 
 ing at the anvil, and fabricating new libels against us, 
 which would soon make their appearance ; by which 
 he obtained only a short delay of vengeance and of 
 punishment ; for I thought it right to reserve my whole 
 sti'ength unimpaired against the more potent adversary. 
 But the conflict between me and Salmasius is now 
 finallj' terminated by his death ; and I will not write 
 against the dead ; uor will I reproach him with the 
 
 loss of life as he did me with the loss of sight; though 
 there are some, who impute his death to the penetrating 
 severity of my strictures, which he rendered only the 
 more sharp by his endeavours to resist. When he saw 
 the work which he had in hand proceed slowly on, the 
 time of reply elapsed, the public curiosity subsided, his 
 fame marred, and his reputation lost; the favour of the 
 princes, whose cause he had so ill-defended, alienated, 
 he was destroyed after three years of grief rather by 
 the force of depression than disease. However this 
 may be, if I must wage even a posthumous war with 
 an enemy whose strength I so well know, whose most 
 vigorous and impetuous attacks I so easily sustained, 
 there seems no reason why I should dread the languid 
 exertions of his dying hour. 
 
 But now, at last, let us come to this thing, whatever 
 it may be, that provokes us to the combat ; though I 
 hear, indeed, the cry not of the royal blood, as the title 
 pretends, but that of some skulking and drivelling mis- 
 creant. Well, I beseech, h ho are you ? a man, or no- 
 body at all .'* Certainly one of the dregs of men, for 
 even slaves are not without a name. Shall I always 
 have to contend with anonymous scribblers ? though 
 they would willingly indeed pass for kings' men, but I 
 much doubt whether they can make kings believe that 
 they are. The followers and friends of kings are not 
 ashamed of kings. How then are these the friends of 
 kings."* They make no contributions; they more 
 willingly receive them ; they will not even lend their 
 names to the support of the royal cause. What then ? 
 they support it by their pen; but even this service they 
 have not sufficient liberality to render gratuitously to 
 their kings ; nor have they the courage to affix their 
 names to their productions. But though, O anonymous 
 Sirs ! I might plead the example of your Claudius, 
 who composed a plausible work concerning the rights 
 of kings, but without having respect enough either for 
 me or for the subject to put his name to the production, 
 I should think it scandalous to undertake the discussion 
 of so weighty a subject, while I concealed my name. 
 What I, in a republic, openly attempt against kings, 
 why do you in a monarchy, and under the patronage of 
 kings, notdare to do except clandestinely and by stealth .'' 
 Why do you, trembling with apprehension in the midst 
 of security, and seeking darkness in the midst of light, 
 depreciate the power and the majesty of sovereigns by a 
 cowardice, which must excite both hatred and distrust."* 
 Do you suspect that you have no protection in the 
 power of kings .'* But surely, thus skulking in obscu- 
 rity and prowling in disguise, you seem to have come 
 not so much as advocates to maintain the right of 
 kings as thieves to rob the treasury. What I am, I 
 ingenuously profess to be. The prerogative which I 
 deny to kings, I would persist in denying in any legi- 
 timate monarchy ; for no sovereign could injure me 
 without first condemning himself by a confession of 
 his despotism. If I inveigh against tyrants, what is 
 this to kings ? whom I am far from associating with 
 tyrants. As much as an honest man differs from a 
 rogue, so much I contend that a king difl^ers from a 
 tyrant. Whence it is clear, that a tyrant is so far from 
 
MS 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 being' a king-, that be is always in direct opposition to 
 a king-. And be who peruses the records of history, 
 will find that more king^ have been subverted by 
 tyrants than by their subjects. He, therefore, who 
 would authorise the destruction of tyrants, does not 
 authorise the destruction of kin^-s, but of tiie most in- 
 veterate enemies to kings. But that right, which you 
 concede to kings, the right of doing what they please, 
 is not justice, but injustice, ruin and despair. By that 
 envenomed present you yourselves destroy those, whom 
 you extol as if they were above the reach of danger 
 and oppression ; and you quite obliterate the difference 
 between a king and a tyrant, if you invest both with 
 the same arbitrary power. For, if a king does not 
 exercise that power, (and no king will exercise it as 
 long as he is not a tyrant,) the power must be ascribed, 
 not to the king, but to the individual. For, what can 
 be imagined more absurd than that regal prerogative, 
 which, if any one uses, as often as be wishes to act 
 the king, so often he ceases to be an honest man ; and 
 as often as he chooses to be an honest man, so often 
 he must evince that he is not a king."" Can any more 
 bitter reproach be cast upon kings ? He who main- 
 tains this prerogative, must himself be a monster of 
 injustice and iniquity ; for how can there be a worse 
 person than him, who must himself first verify the 
 exaggerated picture of atrocity which he delineates .' 
 But if every good man, as an ancient sect of philo- 
 sophers magnificently taught, is a king, it follows 
 that every bad one is, according to his capacity, 
 a tyrant ; nor does the name of tyrant signify any 
 thing soaring or illustrious, but the meanest reptile 
 on the earth ; for in proportion as he is great, he is 
 contemptible and abject. Othcre arc vicious only for 
 themselves : but tyrants are vicious, not only for them- 
 selves, but are even involuntarily obliged to partici- 
 pate in the crimes of their importunate menials and 
 favourites, and to entrust certain portions of their 
 despotism to the vilest of their dependants. Tyrants 
 are thus the most abject of slaves, for they are the 
 servants of those who are themselves in servitude. 
 This name therefore may be rightly applied to the 
 most insignificant pugilist of tyranny, or even to this 
 brawler; who, why he should strenuously clamour 
 for the interests of despotism, will sufficiently appear 
 from what has been said already, and what will be 
 said in the sequel ; as also why this hireling chooses 
 to conceal bis name. Treading in the steps of Salma- 
 sius, he has prostituted his cry for the royal blood, and 
 either blushing for the disgrace of his erudition, or the 
 flagitiousness of bis life, it is not strange that he should 
 wish to be concealed ; or perhaps he is watching an 
 opportunity, wherever he may scent some richer odours 
 of emolument, to desert the cause of kings, and trans- 
 fer his services to some future republic. This was the 
 manner of Salmasius, who, captivated by the love of 
 gain, apostatised, even when sinking in years, from 
 the orthodox to the episcopalians, from the popular 
 parly to the royalists. Thou brawler, then, from the 
 stews, who thou art thou in vain endeavourest to con- 
 ceal ; believe me, you will be dragged to light, nor 
 
 will the helmet of Pluto any longer serve you for a 
 disguise. And you will swear downright, as long as 
 you live, eitlier that I am not blind, or that I was 
 quicksightcd enough to detect you in the labyrinth of 
 imposture. Attend then, while I relate who he is, 
 from whom descended, by what expectations he was 
 led, or by what blandishments soothed to advocate the 
 royal cause. 
 
 There is one More, part Frenchman and part Scot, 
 so that one country, or one people, cannot be quite 
 overwhelmed with the whole infamy of his extraction; 
 an unprincipled miscreant, and proved not only by the 
 general testimony of his enemies, but even by that of 
 his dearest friends, whom he has alienated by his in- 
 sincerity, to be a monster of perfidy, falsehood, ingra- 
 titude, and malevolence, the perpetual slanderer, not 
 only of men, but of women, whose chastity he is no 
 more accustomed to regard than their reputation. To 
 pass over the more obscure transactions of his youth, 
 he first made his appearance as a teacher of the Greek 
 language at Geneva; where he could not divest him- 
 self either of the knave or fool ; but where, even while 
 secretly conscious, though perhaps not yet publicly 
 convicted of so many enormities, be bad the audacity 
 to solicit the office of pastor in the church, and to pro- 
 fane the character by his crimes. But his debauch- 
 eries, his pride, and the general profligacies of his con- 
 duct, could not long escape the censure of the Presby- 
 ters; after being condemned for many heresies, which 
 he basely recanted, and to which he still as impiously 
 adhered, he was at last openly found guilty of adul- 
 tery. He had conceived a violent passion for the 
 maid-servant of his host, and even after she was mar- 
 ried to another, did not cease to solicit the gratification 
 of his lust. The neighbours often observed them 
 together in close converse under a shed in the garden. 
 But you will say this might have no reference to any 
 criminal amours ; he might have conversed upon hor- 
 ticulture, and have read lectures on the art, to the 
 untutored and curious girl ; he might one while have 
 praised the beauty of the parterres, or regretted the 
 absence of shade ; he might have inserted a mulberry 
 in a fig, and thence have rapidly raised a progeny of 
 sycamores; a cooling bower; and might then have 
 taught the art of grafting to the fair. All this and 
 more he might, no doubt, have done. But all this 
 would not satisfy the Presbyters, who passed sentence 
 on him as an adulterer, and judged him unworthy of 
 the ecclesiastical functions. The heads of those, and 
 other accusations of the like kind, are still preserved 
 in the public library at Geneva. But, even after this 
 had become matter of public notoriety, he was invited, 
 at the instance of Salmasius, to officiate in the French 
 church at Middleburgh. This gave great offence to J 
 Spanheim, a man of singular erudition and integrity; i 
 who was well acquainted with his character at Gene- 
 va, though at last, but not without the most violent op- 
 position, he succeeded in obtaining letters testimonial 
 from the Genevese, but these only on the condition that 
 he should leave the place, and couched in expressions 
 rather bordering on censure than on praise. As soon 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 923 
 
 as he arrived in Holland, he went to pay his respects 
 to Salmasius ; where he immediatel}' cast his libidinous 
 looks on his wife's maid, whose name was Pontia; for 
 the fellow's lust is always inflamed by cooks and wait- 
 inff-maids; hence he beg-an to pay assiduous court to 
 Salmasius, and, as often as he had opportunity, to Pontia. 
 I know not whether Salmasius, taken by the busy at- 
 tentions and unintermitted adulation of More, or More 
 thinking that it would favour his purpose of meeting' 
 Pontia, which first caused their conversation to turn on 
 the answer of Milton to Salmasius. But, however this 
 might be, More undertook to defend Salmasius, and 
 Salmasius promises to obtain for More the divinity- 
 chair in that city. Besides this. More promises him- 
 self other sweets in his clandestine amour with Pontia; 
 for, under pretext of consulting Salmasius in the pro- 
 secution of this work, he had free admission to the house 
 at all hours of the night or day. And, as formerly 
 Pyranius was changed into a mulberry tree, so More* 
 seems suddenly transformed into Pyramus; but in pro- 
 portion as he was more criminal, so he was more fortu- 
 nate than that youth. He had no occasion to seek for 
 a chink in the wall ; he had every facility of carrying 
 on his intrigue with his Thisbe under the same roof. 
 He promises her marriage; and, under the lure of this 
 promise, violates her chastity. O shame ! a minister 
 of the gospel abuses the confidence of friendship to 
 commit this atrocious crime. From this amour no com- 
 mon prodigy accrued ; for both man and woman suffer- 
 ed the pains of parturition : Pontia conceived a morill,f 
 which long afforded employment to the natural disqui- 
 sitions of Salmasius ; More, the barren and windy ef:;g ; 
 from which issued that flatulent cry of the royal blood. 
 The sight of this eg^:; indeed, at first, caused our mo- 
 narchy-men, who were famishing in Belgium, to lick 
 their chops; but the shell was no sooner broken, than 
 they loathed the addle and putrid contents; for More, 
 not a little elated with his conception, and thinking 
 that he had obliged the whole Orange faction, had be- 
 gun to anticipate a new accession of professorships and 
 chairs, when he deserted his poor pregnant Pontia, as 
 beneath his notice, to indigence and misfortune. She 
 complained to the synod and the magistrates, of the 
 injuries and the treachery which she had experienced. 
 Thus the matter was brought to light, and afforded 
 subject for merriment and observation in almost all 
 places and companies. Hence some ingenious person 
 MTote this distich, 
 
 Galli ex concubitu gravidam te, Pontia, Mori, 
 Quis bene moratam morigeramque negat ? X 
 
 O Pontia, teeming with More's Gallic seed. 
 You have been Mor'd enough, and no more need. 
 
 Pontia alone was not seen to smile; but she gained 
 nothing by complaint ; for the cry of the royal blood 
 soon overwhelmed the clamour about the rape, and the 
 cries of the ruined fair. Salmasius deeply resented the 
 injury and insult which were thus offered to himself 
 and his family; and the derision to which he was ex- 
 
 " Morns, Ihc Latin name for mulberry, 
 t A little More, or mulberry. 
 
 posed by bis courteous and admiring friend ; and per- 
 haps this misfortune, added to his other mishaps in the 
 royal cause, might have contributed to accelerate his 
 end. But on this hereafter. In the mean time, Salma- 
 sius, with the fate of Salmasia, (for the fable is as ap- 
 propriate as the name,) little thinking that in More he 
 had got an hermaphrodite associate, as incapable of 
 parturition as of procreation, without knowing what he 
 had begot for him in the house, fondles the fruit of his 
 travail, the book in which he was styled Great; justly 
 periiaps in his own opinion, but very unfitly and ridi- 
 culously in that of other people. He hastens to the 
 printer; and, in vain endeavouring to keep possession 
 of the fame which was vanishing from his grasp, he 
 anxiously attends as a midwife the public delivery of 
 those praises, or rather vile flatteries, which he had so 
 rapaciously sought this fellow and others to bestow. 
 For this purpose Flaccus seemed the most proper per- 
 son that could be found ; him he readily pereuades, not 
 only to print the book, which nobody would have 
 blamed, but also publicly to profess himself the author 
 of a letter to Charles, filled with the most calumnious 
 aspersions against me, whom he had never known. 
 But when I shew, as I can from good authority, how 
 he has acted towards others, it will be the less astonish- 
 ing why be should so readily be prevailed on to com- 
 mence such a wanton and unprovoked attack upon me; 
 and with so little consideration, to father another's ex- 
 travagance of slander and invective. Flaccus, whose 
 country is unknown, was an itinerant bookseller, a no- 
 torious prodigal and cheat ; for a long time he carried 
 on a clandestine trade in London ; from which city, 
 after practising innumerable frauds, he ran away in 
 debt. He afterwards lived at Paris, during the whole 
 reign of James, an object of distrust and a monster of 
 extortion. From this place he made his escape ; and 
 now does not dare to approach within many miles ; at 
 present he makes his appearance as a regenerated book- 
 seller at the Hague, ready to perform any nefarious 
 and dirty work to which he may be invited. And as a 
 proof how little he cares what he says or what he does, 
 there is nothing so sacred which a trifling bribe would 
 not tempt him to betray ; and I shall bring forward his 
 own confession to shew that his virulence against me was 
 not prompted, as might be supposed, by any zeal for 
 the public good. When be found that what I had writ- 
 ten against Salmasius had a considerable sale, he writes 
 to some of my friends to persuade me to let any future 
 publication of mine issue from his press ; and promises a 
 great degree of elegance in the typographical execution. 
 I replied, that I had, at that time, no work by me ready 
 for the press. But lo! he, who had lately made me 
 such an officious proffer of his services, soon appears, 
 not only as the printer, but the (suborned) author of a 
 most scandalous libel upon my character. My friends 
 express their indignation ; he replies with unabashed 
 effrontery, that he is quite astonished at their simplicity 
 and ignorance of the world, in supposing that he should 
 suffer any notions of right or wrong to disturb his cal- 
 
 t It is impossible to give a literally exact rendering of this ; I have 
 played upon the name as well as I could in English. — R. ¥. 
 
AM 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 culations of profit and his speculations of gain : that he 
 had received that letter from Salmasius together with the 
 book ; that he begged him to publish it on his own ac- 
 count, in the way he bad done ; and that, if Milton or 
 any other person thought fit to write an answer, he 
 should have no hesitation in printing it, if they would 
 employ him in the business. This was nothing else 
 than to say that he would readily publish an invective 
 against Salmasius, or King Charles ; for the reply 
 could relate to no other persons. It is needless to say 
 more. I have unmasked the man; I proceed toothers; 
 for he is not the only one who has served to embellish 
 this tragic cry of the royal blood. Here then are the 
 actors in the drama. The brawling prolocutor, the 
 profligate Flaccus, or, if you bad rather, Salmasius, 
 habited in the mask and cloak of Flaccus, two poetas- 
 ters drunk with stale beer, and More famed for adultery 
 and rape. A marvellous company of tragedians ! and 
 an honest set for me to engage ! But as such a cause 
 was not likely to procure adversaries of a different 
 stamp ; let us now proceed to the attack of the individ- 
 uals, such as they are ; only first premising that, if any 
 one think my refutation wanting in gravity, he should 
 recollect, that I have not to contend with a weighty foe, 
 but only a merry-andrew host ; and that in such a 
 work, instead of labouring to give it thi'oughout the 
 highest polish of elegance, it was right to consider 
 what diction might be most appropriate to such a crew. 
 
 The Royal Blood crying to heaven for vengeance on the 
 English parricides. 
 
 Your narrative, O More, would have had a greater 
 appearance of truth, if you had first shewn that his 
 blood was not justly shed. But as in the first dawn 
 of the reformation, the monks, from their dearth of ar- 
 gument, had recourse to spectres and other impositions, 
 so you, when nothing else will stand you in any stead, 
 call in the aid of voices which were never heard, and 
 superstitious tricks that have long been out of date. 
 You would not readily give any of us credit for having 
 beard a voice from heaven; but I could with little dif- 
 ficulty believe that you did actually hear a voice from 
 hell. Yet, I beseech you, who heard this cry of the 
 royal blood? Yourself.' Mere trash; for first you 
 never hear any thing good.* But that cry which 
 mounts to heaven, if any but God hear, it can only be 
 the upright and the pure ; who, themselves, unstained 
 with crimes, may well denounce the divine vengeance 
 against the guilty. But how could you possibly hear 
 it ? or, as a catamite, would you write a satire against 
 lust ? For you seem, at the same time, to have fabricated 
 this miraculous cry to heaven and to have consummated 
 your amour with Pontia. There are not only many 
 impediments in your sense, but many evU incrustations 
 about your heart, which would for ever prevent such 
 cries from reaching your ears; and if nothing else did, 
 the many cries which are continually ascending to 
 heaven against your own enormities would be sufficient 
 for the purpose. The voice of that harlot, whom you 
 * LiaiD.malo audi*. Tb«re is • play upon the words. 
 
 debauched in tiic garden, and who complains that you, 
 her religious teacher, was the author of her seduction 
 demands vengeance against you. Vengeance is de- 
 manded against you by the husband, whose nuptial 
 bed you defiled ; it is demanded by Pontia, to whom 
 you perjured your nuptial vow; it is demanded by that 
 little innocent whom you caused to be born in shame, 
 and then left to perish without support. — All these 
 different cries for vengeance on your guilty head are 
 continually ascending to the throne of God ; which if 
 you do not hear, it is certain that the cry of the royal 
 blood you could never have heard. Thus your book, 
 instead of the royal blood crying to heaven, might 
 more fitly be entitled " More's lascivious neighing for 
 his Pontia." Of that tiresome and addle epistle, which 
 follows, part is devoted to Charles, part to Milton, to 
 exalt the one, and to vilify the other. Take a speci- 
 men from the beginning: " The dominions of Charles," 
 he says, " were thrown into the sacrilegious hands of 
 parricides and Deicides." I shall not stay to consider 
 whether this rant be the product of Salmasius, of 
 More, or of Flaccus. But this, which makes others 
 laugh, may well make Charles rave ; for a little after 
 he says that " no one was more devoted to the interests 
 of Charles." What truly ! was there no one more de- 
 voted to his interests than you, who offered to publish 
 and to circulate the invectives of his enemies? How 
 wretched and forlorn must be the situation of Chailes, 
 if a scoundrel of a printer dare to rank himself among 
 his most confidential friends? Wretched indeed must, 
 he be, if the perfidious Flaccus equal his dearest friends 
 in fidelity and affection ! But could the fellow liave 
 spoken any thing either more arrogantly of himself, 
 or more contemptuously of the king and the king's 
 friends ? Nor is it less ridiculous that a low-lived me- 
 chanic should be brought upon the stage to philosophise 
 on the principles of government, and the virtues 
 kings ; and to speak in a tone as lofty as even Salma 
 sius or More. But indeed on this as well as other oc-1 
 casions I have discovered evident indications that Sal-j 
 masius, notwithstanding the multiplicity of his reading, 
 was a man of puerile judgment, and without any know- 
 ledge of the world ; for though he must have read 
 that the chief magistrates, in the well-arranged 
 government of Sparta, were always wont to ascribe to 
 some virtuous citizen the merit of ewery good saying 
 which the worthless and the profligate might occasion- 
 ally pronounce, he has shewn himself so utterly igno-^ 
 rant of all that is called proprietj", as to ascribe to the 
 vilest of men, sentiments which could become only the 
 good and wise. Keep up your spirits, Charles ; for the 
 old rogue Flaccus, whose faith in providence is so 
 great, tells you not to be depressed. Do not succumb 
 under so many sufferings. Flaccus, the most unprin- 
 cipled prodigal, who so soon lost all that he ever bad, 
 tells you not to despond when all is lost. Make the 
 best of your ill-starred fortune. And can you help 
 making the best of it when he advises, who, for so 
 many years, by every species of peculation and iniquity, 
 has been wont to subsist on the fortunes of others? 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 925 
 
 *' Drink deep of wisdom, for you are plunged in wis- 
 dom's pool." So counsels, so directs jolly Flaccus, the 
 unrivalled preceptor of kings, who, seizing the leathern 
 flaggon with his ink-smeared hands, drinks among his 
 fellow workmen a huge draught to the success of your 
 philosophy. This dares Flaccus, your incomparable 
 partizan, who signs his name to admonitions, which 
 Salmasius, which More, and your other advocates, have 
 too little courage, or too much pride, to own. For, as 
 often as you have any need of admonition or defence, 
 they are always anonymously wise or brave ; and at 
 another's hazard rather than their own. Let this fel- 
 low therefore, whoever be may be, cease to make a 
 barren boast of his vigorous and animated eloquence ; 
 for the author truly " fears to divulge his name, which 
 has become so renowned by the exertions of his genius." 
 But he had not the courage, even in that work which 
 was to avenge the royal blood, to prefix a dedication to 
 Charles without the vicarious aid of Flaccus, in whose 
 words he was contented to say that, " if it might be 
 permitted, he would dedicate the book to his majesty 
 without a name." Thus having done with Charles, he 
 next puts himself in a menacing posture against rac. 
 "After this proocmium" the wonderful " Siilmasius 
 will make the trumpet blow a deadly blast." You an- 
 nounce a new kind of harmony ; for to the terrors of 
 that loud-sounding instrument no symphony bears so 
 close a resemblance as that which is produced by ac- 
 cumulated flatulency. But I advise Salmasius not to 
 raise the notes of this trumpet to too high a pitch ; for, 
 the louder the tones, the more Le will expose himself 
 to a slap on the chops; which, while both his cheeks 
 ring, will give a delightful flow to his well-propor- 
 tioned melodies. You chatter on, " who has not his 
 equal, nor near his equal, in the whole literary and 
 scientific world." What assurance! Ye men of eru- 
 dition, scattered over the world, can you think it pos- 
 sible that a preference over you all should be given to 
 a grammatical louse, whose only treasure of merit, and 
 hope of fame, consisted in a glossary ; and who would 
 at last be found to deserve nothing but contempt, if a 
 comparison were instituted between him and men 
 really learned. But this would not be affirmed by any 
 except the lowest driveller, more destitute of under- 
 standing than even Flaccus himself. "And who has 
 now employed in the service of your majesty, a stu- 
 pendous mass of erudition, illuminated by a genius 
 quite divine." If you recollect what I said above, that 
 Salmasius took this letter, m hich was either written by 
 himself or one of his creatures, to the printer, and in- 
 treated the servile artificer to affix his own name to the 
 publication, you will discover the indisputable marks 
 of a mind truly grovelling and contemptible ; basely 
 wooing a panegyrick on itself, and sedulously procur- 
 ing, even from a fool, an unbounded prodigality of 
 praise. " An incomparable and immortal work, which 
 it is fruitless to revile, and in which it must astonish 
 even the regular practitioners of the law, how a French- 
 man should so soon bring himself to understand and to 
 explain the English history, the laws, statutes, records, 
 &c." Indeed how little he understood our laws, and 
 
 how much he spoke at random on the subject, we have 
 produced abundant evidence to shew. " But he will 
 soon, in another impression which he is preparing 
 against the rebels, stop the mouths of rcvilers, and 
 chastise Milton according to his deserts." You, there- 
 fore, as that little avant courier of a fish, run before the 
 Salmasian whale, which threatens an attack upon our 
 coast ; we sharpen our harpoons to elicit any oil or gall 
 which his impetuous vengeance may contain. In the 
 mean time we admire the more than Pythagorean ten- 
 derness of this prodigy of a man, who compassionating 
 animals, and particularly fish, to whose flesh even Lent 
 shews no indulgence, destined so many volumes to the 
 decent apparelling of myriads of poor sprats and her- 
 rings, and bequeathed by will a paper coat to each. 
 
 Rejoice, ye herrings, and ye ocean fry. 
 Who, in cold winter, shiver in the sea ; 
 The knight, Salmasius, pitying your hard lot. 
 Bounteous intends your nakedness to clothe. 
 And, lavish of his paper, is preparing 
 Chartaceous jackets to invest you all. 
 Jackets resplendent with his arms and fame, 
 Exultingly parade the fishy mart, 
 And sing his praise with checquered livery. 
 That well might serve to grace the Ictter'd store 
 Of those, who pick their noses and ne'er read. 
 
 This I wrote on the long expected edition of his far- 
 famed work ; in printing which he was strenuously en- 
 gaged, while you, sir, were polluting his house by your 
 scandalous amour with Pontia. And Salmasius appears 
 to have long and industriously applied himself to the 
 execution ; for, only a few days before his death, when 
 a learned person, from whom I received the information, 
 sent to ask him when he would publish the second part 
 of his argument against the supremacy of the Pope; 
 he replied, that he should not return to that work till 
 he had completed his labours against Milton. Thus 
 I was preferred before the Pope ; and that supremacy 
 which he denied to him in the church, he gratuitously 
 bestowed on me in his resentment. Thus I seem to 
 have furnished a timely succour against his subversion 
 of the papacy ; and to have saved the Roman capital 
 from the irruption of a second Catiline, not indeed like 
 the Consul Tully, by the fasces of office, or the pre- 
 monitions of a dream, but by very different means. 
 Surely many cardinals' caps will be due to me on this 
 account ; and I fear lest the Roman Pontiff, by the 
 transfer of a title, which lately belonged to our kings, 
 should salute me with the appellation of Defender of 
 the Faith. You see under what a cloud of disgrace 
 Salmasius laboured to depress me. But ought he to 
 have relinquished a post of honourable exertion to 
 mingle in foreign controversies, or to have deserted the 
 service of the church for political and external dis- 
 cussions, in which he had no knowledge and no con- 
 cern ? Ought he to have made a truce with the Pope ? 
 and, what was most base of all, after the utmost bitter- 
 ness of hostility, to have sought a reconciliation with 
 the Bishops ? Let us now come to the charges which 
 were brought against myself. Is there any thing re- 
 prehensible in my manners or my conduct ? Surely 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 nothing. What no one, not totally divested of all ge- 
 nerous sensibility, would have done, he reproaches me 
 with want of beauty and loss of sight. 
 
 A monster huge and hideous void of sight. 
 
 I certainly never supposed that I should have been 
 obliged to enter into a competition for beauty with 
 the Cyclops ; but he immediately corrects himself, and 
 says, " though not indeed huge, for there cannot be a 
 more spare, shrivelled, and bloodless form." It is of 
 no moment to say any thing of personal appearance, 
 yet lest (as the Spanish vulgar, implicitly confiding in 
 the relations of their priests, believe of heretics) any 
 one, from the representations of my enemies, should be 
 led to imagine that I have either the head of a dog, or 
 the horn of a rhinoceros, I will say something on the 
 subject, that I may have an opportunity of paying my 
 grateful acknowledgements to the Deity, and of refut- 
 ing the most shameless lies. I do not believe that I 
 was ever once noted for deformity, by any one who 
 ever saw me ; but the praise of beauty I am not 
 anxious to obtain. My stature certainly is not tall ; 
 but it rather approaches the middle than the diminu- 
 tive. Yet what if it were diminutive, when so many 
 men, illustrious both in peace and war, have been the 
 same.'' And how can that be called diminutive, which 
 is great enough for every virtuous achievement ? Nor, 
 though very thin, was I ever deficient in courage or 
 in strength ; and I was wont constantly to exercise 
 myself in llie use of the sword, as long as it comported 
 with my habits and my yeai-s. Armed with this 
 weapon, as I usually was, I should have thought my- 
 self quite a match for any one, though much stronger 
 than myself; and I felt perfectly secure against the 
 assault of any open enemy. At this moment I have 
 the same courage, the same strength, though not 
 the same eyes ; yet so little do they betray any exter- 
 nal appearance of injury, that tht-y are as unclouded 
 and bright as the eyes of those who most distinctly 
 see. In this instance alone I am a dissembler against 
 my will. My face, which is said to indicate a total 
 privation of blood, is of a complexion entirely opposite 
 to the pale and tljc cadaverous; so that, though I am 
 more than forty years old, there is scarcely any one to 
 whom I do not appear ten years younger than I am ; 
 and the smoothness of my skin is not, in the least, 
 affected by the wrinkles of age. If there be one par- 
 ticle of falsehood in this relation, I should deservedly 
 incur the ridicule of many thousands of my country- 
 men, and even many foreigners to whom I am per- 
 sonally known. But if he, in a matter so foreign to 
 his purpose, shall be found to have asserted so many 
 shameless and gratuitous falsehoods, you may the 
 more readily estimate the quantity of his veracity on 
 other topics. Thus much necessity compelled me to 
 assert concerning my personal appearance. Respect- 
 ing yours, though I have been informed that it is most 
 insignificant and contemptible, a perfect mirror of the 
 worthlessncss of your character and the malevolence 
 of your heart, I say nothing, and no one will be 
 anxious that any thing should be said. I wish that I 
 
 could with equal facility refute what this barbarous 
 opponent has said of my blindness; but I cannot do 
 it; and I must submit to the affliction. It is not so 
 wretched to be blind, as it is not to be capable of en- 
 during blindness. But why should I not endure a 
 misfortune, which it behoves every one to be prepared 
 to endure if it should happen ; which may, in the com- 
 mon course of things, happen to any man ; and which 
 has been known to happen to the most distinguished 
 and virtuous persons in history. Shall I mention 
 those wise and ancient bards, whose misfortunes the 
 gods are said to have compensated by superior endow- 
 ments, and whom men so much revered, that they 
 chose rather to impute their want of sight to the in- 
 justice of heaven than to their own want of innocence 
 or virtue ? What is reported of the Augur Tiregias is 
 well known ; of whom ApoUonius sung thus in his 
 Argonauts ; 
 
 To men he dar'd the will divine disclose. 
 Nor fear'd what Jove might in his wrath impose. 
 The gods assigned him age, without decay. 
 But snatch'd the blessing of his sight away. 
 
 But God himself is truth ; in propagating which, as 
 men display a greater integrity and zeal, they approach 
 nearer to the similitude of God, and possess a greater 
 portion of his love. We cannot suppose the Deity en- 
 vious of truth, or unwilling that it should be freely 
 communicated to mankind. The loss of sight, there- 
 fore, which this inspired sage, who was so eager in 
 promoting knowledge among men, sustained, cannot 
 be considered as a judicial punishment. Or shall I 
 mention those worthies who were as distinguished for 
 wisdom in the cabinet, as for valour in the field .'' And 
 first, Timoleon of Corinth, who delivered his city and 
 all Sicily from the yoke of slavery ; than whom there 
 never lived, in any age, a more virtuous man, or a more 
 incorrupt statesman : Next Appius Claudius, whose dis- 
 creet counsels in the senate, though they could not re- 
 store sight to his own eyes, saved Italy from the for- 
 midable inroads of Pyrrhus : then Ceecilius Metellus 
 the high priest, who lost his sight, while he saved, not 
 only the city, but the palladium, the protection of the 
 city, and the most sacred relics, from the destruction of 
 the flames. On other occasions Providence has indeed 
 given conspicuous proofs of its regard for such singular 
 exertions of patriotism and virtue; w-hat, therefore, hap- 
 pened to so great and so good a man, I can hardly 
 place in the catalogue of misfortunes. Why should I 
 mention others of later times, as Dandolo of Venice, 
 the incomparable Doge ; or Boemar Zisca, the bravest 
 of generals, and the champion of the cross; or Jerome 
 Zanchius, and some other theologians of the highest 
 reputation ? For it is evident that the Patriarch Isaac, 
 than whom no man ever enjoyed more of the divine 
 regard, lived blind for many years; and perhaps also 
 his son Jacob, who was equally an object of the divine 
 benevolence. And in short, did not our Saviour him- 
 self clearly declare that that poor man whom he re- 
 stored to sight, had not been born blind, either on ac- 
 count of bis own sins or those of his progenitors ? And 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 927 
 
 with respect to myself, though I have accurately ex- 
 amined my conduct, and scrutinized my soul, I call 
 thee, O God, the searcher of hearts, to witness, that I 
 am not conscious, either in the more early or in the 
 later periods of my life, of having- committed any 
 enormity, which might deservedly have marked me out 
 as a fit object for such a calamitous visitation. But 
 since my enemies boast that this affliction is only a re- 
 tribution for the transgressions of my pen, I again in- 
 voke the Almighty to witness, that I never, at any time, 
 wrote any thing which I did not think agreeable to 
 truth, to justice, and to piety. This was my persua- 
 sion then, and I feel the same persuasion now. Nor 
 was I ever prompted to such exertions by the influence 
 of ambition, by the lust of lucre or of praise ; it was 
 only by the conviction of duty and the feeling of pa- 
 triotism, a disinterested passion for the extension of 
 civil and religious liberty. Thus, therefore, when I 
 was publickly solicited to write a reply to the defence 
 of the royal cause, when I had to contend with the 
 pressure of sickness, and with the apprehension of soon 
 losing the sight of my remaining eye, and when my 
 medical attendants clearly announced, that if I did en- 
 gage in the work, it would be irreparably lost, their 
 premonitions caused no hesitation and inspired no dis- 
 may. I would not have listened to the voice even of 
 Esculapius himself from the shrine of Epidauris, in pre- 
 ference to the suggestions of the heavenly monitor 
 within my breast ; my resolution w as unshaken, though 
 the alternative was either the loss of my sight, or the 
 desertion of my duty; and I called to mind those two 
 destinies, which the oracle of Delphi announced to the 
 son of Thetis. 
 
 Two fates may lead me to tlie realms of night ; 
 
 If staying here, around Troy's wall I fight. 
 
 To my dear home no more must I return ; 
 
 But lasting glory will adorn my urn. 
 
 But, if I withdraw from the martial strife. 
 
 Short is my fame, but long will be my Hfe. II. ix. 
 
 I considered that man )- had purchased a less good by a 
 greater evil, the meed of glory by the loss of life ; but 
 that I might procure great good by little suflTering; 
 that though I am blind, I might still discharge the 
 most honourable duties, the performance of which, as it 
 is something more durable than glory, ought to be an 
 object of superior admiration and esteem; I resolved, 
 therefore, to make the short interval of sight, which 
 was left me to enjoy, as beneficial as possible to the 
 public interest. Thus it is clear, by what motives I 
 was governed in the measures which I took, and the 
 losses which I sustained. Let then the calumniators 
 of the divine goodness cease to revile, or to make me 
 the objectof their superstitious imaginations. Letthem 
 consider, that my situation, such as it is, is neither an 
 object of my shame or my regret, that my resolutions 
 are too firm to be shaken, that I am not depressed by 
 any sense of the divine displeasure; that, on the other 
 band, in the most momentous periods, I have had full 
 experience of the divine favour and protection; and 
 that, in the solace and the strength which have been 
 
 infused into me from above, I have been enabled to do 
 the will of God ; that I may oftener think on what he 
 has bestowed, than on what he has withheld ; that, in 
 short, I am unwilling to exchange my consciousness of 
 rectitude with that of any other person ; and that I feel 
 the recollection a treasured store of tranquillity and de- 
 light. But, if the choice were necessary, I would. Sir, 
 prefer my blindness to yours; yours is a cloud spread 
 over the mind, which darkens both the light of reason 
 and of conscience ; mine keeps from my view only the 
 coloured surfacesof things, while it leaves me at liberty 
 to contemplate the beauty and stability of virtue and of 
 truth. How many things are there besides, which I 
 would not willingly see ; how many which 1 must see 
 against my will; and how few which I feel any 
 anxiety to see! There is, as the apostle has remarked, 
 away to strength through weakness. Let me then be 
 the most feeble creature alive, as long as that feeble- 
 ness serves to invigorate the energies of my rational 
 and immortal spirit; as long as in that obscurity, in 
 which I am enveloped, the light of the divine presence 
 more clearly shines ; then, in the proportion as I am 
 weak, I shall be invincibly strong; and in proportion 
 as I am blind, I shall more clearly see. O ! that I 
 may thus be perfected by feebleness, and irradiated by 
 obscurity ! And indeed, in my blindness, I enjoy in no 
 inconsiderable degree the favour of the Deity ; who 
 regards me with more tenderness and compassion in pro- 
 portion as I am able to behold nothing but himself Alas! 
 for him who insults me, who maligns and merits public 
 execration ! For the divine law not only shields me 
 from injury, but almost renders me too sacred to at- 
 tack ; not indeed so much from the privation of my 
 sight, as from the overshadowing of those heavenly 
 wings, which seem to have occasioned this obscurity ; 
 and which, when occasioned, he is wont to illuminate 
 with an interior light, more precious and more pure. 
 To this I ascribe the more tender assiduities of my 
 friends, their soothing attentions, their kind visits, 
 their reverential observances ; among whom there are 
 some with whom I may interchange the Pyladean and 
 Thesian dialogue of inseparable friends. 
 
 Orest. Proceed, and be rudder of my feet, by shewing me 
 the most endearing love. 
 
 Eurip. in Orest. 
 And in another place, 
 
 Lend your hand to your devoted friend. 
 Throw your arm round my neck, and I will conduct you 
 on the way. 
 
 This extraordinary kindness which I experience, can- 
 not be any fortuitous combination ; and friends, such 
 as mine, do not suppose that all the virtues of a man 
 are contained in his eyes. Nor do the persons of prin- 
 cipal distinction in the commonwealth suffer me to be 
 bereaved of comfort, when they see me bereaved of 
 sight, amid the exertions which I made, the zeal which 
 I shewed, and the dangers which I run for the liberty 
 which I love. But, soberly reflecting on the casualties 
 of human life, they shew me favour and indulgence as 
 to a soldier who has served his time ; and kindly con- 
 
988 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 cede to me an exemption from care and toil. Tliey do 
 not strip meof thebadg-es of honour which I have once 
 worn ; they do not deprive me of the places of public 
 trust to which I have been appointed ; they do not 
 abridge my salary or emoluments ; which, thoug^h I 
 may not do so much to deserve as I did formerly, they 
 are too considerate and too kind to take away; and in 
 short they honour me as much, as the Athenians did 
 those whom they determined to support at the public 
 expence in the Prytaneum. Thus, while both God 
 and man unite in solacing me under the weight of my 
 affliction, let no one lament my loss of sight in so 
 honourable a cause. And let me not indulge in un- 
 availing grief; or want the courage either to despise 
 the revilers of my blindness, or the forbearance easily 
 to pardon the offence, I return to you, Sir, whoever 
 you may be, who, with a remarkable inconsistency, 
 seem to consider me at one time as a giant, and at an- 
 other as a dwarf You end with expressing your wish, 
 that the United Provinces may with as much ease, 
 and as much success, put an end to this war, as Sal- 
 masius will put an end to Milton. To which wish, if 
 I were cheerfully to assent, I think that I should not 
 omen ill, nor ill implore for our success, or for the 
 English interest. 
 
 But lo ! again a dissonant and hissing cry ! It seems 
 as if a flock of geese were passing through the air. I 
 now perceive what it is ; the cry has no tragic tones ; 
 the chorus makes its appearance ; when lo ! two poe- 
 tasters, if two there be, as diverse in colour as in form. 
 Shall I call it a Sphinx, or that poetical monster of 
 Horace, with a woman's head and an ass's neck, co- 
 vered with motley plumes, and made up of limbs taken 
 from every species of animals ? Yes, that is the very 
 thing ! It is surely some rhapsodist or other, dressed 
 out in scraps of verses with poetic rags ; though it is 
 uncertain whether there be one or two ; for there is not 
 the mention of a name. True poets are the objects 
 of my reverence and my_love ; and the constant sources 
 of my delight. I know that the most of them, from 
 the earliest times to those of Buchanan, have been the 
 strenuous enemies of despotism ; but these pedlars and 
 milliners of verse, who can bear? They applaud and 
 they revile as it may happen, as gain, or passion, or 
 the bottle may incite, without choice, discrimination, 
 judgment, or moderation, princes and plebeians, the 
 literate and illiterate, honest men and knaves. They 
 heap together such a motley, indigested, and putrid 
 mass of adulation, that it would be better to be pro- 
 secuted with contempt, than loaded with such praise. 
 And he, whom they revile, should think it no small 
 honour, that he has incurred the displeasure of such 
 absurd and foolish miscreants. I doubt whether the 
 first, if there be two, be a poet or a mason ; for he so 
 bedaubs the face of Salmasius, that he hardly leaves 
 the space of a hair without a coating of plaster. He 
 represents the giant-warring hero, riding in his tri- 
 umphal car, brandishing the spear, the cestus, and all 
 the foppery of war, attended by all the learned who 
 walk ou foot, but at an awful distance behind his cha- 
 riot ; since he is feigned to " have been commissioned 
 
 by the Deity to heal the distractions of the world, and 
 with an impenetrable shield, to protect kings in tiie 
 possession of their rights, and in the splendour of their 
 sovereignty." Salmasius must surely have been doating 
 in a state of second infancy, when he could be so much 
 taken by this encomium, as to cause it immediately to 
 be published to the world. The poet must have been 
 a miserable drudge, and without any feeling of pro- 
 priety, to lavish such a prodigality of praise on a gram- 
 marian ; a race of men who have been always thought 
 to act as a sort of subordinate and menial part to the 
 bard. The other does not make verses, but is stark 
 mad; himself more raving than all the enthusiasts, who 
 are the objects of his furious invective. As if he 
 were the hangman in the employ of Salmasius, like the 
 son of Dama, he invokes the Horatii and Cadmus; 
 then, intoxicated with hellebore, he disgorges a whole 
 cistern of abuse, which an index to Plautus shows him 
 where to pilfer from the mouths of mountebanks and 
 slaves. You would suppose, that his language was 
 rather Oscan than Latin ; or that he was croaking like 
 the frog of a slimy pool. Then to shew you how much 
 he is a master of iambics, he makes two false quanti- 
 ties in a single word ; making one syllable long, where 
 it oiiuiit to be short, and another short, where it ought 
 to be long. 
 
 Hi tracidato rege per horrendum nefas. 
 
 Take away, O ass ! those panniers of airy nothingness ; 
 and speak, if you can, three words that have an affinity 
 to common sense ; if it be possible for the tumid pump- 
 kin of your skull to discover for a moment any thing 
 like the reality of intellect. In the mean time, I aban- 
 don the pedagogue to the rods of his scholars. Do you 
 go on to revile me as worse than Cromwell, since you; 
 cannot pay me a higher compliment. But shall I calL 
 you a friend, a fool, or an insidious foe .'' Friend you 
 cannot be, for your language is that of an enemy. How 
 then could you be such an egregious fool, as, in the! 
 orgasms of your virulence, to assign me the post of 
 pre-eminence above so great a personage ? For do you 
 not perceive, or do you think me too dull to discern, 
 that the violence of your hostility only serves to aug- 
 ment the splendor of my patriotism ; and that the to- 
 pics of my panegyric must be as numerous as your 
 subjects of reproach. If I am most the object of your 
 aversion, it is because you have most felt the force of 
 my blows; because I have been the greatest obstacle 
 in the way of your success. This proves that I have 
 deserved well of my country; for the testimony of an 
 enemy, however suspicious on other occasions, may be 
 safely trusted with respect to his own sensations of re- 
 sentment. Do you not remember that the poet, in the 
 context which ensued between Ajax and Ulysses, for 
 the arms of Achilles, leaves the matter according to 
 the opinion of Nestor, to the decision, not of their Gre- 
 cian friends, but of their Trojan foes. 
 
 To the cool Trojans let us leave the cause. 
 And a little after. 
 
 What sober justice dictates they'll decree. 
 
 From love and ev'ry partial bias free ; 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 929 
 
 For all the Greeks alike incur their hate. 
 Alike the authors of their ruin'd state. 
 
 Thus says Q. Calaber. You must therefore be insidi- 
 ously studious to oppress me with the public indigna- 
 tion ; and thus you corrupt and pervert the open and 
 manly vigour of an enemy, by the treacherous and in- 
 veterate indignity of your disposition ; and you shew 
 yourself, not only the worst of men, but the basest of 
 enemies. But, good Sir, I will by no means frustrate 
 your endeavours : for, though I may wish to rival 
 Ulysses in the merits of his patriotism, I am yet no 
 competitor for the arms of Achilles. I am not solicit- 
 ous for an Elysium painted on a shield, which others 
 may see me brandish in the contest ; but I desire to 
 bear upon my shoulders a real not a painted weight, of 
 which I may feel the pressure, but which may be im- 
 perceptible to others. For since I cherish no private 
 rancour, nor hostility against any man, nor any man 
 that I know of against me, I am well contented, for 
 the sake of the public interest, to be so much aspersed 
 and so much reviled. Nor, while I sustain the greatest 
 weight of the disgrace, do I complain because I have 
 the smallest share of the profit or the praise; for I am 
 content to do what is virtuous, for the sake of the ac- 
 tion itself, without any sinister expectations. Let Caiieis 
 look to that; but do you. Sir, know, that my hands 
 were never soiled with the guilt of peculation ; and 
 that I never was even a shilling the richer by those ex- 
 ertions, which you most vehemently traduce. Here 
 More again begins, and in his second epistle assigns 
 the reasons for his writing; to 'vhom ? Why, truly. 
 More, the perpetrator of adultery and rape, addresses 
 " the lover of Christianity." You promise, Sir, a most 
 pious epistle ; but now for the reasons why you wrote. 
 " That the anxious and attentive nations of Europe, 
 and particularly the members of the reformed religion 
 in France, might be made acquainted with the parri- 
 cide and the parricides," &c. The French, and even the 
 protestants themselves, were up in arms against the 
 established laws; what they would have done farther 
 if they had met with as much success as wc have, can- 
 not be known ; but certainly their kings, if we may 
 trust the accounts of those transactions, feared as much 
 from them as ours did from us ; nor could they help 
 doing it, when they considered the tone of their mani- 
 festos, and the violence of their threats. Let them not 
 therefore, whatever you may pretend, boast too much 
 for themselves, nor judge too illiberally of us. He pro- 
 ceeds, " Indeed I have been in such habits of intimacy 
 with persons of the first character in England." Those 
 who are the best in his eyes, will be found the worst 
 in those of other people. " That I do not hesitate to 
 assert, that I am intimately acquainted with the vices, 
 the principles, and the lives of those monsters in the 
 shape of men." I thought that you had had acquaint- 
 ance with none but bawds and whores ; but you also 
 thoroughly know what monsters are. " My English 
 friends readily prevailed upon me to suppress my name," 
 and this was discreetly done; for they thus hoped to 
 derive more advantage from the effrontery of your as- 
 sertions, and less harm from the profligacy of your 
 
 character. They knew you well, they remembered your 
 honest custody of the fruit in the garden ; and that, 
 even when become a shorn and polished priest, you 
 could not keep your hands off Pontia. And surely not 
 without reason ; for if the word carnifex be derived, a 
 conficiendacarne, why may not you, by doing for Pontia, 
 from a priest become a Pontifex. Though they could 
 not but know this, and you could not be ignorant of it, 
 yet with an impiety that merits execration, and an as- 
 surance that surpasses belief, you openly assert, that 
 you were studious only to vindicate the glory of God ; 
 and, at the same time, you inveigh against the hypo- 
 crisy of others, when there never was a more notorious 
 mercenary, or unprincipled hypocrite, than yourself. 
 In narrating the series of transactions, j'ou say that you 
 have derived great assistance from other writers, and 
 particularly from the exposure of the late disturbances 
 in England. Surely, Sir, you must be very deficient 
 in discretion and capacity; when after so much parade 
 and noise, you bring forward nothing of your own, but 
 can deduce against us only some writers among the 
 royalists, who may justly be suspected ; but without 
 an implicit reliance in whose veracity you cannot pro- 
 ceed a step. If there be occasion, we will refute those 
 writers, and set aside one confutation by another ; we 
 will not answer them by you, but you by them. What 
 you have produced of your own, you will find it diffi- 
 cult to defend ; which, while it indicates a mind utterly 
 void of all religious principles, every good man will 
 shudder while he reads. " The love of God, and a 
 lively sense of the insult that has been offered to his 
 holy name, compels me to lift up my suppliant hands 
 to heaven." Hide, O hide those hands, so foully stained 
 with lust and rapine; nor, with hands such as those, 
 attempt to touch the throne of God, with which you 
 have so often polluted the rites of his religion, and the 
 altars of his worship. The divine vengeance which 
 you so lavishly imprecate on others, you will find at 
 last that you have been invokiirofon yourself. Hither- 
 to we have had only the prelude to the cry, but (novr 
 it is going to occupy the principal and almost sole part 
 in the drama) it swells the cheek and strains the jaws 
 in the act of mounting to heaven ; whither, if it ascend, 
 it will resound most eflFectually against the brawling 
 More. " Since the majesty of kings has in all ages 
 been held sacred," ice. You attack me. Sir, with 
 much common-place abuse, and many malicious obser- 
 vations which are quite irrelevant to the purpose ; for 
 the murder of a king, and the punishment of a tyrant, 
 are not the same thing; but do differ, and will for 
 ever differ, as long as sense and reason, justice and 
 equity, the knowledge of right and wrong, shall pre- 
 vail among men. But enough, and more than enough, 
 has been said on this subject ; nor shall I suffer you, 
 who have in vain assaulted me with so many senseless 
 imprecations, at last to bring about my end with a 
 plethory of disgust ? You then say some fine things on 
 patience and on virtue. But, 
 
 You talk on virtue, while on vice you pore. 
 
 And predch most chaste discourses while you whore. 
 
990 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 You saj that " all the protestants, particularly those in 
 the Low Countries and France, are struck with horror 
 at tlje crime which we have committed;" and immedi- 
 ately after, that " good men would every where think 
 and speak differently on the subject." That you 
 should be at variance with yourself is a matter of little 
 moment ; but what follows is of a more shocking- and 
 atrocious cast. You say that " the wickedness of the 
 Jews, who crucified Christ, was nothing compared 
 with ours, whether you regard the intentions of tlie 
 parties, or the effects of the crime." Maniac ; do you, 
 a minister of Jesus, think so li|,'htly of his crucifixion, 
 as to have the audacity to assert, that the destruction 
 of any kinar, whatever might be the intentions, or the ef- 
 fect, is equally atrocious.-* The Jews had the clearest and 
 most convincing proofs that Jesus was the Son of God ; 
 but how could we possibly be led to believe, that 
 Charles was not a tyrant ? To diminish the enormity 
 of the guilt, you very absurdly make mention of the 
 effect; but I always observe, that the royalists, in pro- 
 portion to their bigotry, are ready to depreciate the 
 sufferings of Christ, in order to exalt those of their 
 king; yet as they assert, that we ought principally to 
 obey him for Christ's sake, they shew that they cherish 
 no sincere regard either for Christ or for the king; 
 and that they make their irrational and superstitious 
 devotion to kings, only a pretext to conceal their am- 
 bitious, their sinister and interested, views. " Salmasius, 
 therefore, that great sovereign of literature, advanced 
 to the combat!" Cease, Sir, I beseech you, to disgust 
 us with the application of such an epithet as "great" 
 to Salmasius ; which you may repeat a thousand times, 
 without ever persuading any one that Salmasius was 
 great; though you may, that More was little; a worth- 
 less scribbler, who, quite ignorant of propriety, lavished 
 the appellation of great without any fitness or discrimi- 
 nation. To grammarians and critics, who are princi- 
 pally occupied in editing the works of others, or in 
 correcting the errors of copyists, we willingly concede 
 the palm of industry and erudition ; but we never be- 
 stow on them the sirname of great. He alone is 
 worthy of the appellation, who either does great things, 
 or teaches how they may be done, or describes them 
 with a suitable majesty when they have been done ; but 
 those only are great things, which tend to render life 
 more happy, which increase the innocent enjoyments 
 and comforts of existence, or which pave the way to 
 a state of future bliss more permanent and more pure. 
 But has Salmasius done any thing like this.'' Nothing 
 at all ; what, that is great, has he ever either taught 
 or related .'' unless perhaps you except his writings 
 against the bishops, and the supremacy of the pope ; 
 the merit of which he entirely effaced by his subsequent 
 recantations; by the habits of his life, and his vindica- 
 tions of episcopacy. He, therefore, cannot fitly be 
 termed a great writer, who either never wrote any 
 thing great, or who basely recanted the best work that 
 he ever wrote. He is welcome for me, to be " the 
 sovereign of literature," and of the A, B, C ; but you 
 are not content with having him the " sovereign of 
 literature," but must exalt him to be " the patron of 
 
 kings;" and a patron well fitted to adorn such a station 
 of sublimity. Vou have certainly shewn yourself very 
 solicitous to promote the honour of kings, when in 
 addition to their other illustrious titles, you would sub- 
 join that of " the clients of Claud Salmasius." On this 
 condition, O sovereigns of the world, you may be re- 
 leased from every restraint upon your power ; if you 
 will but do homage to Salmasius the grammarian, and 
 make your sceptres bend beneath his rod. " To him 
 kings will be indebted, as long as the world lasts, for 
 the vindication of their honour, and the existence of 
 their power." Attend, ye sovereigns! be who composes 
 for you his beggarly defence, and who defends what 
 no one attacked, has the arrogance to impute to 
 himself the continuance of your dignity and your 
 power. Such has been the effect of provoking this 
 insolent grammarian from his cabinet of worms and 
 moths, to support the cause of kings. " To whom 
 the altar will be as much indebted as the throne ;" 
 not indeed for the protection, but for the scandalous 
 desertion of its interests. Now, you lavish your pane- 
 gyric in the defence of the royal cause; " you admire 
 the genius, the erudition, the boundless divei"sity of 
 matter, the intimate acquaintance with sacred and 
 profane usages and laws, the impetuous volubility of 
 diction, the limpid eloquence, which characterise that 
 golden work." Though I contend that the work is 
 deficient in all these qualities ; (for what has Salmasius 
 to do with eloquence ?) yet that it was a truly golden 
 composition, I am willing a hundred times to acknow- 
 ledge ; for it cost Charles as many guineas, without 
 mentioning the sums which the author received from 
 the Prince of Orange. " The great man never ap- 
 peared more mighty in his strength ; Salmasius was 
 never more himself." He was truly so great that he 
 burst ; for we have seen how great he was in his for- 
 mer work ; and shall perhaps see in what he may 
 have left behind him on the same subject. I do not 
 deny that Salmasius, on the first appearance of his 
 book, was the general topic of conversation, and that 
 he was in high favour with the royalists; that he was 
 invited by the most august queen of Sweden, and re- 
 ceived the most munificent presents; and, in short, 
 that in the whole dispute, every circumstance was 
 favourable to Salmasius and hostile to me. Men in 
 general entertained the highest opinion of his eru- 
 dition, the celebrity of which, he had been accumulat- 
 ing for many years, by many voluminous and massy 
 publications, not indeed of any practical utility, but 
 relating to the most abtruse discussions, and crammed 
 with quotations from the most illustrious authors. 
 Nothing is so apt as this to excite the astonishment of 
 the literary vulgar. Who I was, no one in that coun- 
 try had ever known ; his work had excited an impa- 
 tient curiosity, which was increased by the magnitude 
 of the subject. I had no means of exciting a similar 
 interest, or a like ardour of expectation. Many indeed 
 endeavoured to dissuade me from engaging wilii such 
 a veteran ; some from envy, lest I should, at any rate, 
 gather some glory from the conflict with so mighty an 
 adversary; others from fear, lest my defeat should 
 
 I 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 931 
 
 prove injurious to myself, and to the cause which T 
 had undertaken to defend. Salmasius was invig-orated 
 and cheered by the specious plausibility of his subject, 
 by the inveterate prejudices, or rather rooted super- 
 stitions, of the vulgar, in favour of kingly power. All 
 these were advei-se to my undertaking, and impedi- 
 ments to my success; and it is the less surprising', 
 that my answer, on its first appearance, should be less 
 eagerly read, except by those who were anxious to 
 learn, who had the inconsiderate audacity to enter the 
 lists with Salmasius. But the work soon excited ge- 
 neral approbation and delight ; the author was lost 
 sight of in the blazeof truth ; and Salmasius, who had 
 so lately been towering on the pinnacle of distinction, 
 stripped of the mask which he had worn, soon dwin- 
 dled into insignificance and contempt ; from which, as 
 long as he lived, he could never afterwards emerge, or 
 recover his former consequence. But your penetrating 
 mind, O ! Serene queen of Sweden, soon detected his 
 imposture ; and, with a magnanimity almost above 
 human, you taught sovereigns and the world to prefer 
 truth to the interested clamours of faction. For though 
 the splendor of his erudition, and the celebrity which 
 he had acquired i» the defence of the royal cause, had 
 induced you to honour him with many marks of dis- 
 tinction, yet, when my answer appeared, which you 
 perused with singular equanimity, you perceived that 
 he had been convicted of the most palpable effrontery 
 and misrepresentation ; that he had betrayed the ut- 
 most indiscretion and intemperance, that he had uttered 
 many falsehoods, many inconsistencies and contradic- 
 tions. On this account, as it is sai<l, you had him 
 called into your presence ; but when he was unable to 
 vindicate himself, you were so visibly offended, that 
 from that time, you neither shewed him the same at- 
 tentions, nor held his talents nor his learning in the 
 same esteem ; and, what was entirely unexpected, you 
 manifested a disposition to favour his adversar}'. You 
 denied that what I had written against tyrants, could 
 have any reference to you ; whence, in your own breast 
 you enjoyed the sweets, and among others the fame, of 
 a good conscience. For, since the whole tenor of your 
 conduct sufficiently proves, that you are no tyrant, this 
 unreserved expression of your sentiments makes it still 
 more clear, that you are not even conscious to your- 
 self of being one. How ha])py am I beyond my ut- 
 most expectations ! (for to the praise of eloquence, 
 except as far as eloquence consists in the force of truth, 
 I lay no claim,) that, when the critical exigences of my 
 country demanded that I should undertake the arduous 
 and invidious task of impugning the rights of kings, I 
 should meet with so illustrious, so truly a royal evi- 
 dence to my integrit3% and to this truth, that I had 
 not written a word against kings, but only against 
 tyrants, the spots and the pests of royalty! But you, 
 O Augusta, possessed not only so much magnanimity, 
 but were so irradiated by the glorious beams of wis- 
 dom anrl of virtue, that you not only read with pa- 
 tience, with incredible impartiality, with a serene 
 complacency of countenance, what might seem to be 
 levelled against your rights and dignity ; but ex- 
 3 o 
 
 pressed such an opinion of the defender of those rights, 
 as may well be considered an adjudication of the palm 
 of victory to his opponent. You, O queen ! will for 
 ever be the object of my homage, my veneration, and 
 my love; for it was your greatness of soul, so honour- 
 able to yourself and so auspicious to me, which served 
 to efface the unfavourable impression against nie at 
 other courts, and to rescue me from the evil surmises of 
 other sovereigns. What a high and favourable opinion 
 must foreigners conceive, and your own subjects for 
 ever entertain, of jour impartiality and justice, when, 
 in a matter which so nearly interested the fate of sove- 
 reigns and the rights of your crown, they saw you 
 sit down to the discussion, with as much equanimity 
 and composure, as you would to determine a dispute 
 between two private individuals. It was not in vain 
 that you made such large collections of books, and so 
 many monuments of learning ; not indeed, that thcv 
 could contribute much to your instruction, but because 
 they so well teach your subjects to appreciate the 
 merits of your reign, and the rare excellence of your 
 virtue and 3'our wisdom. For the Divinity himself 
 seems to have inspired you with a love of wisdom, and 
 a thirst for improvement, beyond what any books ever 
 could have produced. It excites our astonishment to 
 see a force of intellect so truly divine, a particle of 
 celestial flame so resplendently pure, in a region so re- 
 mote ; of which an atmosphere, so darkened with 
 clouds, and so chilled with frosts, could not extinguish 
 the liglit, nor repress the operations. The rocky and 
 barren soil, which is often as unfavourable to the 
 growth of genius as of plants, has not impeded the ma- 
 turation of your faculties; and that country, so rich 
 in metallic ore, which appears like a cruel step-mother 
 to others, seems to have been a fostering parent to you; 
 and after the most strenuous attempts to have at last 
 produced a progeny of pin-e gold. I would invoke 
 you, Christina! as the only child of the renowned and 
 victorious Adolphus, if your merit did not as much 
 eclipse his, as wisdom excels strength, and the arts of 
 peace the havoc of war. Henceforth, the queen of 
 the south will not be alone renowned in history ; for 
 there is a queen of the north, who would not only be 
 worthy to appear in the court of the wise king of the 
 Jews, or any king of equal wisdom ; but to whose 
 court others may from all parts repair, to behold so fair 
 a heroine, so bright a pattern of all the royal virtues ; 
 and to the crown of whose praise this may well be add- 
 ed, that neither in her conduct nor her appearance, is 
 there any of the forbidding reserve, or the ostentatious 
 parade, of royalty. She herself seems the least conscious 
 of her own attributes of sovereignty ; and her thoughts 
 are always fixed on something greater and more sub- 
 lime than the glitter of a crown. In this respect, her 
 example may well make innumerable kings hide their 
 diminished heads. She may, if such is the fatality of 
 the Swedish nation, abdicate the sovereignty, but she 
 can never lay aside the queen ; for her reign has proved, 
 that she is fit to govern, not only Sweden, but the world. 
 This tribute of praise, to so highly meritorious a 
 queen, there is, I trust, no one who will not applaud ; 
 
932 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 and wliich if others did not pay, I could not have with- 
 held, without the imputationof the most heinous ingra- 
 titude. For, whether it be owing to the benig-n aspects 
 of tlie planets, or to the secret sympathies and affini- 
 ties of thinjjs, I cannot too much extol my good for- 
 tune, in having found, in a region so remote, a patron 
 so impartial and so kind, whom of all I least expected, 
 but of all tlie most desired. But now we will return, 
 from this digression, to a quite different theme. You 
 say, that " we were thrown into the most furious com- 
 motion on hearing of the royal defence, and that we 
 looked around for some servile pedagogue, who might 
 employ his venal pen in the vindication of the parri- 
 cides." This is the mere effusion of your spite ; for you 
 must recollect, that, when the royalists were in search 
 of a hawker for their lies, and a retailer of their malice, 
 they applied to the grammarian Salmasius, who if he 
 were not a menial, could never resist a bribe ; who not 
 only readily sold them his present work, but his good 
 intentions for the future. And you must remember, 
 that when Salmasius was anxiously ruminating, how 
 he might re-establish his ruined character, and oblite- 
 rate his shame, he was, by a certain retributive fatality, 
 directed to you, who were then not officiating as a mi- 
 nister at Geneva, from which place you had been ex- 
 pelled, but as a worshipper of Priapus, of whose lasci- 
 vious rites you made his house the shrine. Hence, 
 nauseating those praises, which you had bestowed 
 with so much extravagance, and which he had pur- 
 chased with so much disgrace, his friendship was con- 
 verted into the most inveterate hostility, and he cursed 
 his panegyrist even in his dying hour. " They fixed 
 upon one John Milton, a great hero truly, to oppose 
 Salmasius." I did not know that I was a hero, though 
 you perchance may be the progeny of some frail heroine, 
 for you are nothing but a compound of iniquity. When 
 I consider the good of the commonwealth, I may in- 
 deed lament, that I alone was selected to defend the 
 people of England, though I could not readily have 
 endured an associate in the fame. You sa}', that it is 
 ^ matter of uncertainty who and whence I am. The 
 same uncertainty attached to Homer and Demosthenes. 
 Indeed, I bad been early taught to hold my tongue 
 and to say nothing ; which Salmasius never could ; 
 and I accordingly buried those things within my breast, 
 which if I had pleased to disclose, I could then have 
 obtained as much celebrity as I now possess. But I 
 was not eager to hasten the tardy steps of fame ; nor 
 willing to appear in public till a proper opportunity 
 offered. For I did not regard the fame of any thing 
 80 much, as the proper time for the execution. Hence 
 it happened, that I had not long been known to many, 
 before Salmasius begun to know himself "Whether 
 he be a man or a worm !" Truly, I would rather be a 
 worm in the way that David expresses it, (" I am a 
 worm and no man,") than that my bosom, like yours, 
 should be the seat of a never-dying worm. You say, 
 that " the fellow, having been expelled from the uni- 
 versity of Cambridge, on account of his atrocities, had 
 fled his country in disgrace and travelled into Italy." 
 Hence we may discern what little reliance can be 
 
 placed on the veracity of those, from whom you derived 
 your information ; for all, who know me, know, that 
 in this place, both you and they have uttered the most 
 abominable falsehoods; as I shall soon make more 
 fully appear. But, when I was expelled from Cam- 
 bridge, why should I rather travel into Italy, than into 
 France or Holland ? where you, though a minister of 
 the Gospel, and yet so vile a miscreant, not only enjoy 
 impunity, but, to the great scandal of the church, 
 pollute the pulpit and the altar by your presence. But 
 why. Sir, into Italy.'' Was it that, like another Saturn, 
 I might find a hiding-place in Latium .'' No, it was be- 
 cause I well knew, and have since experienced, that 
 Italy, instead of being, as you sup])Ose, the general re- 
 ceptacle of vice, was the seat of civilization and the 
 hospitable domicile of every species of erudition. 
 " When he returned, he wrote his book on divorce." I 
 wrote nothing more than what Bucer on the Kingdom 
 of Christ, Fagius on Deuteronomy, and Erasmus on 
 the First Epistle to the Corinthians, which was more 
 particularly designed for the instruction of the Eng- 
 lish, had written before me, for the most useful pur- 
 poses and with the most disinterested views. Why 
 what was not reprehensible in them, should constitute 
 a charge of criminality against me, I cannot under- 
 stand ; though I regret that I published this work in 
 English ; for then it would not have been exposed to 
 the view of those common readers, who are wont to be 
 as ignorant of their own blessings, as they are insensi- 
 ble to others' sufferings. But shall you, base miscreant, 
 set up a cry about divorce, who, having debauched 
 Pontia, under the most solemn assurances of marriage, 
 afterwards divorced her in a manner the most unprin- 
 cipled and inhuman.'* And yet this servant of Salma- 
 sius is said to have been an Englishwoman, and a 
 staunch royalist ; so that you seem to have wooed her 
 as a piece of royalty, and to have deserted her as the 
 image of a republic (res publica), though you were the 
 author of her degradation to that state of publicity, 
 and, after having allured her from the service of Sal- 
 masius, reduced her to the condition of a public prosti- 
 tute. In this manner, devotedly attached as j'ou are 
 to royalty, 3'ou are said to have founded many repub< 
 lies (res publicas) in one city, or to have undertakei 
 the management of their concerns, after they have beei 
 founded by others. Such have been your divorces, oi 
 rather diversions, after which you proceed, as a ruffian, 
 to attack my character. You now return to the inventioi 
 of fresh lies. "When the conspirators were debating ol 
 the capital punishment of the king, he wrote to them, 
 and, while they were wavering and irresolute, broughl 
 them over to determine on his death." But I neithei 
 wrote to them, nor could I have influenced the execu- 
 tion ; for they had previously determined on the mea< 
 sure, without consulting me. But I will say more o< 
 this subject hereafter, as also on the publication of thi 
 Iconoclast. The fellow, (shall I call him a man, 01 
 only the excrement of a man,) next proceeding froU 
 his adulteries with servant maids and scullions 
 to the adulteration of the truth, endeavoured, bj 
 artfully fabricating a scries of lies, to render me infii 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 933 
 
 mous abroad. I must therefore crave the indulg^ence 
 of the reader, if I have said already, or shall say here- 
 after, more of myself than I wish to say ; that, if I can- 
 not prevent the blindness of my eyes, the oblivion or 
 the defamation of my name, I may at least rescue my 
 life from that species of obscurity, which is the asso- 
 ciate of unprincipled depravity. This it will be neces- 
 sary for me to do on more accounts than one; first, that 
 so many good and learned men among the neiii^hbour- 
 ing nations, who read my works, may not be induced 
 by this fellow's calumnies, to alter the favourable 
 opinion which they have formed of me; but may be 
 persuaded that I am not one who ever disgraced beauty 
 of sentiment by defomiity of conduct, or the maxims 
 of a free-man by the actions of a slave ; and that the 
 whole tenour of my life has, by the grace of God, hi- 
 therto been unsullied by enormity or crime. Next that 
 those illustrious worthies, who are the objects of my 
 praise, may know that nothing could afflict me with 
 more shame than to have any vices of mine diminish 
 the force or lessen the value of my panegyric upon 
 them ; and lastly, that the people of England, whom 
 fate, or duty, or their own virtues, have incited me to 
 defend, may be convinced from the purity and integrity 
 of my life, that my defence, if it do not redound to 
 their honour, can never be considered as their disgrace. 
 I will now mention who and whence I am. I was 
 born at London, of an honest family; my father was 
 distinguished by the undeviating integrity of his life ; 
 my mother by the esteem in which she was held, and 
 the alms which she bestowed. My father destined me 
 from a child to the pursuits of literature ; and my ap- 
 petite for knowledge was so voracious, that, from twelve 
 j-ejirs of age, I hardly ever left my studies, or went to 
 bed before midnight. This primarily led to my loss of 
 sight. My eyes were naturally weak, and I was sub- 
 ject to frequent head-achs; which, however, could not 
 chill the ardour of my curiosity, or retard the progress 
 of my improvement. My father had rae daily instruct- 
 ed in the grammar school, and by other masters at 
 home. He then, after I had acquired a proficiency in 
 various languages, and had made a considerable pro- 
 gress in philosophy, sent me to the University of Cam- 
 bridge. Here I passed seven years in the usual course 
 of instruction and study, with the approbation of the 
 good, and %vithout any stain upon my character, till I 
 took the degree of Master of Arts. After this I did not, 
 as this miscreant feigns, run away into Italy, but of 
 my own accord retired to my father's house, whither I 
 was accompanied by the regrets of most of the fellows 
 of the college, who shewed me no common marks of 
 friendship and esteem. On my father's estate, where 
 he had determined to pass the remainder of his days, I 
 enjoyed an interval of uninterrupted leisure, which I 
 entirely devoted to the perusal of the Greek and Latin 
 classics ; though I occasionally visited the metropolis, 
 either for the sake of purchasing books, or of learning 
 something new in mathematics or in music, in which 
 I, at that time, found a source of pleasure and amuse- 
 ment. In this manner I spent five years till my mo- 
 ther's death, I then became anxious to visit foreign 
 
 parts, and particularly Italy. My father gave me his 
 permission, and I left home with one servant. On my 
 departure the celebrated Henry Wootton, who had 
 been King James's ambassador at Venice, gave me a 
 signal proof of his regard, in an elegant letter which 
 he wrote, breathing not only the warmest friendship, 
 but containing some maxims of conduct which I found 
 very useful in my travels. The noble Thomas Scuda- 
 more. King Charles's ambassador, to whom I carried 
 letters of recommendation, received me most courte- 
 ously at Paris. His lordship gave me a card of intro- 
 duction to the learned Hugo Grotius, at that time am- 
 bassador from the queen of Sweden to the French 
 court; whose acquaintance I anxiously desired, and to 
 whose house I was accompanied by some of his lord- 
 ship's friends. A few days after, when I set out for 
 Italy, he gave me letters to the English merchants on 
 my route, that they might shew me any civilities in 
 their power. Taking ship at Nice, I arrived at Genoa, 
 and afterwards visited leghorn, Pisa, and Florence. 
 In the latter city, which I have always more particu- 
 larly esteemed for the elegance of its dialect, its geni- 
 us, and its taste, I stopped about two months; when I 
 contracted an intimacy with many persons of rank and 
 learning; and was a constant attendant at their lite- 
 rary parties ; a practice which prevails there, and tends 
 so much to the diflTusion of knowledge and the preser- 
 vation of friendship. No time will ever abolish the 
 agreeable recollections which I cherish of Jacob Gad- 
 di, Carolo Dati, Frescobaldo, Cultellero, Bonomatthai, 
 Clementillo, Francisco, and many others. From Flo- 
 rence I went to Siena, thence to Rome, where, after I 
 had spent about two months in viewing the antiquities 
 of that renowned city, where I experienced the most 
 friendly attentions from Lucas Holstein, and other 
 learned and ingenious men, I continued my route to Na- 
 ples. There I was introduced by a certain recluse, with 
 whom I had travelled from Rome, to John Baptista 
 Manso, Marquis of Villa, a nobleman of distinguished 
 rank and authority, to whom Torquato Tasso, the illus- 
 trious poet, inscribed his book on friendship. During 
 my stay, he gave me singular proofs of his regard ; he 
 himself conducted me round the city and to the palace 
 of the viceroy; and more than once paid me a visit at 
 my lodgings. On my departure he gravely apologized 
 for not having shewn me more civility, which he said 
 he had been restrained from doing, because I had 
 spoken with so little reserve on matters of religion. 
 When I was preparing to pass over into Sicily and 
 Greece, the melancholy intelligence which I received, 
 of the civil commotions in England, made me alter my 
 purpose ; for I thought it base to be travelling for 
 amusement abroad, while my fellow citizens were 
 fighting for liberty at home. While I was on my way 
 back to Rome, some merchants informed me that the 
 English Jesuits had formed a plot against me if I re- 
 turned to Rome, because I had spoken too freely on 
 religion ; for it was a rule which I laid down to my- 
 self in those places, never to be the first to begin any 
 conversation on religion ; but if any questions were 
 put to me concerning my faith, to declare it without 
 
934 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 any reserve or fear. I nevertheless returned to Rome. 
 I took no steps to conceal either my person or my cha- 
 racter ; and for about the space of two months, I again 
 openly defended, as f had done before, the reformed 
 religion in the very metropolis of popery. By the fa- 
 Tour of God, I pot safe back to Florence, where I was 
 received with as much affection as if I had returned to 
 my native country. There I stopped as many months 
 as I had done before, e.vcept that I made an excursion 
 for a few days to Lucca ; and crossing the Apennines, 
 passed through Bologna and Ferrara to Venice. After 
 I had spent a month in surveying the curiosities of this 
 city, and had put on board a ship the books which I 
 had collected in Italy, I proceeded through Verona and 
 Milan, and along the I^man lake to Geneva. The 
 mention of this city brings to my recollection the 
 slandering More, and makes me again call the Deity 
 to witness, that in all those places, in which vice meets 
 with so little discouragement, and is practised with so 
 little shame, I never once deviated from the paths of 
 integrity and virtue, and perpetually reflected that, 
 though my conduct might escape the notice of men, it 
 could not elude the inspection of God. At Geneva I 
 held daily conferences with John Deodati, the learned 
 Professor of Theology. Then pursuing my former route 
 through France, I returned to my native country, after 
 an absence of one year and about three months ; at the 
 time when Charles, having broken the peace, was re- 
 Qcwing what is called the episcopal war with the Scots; 
 in which the royalists being routed in the first encoun- 
 ter, and the English being universally and justly dis- 
 affected, the necessity of his affairs at last obliged him 
 to convene a parliament. As soon as I was able, I 
 hired a spacious bouse in the city for myself and my 
 books; where I again with rapture renewed my literary 
 pursuits, and where I calmly awaited the issue of the 
 contest, which I trusted to the wise conduct of Provi- 
 dence, and to the courage of the people. The vigour 
 of the parliament had begun to humble the pride of the 
 bishops. As loug as the liberty of speech was no 
 longer subject to controul, all mouths began to be 
 opened against the bishops; some complained of the 
 vices of the individuals, others of those of the order. 
 They said that it was unjust that they alone should 
 differ from the model of other reformed churches; that 
 the government of the church should be according to 
 the pattern of other churches, and particularly the word 
 of God. This awakened all my attention and my zeal 
 — I saw that a way was opening for the establishment 
 of real liberty ; that the foundation was laying for the 
 deliverance of man from the yoke of slavery and super- 
 stition ; that the principles of religion, which were the 
 first objects of our care, would exert a salutary influence 
 on the manners and constitution of the republic ; and as 
 I had from my youth studied the distinctions between 
 religious and civil rights, I perceived that if I ever 
 w ished Ut be of use, I ought at least not to be wanting 
 to my country, to the church, and to so many of my 
 fellow Christians, in a crisis of so much danger; I there- 
 fore determined to relinquish the other pursuits in which 
 I was engaged, and to transfer the whole force of my 
 
 talents and my industry to this one important object. 
 I accordingly wrote two books to a friend concerning 
 the reformation of the church of England. Afterwards, 
 when two bishops of superior distinction vindicated 
 their privileges against some principal ministers, I 
 thought tijat on those topics, to the consideration of 
 which I was led solely by my love of truth, and my 
 reverence for Christianity, I should not probably write 
 worse than those, who were contending only for their 
 own emoluments and usurpations. I therefore answer- 
 ed the one in two hooks, of which the first is inscribed, 
 Concerning Prelatical Episcopacy, and the other Con- 
 cerning the Mode of Ecclesiastical Government; and 
 I replied to the other in some Animadversions, and soon 
 after in an Apology. On this occasion it was supposed 
 that I brought a timely succour to the ministers, who 
 were hardly a match for the eloquence of their oppo- 
 nents ; and from that time I was actively employed in 
 refuting any answers that appeared. When the bishops 
 could no longer resist the multitude of their assailants, 
 I had leisure to turn my thoughts to other subjects ; to 
 the promotion of real and substantial liberty ; which is 
 rather to be sought from within than from without; and 
 whose existence depends, not so much on the terror of 
 tlic sword, as on sobriety of conduct and integrity of 
 life. When, therefore, I perceived that there were 
 three species of liberty which are essential to the hap- 
 piness of social life; religious, domestic, and civil; 
 and as I had already written conceniing the first, and 
 the magistrates were strenuously active in obtaining J 
 the third, I determined to turn my attention to the se^ j 
 cond, or the domestic species. As this seemed to in- 
 volve three material questions, the conditions of the 
 conjugal tie, the education of the children, and the free 
 publication of the thoughts, I made them objects of dis- 
 tinct consideration. I explained my sentiments, not 
 only concerning the solemnization of the marriage, but 
 the dissolution, if circumstances rendered it necessary; 
 and I drew my arguments from the divine law, which 
 Christ did not abolish, or publish another more grievous 
 than that of Moses. I stated my own opinions, and 
 those of others, concerning the exclusive exception of 
 fornication, which our illustrious Selden has since, in 
 his Hebrew Wife, more copiously discussed : for he in 
 vain makes a vaunt of liberty in the senate or in the 
 forum, who languishes under the vilest servitude, to an 
 inferior at home. On this subject, therefore, I publish- 
 CQ some books which were more particularly necessary 
 at that time, when man and wife were often the most 
 inveterate foes, when the man often staid to take care 
 of his children at home, while the mother of the fa- 
 mily was seen in the camp of the enemy, threaten- 
 ing death and destruction to her husband. I then 
 discussed the principles of education in a sum- 
 mary manner, but sufficiently copious for those 
 who attend seriously to the subject; than which no- 
 tliing can be more necessary to principle the minds of 
 men in virtue, the only genuine source of political and 
 individual liberty, the only true safeguard of states, 
 the bulwark of their prosperity and renown. Lastly, 
 I wrote my Areopagitica, in order to deliver the press 
 
 I 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 935- 
 
 from the restraints with which it was encumbered ; 
 that the power of determininff what was true and wliat 
 "was false, what ought to be published and what to be 
 suppressed, might no longer be entrusted to a few 
 illiterate and illiberal individuals, who refused their 
 sanction to any work, which contained views or sen- 
 timents at all above the level of the vulgar superstition. 
 On the last species of civil liberty, I said nothing; 
 because I saw that sufficient attention was paid to it 
 by the magistrates ; nor did I write any thing on the 
 prerogative of the crown, till the king, voted an enemy 
 by the parliament, and vanquished in the field, was 
 summoned before the tribunal which condemned him 
 to lose his head. But when, at length, some prcsby- 
 terian ministers, who had formerly been the most bitter 
 enemies to Charles, became jealous of the growth of 
 the Independents, and of their ascendancy in the par- 
 liament, most tumultuously clamoured against the sen- 
 tence, and did all in their power to prevent the execu- 
 tion, though they were not angry, so much on account 
 of the act itself, as because it was not the act of their 
 party; and when they dared to affirm, that the doc- 
 trine of the protestants, and of all the reformed 
 churches, was abhorrent to such an atrocious proceed- 
 ing against kings; I thought, that it became me to 
 oppose such a glaring falsehood ; and accordingly, 
 without any immediate or personal application to 
 Charles, I shewed, in an abstract consideration of the 
 question, what might lawfully be done against tyrants; 
 and in support of what I advanced, produced the 
 opinions of the most celebrated divines ; while I vehe- 
 mently inveighed against the egregious ignorance or 
 effrontery of men, who professed better things, and 
 from whom better things might have been expected. 
 That book did not make its appearance till after the 
 death of Charles ; and was written rather to reconcile 
 the minds of the people to the event, than to discuss 
 the legitimacy of that particular sentence which con- 
 cerned the magistrates, and which was already exe- 
 cuted. Such were the fruits of my private studies, 
 which I gratuitously presented to the church and to 
 the state ; and for which I was recompensed by no- 
 thing but impunity; though the actions themselves 
 procured me peace of conscience, and the approbation 
 of the good ; while I exercised that freedom of discus- 
 sion which I loved. Others, without labour or desert, 
 got possession of honours and emoluments; but no 
 one ever knew me, either soliciting any thing myself, 
 or through the medium of my friends; ever beheld me 
 in a supplicating posture at the doors of the senate, or 
 the levees of the great. I usually kept myself secluded 
 at home, where my own property, part of which had 
 been withheld during the civil commotions, and part 
 of which had been absorbed in the oppressive contri- 
 butions which I had to sustain, afforded me a scanty 
 subsistence. When I was released from these engage- 
 ments, and thought that I was about to enjoy an interval 
 of uninterrupted ease, I turned my thoughts to a con- 
 tinued history of my country, from the earliest times 
 to the present period. I had already finished four 
 books, when after the subversion of the monarchy, and 
 
 the establishment of a republic, T was surprised by au 
 invitation from the council of state, who desired my 
 services in the office for foreign affairs. A book ap- 
 peared soon after, which was ascribed to the king, and 
 contained the most invidious charges against the par- 
 liament. I was ordered to answer it; and opposed the 
 Iconoclast to his Icon. I did not insult over fallen 
 majesty as is pretended ; I only preferred Queen 
 Truth to King Charles. The charge of insult, which 
 I saw that the malevolent would urge, I was at some 
 pains to remove in the beginning of the work ; and 
 as often as possible in other places. Salmasius the» 
 appeared, to whom they were not, as More says, long 
 in looking about for an opponent, but immediately 
 appointed me, who happened at the time to be present 
 in the council. I have thus. Sir, given some account 
 of myself, in order to stop 3'our mouth, and to remove 
 any prejudices which your falsehoods and misrepre- 
 sentations might cause even good men to entertain 
 against me. I tell thee then, thou mass of corruption, 
 to hold thy peace; for the more you malign, the more 
 you will compel me to confute; which will only serve 
 to render your iniquity more glaring, and my inte- 
 grity more manifest. I had reproved Salmasius, be- 
 cause he was a foreigner, for meddling with our affairs; 
 but you e.xclaim " that the defence intimately concerns 
 those who are not English." Why ? you say, that 
 " the English may be supposed to be governed more 
 by the spirit of party ; but that the French will natu- 
 rally pay more attention to the measures tlian the men." 
 To which I retort, as before, that no remote foreigner, 
 as you are, would have interfered in the distractions of 
 our country, if he were not influenced by the most 
 sinister considerations. I have already proved, that 
 Salmasius was bribed ; it is evident, that you obtained 
 the professional chair through the interest of Salmasius, 
 and the Orange faction ; and what is worse, you were 
 debauching Pontia, at the same moment that you were 
 defaming the parliament. But the reason which you 
 assign, why foreigners are the best judges in this 
 business, is quite ridiculous ; for if the English are 
 carried away by party zeal, you, who make them 
 j-our only guides, must certainly be infected b}' their 
 antipathies. And if the English deserve no credit 
 in their own cause, you must deserve much less, 
 who have no knowledge whatever of our affairs, ex- 
 cept what you derive from them, who, according to 
 your own confession, ought not to be believed. Here 
 again j'ou launch out into the praises of the great 
 Salmasius ; great he certainly was, whom you em- 
 ployed as a sort of pimp, to procure his servant girl. 
 You praise him nevertheless; but he saw reason to 
 curse you before his death ; and a thousand times 
 blamed himself for not giving more credit to the ac- 
 count of your atrocities, which he had received from 
 Spanheini, a venerable divine. You are now worked 
 into a fury, and assert, that Salmasius had long lost 
 the use of his reason. You demand the first post in 
 clamour and in rage, and yet assign the precedence in 
 obloquy and abuse to Salmasius; "not because he is 
 violent in his language, but because he is Salmasius." 
 
998 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 trifler! you, I suppose, learued this casuistry when 
 you courted Poiitia. Hence your clamour is taught to 
 quibble and to whine ; hence, foaming with menace, 
 "you shall experience at last," you say, " O base brutes, 
 %vhat my pen can do." Shall we dread you, O libidi- 
 nous adulterer, or your pen, which is an object of dread 
 only to cooks and chambermaids ? For if any one 
 should hold up only his finger when he detects you in 
 your criminal amours, you would think it well if 3'ou 
 escaped without your back being broken, or your body 
 dismembered. " I am not so foolish," you say, " as to 
 attempt the execution of a work, that was begun by 
 Salmasius," but such a work, if he had not been void 
 of understanding, he would never have attempted ; you 
 therefore seem jocosely to g^ve the preference to Sal- 
 masius over yourself in want of brains. But you say, 
 that " it is your province to invoke the vengeance of 
 heaven on the murderers of the king;" which may be 
 done by persons without any great share of erudition. 
 Cry, shout, and brawl ; continue to act the hypocrite, 
 mouth religion, and practise lust. This God of ven- 
 geance whom you implore, will, helieve me, one day 
 arise in wrath, when he will begin with exterminating 
 you, who are the servant of the devil, and the disgrace 
 and pest of the reformed religion. To many, who 
 blame the bitter invectives of Salmasius, you reply, 
 that " this was the right way to deal with parricides, 
 and such monsters of deformity." I am obliged to you 
 for thus teaching me in what manner yourself and your 
 associate friends ought to be treated ; and for furnishing 
 me with so fair a pretext for severity. Now since you 
 have no argument to produce, and the rights of kings, 
 with whatever shew of argument, had been already 
 defended by Salmasius, your contumely and your rage 
 evaporate in some miserable tales, some of which you 
 have new-modelled from Salmasius, and interpolated 
 others from that most confutable " confutation" of 
 some anonymous scribbler who deserted not only his 
 country but his name ; and to the principal points of 
 which, as I have already replied in my Iconoclast and 
 my answers to Salmasius, no further reply can be ne- 
 cessar}'. Shall I always be compelled to go the same 
 round, and answer every tautology of slanderous abuse.'* 
 
 1 will not do it; nor will I so misemploy my labour or 
 my time. If any one think that his prostituted cries, 
 his venal lamentations and frivolous declamation, de- 
 serve any credit, he is welcome for me to think so ; for 
 I have nothing to fear from such precipitate credulity. 
 But I will just touch on a few of his points of attack, 
 which may serve as a specimen of the rest, and give 
 some insight into the character of the man and of the 
 work. After having babbled a good deal of his exotic 
 ignorance about the incorporation of the House of 
 Commons and the House of Peers in one assembly, (a 
 measure which no one in his senses would disapprove,) 
 he says, that " this equality, introduced into the state, 
 would naturally lead to the introduction of the same 
 into the church ; for episcopacy still remained, and if 
 this be not downright anabaptism, I don't know what 
 i»." Who would have expected this from a Gallic 
 minister and divine ? I should hardly think that he 
 
 knew what baptism is, who did not know what ana- 
 baptism is, if this were not. But if we will call things 
 by their proper names, equality in the state is not ana- 
 baptism, but democracy, a far more ancient thiug ; and 
 equality in the church is the practice of the apostles. 
 But " episcopacy still remained." We confess that it 
 did ; and Geneva still remained, though that city had 
 consulted the interests of religion, in expelling both 
 her bishop and her lawful chief; and why should we 
 be condemned for what they are approved.'' But you 
 wish. Sir, to take vengeance upon the Genevese, by 
 whom it is uncertain whether you were dismissed with 
 ignominy, or openly excommunicated on account of 
 your impieties. It is clear that you, with your friend 
 Salmasius, apostatised from this evangelical form of 
 church-government, and took refuge among the epis- 
 copalians. " Then," you say, " the republic passed into 
 the hands of our levelling crew, so that it is evident that 
 the same spirit prevailed at that time, which in the 
 eighth year had perpetrated the impious murder of the 
 king. Therefore the same spirit, as it seems, constituted . 
 your ministers, and perpetrated the parricide." Go on, as | 
 you have begun, to eructate the rage of 3'our apostacy. 
 You say that " there were not more than three petitions 
 which demanded the punishment of the king." This is 
 notoriously false. Those who have written an account 
 of these transactions, mention not only three petitions 
 of the kind, but many from different counties and from 
 the armies in the course of one month ; and three were 
 presented in one day. You know how deliberately the 
 matter was discussed in the senate, and that the people, 
 suspecting them of too much lenity, resorted to petition- 
 ing, in order to put an end to their delaj's. How many 
 thousands were there of the same opinion, who consi- 
 dered it to be either officious or superfluous to instigate 
 the determination of the senate ? I was one of these, 
 though I made no secret of my sentiments. But sup- 
 pose that the high rank of tlie accused had awed every 
 tongue into silence, ought the parliament to have ab- 
 stained from a decision, or have awaited the assent of 
 the people, on which depended the issue of such mo- 
 mentous deliberations .'' For the supreme council of 
 the nation was appointed by the people to curb the 
 despotism of the king: and if on his capture, after the 
 savage war which he had made, tiiey had referred the 
 question of his punishment to the decision of the 
 people, and if they had acquitted him, what would 
 those, who had so courageously restored our liberties, 
 seem to have done, but to have furnished the king 
 with the means of effecting their own destruction ? 
 Or if, after having been invested with full power to act 
 as they thought best on the most momentous points, 
 they should be compelled to refer to the multitude a 
 question which far exceeded their capacity, and which J 
 they, conscious of their ignorance, had previously re- \ 
 ferred to the determination of the senate, where could 
 this alternation of references and appeals have stopped .'* 
 Where could we have found a place of rest in this tur- 
 bulent eddy ? How could we have procured any sta- 
 bility amid so much inconstancy, any security amid so 
 much distraction ? What if they bad demanded the res- 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 937 
 
 toratiou of Charles to the crown ? And such was the 
 drift of some menaces, rather than petitions, which 
 were presented by a few seditious persons, whose hatred 
 one while, and whose compassion another, was wont 
 to be equally senseless and malicious. Were we to 
 make any account of these ? " Who," as you say, " in 
 order to set on foot a conference with the king, flocked 
 from all parts of the country to the doors of the parlia- 
 ment-house, where many of them were put to death by 
 the soldiery, according' to the order of the senators. 
 Some inhabitantsof Surry, either incited by the malici- 
 ous sug'g'cstions of others, or by their own disorderly 
 inclinations, paraded the city with a petition, in a state 
 of tumult and intoxication. They proceeded in a body 
 to assail the doors of the house ; they beat off the guard, 
 and, without the smallest provocation, killed one man 
 who was stationed at the door. Hence they were de- 
 servedly driven by violence ; and two or three of their 
 number were slain, breathing the fumes of intempe- 
 rance more than the love of liberty." You every where 
 concede, that "the Independents were superior, not in 
 numbers, but in discipline and in courage." Hence I 
 contend that they well deserved the superiority which 
 they acquired ; for nothing is more agreeable to the 
 order of nature, or more for the interest of mankind, 
 than that the less should yield to the greater, not in 
 numbers, but in wisdom and in virtue. Those who 
 excel in prudence, in experience, in industry and cou- 
 rage, however few they may be, will in my opinion 
 finally constitute the majority, and every where have 
 the ascendant. You intersperse many remarks on 
 Cromwell, which I shall examine below ; the rest I 
 have replied to in my answer to Salmasius. Nor do 
 you omit to mention the trial of the king, though your 
 great rhetorician had made that the theme of his mise- 
 rable declamation. You say that the peers, that is, in 
 a great measure the pageants and courtiers of the king, 
 were averse to the trial. I have shewn in the other 
 work the futility of this remark. " Then that the 
 judges were erased, because they had given it as 
 their opinion, that a king of England could not, 
 by the law of England, be put upon his trial." I 
 know not what they then answered ; I only know 
 what they approve and vindicate. It is no uncom- 
 mon, though a disreputable thing, for judges to be 
 swayed by fear. " An obscure and insolent scoun- 
 drel was accordingly placed at the head of the base 
 and iniquitous commission." It is not surprising that 
 you, who are contaminated by so many vices and 
 crimes, who are a compound of whatever is most 
 impure and vile, whose conscience has become a sort 
 of fungus utterly devoid of sensibility, who are so noto- 
 rious for atheism, for sacrilege and cruelty, should dare 
 to vent your calumnies on the most worthy and illus- 
 trious names. But, though your abuse is the highest 
 praise, yet I will never seem to abandon the excellent 
 personage, the friend whom I most revere, to the torrent 
 of your defamation. I M'ill vindicate him from the 
 unprincipled and intemperate obloquy of the fugitives 
 and the Mores, which he would never have incurred, if 
 he had not shewn so much zeal for the good of the 
 
 commonwealth. John Bradshaw (a name, which will 
 be repeated with applause wherever liberty is cherished 
 or is known) was sprung from a noble family. All 
 his early life he sedulously employed in making himself 
 acquainted with tiie laws of his country ; he then 
 practised with singular success and reputation at the 
 bar ; he shewed himself an intrepid and unwearied ad- 
 vocate for the liberties of the people : he took an active 
 part in the most momentous affairs of the state, and 
 occasionally discharged the functions of a jud-^e with 
 the most inviolable integrity. At last when he was 
 intreated by the parliament to preside in the trial of the 
 king, he did not refuse the dangerous office. To a 
 profound knowledge of the law, he added the most 
 comprehensive views, the most generous sentiments, 
 manners the most obliging and the most pure. Hence 
 he discharged that office with a propriety almost with- 
 out a parallel; he inspired both respect and awe; and, 
 though menaced by the daggers of so many assassins, 
 he conducted himself with so much consistency and 
 gravity, with so much presence of mind and so much 
 dignity of demeanour, that he seems to have been pur- 
 posely destined by Providence for that part which he 
 so nobly acted on the theatre of the world. And his 
 glory is as much exalted above that of all other tyran- 
 nicides, as it is both more humane, more just, and more 
 strikingly grand, judicially to condemn a tyrant, than 
 to put him to death without a trial. In other respects, 
 there was no forbidding austerity, no moroseness in 
 his manner ; he was courteous and benign ; but the 
 great character, which he then sustained, he with per- 
 fect consistency still sustains, so that you would suppose 
 that, not only then, but in every future period of his 
 life, he was sitting in judgment upon the king. In 
 the public business his activity is unwearied ; and he 
 alone is equal to a host. At home his hospitality is 
 as splendid as his fortune will permit ; in his friendships 
 there is the most inflexible fidelity ; and no one more 
 readily discerns merit, or more liberally rewards it. 
 Men of piety and learning, ingenious persons in all 
 professions, those who have been distinguished by their 
 courage or their misfortunes, are free to participate his 
 bounty ; and if they want not his bounty, they arc sure 
 to share his friendship and esteem. He never ceases 
 to extol the merits of others, or to conceal his own ; 
 and no one was ever more ready to accept the ex- 
 cuses, or to pardon the hostility, of his political op- 
 ponents. If he undertake to plead the cause of the 
 oppressed, to solicit the favour or deprecate the 
 resentment of the powerful, to reprove the pub- 
 lic ingratitude towards any particular individual, 
 his address and his perseverance are beyond all praise. 
 On such occasions no one could desire a patron or a 
 friend more able, more zealous, or more eloquent. No 
 menace could divert him from his purpose ; no intimi- 
 dation on the one hand, and no promise of emolument 
 or promotion on the other, could alter the serenity of 
 his countenance, or shake the firmness of his soul. 
 By these virtues, which endeared him to his friends 
 and commanded the respect even of his enemies, he, 
 Sir, has acquired a name, which, while you and such 
 
038 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 as you arc mouldering in oblivion, will flourish in 
 every age and in every country in the world. But I 
 must proceed ; the king was condemned to lose his 
 bead. "Against this atrocity almost all the pulpits in 
 Ix>ndon thundered out their censures." We are not to 
 be so easily scared by that thunder upon wood. We 
 remember the fate of Salnioneus, and trust that these 
 persons will one day see cause to repent of their fulmi- 
 nating temerity. These were the very persons, who 
 so lately, and with such vehemence, fulminated their 
 censures against pluralists and non-residents. But 
 some of these persons having grasped three, and others 
 four, of the livings, from which they had fulminated the 
 episcopal clergy, they hence became non-residents 
 themselves, guilty of the very sin against which they 
 had inveighed, and the victims of their own fulminating 
 rage. Nor have they any longer a spark of shame ; 
 they are now grown zealous abettors of the divine right 
 oftythes; and truly as their thirst fortythes is so insa- 
 tiable, they should be quite gorged with the commo- 
 dity, and ordered to have, not only a tenth part of the 
 fruits of the earth, but of the waves of the sea. They 
 were the first to counsel a war of extermination against 
 the king; but when the king was made prisoner, after 
 having been convicted, according to their own repeated 
 declarations, as the author of so much misery and 
 bloodshed, they aflected to compassionate his situation. 
 1 bus, in their pulpits, as in an auction room, they re- 
 tail what wares and trumpery they please to the people ; 
 and what is worse, they reclaim what they have al- 
 ready sold. But "the Scots demanded that the king 
 should be restored to them, and mention the promises 
 of the parliament, when they delivered up the king to 
 the English." But I can prove, from the confession of 
 the Scots themselves, that no such promise was given 
 when the king was delivered up ; and it would have 
 been disgraceful for the English to have entered into 
 any such stipulations with the Scotch troops, who were 
 mercenaries in their pay. Why ? Because the answer 
 of the parliament to the representations of the Scotch, 
 which was published on the fifteenth of March, clearly 
 denies, that any assurances whatever were given re- 
 specting the treatment of the king; for they would 
 have disdained to have submitted to such limitations 
 of their right. But " they demanded that the king 
 should be restored to them." These tender-hearted 
 persons, I suppose, were melted with compassion, and 
 could no longer endure the regrets of royalty ; though 
 on several occasions, in which the subject had been 
 discussed in parliament, they had unanimously agreed 
 that the king might be deprived of his crown for three 
 principal reasons; the despotism of his goveniment, his 
 alienation of the royal domains, and the desertion of 
 bis subjects. In the parliament, which was held at 
 Perth, it was asked. Is the king, who is evidently an 
 enemy to the saints, to be excommunicated from the 
 society of the faithful ? But before they could come to 
 any decision on this question, Montrose advanced with 
 bis troops and dispersed the convention. The same 
 persons, iu their answer to General Cromwell, 165(). 
 confess that be was justly punished, but that there was 
 
 an informality in the proceedings, because they had no 
 sijare in the commission which condemned him. This 
 transaction, tlierefore, which was so atrocious, without 
 their participation, would have been highly patriotic 
 with it; as if the distinctions of right and wrong, of 
 justice and injustice, depend on their arbitrary disposi- 
 tion, or their capricious inclinations. If the king had 
 been restored to them, would he have experienced 
 greater clemency and moderation ? But " the Scotch 
 Delegates had first brought this answer from the Eng- 
 lish Parliament, that they were unwilling to alter the 
 form of the English Government; thougii they after- 
 wards answered that they had changed tijeir former 
 determination, and would adopt such measures as the 
 public interest seemed to require:" and tiiis answer 
 was discreet and wise. What do you infer from hence ? 
 " This change of sentiment," you say, " was contrary 
 to every engagement, to every stipulation, and to com- 
 mon sense." To such common sense as yours it may 
 be adverse, who do not know the difference between a 
 gratuitous promise and a solemn and positive engage- 
 ment. The English freely state to the Scots, what 
 they were under no obligation to do, the sentiments 
 which they then entertained respecting the future form 
 of their government; but the safety of the state soon 
 persuaded them to embrace a different policy, if they 
 would not violate the solemn assurances which they 
 had given to the people. And which, do you think, 
 was most binding on their consciences ; their gi-atuitous 
 reply to the Scotch Delegates, concerning the future 
 form of their constitution, or the necessary oath which 
 they had taken, the solemn engagement into wiiich 
 they had entered with the people, to establish the li- 
 berties of their country ? But that a parliament or a 
 senate may alter their resolutions according to circum- 
 stances, as you deem whatever I assert to be mere ana- 
 baptistical extravagance, I shall endeavour to shew 
 you from the authority of Cicero iu his oration for 
 Plancius. "We should all stand, as it were, in some 
 circular section of the commonwealth ; iu which since it 
 is liable to a rotatory motion, we should choose that 
 position to which the public interest seems to direct us: 
 and this immediately, for I do not think it a mark of 
 inconstancy to accommodate our measures, as we do 
 the course which we steer at sea, to the winds and 
 storms of the political horizon. It is a maxim, which 
 I have found justified by observation, by experience, 
 and by books, by the examples of the wisest and most 
 illustrious characters in this and in other countries, 
 " that the same men are not always bound to de- 
 fend the same opinions, but only such as the cir- 
 cumstances of the country, the current of popular 
 opinion, and the preservation of peace, seem to render 
 necessary." Such were the sentiments of Tully ; 
 though you. Sir, would rather prefer those of Horteu- 
 sius; such were the sentiments of those ages in which 
 political wisdom flourished most ; and which I deem 
 it wise in the anabaptists to adopt. I could men- 
 tion many other practices which are condemned as 
 anabaptistical by these stripling teachers, and their 
 chief Salmasius, who must be regarded as an illiterate 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 939 
 
 (kmce, if we look to things rather than to words. But 
 you say that " the high and mighty chiefs of the 
 I nited States of Holland most strenuously laboured, 
 tliough to no purpose, both by supplications and by 
 the offer of a ransom, to save the sacred life of the 
 king." Thus to wish to buy off justice was the same 
 as not to will the safety of the king; but they soon 
 learned that we were not all merchants, and that the 
 parliament of England was not a venal crew. VV'ith 
 respect to the condemnation of the king, j'ou say that 
 " in order that the sufferings of Charles might be more 
 nearly assimilated to those of Christ, he was exposed 
 to the redoubled mockery of the soldiery." The suf- 
 ferings of Christ were indeed more like those of male- 
 factors, than the sufferings of Charles were like those 
 of Clirist ; though many comparisons of this kind were 
 hawked about by those who were zealous in forging 
 any lie, or devising any imposture that might tend to 
 excite the popular indignation. But suppose that 
 some of the common soldiers did behave with a little 
 i too much insolence, that consideration does not con- 
 stitute the demerit of the execution. I never before 
 1 heard, nor did I ever meet with any person who had 
 I heard, that " a person, who implored God to have 
 j mercy on the king as he was passing to the scaffold, 
 j was instantly put to death in the presence of the mon- 
 l arch." I caused inquiries on the subject to be made 
 ji of the officer who had the command of the guard dur- 
 ing the whole time of the execution, and who hardly 
 ever lost sight of the king's person for a moment ; and 
 he positively declared that he had never heard this 
 before, and that he knew it to be utterly destitute of 
 foundation. Hence we may learn what credit is due 
 to your narrative in other particulars ; for you will be 
 found not to discover much more veracity in your en- 
 deavours to procure affection and respect for Charles 
 after his death, than in your e-vcrtions to make us 
 objects of general and unmerited detestation. You 
 say that " on the fatal scaffold, the king was heard 
 twice to sigh out to the bishop of London, remember ! 
 remember ! " The judges were all in anxiety to know 
 what the words, so emphatically repeated, meant; the 
 bishop, according to your account, was sent for, and 
 with a menace ordered to declare to w hat the reiterated 
 admonition might allude. He, at first, with a precon- 
 certed dissimulation, pleaded his sense of delicacy, and 
 refused to divulge the secret. When they became more 
 impatient, he at last disclosed, as if by constraint, and 
 under the influence of fear, what he would not for the 
 world have had unknown. " The king," said he, 
 " ordered me, if I could gain access to his son, to in- 
 form him that it was the last injunction of his dying 
 father, that, if he were ever restored to his power and 
 crown, he should pardon you, the authors of his death. 
 This was what his majesty again and again commanded 
 me to remember." Which shall I say ? that the king 
 discovered most piety, or the bishop most deceit.'* who 
 with so little difficulty consented to disclose a secret, 
 which on the very scaffold was so mysteriously en- 
 trusted to him, for the purpose of disclosure ? But O ! 
 model of taciturnity ! Charles had long since left this 
 
 injunctian, among others, to his son, in his " Icon Ba- 
 silicon," a book which was evidently written for this 
 express purpose, that this secret, which had been so os- 
 tentatiously enveloped in obscurity, might be divulged 
 with the utmost dispatch, and circulated with the utmost 
 diligence. But I clearly see that you are determined 
 to obtrude upon the ignorant some paragon of perfec- 
 tion, if not quite like Charles Stuart, at least some 
 hyperborean and fabled hero, decorated with all the 
 shewy varnish of imposture ; and that you tricked out 
 this fiction, and embellished it with the effusions of 
 sensibility, in order to entrap the attention of the po- 
 pulace. But though I do not deny but that one or 
 two of the commissioners might perhaps have briefly 
 interrogated the bishop on this subject, I do not find 
 that he was either purposely called before them, or 
 deliberately and scrupulously interrogated, as if it were 
 a matter of their general solicitude and care. But let 
 us grant that Charles, on the scaffold, did deliver to 
 the bishop these dying injunctions to his son to pardon 
 the authors of his death; what did he do more than 
 others have done in similar situations.-* How few per- 
 sons are there about to die upon a scaffold, and to close 
 for ever the tragedy of life, when they must forcibly 
 feel the vanity of every thing human, who would not 
 do the same ; who would not, when on the point of 
 leaving the stage of life, cheerfully lay aside their 
 animosities, their resentments, their aversions, or, at 
 least, pretend to do it, in order to excite compassion, 
 or to leave behind them an opinion of their innocence? 
 That Charles acted the hypocrite on this occasion, and 
 that he never did sincerely, and from his heart, deliver 
 any injunction to his son to pardon the authors of his 
 death, or that his private were at variance with his 
 public admonitions, may be proved by arguments of 
 no small weight. For otherwise the son, who, in other 
 respects was sufficiently obsequious to his father, would 
 doubtlessly have obeyed this his most momentous and 
 dying injunction, so religiously conveyed to him by 
 the bishop. But how did he obey it, when two of our 
 ambassadors, the one in Holland and the other in 
 Spain, neither of whom had any share in the destruc- 
 tion of the king, were put to death by his orders 
 or his influence? And has he not indeed more than 
 once openly declared in his public memorials, that 
 nothing should induce him to pardon the murderers 
 of his father? Consider, therefore, whether this nar- 
 rative of yours be likely to be true, which, the more it 
 commends the father, reviles the son. Next, digress- 
 inor from your purpose, you not only make the royal 
 blood invoke the vengeance of heaven, but the people 
 clamour against the parliament. You forget your 
 own enormities at home, to engage in foreign con- 
 siderations, in which you have no concern. Vile wretch, 
 would the people ever employ you to plead their cause, 
 whose breath is steaming with the effluvia of venereal 
 putrescence ? You ascribe to the people the clamours 
 of fugitives and profligates ; and, like a juggler on a 
 stage, yon imitate the shrieks and cries of the most 
 hideout brutes. Who denies that there may be times, 
 in which the vicious may constitute the majority of the 
 
040 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 citizens, who would rather follow Catiline or Antony, 
 than the more virtuous part of the senate ? But are not 
 good citizens on this account to oppose the bad with 
 vigour and decision? Ought they not to be less de- 
 terred by the sniallness of their numbers, than tliey are 
 animated by the goodness of their cause ? Your beau- 
 tiful scrap of declamation for the people of England, 
 that it may not perish beyond recovery, I would advise 
 you to insert in the Annals of Volusius ; we do not 
 want the savoury eflTusions of such a lecherous rheto- 
 rician. Next we are called to account for our injuries 
 to the church. " The army is a Hydra-headed mon- 
 ster of accumulated heresies." Those who speak the 
 truth, acknowledge that our army excels all others, not 
 only in courage, but in virtue and in piety. Other 
 camps are the scenes of gambling, swearing, riot, and 
 debauchery ; in ours, the troops employ what leisure 
 they have in searching the Scriptures and hearing the 
 word ; nor is there one, who thinks it more honourable 
 to vanquish the enemy than to propagate the truth ; 
 and they not only carry on a military warfare against 
 their enemies, but an evangelical one against them- 
 selves. And indeed if we consider the proper objects 
 of war, what employment can be more becoming sol- 
 diers, who are raised to defend the laws, to be the sup- 
 port of our political and religious institutions ? Ought 
 they not then to be less conspicuous for ferocity than 
 for the civil and the softer virtues, and to consider it as 
 their true and proper destination, not merely to sow the 
 seeds of strife, and reap the harvest of destruction, but 
 to procure peace and security for the whole human 
 race ? If there be any, who either from the mistakes of 
 others, or the infirmities of their own minds, deviate 
 from these noble ends, we ought not to punish them 
 with the sword, but rather labour to reform them by 
 reason, by admonition, by pious supplications to God, 
 to whom alone it belongs to dispel all the errors of the 
 mind, and to impart to whom he will the celestial light 
 of truth. We approve no heresies which are truly such ; 
 we do not even tolerate some; we wish them extirpated, 
 but by those means which are best suited to the pur- 
 pose ; by reason and instruction, the only safe remedies 
 for disorders of the mind ; and not by the knife or the 
 scourge, as if they were seated in the body. You say 
 that " we have done another and equal injury to the 
 temporal property of the church." Ask the protestants 
 of Holland, and even of Upper Germany, whether they 
 ever spared the possessions of the church, against whom 
 the Austrian Prince, as often as he makes war, hardly 
 ever seeks for any other pretext than the restitution of 
 the ecclesiastical domains. But that property did not 
 belong to the church so much as the ecclesiastics, who, 
 in this sense, might most justly be denominated church- 
 men ; indeed they might have been more fully termed 
 wolves than any thing else ; but could there be any 
 impiety in applying to the necessary exigencies of a 
 war which they themselves had occasioned, and which 
 we had no other resource for carrying on, the property 
 of these wolves, or rather the accumulated ravages of 
 ko many ages of ignorance and superstition ?^ut it 
 was expected that the wealth which was ravished from 
 
 the bishops would be distributed among the parochial 
 clergy. They expected, I know, and they desired, that 
 the whole should be diffused among them; for there 
 is no abyss so deep which it is not more easy to fill, 
 than it is to satiate the rapacity of the clergy. In other 
 places there may be an incompetent provision for the 
 clergy ; but ours have an abundant maintenance ; they 
 ought to be called sheep rather than shepherds ; they 
 themselves arc fed more than they feed others ; every 
 thing is fat around them, so that even their head:i seem 
 to swim in fat. They are stuffed with tythes in a 
 way disapproved by the rest of the reformed churches; 
 and they have so little trust in God, that they choose 
 to extort a maintenance, rather by judicial force, and 
 magisterial authority, than to owe it to divine pro- 
 vidence, or the gratitude and benevolence of their con- 
 gregations. And, besides all this, they are so frequently 
 entertained by their pious auditors of both sexes, that 
 they hardly kno\^' what it is to dine or sup at home- 
 Hence they luxuriate in superfluities, rather than lan- 
 guish in want ; their wives and children vie with the 
 wives and children of the rich in luxury and refine- 
 ment ; and to have increased this tendency to prodiga- 
 lity, by an addition to their revenue, would have been 
 the same as to infuse new poison into the church ; a 
 sort of pestilential malady, the introduction of which a 
 voice from heaven lamented under Constantine. We 
 have next to give an account of our enormities towards 
 God, which principally concern our trust in the divine 
 assistance, our prayers and fasts. But, vile miscreant! 
 I will refute you out of your own mouth; and retort 
 upon you that text of the apostle, " Who art thou that 
 judgest another man's servant ?" Before our own mas- 
 ter let us stand or fall. T will add also that saying of 
 the prophet, " When I afflict my soul with fasting, this 
 is turned to my reproach." The rest of your delirious 
 eflTusions on this subject, which no one will take the 
 trouble to read twice, I should do wrong to detail. Nor 
 are those things more to the purpose, which you brawl 
 out concerning our successes. Beware, Sir, beware, 
 lest, after your Pontian toils, you should swell into a 
 polypus of corpulency ; and we need be under appre- 
 hensions, lest as the great Salmasius lately did, you 
 should chill the baths. On the nature of success I will 
 say a few words. Success neither proves a cause to 
 be good, nor indicates it to be bad ; and we demand 
 that our cause should not be judged by the event, but 
 the event by the cause. You now enter on political 
 discussions, the injuries which we have done to all 
 kings, and to all people. What injuries.? for we never 
 intended any ; the affairs of our own government 
 alone occupied our attention, wc neglected those of 
 others ; we do not envy the good that may have ac- 
 crued from our example, and we can ascribe the evil 
 only to the abuse or misapplication of our principles. 
 But, what kings or people ever appointed you to pro- 
 claim their injuries ? Indeed others have heard their 
 orators and ambassadors in the senate, and I have often 
 heard them in the council, not only not complaining of 
 any grievances, but voluntarily suing for our friend- 
 ship and alliance. In the name of their king^ and 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 941 
 
 princes, they have often congratulated us on the state 
 of our affairs, praying for the stability of our govern- 
 ment and the continuance of our prosperity. This was 
 not the language of hostility or hatred, as you assert; 
 and you must either necessarily be convicted of false- 
 l hood, at which you never stick, or kings themselves of 
 I an insincerity and dissimulation, the most humiliating 
 I and most base. But you object to our confession, that 
 I we had set a salutary example to all people, and a for- 
 midable one to all tyrants. This is surely as heinous 
 i a crime as if any one were to say, 
 
 Advis'd, learn justice, and revere the gods. 
 
 Could any thing be uttered more pernicious ? This 
 was the language of Cromwell to the Scots after the 
 battle of Dunbar. And worthy indeed was it of him 
 and of that noble victory. "The infamous pages of 
 Milton abound with the same noisome ingredients." 
 You always associate me with some illustrious col- 
 league ; and, on this occasion, you make me his equal, 
 if not his superior; so that I might on this account 
 think myself most honoured by you, if any thing hon- 
 ourable could proceed from you. "But those pages," 
 you say, " were burnt at Paris by the hands of the 
 common hangman, and by the orders of the parlia- 
 ment." I find that this was by no means done by the 
 senate, 'but by one of the city officers, of what descrip- 
 tion I know not, but at the instigation of the clergy, 
 those indolent vermin, w ho saw at a distance the fate 
 which menaced, and which, I pray, may one day over- 
 take their gluttony and extravagance. Do you im- 
 agine that we, in our turn, could not have burnt Sal- 
 n)asius's defence of the king? I could myself easily 
 have obtained this permission from the magistrates, if 
 I had thought that it merited any thing but contempt. 
 You, in 3our endeavours to extinguish one fire by an- 
 other, have only erected an Herculean pile, from which 
 I shall rise with more lustre and renown ; we with 
 more discretion, did not think it right to communicate 
 any animating heat to the icy chilliness of the royal 
 vindication. But I wonder that the Thoulousians 
 should have become so degenerate, that a defence of 
 religion and of liberty should be burnt in a city, in 
 which, under the Counts of Raymond, religion and li- 
 berty were formerly so nobly defended. " And I wish," 
 you say, " that the writer had been burned as well." 
 Is this your disposition, slave .'' But you have taken 
 good care that I should not indulge a similar wish to- 
 wards you ; for you have been long wasting in blacker 
 flames. Your conscience is scorched by the flames of 
 adultery and rape, and of those perjuries, by the help 
 of which you debauched an unsuspecting girl, to whom 
 you promised marriage, and then abandoned to de- 
 spair. You are writhing under the flames of that mer- 
 cenary passion, which impelled you, though covered 
 with crimes, to lust after the functions of the priest- 
 hood, and to pollute the consecrated elements with your 
 incestuous touch. While you are acting the hypocrite, 
 you utter the most horrid imprecations against hypo- 
 crisy ; and every sentence of condemnation only serves 
 
 to condemn yourself. Such are the atrocities, such 
 the infamy, with which you are all on fire ; these are 
 the infuriated flames, by which you are tormented 
 night and day ; and you suffer a punishment, than 
 which even your bitterest foe could not invoke one 
 more severe. In the mean time, not one hair of my 
 head is singed by the conflagrations which you kindle ; 
 but those affronts are balanced by much delight, and 
 many sweets. One tribunal perhaps, or a single Pari- 
 sian executioner, under some unlucky bias, burnt my 
 book; but nevertheless, how many good and wise men 
 through all France read it, cherished and admired it ? 
 How many, through the spacious tracts of Germany, 
 the domicile of freedom, and wherever any traces of 
 freedom yet remain .'' Moreover Greece itself, and 
 Athens, the eye of Greece, mingles its applause in the 
 voice of its noble Philyras. And this I can truly say, 
 that, as soon as my defence appeared, and had begun 
 to excite the public curiosity, there was no public func- 
 tionary of any prince or state then in the city, who did 
 not congratulate me when we accidentally met, who did 
 not desire my company at his house or visit me at mine. 
 But it would be wrong not to mention you, Adrian 
 Paul, the honour and the ornament of Holland, who, 
 dispatched on a splendid embassy to us, though I had 
 never the pleasure of seeing you, sent me frequent as- 
 surances of your extraordinary predilection and regard. 
 This it often delights me to recollect, and which could 
 never have happened without the special appointment 
 of the Deity, that royalty itself courteously favoured 
 me, who had apparently written against kings ; and 
 afforded to my integrity and veracity, a testimony next 
 to the divine. For, why should I fear to say this, when 
 I consider how zealously and how highly all persons 
 extol that illustrious queen.'* Nor do I think, that he 
 who was the wisest of the Athenians, and with whom I 
 by no means wish to compare myself, was more hon- 
 oured by the testimony of the Pythian oracle, than I 
 am by the approbation of such a queen. If this had 
 happened to me, when a young man, and orators might 
 have taken the same liberties as poets, I should not 
 have hesitated to prefer my fate to that of some of the 
 gods themselves; for, while they contended for the 
 prize of beauty or harmony before a human judge, I, 
 in the most glorious of all contests, had the palm of 
 victory adjudged to me by the voice of an immortal. 
 Thus honoured and caressed, no one but a common 
 hangman would dare to treat me with disrespect; and 
 such an one has both done it and caused it to be done. 
 Here you take great pains, as Salmasius had done be- 
 fore, to prevent us from justifying our struggles for li- 
 berty by the example of the Dutch ; but the same 
 answer will serve for both. They are mistaken who 
 think that we want any example to direct us. We 
 often found it necessary to cherish and support, but 
 never to rival, the Dutch in their struggles for liberty. 
 If any extraordinary courage in the defence of liberty 
 be requisite, we are wont, not to follow others, but to 
 go before them and to lead the way. But you also 
 employ the most paltry oratory, and the most flimsy 
 arguments, to induce the French to go to war with us. 
 
942 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 •' The spin't of the French," you say, " will never deig-n 
 to receive our ambassadors." It has deiffned, which 
 is much more, voluntarily to send ambassadors three 
 or four times to us. The French, tlierefore, are as 
 noble minded as usual ; but you are deg^cnerate and 
 spurious, and your politics betray as much ignorance 
 as falsehood. Hence you attempt to demonstrate that 
 " the negotiation of the United States was purposely 
 protracted, because they wished neither to treat with 
 us, nor to go to war with us." But it certainly behoves 
 their High Mightinesses not to suffer their counsels to 
 be thus exposed, and, I may say, traduced by a Gene- 
 vese fugitive; who, if they suffer him any longer to 
 remain among them, will not only debauch their women 
 but their counsels. For thej' profess the most unfeigned 
 amity ; and have lately renewed a peace with us, of 
 which it is the wish of all good men that it may be 
 perpetual. " It was pleasant," he says, " to see how 
 those ruffian ambassadors," he means the English, 
 " had to contend with the mockery and the menace of 
 the English royalists, but chiefly of the Dutch." If 
 we had not thoroughly known to whom the murder of 
 our former ambassador, Dorislaus, and the affronts 
 which were offered to our two other ambassadors are 
 to be ascribed, we might well exclaim, lo! a slander- 
 ous informant, who falsely accuses the very persons 
 by whose bounty he is fed ! Will you any longer, 
 Batavians ! cherish and support a man, who, not con- 
 tented with practising the most infamous debaucheries 
 in the church, wishes to introduce the most sanguinary 
 butchery into the state ; who not only exposes you to 
 violate the laws of nations, but falsely imputes to you 
 the guilt of such violations ? 
 
 The last head of his accusations is, " our injuries to 
 the reformed churches." But how our injuries towards 
 tliem, rather than theirs towards us? For if you recur 
 to examples, and turn over the annals of history from 
 the Waldenses and the Thoulousians to the famine of 
 Rochelle, you will find that we, of all churches, have 
 been the last to take up arms against tyranny ; but the 
 first " to bring the tyrant to a scaffold." Truly, be- 
 cause we were the first who had it in our power; and 
 I think that they hardly know what they would have 
 done if they had experienced similar opportunities. 
 Indeed I am of opinion, that he against whom we 
 wage war, must necessarily, and as long as we have 
 any use of reason, be judged an enemy; but it has 
 always been as lawful to put an enemy to death, as to 
 attack him with the sword. Since then a tyrant is not 
 only our enemy, but the public enemy of mankind ; 
 he may certainly be put to death with as much justice 
 on the scaffold, as he is opposed with arms in the field. 
 Nor is this only my opinion, or one of recent date ; for 
 common sense has long since dictated the same to 
 others. Hence Tully, in his oration for Rabirius, de- 
 clares, " If it were criminal to put Saturninus to death, 
 arms could not, without a crime, have been taken up 
 against Saturninus; but if you allow the justice of 
 taking up arms against him, you must allow the jus- 
 tice of putting him to death." I have said a good deal 
 on this subject at other times and in other places, and 
 
 the thing is clear enough in itself; from which yoM 
 may conjecture what the French would have done if 
 they had the power. I add, moreover, that those who 
 oppose a tyrant in the field, do all in their power to 
 put him to death ; indeed, iviiatever sophistry they 
 may use, they have already morally put him to death. 
 But this doctrine is not to be imputed to us more than 
 to the French, whom you wish to exempt from the 
 imputation. For whence issued that work of " Franco 
 Gallia," except from Gaul, or " the defence against 
 tyranny.'" A book which is commonly ascribed to 
 Beza. Whence others, which Thaunus mentions? 
 But, as if I were the only author of the doctrine, you 
 say, " Milton makes a pother about that, whose raving 
 spirit I would have chastised as it deserves." You 
 would have chastised, miscreant? You, whose atrocious 
 proceedings, if the church of Middleburgh, which was 
 disgraced by your impieties, had punished as they de- 
 served, it would long since have committed you to the 
 keeping of the devil; and if the civil power had re- 
 warded you according to your desert, you would long 
 ago have expiated your adulteries on a gibbet. And 
 the hour of expiation seems on the point of arriving ; 
 for, as I hear, the church of Middleburgh, awakening 
 to a right sense of 3'our enormities and of its own dis- 
 grace, has expelled such a priest of lechery from her 
 communion, and devoted you to perdition. Hence, 
 the magistrates of Amsterdam have excluded you from 
 the pulpit, that pious ears may no longer be scanda- 
 lized, by hearing the sounds of your profligate effron- 
 tery in the bosom of the sanctuary. Your Greek pro- 
 fessorship is now all that is left you ; and this you will 
 soon lose, except one single letter, of which you will 
 not be the professor, but the pupil, pensile from the 
 top 1^. Nor do I omen this in rage; I express 
 only the truth ; for I am so far from being offended 
 with such revilcrs as you, that I would always wish for 
 such persons to revile me; and I esteem it a mark of 
 the divine benevolence, that those, who have most bit- 
 terly inveighed against me, have usually been per- 
 sons whose abuse is praise, and whose praise is infamy. 
 But what served to restrain the irruption of such im- 
 potence of rage ? " Unless," you say, " I have been 
 fearful of encroaching on the province of the great 
 Salmasius, to whom I relinquish the undivided praise 
 of victory over his great antagonist." Since indeed 
 you now profess to consider me great, as well as him, 
 you will find the difficulties of your undertaking in- 
 creased, particularly since his death ; though I feel 
 very little solicitude about the victory, as long astrutli 
 prevails. In the mean time you exclaim, that " we are 
 converting parricide into an article of faith, to which 
 they secretly desire, though they do not openly dare 
 to ascribe, the unanimous consent of the reformed 
 churches ; and Milton says, that it was the doctrin< 
 of the greatest theologians, who were the principal 
 authors of the reformation." It was, I say ; as I have 
 more fully shewn in the tenure of kings and magis- 
 trates, and in other places. But now we are become 
 scrupulous about doing what has been so often done. 
 In that work, I have cited passages from Luther, Zui 
 
 1 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 943 
 
 ^rliiis, Calvin, Bucer, Martyr, Pareeus, and lastly, from 
 tliat Knox, wlio you say alone countenances the doc- 
 trine which all the reformed churches at that time, and 
 particularly those of France, condemned. And he 
 himself affirms, as I have there explained, that he de- 
 rived the doctrine from Calvin and other eminent theo- 
 logians of that time, with whom he was in habits of 
 familiarity and friendship. And in the same work you 
 will find the same opinions supported by tiie authorities 
 of some of our more pure and disinterested divines, dur- 
 ing" the reig-ns of Mary and Elizabeth. You conclude 
 your work with a prolix effusion of your devotional abo- 
 minations to the Deity. You dare to lift up your adulter- 
 ous eyes and your obdurate heart to heaven ! I will throw 
 no impediments in your way, but leave you to yourself ; 
 for your impiety is great beyond the possibility of in- 
 crease. I now return, as I promised, to produce the prin- 
 cipal accusations against Cromwell, that I may show 
 what little consideration particulars deserve, when the 
 whole taken tog'ether is so frivolous and absurd. " He 
 declaretl in the presence of many witnesses, that it was 
 his intention to subvert every monarchy, and extermi- 
 nate every king." We have often seen before what 
 credit is due to your assertions; perhaps one of the 
 emigrants ascribed this saying to Cromwell. Of the 
 many witnesses, you do not mention the name of a 
 single one; but aspersions, so destitute of proof, must 
 be destitute of permanence. Cromwell was never found 
 to be boastful of his actual exploits: and much less is 
 he wont to employ any ostentatiousness of promise or 
 arrogance of menace respecting atchievements which 
 were never performed, and the performance of which 
 would be so difficult. Those, therefore, who furnished 
 you with this piece of information, must have been 
 liars rather from a spontaneous impulse or a constitu- 
 tional propensity, than from deliberate intention, or 
 they would never have invented a saying so contrary 
 to his character and disposition. But the kings, whose 
 trembling apprehensions and vigilant precautions you 
 labour to excite, instead of accommodating their policy 
 to the opinions which may be casually uttered in the 
 street, had better enter on the consideration of the sub- 
 ject in a manner more suitable to its dignity, and more 
 likely to throw light upon their interests. Another ac- 
 cusation is, that Cromwell had persuaded " the king 
 secretly to withdraw himself into the Isle of Wight." 
 It is well known that the affairs of Charles were often 
 rendered desperate in other ways, and thrice by flight ; 
 first, when he fled from London to York, next, when 
 he took refuge among the Scotch in the pay of Eng- 
 land, and lastly, when he retired to the Isle of Wight. 
 But " Cromwell persuaded this last measure." This is 
 to be sure beyond all possibility of doubt ; but I wonder 
 that the royalists should lavish such an abundance of 
 praise respecting the prudence of Charles, who seems 
 scarce ever to have had a will of his own. For whe- 
 ther he was among his friends or his enemies, in the 
 court or in the camp, he was generally the mere puppet 
 of others ; at one time of his wife, at another of his 
 bishops, now of his nobles, then of his troops, and last 
 of all, of the enemy. And he seems, for the most part. 
 
 to have followed the worst counsels, and those too of 
 the worst advisers. Charles is the victim of persuasion, 
 Charles the dupe of imposition, Charles the pageant of 
 delusion ; he is intimidated by fear or dazzled by 
 hope; and carried about here and there, the common 
 prey of every faction, whether they be friends or foes. 
 Let them either erase these facts from their writings, 
 or cease to extol the sagacity of Charles. Though 
 therefore a superior degree of penetration is an honour- 
 able distinction, yet when a country is torn with fac- 
 tions, it is not without its inconveniencies ; and the 
 most discreet and cautious are most exposed to the ca- 
 lumnies of opposite factions. This often proved an ob- 
 stacle in the way of Cromwell. Hence the presbyte- 
 rians, and hence the enemy, impute every harsh treat- 
 ment which they experience, not to the parliament but 
 to Cromwell alone. They do not even hesitate to ascribe 
 their own indiscretions and miscarriages to the fraud 
 and treachery of Cromwell ; against him every invec- 
 tive is levelled, and every censure passed. Indeed the 
 flight of Charles to the Isle of Wight, which took 
 place while Cromwell was at a distance, and was so 
 sudden and unexpected, that he acquainted by letter 
 every member then in the metropolis with the extraor- 
 dinary occurrence. But this was the state of the case. 
 The king, alarmed by the clamours of the whole army, 
 which, neither softened by his intreaties nor his pro- 
 mises, had begun to demand his punishment, he deter- 
 mined to make his escape in the night with two trusty 
 followers. But more determined to fly, than riglitly 
 knowing where to fly, he was induced, either by the 
 ignorance or the cowardice of his attendants, to surren- 
 der himself to Hammond, governor of the Isle of Wight, 
 whence he thought that he might easily be conveyed by 
 ship into France or Holland. This is what I have 
 learned concerning the king's flight to the Isle of 
 Wight, from those who possessed the readiest means 
 of obtaining information. This is also one of the cri- 
 minal charges ; that " the English under Cromwell 
 procured a great victory over the Scots." Not " pro- 
 cured," Sir, but, without any solecism, gloriously at- 
 chieved. But consider how sanguinary that battle 
 must have been, the mere idea of which excited such 
 trembling apprehensions, that you could not mention 
 it without striking your head against Priscian's pate. 
 But let us see what was the great crime in Cromwell 
 in having gained such a complete victory over the 
 Scots, who were menacing England with invasion, 
 with the loss of her independence. " During this 
 confusion, while Cromwell is absent with his army:" 
 yes, while he was engaged in subduing an enemy, 
 who had marched into the very heart of the king- 
 dom, and menaced the safety of the parliament : 
 while he was employed in reducing the revolted Welsh 
 to their obedience, whom he vanquished wherever he 
 could overtake, and dispersed wherever he could find ; 
 the presbyterians " began to conceive a disgust against 
 Cromwell." Here you speak the truth. While he is 
 repelling the common enemy at the hazard of his life, 
 and bravely defending their interests abroad, they are 
 conspiring to ruin his reputation at home, and suborn 
 
944 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 one Huntington to take away his life. Does not this 
 atrocious instance of ingratitude excite our abhorrence 
 and our rage ? By their instigation a mob of worth- 
 less people, reeking from the taverns and the stews, 
 besieges the doors of the parliament, and (O indignity) 
 compels them by clamour and intimidation, to vote 
 such measures as they chose to dictate. And we 
 should now have seen our Camillus, on his return from 
 Scotland, after all his triumphs, and all his toils, either 
 driven into exile, or put to an ignominious death, if 
 General Fairfax had not openly remonstrated against 
 the disgrace of his invincible lieutenant ; if the whole 
 army, which had itself experienced a good deal of ill- 
 treatment, had not interposed to prevent such atrocious 
 proceedings. Entering the metropolis, they quelled 
 the citizens without much difficulty; they deservedly 
 expelled from the senate those members who favoured 
 the hostile Scotch ; the rest, delivered from the inso- 
 lence of the rabble, broke off the conference which had 
 begun with the king in the Isle of Wight, contrary to 
 the express orders of the parliament. But Huntington 
 the accuser was left to himself; and at last, struck 
 with remorse, solicited the forgiveness of Cromwell, 
 and confessed by whom he had been suborned. These 
 are the principal charges, except those to which I have 
 replied above, which are brought forward against this 
 noble deliverer of his country. Of how little force they 
 are, is very apparent. But, in speaking of such a 
 man, who has merited so well of his country, I should 
 do nothing, if I only exculpated him from crimes; par- 
 ticularly since it not only so nearly concerns the coun- 
 try, but even myself, who am so closely implicated in 
 the same disgrace, to evince to all nations, and as far 
 as I can, to all ages, the excellence of his character, 
 and the splendour of his renown. Oliver Cromwell 
 was sprung from a line of illustrious ancestors, who 
 were distinguished for the civil functions which they 
 sustained under the monarchy, and still more for the 
 part which they took in restoring and establishing true 
 religion in this country. In the vigour and maturity 
 of his life, which he passed in retirement, he was con- 
 spicuous for nothing more than for the strictness of his 
 religious habits and the innocence of his life; and he 
 bad tacitly cherished in his breast that flame of piety 
 which was afterwards to stand him in so much stead on 
 the greatest occasions, and in the most critical exigen- 
 cies. In the last parliament which was called by the 
 king, he was elected to represent his native town ; when 
 he soon became distinguished by the justness of his 
 opinions, and the vigour and decision of his counsels. 
 When the sword was drawn, he offered his services, 
 and was appointed to a troop of horse, whose numbers 
 were soon increased by the pious and the good, who 
 flocked from all quarters to his standard ; and in a short 
 time he almost surpassed the greatest generals in the 
 magnitude and the rapidity of his atchievemeuts. Nor 
 is this surprising; for he was a soldier disciplined to 
 perfection in the knowledge of himself. He had either 
 extinguished, or by habit had learned to subdue, the 
 whole host of vain hopes, fears, and passions, which in- 
 fest the soul. He first acquired the government of 
 
 himself, and over himself acquired the most signal vic- 
 tories ; so that on the first day he took tlic field against 
 the external enemy, he was a veteran in arms, consum" 
 matcly practised in the toils and exigencies of war. It 
 is not possible for me in the narrow limits in which I 
 circumscribe myself on this occasion, to enumerate the 
 many towns which he has taken, the many battles 
 which he has won. The whole surface of the British 
 empire has been the scene of his exploits, and the 
 theatre of his triumphs; which alone would furnisli 
 ample materials for a history, and want a copiousness 
 of narration not inferior to the magnitude and diver- 
 sity of the transactions. This alone seems to be a 
 sufficient proof of his extraordinary and almost super- 
 natural virtue, that by the vigour of his genius, or the 
 excellence of his discipline, adapted, not more to the 
 necessities of war, than to the precepts of Christianity, 
 the good and the brave were from all quarters attracted 
 to his camp, not only as to the best school of military 
 talents, hut of piety and virtue ; and that during the 
 whole war, and the occasional intervals of peace, amid 
 so many vicissitudes of faction and of events, he re- 
 tained and still retains the obedience of his troops, not 
 by largesses or indulgence, but by his sole authority', 
 and the regularity of his pay. In this instance his 
 fame may rival that of Cyrus, of Epaminondas, or any 
 of the great generals of antiquity. Hence he collected 
 an army as numerous and as well equipped as any one 
 ever did in so short a time ; which was uniformly obe- 
 dient to his orders, and dear to the affections of the 
 citizens ; which was formidable to the enemy in the 
 field, but never cruel to those who laid down their 
 arms; which committed no lawless ravages on the per- 
 sons or the property of the inhabitants ; who, when they 
 compared their conduct with the turbulence, the intem- 
 perance, the impiety, and the debauchery of the royal- 
 ists, were wont to salute them as friends, and to con- 
 sider them as guests. They were a stay to the good, a 
 terror to the evil, and the warmest advocates for every 
 exertion of piety and virtue. Nor would it be right to 
 pass over the name of Fairfax, who united the utmost 
 fortitude with the utmost courage ; and the spotless in- 
 nocence of whose life seemed to point him out as the 
 peculiar favourite of heaven. Justly indeed may you 
 be excited to receive this wreath of praise; though you 
 have retired as much as possible from the world, and 
 seek those shades of privacy which were the delight 
 of Scipio. Nor was it only the enemy whom you 
 subdued ; but you have triumphed over that flame of 
 ambition and that lust of glory, which are wont to 
 make the best and the greatest of men their slaves. 
 The purity of your virtues and the splendour of your 
 actions consecrate those sweets of ease which you en- 
 joy ; and which constitute the wished-for haven of 
 the toils of man. Such was the ease which, when 
 the heroes of antiquity possessed, after a life of ex- 
 ertion and glory, not greater than yours, the poets, 
 in despair of finding ideas or expressions better suited 
 to the subject, feigned that they were received into 
 heaven, and invited to recline at the tables of the gods. 
 But whether it were your health, which I principall 
 
 I 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 945 
 
 believe, or any other motive which caused you to re- 
 tire, of this I am convinced, that nothing could have 
 induced you to relinquish the service of your country, 
 if you had not known that in your successor liberty 
 would meet with a protector, and England with a stay 
 to its safety, and a pillar to its glory. For, while you, 
 O Cromwell, are left among us, he hardly shews a 
 proper confidence in the Supreme, who distrusts the 
 security of England ; when he sees that you are in so 
 special a manner the favoured object of the divine 
 regard. But there was another department of the war, 
 which was destined for your exclusive exertions. 
 
 Without entering into any length of detail, I will, 
 if possible, describe some of the most memorable 
 actions, with as much brevity as you performed them 
 with celerity. After the loss of all Ireland, with the 
 exception of one city, you in one battle immediately 
 discomfited the forces of the rebels : and were busily 
 employed in settling the country, when you were 
 suddenly recalled to the war in Scotland. Hence you 
 proceeded with unwearied diligence against the Scots, 
 who were on the point of making an irruption into 
 England with the king in their train : and in about 
 the space of one year you entirely subdued, and added 
 to the English dominion, that kingdom which all our 
 monarchs, during a period of 800 years, had in vain 
 struggled to subject. In one battle you almost anni- 
 hilated the remainder of their forces, who, in a fit of 
 desperation, had made a sudden incursion into Eng- 
 land, then almost destitute of garrisons, and got as far 
 as Worcester ; where you came up with them by 
 forced marches, and captured almost the whole of their 
 nobility. A profound peace ensued ; when we found, 
 though indeed not then for the first time, that you was 
 as wise in the cabinet as valiant in the field. It was 
 your constant endeavour in the senate either to induce 
 them to adhere to those treaties which they had entered 
 into with the enemy, or speedily to adjust others which 
 promised to be beneficial to the country. But when 
 you saw that the business was artfully procrastinated, 
 that every one was more intent on his own selfish in- 
 terest than on the public good, that the people com- 
 plained of the disappointments which they had ex- 
 perienced, and the fallacious promises by which they 
 had been gulled, that they were the dupes of a few 
 overbearing individuals, you put an end to their domi- 
 nation. A new parliament is summoned : and the 
 right of election given to those to whom it was expe- 
 dient. They meet ; but do nothing ; and, after having 
 wearied themselves by their mutual dissensions, and 
 fully exposed their incapacity to the observation of the 
 country, they consent to a voluntary dissolution. In 
 this state of desolation, to which we were reduced, 
 you, O Cromwell ! alone remained to conduct the 
 government, and to save the country. We all will- 
 ingly yield the palm of sovereignty to your unrivalled 
 ability and virtue, except the few among us, who, 
 either ambitious of honours which they have not the 
 capacity to sustain, or who envy those which are con- 
 ferred on one more worthy than themselves, or else 
 who do not know that nothing in the world is more 
 
 pleasing to God, more agreeable to reason, more po- 
 litically just, or more generally useful, than that the 
 supreme power should be vested in the best and the 
 wisest of men. Such, Cromwell, all acknowledge 
 you to be ; such are the services which you have ren- 
 dered, as the leader of our councils, the general of our 
 armies, and the father of your country. For this is 
 the tender appellation by which all the good among 
 us salute you from the very soul. Other names you 
 neither have nor could endure ; and you deservedly 
 reject that pomp of title which attracts the gaze and 
 admiration of the multitude. For what is a title but a 
 certain definite mode of dignity ; but actions such as 
 yours surpass, not only the bounds of our admiration, 
 but our titles; and like the points of pyramids, which 
 are lost in the clouds, they soar above the possibilities 
 of titular commendation. But since, though it be not 
 fit, it may be expedient, that the highest pitch of virtue 
 should be circumscribed within the bounds of some 
 human appellation, you. endured to receive, for the 
 public good, a title most like to that of the father of 
 your country ; not to exalt, but rather to bring you 
 nearer to the level of ordinary men ; the title of king 
 was unworthy the transcendent majesty of your cha- 
 racter. For if you had been captivated by a name 
 over which, as a private man, you had so completely 
 triumphed and crumbled into dust, you would have 
 been doing the same thing as if, after having subdued 
 some idolatrous nation by the help of the true God, 
 you should afterwards fall down and worship the gods 
 which you had vanquished. Do you then. Sir, con- 
 tinue your course with the same unrivalled magna- 
 nimity ; it sits well upon you ; — to you our country 
 owes its liberties, nor can you sustain a character at 
 once more momentous and more august than that of 
 the author, the guardian, and the preserver of our 
 liberties; and hence you have not only eclipsed the 
 atchievements of all our kings, but even those which 
 have been fabled of our heroes. Often reflect what a 
 dear pledge the beloved land of your nativity has en- 
 trusted to your care ; and that liberty which she once 
 expected only from the chosen flower of her talents 
 and her virtues, she now expects from you only, and by 
 you only hopes to obtain. Revere the fond expecta- 
 tions which we cherish, the solicitudes of your anxious 
 country; revere the looks and the wounds of your 
 brave companions in arms, who, under your banners, 
 have so strenuouslj' fought for liberty ; revere theshades 
 of those who perished in the contest ; revere also the 
 opinions and the hopes which foreign states entertain 
 concerning us, who promise to themselves so many 
 advantages from that liberty, which we have so bravely 
 acquired, from the establishment of that new govern- 
 ment, which has begun to shed its splendour on the 
 world, which, if it be suflTered to vanish like a dream, 
 would involve us in the deepest abyss of shame ; 
 and lastly revere yourself; and, after having endured 
 so many suflTerings and encountered so many perils for 
 the sake of liberty, do not sufl^er it, now it is obtained, 
 either to be violated by yourself, or in any one instance 
 impaired by others. You cannot be truly free unless 
 
946 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 wc arc free too; for such is the nature of thing's, that 
 he, who entrenches on the liberty of others, is the first 
 to lose his own and become a slave. But, if you, wlio 
 have hitherto been the patron and tutelary {jenius of 
 liberty, if you, who are exceeded by no one in justice, 
 in piety, and goodness, should hereafter invade tliat 
 liberty, which you have defended, your conduct must be 
 fatally operative, not only aijainst the cause of liberty, 
 but the general interests of piety and virtue. Your 
 integrity and virtue will appear to have evaporated, 
 your faith in religion to have been small ; your cha- 
 racter with posterity will dwindle into insignificance, 
 by which a most destructive blow will be levelled 
 against the happiness of mankind. The work which 
 you have undertaken is of incalculable moment, which 
 will thoroughly sift and expose every principle and 
 sensation of 3'our heart, which will fully display the 
 vigour and genius of your character, which will evince 
 whether you really possess those great qualities of 
 piety, fidelity, justice, and self-denial, which made us 
 believe that you were elevated by the special direction 
 of the Deity to the highest pinnacle of power. At once 
 wisely and discreetly to hold the sceptre over three 
 powerful nations, to persuade people to relinquish in- 
 veterate and conupt for new and more beneficial 
 maxims and institutions, to penetrate into the remotest 
 parts of the country, to have the mind present and ope- 
 rative in every quarter, to watch against surprise, to 
 provide against danger, to reject the blandishments of 
 pleasure and the pomp of power; — these are exertions 
 compared with which the labour of war is mere pas- 
 time ; which will require every energy and employ 
 every faculty that you possess ; which demand a man 
 supported from above, and almost instructed by imme- 
 diate inspiration. These and more than these are, no 
 doubt, the objects which occupy your attention and 
 engross your soul ; as well as the means by which you 
 may accomplish these important ends, and render our 
 liberty at once more ample and more secure. And this 
 you can, in my opinion, in no other way so readily 
 effect, as by associating in your councils the compa- 
 nions of your dangers and your toils; men of exem- 
 plary modesty, integrity, and courage; whose hearts 
 have not been hardened in cruelty and rendered insen- 
 sible to pity by the sight of so much ravage and so 
 much death, but whom it has rather inspired with the 
 love of justice, with a respect for religion, and with the 
 feeling of compassion, and who are more zealously in- 
 terested in the preservation of liberty, in proportion as 
 they have encountered more perils in its defence. They 
 are not strangers or foreigners, a hireling rout scraped 
 together from the dregs of the people, but for the most 
 part, men of the better conditions in life, of families 
 not disgraced if not ennobled, of fortunes either ample 
 or moderate ; and what if some among them are recom- 
 mended by their poverty .'' for it was not the lust of 
 ravage which brought them into the field ; it was the 
 calamitous aspect of the times, which, in the most cri- 
 tical circumstances, and often amid the most disastrous 
 turns of fortune, roused them to attempt the deliver- 
 ance of their country from the fangs of despotism. They 
 
 were men prepared, not only to debate, but to fight ; 
 not only to argue in the senate, but to engage the 
 enemy in the field. But unless we will continually 
 cherish indefinite and illusory expectations, I see not 
 in whom we can place any confidence, if not in these 
 men and such as these. We have the surest and most 
 indubitable pledge of their fidelity in this, that they 
 have already exposed themselves to death in the ser- 
 vice of their country; of their piety in this, that they 
 have been always wont to ascribe the whole glory of 
 their successes to the favour of the Deity, whose help 
 they have so suppliantly implored, and so conspicu- 
 ously obtained ; of their justice in this, that they even 
 brought the king to trial, and when his guilt was proved, 
 refused to save his life; of their moderation in our own 
 uniform experience of its effects, and because, if by 
 any outrage, they should disturb the peace which they 
 have procured, they themselves will be the first to feel 
 the miseries which it will occasion, the first to meet tl:c 
 havoc of the sword, and the first again to risk their 
 lives for all those comforts and distinctiojis which they 
 have so happily acquired ; and lastly, of their fortitude 
 in this, that there is no instance of any people who ever 
 recovered their liberty with so much courage and suc- 
 cess ; and therefore let us not suppose, that there can 
 be any persons who will be more zealous in preserving 
 it. I now feel myself irresistibly compelled to comme- 
 morate the names of some of those who have most con- 
 spicuously signalized themselves in these times : and 
 first thine, O Fleetwood ! w horn I have known from a 
 boy, to the present blooming maturity of your military 
 fame, to have been inferior to none in humanity, in 
 gentleness, in benignity of disposition, whose intre- 
 pidity in the combat, and whose clemency in victory, 
 have been acknowledged even by the enemy : next 
 thine, O Lambert! who, with a mere handful of men, 
 checked the progress, and sustained the attack, of the 
 Duke of Hamilton, who was attended by the whole 
 flower and vigour of the Scottish youth : next thine, O 
 Desborough ! and thine, O Hawley ! who wast always 
 conspicuous in the heat of the combat, and the thickest 
 of the fight; thine, Overton! who hast been most 
 endeared to me now for so many years by the simili- 
 tude of our studies, the suavity of your manners, and 
 the more than fraternal sympathy of our hearts ; you, 
 who, in the memorable battle of Marston Moor, when 
 our left wing was put to the rout, were beheld with 
 admiration, making head against the enemy with your 
 infantry and repelling his attack, amid the thickest of 
 the carnage; and lastly you, who in the Scotch war, 
 when under the auspices of Cromwell, occupied tho 
 coast of F'ifc, opened a passage beyond Stirling, and 
 made the Scotch of the west, and of the north, and even 
 the remotest Orkneys, confess your humanity, and sub- 
 mit to your power. Besides these, I will mention somn 
 as celebrated for their political wisdom and their civil 
 virtues,whom you, Sir, have admitted into your councils, 
 and who are known to me by friendship or by fame. 
 Wbitlocke, Pickering, Strickland, Sydenham, Sydney, 
 (a name indissolubly attached to the interests of liberty,) 
 Montacute, Laurence, both of highly rultivaled minds 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 947 
 
 and polished taste ; besides many other citizens of sin- 
 gular merit, some of whom were distinguished by their 
 exertions in the senate, and others in the field. To these 
 men, whose talents are so splendid, and whose worth 
 has been so thoroughly tried, you would without doubt 
 do right to trust the protection of our liberties ; nor 
 would it be easy to say to whom they might more 
 safely be entrusted. Then, if you leave the church to 
 its own government, and relieve yourself and the other 
 public functionaries from a charge so onerous, and so 
 incompatible with your functions ; and will no longer 
 suffer two powers, so different as the civil and the 
 ecclesiastical, to commit fornication together, and by 
 their mutual and delusive aids in appearance to strength- 
 en, but in reality to weaken and finally to subvert, each 
 other; if you shall remove all power of persecution out 
 of the church, (but persecution will never cease, so long 
 as men are bribed to preacii the gospel by a mercenary 
 salary, which is forcibly extorted, rather than gratuit- 
 ously bestowed, which serves only to poison religion 
 and to strangle truth,) you will then effectually have 
 cast those money-changers out of the temple, who do 
 not merely truckle with doves but with the dove itself, 
 with the Spirit of the Most High. Then, since there 
 are often in a republic men who have the same itch 
 for making a multiplicity of laws, as some poetasters 
 have for making many verses, and since laws are 
 usually worse in proportion as they are more numerous, 
 if you shall not enact so many new laws as you abolish 
 old, which do not operate so much as warnings against 
 evil, as impediments in the way of good ; and if you 
 shall retain only those which are necessary, which do 
 not confound the distinctions of good and evil, which, 
 while they prevent the frauds of the wicked, do not pro- 
 hibit the innocent freedoms of the good, which punish 
 crimes, without interdicting those things which are 
 lawful, only on account of the abuses to which they 
 may occasionally be exposed. For the intention of 
 laws is to check the commission of vice, but liberty is 
 the best school of virtue, and affords the strongest en- 
 couragements to the practice. Then if you make a 
 better provision for the education of our youth than has 
 hitherto been made, if you prevent the promiscuous in- 
 struction of the docile and the indocile, of the idle and 
 the diligent, at the public cost, but reserve the rewards 
 of learning for the learned, and of merit for the meri- 
 torious. If you permit the free discussion of truth 
 without any hazard to the author, or any subjection to 
 the caprice of an individual, which is the best way to 
 make truth flourish and knowledge abound, the cen- 
 sure of the half-learned, the envy, the pusillanimity, or 
 the prejudice which measures the discoveries of others, 
 and in short every degree of wisdom, by the measure of 
 its own capacity, will be prevented from doling out in- 
 formation to us according to their own arbitrary choice. 
 Lastly, if you shall not dread to hear any truth, or any 
 falsehood, whatever it may be, but if you shall least of 
 all listen to those, who think that they can never be 
 free, till the liberties of others depend on their caprice, 
 and who attempt nothing with so much zeal and ve- 
 hemence, as to fetter, not only the bodies but the minds 
 3 i> 
 
 of men, who labour to introduce into the state the worst 
 of all tyrannies, the tyranny of their own depraved 
 habits and pernicious opinions ; you will always be 
 dear to those, who think not merely that their own sect 
 or faction, but that all citizens of all descriptions, should 
 enjoy equal rights and equal laws. If there be any 
 one who thinks that this is not liberty enough, he ap- 
 pears to me to be rather inflamed with the lust of am- 
 bition, or of anarchy, than with the love of a genuine 
 and well regulated liberty ; and particularly since the 
 circumstances of the country, which has been so con- 
 vulsed by the storms of faction, which are yet hardly 
 still, do not permit us to adopt a more perfect or de- 
 sirable form of government. 
 
 For it is of no little consequence, O citizens, by what 
 principles you are governed, either in acquiring liberty, 
 or in retaining it when acquired. And unless that li- 
 berty, which is of such a kind as arms can neither pro- 
 cure nor take away, which alone is the fruit of piety, 
 of justice, of temperance and unadulterated virtue, 
 shall have taken deep root in your minds and hearts, 
 there will not long be wanting one who will snatch 
 from you by treachery what you have acquired by 
 arms. War has made many great whom peace makes 
 small. If after being released from the toils of war, 
 you neglect the arts of peace, if your peace and your 
 liberty be a state of warfare, if war be your only virtue, 
 the summit of your praise, you will, believe me, soon 
 find peace the most adverse to your interests. Your 
 peace will he only a more distressing war; and that 
 which you imagined liberty will prove the worst of 
 slavery. Unless by the means of piety, not frothy and 
 loquacious, but operative, unadulterated, and sincere, 
 you clear the horizon of the mind from those mists of 
 superstition, which arise from the ignorance of true re- 
 ligion, you will always have those who will bend your 
 necks to the yoke as if you were brutes, who notwith- 
 standing all your triumphs will put you up to the high- 
 est bidder, as if you were mere booty made in war; 
 and will find an exuberant source of wealth in your 
 ignorance and superstition. Unless you will subjugate 
 the propensity to avarice, to ambition, and sensuality, 
 and expel all luxury from yourselves and from your 
 families, you will find that you have cherished a more 
 stubborn and intractable despot at home, than you ever 
 encountered in the field ; and even your very bowels 
 will be continually teeming with an intolerable pro- 
 geny of tyrants. Let these be the first enemies whom 
 you subdue; this constitutes the campaign of peace ; 
 these are triumphs, difficult indeed, but bloodless; and 
 far more honourable than those trophies, which are 
 purchased only by slaughter and by rapine. Unless 
 you are victors in this service, it is in vain that you have 
 been victorious over the despotic enemy in the field. 
 For if you think that it is a more grand, a more bene- 
 ficial, or a more wise policy, to invent subtle expedi- 
 ents for increasing the revenue, to multiply our naval 
 and military force, to rival in craft the ambassadors of 
 foreign states, to form skilful treaties and alliances, 
 than to administer unpolluted justice to the people, to 
 redress the injured, and to succour the distressed, and 
 
948 
 
 THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 speedily to restore to every one his own, yon are in- 
 volved in a cloud of error; and too late will you per- 
 ceive, when the illusion of those mighty benefits has 
 vanished, that in neglecting these, which you now 
 think inferior considerations, you have only been pre- 
 cipitating your own ruin and despair. The fidelity of 
 enemies and allies is frail and perishing, unless it be 
 cemented by the principles of justice ; that wealth and 
 those honours, which most covet, readily change mas- 
 ters; they forsake the idle, and repair where virtue, 
 where industry, where patience flourish roost. Thus 
 nation precipitates the downfall of nation ; thus the 
 more sound part of one people subverts the more cor- 
 rupt; thus you obtained the ascendant over the royal- 
 ists. If you plunge into the same depravity, if you 
 imitate their excesses, and hanker after the same vani- 
 ties, you will become royalists as well as they, and 
 liable to be subdued by the same enemies, or by others 
 in your turn ; who, placing their reliance on the same 
 religious principles, the same patience, the same inte- 
 grity and discretion which made you strong, will de- 
 servedly triumph over you, who are immersed in 
 debauchery, in the luxury and the sloth of kings. 
 Then, as if God was weary of protecting you, you will 
 be seen to have passed through the fire that you might 
 perish in the smoke ; the contempt which you will 
 then experience will be great as the admiration which 
 you now enjoy; and, what may in future profit others, 
 but cannot benefit yourselves, you will leave a salutary 
 proof what great things the solid reality of virtue and 
 of piety might have eflTccted, when the mere counter- 
 feit and varnished resemblance could attempt such 
 mighty atchievements, and make such considerable 
 advances towards the execution. For, if either through 
 your want of knowledge, your want of constancy, or 
 your want of virtue, attempts so noble, and actions so 
 glorious, have had an issue so unfortunate, it does not 
 therefore follow, that better men should be either less 
 daring in their projects or less sanguine in their hopes. 
 But from such an abyss of corruption into which you 
 so readily fall, no one, not even Cromwell himself, nor 
 a whole nation of Brutuscs, if they were alive, could 
 deliver you if they would, or would deliver you if 
 they could. For who would vindicate your right of 
 unrestrained suffrage, or of choosing what representa- 
 tives you liked best, merely that you might elect the 
 creatures of your own faction, whoever they might be, 
 or him, however small might be his worth, who would 
 give you the most lavish feasts, and enable you to 
 drink to the greatest excess? Thus not wisdom and 
 authority, but turbulence and gluttony, would soon 
 exalt the vilest miscreants from our taverns and our 
 brothels, from our towns and villages, to the rank and 
 dignity of senators. For, should the management 
 of the republic be entrusted to persons to whom no one 
 would willingly entrust the management of his private 
 concerns ; and the treasury of the state be left to the 
 care of those who had lavished their own fortunes in an 
 infamous prodigality ? Should they have the charge of 
 the public purse, which they would soon convert into 
 a private, by their unprincipled peculations ? Are they 
 
 fit to be the legislators of a whole people who them- 
 selves know not what law, what reason, what right 
 and wrong, what crooked and straight, what licit and 
 illicit means? who think that all power consists in 
 outrage, all dignity in the parade of insolence ? who 
 neglect every other consideration for the corrupt gra- 
 tification of their friendships, or the prosecution of their 
 resentments ? who disperse their own relations and 
 creatures through the provinces, for the sake of levy- 
 ing taxes and confiscating goods; men, for the greater 
 part, the most profligate and vile, who buy up for 
 themselves what they pretend to expose to sale, who 
 thence collect an exorbitant mass of wealth, which 
 they fraudulently divert from the public service ; who 
 thus spread their pillage through the country, and in 
 a moment emerge from penury and rags, to a state of 
 splendour and of wealth ? Who could endure such 
 thievish servants, such vicegerents of their lords ? 
 Who could believe that the masters and the patrons of 
 a banditti could be the proper guardians of liberty ? or 
 who would suppose that he should ever be made one 
 hair more free by such a set of public functionaries, 
 (though they might amount to five hundred elected in 
 this manner from the counties and boroughs,) when 
 among them who are the very guardians of liberty, 
 and to whose custody it is committed, there must be 
 so many, who know not either how to use or to enjoy 
 liberty, who either understand the principles or merit 
 the possession ? But what is worthy of remark, those 
 who are the most unworthy of liberty, are wont to 
 behave most ungratefully towards their deliverers. 
 Among such persons, who would be willing either to 
 fight for liberty, or to encounter the least peril in its 
 defence ? It is not agreeable to the nature of things, 
 that such persons ever should be free. However much 
 they may brawl about liberty, they are slaves, both at 
 home and abroad, but without perceiving it ; and when 
 they do perceive it, like unruly horses, that are impatient 
 of the bit, they will endeavour to throw off the yoke, not 
 from the loveof genuine liberty, (which agood man only 
 loves and knows how to obtain,) but from the impulses 
 of pride and little passions. But though they often at- 
 tempt it by arms, they will make no advances to the 
 execution; they may change their masters, but will 
 never be able to get rid of their servitude. This often 
 happened to the ancient Romans, wasted by excess, and 
 enervated by luxury : and it has still more so been the 
 fate of the modems; when after a long interval of years 
 they aspired under the auspices of Crescentius, Nomen- 
 tanus, and afterwards of Nicolas Rentius, who had 
 assumed the title of Tribune of the People, to restore 
 the splendour and re-establish the government of an- 
 cient Rome. For, instead of fretting with vexation, or 
 thinking that you can lay the blame on any one but 
 yourselves, know that to be free is the same thing as 
 to be pious, to be wise, to be temperate and just, to be 
 frugal and abstinent, and lastly, to be magnanimous 
 and brave ; so to be the opposite of all these is the 
 same as to be a slave ; and it usually happens by the 
 appointment, and as it were retributive justice, of the 
 Deity, that that people which cannot govern them-. 
 
 I 
 
THE SECOND DEFENCE OF THE PEOPLE OF ENGLAND. 
 
 949 
 
 selves, and moderate their passions, but crouch under 
 the slavery of their lusts, should be delivered up to the 
 sway of those whom they abhor, and made to submit 
 to an involuntary servitude. It is also sanctioned by 
 the dictates of justice and by the constitution of nature, 
 that he, who from the imbecility or derang'eraent of his 
 intellect is incapable of governing himself, should, like 
 a minor, be committed to the government of another; 
 and least of all, should he be appointed to superintend 
 the affairs of others or the interest of the state. You 
 therefore, who wish to remain free, either instantly be 
 wise, or, as soon as possible, cease to be fools ; if you 
 think slavery an intolerable evil, learn obedience to 
 reason and the government of yourselves ; and finally 
 bid adieu to your dissensions, your jealousies, your 
 superstitions, your outrages, your rapine, and your 
 lusts. Unless you will spare no pains to effect this, 
 you must be judged unfit, both by God and mankind, 
 to be entrusted with the possession of liberty and the 
 administration of the government ; but will rather, like 
 a nation in a state of pupillage, want some active and 
 courageous guardian to undertake the management of 
 your affairs. With respect to myself, whatever turn 
 things may take, I thought that my exertions on the 
 present occasion would be serviceable to my country, 
 and, as they have been cheerfully bestowed, I hope 
 that they have not been bestowed in vain. And I 
 have not circumscribed my defence of liberty within 
 any petty circle around me, but have made it so gene- 
 ral and comprehensive, that the justice and the reason- 
 ableness of such uncommon occurrences explained and 
 defended, both among my countrymen and among 
 foreigners, and which all good men cannot but ap- 
 
 prove, may serve to exalt the glory of my country, and 
 to excite the imitation of posterity. If the conclusion 
 do not answer to the beginning, that is their concern ; 
 I have delivered my testimony, I would almost say, 
 have erected a monument, that will not readily be 
 destroyed, to the reality of those singular and mighty 
 atchievements, which were above all praise. As the 
 Epic Poet, who adheres at all to the rules of that spe- 
 cies of composition, does not profess to describe the 
 whole life of the hero whom he celebrates, but only 
 some particular action of his life, as the resentment of 
 Achilles at Troy, the return of Ulysses, or the coming 
 of vEneas into Italy ; so it will be sufficient, either for 
 my j ustification or apology, that I have heroically cele- 
 brated at least one exploit of my countrymen ; I pass 
 by the rest, for who could recite the atchievements of 
 a whole people ? If after such a display of courage and 
 of vigour, you basely relinquish the path of virtue, if 
 you do any thing unworthy of yourselves, posterity 
 will sit in judgment on your conduct. They will see 
 that the foundations were well laid ; that the beginning 
 (nay it was more than a beginning) was glorious ; but, 
 with deep emotions of concern will they regret, that 
 those were wanting who might have completed the 
 structure. They will lament that perseverance was 
 not conjoined with such exertions and such virtues. 
 They will see that there was a rich harvest of glory, 
 and an opportunity afforded for the greatest atchieve- 
 ments, but that men only were wanting for the execu- 
 tion ; while they were not wanting who could rightly 
 counsel, exhort, inspire, and bind an unfading wreath 
 of praise round the brows of the illustrious actors in so 
 glorious a scene. 
 
FAMILIAR EPISTLES, 
 
 TRANSLATRD FROM THE LATIN, 
 
 BY ROBERT FELLOVVES, A. M. OXON. 
 
 To his Tutor Thomas Jure. 
 
 Though I had determined, luy excellent tutor, to 
 write you an epistle in verse, yet I could not satisfy 
 myself without sending also another in prose. For the 
 emotions of my gratitude, which your services so justly 
 inspire, are too expansive and too warm to be expressed 
 in the confined limits of poetical metre ; they demand 
 the unconstrained freedom of prose, or rather the ex- 
 uberant richness of Asiatic phraseology. Though it 
 would far exceed my power accurately to describe how 
 much I am obliged to you, even if I could drain dry 
 all the sources of eloquence, or exhaust all the topics 
 of discourse which Aristotle or the famed Parisian Lo- 
 gician has collected. You complain with truth, that 
 my letters have been very few and very short; but I 
 do not grieve at the omission of so pleasurable a duty, 
 so much as I rejoice at having such a place in your 
 regard as makes you anxious often to hear from me. 
 I beseech you not to take it amiss, that I have not now 
 written to you for more than three years ; but with 
 your usual benignity and candour to impute it rather 
 to circumstances than to inclination. For, heaven 
 knows, that I regard you as a parent, that I have 
 always treated you with the utmost respect, and that I 
 was unwilling to teaze you with my compositions. 
 And I was anxious that if my letters had nothing else 
 to recommend them, they might be recommended by 
 their rarity. And lastly, since the ardour of my regard 
 makes me imagine that you are always present, that I 
 hear your voice and contemplate your looks ; and as 
 thus (which is usually the case with lovers) I charm 
 away my grief by the illusion of your presence, I was 
 afraid when I wrote to you the idea of your distant 
 separation should forcibly rush upon my mind ; and 
 that the pain of your absence, which was almost soothed 
 into quiescence, should revive and disperse the plea- 
 surable dream. I long since received your desirable 
 present of the Hebrew Bible. I wrote this at my lodg- 
 
 ' 
 
 ings in the city, not as usual, surrounded by my books 
 If therefore there be any thing in this letter which 
 either fails to give pleasure, or which frustrates expec- 
 tation, it shall be compensated by a more elaborate 
 composition as soon as I return to the dwelling of the 
 Muses. 
 
 London, March 26, 1625. 
 
 II. 
 
 To Alexander Gill. 
 
 I RECEIVED your letters and your poem, with which 
 I was highly delighted, and in which I discover the 
 majesty of a poet, and the style of Virgil. I knew how 
 impossible it would be for a person of your genius en- 
 tirely to divert his mind from the culture of the Muses, 
 and to extinguish those heavenly emotions, and that 
 sacred and ethereal fire which is kindled in your heart. 
 For what Claudian said of himself may be said of you, 
 your " whole soul is instinct with the fire of Apollo." 
 If therefore, on this occasion, you have broken your 
 own promises, I here commend the want of constancy 
 which you mention ; I commend the want of virtue, 
 if any want of virtue there be. But, in referring the 
 merits of your poem to my judgment, you confer on 
 me as great an honour as the gods would if the con- 
 tending musical immortals had called me in to adjudge 
 the palm of victory ; as poets babble that it formerly 
 fell to the lot of Imolus the guardian of the Lydian 
 mount. I know not whether I ought to congratulate 
 Henry Nassau more on the capture of the city or the 
 composition of your poems. For I think that this vic- 
 tory produced nothing more entitled to distinction and 
 to fame than your poem. But since you celebrate the 
 successes of our allies in lays so harmonious and cner- , 
 getic, what may we not expect w hen our own successes 
 call for the congratulations of your muse.-* Adieu,] 
 learned Sir, and believe me greatly obliged by the fa- 
 vour of your verses. 
 
 London, May 20, 1628. 
 
FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 951 
 
 III. 
 To the same. 
 
 In my former letter I did not so much answer yours 
 as deprecate the oblig'ation of then answering it ; and 
 therefore at the time I tacitly promised that you should 
 soon receive another, in which I would reply at length 
 to your friendly challenge. . But, thoagh I had not 
 promised this, it would most justly be your due, since 
 one of your letters is full worth two of mine, or rather, 
 on an accurate computation, worth a hundred. When 
 your letter arrived, I was strenuously engaged in that 
 work concerning which I had given you some obscure 
 hints, and the execution of which could not be delayed. 
 One of the fellows of our college, who was to be the 
 respondent in a philosophical disputation for his degree, 
 engaged me to furnish him with some verses, which 
 are annually required on this occasion ; since he him- 
 self had long neglected such frivolous pursuits, and 
 was then intent on more serious studies. Of these 
 Tcrses I sent you a printed copy, since I knew both 
 your discriminating taste in poetry, and your candid 
 allowances for poetry like mine. If you will in your 
 turn deign to communicate to me any of your produc- 
 tions, you will, I can assure you, find no one to whom 
 they will give more delight, or who will more impar- 
 tially endeavour to estimate their worth. For as often 
 as I recollect the topics of your conversation, (the loss 
 of which I regret even in this seminary of erudition,) 
 I cannot help painfully reflecting on what advantages 
 T am deprived by your absence, since I never left your 
 company without an increase of knowledge, and always 
 hjid recourse to your mind as to an emporium of litera- 
 ture. Among us, as far as I know, there are only two 
 or three, who without any acquaintance with criticism 
 or philosophy, do not instantly engage with raw and 
 untutored judgments in the study of theology; and of 
 this they acquire only a slender smattering, not more 
 than sufficient to enable them to patch together a 
 sermon with scraps pilfered, with little discrimination, 
 from this author and from that. Hence I fear, lest our 
 clergy should relapse into the sacerdotal ignorance of 
 a former age. Since I find so few associates in study 
 here, I should instantly direct my steps to London, if 
 I had not determined to spend the summer vacation in 
 the depths of literary solitude, and, as it were, hide 
 myself in the chamber of the muses. As you do this 
 every day, it would be injustice in me any longer to 
 divert your attention or engross your time. Adieu. 
 
 Cambridge, July 2, 1628. 
 
 IV. 
 
 To Thomas Jure. 
 
 On reading your letter, my excellent tutor, I 
 find only one superfluous passage, an apology for not 
 writing to me sooner ; for though nothing gives me 
 
 more pleasure than to hear from you, how can I or 
 ought I to expect that you should always have leisure 
 enough from more serious and more sacred engagements 
 to write to me ; particularly when it is kindness, and 
 not duty, which prompts you to write ? Your many 
 recent services must prevent me from entertaining any 
 suspicion of your forgetfulness or neglect. Nor do I 
 see how you could possibly forget one on whom you 
 had conferred so many favours. Having an invitation 
 into your part of the country in the spring, I shall 
 readily accept it, that I may enjoy the deliciousness of 
 the season as well as that of your conversation ; and 
 that I may withdraw myself for a short time from the 
 tumult of the city to your rural mansion, as to the re- 
 nowned portico of Zeno, or Tusculan of Tully, where 
 you live on your little farm with a moderate fortune, 
 but a princely mind ; and where you practise the con- 
 tempt, and triumph over the temptations of ambition, 
 pomp, luxury, and all that follows the chariot of for- 
 tune, or attracts the gaze and admiration of the thought- 
 less multitude. I hope that you who deprecated the 
 blame of delay, will pardon me for my precipitance ; 
 for, after deferring this letter to the last, I chose rather 
 to write a few lines, however deficient in elegance, than 
 to say nothing at all. 
 
 Adieu, reverend sir. 
 Cambridge, July 21, 1628. 
 
 V. 
 
 To Alexander Gill. 
 
 If you had made me a present of a piece of plate, 
 or any other valuable which excites the admiration of 
 mankind, I should not be ashamed in my turn to remu- 
 nerate you, as far as my circumstances would permit. 
 But since you, the day before yesterday, presented me 
 with an elegant and beautiful poem in Hendecasyllabic 
 verse, which far exceeds the worth of gold, you have 
 increased my solicitude to discover in what manner I 
 may requite the favour of so acceptable a gift. I had 
 by me at the time no compositions in a like style which 
 I thought at all fit to come in competition with the ex- 
 cellence of your performance. I send you therefore a 
 composition which is not entirely my own, but the pro- 
 duction of a truly inspired bard, from whom I last 
 week rendered this ode into Greek Heroic verse, as I 
 was lying in bed before the day dawned, without any 
 previous deliberation, but with a certain impelling 
 faculty, for which I know not how to account. By his 
 help who does not less surpass you in his subject than 
 you do me in the execution, I have sent something 
 which may serve to restore the equilibrium between us. 
 If you see reason to find fault with any particular pas- 
 sage, I must inform you that, from the time I left your 
 school, this is the first and the last piece I have ever com- 
 posed in Greek ; since, as you know, I have attended 
 more to Latin and to English composition. He who 
 at this time employs his labour and his time in writing 
 Greek, is in dangerof writing what will never he read 
 
953 
 
 FAmUAR EPISTLES. 
 
 Adieu, and expect to see me, God willing, at London 
 on Monday amon<>° the booksellers. In the mean time, 
 if you have interest enough with that Doctor who is 
 the master of the college to promote my business, I 
 beseech you to see him as soon as possible, and to act 
 as your friendship for me may prompt. 
 From my vil/n, Decemb. 4, 1634. 
 
 VI. 
 
 To Carolo Deodati. 
 
 I CLEARLY see that 3'ou are determined not to be 
 overcome in silence ; if this be so, you shall have 
 the palm of victory, for I will write first. Though, 
 if the reasons which make each of us so long in writ- 
 ing to the other should ever be judicially examined, 
 it will appear that I have many more excuses for 
 not writing than you. For it is well known, and 
 you well know, that I am naturally slow in writing, 
 and averse to write ; while you, either from dis- 
 position or from habit, seem to have little reluctance 
 in engaging in these literary (jrpoaipuvriaitQ) allocutions. 
 It is also in my favour, that your method of study is 
 such as to admit of frequent interruptions, in which 3'ou 
 visit your friends, write letters, or go abroad ; but it ist 
 my way to suffer no impediment, no love of ease, ntr 
 avocation whatever, to chill the ardour, to break the 
 continuity, or divert the completion of my literary pur- 
 suits. From this and no other reasons it often happens 
 that I do not readily employ my pen in any gratuitous 
 exertions; but I am not, nevertheless, my dear Deo- 
 dati, a very sluggish correspondent ; nor has it at any 
 time happened that I ever left any letter of yours un- 
 answered till another came. So I hear that you write 
 to the bookseller, and often to your brother, either of 
 whom, from their nearness, would readily have for- 
 warded any communication from you to me. But 
 what I blame you for is, for not keeping your promise 
 of paying me a visit when you left the city ; a promise 
 which, if it had once occurred to your thoughts, would 
 certainly have forcibly suggested the necessity of 
 writing. These are my reasons for expostulation and 
 censure. You will look to your own defence. But 
 what can occasion your silence ? Is it ill health .'' Are 
 there in those parts any literati with whom you may 
 play and prattle as we used to do ? When do you re- 
 turn ? How long do you mean to stay among the Hy- 
 perboreans.' I wish you would give me an answer to 
 each of these questions ; and that you may not suppose 
 that I am quite unconcerned about what relates to you, 
 I must inform you that in the beginning of the autumn 
 I went out of my way to see your brother, in order to 
 leam how you did. And lately when I was accident- 
 ally informed in I>ondon that you were in town, I in- 
 stantly hastened to your lodgings ; but it was only the 
 shadow of a dream, for you were no where to be found. 
 Wherefore, as soon as you can do it without any incon- 
 venience to yourself, I beseech you to take up your 
 quarters where we may at least be able occasionally to 
 
 visit one another ; for I hope that you would not be a 
 different neighbour to us in the country than you are 
 in town. But this is as it pleases God. I have much 
 to say to you concerning myself and my studies, but I 
 would rather do it when we meet, and as to-morrow I 
 am about to return into the country, and am busy in 
 making preparations for my journey, I have but just 
 time to scribble this. Adieu. 
 London, Sept. 7, 1637. 
 
 VII. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Most of my other friends think it enough to give 
 me one farewell in their letters, but I see why you do 
 it so often ; for you give me to understand that your 
 medical authority is now added to the potency, and 
 subservient to the completion, of those general expres- 
 sions of good-will which are nothing but words and 
 air. You wish me my health six hundred times, in as 
 great a quantity as I can wish, as I am able to bear, or 
 even more than this. Truly, you should be appointed 
 butler to the house of Health, whose stores you so la- 
 vishly bestow ; or at least Health should become your 
 parasite, since you so lord it over her, and command 
 her at your pleasure. I send you therefore my con- 
 gratulations and my thanks, both on account of your 
 friendship and your skill. I was long kept waiting in 
 expectation of a letter from you, which you had en- 
 gaged to write ; but when no letter came my old re- 
 gard for you suffered not, I can assure you, the smallest 
 diminution, for I had supposed that the same apology 
 for remissness, which you had employed in the begin- 
 ning of our correspondence, you would again employ. 
 This was a supposition agreeable to truth and to the 
 intimacy between us. For I do not think that true 
 friendship consists in the frequency of letters or in pro- 
 fessions of regard, which may be counterfeited ; but it 
 is so deeply rooted in the heart and aflections, as to 
 support itself against the rudest blast ; and when it 
 originates in sincerity and virtue, it may remain 
 through life without suspicion and without blame, l 
 even when there is no longer any reciprocal interchange 
 of kindnesses. For the cherishing aliment of a friend- 
 ship such as this, there is not so much need of letters as 
 of a lively recollection of each other's virtues. And 
 though you have not written, you have something that 
 may supply the omission : your probity writes to me in 
 your stead ; it is a letter ready written on the inner- 
 most membrane of the heart ; the simplicity of your 
 manners, and the rectitude of your principles, serve as 
 correspondents in your place ; your genius, which is 
 above the common level, writes, and serves in a still 
 greater degree to endear you to me. But now you 
 have got possession of this despotic citadel of medicine, 
 do not alarm me with the menace of being obliged to 
 repay those six hundred healths which you have be- 
 stowed, if I should, which God forbid, ever forfeit your 
 friendship. Remove that formidable battery which you 
 seem to have ])laced upon my breast to keep off all 
 
FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 963 
 
 sickness but what comes by your permission. But that 
 you may not indulge any excess of menace I must in- 
 form you, that I cannot help loving you such as you 
 are ; for whatever the Deity may have bestowed upon 
 me in other respects, he has certainly inspired me, if 
 any ever were inspired, with a passion for the good 
 and fair. Nor did Ceres, according to the fable, ever^ 
 seek her daughter Proserpine with such unceasing- so- 
 licitude as I have sought this rov KaXov iSkav, this per- 
 fect model of the beautiful in all the forms and appear- 
 ances of things (noWai yap (lopifiat tiov ^atfioviujv, many 
 are the forms of the divinities.) I am wont day and 
 night to continue my search ; and I follow in the way 
 in which you go before. Hence, I feel an irresistible 
 impulse to cultivate the friendship of him, who, des- 
 pising- the prejudiced and false conceptions of the vul- 
 gar, dares to think, to speak, and to be that which the 
 highest wisdom has in every age taught to be the best. 
 But if my disposition or my destiny were such that I 
 could without any conflict or any toil emerge to the 
 highest pitch of distinction and of praise; there would 
 nevertheless be no prohibition, either human or divine, 
 against my constantly cherishing and revering those, 
 who have either obtained the same degree of glory, or 
 arc successfully labouring to obtain it. But now I am 
 sure that you wish me to gratify your curiosity, and to 
 let you know what I have been doing or am meditat- 
 ing to do. Hear me, my Deodati, and suffer me for a 
 moment to speak without blushing in a more lofty 
 strain. Do j'ou ask what I ati meditating? by the 
 help of heaven, an immortality of fame. But what 
 am I doing ? Trrcpotpvio, I am letting my wings grow 
 and preparing to fly ; but my Pegasus has not yet 
 feathers enough to soar aloft in the fields of air. I 
 will now tell you seriously what I design ; to take 
 chambers in one of the inns of court, where I may have 
 the benefit of a pleasant and shady walk ; and where 
 with a few associates I may enjoy more comfort when 
 I choose to stay at home, and have a more elegant 
 society when I choose to go abroad. In my present 
 situation, you know in what obscurity I am buried, 
 and to what inconveniencies I am exposed. You shall 
 likewise have some information respecting my studies. 
 I went through the perusal of the Greek authors to 
 the time when they ceased to be Greeks; I was long 
 employed in unravelling the obscure history of the 
 Italians under the Lombards, the Franks, and Ger- 
 mans, to the time when they received their liberty from 
 Rodolphus king of Germany. From that time it will 
 be better to read separately the particular transactions 
 of each state. But how are you employed ? How long 
 will you attend to your domestic ties and forget your 
 city connections ? But unless this novercal hostility 
 be more inveterate than that of the Dacian or Sarma- 
 tian, you will feel it a duty to visit me in my winter 
 quarters. In the mean time, if you can do it without 
 inconvenience, I will thank you to send me Justinian 
 the historian of Venice. I will either keep it carefully 
 till your arrival, or, if you had rather, will soon send 
 it back again. Adieu. 
 London, Sept. 23, 1637. 
 
 vni. 
 
 To Beneditto Bonomattai, a Florentine. 
 
 I AM glad to hear, my dear Bonomattai, that you 
 are prepa.-ing new institutes of your native language, 
 and have just brought the work to a conclusion. The 
 way to fame which you have chosen is the same as 
 that which some persons of the firet genius have em- 
 braced ; and your fellow-citizens seem ardently to ex- 
 pect that you will either illustrate or amplify, or at 
 least polish and methodize, the labours of your prede- 
 cessors. By such a work you will lay your country- 
 men under no common obligation, which they will be 
 ungrateful if they do not acknowledge. For I hold 
 him to deserve the highest praise who fixes the prin- 
 ciples and forms the manners of a state, and makes 
 the wisdom of his administration conspicuous both at 
 home and abroad. But I assign the second place to 
 him, who endeavoure by precepts and by rules to per- 
 petuate that style and idiom of speech and composition 
 which have flourished in the purest periods of the lan- 
 guage, and who, as it were, throws up such a trench 
 around it, that people may be prevented from going 
 beyond the boundary almost by the terrors of a Romu- 
 lean prohibition. If we compare the benefits which 
 each of tbese confer, wc shall find that the former alone 
 can render the intercourse of the citizens just and con- 
 scientious, but that the last gives that gentility, that 
 elegance, that refinement, which arc next to be desired. 
 The one inspires lofty courage and intrepid ardour 
 against the invasion of an enemy ; the other exerts 
 himself to annihilate that barbarism which commits 
 more extensive ravages on the minds of men, which is 
 the intestine enemy of genius and literature, by the 
 taste which he inspires, and the good authors which 
 he causes to be read. Nor do I think it a matter of 
 little moment whether the language of a people be 
 vitiated or refined, whether the popular idiom be eiTO- 
 neous or correct. This consideration was more than 
 once found salutary at Athens. It is the opinion of 
 Plato, that changes in the dress and habits of the citi- 
 zens portend great commotions and changes in the 
 state ; and I am inclined to believe, that when the 
 language in common use in any country becomes irre- 
 gular and depraved, it is followed by their ruin or their 
 degradation. For what do terms used without skill 
 or meaning, which are at once corrupt and misapplied, 
 denote, but a people listless, supine, and ripe for servi- 
 tude ? On the contrary, we have never heard of any 
 people or state which has not flourished in some de- 
 gree of prosperity as long as their language has re- 
 tained its elegance and its purity. Hence, my Bene- 
 ditto, you may be induced to proceed in executing a 
 work so useful to your country, and may clearly see 
 what an honourable and permanent claim you wil' 
 have to the approbation and the gratitude of your 
 fellow-citizens. Thus much I have said, not to make 
 you acquainted with that of which you were igno- 
 rant, but because I was persuaded that yoa are more 
 
064 
 
 FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 intent ou serving your country than in considering' 
 tlie just title which you have to its remuneration. 
 I will now mention the favourable opportunity which 
 you have, if you wish to embrace it, of obliging fo- 
 reigners, among whom there is no one at all con- 
 spicuous for genius or for elegance who Joes not make 
 the Tuscan language his delight, and indeed con- 
 sider it as an essential part of education, particularly 
 if he be only slightly tinctured with the literature of 
 Greece or of Rome. I, who certainly have not merely 
 wetted the tip of my lips in the stream of those lan- 
 guages, but, in proportion to my years, have swal- 
 lowed the most copious draughts, can yet sometimes 
 retire with avidity and delight to feast on Dante, Pe- 
 trarch, and many others ; nor has Athens itself been 
 able to confine me to the transparent wave of its Ilis- 
 sus, nor ancient Rome to the banks of its Tiber, so as 
 to prevent my visiting with delight the stream of the 
 Amo, and the hills of Feesolte. A stranger from the 
 shores of the farthest ocean, I have now spent some 
 days among you, and am become quite enamoured of 
 your nation. Consider whether there were sufficient 
 reason for my preference, that you may more readily 
 remember what I so earnestly importune ; that you 
 would, for the sake of foreigners, add something to the 
 grammar which you have begun, and indeed almost 
 finished, concerning the right pronunciation of the lan- 
 guage, and made as easy as the nature of the subject 
 will admit. The other critics in your language seem 
 to this day to have had no other design than to satisfy 
 their own countrymen, without taking any concern 
 about any body else. Though I think that they would 
 have provided better for their own reputation and for 
 the glory of the Italian language, if they had delivered 
 their precepts in such a manner as if it was for the in- 
 terest of all men to learn their language. But, for all 
 them, we might think that you Italians wished to con- 
 fine your wisdom within the pomserium of the Alps. 
 This praise therefore, which no one has anticipated, 
 will be entirely yours immaculate and pure ; nor will 
 it be less so if you will be at the pains to point out who 
 may justly claim the second rank of fame after the re- 
 nowned chiefs of the Florentine literature; who excels 
 in the dignity of tragedy, or the festivity and elegance 
 of comedy; who has shown acuteness of remark or 
 depth of reflection in his epistles or dialogues ; to whom 
 belongs the grandeur of the historic style. Thus it 
 will be easy for the student to choose the best writers 
 in every department ; and if he wishes to extend his 
 researches farther, he will know which way to take. 
 Among the antients you will in this respect find Cicero 
 and Fabius deserving of your imitation ; but I know 
 not one of your own countrymen who does. But though 
 I think as often as I have mentioned this subject that 
 your courtesy and benignity have induced you to com- 
 ply with my request, I am unwilling that those quali- 
 ties should deprive you of the homage of a more polish- 
 ed and elaborate entreaty. For since your singular 
 modesty is so apt to depreciate your own performances ; 
 the dignity of the subject, and my respect for you, will 
 not suflfer mc to rate them below their worth. And it 
 
 is certainly just that lie who shows the greatest facility 
 in complying with a request should not receive the less 
 honour on account of his compliance. On this occasion 
 I have employed the Latin rather than your own lan- 
 guage, that I might in Latin confess my imperfect ac- 
 quaintance with that language which I wish you by 
 your precepts to embellish and adorn. And I hoped 
 that if I invoked the venerable Latian mother, hoary 
 with years, and crowned with the respect of ages, to 
 plead the cause of her daughter, I should give to my 
 request a force and authority which nothing could re- 
 sist. Adieu. 
 
 Florence, Sept. 10, 1638, 
 
 IX. 
 
 To Luke Holstein, in the Vatican at Rome. 
 
 Though in my passage through Italy, many per- 
 sons have honoured me with singular and memorable 
 proofs of their civility and friendship, yet on so short 
 an acquaintance I know not whether I can truly say 
 that any one ever gave me stronger marks of his regard 
 than yourself. For, when I went to visit you in the 
 Vatican, though I was not at all known to you, ex- 
 cept perhaps from the incidental mention of Alexander 
 Cherion, you received me with the utmost affability 
 and kindness. You afterwards obligingly admitted 
 me into tlie Museum, you permitted me to see the pre- 
 cious repository of literature, and many Greek MSS. 
 adorned with your own observations ; some of which 
 have never yet seen the light, but seem, like the spirits 
 in Virgil, 
 
 In a green valley the pent spirits lay. 
 Impatient to behold the realms of day, 
 
 to demand the parturient labours of the press. Some 
 of them you have already published, which are gree- 
 dily received by the learned. You presented me with 
 copies of these on my departure. And I cannot but 
 impute it to your kind mention of me to the noble Car- 
 dinal Francisco Barberino, that at a grand musical en- 
 tertainment which he gave, he waited for me at the 
 door, sought me out among the crowd, took me by the 
 hand, and introduced me into the palace with every 
 mark of the most flattering distinction. When I went 
 the next day to render him my acknowledgments for 
 this his gracious condescension, it was you who ob- 
 tained me an interview, in which I experienced a de- 
 gree of civility and kindness greater than I had any 
 reason to expect from a person of his high dignity and 
 character. I know not, most learned Holstein, whe- 
 ther I am the only Englishman to whom you have 
 shown so much friendship and regard, or whether you 
 are led to show the same to all my countrymen, from a 
 recollection of the three years which you passed at the 
 university of Oxford. If this be the case, you gener- 
 ously pay to our dear England the fees of her edu- 
 cation ; and you both deserve the grateful acknow- 
 ledgments of each individual in particular, and of our 
 
FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 955 
 
 country in greneral. But if this distinction was shown 
 exclusively to me, if you selected me as worthy of your 
 friendship, I congratulate myself on your preference, 
 while I think your candour <rreater than my desert. I 
 strenuously urged my friends, according- to your instruc- 
 tions, to inspect the Codex Mediceus ; though they 
 have at present but little hope of being able to do it. 
 For in that library nothing can be transcribed, nor 
 even a pen put to paper, without permission being pre- 
 viously obtained ; but they say that there is at Rome 
 one John Baptista Donio, who is daily expected at 
 Florence, where he has been invited to read lectures on 
 the Greek language, and by whom you may easily 
 obtain the object of your wishes. It would indeed 
 have been far more grateful to me if I could have 
 been at all instrumental in promoting those honour- 
 able and illustrious pursuits in which you are en- 
 gaged; and which it behoves all men, on all occa- 
 sions and in all circumstances, to promote. I add 
 that you will lay me under new obligations if you 
 will express my warmest acknowledgments, and my 
 most respectful compliments, to the most noble Car- 
 dinal, whose great virtues and whose honest zeal, so 
 favourable to the encouragement of all the liberal 
 arts, are the constant objects of my admiration. Nor 
 can I look without reverence on that mild, and if I 
 may so speak, that lowly, loftiness of mind, which is 
 exalted by its own humiliation, and to which we may 
 apply a verse in the Ceres of Callimachus, 
 
 I'Ofiara ftav ^^p^w Kt<l>a\aSt oi anrtT dXvfiirw. 
 On th' earth he treads, but to the heavens he soars. 
 
 His conduct may serve to shew other princes that a 
 forbidding superciliousness and a dazzling parade of 
 power are quite incompatible with real magnanimity. 
 Nor do I think that while he lives any one will regret 
 the loss of the Esti, the Farnese, or the Medici, who 
 formerly espoused with so much zeal the patronage of 
 literature. Adieu, most learned Holstein, and if you 
 think me worthy of the honour, rank me, F beseech you, 
 for the future, wherever I may be, among those who 
 are most attached to you and to the studies in which 
 you are engaged. 
 
 Florence, March 30, 1639. 
 
 '■-'-■ ( rid* A-ui^-**^ 'J 
 To Car0Lo D^iJoDATi, a Florentijie Noble. 
 
 ^K •• • •■ - i ,-./' .^a1'. 
 
 I DERIVED, my dear Charles, from the unexpected 
 receipt of your letter, a pleasure greater than I can ex- 
 press ; but of which you may have some notion from 
 the pain with which it was attended; and without a 
 mixture of which hardly any great pleasure is con- 
 ceded to mankind. While I was perusing the first 
 lines of 3ours, in which the elegance of expression 
 seems to contest the palm with the tenderness of friend- 
 ship, I felt nothing but an unmingled purity of joy, 
 particularly when I found you labouring to make 
 friendship win the prize. But as soon as I came to 
 
 that passage in which you tell me that you had previ- 
 ously sent me three letters which must have been lost, 
 then the simplicity of my joy began to be imbued with 
 grief and agitated with regret. But something more 
 disastrous soon appears. It is often a subject of sor- 
 rowful reflection to me, that those with whom I have 
 been either fortuitously or legally associated by conti- 
 guity of place, or some tie of little moment, are con- 
 tinually at hand to infest my home, to stun me with 
 their noise and waste me with vexation, while those 
 who are endeared to me by the closest sympathy of 
 manners, of tastes and pursuits, are almost all withheld 
 from my embrace either by death or an insuperable 
 distance of place ; and have for the most part been so 
 rapidly hurried from my sight, that my prospects seem 
 continually solitary, and my heart perpetually desolate. 
 With a lively pleasure do I read your anxious enquiries 
 about my health since I left Florence, and your unin- 
 tcrmittcd recollections of our intimacy. Those recol- 
 lections have been reciprocal, though I thought that 
 they had been cherished by me alone. I would not 
 conceal from you that my departure excited in me the 
 most poignant sensations of uneasiness, which revive 
 with increased force as often as I recollect that I left so 
 many companions so engaging, and so many friends 
 so kind, collected in one city ; which is, alas, so far re- 
 moved ; which imperious circumstances compelled me 
 to quit against my inclination, but which was and is to 
 me most dear. I appeal to the tomb of Damon, which 
 I shall ever cherish and revere ; his death occasioned 
 the most bitter sorrow and regret, which I could find 
 no more easy way to mitigate than by recalling the 
 memory of those times, when, with those persons, and 
 particularly with you, I tasted bliss without alloy. 
 This you would have known long since, if you received 
 my poem on that occasion. I had it carefully sent, 
 that whatever poetical merit it might possess, the few 
 verses which are included in the manner of an emblem 
 might afford no doubtful proof of my love for you. I 
 thought that by this means I should entice you or some 
 other persons to write ; for if I wrote first it seemed ne- 
 cessary that I should write to all, as if I wrote to one 
 exclusively I feared that I should give offence to the 
 rest; since I hope that many are still left who might 
 justly claim the performance of this duty. But you, 
 by first addressing me in a manner so truly friendly, 
 and by a triple repetition of epistolary kindness, have 
 laid me under an obligation to write to you, and have 
 exonerated me from the censure of those to whom I do 
 not write. Though I must confess that I found other 
 reasons for silence in these convulsions which my 
 country has experienced since my return home, which 
 necessarily diverted my attention from the prosecution 
 of my studies to the preservation of my property and 
 my life. For can you imagine that I could have lei- 
 sure to taste the sweets of literary ease while so many 
 battles were fought, so much blood shed, and while so 
 much ravage prevailed among my fellow-citizens ? 
 But even in the midst of this tempestuous period, I 
 have published several works in my native language, 
 which if they had not been writteain English, I should 
 
968 
 
 FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 bare pleasure in sendinsf to you, whose judgment I so 
 much revere. My Latin poems I will soon send as 
 you desire ; and this I should have donelonaf ajjo with- 
 out being' desired, if I had not suspected that some 
 rather harsh expressions which (hey containe<l against 
 tbe Roman pontiff would have rendered them less 
 pleasing to your ears. Now I request whenever I 
 mention the rites of your religion in my own waj', that 
 you will prevail on your friends (for I am under no ap- 
 prehensions from you) to shew me tbe same indulgence 
 not only which they did to Aligerius and to Petrarch on 
 a similar occasion, but which you did formerly with 
 such singular benevolence to the freedom of my con- 
 Tersation on topics of religion. With pleasure I perused 
 your description of the funeral of king Louis. I do 
 not acknowledge the inspiration of that vulgar and 
 mercenary Mercury whom you jocosely profess to wor- 
 ship, but of that Mercury who excels in eloquence, who 
 is dear to the Muses and the patron of men of genius. 
 It remains for us to hit upon some method by which 
 our correspondence may in future be carried on with 
 greater regularity and fewer interruptions. This does 
 not seem very difficult, when we have so many mer- 
 chants who trade so extensively with us ; whose a^'ents 
 pass to and fro every week, and whose ships are sailing 
 backward and forward almost as often. In the mean 
 time, my dear Charles, farewell, and present my kind 
 wishes to Cultellino, Francisco, Trescobaldo, Malta- 
 testo, the younger Clemantillo, and every other in- 
 quiring friend, and to all the members of the Gaddian 
 academy. Adieu. 
 
 London, April 21 , 1647. 
 
 XI. 
 
 Xo Hermann Milles, Secretary to the Count of 01- 
 denburgh. 
 
 Before I return any answer, most noble Hermann, 
 to your letter which I received on the 17th of Decem- 
 ber, I will first explain the reasons why I did not write 
 before, that you may not impute to me the blame 
 of a silence which basso long continued. First, the 
 delay was occasioned by ill-health, whose hostilities I 
 have now almost perpetually to combat; next, by a 
 cause of ill-health, a necessary and sudden removal to 
 another house, which had accidentally begun to take 
 place on the day that your letter arrived ; and lastly, 
 by shame that I had no intelligence concerning your 
 business, which I thought that it would be agreeable to 
 communicate. For the day before yesterday when I ac- 
 cidentally met the Lord Frost, and anxiously enquired 
 of him whether any answer to you had been resolved 
 on ? (for the state of my health often kept me from the 
 council ;) he replied not without emotion, that nothing 
 had been resolved on, and that he could make no pro- 
 gress in expediting the business. I thought it therefore 
 better to be silent for a time, than immediately to write 
 what I knew that it would be irksome for you to hear, 
 but rather to wait till I should have the pleasure to 
 
 communicate what I was sure it would give you so 
 much pleasure to know. This I hope that I have to- 
 day accomplished ; for when I had more than once 
 reminded the president of your business, he replied that 
 to-morrow they would discuss what answer they should 
 give. If I am the first, as I endeavoured, to give you 
 intelligence of this event, I think that it will contribute 
 greatly to your satisfaction, and will serve as a speci- 
 men of my zeal for the promotion of your interests. 
 Westminster. 
 
 XII. 
 
 To the renowned Leonard Philara, the Athenian. 
 
 I WAS in some measure made acquainted, most ac- 
 complished Philara, with your good will towards me, 
 and with your favourable opinion of my defence of the 
 people of England, by your letters to the Lord Auger, 
 a person so renowned for his singular integrity in ex- 
 ecuting the embassies of the republic. I then received 
 your compliments with your picture and an eulogy 
 worthy of your virtues ; and, lastly, a letter full of ci- 
 vility and kindness. I who am not wont to despise 
 the genius of the German, the Dane, and Swede, could 
 not but set the highest, value on your applause, wlio 
 were born at Athens itself, and who after having hap- 
 pily finished your studies in Italy, obtained the most 
 splendid distinctions and the highest honours. For if 
 Alexander the Great, when waging war in the distant 
 East, declared that he encountered so many dangers 
 and so many trials for the sake of having his praises 
 celebrated by the Athenians, ought not I to congratu- 
 late myself on receiving the praises of a man in whom 
 alone the talents and the virtues of the antient Atheni- 
 ans seem to recover their freshness and their strengtii 
 after so long an interval of corruption and decay. To 
 the writings of those illustrious men which your city 
 has produced, in the perusal of which I have been oc- 
 cupied from my youth, it is with pleasure I confess that 
 I am indebted for all my proficiency in literature. Did 
 I possess their command of language and their force of 
 persuasion, I should feel the highest satisfaction in em- 
 ploying them to excite our armies and our fleets to de- 
 liver Greece, the parent of eloquence, from the despotism 
 of the Ottomans. Such is the enterprise in which you 
 seem to wish to implore my aid. And what did for- 
 merly men of the greatest courage and eloquence deem 
 more noble or more glorious, than by their orations oi 
 their valour to assert the liberty and independence ol 
 the Greeks ? But we ought besides to attempt, what ia 
 I think, of the greatest moment, to inflame the preseni 
 Greeks with an ardent desire to emulate the virtue, th( 
 industry, the patience of their antient progenitors ; au< 
 this we cannot hope to see effected by any one bul 
 yourself, and for which you seem adapted by (he spleo 
 dour of your patriotism, combined with so much dis 
 cretion, so much skill in war, and such an unquench- 
 able thirst for the recovery of your antient liberty. Noi; 
 do I think that the Greeks would be wanting to thci 
 
 cm" 
 
 1 
 
FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 957 
 
 selves, nor that any other people would be wanting to 
 the Greeks. Adieu. 
 London, Jan. 1652. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 To Richard Heth. 
 
 If I were able, my excellent friend, to render you 
 my service in the promotion of your studies, which at 
 best could have been but very small, I rejoice on more 
 accounts than one, that that service, though so long 
 unknown, was bestowed on so fruitful and so genial 
 1. soil, which has produced au honest pastor to the 
 ihurch, a good citizen to our country, and to me a 
 most acceptable friend. Of this I am well aware, 
 not only from the general habits of your life, but from 
 the justness of your religious and political opinions, 
 ind particularly from the extraordinary ardour oi 
 yowr gratitude, which no absence, no change of cir- 
 cumstances, or lapse of time, can either extinguish or 
 impair. Nor is it possible, till you have made a more 
 ;hau ordinary progress in virtue, in piety, and the 
 mj)rovcment of the mind and heart, to feel so much 
 gratitude towards those who have in the least assisted 
 pu in the acquisition. Wherefore, my pupil, a name 
 ivhich with your leave I will employ, be assured that 
 yrou are among the first objects of my regard ; nor 
 A'ould any thing be more agreeable to me, if your cir- 
 cumstances permit as much as your inclination, than to 
 bave you take up your abode somewhere in my neigh- 
 bourhood, where we may often see each other, and mu- 
 :ually profit by the reciprocations of kindness and of 
 literature. But this must be as God pleases, and as 
 you think best. Your future communications may, if 
 ^ou please, be in our own language, lest (though you 
 irc no mean proficient in Latin composition) the labour 
 )f writing should make each of us more averse to write ; 
 ind that we may freely disclose every sensation of our 
 bcarts without being impeded by the shackles of a 
 foreign language. You may safely entrust the care of 
 j'our letters to any servant of that family which you 
 [nention. Adieu. 
 
 Westminster, December 13, 1652. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 To Henry Oldenburgh, AuUc Counsellor to the 
 Senate of Bremen. 
 
 I RECEIVED your former letters, most accomplished 
 dr, at the moment when your clerk was at the point of 
 setting out on his return, so that I had no power of re- 
 turning you an answer at that time. This some un- 
 expected engagements concurred to delay, or I should 
 not have sent you my Defence without any compli- 
 ment or apology ; and I have since received another 
 letter from you in which you return me more ample ac- 
 knowledgments than the present deserved. And I 
 
 had more than once an intention of substituting our 
 English for your Latin, that you, who have studied our 
 language with more accuracy and success than any 
 foreigner with whom I am acquainted, might lose no 
 opportunity of writing it, which I think that you would 
 do with equal elegance and correctness. But in this 
 respect you shall act as you feel inclined. With re- 
 spect to the subject of your letter you are clearly of my 
 opinion, that that cry to heaven could not have been 
 audible by any human being, which only serves the 
 more palpably to shew the effrontery of him who 
 affirms with so much audacity that he heard it. Who 
 he was you have caused a doubt, though long since in 
 some conversations which we had on the subject just 
 after your return from Holland, you seemed to have no 
 doubt but that More was the author to whom the com- 
 position was in those parts unanimously ascribed. If 
 you have received any more authentic information on 
 this subject, I wish that you would acquaint me with it. 
 With respect to the mode of handling the subject I 
 would willingly agree with ^ou, and what could more 
 readily persuade me to do it than the unfeigned appro- 
 bation of persons so zealously attached to me as you 
 are ; if my health, and the deprivation of my sight, 
 which is more grievous than all the infirmities of age, 
 or of the cries of these impostors, will permit, I shall 
 readily be led to engage in other undertakings, though 
 I know not whether they can be more noble or more 
 useful ; for what can be more noble or more useful than 
 to vindicate the liberty of man ? An inactive indolence 
 was never my delight, but this unexpected contest with 
 the enemies of liberty has involuntarily withdrawn mj 
 attention from very different and more pleasurable pur- 
 suits. What I have done, and which I was under an 
 obligation to do, I feel no reason to regret, and I am 
 far from thinking, as you seem to suppose, that I have 
 laboured in vain. But more on this at another oppor- 
 tunity. At present adieu, most learned sir, and num- 
 ber me among your friends. 
 Westminster, July 6, 1654. 
 
 XV. 
 
 To Leonard Philara, the Athenian. 
 
 I have always been devotedly attached to the lite- 
 rature of Greece, and particularly to that of your 
 Athens ; and have never ceased to cherish the persua- 
 sion that that city would one day make me ample re- 
 compense for the warmth of my regard. The antient 
 genius of your renowned country has favoured the com- 
 pletion of my prophecy in presenting me with your 
 friendship and esteem. Though I was known to you 
 only by my writings, and we were removed to such a 
 distance from each other, you most courteously ad- 
 dressed me by letter; and when you unexpectedly 
 came to London, and saw me who could no longer see, 
 my affliction, which causes none to regard me with 
 greater admiration, and perhaps many even with feel- 
 ings of contempt, excited your tcnderest sympathy and 
 
958 
 
 FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 concern. You would not suffer me to abandon the hope 
 of recoveringf raj sight, and informed me that you had 
 an intimate friend at Paris, Doctor Thevenot, who was 
 particularly celebrated in disorders of the eyes, whom 
 3'ou would consult about mine, if I would enable you to 
 lay before him the causes and symptoms of the com- 
 plaint. I will do what you desire, lest I should seem 
 to reject that aid which perhaps may be offered me by 
 heaven. It is now, I think, about ten years since I 
 perceived my vision to grow weak and dull ; and, at 
 the same time, I was troubled with pain in my kidneys 
 and bowels, accompanied with flatulency. In the morn- 
 ing, if I beg-an to read, as was my custom, my eyes in- 
 stantly ached intensely, but were refreshed after a little 
 corporeal exercise. The candle which I looked at, seem- 
 ed as it were encircled with a rainbow. Not long after 
 the sight in the left part of the left eye (which I lost 
 some years before the other) became quite obscured ; 
 and prevented me from discerning any object on that 
 side. The sight in my other eye has now been gradu- 
 ally and sensibly vanishing away for about three 
 years; some months before it had entirely perished, 
 though I stood motionless, every thing which I looked 
 at seemed in motion to and fro. A stiff cloudy vapour 
 seemed to have settled on my forehead and temples, 
 which usually occasions a sort of somnolent pressure 
 upon my eyes, and particularly from dinner till the 
 evening. So that I often recollect what is said of the 
 poet Phineas in the Argonautics ; 
 
 A stupor deep his cloudy t9inples bound. 
 
 And when he walk'd he seem'd as whirling round. 
 
 Or in a feeble transe lie speechless lay. 
 
 I ought not to omit that, while I had any sight left, as 
 soon as I lay down on my bed and turned on either 
 side, a flood of light used to gush from my closed eye- 
 lids. Then, as my sight became daily more impaired, 
 the colours became more faint, and were emitted with 
 a certain inward crackling sound ; but at present every 
 species of illumination being, as it were, extinguished, 
 there is diffused around me nothing but darkness, or 
 darkness mingled and streaked with an ashy brown. 
 Yet the darkness in which I am perpetually immersed, 
 seems always, both by night and day, to approach 
 nearer to white than black, and when the eye is roll- 
 ing in its socket, it admits a little particle of light as 
 through a chink. And though your physician may 
 kindle a small ray of hope, yet I make up my mind to 
 the malady as quite incurable ; and I often reflect, 
 that as the wise man admonishes, days of darkness 
 are destined to each of us, the darkness which I ex- 
 perience, less oppressive than that of the tomb, is, 
 owing to the singular goodness of the Deity, passed 
 amid the pursuits of literature and the cheering salu- 
 tations of friendship. But if, as is written, man shall 
 not live by bread alone, but by every word that pro- 
 ceedetb from the mouth of God, why may not any one 
 acquiesce in the privation of his sight, when God has 
 so amply furnished his mind and his conscience with 
 eyes. While be so tenderly provides for me, while be 
 
 ii 
 
 so graciously leads me by the hand and conducts me on 
 the way, I will, since it is his pleasure, rather rejoice 
 than repine at being blind. And, my dear Philara, 
 whatever may be the event, I wish you adieu with no 
 less courage and composure than if I )iad the eyes 
 of a lynx. 
 
 Westminster, September 28, 16.>1. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 To Leo ofAizema. 
 
 It is with great pleasure I find that you still retain 
 the same regard for me which you indicated while 
 among us. With respect to the book concerning di- 
 vorce, which you say that you had engaged sonic one 
 to turn into Dutch, I would rather that you had en- 
 gaged him to turn it into Latin. For I have already 
 experienced how the vulgar are wont to receive opi- 
 nions which are not agreeable to vulgar prejudice. 
 I formerly wrote three treatises on this subject ; one 
 in two books, in which the doctrine of divorce is dif- 
 fusely discussed ; another which is entitled Tetrachor- 
 don, in which the four principal passages in scripture 
 relative to the doctrine are explained ; a third, Colas- 
 terion, which contains an answer to some vulgar scio- 
 list. I know not which of these treatises or which 
 edition you have engaged him to translate. The first 
 treatise has been twice published, and the second 
 edition is much enlarged. If you have not already 
 received this information, or wish me to send you the , 
 more correct edition, or the other treatises, I shall do , 
 it immediately, and with pleasure. For I do not wish ' 
 at present that they should receive any alterations or 
 additions. If you persist in your present purpose, I 
 wish you a faithful translator and every success. 
 
 Westminster, Feb. 5, 1654. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 To EzECHiEL Spanheim, of Geneva. 
 
 I KNOW not how it happened that your letters were 
 not delivered to me for three months after they were 
 written. I hope that mine will have a more expe- 
 ditious conveyance : for, owing to various engage- 
 ments, I have put off writing from day to day till I 
 perceive that almost another three months have elapsed. 
 But I would not wish you to suppose that my regard 
 for you has experienced any diminution; but that it 
 has rather encreased in proportion as I have more fre- 
 quently thought of discharging this epistolary debt. 
 The tardy performance of this duty seems to admit of 
 this excuse, that when it is performed af^er so long a 
 lapse of time it is only a more clear confession that it 
 was due. You are quite right in the supposition that 
 I shall not be surprised at receiving the saliiUitions 
 of a foreigner, and you may be assured that it is my 
 maxim, to consider and to treat no good man as a stran- 
 
 i 
 
FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 959 
 
 ger; that you are such I am well persuaded, both be- 
 cause you are the son of a father highly celebrated for 
 his erudition and his piety ; and because all good men 
 think you good ; and lastly, because you hate the bad. 
 With such pereons since it has also been my lot to be 
 at war, Calandrinus very obligingly signified to you, 
 that it would be highly grateful to me if you would 
 lend me your assistance against our common enemy. 
 That you have kindly done in your present letter, of 
 which I have taken the liberty, without mentioning 
 the author's name, to insert a part in my Defence. This 
 work I will send you as soon as possible after the pub- 
 lication ; in the n>ean time do you direct your letters to 
 me under cover to Turrettin a Genoese, living at Lon- 
 don, and througli whom we may conveniently carry 
 on our correspondence. Be assured that you rank high 
 in my esteem, and that I wish for nothing more than 
 lyour regard. 
 j Westminster, March 24, 1654. 
 
 i 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 To Henry Oldenburgh, Aulic Counsellor to the Se- 
 nate of Bremen. 
 
 Your letters which young Ranley brought, found 
 me so much employed that I am compelled to be more 
 brief than I could wish. You have most faithfully ful- 
 filled those promises to write which you made me when 
 you went away. No honest man could discharge his 
 lebts with more rigid punctuality. I congratulate you 
 )n your retirement, because it gives pleasure to you 
 hough it is a loss to me ; and I admire that felicity of 
 fenius, which can so readily leave the factions or the 
 liversions of the city for contemplations tlie most serious 
 md sublime. I see not what advantage you can have in 
 hat retirement except in an access to a multitude of 
 >ooks ; the associates in study whom you have found 
 here, were I believe rather made students by their own 
 atural inclinations, than by the discipline of the place. 
 But perhaps I am less partial to the place because it de- 
 ains you, whose absence I regret. You rightly observe 
 hat there are too many there who pollute all learning, 
 ivine and human, by their frivolous subtleties and bar- 
 en disputations ; and who seem to do nothing to de- 
 erve the salary which they receive. But you are not 
 unwise. Those ancient records of the Sinese from 
 he period of the deluge, which you say are promised 
 y the Jesuit Martinius, are no doubt on account of 
 heir novelty expected with avidity ; but I do not see 
 rhat authority or support they can add to the books of 
 (loses. Our friend to whom you begged to be remem- 
 ered sends his compliments. Adieu. 
 
 Westminster, June 25, 1656. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 To the noble Youth Richard Jones. 
 
 As often as I have taken up the pen to answer your 
 ist letter some sudden interruptions have occurred to 
 
 prevent the completion of my purpose. I afterwards 
 heard that you had made an excursion to the adjoining 
 country. As your excellent mother is on the eve of 
 departing for Ireland, whose loss we have both no small 
 occasion to regret, and who has to me supplied the 
 place of every relative, will herself be the bearer of 
 these letters to you. You may rest assured of my re- 
 gard, and be persuaded that it will increase in propor- 
 tion as I see an increasing improvement in your heart 
 and mind. This, by the blessing of God, you have 
 solemnly pledged yourself to accomplish. I am pleased 
 with this fair promise of yourself, which I trust you 
 will never violate. Though you write that you are 
 pleased with Oxford, you will not induce me to believe 
 that Oxford has made you wiser or better. Of that I 
 require very different proof. I would not have you 
 lavish your admiration on the triumphs of the chiefs 
 whom you extol, and things of that nature in which 
 force is of most avail. For why need we wonder if 
 the wethers of our country are born with horns which 
 may batter down cities and towns? Do you learn to 
 estimate great characters, not by the quantity of their 
 animal strength, but by the habitual justice and tem- 
 perance of their conduct. Adieu, and make my best 
 respects to the accomplished Henry Oldenburgh, your 
 college chum. 
 
 Westminster, Sept. 21, 1656. 
 
 XX. 
 
 To the accomplished Youth Peter Heimbach. 
 
 You have abundantly discharged all the promises 
 which you made me, except that respecting your return, 
 which you promised should take place at farthest with- 
 in two months. But if my regard for you do not make 
 me err in my calculation, you have been absent almost 
 three months. You have done all that I desired respect- 
 ing the atlas, of which I wished to know the lowest 
 price. You say it is an hundred and thirty florins, 
 which I think is enough to purchase the mountain of 
 that name. But such is the present rage for typogra- 
 phical luxury, that the furniture of a library hardly 
 costs less than that of a villa. Paintings and engrav- 
 ings are of little use to me. While I roll my blind 
 eyes about the world, I fear lest I should seem to la- 
 ment the privation of sight in proportion to the exor- 
 bitance of the price for which I should have purchased 
 the book. Do you endeavour to learn in how many 
 volumes the entire work is contained ; and of the two 
 editions, whether that of Blaeu or Janson be the most 
 accurate and complete. This I hope rather to hear 
 verbally from yourself on your return, which will soon 
 take place, than to trouble you to give mc the informa- 
 tion by another letter. In the mean time adieu, and 
 return as soon as possible. 
 
 Westminster, Nov. 8, 1656. 
 
900 
 
 FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 To the accomplished Emeric Bigot. 
 
 I WAS highly gfratified bj the distinguished marks 
 of attention which you paid me on coming into Eng- 
 land, and this gratification is considerably increased 
 by your kind epistolary inquiries after so long an in- 
 terval. The favourable opinions of others might have 
 prompted your first visit, but you would hardly have 
 taken the trouble to write if you had not been prompt- 
 ed by your own judgment or benevolence. Hence I 
 think I may justly congratulate myself; many have 
 been celebrated for their compositions whose common 
 conversation and intercourse have betrayed no marks 
 of sublimity or genius. But, as far as possible, I will 
 endeavour to seem equal in thought and speech to what 
 I have well written, if I have written any thing well ; 
 and while I add to the dignity of what I have written, 
 I will, at the same time, derive from my writings a 
 greater splendour of reputation. Thus I shall not 
 seem to have borrowed the excellence of my literary 
 compositions from others so much as to have drawn it 
 pure and unmingled from the resources of my own 
 mind and the force of my own conceptions. It gives 
 me pleasure that you are convinced of the tranquillity 
 which I possess under this afflicting privation of sight, 
 as well as of the civility and kindness with which I 
 receive those who visit me from other countries. And 
 indeed why should I not submit with complacency to 
 this loss of sight, which seems only withdrawn from 
 the body without, to increase the sight of the mind 
 within. Hence books have not incurred ray resent- 
 ment, nor do I intermit the study of books, though 
 they have inflicted so heavy a penalty on me for 
 my attachment; the example of Telephus king of 
 Micia, who did not refuse to receive a cure from the 
 same weapon by which he had been wounded, admo- 
 nishes me not to be so morose. With respect to the 
 book which you have concerning the mode of holding 
 parliaments, I have taken care to have the passages 
 which were marked, either amended, or, if they were 
 doubtful, confirmed by a MS. of the illustrious Lord 
 Bradshaw ; and from one of the Cotton MSS. as you 
 will perceive from the paper which I have returned. 
 I sent some one to inquire of the keeper of the Re- 
 cords in the Tower, who is my intimate friend, whe- 
 ther the original of this work be extant in that collec- 
 tion, and he replied that there was no copy in the 
 repository. I am reciprocally obliged to you for your 
 assistance in procuring me books. My Byzantine 
 History wants Theophanis Chronographia Graec. Lat. 
 fol. Constant. Manassis Breviarium Historicum, and 
 Codini Excerpta de Antiquit. C. P. Graec. Lat. Anas- 
 tasii Bibliothecarii Hist, and Vitae Rom. Pontific. fol. 
 to which I beg you to add Michael Glycas and John 
 Sinnam, and the continuator of Anna Comnena, if 
 they have already issued from the same press. I need 
 not request you to purchase them as cheap as possible. 
 There is no occasion to do this to a man of your dis- 
 
 cretion, and the price of those books is fixed and 
 known to all. Dr. Stuppc has undertook to pay you 
 tljc money, and to get them conveyed in the most 
 commodious way. Accept my best wishes. Adieu. 
 Westminster, March 24, 1638. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 To the noble Youth Richard Jones. 
 
 I DID not receive your letter till some time after it 
 was written ; it lay fifteen days at your mother's. 
 With pleasure I perceive the emotions of your attach- 
 ment and your gratitude. I have never ceased to 
 promote the culture of your genius, and to justify the 
 favourable opinion which your excellent mother enter- 
 tains of me, and the confidence she places in me, by 
 benevolence the most pure and counsels the most sin- 
 cere. In that agreeable and healthy spot, to which 
 you have retired, there are books enough for the pur- 
 poses of academical education. If beauty of situation 
 contributed as much to improve the wit of the inha- 
 bitants as it docs to please the eye, the felicity of that 
 place would be complete. The library there is ricli in 
 books, but unless the minds of the students be improv- 
 ed by a more rational mode of education, it may better 
 deserve the name of a book-repository than of a li- 
 brary. You justly acknowledge that all these helps 
 to learning should be associated with a taste for lite- 
 rature, and with diligence in the cultivation. Take 
 care that I may never have occasion to blame you for 
 deviating from that opinion. And this you will 
 readily avoid if you will diligently obey the weighty 
 and friendly precepts of the accomplished Henry 
 Oldenburgh, your associate and friend. Adieu, my 
 dearest Richard, and let me incite you like another 
 Timothy to the practice of virtue and of piety, by the 
 example of your mother who is the best of women. 
 
 Westminster. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 To the illustrious Lord Henry de Bras. 
 
 I SEE, my Lord, that you, unlike most of our modern 
 youth who pass through foreign countries, wisely 
 travel, like the ancient philosophers, for the sake of 
 compleating your juvenile studies, and of picking up 
 knowledge wherever it may be found. Though as 
 often as I consider the excellence of what you write 
 you appear to me to have gone among foreigners not 
 so much for the sake of procuring erudition yourself, as 
 of imparting it to others, and rather to exchange than 
 to purchase a stock of literature. I wish it were as 
 easy for me in every way to promote the increase of 
 your knowledge and the improvement of your intellect, 
 as it is pleasing and flattering to me to have that as- 
 sistance requested by talents and genius like yours. I 
 have never attempted, and I should never dare to at- 
 
 i 
 
FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 961 
 
 tempt, to solve those difficulties as you request, which 
 seem to have cast a cloud over the writers of history for 
 so many ag-es. Of Sallust I will speak as you desire 
 without any hesitation or reserve. I prefer him to any 
 of the Latin historians ; which was also the general 
 opinion of the ancients. Your favorite Tacitus deserves 
 his meed of praise ; but his highest praise, in my opi- 
 nion, consists in his having imitated Sallust with all his 
 might. By my conversation with you on this subject 
 I seem, as far as I can guess from your letter, to have 
 inspired you with sentiments very similar to my own, 
 concerning that most energetic and animated writer. 
 As he in the beginning of his Catilinarian war asserted 
 that there was the greatest difficulty in historical com- 
 position, because the style should correspond with the 
 nature of the narrative, you ask me how a writer of his- 
 tory may best attain that excellence. My opinion is 
 that he who would describe actions and events in a 
 way suited to their dignity and importance, ougiit to 
 M'rite with a mind endued with a spirit, and enlarged 
 by an experience, as extensive as the actors in the scene, 
 that he may have a capacity properly to comprehend 
 and to estimate the most momentous aiTairs, and to re- 
 late them, when comprehended, with energy and dis- 
 tinctness, with purity and perspicuity of diction. The 
 decorations of style I do not greatly heed ; for I re- 
 quire an historian and not a rhetorician. I do not 
 want frequent interspersions of sentiment, or prolix 
 dissertations on transactions, which interrupt the series 
 of events, and cause the historian to entrench on the 
 office of the politician, who if in explaining counsels, 
 and explaining facts, he follows truth rather than his 
 own partialities and conjectures, excites the disgust or 
 the aversion of his party. I will add a remark of 
 Sallust, and which was one of the excellencies which 
 he himself commended in Cato, that he should be able 
 to say much in a few words ; a perfection w hich I 
 think that no one can attain without the most discrimi- 
 nating judgment and a peculiar degree of moderation. 
 There are many in whom you have not to regret cither 
 elegance of diction or copiousness of narrative, who have 
 yet united copiousness with brevity. And among these 
 Sallust is in my opinion the chief of the liatin writers. 
 Such are the virtues which I think that every historian 
 ought to possess who would proportion his style to the 
 facts which he records. But why do I mention this to 
 you .'' When such is your genius that you need not my 
 advice, and when such is your proficiency that if it 
 goes on increasing you will soon not be able to consult 
 any one more learned than yourself. To the increase 
 of that proficiency, though no exhortations can be ne- 
 cessary to stimulate your exertions, yet tliat I may not 
 seem entirely to frustrate your expectations, I will be- 
 seech you with all my affection, all my authority, and 
 all my zeal, to let nothing relax your diligence, or 
 chill the ardour of your pursuit. Adieu ! and may 
 you ever successfully labour in the path of wisdom 
 and of virtue. 
 
 Westminste7-, July 15, 1657. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 To Henry Oldenburg. 
 
 I REJOICE to hear of your safe arrival at Saumur, 
 which is, I believe, the place of your destination. You 
 cannot doubt of the pleasure which this iutellig-ence 
 h.as given me, when you consider how much I love 
 your virtues and approve the object of your journey. 
 I had much rather that some other person had heard iu 
 the boat of Charon than you on the waters of the Cha- 
 rent, that so infamous a priest was called in to instruct 
 so illustrious a church. For I much fear that he will 
 experience the most bitter disappointment who thinks 
 ever to get to heaven under the auspices of so pro- 
 fligate a guide. Alas ! for that church where the mi- 
 nisters endeavour to please only the ear; ministers 
 whom the church, if it desires a real reformation, ought 
 rather to expel than to choose. You have done right, 
 and not only according to my opinion but that of 
 Horace, by not communicating my writings to any but 
 to those who expressed a desire to see them. 
 
 Do not my works, importunately rude. 
 Disgrace by pert endeavours to intrude. 
 
 A learned friend of mine who past the last summer at 
 Saumur, informed me that that book was in great re- 
 quest in those parts. I sent him only one copy ; he 
 wrote back that the perusal of it had afforded the high- 
 est satisfaction to some of the learned there. If I had 
 not thought that I should oblige them I should have 
 spared this trouble to you and this expence to myself. 
 
 If my books chance to prove a weary load. 
 
 Rather than bear them further, leave them on the road. 
 
 I have, as you desired me, presented your kind wishes 
 to our friend Lawrence. There is nothing that I wish 
 more than that j'ou and your pupil may have your 
 health and return to us soon as possible after having 
 effected the object of your wishes. 
 Westminster, Aug. 1, 1657. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 To the noble Youth Richard Jones. 
 
 I REJOICE to hear that you accomplished so long a 
 journey with so little inconvenience, and what redounds 
 so much to your credit that, despising the luxuries of 
 Paris, you hastened with so much celerity where you 
 might enjoy the pleasures of literature and the conver- 
 sation of the learned. As long as you please you will 
 there be in a haven of security ; in other places you 
 will have to guard against the shoals of treachery and 
 the syrens' songs. I would not wish you to thirst too 
 much after the vintage of Saumur, but resolve to dilute 
 the Bacchanalian stream with more than a fifth part of 
 the chr^stal liquor of the Parnassian fount. But in 
 this respect, without my injunctions, you have an ex- 
 
962 
 
 FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 ccllent preceptor whom you cannot do better than 
 obey ; and by obeying whom you will give the highest 
 satisfaction to your excellent mother, and daily increase 
 in her regard and love. That you may have power to 
 do this you should daily ask help from above. Adieu, 
 and endeavour to return as much improved as possible, 
 both in virtue and erudition. This will give me more 
 than ordinary pleasure. 
 
 Westminster, Aug. 1, 1657. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 To the illustrious Lord Henry de Bras. 
 
 Some engagements, most noble Lord, have prevented 
 me from answering your letter so soon as I could wish. 
 I wished to have done it the sooner because I saw that 
 your letter, so full of erudition, left me less occasion 
 for sending you my advice (which I believe that you 
 desire more out of compliment to me than of any bene- 
 fit to yourself) than my congratulations. First, I con- 
 gratulate myself on having been so fortunate in cha- 
 racterising the merits of Sallust as to have excited you 
 to the assiduous perusal of that author, who is so full of 
 wisdom, and who maybe read with so much advantage. 
 Of him I will venture to assert what Quintilian said of 
 Cicero, that he who loves Sallust is no mean proficient 
 in historical composition. That precept of Aristotle in 
 the third book of his rhetoric, which you wish me to 
 explain, relates to the morality of the reflections and 
 the fidelity of the narrative. It appears to me to need 
 little comment, except that it should be appropriated 
 not to the compositions of rhetoric but of history. For 
 the offices of a rhetorician and an historian are as 
 different as the arts which they profess. Polybius, 
 Halicamassus, Diodorus, Cicero, Lucian, and many 
 others, whose works are interspersed with precepts on 
 the subject, will better teach you what are the duties 
 of an historian. I wish you every success in your tra- 
 vels and pursuits. Adieu. 
 
 Westminster, Dec. 16, 1657. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 To the accomplished Peter Heinbach. 
 
 I received your letter from the Hague the 18th 
 December, which, as your convenience seems to require, 
 I answer the same day on which it was received. In 
 this letter, after returning me thanks for some favours 
 which I am not conscious of having done, but which 
 my regard for you makes me wish to have been real, 
 you ask me to recommend you, through the medium of 
 D. Lawrence, to him who is appointed our agent in 
 Holland. This I grieve that I am not able to do, both 
 on account of my little familiarity with those who have 
 favours to bestow, since I have more pleasure in keep- 
 ing myself at home, and because I believe that he is 
 already on his voyage, and has in his company a i)er- 
 
 son in the office of secretary, which you are anxious to 
 obtain. But the bearer of this is on the eve of bis de- 
 parture. Adieu. 
 
 Westminster, Dec. 18, 1657. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 To John Badiaus, Minister of the Church of Orange. 
 
 Most excellent and reverend sir, I believe that our 
 friend Durius will take upon himself the blame of my 
 not writing to you sooner. After he had shewed mc 
 that paper which you wished me to read concerning 
 what I had done and suffered for the sake of the 
 gospel, I wrote this letter as soon as possible, intending 
 to send it by the first conveyance, since I was fearful 
 that you might consider a longer silence as neglect. 
 In the mean time I am under the greatest obligations 
 to your friend Molin, for procuring me the esteem of 
 'tlie virtuous in those parts by the zeal of his friendship 
 and the warmth of his praise ; and though I am not 
 ignorant that the contest in which I was engaged with 
 so great an adversary, that the celebrity of the subject 
 and the style of the composition had far and wide 
 diffused my fame, yet I think that I can be famous only 
 in proportion as I enjoy the approbation of the good. 
 I clearly see that you are of the same opinion ; so 
 many are the toils you have endured, so many are the 
 enemies whom you have provoked by your disinter- 
 ested zeal in defence of the christian doctrine ; and 
 you act with so much intrepidity as to shew, that 
 instead of courting the applause of bad men, you do 
 not fear to excite their most inveterate hate and their 
 most bitter maledictions. Oh happy are you whom, 
 out of so many thousands of the wise and learned, pro- 
 vidence has rescued from the very brink of destruction, 
 and selected to bear a distinguished and intrepid tes- 
 timony to the truth of the gospel. I have now rea- 
 sons for thinking that it was a singular mercy that I 
 did not write to you sooner ; for when I understood by 
 your letters that, threatened on all sides by the malice 
 of your enemies, you were looking round for a place of 
 refuge, to which you might fly in the last extremity 
 of danger, and that you had fixed on England as the 
 object of your wishes, I was considerably gratified, 
 because it gave me the hope of enjoying your com- 
 pany, and because I was happy to find you think so 
 favourably of my country ; but I lamented that, parti- 
 cularly owing to your ignorance of our language, 
 did not see any chance of a decent provision being' 
 made for you among us. The death of an old French 
 minister has since very opportunely occurred. Th« 
 principal persons of his congregation (from whom 1 
 have received this communication) anxiously wish, or 
 rather invite you to be chosen in his place ; they hav« 
 determined to pay the expences of your journey, ta 
 provide for you as large a salary as any of the FrencI 
 ministers receive, and to let you Avant nothing which 
 can contribute to the cheerful discharge of your eccle- 
 siastical function. Fly, I beseech you, as soon 
 
FAMILIAR EPISTLES. 
 
 963 
 
 possible, reverend sir, to those who are so desirous of 
 seeing- you, and where you will reap a harvest, not 
 rich indeed in temporal delights, but in numerous 
 opportunities to improve the hearts and to save the 
 souls of men ; and be assured that your arrival is 
 warmly desired by all good men. Adieu. 
 Wpstminsler, April 1, 1659. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 To Henry Oldenburg. 
 
 The indulgence which you beg for yourself, you 
 will rather have to bestow on me, whose turn, if I 
 remember, it was to write. My regard for you has, 
 believe me, suffered no diminution ; but either my 
 studies or my domestic cares, or perhaps my indolence 
 in writing, have made me guilty of this omission of 
 duty. I am, by God's help, as well as usual. I am 
 not willing, as you wish me, to compile a history of 
 our troubles ; for they seem rather to require oblivion 
 than commemoration ; nor have we so much need of a 
 person to compose a history of our troubles as happily 
 to settle them. I fear with you lest our civil dissen- 
 sions, or rather maniacal agitation, should expose us 
 to the attack of the lately confederated enemies of 
 religion and of liberty ; but those enemies could not 
 inflict a deeper wound upon religion than we ourselves 
 have long since done by our follies and our crimes. 
 But whatever disturbances kings and cardinals may 
 meditate and contrive, I trust that God will not suffer 
 the machinations and the violence of our enemies to 
 succeed according to their expectations. I pray that 
 the Protestant synod, which you say is soon to meet 
 at Leyden, may have a happy termination, which has 
 never yet happened to any synod that has ever met 
 before. But the termination of this might be called 
 happy, if it decreed nothing else but the expulsion of 
 More. As soon as my posthumous adversary shall 
 make his appearance I request you to give me the 
 earliest information. Adieu. 
 
 Westminster, Dec. 20, 1659. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 To the noble Youth Richard Jones. 
 
 You send me a most modest apology for not writing 
 sooner, when you might more justly have accused me 
 of the same offence ; so that I hardly know whether I 
 should choose that you had not committed the offence or 
 not written the apology. Never for a moment believe 
 that I measure your gratitude, if any gratitude be due 
 to me, by the assiduity of your epistolary communi- 
 cations. I shall perceive all the ardour of your grati- 
 tude, since you will extol the merit of my services, not 
 
 so much in the frequency of your letters as in the 
 excellence of your habits, and the degree of your 
 moral and intellectual proficiency. On the theatre of 
 the world on which you have entered, you have rightly 
 chosen the path of virtue ; but know there is a path 
 common to virtue and to vice ; and that it behoves 
 you to advance where the way divides. Leaving the 
 common track of pleasure and amusement, you should 
 cheerfully encounter the toils and the dangers of that 
 steep and rugged way which leads to the pinnacle of 
 virtue. This, believe me, you will accomplish with 
 more facility since you have got a guide of so much 
 integrity and skill. Adieu. 
 Westminster, Dec. 20, 1659. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 To the accomplished Peter Heinbach, Counsellor to 
 the Elector of Brandenburgh. 
 
 It is not strange as you write that report should 
 have induced you to believe, that I had perished among 
 the numbers of my countrymen who fell in a year so 
 fatally visited by the ravages of the plague. If that 
 rumour sprung as it seems out of a solicitude for my 
 safety, I consider it as no unpleasing indication of the 
 esteem in which I am held among you. But by the 
 goodness of God, who provided for me a place of re- 
 fuge in the country, I yet enjoy both life and health ; 
 which, as long as they continue, I shall be happy to 
 employ in any useful undertaking. It gives me plea- 
 sure to think, that after so long an interval I have 
 again occurred to your remembrance ; though, owing 
 to the luxuriance of your praise, you seem almost to 
 lead me to suspect that you had quite forgotten one in 
 whom you say that you admire the union of so many 
 virtues; from such an union I might dread too numer- 
 ous a progeny, if it were not evident that the virtues 
 flourish most in penury and distress. But one of those 
 virtues has made me but an ill return for her hospita- 
 ble reception in my breast; for what you term policy, 
 and which I wish that you had rather called patriotic 
 piety, has, if I may so say, almost left me, who was 
 charmed with so sweet a sound, without a country. 
 The other virtues harmoniously agree. Our country is 
 wherever we are well off. I will conclude after first 
 begging you if there be any errors in the diction or the 
 punctuation to impute it to the boy who wrote this, 
 who is quite ignorant of Latin, and to whom I was, 
 with no little vexation, obliged to dictate not the words, 
 but, one by one, the letters of which they were com- 
 posed. I rejoice to find that your virtues and talents, 
 of which I saw the fair promise in your youth, have 
 raised you to so honourable a situation under the prince ; 
 and I wish you every good which you can enjoy. 
 Adieu. 
 
 London, Aug. 15, 1666. 
 
 3q 
 
AN 
 
 ALPHABETICAL INDEX 
 
 PRINCIPAL MATTERS. 
 
 AARON, his priesthood no pattern to 
 eround episcopacy on, 33. 
 
 Abimt'lech, remarks on the manner of his 
 death, a57. 
 
 Abrnhum, commanded by God to send 
 away his irreligious wife, 131. His pay- 
 ing tithes to Melchisedec, no authority 
 for our paying them now, 426, 430, 415. 
 
 Abramiiex, allege the example of the an- 
 cient fathers for ima^e- worship, 27. 
 
 Acciilevce, reasons for joining it and gram- 
 mar toj,^ether, 457. 
 
 Acirorih. University-Orator, the memrry of 
 Bucerand P'agius celebrated by him, 160. 
 
 Adam, left free to choose, 1 10. Created in 
 the image of God, 178. His alliance with 
 Eve, nearer than that of any couple since, 
 183. 
 
 Adda, succeeds his father Ida in the king- 
 dom of Bemicia, .512. 
 
 Adminiut, son of Cunobeline, banished his 
 country, flees to the emperor Caligula, 
 and stirs him up against it, 4S8- 
 
 Adultery, not the only reason for divorce, 
 according to the law of Moses, 12.5. Not 
 the greatest breach of matrimony, 133. 
 Punished with death by the law, 206. Our 
 Saviour's sentence relating to it, explain- 
 ed, 207. 
 
 JEduans, in Burgundy, employ the Britons 
 to build their temples and public edifices, 
 499. 
 
 Ayanippus, a Gaulish king, marries Cor- 
 deilla, daughter of King Leir, 480 Re- 
 stores her father to his throne, ib. 
 
 Agatha, decree of the council there, con- 
 cerning divorce, 214. 
 
 Agricolii, son of Severianus, spreads the Pe- 
 lagian doctrine in Britain, .50^5. 
 
 Aida H, a Scotch bishop, sent for by Oswald, 
 to settle religion, 319. Has his episcopal 
 seat at Lindisfarne, ib- Dies for griei of 
 the murder of Oswin, 520. 
 
 A} arte, takes Rome from the emperor Ho- 
 norius, .501. 
 
 Alban, of Verulam, with others, suffers mar- 
 tyrdom under Dioclesian, 409. 
 
 Alba nact, one of the three sons of Brutus, 
 that has Albania, now Scotland, for his 
 share in the kingdom, 478. 
 
 Albert, said to have shared the kingdom of 
 the Kast-Angles with Humbeanna after 
 Elfwald, .528. 
 
 Albina, said to be the eldest of Dioclesian's 
 50 daughters, 476. From her the name 
 Albion derived, i6. 
 
 Albion, the ancient name of this island, 476. 
 Whence derived, ib. 
 
 Alciat, his opinion concerning divorce, 218. 
 
 Alcred slaving Ethelwald, usurps the king- 
 dom of the Northumbrians, .52.5. 
 
 Aldfrid, recalled from Ireland, succeeds his 
 brother Ecfrid in the Northumbrian king- 
 dom, .523. Leaves Osred, a child, to suc- 
 ceed him, ib. 
 
 Aldulf, nephew of Etheldwald, succeeds 
 king of the East- Angles, 528. 
 
 Alectvt, treacherously slays his friend Ca- 
 rausius, 498. Is overthrown by Asclepio- 
 dotus, and slain, 499. 
 
 Alemannus, reported one of the four sons of 
 Histion, descended from Japhet ; of whom 
 the Alemanni or Germans, 476. 
 
 Alfage, archbishop of Canterbury, inhu- 
 manly used by the Danes, ,547. Killed by 
 Thrun, a Dane, in commiseration of his 
 misery, ib. 
 
 Alfred, the fourth son of Ethelwolf, and 
 successor of his brother Ethelred, encoun- 
 ters the Danes at Wilton, .533. Routs the 
 whole Danish power at E<linton, and 
 brings them to terms, 531. He is said to 
 have bestowed the East-Angles upon Gv- 
 tro, a Danish king, who had been lately 
 baptized, ib. A long war afterwards 
 maintained between him and the Danes, 
 ib. 535. He dies in the .30th year of his 
 reign, and is buried at Winchester, 535. 
 His noble character, ib. .5.38. 
 
 Atfwotd, driving out Eardulf, usurps the 
 kingdom of Northumberland, .528. 
 
 Algar, earl of Howland, now Holland, Mor- 
 car, lord of Brunne, and Osgot, governor 
 ofLincoln, kill a great multitude of Danes 
 in battle, with three of their kings, .532. 
 Overpowered by numbers, and drawn into 
 a snare, Algar dies valiantly fighting, ib. 
 
 Algar, the son of Leofric, banished by King 
 Edward, joins Griffin prince of South- 
 Wales, .5.57. Unable to withstand Harold 
 earl of Kent, submits to the king, and is 
 restored, ib. Banished again, he recovers 
 his earldom by force, ib. 
 
 Alipiu.1, made deputy of the British pro- 
 vmce, in the room of Martinus, 499. 
 
 Alia, begins the kingdom of Deira, in the 
 south part of Northumberland. 512,513. 
 
 Alric, kmg of Kent, after Ethelbert the 2d, 
 526. With him dying, ends the race of 
 Hengist, 527. 
 
 Ambassador. See French, Spanish, ^c. 
 
 Ambassadors of Christ, who style them- 
 selves so, 435. Not to ask maintenance 
 of those to whom they are sent, ib. 
 
 Ambrose, his notion of wedlock, 214 Ex- 
 communicated Theodosius, 334. His con- 
 duct to that emperor remarked, 365. Re- 
 sists the higher powers, contrary to his 
 own doctrine, 373. 
 
 Ambrosiits Aurelianus, dreaded by Vorti- 
 gem, .509. Defeats the Saxons, ib. Un- 
 certain whether the son of Constantine 
 the usurper, or the same with Merlin, and 
 son of a Roman consul, ib. Succeeds 
 Vortigem as chief monarch of the isle, ib. 
 
 Ames, Dr. his definition of marriage, 186. 
 
 Anabaptists, accused of denying infants 
 their right to baptism, .563. 
 
 Anaclstus, the friend of King Pandrasus, 
 taken m fight by Brutus, 477. Forced by 
 Brutus to betray his countrymen, ib. 
 
 Andraqius, one in the catalogue of ancient 
 British kings, 482. 
 
 Andrews, bishop, and the primate of Ar- 
 
 magh, maintain that church-government 
 is to be patterned from the law, 32. Their 
 arguments for episcopacy examined, 34, 
 &c. 
 
 Androgen*, one of Lud's sons, has London 
 assigned him, and Kent, 482. Forsakes his 
 claim to the kingdom, and follows Caesar's 
 fortune, 48a 
 
 Angels, of the seven Asian churches, whe- 
 ther to be taken collectively, or individu- 
 ally, 67. 
 
 Anger, and laughter, why first seated in 
 the breast of men, .55. 
 
 Animadversions on the Remoastrant's De- 
 fence against Smectvmnuus, .55. 
 
 Anlaf the Dane, with his army of Irish, and 
 Constantine king of Scotland, utterly dis- 
 comfited by King Athelstan, .539 
 
 Anna succeeds Sigebert in the kingdom of 
 the East-Angles, .520. Is slain in war by 
 Penda the Mercian, ib. 
 
 Antigonus, the brother of King Pandrasus, 
 taken in fight by Brutus, 477. 
 
 Antinomianism and Familism, considered, 
 1.36. 
 
 Antioch, had not the name of Theopolis, till 
 Justinian's time, 24. 
 
 Antiquitg, custom, canons, and councils, no 
 warrant for superstitious practices, 65. 
 
 Antoninus, sent against the Caledonians, 
 by his father Severus, 498. After whose 
 death he takes hostages, and departs to 
 Rome, ib. 
 
 Antony, Mark, quoted by Salmasius for 
 the prerogative royal, 353. 
 
 Apocalypse, of St. John, the majestic image 
 of a stately tragedy, 43. 
 
 Apology for "Smectymnuus, 75. 
 
 Apostles, instituted presbyters to govern 
 the church, 38 Appointed a number of 
 grave and faithful brethren to assist the 
 minister of each congregation, 49. Not 
 properly bishops, 316. 
 
 .^rcnrfifi.SirPhilipSidney's; K. C's prayer 
 stolen thence, 279. 
 
 Archigallo, deposed for his tyranny, 482. 
 Being restored by his brother, he then 
 reigns worthily, ib. 
 
 Archimailus, one in the number of ancient 
 British kings, 482. 
 
 Areopagiticn, speech for unlicensed print- 
 ing under that title, 103, 
 
 Areopagus, judges of, condemn the books 
 of Protagoras to be burned, 105. 
 
 Aretius, his opinion concerning divorce, 
 218. 
 
 ArgentocoTus, a Caledonian, his wife's bold 
 reply to the empress Julia, 497. 
 
 Arians and Socinians, their notions of the 
 Trinity, .563. 
 
 Ariminum, synod of more than 400 bishops 
 sppointed "to assemble there, by Con- 
 stantius, 499. 
 
 Aristotle, his definition of a king, 234. 
 
 Reckons up five sorts of monarchies, 3.50. 
 
 Salmasius's extract from his third book of 
 
 politics, 375. Commends the kingdom of 
 
 I 
 
INDEX. 
 
 the Lacedemonians, 3S5. His definition 
 of a tyrant, 40B. 
 
 jlrmimiant, their tenets, 563. 
 
 Armorica in France, peopled by Britons 
 that fled from the Saxons, .Via 
 
 Annii, EnKlish, offered the spoil of London, 
 if they would destroy the parliament, 284. 
 Obedience and ftilelity to the supreme 
 ma^trates recommended to them, IS. 
 
 AroH, a British martyr under Dioclesian, 
 499. 
 
 Arthur, the victory at Badon-hill, by some 
 ascribetl to him, which by others Is attri- 
 buted to Ambrose, 510. VVlio he was, 
 and whether the author of such famous 
 acts as are related of him, \b. 511. 
 
 ArtU Logical plenior Institutio, 881. 
 
 ArviraguM, engaging against Claudius, 
 keeps up the oattle to a victory, by per- 
 sonating his slain brother Cuidenus, 
 489. 
 
 Atckam, Anthonv, sent as aprent to Spain, 
 from the English commonwealth, .58S. 
 Justice demande I of the king of Spain 
 against his murderers, .591. 
 
 Attaracut, a Trojan prince, joins with 
 Brutus against Piindrasus, 477. 
 
 Attembly of dirinfH, Tract of divorce ad- 
 dressed to them, 120. 
 
 Atkanatius, his notion concerning kings, 
 365. 
 
 Athelstan, the son of King Edward the 
 elder, by a concubine, solemnly crowned 
 at Kmgston upon Thames, .538. The con- 
 spiracy of one .'Vlfred and his accomplices 
 against him discovered, ib. %Ie gives his 
 sister Edgith to Sitric the Dari^ , but drives 
 Anlafand Guthfert out of their kingdom, 
 ib. The story of his dealing witn his 
 brother Edwin, questioned as improba- 
 ble, t*. 539. He overthrows a vast army 
 of Scotch and Irish, under Anlaf and 
 Constantine, king of Scotland, .539. He 
 dies at Gloucester, and is buried at 
 Malmsbury, .540. His character, ib. 
 
 Athent, their magistrates took notice only 
 of two sorts of writings, 10-5. 
 
 Atticots invade the south coast of Britain, 
 500. 
 
 Auguttut, libels burnt, and the authors 
 punished by him, lft5. 
 
 Aulus Plautius sent against Britain by the 
 emperor Claudius, 488. He overthrows 
 Caractacus and Togodumnus, 4S9. Is 
 very much put to it by the Britons, ib. 
 Sends to Claudius to" come over, and 
 joins with him, ib. Leaves the country 
 miiet, and returns triumphant to Rome, 
 
 Aureliut Conanut, a British king, one of 
 the five that is said to have reigned to- 
 ward the beginning of the Saxon hep- 
 tarchy, 513. 
 
 Autlin, what he accounted a becoming 
 solace for Adam, 181. Allows fornication 
 a sufficient cause for divorce, 214. His 
 opinion why God created a wife for 
 Adam, 22.5 A maintainer of the clergy's 
 right to tithes, 429. Sent with others 
 from Rome, to preach the gospel to the 
 Saxons, 514. Is received by King Ethel- 
 bert. who hears him in a great assembly, 
 ib 515. Is ordained archbishop of the 
 English, 51-5. Hath his seat at Canter- 
 bury, ib. Summons together the British 
 bishops, requiring them to conform with 
 him in points wherein they diilered, 516. 
 Upon their refusal, he stirs up Ethelfrid 
 against them, to the slaughter of 1200 
 monks, 5lfl 
 
 Auttria, archd\ike of, see Leopold. 
 
 Autarchy, mentioned by Marcus Aurelius, 
 what it is, 3-'A. 
 
 Aulhoritiet, lor the difference of bishops 
 and presbyters, not to be depended on, 23. 
 
 B 
 
 Bacon, Sir Francis, his complaint of the 
 bishops' partiality in licensing pamph- 
 lets, .57. 
 
 BadiauK, John, letter to, 962. 
 
 Badon-hill, the ill improvement the British 
 made of their success there, 512. 
 
 Bangor, monks of, live by their own labour, 
 516. Go to a conference with Austin, ib. 
 
 Baotitm, sacrament of, seems cancelled by 
 the sign added thereto, 46. 
 
 Barclay, traduces the English as to their 
 religious tenets, 40. 
 
 Barriut, one of the first race of kings, fabled 
 to have reigned in this island, 478. De- 
 scended from Samothes, t*. 
 2 
 
 Batil, his opinion as to divorce. 214. Calls 
 the bishoiw slaves of slaves, 317. 
 
 Bath, by whom built, 479. Its medicinal 
 waters dedicated to Minerva, ib. 
 
 Beet, the government among them quoted 
 to prove the pope's supreniacv, 350, 
 
 Belfast, representation and exhortation of 
 the presbytery there, 260, See. Remarks 
 on them, 266. Sec. 
 
 Belgia. Helvetia, and Geneva, their church- 
 men remarkable for learning, 71. 
 
 Belinui succeeds his father Dunwallo,4SI. 
 His contentions with his brother Hrcn- 
 nus, ib. Their reconciliation, ib. Built 
 the Tower of London, ib. 
 
 Beorn, precedes Ethelred in the kingdom 
 of the East-Angles, CfiS. 
 
 Berieui, fleeing to Rome, persuades the em- 
 peror Claudius to invade this island, 488. 
 
 Berinus, a bishop sent by pope Honorius, 
 converts the West-Saxons and their kings 
 to Christianity, 519. 
 
 Bernicia, kingdom of, in Northumberland, 
 begun by Ida the Saxon, 511. 
 
 Bernutf. usurping the kingdom of Mercia 
 from Keolwulf. is overthrown by Ecbert 
 at EUandune, ,528 Fleeing to the East- 
 Angles, is by them slain, ib. 
 
 Beza, his interpretation of the word vi>e<T/3v- 
 Ttpio», 66. His opinion, of regulating sin 
 by apostolic laws, not sound, 148, His 
 testimony concerning Martin Bueer, 159, 
 His notion concerning divorce, 218. 
 
 Bible, put by the papists in the first rank 
 of prohibited books, 108 
 
 Bigot, Emeric, letter to, 960, 
 
 Birthric, king of the West Saxons after Kin- 
 wulf, 526. Secretly seeks the life of 12c- 
 bert, 5-27. Is poisoned by a cup which 
 his wife had prepared for another, ,528, 
 
 Bishop and deacon, the only ecclesiastical 
 orders mentioned in the gospel. 28. 
 
 Bishop and presbyter, two names to signify 
 the same order, 27. Equally tyrants over 
 learning, if licensing be brought in, 113. 
 
 Bishopric, the author's opinion of it, 91, 
 
 Bishops, have been as the Canaanites and 
 Philistines to this kingdom, 13. By their 
 opposition to King John, Normandy lost, 
 he deposed, and the kingdom made over 
 to the pope, ib. No bishop, no king, an 
 absurd position, ib. Sometimes we read 
 of two in one place, 26. Not an order 
 above presbyters, ib. Elected with con- 
 tention and bloodshed, ,37. St. Paul's de- 
 scription of and exhortation to them, 6-5. 
 Not to be compared with Timothv, 67. 
 If made by God, yet the bishopric is the 
 king's gi ft, 7 1. Most potent, when princes 
 happen to be most weak, 316. 
 
 Bladud, the son of Rndhuddibras, builds 
 Caerbadus, or Bath, 479. 
 
 Bleduno, one in the number of the ancient 
 British kings. 482. 
 
 Bl€gabredus^\s excellency in music, 482. 
 
 Blindness, instances of men of worth af- 
 flicted with, 926. 
 
 Boadicea, the wife of Prasutagus, together 
 with her daughters, abused by the Roman 
 soldiers, 491. Commands in'chief in the 
 British army against the Romans, 492. 
 Vanquished by Suetonius, supposed to 
 have poisoned herself, 493. 
 
 Bodin, tliough a papist, affirms presbyte- 
 rian church-discipline to be best, 48. 
 
 flonoma«ai, Benedict, letters to, 953. 
 
 Bonosus, endeavouring to make himself 
 emperor, but vanquished by Probus, 
 hangs himself. 498. A sarcasm on his 
 drunkenness, ib. 
 
 Books, the heinous crime of killing good 
 ones. 104. .Some good, some bad ; left to 
 each man's discretion. 107. Those of pa- 
 pists suffered to be sold and read, ,56,5. 
 
 Bordelloes, author's defence from the ac- 
 cusation of frequenting them, 80. 
 
 Boris procures the death of the emperor of 
 Russia, and then ascends the throne, 
 ,57,5, His method to procure the people's 
 love, ib. 
 
 Bomes, Sir Jerbm, ambassador from Queen 
 Elizabeth to Russia, his reception and 
 negociations at that court, ,579-581. 
 
 Bracton, the power of kings limited, ac- 
 cording to him, 400. 
 
 Bradshaw, John, character of, 937, 
 
 Bradshaw, Richard, sent as atrent from the 
 English commonwealth, to Hamborough, 
 5S0. 
 
 Brandenburqh, Frederic William, marquis 
 of, Oliver's letters to him. 624, G-i* 
 
 Brai, Lord Henry de, letters to, JKiO, 962. 
 
 Breme, the Protector's letters to the consuls 
 and senators of that city, 605, 6^ 
 
 Brennut and Belinus, the sons of Dun- 
 wallo Mulmutius, contend about the 
 kingdom, 481, After various conflicLs, 
 reconciled by their mother Conuvenna, 
 ib. They tiirn their united forces into 
 foreign parts, but Belinus returns and 
 reigns long in peace, ib. 
 
 Britain, history of the allkirs thereof alto- 
 gether obscure and uncertain, until the 
 coming of Julius Cassar, 47,5, Inhabited 
 before the flood probably, ib. By whom 
 first peopled, 476. Named first Samothea 
 from Samothes, ib. Next Albion, and 
 whence, ib. Fruitful of courageous men, 
 but not of able governors, 503. 
 
 Britomarus, mentioned by Flonis, a 
 Briton, 481. 
 
 Britons, about forty years without a king, 
 after the Romans quitted the island, .'{.'JS. 
 Stoutly oppose Caesar at his landing, 
 484, Offer him terms of peace, it. Their 
 manner of fltrhting, 485, 488, A siiarp 
 dispute between the Britons and the 
 Romans near the Stour in Kent, 4S6. De- 
 feated by Caesar, and brought anew to 
 terms of peace, 487, Their nature and 
 customs, io. 488, Their ma.ssacre of the 
 Roman.s, 4f»2. This revenged by the 
 Romans, 493. Lived formerly proihiscu- 
 ously and incestuously, 497. They are 
 acquitted of the Roman jurisdiction by 
 the emperor Honorius, not able to defend 
 them against their enemies, .501. Again 
 supplicate Honorius for aid, who spares 
 them a Roman legion, 504. And again 
 a new supply, ib. Their submissive let- 
 ters to Atius the Roman consul, 505, 
 Their luxury and wickedness, and cor- 
 ruptions of tneir clergy, 506, 512. Their 
 embassy to the Saxons for their aid 
 against the Scots and Picts, with the 
 Saxons' answer, ,507. Miserably harassed 
 by the Saxons whom thev called in, ih. 
 Routed by Kerdic, 510, By Kenric and 
 Keaulin, 512, 513. By Cuthulf, 513. To- 
 tally vanquish Keaulin, ib. Are put to 
 flight by Kenwalk, 321. 
 
 Brittenburgh, near Leyden, built or seized 
 on by the Britons in their escape from 
 Hengist, 508. 
 
 Britto, named among the four sons of His- 
 tion, sprunjj of Japhet, and from him the 
 Britons said to be derived, 476. 
 
 Brook, Lord, for toleration, 1 17. 
 
 Brownists, who are so, according to Sal- 
 masius, 385. 
 
 Brutus, said to be descended from JEneas 
 a Trojan prince, 476. Retiring into 
 Greece after having unfortunately killed 
 his father, he delivers his countrymen 
 from the bondage of Pandrasus, 477. 
 Marries Innogen, the eldest daughter of 
 Pandrasus, tft. Lands upon a desert 
 island called Leogecia, ib. Where he 
 consults the oracle of Diana, ib. Meets 
 with Corineus, 478. Overcomes Goffa- 
 rius Pictus, ib. Arrives in this island, ib. 
 Builds Troja Nova, now London, ib. Dies 
 and is buried there, ib. 
 
 Brutus sumamed Greenshield, succeeds 
 Ebranc, and gives battle to Brunchildis, 
 479. 
 
 Bucer, Martin, testimonies of learned men 
 concerning him, 1.59, &c. His opinion 
 concerning divorce, embraced by the 
 church of Strasburgh, 161. His treatise 
 of divorce dedicated to Edward VI., 164. 
 Remarkable conclusion of his treatise of 
 divorce, 173. 
 
 Buchanan, censured as an historian, 501, 
 51.5, .538. 
 
 Buckingham, duke of, accused of poisoning 
 KingJames the first, 277. 
 
 Burhed. reduces the north Welsh to obe- 
 dience, .530. Marries Ethelswida the 
 daughter of King Ethelwolf, ib. Driven 
 out of his kingdom by the Danes, he flees 
 to Rome, where dying, he is buried in 
 the Enclish school, .5;i3. His kingdom 
 let out by the Danes to Kelwulf, ib. 
 
 Burials, reasons against taking of fees for 
 them, 430. 
 
 Cadwallon, see Kedwalla. 
 
 Ctfsar, the killing him commended as a 
 glorious action by M. Tulliu^ 382, 390. 
 see Julius Ca-sar. 
 
 Caius Sidius Gein, behaves himself valiant- 
 ly against the Britons, 480, 
 
 Caius I'olusenus, sent into Britain by CiP- 
 sar, to make discovery of the country and 
 people, 484, 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Caligula, a Roman emperor, his expedi- 
 tion against Britain, 488. 
 
 Calvin, ami Beza, the dissolvers of episco- 
 pacy at Geneva, 25 
 
 Calvinists, taxed with making God the 
 author of sin, .-563. 
 
 Camaloiiiiniim, or Maklon, the chief seat 
 of Cyinbeline, 488. Made a Roman co- 
 lony, 490, 491. 
 
 Camber, one of the sons of Brutus, has 
 allotted to him Cambria or Wales, 478. 
 
 Cambridge, burnt by the Danes, .'>17. 
 
 CambriiU/e University, thought to be 
 founded by Sigebert king of the East- 
 Angles, .520. 
 
 Cameron, his explanation of St Paul's 
 manner of speaking, 210. 
 
 Canterbury, by whom built, 479. Partly 
 taken arid burnt by the Danes, .547. 
 
 Canute, son ot Swaue, chosen king after his 
 father's death by the Danish army and 
 fleet, .548. Driven back to his ships by 
 Ethelred, ib. Returns with a great army 
 from Denmark, accompanied with Lach- 
 man king of Sweden, and Olav of Nor- 
 way, t* Attacks London, but is re- 
 pulsed, ,549. Divides the kingdom with 
 Edmund by agreement, ib. Alter Ed- 
 mund's dea'th reigns sole king, .>;30. En- 
 deavours the extirpation of the Saxon 
 line, ib. Settles his Kingdom, and makes 
 peace with the neighbouring princes, ib. 
 ( auses Edric, whose treason he had 
 made use of, to be slain, and his body to 
 be thrown over the city-wall, ib. Sub- 
 dues Norway, ,551. Goes to Rome, and 
 offering there rich gilts, vows amend- 
 ment of life, ib. Dies at Shaftsbury, 
 and buried at Winchester, ib. His cen- 
 sure, ib. His remarkable instance of the 
 weakness of kings, 552. 
 
 Cajain, one in the catalogue of the ancient 
 British kings, 482. 
 
 Capoirus, another of the same number, 
 482. 
 
 Caractacus, the youngest son of Cunobe- 
 line, succeeds in the kingdom, 488. Is 
 overthrown by Aulus Plautius, 489. 
 Heads the Silures against the Romans, 
 490. Betrayed by Cartismandu", to 
 whom he fle<i for refuge, ib. Sent to 
 Rome, ib. His speech to the emperor, 
 t6. By tlie braveness of his carriage, he 
 obtains pardon for himself and all his 
 company, ib. 
 
 Carausius, grown rich with piracy, pos- 
 sesses himself of this island, 498 He 
 Ibrtifles the wall of Severus, ib. In the 
 midst of the great preparations of Con- 
 stantius Chlorus against him, he is slain 
 by his friend Alectus, ib. 
 
 Carinus. sent by his father Cams the em- 
 peror, to govern Britain, is overcome and 
 slain by Dioclesian, 498. 
 
 Carlisle, by whoni and when built. 479. 
 
 Cartismanttua, queen of the Brigantes, de- 
 livers Caractacus bound to the Romans, 
 490. Deserts her husband Venutius, and 
 gives both herself and kingdom to Vello- 
 catus, one of his squires, 491. 
 
 Cari'ilius, the first Roman who sought di- 
 vorce, and why, 180. 
 
 Carviliu.i, a petty king in Britain, with 
 three others, assaults the Roman camp, 
 487. 
 
 Caryl, Mr. (author of the comment on Job,) 
 remarks on his conduct as a licenser, 221, 
 222. 
 
 Cassibelan, one of the sons of Heli, gains 
 the kingdom by common consent, 482. 
 (ienerosity to his brother's son, ib. 
 Heads the Britons against Julius Casar 
 and the Romans, 486. He is deserted by 
 the Trinobantes, and why, 487. Yielffe 
 to Caesar, ib. Dies, and is buried at 
 York, ib. 
 
 Cns/rius, how treated for killing Caligula, 
 382. 
 
 Cataracta, an ancient city in Yorkshire, 
 burnt by Anired a tyrant. .526. 
 
 Catellus, an ancient British king. 482. 
 
 Catkay, description of that country and in- 
 habitants, .572. 
 
 Cerdic, a Saxon prince, lands at Cerdic- 
 shore, and overthrows the Britons, .509. 
 Defeats their king Natanleod in a memo- 
 rable battle, 510. Founds the kingdom 
 of the West Saxons, ib. See Kerdic. 
 
 Ceremonies, oppose the reason and end of 
 the gospel, 45. Frustrate the end of 
 (Christ's coming in the flesh, 46. 
 
 Chancelor, Richard, his arrival at Moscow, 
 and reception there, .578. 
 
 Chaplains, what they are, 324. 
 
 Charity, the fulfilling of the law, 122.— and 
 mutual forbearance, means to abate 
 popery, .565. 
 
 Charles' I. censured for dissolving parlia- 
 ments, 276. Remarks on his devotion, 
 278, 279. How attended to the house of 
 commons, 282 His conduct towards the 
 Irish rebels, 306 His indecent behaviour 
 in the playhouse, &c. 371. Charged with 
 poisoning" his father, 384. With several 
 irregular actions, 400. His flight to the 
 IsleofWi^ht, »43. 
 
 Charles II. Jeclaredhe would never pardon 
 those who put his father to death, though 
 this was said to be his father's dying in- 
 junction, 939. 
 
 Charles V , how he deceived many German 
 cities, .30.5. 
 
 Cliarles Gustavns, king of Sweden, letters 
 from Oliver to. 604, 6a5. 007. 611, 613, 615, 
 618, 619. 024, 62,8, 633. From Richard the 
 protector, dW, 635. From the parliament 
 restored, 637. 
 
 Chastity, the defence of it recommended, 
 81. 
 
 Chaucer, his character of the priests of his 
 time, 10, 12. 
 
 Cheek, Sir John, his testimony concerning 
 Martin Bucer, 1.59. 
 
 Cherin, an ancient British king, 482. 
 
 Christ, his method of in.structinar men, 83. 
 His manner of teaching, 223- Never ex- 
 ercised force but once, 421. 
 
 Christenings, reasons against taking fees 
 for them, 4-30. 
 
 Christiern, king of Denmark, his bloody 
 revenge. 212. 
 
 Clirislian faith, received in Britain by King 
 Lucius, 496. Said to have been preafhed 
 by Faganus and Deruvianus, ib. Others 
 say long before by Simon Zelotes, or 
 Joseph of Arimathea, ib. Upon what oc- 
 casion preached to the Saxons, .514. 
 
 Christian*, primitive, all things in common 
 among them, 203. Their behaviour to 
 tyrants, 373. 
 
 Christina, queen of Sweden, letter to her 
 from the English commonwealth, 593. 
 Her character, 931. 
 
 Chrysa nth us, the soi i of Marcianus a bishop, 
 made deputy of Britain by Theodosius, 
 .500. 
 
 Chn/soslom, St. was an admirer of Aris- 
 tophanes. 105. His explanation of St. 
 Paul's epistle relating to obedience to the 
 higher powers, 362, 396. 
 
 Church, of the Reformation of the Disci- 
 pline of, in England, and the causes that 
 have prevented it, 1. The likeliest means 
 to remove hirelings out of the. 423 
 
 Church, not to be reformed while governed 
 by prelates, .30. Its constitution and 
 fabric set out in the prophecy of Ezekiel, 
 31. When able to do her "great works 
 upon the unforced obedience of men, it 
 argues a divinity about her, 47. Her 
 humility procures her the greatest re- 
 spect, ib. Design of the prelates in call- 
 ing the church Our mother. 72. Demands 
 our obedience when she holds to the rules 
 of Scripture, 329. Excommunicates not 
 to destruction, 422. Will not cease to 
 persecute till it ceases to be mercenary, 
 947. 
 
 Church of England, honours and prefer- 
 ments should not be the incitements to 
 her service, 70, 71. Difference between 
 the church of Rome and her. S?0. Main- 
 tains that the word of God is the rule of 
 true religion, and rejects implicit faith, 
 .562. 
 
 Church-discipHne, dangerous to be left to 
 man's invention, 31. 
 
 Church-government, its form prescribed in 
 the gospel, 29, 31. Not to be patterned 
 by the law, .32. Its government by pre- 
 lates fosters papists and idolaters, 40. 
 Its corrupted estate both the cause of 
 tumult and civil wars, 41. Its functions 
 to be free and open to any christian man, 
 .50. 
 
 Churchmen, sometimes preach their own 
 follies, not the gospel. 92. Time-servers, 
 covetou.s, &c. ib. Their deficiency in 
 the Latin, (rreek, and Hebrew learning, 
 ib. 93. Their weakness, in calling on the 
 civil magistrate to assist them, 418. By 
 whom to be maintained, 4'iO. Lived at 
 first upon the benevolence of their hear- 
 ers, 434. 
 
 Cicero, an enemy to tyrannv, .3-50. Ap- 
 proves the killiiig of Caesar, 382, 390. Af- 
 firms that all power proceeds from the 
 people, 395. 
 
 Cingetorix, a petty king in Britain, assaults 
 the Roman camp, 487. Is taken prisoner 
 by Caesar, ib. 
 
 Claudius, the emperor, is persuaded by 
 Bericus, though a Briton, to invade this 
 island, 488. Sends Aulus Plautius hither 
 with an army, ib. He comes over him- 
 self and joins with Plautius, 489. De- 
 feats the Britons in a set battle, and takes 
 Camalodunum, ib. Returns to Rome, 
 leaving Plautius behind, ib. He has ex- 
 cessive honours decreed him by the se- 
 nate, ib. 
 
 Clemens Ale.randrinus, no authority for 
 bishops being above presbyters, to be 
 found in his works, 26. His counsel to 
 the presbyters of Corinth, 30. 
 
 Clergy, should be patterns of temperance, 
 and teach us to contemn the world, 53. 
 Advised not to gape after i)referments, 
 69. Their condition in England, MO. 
 
 Clergy, British, their bad character by 
 Gildas, 512 
 
 Cliguellius, an ancient British king, 482. 
 
 Clodius Albinus succeeds Pertinax in the 
 government of Britain for the Romans, 
 4Sn. Is vanquished and slain in a battle 
 against Septimus Severus, ib. 
 
 Cloten, reigned king of Cornwall, 4S0. 
 
 Clotenus, an ancient British king, 482. 
 
 Cloud, one sometimes fiery, sometimes 
 bloodv. seen overall England, .544. 
 
 Coillus,'nn ancient British king, 48'2. 
 
 Coilus, the son of Marius, leaves the king- 
 dom to Lucius, 496. 
 
 Colasterion, a defence of the doctrine and 
 discipline of divorce, so called, 220. 
 
 Comail, and two other British kings, slain 
 by Keaulin, and his son Cuthwin, 51.3. 
 
 Comet, one seen in .August 678, in manner 
 of a fiery pillar, .522. Two appear about 
 the sun, .524. Portending famine, and the 
 troubled state of the whole realm, .54:i. 
 Or blazing star, seen to stream terribly 
 over England, and other parts of the 
 world, .5.50. 
 
 Comius of Arras, sent by Caisar to make a 
 party among the Brito'ns, 484. 
 
 Commodus, slain by his own officers, de- 
 clared an enemv to his country, 38.3. 
 
 Commons, with the king, make a good par- 
 liament, 3*5, 398. Their grant to K. 
 Richard II., and K. Henry IV., 400. 
 
 Commonwealth, of England, more equally 
 balanced than any other civil govern- 
 ment, 17. Means "proposed to heal the 
 ruptures in it, 439. A free commonwealth 
 delineated, 441. Reasons for establishing 
 one, 442, &c. Comes nearest to the go- 
 vernment recommended by Christ, 444. 
 Preferable to monarchy. 4>5. 
 
 Conanus, Aurelius, an ancient British king, 
 513. 
 
 Condidan, a British kingr, vanquished and 
 slain, 513. 
 
 Conscience, not to be forced in religious 
 matters, 413, &c. 
 
 Constans, the emperor, put to death by the 
 christian soldiers. 373. Of a monk made 
 emperor, .501. Reduces Spain, ib. Dis- 
 placing Gerontius, is opposed by him, 
 and slain, ib. 
 
 Constantine, makes war upon Licinius, and 
 why. 373. 
 
 Constantine, the son of Constantius Chlorus, 
 saluted emperor after his father's death, 
 499. His mother said to be Helena the 
 daughter of Coilus a British prince, ib. 
 His eldest son enjoys this island, ih. A 
 common soldier o"f the same name saluted 
 emperor, 501. By the valour of Edebe- 
 cus and Gerontius, he gains in France as 
 far as Aries, ib. By the confluct of his 
 son Constans, and of Gerontius, he re- 
 duces all Spain, ib. Gerontius displaced 
 by him, calls in the Vandals against him, 
 ib. Besieged by Constantius Comes, he 
 turns priest, is afterwards carried into 
 Italy, and put to death, ib. 
 
 Constantine, the son of Cador, sharply in- 
 veighed against by Gildas, 51.3. He is 
 said to have murdered two young princes 
 of the blood royal, ib. 
 
 Constantine, kin^ of Scotland, joining with 
 the Danes and Irish under Ahlaf, is over- 
 thrown by Athelstan, .539. 
 
 Constantius Chlorus sent against Carausius, 
 498. Defeats Alectus, who is slain in the 
 battle, ib. Is acknowledged by the Britons 
 as their deliverer, 499. Divides the em- 
 pire with Galerius, ib. Dies at York, ib. 
 
 Constantius, the son of Constantine, over- 
 comes Magnentius, who contended with 
 him for the sole empire, 499. 
 
 3 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Contubtlantiation, not a mortal error, 583. 
 
 Contention, in ministers of the gospel, 
 scarce allowable even lor their own 
 rights. 42J. 
 
 Copulation, no longer to be esteemed matri- 
 monial, than it is an eflect of love, 18.5. 
 
 Cordeilla't sincere answer to her father, 
 begets his displeasure, 479. She is ntar- 
 ried to Aganippus, a king in Gaul, 480. 
 She receives her father, rejected by his 
 otfaer daughters, with most dutiful af- 
 fection, ib. Restores him to his crown, 
 and reigns after him, ib. Vanquished, 
 deposed, and imprisoned by her two sis- 
 ters' sons, ib. 
 
 Corineus, a Trojan commander, joins forces 
 with Brutus, 47& Slays Imbertus, ib. 
 Arrives with Rrutus in this island, ib. 
 Cornwall from him denominated falls to 
 his lot, ib. Overcomes the giant Goema- 
 ffog, ib. 
 
 Corinthian*, governed by presbyters, 38. 
 Schism among them not remedied by 
 episcopacy, ib. 
 
 Coronation- Oath, some words said to be 
 struck out of it, 409. 
 
 Covenant, what it enjoined, 268. 
 
 Council, General, what their power and 
 employment, 446. Should be perpetual, 
 ib. Instances of the perpetuity of such a 
 council among otiier states, ib. 
 
 Council, Saxon, of little authority, 224. 
 
 Council of nobles and prelates at Cain in 
 Wiltshire, killed and maimed by the fall- 
 ing in of the room, where they sate, .543. 
 
 Council of State, their reply to tlie Danish 
 ambassadors, &c. 597. 
 
 Council* and Fathers, &n entangled wood, 
 which papists love to fight in, 562. 
 
 Courland, duke of, Oliver's letter to him, 
 623. 
 
 Craig, John, his opinion of kings, 238. 
 
 Cranmer, and the other bishops, concur in 
 setting aside the princesses Mary and 
 Elizabeth, 3. 
 
 Crida, the first of the Mercian kingdom, 
 513. 
 
 Criminal, more just to try one by a court 
 of justice, than to butcltier him without 
 trial, 344 
 
 Crmvns, a clerical debate about the right 
 shaving them, 521. 
 
 Cromirelt, his actions compared with those 
 of the earl of Ormond, 265. His state 
 letters, 603, 792. His character, 9+4. 
 
 Cuichelm, the West-.Saxon, sends Eumerus 
 to assassinate King Edwin, 517. Is bap- 
 tized in Dorchester, but dies the same 
 year, 519. 
 
 Cullen, council there, voted tithes to be 
 God's rent, 429. 
 
 Cunedagius, the son of Regan, deposeth 
 his aunt Cordeilla, 480. Shares the king- 
 dom with his cousin Marganus, is in- 
 vaded by him, meets him and overcomes 
 him, ib. 
 
 Cuneglaa, a British king, reigns one of five 
 a little before the Saxons were settled, 
 513. 
 
 Cunobeline, see Kymbeline. 
 
 Cutha, helps his father Keaulin against 
 Ethel bert. .512. 
 
 Cuthred, king of the West-Saxons, joins 
 with Ethelbald the Mercian, and gains 
 a victory over the Welsh, .52-). He has a 
 fierce battle with Ethelbald the Mercian, 
 which he not long survives, ib. A king 
 of Kent of the same name, .528 
 
 Cuthulf, the brother of Keaulin, vanquishes 
 the Britons at Bedanford, and takes seve- 
 ral tow7i«i, 513 
 
 Cuthwin, see Keaulin. 
 
 Cyprian, unwilling to act without the as- 
 sent of his assistant laics, 49. Episco- 
 pacy in his time, different from wnat it 
 naB been since, 58. 
 
 Danaun, the story of him and his fifty 
 daughters, 380. 
 
 Dane; first appear in the west, 528. They 
 slay the king's gatherer of customs, ib. 
 Landing at Lindisfame in Yorkshire, 
 they pillage that monastery, 527. At- 
 tempting to spoil another monastery, they 
 are cutoff by the EuKlish. ib. Waste and 
 destroy Northumberland, 529. They 
 WBBte Shepey in Kent, and engage with 
 Ecbert, near the river Carr, ib. Are put 
 to flight by Ecbert. 530. Their various 
 •ucceas in the reign of Ethelwolf, ib. &c. 
 Many great battle* between them and 
 4 
 
 the English in the reign of Ethelred, 
 5;ii. Their whole army being defeated, 
 they are brought to terms by King .■Vlfred, 
 534 In the same king's "reign, several 
 vast fleets of Danes arrive with fresh sup- 
 plier ib. .5,T>. Many thousands destroyed 
 at Colchester, and 'in their retreat from 
 Maldon, .5.'17. A vast army of them over- 
 thrown by King Athelstan, 539. Ma.ssa- 
 cred by the English in all parts of the 
 land in the reign of King Ethelred, 54-5. 
 
 Danith amba.ssadors, answers to them 
 from the council of state, .597. 
 
 Danius, reckoned among the ancient Bri- 
 tish kings, 481. 
 
 Dantzick, complained of, for imposing a 
 tribute on the English merchants, for re- 
 lief of the king of Scots, 592. Oliver's 
 letter to the consuls and senators of that 
 republic, 6'23 
 
 David, his exclamation in the 51st Psalm 
 explained, 234. Absolved by God him- 
 self from the guilt of his sin, 35.5. His 
 conduct towards Saul accounted for, 
 368. Compared with King Charles, 371 
 
 Dedication, remarks on one to our Saviour, 
 77. 
 
 Dee, John, the mathematician, invited to 
 Moscow, 581. 
 
 Defence of the people of England against 
 Salmasius, 338. In the original Latin, 
 619. Second, against an anonymous 
 writer, 919. In the original Latin, 707. 
 Of the author against Alexander More, 
 in Latin, 73a 
 
 Deira, kingdom of, in Northumberland, 
 set up by Alia, the West-Saxon, 512, 513. 
 
 Demetrius Evanowich, emperor of Russia, 
 an impostor, dragged out of his bed, and 
 pulled to pieces, 57.5. 
 
 Denmark, king of, see Frederick III. 
 
 Deodate, Charles, letters to, 952, 9.54. 
 
 Deruvianus, see Fag an us. 
 
 Digression, concerning the affairs of church 
 and state, in 1631, 502, &c. 
 
 Dinothus, abbot of Bangor, his speech to 
 bishop Austin, 516. 
 
 Dioclesian, a king of Syria, and his fifty 
 daughters, said to have been driven upon 
 this island, 476. 
 
 Dioclesian, the emperor, persecuted his 
 christian subjects, 499. 
 
 Diodorus, his account how the Ethiopians 
 punish criminals, 379.— of the succession 
 to kingdoms, 391. 
 
 Diogenes, his delineation of a king, 380. 
 
 Dionysius Alexandrinus, commanded in 
 a vision to read any books whatever, 
 107. 
 
 Dis, the first {jeopler of this island, as some 
 fabulously affirm, the same with Samo- 
 thes, 476. 
 
 Disciples of Christ, their saying relating to 
 marriage, explained, 207. 
 
 Discipline, in the church, necessary to re- 
 move disorder, 29. Its definitive decrees 
 to be speedy, but the execution of rigour 
 slow, 47. 
 
 Dispensation, what it is, 141. 
 
 Divines, advice to them not to be disturb- 
 ers of civil affairs, 242. 
 
 Divorce, arguments for it, addressed to the 
 parliament and assembly, 120, &c. In- 
 disposition, unfitness, or contrariety of 
 mind, a better reason for it than natural 
 frigidity, 145. Reasons for it, 126—1.30, 
 133-135. An idolatrous heretic to be di- 
 vorced, when no hope of conversion, 1.30. 
 To prohibit divorce sought for natural 
 causes, is against nature, 133. Christ 
 neither did nor could abrogate the law 
 of divorce, 136. Permitted for hardness 
 of heart, not to be understood by the 
 common exposition, 137. How Moses 
 allowed of it, 14;i. The law of divorce 
 not the premises of a succeeding law, 
 145. A law of moral equity, 14() Not 
 permitted, from the custom of Egypt, 
 147. Moses gave not this law unwill- 
 ingly, ib. Not -given for wives only, 
 149 Christ's sentence concerning it, how 
 to be expounded, 1.50. To be tried by 
 conscience, 15.5. Not to be restrained by 
 law, 157. Will occasion few inconveni- 
 ences, I'A. No inlet to licence and con- 
 fusion, 180. The prohibition of it avails 
 to no good end, 192 Either never esta- 
 bli.shed or never abolished, 196. Lawful 
 to Christians for many causes equal to 
 adultery, 216. Maintained by Wickliff, 
 Luther, and Melancthon, 217. By Eras- 
 mus, Bucer, and Fagius. ib. By Peter 
 Martyr, Beza, and others, 217—219. What 
 the ancient churches thought of divorce, 
 
 168. St. Paul's words concerning It, ex 
 plained, 168. Commanded to certain 
 men, ib. Being permitted to Gods an- 
 cient i)eople, it oelongs also to Christians, 
 ib. Allowed by Christ for other cau.ses 
 beside adultery, 170. For what cause 
 permitted by the civil law, ib. Allowed 
 by christian emperors, in ca.se of mutual 
 consent, 172. Why pennitted to the Jews, 
 224. Why Milton wrote on the subject, 
 934. 
 
 Doctrine and Discipline of Dii'orce, 120. 
 Judgment of Martin Bucer, concerning, 
 15,9. Defence of that tract, 220, &c. Ar- 
 guments against it refuted. 222, &c. 
 
 Domitinn, the killing of him commended 
 by Pliny, 382. 
 
 Donaldus, said to have headed the Caledo- 
 nians against Seplimius Severus, 498. 
 
 Donaldus, king of Scotland, brought to 
 hard conditions by Osbert and Ella, kings 
 of Northumberland, .531. 
 
 Downam, bishop, his opinion of the oppo- 
 sers of the episcopal government, 63. 
 
 Druids, falsely alieeed out of Casar to 
 have forbidden the Britons to write their 
 memorable deeds, 475. Uttering direful 
 prayers, astonish the Romans, 491. Their 
 destruction in the isle of Anglesey, an- 
 ciently Mona, 16. 
 
 Druis, the third from Samothes, fabulously 
 written the most ancient king in this 
 island, 476. 
 
 Drunkenness, how to be prevented, 193. 
 
 Duina, river, account of its fall into the sea 
 at Archangel, 568. 
 
 Dunstan, sent by the nobles to reprove 
 King lidwy, for his luxury, .541. Banished 
 by the king, and his monastery rifled, ib. 
 Recalled by Kintr Edgar, ib. His mira- 
 culous escape wlicn the rest of the com- 
 pany were killed by the fall of a house, 
 .543. His saving of "Ethelred, at the time 
 of his being baptized, 544. His death and 
 character, ib. 
 
 Dunicallo Molmutius, son of Cloten, king 
 of Cornwall, reduces the whole island 
 into a monarchy, 480. Said to be the first 
 British king that wore a crown of gold, 
 ib. Establishes the Molmutine laws, ib. 
 
 Durstus, king of the Picts, said to be slain 
 by the joint forces of the Britons and 
 Romans, 504. 
 
 Dutch, summary of the damages received 
 from them by the East- India company, 
 602,603. 
 
 E 
 
 Eadieald falls back to heathenism, 516. 
 Runs distracted, but afterwards returns 
 to his rierht mind and faith, 517. By what 
 means it happened, ib. He gives his 
 sister Edelburga in marriage to Edwin, 
 ib. Leaves his son Ercombert to suc- 
 ceed, 519. 
 
 Eadbert, shares with his two brothers in 
 the kingdom of Kent, 524. His death, 
 52.5. Eadbert, king of Northumberland, 
 after Kelwolf, wars against the Picts, ib. 
 Joins with Unust, king of the Picts, 
 against the Britons in Cumberland, ib. 
 Forsakes his crown for a monks hood, ib. 
 
 Eadbright, usurping the kingdom of Kent, 
 and contending with Kenulph the Mer- 
 cian, is taking prisoner, .527. 
 
 Eadburgn, by chance poisons her husband 
 Birthfic, with a cup which she had pre- 
 pared for another, .528 The choice pro- 
 posed to her by Charles the great, to 
 whom she fled, ib. He as.signs her a rich 
 monastery to dwell in as abbess, ib. De- 
 tected of uncha<tity, she is expelled, ib. 
 And dies in beggary at Pavia. to. 
 
 Eandred, son of Eafldulf, reigns 30 years 
 king of Northumberland, alter Alfwold, 
 the usurper, 528. Becomes tributary to 
 Ecbert. .529. 
 
 Eanfrid, the son of E^win, converted and 
 baptized, 518. 
 
 Eanfrid, the son of Ethelfrid, succeeds in 
 the kingdom of Bernicia, 519. Slaiij, 16. 
 
 Eardvlf, supposed to have been slain by 
 Ethelred, .527. Is made king of the Nor- 
 thumbrians, in York, after Osbald, ib. 
 In a war raised against him by his peo- 
 ple, he gets the victory, lA. Driven out 
 of his kingdom by Alfwold, .528. 
 
 Earth, whole, inhabited before the flood, 
 475. 
 
 East- Angles, kingdom of, by whom erect- 
 ed, 510. Reclaimed to Christianity, 519. 
 
 East-India Company, English, summary of 
 their damages from the Dutch, 602, 6(i3. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 East-Saxon, kingdom, by whom began, 
 510. The people converted by Melitus, 
 51.5. They expel their bishop, and re- 
 nounce their taith, .516, .517. Are recon- 
 verted by means of Oswi, .VJO. 
 
 Ebranc, succeeds his father Mempricius, in 
 the kingdom of Britain, 479. Builds Caer- 
 Ebranc, now York, and other places, ib. 
 
 Ecbert, succeeds his father P>coinbert, in 
 the kingdom of Kent, .521. Dying, leaves 
 a suspicion of having slain "his uncle's 
 sons, Ecbert and Egelbright, ib. 
 
 Ecbert, of the West-Saxon lineage, flees 
 from Birthric's suspicion to Oira, and 
 thence into France, 527. After Birthric's 
 decease is recalled, and with general ap- 
 plause made king, ib. He subdues the 
 Britons of Cornwall and beyond Severn, 
 528. Overthrows Bemulf at Ellandune 
 or Wilton, ib. The East-Angles yield to 
 his sovereignty, ib. Drives Baldred, 
 king of Kent, out of his kingdom, and 
 causes Kent and other provinces to sub- 
 mit, ib. Withlaf, of Mercia, becomes 
 tributary to him, 529. Gives the Danes 
 battle by the river Carr, ib. In another 
 battle lie puts to flight a great army of 
 them, together with the Cornish men, 
 .530. He dies, and is buried at Winches- 
 ter, ih. 
 
 Ecclexiastical Causes, Treatise of Civil 
 Power in, 412. 
 
 Ecclenin-iticdl Jurisdiction, a pure tyranni- 
 cal forgery of the prelates, 47. 
 
 Ecferth, the son of Offa, the Mercian, with- 
 in four months ends his reign, .527. 
 
 Ecfrid, Oswi's eldest son, succeeds him in 
 file kingdom of Northumberland, .521. 
 Wins I/ihilsey from Wulfer the Mercian, 
 .522. He wars against Ethelred, the bro- 
 ther of Wulfer, ib. He sends Bertus with 
 an army to subdue Ireland, 52.J. March- 
 ing against the Ficts, is cut off with most 
 of his army, ib His death revenged by 
 Bertfrid a Northumbrian captain, ib. 
 
 Eclipse of the sun, followed by a pestilence, 
 521. Another, obscuring almost his 
 whole orb, as with a black shield, .524. 
 
 Edan, a king of the Scots in Britain, put to 
 flight by Ethelfrid, 515. 
 
 Edelard, king of the West-Saxons, after 
 Ina, molested with the rebellion of his 
 kinsman Oswald, 525. Overcoming those 
 troubles, dies in peace, ib. 
 
 Edgar, the brother and successor of Edwy, 
 in the English monarchy, calls home 
 Dunstan from banishment, .541. His 
 prosperous reism, and favour towards the 
 monks, ib. His strict observance of 
 justice, and care to secure the nation 
 with a strong fleet, ib. He ishomaged and 
 rowed down the river Dee, bv eight 
 kings, .542. His expostulation with Ke- 
 ned, king of Scotlahd, ib. He is cheated 
 by the treacherous duke Athelwold of 
 Elfrida, ib. Whom, avenging himself 
 upon the said duke, he marries, 542. 
 Attempting the chastity of a young lady 
 at .•\ndover, is pleasantly deceived by 
 the mother, 543. Buried at Glaston ab- 
 bey, •>i% 
 
 E'l(/ar, sumamed Atheling, his right and 
 title to the crown of England, from his 
 grandfather Edmund Ironside, 5.57, .5.59. 
 Excluded by Harold, son of Earl God- 
 win, .5.59. 
 
 Edilhere, the brother and successor of Anna, 
 in the kingdom of the East- Angles, slain 
 in a battle against Oswi, 521. 
 
 Edilwalk, the South-Saxon, persuaded to 
 Christianity by Wulfer, 522. 
 
 Edith, Earl Gotlwin's daughter, eminent 
 for learning, .554 Is married to Edward 
 the Confessor, ib. Is harshly divorced 
 by him, .555. 
 
 Edmund, crowned king of the East- Angles, 
 at Bury, .531. His whole army put to 
 flight by the Danes, he is taken, "bound to 
 a stake," and shot with arrows, .532. 
 
 Edmund, the brother and successor of Athel- 
 stan, in the English monarchy, frees 
 Mercia, and takes several towns from the 
 Danes, 540. He drives Anlaf and Suth- 
 frid out of Northumberland, and Dun- 
 mail out of Cumberland, ib. The strange 
 manner of his death, ib. 
 
 Edmund, sumamed Ironside, the son of 
 Ethelred, set up by divers of the nobles 
 against Canute, 549. In several battles 
 against the Danes, he comes off for the 
 most, part victorious, ib. At length con- 
 sents to divide the kingdom with Canute, 
 ib. His death thought to have been vio- 
 lent, 550. 
 
 Edred, third brother and successor of 
 Athelstan, reduces the Northumbrians, 
 and puts an end to that kingdom, .541. 
 Dies in the flower of his age, and buried 
 at Winchester, ib. 
 
 Edric, the son of Edilwalk, king of South- 
 Saxons, slain by Kedwalla, the West- 
 Saxon, 522. 
 
 Edric, a descendant of Ermenred, kin^ of 
 the South-Saxons, .522. Died a violent 
 death and left his kingdom in disorder, 
 ib. .523. 
 
 Edric, sumamed Streon, advanced by King 
 Ethelred, marries his daughter Etigitha, 
 Ma. He secretly murders two noblemen 
 whom he had invited to his lodging, 54S. 
 He practises against the life of prince 
 Edmund, and revolts to the Danes, ib. 
 His cunning devices to hinder Edmund 
 in the prosecution of his victories against 
 Canute, 549. Is thought by some to have 
 been the contriver of King Edmund's 
 murder, 5-50. The government of the 
 Mercians conferred upon him, ib. Put to 
 death by Canute, and his head stuck upon 
 a pole, and set upon the highest tower in 
 London, ib. 
 
 Education, of youth, rules for the method 
 and progress of it, 98, &c. That of the 
 clergy generally at the public cost, 436. 
 
 Edward trie Confessor, his law relating to 
 the king's ofldce, 397. Said to be the first 
 that cured the king's evil, 5.58. To have 
 cured blindness with the water wherein 
 he washed his hands, ib. 
 
 Edward VI. a committee appointed by him 
 to frame ecclesiastical laws, 919 Di- 
 vorce allowed by those laws for other 
 causes beside adultery, ib. Acknow- 
 ledges the common-prayer book to be 
 chiefly a translation of' the mass book, 
 314. 
 
 Edward, the elder, son and successor of 
 King Alfred, 5.38. Has war with Ethel- 
 wald his kinsman, who stirs up the Danes 
 against him, ib. Builds Witham in E-s- 
 sex, 5.37. He proves successful and po- 
 tent, divers princes and great command- 
 ers of the Danes submitting to him, ib. 
 .V38. The king and whole nation of Scot- 
 land, with divers other princes and peo- 
 ple, do him homage as their sovereign, 
 ,538. Dies at Farendon, ib. And buried 
 at Winchester, ib. 
 
 Edvard, sumamed the younger, Edgar's 
 son, by his first wife Eg'elfleda, advanced 
 to the throne, 543. The contest in his 
 reign l)etween the monks and secular 
 priests, ib. Great mischief done by the 
 falling of a house where the general 
 council for deciding the controversy was 
 held, ib. Inhumanly murdered by the 
 treacherj' of his step-mother Elfrida, iA. 
 
 Edward, son of Edmund Ironside, heir ap- 
 parent to the crown, dies at London, 5.57. 
 
 Edward, sumamed the Confessor, the son 
 of King Ethelred, by Emma, after Hardic- 
 nute's "death is crowned at Winchester, 
 .5.54. Seizes on the treasures of his mother 
 Queen Emma, ib. Marries Edith, Earl 
 Godwin's daughter, ib. Makes prepara- 
 tion against Magnus, king of Norway, ib. 
 But next year makes peace with Harold 
 Harvager, ib. He advances the Nomians 
 in England, which proves of ill conse- 
 quence, ib. He is opposed by Earl God- 
 win, in the cause of Eustace of Boloign, 
 banishes the earl, and divorces his 
 daughter whom he had married, 555. 
 Entertains Duke William of Normandy, 
 ib. He sends Odo and Radulph, with a 
 fleet, against Godwin and his sons exer- 
 cising piracy, 5.56. Reconciliation at 
 length made, he restores the earl, his sons 
 and daughter, all to their former digni- 
 ties, ib. He is said to have designed 
 Duke William of Normandy his suc- 
 cessor to the crown, 558. Buried at West- 
 minster, ib. His character, ib. 
 
 Edwi, the son and successor of Edmund, is 
 crowned at Kingston, 541. He banishes 
 bishop Dunstan, for reproving his wan- 
 tonness with Algiva, ib. The Mercians 
 and Northumbrians set up his brother 
 Edgar, ib. With grief whereof he ends 
 his days, and is buried at Winchester, ib. 
 
 Edwin, thrown out of the kingdom of Deira, 
 by Ethellrid, 513, 517. Fleeing to Red- 
 wal, the East-Angle, for refuge, is defend- 
 ed against Ethelfrid, 517. He exceeds in 
 power and extent of dominion all before 
 him, ib. Marries Edelburga, the sister of 
 Eadbald, ib. He is wounded by an as- 
 sassin from Cuichelm, ib. The strange 
 
 relation of his conversion to Christianity, 
 518. He persuades Eorpwald, the son of 
 Redwald, to embrace the christian faith, 
 ib. He is slain in a battle against Ked- 
 wallay, 519. 
 
 Edwin, (luke of the Mercians. See Morcar. 
 
 Eqi/ptians, their conduct toward kings, 
 378. 
 
 Eikon Basilike, whether written by King 
 Charles, 2"6. Answers to the several 
 heads of that tract : On the king's call- 
 ing his last parliament, ib. Upon the 
 earl of Strafford's death, 280. Upon his 
 going to the house of commons, 282. 
 Upon the insolency of the tumults, 284. 
 Upon the bill for triennial parliaments, 
 287. Upon his retirement from West- 
 minster, 289. Upon the queen's depar- 
 ture, 293. Upon his repulse at Hull, and 
 the fate of the Hothams, ib. Upon the 
 listing and raising of amiies, 296. Upon 
 seizing the magazines, 299. Upon the 
 nineteen propositions, 302. On the re- 
 bellion in Ireland, 306. Upon the calling 
 in of the Scots, 309. Upon the covenant, 
 311. Upon the many jealousies, &c. 312. 
 Upon tne ordinance against the com- 
 mon-prayer book, 314. Upon the dilTer- 
 ences in" jKiint of church government, 
 31-5. Upon the Uxbridge treaty, &c. 3ia 
 Upon the various events of the war, 319. 
 Upon the reformation of the times, 321. 
 Upon his letters taken and divulged. ,322. 
 Upon his going to the Scots, 323. Upon 
 the Scots delivering the king to the Eng- 
 lish, 334. Upon denying him the attend- 
 ance of his chaplains, ib. Upon his pe- 
 nitential vows and meditations at Holm- 
 by, 32.5. Upon the army's surprisal of the 
 king at Holmbv, 327. To the prince of 
 Wales, 328. Me"ditations on death, a32. 
 
 Eikonoclastes, Baron's preface to that tract, 
 271. The author's preface, 273. Reason 
 of calling it so, 275. 
 
 Elanius, reckoned in the number of ancient 
 British kings, 481. 
 
 Kldadus, 482. 
 
 Eldol, 482. 
 
 Eledaucus, 482. 
 
 Elfled, the sister of King Edward the elder, 
 her army of Mercians victorious against 
 the Welsh, .537. Takes Derby from the 
 Danes, ib. She dies at Tamworth, ,5.38. 
 
 Elf red, the son of King Ethelred, by Emma, 
 betrayed by Earl Godwin, and cruelly 
 made away by Harold, .5.52. 
 
 Elfwald, succeeding Ethelred in Northum- 
 berland, is rebelled against by two of his 
 noblemen, Osbald and Atheiheard, 526. 
 He is slain by the conspiracy of Siggan, 
 one of his nobles, ib. 
 
 Elf win, slain in a battle between his bro- 
 ther Ecfrid and Ethelred, 523. 
 
 Elidure, his noble demeanour towards his 
 deposed brother, 482. After Archigailo's 
 death, he resumes the government, ib. 
 
 Eliud, reckoned in the number of ancient 
 British kings, 482. 
 
 Elizabeth, Queen, against presbyterian 
 reformation, 450. 
 
 Ella, the Saxon, lands with his three sons, 
 and beats the Britons in two battles, 509. 
 He and his son Cissa take Andredchester, 
 in Kent, by force, ib. Begins his king- 
 dom of the'^South-Saxons, tb. 
 
 Ella, a king in Northumberland, .531. 
 
 Elmer, a monk of Malmsbury, fitted wings 
 to his hands and feet, with which he flew 
 more than a furlong, 559. 
 
 Elwold, nephew of Ethelwald, reigns king 
 of the East- Angles, after Aldulf, .528. 
 
 Embassador. See Ambassador, also French, 
 Spanish, #c. 
 
 Emeric, succeeds Otho in the kingdom of 
 Kent, 512. 
 
 Emma, the daughter of Richard, duke of 
 Normandy, married first to King Ethel- 
 red, .54.5. Afterwards to Canute, 550. Ba- 
 nished by her son-in-law Harold, she re- 
 tires to Flanders, and is entertained by 
 Earl Baldwin, 552. Her treasures seized 
 on by her son King Edward, 554. She 
 dies, and is buried at Winchester, 555. 
 A tradition concerning her questioned, ib. 
 
 Emperors, of Rome, their custom to wor- 
 ship the people, 363 
 
 England, history of, 475. 
 
 English nation, their pronunciation of the 
 vowels censured, 99. Its character, 115. 
 The wits of Britain preferred before the 
 French by Julius Agricola, ib. Had been 
 foremost in the Reformation, but tor the 
 perverseness of the prelates, ib. Have 
 leamt their vices under kingly govem- 
 5 
 
INDEX. 
 
 ment. 382. When they began to Imitate 
 Uie French in their manners, SS3. 'I'heir 
 effeminacy and dissoluteness made them 
 an easy prey to William the Conqueror, 
 aai. Their puttinK Charles the First to 
 death dereiided, 33s, 019. 
 
 EnglUkmen, to be trusted in the election 
 of pastors, as well as in that or kiii^flit:) 
 and burgesses, 17. Their noble achieve- 
 ments lessened by monks and mechanics, 
 43. 
 
 XHniaumuit, an ancient British king, de- 
 posed, 483. 
 
 Eorpwald, the son of Redwald, king of the 
 East-Angles, persuaded to Christianity 
 by Edwm, 518. He is slain in fight by 
 Rict>ert, a pagan, 519. 
 
 EpiphaniuM, his opinion of divorce, 314. 
 
 £pitcopnc]/, answers to several objections 
 relating to the inconveniences of abolish- 
 ing it, 18, 19. Insufficiency of testimonies 
 for it from antiquity, and the fathers, 22. 
 Not to be deduced from the apostolical 
 times. 2a A mere child of ceremony, 
 33. Not recommended to the Corinthians 
 bj' St Paul, as a remedv against schism, 
 38. See Prelacy, and Prelatical Episco- 
 pacy. 
 
 Era$myt, writes his treatise of divorce, for 
 the benefit of luigland, 174. 
 
 Erchenitin, said to be the erector of the 
 kingdom of the East-Saxons, 510. 
 
 Ercomberi, succeeds Eadbald in the king- 
 dom of Kent, 519. Orders the destroying 
 of idols, ib. The first establisher of Lent 
 here, ib. Is succeeded by his son Ecbert, 
 531. 
 
 Eric, see Iric. 
 
 Ermenred, thought to have had more right 
 to the kingdom than Ercombert, .519. 
 
 Errourt, of service to the attainment of 
 truth, 107. 
 
 Etctrin, and Kentwin, the nephew and son 
 of KinegU, said to have succeeded Ken- 
 walk in the government of the West- 
 Saxons, .522. Escwin joins battle with 
 Wulfer at Bedanhafde, ib. 
 
 Ettrildit, l)eloved by Locrine, 478. With 
 her daughter Sabra thrown into a river, 
 479. 
 
 Et/telbald, king of Mercia, ailer Ina, com- 
 mands all the provinces on this side 
 Humber, 534. He takes the town of 
 Somerton, ib. Fraudulently assaults 
 part of Northumberland in Eadbert's ab- 
 sence, Sl'i. His encounter at Beorford 
 with Cuthred the West-Saxon, ib. In a 
 fight at Secandune is slain, ib. 
 
 Eihelbald, and Ethelbcrt, share the English 
 Saxon kingdom between them after their 
 father Ethelwolf, .531. Ethelbald marries 
 Judith his father's widow, ib. Is buried 
 at Sherbum, ib. 
 
 Ethelbert, succeeds Emeric in the kingdom 
 of Kent, 512. He is defeated at Wibban- 
 dun by Keaulin and his son Cutha, ib. 
 Enlarges his dominions from Kent to 
 Humber, 514. Civilly receives Austin 
 and his fellow preachers of the gospel, ib. 
 Is himself baptized, 51.5. Moved by Aus- 
 tin, he builds .St. Peter's church in Can- 
 terbury, and endows it, ib. He builds 
 and endows St Paul's church in London, 
 and the cathedral at Rochester, ib. His 
 death, 516. 
 
 Ethelbert, Eadbert, and Alric, succeed their 
 father Victred, in the kingdom of Kent, 
 
 Ethelbert, or Pren. See Eadbright. 
 
 Ethelbert, the son of Ethelwolf, enjoys the 
 whole kingdom to himself, .531. Durintr 
 his reign, the Danes waste Kent, t*. Is 
 buried with his brotlier at Sherbum, 
 
 Ethel/rid. succeeds Ethelric in the kingdom 
 of Northumberland. 514. He wastes the 
 Britons, 51.5. Overthrows Wan, king of 
 ScoU, ib. In a battle at Westchester, 
 slays above 1200 monks, 518. 
 
 Elhr.lmund, and Weolstan, in a fight be- 
 tween tlie Worcestershire men and Wilt- 
 shire men, slain, .527. 
 
 r.ihrired, succeeding his brother Wolfer in 
 tin- kiiitrdom of Mercia, recovers Lindsev. 
 and other parts, 522. Invades the king- 
 dom of Kent t*. A sore battle between 
 him and Ecftid the Northumbrian. 523. 
 After the violent death of his queen, he 
 ncbanges bis crown for a monk's cowl, 
 to. 
 
 Bkelred, the son of Mollo, the usurper Al- 
 CTed being Ibrsaken by the Northum- 
 nrtaM ahddeposed, crowned in his stead, 
 aw. Having caused three of his noblemen 
 
 to be treacherously slain, is driven into 
 banishment «*. Alter ten years' banish- 
 ment restored again, ib. rie cruelly and 
 treacherously puts to death Oelf and 
 Oelfwin, the sons of Elfwald, formerly 
 king, ib. And afterwards Osred, who, 
 though shaven a monk, attempted a^ain 
 upon the kingdom, ib. He marries Klfled 
 the daughter of Ofl'a, 527. And is mise- 
 rably slain by his people, ib. 
 
 Ethelred, the son of Eandred, driven out in 
 his 4th year, 530. Is reinstated, but 
 slain the 4th vear after, ib. 
 
 Ethelred, the third son of Ethelwolf, the 
 third monarch of the English-Saxons, in- 
 fested with fresh invasions of the Danes, 
 .532. He flk'hts several great battles with 
 them, ib. 531 He dies in the 5th year of 
 his reign, and is buried at Winburn, 533. 
 
 Ethelred, the son of Edgar by Elfrida, 
 crowned at Kingston, .543. Dunstan at 
 his baptism presages ill of his future 
 reign, .544. New invasions of the Danes, 
 and great spoils committed by them In 
 his reign, ib. &c. Being reduced to straits 
 by the Danes, he retires into Normandy, 
 .547. Is recalled by his people, and joy- 
 fully received, 548. Drives Canute the 
 Dane back to his ships, ib. He dies at 
 London, 549. 
 
 Ethelric, expels Edwin the son of Alia out 
 of the kiuRdom of Deira, 513. 
 
 Ethehcald, the son of Oswald, taking part 
 with the Mercians, withdraws his forces 
 from the field, 521. 
 
 Ethelwnld, succeeds Edelhere in the king- 
 dom of the East- Angles, .521. 
 
 Ethelirnld, surnamed Mollo, set up king of 
 the Northumbrians in the room of Os- 
 wulf. 525. He slays in battle Oswin, but 
 is set upon by Alcred, who assumes his 
 place, ib. 
 
 Ethelwolf, the second monarch of the Eng- 
 lish Saxons, of a mild nature, not war- 
 like, or ambitious, .530. He with his son 
 Ethelbald gives the Danes a total defeat 
 at Ak-Lea, or Oat- Lea, ib. Dedicates the 
 tenth of his whole kingdom towards the 
 maintenance of masses and psalms for his 
 success against the Danes, ib. Goes to 
 Rome with his son Alfred, ib. Marries 
 Judith the daughter of Charles the Bald 
 of France, 531. He is driven by a con- 
 spiracy to consign half his kingdom to 
 his son Ethelbald, ib. Dies and is buried 
 at Winchester, ib. 
 
 Ethelwolf, earl of Berkshire, obtains a vic- 
 tory against the Danes at Englefield, 532. 
 In another battle is slain himself, ib. 
 
 Ethildrith, wife of Ecfrid, turns nun, and 
 made abbess of Ely, 523. 
 
 Ethiopians, their manner of punishing 
 criminals, 379. 
 
 Eumerus attempts to assassinate King Ed- 
 win, 517. Is put to death, ib. 
 
 Euripides, introduces Theseus king of 
 Athens speaking for the liberty of the 
 people, 385. 
 
 Eusebius, thought it difficult to tell who 
 were appointed bishops by the apostles, 
 23. His account of Papias, and his in- 
 fecting Gunaeus and other ecclesiastical 
 writers with his errors, 25. 
 
 Eustace, count of Boloign, revenging the 
 death of one of his servants, is set upon 
 by the citirens of Canterbury, 555. He 
 complains to King Edward, who takes 
 his part against tlie Canterburians, and 
 commands Earl Godwin against them, 
 but in vain, ib. 
 
 Excommunication, the proper use and de- 
 sign of it, 19. Left to the church as a 
 rough and cleansing medicine, 51. 
 
 Exhortation, to settle the pure worship of 
 God in his church, and justice in the 
 state, 17. 
 
 Factor for religion, his business, 113. 
 
 Fhqanus and Deruvianus said to have 
 preached the gospel here, and to have 
 converted almost tlie whole island, 490. 
 
 Fagius Paulas, his opinion concerning 
 flivorce, 155. Testimonies of learned 
 men concerning him, IfiO. In the same 
 sentiments with the author as to divorce, 
 162. Agrees with Martin Bucer, 217. 
 
 Fhmine, discord, and civil commotions 
 among the Britons. .50.5. Swane driven 
 by famine out of the^land, 546. 
 
 Fashions, of the Romans imitated by the 
 Britons, a secret art to prepare them for 
 bondage, 4M. 
 
 Fathers, primitive, in what manner they 
 interpreted the words of Christ concern- 
 ing divorce, 21'2, &c. 
 
 FauKtus, incestuously bom of Vortimer 
 and his daughter, lives a devo«t life in 
 Glamorganshire, .508. 
 
 Fencing and wrestling recommended to 
 youth, 101. 
 
 Ferdinand II., grand duke of Tuscany, let- 
 ters from the English republic to him, 
 592, 596, 598, 599. From Oliver, 635, 628, 
 631. 
 
 Fergus, king of Scots, said to be slain by 
 the joint forces of the Britons and the 
 Romans, 504. 
 
 Ferrex, the son of Gorbogudo, slain in fight 
 by his brother Porrex, 480. 
 
 Flaccus, the printer, account of him, 923. 
 
 Flattery, o<lious and contemptible to a gene- 
 rous spirit, .5.52. 
 
 Fletcher, Dr. Giles, ambassador from Queen 
 Elizabeth to Russia, 581. 
 
 Forms of Prayer, not to be imposed, 93. 
 
 Fhrnication, what it is, 152. 153. A lawful 
 cause of divorce, 152. Why our Saviour 
 uses this word, 153. The Greek deficient 
 in explaining it 205. To understand 
 rightly what it means, we should have 
 recourse to the Hebrew, ib. 
 
 Fortescue, his saying of a king of England, 
 401. Quotation from his Laud. Leg. Ang. 
 402. 
 
 France, see Lewis, king of. 
 
 Prancus, named among the four sons of 
 Histion, sprung of Japhet and from him 
 the Francs said to be derived. 476. 
 
 Frederic III., king of Denmark, letters to 
 him from the council of state, .595, 599 
 From Oliver, 609, 612, 621. From the 
 parliament restored, 6.37. 
 
 Frederic, prince, heirof Norway, &c, letter 
 from the council of state to him, 600. 
 From Oliver, 625. 
 
 Freedom of writing, the good consequences 
 of it 57. Not allowed while the prelates 
 had power to prevent it 85. See Li- 
 censing. 
 
 Frenc/i, "accordiner to Hottoman, at the first 
 institution of kingship, reserved a power 
 of choosing and deposing their prince.s, 
 374 Their manners and language when 
 introduced into England, .5.55. 
 
 French ambassador, Oliver's letter to the, 
 626. 
 
 Friars, dying men persuaded by them to 
 leave their effects to the church, 65. 
 
 Fulgenius, reckoned among the ancient 
 British kings, 4S2. The commander in 
 chief of the Caledonians against Septi- 
 mius Severus, so called by Geoffrey of 
 Monmouth, 493. 
 
 Galgacus, heads the Britons against Julius 
 Agricola, 495. 
 
 Galileo, imprisoned by the inquisition, for 
 his notions in astronomy, 112, 113. 
 
 Garden and Gardener, an allegorical story 
 applied to the prelates, 69. 
 
 Genesis ii. 24. explained, 183. 
 
 Geneva, Oliver's letter to the consuls and 
 senators of that city. 610. 
 
 Gentry, reason of their espousing prelates, 
 53. 
 
 Geography, its study both profitable and 
 delightful. 567. 
 
 Germanus, in a public disputation at Veru- 
 1am, silences the chief of the Pelagians, 
 505. He is entreated by the Britons to 
 head them against the Picts and Saxons, 
 ib. He gains the victory by a religious 
 stratagem, ib. His death, .506. 
 
 Gerontius, a Briton, by his valour advances 
 the success of (^onstantine the usurper in 
 France and Spain. .501. Displaced by 
 him, he calls in the Vandals against 
 him, ib. Deserted by his soldiers, de- 
 fends himself valiantlv with the slaugh- 
 ter of 300 of his enemies, ib. He kills his 
 wife Nonnichia, refusing to outlive him, 
 ib. Kills himself, t*. 
 
 Geruntius, the son of Elidure, not his im- 
 mediate successor, 482. 
 
 Gildas, his account of the Britons electing 
 and deposing their kings, IV. His bad 
 character of the Britons, 499, 506. After 
 two eminent successes, 512. 
 
 Gill, Alexander, letters to, 950, 951. 
 
 Godwin, earl of Kent and the West-Saxons, 
 stand for Hardimute, .5.52. He betrays 
 prince Elfred to Harold, ib. Being called 
 to account by Hardicnute. appeases him 
 with a very rich present, 553. Eamestly 
 
INDEX. 
 
 exhorts Edward to take upon him the 
 crown of England, ib. Marries his daugh- 
 ter to King Edward, .5.54. Raises forces 
 in opposition to the French whom the 
 king flavoured, 53.5. Is banished, ib. He 
 and his sons grow formidable, .5.56 
 Coming up to London with his ships, a 
 reconciliation is suddenly made between 
 him and the king, ib. Sitting with the 
 king at table, he suddenly sinks down 
 dead, ib. 
 
 Corner, the eldest son of Japhet, believed 
 the first that peopled these west and 
 northern climes, 476. 
 
 Gonorill, gai'ns upon her father King Leir, 
 by dissimulation, 479. Is married to 
 Maglaunus duke of Albania, 480. Her 
 ingratitude to her father, ib. 
 
 Gorbogudo, or Gorbodego, succeeds Kin- 
 marcus in the kingdom, 4.S0. 
 
 Gorbonian, succeeds Morindus in the king- 
 dom, 481. His justice and piety, i6. 
 
 Gospel, more favourable than the law, 139. 
 Imposes no subjection to tyranny, 358, 
 &c. Not contrary to reason and the law 
 of nations, 381. 
 
 Government, the reasons of its first esta- 
 blishment, 233. Kingly, the consequences 
 of readmitting it, 279. 
 
 Grammar, Latin, what it is, 457. 
 
 Gratianus Fnnarius, the father of Valen- 
 tinian, commander inchief of the Roman 
 armies in Britain, 499. 
 
 Gregory, archdeacon of Rome, and after- 
 ward pope, procures the sending over of 
 abbot Austm and others to preach the 
 gospel to the Saxons in this island, 514. 
 
 Griffin, prince of South Wales, committing 
 great spoil in Hereford, is pursued by 
 Harold earl of Kent, 5.57. After a peace 
 concluded he breaks his faith, and re- 
 turns to hostility, ib. Is again reduced, 
 t*. Harold brings the Welsh to sub- 
 mission, ib. Lurking about the country, 
 he is taken and slain by Griffin, prince of 
 North Wales, ib. 
 
 Griffith, Dr. brief notes on his sermon, 4.53, 
 &c. Moves to be admitted phy.sician to 
 church and state, 45.3. His address to 
 the general, ib. compared to Dr. Man- 
 waring, 454. His geographical and his- 
 torical mistakes, 4,5,5. 
 
 Grotius, his observations concerning di- 
 vorce, 150, 152. His opinion concerning 
 it, 219. 
 
 Guendolen, the daughter of Corineus, is 
 married to Locrine the son of Brutus, 
 478. Being divorced by him, gives him 
 battle, wherein he is slain, 479. Causes 
 Estrildis, whom Locrine had married, to 
 be thrown into a river with her daughter 
 Sabra, ib. Governs 15 years for her son 
 Madan, ib. 
 
 Gueniver, the wife of Arthur, kept from 
 him in the town of Glaston, by Melvas 
 a British king, 511. 
 
 Guiderius. said to have been the son of 
 Cunobeline, and slain in a battle against 
 Claudius, 489. 
 
 Guitheline, succeeds his father Gurguntius 
 Barbirus in the kingdom, 481. 
 
 Gunhildis, the sister of Swane, with her 
 husband Earl Palingus, and her young 
 son, cruelly murdered, 545. 
 
 Guorangonu's, a king of Kent, before it was 
 given to the Saxons, .507. 
 
 Guortimer, the son of Vortigern, endeavours 
 to drive out the Saxons, 508. His suc- 
 cess against them, ib. Dying he com- 
 mands his bones to be buried in the port 
 of Stonar, ib. 
 
 Gurguntiu.t Harbirua, succeeds Belinus in 
 the kingdom, overcomes the Dane, and 
 gives encouragement to Bartholinus a 
 Spaniard to settle a plantation in Ireland, 
 481. Another ancient British king named 
 Gurguntius, 482. 
 
 Ci/r^i(*(t«s, succeeds Rivallo in the king- 
 dom, 480. 
 
 Gyrtha, son of Earl Godwin, accompanies 
 his father into Flanders, together with 
 his brothers Tosti and Swane, .5.5.5. His 
 noble advice to his brother Harold as he 
 was ready to give battle to Duke William 
 of Normandy. .560. Is slain in the battle, 
 with his brother Harold and Leofwin, 
 ib. 
 
 Gytro, or Gothrun, a Danish king, baptized 
 "by the name of Athelstan, and received 
 out of the font by Kinsr Alfred, 534. The 
 kingdom of the East-Angles said to be 
 bestowed on him to hold of Alfred, ib. 
 
 H 
 
 Hamborough, letters to the senate of that 
 city, 587, .588, 590, .592, .595, 630, 624, 62.5. 
 
 Hanse Towns, letter to them from the 
 English commonwealth, .595. 
 
 Har/licnute, the son of Canute by Emma, 
 called over from Bruges, and receive ' as 
 king, .5.53. He calls Godwin and others 
 to account about the death of Elfred, ib. 
 Enraged at the citizens of Worcester for 
 killing his tax-gatherers, he sends an 
 army against them, and bums the city, 
 ib. Kindly receives and entertains his 
 half-brother Edward, ib. Eating and 
 drinking hard at a feast, he dies, and is 
 buried at Winchester, ib. Was a great 
 epicure, ib. 
 
 Hardnens of heart, permitted to wicked 
 men, 202. 
 
 Harold, sumamed Harefoot, the son of 
 Canute, elected king bv Duke Leofric 
 and the Mercians, .5.52. He banishes his 
 mother-in-law Emma, ib. His perfidious- 
 ness and cruelty towards Elfred the son 
 of Ethel fl-ed, ib. He dies, and is buried 
 at Winchester, .5.53. 
 
 Harold, son of Godwin, made earl of Kent, 
 and sent against prince Griffin of Wales, 
 .5.57. He reduces him at last to the ut- 
 most extremity, ib. Being cast upon the 
 coast of Normandy, and brought to Duke 
 William, he promises his endeavours to 
 make him king of England, 5.58. He takes 
 the crown himself, .5.59. Puts oil" Duke 
 William, demanding it, with a slighting 
 answer, ib. Is invaded by his brother 
 Tosti, ib. By Harold Harfager, king of 
 Norway, whom he utterly overthrows 
 and slays, together with "Tosti, ib. Is 
 invaded by Duke William of Normandy, 
 .560 Is overthrown at the battle of Hast- 
 ings, and slain together with his two 
 brothers Leofwin and (Jyrtha, ib. 
 
 Hartlib, Mr. tract of education addressed 
 to him, 98. 
 
 Hay ward, his account of the liturgy in 
 Eldward VI.'s time, 59. 
 
 Heimbach, Peter, letters to, 959, 963. 
 
 Heli, an ancient British king, 482. 
 
 Help-meet, the meaning of that word, 182. 
 
 Helrius, Pertinax, succeeds Ulpius Mar- 
 cellus in the government of Britain, 497. 
 
 Hemingiux, his definition of marriage, 186. 
 His opinion concerning divorce, 218. 
 
 Henqist and Horsa, with an army, land in 
 the Isle of Thanet, .507. Hengist gains 
 advantages of Vortigern, by marrying 
 his dauehter to him, ib. Takes on him 
 the kinslv title, .508. His several battles 
 against the Britons, ib. 509. His treache- 
 rous slaughter of three hundred British 
 grandees under pretence of treaty, .509. 
 His death, ib. His race ends with Alric, 
 .527. 
 
 Henninwt, duke of Cornwal, marries Re- 
 gan, daughter of King Leir, 480. 
 
 Henry I[., reigned together with his son, 
 303." 
 
 Henry VIII., on what account he began 
 the reformation in this kingdom. 1.56. 
 
 Herebert, a Saxon earl, slain with most 
 part of his army, by the Danes, at Mere- 
 swar, .530. 
 
 Heresy, according to the Greek, not a word 
 of evil note, 415. The word explained, ib. 
 
 Heresy, or false religion, defined, 562. 
 Popery the greatest heresy, ib. 
 
 Heretic, an idolatrous one ought to be di- 
 vorced, after a convenient space allowed 
 for conversion, 130. He who follows the 
 Scripture, to the best of his knowledge, 
 no heretic, 41.5. Who properly one, ib. 
 
 Herod, a great zealot for the Mosaic law, 
 206. Taxed of injustice by our Saviour, 
 3-58. 
 
 Herod and Herodias, the story of them 
 from Josephus, 196. 
 
 Herodotus, his account of the behaviour of 
 the Egyptians to their kings, 378. 
 
 Hertford, built or repaired by King Ed- 
 ward, the son of Alfred, 537. 
 
 Hesse. William, Landgrave of, Oliver's 
 letter to him, 622. 
 
 Heth, Richard, 9.57. 
 
 Heu-ald, two priests of that name, cruelly 
 butchered by the Saxons, whom they 
 went to convert, .523. 
 
 Hierarchy, as dangerous to the crown as a 
 tetrarchv, or heptarchy, 16. 
 
 Hinguar and Hubba, two Danish brethren, 
 how they got footing by degrees in Eng- 
 land, 532. 
 
 Hirelings, the likeliest means to remove 
 them out of the church, 424, &c. Judas 
 the first, Simon Magus the next hireling, 
 425. How to be discovered, 4.36. Soon 
 frame themselves to the opinions of their 
 paymasters, 437. Are the cause of athe- 
 ism, ib. 
 
 Histion, said to be descended of Japhet, 
 and to have had four sons who peopled 
 the greatest part of Europe, 476. 
 
 Historians, English, defective, obscure, 
 and fabulous, 524. 
 
 History, remarks on writing, 961. 
 
 Holland, states of, abjured obedience to 
 King Philip of Spain, 238. Letters from 
 Oliver to, 619, 627. 
 
 Holstein, Luke, letter to, 954. 
 
 Honorius, the emperor, sends aid twice to 
 the Britons, against their northern in- 
 vaders, .504. 
 
 Horsa, the brother of Hengist, slain in the 
 Saxons' war against the Britons, .5(8. His 
 burial-place gave name to Horsted, a 
 town in Kent, ib. 
 
 Horsey, Jerom, agent in Russia, ,580. 
 
 Hotham, Sir John, proclaimed a traitor by 
 King Charles, 294. Vindicated by the 
 parliament, ib. The king's remarks on 
 his fatal end, 295. 
 
 Hull, reasons for the parliament's securing 
 that place, 294. Petition to remove that 
 magazme to London, ib. 
 
 Hiimbeanna and Albert, said by some to 
 have shared the kingdom of the East- 
 Angles, after one Elfwald, .528. 
 
 Humber river, whence named, 478 
 
 Hus and Luther, the reformers before them 
 called the Poor Men of Lyons, 431. 
 
 Husband, or wife, whether at liberty to 
 marry again, 172. 
 
 Jago, or Lago, succeeds his uncle Gurgus- 
 tius in the kingdom, 480. 
 
 James I., his behaviour after the powder- 
 plot, 307. Compared with Solomon, 3.57. 
 
 fcenians, and Trinobantes, rise up in arms 
 against the Romans, 492. 
 
 Jda, the Saxon, begins the kingdom of 
 Bernicia in Northumberland, 511. 
 
 Idwallo, learns by his brother's ill success 
 to rule well, 482. 
 
 Idolatry, brought the heathen to heinous 
 transgressions, .566. 
 
 Idols, according to the papists, great means 
 to stir up pious thoughts and devotion, 
 564. 
 
 Jeroboam's episcopacy, a particoloured and 
 party-memberea one, 35. 
 
 Jerome, St. his opinion, that custom only 
 was the maker of prelaty, 36. Anselm of 
 Canterbury, of the same opinion, ib. 
 Said to be whipped by the devil for read- 
 ing Cicero, 107. His behaviour in rela- 
 tion to Fabiola, 166. His explanation of 
 Matth. xix. 214 
 
 Jeu-s, had no more right than Christians to 
 a dispensation of the law relating to di- 
 vorce, 142. Did not learn the custom of 
 divorce in Egypt, 199. Their behaviour 
 to their kings, 368, &c. 
 
 Ignatius, epistles attributed to him, full of 
 "corruptions, 24. Directs honouring the 
 bishop before the king, ib. His opmion 
 no warrant for the superiority of bishops 
 over presbyters, 28. 
 
 Ignorance and ecclesiastical thraldom, cau- 
 tion against them, 174. 
 
 Immanuel, duke of Savoy, Oliver's letter to 
 him in favour of his protestant subjects, 
 606. 
 
 Immanuentius, slain by Cassibelan,487. 
 
 Immin, Eaba, and Eadbert, noblemen of 
 Mercia, throw off Oswi, and set up Wol- 
 fer, ,521. 
 
 Imprimaturs, the number of them neces- 
 sary for the publication of a book where 
 the inquisition is established, 106. 
 
 Ina, succeeds Kedwalla in the kingdom of 
 the West-Saxons, 52:i Marches into Kent 
 to demand satisfaction for the burning of 
 Mollo, ib. Is pacified by Victred with a 
 sum of money, and the delivering up of 
 the accessories, ib. Vanquishes Gerent, 
 king of Wales, ib. Slays Kenwulf and 
 Albright, and vanquishes the East- Angles, 
 .524. Dies at Rome, ib. 
 
 Independents, their tenets, 342. Commend- 
 ed for their firmness, 404 Reflected on 
 by Salmasius, ib. Their superiority over 
 the other parties, 9.37. 
 
 Inniaunus, deposed for his ill courses, 482. 
 7 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Job, thf book of, a brief model of the epic 
 poem, 43. 
 
 John, ttie Baptist, in what sense called an 
 angel. 68. 
 
 Joh», King, why deposed by his baronsi, 
 263. 
 
 John III., elected king of Portugal, his en- 
 comiuni, Ufa 
 
 John IV., king of Portufral, letters to him, 
 complaining of the taking and plundering 
 En^'lish vessels, .W9. ("omplimented by 
 the council of state for favours received 
 from him, SSfy. Letters to him from Oli- 
 ver. 612. 614. 617. 619, 630, 633. From 
 Richard the protector, 636. 
 
 John PhiUipi ; his answer to the anony- 
 mous apology for the king and people, 
 Latin. 763. 
 
 Jonet. ('olonel Michael, his letter to the 
 earl of Onnond, 2». 
 
 Jone; RichanI, letters to,939. 960, «Wi, 963. 
 
 Joteph of .Arimathea, said to have first 
 preached the christian faith in tins island, 
 496. 
 
 Joiephut, his opinion that aristocracy is 
 the best form of government. 348. 
 
 Jovinut sent deputy into this island by the 
 emperor V'alentiiiian, .500. 
 
 Irrland inhabitfd and named Scotia by the 
 Scots, l>elbre the north of Britain had that 
 name, 500. 
 
 Jremrus, cited to prove that Polycarp was 
 made bishop of Smyrna by the apostles, 
 S». His testimony, "when a"bov, concern- 
 ing bishops, as a superior order to pres- 
 byters, not to be regarded, ib. His ab- 
 surd notions of Eve and the Virgin Mary, 
 ib. If the patron of episcopacy to us, lie 
 is the patron of idolatry to the papists, ib. 
 
 Jric, a Dane, made earl of Northumber- 
 land, 5.50. He is said by some to have 
 made war against Malcolm, king of Scots, 
 ib. His greatness suspected by Canute, 
 he is banished the realm, 551. 
 
 Jmiigments. for what cause sent, unknown 
 to man, 327. 
 
 Julian, the apostate, forbad Christians the 
 study of heathen learning, 107. 
 
 Juliu* j4gricola, the emperor's lieutenant 
 in Britain, almost extirpates the Ordo- 
 vices, 4S3 Finishes the conquest of the 
 Isle of Mona, ib. His justice and pru- 
 dence in government, ib. He brings the 
 Britons to civilitv, arts, and an imitation 
 of the Roman fashions, 494. He receives 
 triumphal honours from Titus, ib. He 
 extends his conquests to Scotland, sut>- 
 dues the Orcades and other Scotch 
 islands, ib. In several conflicts, comes 
 off victorious. 495. He is commanded 
 home by Domitian,496. 
 
 Juliu* Cxiar, has intelligence that the 
 Britons are aiding to his enemies the 
 Gauls, 483. He sends Caius Volusenus 
 to discover the nature of the people, anil 
 strength of the countr>'. 4^. After him 
 Comius of .Arras, to make a party among 
 the Britons, ib. The stout resistance he 
 meets with from them at his landinsr, t*. 
 He receives terms of tteace from them, 
 ib. Loses a great part of his fleet, 4S5. 
 Defeats the Britons, brings them anew to 
 terms of peace, and sets sail for Belgia, 
 ib. The year following he lands his 
 army again, ib. He has a very sharp 
 dispute with the Britons near the Stowre, 
 in Kent, 4S6. Passes the Thames at 
 Coway stakes, near Oatlands, ib. He 
 receives terms of peace from the Trino- 
 bantes. 487. He brings Ca.ssibelan to 
 terms i*. He leaves the island, t6 OtTers 
 to Venus, the patroness of his familv. a 
 corslet of British pearls, ib. The killing 
 him approved of by the best men of that 
 age, 382. 
 
 Juliu* Prontinu*. the emperor's lieutenant 
 in Britain. 493. Tames the Silures, a 
 warlike p<»ple. ib. 
 
 Juliun .Severu*, ;.ovem3 Britain under Ha- 
 drian the emiHTor, 4»fi. Divides his 
 couciuests here by a wall eighty miles 
 long, as his usual manner was in other 
 frontiers, ib 
 
 Julius of Caerleon, a British martyr under 
 Dioclesian. 499. 
 
 Juniut, his wrong interpretation of a text. 
 
 Jure, Thomas, Milton's tutor, letters to, 
 930, ftji. 
 
 Juriniiiciion, in the church, most truly 
 iirnncd ecclesiastical censure, 47. The 
 n^tiin- and design of it, 6a 
 
 Ju*ttcr. how perverted bv a train of cor- 
 ruptions, 296. Above afl other things the 
 
 strongest, 333. Not in the king's power 
 to deny it to any man. ."SH 
 
 JuHtin Afariyr, his story of a Roman ma- 
 tron. 21.3. 
 
 Justin, the historian, his account of the 
 original of government. 391. 
 
 Juttinian't law, the three general doctrines 
 of it, 190. 
 
 K 
 
 Kearle, surrenders the kingdom of Mercia 
 to his kinsman Penda. 5ia 
 
 Keaulin, succeeds his father Kenric, in the 
 kingdom of the West-Saxons, 512. He 
 and his son (Juthin slay three British 
 kings at Deorham, 513. (Jives the Britons 
 a very irreat rout at Fethanleage, ib. 
 Routed by the Britons at Wodensbeorth, 
 and chased out of his kingdom, dies in 
 povertv, ib. 514. 
 
 KedwuHay, or Carlwallon, a British king. 
 Joining with Penda the Mercian, slays 
 Edwin in battle. 519. 
 
 Ked walla, a West-Saxon prince, returned 
 from banishment, slays in fight Edelwalk, 
 the South-Saxon, and after that Edric his 
 successor, 522. Going to the Isle of 
 Wight, he devotes the fourth part thereof 
 to holy uses, ib. The sons of Arwald, 
 king of that isle, slain by his order, i4. 
 He hara.sses the country of the South- 
 Saxons, ib. Is repelled by the Kentish 
 men, ib. Yet revenges the death of his 
 brother Mollo, ib. Going to Rome to be 
 baptized, he dies there about five weeks 
 after his baptism, .52.'?. 
 
 Kelred, the son of Ethelred, succeeds Ken- 
 red in the Mercian kingdom, .5-23. Pos- 
 sessed with an evil spirit, dies in despair, 
 524. 
 
 Kehculf, reigns king of the West-Saxons 
 after Keola, 515. Makes war upon the 
 South-Saxons, 516. Leaves the kingdom 
 to his brother's sons, ib. 
 
 Kelwulf, adopted by Osric the Northum- 
 brian, to be his successor in the kingdom, 
 524 Becomes a monk in Lindi.sfame, ib. 
 
 Kened, king of the Scots, does high honour 
 to King Edgar, 542. Receives great 
 favours from him, ib. Is challenged by 
 him upon some words let fall, but soon 
 pacifies him, ib. 
 
 Kenelm, succeeding in the kingdom of 
 Mercia, is murdered by order of nis sister 
 Quendrid, 52a 
 
 Kenred, the son of Wulfer, succeeds Ethel- 
 red in the Mercian kingdom, 5-23. He 
 goes to Rome, and is there shorn a monk, 
 ib. Another Kenred succeeds in the 
 kingdom of Northumberland, .524. 
 
 Kenric, the son of Kerdic, overthrows the 
 Britons that oppose him, .509 Kills and 
 puts to flight many of the Britons at 
 Searesbirig, now Salisbury, 512. After- 
 ward at Beranvirig, now Banbury, ib. 
 
 Kenhrin, a West-Saxon king, chases the 
 Welsh Britons to the sea-shore, .522. 
 
 Kenulf, has the kingdom of Mercia be- 
 queathed him by Ecferth, 527. He leaves 
 behind him the praise of a virtuous reign, 
 .52S. 
 
 Kenwalk, succeeds his father Kinegils in 
 the kingdom of the West-Saxons, .520. 
 He is said to have discomfited the Britons 
 at Pen, in Somersetshire, ,521. And giving 
 battle to Wulfer, to have taken him 
 prisoner, ib. Leaves the government to 
 Sexburga his wife, .522. 
 
 Kenwulf, entitled Clito, slain by Ina the 
 West-Saxon. 524. 
 
 Kenwulf king of the West-Saxons. See 
 Kinxculf. 
 
 AVo/fl, the son ofCuthulf, succeeds his uncle 
 Keaulin in the West-Saxon kingdom, 
 .514. 
 
 Keolwulf, the brother of Kenulf, the Mer- 
 cian, after one years reign driven out by 
 Benmlf, a usurper, .528. 
 
 Kearle, overthrows the Danes at Wiggan- 
 beorch, .530. 
 
 Kerdic, a Saxon prince, lands at Kerdic- 
 shore, and overtnrows the Britons, .509. 
 Defeats their king Nataiileod in a memo- 
 rable battle, 510. Founds the kingdom 
 of the West-Saxons, ib. He overthrows 
 the Britons twice at Kerdic's Ford, and 
 at Kerdic's Leage, ib. 
 
 Kimanin, reckoned among the ancient 
 British kings, 481. 
 
 Kine.qiU and Cuichelm, succeed Kelwulf 
 in ihe kingdom of the West-Snxons, 516. 
 They make truce with Penda the Mer- 
 cian, 9ia Are converted to the christian 
 
 faith, 519. Kinegils leaves his son Ken> 
 
 walk to succeed, 520. 
 
 King, his state and person likened to Sam- 
 son, 54. 
 
 Kim/ and a tyrant, the difference between 
 them, 401, 921, 92^ 
 
 King of England, what actually makes one, 
 2.'S. Has two superiors, the law and his 
 court of parliament, 2JK. As he can do 
 no wrong, so neither can he do right but 
 in his courts, :J02. 
 
 Kings and Magistrates, tenure of, 231. 
 
 Kings, to say they are accountable to none 
 but God, overturns all law and (roveni- 
 ment, 234. Their power originally con- 
 ferral on them, and chosen by the people, 
 tA. 235. Though strong in legions, yet 
 weak at argument.s, 274. Their office to 
 see to the execution of the laws, 2iM. 
 First created by the parliament, 3<)1 
 Examples of kings deposed by the primi- 
 tive British church, 334. Christ no friend 
 to the absolute power of kings, 358. 
 
 Kings, Hebrew ones, liable to be called in 
 question for their actions, 352. 
 
 Kings, Scottish, no less than fifty, impri- 
 soned or put to death, 38.'J. 
 
 Kings, turning monks, applauded by monk- 
 ish writers. ■'>%'}. 
 
 Kings-evil, by whom first cured, .5.58. 
 
 Kinmarcus, succeeds Sisilius in the king- 
 dom, 480. 
 
 Kinwulf or Kemrulf, (Sigebert being 
 thrown out, and slain by a swineherd.) 
 saluted king of the West-Saxons, 525. 
 Behaves himself valorously in several 
 battles against the Welsh, .526. Put to 
 the worst at Besington, by Offa the Mer- 
 cian, ib. Is routed and slain by Kineard, 
 whom he had commanded into banish- 
 ment, ib. 
 
 Knox, John, his deposing doctrine, 2.38, 268. 
 
 Kymbeline, or Cunobeline, the successor of 
 Tenuantius, said to be brought up in the 
 court of Augustus, 498 His chief seat 
 Camalodunum, or Maldon, ib. 
 
 Lacedemon, museless anrl unbookish, mind- 
 ed nothing but the feats of war, 105. 
 
 Lactanlius, his opinion of divorce, 213. 
 
 Laitg, by consent of many ancient prelates, 
 did participate in church ofliices, 49. 
 
 Language, its depravation portends the 
 ruin of a country, 953. 
 
 Laughter, the good properties of it, 84. 
 
 Law of God, agreeable to the law of nature, 
 375. 
 
 Law, cannot permit, much less enact, per- 
 mission of sin, 137. That given by Moses, 
 just and pure, 199. Law desfgned to 
 prevent not restrain sin. 200. Superior 
 to ETOvemors, 361. Nothing to hie ac- 
 counted law that is contrary to the law 
 of God, 397. 
 
 Laws, common and civil, should be set free 
 from the vassalage and copyhold of the 
 clergy, 18 The ignorance and iniquity 
 of the canon law, 127. 
 
 Lawyers, none in Russia, .570. 
 
 Laymen, the privilege of teaching anciently 
 permitted to them, 49. 
 
 Learning, what sort recommended to mi- 
 nisters, 436. 
 
 Learning and Artx, when began to flourish 
 among the Saxons, .521. 
 
 Ledn, marquis of, letter from the council of 
 .state to him, 602. 
 
 Leil, succeeds Brute Greenshield, and 
 builds Caerieil, 479. 
 
 Leir, King, his trial of his daughters' af- 
 fection, 479. Is restored to his ciown by 
 his daughter Cordeilla, 480. 
 
 Lent, its first establishment in Britain, 519. 
 
 Leo, emperor, his law concerning divorce, 
 215. 
 
 Leo of Aizema, letter to, 938. 
 
 Leaf a noted thief, kills King Edmund, 541. 
 Is hewed to pieces, ib. 
 
 Leofric, duke of Mercia, and Siward of 
 Northumberland, sent by Hardecnute 
 against the people of Worcester, .5.>3. By 
 their counsel King Edward seizes on the 
 treasures of his mother. Queen Emma, 
 .5-54. They raise forces for the king 
 against l-'arl Godwin, 55.5. Leofric's 
 death and character, .'»57. 
 
 Lfofwin, son of Earl (imlwin, after his 
 father's banishment, goes over with his 
 brother Harold into Ireland, .5.5.5 He and 
 Harold assist their father with a fleet 
 against King Edward, 556. He is slain 
 
INDEX. 
 
 with his brothers Harold and Girtha in 
 the battle against William duke of Nor- 
 mandy, .56f). 
 Leontius, bishop of Magnesia, his account 
 
 of bishops not to be depended on, tl. 23. 
 Leopold, archduke of Austria, letters to 
 him from the parliament, 589. From 
 Oliver, 633 
 Letters, familiar, from the author to his 
 friends, 9oO— 963. The same in Latin, 
 83t)— 842. 
 Letters of .State, in the name of the Parlia- 
 ment. 587, 637. The same in Latin, 777, 
 821. In the name of Oliver the Protector, 
 603. The same in Latin, 792. In the 
 name of Richard the Protector, 634. The 
 same in Latin, 819. 
 Lewis, king of France, Oliver's letters to 
 him, 608, 610, 613, 61.i, 619, 021, 029, 630, 
 631, a32. Letters to him from Richard the 
 Protector, 634, 636. 
 
 Liberty, fit only to be handled by just and 
 virtuous men, 30. True, what, 103. A 
 less number may counsel a greater to 
 retain their liberty, a.W. Can be pre- 
 served only by virtue, 94. 
 
 Liberty, Christian, not to be meddled with 
 by civil magistrates, 41.3, 417,419. 
 
 Libraries, public, recommended, 437. 
 
 Licensers, the inconveniences attending 
 their office. 110, 111. 
 
 Licensing, of books, crept out of the inqui- 
 sition, 104. Historical account of li- 
 censing, uy,, 106. Not to be exempted 
 from the number of vain and impossible 
 attempts, 108. Conduces nothing to the 
 end for which it was framed, 109. Not 
 able to restrain a weekly libel against 
 parliament and city, 110. Italy and Spain 
 not bettered by the licensing of books, 
 t*. The manifest hurt it does, 111, &c. 
 The ill consequences of it, and discou- 
 ragement to learning, 113. First put in 
 practice by antichristian malice and 
 mystery. 114. 
 
 Linceus, said to be the husband of one of 
 the feigned fifty daughters of Dioclesian, 
 king of Syria, 476. The only man saved 
 by his wife, when the rest of the fifty slew 
 their husbands, ib. 
 
 Litany, remarks on it, 94. 
 
 Liturt/y, confesses the service of God to be 
 pcrlect freedom, 53. Reflections on the 
 use ot it, ,59. Remarks on the arguments 
 brought in defence of it, 59—62. Detest- 
 ed as well as prelacy, 62. Reason of the 
 use of liturgies, ib. Arguments against 
 the use of them, 93. The inconveniences 
 of them, ib. Taken from the papal church, 
 94. Neither liturgy nor directory should 
 be imposed, 31.5. 
 
 Livu, praises the Romans for gaining their 
 liberty, 2.35 A good expositor of the 
 rights of Roman kings, .381. 
 
 Locrine, the eldest son of Brutus, has the 
 middle part of this island called Loegria 
 for his share in the kingdom, 478. 
 
 Logics, .Artis, plenior Institutio, 861. 
 
 Lollius llrbicus, draws a wall of turfs be- 
 tween the Frith of Dunbritton and Edin- 
 burgh, 496. 
 
 London, first called Troja Nova, afterward 
 Trinovantum, and said to be built by 
 Brutus, 478. Tower of, by whom built, 
 481. Enlarged, walled about, and named 
 from King Lud, 482. New named Au- 
 gusta, 500. With many of her inhabitants 
 by a sudden Are consumed, .527. Danes 
 winter there, .533. The city burnt, 544. 
 
 Loneliness, how indulgently God has pro- 
 vided against man's, 181, 182 
 
 Lothair, succeeds his brother Ecbert in the 
 kingdom of Kent, 522. Dies of wounds 
 received in battle against Edric, ib. 
 
 Love, produces knowledge and virtue, 81. 
 The son of Penury, begot of Plenty, 12a 
 How parabled by the ancients, ib. 
 
 Lubec, Oliver's letter to the senators and 
 consuls of that city, 6i). 
 
 Lucius, a king in some part of Britain, 
 thought the first of any king in Europe 
 who received the christian faith, 496. Is 
 made the second by descent from Marius, 
 ib. After a long reign buried at Glou- 
 cester, ib. 
 
 Lucifer, the first prelate angel, 32. 
 
 Lucretius, his Epicurism, published the 
 second time by Cicero, 105. 
 
 Lud, walls about Trinovant, and calls it 
 Caer-Lud, Lud's town, 482. 
 
 Ludgnte, whence named, 482. 
 
 Ludiken, the Mercian, going to avenge Ber- 
 nulf, is surprised by the East- Angles and 
 put to the sworr", 529. 
 
 Lupicinvs, sent over deputy into this island 
 
 by Julian the emperor, but soon recalled, 
 
 .500. 
 Lupus, bishop of Troves, assistant to Ger- 
 
 manus of Auxerre, in the reformation of 
 
 the British church, .50.5. 
 Luther, a monk, one of the first reformers, 
 
 74. His vehement writing against the 
 
 errors of the Roman church commended, 
 
 S4. 
 Lutherans, an error charged upon them, 
 
 Lycurgus, how he secured the cro^vn of 
 Lacedemon to his family, 387. Makes 
 the power of the people superior to that 
 of the king, 38.5. 
 
 M 
 
 Madan, succeeds his father Locrine, 479. 
 Magistrates, civil, to be obeyed as God's 
 vicegerents, 34. Should take care of the 
 public sports and festival pastimes, 44. 
 Their particular and general end, 48. 
 Tenure of, 231. Eireminate ones not fit 
 to goveni, 29.3. Not to use force in re- 
 ligious matters, 414, 41,5. 421. Reasons 
 against their so doing, 419. Should see 
 that conscience be not inwardly violated 
 421. 
 Miiglaunus, duke of Albania, marries Go- 
 
 norill eldest daughter of King Leir, 480. 
 Maglocune, sumamed the Island Dragon, 
 one of the five that reigned toward the 
 beginning of the Saxon heptarchy, 513. 
 His wicked character, ib. 
 Magus, son and successor of Samothes, 
 whom some fable to have been the first 
 peopler of this i.sland. 476. 
 Mnimonides, his dilTerence between the 
 
 kings of Israel and those of Judah, a52. 
 Malcolm, son of Kened king of Scots, falling 
 upon Northumberland, is utterly over- 
 thrown by Uthred, 549. Some say by 
 Iric, .550. 
 Malcolm, son of the Cumbrian king, made 
 king of Scotland in the room of Itfacbeth, 
 .V)6. 
 Malcolm, king of Scotland, coming to visit 
 King Edward, swears brotherhood with 
 Tosti the Northumbrian, .557. Afterward 
 in his absence harasses Northumber- 
 land, ib. 
 Mandubratius, son of Immanuentius, fa- 
 voured bv the Trinobantes against Cas- 
 sibelan, 487. 
 Manifesto of the lord protector of England, 
 &c. against the depredations of the Span- 
 iards, 638. In Latin, 823. 
 Marcus Aurelius, ready to lay down the 
 government, if the senate or people re- 
 quired it, .388. 
 Marganus, the son of Gonorill, deposes his 
 aunt Cordeilla, 480. Shares the Kingdom 
 with his cousin Cunedagius, invades 
 him, but is met and overcome by him, ib. 
 Marganus, the son of Archigallo, a good 
 
 king, 482. 
 Marinaro, a learned Carmelite, why re- 
 proved by Cardinal Pool, 19i. 
 Marius, the son of Arviragus, is said to 
 have overcome the Picts, and slain their 
 king Roderic, 496. 
 Marriage, not properly so, where the most 
 honest end is wanting, 126. The fulfilling 
 of conjugal love and happiness, rather 
 than the remedy of lust, 127. Love and 
 peace in families broke by a forced con- 
 tinuance of matrimony, 129. May en- 
 danger the life of either party, 134. Not 
 a mere carnal coition, 13.5. Compared 
 with other covenants broken for the good 
 of men, ib. No more a command than 
 divorce, 140. The words of the institu- 
 tion, how to be understood, 144. The 
 miseries in marriage to be laid on unjust 
 laws, 1.54. Different definitions of it, ia5 
 — 187. The grievance of the mind more 
 to be regarded in it than that of the body, 
 ib. Called the covenant of God, 190. 
 The ordering of it belongs to the civil 
 power, 164. Popes by fraud and force 
 have got this power, ib. Means of pre- 
 serving it holy and pure, 10)6. Allowed 
 bv the ancient fathers, even after the vow 
 of single life, 167. Christ intended to 
 make ho new laws relating to it, 168. 
 The properties of a true christian mar- 
 riage, 171. What crimes dissolve it, ib. 
 Expositions of the four chief places in 
 Scripture treating of, 175. A civil ordi- 
 nance or household contract, 431. The 
 solemnizing of it recovered by the par- 
 
 liament from the encroachment of priests, 
 ib. See Divorce. 
 Martia, wife oC King Guitheline, said to 
 have instituted the law called Marchen 
 Leage, 481. 
 Martin V., pope, the first that excommuni- 
 cated for reading heretical books, 105. 
 106. 
 Martinus, made deputy of the British pro- 
 vince, failing to kill Paulus, falls upon 
 his own sword, 499. 
 Martyr, Peter, his character of Martin 
 Bucer, 160. His opinion concerning di- 
 vorce, 217. 
 Martyrdom, the nature of it explained, 330. 
 Martyrs, not to be relied on, 87. 
 Mary, queen of Scots, her death compared 
 
 with King Charles's. 402. 
 Massacre of Paris, owing to the peace 
 made by the protestants with Charles 
 IX., 242. Irish, more than 200.000 pro- 
 testants murdered in it, 264. 
 Matrimony, nothing more disturbs the 
 whole life of a Christian than an unfit 
 one, 127. See .Marriage. 
 
 Multh. xix. 3, 4, &c. explained, 196. 
 
 Maximianus Herculeus, forced to conclude 
 a peace with Carausius, and yield him 
 Britain, 498. 
 
 Maximus, a Spaniard, usurping part of the 
 empire, is overcome at length and slain 
 by Theodosius, ,500. Maximus, a friend 
 of Gerontius, is by him set up in Spain 
 against Constantine the usurper, .501. 
 
 Mazarine, Cardinal, Oliver's letters to him, 
 609, 615, 6.30, 631, 632. Richard the Pro- 
 tector's, 6:i4, 636, 637. 
 
 Medina Cell, duke of, letter of thanks to 
 him for his civil treatment of the Eng- 
 lish fleet, .591. 
 
 Mellitus, Justus, and others, sent with Aus- 
 tin to the conversion of the Saxons, 51.5. 
 He converts the East-Saxons, ib. St. 
 Paul's church in London built for his 
 cathedral by Ethelred, as that of Roches- 
 ter for Justus, ib. 
 
 Mempricius, one of Brutus's council, per- 
 suades him to hasten out of Greece, 477. 
 
 Mempricius and Malim, succeed their father 
 Madan in the kingdom, 479. Mempricius 
 treacherously slays his brother, gets sole 
 possession of the kingdom, reigns tyran- 
 nically, and is at last devoured by wolves, 
 ib. 
 
 Mercia, kingdom of, first founded by Crida, 
 513. 
 
 Mercian laws, by whom instituted, 481. 
 
 Merianus, an ancient British king, 482. 
 
 Micah, his lamentation for the loss of his 
 gods. &c. 324, 32.5. 
 
 Jifilitary skill, its excellence consists in 
 readiiv submitting to commanders' or- 
 ders, 29. 
 
 Militia, not to be disposed of without con- 
 sent of parliament, 301. 
 
 Milles, Hermann^ letter to, 956. 
 
 Milton, the author, his account of himself, 
 80, &c. 926, 933. Of his complaint in his 
 eyes, 958. 
 
 Mimes, what they were, 77. 
 
 Minister, different from the magistrate, in 
 the excellence of his end, 50. Duties be- 
 longing to his office, ib. Whether the 
 people are judges of his ability, f^2. 
 
 Ministers, have the power of binding and 
 loosing, 34. Their labours reflected on, 
 by licensing the press, 112. How distin- 
 guished in the primitive times from other 
 Christians, 437. 
 
 Ministers, Presbyterian, account of their 
 behaviour, when the bishops were preach- 
 ed down, 346. 
 
 Minncan, an ancient British king, 482. 
 
 Mithridates, why he endeavoured to stir up 
 all princes against the Romans, 342. 
 
 Mollo, the brother of Kedwalla, pursued, 
 beset, and burnt in a house whither he 
 had fled for shelter, 522. His death re- 
 venged by his brother, ib. 
 
 Molmutine Laws, what and by whom esta- 
 blished in England, 480. 
 
 Monarchy, said to have been first founded 
 by Nimrod, 336. The ill consequences of 
 readmitting it, 44S, &c. 
 
 Monk, General, letter to him concerning 
 the establishing of a free commonwealth, 
 441. 
 
 Monks, invented new fetters to throw on 
 matrimony, 161. Dubious relaters in 
 civil matters, and very partial in ecclesi- 
 astic, .501. One thousand one hundred 
 and fifty of them massacred, 516. 
 
 Morcar, the son of Algar, made earl of Nor- 
 thumberland in the room of Tosti, 558. 
 9 
 
INDEX. 
 
 He and Edwin duke of the Mercians put 
 Tosti to flight, 559. They give battle to 
 Harold Harvager, king of Norway, but 
 are worsted, 560. They refuse to set up 
 Edgar, and at length swear fidelity to ' 
 Duke William of Normandy, .561. 
 Mordreri, Arthur's nephew, said to have 
 
 fiven him in a battle his death wound, 
 13. 
 
 jtfore, Alexander, Defence of the Author 
 against, 13X Account of him, 922 
 
 Morindut, the son of Elanius by Tangues- 
 tela, a valiant man, but infinitely cruel, 
 481. Is devoured by a sea monster, ib. 
 
 Mo»co, fertility of the' country between this 
 city and Vefaslave, .569 Said to be big- 
 ger than London, ib. Metho<l of travel- 
 ling thence to the Caspian, ib. Siege of 
 it raised, and peace made with the Poles, 
 by the mediation of King James, .576. 
 
 Moncoviti, description of the empire, .56S. 
 Excessive cold in winter there, ib. Suc- 
 ceitsion of its dukes and emperors, 
 .573, &c. 
 
 Motet, instructed the Jews from the book 
 of Genesis, what sort of government they 
 were to be subject to, 29. Designed for 
 a lawiriver, but Christ came amonar us as 
 a teacher, 70. Oflended with the pro- 
 fane speeches of Zinpora, sent her back 
 to her father, 131. Why he permitted a 
 bill of divorce, 1.51. An interpreter be- 
 tween God and the people, 3'>6. Did not 
 exercise an arbitrarj' power, 360. 
 
 Moulin, Dr. remarks on his argument for 
 the continuance of bishops in the English 
 church, 74. 
 
 MolmutiuM. See Dunwallo. 
 
 Miuic, recommended to youth, 101. 
 
 N 
 
 Nattau, house of, hinted at, as dangerous 
 to a commonwealth, 448. 
 
 Natanieod, or Sazaleod, supposed the same 
 with Uther Pendragon, .510. 
 
 Nation*, at liberty to erect what form of 
 government they like, TXi, 348. Their 
 beginning why obscure, 475. 
 
 Naztanzen, his wish that prelacy had never 
 been, 317. 
 
 Nature, her zodiac and annual circuit over 
 human things. 20a 
 
 Nen, had no right to the succession, 362. 
 Comparison between him and King 
 Charles, 384. 
 
 Netherlands, saved from ruin by not trust- 
 ing the Spanish king, 242. 
 
 Nonnichia, wife of Gerontius, her resolu- 
 tion and death, 501. Is highly praised 
 by Sozomen, ib. 
 
 Nimrod, reputed by ancient tradition the 
 first that founded monarchy, 336. 
 
 Ninnius, an author reputed 'to have lived 
 above 1000 years asro, 476. 
 
 Noneav, prince Frederic heir of, the coun- 
 cil of state's letter to him, 600. Oliver's 
 letter to him, 625. 
 
 Newgate, when built, 482, note. 
 
 Obedience, defined 239. 
 
 Oeta and Ebinta, Hengist the son and ne- 
 phew of, called over by him, .507. They 
 poiMSSthemselvesofNorthumberland. i ft. 
 
 Odemira, Conde de, Oliver's letter to him, 
 618. 
 
 Oenut. one in the catalogue of ancient 
 British kings, 4^2. 
 
 Orric or Oi$c, succeeds his father Henjrist 
 in the kingdom of Kent, and from him 
 the Kentish kings called Oiscings, 509. 
 He is otherwise called Eica, 512. 
 
 Offa, the son of Siger, quits his kingdom of 
 the East-Saxons to go to Rome and turn 
 monk, .523, 52.5. 
 
 O^a, defeating and slaying Beomred, be- 
 comes king of Mercia after Ethelbald, 
 OaH. He subdues a neighbouring people 
 called Hastings, 528 Gets the victory of 
 Alric king of Kent at Occanford, ib. In- 
 ▼itlne Ethelbrite king of the East-Angles 
 to hit palace, he there treacherously 
 causes hira to be beheaded, and seizes 
 nU kingdom, im. Had at first enmity. 
 atlCTwards league, with Charles the ( Jreat, 
 «». He grants a perpetual tribute to the 
 Pppe o«t of every bouse in his kingdom, 
 !•• _■*' draws a trench of wondrous 
 length between Mercia and the British 
 confines. His death, »». 
 10 
 
 Oldenburgh, count of, letter from the coun- 
 cil of state to him, 600. Letters from 
 Oliver to him. 603. 
 
 Oldenburgh, Henry, letters to, 957, 959, 
 
 961, OfKi 
 
 Oliver, the Protector, letters written in his 
 name to several princes and iwtentate.x. 
 604. In Latin, 792. &c. His manilesto 
 airainst the depredations of the Spaniards, 
 6;». In Latin. H23. 
 
 Ordination, whether the order of bishops 
 to be kept up to perform it. 68 Preach- 
 ing as holy, and far more excellent, ib. 
 
 Origen, while a layman, expounded the 
 Scriptures publicly, 49. Permitted wo- 
 men to marry alter divorce, 167, 21.3. 
 
 Oresten, condemned to death for killing his 
 mother, 334. 
 
 Ormond, earl of, articles between him and 
 the Irish, a47. His letter to Colonel 
 Jones, 2.59. His proclamation of King 
 Charles II. in Ireland, 260. Remarks on 
 the articles, &c 262. 
 
 Osbald, a nobleman, exalted to the throne 
 of the Northumbrians after Ethelred, .527. 
 
 Onbert, reigns in Northumberland after the 
 last of the Ethelreds, 5.'i0. Helpinir the 
 Picts against Donaldus, king of Scotland, 
 defeats the Scots at Stirling bridge, with 
 great slaughter, and takes the king pri- 
 soner, 531. 
 
 Oifrid, and Eanfrid, the sons of Edwin, 
 converted and baptized, 518. Osfrid 
 slain, together with his lather, in a battle 
 against Kedwalla, 519. 
 
 Osiris, slain by his brother Typhon, 378. 
 
 Oslac and Cneban. two Saxon earls, slain 
 by Keaulin at Wibbandun, 512. 
 
 Osmund, king of the South-Saxons, .525. 
 
 Osred, a child, succeeds Alfrid in the Nor- 
 thumbrian kingdom. 523. He is slain by 
 his kindred, for hrs vicious life, .524. 
 
 Osred, son of Alcred, advanced to the king- 
 dom of Northumberland, after Elfwald. 
 is soon driven out again, .526. Is taken 
 and forcibly shaven a monk at York, ib. 
 
 Osric, the son of Elfric, baptized by Pau- 
 linus, succeeds in the kingdom of Deira, 
 519. Turns apostate, and is slain by an 
 eruption of Kedwalla, out of a besieged 
 town, ib. Another Osric succeeds Ken- 
 red the second, SfiA. 
 
 Osric, earl of Southampton, and Ethelwolf 
 of Berkshire, beat the Danes back to their 
 ships, 531. 
 
 Ostorius, sent vicepraetor into Britain, in 
 the room of Plautius the praetor, 489. 
 Routs the Britons, and improves his vic- 
 tory to the best advantage, tft. Gives 
 the government of several cities to Cogi- 
 dunus. a British king, his ally, 4.90. De- 
 feats the Silures under the leading of 
 Caractacus, tft. Has afterwards bad 
 success, ib. 
 
 Ostrid, the wife of Ethelred, killed by her 
 own nobles. .523 
 
 Oswald, brother of Eanfrid, living exiled in 
 Scotland, is there baptized, 519. With a 
 small army utterly overthrows Kedwalla, 
 ib Settles religion, and very much en- 
 larges his dominions, ib. Overcome and 
 slain in battle by Penda, at Maserfleld, 
 now Oswestre, ib. 
 
 Oswi, succeeds his brother Oswald in the 
 kincdom, .520. He persuades Sigebert to 
 receive the christian faith, tft. Routs 
 Penda's vast army, 521. He subdues all 
 Mercia. and the greatest part of the Pict- 
 ish nation, tft. Shaken off by the Mercian 
 nobles, and Wulfer set up in his stead, tft. 
 His death, tft. 
 
 Ostrin, the nephew of Edwin, shares with 
 Oswi in the kingdom of Northumber- 
 land, .520. (doming to arms with him, he 
 is overmatched, and slain by his com- 
 mand, tft. 
 
 Otirulf, has the crown of Northumberland 
 relinquished to him by Eadbert, 525. 
 Slain by his own servants, tft. 
 
 Othn, succeeds Esca in tl»e kingdom of 
 Kent, 512. 
 
 Otter and Roald, two Danish leaders land- 
 ing in Devonshire, their whole forces are 
 scattered, and Roald slain, .5.37. 
 
 Oiriga, river, steep waterfalls in it, 569. 
 
 Oxford, burnt by the Danes, 546. 
 
 Pandrasus, a Grecian king, keeps the Tro- 
 .ians in servitude, 477. Is oeaten by 
 Brutus, {ft. 
 
 Paolo, Padre, bis judgment conceniing the 
 
 hierarchy of England, 13. Observes, that 
 books were left to each one's conscience, 
 to read or lay by, till after the year 600, 
 lft5. 
 
 Papists, imitating the ceremonial law, fell 
 into superstition, ."«. Most severe against 
 divorce, yet most easy to all licentious- 
 ness, 1-54. 
 
 Parable, in Luke xiv. 16, &c. explained, 
 419. 
 
 Partrus, his opinion that the gospel re- 
 quires perfecter obedience than the law, 
 refuted, 143 His objection against di- 
 vorce answered, 157. His definition oi 
 marriage. 185. Accuses the Jesuit Mal- 
 donatus. 195. His note on the entertain- 
 ment of the young man in the gospel, 
 198. 
 
 Parallel, between a king and a master of 
 a family, very lame, 376. 
 
 Parliament, the absurdity of calling it a 
 convocation, 89. Commendation of their 
 proceedings, ift. Praised for their cou- 
 rage in punishing tyrants, 241. Their 
 guard dismissed, and another appointed, 
 284. By our old laws, to be held twice a 
 year at London, 287. Not to be dissolved 
 till grievances are redressed, 288. What 
 the name originally signified, 447. Above 
 all po.sitive law, 4'(6. Character of the 
 long parliament in 1641. 502, &c. Let- 
 ters of state written in the name of the, 
 587-602, 637. In Latin, 777-791, 821, 822. 
 Cautions on the choice of representatives 
 in. 948. 
 
 Pastor of Christ's church, his universal 
 right to admonish, .59. For his greatest 
 labours, requires only common neces- 
 saries. 70. 
 
 Pastoral Office, the nature and dignity of 
 it. 70. 
 
 Patriarchate, independent of the crown, 
 affected by some prelates. 16. 
 
 Paul, St. his instruction to Timothy, for 
 church-discipline, 31 Meaning of that 
 text. Charity believeth all things, 1.54. 
 His writings touching divorce explained, 
 169 His different manner of speaking 
 explained, 209 Commands us to pray 
 for kings, yet calls Nero a lion. 364. 
 
 Paulinus, with Edelburga, endeavours to 
 convert Northumberland to Christianity, 
 517. The manner of his making King 
 Edwin a convert, ift. 518. He converts 
 the province of Lindsey, and Blecca the 
 governor of Lincoln, and builds a church 
 m that city, 518. 
 
 Paul's, St cathedral at London, by whom 
 first built, 515. 
 
 Paulus Jovius, his motives for describing 
 only Britain and Muscovy, 567. 
 
 Peace, proclamation relating to that t>e- 
 tween the earl of Ormond and the Irish, 
 247. Articles of it, &c. ift. Remarks on 
 those articles, &c. 262. 
 
 Peada. prince of the Middle-.\ngles, is bap- 
 tized with all his followers, 520. Hath 
 South Mercia conferred on him by Oswi, 
 .521. Slain by the treachery of his wife, 
 ift. 
 
 Pechora, a river in Siberia, abounding 
 with divers sorts of fowl, which serve for 
 winter provision, 568. 
 
 Peers, twelve ancient ones of the kings of 
 France, 388- 
 
 Pelagius, a Briton, brings new opinions 
 into the church, 501. The Pelagian doc- 
 trine refuted by Germanus, 50-5. Pela- 
 gians are judged to banishment by Ger- 
 manus, .506. 
 
 Penda, the son of Wibba, king of Mercia, 
 has the kingdom surrendered to him by 
 Kearle, 518. He joins with Kedwalla 
 against Edwin, 519. He slays Oswald in 
 battle, ib. In another battle, Sigebert, 
 .520 In another, Anna, king of the East- 
 Angles, ift. He is slain in a battle against 
 Oswi, .521. 
 
 Penissel, reckoned in the numl>er of an- 
 cientest British kings, 482. 
 
 People of England, Defence of, atrainst Sal- 
 masius, .338. In the original Latin, 619. 
 .Second Defence ol, 919. In the original 
 Latin, 707. 
 
 Peredure and f'igenius, expel their brother 
 Elidure, and share the kingdom between 
 them, 482. 
 
 Perjury, an example of divine vengeance 
 in Alfred, who conspired against King 
 Athelstan. .538. 
 
 Pern, Dr. his testimony concerning Martin 
 Bucer, 160. 
 
 Persians, their kings not absolute, 379. 
 Frequently murdered their princes, ib. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Pestilence, prevents the invasion of the 
 Scots and Picts, .506. 
 
 Peter, St. commits to the presbyters only, 
 full authority to feed the flock, and to 
 episcopate, 32. His epistle concerning^ 
 submission explained. 360. 
 
 Petilius Cerealis, defeated by the Britons, 
 492. He commands the Roman army in 
 Britain, 4a3. 
 
 Petronius Tiirpilianus, commands in chief 
 in Britain, after Suetonius Paulinus, 493. 
 
 Pharaoh, the consequences of his fear of 
 the Israelites, 31->. 
 
 Pharisees, their question concerning di- 
 vorce, 17.3. Afraid lest Christ should 
 abolish the judicial law, \9^. 
 
 Pharisees ana Saddvcees, though different 
 sects, yet both met together in their com- 
 mon worship of God, 563. 
 
 Philip de (.'omines, his opinion of the Eng- 
 lish government, 402. 
 
 Philip IV., king of Spain, letters to him, 
 588. Letter to him complaining of the 
 murder of Ascham, ."591. Another, de- 
 siring speedy punishment may be inflict- 
 ed on the murderers, ib. Another, com- 
 plaining of the ill treatment of the Eng- 
 lish merchants, !j93. 
 
 Philo Juilaus, his definition of a king and a 
 tyrant, 348, 349. 
 
 Piety and Justice, our foundresses, not the 
 common or civil law, 19. 
 
 Pir, one of the ancientest race of British 
 kings, 482. 
 
 Picts and Scots, harass the south coasts of 
 Britain, 500, &c. See Hcots. 
 
 Picts and Saxons, beaten by the Britons, 
 through the pious conduct of Germanus, 
 
 SOT). 
 
 Plato, recommended the reading of Aris- 
 tophanes to his scholar Dionysius, 105. 
 In his book of laws, lays a restraint on 
 the freedom of writing, 109. His saying 
 of offspring, 180. How he would have 
 magistrates called, 360. 
 
 Pliny, his comnliment to Trajan, 382. 
 Commends the killing of Domitian, ib. 
 
 Ploics, a privilege of sanctuary granted 
 them, 481. 
 
 Poetasters, the corruption and bane of our 
 youth, by their libidinous writings, 44. 
 
 Poets, elegiac, Milton's fondness ol them 
 in his youth, 80. True ones enemies to 
 despotism, 928. 
 
 Poland, declaration for the election of John 
 the Third, king of, .583. 
 
 Pool, Cardinal, his reproof of Marinaro, a 
 ('armelite, 194. 
 
 Pope, title of Most Holy Father given him 
 by a protestant prince, 344. As a tyrant, 
 may be lawfully rooted out of the church, 
 366. Why accounted Antichrist, 414. 
 
 Popery, as "being idolatrous, not to be tole- 
 rated either m private or public, 564. 
 Means to hinder the growth of it, ib. 
 Amendment of life, the best means to 
 avoid it, .565. Reasons against tolerating 
 it, 417. 5M. 
 
 Purrex. slays his orother Ferrex, 480. 
 Whose death is revenged by his mother 
 Videna, ib. Another of that name reck- 
 oned in the catalogue of kings, 482. 
 
 Portsmouth, denominated from the landing 
 of Porta, a Saxon prince, with his two 
 sons Bida and Megla, 509. 
 
 Portugal. See John IV. 
 
 Portugal agent, letter from the parliament 
 to the, .592. 
 
 Power, civil, not to use force in religious 
 matters, 41.3, 417. 
 
 Prasutagus. king of the Icenians, leaving 
 Caesar coheir with his daughters, causes 
 the Britons to revolt, 491. 
 
 Prayer, for the true church a^inst her 
 prelatical enemies, 20, 21. Forms of 
 prayer, not to be imposed on ministers, 
 60. The Lord's Prayer no warrant for 
 liturgies, ib. 314. "Extempore prayer 
 commended, 31.5. 
 
 Preacher, his lips should give knowledge, 
 not ceremonies, 46. 
 
 Prelates, their character since their coming 
 to the see of Canterbury, 18. Caution 
 against their designs, 19, 20. By their 
 leaden doctrine, bring an unactive blind- 
 ness of mind on the people, 37. Counsel 
 given them, 39. Their negligence in Ire- 
 land, notorious in Queen Elizabeth's 
 days, 40. Have disfigured true christian 
 religion with superstitious vestures, 46. 
 Have proclaimed mankind unpurifled 
 and contagious, 50. Reason of their fa- 
 vouring Magna Charta in the time of 
 popery, 52. Brand all with the name of 
 
 schismatics, who find fault with their 
 temporal dignities, and cruelty, 5.1 The 
 greatest underminers and betrayers of 
 the monarch, .54. What fldelitv kings 
 may expect from them, ib. Glorious 
 actions of the peers and commons op- 
 posed by them, ib. Motives for abolish- 
 ing the prelatical order, ib. More sa- 
 voury knowledge in one lavman than in 
 a dozen prelates, 62. Their wealth, how 
 acquired, &5. Their cruelty, 87. More 
 base and covetous than Simon Magus, 97. 
 Account of their conduct, ib. 
 
 Prelaty or Prelacy, weakens the regal 
 power, 12, 13, 14. Its fall cannot affect 
 the authori ty of princes, 14. Not the only 
 church-government agreeable to mo- 
 narchy, 17. Objections against reform- 
 ation from prelaty, answered, 18. No 
 more venerable than papacy, ib. Hath 
 no foundation in the law or gospel, 32, 3.3, 
 S5. Prevents not schism, but rather pro- 
 motes it, 36. Wedded with faction, never 
 to be divorced, 37. Drew its original 
 from schism, ib. A subject of discord 
 and off'ence, 39. No free and splendid 
 wit can flourish under it, 44. Opposes 
 the reason and end of the gospel, first, in 
 her outward form, 45. Secondly, in her 
 ceremonious doctrine, ib. Thirdly, in 
 her jurisdiction, 46. More antichrlstian 
 than Antichrist himself, 52. The mischief 
 it does in the state, ib. A carnal doc- 
 trine, ib. Has the fatal gifl, to turn every 
 thing it touches into the dross of slavery, 
 53. A grand imposture, 55. 
 
 Prelatical Episcopacy, whether to be de- 
 duced from the apostolical times, 22, &c. 
 ——Jurisdiction, opposes the end of the 
 gospel, 46. 
 
 Presbyterian, the only true church-govern- 
 ment, 48. Aims at a compulsive power, 
 268. 
 
 Presbyterians, rallied for their conduct 
 towards King Charles, QSJ, &c. Properly 
 the men who first deposed, and then kill- 
 ed him, 239, &c. Advice to their muiis- 
 ters, 242. Their claim of tithes animad- 
 verted on, 429, 430. 
 
 Press, the liberty of it pleaded for, while 
 the bishops were to be run down, 113. 
 Method for regulating it, 118. See Li- 
 censing. 
 
 Priests, their policy the way to deprive us 
 of our protestant friends, 14. Imparity 
 among tnem annulled, a5. 
 
 Printing, unlicensed, speech for the liberty 
 of, 103. If to be licensed, all recreations 
 to be regulated also, 109. Reasons for 
 the free liberty thereof, 112, &c. 
 
 Priscus Licinius, lieutenant in this isle 
 under Hadrian, 496. 
 
 Probus, subdues the usurper Bonosus, 
 who falls in the battle, 498. Prevents 
 new risings in Britain, ib. 
 
 Professors of true religion, brought to gross 
 idfolatry by heinous transgressions, 566 
 
 Prolusiones Oratoria;, Lat. 843. 
 
 Protagorus, his books commanded to be 
 burnt by the judges of Areopagus, 105. 
 
 Protestants, exhorted to be thankful for 
 reformation, 65. Some of them live and 
 die in implicit faith, 113. Assert it law- 
 ful to depose tyrants, .347. Not obliged 
 to believe as the state believes, 414. 
 More criminal than papists, if they force 
 tender consciences, 417. Reproved for 
 depending too much on the clergy, 438. 
 Cannot persecute those who dissent from 
 them, without renouncing their own 
 principles, .563. Disputes among them 
 should be charitably inquired into, ib. 
 Ought to allow a toleration, ib. Polonian 
 and French protestants tolerated among 
 papists, ib. Things indifferent not to be 
 imposed by them, ib. 
 
 Puckering, Jane, an heiress, carried into 
 Flanders, 589. Reclaimed of the arch- 
 duke, ib. 
 
 Punishment, of two sorts, in this world and 
 the other, 48. Severe ones in the reigns 
 of King James and King Charles, com- 
 plained of, 297. 
 
 Purgatory, why rejected by prelaty, .52. 
 
 Puritans, hated by King Charles I., 29.3. 
 Who termed so, by the favourers of epis- 
 copacy, 405. 
 
 R 
 
 Ramus, Peter, Life of, in Latin, 916. 
 
 Randolf, Thomas, sent ambassador from 
 Queen Elizabeth to Muscovy, 579. Ac- 
 count of his audience of the emperor, ib. 
 
 Readwulf, cut off with most of his army by 
 the Danes at Alvetheli, 530. 
 
 Reason of Church-government urged 
 against Prelaty, 28. 
 
 Reason, the gift of God in one man as well 
 as in a thousand, 60. Trusted to man to 
 direct his choice, 107. 
 
 Rebellion, in Ireland, should hasten a re- 
 formation, 40. 
 
 Recreations, sometimes proper to relieve 
 labour and intense thought, 181. 
 
 Rederchius, reckoned among the ancient 
 British kings, 432. 
 
 Redion, another British king, 482. 
 
 Redwald, king of the East-Angles, wars 
 against Ethelfrid, and slays him, 517. 
 Erected an altar to Christ, and another to 
 his idols in the same temple, ib. 
 
 Reformation (Of) in England, and the 
 causes that have prevented it, 1. 
 
 Reformation, the want of this the cause of 
 rebellion, 40. The ready way to quell 
 the barbarous Irish rebels, 41. 
 
 Reformations, of the good kings of Judah, 
 vehement and speedy, 18. 
 
 Reformed Churches abroad, ventured out 
 of popery into what is called precise pu- 
 ritanism, ib. Abolished episcopacy, not- 
 withstanding the testimonies brought to 
 support it, 27. 
 
 Regin, son of Gorbonian, a good king, 482. 
 
 Religion, not wounded by disgrace tnrown 
 on the prelates. 8-5. The corrupters of it 
 enemies to civil liberty, 90. Not promot- 
 ed by force, 417, &c. What is true reli- 
 gion, .562. 
 
 Remonstrance, by a dutiful Son of the 
 Church, remarks on that authors con- 
 duct, 77, &c. 
 
 Remonstrant's Defence against Smectym- 
 nuus. Animadversions on, .55. 
 
 Rhee, unfortunate expedition against that 
 island, 297. 
 
 Richard II., commons requested to have 
 judgment declared against him, 237. How 
 the parliament treated him, and his evil 
 counsellors, 289. 
 
 Richard the protector, letters of state writ- 
 ten in his name, 634. 
 
 Ridley, Bishop, at his degradement, dis- 
 liked and condemned ceremonies, 18. 
 
 Rivatlo, succeeds his father Cunedagius, 
 480. 
 
 Rivetus, his opinion concerning dispensa- 
 tion, refuted, 141. 
 
 Roald, a Danish leader, slain near the 
 Severn, 537. 
 
 Rochellers, English shipping sent against 
 them, 297. 
 
 Rollo, the Dane or Norman, having fought 
 unsuccessfully here, turns his forces into 
 France, and conquers Normandy, .535. 
 
 Romans, their slaves allowed to speak their 
 minds freely once a year, .57. At what time 
 they came first to Britain, 483. Land 
 there under the conduct of Julius Caesar, 
 484. Their sharp conflict with the Britons 
 near the Stowre in Kent, 486. The cruel 
 massacre of the Britons upon them, 492. 
 They leave the island, 500. They come 
 and aid the Britons against the Scots and 
 Picts, ib. They help them to build a new 
 wall, .504. Instruct them in war, and take 
 their last farewell, ib. 
 
 Romanus, named among the four sons of 
 Histion, sprung of Japhet, and from him 
 the Romans fabled to be derived, 476. 
 
 Rome, christian, not so careful to prevent 
 tyranny in her church, as pagan Rome 
 was in the state, 48. 
 
 Rossomakka, a beast so called, strange way 
 of bringing forth her young, 569. 
 
 Rou-en, the daughter of Hengist, sent for 
 over by her lather, 507. She presents 
 King Vortigern with a bowl of wine by 
 her father's command, ib. She is upon 
 the king's demand given him in mar- 
 riage, ib. 
 
 Rudaucus, king of Cambria, subdued in 
 fight, and slain by Dunwallo Molmutius, 
 4S0. 
 
 Rudhuddibras, succeeds his father Leil, 
 and founds Canterbury, with several 
 other places, 479. 
 
 Run no, the son of Peredure, not immediate 
 successor, 482. 
 
 Russia, ceremony and magnificence of the 
 emperor's coronation, ,574. First dis- 
 covery of it by the north-east, .577. The 
 English embassies and entertainments at 
 that court, 578. One of Queen P.;iizabeth's 
 kinswomen demanded by the emperor 
 for a wife, .580. Oliver's letter to the em- 
 peror of, 623. 
 
 11 
 
INDEX. 
 
 liuitianM, account of their civil govern- 
 ment, 5fi9. Their revenues, 570.. Mili- 
 tary forces and discipline, ib. Their re- 
 ligion and marriages, ib. Their burials 
 and manners, ib. Their habit, and way 
 of travelling, 571. 
 
 Sabra, thro\m into the river, (thence called 
 Sabrina,) with her mother Estrildis, by 
 Guendolen, 479. 
 
 Stilluti, the chief of the Latin historians, 
 961. 
 
 Salmaeit, caution against bathing in that 
 stream, 310. 
 
 Satma»iu», remarks on his defence of the 
 king, 338, &c. His opinion of episcopacy, 
 341. Was once a counsellor at law, 3+4. 
 His complaint that executioners in vi- 
 zards cut off the king's head, ;}45. His 
 definition of a king, 347. UitTers from 
 himself in ecclesiastics and politics, 367. 
 Taxed with receiving a hundred Jaco- 
 buses as a bribe, 376, 395. An advocate 
 for tyranny, 387. Lord of St. Lou, the 
 ineaiiing of that word, 392, note. His 
 Anglicisms remarked, 395. See Defence 
 of trie People of England. 
 
 Samoedia, Siberia, and other countries, 
 subject to the Muscovites, described, 571. 
 Manners of the inhabitants, ib. 
 
 Samolhes, the first king that history or fable 
 mentions to have peopled this island, 476 
 
 Sampgon, kings Compared to him, 54. 
 Counted it no act of impiety to kill the 
 enslavers of his country, 368. 
 
 Samuel, depo.sed for themisgovernment of 
 his sons, 234. His scheme of sovereignty 
 explamed, .350. 
 
 Samuliut, recorded among the ancient 
 British kings, 482. 
 
 Sardanapalua, deprived of his crown by 
 Arbaces, assisted by the priests, 379 
 
 Saron, the second king named among the 
 successors of Samothes, 476. 
 
 Satires, toothless, the impropriety of the 
 epithet, 88. 
 
 Saol, a good king or a tyrant, according as 
 it suits Salmasius, 369. 
 
 Satoy, duke of See /mmanuel. 
 
 Saxons, parliaments in their time had the 
 supreme power, 396. Harass the south 
 coast of Britain, slay Nectaridius, and 
 Bulcobandes, 500. Their character, 507. 
 Their original, ib. Invited into Britain 
 by Vortigem, aid the Britons against 
 the Scots and Picts, t6. They arrive, led 
 by Hengist and Horsa, ib. They beat 
 the Scots and Picts near Stamford, ib. 
 Fresh forces sent them over, and their 
 bounds enlarged, ib. They waste the 
 land without resistance, -508- Beaten by 
 Guortimer in four battles, and driven 
 into Thanet, ib. Assassinate three hun- 
 dred Britons treacherously, and seize 
 Vortigem, .509. Most of them return into 
 their own country, ib. The rest defeated 
 by Ambrosius Aurelianus, and the Bri- 
 tons, ib. 
 
 Saxoni and Picts. See Picts. 
 
 Schimn, the apostles' way to prevent it, .38. 
 Mitres the badges of schism, ib. May 
 happen in a true church as well as in a 
 false one, 563. 
 
 Schismatici, those only such, according to 
 the prelates, who dislike their abomina- 
 tions and cruelties in the church, .37, .38. 
 
 Scrva, a Roman soldier, his extraordinary 
 bravery in Britain, 4&1. Is advanced oh 
 that account, ib. 
 
 Scots vriters, their opinion of kings, 238. 
 Nation, by whom first mentioned, 498. 
 
 Scots, rea.sons for their ill-treatment of 
 Queen Mary, 238 King Charles a native 
 king to them, 296. 
 
 Scots, Piets, and Altacots, harass the south 
 coast of Britain, 500. Overcome by 
 Maximus, ib. Scot* poRsessed Ireland 
 first, and named it Scotia, ib. Scots and 
 Picts beaten by the Romans, sent to the 
 aid of the Britons, .504. They make spoil 
 and havock with little or no opposition. 
 
 Scriptures, only, able to satisfy us of the 
 divine constitution of episcopacy, 22. 
 The only balance to weigh the fathers 
 In, 27. To be relied on against all an- 
 tiquity, ib. To be admired for their 
 clearness, 29. The just and adequate 
 niMsu'-e of truth, M. Several texts re- 
 lating to marriage and divorce explained, 
 178, Sec. Reading the Scriptures dili- 
 12 
 
 gently, a means to prevent the growth 
 of popery, .565. 
 
 Sea overwnelms several towns in England, 
 with many thousands of inhabitants, 548. 
 
 Sebbi, having reigned 30 years, takes the 
 habit of a monk, .Wi. 
 
 Sebert, the son of Sleda, reigns over the 
 East-Saxons by permission of Ethel bcrt, 
 51.5. 
 
 Sects and schisms, among us, should hasten 
 
 a reforniatiuii from prelacy, 39, fee. 
 
 and errours, permitted by God to try our 
 faith, ib. Sent ua an incitement to re- 
 formation, ib. May be in a true church, 
 as well as in a false one, .563. Authors 
 of them sometimes learned and religious 
 men, ib. 
 
 Seaonax, one of the four petty kings in 
 Rritaiii that assaulted Caisar's camp, 487. 
 
 Seius Saturninus, commands the Roman 
 navy in Britain, 49a 
 
 Selden, Mr. according to him, errours are 
 of service to the attainment of truth, 107. 
 
 Setred, the son of Sigebert the good, suc- 
 ceeds OfTa in the East-Saxon kingdom, 
 and comes to a violent end, 525. 
 
 Senate, or council of state, proposed, 440, 
 441. Not to be successive, 440. Com- 
 plaint from the English senate to the city 
 of Hamborough, of the ill usage of their 
 merchants, 587. 
 
 Seneca, his opinion of punishing tyrants, 
 236, ;«2. Extortions the Britons, 4.92. 
 
 Septimius Severus, the Roman emperor, 
 arrives with an army in this island, 497. 
 His ill success agai'n.st the Caledonians, 
 ib. Nevertheless goes on and brings 
 them to terms of peace, t*. Builds a wall 
 across the island, from sea to sea, ib. 
 They taking arms again, he sends his son 
 Antoninus against them, 498. He dies at 
 York, ib. 
 
 Sermon, remarks on one preached before 
 the lords and commons, 176. 
 
 Sesell, Claudius, his saying of the French 
 parliament, 233. 
 
 Severn river, whence named, 479. 
 
 Severus, sent over deputy into this island 
 by the emperor Valentinian, 500. 
 
 Sexburga, the wife of Kenwalk, driven out 
 by the nobles, 522. 
 
 Sexted and Seward, reestablish heathenism 
 in East-Saxony, after the death of their 
 father Sebert, 516. In a fight against the 
 Britons they perish with their whole 
 army, 517. 
 
 Shaftesbury, by whom built, 479. 
 
 Shame, or" the reverence of our elders, 
 brothers, and friends, the greatest incite- 
 ment to virtuous deeds, 49. 
 
 Ships, 3600 employed to guard the coasts of 
 England, .541. 
 
 Sichardus, his opinion of the power of 
 kings, a52. 
 
 Siaeard and Senfred, succeed their father 
 .Sebbi in the East-Saxon kingdom, .52.5. 
 
 Sigebert, succeeds his brother Eorpwald in 
 the kingdom of the East- Angles, .519. He 
 founds a school or college, thought to be 
 Cambridge, and betakes himself to a mo- 
 nastical life, .520. Being forced into the 
 field against Penda, is slain with his kins- 
 man Egric, ib. 
 
 Sigebert, sumamed the small, succeeds his 
 father Seward king of the East-Saxons, 
 .520. His successor Sigebert the 2d is 
 persuaded to embrace Christianity, ib. 
 Murdered by the conspiracy of two bre- 
 thren, t4. His death denounced by the 
 bishop for eating with an excommuni- 
 cated person, ib .521. 
 
 Sigebert, the kinsman of Cuthred, succeeds 
 him in the West-Saxon kingdom, .525. 
 
 Siger, the son of Sigebert the small, and 
 Sebbi the son of Seward, succeed in the 
 government of the Rast-Saxons after 
 Swithelm's decease, .521. 
 
 Silures, a people of Britain, choose Carac- 
 tacus for their leader against the Romans, 
 490. They continue the war against 
 Ostorius and others, ib. 
 
 Simonist, who the first in England, .522. 
 
 Simon Zelotes, by some said to have 
 preached the christian faith in this island, 
 496. 
 
 Sin, not to be allowed by law, 1.38. Such 
 an allowance makes God the author of it, 
 140. 
 
 Sisitius, succeeds Jago, 480. 
 
 Sisilius, the son of Guitheline, succeeds his 
 mother Martia, 4SI. Another of that 
 name reckoned in the number of the an- 
 cient British kin(p«, 482 
 
 Siward, earl of Northumberland, sent by 
 
 Hardecnute, togetlier with Leofric, 
 against tlic |)Cople of Worcester, 553. He 
 and Leolric raise forces for King Edward 
 against Earl (iodwin, .55.5. He makes an 
 expedition into Scotland, vanquishes 
 Macbeth, and placeth in his stead Mal- 
 colm son ot the Cumbrian king, 556. He 
 dies at York in an armed posture, 557. 
 
 Sleda, erects the kingdom of the £ast- 
 Sftxons, 510. 
 
 Smectymnuus, Animadversions upon the 
 Remonstrant's Defence against, 5.5. Au- 
 thor's reasons for undertaking its apo- 
 logy, 75. 
 
 Smith, Sir T%omas, in his commonwealth 
 of England, asserts the government to be 
 a mixed one, 392. 
 
 Smith, Sir Thomas, sent ambassador from 
 King James to the emf>eror of Russia, 
 .581. His reception and entertainment at 
 Moscow, ib. 
 
 Sobietski, John, elected king of Poland, 
 583. Encomium on his virtues and those 
 of his ancestors, 584. 
 
 Socinians, their notions of the Trinity, 563. 
 
 Soldiers, their duties, !*40. 
 
 Solomon, his song, a divine pastoral drama, 
 43. His counsel to keep the king's com- 
 mandment, explained, 349. Compared 
 with King Charles, a57. 
 
 Songs, throughout the law and prophets, 
 incomparable above all the kinds otlyric 
 poesy, 44. 
 
 Sophocles, introduces Tiresias complaining 
 that he knew more than other men, 42. 
 
 Sorbonists, devoted to the Roman religion, 
 quoted by Salmasius, 368. 
 
 South-Saxon kingdom, by whom erected, 
 509. South-Saxons, on what occasion 
 converted to the christian faith, 522. 
 
 Sozomen, his account of the primitive bi- 
 shops, 316. Commends a christian soldier 
 for killing Julian the apostate, 373, 
 
 5pai/i, king of. 'Ste. Philip W. 
 
 prime minister of, letter from Oliver 
 
 to, 604. 
 
 Spalaito, bishop of, wrote against the pope, 
 yet alterwaras turned papist, 73. 
 
 Spanheim, remarks on iiis notions of di- 
 vorce, 206. 
 
 Spanheim, Ezechiel, letter to, 958. 
 
 Spaniards, Manifesto against their depre- 
 dations, 639. In Latin, 82;i. 
 
 Spanish ambassador, letters from the par- 
 liament to the, .591, .594, .596, .598, 601, 602. 
 
 Sparta, kings of, sometimes put to death by 
 the laws of Lycurgus, 334. 
 
 Spelman, Sir Henry, condemns the taking 
 of fees at sacraments, marriages, and 
 burials, 430, 431. 
 
 Spenser, in his eclogue of May, inveighs 
 against the prelates, 71. His description 
 of temperance, 108. 
 
 States of the United Provinces, treated by 
 us in an unfriendly manner, from princi- 
 ples instilled by the prelates, 14. Oliver's 
 letter to them in favour of the Pied- 
 montois, 607. His other letters to them 
 on dilTerent subjects, 613, 614, 616, 619, 
 627. 
 
 Staterius, king of Albany, is defeated and 
 slain in fight by Dunwallo Molmutius, 
 480. 
 
 Stilicho, represses the invading Scots and 
 Picts, 500. 
 
 Strafford, earl of, an account of his be- 
 haviour and conduct, 280. Who guilty of 
 his death, 28Z 
 
 Studies, what sort proper for the education 
 of youth, 99, &c. 
 
 Stuff and fVithgar, the nephews of Kerdic, 
 bring him new levies, 510. They inherit 
 what he won in the Isle of Wight, 511. 
 
 Sturmius, John, his testimony concerning 
 Martin Bucer, 1.59. 
 
 Subject of England, what makes one, 239. 
 
 Suetonius Paulinus, lieutenant in Britain, 
 attacks the I.sle of Anglesey, 491. 
 
 Suirf/i«/m, succeeds Sigebert m the kingdom 
 of the East-Saxons, 521. He is baptized 
 by Kedda, ib. 
 
 Sulpitius Severus, what he says of a king, 
 378. 
 
 Superstition, the greatest of burdens, 122. 
 
 Suane, makes great devastations in the 
 west of England, .MS. He carries all be- 
 fore him as far as London, but is there 
 repelled, .M6. Styled king of England, 
 Ml. He sickens and dies, ib. 
 
 Suinne, the son of Earl Godwin, treache- 
 rously murders his kinsman Beom, ,5.54. 
 His peace wrouifht with the king by 
 Aldred bishop of Worcester, ib. Touch- 
 ed in conscience for the slaughter of 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Beorn, he goes barefoot to Rome, and re- 
 turning home dies in Lycia, 5.56. 
 
 Sweden, King of. See Charles Giistavus. 
 
 Swithred, the last king of the East-Saxon 
 kingdom, driven out by Ecbert the West- 
 Saxon, 52.5, 52a 
 
 Switzerland, letter to their evangelical 
 cantons from the English commonwealth, 
 601. FromOliver, 608, 611, 629. 
 
 Tacitun, falsely quoted by Salmasius, 381. 
 One of the greatest enemies to tyrants, ib. 
 
 Tarentum, prince of, Oliver's letter to him, 
 605. 
 
 Tarquins, enemies to the liberty of Rome, 
 447. 
 
 Taximaguhia, a petty British king, one of 
 the four that assaulted Caesar's camp, 4H7. 
 
 TeimanUus, one of the sons of Lua, has 
 Cornwall allotted him, 482. Made king 
 after the death of Cassibelan, 488. 
 
 Tenure of Kings and Magistrates, 2.31. 
 
 Tertullian, his opinion of divorce, 213. 
 
 Tetraehordon, on the four chief Places in 
 Scripture treating of Marriage, or Nulli- 
 ties m Marriage, 175. 
 
 Teudric, a warlike king of Britain, said to 
 have exchanged his crown for a hermit- 
 age, 514. To have taken up arms again 
 in aid of his son Mourie, ib. 
 
 Theobald, the brother of King Ethelfrid, 
 slain at Degsastan, 515. 
 
 Theodore, a monk of Tarsus, ordained 
 bishop of Canterbury, .521. By his means 
 the liberal arts and the (Jreek and Latin 
 tongues flourished among the Saxons, ib. 
 
 Theodosius, the emperor, held under ex- 
 communication for eight months, by St. 
 Ambrose, bishop of Milan, 19. His law 
 concerning divorce, 215. Decreed the 
 law to be above the emperor, 354. 
 
 Theodoaius, sent over by Valentinian, en- 
 ters London victoriously, 500. Sends for 
 Civilis and Dulcitius, i*. Punishes Va- 
 lentinus a Pannonian coiispiring against 
 him, ib. Returns with applause to Va- 
 lentinian, ib. 
 
 Theodosius, the son of the former, preferred 
 to the empire, 500. Overcomes and slays 
 Maximus, usurping the empire, ib. 
 
 Thurfert, and divers other Danish lords, 
 submit to King Edward the elder, 537. 
 
 Tiberius, his cruel wish, 34 Had no right 
 to the succession, .'J62. 
 
 Timothy, received ordination by the hands 
 of the presbytery, 34. Not bishop of any 
 particular place, 67. 
 
 Tingoesia, discovered by the Russians, 
 .572. Manners of the Tingoesi, ib. 
 
 Tithes, why to be abolished under the gos- 
 pel, 425, &c. Disallowed by foreign pro- 
 testants, 425. Authorities brought by 
 the advocates for tithes, 42<>. 
 
 Titilus, succeeds his father Uffa in the 
 kingdom of the East- Angles, 510. 
 
 Toyodumnus, the second son of Cunobe- 
 hne, succeeds in the kingdom, 488. Is 
 overthrown by AulusPlautius, «6. Slain 
 in battle, 489. 
 
 Toledo, council of, allow of no cause of di- 
 vorce, except for foniication, 234. 
 
 Toleration of differences not fundamental, 
 recommended, 117. 
 
 Tosti, the son of Godwin, made earl of 
 Northumberland, in the room of Siward, 
 557. He swears brotherhood with Mal- 
 colm, king of Scotland, ib. Goes to Rome 
 with Aldred, bishop of York, ib. The 
 Northumbrians expel him, ib. A story 
 of great outrage and cruelty committed 
 by him at Hereford, 558. Driven out of 
 the country by Edwin and Morcar, 559. 
 Joining with "Harold Harvager, king of 
 Norway, against his brother, is slain to- 
 gether with Harvager in the battle, 560. 
 
 Tours city, whence named, 478. 
 
 Trade flourishes most in free common- 
 wealths, 450. 
 
 Traditions of the church, dissonant from 
 the doctrine of the apostles, in point of 
 episcopacy, 26. Counted nearly equal to 
 the written word in the ancient church, 
 194. Strictly commanded to be rejected, 
 562. 
 
 Trajan, his speech to the general of his 
 pretorian forces, 234, 388. Pliny's com- 
 pliment to him, 382 
 
 Transilvania, prince of, Oliver's letter to 
 him, 606. 
 
 Trebellius Maximus, sent into Britain in 
 the room of Petronius Turpilianus, 493. 
 
 Trinity, .\rian and Socinian notions of the, 
 563. 
 
 Trinobantes, fall off from Cassibelan, sub- 
 mit to Caesar, and recommend Mandu- 
 bratius to his protection, 487. With the 
 Icenians rise up against the Romans. 492. 
 
 True Religion (Of,) Heresy, Schism, Tole- 
 ration, and the best Means against the 
 Growth of Popery, .562. 
 
 Truth, the daughter of Heaven, nursed up 
 between the doctrine and discipline of 
 the Gospel, 25. Love of truth, true elo- 
 quence, 96. Errours of service to the at- 
 tainment of, 107. Of her coming into the 
 world, and her treatment there, 115. 
 Needs no stratagem to make her victo- 
 rious, 117. According to Zorobabel, the 
 strongest of all things, 333. Truth and 
 justice compared, ib. 
 
 Tullius Marcus, no friend to kings, 3.50. 
 Extols the killing of Csesar in the senate, 
 382, .3!K). Afiirms that all fwwer proceeds 
 from the people, 395. 
 
 Tumults, at Whitehall, not so dangerous as 
 those at Sechem, 284 Who the probable 
 cause of them, ib. The efTects of an evil 
 reign, ib. 
 
 Turku, a Danish earl, assaults Canterbury, 
 but is bought off, .546. He swears alle- 
 giance to King Ethelred, that under 
 that pretence he might stay and give in- 
 telligence to Swane, .547. He leaves the 
 English again, and joins with Canute, 
 .548 His greatness suspected by Canute, 
 he is banished the realm, .551. 
 
 Turkitel, a Danish leader, submitting to 
 King Edward, obtains leave of him to go 
 and try his fortune in France, .537. 
 
 Turks, what privileges they enjoy, 3.30. 
 
 Tuscany, great duke of See F\-rdinand. 
 
 Tupoqraphical luxury complained of by 
 Miiton, a59. 
 
 Tt/ranny, the opposersof it described, 89. 
 
 I'l/rants, reasons for punishing them, 231, 
 "&c. What they are, 23.5. Held not only 
 lawful, but glorious and heroic, to kill 
 them, by the Greeks and Romans, ib. 
 2'16. Instances of several punished in the 
 Jewish times, 236. How they have been 
 treated in christian times, ib. Fear and 
 envy good men, 31,3. More commenda- 
 ble to depose than to set up one, 3.>4. 
 Examples of several deposed and put to 
 death by Christians, 372, &c. Submitted 
 to by necessity only, 377. Divine honours 
 ascribed to such as killed them by the 
 Grecians, 380. Definition of a tyrant by 
 Aristotle, 406. Easily extirpated in 
 Greece and Rome, 919. 
 
 Valentinian, his law of divorce, 215. Sends 
 over several deputies successively into 
 this island, .500. 
 
 Valerius Asiaticus, vindicates the killing 
 Calipla, 38Z 
 
 Valerius Publicola, for what reason he de- 
 vised the Valerian law, ,382. 
 
 Vane, Charles, sent as agent from the Eng- 
 lish commonwealth to Lisbon, 589. 
 
 Vatablus, his opinion of divorce, 187. 
 
 Vectius Bolanus, sent into Britain In the 
 room of Trebellius Maximus, 493. 
 
 Vellocatu.1, married by Curtismandua, 491. 
 
 Venice, letters to the duke and senate, from 
 the English council of state, 594, 599. 
 Others from Oliver, 610, 626. 
 
 Venutius, a king of the Brigantes, deserted 
 by his wife Cartismandua, 491. He rights 
 himself against her by arms, ib. Makes 
 war successfully against those taking 
 part with his wife, ib. 
 
 Verannius, succeeds A. Didius in the Bri- 
 tish wars, 491. 
 
 Vespasian, fighting under Plautius against 
 the Britons, is rescued from danger by 
 his son Titus, 489. For his eminent ser- 
 vices here, he receives triumphal oma- 
 nients at Rome, ib. 
 
 Uffa, erects the kingdom of the East-Angles, 
 510. From him his successors called 
 Uffings, ib. 
 
 Victor inus, a Moor, appeases a commotion 
 in Britain, 498. 
 
 Victorinus, of Tolosa, made prefect of this 
 island, .501. 
 
 Victred, the son of Ecbert, obtaining the 
 kingdom of Kent, settles all things in 
 peace, .522, 523. After 34 years reign, he 
 deceaseth, 524. 
 
 Videna, slays her son Porrex in revenge of 
 her other *son Ferrex, 430. 
 
 Vigenius and Psredure, expelling their 
 brother Elidure, share the kingdom be- 
 tween them, 482. 
 
 Virgil, misquoted for the unlimited power 
 of kings, 349. 
 
 Virius Lupus, has the north part of the go- 
 vernment assigned him by Severus the 
 emperor, 497. 
 
 Virtue, ever highly rewarded by the an- 
 cient Romans, 489. The only foundation 
 of true liberty, 947. 
 
 Utfketet, duke of the East- Angles, sets upon 
 the Danes with great valour, 546. His 
 army defeated through the subtlety of a 
 Danish servant, ib. He is slain with 
 several other dukes, at the fatal battle of 
 Assandune, .549. 
 
 Ulpius Marcellus, sent lieutenant into 
 Britain by Commodus, ends the war by 
 his valour and prudence, 496. 
 
 United Provinces. See States. 
 
 Vortigern, his character, 506. Advised by 
 his council to invite in the Saxons against 
 the Scots and Picts, ib. He bestows 
 upon Hengist and the Saxons, the Isle of 
 Thanet, .507. Then all Kent upon a mar- 
 riage with Rowen, Hengist's daughter, 
 ib. Condemned in a synod for incest 
 with his daughter, he retires to a castle 
 in Radnorshire, 508. His son Guortimer 
 dead, he resumes the government, ib. 
 Drawn into a snare by Hengist, 509. Re- 
 tiring again, is bumtin his tower, ib. 
 
 Vortipor, reigns in Demetia, or South 
 Wales, 513. 
 
 Vows, remarks on those of King Charles, 
 326. 
 
 Urianus, reckoned in the number of an- 
 cient British kings, 482. 
 
 Uther Pendrngon, thought to be the same 
 with Natanleod, 510. 
 
 Uthred, submits himself with the Northum- 
 brians to Swane, 547. To Canute, .548. 
 He is slain by Turebrand a Danish lord, 
 .549. His victory over Malcolm king of 
 Scots, ib. 
 
 Uxbridge, attack at Brentford, during the 
 treaty there, 318. 
 
 Uzziah, thrust out of the temple for his 
 opinioned zeal, 310. Thrust out of the 
 temple as a leper by the priests, 3.52. 
 Ceased to be king, ib. 
 
 W 
 
 TValdenses, denied tithes to be given in the 
 primitive church, 428. Maintained their 
 ministers by alms only, 434, 43-5. 
 
 Wedlock, exposition of several texts of 
 Scripture relating to it, 170. When unfit, 
 ungodly, and discordant, to be dissolved 
 by divorce, 204. See Marriage, <J-c. 
 
 Wen, fable of the Wen, head and members 
 of the body, 13. 
 
 Wesembechius, his opinion concerning di- 
 vorce, 218. 
 
 Westfriezland, letter from the Protector 
 Richard to the states of that province, 
 636. 
 
 Westminster- Abbey, rebuilt and endowed 
 by Edward the Confessor, 5.54. 
 
 West-Saxon kingdom, by whom erected, 
 510. West-Saxons and their kings con- 
 verted to the christian faith by Berinus, 
 519. 
 
 Wibba, succeeds Crida in the Mercian 
 kingdom, 514. 
 
 Wickliffe, before the bishops in the reform- 
 ation, 74. 
 
 Wilbrod, a priest, goes over with 12 others 
 to preach the gospel in Germany, 523. 
 Countenanced by Pepin, chief regent of 
 the Franks, and made first bishop of that 
 nation, ib. 
 
 Wilfred, bishop of the Northumbrians, de- 
 prived by Ecfrid of his bishopric, wan- 
 ders as far as Rome, .522. Returning, 
 plants the gospel in the Isle of Wight, and 
 other places assigned him, ib. Has the 
 fourth part of that island given him by 
 Kedwalla, which he bestows on Bertwin, 
 a priest, his sister's son, ib. 
 
 Wilfrida, a nun, taken by force, and kept 
 as a concubine by King Edgar, 543. 
 
 William the Conqueror, swears to behave 
 as a good king ought to do, 393, 561. Re- 
 markable law of Edward the Confessor, 
 confirmed by him, 400. Honourably en- 
 tertained by King Edward, and richly 
 dismissed, 555. He betroths his daugh- 
 ter to Harold, who swears to assist him 
 to the crown of England, .558. Sending 
 after King Edward's death, to demand 
 13 
 
INDEX. 
 
 performance of his promise, is put off 
 with a slight answer, .'>.'j9. He lands with 
 an army at Hastintr*. .V50. Overthrows 
 Harold, who, with his two brother*, is 
 slain in battle, ib. Crowned at West- 
 minster by Aldred, archbishop of York, 
 561. 
 
 William of Malmsbur>'. a better historian 
 than any of his predecessors. 524. His 
 account'of the dissoluteness of manners, 
 both of the Enplish clergy and laity, 561. 
 
 fFillowbu, Sir Hugh, made admiral of a 
 fleet, lor the discovery of the northern 
 parts, 577. Puts into Arzina in Lapland, 
 where he and his company perish with 
 cold. ib. 
 
 Winchetter, by whom built. 479. 
 
 Wine, if prohibited to l)e imported, might 
 prevent drunkenness, 193. 
 
 fFipped, a Saxon earl, slain at a place call- 
 ed Wippedsfleot. which thence took its 
 denommation. .108. 
 
 Witkgar. See Stuf. 
 
 WUhgarburgh, in the Isle of Wight, the 
 burial place of Withgar, 511. 
 
 Withlaf, the successor of Ludiken, van- 
 quished by Ect)ert, to whom all Mercia 
 becomes tributary, 5381 
 
 Wologda, in Russia, winter and summer 
 
 churches there, 569. 
 Wolve*, when and by whom rooted out of 
 
 England. 542. 
 Woman, that she should give law to man, 
 
 said to be awry from the law of God and 
 
 nature, 4S1. 
 Writing, freedom of it to l)e allowed, 103, 
 
 113. The restraint of it a discourage- 
 ment to learned and religious men, 113, 
 
 114. See Licensing. 
 
 Wulfer, the son ofPenda, set iip by the 
 Mercian nobles, In the room or his bro- 
 ther Oswi, 521. Said to have been taken 
 prisoner by Kenwalk, the West-Saxon, ib. 
 He takes and wastes the Isle of Wight, 
 but causes the inhabitants to t>e bap- 
 tized, ib. Gives the island to Ethelwald, 
 king of South-Saxons, t*. Sends Jaru- 
 mannus to recover the East-Saxons, fallen 
 off the second time from Christianity, t*. 
 Lindsey taken from him by Ecfri'd of 
 Northumberland, .522. His death accom- 
 panied with the stain of simony, ib. 
 
 Wulfherii, King EthelwolPs chief captain, 
 drives back the Danes at Southampton 
 with great slaughter, 530. He dies the 
 same year, as it is thought, of age, ib. 
 
 Wulketul, earl of Ely, put to flight with his 
 whole army, by the Danes, 533. 
 
 Xenophoti, according to him, tyrannicides 
 were honoured by the people, 380. 
 
 ymner, king of Loegria, with others, slai 
 in battle by Dunwallo Molmutius, 480. 
 
 Youth, exercise and recreations proper foi 
 them, 101. 
 
 Zeal, poetical description of it. 83. &1. Re- 
 commended by the Scripture, in re- 
 proving notorious faults, 84. 
 
 Zipporah, sent away by Moses for her pro- 
 taneness. 131. 
 
 Zones, Salmasius's account of them, 392. 
 
 Zorobabel, asserted truth to be the strong- 
 est of all tilings, 333. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 BDNGAVi STBRROTtrPBO AMD PBINTBD nV i. R. AND C. CHILDS. 
 
THE 
 
 POETICAL WORKS 
 
 JOHN MILTON. 
 
 PARIS: 
 
 A. & W. GALIGNANI & Co. RUE VIVIENNE. 
 
 STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY J. R. AND C, CHILDS, BUNGAY. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 
 
 Page 
 
 PARADISE LOST, Book I. 
 
 5 
 
 
 Book II. . 
 
 12 
 
 
 Book III. . 
 
 21 
 
 
 Book IV. . 
 
 27 
 
 
 Book V. 
 
 36 
 
 
 Book VI. . 
 
 44 
 
 
 Book VII. . 
 
 52 
 
 
 Book VIII. 
 
 57 
 
 
 Book IX. . 
 
 63 
 
 
 Book X. 
 
 73 
 
 
 Book XI. . 
 
 83 
 
 
 Book XII. . 
 
 90 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED, Book I. . 
 
 97 
 
 
 Book II. . 
 
 102 
 
 
 Book III. 
 
 106 
 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 110 
 
 Samson Agonistes 
 
 
 117 
 
 Lycidas 
 
 
 133 
 
 L'Allegro 
 
 
 135 
 
 11 Penseroso 
 
 
 136 
 
 Arcades 
 
 
 138 
 
 Com us 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 140 
 
 To the Nightingale 150 
 
 On his being arrived at the Age of Twenty-three ib. 
 
 When the assault was intended to the City ib. 
 
 To a virtuous young Lady .... ib. 
 
 To the Lady Margaret Ley .... ib. 
 On the Detraction which followed upon my 
 
 writing certain Treatises 151 
 
 On the same ib. 
 
 To Mr. H. Lawes, on the publishing his Airs ib. 
 On the religious memory of Mrs. Catherine 
 
 Thomson ib. 
 
 To the Lord General Fairfax . . . ib. 
 
 To the Lord General Cromwell » . ib. 
 
 To Sir Henry Vane, the Younger 
 
 On the late Massacre in Pieniont 
 
 On his Blindness 
 
 To Mr. Lawrence 
 
 To Cyriack Skinner 
 
 To the same 
 
 On his deceased Wife 
 
 ODES. 
 
 On the Morning of Christ's Nativity 
 
 The Passion .... 
 
 Upon the Circumcision 
 
 On the Death of a fair Infant 
 
 On Time ..... 
 
 At a solemn Music 
 
 An Epitaph on the Marchioness of Winchester 
 
 Song on May Morning .... 
 
 MISCELLANIES. 
 
 A Vacation Exercise 
 
 An Epitaph on William Shakspeare 
 
 On the University Carrier 
 
 Another on the same 
 
 On the New Forcers of Conscience 
 
 TRANSLATIONS 
 
 The Fifth Ode of Horace, Lib. I. 
 
 From Geoffrey of Monmouth. 
 
 From Dante. 
 
 From Dante. 
 
 From Ariosto. 
 
 From Horace. 
 
 From Euripides. 
 
 From Horace. 
 
 From Horace. 
 
 From Sophocles. 
 
 From Seneca. 
 
 Page 
 152 
 
 ib. 
 
 ib. 
 
 ib. 
 
 ib. 
 
 ib. 
 153 
 
 154 
 156 
 157 
 
 ib. 
 1.58 
 
 ib. 
 
 ib. 
 159 
 
 160 
 161 
 
 ib. 
 
 ib. 
 162 
 
 163 
 
CONTENTS. 
 Page 
 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 
 
 
 Psalm 1 164 
 
 II. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 III. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ih. 
 
 IV. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1&3 
 
 V. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 VI. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 VII. . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 166 
 
 VIII. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 LXXX. . 
 
 
 
 
 
 167 
 
 LXXXI. . 
 
 
 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 LXXXII. . 
 
 
 
 
 
 168 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 
 
 
 169 
 
 LXXXV. . 
 
 
 
 
 170 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 
 
 
 171 
 
 LXXXVIII. . 
 
 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 
 
 
 172 
 
 CXXJ 
 
 LVI. 
 
 
 
 
 
 ib. 
 
 ELEGIARUM LIBER. 
 
 Elegia I. Ad Carolum Deodatum . . 174 
 
 II. In obitum Praecouis Academici Can- 
 tabrigiensis .... 175 
 
 III. In obitura Praesulis Wintoniensis ib. 
 
 IV. Ad Thomara Junium . . . 176 
 
 V. In adventum veris . . . 177 
 
 Page 
 
 Elegia VI. Ad t'aiolmn Deodatum ruri com- 
 
 morantcni ..... 178 
 VII. Anno Stalls 19 . . . 179 
 
 EPIGRAMMATUM LIBER 
 
 In Proditionem Bonibaidicani. 
 In eandem. 
 In eandem. 
 In eandem. 
 
 In Inventorem Bombardoe. 
 Ad Leonoram Romae canentcm. 
 Ad eandem. 
 Ad eandem. 
 
 Apologus de Rustico et Hero. 
 Ad Christinam Suecorum Reginam, nomine 
 Cromwelli. 
 
 SYLVARUM LIBER. 
 
 In obitum Procancellaiii, medici . 
 
 In Quintum Noverabris . . . ' . 
 
 In obitum Praesulis Eliensis 
 
 Naturam non pati Senium .... 
 
 De Idea Platonica quemadraodum Aristoteles 
 
 intellexit 
 
 Ad Patrem 
 
 Psalm CXIV. Grtece 
 
 Ad Salsillum, Poetam Romanum aegrotantem 
 
 Mansus 
 
 Epitapbium Damonis 
 
 Ad Joannem Rousium 
 
 ITALIAN SONNETS .... 
 
 180 
 
 181 
 182 
 
 183 
 184 
 
 185 
 ih. 
 
 186 
 ib. 
 
 187 
 188 
 190 
 
 192 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The First Book proposes, first in brief, the whole subject, Man's disobedience, and the loss thereupon of Paradise, wherein he was 
 placed : then touches the prime cause of his fall, tlie serpent, or rather Satan in the serpent ; who, revolting from God, and draw- 
 ing to his side many legions of angels, was, by the command of God, driven out of heaven, with all his crew, into the great deep, 
 which action passed over, the poem hastens into the midst of things, presenting Satan, with his angels, now fallen into hell, 
 described here, not in the center, (for heaven and earth may be supposed as yet not made, certainly not yet accursed.) but irf a place 
 of utter darkness, fltliest called Chaos : here Satan, with his angels, lying on the burning lake, thunderstruck and astonished, after 
 a certain space recovers, as from confusion, calls up him who next in order and dignity lay by him : they confer of their miserable 
 fall : Satan awakens all his legions, who lay till then in the same manner confounded. They rise ; their numbers ; array of battle: 
 their chief leaiiers named according to the idols known afterwards in Canaan and the countries adjoining. To these Satan directs his 
 speech, comforts them with hope yet of regaining heaven, but tells them lastly of a new world, and a new kind of creature to be 
 created, according to an ancient "prophecy, or report, in heaven; for, that angels were long before this visible creation, was the 
 opinion of many ancient fathers. To And but the truth of this prophecy, and what to determine thereon, he refers to a full council. 
 What his associates thence attempt. Pandemonium, the palace of Satan, rises, suddenly built out of the deep: the infernal peer* 
 there sit in council. 
 
 disooedi 
 
 Of man's firet disoljedlence, and the fruit 
 Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste 
 Brou<»ht death into the worhl, and all our woe. 
 With loss of Eden, till one greater Man 
 Restore us, and regain the blissful seat, 
 Sing-, heavenly muse, that on the secret top 
 Of Oreb, or of Sinai, didst inspire 
 That shepherd who first taught the chosen seed, 
 In the beginning how the heavens and earth 
 Rose out of chaos : or, if Sion hill 
 Deliglit thee more, and Siloa's brook that flowed 
 Fast by the oracle of God ; I thence 
 Invoke thy aid to my adventurous song. 
 That with no middle flight intends to soar 
 Above the Aonian mount, while it pursues 
 Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. 
 And chiefly thou, Spirit, that dost prefer 
 Before all temples the upright heart and pure, 
 Instruct me, for thou knowest ; thou from the first 
 Wast present, and, with mighty wings outspread, 
 Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast abyss. 
 And madest it pregnant : what in me is dark, 
 Illumine ; what is low, raise and support ; 
 That to the highth of this great argument 
 I may assert eternal Providence, 
 And justify the ways of God to men. 
 
 Say first, for heaven hides nothing from thy view, 
 Nor the deep tract of hell ; say first, what cause 
 Moved our grand parents, in that happy state, 
 Favoured of Heaven so highly, to fall oflT 
 
 From their Creator, and transgress his will 
 For one restraint, lords of the world besides ? 
 Who first seduced them to that foul revolt? 
 The infernal Serpent ; he it was, whose guile. 
 Stirred up with envy and revenge, deceived 
 The mother of mankind, what time his pride 
 Had cast him out from heaven, with all his host 
 Of rebel angels; by whose aid, aspiring 
 To set himself in glory above his peers. 
 He trusted to have equalled the Most High, 
 If he opposed; and, with ambitious aim 
 Against the throne and monarchy of God, 
 Raised impious war in heaven, and battle proud, 
 With vain attempt. Him the Almighty Power 
 Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, 
 With hideous ruin and combustion, down 
 To bottomless perdition ; there to dwell 
 In adamantine chains and penal fire. 
 Who durst defy the Omnipotent to arms. 
 Nine times the space that measures day and night 
 To mortal men, he with his horrid crew 
 Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf. 
 Confounded, though immortal : but his doom 
 Reserved him to more wrath ; for now the thought 
 Both of lost happiness and lasting pain 
 Torments him : round he throws his baleful eyes, 
 That witnessed huge affliction and dismay, 
 Mixed with obdurate pride and stedfast hate : 
 At once, as far as angels ken, he views 
 The dismal situation waste and wild ; / . 
 
 y 
 
6 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 A dungeon horrible on all sides round, 
 
 As one great furnace flamed ; yet from those flames 
 
 Ku light ; but rather darkness visible 
 
 Served only to discover sights of woe, 
 
 Regions of sorrow, doleful shades, where peace 
 
 And rest can never dwell : hope never comes 
 
 That comes to all : but torture without end 
 
 Still urges, and a fiery deluge, fed 
 
 Witli ever-burning sulphur unconsumed : 
 
 Such place eternal justice had prepared 
 
 For those rebellious; here their prison ordained 
 
 In utter darkness, and their portion set 
 
 As far removed from God and light of heaven. 
 
 As from tlie center thrice to the utmost pole. 
 
 O, how unlike the place from whence they fell ! 
 
 There the companions of his fall, o'erwhelmed 
 
 With floods and whirlwinds of tempestuous fire. 
 
 He soon discerns; and weltering by his side 
 
 One next himself in power, and next in crime. 
 
 Long after known in Palestine, and named 
 
 Beelzebub. To whom the arch-enemy. 
 
 And thence in heaven called Satan, with bold words 
 
 Breaking the horrid silence, thus began : 
 
 • If thou beest he ; but O, how fallen ! how changed 
 From him, who, in the happy realms of light. 
 Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine 
 Myriads though bright ! If he whom mutual league, 
 United thoughts and counsels, equal hope 
 And liazard in the glorious enterprise, 
 Joined with me once, now misery hath joined 
 In equal ruin : into what pit thou seest 
 From what highth fallen, so much the stronger proved 
 He with his thunder: and till then who knew 
 The force of those dire arms ? Yet not for those, 
 Nor what the potent Victor in his rage 
 Can else inflict, do I repent or change. 
 Though changed in outward lustre, that fixed mind, 
 And high disdain from sense of injured merit, 
 That with the Mightiest raised me to contend. 
 And to the fierce contention brought along 
 Innumerable force of spirits armed. 
 That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring, 
 His utmost power with adverse power o])posed 
 In dubious battle on the plains of heaven. 
 And shook his throne. \Vhat though the field be lost.'' 
 All is not lost; the unconquerable will. 
 And study of revenge, immortal hate, 
 And courage never to submit or yield. 
 And what is else not to be overcome ; 
 That glory never shall his wrath or might 
 Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace 
 With suppliant knee, and deify his power 
 Who fro?n the terror of this arm so late 
 Doubted his empire; that were low indeed, 
 That were an ignominy, and shame beneath 
 This downfall : since by fate the strength of gods 
 And this empyreal substance cannot fail ; 
 Since through experience of this great event 
 In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced, 
 We may with more successful hope resolve 
 To wage by force or guile eternal war, 
 
 Irreconcilable to our grand foe. 
 
 Who now triumphs, and, in the excess of joy 
 
 Sole reigning, holds the tyranny of heaven.' 
 
 So spake the apostate angel, though in pain, 
 Vaunting aloud, but racked with deep despair; 
 And him thus answered soon his bold compeer : 
 
 ' O prince, chief of many throned powers, 
 That led the embattled seraphim to war 
 Under thy conduct, and in dreadful deeds 
 Fearless endangered heavens pei'petual King, 
 And put to proof his high supremacy. 
 Whether upheld by strength, or chance, or fate ; 
 Too well I see, and rue the dirfc event. 
 That with sad overthrow, and foul defeat. 
 Hath lost us heaven, and all this mighty host 
 In horrible destruction laid thus low. 
 As far as gods and heavenly essences 
 Can perish : for the mind and spirit remains 
 Invincible, and vigour soon returns. 
 Though all our glory extinct, and happy state 
 Here swallowed up in endless misery. 
 But what if he our Conqueror (whom I now 
 Of force believe almighty, since no less 
 Than such could have o'erpowered such force as ours) 
 Have left us this our spirit and strength entire 
 Strongly to suflTer and support our pains. 
 That we may so suflice his vengeful ire. 
 Or do him mightier service as his thralls 
 By right of war, whate'er his business be, 
 Here in the heart of hell to work in fire 
 Or do his errands in the gloomy deep ? 
 What can it then avail, though yet we feel 
 Strength undiminished, or eternal being 
 To undergo eternal punishment.'" 
 Whereto with speedy words the arch-fiend replied . 
 
 * Fallen cherub, to be weak is miserable 
 Doing or suflTering; but of tbis be sure. 
 To do aught good never will be our task, 
 But ever to do ill our sole delight, 
 As being the contrary to his high will 
 Whom we resist. If then his providence 
 Out of our evil seek to bring forth good, 
 Our labour must be to pervert that end. 
 And out of good still to find means of evil ; 
 Which oft-times may succeed, so as perhaps 
 Shall grieve him, if I fail not, and disturb 
 His inmost counsels from their destined aim. 
 But see, the angry Victor hath recalled 
 His ministers of vengeance and pursuit 
 Back to the gates of heaven : the sulphurous hail. 
 Shot after us in storm, o'crblown, hath laid 
 The fiery surge, that from the precipice 
 Of heaven received us falling ; and the thunder. 
 Winged with red lightning and impetuous rage. 
 Perhaps hath spent his shafts, and ceases now 
 To bellow through the vast and boundless deep. 
 Let us not slip the occasion, ^>•hether scorn 
 Or satiate fury yield it from our foe. 
 Seest thou you dreary plain, forlorn and wild, 
 The seat of desolation, void of light. 
 Save what the glimmering of these livid flames 
 
 / .- 
 
Book I. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Casts pale and dreadful ? Thither let us tend 
 From off the tossing of these fierj waves ; 
 There rest, if any rest can harbour there; 
 And, reassembling our afflicted powers, 
 Consult how we may henceforth most offend 
 Our enemy; our own loss how repair; 
 How overcome this dire calamity ; 
 What reinforcement we may gtiin from hope ; 
 If not, what resolution from despair.' 
 
 Thus Satan, talking to his nearest mate. 
 With head up-lift above the wave, and eyes 
 That sparkling blazed ; his other parts besides 
 Prone on the flood, extended long and large, 
 Lay floating many a rood; in bulk as huge 
 As whom the fables name of monstrous size, 
 Titanian, or Earth-born, that warred on Jove ; 
 Briarcos or Typhon, whom the den 
 By ancient Tarsus held ; or that sea-beast 
 Leviathan, which God of all his works 
 Created hugest that swim the ocean stream : 
 Him, haply, slumbering on the Norway foam. 
 The pilot of some small night-foundered skiff 
 Deeming some island, oft, as seamen tell. 
 With fixed anchor in his scaly rind 
 Moors by his side under the lee, while night 
 Invests the sea, and wished morn delays : 
 So stretched out huge iu length the arch-fiend lay 
 Chained on the burning lake: nor ever thence 
 Had risen, or heaved his head ; but that the will 
 And high permission of all-ruling Heaven 
 Left him at large to his own dark designs ; 
 That with reiterated crimes he might 
 Heap on himself damnation, while he sought 
 Evil to others; and, enraged, might see 
 How all his malice served but to bring forth 
 Infinite goodness, grace, and mercy, shown 
 On man by him seduced ; but on himself 
 Treble confusion, wrath, and vengeance poured. 
 Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool 
 His mighty stature ; on each hand the flames. 
 Driven backward, slope their pointing spires, and, rolled 
 In billows, leave in the midst a horrid vale. 
 Then with expanded wings he steers his flight 
 Aloft, incumbent on the dusky air, 
 That felt unusual weight; till on dryland 
 He lights, if it were land that ever burned 
 With solid, as the lake with liquid fire ; 
 And such appeared in hue, as when the force 
 Of subterranean wind transports a hill 
 Torn from Pelorus, or the shattered side 
 Of thundering iEtna, whose combustible 
 And fuelled entrails thence conceiving fire, 
 Sublimed with mineral fury, aid the winds, 
 And leave a singed bottom all involved 
 With stench and smoke : such resting found the sole 
 Of unblest feet. Him followed his next mate : 
 Both glorying to have 'scaped the Stygian flood 
 As gods, and by their own recovered strength. 
 Not by the sufferance of supernal power. 
 
 * Is this the region, this the soil, the clime,' 
 Said then the lost archangel, ' this the seat 
 
 That we must change for heaven ; this mournful gloom 
 For that celestial light? Be it so, since he. 
 Who now is Sovran, can dispose and bid 
 What shall be right; farthest from him is best. 
 Whom reason hath equalled, force hath made supreme 
 Above his equals. Farewell, happy fields. 
 Where joy for ever dwells ! Hail horrors, hail 
 Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell. 
 Receive thy new possessor ; one who brings 
 A mind not to be changed by place or time: 
 The mind is its own place, and in itself 
 Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven. 
 What matter where, if I be still the same. 
 And what I should be ; all but less than he 
 Whom thunder hath made greater.'' Here at least 
 We shall be free ; the Almighty hath not built 
 Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : 
 Here we may reign secure, and, in my choice, 
 To reign is worth ambition, though in hell : 
 Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven. 
 But wherefore let we then our faithful friends. 
 The associates and copartnei-s of our loss. 
 Lie thus astonished on the oblivious pool. 
 And call them not to share with us their part 
 In this unhappy mansion ; or once more 
 With rallied arms to try what may be yet 
 Regained in heaven, or what more lost in hell ?* 
 
 So Satan spake, and him Beelzebub 
 Thus answered : ' Leader of those armies bright. 
 Which but the Omnipotent none could have foiled. 
 If once they hear that voice, their liveliest pledge 
 Of hope in fears and dangers, heard so oft 
 In worst extremes, and on the perilous edge 
 Of battle when it raged, in all assaults 
 Tiieir surest signal, they will soon resume 
 New courage and revive ; though now they lie 
 Grovelling and prostrate on yon lake of fire, 
 As we erewhile, astounded and amazed ; 
 No wonder, fallen such a pernicious highth.' 
 
 He scarce had ceased when the superior fiend 
 Was moving toward tiie shore : his ponderous shield, 
 Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round. 
 Behind him cast; the broad circumference 
 Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb 
 Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views 
 At evening from the top of Fesole, 
 Or in Valdanio, to descry new lands, 
 Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. 
 His spear, to equal which the tallest pine 
 Hewn on Norwegian hills, to be the mast 
 Of some great amiral, were but a wand. 
 He walked with, to support uneasy steps 
 Over the burning marie, not like those steps 
 On heaven's azure, and the torrid clime 
 Smote on him sore besides, vaulted with fire: 
 Nathless he so endured, till on the beach 
 Of that inflamed sea he stood, and called 
 His legions, angel forms, who lay intranced 
 Thick as autumnal leaves that strew the brooks 
 In Vallombrosa, where the Etrurian shades. 
 High over-arched, imbower ; or scattered sedge 
 
8 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 Afloat, when with fierce winds Orion armed 
 
 Hath vexed the Red-sea coast, whose waves o'erthrew 
 
 Busiris and his Memphian chivalry, 
 
 While with perfidious hatred they pursued 
 
 The sojourners of Goshen, who beiield 
 
 From the safe shore their floating' carcases 
 
 And broken chariot-wheels : so thick bestrewn, 
 
 Abject and lost lay these, covering^ the flood, 
 
 Under amazement of their hideous change. 
 
 He called so loud, that all the hollow deep 
 
 Of hell resounded. ' Princes, potentates, 
 
 Warriors, the flower of heaven, once yours, now lost. 
 
 If such astonishment as this can seize 
 
 Eternal spirits; or have ye chosen this place 
 
 After the toil of battle to repose 
 
 Your wearied virtue, for the ease you find 
 
 To slumber here, as in the vales of heaven ? 
 
 Or in this abject posture have ye sworn 
 
 To adore the Conqueror? who now beholds 
 
 Cherub and seraph rolling in the flood 
 
 With scattered arms and ensigns, till anon 
 
 His swift pursuers from heaven-gates discern 
 
 The advantage, and descending, tread us down 
 
 Thus drooping, or with linked thunderbolts 
 
 Transfix us to the bottom of this gulf. 
 
 Awake, arise, or be for ever fallen.' 
 
 They heard, and were abashed, and up they sprung 
 Upon the wing; as when men wont to watch 
 On duty, sleeping found by whom they dread. 
 Rouse and bestir themselves ere well awake. 
 Nor did they not perceive the evil plight 
 In which they were, or the fierce pains not feel ; 
 Yet to their general's voice they soon obeyed, 
 Innumerable. As when the potent rod 
 Of Amram's son, in Egypt's evil day, 
 Waved round the coast, up called a pitchy cloud 
 Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind. 
 That o'er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung 
 Like night, and darkened all the land of Nile : 
 So numberless were those bad angels seen 
 Hovering on wing under the cope of hell, 
 Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires; 
 Till at a signal given, the uplifted spear 
 Of their great sultan waving to direct 
 Their course, in even balance down they light 
 On the firm brimstone, and fill all the ])lain : 
 A multitude like which the populous north 
 Poured never from her frozen loins, to pass 
 Rhene or the Danaw, w hen her barbarous sons 
 Came like a deluge on the south, and spread 
 Beneath Gibraltar to the Libyan sands. 
 Forthwith from every squadron and each band 
 The heads and leaders thither haste where stood 
 Their great commander; godlike shapes and forms 
 Excelling human, princely dignities; 
 And powers that erst in heaven sat on thrones, 
 Though of their names in heavenly records now 
 Be no memorial ; blotted out and rased 
 By their rebellion from the books of life. 
 Nor had they yet among the sons of Eve 
 0»»t them new names ; till wandering o'er the earth, 
 
 Through God's high suflferance for the trial of man, 
 By falsities and lies the greatest part 
 Of mankind they corrupted to forsake 
 God their Creator, and the invisible 
 Glory of him that made them to transform 
 Oft to the image of a brute, adorned 
 With gay religions, full of pomp and gold, 
 And devils to adore for deities : 
 Then were they known to men by various names, 
 And various idols through the heathen world. \ 
 
 Say, muse, their names then known, who first, who 
 last. 
 Roused from the slumber on that fiery couch. 
 At their great emperor's call, as next in worth 
 Came singly where he stood on the bare strand, 
 While the promiscuous crowd stood yet aloof. 
 The chief were those, who, from the pit of hell. 
 Roaming to seek their prey on earth, durst fix 
 Their seats long after next the seat of God, 
 Their altars by his altar, gods adored 
 Among the nations round, and durst abide 
 Jehovah thundering out of Sion, throned 
 Between the cherubim ; yea, often placed 
 Within his sanctuary itself their shrines. 
 Abominations ; and with cursed things 
 His holy rites and solemn feasts profaned. 
 And with their darkness durst affront his light. 
 First, Moloch, horrid king, besmeared with blood 
 Of human sacrifice, and parents' tears ; 
 Though for the noise of drums and timbrels loud 
 Their children's cries unheard, that passed through 
 
 fire 
 To his grim idol. Him the Ammonite 
 Worshipped in Rabba and her watery plain, 
 In Argob and in Basan, to the stream 
 Of utmost Arnon. Nor content with such 
 Audacious neighbourhood, the wisest heart 
 Of Solomon he led by fraud to build 
 His temple right against the temple of God 
 On that opprobrious hill ; and made his grove 
 The pleasant valley of Hinnoni, Tophet thence 
 And black Gehenna called, the type of hell. 
 Next, Chemos, the obscene dread of Moab's sons, 
 From Aroer to Nebo, and the wild 
 Of southmost Abarim ; in Hesebon 
 And Horonaim, Seon's realm, bejond 
 The flowery dale of Sibma, clad with vines, 
 And Elejile to the asphaltic pool. 
 Peor his other name, when he enticed 
 Israel in Sittim, on their march from Nile, 
 To do him wanton rites, which cost them woe. 
 Yet thence his lustful orgies he enlarged 
 Even to that hill of scandal, by the grove 
 Of Moloch homicide; lust hard by hate; 
 Till good Josiah drove them thence to hell. 
 With these came they, w ho, fronj the bordering flood 
 Of old Euphrates to the brook that parts 
 Egypt from Syrian ground, had general names 
 Of Baiilim and .Vshtarotli; those male. 
 These feminine: for spirits, when they please. 
 Can either sex assume, or both ; so soft 
 
Book I. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And uncompounded is their essence pure ; 
 Not tied or manacled with joint or limb, 
 Nor founded on the brittle strength of bones, 
 Like cumbrous flesh ; but, in what shape they choose, 
 Dilated or condensed, bright or obscure, 
 Can execute their aery purposes, 
 And works of love or enmity fulfil. 
 For those the race of Israel oft forsook 
 Their living Strength, and unfrequented left 
 His righteous altar, bowing lowly down 
 To bestial gods; for which their heads as low- 
 Bowed down in battle, sunk before the spear 
 Of despicable foes. With these in troop 
 Came Astoreth, whom the Phoenicians called 
 Astarte, queen of heaven, with crescent horns; 
 To whose bright image nightly by the moon 
 Sidonian virgins paid their vows and songs ; 
 In Sion also not unsung, where stood 
 Her temple on the offensive mountain built 
 By that uxorious king, whose heart, though large, 
 Beguiled by fair idolatresses, fell 
 To idols foul. Thammuz came next behind, 
 Whose annual wound in Lebanon allured 
 The Syrian damsels to lament his fate 
 In amorous ditties all a summer's day; 
 While smooth Adonis from his native rock 
 Ran purple to the sea, supposed with blood 
 Of Thammuz yearly wounded ; the love-tale 
 Infected Sion's daughters with like beat ; 
 Whose wanton passions in the sacred porch 
 Ezekiel saw, when, by the vision led, 
 His eye surveyed the dark idolatries 
 Of alienated Jiidah. Next came one 
 Who mourned in earnest, when the captive ark 
 Maimed his brute image, head and hands lopped off 
 In his own temple, on tiie grunsel edge. 
 Where he fell flat, and shamed his worshippers: 
 Dagon his name, sea-monster, upward man 
 And downward fish : yet had his tem])le high 
 Reared in Azotus, dreaded through the coast 
 Of Palestine, in Gath and Ascalon, 
 And Accaron and Gazar's frontier bounds. 
 Him followed Rinimon, whose delightful seat 
 Was fair Damascus, on the fertile banks 
 Of Abbana and Pharphar, lucid streams. 
 He also against the house of God was bold : 
 A leper once be lost, and gained a king; 
 Ahaz his sottish conqueror, whom he drew 
 God's altar to disparage and displace 
 For one of Syrian mode, whereon to burn 
 His odious offerings, and adore the gods 
 Whom he had vanquished. After these appeared 
 A crew, who, under names of old renown, 
 Osiris, Isis, Orus, and their train. 
 With monstrous shapes and sorceries abused 
 Fanatic Egypt and her priests, to seek 
 Their wandering gods disguised in brutish forms 
 Rather than human. Nor did Israel 'scape 
 The infection, when their borrowed gold composed 
 The calf in Oreb ; and the rebel king 
 Doubled that sin in Bethel and in Dan, 
 
 Likening his Maker to the grazed ox ; 
 Jehovah, who in one night, when he passed 
 From Egypt marching, equalled with one stroke 
 Both her first-born and all her bleating gods. 
 Belial came last, than whom a spirit more lewd 
 Fell not from heaven, or more gross to love 
 Vice for itself: to him no temple stood. 
 Or altar smoked ; yet who more oft than he 
 In temples and at altars, when the priest 
 Turns atheist, as did Eli's sons, who filled 
 With lust and violence the house of God ? 
 In courts and palaces he also reigns. 
 And in luxurious cities, where the noise 
 Of riot ascends above their loftiest towers. 
 And injury and outrage : and when night 
 Darkens the streets, then wander forth the sons 
 Of Belial, flown with insolence and wine. 
 Witness the streets of Sodom, and that night 
 In Gibeah, when the hospitable door 
 Exposed a matron, to avoid worse rape. 
 These were the prime in order and in might : 
 The rest were long to tell, though far renowned. 
 The Ionian gods, of Javan's issue; held 
 Gods, yet confessed later than heaven and earth, 
 Their boasted parents : Titan, heaven's first-born, 
 With his enormous brood, and birthright seized 
 By younger Saturn ; he from mightier Jove, 
 His own and Rhea's son, like measure found ; 
 So Jove usurping reigned : these first in Crete 
 And Ida known, thence on the snowy top 
 Of cold Olympus, ruled the middle air. 
 Their highest heaven ; or on the Delphian cliff, 
 Or in Dodona, and through all the bounds 
 Of Doric land : or who with Saturn old 
 Fled over Adria to the Hesperian fields. 
 And o'er the Celtic roamed the utmost isles. 
 
 All these and more came flocking; but with looks 
 Downcast and damp; yet such wherein appeared 
 Obscure some glimpse of joy, to have found their chief 
 Not in despair, to have found themselves not lost 
 In loss itself: which on his countenance cast 
 Like doubtful hue: but he, his wonted pride 
 Soon recollecting, with high words, that bore 
 Semblance of worth, not substance, gently raised 
 Their fainting courage, and dispelled their fears. 
 Then straight commands, that at the warlike sound 
 Of trumpets loud and clarions be upreared 
 His mighty standard : that proud honour claim'd 
 Azazel as his right, a cherub tall ; 
 Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurled 
 The imperial ensign; which, full high advanced, 
 Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind. 
 With gems and golden lutre rich emblazed. 
 Seraphic arms and trophies; all the while 
 Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds : 
 At which the universal host up-sent 
 A shout, that tore hell's concave, and beyond 
 Frighted the reign of Chaos and old Night. 
 All in a moment through the gloom were seen 
 Ten thousand banners rise into the air 
 With orient colours waving : with them rose 
 
10 
 
 ,^ 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 A forest huge of spears ; and thronging helms 
 Appeared, and serried shields in thick array 
 Of depth immeasurable : anon they move 
 In perfect phalanx to the Dorian mood 
 Of flutes and soft recorders; such as raised 
 To bighth of noblest temper heroes old 
 Arming to battle ; and instead of rage, 
 Deliberate valour breathed, firm and unmoved 
 With dread of death to flight or foul retreat : 
 Nor wanting power to mitigate and 'suage 
 With solemn touches troubled thoughts, and chase 
 Anguish, and doubt, and fear, and sorrow, and pain 
 From mortal or immortal minds. Thus they, 
 Breathing united force, with fixed thought, 
 Moved on in silence to soft pipes, that charmed 
 Their painful steps o'er the burnt soil : and now 
 Advanced in view they stand ; a horrid front 
 Of dreadful length and dazzling arms, in guise 
 Of warriors old with ordered spear and shield ; 
 Awaiting what command their mighty chief 
 Had to impose : he through the armed files 
 Darts his experienced eye, and soon traverse 
 The whole battalion views, their order due. 
 Their visages and stature as of gods ; 
 Their number last he sums. And now his heart 
 Distends with pride, and hardening in his strength 
 Glories: for never since created man 
 Met such embodied force, as named with these 
 Could merit more than that small infantry 
 Warred on by cranes: though all the giant brood 
 Of Phlegra with the heroic race were joined 
 That fought at Thebes and Ilium, on each side 
 Mixed with auxiiiar gods; and what resounds 
 In fable or romance of Uther's son 
 Begirt w ith British and Armoric knights ; 
 And all who since, baptized or infidel, 
 Jousted in Aspramont, or Montalban, 
 Damasco, or Marocco, or Trebisond, 
 Or whom Biserta sent from Afric shore, 
 When Charlemain with all his peerage fell 
 By Fontarabbia. Thus far these beyond 
 Compare of mortal prowess, yet observed 
 Their dread commander: he above the rest 
 In shape and gesture proudly eminent. 
 Stood like a tower; his form had yet not lost 
 All her original brightness ; nor appeared 
 Less than archangel ruined, and the excess 
 Of glory obscured : as when the sun, new risen. 
 Looks through the horizontal misty air 
 Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon, 
 In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds 
 On half the nations, and with fear of change 
 Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone 
 Above them all the archangel : but his face 
 Deep scars of thunder had intrenched ; and care 
 Sat on his faded cheek ; but under brows 
 Of dauntless courage, and considerate pride 
 Waiting revenge ; cruel his eye, but cast 
 Signs of remorse and passion, to behold 
 The fellows of his crime, the followers rather, 
 (Far other once beheld in bliss,) condemned 
 
 For ever now to have their lot in pain: 
 Millions of spirits for his fault amerced 
 Of heaven, and from eternal splendours flung 
 For his revolt, yet faithful how they stood. 
 Their glory withered : as when heaven's fire 
 Hath scathed the forest oaks, or mountain pines. 
 With singed top their stately growth, though bare 
 Stands on the blasted heath. He now prepared 
 To speak ; whereat their doubled ranks they bend 
 From wing to wing, and half enclose him round 
 With all his peers : attention held them mute. 
 Thrice he assayed, and thrice, in spite of scorn, 
 Tears, such as angels weep, burst forth : at last 
 Words, interwove with sighs, found out their way. 
 
 * O myriads of immortal spirits ! O powers 
 Matchless, but with the Almighty ; and that strife 
 Was not inglorious, though the event was dire, 
 As this place testifies, and this dire change 
 Hateful to utter ! but what power of mind, 
 Foreseeing or presaging, from the depth 
 Of knowledge, past or present, could have feared, 
 How such united force of gods, how such 
 As stood like these, could ever know repulse ? 
 For who can yet believe, though after loss, 
 That all these puissant legions, whose exile 
 Hath emptied heaven, shall fail to reascend 
 Self-raised, and repossess their native seat? 
 For me, be witness all the host of heaven, 
 If counsels different, or dangers shunued 
 By me, have lost our hopes. But he who reign 
 Monarch in heaven, till then as one secure 
 Sat on his throne upheld by old repute. 
 Consent or custom ; and his regal state 
 Put forth at full, but still his strength concealed. 
 Which tempted our attempt, and wrought our fall. 
 Henceforth his might we know, and know our own 
 So as not either to provoke or dread 
 New war, provoked ; our better part remains 
 To work in close design, by fraud or guile, 
 What force effected not : that he no less 
 At length from us may find, who overcomes 
 By force, hath overcome but half his foe. 
 Space may produce new worlds; whereof so rife 
 There went a fame in heaven that he ere long 
 Intended to create, and therein plant 
 A generation, whom his choice regard 
 Should favour equal to the sons of heaven : 
 Thither, if but to pry, shall be perhaps 
 Our first eruption ; thither or elsewhere ; 
 For this infernal pit shall never hold 
 Celestial spirits in bondage, nor the abyss 
 Long under darkness cover. But these thoughts 
 Full counsel must mature : peace is despaired ; 
 For who can think submission ? War, tlien, war. 
 Open or understood, must be resolved.' 
 
 He spake ; and, to confirm his words, out-flew 
 Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs 
 Of mighty cherubim ; the sudden blaze 
 Far round illumined hell ; highly they raged 
 Against the Highest, and fierce with grasped arms 
 Clashed on their sounding shields the din of war, 
 
Book I. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 11 
 
 Hurling- defiance toward the vault of heaven. 
 There stood a hill not far, whose grisly top 
 Belched fire and rolling smoke; the rest entire 
 Shone with a glossy scurf; undoubted sign 
 That in his womb was hid metallic ore, 
 The work of sulphur. Thither, winged with speed, 
 A numerous brigade hastened : as when bands 
 Of pioneers, with spade and pickax armed, 
 Forerun the royal camp to trench a field, 
 Or cast a rampart. Mammon led them on : 
 Mammon, the least erected spirit that fell 
 From heaven ; for e'en in heaven his looks and thoughts 
 Were always downward bent, admiring more 
 The riches of heaven's pavement, trodden gold, 
 Than aught, divine or holy, else enjoyed 
 In vision beatific : by him first 
 Men also, and by his suggestion taught. 
 Ransacked the center, and with impious hands 
 Rifled the bowels of their mother earth 
 For treasures, better hid. Soon had his crew 
 Opened into the hill a spacious wound, 
 And digged out ribs of gold. Let none admire 
 That riches grow in hell ; that soil may best 
 Deserve the precious bane. And here let those, 
 Who boast in mortal things, and wondering tell 
 Of Babel, and the works of Memphian kings, 
 Learn how their greatest monuments of fame. 
 And strength and art, are easily outdone 
 By spirits reprobate, and in an hour 
 What in an age they with incessant toil 
 And hands innumerable scarce perform. 
 Nigh on the plain, in many cells prepared, 
 That underneath had veins of liquid fire 
 Sluiced from the lake, a second multitude 
 With wondrous art founded the massy ore. 
 Severing each kind, and scummed the bullion dross: 
 A third as soon had formed within the ground 
 A various mould, and from the boiling cells. 
 By strange conveyance, filled each hollow nook ; 
 As in an organ, from one blast of wind. 
 To many a row of pipes the sound-board breathes. 
 Anon, out of the earth a fabric huge 
 Rose like an exhalation, with the sound 
 Of dulcet symphonies and voices sweet, 
 Built like a temple, where pilasters round 
 Were set, and Doric pillai*s overlaid 
 With golden architrave ; nor did there want 
 Cornice or frieze, with bossy sculptures graven : 
 The roof was fretted gold. Not Babylon, 
 Nor great Alcairo, such magnificence 
 Equalled in all their glories, to enshrine 
 Belus or Serapis their gods, or seat 
 Their kings, when Egypt with Assyria strove 
 In wealth and luxury. The ascending pile 
 Stood fixed her stately highth : and straight the doors. 
 Opening their brazen folds, discover, wide 
 Witiiin, her ample spaces, o'er the smooth 
 And level pavement ; from the arched roof 
 Pendent by subtle magic, many a row 
 Of starry lamps and blazing cressets, fed 
 With naphtha and asphaltus, yielded light 
 
 As from a sky. The hasty multitude 
 
 Admiring entered ; and the work some praise. 
 
 And some the architect : his hand was known 
 
 In heaven by many a towered structure high, 
 
 Where sceptered angels held their residence, 
 
 And sat as princes ; whom the supreme King 
 
 Exalted to such power, and gave to rule, 
 
 Each in his hierarchy, the orders bright. 
 
 Nor was his name unheard or unadored 
 
 In ancient Greece ; and in Ausonian land 
 
 Men called him Mulciber ; and how he fell 
 
 From heaven, they fabled, thrown by angry Jove 
 
 Sheer o'er the crystal battlements : from morn 
 
 To noon he fell, from noon to dewy eve, 
 
 A summer's day ; and with the setting sun 
 
 Dropt from the zenith like a falling star, 
 
 On Lemnos the -lEgean isle: thus they relate, 
 
 Erring ; for he with this rebellious rout 
 
 Fell long before ; nor aught availed him now 
 
 To have built in heaven high towers ; nor did he 'scape 
 
 By all his engines, but was headlong sent 
 
 With his industrious crew to build in hell. 
 
 Meanwhile, the winged heralds, by command 
 Of sovran power, with awful ceremony 
 And trumpet's sound, throughout the host proclaim 
 A solemn council, forthwith to be held 
 At Pandemonium, the high capital 
 Of Satan and his peers : their summons called 
 From every band and squared regiment 
 By place or choice the worthiest; they anon. 
 With hundreds and with thousands, trooping came, 
 Attended : all access was thronged : the gates 
 And porches wide, but chief the spacious hall, 
 (Though like a covered field, where champions bold 
 Wont ride in armed, and at the soldan's chair 
 Defied the best of panim chivalry 
 To mortal combat, or career with lance,) 
 Thick swarmed, both on the ground and in the air 
 Brushed with the hiss of rustling wings. As bees 
 In spring-time, when the sun with Taurus rides. 
 Pour forth their populous youth about the hive 
 In clusters; they among fresh dews and flowers 
 Fly to and fro, or on the smoothed plank, 
 The suburb of their straw-built citadel, 
 New rubbed with balm, expatiate and confer 
 Their state aflTairs : so thick the aery crowd 
 Swarmed and were straitened ; till, the signal given, 
 Behold a wonder ! They but now who seemed 
 In bigness to surpass earth's giant sons. 
 Now less than smallest dwarfs, in narrow room 
 Throng numberless, like that pygmean race 
 Beyond the Indian mount; or faery elves. 
 Whose midnight revels, by a forest-side 
 Or fountain, some belated peasant sees. 
 Or dreams he sees, while over head the moon 
 Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth 
 Wheels her pale course ; they, on their mirth and dance 
 Intent, with jocund music charm his ear; 
 At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds. 
 Thus incorporeal spirits to smallest forms 
 Reduced their shapes immense, and were at large. 
 
12 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 Though without uumbcr still, amidst the ball 
 Of that infernal court. But far within, 
 And in their own dimensions, like themselves, 
 The great seraphic lords and cherubim 
 
 In close recess and secret conclave sat; 
 A thousand demigods on golden scats, 
 Frequent and full. After short silence then, 
 And summons read, the great consult began. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The consultation begun, Satan debates whether another battle be to be hazarded for the recovery of heaven : some advise it, others 
 dissuade : a third proposal is preferred, mentioned before by Satan, to search the truth of that prophecy or tradition in heaven con- 
 cerning another world, and another kind of creature, equal, or not much inferior, to themselves, about this time to be created. 
 Their doubt, who shall be sent on this difficult search: Satan their chief undertakes alone the voyajje, is honoured and applauded. 
 The council thus ended, the rest betake them several ways, and to several employments, as their inchnations lead them, to entertain 
 the time till Satan return. He passes on his journey to nell-gates : finds them shut, and who sat there to guard them ; by whom at 
 length they are opened, and discover to him the great gulf between hell and heaven ; with what difficulty he passes through, di- 
 rected by Chaos, the Power of that place, to the sight of this new world which he sought. 
 
 High on a throne of royal state, which far 
 
 Outshone the wealth of Ormus and of Ind, 
 
 Or where the gorgeous East with richest hand 
 
 Showers on her kings barbaric pearl and gold, 
 
 Satan exalted sat, by merit raised 
 
 To that bad eminence : and, from despair 
 
 Thus high uplifted beyond hope, aspires 
 
 Beyond thus high, insatiate to pursue 
 
 Vain war with Heaven ; and, by success untaught, 
 
 His proud imaginations thus displayed : 
 
 * Powers and dominions, deities of heaven ; 
 For since no deep within her gulf can hold 
 Immortal vigour, though oppressed and ♦alien, 
 I give not heaven for lost. From this descent 
 Celestial virtues rising, will appear 
 More glorious and more dread than from no fall, 
 And trust themselves to fear no second fate. 
 Me though just right, and the fixed laws of heaven. 
 Did first create your leader; next, free choice. 
 With what besides, in council or in fight. 
 Hath been achieved of merit; yet this loss, 
 Thus far at least recovered, hath much more 
 Established in a safe unenvied throne, 
 Yielded with full consent. The happier state 
 In heaven, which follows dignity, might draw 
 Envy from each inferior; but who here 
 Will envy whom the highest place exposes 
 Foremost to stand against the Thunderer's aim, 
 Your bulwark, and condemns to greatest share 
 Of endless pain ? Where there is then no good 
 For which to strive, no strife can grow up there 
 From faction ; for none sure will claim in hell 
 Precedence, none whose portion is so small 
 Of present pain, that with ambitious mind 
 Will covet more. With this advantage then 
 To union, and firm faith, and firm accord, 
 More than can be in heaven, we now return 
 To claim our just inheritance of old, 
 
 Surer to prosper than prosperity 
 
 Could have assured us; and, by what best way, 
 
 Whether of open war, or covert guile. 
 
 We now debate : who can advise, may speak.' 
 
 He ceased ; and next him Moloch, sceptered king, 
 Stood up, the strongest and the fiercest spirit 
 That fought in heaven, now fiercer by despair : 
 His trust was with the Eternal to be deemed 
 Equal in strength ; and rather than be less , 
 
 Cared not to be at all ; with that care lost 
 Went all his fear: of God, or hell, or worse, 
 He recked not; and these words thereafter spake. 
 
 ' My sentence is for open war: of wiles, 
 More unexpert, I boast not ; them let those 
 Contrive who need, or when they need, not now. 
 For, while they sit contriving, shall the rest, 
 Millions that stand in arms, and longing wait 
 The signal to ascend, sit lingering here 
 Heaven's fugitives, and for their dwelling-place 
 Accept this dark, opprobrious den of shame, 
 The prison of his tyranny who reigns 
 By our delay ? No, let us rather choose. 
 Armed with hell flames and fury, all at once, 
 O'er heaven's high towers to force resistless way, 
 Turning our tortures into horrid arms 
 Against the torturer; when to meet the noise 
 Of his almighty engine he shall hear 
 Infernal thunder; and, for lightning, see 
 Black fire and horror shot with equal rage 
 Among his angels; and his throne itself 
 Mixed with Tartarean sulphur, and strange fire. 
 His own invented torments. But pcrha])s 
 The way seems difficult and steep to scale 
 With upright wing against a higher foe. 
 Let such bethink them, if the sleepy drench 
 Of that forgetful lake benumb not still. 
 That in our proper motion we ascend 
 Up to our native scat: descent and fall 
 
Book II. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 13 
 
 To us is adverse. Who but felt of late, 
 
 When the fierce foe hung' on our broken rear 
 
 Insulting', and pursued us through the deep, 
 
 With what compulsion and laborious flight 
 
 We sunk thus low ? The ascent is easy then ; 
 
 The event is feared ; should we again provoke 
 
 Our stronger, some worse way his wrath may find 
 
 To our destruction ; if there be in hell 
 
 Fear to be worse destroyed : what can be worse 
 
 Than to dwell here, driven out from bliss, condemned 
 
 In this abhorred deep to utter woe ; 
 
 Where pain of unextinguishabl'e fire 
 
 Must exercise us without hope of end, 
 
 The vassals of his anger, when the scourge 
 
 Inexorable, and the torturing hour, 
 
 Calls us to penance ? More destroyed than thus, 
 
 We should be quite abolished, and expire. 
 
 What fear we then ? what doubt we to incense 
 
 His utmost ire? which, to the highth enraged, 
 
 Will either quite consume us, and reduce 
 
 To nothing' this essentiaL; happier far 
 
 Than miserable to have eternal being: 
 
 Or, if our substance b6 indeed divine. 
 
 And cannot cease to be, we are at worst 
 
 On this side nothing ; and by proof we feel 
 
 Our power sufficient to disturb his heaven, 
 
 And with perpetual inroads to alarm, 
 
 Though inaccessible, his fatal throne ; 
 
 Which, if not victory, is yet revenge.' 
 
 He ended frowning, and his look denounced 
 Desperate revenge, and battle dangerous 
 To less than gods. On the other side up rose 
 Belial, in act more graceful and humane: 
 A fairer person lost not heaven ; he seemed 
 For dignity composed, and high exploit : 
 But all was false and hollow; though his tongue 
 Dropt manna, and could make the worse appear 
 The better reason, to perplex and dash 
 Maturest counsels : for his thoughts were low : 
 To vice industrious, but to nobler deeds 
 Timorous and slothful ; yet he pleased the ear, 
 And with persuasive accent thus began : 
 
 ' I should be much for open war, O peers. 
 As not behind in hate ; if what was urged 
 Main reason to persuade immediate war. 
 Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast 
 Ominous conjecture on the whole success ; 
 When he, who most excels in fact of arms. 
 In what he counsels, and in what excels, 
 Mistrustful grounds his courage on despair 
 And utter dissolution, as the scope 
 Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.^ 
 First, what revenge ? The towers of heaven are filled 
 With armed watch, that render all access 
 Impregnable : oft on the bordering deep 
 Encamp their legions; or, with obscure wing, 
 Scout far and wide into the realm of night. 
 Scorning surprise. Or could we break our way 
 By force, and at our heels all hell should rise 
 With blackest insurrection, to confound 
 Heaven's purest light; yet our great enemy, 
 
 All incorruptible, would on his throne 
 
 Sit unpolluted ; and the ethereal mould. 
 
 Incapable of stain, would soon expel 
 
 Her mischief, and purge off" the baser fire, 
 
 Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope 
 
 Is flat despair : we must exasperate 
 
 The almighty Victor to spend all his rage. 
 
 And that must end us ; that must be our cure, 
 
 To be no more. Sad cure ! for who would lose, 
 
 Though full of pain, this intellectual being, 
 
 Those thoughts that wander through eternity, 
 
 To perish rather, swallowed up and lost 
 
 In the wide womb of uncreated night. 
 
 Devoid of sense and motion ? And who knows, 
 
 liCt this be good, whether our angry foe 
 
 Can give it, or will ever ? how he can. 
 
 Is doubtful ; that he never will, is sure. 
 
 Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire, 
 
 Belike through impotence, or unaware, 
 
 To give his enemies their wish, and end 
 
 Them in his anger, whom his anger saves 
 
 To punish endless ? Wherefore cease we then ? 
 
 Say they who counsel war. We are decreed. 
 
 Reserved, and destined, to eternal woe ; 
 
 Whatever doing, what can we suffer more. 
 
 What can we suffer worse ? Is this then worst, 
 
 Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms ? 
 
 What, when we fled amain, pursued, and struck 
 
 With heaven's afflicting thunder, and besought 
 
 The deep to shelter us ? this hell then seemed 
 
 A refuge from those wounds : or when we lay 
 
 Chained on the burning lake.' that sure was worse. 
 
 What if the breath, that kindled those grim fires. 
 
 Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage, 
 
 And plunge us in the flames ? or, from above. 
 
 Should intermitted vengeance arm again 
 
 His red right hand to plague us ? What if all 
 
 Her stores were opened, and this firmament 
 
 Of hell should spout her cataracts of fire, 
 
 Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall 
 
 One day upon our heads ; while we perhaps, 
 
 Designing or exhorting glorious war, 
 
 Caught in a fiery tempest shall be hurled 
 
 Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey 
 
 Of wracking whirlwinds ; or for ever sunk 
 
 Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains ; 
 
 There to converse with everlasting groans, 
 
 Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved. 
 
 Ages of hopeless end ? This would be worse. 
 
 War therefore, open or concealed, alike 
 
 My voice dissuades ; for what can force or guile 
 
 With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye 
 
 Views all things at one view ? He from heaven's 
 
 highth 
 All these our motions vain sees, and derides; 
 Not more almighty to resist our might, 
 Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. 
 Shall we then live thus vile, the race of heaven 
 Thus trampled, thus expell'd to suffer here 
 Chains and these torments? Better these than worse, 
 By my advice ; since fate inevitable 
 
14 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 Subdues us, and omnipotent decree, 
 
 The Victor's will. To suffer, as to do. 
 
 Our streng'th is equal, nor the law unjust 
 
 That so ordains : this was at first resolved, 
 
 If we were wise, against so great a foe 
 
 Contending, and so doubtful what might fall, 
 
 I laugh, when those who at the spear are bold 
 
 And venturous, if that fail them, shrink and fear 
 
 What yet they know must follow, to endure 
 
 Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain. 
 
 The sentence of their conqueror: this is now 
 
 Our doom ; which if we can sustain and bear, 
 
 Our siipreme foe in time may much remit 
 
 His anger; and perhaps, thus far removed. 
 
 Not mind us not offending, satisfied 
 
 With what is punished ; whence these raging fires 
 
 Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames._^ 
 
 Our purer essence then will overcome 
 
 Their noxious vapour; or, inured, not feel; 
 
 Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed 
 
 In temper and in nature, will receive 
 
 Familiar the fierce heat, and void of pain ; 
 
 This horror will grow mild, this darkness light ; 
 
 Besides what hope the never-ending flight 
 
 Of future days may bring, what chance, what change 
 
 Worth waiting ; since our present lot appears 
 
 For happy though but ill, for ill not worst. 
 
 If we procure not to ourselves more woe.' 
 
 Thus Belial, with words clothed in reason's garb, 
 Counselled ignoble ease, and peaceful sloth. 
 Not peace; and after him thus Mammon spake: 
 
 ' Either to disenthrone the King of heaven 
 We war, if war be best, or to regain 
 Our own right lost : him to unthrone we then 
 May hope, when everlasting fate shall yield 
 To fickle chance, and Chaos judge the strife: 
 The former, vain to hope, argues as vain 
 The latter : for what place can be for us 
 Within heaven's bound, unless heaven's Lord supreme 
 We overpower ? Suppose he should relent. 
 And publish grace to all, on promise made 
 Of new subjection ; with what eyes could we 
 Stand in his presence bumble, and receive 
 Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne 
 With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing 
 Forced hallelujahs ; while he lordly sits 
 Our envied sovran, and bis altar breathes 
 Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers. 
 Our servile offerings ? This must be our task 
 In heaven, this our delight ; how wearisome 
 Eternity so spent, in worship paid 
 To whom we hate ! Let us not then pursue 
 By force impossible, by leave obtained 
 Unacceptable, though in heaven, our state 
 Of splendid vassalage ; but rather seek 
 Our own good from ourselves, and from our own 
 Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess. 
 Free, and to none accountable, preferring 
 Hard liberty before the easy yoke 
 Of servile pomp. Our greatness will appear 
 Then most conspicuous, when great things of small. 
 
 Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, 
 
 We can create ; and in what place soe'er 
 
 Thrive under evil, and work case out of pain. 
 
 Through labour and endurance. This deep world 
 
 Of darkness do we dread ? How oft amidst 
 
 Thick clouds and dark doth heaven's all-ruling Sire 
 
 Choose to reside, his glory unobscured. 
 
 And with the majesty of darkness round 
 
 Covers his throne; from whence deep thunders roar 
 
 Mustering their rage, and heaven resembles hell ! 
 
 As he our darkness, cannot we his light 
 
 Imitate when we please ? This desert soil 
 
 Wants not her bidden lustre, gems and gold ; 
 
 Nor want we skill or art, from whence to raise 
 
 Magnificence ; and what can heaven show more ? 
 
 Our torments also may in length of time 
 
 Become our elements; these piercing fires 
 
 As soft as now severe, our temper changed 
 
 Into their temper; which must needs remove 
 
 The sensible of pain. All things invite 
 
 To peaceful counsels, and the settled state 
 
 Of order, how in safety best we may 
 
 Compose our present evils, with regard 
 
 Of what we are, and where ; dismissing quite 
 
 All thoughts of war. Ye have what I ^dvis^^^^^^ 
 
 He scarce had finished, when such murmur miea^'^ 
 The assembly, as when hollow rocks retain 
 The sound of blustering winds, which all night long 
 'Had roused the sea, now with hoarse cadence lull 
 Seafaring men o'er-watched, whose bark by chance 
 Or pinnace anchors in a craggy bay 
 After the tempest : such applause was heard 
 As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, 
 Advising peace : for such another field 
 They dreaded worse than hell : so much the fear 
 Of thunder and the sword of Michael 
 Wrought still within them, and no less desire 
 To found this nether empire, which might rise 
 By policy, and long process of time. 
 In emulation opposite ((> heaven. 
 Which when Beelzebub perceived, than whom, 
 Satan except, none higher sat, with grave 
 Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed 
 A pillar of state ; deep on his front engraven 
 Deliberation sat, and public care ; 
 And princely counsel in his face yet shone, 
 Majestic, though in ruin : sage he stood 
 With Atlantean shoulders fit to bear 
 The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look 
 Drew audience and attention still as night 
 Or summer's noontide air, while thus he spake : 
 
 ' Thrones and imperial powers, offspring of heaven, 
 Ethereal virtues ; or these titles now 
 Must we renounce, and, changing style, be called 
 Princes of hell ? for so the popular vote 
 Inclines here to continue, and build up here 
 A growing empire ; doubtless, while we dream, 
 And know not that the King of heaven hath doomed 
 This place our dungeon ; not our safe retreat 
 Beyond his potent arm, to live exempt 
 From heaven's high jurisdiction, in new league 
 
Book II. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 15 
 
 Banded against bis throne, but to remain 
 
 In strictest bondage, though thus far removed 
 
 Under the inevitable curb, reserved 
 
 His captive multitude : for he, be sure, 
 
 In highth or depth, still first and last will reign 
 
 Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part 
 
 By our revolt ; but over hell extend 
 
 His empire, and with iron scepter rule 
 
 Us here, as with his golden those in heaven.^ 
 
 What sit we then projecting peace and war? 
 
 War hath determined us, and foiled with loss 
 
 Irreparable ; terms of peace yet none 
 
 Vouchsafed or sought ; for what peace will be given 
 
 To us enslaved, but custody severe 
 
 And stripes, and arbitrary punishment 
 
 Inflicted .'' and vi^hat peace can we return, 
 
 But to our power hostility and hate, 
 
 Untamed reluctance, and revenge, though slow. 
 
 Yet ever plotting how the Conqueror least 
 
 May reap his conquest, and may least rejoice 
 
 In doing what we most in suffering feel.'* 
 
 Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need 
 
 With dangerous expedition to invade 
 
 Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault or siege. 
 
 Or ambush from the deep. What if we find 
 
 Some easier enterprise ? There is a place, 
 
 (If ancient and prophetic fame in heaven 
 
 Err not,) another world, the happy seat 
 
 Of some new race, called Man, about this time 
 
 To be created like to us, though less 
 
 In power and excellence, but favoured more 
 
 Of him who rules above ; so was his will 
 
 Pronounced among the gods ; and by an oath. 
 
 That shook heaven's whole circumference, confirmed. 
 
 Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn 
 
 What creatures there inhabit, of what mould 
 
 Or substance, how endued, and what their power. 
 
 And where their weakness, how attempted best, 
 
 By force or subtlety. Though heaven be shut. 
 
 And heaven's high Arbitrator sit secure 
 
 In his own strength, this place may lie exposed, 
 
 The utmost border of his kingdom, left 
 
 To their defence who hold it : here perhaps 
 
 Some advantageous act may be achieved 
 
 By sudden onset; either with hell fire 
 
 To waste his whole creation, or possess 
 
 All as our own, and drive, as we were driven. 
 
 The puny habitants, or, if not drive. 
 
 Seduce them to our party, that their God 
 
 May prove their foe, and with repenting hand 
 
 Abolish his own works. This would surpass 
 
 Common revenge, and interrupt his joy 
 
 In our confusion, and our joy upraise 
 
 In bis disturbance ; when his darling sons, 
 
 Hurled headlong to partake with us, shall curse 
 
 Their frail original, and faded bliss. 
 
 Faded so soon. Advise, if this be worth 
 
 Attempting, or to sit in darkness here 
 
 Hatching vain empires.' Thus Beelzebub 
 
 Pleaded his devilish counsel, first devised 
 
 By Satan, and in part proposed : for whence. 
 
 But from the author of all ill, could spring 
 
 So deep a malice, to confound the race 
 
 Of mankind in one root, and earth with hell 
 
 To mingle and involve, done all to spite 
 
 The great Creator ? But their spite still serves 
 
 His glory to augment. The bold design 
 
 Pleased highly those infernal states, and joy 
 
 Sparkled in all their eyes : with full assent 
 
 They vote : whereat his speech he thus renews: 
 
 * Well have ye judged, well ended long debate, 
 Synod of gods, and like to what ye are, 
 Great things resolved, which, from the lowest deep, 
 Will once more lift us up, in spite of fate. 
 Nearer our ancient seat; perhaps in view 
 Of those bright confines, whence, with neighbouring 
 
 arms 
 And opportune excureion, we may chance 
 Re-enter heaven ; pr else in some mild zone 
 Dwell, not unvisited of heaven's fair light, 
 Secure ; and at the brightening orient beam 
 Purge off this gloom : the soft delicious air. 
 To heal the scar of these corrosive fires. 
 Shall breathe her balm. But first, whom shall we send 
 In search of this new world ? whom shall we find 
 Sufficient ? who shall tempt with wandering feet 
 The dark, unbottomed, infinite abyss. 
 And through the palpable obscure find out 
 His uncouth way, or spread his aery flight 
 Upborne with indefatigable wings. 
 Over the vast abrupt, ere he arrive 
 The happy isle? What strength, what art can then 
 Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe 
 Through the strict senteries and stations thick 
 Of angels watching round ? Here he had need 
 All circumspection, and we now no less 
 Choice in our suflTrage ; for, on whom we send. 
 The weight of all and our last hope relies.' 
 
 This said, he sat ; and expectation held 
 His look suspense, awaiting who appeared 
 To second, or oppose, or undertake 
 The perilous attempt : but all sat mute. 
 Pondering the danger with deep thoughts ; and each 
 In other's countenance read his own dismay. 
 Astonished : none among the choice and prime 
 Of those heaven-warring champions could be found 
 So hardy, as to proffer or accept, 
 Alone, the dreadful voyage ; till at last 
 Sataii, whom now transcendent glory raised 
 Above his fellows, with monarchal pride. 
 Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus spake. 
 
 ' O progeny of heaven, empyreal thrones. 
 With reason hath deep silence and demur 
 Seized us, though undismayed. Long is the way 
 And hard, that out of hell leads up to light; 
 Our prison strong; this huge convex of fire, 
 Outrageous to devour, immures us round 
 Ninefold ; and gates of burning adamant, 
 Barred over us, prohibit all egress. 
 These passed, if any pass, the void profound 
 Of unessential night receives him next 
 Wide-gaping, and with utter loss of being 
 
& 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 Threatens liim, plungced in that abortive gulf. 
 
 If thence he 'scape into whatever world, 
 
 Or unknown rejfion, what remains him less 
 
 Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape ? 
 
 But I should ill become this throne, O peers, 
 
 And this imperial sovrantj, adorned 
 
 With splendour, armed with power, if aught proposed 
 
 And judged of public moment, in the shape 
 
 Of difficulty or danger, could deter 
 
 Me from attempting. Wherefore do I assume 
 
 These royalties, and not refuse to reign, 
 
 Refusing to accept as great a share 
 
 Of hazard as of honour, due alike 
 
 To him who reigns, and so much to him due 
 
 Of hazard more, as he above the rest 
 
 High honoured sits.' Go, therefore, mighty powers, 
 
 Terror of heaven, though fallen; intend at home. 
 
 While here shall be our home, what best may ease 
 
 The present misery, and render hell 
 
 More tolerable ; if there be cure or charm 
 
 To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain 
 
 Of this ill mansion : intermit no watch 
 
 Against a wakeful foe, while I abroad 
 
 Through all the coasts of dark destruction seek 
 
 Deliverance for us all : this enterprise 
 
 None shall partake with me.' Thus saying rose 
 
 The monarch, and prevented all reply ; 
 
 Prudent, lest, from his resolution raised. 
 
 Others among the chief might offer now 
 
 (Certain to be refused) what erst they feared ; 
 
 And, so refused, might in opinion stand 
 
 His rivals ; winning cheap the high repute, 
 
 Which he through hazard huge must earn. But they 
 
 Dreaded not more the adventure, than his voice 
 
 Forbidding; and at once with him they rose: 
 
 Their rising all at once, was as the sound 
 
 Of thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend 
 
 With awful reverence prone ; and as a god 
 
 Extol him equal to the Highest in heaven: 
 
 Nor failed they to express how much they praised, 
 
 That for the general safety he despised 
 
 His own : for neither do the spirits damned 
 
 Lose all their virtue ; lest bad men should boast 
 
 Their specious deeds on earth which glory excites, 
 
 Or close ambition, varnished o'er with zeal. 
 
 Thus they their doubtful consultations dark 
 
 Ended, rejoicing in their matchless chief: 
 
 As when from mountain-tops the dusky clouds 
 
 Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o'erspread 
 
 Heaven's cheerful face, the louring element 
 
 Scowls o'er the darkened landskip snow, or shower; 
 
 If chance the radiant sun with farewell sweet 
 
 Extend his evening beam, the fields revive. 
 
 The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds 
 
 Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings, 
 
 O shame to men ! devil with devil damned 
 
 Firm concord holds, men only disagree 
 
 Of creatures rational, though under hope 
 
 Of heavenly grace ; and, God proclaiming peace, 
 
 Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife. 
 
 Among themselves, and levy cruel m ars. 
 
 Wasting the earth, each other to destroy : 
 As if (which might induce us to accord) 
 Man had not hellish foes enow besides. 
 That, day and night, for his destruction wait. 
 
 The Stygian council thus dissolved; and forth 
 In order came the grand infernal peers : 
 Midst came their mighty paramount, and seemed 
 Alone the antagonist of heaven, nor less 
 Than hell's dread emperor, with pomp supreme. 
 And god-like imitated state: him round 
 A globe of fiery seraphim enclosed 
 With bright imblazonry, and horrent arms. 
 Then of their session ended they bid cry 
 With trumpets' regal sound the great result : 
 Toward the four winds four speedy cherubim 
 Put to their mouths the sounding alchymy. 
 By herald's voice explained ; the hollow abyss 
 Heard far and wide, and all the host of hell 
 With deafening shout returned them loud acclaim. 
 Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat 
 
 raised 
 By false presumptuous hope, the ranged powers 
 Disband, and, wandering, each his several way 
 Pursues, as inclination or sad choice 
 Leads him, perplexed where he may likeliest find 
 Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain 
 The irksome hours, till his great chief return. 
 Part on the plain, or in the air sublime. 
 Upon the wing, or in swift race contend. 
 As at the Olympian games or Pythian fields; 
 Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal 
 With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form. 
 As when, to warn proud cities, war appears 
 Waged in the troubled sky, and armies rush 
 To battle in the clouds, before each van 
 Prick forth the aery knights, and couch their spears 
 Till thickest legions close ; with feats of arms 
 From either end of heaven the welkin burns. 
 Others, with vast Typhtean rage more fell, 
 Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air 
 In whirlwind ; hell scarce holds the wild uproar. 
 As when Alcides, from CEchalia crowned 
 With conquest, felt the envenomed robe, and tore 
 Through pain up by the roots Thessalian pines. 
 And Lichas from the top of (Eta threw 
 Into the Euboic sea. Others more mild. 
 Retreated in a silent valley, sing 
 With notes angelical to many a harp 
 Their own heroic deeds, and hapless fall 
 By doom of battle ; and complain that fate 
 Free virtue should enthrall to force or chance. 
 Their song was partial ; but the harmony 
 (What could it less when spirits immortal sing ?) 
 Suspended hell, and took with ravishment 
 The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet 
 (For eloquence the soul, song charms the sense) 
 Others apart sat on a hill retired. 
 In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high 
 Of providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate, 
 Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute. 
 And found no end, in wandering mazes lost. 
 
Book II. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 17 
 
 Of good and evil raucb they argued then, 
 
 Of happiness and final misery, 
 
 Passion and apathy, and glory and shame. 
 
 Vain wisdom all, and false philosophy : 
 
 Yet, with a pleasing sorcery, could charm 
 
 Pain for a while, or anguish, and excite 
 
 Fallacious hope, or arm the obdured breast 
 
 With stubborn patience, as with triple steel. 
 
 Another part, in squadrons and gross bands, 
 
 On bold adventure to discover wide 
 
 That dismal world, if any clime perhaps 
 
 Might yield them easier habitation, bend 
 
 Four ways their flying march, along the banks 
 
 Of four infernal rivers, that disgorge 
 
 Into the burning lake their baleful streams : 
 
 Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate ; 
 
 Sad Acheron, of sorrow, black and deep ; 
 
 Cocytus, named of lamentation loud 
 
 Heard on the rueful stream ; fierce Phlegethon, 
 
 Whose waves of torrent fire inflame with rage. 
 
 Far off from these, a slow and silent stream, 
 
 Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls 
 
 Her watry labyrinth, whereof who drinks, 
 
 Forthwith his former state and being forgets. 
 
 Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain. 
 
 Beyond this flood a frozen continent 
 
 Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms 
 
 Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land 
 
 Thaws not, but gatliers heap, a.id ruin seems 
 
 Of ancient pile : or else deep snow and ice, 
 
 A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog 
 
 Betwixt Damiata and mount Casius old, 
 
 Where armies whole have sunk : the parching air 
 
 Burns frore, and cold performs the eflfects of fire. 
 
 Thither by harpy-footed Furies haled, 
 
 At certain revolutions, all the damned 
 
 Are brought ; and feel by turns the bitter change 
 
 Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce : 
 
 From beds of raging fire, to starve in ice 
 
 Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine 
 
 Immovable, infixed, and frozen round. 
 
 Periods of time, thence hurried back to fire. 
 
 They ferry over this Lethean sound 
 
 Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment. 
 
 And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach 
 
 The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose 
 
 In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe, 
 
 All in one moment, and so near the brink ; 
 
 But fate withstands, and to oppose the attempt 
 
 Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards 
 
 The ford, and of itself the water flies 
 
 All taste of living wight, as once it fled 
 
 The lip of Tantalus. Thus roving on 
 
 In confused march forlorn, the adventurous bands 
 
 With shuddering horror pale, and eyes aghast. 
 
 Viewed first their lamentable lot, and found 
 
 No rest. Through many a dark and dreary vale 
 
 They passed, and many a region dolorous, 
 
 O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp, 
 
 Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of 
 
 death, 
 
 * c 
 
 A universe of death; which God by curse 
 
 Created evil, for evil only good ; 
 
 Where all life dies, death lives, and nature breeds. 
 
 Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things. 
 
 Abominable, inutterable, and worse 
 
 Than fables yet have feigned, or fear conceived, 
 
 Gorgons, and hydras, and chimeras dire. 
 
 Meanwhile, the adversary of God and man, 
 Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, 
 Puts on swift wings, and towards the gates of hell 
 Explores his solitary flight: sometimes 
 He scours the right hand coast, sometimes the left ; 
 Now shaves with level wing the deep, then soars 
 Up to the fiery concave towering high. 
 As when far off" at sea a fleet descried 
 Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds 
 Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles 
 Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring 
 Their spicy drugs ; they, on the trading flood. 
 Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape, 
 Ply stemming nightly toward the pole : so seemed 
 Far off" the flying fiend. At last appear 
 Hell-bounds, high reaching to the horrid roof, 
 And thrice threefold the gates : three folds were brass, 
 Three iron, three of adamantine rock 
 Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire. 
 Yet unconsumed. Before the gates there sat 
 On either side a formidable shape ; 
 The one seemed woman to the waist, and fair ; 
 But ended foul in many a scaly fold 
 Voluminous and vast; a serpent armed 
 With mortal sting : about her middle round 
 A cry of hell-hounds never-ceasing barked 
 With wide Cerberean mouths full loud, and rung 
 A hideous peal ; yet, when they list, would creep. 
 If aught disturbed their noise, into her womb. 
 And kennel there ; yet there still barked and howled, 
 Within unseen. Far less abhoired than these 
 Vexed Scylla, bathing in the sea that parts 
 Calabria from the hoarse Trinacrian shore : 
 Nor uglier follow the night-hag, when, called 
 In secret, riding through the air she comes. 
 Lured with the smell of infant blood, to dance 
 With Lapland witches, while the labouring moon 
 Eclipses at their charms. The other shape. 
 If shape it might be called that shape had none 
 Distinguishable in member, joint, or limb ; 
 Or substance might be call'd that shadow seemed. 
 For each seemed either : black it stood as night, 
 Fierce as ten Furies, terrible as hell, 
 And shook a dreadful dart; what seemed his head, 
 The likeness of a kingly crown had on. 
 Satan was now at hand, and from his seat 
 The monster moving onward came as fast 
 With horrid strides ; hell trembled as he strode. 
 The undaunted fiend what this might be admired, 
 Admired, not feared; God and his Son except, 
 Created thing nought valued he, nor shunned ; 
 And with disdainful look thus first began : 
 
 ' Whence, and what art thou, execrable shape. 
 That darest, though grim and terrible, advance 
 
^ 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 Thj miscreated front athwart ray way 
 To yonder gates? through them I mean to pass, 
 That be assured, without leave asked of thee: 
 Retire, or taste thy folly, and learn by proof, 
 Hell-bom, not to contend with spirits of heaven.' 
 
 To whom the goblin full of wrath replied : 
 ' Art thou that traitor-angel, art thou he, 
 Who first broke peace in heaven, and faith, till then 
 Unbroken ; and in proud, rebellious arms, 
 Drew after him the third part of heaven's sons 
 Conjured against the Highest; for which both thou 
 And they, outcast from God, are here condemned 
 To waste eternal days in woe and pain ? 
 And reckonest thou thyself with spirits of heaven, 
 Hell-doomed, and breathest defiance here and scorn, 
 Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, 
 Thy king and lord ? Back to thy punishment, 
 False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, 
 Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue 
 Thy lingering, or with one stroke of this dart 
 Strange horror seize thee, and pangs unfelt before.' 
 
 So spake the grisly terror, and in shape, 
 So speaking and so threatening, grew tenfold 
 More dreadful and deform. On the other side, 
 Incensed with indignation, Satan stood 
 Unterrified, and like a comet burned. 
 That fires the length of Ophiuchus huge 
 In the arctic sky, and from his horrid hair 
 Shakes pestilence and war. Each at the head 
 Levelled his deadly aim ; their fatal hands 
 No second stroke intend ; and such a frown 
 Each cast at the other, as when two black clouds, 
 With heaven's artillery fraught, come rattling on 
 Over the Caspian, then stand front to front. 
 Hovering a space, till winds the signal blow 
 To join their dark encounter in mid air : 
 So frown'd the mighty combatants, that hell 
 Grew darker at their frown ; so matched they stood ; 
 For never but once more was either like 
 To meet so great a foe : and now great deeds 
 Had been achieved, whereof all hell had rung, 
 Had not the snaky sorceress, that sat 
 Fast by hell-gate, and kept the fatal key, 
 Risen, and with hideous outcry rushed between. 
 
 * O father, what intends thy hand,' she cried, 
 ' Against thy only son .' What fury, O son, 
 Possesses thee to bend that mortal dart 
 
 Against thy father's bead ? and knowest for whom ; 
 For him who sits above and laughs the while 
 At thee ordained his drudge, to execute 
 Whate'er his wrath, which he calls justice, bids; 
 His wrath, which one day will destroy ye both.' 
 
 She spake, and at her words the hellish pest 
 Forbore ; then these to her Satan returned : 
 
 * So strange thy outcry, and thy words so strang;e 
 Thou interposest, that my sudden hand, 
 Prevented, spares to tell thee yet by deeds 
 
 What it intends; till first I know of thee, 
 
 What thing thou art thus double-formed ; and why. 
 
 In this infernal vale first met, thou callest 
 
 Me father, and that phantasm callest my son : 
 
 I know thee not, nor ever saw till now 
 Sight more detestable than him and thee.' 
 
 To whom thus the portress of hell-gate replied : 
 ' Hast thou forgot me then, and do I seem 
 Now in thine eye so foul ? once deemed so fair 
 In heaven, when at the assembl}', and in sight 
 Of all the seraphim with thee combined 
 In bold conspiracy against heaven's King, 
 All on a sudden miserable pain 
 Surprised thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swum 
 In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast 
 Threw forthj till, on the left side opening wide, 
 Likest to thee in shape and countenance bright. 
 Then shining heavenly fair, a goddess armed. 
 Out of thy head I spning; amazement seized 
 All the host of heaven ; back they recoiled afraid 
 At first, and call'd me Sin, and for a sign 
 Portentous held me ; but, familiar grown, 
 I pleased, and with attractive graces won 
 The most averse, thee chiefl}', who full oft 
 Thyself in me thy perfect image viewing,^ 
 Becamest enamoured, and such joy thou tookest 
 With me in secret, that my womb conceived 
 A growing burden. Meanwhile war arose. 
 And fields were fought in heaven ; wherein remained 
 (For what could else ?) to our Almighty Foe 
 Clear victory ; to our part loss and rout, 
 Through all the empyrean : down they fell 
 Driven headlong from the pitch of heaven, down 
 Into this deep ; and in the general fall 
 I also ; at which time this powerful key 
 Into my hand was given, with charge to keep 
 These gates for ever shut, which none can pass 
 Without my opening. Pensive here I sat 
 Alone ; but long I sat not, till my womb. 
 Pregnant by thee, and now excessive grown. 
 Prodigious motion felt, and rueful throes. 
 At last this odious offspring whom thou seest. 
 Thine own begotten, breaking violent way. 
 Tore through my entrails, that, with fear and pain 
 Distorted, all my nether shape thus grew 
 Transformed : but he my inbred enemy 
 Forth issued, brandishing his fatal dart 
 Made to destroy. I fled, and cried out Death ! 
 Hell trembled at the hideous name, and sighed 
 From all her caves, and back resounded. Death ! 
 I fled ; but he pursued, (though more, it seems, 
 Inflamed with lust than rage,) and, swifter far, 
 Me overtook his mother all dismayed. 
 And in embraces forcible and foul 
 Ingendering with me, of that rape begot 
 These yelling monsters, that with ceaseless cry 
 Surround me, as thou sawest, hourly conceived 
 And hourly born, with sorrow infinite 
 To me ; for, when they list, into the womb 
 That bred them they return and howl, and gnaw 
 My bowels, their repast ; then bursting forth 
 Afresh with conscious terrors vex me round. 
 That rest or intermission none I find. 
 Before mine eyes in opposition sits 
 Grim Death, my son and foe ; who sets them on. 
 
Book II. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 19 
 
 And me his parent would full soon devour 
 For want of other prey, but that he knows 
 His end with mine involved ; and knows that I 
 Should prove a bitter morsel, and his bane, 
 Whenever that shall be ; so fate pronounced. 
 But ihou, O father, I forewarn thee, shun 
 His deadly arrow; neither vainly hope 
 To be invulnerable in those bright arms, 
 Though tempered heavenly; for that mortal dint, 
 Save he who reigns above, none can resist.' 
 
 She finished ; and the subtle fiend his lore 
 Soon learned, now milder, and thus answeied smooth : 
 
 ' Dear daughter, since thou claimcst me for thy sire, 
 And my fair son here showest me, the dear pledge 
 Of dalliance had with thee in heaven, and joys 
 Then sweet, now sad to mention, through dire change 
 Befallen us, unforeseen, unthought of; know, 
 I come no enemy, but to set free 
 From out this dark and dismal house of pain 
 Both him and thee, and all the heavenly host 
 Of spirits, that, in our just pretences armed. 
 Fell with us from on high : from them I go 
 This uncouth errand sole ; and one for all 
 Myself expose, with lonely steps to tread 
 The unfounded deep, and through the void immense 
 To search with wandering quest a place foretold 
 Should be, and, by concurring signs, ere now 
 Created vast and round, a place of bliss 
 In the purlieus of heaven, and therein placed 
 A race of upstart creatures, to supply 
 Perhaps our vacant room ; though more removed, 
 Lest heaven, surcharged with potent multitude, 
 Might hap to move new broils. Be this or aught 
 Than this more secret now designed, I haste 
 To know ; and, this once known, shall soon return, 
 And bring ye to the place where thou and Death 
 Shall dwell at ease, and up and down unseen 
 Wing silently the buxom air, imbalmed 
 With odours; there ye shall be fed and filled 
 Immeasurably ; all things shall be your prey.' 
 
 He ceased, for both seemed highly pleased, and 
 Death 
 Grinned horrible a ghastly smile, to hear 
 His famine should be filled; and blessed his maw 
 Destined to that good hour: no less rejoiced 
 His mother bad, and thus bespeak her sire : 
 
 ' The key of this infernal pit by due. 
 And by command of heaven's all-powerful King, 
 I keep, by him forbidden to unlock 
 These adamantine gates ; against all force 
 Death ready stands to interpose his dart, 
 Fearless to be o'ermatched by living might. 
 But what owe I to his commands above 
 Who hates me, and hath hither thrust me down 
 Into this gloom of Tartarus profound, 
 To sit in hateful office here confined. 
 Inhabitant of heaven, and heavenly-born, 
 Here, in perpetual agony and pain. 
 With terrors and with clamours compassed round 
 Of mine own brood that on my bowels feed ? 
 Thou art my father, thou my author, thou 
 c 2 
 
 My being gavest me ; whom should I obey 
 But thee ? whom follow ? thou wilt bring me soon 
 To that new world of light and bliss, among 
 The gods who live at ease, where I shall reign ' 
 At thy right hand voluptuous, as beseems 
 Thy daughter and thy darling, without end.' 
 
 Thus saying, from her side the fatal key. 
 Sad instrument of all our woe, she took ; 
 And, towards the gate rolling her bestial train. 
 Forthwith the huge portcullis high up-drew, 
 Which, but herself, not all the Stygian powers 
 Could once have moved ; then in the key-hole turns 
 The intricate wards, and every bolt and bar 
 Of massy iron or solid rock with ease 
 Unfastens. On a sudden open fly 
 With impetuous recoil and jarring sound 
 The infernal doors, and on their hinges grate 
 Harsh thunder, that the lowest bottom shook 
 Of Erebus. She opened, but to shut 
 Excelled her power : the gates wide open stood. 
 That with extended wing« a bannered host, 
 Under spread ensigns marching, might pass throuo-h 
 With horse and chariots ranked in loose array : 
 So wide they stood, and like a furnace-mouth 
 Cast forth redounding smoke and ruddy flame. 
 Before their eyes in sudden view appear 
 The secrets of the hoary deep ; a dark 
 Illimitable ocean, without bound, 
 Without dimension, where length, breadth, and 
 
 highth, 
 And time, and place, are lost ; where eldest Night 
 And Chaos, ancestors of Nature, hold 
 Eternal anarchy, amidst the noise 
 Of endless wars, and by confusion stand. 
 For Hot, Cold, Moist, and Dry, four champions fierce, 
 Strive here for mastery, and to battle bring 
 Their embryon atoms ; they around the flag 
 Of each his faction, in their several clans. 
 Light-armed or heavy, sharp, smooth, swift, or slow. 
 Swarm populous, unnumbered as the sands 
 Of Barca or Cyrene's torrid soil. 
 Levied to side with warring winds, and poise 
 Their lighter wings. To whom these most adhere. 
 He rules a moment : Chaos umpire sits. 
 And by decision more embroils the fray 
 By which he reigns : next him high arbiter 
 Chance governs all. Into this wild abyss, 
 The womb of Nature, and perhaps her grave, 
 Of neither sea, nor shore, nor air, nor fire, 
 But all these in their pregnant causes mixed 
 Confusedly, and which thus must ever fight, 
 Unless the Almighty Maker them ordain 
 His dark materials to create more worlds; 
 Into this wild abyss the wary fiend 
 Stood on the brink of hell, and looked a while. 
 Pondering his voyage ; for no narrow frith 
 He had to cross. Nor was his ear less pealed 
 With noises loud and ruinous, (to compare 
 Great things with small,) than when Bellona storms, 
 With all her battering engines bent to rase 
 Some capital city ; or less than if this frame 
 
20 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Boor II. 
 
 Of heaven were falling, and these elements 
 
 In mutiny had from her axle torn 
 
 The stedfast earth. At last his sail-broad vans 
 
 He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoke 
 
 Uplifted spurns the ground ; thence many a league, 
 
 As in a cloudy chair, ascending rides 
 
 Audacious ; but, that seat soon failing, meets 
 
 A vast vacuity : all unawares 
 
 Fluttering his pennons vain, plumb down be drops 
 
 Ten thousand fathom deep ; and to this hour 
 
 Down had been falling, had not by ill chance 
 
 The strong rebuff of some tumultuous cloud. 
 
 Instinct with fire and nitre, hurried him 
 
 As many miles aloft : that fury staid. 
 
 Quenched in a boggy syrtis, neither sea. 
 
 Nor good dry land : nigh foundered on he fares, 
 
 Treading the crude consistence, half on foot. 
 
 Half flying ; behoves him now both oar and sail. 
 
 As when a gryphon through the wilderness 
 
 With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale. 
 
 Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth 
 
 Had from his wakeful custody purloined 
 
 The guarded gold : so eagerly the fiend 
 
 O'er bog, or steep, through straight, rough, dense, or 
 
 rare, 
 With head, hands, wings, or feet, pursues bis way. 
 And swims, or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies : 
 At length, a universal hubbub wild 
 Of stunning sounds, and voices all confused. 
 Borne through the hollow dark, assaults his ear 
 With loudest vehemence : thither he plies. 
 Undaunted, to meet there whatever power 
 Or spirit of the nethermost abyss 
 Might in that noise reside, of whom to ask 
 Which way the nearest coast of darkness lies 
 Bordering on light ; when straight behold the throne 
 Of Chaos, and his dark pavilion spread 
 Wide on tlie wasteful deep ; with him enthroned 
 Sat sable-vested Night, eldest of things, 
 The consort of his reign ; and by them stood 
 Orcus and Ades, and the dreaded name 
 Of Demogorgon ! Rumour next and Chance, 
 And Tumult and Confusion all embroiled. 
 And Discord with a thousand various mouths. 
 To whom Satan turning boldly, thus: ' Ye powers 
 And spirits of this nethermost abyss. 
 Chaos and ancient Night, I come no spy. 
 With purpose to explore or to disturb 
 The secrets of your realm ; but, by constraint 
 Wandering this darksome desert, as my way 
 Lies through your spacious empire up to light, 
 Alone, and without guide, half lost, T seek 
 What readiest path leads where your gloomy bounds 
 Confine with heaven ; or if some other place. 
 From your dominion won, the ethereal King 
 Possesses lately, thither to arrive 
 I travel this profound ; direct my course ; 
 Directed, no mean recompense it brings 
 To your behoof, if I that region lost. 
 All usurpation thence expelled, reduce 
 To her original darkness, and your sway, 
 
 (Which is my present journey,) and once more 
 Erect the standard there of ancient Night : 
 Yours be the advantage all, mine the revenge.' 
 
 Thus Satan ; and him thus the Anarch old. 
 With faltering speech and visage incomposed. 
 Answered : ' I know thee, stranger, who thou art, 
 That mighty leading angel, who of late 
 Made head against heaven's King, though overthrown. 
 I saw and heard ; for such a numerous host 
 Fled not in silence through the frighted deep. 
 With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout. 
 Confusion worse confounded ; and heaven-gate 
 Poured out by millions her victorious bands 
 Pursuing. I upon my frontiers here 
 Keep residence ; if all I can will serve 
 That little which is left so to defend. 
 Encroached on still through your intestine broils 
 Weakening the scepter of old Night: first hell. 
 Your dungeon, stretching far and wide beneath ; 
 Now lately heaven and earth, another world. 
 Hung o'er my realm, linked in a golden chain 
 To that side heaven from whence your legions fell : 
 If that way be your walk, you have not far ; 
 So much the nearer danger ; go, and speed ; 
 Havoc, and spoil, and ruin, are my gain.' 
 
 He ceased ; and Satan staid not to reply. 
 But, glad that now his sea should find a shore. 
 With fresh alacrity, and force renewed. 
 Springs upward, like a pyramid of fire. 
 Into the wild expanse, and, through the shock 
 Of fighting elements, on all sides round 
 Environed, wins his way ; harder beset 
 And more endangered, than when Argo passed 
 Through Bosporus, betwixt the justling rocks : 
 Or when Ulysses on the larboard shunned 
 Charybdis, and by the other whirlpool steered. 
 So he with difficulty and labour hard 
 Moved on, with difficulty and labour he ; 
 But, he once past, soon after, when man fell. 
 Strange alteration ! Sin and Death amain 
 Following his track, such was the will of Heaven, 
 Paved after him a broad and beaten way 
 Over the dark abyss, whose boiling gulf 
 Tamely endured a bridge of wondrous length. 
 From hell ccmtinued reaching the utmost orb 
 Of this frail world ; by which the spirits perverse 
 With easy intercourse pass to and fro 
 To tempt or punish mortals, except whom 
 God and good angels guard by special grace. 
 But now at last the sacred influence 
 Of light appears, and from the walls of heaven 
 Shoots far into the bosom of dim Night, 
 A glimmering dawn : here Nature first begins 
 Her farthest verge, and Chaos to retire. 
 As from her outmost works a broken foe. 
 With tumult less, and with less hostile din. 
 That Satan with less toil, and now with ease 
 Wafts on the calmer wave by dubious light. 
 And, like a weather-beaten vessel, holds 
 Gladly the port, though shrouds and tackle torn ; 
 Or iu the emptier waste, resembling air. 
 
Book III. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 21 
 
 Weig-lis his spread wing^s, at leisure to 1)eliold 
 Far off the empyreal heaven, extended wide 
 In circuit, undetermined square or round, 
 With opal towers and battlements adorned 
 Of living sapphire, once his native seat ; 
 
 And fast by, hanging in a golden chain. 
 This pendent world, in bigness as a star 
 Of smallest magnitude, close by the moon. 
 Thither, full fraught witli mischievous revenge, 
 Accursed, and in a cursed hour, he hies. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 God, sitting on his tlirone, sees Satan flyinjt towards this world, then newly created ; shows liim to the Son, who sat at his right hand ; 
 foretells the success of Satan in perverting mankind, clears his own justice and wisdom from all imputation, having created man 
 free and able enough to have withstood his tempter ; yet declares his purpose of grace towards him, in regard he fell not of his 
 own malice, as did Satan, but bv him seduced. The Son of God renders praises to his Father for the manifestation of his gracious 
 purpose towards man: but God again declares, that grace cannot be extended towards man without the satisfaction of divine 
 justice : man hath offended the majesty of (Jod by aspiring to godhead, and therefore, with all his progeny, devoted to death, must 
 die, unless some one can be found sufiRcient to answer for his offence, and undergo his puni.shment. The Son of God freely offers 
 himself a ransom for man : the Father accepts him, ordains his incarnation, pronounces his exaltation above all names in heaven 
 and earth ; commands all the ansrels to adore him. They obey, and hymning to their harps in full quire, celebrate the Father and 
 the Son. Meanwhile Satan alights upon the bare convex of "this world's outermost orb ; where wandering he first finds a place, 
 since called the Limbo of Vanity : wtiat persons and things fly up thither : thence comes to the gate of heaven, described ascend- 
 ing by stairs, and the waters above the firmament that flow about it: his passage thence to the orb of the sun ; he finds there 
 Uriel, the regent of that orb, but first changes himself into tlie shape of a meaner angel ; and, pretending a zealous desire to be- 
 hold the new creation, and man whom God Imd placed here, inquires of him the place of his habitation, and is directed : alights 
 first on mount Niphates. 
 
 Hail, holy Light! offsprii^ of heaven tirst-bom, 
 
 Or of the Eternal coeternal beam. 
 
 May I express thee unblamed ? since God is light, 
 
 And never but in unapproached light 
 
 Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee. 
 
 Bright effluence of bright essence increate. 
 
 Or hearest thou rather, pure ethereal stream. 
 
 Whose fountain who shall tell ? Before the sun. 
 
 Before the heavens thou wert, and at the voice 
 
 Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest 
 
 The rising world of waters dark and deep. 
 
 Won from the void and formless infinite. 
 
 Thee I revisit now with bolder wing. 
 
 Escaped the Stygian pool, though long detained 
 
 In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight 
 
 Through utter and through middle darkness borne. 
 
 With other notes than to the Orphean lyre, 
 
 I sung of Chaos and eternal Night; 
 
 Taught by the heavenly muse to venture down 
 
 The dark descent, and up to re-ascend. 
 
 Though hard and rare : thee I revisit safe. 
 
 And feel thy sovran vital lamp ; but thou 
 
 Revisitest not these eyes, that roll in vain 
 
 To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn; 
 
 So thick a drop serene hath quenched their orbs. 
 
 Or dim suffusion veiled. Yet not the more 
 
 Cease I to wander where the muses haunt 
 
 Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill, 
 
 Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief 
 
 Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath. 
 
 That wash thy hallowed feet, and warbling flow, 
 
 Nightly I visit : nor sometimes forget 
 
 Those other two equalled with me in fate. 
 
 So were I equalled with them in renown, 
 
 Blind Thamyris, and blind Maeonides, 
 
 And Tiresias, and Phineas, prophets old : 
 
 Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move 
 
 Harmonious numbers ; as the wakeful bird 
 
 Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid. 
 
 Tunes her nocturnal note. Thus with the year 
 
 Seasons return ; but not to me returns 
 
 Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn, 
 
 Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer's rose. 
 
 Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine ; 
 
 But cloud in.stead, and ever-during dark 
 
 Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men 
 
 Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair, 
 
 Presented with a universal blank 
 
 Of nature's works to me expunged and rased. 
 
 And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out. 
 
 So much the rather thou, celestial light. 
 
 Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers 
 
 Irradiate : there plant eyes, all mist from thence 
 
 Purge and disperse, tiiat I may see and tell 
 
 Of things invisible to mortal sight. 
 
 Now had the Almighty Father from above. 
 From the pure empyrean where he sits 
 High throned above all highth, bent down his eye 
 His own works, and their works, at once to view . 
 About him all the sanctities of heaven 
 Stood thick as stars, and from his sight received 
 Beatitude past utterance ; on his right 
 The radiant image of his glory sat. 
 His only Son ; on earth he first beheld 
 Our two first parents, yet the only two 
 Of mankind, in the happy garden placed, 
 Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love. 
 Uninterrupted joy, unrivalled love, 
 
22 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 In blissful solitude ; be then surveyed 
 
 Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there 
 
 Coasting the wall of heaven on this side night 
 
 In the dun air sublime, and ready now 
 
 To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feet. 
 
 On the bare outside of this world, that seemed 
 
 Firm land imbosomed without firmament. 
 
 Uncertain which, in ocean or in air. 
 
 Him God beholding from his prospect high. 
 
 Wherein past, present, future, he beholds, 
 
 Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake : 
 
 ' Only begotten Son, seest thou what rage 
 Transports our adversary ? whom no bounds 
 Prescribed, no bars of hell, nor all the chains 
 Heaped on him there, nor yet the main abyss 
 Wide interrupt, can hold ; so bent he seems 
 On desperate revenge, that shall redound 
 Upon his own rebellious head. And now. 
 Through all restraint broke loose, he wings his way 
 Not far off heaven, in the precincts of light. 
 Directly towards the new-created world 
 And man there placed, with purpose to essay 
 If him by force he can destroy, or worse. 
 By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert: 
 For man will hearken to his glozing lies. 
 And easily transgress the sole command. 
 Sole pledge of his obedience : so will fall 
 He and his faithless progeny. Whose fault? 
 Whose but his own ? Ingrate, he had of me 
 All he could have ; I made him just and right, 
 Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall. 
 Such I created all the ethereal powers 
 And spirits, both them who stood, and them who failed j 
 Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell. 
 Not free, what proof could they have given sincere 
 Of true allegiance, constant faith or love. 
 Where only what they needs must do appeared. 
 Not what they would ? what praise could they receive, 
 What pleasure I from such obedience paid. 
 When will and reason (reason also is choice) 
 Useless and vain, of freedom both despoiled, 
 Made passive both, had served necessity. 
 Not me ? They therefore, as to right belonged. 
 So were created, nor can justly accuse 
 Their Maker, or their making, or their fate, 
 As if predestination over-ruled 
 Their will, disposed by absolute decree 
 Or high foreknowledge ; they themselves decreed 
 Their own revolt, not I ; if I foreknew, 
 Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault. 
 Which had no less proved certain unforeknown. 
 So without least impulse or shadow of fate. 
 Or aught by me immutably foreseen, 
 They trespass, authors to themselves iu all 
 Both what they judge, and what they choose; for so 
 I formed them free: and free they must remain, 
 Till they enthral themselves ; I else must change 
 Their nature, and revoke the high decree 
 Unchangeable, eternal, which ordained 
 Their freedom, they themselves ordained their fall. 
 The first sort by their own suggestion fell. 
 
 Self-tempted, self-depraved : man falls, deceived 
 By the other first: man therefore shall find grace. 
 The other none : in mercy and justice both. 
 Through heaven and earth, so shall my glory excel ; 
 But mercy, first and last, shall brightest shine.' 
 
 Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance filled 
 All heaven, and in the blessed spirits elect 
 Sense of new joy ineffable diffused. 
 Beyond compare the Son of God was seen 
 Most glorious : in him all his Father shone 
 Substantially expressed ; and in his face 
 Divine compassion visibly appeared, 
 Love without end, and without measure grace, 
 Which uttering, thus he to his Father spake: 
 
 ' O Father, gracious was that word which closed 
 Thy sovran sentence, that man should find grace ; 
 For which both heaven and earth shall high extol 
 Thy praises, with the innumerable sound 
 Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne 
 Encompassed shall resound thee ever blest. 
 For should man finally be lost, should man, 
 Thy creature late so loved, thy youngest son. 
 Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though joined 
 With his own folly ? That be from thee far. 
 That far be from thee, Father, who art judge 
 Of all things made, and judgest only right. 
 Or shall the adversary thus obtain 
 His end, and frustrate thine ? shall he fulfil 
 His malice, and thy goodness bring to naught, 
 Or proud return, though to his heavier doom, 
 Yet with revenge accomplished, and to hell 
 Draw after him the whole race of mankind, 
 By him corrupted? or wilt thou thyself 
 Abolish thy creation, and unmake 
 For him, what for thy glory thou hast made ? 
 So should thy goodness and thy greatness both 
 Be questioned and blasphemed without defence.' 
 
 To whom the great Creator thus replied : 
 ' O Son, iu whom my soul hath chief delight. 
 Son of my bosom, Son who art alone 
 My w^ord, my wisdom, and effectual might, 
 All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all 
 As my eternal purpose hath decreed : 
 Man shall not quite be lost, but saved who will; 
 Yet not of will in him, but grace in me 
 Freely vouchsafed ; once inore I will renew 
 His lapsed powers, though forfeit, and enthralled 
 By sin to foul exorbitant desires ; 
 Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand 
 On even ground against his mortal foe ; 
 By me upheld, that he may know how frail 
 His fallen condition is, and to me owe 
 All his deliverance, and to none but me. 
 Some I have chosen of peculiar grace, 
 Elect above the rest ; so is my will : 
 The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warned 
 Their sinful state, and to appease betimes 
 The incensed Deity, while offered grace 
 Invites ; for I will clear their senses dark. 
 What may suffice, and soften stony hearts 
 To pray, repent, and bring obedience due. 
 
Book III. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 23 
 
 To prayer, repentance, and obedience due, 
 
 Though but endeavoured with sincere intent, 
 
 Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut. 
 
 And I will place within them as a guide. 
 
 My umpire conscience ; whom if tfaey will hear, 
 
 Light after light, well used, they shall attain, 
 
 And to the end persisting, safe arrive. 
 
 This my long sufferance, and my day of grace, 
 
 They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste; 
 
 But hard be hardened, blind be blinded more, 
 
 That they may stumble on, and deeper fall ; 
 
 And none but such from mercy I exclude. 
 
 But yet all is not done ; man disobeying, 
 
 Disloyal, breaks his fealty, and sins 
 
 Against the high supremacy of Heaven, 
 
 Affecting godhead, and, so losing all, 
 
 To expiate his treason bath nought left. 
 
 But to destruction sacred and devote. 
 
 He, with his whole posterity, must die. 
 
 Die he or justice must ; unless for hira 
 
 Some other able, and as willing, pay 
 
 The rigid satisfaction, death for death. 
 
 Say, heavenly Powers, where shall we find such love? 
 
 Wliich of ye will be mortal, to redeem 
 
 Man's mortal crime, and just the unjust to save ? 
 
 Dwells in all heaven charity so dear ?' 
 
 He asked, but all the heavenly quire stood mute. 
 And silence was in heaven : on man's behalf 
 Patron or intercessor none appeared, 
 Much less that dui-st upon his own head draw 
 The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set. 
 And now without redemption all mankind 
 Must have been lost, adjudged to death and hell 
 By doom severe, had not the Son of God, 
 In whom the fulness dwells of love divine, 
 His dearest mediation thus renewed : 
 
 ' Father, thy word is past, man shall find grace ; 
 And shall grace not find means, that finds her way. 
 The speediest of thy winged messengers. 
 To visit all thy creatures, and to all 
 Comes unprevented, unimplored, unsought? 
 Happy for man, so coming^ he her aid 
 Can never seek, once dead in sins, and lost ; 
 Atonement for himself, or offering meet, 
 Indebted and undone, hath none to bring : 
 Behold me then ; me for him, life for life 
 I offer ; on me let thine anger fall ; 
 Account me man ; I for his sake will leave 
 Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee 
 Freely put off, and for him lastly die 
 Well pleased ; on me let Death wreak all his rage : 
 Under his gloomy power I shall not long 
 Lie vanquished; thou hast given me to possess 
 Life in myself for ever; by thee I live. 
 Though now to death I yield, and am his due 
 All that of me can die : yet, that debt paid. 
 Thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave 
 His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul 
 For ever with corruption there to dwell : 
 But I shall rise victorious, and subdue 
 My vanquislier, spoiled of his vaunted spoil; 
 
 Death his death's wound shall then receive, and stoop 
 Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarmed. 
 I through the ample air in triumph high 
 Shall lead hell captive maugre hell, and show 
 The powers of darkness bound. Thou, at the sight 
 Pleased, out of heaven shalt look down and smile. 
 While, by thee raised, I ruin all my foes, 
 Death last, and with his carcase glut the grave : 
 Then, with the multitude of my redeemed. 
 Shall enter heaven long absent, and return, 
 Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud 
 Of anger shall remain, but peace assured 
 And reconcilement ; wrath shall be no more 
 Thenceforth ; but in thy presence joy entire.' 
 
 His words here ended, but his meek aspect 
 Silent yet spake, and breathed immortal love 
 To mortal men, above which only shone 
 Filial obedience : as a sacrifice 
 Glad to be offered, he attends the will 
 Of his great Father. Admiration seized 
 All heaven, what this might mean, and whither tend, 
 Wondering ; but soon the Almighty thus replied : 
 
 ' O thou in heaven and earth the only peace 
 Found out for mankind under wrath ! thou 
 My sole complacence ! well thou knowest how dear 
 To me are all my works, nor man the least. 
 Though last created ; that for him I spare 
 Thee from my bosom and right hand, to save. 
 By losing thee a while, the whole race lost. 
 Thou, therefore, whom thou only canst redeem, 
 Their nature also to thy nature join ; 
 And be thyself man among men on earth. 
 Made flesh, when time shall be, of virgin seed. 
 By wondrous birth : be thou in Adam's room 
 The head of all mankind, though Adam's son. 
 As in him perish all men, so in thee. 
 As from a second root, shall be restored 
 As many as are restored, without thee none. 
 His crime makes guilty all his sons ; thy merit, 
 Imputed, shall absolve them who renounce 
 Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds, 
 And live in thee transplanted, and from thee 
 Receive new life. So man, as is most just. 
 Shall satisfy for man, be judged and die. 
 And dying rise, and rising with him raise 
 His brethren, ransomed with his own dear life. 
 So heavenly love shall outdo hellish hate, 
 Giving to death, and dying to redeem. 
 So dearly to redeem, what hellish hate 
 So easily destroyed, and still destroys 
 In those who, when they may, accept not grace. 
 Nor shalt thou, by Hescending to assume 
 Man's nature, lessen or degrade thine own. 
 Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss 
 Equal to God, and equally enjoying 
 God-like fruition, quitted all, to save 
 A world from utter loss, and hast been found 
 By merit more than birthright Son of God, 
 Found worthiest to be so by being good, 
 Far more than great or high ; because in thee 
 Love hath abounded more than glory abounds, 
 
24 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt 
 With thee thj mauhood also to this throne ; 
 Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here sbalt reign 
 Both God and man, Son both of God and man, 
 Anointed universal King ; all power 
 I give thee ; reign for ever, and assume 
 Thy merits; under thee, as head supreme. 
 Thrones, princedoms, powers, dominions, I reduce : 
 All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide 
 In heaven, or earth, or under earth in hell. 
 When thou, attended gloriously from heaven, 
 Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send 
 The summoning archangels to proclaim 
 Thy dread tribunal : forthwith from all winds 
 The living, and forthwith the cited dead 
 Of all past ages, to the general doom 
 Shall hasten ; such a peal shall rouse their sleep. 
 Then, all thy saints assembled, thou shall judge 
 Bad men and angels ; they arraigned, shall sink 
 Beneath thy sentence : hell, her numbers full. 
 Thenceforth shall be for ever shut. Meanwhile 
 The world shall bum, and from her ashes spring 
 New heaven and earth, wherein the just shall dwell, 
 And, after all their tribulations long, 
 See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds. 
 With joy and love triumphing, and fair truth. 
 Then thou thy regal scepter shalt lay by. 
 For regal scepter then no more shall need, 
 God shall be all in all. But, all ye gods. 
 Adore him, who to compass all this dies; 
 Adore the Son, and honour him as me.' 
 
 No sooner had the Almighty cea.sed, but all 
 The multitude of angels, with a shout 
 Loud as from numbers without number, sweet 
 As from blest voices, uttering joy, heaven rung 
 With jubilee, and loud hosannas filled 
 The eternal regions : lowly reverent 
 Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground 
 With solemn adoration down they cast 
 Their crowns inwove w ith amarant and gold ; 
 Immortal amarant, a flower which once 
 In Paradise, fast by the tree of life, 
 Began to bloom ; but soon for man's offence 
 To heaven removed where first it grew, there grows. 
 And flowers aloft shading the fount of life. 
 And where the river of bliss through midst of heaven 
 Rolls o'er Elysian flowers her amber stream ; 
 With these that never fade the spirits elect 
 Bind their resplendent locks inwreathed with beams ; 
 Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright 
 Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone, 
 Impurpled with celestial roses smned. 
 Then, crowned again, their golden harps they took, 
 Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side 
 Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet 
 Of charming symphony they introduce 
 Their sacred song, and waken raptures high : 
 No voice exempt, no voice but well could join 
 Melodious part, such concord is in heaven. 
 
 ' Thee, Father, first they sung Omnipotent, 
 Immutable, Immortal, Infinite, 
 
 Eternal King ; thee, Author of all being, 
 Fountain of light, thyself invisible 
 Amidst the glorious brightness where thou sittest 
 Throned inaccessible, but when thou shadest 
 The full blaze of thy beams, and through a cloud 
 Drawn round about thee like a radiant shrine, 
 Dark with excessive bright thy skirts appear, 
 Yet dazzle heaven, that brightest seraphim 
 Approach not, but with both wings veil their eyes. 
 Thee next they sang of all creation first, 
 Begotten Son, Divine Similitude, 
 In whose conspicuous countenance, without cloud 
 Made visible, the Almighty Father shines, 
 Whom else no creature can behold ; on thee 
 Impressed the effulgence of his glory abides. 
 Transfused on thee his ample Spirit rests. 
 He heaven of heavens and all the powers therein 
 By thee created ; and by thee threw down 
 The aspiring dominations : thou that day 
 Thy Father's dreadful thunder didst not spare, 
 Nor stop tliy flaming chariot wheels, that shook 
 Heaven's everlasting frame, while o'er the necks 
 Thou drovest of warring angels disarrayed. 
 Back from pursuit thy powers with loud acclaim 
 Thee only extolled, Son of thy Father's might, 
 To execute fierce vengeance on his foes ; 
 Not so on man : him, through their malice fallen. 
 Father of mercy and grace, thou didst not doom 
 So strictly, but much more to pity incline : 
 No sooner did thy dear and only Son 
 Perceive thee purposed not to doom frail man 
 So strictly, but much more to pity inclined ; 
 He, to appease thy wrath and end the strife 
 Of mercy and justice in thy face discerned. 
 Regardless of the bliss wherein he sat 
 Second to thee, offered himself to die 
 For man's offence. O unexampled love. 
 Love no where to be found less than divine ! 
 Hail, Son of God, Saviour of men ! Thy name 
 Shall be the copious matter of my song 
 Henceforth, and never shall my harp thy praise 
 Forget, nor from thy Father's praise disjoin.' 
 
 Thus they in heaven, above the starry sphere, 
 Their happy hours in joy and hymning spent. 
 Meanwhile upon the firm opacous globe 
 Of this round world, whose first convex divides 
 The luminous inferior orbs, enclosed 
 From Chaos, and the inroad of darkness old, 
 Satan alighted walks : a globe far off 
 It seemed, now seems a boundless continent 
 Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night 
 Starless exposed, and ever-threatening storms 
 Of Chaos blustering round, inclement sky ; 
 Save on that side which from the wall of heaven. 
 Though distant far, some small reflection gains 
 Of glimmering air, less vexed with tempest loud : 
 Here walked the fiend at large in spacious field. 
 As when a vulture on Imaiis bred. 
 Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, 
 Dislodging from a region scarce of prey, 
 To gorge the flesh of lambs or yeanling kids. 
 
Book III. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 25 
 
 On hills where flocks are fed, flies towards the springs 
 
 Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams : 
 
 But in his way lights on the barren plains 
 
 Of Sericana, where Chineses drive 
 
 With sails and wind their cany waggons light: 
 
 So, on this windy sea of land, the fiend 
 
 Walked up and down alone, bent on his prey; 
 
 Alone, for other creature in this place, 
 
 Living or lifeless, to be found was none, 
 
 None yet, but store hereafter from the earth 
 
 Up hither, like aereal vapours, flew 
 
 Of all things transitory and vain, when sin 
 
 With vanity had filled the works of men ; 
 
 Both all things vain, and all who in vain things 
 
 Built their fond hopes of glory or lasting fame, 
 
 Or happiness in this or the other life ; 
 
 All who have their reward on earth, the fruits 
 
 Of painful superstition and blind zeal. 
 
 Nought seeking but the praise of men, here find 
 
 Fit retribution, empty as their deeds ; 
 
 All the unaccomplished works of Nature's hand, 
 
 Abortive, monstrous, or unkindly mixed, 
 
 Dissolved on earth, fleet hither, and in vain, 
 
 Till final dissolution, wander here: 
 
 Not in the neighbouring moon, as some have dreamed; 
 
 Those argent fields more likely habitants, 
 
 Translated saints, or middle spirits hold 
 
 Betwixt the angelical and human kind. 
 
 Hither of ill-joined sons and daughters bom 
 
 First from the ancient world those giants came 
 
 With many a vain exploit, though then renowned : 
 
 The builders next of Babel on the plain 
 
 Of Sennaar, and still with vain design 
 
 New Babels, had they wherewithal, would build : 
 
 Others came single ; he, who to be deemed 
 
 A god, leaped fondly into iEtna flames, 
 
 Empedocles ; and he, who, to enjoy 
 
 Plato's Elysium, leaped into the sea, 
 
 Cleombrotus; and many more too long, 
 
 Embryos and idiots, eremites and friars 
 
 White, black, and gray, with all their trumpery. 
 
 Here pilgrims roam, that strayed so far to seek 
 
 In Golgotha him dead, who lives in heaven ; 
 
 And they, who, to be sure of Paradise, 
 
 Dying put on the weeds of Dominic, 
 
 Or in Franciscan think to pass disguised ; 
 
 They pass the planets seven, and pass the fixed. 
 
 And that crj'stalline sphere whose balance weighs 
 
 The trepidation talked, and that first moved ; 
 
 And now Saint Peter at heaven's wicket seems 
 
 To wait them with his keys, and now at foot 
 
 Of heaven's ascent they lift their feet, when lo 
 
 A violent cross wind from either coast 
 
 Blows them transverse, ten thousand leagues awry 
 
 Into the devious air : then might ye see 
 
 Cowls, hoods, and habits, with their wearers, tost 
 
 And fluttered into rags; then reliques, beads, 
 
 Indulgences, dispenses, pardons, bulls. 
 
 The sport of winds : all these, upwhirled aloft. 
 
 Fly o'er the backside of the world far off*, 
 
 Into a limbo large and broad, since called 
 
 The Paradise of Fools, to few unknown 
 
 Long after, now unpeopled, and untrod. 
 
 All this dark globe the fiend found as he passed, 
 
 And long he wandered, till at last a gleam 
 
 Of dawning light turned thitherward in haste 
 
 His travelled steps: far distant he descries 
 
 Ascending by degrees magnificent 
 
 Up to the wall of heaven a structure high ; 
 
 At top whereof, but far more rich, appeared 
 
 The work as of a kingly palace-gate. 
 
 With frontispiece of diamond and gold 
 
 Embellished ; thick with sparkling orient gems 
 
 The portal shone, inimitable on earth 
 
 By model, or by shading pencil, drawn. 
 
 The stairs were such as whereon Jacob saw 
 
 Angels ascending and descending, bands 
 
 Of guardians bright, when he from Esau fled 
 
 To Padan-Aram, in the field of Luz, 
 
 Dreaming by night under the open sky, 
 
 And waking cried, * This is the gate of heaven.' 
 
 Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood 
 
 There alwaj's, but drawn up to heaven sometimes 
 
 Viewless ; and underneath a bright sea flowed 
 
 Of jasper, or of liquid pearl, whereon 
 
 Who after came from earth, sailing arrived, 
 
 Wafted by angels, or flew o'er the lake 
 
 Rapt in a chariot drawn by fiery steeds. 
 
 The stairs were then let down, whether to dare 
 
 The fiend by easy ascent, or aggravate 
 
 His sad exclusion from the doors of bliss : 
 
 Direct against which opened from beneath, 
 
 Just o'er the blissful seat of Paradise, 
 
 A passage down to the earth, a passage wide. 
 
 Wider by far than that of after-times 
 
 Over mount Sion, and, though that were large, 
 
 Over the Promised Land, to God so dear; 
 
 By which, to visit oft those happy tribes, 
 
 On high behests his angels to and fro 
 
 Passed frequent, and his eye with choice regard 
 
 From Paneas, the fount of Jordan's flood. 
 
 To Beersaba, where the Holy Land 
 
 Borders on Egypt and the Arabian shore ; 
 
 So wide the opening seemed, where bounds were set 
 
 To darkness, such as bound the ocean wave. 
 
 Satan from hence, now on the lower stair. 
 
 That scaled by steps of gold to heaven-gate. 
 
 Looks down with wonder at the sudden view 
 
 Of all this world at once. As when a scout, 
 
 Through dark and desert ways with peril gone 
 
 All night, at last by break of cheerful dawn 
 
 Obtains the brow of some high-climbing hill, 
 
 Which to his eye discovers unaware 
 
 The goodly prospect of some foreign land 
 
 First seen, or some renowned metropolis 
 
 With glistering spires and pinnacles adorned. 
 
 Which now the rising sun gilds with his beams : 
 
 Such wonder seized, though after heaven seen. 
 
 The spirit malign, but much more envy seized. 
 
 At sight of all this world beheld so fair. 
 
 Round he surveys, (and well might where he stood 
 
 So high above the circling canopy 
 
26 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 Of iiigfht's extended shade,) iVom eastern point 
 
 Of Libra to the fleecy star that bears 
 
 Andromeda far off Atlantic seas, 
 
 Beyond the horizon ; then from pole to pole 
 
 He views in breadth, and without longer pause 
 
 Downrig^ht into the world's first region throws 
 
 His flight precipitant, and winds with ease 
 
 Through the pure marble air his oblique way 
 
 Amongst innumerable stars, that shone 
 
 Stars distant, but nigh hand seemed other worlds ; 
 
 Or other worlds they seemed, or happy isles. 
 
 Like those Hesperian gardens famed of old. 
 
 Fortunate fields, and groves, and flowery vales, 
 
 Thrice-happy isles; but who dwelt happy there 
 
 He staid not to inquire : above them all 
 
 The golden sun, in splendour likest heaven. 
 
 Allured his eye; thither his course he bends 
 
 Through the calm firmament, (but up or down, 
 
 By center or eccentric, hard to tell. 
 
 Or longitude,) where the great luminary 
 
 Aloof the vulgar constellations thick. 
 
 That from his lordly eye keep distance due, 
 
 Dispenses light from far : they, as they move 
 
 Their starry dance in numbers that compute 
 
 Days, months, and years, towards his all-cheering 
 
 ^lamp 
 Turn swift their various motions, or are turned 
 By his magnetic beam, that gently warms 
 The universe, and to each inward part 
 With gentle penetration, though unseen, 
 Shoots invisible virtue even to the deep ; 
 So wondrously was set his station bright. 
 There lands the fiend, a spot like which perhaps 
 Astronomer in the sun's lucent orb 
 Through his glazed optic tube yet never saw. 
 The place he found beyond expression bright, 
 Compared with aught on earth, metal or stone; 
 Not all parts like, but all alike informed 
 With radiant light, as glowing iron with fire ; 
 If metal, part seemed gold, part silver clear; 
 If stone, carbuncle most or chrysolite. 
 Ruby or topaz, to the twelve that shone 
 In Aaron's breast-plate, and a stone besides 
 Imagined rather oft than elsewhere seen. 
 That stone, or like to that, which here below 
 Philosophers in vain so long have sought. 
 In vain, though by their powerful art they bind 
 Volatile Hermes, and call up unbound 
 In various shapes old Proteus from the sea. 
 Drained through a limbec to his native form. 
 What wonder then if fields and regions here 
 Breathe forth elixir pure, and rivers run 
 Potable gold, when witli one virtuous touch 
 The arch-chymic sun, so far from us remote, 
 Produces, with terrestrial humour mixed, 
 Here in the dark so many precious things 
 Of colour glurious, and effect so rare ? 
 Here matter new to gaze the devil met 
 Undazzled ; far and wide his eye commands ; 
 For sight no obstacle found here, nor shade, 
 But all sun-shine, as when his beams at noon 
 
 Culminate from the equator, as they now 
 
 Shot upward still direct, whence no way round 
 
 Shadow from body opaque can fall ; and the air, 
 
 No where so clear, sharpened his visual ray 
 
 To objects distant far, whereby he soon 
 
 Saw within ken a glorious angel stand. 
 
 The same whom John saw also in the sun : 
 
 His back was turned, but not his brightness hid ; 
 
 Of beaming sunny rays a golden tiar 
 
 Circled his head, nor less his locks behind 
 
 Illustrious on his shoulders, fledge with wings. 
 
 Lay waving round ; on some great charge employed 
 
 He seemed, or fixed in cogitation deep. 
 
 Glad was the spirit impure, as now in hope 
 
 To find who might direct his wandering flight 
 
 To Paradise, the happy seat of man. 
 
 His journey's end, and our beginning woe. 
 
 But first he casts to change his proper shape, 
 
 Which else might work him danger or delay ; 
 
 And now a stripling cherub he appears, 
 
 Not of the prime, yet such as in his face 
 
 Youth smiled celestial, and to every limb 
 
 Suitable grace diffused, so well he feigned : 
 
 Under a coronet his flowing hair 
 
 In curls on either cheek played ; wings he wore, 
 
 Of many a coloured plume, sprinkled with gold ; 
 
 His habit fit for speed succinct, and held 
 
 Before his decent steps a silver wand. 
 
 He drew not nigh unheard ; the angel bright. 
 
 Ere he drew nigh, his radiant visage turned. 
 
 Admonished by his ear, and straight was known 
 
 The archangel Uriel, one of the seven 
 
 Who in God's presence, nearest to his throne, 
 
 Stand ready at command, and are his eyes 
 
 That run through all the heavens, or down to the 
 
 earth 
 Bear his swift errands over moist and dry, 
 O'er sea and land : him Satan thus accosts: 
 
 ' Uriel, for thou of those seven spirits that stand 
 In sight of God's high throne, gloriously bright, 
 The first art wont his great authentic will 
 Interpreter through highest heaven to bring. 
 Where all his sons thy embassy attend ; 
 And here art likeliest by supreme decree 
 Like honour to obtain, and as his eye 
 To visit oft this new creation round ; 
 Unspeakable desire to see, and know. 
 All these his wondrous works, but chiefly man. 
 His chief delight and favour, him for whom 
 All these his works so wondrous he ordained. 
 Hath brought me from the quires of cherubim 
 Alone thus wandering. Brightest seraph, tell 
 In which of all these shining orbs hath man 
 His fixed seat, or fixed seat hath none. 
 But all these shining orbs his rlioice to dwell ; 
 That I may find him, and with secret gaze. 
 Or open admiration, him behold. 
 On whom the great Creator hath bestowed 
 Worlds, and on whom hath all these graces poured ; 
 That both in him and all things, as is meet. 
 The universal Maker we may praise, 
 
Book III. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 27 
 
 Who justly hath driven out his rebel foes 
 To deepest hell, and, to repair that loss, 
 Created this new happy race of men 
 To serve him better: wise are all his ways.' 
 
 So spake the false dissembler unperceived ; 
 For neither man nor ang'el can discern 
 Hypocrisy, the only evil that walks 
 Invisible, except to God alone, 
 By his permissive will, through heaven and earth : 
 And oft, though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps 
 At wisdom's gate, and to simplicity 
 Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill 
 Where no ill seems : which now for once beguiled 
 Uriel, though regent of the sun, and held 
 The sharpest sighted spirit of all in heaven ; 
 Who to the fraudulent impostor foul, 
 In his uprightness, answer thus returned: 
 
 * Fair angel, thy desire, which tends to know 
 The works of God, thereby to glorify 
 The great Work-master, leads to no excess 
 That reaches blame, but rather merits praise 
 The more it seems excess, that led thee hither 
 From thy empyreal mansion thus alone, 
 To witness with thine eyes what some perhaps, 
 Contented with report, hear only in heaven : 
 For wonderful indeed are all his works. 
 Pleasant to know, and worthiest to be all 
 Had in remembrance always with delight; 
 But what created mind can comprehend 
 Their number, or the wisdom infinite 
 That brought them forth, but hid their causes deep .' 
 I saw when at his word the formless mass, 
 The world's material mould, came to a heap : 
 
 Confusion heard his voice, and wild uproar 
 Stood ruled, stood vast infinitude confined; 
 Till at his second bidding darkness fled, 
 Light shone, and order from disorder sprung: 
 Swift to their several quarters hasted then 
 The cumbrous elements, earth, flood, air, fire; 
 And this ethereal quintessence of heaven 
 Flew upward, spirited with various forms, 
 That rolled orbicular, and turned to stars 
 Numberless, as thou seest, and how they move ; 
 Each had his place appointed, each his course; 
 The rest in circuit walls this universe. 
 Look downward on that globe, whose hither side 
 With light from hence, though but reflected, shines; 
 That place is earth, the seat of man ; that light 
 His day, which else, as the other hemisphere, 
 Night would invade ; but there the neighbouring moon 
 (So call that opposite fair star) her aid 
 Timely interposes, and her monthly round 
 Still ending, still renewing, through mid heaven, 
 With borrowed light her countenance triform 
 Hence fills and empties to enlighten the earth, 
 And in her pale dominion checks the night. 
 That spot to which I point is Paradise, 
 Adam's abode ; those lofty shades, his bower. 
 Thy way thou canst not miss, me mine requires.' 
 Thus said, he turned ; and Satan, bowing low, 
 As to superior spirits is wont in heaven, 
 Where honour due and reverence none neglects. 
 Took leave, and toward the coast of earth beneath, 
 Down from the ecliptic, sped with hoped success ; 
 Throws his steep flight in many an aery wheel, 
 Nor staid till on Nipbates' top he lights. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, now in prospect of Eden, and nigh the place where he must now attempt the bold enterprise which he undertook alone against 
 God and man, falls into many doubts with himself, and many passions, fear, envy, and despair ; but at length confirms himself in 
 evil, journeys on to Paradise, whose outward prospect and situation is described ; overleaps the bounds ; sits in the shape of a 
 cormorant on the tree of life, as highest in the garden, to look about him. The garden described ; Satan's first sight of Adam and 
 Eve ; his wonder at their excellent form and happy state, but with resolution to work their fall ; overhears their discourse, thence 
 gathers that the tree of knowledge was forbidden them to eat of, under penalty of death ; and thereon intends to found his tempta- 
 tion, by seducing them to transgress ; then leaves them awhile to know further of their state by some other means. Meanwhile 
 Uriel descending on a sun-beam warns Gabriel, who had in charge the gate of Paradise, that some evil spirit had escaped the deep, 
 and passed at noon by his sphere in the shape of a good angel down to Paradise, discovered after by his furious gestures in the 
 mount. Gabriel promises to find him ere morning. Night coming on, Adam and Eve discourse of going to their rest : their bower 
 described; their evening worship. Gabriel, drawing forth his bands of night-watch to walk the round of Paradise, appoints two 
 strong angels to Adam's bower, lest the evil spirit should be there doing some harm to Adam or Eve sleeping ; there they find him 
 at the ear of Eve tempting her in a dream, and bring him, though unwilling, to Gabriel ; by whom questioned, he scornfully 
 answers ; prepares resistance ; but, hindered by a sign from heaven, flies out of Paradise. 
 
 O, FOR that warning voice, which he, who saw 
 The Apocalypse, heard cry in heaven aloud, 
 Then when the Dragon, put to second rout. 
 Came furious down to be revenged on men, 
   Woe to the inhabitants on earth ! ' that now, 
 While time was, our first parents had been warned 
 
 The coming of their secret foe, and 'scaped, 
 Haply so 'scaped his mortal snare : for now 
 Satan, now first inflamed with rage, came down. 
 The tempter ere the accuser of mankind, 
 To wreak on innocent frail man his loss 
 0.f that first battle, and his flight to hell : 
 
28 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book IV 
 
 Yet, not rejoiciug' in his speed, though bold 
 
 Far off and fearless, nor with cause to boast, 
 
 Begins his dire attempt ; which nigh the birth 
 
 Now rolling boils in his tumultuous breast. 
 
 And like a devilish engine back recoils 
 
 Upon himself; horror and doubt distract 
 
 His troubled thoughts, and from the bottom stir 
 
 The hell within him ; for within him hell 
 
 He brings, and round about him, nor from hell 
 
 One step, no more than from himself, can fly. 
 
 By change of place : now conscience wakes despair, 
 
 That slumbered ; wakes the bitter memory 
 
 Of what he was, what is, and what must be 
 
 Worse ; of worse deeds worse sufferings must ensue. 
 
 Sometimes towards Eden, which now in his view 
 
 Lay pleasant, his grieved look he fixed sad ; 
 
 Sometimes towards heaven, and the full-blazing sun, 
 
 Which now sat high in his meridian tower: 
 
 Then, much revolving, thus in sighs began: 
 
 ' O thou, "at, with surpassing glory crowned, 
 Lookest from thy sole dominion like the god 
 Of this new world ; at whose sight all the stars 
 Hide their diminished heads ; to thee I call, 
 But with no friendly voice, and add thy name, 
 
 sun \ to tell thee how I hate thy beams, 
 That bring to my remembrance from what state 
 
 1 fell, how glorious once above thy sphere ; 
 Till pride and worse ambition threw me down. 
 Warring in heaven against heaven's matchless King : 
 Ah, wherefore.^ he deserved no such return 
 
 From me, whom he created what I was 
 
 In that bright eminence, and with his good 
 
 Upbraided none ; nor was his service hard. 
 
 What could be less than to afford him praise, 
 
 The easiest recompence, and pay him thanks. 
 
 How due ! yet all his good proved ill in me. 
 
 And wrought but malice ; lifted up so high 
 
 I 'sdained subjection, and thought one step higher 
 
 Would set me highest, and in a moment quit 
 
 The debt immense of endless gratitude, 
 
 So burdensome still paying, still to owe : 
 
 Forgetful what from him I still received. 
 
 And understood not that a grateful mind 
 
 By owing owes not, but still pays, at once 
 
 Indebted and discharged ; what burden then ? 
 
 O had his powerful destiny ordained 
 
 Me some inferior angel, I had stood 
 
 Then happy; no unbounded hope had raised 
 
 Ambition. Yet why not .'' some other power 
 
 As great might have aspired, and me, though mean, 
 
 Drawn to his part; but other powers as great 
 
 Fell not, but stand unshaken, from within 
 
 Or from without, to all temptations armed. 
 
 Hadst thou the same free will and power to stand ? 
 
 Thou hadst : whom hast thou then or what to accuse, 
 
 But Heaven's free love dealt equally to all ? 
 
 Be then his love accursed, since love or hate. 
 
 To me alike, it deals eternal woe. 
 
 Nay, cursed be thou ; since against his thy will 
 
 Chose freely what it now so justly rues. 
 
 Me miserable ! which way shall I fly 
 
 Infinite wrath, and infinite despair ? 
 
 Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell ; 
 
 And, in the lowest deep, a lotver deep 
 
 Still threatening to devour me opens wide, 
 
 To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven. 
 
 O, then, at last relent : is there no place 
 
 Left for repentance, none for pardon left ? 
 
 None left but by submission ; and that word 
 
 Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame 
 
 Among the spirits beneath, whom I seduced 
 
 With other promises and other vaunts 
 
 Than to submit, boasting I could subdue 
 
 The Omnipotent. Ay me ! they little know 
 
 How dearly I abide that boast so vain ; 
 
 Under what torments inwardly I groan. 
 
 While they adore me on the throne of bell. 
 
 With diadem and scepter high advanced, 
 
 The lower still I fall, only supreme 
 
 In misery : such joy ambition finds. 
 
 But say I could repent, and could obtain. 
 
 By act of grace, my former state ; how soon 
 
 Would highth recall high thoughts, how soon unsay 
 
 What feigned submission swore ! Ease would recant 
 
 Vows made in pain, as violent and void. 
 
 For never can true reconcilement grow 
 
 Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep : 
 
 Which would but lead me to a worse relapse 
 
 And heavier fall : so should I purchase dear 
 
 Short intermission bought with double smart. 
 
 This knows my punisher ; therefore as far 
 
 From granting he, as I from begging peace : 
 
 All hope excluded thus, behold, instead 
 
 Of us out-cast, exiled, his new delight, 
 
 Mankind created, and for him this world. 
 
 So farewell hope, and with hope farewell fear. 
 
 Farewell remorse : all good to me is lost ; 
 
 Evil, be thou my good : by thee at least 
 
 Divided empire with heaven's King I hold. 
 
 By thee, and more than half perhaps will reign ; 
 
 As man ere long, and this new world shall know.' 
 
 Thus while he spake, each passion dimmed his face 
 Thrice changed with pale ire, envy, and despair ; 
 Which marred his borrowed visage, and betrayed 
 Him counterfeit, if any eye beheld : 
 For heavenly minds from such distempers foul 
 Are ever clear. Whereof he soon aware, 
 Each perturbation smoothed with outward calm. 
 Artificer of fraud ; and was the first 
 That practised falsehood under saintly show. 
 Deep malice to conceal, couched with revenge : 
 Yet not enough had practised to deceive 
 Uriel once warned : whose eye pursued him down 
 The way he went, and on the Assyrian mount 
 Saw him disfigured, more than could befall 
 Spirit of happy sort : his gestures fierce 
 He marked, and mad demeanour, then alone, 
 As he supposed, all unobserved, unseen. 
 So on he fares, and to the border comes 
 Of Eden, where delicious Paradise, 
 Now nearer, crowns with her enclosure green, 
 As with a rural mound, the champaign head 
 
 V 
 
Book IV. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 29 
 
 Of a steep wilderness, whose hairj sides 
 
 With thicket overorown, grotesque and wild, 
 
 Access denied ; and over-head up-grew 
 
 Insuperable highth of loftiest shade, 
 
 Cedar, and pine, and fir, and branching palm, 
 
 A sylvan scene ; and, as the ranks ascend 
 
 Shade above shade, a woody theatre 
 
 Of stateliest view. Yet higher than their tops 
 
 The verdurous wall of Paradise up-sprung : 
 
 Which to our general sire gave prospect large 
 
 Into his nether empire neighbouring round : 
 
 And higher than that wall a circling row 
 
 Of goodliest trees, loaden with fairest fruit, 
 
 Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue, 
 
 Appeared, with gay enamelled colours mixed : 
 
 On which the sun more glad impressed his beams 
 
 Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, 
 
 When God hath showered the earth ; so lovely seemed 
 
 That landscape : and of pure, now purer air 
 
 Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires 
 
 Vernal delight and joy, able to drive 
 
 All sadness but despair : now gentle gales, 
 
 Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense 
 
 Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole 
 
 Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail 
 
 Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past 
 
 Mozambic, off at sea north-east winds blow 
 
 Sabean odours from the spicy shore 
 
 Of Araby the Blest; with such delay 
 
 Well pleased they slack their course, and many a 
 
 league 
 Cheered with the grateful smell old Ocean smiles : 
 So entertained those odorous sweets the fiend. 
 Who came their bane : though with them better pleased 
 Than Asmodeus with the fishy fume 
 That drove him, though enamoured, from the spouse 
 Of Tobit's son, and with a vengeance sent 
 From Media post to Egypt, there fast bound. 
 
 Now to the ascent of that steep savage hill^ 
 Satan had journeyed on, pensive and slow ; 
 But further way found none, so thick entwined 
 As one continued brake, the undergrowth 
 Of shrubs and tangling bushes had perplexed 
 All path of man or beast that passed that way. 
 One gate there only was, and that looked east 
 On the other side : which when the arch-felon saw, 
 Due entrance he disdained ; and, in contempt. 
 At one slight bound high over-leaped all bound 
 Of hill or highest wall, and sheer within 
 Lights on his feet. As when a prowling wolf. 
 Whom hunger drives to seek new haunt for prey. 
 Watching where shepherds pen their flocks at eve 
 In hurdled cotes amid the field secure. 
 Leaps o'er the fence with ease into the fold : 
 Or as a thief bent to unhoard the cash 
 Of some rich burgher, whose substantial doors, 
 Cross-barred and bolted fast, fear no assault, 
 In at the window climbs, or o'er the tiles : 
 So clomb the first grand thief into God's fold ; 
 So since into his church lewd hirelings climb. 
 Thence up he flew, and on the tree of life, 
 
 The middle tree and highest there that grew. 
 
 Sat like a cormorant ; yet not true life, 
 
 Thereby regained, but sat devising death 
 
 To them who lived ; nor on the virtue thought 
 
 Of that life-giving plant, but only used 
 
 For prospect, what well used had been the pledge 
 
 Of immortality. So little knows 
 
 Any, but God alone, to value right 
 
 The good before him, but perverts best things 
 
 To worst abuse, or to their meanest use. 
 
 Beneath him with new wonder now he views. 
 
 To all delight of human sense exposed, 
 
 In narrow room, nature's whole wealth, yea more, 
 
 A heaven on earth : for blissful Paradise 
 
 Of God the garden was, by him in the east 
 
 Of Eden planted ; Eden stretched her line 
 
 From Auran eastward to the royal towers 
 
 Of great Seleucia, built by Grecian kings, 
 
 Or where the sons of Eden long before 
 
 Dwelt in Telassar : in this pleasant soil 
 
 His far more pleasant garden God ordained : 
 
 Out of the fertile ground he caused to grow 
 
 All trees of noblest kind for sight, smell, taste; 
 
 And all amid them stood the tree of life, 
 
 High eminent, blooming ambrosial fruit 
 
 Of vegetable gold ; and next to life. 
 
 Our death, the tree of knowledge, grew fast by. 
 
 Knowledge of good, bought dear by knowing ill. 
 
 Southward through Eden went a river large, 
 
 Nor changed his course, but through the shaggy hill 
 
 Passed underneath ingulfed ; for God had thrown 
 
 That mountain as his garden-mould high-raised 
 
 Upon the rapid current, which through veins 
 
 Of porous earth with kindly thirst up-drawn, 
 
 Rose a fresh fountain, and with many a rill 
 
 Watered the garden ; thence united fell 
 
 Down the steep glade, and met the nether flood, 
 
 Which from his darksome passage now appears, 
 
 And, now divided into four main streams. 
 
 Runs diverse, wandering many a famous realm 
 
 And country, whereof here needs no account ; 
 
 But rather to tell how, if art could tell, 
 
 How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks, 
 
 Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold. 
 
 With mazy error under pendent shades 
 
 Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed 
 
 Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice art 
 
 In beds and curious knots, but nature boon 
 
 Poured forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain. 
 
 Both where the morning sun first warmly smote 
 
 The open field, and where the unpierced shade 
 
 Imbrowned the noontide bowers : thus was this place 
 
 A happy rural seat of various view ; 
 
 Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm ; 
 
 Others whose fruit, burnished with golden rind, 
 
 Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true. 
 
 If true, here only, and of delicious taste : 
 
 Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks 
 
 Grazing the tender herb, were interposed, 
 
 Or palmy hillock ; or the flowery lap 
 
 Of some irriguous valley spread her store, 
 
30 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Flowers of all hue, and without tliorn the rose : 
 
 Another side, umbrag'cous ^rots and caves 
 
 Of cool recess, o'er which the mantling- vine 
 
 Lays forth her purple grape, and gently creeps 
 
 Luxuriant; meanwhile murmuring waters fall 
 
 Down the slope bills, dispersed, or in a lake, 
 
 That to the fringed bank with myrtle crowned 
 
 Her crystal mirror holds, unite their streams. 
 
 The birds tlieir quire apply ; airs, vernal airs. 
 
 Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune 
 
 The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, 
 
 Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, 
 
 Led on the eternal Spring. Not that fair field 
 
 Of Enna, where Proserpine gathering flowers, 
 
 Herself a fairer flower, by gloomy Dis 
 
 Was gathered, which cost Ceres all that pain 
 
 To seek her through the world ; nor that sweet grove 
 
 Of Daphne by Orontes, and the inspired 
 
 Castalian spring, might with this Paradise 
 
 Of Eden strive ; nor that Nyseian isle 
 
 Girt with the river Triton, where old Cham, 
 
 Whom Gentiles Ammon call and Libyan Jove, 
 
 Hid Amalthea, and her florid son 
 
 Young Bacchus, from his stepdame Rhea's eye; 
 
 Nor where Abassin king^ their issue guard, 
 
 Mount Amara, though this by some supposed 
 
 True Paradise, under the Ethiop line 
 
 By Nilus'head, enclosed with shining rock, 
 
 A whole day's journey high, but wide remote 
 
 From this Assj-rian garden, where the fiend 
 
 Saw, undelighted, all delight, all kind 
 
 Of living creatures, new to sight and strange. 
 
 Two of far nobler shape, erect and tall. 
 
 Godlike erect, with native honour clad, 
 
 In naked majesty seemed lords of all : 
 
 And worthy seemed ; for in their looks divine 
 
 The image of their glorious Maker shone. 
 
 Truth, wisdom, sanctitude severe and pure, 
 
 (Severe, but in true filial freedom placed,) 
 
 Whence true authority in men ; though both 
 
 Not equal, as their sex not equal seemed ; 
 
 For contemplation he and valour formed ; 
 
 For softness she, and sweet attractive grace ; 
 
 He for God only, she for God in him : 
 
 His fair large front and eye sublime declared 
 
 Absolute rule ; and hyacinthine locks 
 
 Round from his parted forelock manly hung 
 
 Clustering, but not beneath his shoulders broad : 
 
 She, as a veil, down to the slender waist 
 
 Her unadorned golden tresses wore 
 
 Dishevelled, but in wanton ringlets waved, 
 
 As the vine curls her tendrils, which implied 
 
 Subjection, but required with gentle sway, 
 
 And by her yielded, by him best received. 
 
 Yielded with coy submission, modest pride, 
 
 And sweet, reluctant, amorous delay. 
 
 Nor those mysterious parts were then concealed ; 
 
 Then was not guilty shame : dishonest shame 
 
 Of nature's works, honour dishonourable. 
 
 Sin-bred, how have ye troubled all mankind 
 
 With shows instead, mere shows of seeming pure, 
 
 And banished from man's life his happiest life. 
 Simplicity and spotless innocence ! 
 So passed they naked on, nor shunned the sight 
 Of God or angel ; for they thought no ill : 
 So hand in hand they passed, the loveliest pair 
 That ever since in love's embraces met; 
 Adam the goodliest man of men since born 
 His sons, the fairest of her daughters Eve. 
 Under a tuft of shade that on a green 
 Stood whispering soft, by a fresh fountain-side 
 They sat them down ; and, after no more toil 
 Of their sweet gardening labour then sufficed 
 To recommend cool zephyr, and made ease 
 More easy, wholesome thirst and appetite 
 More grateful, to their supper-fruits they fell, 
 Nectarine fruits, which the compliant boughs 
 Yielded them, sidelong as they sat recline 
 On the soft downy bank damasked with flowers : 
 The savoury pulp they chew, and in the rind, 
 Still as they thirsted, scoop the brimming stream ; 
 Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles, 
 Wanted, nor youthful dalliance, as beseems 
 Fair couple, linked in happy nuptial league, 
 Alone as they. About them frisking played 
 All beasts of the earth, since wild, and of all chase 
 In wood or wilderness, forest or den ; 
 Sporting the lion ramped, and in his paw 
 Dandled the kid ; bears, tigers, ounces, pards, 
 Gambolled before them ; the unwieldy elephant. 
 To make them mirth, used all hismight.and wreathed 
 His lithe proboscis ; close the serpent sly. 
 Insinuating, wove with Gordian twine 
 His braided train, and of his fatal guile 
 Gave proof unheeded ; others on the grass 
 Couched, and now filled with pasture gazing sat. 
 Or bedward ruminating; for the sun. 
 Declined, was hasting now with prone career 
 To the ocean isles, and in the ascending scale 
 Of heaven the stars that usher evening rose ; 
 When Satan still in gaze, as first he stood. 
 Scarce thus at length failed speech recovered sad : 
 * O hell ! what do mine eyes with grief behold ? 
 Into our room of bliss thus high advanced 
 Creatures of other mould, earth-born perhaps, 
 Not spirits, yet to heavenly spirits bright 
 Little inferior ; whom my thoughts pursue 
 With wonder, and could love, so lively shines 
 In them divine resemblance, and such grace 
 The hand that formed them on their shape hath poured. 
 Ah ! gentle pair, ye little think how nigh 
 Your change approaches, when all these delights 
 Will vanish, and deliver yc to woe ; 
 More woe, the more your taste is now of joy ; 
 Happy, but for so happy ill secured 
 Long to continue, and this high seat your heaven 
 111 fenced for heaven to keep out such a foe 
 As now is entered ; yet no purposed foe 
 To you, whom I could pity thus forlorn, 
 Though I unpitied : league with you I seek, 
 And mutual amity, so strait, so close. 
 That I with you must dwell, or you with me, 
 
Book IV. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 31 
 
 Henceforth : my dwelling' haply may not please, 
 
 Like this fair Paradise, your sense : yet such 
 
 Accept your Maker's work ; he gave it me, 
 
 Which I as freely give ; hell shall unfold, 
 
 To entertain you two, her widest gates. 
 
 And send forth all her kings; there will be room,- 
 
 Not like these narrow limits, to receive 
 
 Your numerous offspring ; if no better place. 
 
 Thank him who puts me loth to this revenge 
 
 On you, who wrong me not, for him who wronged. 
 
 And should I at your harmless innocence 
 
 Melt, as I do, yet public reason just. 
 
 Honour and empire with revenge enlarged. 
 
 By conquering this new world, compels me now 
 
 To do what else, though damned, I should abhor.' 
 
 So spake the fiend, and with necessity. 
 The tyrant's plea, excused his devilish deeds. 
 Then from his lofty stand on that high tree 
 Down he alights among the sportful herd 
 Of those four-footed kinds ; himself now one, 
 Now other, as tiieir shape served best his end 
 Nearer to view his prey, and unespied. 
 To mark what of their state he more might learn. 
 By word or action marked : about them round 
 A lion now he stalks with fiery glare ; 
 Then as a tiger, who by chance has spied 
 In some purlieu two gentle fawns at play, ^,^- 
 Straight couches close, then rising, changes oft 
 His couchant watch, as one who chose his ground. 
 Whence rushing he might surest seize them both, 
 Griped in each paw : when Adam, first of men. 
 To first of women. Eve, thus moving speech, / 
 
 Turned him, all ear to hear new utterance flow : / 
 
 ' Sole partner, and sole part of all these joys. 
 Dearer thyself than all ; needs must the Power 
 That made us, and for us this ample world, 
 Be infinitely good, and of his good 
 As liberal and free as infinite ; 
 That raised us from the dust, and placed us here 
 In all this happiness, who at his hand 
 Have nothing merited, nor can perform 
 Aught whereof he hath need ; he who requires 
 From us no other service than to keep 
 This one, this easy charge ; of all the trees 
 In Paradise that bear delicious fruit 
 So various, not to taste that only tree 
 Of knowledge, planted by the tree of life ; 
 So near grows death to life, whate'er death is, 
 Some dreadful thing no doubt ; for well thou knowest 
 God has pronounced it death to taste that tree, 
 The only sign of our obedience left 
 Among so many signs of power and rule 
 Conferred upon us, and dominion given 
 Over all other creatures that possess 
 Earth, air, and sea. Then let us not think hard 
 One easy prohibition, who enjoy 
 Free leave so large to all things else, and choice 
 Unlimited of manifold delights : 
 But let us ever praise him, and extol 
 His bounty, following our delightful task. 
 To prune these growing plants, and tend these flowers, 
 
 Which were it toilsome, yet with thee were sweet.* 
 To whom thus Eve replied : ' O thou for whom 
 And from whom I was formed, flesh of thy flesh. 
 And without whom am to no end, my guide 
 And head ! what thou hast said is just and right. 
 For we to him indeed all praises owe. 
 And daily thanks ; I chiefly, who enjoy 
 So far the happier lot, enjoying thee 
 Pre-eminent by so much odds, while thou 
 Like consort to thyself canst no where find. 
 That day I oft remember, when from sleep 
 I first awaked, and found myself reposed 
 Under a shade on flowers, much wondering where 
 And what I was, whence thither brought, and how. 
 Not distant far from thence a murmuring sound 
 Of waters issued from a cave, and spread 
 Into a liquid plain, then stood unmoved 
 Pure as the expanse of heaven ; I thither went 
 With unexperienced thought, and laid me down 
 On the green bank, to look into the clear 
 Smooth lake, that to me seemed another sky. 
 As I bent down to look, just opposite 
 A shape within the watry gleam appeared. 
 Bending to look on me : I started back. 
 It started back ; but pleased T soon returned. 
 Pleased it returned as soon with answering looks 
 Of sympathy and love : there I had fixed 
 Mine eyes till now, and pined with vain desire, 
 Had not a voice thus warned me : What thou seest, 
 What there thou seest, fair creature, is thyself; 
 With thee it came and goes ; but follow me. 
 And I will bring thee where no shadow stays 
 Thy coming, and thy soft embraces, he 
 Whose image thou art; him thou shalt enjoy 
 Inseparably thine, to him shalt bear 
 Multitudes like thyself, and thence be called 
 Mother of human race. What could I do, 
 But follow straight, invisibly thus led ? 
 Till I espied thee, fair indeed and tall. 
 Under a plantane, yet methought less fair. 
 Less winning soft, less amiably mild, 
 Than that smooth watry image : back I turned ; 
 Thou following cryedst aloud. Return, fair Eve ; 
 Whom flyest thou ? whom thou flyest, of him thou 
 
 art, 
 His flesh, his bone; to give thee being I lent 
 Out of my side to thee, nearest my heart, 
 Substantial life, to have thee by my side 
 Henceforth an individual solace dear; 
 Part of my soul, I seek thee, and thee claim 
 My other half. With that thy gentle hand 
 Seized mine : I yielded ; and from that time see 
 How beauty is excelled by manly grace. 
 And wisdom, which alone is truly fair,' 
 
 So spake our general mother, and with eyes 
 Of conjugal attraction unreproved. 
 And meek surrender, half-embracing leaned 
 On our first father; half her swelling breast 
 Naked met his, under the flowing gold 
 Of her loose tresses hid : he in delight 
 Both of her beauty and submissive charms, 
 
32 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Smiled with superior love, as Jupiter 
 
 On Juno smiles, when he impregns the clouds 
 
 That shed May flowers ; and pressed her matron lip 
 
 With kisses pure : aside the Devil turned 
 
 For envy ; yet with jealous leer malig'n 
 
 Eyed them askance, and to himself thus 'plained : 
 
 'Sight hateful, sight tormenting'! thus these two, 
 Imparadised in one another's arms, 
 The happier Eden, shall enjoy their fill 
 Of bliss on bliss ; while I to hell am thrust, 
 Where neither joy nor love, but fierce desire, 
 Among our other torments not the least, 
 Still unfulfilled, with pain of longing pines. ^ 
 Yet let me not forget what I have gained 
 From their own mouths ; all is not theirs, it seems ; 
 One fatal tree there stands, of knowledge called. 
 Forbidden them to taste : knowledge forbidden ? 
 Suspicions, reasonless. Why should their Lord 
 Envy them that? Can it be sin to know ? 
 Can it be death ? And do they only stand 
 By ignorance ? Is that their happy state, 
 The proof of their obedience and their faith ? 
 O fair foundation laid whereon to build 
 Their ruin ! Hence I will excite their minds 
 With more desire to know, and to reject 
 Envious commands, invented with design 
 To keep them low, whom knowledge might exalt 
 Equal with gods : aspiring to be such. 
 They taste and die ; what likelier can ensue ? 
 But first with narrow search I must walk round 
 This garden, and no corner leave unspied ; 
 A chance but chance may lead where I may meet 
 Some wandering spirit of heaven by fountain-side. 
 Or in thick shade retired, from him to draw 
 What further would be learned. Live while ye may, 
 Yet happy pair ; enjoy, till I return. 
 Short pleasures, for long woes are to succeed.' 
 
 So saying, bis proud step be scornful turned, 
 But with sly circumspectiori, and began 
 Through wood, through waste, o'er hill, o'er dale, his 
 
 roam. 
 Meanwhile, in utmost longitude, where heaven 
 With earth and ocean meets, the setting sun 
 Slowly descended, and with right aspect 
 Against the eastern gate of Paradise 
 Levelled his evening rays : it was a rock 
 Of alabaster, piled up to the clouds, 
 Conspicuous far, winding with one ascent 
 Accessible from earth, one entrance high ; 
 The rest was craggy cliff, that overhung 
 Still as it rose, impossible to climb. 
 Betwixt these rocky pillars Gabriel sat, 
 Chief of the angelic guards, awaiting night ; 
 About him exercised heroic games 
 The unarmed youth of heaven, but nigh at hand 
 Celestial armoury, shields, helms, and spears. 
 Hung high, with diamond flaming and with gold. 
 Thither came Uriel, gliding through the even 
 On a sunbeam, swift as a shooting star 
 In autumn thwarts the night, when vapours fired 
 Impress the air, and shows the mariner 
 
 From what point of his compass to beware 
 Impetuous winds: he thus began in haste: 
 
 ' Gabriel, to thee thy course by lot iiath given 
 Charge and strict watch, that to this happy place 
 No evil thing approach or enter in. 
 This day at highth of noon came to my sphere 
 A spirit, zealous, as he seemed, to know 
 More of the Almighty's works, and chiefly man, 
 God's latest image : I described his way 
 Bent all on speed, and marked his aery gait; 
 But in the mount that lies from Eden north. 
 Where he first lighted, soon discerned his looks 
 Alien from heaven, with passions foul obscured : 
 Mine eye pursued him still, but under shade 
 Lost sight of him : one of the banished crew, 
 I fear, hath ventured from the deep to raise 
 New troubles ; hi^n thy care must be to find.' 
 
 To whom the wjnged warrior thus returned : 
 ' Uriel, no vi'onder if thy perfect sight. 
 Amid the sun's bright circle where thou sitt'st. 
 See far and wide: in at this gate none pass 
 The vigilance here placed, but such as come 
 Well known from heaven ; and since meridian hour 
 No creature thence : if spirit of other sort, 
 So minded, have o'erleaped these earthy bounds 
 On purpose, hard thou knowest it to exclude 
 Spiritual substance with corporeal bar. 
 But if vi'ithin the circuit of these walks, 
 In whatsoever shape he lurk, of whom 
 Thou tell'st, by morrow dawning I shall know.' 
 
 So promised he ; and Uriel to his charge 
 Returned on that bright beam, whose point now raised 
 Bore him slope downward to the sun, now fallen 
 Beneath the Azores ; whether the prime orb. 
 Incredible how swift, had thither rolled 
 Diurnal, or this less voliibil earth. 
 By shorter flight to the east, had left him there 
 Arraying with reflected purple and gold 
 The clouds that on his western throne attend. 
 Now came still evening on, and twilight grey 
 Had in her sober livery all things clad ; 
 Silence accompanied ; for beast and bird. 
 They to their grassy couch, these to their nests 
 Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale. 
 She all night long her amorous descant sung ; 
 Siletice was pleased : now glowed the firmament 
 With living sapphires : Hesperus, that led 
 The starry host, rode brightest, till the moon, 
 Rising in clouded majesty, at length. 
 Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light. 
 And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. 
 
 When Adam thus to Eve : ' Fair consort, the hour 
 Of night, and all things now retired to rest. 
 Mind us of like repose; since God hath set 
 Labour and rest, as day and night, to men 
 Successive; and the timely dew of sleep, 
 Now falling with soft slumbrous weight, inclines 
 Our eye-lids : other creatures all day long 
 Rove idle, unemployed, and less need rest ; 
 Man bath his daily work of body or mind 
 Appointed, which declares his dignity, 
 
Book IV. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 33 
 
 And the regard of Heaven on all his ways; 
 While other animals unactive range, 
 And of their doingfs God takes no account^ss^ 
 To-morrow, ere fresh morning streak the east 
 With first approach of light, we must be risen, 
 And at our pleasant labour to reform 
 Yon flowery arbours, yonder alleys green, 
 Our walk at noon, with branches overgrown, 
 That mock our scant manuring, and require 
 More hands than ours to lop their wanton growth: 
 Those blossoms also, and those dropping gums. 
 That lie bestrewn, unsightly and unsmooth. 
 Ask riddance, if we mean to tread with ease ; 
 Meanwhile, as nature wills, night bids us rest.' 
 
 To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorned : 
   My author and disposer, what thou biddest 
 Unargued I obey : so God ordains ; 
 God is thy law, thou mine : to know no more 
 Is woman's happiest knowledge, and her praise. 
 With thee conversing I forget all time ; 
 All seasons, and their change, all please alike. 
 Sweet is the breath of morn, her rising sweet, 
 With charm of earliest birds; pleasant the sun, 
 When first on this delightful land he spreads 
 His orient beams, on herb, tree, fruit, and flower, 
 Glistering with dew : fragrant the fertile earth 
 After soft showers ; and sweet the coming on 
 Of grateful evening mild ; then silent night, 
 With this her solemn bird, and this fair moon. 
 And these the gems of heaven, her starry train : 
 But neither breath of morn, when she ascends 
 With charm of earliest birds ; nor rising sun 
 On this delightful land; nor herb, fruit, flower. 
 Glistering with dew ; nor fragrance after showers; 
 Nor grateful evening mild ; nor silent night, 
 With this her solemn bird ; nor walk by moon, 
 Or glittering star-light; without thee is sweet. 
 But wherefore all night long shine these ? for whom 
 This glorious sight, when sleep hath shut all eyes.'" 
 
 To whom our general ancestor replied : 
 ' Daughter of God and man, accomplished Eve, 
 These have their course to finish round the earth 
 By morrow evening, and from land to land 
 In order, though to nations yet unborn. 
 Ministering light prepared, they set and rise ; 
 Lest total darkness should by night regain 
 Her old possession, and extinguish life 
 In nature and all things; which these soft fires 
 Not only enlighten, but with kindly heat 
 Of various influence foment and warm, 
 Temper or nourish, or in part shed down 
 Their stellar virtue on all kinds that grew 
 On earth, made hereby apter to receive 
 Perfection from the sun's more potent ray. 
 These then, though unbeheld in deep of night. 
 Shine not in vain. Nor think, though men were none, 
 That heaven would want spectators, God want praise; 
 Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth 
 Unseen, both when we wake and when we sleep : 
 All these with ceaseless praise his works behold 
 Both day and night. How often from the steep 
 * D 
 
 Of echoing hill or thicket have we heard 
 Celestial voices to the midnight air. 
 Sole, or responsive each to other's note. 
 Singing their great Creator! oft in bands 
 While they keep watch, or nightly rounding walk, 
 With heavenly touch of instrumental sounds 
 In full harmonic number joined, their songs 
 Divide the night, and lift our thoughts to heaven.' 
 
 Thus talking, hand in hand alone they passed 
 On to their blissful bower : it was a place 
 Chosen by the sovran Planter, when he framed 
 All things to man's delightful use; the roof 
 Of thickest covert was inwoven shade 
 Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew 
 Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side 
 Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub. 
 Fenced up the verdant wall ; each beauteous flower, 
 Iris all hues, roses, and jessamin. 
 Reared high their flourished heads between, and 
 
 wrought 
 Mosaic ; under foot the violet, 
 Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay 
 Broidered the ground, more coloured than with stone 
 Or costliest emblem : other creature here. 
 Bird, beast, insect, or worm, durst enter none. 
 Such was their awe of man. In shadier bower 
 More sacred and sequestered, though but feigned, 
 Pan or Sylvanus never slept, nor nymph 
 Nor Faunus haunted. Here, in close recess. 
 With flowers, garlands, and sweet-smelling herbs. 
 Espoused Eve decked first her nuptial bed ; 
 And heavenly quires the hymenean sung. 
 What day the genial angel to our sire 
 Brought her, in naked beauty more adorned. 
 More lovely, than Pandora, whom the gods 
 Endowed with all their gifts ; and O too like 
 In sad event, when to the unwiser son 
 Of Japhet brought by Hermes, she ensnared 
 Mankind with her fair looks, to be avenged 
 On him who had stole Jove's authentic fire.j 
 Thus, at their shady lodge arrived, both stood. 
 Both turned, and under open sky adored 
 The God that made both sky, air, earth, and heaven, 
 Which they beheld, the moon's resplendent globe. 
 And starry pole : ' Thou also madest the night, 
 Maker Omnipotent, and thou the day 
 Which we, in our appointed work employed. 
 Have finished, happy in our mutual help 
 And mutual love, the crown of all our bliss 
 Ordained by thee ; and this delicious place 
 For us too large, where thy abundance wants 
 Partakers, and uncropt falls to the ground. 
 But thou hast promised from us two a race 
 To fill the earth, who shall with us extol 
 Thy goodness infinite, both when we wake, 
 And when we seek, as now, thy gift of sleep.' 
 
 This said unanimous, and other rites 
 Observing none, but adoration pure 
 Which God likes best, into their inmost bower 
 Handed they went; and, eased the putting off 
 These troublesome disguises which we wear. 
 
34 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Straight side by side were laid ; nor turned, I ween, 
 
 Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites 
 
 Mysterious of connubial love refused : 
 
 Whatever hypocrites austerely talk 
 
 Of purity, and place, and innocence, 
 
 Defaminj;^ as impure what God declares 
 
 Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all. 
 
 Our Maker bids increase ; who bids abstain 
 
 But our destroyer, foe to Gcd and man ? 
 
 Hail, wedded love, mysterious law, true source 
 
 Of human offsprin<T, sole propriety 
 
 In Paradise, of all thing's common else./' 
 
 By thee adulterous lust was driven from men 
 
 Among the bestial herds to range : by thee 
 
 Founded in reason, loyal, just, and pure, 
 
 Relations dear, and all the charities 
 
 Of father, son, and brother, first were known. 
 
 Far be it, that I should write thee sin or blame, 
 
 Or think thee unbefitting holiest place, 
 
 Perpetual fountain of domestic sweets. 
 
 Whose bed is undefiled and chaste pronounced, 
 
 Present, or past, as saints and patriarchs used. 
 
 Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
 
 His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 
 
 Reigns here and revels ; not in the bought smile 
 
 Of harlots, loveless, joyless, unendeared, 
 
 Casual fruition ; nor in court-amours, 
 
 Mixed dance, or wanton mask, or midnight ball, 
 
 Or serenate, which the starved lover sings 
 
 To his proud fair, best quitted with disdain. 
 
 These, lulled by nightingales, embracing slepl, 
 
 And on their naked limbs the flowery roof 
 
 Showered roses, which the mom repaired. Sleep on, 
 
 Blest pair; and yet happiest, if ye seek 
 
 No happier state, and know to know no more. 
 
 Now bad night measured with her shadowy cone 
 Half way up hill this vast sublunar vault, 
 And from their ivory port the cherubim. 
 Forth issuing at the accustomed hour, stood armed 
 To their night-watches in warlike parade ; 
 When Gabriel to his next in power thus spake : 
 
 * Uzziel, half these draw off, and coast the south 
 With strictest watch ; these other wheel the north : 
 Our circuit meets full west.' As flame they part, 
 Half wheeling to the shield, half to the spear. 
 From these, two strong and subtle spirits be called 
 That near him stood, and gave them thus in charge : 
 
 ' Ithuricl and Zephon, with winged speed 
 Search through this garden, leave unsearchcd no nook ; 
 But chiefly where those two fair creatures lodge, 
 Now laid perhaps asleep, secure of harm.^ 
 This evening from the sun's decline arrived. 
 Who tells of some infernal spirit seen 
 Hitherward bent (who could have thought .'') escaped 
 The bars of hell, on errand bad no doubt : 
 Such, where ye find, seize fast, and hither bring.' 
 
 So saying, on he led his radiant files. 
 Dazzling the moon ; these to the bower direct 
 In search of whom they sought : him there they found 
 Squat like a toad, close at the ear of Eve, 
 Assaying by his devilish art to reach 
 
 The organs of her fancy, and with them forge 
 
 Illusions, as he list, phantasms and dreams; 
 
 Or if, inspiring venom, he might taint 
 
 The animal spirits, that from pure blood arise 
 
 Like gentle breaths from rivei"s pure, thence raise 
 
 At least distempered, discontented thoughts, 
 
 Vain hopes, vain aims, inordinate desires. 
 
 Blown up with high conceits engendering pride. ^ 
 
 Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear 
 
 Touched lightly ; for no falsehood can endure 
 
 Touch of celestial temper, but returns 
 
 Of force to its own likeness: up he starts 
 
 Discovered and surprised. As when a spark 
 
 Lights on a heap of nitrous powder, laid 
 
 Fit for the tun, some magazine to store 
 
 Against a rumoured war, the smutty grain. 
 
 With sudden blaze diffused, inflames the air ; 
 
 So started up in his own shape the fiend. 
 
 Back stept those two fair angels, half amazed 
 
 So sudden to behold the grisly king ; 
 
 Yet thus, unmoved with fear, accost him soon: 
 
 ' Which of those rebel spirits adjudged to hell 
 Comest thou, escaped thy prison? and transformed. 
 Why sattest thou like an enemy in wait. 
 Here watching at the head of these that sleep ?' 
 
 • Know ye not then,' said Satan, filled with scorn, 
 ' Know ye not me ? ye knew me once no mate 
 For you, there sitting where ye durst not soar : 
 Not to know me, argues yourselves unknown. 
 The lowest of your throng : or, if ye know. 
 Why ask ye, and superfluous begin 
 Your message, like to end as much in vain ? ' 
 
 To whom thus Zephon, answering scorn with scorn : 
 * Think not, revolted spirit^ thy shape the same, 
 Or undiminished brightness to be known. 
 As when thou stoodest in heaven upright and pure; 
 That glory then, when thou no more wast good, 
 Departed from thee ; and thou resemblest now 
 
 Thy sin and place of doom obscure and foul. 
 
 But come, for thou, be sure, shalt give account 
 To him who sent us, whose charge is to keep 
 This place inviolable, and these from harm.' 
 
 So spake the cherub ; and his grave rebuke 
 Severe in youthful beauty, added grace 
 Invincible : abashed the devil stood. 
 And felt how awful goodness is, and saw 
 Virtue in her shape how lovely ; saw, and pined 
 His loss ; but chiefly to find here observed 
 His lustre visibly impaired ; yet seemed 
 Undaunted. ' Tf I must contend,' said he, 
 ' Best with the best, the sender not the sent. 
 Or all at once ; more glory will be won, 
 Or less be lost.' ' Thy fear,' said Zephon bold, 
 ' Will save us trial what the least can do 
 Single against thee wicked, and thence weak.' 
 
 The fiend replied not, overcome with rage; 
 But, like a proud steed reined, went haughty on, 
 Champing his iron curb : to strive or fly 
 He held it vain ; awe from above had quelled 
 His heart, not else dismayed. Now drew they nigh 
 The western point, where those half-rounding guards 
 
Book IV. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 35 
 
 Just met, and closing' stood in squadron joined, 
 Awaiting- next command. To whom their chief, 
 Gabriel, from the front thus called aloud : 
 
 ' O friends ! I hear the tread of nimble feet 
 Hasting this way, and now by glimpse discern 
 Ithuriel and Zlephon through the shade; 
 And with them comes a third of regal port. 
 But faded splendour wan ; who by his gait 
 And fierce demeanour seems the prince of hell, 
 Not likely to part hence without contest; 
 Stand firm, for in his look defiance lours.' 
 
 He scarce had ended, when those two approached. 
 And brief related whom they brought, where found, 
 How busied, in what form and posture couched. 
 
 To whom with stern regard thus Gabriel spake: 
 
 * Why hast thou, Satan, broke the bounds prescribed 
 To thy transgressions, and disturbed the charge 
 
 Of others, who approve not to transgress 
 By thy example, but have power and right 
 To question thy bold entrance on this place; 
 Employed, it seems, to violate sleep, and those 
 Whose dwelling God hath planted here in bliss?' 
 To whom thus Satan with contemptuous brow : 
 
 * Gabriel, thou hadst in heaven the esteem of wise, 
 And such I held thee ; but this question asked 
 Puts me in doubt. Lives there who loves his pain ? 
 Who would not, finding way, break loose from hell. 
 Though thither doomed.^ Thou wouldst thyself, no 
 
 doubt. 
 And boldly venture to whatever place 
 Farthest from pain, where thou mightst hope to change 
 Torment with ease, and soonest recompense 
 Dole with delight, which in this place I sought; 
 To thee no reason, who knowest only good, 
 But evil hast not tried : and wilt object 
 His will who bounds us ? Let him surer bar 
 His iron gates, if he intends our stay 
 In that dark durance : thus much what was asked. 
 The rest is true, they found me where they say ; 
 But that implies not violence or harm.' 
 
 Thus he in scorn. The warlike angel moved. 
 Disdainfully half smiling, thus replied: 
 
 * O loss of one in heaven to judge of wise, 
 Since Satan fell, whom folly overthrew. 
 And now returns him from his prison 'scaped, 
 Gravely in doubt whether to hold them wise 
 
 Or not, who ask what boldness brought him hither 
 Unlicensed from his bounds in hell prescribed ; 
 So wise he judges it to fly from pain 
 However, and to 'scape his punishment ! 
 So judge thou still, presumptuous! till the wrath. 
 Which thou incurrest by flying, meet thy flight 
 Sevenfold, and scourge that wisdom back to hell. 
 Which taught thee yet no better, that no pain 
 Can equal anger infinite provoked. 
 But wherefore thou alone .'' wherefore with thee 
 Came not all hell broke loose ? is pain to them 
 Less pain, less to be fled ; or thou than they 
 Less hardy to endure? Courageous chief! 
 The first in flight from pain ! hadst thou alleged 
 To thy deserted host this cause of flight, 
 D 2 
 
 Thou surely hadst not come sole fugitive.' 
 
 To which the fiend thus answered, frowning stern : 
 ' Not that I less endure or shrink from pain, 
 Insulting angel ! well thou knowest I stood 
 Thy fiercest, when in battle to thy aid 
 The blasting volleyed thunder made all speed, 
 And seconded thy else not dreaded spear. 
 But still thy words at random, as before. 
 Argue thy inexperience what behoves 
 From hard assays and ill successes past 
 A faithful leader, not to hazard all 
 Through ways of danger by himself untried : 
 I therefore, I alone first undertook 
 To wing the desolate abyss, and spy 
 This new-created world, whereof in hell 
 Fame is not silent, here in hope to find 
 Better abode, and my afflicted powers 
 To settle here on earth, or in mid air ; 
 Though for possession put to try once more 
 What thou and thy gay legions dare against ; 
 Whose easier business were to serve their Lord 
 High up in heaven, with songs to hymn his throne, 
 And practised distances to cringe, not fight.* 
 
 To whom the warrior-angel soon replied : 
 ' To say and straight unsay, pretending first 
 Wise to fly pain, professing next the spy, 
 Argues no leader, but a liar traced, 
 Satan: and couldst thou faithful add ? O name, 
 sacred name of faithfulness profaned ! 
 Faithful to whom ? to thy rebellious crew ? 
 Army of fiends, fit body to fit head. 
 Was this your discipline and faith engaged. 
 Your military obedience, to dissolve 
 Allegiance to the acknowledged Power Supreme ? 
 And thou, sly hypocrite, who now wouldst seem 
 Patron of liberty, who more than thou 
 Once fawned, and cringed, and servilely adored 
 Heaven's awful Monarch ? wherefore, but in hope 
 To dispossess him, and thyself to reign ? 
 But mark what I areed thee now, Avaunt ; 
 Fly thither whence thou fled'st. If from this hour 
 Within these hallowed limits thou appear. 
 Back to the infernal pit I drag thee chained. 
 And seal thee so, as henceforth not to scorn 
 The facile gates of hell too slightly barred.' 
 
 So threatened he ; but Satan to no threats 
 Gave heed, but waxing more in rage replied : 
 
 ' Then when I am thy captive talk of chains, 
 Proud limitary cherub ! but ere then 
 Far heavier load thyself expect to feel 
 From my prevailing arm, though heaven's Xing' 
 Ride on thy wings, and thou with thy compeers 
 Used to the yoke, drawest his triumphant wheels 
 In progress through the road of heaven star-paved.' 
 
 While thus he spake, the angelic squadron bright 
 Turned fiery red, sharpening in mooned horns 
 Their phalanx, and began to hem him round 
 With ported spears, as thick as when a field 
 Of Ceres ripe for harvest waving bends 
 Her bearded grove of ears, which way the wind 
 Sways them ; the careful ploughman doubting stands. 
 
36 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book \ . 
 
 Lest on the threshings floors his hopeful sheaves 
 
 Prove chafT. On the other side, Satan, alarmed, 
 
 Collecting all his migsht, dilated stood, 
 
 Like Teneriff or Atlas unrcmoved : 
 
 His stature reached the sky, an! on his crest 
 
 Sat horror plumed ; nor wanted in his grasp 
 
 What seemed both spear and shield. Now dreadful 
 
 deeds 
 Might have ensued, not only Paradise, 
 In this commotion, but the starry cope 
 Of heaven perhaps, or all the elements 
 At least had gone to wrack, disturbed and torn 
 With violence of this conflict, had not soon 
 The Eternal, to prevent such horrid fray. 
 Hung forth in heaven his golden scales, yet seen 
 Betwixt Astrea and the Scorpion sign. 
 Wherein all things created first he weighed. 
 The pendulous round earth with balanced air 
 
 In counterpoise ; now ponders all events. 
 Battles and realms : in these he put two weights, 
 The sequel each of parting and of fight : 
 The latter quick up-flew, and kicked the beam ; 
 Which Gabriel spying, thus bcspake the fiend : 
 ' Satan, I know thy strength, and thou knowest 
 mine ; 
 Neither our own, but given : what folly then 
 To boast what arms can do ? since thine no more 
 Than Heaven permits, nor mine, though doubled now 
 To trample thee as mire : for proof look up. 
 And read thy lot in yon celestial sign. 
 Where thou art weighed, and shown how light, how 
 
 weak. 
 If thou resist.' The fiend looked up, and knew 
 His mounted scale aloft : nor more ; but fled 
 Murmuring, and with him fled the shades of night. 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Morning approached, Eve relates to Adam her troublesome dream; he likes it not, yet comforts her: they come forth to their 
 day-labours : their morning hymn at the door of their bower. God, to render man inexcusable, sends Raphael to admonish 
 him of his obedience, of his free estate, of his enemy near at hand, who he is, and why his enemy, and whatever else mav 
 avail Adam to know. Raphael comes down to Paradise; his appearance described; his comina; discerned by Adam afar o(* 
 sitting at the door of his bower; he goes out to meet him, brings him to his lodge, entertains him with the choicest fruits < 
 Paradise got together by Eve ; their discourse at table : Raphael performs his messaire, minds Adam of his state and of his enemv , 
 relates, at Adam's request, who that enemy is, and how he came to be so, beginning from the tirst revolt in heaven, and the 
 occasion thereof; how he drew his legions after him to the parts of the north, and there incited them to rebel with him, persuading 
 all but only Abdiel a seraph, who in argument dissuades and opposes him, then forsakes him. 
 
 Now mom, her rosy steps in the eastern clime 
 Advancing, sowed the earth with orient pearl. 
 When Adam waked, so customed ; for his sleep 
 Was aery-light, from pure digestion bred. 
 And temperate vapours bland, which the only sound 
 Of leaves and fuming rills, Aurora's fan. 
 Lightly dispersed, and the shrill matin song 
 Of birds on every bough ; so much the more 
 His wonder was to find unwakened Eve 
 With tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, 
 As through unquiet rest : he, on his side 
 Leaning half-raised, with looks of cordial love 
 Hung over her enamoured, and beheld 
 Beauty, which, whether waking or asleep. 
 Shot forth peculiar graces ; then with voice 
 Mild as when Zephyrus on Flora breathes. 
 Her hand soft touching, whispered thus : ' Awake, 
 My fairest, my espoused, my latest found, 
 Heaven's last best gift, my ever-new delight! 
 Awake : the morning shines, and the fresh field 
 Calls us; we lose the prime to mark how spring 
 Our tender plants, how blows the citron grove. 
 What drops the myrrh, and what the balmy reed, 
 How nature paints her colours, how the bee 
 
 Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweet.' 
 
 Such whispering waked her, but with startled eye 
 On Adam, whom embracing, thus she spake : 
 
 ' sole in whom my thoughts find all repose. 
 My glory, my perfection ! glad I see 
 Thy face, and morn returned ; for I this night 
 (Such night till this I never passed) have dreamed, 
 If dreamed, not, as I oft am wont, of thee, 
 Works of day past, or morrow's next design, 
 But of offence and trouble, which my mind 
 Knew never till this irksome night : Methought 
 Close at mine ear one called me forth to walk 
 With gentle voice ; I thought it thine : it said. 
 Why sleepest thou, Eve ? now is the pleasant time, 
 The cool, the silent, save where silence yields 
 To the night-warbling bird, that now awake 
 Tunes sweetest his love-laboured song ; now reigns 
 Full orbed the moon, and with more pleasing light 
 Shadowy sets off" the face of things; in vain. 
 If none regard ; heaven wakes with all his eyes. 
 Whom to behold but thee, nature's desire .'' 
 In whose sight all things joy, with ravishment 
 Attracted by thy beauty still to gaze. tA ; 
 I rose as at thy call, but found thee not ; 
 
Book V. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 37 
 
 To find thee I directed then my walk ; 
 
 And on, methoug'ht, alone I passed through ways 
 
 That brought me on a sudden to the tree 
 
 Of interdicted knowledge ; fair it seemed, 
 
 Much fairer to my fancy than by day : 
 
 And, as I wondering looked, beside it stood 
 
 One shaped and winged like one of those from heaven 
 
 By us oft seen : his dewy locks distilled 
 
 Ambrosia; on that tree he also gazed ; 
 
 And, O fair plant, said he, with fruit surcharged. 
 
 Deigns none to ease thy load, and taste thy sweet, 
 
 Nor God, nor man ? Is knowledge so despised ? 
 
 Or envy, or what reserve forbids to taste ? 
 
 Forbid who will, none shall from me withhold 
 
 Longer thy offered good ; why else set here ? 
 
 This said, he paused not, but with venturous arm 
 
 He plucked, he tasted ; me damp horror chilled 
 
 At such bold words vouched with a deed so bold: 
 
 But he thus, overjoyed : fruit divine, 
 
 Sweet of thyself, but much more sweet thus cropt, 
 
 Forbidden here, it seems, as only fit 
 
 For gods, yet able to make gods of men : 
 
 And why not gods of men ; since good, the more 
 
 Communicated, more abundant grows. 
 
 The author not impaired, but honoured more? 
 
 Here, happy creature, fair angelic Eve ! 
 
 Partake thou also : happy though thou art, 
 
 Happier thou mayst be, wortliicr canst not be : 
 
 Taste this, and be henceforth among the gods 
 
 Thyself a goddess, not to earth confined, 
 
 But sometimes in the air, as we; sometimes 
 
 Ascend to heaven, by merit thine, and see 
 
 What life the gods live there, and such live thou. '^\ 
 
 So saying, he drew nigh, and to me held. 
 
 Even to ray mouth of that same fruit held part 
 
 Which he had plucked : the pleasant savoury smell 
 
 So quickened appetite, that I, methought. 
 
 Could not but taste. Forthwith up to the clouds 
 
 With him I flew, and underneath beheld 
 
 The earth outstretched immense, a prospect wide 
 
 And various : wondering at my flight and change 
 
 To this high exaltation ; suddenly 
 
 My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down, 
 
 And fell asleep ; but O, how glad I waked 
 
 To find this but a dream.' Thus Eve her night 
 
 Related, and thus Adam answered sad : 
 
 * Best image of myself, and dearer half, 
 The trouble of tliy thoughts this night in sleep 
 Afftcts me equally ; nor can I like 
 This uncouth dream, of evil sprung, I fear ; 
 Yet evil whence "^ in thee can harbour none, 
 Created pure. But know, that in the soul 
 Are many lesser faculties, that serve 
 Reason as chief: among these, fancy next 
 Her office holds ; of all external things. 
 Which the five watchful senses represent, 
 She forms imaginations, aery shapes. 
 Which reason joining, or disjoining, frames 
 All what we affirm or what deny, and call 
 Our knowledge or opinion ; then retires 
 Into her private cell. When Nature rests. 
 
 O 
 
 Oft in her absence mimic Fancy wakes 
 
 To imitate her; but misjoining shapes. 
 
 Wild work produces oft, and most in dreams ; 
 
 Ill-matching words and deeds long past or late. X *- 
 
 Some such resemblances, methinks, I find 
 
 Of our last evening's talk, in this thy dream, 
 
 But with addition strange ; yet be not sad. 
 
 Evil into the mind of God or man 
 
 May come and go, so unapproved, and leave 
 
 No spot or blame behind : whicli gives me hope 
 
 That what in sleep thou didst abhor to dream, 
 
 Waking thou never wilt consent to do. 
 
 Be not disheartened then, nor cloud those looks. 
 
 That wont to be more cheerful and serene. 
 
 Than when fair morning first smiles on the world ; 
 
 And let us to our fresh employments rise 
 
 Among the groves, the fountains, and the flowers 
 
 That open now their choicest bosomed smells. 
 
 Reserved from night, and kept for tliee in stored   
 
 So cheered he his fair spouse, and she was cheered; 
 But silently a gentle tear let fall 
 From either eye, and wiped them with her hair; 
 Two other precious drops that ready stood, 
 Each in their crystal sluice, he ere they fell 
 Kissed, as the gi'acious signs of sweet remorse 
 And pious awe, that feared to have oflTended. 
 
 So all was cleared, and to the field they haste. 
 But first from under shady arborous roof 
 Soon as they forth were come to open sight 
 Of day-spring, and the sun, who, scarce up-risen, 
 With wheels yet hovering o'er the ocean-brim. 
 Shot parallel to the earth his dewy ray, 
 Discovering in wide landscape all the east 
 Of Paradise and Eden's happy plains. 
 Lowly they bowed adoring, and began 
 Their orisons, each morning duly paid 
 In various style ; for neither various style 
 Nor holy rapture wanted they to praise 
 Their Maker, in fit strains pronounced, or sung 
 L^nmeditated ; such prompt eloquence 
 Flowed from their lips, in prose or numerous verse ; 
 More tuneable than needed lute or harp 
 To add more sweetness ; and they thus began : 
 
 ' These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, 
 Almighty ! Thine this universal frame. 
 Thus wondrous fair: Thyself how wondrous then, 
 Unspeakable ! who sittest above these heavens 
 To us invisible, or dimly seen 
 In these thy lowest works ; yet these declare 
 Thy goodness beyond thought, and power divine, -''p 
 Speak, ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, 
 Angels ; for ye behold him, and with songs 
 And choral symphonies, day without night. 
 Circle his throne rejoicing; ye in heaven, 
 On earth join all ye creatures to extol 
 Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. 
 Fairest of stars, last in the train of night. 
 If better thou belong not to the dawn. 
 Sure pledge of day, that crownest the smiling morn 
 With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere, 
 While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. 
 
 M 
 
38 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book V. 
 
 Thou sun, of tliis great world both eye and soul, 
 
 Acknowledge him thy greater ; sound his praise 
 
 In thy eternal course, both when thou clinibest, 
 
 And when high noon hast gained, and when thou Tallest. 
 
 Moon, that now meetest the orient sun, now flyest. 
 
 With the fixed stars, fixed in their orb that flies; 
 
 And ye five other wandering fires, that move 
 
 In mystic dance not without song, resound 
 
 His j)raise, who out of darkness called up light.^ 
 
 Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth 
 
 Of Nature's womb, that in quaternion run 
 
 Perpetual circle, multiform ; and mix 
 
 And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change 
 
 Vary to our great Maker still new praise. 
 
 Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise 
 
 From hill or steaming lake, dusky or gray. 
 
 Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, 
 
 In honour to the world's great Author rise ; 
 
 Whether to deck with clouds the uncoloured sky, 
 
 Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, 
 
 Rising or falling, still advance his praise. 
 
 His praise, ye winds that from four quarters blow. 
 
 Breathe soft or loud ; and wave your tops, ye pines, 
 
 With every plant, in sign of worship wave. 
 
 Fountains, and 3'e that warble, as ye flow, 
 
 Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. 
 
 Join voices, all ye living souls ; ye birds. 
 
 That singing up to heaven-gate ascend, 
 
 Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise. 
 
 Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk 
 
 The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep ; 
 
 Witness if I be silent, morn or even, 
 
 To hill or valley, fountain or fresh shade, 
 
 Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise. 
 
 Hail, universal Lord, be bounteous still 
 
 To give us only good ; and if the night 
 
 Have gathered aught of evil or concealed, 
 
 Disperse it, as now light dispels the dark.' 
 
 So prayed they innocent, and to their thoughts 
 Firm peace recovered soon, and wonted calm. 
 On to their morning's rural work they haste. 
 Among sweet dews and flowers ) where any row 
 Of fruit-trees over-woody reached too far 
 Their pampered boughs, and needed hands to check 
 Fruitless embraces : or they led the vine 
 To wed her elm ; she, spoused, about him twines 
 Her marriageable arms, and with her brings 
 Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn 
 His barren leaves. Them thus employed beheld 
 With pity heaven's high King, and to him called 
 Raphael, the sociable spirit, that deigned 
 To travel with Tobias, and secured 
 His marriage with the seven-times-wedded maid^^ 
 
 * Raphael,' said he, ' thou bearest what stir on earth 
 Satan, from hell 'scaped through the darksome gulf. 
 Hath raised in Paradise ; and how disturbed 
 This night the human pair ; bow he designs 
 In them at once to ruin all mankind. 
 Go therefore, half this day as friend with friend 
 Converse with Adam, in what bower or shade 
 Tbou findest him from the heat of noon retired, 
 
 To respite his day-labour with repast, 
 Or with repose ; and such discourse bring on, 
 As may advise him of his happy state, 
 Happiness in his power left free to will, 
 Left to his own free will, his will though free 
 Yet mutable : whence warn him to beware 
 He swerve not, too secure : tell him withal 
 His danger, and from whom ; what enemy. 
 Late fallen himself from heaven, is plotting now 
 The fall of others from like state of bliss; 
 By violence ? no, for that shall be withstood ; 
 But by deceit and lies : this let him know, 
 Lest, wilfully transgressing, he pretend 
 Surprisal, unadmonished, unforewarned.' 
 
 So spake the Eternal Father, and fulfilled 
 All justice: n<yr delayed the winged saint 
 After his charge received ; but from among 
 Thousand celestial ardours, where he stood 
 Veiled with his gorgeous wings, up-springing light 
 Flew through the midst of heaven ; the angelic quires, 
 On each hand parting, to his speed gave way 
 Through all the empyreal road : till, at the gate 
 Of heaven arrived, the gate self-opened wide 
 On golden hinges turning, as by work 
 Divine the sovran Architect had framed. 
 From hence no cloud, or, to obstruct his sight, 
 Star interposed, however small, he sees, 
 Not unconform to other shining globes. 
 Earth, and the garden of God, with cedars crowned 
 Above all hills. As when by night the glass 
 Of Galileo, less assured, observes 
 Imagined lands and regions in the moon : 
 Or pilot, from amidst the Cyclades 
 Delos or Samos first appearing, kens 
 A cloudy spot. Down thither prone in flight 
 He speeds, and tlrrough the vast ethereal sky 
 Sails between worlds and worlds, with steady wing 
 Now on the polar winds, then with quick fan 
 Winnows the buxom air ; till, within soar 
 Of towering eagles, to all the fowls he seems 
 A phoenix, gazed by all, as that sole bird, 
 When, to enshrine his reliques in the sun's 
 Bright temple, to Egyptian Thebes he flies_^ 
 At once on the eastern clifl" of Paradise 
 He lights, and to his proper shape returns 
 A seraph winged : six wings he wore to shade 
 His lineaments divine ; the pair that clad 
 Each shoulder broad, came mantling o'er his breast 
 With regal ornament ; the middle pair 
 Girt like a starry zone his waist, and round 
 Skirted his loins and thighs withdowny gold. 
 And colours dipt in heaven ; the third his feet 
 Shadowed from either heel with feathered mail. 
 Sky-tinctured grain. Like Maia's son he stood. 
 And shook his plumes, that heavenly fragrance filled 
 The circuit wide. Straight knew him all the bands 
 Of angels under watch; and to his state. 
 And to his message high, in honour rise ; 
 For on some message high they guessed him bound. 
 Their glittering tents he passed, and now is come 
 Into the blissful field, through groves of myrrh, 
 
Book V. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 39 
 
 And flowering odours, cassia, nard, and balm ; 
 
 A wilderness of sweets; for Nature here 
 
 Wantoned as in her prime, and played at will 
 
 Her virg-in fancies, pouring forth more sweet, 
 
 Wild above rule or art, enormous bliss. ^ 
 
 Him through the spicy forest onward come 
 
 Adam discerned, as in the door he sat 
 
 Of his cool bower, while now the mounted sun 
 
 Shot down direct his fervid rays to warm 
 
 Earth's inmost womb, more warmth than Adam needs : 
 
 And Eve within, due at her hour prepared 
 
 For dinner savoury fruits, of taste to please 
 
 True appetite, and not disrelish thirst 
 
 Of nectarous draughts between, from milky stream, 
 
 Berry or grape : to whom thus Adam called : 
 
 ' Haste hither. Eve, and worth thy sight behold 
 Eastward among those trees, what glorious shape 
 Comes this way moving; seems another morn 
 Risen on mid-noon ; some great behest from heaven 
 To us perhaps he brings, and will vouchsafe 
 This day to be our guest. But go with speed, 
 And, what thy stores contain, bring forth and pour 
 Abundance, fit to honour and receive 
 Our heavenly stranger ; well we may afford 
 Our givers their own gifts, and large bestow 
 From large bestowed, where nature multiplies 
 Her fertile growth, and by disburdening grows 
 More fruitful, which instructs us not to «p'"-«' \ - 
 
 To whom thus Eve : ' Adam, earth's hallowed mould. 
 Of God inspired ! small store will serve, where store, 
 All seasons, ripe for use hangs on the stalk ; 
 Save what by frugal storing firmness gains 
 To nourish, and superfluous moist consumes: 
 But I will haste, and from each bough and brake. 
 Each plant and juiciest gourd, will pluck such choice 
 To entertain our angel-guest, as he 
 Beholding shall confess, that here on earth 
 God hath dispensed his bounties as in heaven.' 
 
 So saying, with dispatchful looks in haste 
 She turns, on hospitable thoughts intent 
 What choice to choose for delicacy best, 
 What order so contrived as not to mix 
 Tastes not well joined, inelegant, but bring 
 Taste after taste upheld with kindliest change : 
 Bestirs her then, and from each tender stalk 
 Whatever earth, all-bearing mother, yields 
 In India East or West, or middle shore 
 In Pontus or the Punic coast, or where 
 Alcinous reigned, fruit of all kinds, in coat 
 Rough, or smooth rind, or bearded husk, or shell. 
 She gathers, tribute large, and on the board 
 Heaps with unsparing liand ; for drink the grape 
 She crushes, inofiiensive must, and meaths 
 From many a berry, and from sweet kernels pressed 
 She tempers dulcet creams ; nor these to hold 
 Wants her fit vessels pure ; then strows the ground 
 With rose and odours from the shrub unfumed. 
 
 Meanwhile our primitive great sire, to meet 
 His god-like guest, walks forth, without more train 
 Accompanied than with his own complete 
 Perfections; in himself was all his state, 
 
 More solemn than the tedious pomp that waits 
 On princes, when their rich retinue long 
 Of horses led, and grooms besmeared with gold. 
 Dazzles the crowd, and sets them all agape. 
 Nearer his presence Adam, though not awed, 
 Yet with submiss approach and reverence meek, 
 As to a superior nature, bowing low, 
 Thus said : ' Native of heaven, for other place 
 None can than heaven such glorious shape contain ; 
 Since by descending from the thrones above, 
 Those happy places thou hast deigned a while 
 To want, and honour these, vouchsafe with us 
 Two only, who yet by sovran gift possess 
 This spacious ground, in yonder shady bower 
 To rest, and what the garden choicest bears 
 To sit and taste, till this meridian heat 
 Be over, and the sun more cool decline.' I 
 
 Whom thus the angelic Virtue answered mild : 
 ' Adam, I therefore came ; nor art thou such 
 Created, or such place hast here to dwell, 
 As may not oft invite, though spirits of heaven, 
 To visit thee : lead on then where thy bower 
 O'ershades ; for these mid-hours, till evening rise, 
 I have at will.' So to the sylvan lodge 
 They came, that like Pomona's arbour smiled, 
 With flowerets decked, and fragrant smells ; but Eve 
 Undecked save with herself, more lovely fair 
 Than wood-nymph, or the fairest goddess feigned 
 Of three that in mount Ida naked strove, 
 Stood to entertain her guest from heaven ; no veil 
 She needed, virtue proof; no thought infirm 
 Altered her cheek. On whom the angel ' Hail !' 
 Bestowed, the holy salutation used 
 Long after to blest Mary, second Eve : 
 
 ' Hail, mother of mankind, whose fruitful womb 
 Shall fill the world more numerous with thy sons, 
 Than with these various fruits the trees of God 
 Have heaped this table.' Raised of grassy turf 
 Their table was, and mossy seats had round. 
 And on her ample square from side to side 
 All autumn piled, though spring and autumn here 
 Danced hand in hand. A while discourse they hold. 
 No fear lest dinner cool ; when thus began 
 Our author : ' Heavenly stranger, please to taste 
 These bounties, which our Nourisher, from whom 
 All perfect good, unmeasured out, descends, 
 To us for food and for delight hath caused 
 The earth to yield ; unsavoury food perhaps 
 To spiritual natures ; only this I know. 
 That one celestial Father gives to alL^ ^^p 
 
 To whom the angel : ' Therefore what he giVSs 
 (Whose praise be ever sung) to man in part 
 Spiritual, may of purest spirits be found 
 No ingrateful food : and food alike those pure 
 Intelligential substances require, 
 As doth your rational ; and both contain 
 Within them every lower faculty 
 Of sense, whereby they hear, see, smell, touch, taste. 
 Tasting concoct, digest, assimilate, 
 And corporeal to incorporeal turn. 
 For know, whatever was created needs 
 
40 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book V. 
 
 To be sustained and fed : of elements 
 
 The grosser feeds the purer, earth the sea, 
 
 Earth and the sea feed air, the air those fires 
 
 Ethereal, and as lowest first the moon ; 
 
 Whence in her visag-e round those spots, unpurged 
 
 Vapours not yet into her substance turned. 
 
 Nor doth the moon no nourishment exhale 
 
 From her moist continent to higher orbs. 
 
 The sun, that light imparts to all, receives 
 
 From all his alimcntal recompense 
 
 In humid exhalations, and at even 
 
 Sups with the ocean. Though in heaven the trees 
 
 Of life ambrosial fruitage bear, and vines 
 
 Yield nectar; though from off the boughs each mom 
 
 We brush mellifluous dews, and find the ground 
 
 Covered with pearly grain : yet God hath here 
 
 Varied his bounty so with new delights. 
 
 As may compare with heaven ; and to taste 
 
 Think not J shall be nice.' So down they sat, 
 
 And to their viands fell ; nor seemingly 
 
 The angel, nor in mist, the common gloss 
 
 Of theologians ; but with keen dispatch 
 
 Of real hunger, and concoctive heat 
 
 To transubstantiate : what redounds, transpires 
 
 Through spirits with ease ; nor wonder ; if by fire 
 
 Of sooty coal the empiric alchymist 
 
 Can turn, or holds it possible to turn, 
 
 Metals of drossiest ore to perfect gold, 
 
 As from the mine. Meanwhile at table Eve 
 
 Ministered naked, and their flowing cups 
 
 With pleasant liquors crowned ; O innocence 
 
 Deserving Paradise ! if ever, then, 
 
 Then had the sons of God excuse to hare been 
 
 Enamoured at that sight ; but in those hearts 
 
 Love unlibidinous reigned, nor jealousy 
 
 Was understood, the injured lover's hell. 
 
 Thus when with meats and drinks they had sufficed, 
 Not burdened nature, sudden mind arose 
 In Adam, not to let the occasion pass 
 Given him by this great conference, to know 
 Of things above his world, and of their being 
 Who dwell in heaven, whose excellence he saw 
 Transcend his own so far : whose radiant forms. 
 Divine effulgence, whose high power, so far 
 Exceeded human : and his wary speech 
 Thus to the empyreal minister he framed : 
 
 ' Inhabitant with God, now know I well 
 Thy favour, in this honour done to man ; 
 Under whose lowly roof thou hast vouchsafed 
 To enter, and these earthly fruits to taste, 
 Food not of angels, yet accepted so. 
 As that more willingly thou couldst not seem 
 At heaven's high feasts to have fed : yet what com- 
 pare .'' 
 
 To whom the winged hierarch replied : 
 * O Adam, one Almighty is, from whom 
 All things proceed, and up to him return, 
 If not depraved from good, created all 
 Such to perfection, one first matter all. 
 Endued with various forms, various degrees 
 Of substance, and, in things that live, of life ; 
 
 But more refined, more spirituous, and pure. 
 
 As nearer to him placed, or nearer tending 
 
 Each in their several active spheres assigned. 
 
 Till body up to sj)irit work, in bounds 
 
 Proportioned to each kind. So from the root 
 
 Springs lighter the green stalk, from thence the leaves 
 
 More aery, last the bright consummate flower 
 
 Spirits odorous breathes : flowers and their fruit, 
 
 Man's nourishment, by gradual scale sublimed. 
 
 To vital spirits aspire, to animal, 
 
 To intellectual ; give both life and sense, 
 
 Fancy and understanding; whence the soul 
 
 Reason receives, and reason is her being. 
 
 Discursive, or intuitive ; discourse 
 
 Is oftest yours, the latter most is ours, 
 
 Differing but in degree, of kind the same. 
 
 Wonder not then, what God for you saw good 
 
 If I refuse not, but convert, as you, 
 
 To proper substance. Time may come, when men 
 
 With angels may participate, and find 
 
 No inconvenient diet, nor too light fare ; 
 
 And from these corporal nutriments perhaps 
 
 Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit. 
 
 Improved by tract of time, and, winged, ascend 
 
 Ethereal, as we; or may, at choice. 
 
 Here or in heavenly Paradises dwell ; 
 
 If ye be found obedient, and retain 
 
 Unalterably firm his love entire, 
 
 Whose progeny you are. Meanwhile enjoy 
 
 Your fill what happiness this happy state 
 
 Can comprehend, incapable of morej^ 
 
 To whom the patriarch of mankind replied : 
 ' O favourable spirit, propitious guest. 
 Well hast thou taught the way that might direct 
 Our knowledge, and the scale of nature set 
 From center to circumference ; whereon. 
 In contemplation of created things, 
 By steps we may ascend to God. But say, I 
 
 What meant that caution joined, " If ye be found " 
 
 Obedient!*" Can we want obedience then 
 
 To him, or possibly his love desert. 
 
 Who formed us from the dust, and placed us here 
 
 Full to the utmost measure of what bliss 
 
 Human desires can seek or apprehend .•*' 
 To whom the angel : ' Son of heaven and earth, 
 
 Attend : that thou art happy, owe to God ; 
 
 That thou continuest such, owe to thyself. 
 
 That is, to thy obedience ; therein stand. 
 
 This was that caution given thee ; be advised. 
 
 God made thee perfect, not immutable; 
 
 And good he made thee ; but to persevere 
 
 He left it in thy power; ordained thy will 
 
 By nature free, not overruled by fate 
 
 Inextricable, or strict necessity : 
 
 Our voluntary service he requires. 
 
 Not our necessitated ; such with him 
 
 Finds no acceptance, nor can find ; for how 
 
 Can hearts, not free, be tried whether they serve 
 
 Willing or no, who will but what they must 
 
 By destiny, and can no other choose ? 
 
 Myself, and all the angelic host, that stand 
 
Book V. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 41 
 
 In sight of God, enthroned, our happy state 
 Hold, as you yours, while our obedience holds; 
 On other surety none : freely we serve, 
 Because we freely love, as in our will 
 To love or not ; in this we stand or fall: 
 And some are fallen, to disobedience fallen, 
 And so from heaven to deepest hell ; fall 
 From what high state of bliss, into what woe !' 
 
 To whom our great progenitor : • Thy words 
 Attentive, and with more delighted ear, 
 Divine instructor, I have heard, than when 
 Cherubic songs by night from neighbouring hills 
 Aerial music send : nor knew I not 
 To be both will and deed created free ; 
 Yet that we never shall forget to love 
 Our Maker, and obey him whose command 
 Single is yet so just, my constant thoughts 
 Assured me, and still assure : though what thou tellest 
 Hath passed in heaven, some doubt within me move, 
 But more desire to hear, if thou consent, 
 The full relation, which must needs be strange. 
 Worthy of sacred silence to be heard ; 
 And we have yet large day, for scarce the sun 
 Hath finished half his journey, and scarce begins 
 His other half in the great zone of heaven.' 
 
 Thus Adam made request: and Raphael, 
 After short pause assenting, thus began :J^ » 4^-vt> 
 
 ' High matter thou enjoinest me, O prime of men. 
 Sad tiisk and hard : for how shall I relate 
 To human sense the invisible exploits 
 Of warring spirits? how, without remorse, 
 The ruin of so many glorious once 
 And perfect while they stood .'' how last unfold 
 The secrets of another world, perhaps 
 Not lawful to reveal ? yet for thy good 
 This is dispensed ; and what surmounts the reach 
 Of human sense, I shall delineate so, 
 By likening spiritual to corporal forms. 
 As may express them best; though what if earth 
 Be but the shadow of heaven, and things therein 
 Each to other like, more than on earth is thought? 
 
 ' As yet this world was not, and Chaos wild 
 Reigned where these heavens now roll, where earth 
 
 now rests 
 Upon her center poised ; when on a day, 
 (For time, though in eternity, applied 
 To motion, measures all things durable 
 By present, past, and future,) on such day 
 As heaven's great year brings forth, the empyreal host 
 Of angels by imperial summons called, 
 Innumerable before the Almighty's throne 
 Forthwith, from all the ends of heaven, appeared 
 Under their hierarchs in orders bright: 
 Ten thousand thousand ensigns high advanced, 
 Standards and gonfalons 'twixt van and rear 
 Stream in the air, and for distinction serve 
 Of hierarchies, of orders, and degrees; 
 Or in their glittering tissues bear imblazed 
 Holy memorials, acts of zeal and love 
 Recorded eminent. Thus when in orbs 
 Of circuit inexpressible they stood, 
 
 Orb within orb, the Father infinite, 
 By whom in bliss imbosomed sat the Sou, 
 Amidst as from a flaming mount whose top 
 Brightness had made invisible, thus spake : 
 
 " Hear, all ye angels, progeny of light. 
 Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers, 
 Hear my decree, which unrevoked shall stand. 
 This day I have begot whom I declare 
 My only Son, and on this holy hill 
 Him have anointed, whom ye now behold 
 At my right hand ; your head I him appoint; 
 And by myself have sworn, to him shall bow 
 All knees in heaven, and shall confess him Lord: 
 Under his great vicegerent reign abide 
 United, as one individual soul. 
 For ever happy : him who disobeys, 
 Me disobeys, breaks union, and that day. 
 Cast out from God and blessed vision, falls 
 Into utter darkness, deep ingulfed, his place 
 Ordained without redemption, without end." 
 
 ' So spake the Omnipotent, and with his words 
 All seemed well pleased ; all seemed, but were not all. 
 That day, as other solonin days, they s])ent 
 In song and dance about the sacred hill ; 
 Mystical dance, which yonder starry sphere 
 Of planets, and of fixed, in all her wheels 
 Resembles nearest, mazes intricate, 
 Eccentric, intervolved, yet regular 
 Then most, when most irregular they seem ; 
 And in their motions harmony divine 
 So smooths her charming tones, that God's own ear 
 Listens delighted. Evening now approached 
 (For we have also evening and our mom, 
 We ours for change delectable, not need) ; 
 Forthwith from dance to sweet repast they turn 
 Desirous ; all in circles as they stood, 
 Tables are set, and on a sudden piled 
 With angel's food, and rubied nectar flows 
 In pearl, in diamond, and massy gold. 
 Fruit of delicious vines, the growth of heaven. 
 On flowers reposed, and with fresh flowerets"crowned. 
 They eat, they drink ; and in communion sweet 
 Quaff" immortality and joy, secure 
 Of surfeit, where full measure only bounds 
 Excess, before the all-bounteous King, who showered 
 With copious hand, rejoicing in their joy. 
 Now when ambrosial night with clouds exhaled 
 From that high mount of God, whence light and shade 
 Spring both, the face of brightest heaven had changed 
 To grateful twilight, (for night comes not there 
 In darker veil,) and roseat dews disposed 
 All but the unsleeping eyes of God to rest; 
 Wide over all the plain, and wider far 
 Than all this globous earth in plain outspread, 
 (Such are the courts of God,) the angelic throng. 
 Dispersed in bands and files, their camp extend 
 By living streams among the trees of life, 
 Pavilions numberless, and sudden reared, 
 Celestial tabernacles, where they slept 
 Fanned with cool winds ; save those, who, in their 
 course. 
 
42 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book V. 
 
 Melodious hjmns about the sovran throne 
 Alternate all ni^^lit long': but not so waked 
 Satan ; so call him now, his former name 
 Is heard no more in heaven ; he of the first, 
 If not the first archangel, great in power, 
 In favour and pre-eminence, yet fraught 
 With envy against the Son of God, that day 
 Honoured by his great Father, and proclaimed 
 Messiah King anointed, could not bear 
 Through pride that sight, and thought himself im- 
 paired. 
 Deep malice thence conceiving and disdain, 
 Soon as midnight brought on the dusky hour 
 Friendliest to sleep and silence, he resolved 
 With all his legions to dislodge, and leave 
 Unworshipt, unobeyed, the throne supreme, 
 Contemptuous ; and his next subordinate 
 Awakening, thus to him in secret spake : 
 
 " Sleepest thou, companion dear ? What sleep can 
 close 
 Thy eye-lids ? and rememberest what decree 
 Of yesterday, so late hath passed the lips 
 Of heaven's Almighty. Thou to me thy thoughts 
 Wast wont, I mine to thee was wont, to impart ; 
 Both waking we were one ; how then can now 
 Thy sleep dissent ? New laws thou seest imposed ; 
 New laws from him who reigns, new minds may raise 
 In us who serve, new counsels, to debate 
 What doubtful may ensue : more in this place 
 To utter is not safe. Assemble thou, 
 Of all those myriads which we lead, the chief; 
 Tell them, that by command, ere yet dim night 
 Her shadowy cloud withdraws, I am to haste, 
 And all who under nie their banner wave, 
 Homeward, with flying march, where we possess 
 The quarters of the north ; there to prepare 
 Fit entertainment to receive our King, 
 The Great Messiah, and his new commands, 
 Who speedily through all the hierarchies v V''^^ 
 Intends to pass triumphant, and give laws." *^ 
 
 * So spake the false archangel, and infused 
 Bad influence into the unwary breast 
 Of his associate: he together calls, 
 Or several one by one, the regent powers, 
 Under him regent ; tells, as he was taught, 
 That the Most High commanding, now ere night, 
 Now ere dim night had disencumbered heaven. 
 The great hierarchal standard was to move ; 
 Tells the suggested cause, and casts between 
 Ambiguous words and jealousies, to sound 
 Or taint integrity : but all obeyed 
 The wonted signal, and superior voice 
 Of their great potentate ; for great indeed 
 His name, and high was his degree in heaven ; 
 His countenance, as the morning star that guides 
 The starry flock, allured them, and with lies 
 Drew after him the third part of heaven's host 
 Meanwhile the Eternal eye, whose sight discerns 
 Abstrusest thoughts, from forth his holy mount, 
 And from within the golden lamps that burn 
 Nightly before him, saw without their light 
 
 Rebellion rising; saw in whom, how spread 
 Among the sons of morn, what multitudes 
 Were banded to oppose his high decree; 
 And, smiling, to his only Son thus said : 
 
 " Son, thou in whom my glory I behold 
 In full resplendence, heir of all my might. 
 Nearly it now concerns us to be sure 
 Of our omnipotence, and with what arms 
 We mean to hold what anciently we claim 
 Of deity or empire: such a foe 
 Is rising, who intends to erect his throne 
 Equal to ours throughout the spacious north ; 
 Nor so content, hath in his thought to try 
 In battle, what our power is, or our right. 
 Let us advise, and to this hazard draw 
 With speed what force is left, and all employ 
 In our defence ; lest unawares we lose 
 This our high place, our sanctuary, our bill." 
 
 ' To whom the Son with calm aspect and clear, 
 Lightning divine, ineffable, serene. 
 Made answer: " Mighty Father, thou thy foes 
 Justly hast in derision, and, secure, 
 Laughest at their vain designs and tumults vain, 
 Matter to me of glory, whom their hate 
 Illustrates, when they see all regal power 
 Given me to quell their pride, and in event 
 Know whether I be dextrous to subdue 
 Thy rebels, or be found the worst in heaven." 
 
 ' So spake the Son : but Satan with his powers 
 Far was advanced on winged speed; an host 
 Innumerable as the stars of night. 
 Or stars of morning, dew-drops, which the sun 
 Impearls on every leaf and every flower. 
 Regions they passed, the mighty regencies 
 Of seraphim, and potentates, and thrones, 
 In their triple deg'rees ; regions to which 
 All thy dominion, Adam, is no more 
 Than what this garden is to all the earth, 
 And all the sea, from one entire globose 
 Stretched into longitude ; which having passed. 
 At length into the limits of the north 
 They came ; and Satan to iiis royal seat 
 High on a hill, far blazing, as a mount 
 Raised on a mount, with pyramids and towers 
 From diamond quarries hewn, and rocks of gold; 
 The palace of great Lucifer, (so call 
 That structure in the dialect of men 
 Interpreted,) which not long after, he, 
 Affecting all equality with God, 
 In imitation of that mount whereon 
 Messiah was declared in sight of heaven. 
 The Mountain of the Congregation called; 
 For thither he assembled all his train. 
 Pretending, so commanded, to consult 
 About the great reception of their King, 
 Thither to come ; and with calumnious art 
 Of counterfeited truth thus held their cars : 
 
 *' Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers ; 
 If these magnific titles yet remain 
 Not merely titular, since by decree 
 Another now hath to himself engrossed 
 
Book V. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 43 
 
 All power, and us eclipsed under the name 
 Of King anointed, for whom all this haste 
 Of midnig-ht-march, and hurried meeting here, 
 This only to consult ; how we may best. 
 With what may be devised of honours new, 
 Receive him coming to receive from us 
 Knee-tribute yet unpaid, prostration vile ! 
 Too much to one ! but double how endured, 
 To one, and to his image now proclaimed ? 
 But what if better counsels might erect 
 Our minds, and teach us to cast off this yoke <* 
 Will ye submit your necks, and choose to bend 
 The supple knee ? Ye will not, if I trust 
 To know ye right, or if ye know yourselves 
 Natives and sons of heaven possessed before 
 By none; and if not equal all, yet free, 
 Equally free; for orders and degrees 
 Jar not with liberty, but well consist. 
 Who can in reason then, or right, assume 
 Monarchy over such as live by right 
 His equals; if in power and splendour less, 
 In freedom equal ? or can introduce 
 Law and edict on us, who without law 
 Err not ? much less for this to be our Lord, 
 And look for adoration, to the abuse 
 Of those imperial titles, which assert 
 Our being ordained to govern, not to serve." 
 
 * Thus far his bold discourse without control 
 Had audience ; when among ihe seraphim 
 Abdiel, than whom none with more zeal adored 
 The Deity, and divine commands obeyed, 
 Stood up, and in a flame 6f zeal severe 
 The current of his fury thus opposed: 
 
 •' O argument blasphemous, false, and proud ! 
 Words which no ear ever to hear in heaven 
 Expected, least of all from thee, ingrate, 
 In place thyself so high above thy peers. 
 Canst thou with impious obloquy condemn 
 The just decree of God, pronounced and sworn, 
 That to his only Son, by right endued 
 With regal scepter every soul in heaven, 
 Shall bend the knee, and in that honour due 
 Confess him rightful king? Unjust, thou sayest, 
 Flatly unjust, to bind with laws the free, 
 And equal over equals to let reign, 
 One over all with unsucceeded power. ' 
 Shalt thou give law to God ? shalt thou dispute 
 With him the points of liberty, who made 
 Thee what thou art, and formed the powers of heaven 
 Such as he pleased, and circumscribed their being .'' 
 Yet, by experience taught, we know how good, 
 And of our good and of our dignity 
 How provident he is ; how far from thought 
 To make us less, bent rather to exalt 
 Our happy state, under one head more near 
 United. But to grant it thee unjust. 
 That equal over equals monarch reign : 
 Thyself, though great and glorious, dost tiiou count. 
 Or all angelic nature joined in one, 
 Equal to him, begotten Son ? by whom, 
 As by his word, the Mighty Father made 
 
 All things, even thee ; and all the spirits of heaven 
 By him created in their bright degrees. 
 Crowned them with glory, and to their glory named 
 Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers. 
 Essential powers; nor by his reign obscured. 
 But more illustrious made; since he the head, 
 One of our number thus reduced becomes; 
 His laws our laws; all honour to him done 
 Returns our own. Cease then this impious rage. 
 And tempt not these : but hasten to appease 
 The incensed Father and the incensed Son, 
 While pardon may be found in time besought." 
 
 ' So spake the fervent angel ; but his zeal 
 None seconded, as out of season judged. 
 Or singular and rash : whereat rejoiced 
 The apostate, and, more haughty, thus replied : 
 
 " That we were formed then, sayest thou.'' and the 
 work 
 Of secondary hands, by task transferred 
 From Father to his Son ? strange point and new ! 
 Doctrine which we would know whence learned : who 
 
 saw 
 When this creation was ? rememberest thou 
 Thy making, while the Maker gave thee being? 
 We know no time when we were not as now ; 
 Know none before us, self-begot, self- raised 
 By our own quickening power, when fatal course 
 Had circled his full orb, the birth mature 
 Of this our native heaven, ethereal sons. 
 Our puissance is our own : our own right hand 
 Shall teach us highest deeds, by proof to try 
 Who is our equal : then thou shalt behold 
 Whether by supplication we intend 
 Address, and to begirt the almighty throne 
 Beseeching or besieging. This report. 
 These tidings carry to the anointed King; 
 And fly, ere evil intercept thy flight." 
 
 ' He said ; and, as the sound of waters deep, 
 Hoarse murmur echoed to his words applause 
 Through the infinite host : nor less for that 
 The flaming seraph fearless, though alone 
 Encompassed round with foes, thus answered bold : 
 
 " O alienate from God, O spirit accursed, 
 Forsaken of all good ! I see thy fall 
 Determined, and thy hapless crew involved 
 In this perfidious fraud, contagion spread 
 Both of thy crime and punishment : henceforth 
 No more be troubled how to quit the yoke 
 Of God's Messiah ; those indulgent laws 
 Will not be now vouchsafed ; other decrees 
 Against thee are gone forth without recall : 
 That golden scepter, which thou didst reject, 
 Is now an iron rod to bruise and break 
 Thy disobedience. Well thou didst advise : 
 Yet not for thy advice or threats I fly 
 These wicked tents devoted, lest the wrath 
 Impendent, raging into sudden flame. 
 Distinguish not : for soon expect to feel 
 His thunder on thy head, devouring fire. 
 Then who created thee lamenting learn. 
 When who can uncreate thee thou shalt know." 
 
44 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book VI. 
 
 ' So spake the seraph Abdiel, faithful found 
 Among the faithless, faithful only he; 
 Among innumerable false, unmoved, 
 Unshaken, unseduced, unterrified, ^ 
 His loyalty he kept, his lore, his zeal ; 
 Nor number, nor example, with him wrought 
 
 To swerve from truth, or change his constant mind. 
 
 Though single. From amidst them forth he passed, 
 
 Long way through hostile scorn, which he sustained 
 
 Superior, nor of violence feared auglit ; 
 
 And, with retorted scorn, his back he turned 
 
 On those proud towers to swift destruction doomed. 
 
 BOOK VI. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Raphael continues to relate how Michael and Gabriel were sent forth to battle against Satan and his angels. The first fight described ; 
 Satan and his powers retire under night : he calls a council ; invents devilish engines, which, in the second day's fight, put Michael 
 and his angels to some disorder; but they at length nulling up mountains, overwhelm both the force and machines of Satan: yet 
 the tumult not so ending, God, on the third day, sends Messiah his Son, for whom he had reserved the glory of that victory : he, in 
 the power of his Father, coming to the place, and causing all his leerions to stand still on either side, with his chariot and thunder 
 driving into the midst of his enemies, pursues them, unable to resist, towards the wall of heaven ; which opening, they leap down with 
 horror and confusion into the place of punishment prepared for them in the deep : Messiah returns with triumph to his Father. 
 
 ' All night the dreadless angel, unpursued, 
 Through heaven's wide champain held his way ; till 
 
 Morn, 
 Waked by the circling Hours, with rosy hand 
 Unbarred the gates of light. There is a cave 
 Within the mount of God, fast by his throne, 
 Where light and darkness in perpetual round 
 Lodge and dislodge by turns, which makes through 
 
 heaven 
 Grateful vicissitude, like day and night ; 
 Light issues forth, and at the other door 
 Obsequious darkness enters, till her hour 
 To veil the heaven, though darkness there might well 
 Seem twilight here : and now went forth the mom, 
 Such as in highest heaven, arrayed in gold 
 Empyreal ; from before her vanished night, 
 Shot through with orient beams ; when all the plain 
 Covered with thick embattled squadrons bright, 
 Chariots, and flaming arms, and fiery steeds,^ 
 Reflecting blaze on blaze, first met his view : 
 War he perceived, war in procinct; and found 
 Already known what he for news had thought 
 To have reported : gladly then he mixed 
 Among those friendly powers, who him received 
 With joy and acclamations loud, that one, 
 That of so many myriads fallen yet one 
 Returned not lost. On to the sacred hill 
 They led him high applauded, and present 
 Before the seat supreme ; from whence a voice, 
 PVom midst a golden cloud, thus mild was heard : 
 
 " Servant of God, well done ; well hast thou fought 
 The better fight, who single hast maintained 
 Against revolted multitudes the cause 
 Of truth, in word mightier than they in arms; 
 And for the testimony of truth hast borne 
 Universal reproach, far worse to bear 
 Than violence ; for this w as all thy care, 
 
 To stand approved in sight of God, though worlds 
 Judged thee perverse : the easier conquest now 
 Remains thee : aided by this host of friends, 
 Back on thy foes more glorious to return. 
 Than scorned thou didst depart; and to subdue 
 By force, who reason for their law refuse ; 
 Right reason for their law, and for their king 
 Messiah, who by right of merit reigns. 
 Go, Michael, of celestial armies prince : 
 And thou in military prowess next, 
 Gabriel, lead forth to battle these my sons 
 Invincible ; lead forth my armed saints, 
 By thousands and by millions, ranged for fight, 
 Equal in number to that godless crew 
 Rebellious : them with fire and hostile arms 
 Fearless assault; and to the brow of heaven 
 Pursuing, drive them out from God and bliss. 
 Into their place of punishment, the gulf 
 Of Tartarus, which ready opens wide 
 His fiery chaos to receive their fall." 
 * So spake the Sovran Voice, and clouds began 
 To darken all the hill, and smoke to roll 
 In dusky wreaths, reluctant flames, the sign 
 Of wrath awaked ; nor with less dread the loud 
 Ethereal trumpet from on high 'gan blow ; 
 At which command the powers militant 
 That stood for heaven, in mighty quadrate joined 
 Of union irresistible, moved on 
 In silence their bright legions, to the sound 
 Of instrumental harmony, that breathed 
 Heroic ardour to adventurous deeds 
 Under their god-like leaders, in the cause 
 Of God and his Messiah. On they move 
 Indissolubly firm ; nor obvious hill. 
 Nor straitening vale, nor wood, nor stream, divides 
 Their perfect ranks; for high above the ground 
 Their march was, and the passive air upbore 
 
Book VI. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 46 
 
 Their nimble tread. As when the total kind 
 Of birds, in orderly array on wing-, 
 Came summoned over Eden to receive 
 Their names of thee; so over many a tract 
 Of heaven they marched, and many a province wide. 
 Tenfold the length of this terrene: at last, 
 Far in the horizon to the north appeared 
 From skirt to skirt a fiery region, stretched 
 In battailous aspect, and nearer view- 
 Bristled with uprig-ht beams innumerable 
 Of rigid spears, and helmets thronged, and shields 
 Various, with boastful argument portrayed, 
 The banded powers of Satan hasting- on 
 With furious expedition ; for they weened 
 That self-same day, by fight, or by surprise. 
 To win the mount of God, and on his throne 
 To set the envier of his state, the proud 
 Aspirer; but their thoughts proved fond and vain 
 In the mid way : though strange to us it seemed 
 At first, that angel should with angel war, 
 And in fierce hosting meet, who wont to meet 
 So oft in festivals of joy and love 
 Unanimous, as sons of one great Sire, 
 Hymning the Eternal Father. But the shout 
 Of battle now began, and rushing sound 
 Of onset ended soon each milder thought. 
 High in the midst, exalted as a god. 
 The apostate in his sun-bright chariot sat, 
 Idol of majesty divine, enclosf^d 
 With flaming cherubim, and golden shields ; 
 Then lighted from his gorgeous throne, for now 
 'Twixt host and host but narrow space was left, 
 A dreadful interval, and front to front 
 Presented stood in terrible array 
 Of hideous length : before the cloudy van, 
 On the rough edge of battle ere it joined, 
 Satan, with vast and haughty strides advanced. 
 Came towering, armed in adamant and gold ; 
 Abdiel that sight endured not, where he stood 
 Among the mightiest, bent on highest deeds, 
 And thus his own undaunted heart explores : 
 
 *• O heaven ! that such resemblance of the Highest 
 Should yet remain, where faith and realty 
 Remain not ! wherefore should not strength and might 
 There fail where virtue fails, or weakest prove 
 Where boldest, though to sight unconquerable ? 
 His puissance, trusting in the Almighty's aid, 
 I mean to try, whose reason I have tried 
 Unsound and false ; nor is it aught but just 
 That he, who in debate of truth hath won. 
 Should win in arms, in both disputes alike 
 Victor; though brutish that contest and foul, 
 When reason hath to deal with force, yet so 
 Most reason is that reason overcome." 
 
 ' So pondering, and from his armed peers 
 Forth ste^jping opposite, half-way he met 
 His daring foe, at this prevention more 
 Incensed, and thus securely him defied: 
 
 " Proud, art thou met ? thy hope was to have reached 
 The highth of thy aspiring unopposed, 
 The throne of God unguarded, and his side 
 
 Abandoned, at the terror of thy power 
 
 Or potent tongue : fool ! not to think how vain 
 
 Against the Omnipotent to rise in arms ; 
 
 Who out of smallest things could, without end. 
 
 Have raised incessant armies to defeat 
 
 Thy folly ; or with solitary hand 
 
 Reaching beyond all limit, at one blow. 
 
 Unaided, could have finished thee, and whelmed 
 
 Thy legions under darkness : but thou seest 
 
 All are not of thy train ; there be, who faith 
 
 Prefer, and piety to God, though then 
 
 To thee not visible, when I alone 
 
 Seemed in thy world erroneous to dissent 
 
 From all : my sect thou seest ; now learn too late 
 
 How few sometimes may know, when thousands err." 
 
 ' Whom the grand foe, with scornful eye askance, 
 Thus answered : " 111 for thee, but in wished hour 
 Of my revenge, first sought for, thou returnest 
 From flight, seditious angel ! to receive 
 Thy merited reward, the first assay 
 Of this right hand provoked, since first that tongue. 
 Inspired with contradiction, durst oppose 
 A third part of the gods, in synod met 
 Their deities to assert; who, while they feel 
 Vigour divine within them, can allow 
 Omnipotence to none. But well thou comest 
 Before thy fellows, ambitious to win 
 From me some plume, that thy success may show 
 Destruction to the rest ; this pause between, 
 (Unanswered lest thou boast,) to let thee know. 
 At first I thought that liberty and heaven 
 To heavenly souls had been all one ; but now 
 I see that most through sloth had rather serve. 
 Ministering spirits, trained up in feast and song ! 
 Such hast thou armed, the minstrelsy cf heaven, 
 Servility with freedom to contend. 
 As both their deeds compared this day shall prove." 
 
 ' To whom in brief thus Abdiel stern replied : 
 " Apostate ! still thou errest, nor end wilt find 
 Of erring, from the path of truth remote : 
 Unjustly thou depravest it with the name 
 Of servitude, to serve whom God ordains. 
 Or nature : God and nature bid the same, 
 When he who rules is worthiest, and excels 
 Them whom he governs. This is servitude : 
 To serve the unwise, or him who hath rebelled 
 Against his worthier, as thine now serve thee. 
 Thyself not free, but to thyself enthralled ; 
 Yet lewdly darest our ministering upbraid. 
 Reign thou in bell, thy kingdom ; let me serve 
 In heaven God ever-blest, and his divine 
 Behests obey, worthiest to be obeyed ; 
 Yet chains in hell, not realms, expect : meanwhile 
 From me returned, as erst thou saidst, from flight. 
 This greeting on thy impious crest receive." 
 
 ' So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high. 
 Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell 
 On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight, 
 Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield. 
 Such ruin intercept : ten paces huge 
 He back recoiled : the tenth on bended knee 
 
46 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book VI. 
 
 His massy spear upstaid ; as if on earth 
 
 Winds under ground, or waters, forcing' way 
 
 Sidelong bad pushed a mountain from his seat, 
 
 Half-sunk with all his pines. Amazement seized 
 
 The rebel thrones, but greater rage, to see 
 
 Thus foiled their mightiest; ours joy filled, and shout. 
 
 Presage of victory, and fierce desire 
 
 Of battle : whereat Michael bid sound 
 
 The archangel trumpet ; through the vast of heaven 
 
 It sounded, and the faithful armies rung 
 
 Hosanna to the Highest : nor stood at gaze 
 
 The adverse legions, nor less hideous joined 
 
 The horrid shock. Now storming fury rose, 
 
 And clamour, such as heard in heaven till now 
 
 Was never; arms on armour clashing brayed 
 
 Horrible discord, and the madding wheels 
 
 Of brazen chariots raged ; dire was the noise 
 
 Of conflict; over head the dismal hiss 
 
 Of fiery darts in flaming volleys flew. 
 
 And flying vaulted either host with fire. 
 
 So under fiery cope together rushed 
 
 Both battles main, with ruinous assault 
 
 And inextinguishable rage. All heaven 
 
 Resounded ; and had earth been then, all earth 
 
 Had to her center shook. What wonder .-• when 
 
 Millions of fierce encountering angels fought 
 
 On either side, the least of whom could wield 
 
 These elements, and arm him with the force 
 
 Of all their regions: how much more of power 
 
 Army against army, numberless to raise 
 
 Dreadful combustion warring, and disturb, 
 
 Though not destroy, their happy native seat ; 
 
 Had not the Eternal King Omnipotent, 
 
 From his strong hold of heaven, high overruled 
 
 And limited their might; though numbered such 
 
 As each divided legion might have seemed 
 
 A numerous host ; in strength each armed band 
 
 A legion ; led in fight, yet leader, seemed 
 
 Each warrior single as in chief, expert 
 
 When to advance, or stand, or turn the sway 
 
 Of battle, open when, and when to close 
 
 The ridges of grim war : no thought of flight, 
 
 None of retreat, no unbecoming deed 
 
 That argued fear; each on himself relied, 
 
 As only in his arm the moment lay 
 
 Of victory. Deeds of eternal fame 
 
 Were done, but infinite; for wide was spread 
 
 That war, and various : sometimes on firm ground 
 
 A standing fight, then, soaring on main wing, 
 
 Tormented all the air ; all air seemed then 
 
 Conflicting fire. Long time in even scale 
 
 The battle hung ; till Satan, who that day 
 
 Prodigious power had shown, and met in arms 
 
 No equal, ranging through the dire attack 
 
 Of fighting seraphim confused, at length 
 
 Saw where the sword of Michael smote, and felled 
 
 Squadrons at once; with huge two-handed sway 
 
 Brandished aloft, the horrid edge came down 
 
 Wide-wasting ; such destruction to withstand 
 
 He hasted, and opposed the rocky orb 
 
 Of tenfold adamant, his ample shield, 
 
 A vast circumference. At his approach. 
 The great archangel from his warlike toil 
 Surceased, and glad, as hoping here to end 
 Intestine war in heaven, the arch-foe subdued. 
 Or captive dragged in chains ; with hostile frown 
 And visage all inflamed first thus began : 
 
 " Author of evil, unknown till thy revolt. 
 Unnamed in heaven, now plenteous, as thou seest. 
 These acts of hateful strife, hateful to all, I 
 
 Though heaviest by just measure on thyself 
 And thy adherents : how hast thou disturbed 
 Heaven's blessed peace, and into nature brought 
 Misery, uncreated till the crime 
 Of thy rebellion ! how hast thou instilled 
 Thy malice into thousands, once upright 
 And faithful, now proved false! But think not here 
 To trouble holy rest ; heaven casts thee out 
 From all her confines. Heaven, the seat of bliss, 
 Brooks not the works of violence and war. 
 Hence then, and evil go with thee along, 
 Thy offspring, to the place of evil, hell ; 
 Thou and thy wicked crew ! there mingle broils, 
 Ere this avenging sword begin thy doom ; 
 Or some more sudden vengeance, winged from God, 
 Precipitate thee with augmented pain.'' 
 
 ' So spake the prince of angels ; to whom thus 
 The adversary : " Nor think thou with wind 
 Of aery threats to awe whom yet with deeds 
 Thou canst not. Hast thou turned the least of these 
 To flight, or if to fall, but that they rise 
 Unvanquished ; easier to transact with me 
 That thou shouldst hope, imperious, and with threats 
 To chase me hence ? err not, that so shall end 
 The strife which thou callest evil, but we style 
 The strife of glory ; which we mean to win, 
 Or turn this heaven itself into the hell 
 Thou fablest ; here, however, to dwell free, 
 If not to reign : meanwhile thy utmost force, 
 And join him named Almighty to thy aid, 
 I fly not, but have sought thee far and nigh." 
 
 ' They ended parle, and both addressed for fight 
 Unspeakable; for who, though with the tongue 
 Of angels, can relate, or to what things 
 Liken on earth conspicuous, that may lift 
 Human imagination to such highth 
 Of godlike power? for likest gods they seemed, 
 Stood they or moved, in stature, motion, arms. 
 Fit to decide the empire of great heaven. 
 Now waved their fiery swords, and in the air 
 Made horrid circles ; two broad suns their shields 
 Blazed opposite, while expectation stood 
 In horror: from each hand with speed retired. 
 Where erst was thickest fight, the angelic throng. 
 And left large field, unsafe within the wind 
 Of such commotion ; such as, to set forth 
 Great things by small, if, nature's concord broke. 
 Among the constellations war were sprung, 
 Two planets rushing from aspect malign 
 Of fiercest opposition, in mid sky 
 Should combat, and their jarring spheres confound. 
 Together both with next to almiglity arm 
 
Book VI. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 47 
 
 Uplifted immineut, one stroke they aimed 
 
 That might determine, and not need repeat, 
 
 As not of power at once ; nor odds appeared 
 
 In might or swift prevention : but the sword 
 
 Of Michael from the armoury of God 
 
 Was given him tempered so, that neither keen 
 
 Nor solid might resist that edge: it met 
 
 The sword of Satan, with steep force to smite 
 
 Descending, and in half cut sheer; nor staid, 
 
 But with swift wheel reverse, deep entering, shared 
 
 All his right side: then Satan first knew pain, 
 
 And writhed him to and fro convolved ; so sore 
 
 The griding sword with discontinuous wound 
 
 Passed through him : but the ethereal substance closed. 
 
 Not long divisible ; and from the gash 
 
 A stream of nectarous humour issuing flowed 
 
 Sanguine, such as celestial spirits may bleed. 
 
 And all his armour stained, erewhile so bright. 
 
 Forthwith on all sides to his aid was run 
 
 By angels many and strong, who interposed 
 
 Defence, while others bore him on their shields 
 
 Back to his chariot, where it stood retired 
 
 From off the files of war : there they him laid 
 
 Gnashing for anguish, and despite, and shame, 
 
 To find himself not matchless, and his pride 
 
 Humbled by such rebuke, so far beneath 
 
 His confidence to equal God in power. 
 
 Yet soon he healed; for spirits that live throughout 
 
 Vital in every part, not as frail man 
 
 In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, 
 
 Cannot but by annihilating die ; 
 
 Nor in their liquid texture mortal wound 
 
 Receive, no more than can the fluid air: 
 
 All heart they live, all head, all eye, all ear, 
 
 All intellect, all sense ; and, as they please. 
 
 They limb themselves, and colour, shape, or size, 
 
 Assume, as likes them best, condense or rare. 
 
 ' Meanwhile in other parts like deeds deserved 
 Memorial, where the might of Gabriel fought. 
 And with fierce ensigns pierced the deep array 
 Of Moloch, furious king; who him defied. 
 And at his chariot-wheels to drag him bound. 
 Threatened, nor from the Holy One of heaven 
 Refrained his tongue blasphemous ; but anon 
 Down cloven to the waist, with shattered arms 
 And uncouth pain fled bellowing. On each wing 
 Uriel and Raphael, his vaunting foe. 
 Though huge, and in a rock of diamond armed. 
 Vanquished Adramelech and Asmadai, 
 Two potent thrones, that to be less than gods 
 Disdained, but meaner thoughts learned in their flight. 
 Mangled with ghastly wounds through plate and mail. 
 Nor stood unmindful Abdiel to annoy 
 The atheist crew, but with redoubled blow 
 Ariel, and Arioch, and the violence 
 Of Ramiel scorched and blasted, overthrew. 
 I might relate of thousands, and their names 
 Eternize here on earth; but those elect 
 Angels, contented with their fame in heaven, 
 Seek not the praise of men : the other sort. 
 In might though wondrous and in acts of war. 
 
 Nor of renown less eager, yet by doom 
 Cancelled from heaven and sacred memory, 
 Nameless in dark oblivion let them dwell. 
 For strength from truth divided, and from just, 
 Illaudable, nought merits but dispraise 
 And ignominy ; yet to glory aspires 
 Vain-glorious, and through infamy seeks fame : 
 Therefore eternal silence be their doom. 
 
 ' And now, their mightiest quelled, the battle 
 swerved. 
 With many an inroad gored ; deformed rout 
 Entered, and foul disorder; all the ground 
 With shivered armour strown, and on a heap 
 Chariot and charioteer lay overturned, 
 And fiery-foaming steeds; what stood, recoiled 
 O'er-wearied, through the faint Satanic host 
 Defensive scarce, or with pale fear surprised. 
 Then first with fear surprised, and sense of pain, 
 Fled ignominious, to such evil brought 
 By sin of disobedience: till that hour 
 Not liable to fear, or flight, or pain. 
 Far otherwise the inviolable saints. 
 In cubic phalanx firm, advanced entire. 
 Invulnerable, impenetrably armed ; 
 Such high advantages their innocence 
 Gave them above their foes; not to have sinned, 
 Not to have disobeyed ; in fight they stood 
 Unwearied, unobnoxious to be pained 
 By wound, though from their place by violence moved. 
 
 * Now night her course began, and over heaven 
 Inducing darkness, grateful truce imposed. 
 And silence on the odious din of war : 
 Under her cloudy covert both retired, 
 Victor and vanquished : on the foughten field 
 Michael and his angels prevalent 
 Encamping, placed in guard their watches round, 
 Cherubic waving fires : on the other part, 
 Satan with his rebellious disappeared. 
 Far in the dark dislodged ; and, void of rest, 
 His potentates to council called by night; 
 And in the midst thus undismayed began: 
 
 " O now in danger tried, now known in arms 
 Not to be overpowered, companions dear. 
 Found worthy not of liberty alone. 
 Too mean pretence ! but what we more affect. 
 Honour, dominion, glory, and renown : 
 Who have sustained one day in doubtful fight 
 (And if one day, why not eternal days ?) 
 What heaven's Lord had powerfullest to send 
 Against us from about bis throne, and judged 
 Sufficient to subdue us to his will, 
 But proves not so : then fallible, it seems. 
 Of future we may deem him, though till now 
 Omniscient thought. True is, less firmly armed, 
 Some disadvantage we endured and pain. 
 Till now not known, but, known, as soon contemned ; 
 Since now we find this our empyreal form 
 Incapable of mortal injury, 
 Imperishable, and though pierced with wound. 
 Soon closing, and by native vigour healed. 
 Of evil then so small, as easy think 
 
48 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book VJ. 
 
 The remedy ; perhaps more valid arms, 
 Weapous more violent, when next we meet, 
 May serve to better us, and worse our foes, 
 Or equal what between us made the odds. 
 In nature none: if other hidden cause 
 Left them superior, w hiie we can preserve 
 Unhurt our minds, and understanding sound, 
 Due search and consultation will disclose." 
 
 ' He sat ; and in the assembly next upstood 
 Nisroch, of principalities the prime ; 
 As one he stood escaped from cruel fight. 
 Sore toiled, his riven arms to havoc hewn, 
 And cloudy in aspect thus answering spake : 
 
 " Deliverer from new lords, leader to free 
 Enjoyment of our right as gods ; yet hard 
 For gods, and too unequal work we find. 
 Against unequal arms to fight in pain, 
 Against unpained, impassive ; from which evil 
 Ruin must needs ensue ; for what avails 
 Valour or strength, though matchless, quelled with pain 
 Which all subdues, and makes remiss the hands 
 Of mightiest .'' Sense of pleasure we may well 
 Spare out of life perhaps, and not repine. 
 But live content, which is the calmest life : 
 But pain is perfect misery, the worst 
 Of evils, and, excessive, overturns 
 All patience. He who therefore can invent 
 With what more forcible we may offend 
 Our yet unwouuded enemies, or arm 
 Ourselves with like defence, to me deserves 
 No less than for deliverance what we owe.' 
 
 ' Whereto with look composed Satan replied : 
 " Not uninvented that, which thou aright 
 Believest so main to our success, I bring. 
 Which of us who beholds the bright surface 
 Of this ethereous mould whereon we stand. 
 This continent of spacious heaven adorned 
 With plant, fruit, flower ambrosial, gems, and gold ; 
 Whose eye so superficially surveys 
 These things, as not to mind from whence they grow 
 Deep under ground, materials dark and crude. 
 Of spiritous and fiery spume, till, touched 
 With heaven's ray, and tempered, they shoot forth 
 So beauteous, opening to the ambient light .'' 
 These in their dark nativity the deep 
 Shall yield us, pregnant with infernal flame; 
 Which, into hollow engines, long and round. 
 Thick-rammed, at the other bore with touch of fire 
 Dilated and infuriate, shall send forth 
 From far, with thundering noise, among our foes 
 Such implements of mischief, as shall dash 
 To pieces, and o'erwhelm, whatever stands 
 Adverse, that they shall fear we have disarmed 
 The Thunderer of his only dreaded bolt. 
 Nor long shall be our labour ; yet ere dawn, 
 EflTect shall end our wish. Meanwhile revive; 
 Abandon fear; to strength and counsel joined 
 Think nothing hard, much less to be despaired." 
 
 * He ended, and his words their drooping cheer 
 Enlightened, and their languished hope revived. 
 The invention all admired, and each, how he 
 
 To be the inventor missed ; so easy it seemed 
 
 Once found, which yet unfound most would have 
 
 thought 
 Impossible: yet, haply, of thy race 
 In future days, if malice should abound. 
 Some one intent on mischief, or inspired 
 With devilish machination, might devise 
 Like instrument to plague the sons of men 
 For sin, on war and mutual slaughter bent. 
 Forthwith from council to the work they flew ; 
 None arguing stood ; innumerable hands 
 Were ready; in a moment up they turned 
 Wide the celestial soil, and saw beneath 
 The originals of nature in their crude 
 Conception : sulphurous and nitrous foam 
 They found, they mingled, and, with subtle art 
 Concocted and adusted they reduced 
 To blackest grain, and into store conveyed : 
 Part hidden veins digged up (nor hath this earth 
 Entrails unlike) of mineral and stone. 
 Whereof to found their engines and their balls 
 Of missive ruin ; part incentive reed 
 Provide, pernicious with one touch to fire. 
 So all ere day-spring, under conscious night, 
 Secret they finished, and in order set. 
 With silent circumspection, unespied. 
 
 ' Now when fair morn orient in heaven appeared, 
 Up rose the victor-angels, and to arms 
 The matin trumpet sung : in arms they stood 
 Of golden panoply, refulgent host. 
 Soon banded ; others from the dawning hills 
 Looked round, and scouts each coast light-armed scour, 
 Each quarter, to descry the distant foe, 
 Where lodged, or whither fled, or if for fight. 
 In motion or in halt : him soon they met 
 Under spread ensigns moving nigh, in slow 
 But firm battalion : back with speediest sail 
 Zophiel, of cherubim the swiftest wing. 
 Came flying, and in mid air aloud thus cried : 
 
 " Arm, warriors, arm for fight ; the foe at hand, 
 Whom fled we thought, will save us long pursuit 
 This day ; fear not his flight ; so thick a cloud 
 He comes, and settled in his face I see 
 Sad resolution, and secure : let each 
 His adamantine coat gird well, and each 
 Fit well his helm, gripe fast his orbed shield. 
 Borne even or high ; for this day will pour down. 
 If I conjecture aught, no drizzling shower. 
 But rattling storm of arrows barbed with fire." 
 
 ' So warned he them, aware themselves, and soon 
 In order, quit of all impediment ; 
 Instant without disturb they took alarm. 
 And onward moved embattled : when, behold! 
 Not distant far with heavy pace the foe 
 Approaching gross and huge, in hollow cube 
 Training his devilish enginery, impaled 
 On every side with shadowing squadrons deep. 
 To hide the fraud. At interview both stood 
 A while ; but suddenly at head appeared 
 Satan, and thus was heard commanding loud : 
 
 " Vanguard, to right and left the front unfold ; 
 
Book VI. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 49 
 
 That all may see who hate us, bow we seek 
 Peace and composure, and with open breast 
 Stand ready to receive them, if they like 
 Our overture, and turn not back perverse : 
 But that I doubt ; however, witness heaven, 
 Heaven \a itness thou anon, while we discharge 
 Freely our part: ye, who appointed stand, 
 Do as you have in charge, and briefly touch 
 "What we propound, and loud that all may hear." 
 
 * So scoffing in ambiguous words, he scarce 
 Had ended ; when to right and left the front 
 Divided and to either flank retired : 
 Which to our eyes discovered, new and strange, 
 A triple mounted row of pillars laid 
 On wheels, (for like to pillars most they seemed, 
 Of hollowed bodies made of oak or fir, 
 With branches lopt, in wood or mountain felled,) 
 Brass, iron, stony mould, had not their mouths 
 With hideous orifice gaped on us wide. 
 Portending hollow truce : at each behind 
 A seraph stood, and in his hand a reed 
 Stood waving tipt with fire; while we, suspense, 
 Collected stood within our thoughts amused, 
 Not long ; for sudden all at once their reeds 
 Put forth, and to a narrow vent applied 
 With nicest touch. Immediate in a flame, 
 But soon obscured with smoke, all heaven appeared, 
 From those deep-throated engines belched, whose roar 
 Embowelled with outrageous noise the air. 
 And all her entrails tore, disgorging foul 
 Their devilish glut, chained thunderbolts and hail 
 Of iron globes ; which, on the victor host 
 Levelled, with such impetuous fury smote. 
 That, whom they hit, none on their feet might stand, 
 Though standing else as rocks, but down they fell 
 By thousands, angel or archangel rolled, 
 The sooner for their arms; unarmed, they might 
 Have easily, as spirits, evaded swift 
 By quick contraction on remove; but now 
 Foul dissipation followed, and forced routy 
 Nor served it to relax their serried files. 
 What should they do? if on they rushed, repulse 
 Repeated, and indecent overthrow 
 Doubled, would render them yet more despised, 
 And to their foes a laughter; for in view 
 Stood ranked of seraphim another row. 
 In posture to displode their second tire 
 Of thunder: back defeated to return 
 They worse abhorred. Satan beheld their plight. 
 And to his mates thus in derision called : 
 
 " O friends ! why come not on these victors proud ? 
 Erewhile they fierce were coming ; and when we, 
 To entertain them fair with open front 
 And breast (what could we more ?) propounded terms 
 Of composition, straight they changed their minds. 
 Flew off", and into strange vagaries fell. 
 As they would dance ; yet for a dance they seemed 
 Somewhat extravagant and wild ; perhaps 
 For joy of offered peace : but I suppose. 
 If our proposals occe again were heard. 
 We should compel them to a quick result." 
 
 ' To whom thus Belial, in like gamesome mood : 
 " Leader ! the terms we sent were terms of weight, 
 Of hard contents, and full of force urged home; 
 Such as we might perceive amused them all. 
 And stumbled many : who receives them right, 
 Had need from head to foot well undei-stand ; 
 Not understood, this gift they have besides. 
 They show us when our foes walk not upright." 
 ' So they amongst themselves in pleasant vein 
 Stood scoffing, heightened in their thoughts beyond 
 All doubt of victory : Eternal Might 
 To match with their inventions they presumed 
 So easy, and of his thunder made a scorn, 
 And all his host derided, while they stood 
 A while in trouble : but they stood not long; 
 Rage prompted them at length, and found them 
 
 arms 
 Against such hellish mischief fit to oppose. 
 Forthwith (behold the excellence, the power 
 Which God hath in his mighty angels placed !) 
 Their arms away they threw, and to tiie hills 
 (For earth hath this variety from heaven. 
 Of pleasure situate in hill and dale,) 
 Light as the lightning glimpse they ran, they flew ; 
 From their foundations loosening to and fro, 
 They plucked the seated hills, with all their load. 
 Rocks, waters, woods, and by the shaggy tops 
 Uplifting bore them in their hands : amaze. 
 Be sure, and terror, seized the rebel host. 
 When coming towards them so dread they saw 
 The bottom of the mountains upward turned ; 
 Till on those cursed engines' triple row 
 They saw them whelmed, and all their confidence 
 Under the weight of mountains buried deep ; 
 Themselves invaded next, and on their heads 
 Main promontories flung, which in the air 
 Came shadowing, and oppressed whole legions armed ; 
 Their armour helped their harm, crushed in and 
 
 bruised 
 Into their substance pent, which wrought them pain 
 Implacable, and many a dolorous groan ; 
 Long struggling underneath, ere they could wind 
 Out of such prison, though spirits of purest light. 
 Purest at first, now gross by sinning grown. 
 The rest, in imitation, to like arms 
 Betook them, and the neighbouring hills uptore : 
 So hills amid the air encountered hills. 
 Hurled to and fro with jaculation dire ; 
 That underground they fought in dismal shade ; 
 Infernal noise ! war seemed a civil game 
 To this uproar ; horrid confusion heaped 
 Upon confusion rose. And now all heaven 
 Had gone to wrack, with ruin overspread ; 
 Had not the Almighty Father, where he sits 
 Shrined in his sanctuary of heaven secure. 
 Consulting on the sum of thing^s, foreseen 
 This tumult, and permitted all, advised ; 
 That his great purpose he might so fulfil. 
 To honour his anointed Son avenged 
 Upon his enemies, and to declare 
 All power on him transferred : whence to his Son, 
 
60 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book VI. 
 
 The assessor of bis throne, he thus began : 
 " Etfulgeiice of my glorj, Son beloved, 
 Son, in whose face invisible is beheld 
 Visibly, what by Deity I am, 
 And in whose hand what by decree I do. 
 Second omnipotence! two days are past. 
 Two days, as we compute the days of heaven. 
 Since Michael and his powers went forth to tame 
 These disobedient : sore hath been their fight. 
 As likeliest was, when two such foes met armed ; 
 For to themselves I left them ; and thou knowest, 
 Equal in their creation they were formed, 
 Save what sin hath impaired ; which yet hath wrought 
 Insensibly, for I suspend their doom ; 
 Whence in perpetual fight they needs must last 
 Endless, and no solution will be found : 
 War wearied hath performed what war can do. 
 And to disordered rage let loose the reins. 
 With mountains, as with weapons, armed ; « hich makes 
 Wild work in heaven, and dangerous to the main. 
 Two days are therefore past, the third is thine ; 
 For thee I have ordained it; and thus far 
 Have suffered, that the glory may be thine 
 Of ending this great war, since none but thou 
 Can end it. Into thee such virtue and grace 
 Immense I have transfused, that all may know 
 In heaven and hell thy power above compare; 
 And, this perverse commotion governed thus, 
 To manifest thee worthiest to be Heir 
 Of all things ; to be Heir, and to be King 
 By sacred unction, thy deserved right. 
 Go then, thou Mightiest, in thy Father's might ; 
 Ascend my chariot, guide the rapid wheels 
 That shake heaven's basis, bring forth all my war, 
 My bow and thunder, my almighty arms 
 Gird on, and sword upon thy puissant thigh ; 
 Pursue these sons of darkness, drive them out 
 From all heaven's bounds into the utter deep : 
 There let them learn, as likes them, to despise 
 God, and Messiah, his anointed King." 
 
 * He said, and on his Son with rays direct 
 Shone full ; he all his Father full expressed 
 Ineffably into his face received ; 
 And thus the filial Godhead answering spake : 
 
 " Father, O Supreme of heavenly thrones. 
 First, Highest, Holiest, Best; thou always seekest 
 To glorify thy Son ; I always thee. 
 As is most just: this I my glory account, 
 My exaltation, and my whole delight. 
 That thou in me, well pleased, declarest thy will 
 Fulfilled, which to fulfil is all my bliss. 
 Scepter and power, thy giving, I assume. 
 And gladlier shall resign, when in the end 
 Thou shalt be all in all, and I in thee 
 For ever ; and in me all whom thou lovest : 
 But whom thou hatest, I hate, and can put on 
 Thy terrors, as I put thy mildness on. 
 Image of thee in all things; and shall soon, 
 Armed with thy might, rid heaven of these rebelled ; 
 To their prepared ill mansion driven down, 
 To chains of darkness, and the undying worm, 
 
 That from thy just obedience could revolt. 
 
 Whom to obey is happiness entire. 
 
 Then shall thy saints unmixed, and from the impure 
 
 Far separate, circling thy holy mount, 
 
 Unfeigned hallelujahs to thee sing. 
 
 Hymns of high praise, and I among them chief." 
 
 ' So said, he, o'er his scepter bowing, rose 
 From the right hand of glory where he sat; 
 And the third sacred morn began to shine, 
 Dawning through heaven. Forth rushed with whirl- 
 wind sound 
 The chariot of Paternal Deity, 
 
 Flashing thick flames, wheel within wheel undrawn. 
 Itself instinct with spirit, but convoyed 
 By four cherubic shapes ; four faces each 
 Had wondrous; as with stars, their bodies all, 
 And wings, were set with eyes ; with eyes the wheels 
 Of beryl, and careering fires between ; 
 Over their heads a crystal firmament. 
 Whereon a sapphire throne, inlaid with pure 
 Amber, and colours of the showery arch. 
 He, in celestial panoply all armed 
 Of radiant Urim, work divinely wrought. 
 Ascended ; at his right hand Victory 
 Sat eagle-winged ; beside him hung his bow 
 And quiver with three-bolted thunder stored; 
 And from about him fierce effusion rolled 
 Of smoke, and bickering flame, and sparkles dire: 
 Attended with ten thousand thousand saints. 
 He onward came ; far off his coming shone ; 
 And twenty thousand (I their number heard) 
 Chariots of God, half on each hand, were seen : 
 He on the wings of cherub rode sublime 
 On the crystalline sky; in sapphire throned, 
 Illustrious far and wide ; but by his own 
 First seen : them unexpected joy surprised, 
 When the great ensign of Messiah blazed 
 Aloft by angels borne, his sign in heaven ; 
 Under whose conduct Michael soon reduced 
 His army, circum fused on either wing, 
 Under their head imbodied all in one. 
 Before him Power Divine his way prepared ; 
 At his command the uprooted hills retired 
 Each to his place ; they heard his voice, and went 
 Obsequious; heaven his wonted face renewed. 
 And with fresh flowerets hill end valley smiled. 
 This saw his hapless foes, but stood obdured. 
 And to rebellious fight rallied their powers, 
 Insensate, hope conceiving from despair. 
 In heavenly spirits could such perverseness dwell .'' 
 But to convince the proud what signs avail, 
 Or wonders move the obdurate to relent.'' 
 They, hardened more by what might most reclaim, 
 Grieving to sec his glory, at the sight 
 Took envy ; and aspiring to his highth. 
 Stood re-embattled fierce, by force or fraud 
 Weening to prosper, and at length prevail 
 Against God and Messiah, or to fall 
 In universal ruin last ; and now 
 To final battle drew, disdaining flight, 
 Or faint retreat; when the great Son of God 
 
Book VI. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 51 
 
 To all his host on either hand thus spake : 
 
 " Stand still in bright array, ye saints ; here stand, 
 Ye angels armed ; this day from battle rest : 
 Faithful hath been your warfare, and of God 
 Accepted, fearless in his righteous cause : 
 And as ye have received, so have ye done, 
 Invincibly : but of this cursed crew 
 The punishment to other hand belongs ; 
 Vengeance is his, or whose he sole appoints : 
 Number to this day's work is not ordained, 
 Nor multitude ; stand only, and behold 
 God's indignation on these godless poured 
 By me ; not you, but me, they have despised. 
 Yet envied ; against me is all their rage. 
 Because the Father, to whom in heaven supreme 
 Kingdom, and power, and glory appertains, 
 Hath honoured me, according to his will. 
 Therefore to me their doom he hath assigned : 
 That they may have their wish, to try with me 
 In battle which the stronger proves ; they all. 
 Or I alone against them ; since by strength 
 They measure all, of other excellence 
 Not emulous, nor care who them excels ; 
 Nor other strife with them do I vouchsafe." 
 
 ' So spake the Son, and into terror changed 
 His countenance too severe to be beheld. 
 And full of wrath bent on his enemies. 
 At once the four spread out their starry wings 
 With dreadful shade contiguous, and the orbs 
 Of his fierce chariot rolled, as with the sound 
 Of torrent floods, or of a numerous host. 
 He on his impious foes right onward drove, 
 Gloomy as night : under his burning wheels 
 The stedfast empyrean shook throughout. 
 All but the throne itself of God. Full soon 
 Among them he arrived ; in his right hand 
 Grasping ten thousand thunders, which he sent 
 Before him, such as in their souls infixed 
 Plagues : they, astonished, all resistance lost. 
 All courage ; down their idle weapons dropt ; 
 O'er shields, and helms, and helmed heads he rode 
 Of thrones and mighty seraphim prostrate, 
 That wished the mountains now might be again 
 Thrown on them, as a shelter from his ire. 
 Nor less on either side tempestuous fell 
 His arrows, from the fourfold-visaged four 
 Distinct with ej-es, and from the living wheels 
 Distinct alike with multitude of eyes; 
 One spirit in them ruled ; and every eye 
 Glared lightning, and shot forth pernicious fire 
 Among the accursed, that withered all their strength. 
 And of their wonted vigour left them drained, 
 Exhausted, spiiitless, afflicted, fallen. 
 Yet half his strength he put not forth, but checked 
 His thunder in mid volley; for he meant 
 Not to destroy, but root them out of heaven : 
 The overthrown he raised, and as a herd 
 
 Of goats or timorous flock together thronged. 
 Drove them before him thunderstruck, pursued 
 With terrors and with furies, to the bounds 
 And crystal wall of heaven; which, opening wide. 
 Rolled inward, and a spacious gap disclosed 
 Into the wasteful deep : the monstrous sight 
 Struck them with horror backward, but far worse 
 Urged them behind : headlong themselves they threw 
 Down from the verge of heaven; eternal wrath 
 Burnt after them to the bottomless pit. 
 
 ' Hell heard the unsufl'erable noise, hell saw 
 Heaven ruining from heaven, and would have fled 
 Affrighted ; but strict fate had cast too deep 
 Her dark foundations, and too fast had bound. 
 Nine days they fell : confounded Chaos roared, 
 And felt tenfold confusion in their fall 
 Through his wild anarchy, so huge a rout 
 Encumbered him with ruin : hell at last 
 Yawning received them whole, and on them closed; 
 Hell, their fit habitation, fraught with fire 
 Unquenchable, the house of woe and pain. 
 Disburdened heaven rejoiced, and soon repaired 
 Her mural breach, returning whence it rolled. 
 Sole Victor, from the expulsion of his foes, 
 Messiah his triumphal chariot turned : 
 To meet him all his saints, who silent stood 
 Eye-witnesses of his almighty acts. 
 With jubilee advanced ; and, as they went. 
 Shaded with branching palm, each order bright 
 Sung triumph, and him sung victorious King, 
 Son, Heir, and Lord, to him dominion given. 
 Worthiest to reign : He, celebrated, rode 
 Triumphant through mid heaven, into the courts 
 And temple of his mighty Father throned 
 On high ; who into glory him received. 
 Where now he sits at the right hand of bliss. 
 
 ' Thus measuring things in heaven by things on 
 earth. 
 At thy request, and that thou mayest beware 
 By what is past, to thee I have revealed 
 What might have else to human race been hid ; 
 The discord which befel, and war in heaven 
 Among the angelic powers, and the deep fall 
 Of those too high aspiring, who rebelled 
 With Satan ; he who envies now thy state. 
 Who now is plotting how he may seduce 
 Thee also from obedience, that with him 
 Bereaved of happiness, thou mayest partake 
 His punishment, eternal misery ; 
 Which would be all his solace and revenge. 
 As a despite done against the Most High, 
 Thee once to gain companion of his woe. 
 But listen not to his temptations, warn 
 The weaker; let it profit thee to have heard. 
 By terrible example, the reward 
 Of disobedience ; firm they might have stood, 
 Yet fell; remember, and fear to transgress/ 
 
 E 2 
 
!fl 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book VII. 
 
 BOOK VII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Raphael at the request of Adam, relates how and wherefore this world was first created ; that God. after the expelling cf Satan and 
 his pn'eels out of heaven, declared his pleasure to create another world, and other creatures to dwell therein ; sends his Son with 
 glory, and attendance of angels, to perform the work of creation in six days; the angels celebrate with hymns the performance, 
 thereof, and his reascension mto heaven. 
 
 Descend from heaven, Urania, by tliat name 
 If rightly thou art called, whose voice divine 
 Followingr, above the Olympian hill I soar, 
 Above the flight of Pegasean wing. 
 The meaning, not the name, I call : for thou 
 Nor of the muses nine, nor on the top 
 Of old Olympus dwcllest; but, heavenly-born. 
 Before the hills appeared, or fountain flowed, 
 Thou with Eternal Wisdom didst converse. 
 Wisdom thy sister, and with her didst play 
 In presence of the Almighty Father, pleased 
 With thy celestial song. Up led by thee, 
 Into the heaven of heavens I have presumed, 
 An earthly guest, and drawn empyreal air. 
 Thy tempering : with like safety guided down, 
 Return me to my native element: 
 Lest from this flying steed unreined, (as once 
 Bcllerophon, though from a lower clime,) 
 Dismounted, on the Aleian field I fall. 
 Erroneous there to wander, and forlorn. 
 Half yet remains unsung, but narrower bound 
 Within the visible diurnal sphere: 
 Standing on earth, not rapt above the pole. 
 More safe I sing with mortal voice, unchanged 
 To hoarse or mute, though fallen on evil days. 
 On evil days though fallen, and evil tongues ; 
 In darkness, and with dangers compassed round. 
 And solitude ; yet not alone, while thou 
 Visitest my slumbers nightly, or when morn 
 Purples the east : still govern thou my song, 
 Urania, and fit audience find, though iesv. 
 But drive far off" the barbarous dissonance 
 Of Bacchus and his revellers, the race 
 Of that vile rout that tore the Thracian bard 
 In Rhodope, where woods and rocks had ears 
 To rapture, till the savage clamour drowned 
 Both harp and voice ; nor could the muse defend 
 Her son. So fail not thou, who thee implores : 
 For thou art heavenly, she an empty dream. 
 
 Say, goddess, what ensued when Raphael, 
 The aflable archangel, had forewarned 
 Adam, by dire example, to beware 
 Apostasy, by what befell in heaven 
 To those apostates; lest the like befall 
 In Paradise to Adam or his race, 
 Charged not to touch the interdicted tree. 
 If they transgress, and slight that sole command. 
 So easily obeyed amid the choice 
 
 Of all tastes else to please their appetite. 
 
 Though wandering. He, with his consorted Eve, 
 
 The story heard attentive, and was filled 
 
 With admiration and deep muse, to hear 
 
 Of things so high and strange ; things, to their thought 
 
 So unimaginable, as hate in heaven. 
 
 And war so near the peace of God in bliss. 
 
 With such confusion: but the evil, soon \ 
 
 Driven back, redounded as a flood on those 
 
 From whom it sprung; impossible to mi.\ 
 
 With blessedness. Whence Adam soon repealed 
 
 The doubts that in his heart arose : and now 
 
 Led on, yet sinless, with desire to know 
 
 What nearer might concern him, how this world 
 
 Of heaven and earth conspicuous first began; 
 
 When, and whereof created ; for what cause ; 
 
 What within Eden, or without, was done 
 
 Before his memory: as one whose drought 
 
 Yet scarce allayed still eyes the current stream. 
 
 Whose liquid murmur heard new thirst excites, = 
 
 Proceeded thus to ask his heavenly guest: 
 
 ' Great things and full of wonder in our ears, 
 Far differing from this world, thou hast revealed, 
 Divine interpreter ! by favour sent 
 Down from the empyrean, to forewarn 
 Us timely of what might else have been our loss, 
 Unknown, which human knowledge could not reach 
 For which to the infinitely Good we owe 
 Immortal thanks, and his admonishment 
 Receive with solemn purpose to observe 
 Immutably his sovran will, the end 
 Of what we are. But since thou hast vouchsafed 
 Gently, for our instruction, to impart 
 Things above earthly thought, which yet concerned 
 Our knowing, as to highest Wisdom seemed. 
 Deign to descend now lower, and relate 
 What may no less perhaps avail us known, 
 How first began this heaven which we behold 
 Distant so high, with moving fires adorned 
 Innumerable ; and this which yields or fills 
 All space, the ambient air wide interfused 
 Embracing round this florid earth : what cause 
 Moved the Creator, in iiis holy rest 
 Through all eternity, so late to build 
 In Chaos ; and tlie work begun, how soon 
 Absolved ; if unforbid thou mayst unfold 
 What we, not to explore the secrets ask 
 Of bis eternal empire, but the more 
 
 
Book VII. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 53 
 
 To magnify his works, the more we know. 
 
 And the great light of day yet wants to run 
 
 Much of his race though steep ; suspense in heaven, 
 
 Held by thy voice, thy potent voice, he hears, 
 
 And longer will delay to hear thee tell 
 
 His generation, and the rising birth 
 
 Of nature from the unapparent deep : 
 
 Or if the star of evening and the moon 
 
 Haste to thy audience, night with her will bring 
 
 Silence ; and sleep, listening to thee will watch ; 
 
 Or we can bid his absence, till thy song 
 
 End, and dismiss thee ere the morning shine.' 
 
 Thus Adam his illustrious guest besought; 
 And thus the godlike angel answered mild : 
 
 ' Tliis also thy request, with caution asked, 
 Obtain : though to recount almighty works 
 What words or tongue of seraph can suffice, 
 Or heart of man suffice to comprehend ? 
 Yet what thou canst attain, which best may serve 
 To glorify the Maker, and infer 
 Thee also happier, shall not be withheld 
 Thy hearing ; such commission from above 
 I have received, to answer thy desire 
 Of knowledge within bounds; beyond, abstain 
 To ask ; nor let thine own inventions hope 
 Things not revealed, which the invisible King, 
 Only Omniscient, hath suppressed in night, 
 To none communicable in earth or heaven : 
 Enough is left besides to search and know ; 
 But knowledge is as food, and needs no less 
 Her temperance over appetite, to know 
 In measure what the mind may well contain : 
 Oppresses else with surfeit, and soon turns 
 Wisdom to folly, as nourishment to wind. 
 
 * Know then, that, after Lucifer from heaven 
 (So call him, brighter once amidst the host 
 Of angels, than that star the stars among,) 
 Fell with his flaming legions through the deep 
 Into his place, and the great Son returned 
 Victorious with his saints, the Omnipotent 
 Eternal Father from his throne beheld 
 Their multitude, and to his Son thus spake : 
 
 " At least our envious foe hath failed, who thought 
 All like himself rebellious, by whose aid 
 This inaccessible high strength, the seat 
 Of Deity supreme, us dispossessed, 
 He trusted to have seized, and into fraud 
 Drew many, whom their place knows here no more : 
 Yet far the greater part have kept, I see. 
 Their station ; heaven, yet populous, retains 
 Number sufficient to possess her realms 
 Though wide, and this high temple to frequent 
 With ministeries due, and solemn rites : 
 But, lest his heart exalt him in the harm 
 Already done, to have dispeopled heaven, 
 My damage fondly deemed, I can repair 
 That detriment, if such it be to lose 
 Self-lost ; and in a moment will create 
 Another world, out of one man a race 
 Of men innumerable, there to dwell. 
 Not here ; till by degrees of merit raised, 
 
 They open to themselves at length the way 
 
 Up hither, under long obedience tried ; 
 
 And earth be changed to heaven, and heaven to earth, 
 
 One kingdom, joy and union without end. 
 
 Meanwhile inhabit lax, ye powers of heaven ; 
 
 And thou, my Word, begotten Son, by thee 
 
 This I perform ; speak thou, and bo it done ! 
 
 My overshadowing Spirit and might with thee 
 
 I send along ; ride forth, and bid the deep 
 
 Within appointed bounds be heaven and earth ; 
 
 Boundless the deep, because I am who fill 
 
 Infinitude ; nor vacuous tlie space. 
 
 Though I, uncircumscribed myself, retire. 
 
 And put not forth my goodness, which is free 
 
 To act or not ; necessity and chance 
 
 Approach not me, and what I will is fate." 
 
 ' So spake the Almighty, and to what he spake 
 His Word, the filial Godhead, gave eflfect. 
 Immediate are the acts of God, more swift 
 Than time or motion, but to human ears 
 Cannot without process of speech be told, 
 So told as earthly notion can receive. 
 Great triumph and rejoicing was in heaven. 
 When such was heard declared the Almighty's will ; 
 Glory they sung to the Most High, good will 
 To future men, and in their dwellings peace : 
 Glory to him, whose just avenging ire 
 Had driven out the ungodly from his sight 
 And the habitations of the just; to him 
 Glory and praise, whose wisdom had ordained 
 Good out of evil to create ; instead 
 Of spirits malign, a better race to bring 
 Into their vacant room, and thence diffuse 
 His good to worlds and ages infinite, 
 
 ' So sang the hierarchies : meanwhile the Son 
 On his great expedition now appeared. 
 Girt with omnipotence, with radiance crowned 
 Of majesty divine : sapience and love 
 Immense, and all his Father in him shone. 
 About his chariot numberless were poured 
 Cherub and seraph, potentates and thrones. 
 And virtues, winged spirits, and chariots winged 
 From the armoury of God; where stand of old 
 Myriads, between two brazen mountains lodged 
 Against a solemn day, harnessed at hand. 
 Celestial equipage; and now came forth 
 Spontaneous, for within them spirit lived, 
 Attendant on their Lord : heaven opened wide 
 Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound, 
 On golden hinges moving, to let forth 
 The King of Glory, in his powerful Word 
 And Spirit, coming to create new worlds. 
 On heavenly ground they stood ; and from the shore 
 They viewed the vast immeasurable abyss 
 Outrageous as a sea, dark, wasteful, wild, 
 Up from the bottom turned by furious winds 
 And surging waves, as mountains, to assault 
 Heaven's highth, and with the center mix the pole. 
 
 " Silence, ye troubled waves, and thou, deep, peace,' 
 Said then the omnific word ; " your discord end !" 
 Nor staid ; but, on the wings of cherubim 
 
64 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book VII. 
 
 Uplifted, iu paternal glory rode 
 Far into Chaos, and tlie world unborn ; 
 For Chaos heard his voice : him all his train 
 Followed in bright procession, to behold 
 Creation, and the wonders of his might. 
 Then staid the fervid wheels, and in his hand 
 He took the golden compasses, prepared 
 In God's eternal store, to circumscribe 
 This universe, and all created things : 
 One foot he centered, and the other turned 
 Round through the vast profundity obscure ; 
 And said, " Thus far extend, thus far thy bounds, 
 This be thy just circumference, O world !" 
 Thus God the heaven created, thus the earth, 
 Matter unformed and void : darkness profound 
 Covered the abyss ; but on the watry calm 
 His brooding wingfs the Spirit of God outspread. 
 And vital virtue infused, and vital warmth, 
 Throughout the 6uid mass ; but downward purged 
 The black, tartareous, cold, infernal dregs, 
 Adverse to life : then founded, then conglobcd 
 Like things to like ; the rest to several place 
 Disparted, and between spun out the air : 
 And earth, self-balanced, on her center hung. 
 
 " Let there be light," said God ; and forthwith light 
 Ethereal, first of things, quintessence pure. 
 Sprung from the deep ; and from her native east 
 To journey through the aery gloom began. 
 Sphered in a radiant cloud, for yet the sun 
 Was not ; she in a cloudy tabernacle 
 Sojourned the while. God saw the light was good ; 
 And light from darkness by the hemisphere 
 Divided : light the day, and darkness night, 
 He named. Thus was the first day even and morn : 
 Nor past uncelebrated, nor unsung 
 By the celestial quires, when orient light 
 Exhaling first from darkness they beheld ; 
 Birth-day of heaven and earth ; with joy and shout 
 The hollow universal orb they filled. 
 And touched their golden harps, and hymning praised 
 God and his works; Creator him they sung, 
 Both when first evening was, and when first morn. 
 
 ' Again, God said, " Let there be firmament 
 Amid the waters, and let it divide 
 The waters from the waters ;" and God made 
 The firmament, expanse of liquid pure, 
 Transparent, elemental air, diffused 
 In circuit to the uttermost convex 
 Of this great round ; partition firm and sure, 
 The waters underneath from those above 
 Dividing : for as earth, so he the world 
 Built on circumfluous waters calm, in wide 
 Crystalline ocean, and the loud misrule 
 Of Chaos far removed ; lest fierce extremes 
 Contiguous might distemper the whole frame : 
 And heaven be named the firmament : so even 
 And morning chorus sung the second day. 
 
 ' The earth was formed, but in the womb as yet 
 Of waters, embryon immature involved. 
 Appeared not : over all the face of earth 
 Main ocean flowed, not idle; but, with warm 
 
 Prolific humour softening all her globe, 
 
 Fermented the great mother to conceive, 
 
 Satiate with genial moisture ; when God said, 
 
 " Be gathered now, ye waters under heaven, 
 
 Into one place, and let dry land appear." 
 
 Immediately the mountains huge appear 
 
 Emergent, and their broad bare backs upheave 
 
 Into the clouds ; their tops ascend the sky : 
 
 So high as heaved the tumid hills, so low 
 
 Down sunk a hollow bottom broad and deep, 
 
 Capacious bed of waters : thither they 
 
 Husted with glad precipitance, uprolled, 
 
 As drops on dust conglobing from the dry : 
 
 Part rise in crystal wall, or ridge direct. 
 
 For haste ; such flight the great command impressed 
 
 On the swift floods ; as armies at the call 
 
 Of trumpets (for of armies thou hast heard) 
 
 Troop to their standard ; so the watry throng. 
 
 Wave rolling after wave, where way they found, 
 
 If steep, with torrent rapture, if through plain. 
 
 Soft ebbing : nor withstood them rock or hill ; 
 
 But they, or under ground, or circuit wide 
 
 With serpent error wandering, found their way, 
 
 And on the washy ooze deep channels wore ; 
 
 Easy, ere God had bid the ground be dry, 
 
 All but within those banks, where rivers now 
 
 Stream, and perpetual draw their humid train. 
 
 The dry land, earth ; and tlie great receptacle 
 
 Of congregated waters, he called seas : 
 
 And saw that it was good ; and said, " Let the earth 
 
 Put forth the verdant grass, herb yielding seed. 
 
 And fruit-tree yielding fruit after her kind, 
 
 Whose seed is in herself upon the earth." 
 
 He scarce had said, when the bare earth, till then 
 
 Desert and bare, unsightly, unadorned, 
 
 Brought forth the tender grass, whose verdure clad 
 
 Her universal face with pleasant green ; 
 
 Then herbs of every leaf, that sudden flowered 
 
 Opening their various colours, and made gay 
 
 Her bosom, smelling sweet : and, these scarce blown, 
 
 P'orth flourished thick the clustering vine, forth crept 
 
 The swelling gourd, up stood the corny reed 
 
 Embattled in her field, and the humble shrub. 
 
 And bush with frizzled hair implicit : last 
 
 Rose, as in dance, the stately trees, and spread 
 
 Their branches, hung with copious fruit, or gemmed 
 
 Their blossoms : with high woods the fields were 
 
 crowned. 
 With tufts the valleys, and each fountain-side ; 
 With borders long the rivers : that earth now 
 Seemed like to heaven, a seat m here gods might dwell, 
 Or wander with delight, and love to haunt 
 Her sacred shades : though God had yet not rained 
 Upon the earth, and man to till the ground 
 None was ; but from the earth a dewy mist 
 Went up, and watered all the ground, and each 
 Plant of the field; which, ere it was in the earth, 
 God made, and every herb, before it grew 
 On the green stem : God saw that it was good : 
 So even and morn recorded the third day. 
 
 ' Again the Almighty spake, " Let there be lights 
 
Book VII. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 55 
 
 High in the expanse of heaven, to divide 
 
 The day from night ; and let them be for signs, 
 
 For seasons, and for days, and circling years ; 
 
 And let them be for lights, as I ordain 
 
 Their office in the firmament of heaven, 
 
 To give light on the earth ;" and it was so. 
 
 And God made two great lights, great for their use 
 
 To man, the greater to have rule by day, 
 
 The less by night, altern ; and made the stars, 
 
 And set them in the firmament of heaven 
 
 To illuminate the earth, and rule the day 
 
 In their vicissitude, and rule the night. 
 
 And light from darkness to divide. God saw, 
 
 Surveying his great work, that it was good : 
 
 For of celestial bodies first the sun 
 
 A mighty sphere he framed, unlightsome first, 
 
 Though of ethereal mould : then formed the moon 
 
 Globose, and every magnitude of stars, 
 
 And sowed with stars the heaven, thick as a field : 
 
 Of light by far the greater part he took. 
 
 Transplanted from her cloudy shrine, and placed 
 
 In the sun's orb, made porous to receive 
 
 And drink the liquid light; firm to retain 
 
 Her gatliered beams, great palace now of light. 
 
 Hither, as to their fountain, other stars 
 
 Repairing, in their golden urns draw light. 
 
 And hence the morning planet gilds her horns ; 
 
 By tincture or reflection they augment 
 
 Their small peculiar, though from human sight 
 
 So far remote, with diminution seen. 
 
 First in his east the glorious lamp was seen, 
 
 Regent of day, and all the horizon round 
 
 Invested with bright rays, jocund to run 
 
 His longitude through heaven's high road ; the gray 
 
 Dawn, and the Pleiades, before him danced, 
 
 Shedding sweet influence : less bright the moon, 
 
 But opposite in levelled west was set. 
 
 His mirror, with full face borrowing her light 
 
 From him ; for other light she needed none 
 
 In that aspect, and still that distance keeps 
 
 Till night ; then in the east her turn she shines. 
 
 Revolved on heaven's great axle, and her reign 
 
 With thousand lesser lights dividual holds. 
 
 With thousand thousand stars, that then appeared 
 
 Spangling the hemisphere : then first adorned 
 
 With their bright luminaries that set and rose. 
 
 Glad evening and glad morn crowned the fourth day. 
 
 ' And God said, " Let the waters generate 
 Reptile with spawn abundant, living soul : 
 And let fowl fly above the earth, with wings 
 Displayed on the open firmament of heaven." 
 And God created the great whales, and each 
 Soul living, each that crept, which plenteously 
 The waters generated by their kinds ; 
 And every bird of wing after his kind ; 
 And saw that it was good, and blessed them, saying, 
 " Be fruitful, multiply, and in the seas. 
 And lakes, and running streams, the waters fill : 
 And let the fowl be multiplied on the earth." 
 Forthwith the sounds and seas, each creek and bay. 
 With fry innumerable swarm, and shoals 
 
 Of fish that with their fins, and shining scales. 
 Glide under the green wave, in sculls that oft 
 Bank the mid sea : part single, or with mate, 
 Graze the sea-weed their pasture, and through groves 
 Of coral stray ; or sporting with quick glance. 
 Show to the sun their waved coats dropt with gold ; 
 Or, in their pearly shells at ease, attend 
 Moist nutriment ; or under rocks their food 
 In jointed armour watch : on smooth the seal 
 And bended dolphins play : part huge of bulk. 
 Wallowing unwieldy, enormous in their gait. 
 Tempest the ocean : there leviathan, 
 Hugest of living creatures, on the deep 
 Stretched like a promontory, sleeps or swims. 
 And seems a moving land ; and at his gills 
 Draws in, and at his trunk spouts out, a sea. 
 Meanwhile the tepid caves, and fens, and shores. 
 Their brood as numerous hatch, from the egg that 
 
 soon 
 Bursting with kindly rapture forth disclosed 
 Their callow young ; but feathered soon and fledge 
 They summed their pens ; and, soaring the air sub- 
 lime, 
 With clang despised the ground, under a cloud 
 In prospect ; there the eagle and the stork 
 On cliffs and cedar-tops their eyries build : 
 Part looselj' wing the region, part more wise 
 In common, ranged in figure, wedge their way, 
 Intelligent of seasons, and set forth 
 Their aery caravan, high over seas 
 Flying, and over lands, with mutual wing 
 Easing their flight ; so steers the prudent crane 
 Her annual voyage, borne on winds; the air 
 Floats as they pass, fanned with unnumbered plumes: 
 From branch to brand) the smaller birds with songs 
 Solaced the woods, and spread their painted wings 
 Till even ; nor then the solemn nightingale 
 Ceased warbling, but all night tuned her soft lavs : 
 Others, on silver lakes and rivers, bathed 
 Their downy breast ; the swan with arched neck, 
 Between her white wings mantling proudly, rows 
 Her state with oary feet ; yet oft tliey quit 
 The dank, and, rising on stifle pennons, tower 
 The mid aereal sky : others on ground 
 Walked firm; the crested cock whose clarion sounds 
 The silent hours, and the other whose gay train 
 Adorns him, coloured with the florid hue 
 Of rainbows and starry eyes. The waters thus 
 With fish replenished, and the air with fowl. 
 Evening and morn solemnized the fifth day. 
 
 ' The sixth, and of creation last, arose 
 With evening harps and matin ; when God said, 
 " Let the earth bring forth soul living in her kind, 
 Cattle, and creeping things, and beast of the earth, 
 Each in their kind." The earth obeyed, and straight 
 Opening her fertile womb, teemed at a birth 
 Innumerous living creatures, perfect forms. 
 Limbed and full grown : out of the ground up rose. 
 As from his lair, the wild beast, where he wons 
 In forest wild, in thicket, brake, or den ; 
 Among the trees in pairs they rose, they walked : 
 
56 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book VII. 
 
 The cattle in the fields and meadows green : 
 
 Those rare and solitary, these in flocks 
 
 Pasturing at once, and in broad herds upsprung'. 
 
 The grassy clods now calved ; now half appeared 
 
 The tawny Hon, pawing- to get free. 
 
 His hinder parts, then springs, as broke from bonds, 
 
 And rampant shakes his brinded mane; the ounce, 
 
 The libbard, and the tiger, as the mole 
 
 Rising, the crumbled earth above them threw 
 
 In hillocks : the swift stag from under ground 
 
 Bore lip his branching head : scarce from his mould 
 
 Behemoth, biggest born of earth, upheaved 
 
 His vastness : fleeced the flocks and bleating rose, 
 
 As plants : ambiguous between sea and land 
 
 The river-horse, and scaly crocodile. 
 
 At once came forth whatever creeps the ground, 
 
 Insect or worm : those waved their limber fans 
 
 For wings, and smallest lineaments exact 
 
 In all the liveries decked of summer's pride, 
 
 With spots of gold and purple, azure and green : 
 
 These as a line their long dimension drew. 
 
 Streaking the ground with sinuous trace ; not all 
 
 Minims of nature; some of serpent-kind, 
 
 Wondrous in length and corpulence, involved 
 
 Their snaky folds, and added wings. First crept 
 
 The parsimonious emmet, provident 
 
 Of future ; in small room large heart enclosed ; 
 
 Pattern of just equality perhaps 
 
 Hereafter, joined in her popular tribes 
 
 Of commonalty : swarming next appeared 
 
 The female bee, that feeds her husband drone 
 
 Deliciously, and builds her waxen cells 
 
 With honey stored : the rest are numberless. 
 
 And thou their natures knowest, and gavest them names, 
 
 Needless to thee repeated ; nor unknown 
 
 The serpent, subtlest beast of all the field, 
 
 Of huge extent sometimes, with brazen eyes 
 
 And hairy mane terrific, though to thee 
 
 Not noxious, but obedient at thy call. 
 
 ' Now heaven in her glory shone, and rolled 
 Her motions, as the great first Mover's hand 
 First wheeled their course : earth in her rich attire 
 Consummate lovely smiled ; air, water, earth, 
 By fowl, fish, beast, was flown, was swum, was walked, 
 Frequent ; and of the sixth day yet remained : 
 There wanted yet the master-work, the end 
 Of all yet done ; a creature, who, not prone 
 And brute as other creatures, but endued 
 With sanctity of reason, might erect 
 His stature, and upright with front serene 
 Govern the rest, self-knowing ; and from thence 
 Magnanimous to correspond with heaven. 
 But grateful to acknowledge whence his good 
 Descends ; thither with heart, and voice, and eyes, 
 Directed in devotion, to adore 
 And worship God Supreme, who made him chief 
 Of all his works : therefore the Omnipotent 
 Eternal Father (for where is not he 
 Present?) thus to his Son audibly spake : 
 
 " Let us make now man in our image, man 
 In our similitude, and let them rule 
 
 Over the fish and fowl of sea and air. 
 Beast of the field, and over all the earth. 
 And every creeping thing that creeps the ground." 
 This said, he formed thee, Adam, thee, O man, 
 Dust of the ground, and in thy nostrils breathed 
 The breath of life; in his own image he 
 Created thee, in the image of God 
 Express ; and thou becamest a living soul. 
 Male he created thee ; but thy consort 
 Female, for race ; then blessed mankind, and said, 
 " Be fruitful, multiply, and fill the earth, 
 Subdue it, and throughout dominion hold 
 Over fish of the sea, and fowl of the air, 
 And every living thing that moves on the earth." 
 Wherever thus created, for no place 
 Is yet distinct by name, thence, as thou knowest, 
 He brought thee into this delicious grove, 
 This garden, planted with the trees of God, 
 Delectable both to behold and taste ; 
 And freely all their pleasant fruit for food 
 Gave thee : all sorts are here that all the earth yields. 
 Variety without end ; but of the tree, 
 Which, tasted, works knowledge of good and evil. 
 Thou mayest not ; in the day thou eatest, thou diest : 
 Death is the penalty imposed ; beware. 
 And govern well thy appetite ; lest sin 
 Surprise thee, and her black attendant death." 
 ' Here finished he, and all that he had made 
 Viewed, and behold all was entirely good ; 
 So even and mom accomplished the sixth day : 
 Yet not till the Creator, from his work 
 Desisting, though unwearied, up returned. 
 Up to the heaven of heavens, his high abode ; 
 Thence to behold this new-created world. 
 The addition of his empire, how it showed 
 In prospect from his throne, how good, how fair, 
 Answering his great idea. Up he rode 
 Followed with acclamation, and the sound 
 Symphonious often thousand harps, that tuned 
 Angelic harmonies: the earth, the air 
 Resounded, (thou rememberest, for thou heardest,) 
 The heavens and all the constellations rung, 
 The planets in their station listening stood, 
 While the bright pomp ascended jubilant. 
 " Open, ye everlasting gates !" they sung, 
 " Open, ye heavens! your living doors; let in 
 The great Creator from his work returned 
 ^Magnificent, his six days' work, a world ; 
 Open, and henceforth oft; for God will deigp 
 To visit oft the dwellings of just men. 
 Delighted ; and with frequent intercourse 
 Thither will send his winged messengers 
 On errands of supernal grace." So sung 
 The glorious train ascending : he through heaven. 
 That opened wide her blazing portals, led 
 To God's eternal house direct the way ; 
 A broad and ample road, whose dust is gold, 
 And pavement stars, as stars to thee appear 
 Seen in the galaxy, that milky way 
 Which nightly, as a circling zone, thou seest 
 Powdered with stars. And now on earth the seventh 
 
Book VII. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 57 
 
 Evening' arose in Eden, for the sun 
 
 Was set, and twilight from the east came on, 
 
 Forerunning night; when at the holy mount 
 
 Of heaven's high-seated top, the imperial throne 
 
 Of Godhead fixed for ever firm and sure, 
 
 The Filial Power arrived, and sat him down 
 
 With his great Father : for he also went 
 
 Invisible, yet staid, (such privilege 
 
 Hath Omnipresence,) and the work ordained. 
 
 Author and End of all things; and, from work 
 
 Now resting, blessed and hallowed the seventh day. 
 
 As resting on that day from all his work. 
 
 But not in silence holy kept : the harp 
 
 Had work and rested not ; the solemn pipe, 
 
 And dulcimer, all organs of sweet stop, 
 
 All sounds on fret by string or golden wire, 
 
 Tempered soft tunings, intermixed with voice 
 
 Choral or unison : of incense clouds, 
 
 Fuming from golden censers, hid the mount. 
 
 Creation and the six days' acts they sung : 
 
 " Great are thy works, Jehovah ! infinite 
 
 Thy power! what thought can measure thee, or tongue 
 
 Relate thee ? Greater now in thy return 
 
 Than from the g'iant angels : thee that day 
 
 Thy thunders magnified ; but to create 
 
 Is greater than created to destroy. 
 
 Who can impair thee. Mighty King, or bound 
 
 Thy empire ? easily the proud attempt 
 
 Of spirits apostate, and their counsels vain, 
 
 Thou hast repelled ; while impiously they thought 
 
 Thee to diminish, and from thee withdraw 
 The number of thy worshippers. Who seeks 
 To lessen thee, against his purpose serves 
 To manifest the more thy might : his evil 
 Thou usest, and from thence Greatest more good. 
 Witness this new-made world, another heaven 
 From heaven-gate not far, founded in view 
 On the clear hyaline, the glassy sea; 
 Of amplitude almost immense, with stars 
 Numerous, and every star perhaps a world 
 Of destined habitation ; but thou knowest 
 Their seasons : among these the seat of men, 
 Earth with her nether ocean circumfused. 
 Their pleasant dwelling-place. Thrice happy men, 
 And sons of men, whom God hath thus advanced! 
 Created in his image there to dwell 
 And worship him ; and in reward to rule 
 Over his works, on earth, in sea, or air. 
 And multiply a race of worshippers 
 Holy and just : thrice happy, if they know 
 Their happiness, and persevere upright !" 
 ' So sung they, and the empyrean rung 
 With halleluiahs: thus was the sabbath kept. — 
 And thy request think now fulfilled, that asked 
 How first this world and face of things began, 
 And what before thy memory was done 
 From the beginning; that posterity. 
 Informed by thee, might know : if else thou seekest 
 Aught not surpassing human measure, say.' 
 
 BOOK VIII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Adam inquires concerning celestial motions ; is doubtfully answered, and exhorted to search rather things more worthy of know- 
 ledge: Adam assents; and, still desirous to detain Raphael, relates to him what he remembered smee his own creation ; his 
 placing in Paradise ; his talk with God concerning solitude and fit society ; his first meeting and nuptials with Eve : his discourse 
 with the angel thereupon ; who, after admonitions repeated, departs. 
 
 The angel ended, and in Adam's ear 
 So charming left his voice, that he a while 
 Thought him still speaking, still stood fixed to hear; 
 Then, as new-waked, thus gratefully replied : 
 
 ' What thanks sufficient, or what recompence 
 Equal, have I to render thee, divine 
 Historian, who thus largely hast allayed 
 The thirst I had of knowledge, and vouchsafed 
 This friendly condescension to relate 
 Things else by me unsearchable ; now heard 
 With wonder, but delight, and as is due, 
 With glory attributed to the high 
 Creator ? Something yet of doubt remains, 
 Which only thy solution can resolve. 
 When I behold this goodly frame, this world, 
 
 Of heaven and earth consisting : and compute 
 
 Their magnitudes ; this earth a spot, a grain, 
 
 An atom, with the firmament compared 
 
 And all her numbered stars, that seem to roll 
 
 Spaces incomprehensible, (for such 
 
 Their distance argues, and their swift return 
 
 Diurnal,) merely to officiate light 
 
 Round this opacous earth, this punctual spot. 
 
 One day and night ; in all their vast survey 
 
 Useless besides; reasoning I oft admire, 
 
 How nature wise and frugal could commit 
 
 Such disproportions, with superfluous hand 
 
 So many nobler bodies to create. 
 
 Greater so manifold, to this one use. 
 
 For aught appears, and on their orbs impose 
 
58 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book VIII. 
 
 Such restless reToIution day by day 
 Repeated ; while the sedentary earth, 
 That better iDight witli far less compass move, 
 Served by more noble than herself, attains 
 Her end without least motion, and receives, 
 As tribute, such a sumless journey brought 
 Of incorporeal speed, her warmth and light; 
 Spee<l, to describe whose swiftness number fails.' 
 
 So spake our sire, and by his countenance seemed 
 Entering on studious thoughts abstruse ; which Eve 
 Perceiving, where she sat retired in sight. 
 With lowliness majestic from her seat, 
 And grace that won who saw to wish her stay, 
 Rose, and went forth among her fruits and flowers, 
 To visit how they prospered, bud and bloom, 
 Her nursery ; they at her coming sprung. 
 And, touched by her fair tendance, gladlier grew. 
 Yet went she not, as not with such discourse 
 Delighted, or not capable her ear 
 Of what was high : such pleasure she reserved, 
 Adam relating, the sole auditress: 
 Her husband the relater she preferred 
 Before the angel, and of him to ask 
 Chose rather; he, she knew, would intermix 
 Grateful digressions, and solve high dispute 
 With conjugal caresses: from his lip 
 Not words alone pleased her. O ! when meet now 
 Such pairs in love and mutual honour joined .•' 
 With goddess-like demeanour forth she went. 
 Not unattended ; for on her, as queen, 
 A pomp of winning graces waited still, 
 And from about her shot darts of desire 
 Into all eyes, to wish her still in sight. 
 And Raphael now, to Adam's doubt proposed. 
 Benevolent and facile thus replied : 
 
 ' To ask or search, I blame thee not; for heaven 
 Is as the book of God before thee set. 
 Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn 
 His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years : 
 This to attain, whether heaven move or earth. 
 Imports not, if thou reckon right; the rest 
 From man or angel the great Architect 
 Did wisely to conceal, and not divulge 
 His secrets to be scanned by them who ought 
 Rather admire ; or, if they list to try 
 Conjecture, he his fabric of the heavens 
 Hath left to their disputes, perhaps to move 
 His laughter at their quaint opinions wide 
 Hereafter ; when they come to model heaven 
 And calculate the stars, how they will wield 
 The mighty frame : how build, unbuild, contrive 
 To save appearances ; how gird the sphere 
 With centric and eccentric scribbled o'er. 
 Cycle and epicycle, orb in orb : 
 Already by thy reasoning this I guess. 
 Who art to lead thy offspring, and supposest 
 That bodies bright and greater should not serve 
 The less not bright, nor heaven such journeys run. 
 Earth sitting still, when she alone receives 
 The benefit. Consider first, that great 
 Or bright infers not excellence : the earth 
 
 Though, in comparison of heaven, so small. 
 
 Nor glistering, may of solid good contain 
 
 More plenty than the sun that barren shines : 
 
 Whose virtue on itself works no effect. 
 
 But in the fruitful earth ; there firet received, 
 
 His beams, unactive else, their vigour find. 
 
 Yet not to earth are those bright luminaries 
 
 Officious ; but to thee earth's habitant. 
 
 And for the heaven's wide circuit, let it speak 
 
 The Maker's high magnificence, who built 
 
 So spacious, and his line stretched out so far. 
 
 That man may know he dwells not in his own; 
 
 An edifice too large for him to fill. 
 
 Lodged in a small partition, and the rest 
 
 Ordained for uses to his Lord best known. 
 
 The swiftness of those circles attribute. 
 
 Though numberless, to his omnipotence. 
 
 That to corporeal substances could add 
 
 Speed almost spiritual : me thou thinkest not slow. 
 
 Who since the morning-hour set out from heaven 
 
 Where God resides, and ere mid-day arrived 
 
 In Eden ; distance inexpressible 
 
 By numbers that have name. But this I urge, 
 
 Admitting motion in the heavens, to show 
 
 Invalid that which thee to doubt it moved ; 
 
 Not that I so affirm, though so it seem 
 
 To thee who hast thy dwelling here on earth. 
 
 God, to remove his ways from human tense, 
 
 Placed heaven from earth so far, that earthly sight, 
 
 If it presume, might err in things too high. 
 
 And no advantage gain. What if the sun 
 
 Be center to the world ; and other stars. 
 
 By his attractive virtue and their own 
 
 Incited, dance about him various rounds ? 
 
 Their wandering course now high, now low, then hid 
 
 Progressive, retrograde, or standing still. 
 
 In six thou seest ; and what if seventh to these 
 
 The planet earth, so steadfast though she seem, 
 
 Insensibly three different motions move .' 
 
 Which else to several spheres thou must ascribe, 
 
 Moved contrary with thwart obliquities ; 
 
 Or save the sun his labour, and that swift J 
 
 Nocturnal and diurnal rhomb supposed, | 
 
 Invisible else above all stars, the wheel 
 
 Of day and night; which needs not thy belief. 
 
 If earth, industrious of herself, fetch day 
 
 Travelling east, and with her part averse ' 
 
 From the sun's beam meet night, her other part 
 
 Still luminous by his ray. What if that light. 
 
 Sent from her through the wide transpicuous air, 
 
 To the terrestrial moon be as a star. 
 
 Enlightening her by day as she by night 
 
 This earth ? reciprocal if land be there. 
 
 Fields and inhabitants ? her spots thou seest 
 
 As clouds, and clouds may rain, and rain produce 
 
 Fruits in her softened soil, for some to eat 
 
 Allotted there ; and other suns perhaps. 
 
 With their attendant moons, thou wilt descry. 
 
 Communicating male and female light; 
 
 Which two great sexes animate the world. 
 
 Stored in each orb perhaps with some that live : 
 
Book VIII. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 59 
 
 For such vast room in nature unpossessed 
 By living soul, desert, and desolate. 
 Only to shine, yet scarce to contribute 
 Each orb a glimpse of light conveyed so far 
 Down to this habitable, which returns 
 Light back to them, is obvious to dispute. 
 But whether thus these things, or whether not; 
 Whether the sun, predoniiiiant in heaven, 
 Rise on the earth ; or earth rise on the sun ; 
 He from the east his flaming road begin ; 
 Or she from west her silent course advance, 
 With inoffensive pace that spinning sleeps 
 On her soft axle, while she paces even. 
 And bears thee soft with the smooth air along; 
 Solicit not thy thoughts with matters hid ; 
 Leave them to God above ; him serve and fear. 
 Of other creatures, as him pleases best. 
 Wherever placed, let him dispose; joy thou 
 In what he gives to thee, this Paradise 
 And thy fziir Eve ; heaven is for thee too high 
 To know what passes there ; be lowly wise: 
 Think only what concerns thee, and thy being; 
 Dream not of other worlds, what creatures there 
 Live, in what state, condition, or degree : 
 Contented that thus far hath been revealed 
 Not of earth only, but of highest heaven.' 
 
 To whom thus Adam, cleared of doubt, replied: 
 ' How fully hast thou satisfied me, pure 
 Intelligence of heaven, angel serene ! 
 And freed from intricacies, taught to live 
 The easiest way ; nor with perplexing thoughts 
 To interrupt the sweet of life, from which 
 God hath bid dwell far off all anxious cares, 
 And not molest us ; unless we ourselves 
 Seek them with wandering thoughts, and notions vain. 
 But apt the mind or fancy is to rove 
 Unchecked, and of her roving is no end ; 
 Till warned, or by experience taught, she learn, 
 That not to know at large of things remote 
 From use, obscure and subtle, but to know 
 That which before us lies in daily life. 
 Is the prime wisdom : what is more, is fume, 
 Or emptiness, or fond impertinence : 
 And renders us, in things that most concern, 
 Unpractised, unprepared, and still to seek. 
 Therefore from this high pitch let us descend 
 A lower flight, and speak of things at hand 
 Useful ; whence, haply, mention may arise 
 Of something not unseasonable to ask. 
 By sufferance, and thy wonted favour, deigned. 
 Thee I have heard relating what was done 
 Ere my remembrance : now, hear me relate 
 My story, which perhaps thou hast not heard ; 
 And day is not yet spent ; till then thou seest 
 How subtly to detain thee I devise : 
 Inviting thee to hear while I relate ; 
 Fond, were it not in hope of thy reply : 
 For, while I sit with thee, I seem in heaven; 
 And sweeter thy discourse is to my ear 
 Than fruits of palm-tree pleasantest to thirst 
 And hunger both, from labour at the hour 
 
 Of sweet repast; they satiate, and soon fill. 
 Though pleasant ; but thy words, with grace divine 
 Imbued, bring to their sweetness no satiety.' 
 
 To whom thus Raphael answered heavenly meek : 
 ' Nor are thy lips ungraceful, sire of men, 
 Nor tongue ineloquent ; for God on thee 
 Abundantly his gifts hath also poured 
 Inward and outward both, his image fair : 
 Speaking, or mute, all comeliness and grace 
 Attends thee; and each word, each motion, forms: 
 Nor less think we in heaven of thee on earth 
 Than of our fellow-servant, and inquire 
 Gladly into the ways of God with man: 
 For God, we see, hath honoured thee, and set 
 On man his equal love: say therefore on; 
 For I that day was absent, as befel, 
 Bound on a voyage uncouth and obscure, 
 Far on excursion toward the gates of hell ; 
 Squared in full legion (such command we had) 
 To see that none thence issued forth a spy, 
 Or enemy, while God was in his work ; 
 Lest he, incensed at such eruption bold, 
 Destruction with creation might have mixed. 
 Not that they durst without his leave attempt: 
 But us he sends upon his high behests 
 For state, as Sovran King; and to inure 
 Our prompt obedience. Fast we found, fast shut. 
 The dismal gates, and barricadoed strong ; 
 But long ere our approaching heard within 
 Noise, other than the sound of dance or song, 
 Torment, and loud lament, and furious rage. 
 Glad we returned up to the coasts of light 
 Ere sabbath-evening : so we had in charge. 
 But thy relation now ; for I attend. 
 Pleased with thy words no less than thou with mine.' 
 
 So spake the godlike power, and thus our sire: 
 ' For man to tell how human life began 
 Is hard ; for who himself beginning knew .'' 
 Desire with thee still longer to converse 
 Induced me. As new waked from soundest sleep, 
 Soft on the flowery herb I found me laid. 
 In balmy sweat; which with his beams the sun 
 Soon dried, and on the reeking moisture fed. 
 Straight toward heaven my wondering eyes I turned, 
 And gazed a while the ample sky; till raised 
 By quick instinctive motion, up I sprung. 
 As thitherward endeavouring, and upright 
 Stood on my feet : about me round I saw 
 Hill, dale, and shady woods, and sunny plains. 
 And liquid lapse of murmuring streams ; by these 
 Creatures that lived and moved, and walked or flew ; 
 Birds on the branches warbling; all things smiled ; 
 With fragrance and with joy my heart o'erflowed. 
 Myself I then perused, and limb by limb 
 Surveyed, and sometimes went, and sometimes ran 
 With supple joints, as lively vigour led : 
 But who I was, or where, or from what cause, 
 Knew not; to speak I tried, and forthwith spake; 
 My tongue obeyed, and readily could name 
 Whate'er I saw. " Thou sun," said I, " fair light, 
 And thou enlightened earth, so fresh and gay, 
 
«0 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book VIII. 
 
 Ye hills, and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains, 
 
 And ye that live and move, fair creatures, tell, 
 
 Tell, if ye saw, how I came thus, how here? 
 
 Not of myself; by some great Maker then, 
 
 In goodness and in power pre-eminent : 
 
 Tell me, how I may know him, how adore, 
 
 From whom I have that thus I move and live, 
 
 And feel that I am happier than I know." 
 
 While thus I called, and strayed I knew not whither, 
 
 From where I first drew air, and first beheld 
 
 This happy light; when answer none returned, 
 
 On a green shady bank, profuse of flowers, 
 
 Pensive I sat me down : there gentle sleep 
 
 First found me, and with soft oppression seized 
 
 My drowsed sense, untroubled, though I thought 
 
 I then was passing to my former state 
 
 Insensible, and forthwith to dissolve : 
 
 AVhen suddenly stood at my head a dream, 
 
 Whose inward apparition gently moved 
 
 My fancy to believe I yet had being, 
 
 And lived : one came, methougbt, of shape divine, 
 
 And said, " Thy mansion wants thee, Adam ; rise, 
 
 First man, of men innumerable ordained 
 
 First father ! called by thee, I come thy guide 
 
 To the garden of bliss, thy scat prepared." 
 
 So saj-ing, by the hand he took me raised. 
 
 And over fields and waters, as in air 
 
 Smooth sliding without step, last led me up 
 
 A woody mountain; whose high top was plain, 
 
 A circuit wide, enclosed with goodliest trees 
 
 Planted with walks and bowers ; that what I saw 
 
 Of earth before scarce pleasant seemed. Each tree, 
 
 leaden with fairest fruit that hung to the eye 
 
 Tempting, stirred in me sudden appetite 
 
 To pluck and eat; whereat I waked, and found 
 
 Before mine eyes all real, as the dream 
 
 Had lively' shadowed : here had new begun 
 
 My wandering, had not He, who was my guide 
 
 Up hither, from among the trees appeared. 
 
 Presence Divine. Rejoiciiig, but with awe, 
 
 In adoration at his feet I fell 
 
 Submiss ; he reared me, and, "Whom thou sougbtest 
 
 I am," 
 Said mildly, " Author of all this thouseest 
 Above, or round about thee, or beneath. 
 This Paradise I give thee, count it thine 
 To till and keep, and of the fruit to eat : 
 Of every tree that in the garden grows 
 Eat freely wijh glad heart ; fear here no dearth : 
 But of the tree whose operation brings 
 Knowledge of good and ill, which I have set 
 The pledge of thy obedience and thy faith, 
 Amid the garden by the tree of life. 
 Remember what I warn thee, shun to taste. 
 And shun the bitter consequence : for know. 
 The day thou eatest thereof, my sole command 
 Transgressed, inevitably thou shalt die. 
 From that day mortal ; and this happy state 
 Shalt lose, expelled from hence into a world 
 Of woe and sorrow." Sternly he pronounced 
 The rigid interdiction, which resounds 
 
 Yet dreadful in mine ear, though in my choice 
 
 Not to incur ; but soon his clear aspect 
 
 Returned, aud gracious purpose thus renewed: 
 
 " Not only these fair bounds, but all the earth 
 
 To thee and to thy race I give ; as lords 
 
 Possess it, and all things that therein live. 
 
 Or live in sea, or air; beast, fish, and fowl. 
 
 In sign whereof, each bird and beast behold 
 
 After their kinds ; I bring them to receive 
 
 From thee their names, and pay thee fealty 
 
 With low subjection ; understand the same 
 
 Of fish within their watry residence. 
 
 Not hither summoned, since they cannot change 
 
 Their element, to draw the thinner air." 
 
 As thus he spake, each bird and beast behold 
 
 Approaching two and two ; these cowering low 
 
 With blandishment; each bird stooped on his wing'. 
 
 I named them, as they passed, and understood 
 
 Their nature, with such knowledge God endued 
 
 My sudden apprehension : but in these 
 
 I found not what methougbt I wanted still : 
 
 And to the heavenly vision thus presumed : 
 
 " O, by what name, for thou above all these. 
 Above mankind, or aught than mankind higher, 
 Surpassest far my naming; how may I 
 Adore thee, Author of this universe. 
 And all this good to man .•* for whose well-being 
 So amply, and with hands so liberal, j 
 
 Thou hast provided all things: but with me m 
 
 I see not who partakes. In solitude 
 What happiness ? who can enjoy alone. 
 Or, all enjoying, what contentment find ?" m 
 
 Thus I presumptuous ; and the vision bright,   
 
 As with a smile more brightened, thus replied : 
 
 " What callest thou solitude .'' Is not the earth 
 With various living creatures, and the air 
 Replenished, and all these at thy command 
 To come and play before thee .•• Knowest thou not 
 Their language and their ways .'' They also know, 
 And reason not contemptibly : with these 
 Find pastime, and bear rule ; thy realm is large." 
 So spake the Universal Lord, and seemed 
 So ordering : I, with leave of speech implored. 
 And humble deprecation, thus replied : 
 
 " Let not my words offend thee, heavenly power, 
 My Maker, be propitious while I speak. 
 Hast thou not made me here thy substitute, 
 And these inferior far beneath me set ? 
 Among unequals what society 
 Can sort, what harmony, or true delight? 
 Which must be mutual, in proportion due 
 Given and received ; but, in disparity 
 The one intense, the other still remiss 
 Cannot well suit with either, but soon prove 
 Tedious alike: of fellowship I speak 
 Such as I seek, fit to participate 
 All rational delight; wherein the brute 
 Cannot be human consort: they rejoice 
 Each with their kind, lion with lioness ; 
 So fitly them in pairs thou hast combined : 
 Much less can bird with beast, or fish with fowl 
 
Book VIII. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 61 
 
 So well converse, nor with the ox the ape ; 
 Worse then can man with beast, and least of all." 
 
 ' Whereto the Almighty answered, not displeased : 
 " A nice and subtle happiness, I see. 
 Thou to thyself proposest, in the choice 
 Of thy associates, Adam ! and wilt taste 
 No pleasure, though in pleasure, solitary. 
 What thinkest thou then of me, and this my state ? 
 Seem I to thee sufficiently possessed 
 Of happiness, or not ? who am alone 
 From all eternity ; for none I know 
 Second to me or like, equal much less. 
 How have I then with whom to hold converse. 
 Save with the creatures which I made, and those 
 To me inferior, infinite descents 
 Beneath what other creatures are to thee !*" 
 
 * He ceased ; I lowly answered : " To attaia 
 The highth and depth of thy eternal ways 
 All human thoughts come short, Supreme of things! 
 Thou in thyself art perfect, and in thee 
 Is no deficience found : not so is man, 
 But in degree ; the cause of his desire 
 By conversation with his like to help. 
 Or solace his defects. No need that thou 
 Shouldst propagate, already infinite ; 
 And through all numbers absolute, though one: 
 But man by number is to manifest 
 His single imperfection, and beget 
 Like of his like, his image multiplied, 
 In unity defective ; which requires 
 Collateral love, and dearest amity. 
 Thou in thy secrecy although alone, 
 Best with thyself accompanied, seekcst not 
 Social communication ; yet so pleased 
 Canst raise thy creature to what highth thou wilt 
 Of union or communion, deified : 
 I, by conversing, cannot these erect 
 From prone; nor in their ways complacence find." 
 Thus I emboldened spake, and freedom used 
 Permissive, and acceptance found ; which gained 
 This answer from the gracious voice divine : 
 
 " Thus far to try thee, Adam, I was pleased ; 
 And find thee knowing, not of beasts alone. 
 Which thou hast rightly named, but of thyself; 
 Expressing w-ell the spirit within thee free, 
 My image, not imparted to the brute : 
 Whose fellowship therefore unmeet for thee 
 Good reason was thou freely shouldst dislike; 
 And be so minded still : I, ere thou spakest, 
 Knew it not good for man to be alone ; 
 And no such company as then thou sawest 
 Intended thee ; for trial only brought. 
 To see how thou couldst judge of fit and meet : 
 What next I bring shall please thee, be assured. 
 Thy likeness, thy fit help, thy other self, 
 Thy wish exactly to thy heart's desire." 
 
 ' He ended, or I heard no more ; for now 
 My earthly by his heavenly overpowered. 
 Which it had long stood under, strained to the highth 
 In that celestial colloquy sublime. 
 As with an object that excels the sense 
 
 Dazzled and spent, sunk down, and sought repair 
 
 Of sleep, which instantly fell on me, called 
 
 By nature as in aid, and closed mine eyes. 
 
 Mine eyes he closed, but open left the cell 
 
 Of fancy, my internal sight ; by which. 
 
 Abstract as in a trance, methought I saw. 
 
 Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape 
 
 Still glorious before whom awake I stood : 
 
 Who stooping opened my left side, and took 
 
 From thence a rib, with cordial spirits warm, 
 
 And life-blood streaming fresh : wide was the wound. 
 
 But suddenly with flesh filled up and healed : 
 
 The rib he formed and fashioned with his hands ; 
 
 Under his forming hands a creature grew, 
 
 Man-like, but different sex ; so lovely fair. 
 
 That what seemed fair in all the world, seemed now 
 
 Mean, or in her summed up, in her contained 
 
 And in her looks ; which from that time infused 
 
 Sweetness into my heart unfelt before. 
 
 And into all things from her air inspired 
 
 The spirit of love and amorous delight. 
 
 She disappeared, and left me dark ; I waked 
 
 To find her, or for ever to deplore 
 
 Her loss, and other pleasures all abjure: 
 
 When out of hope, behold her, not far off, 
 
 Such as I saw her in my dream, adorned 
 
 With all that earth or heaven could bestow 
 
 To make her amiable ; on she came. 
 
 Led by her heavenly Maker, though unseen, 
 
 And guided by his voice; nor uninformed 
 
 Of nuptial sanctity, and marriage rites: 
 
 Grace was in all her steps, heaven in her eye, 
 
 In every gesture dignity and love. 
 
 I, overjoyed, could not forbear aloud : 
 
 " This turn hath made amends ; thou hast fulfilled 
 Thy words. Creator bounteous and benign. 
 Giver of all things fair! but fairest this 
 Of all thy gifts ! nor enviest. I now see 
 Bone of my bone, flesh of my tlesh, myself 
 Before me : Woman is her name ; of man 
 E.xtracted : for this cause he shall forego 
 Father and mother, and to his wife adhere; 
 And they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul." 
 
 ' She heard me thus; and though divinely brought. 
 Yet innocence, and virgin modesty. 
 Her virtue, and the conscience of her worth. 
 That would be wooed, and not unsought be won, 
 Not obvious, not obtrusive, but, retired. 
 The more desirable ; or, to say all. 
 Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought. 
 Wrought in her so, that, seeing me, she turned : 
 I followed her; she what was honour knew. 
 And with obsequious majesty approved 
 My pleaded reason. To the nuptial bower 
 I led her blushing like the morn : all heaven. 
 And happy constellations, on that hour 
 Shed their selectest influence ; the earth 
 Gave sign of gratulation, and each hill ; 
 Joyous the birds ; fresh gales and gentle airs 
 Whispered it to the woods, and from their wings 
 Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub, 
 

Book IX. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 And all the blest : stand fast ; to stand or fall 
 Free in thine own arbitrement it lies. 
 Perfect within, no outward aid require ; 
 And all temptation to transgress repel.' 
 
 So saying, be arose ; whom Adam thus 
 Followed with benediction. ' Since to part. 
 Go, bearenly guest, ethereal messenger. 
 
 Sent from wW 
 
 Gentle to me aad a&Ue kadi 
 Th J eondesceBfiMMi, and shall be 
 Wkb grateful mewnrj : tkoa to 
 Be good »d fiicadDj still, uri «A 
 So ported they, tbe amgd mf to 
 Fmm dM duck shade. 
 
 BOOK IX. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Sataa faaviaf cBBOH^omed flK enHi. viQi owditatod 
 
 Adam ooMoM oat, aBenioV 4tt 
 
 lothtobeflMoci 
 
 atloatyi ehh:^ . 
 
 all olfeer cROtoRo. Cvci wofcriai^ to 
 
 DottiDMiw: tlwKnHOI«oMRnkaalbvta«iH«ra 
 
 Toidofboth: GvcrMwkciMoitobriwMrtoaol 
 
 bolder, with 11UH17 wuea aid Hpoowook loioeei her al 
 
 impart tberraf to Adaoi or out; OtIoA bikf9 him «r the 
 
 pcrpMTaig Iwr hot, imi it u i, uo u a ah whf owo e e of towe. 
 
 tbecAdilhermrto 
 
 chaago 
 
 No more of talk where God or nrngii 
 
 With man, as wiih his friend, familiar m 
 
 To sit indulgent, and o ith him partake 
 
 Raral repast ; permitting him tke while 
 
 Venial dbooorw ooUoaed. I mam 
 
 Those notes to tragk ; lo«l iiiUoH, 
 
 Disloyal on the part of man, revolt 
 
 And disobedience : on tbe part of heaven 
 
 Now alienated, dtstanee aad d iitatte i. 
 
 Anger and jost rebuke, and jodgOKBt gives. 
 
 That brought into this work! a world of woe. 
 
 Sin and her shadow death, and miseij 
 
 Death's harbinger : sad lask, yet argoaseat 
 
 Not less but oMre heroic than the wvatk 
 
 Of stem Achilles on hb foe pursued 
 
 Thrice fugitive about Troy wall ; or ngo 
 
 Of Tumos for Lavinia disespovsed ; 
 
 Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so loog 
 
 Perple.\ed the Greek, and Cytherea's soa; 
 
 If answerable style I can obtain 
 
 Of my celestial patroness, who deigns 
 
 Her nightly visitation unimplored, 
 
 And dictates to me slumbenog; or inspires 
 
 Easy my unpremeditated verse: 
 
 Since first this subject for keraic 00)19 
 
 Pleased me loim^ cboosing', and beginning late ; 
 
 Not sedulous bj aatate to indite 
 
 Wars, hitherto the only ar^ment 
 
 Heroic deemed ; chief mastery to dissect 
 
 With loag aad tedasas Savoc &Ued kaig^ 
 
 In battles fei^ed ; the better ftotitade 
 
 Of patience and heroic martyrdom 
 
 I'^ttsoag ; or to describe races and aramcs. 
 
 Or tiltiag fomiture, imblaconed shields. 
 
 Intpreases 
 
 Bases aad 
 
 At joasta 
 
 Setwd apiakaDwiifc 
 
 IW sJaH of aitiiu. or 
 
 Not laat vUoB jaHy gives 
 
 Topcfloaaortopoea. JIe,or 
 
 Nor slaBod aor Kaiiioi, fc^ 
 
 Bcvaaas; saficieatof itself to raise 
 
 Tkot aase^ aaleao «a age too bte, or cold 
 
 CSaai^ or yean, doair raj iateaded w^ 
 
 DcfKssed; aad raack ihey raigr, if oB be   
 
 Not ken vrfcohriags it i^gMy to raj oar. 
 
 TW aaa was saak, aad after Imb dK star 
 Of Hespeias, vboee ofioe is ts 
 TwiHglit spoa tiie eartk, ^Mit 
 Twixt daj aad raglit, aad aoor fiara cad to 
 N%te^ Iwrai^lMflo had veiled Ae 
 WWa Satan, wko late led Vefara the daeMs 
 Of Gakiel oat of Edea, aow iBfoeoei 
 la raeditBted fraod apad arafiee, keat 
 Oaraaa^A aU a t t i oa,! 
 Of keovier oa UameU; fniltSB Rtaned. 
 By aigfci W led, aad at 
 
 SiaooHrid, 
 
 IfisoMraan 
 
 Tkat kf^ A«ir waldi 
 
 IWifaooof 
 
 WididaAaess: iknoedK 
 
 He uackd : loor taaes cnsmm tae ear 01 aogMt 
 
 Kara pole to pole tra^ 
 
 Oadwc^lMliTCftamel; oadoadtt 
 
 Fkaai eaknwDC or dMsroMC woAra, ay 
 
64 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book IX. 
 
 Found uususpected way. There was a place, 
 
 Now not, though sin, not time, first wrought the 
 
 change, 
 Where Tigris, at the foot of Paradise, 
 Into a gulf shot under ground, till part 
 Rose up a fountain by the tree of life : 
 In with the river sunk, and with it rose, 
 Satan, involved in rising mist ; then souglit 
 Where to lie hid ; sea he had searched, and land 
 From Eden over Pontus and the pool 
 Moeotis, up beyond the river Ob ; 
 Downward as far antarctic : and in length 
 West from Orontes to the ocean barred 
 At Darien ; thence to the land where flows 
 (jianges and Indus : thus the orb he roamed 
 With narrow search ; and with inspection deep 
 Considered every creature, which of all 
 Most opportune might serve his wiles ; and found 
 The serpent subtlest beast of all the iicld. 
 Him after long debate, irresolute 
 Of thoughts revolved, his final sentence chose 
 Fit vessel, fittest imp of fraud, in whom 
 To enter, and his dark suggestions hide 
 From sharpest sight : for, in the wily snake 
 Whatever sleights, none would suspicious mark, 
 As from his wit and native subtlety 
 Proceeding; which, in other beasts observed, 
 Doubt might beget of diabolic power 
 Active within, beyond the sense of brute. 
 Thus he resolved, but first from inward grief 
 His bursting passion into plaints thus poured : 
 
 ' O earth, how like to heaven, if not preferred 
 More justly, seat worthier of gods, as built 
 With second thoughts, reforming what was old ! 
 For what god, after better, worse would build ? 
 Terrestrial heaven, danced round by other heavens 
 That shine, yet bear their bright officious lamps. 
 Light above light, for thee alone as seems. 
 In thee concentring all their precious beams 
 Of sacred influence! As God in heaven 
 Is center, yet extends to all ; so thou. 
 Centering, receivest from all these orbs : in thee. 
 Not in themselves, all their known virtue appears 
 Productive in herb, plant, and nobler birth 
 Of creatures animate with gradual life 
 Of growth, sense, reason, all summed up in man. 
 With what delight could I have walked thee round. 
 If I could joy in aught, sweet interchange 
 Of hill, and valley, rivers, woods, and plains, 
 Nov/ land, now sea, and shores with forest crowned, 
 Rocks, dens, and caves ! But I in none of these 
 Find place or refuge ; and the more I see 
 Pleasures about me, so much more I feel 
 Torment within me, as from the hateful siege 
 Of contraries : all good to me becomes 
 Bane, and in heaven much worse would be my state. 
 But neither here seek I, no, nor in heaven 
 To dwell, unless by mastering heaven's Supreme ; 
 Nor hope to be myself less miserable 
 By what I seek, but others to make such 
 As I, though thereby worse to me redound : 
 
 For only in destroying I find ease 
 To my relentless thoughts; and, him destroyed, 
 Or won to what may work his utter loss. 
 For whom all this was made, all this will soon 
 Follow, as to him linked in weal or woe; 
 In woe then, that destruction wide may range: 
 To me shall be the glory sole among 
 The infernal powers, in one day to have marred 
 What he. Almighty styled, six nights and days 
 Continued making; and who knows how long 
 Before had been contriving.'' though perhaps 
 Not longer than since I, in one night, freed 
 From servitude inglorious well nigh half 
 The angelic name, and thinner left the throng 
 Of his adorers : he, to be avenged, 
 And to repair his numbers thus impaired. 
 Whether such virtue spent of old now failed 
 More angels to create, if they at least 
 Are his created, or, to spite us more. 
 Determined to advance into our room 
 A creature formed of earth, and him endow, 
 Exalted from so base original. 
 With heavenly spoils, our spoils : what he decreed, 
 He effected ; man he made, and for him built 
 Magnificent this world, and earth his seat. 
 Him lord pronounced ; and, O indignity ! 
 Subjected to his service angel-wings, 
 And flaming ministers to watch and tend 
 Their earthly charge : of these the vigilance 
 I dread ; and, to elude, thus wrapt in mist 
 Of midnight vapour glide obscure, and pry 
 In every bush and brake, where hap may find 
 The serpent sleeping ; in whose mazy folds 
 To hide me, and the dark intent I bring. 
 O foul descent ! that I, who erst contended 
 With gods to sit the highest, am now constrained 
 Into a beast; and, mixed with bestial slime, 
 This essence to incarnate and imbrute. 
 That to the highth of deity aspired ! 
 But what will not ambition and revenge 
 Descend to ? Who aspires, must down as low 
 As high he soared ; obnoxious, first or last. 
 To basest things. Revenge, at first though sweet. 
 Bitter ere long, back on itself recoils : 
 Let it ; I reck not, so it light well aimed, 
 Since higher I fall short, on him who next 
 Provokes my envy, this new favourite 
 Of heaven, this man of clay, son of despite. 
 Whom, us the more to spite, his Maker raised 
 From dust : spite then with spite is best repaid.' 
 So saying, through each thicket dank or dry. 
 Like a black mist low-creeping, he held on 
 His midnight search, where soonest he might find 
 The serpent : him fast sleeping soon he found 
 In labyrinth of many a round self-rolled. 
 His head the midst, well stored with subtle wiles : 
 Not yet in horrid shade or dismal den. 
 Nor nocent yet ; but, on the grassy herb. 
 Fearless unfeared he slept : in at his mouth 
 The devil entered ; and his brutal sense. 
 In heart or head, possessing, soon inspired 
 
Book IX. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 65 
 
 With act iutellig"ential ; but his sleep 
 
 Disturbed not, waiting- close the approach of morn. 
 
 'Now, when as sacred light began to dawn 
 In Eden on the humid flowers, that breathed 
 Their morning incense, when all things, that breathe. 
 From the earth's great altar send up silent praise 
 To the Creator, and his nostrils fill 
 With grateful smell, forth came the human pair 
 And joined their vocal worship to the quire 
 Of creatures wanting voice; that done, partake 
 The season, prime for sweetest scents and airs : 
 Then commune, how that day they best may ply 
 Their growing work : for much their work outgrew 
 The hands' dispatch of two gardening so wide. 
 And Eve first to her husband thus began : 
 
 ' Adam, well may we labour still to dress 
 This garden, still to tend plant, herb, and flower, 
 Our pleasant task enjoined ; but till more hands 
 Aid us, the work under our labour grows, 
 Luxurious by restraint ; what we by day 
 Lop overgrown, or prune, or prop, or bind. 
 One night or two with wanton growth derides 
 Tending to wild. Thou therefore now advise. 
 Or hear what to my mind first thoughts present : 
 Let us divide our labours ; thou, where choice 
 Leads thee, or where most needs, whether to wind 
 The woodbine round this arbour, or direct 
 The clasping ivy wliere to climb; while I, 
 In yonder spring of roses intermixed 
 With myrtle, find what to redress till noon : 
 For, while so near each other thus all day 
 Our task we choose, what wonder if so near 
 Looks intervene and smiles, or object new 
 Casual discourse draw on ; which intermits 
 Our day's work, brought to little, though begun 
 Early, and the hour of supper comes unearned .>*' 
 
 To whom mild answer Adam thus returned : 
 * Sole Eve, associate sole, to me beyond 
 Compare above all living creatures dear ! 
 Well has tliou motioned, well thy thoughts employed, 
 How we might best fulfil the work which here 
 God hath assigned us ; nor of me shah pass 
 Unpraised : for nothing lovelier can be found 
 In woman, than to study household good, 
 And good works in her husband to promote. 
 Yet not so strictly hath our Lord imposed 
 Labour, as to debar us when we need 
 Refreshment, whether food, or talk between, 
 Food of the mind, or this sweet intercourse 
 Of looks and smiles ; for smiles from reason flow, 
 To brute denied, and are of love the food ; 
 Love, not the lowest end of human life. 
 For not to irksome toil, but to delight. 
 He made us. and delight to reason joined. 
 These paths and bowers doubt not but our joint hands 
 Will keep from wilderness with ease, as wide 
 As we need walk, till younger hands ere long 
 Assist us : but if much converse perhaps 
 Thee satiate, to short absence I could yield : 
 For solitude sometimes is best society. 
 And short retirement urges sweet return. 
 
 *F 
 
 But other doubt possesses me ; lest harm 
 
 Befall thee severed from me ; for thou knowest 
 
 What hath been warned us, what malicious foe 
 
 Envying our happiness, and of his own 
 
 Despairing, seeks to work us woe and shame 
 
 By &]y assault; and somewhere nigh at hand 
 
 Watches, no doubt, with greedy hope to find 
 
 His wish and best advantage, us asunder; 
 
 Hopeless to circumvent us joined, where each 
 
 To other speedy aid might lend at need : 
 
 Whether his first design be to withdraw 
 
 Our fealty from God, or to disturb 
 
 Conjugal love, than which periiaps no bliss 
 
 Enjoyed by us excites his envy more : 
 
 Or this, or worse, leave not the faithful side 
 
 That gave thee being, still shades thee, and protects. 
 
 The wife, where danger or dishonour lurks, 
 
 Safest and seemliest by her husband stays. 
 
 Who guards her, or with her the worst endures.' 
 
 To whom the virgin majesty of Eve, 
 As one who loves and some unkindness meets, 
 With sweet austere composure thus replied : 
 
 ' Offspring of heaven and earth, and all earth's 
 lord! 
 That such an enemy we have, who seeks 
 Our ruin, both by thee informed I learn, 
 And from the parting angel overlieard 
 As in a shady nook I stood behind. 
 Just then returned at shut of evening flowers. 
 But that thou sbouldst my firmness therefore doubt 
 To God or thee, because we have a foe 
 May tempt it, I expected not to hear. 
 His violence thou fearest not, being such 
 As we, not capable of death or pain, 
 Can either not receive, or can repel. 
 His fraud is then thy fear ; which plain infers 
 Thy equal fear, that my firm faith and love 
 Can by his fraud be shaken or seduced : 
 Thoughts, which how found they harbour in thy 
 
 breast, 
 Adam, mis-thought of her to thee so dear.'" 
 
 To whom with healing words Adam replied : 
 ' Daughter of God and man, immortal Eve ! 
 For such thou art ; from sin and blame entire : 
 Not diffident of thee do I dissuade 
 Thy absence from my sight, but to avoid 
 The attempt itself, intended by our foe. 
 For he who tempts, though in vain, at least asperses 
 The tempted with dishonour foul ; supposed 
 Not incorruptible of faith, not proof 
 Against temptation : thou thyself with scorn 
 And anger wouldst resent the offered wrong, 
 Though ineff'ectual found : misdeem not then. 
 If such arffront I labour to avert 
 From thee alone, which on us both at once 
 The enemy, though bold, will hardly dare ; 
 Or daring, first on me the assault shall light. 
 Nor thou his malice and false guile contemn : 
 Subtle he needs must be, who could seduce 
 Angels ; nor think superfluous others' aid. 
 I, from the influence of thy looks, receive 
 
6« 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book IX. 
 
 Access in every virtue; in thy sight 
 More wise, more watchful, stronger, if need were • 
 Of outward strength ; while shame, thou looking on, 
 Shame to he overcome or over-reached. 
 Would utmost vigour raise, and raised unite. 
 Why shouldst not thou like sense within thee feel 
 When I am present, and thy trial choose 
 With me, best witness of thy virtue tried ?' 
 
 So spake domestic Adam in his care 
 And matrimonial love ; but Eve, who thought 
 Less attributed to hy faith sincere. 
 Thus her reply with accent sweet renewed : 
 
 ' If this be our condition, thus to dwell 
 In narrow circuit straitened by a foe, 
 Subtle or violent, we not endued 
 Single with like defence, wherever met ; 
 How are we happy, still in fear of harm ? 
 But harm precedes not sin : only our foe, 
 Tempting, affronts us with his foul esteem 
 Of our integrity : his foul esteem 
 Sticks no dishonour on our front, but turns 
 Foul on himself; then wherefore shunned or feared 
 By us ? who rather double honour gain 
 From his surmise proved false, find peace within, 
 Favour from heaven, our witness, from the event. 
 And what is faith, love, virtue, unassayed 
 Alone, without exterior help sustained ? 
 Let us not then suspect our happy state 
 Left so imperfect by the Maker wise, 
 4 As not secure to single or combined. 
 Frail is our happiness, if this be so ; 
 And Eden were no Eden, thus exposed.' 
 
 To whom thus Adam fervently replied : 
 ' O woman, best are all things as the will 
 Of God ordained them ; his creating hand 
 Nothing imperfect or deficient left 
 Of all that he created, much less man, 
 Or augljt that might his happy state secure, 
 Secure from outward force ; within himself 
 The danger lies, yet lies within his power: 
 Against his will he can receive no harm. 
 But God left free the will ; for what obeys 
 Reason, is free ; and reason he made right, 
 But bid her well'beware, and still erect; 
 Lest, by some fair-appearing good surprised. 
 She dictate false; and misinform the will 
 To do what God expressly hath forbid. 
 Not then mistrust, but tender love, enjoins. 
 That I should mind thee oft ; and mind thou me. 
 Firm we subsist, yet possible to swerve ; 
 Since reason not impossibly may meet 
 Some specious object by the foe suborned. 
 And fall into deception unaware. 
 Not keeping strictest watch, as she was warned. 
 Seek not temptation then, which to avoid 
 Were better, and most likely if from me 
 Thou sever not : trial will come unsought. 
 Wouldst thou approve thy constancy, approve 
 First thy obedience ; the other who can know, 
 Not seeing thee attempted, who attest? 
 But, if thou think, trial unsought may find 
 
 Us both securer than thus warned thou seemest, 
 
 Go ; for thy stay, not free, absents thee more ; 
 
 Go in thy native innocence, rely 
 
 On what thou hast of virtue ; summon all ! 
 
 For God towards thee hath done his part, do thine.' 
 
 So spake the patriarch of mankind ; but Eve 
 Persisted ; yet submiss, though last, replied : 
 
 ' With thy permission then, and thus forewarned 
 Chiefly by what thy own last reasoning words 
 Touch only ; that our trial, when least sought. 
 May find us both perhaps far less prepared ; 
 The willinger I go, nor much expect 
 A foe so proud will first the weaker seek ; 
 So bent, the more shall shame him his repulse.' 
 
 Thus saying, from her husband's hand her hand 
 Soft she withdrew, and, like a wood-nymph light. 
 Oread or Dryad, or of Delia's train, 
 Betook her to the groves ; but Delia's self 
 In gait surpassed, and goddess-like deport. 
 Though not as she with bow and quiver armed, 
 But with such gardening-tools as art yet rude, 
 Guiltless of fire, had formed, or angels brought. 
 To Pales, or Pomona, thus adorned, 
 Likest she seemed, Pomona when she fled 
 Vertumnus, or to Ceres in her prime, 
 Yet virgin of Proserpina from Jove. 
 Her long with ardent look his eye pursued 
 Delighted, but desiring more her stay. 
 Oft he to her his charge of quick return 
 Repeated : she to him as oft engaged 
 To be returned by noon amid the bower. 
 And all things in best order to invite 
 Noontide repast, or afternoon's repose. 
 O much deceived, much failing, hapless Eve, 
 Of thy presumed return ! event perverse ! 
 Thou never from that hour in Paradise 
 Foundest either sweet repast, or sound repose; 
 Such ambush, hid among sweet flowers and shades, 
 Waited with hellish rancour imminent 
 To intercept thy way, or send thee back 
 Despoiled of innocence, of faith, of bliss ! 
 For now, and since first break of dawn, the fiend. 
 Mere serpent in appearance, forth was come ; 
 And on his quest, where likeliest he might find 
 The only two of mankind, but in them 
 The whole included race, his purposed prey. 
 In bower and field he sought where any tuft 
 Of grove or garden plot more pleasant lay. 
 Their tendance, or plantation for delight; 
 By fountain or by shady rivulet 
 He sought them both, but wished his hap might find 
 Eve separate ; he wished, but not with hope 
 Of what so seldom chanced ; when to his wish. 
 Beyond his hope, Eve separate he spies. 
 Veiled in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood, 
 Half spied, so thick the roses blushing round 
 About her glowed, oft stooping to support 
 Each flower of tender stalk, whose head, though gay 
 Carnation, purple, azure, or specked with gold. 
 Hung drooping unsustained ; them she upstays 
 Gently with myrtle band, mindless the while 
 
Book IX. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 (®t 
 
 Herself, though fairest unsupported flower. 
 From her best prop so far, and storm so niffh. 
 Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed 
 Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm ; 
 Then voluble and bold, now hid, now seen, 
 Among thick-woven arborets, and flowers 
 Imbordered on each bank, the hand of Eve: 
 Spot more delicious than those gardens feigned 
 Or of revived Adonis, or renowned 
 Alcinous, host of old Laertes' son ; 
 Or that, not mystic, where the sapient king 
 Held dalliance with his fair Egyptian spouse. 
 Much he the place admired, the person more. 
 As one who long in populous city pent. 
 Where houses thick and sewers annoy the air, 
 Forth issuing on a summer's morn, to breathe 
 Among the pleasant villages and farms 
 Adjoined, from each thing met conceives delight, 
 The smell of grain, or tedded grass, or kine, 
 Or dairy, each rural sight, each rural sound ; 
 If chance, with nymph-like step, fair virgin pass, 
 What pleasing seemed, for her now pleases more ; 
 She most, and in her look sums ail delight: 
 Such pleasure took the serpent to behold 
 This flowery plat, the sweet recess of Eve 
 Thus early, thus alone : her heavenly form 
 Angelic, but more soft, and feminine. 
 Her graceful innocence, her every air 
 Of gesture, or least action, overawed 
 His malice, and with rapine sweet bereaved 
 His fierceness of the fierce intent it brought: 
 That space the evil one abstracted stood 
 From his own evil, and for the time remained 
 Stupidly good ; of enmity disarmed, 
 Of guile, of hate, of envy, of revenge. 
 But the hot hell that always in him bums 
 Though in mid heaven, soon ended his delight, 
 And tortures him now more, the more he sees 
 Of pleasure, not for him ordained : then soon 
 Fierce hate he recollects, and all his thoughts 
 Of mischief, gratulating, thus excites: 
 
 ' Thoughts, whither have ye led me ? with what 
 sweet 
 Compulsion thus transported, to forget 
 What hither brought us ? hate, not love ; nor hope 
 Of Paradise for hell, hope here to taste 
 Of pleasure; but all pleasure to destroy. 
 Save what is in destroying; other joy 
 To me is lost. Then, let me not let pass 
 Occasion which now smiles ; behold alone 
 The woman, opportune to all attempts. 
 Her husband, for I view far round, not nigh. 
 Whose higher intellectual more I shun. 
 And strength, of courage haughty, and of limb 
 Heroic built, though of terrestrial mould ; 
 Foe not informidable ! exempt from wound, 
 I not; so much hath hell debased, and pain 
 Enfeebled me, to what I was in heaven. 
 She fair, divinely fair, fit love for gods ! 
 Not terrible, though terror be in love 
 And beauty, not approached by stronger hate, 
 F 2 
 
 Hate stronger, under show of love well feigned ; 
 The way which to her ruin now I tend.' 
 
 So spake the enemy of mankind enclosed 
 In serpent, inmate bad ! and toward Eve 
 Addressed his way : not with indented wave. 
 Prone on the ground, as since ; but on his rear, 
 Circular base of rising folds, towered 
 Fold above fold, a surging maze ! his head 
 Crested aloft, and carbuncle his eyes ; 
 With burnished neck of verdant gold, erect 
 Amidst his circling spires, that on the grass 
 Floated redundant: pleasing was his shape 
 And lovely: never since of serpent-kind 
 Lovelier, not those that in lUyria changed 
 Hermione and Cadmus, or the god 
 In Epidaurus ; nor to which transformed 
 Animonian Jove, or Capitoline was seen ; 
 He ivith Olympias ; this with her who bore 
 Scipio, the highth of Rome. With tract oblique 
 At first, as one who sought access, but feared 
 To interrupt, side-long he works his way. 
 As when a ship, by skilful steersman wrought 
 Nigh river's mouth or foreland, where the wind 
 Veers oft, as oft so steers, and shifts her sail : 
 So varied he, and of his tortuous train 
 Curled many a wanton wreath in sight of Eve, 
 To lure her eye ; she, busied, heard the sound 
 Of rustling leaves, but minded not, as used 
 To such disport before her through the field, 
 From every beast ; more duteous at her call, 
 Than at Circean call the herd disguised. 
 He, bolder now, uncalled before her stood, 
 But as in gaze admiring : oft he bowed 
 His turret crest, and sleek enamelled neck. 
 Fawning; and licked the ground whereon she trod. 
 His gentle dumb expression turned at length 
 The eye of Eve, to mark his play ; he, glad 
 Of her attention gained, with serpent-tongue 
 Organic, or impulse of vocal air. 
 His fraudulent temptation thus began : 
 
 ' Wonder not, sovran mistress, if perhaps 
 Thou canst, who art sole wonder! much less araa 
 Thy looks, the heaven of mildness, with disdain, 
 Displeased that I approach thee thus, and gaze 
 Insatiate ; I thus single ; nor have feared 
 Thy awful brow, more awful thus retired. 
 Fairest resemblance of thy Maker fair. 
 Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine 
 By gift, and thy celestial beauty adore 
 With ravishment beheld ! there best beheld, 
 Where universally admired ; but here 
 In this enclosure wild, these beasts among, 
 Beholders rude, and shallow to discern 
 Half what in thee is fair, one man except, 
 Who sees thee ? (and what is one ?) who should be seen 
 A goddess among gods, adored and served 
 By angels, numberless, thy daily train.' 
 
 So glozed the tempter, and his proem tuned : 
 Into the heart of Eve his words made way. 
 Though at the voice much marvelling ; at length. 
 Not unamazed, she thus in answer spake : 
 
68 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book IX. 
 
 ' What may this mean ? language of man pro- 
 nounced 
 By tongue of brute, and human sense expressed ? 
 The first, at least, of these I thought denied 
 To beasts ; whom God, on their creation-day, 
 Created mute to all articulate sound : 
 The latter I demur ; for in their looks 
 Much reason, and in their actions, oft appears. 
 Thee, serpent, subtlest beast of all the field 
 I knew, but not with human voice endued ; 
 Redouble then tiiis miracle, and say, 
 How earnest thuu speakable of mute, and how 
 To me so friendly grown above the rest 
 Of brutal kind, that daily are in sight ? 
 Say, for such wonder claims attention due.' 
 
 To whom the guileful tempter thus replied : 
 ' Empress of this fair world, resplendent Eve! 
 Easy to me it is to tell thee all 
 What thou commandest ; and right thou shouldst be 
 
 obeyed : 
 I was at first as other beasts that graze 
 The trodden herb, of abject thoughts and low. 
 As was my food ; nor aught but food discerned 
 Or sex, and apprehended nothing high : 
 Till, on a day roving the field, I chanced 
 A goodly tree far distant to behold 
 Loaden with fruit of fairest colours mixed. 
 Ruddy and gold : I nearer drew to gaze : 
 When from the boughs a savoury odour blown, 
 Grateful to appetite, more pleased my sense 
 Than smell of sweetest fennel, or the teats 
 Of ewe or goat dropping with milk at even, 
 Unsucked of lamb or kid, that tend their play. 
 To satisfy tlie sharp desire I had 
 Of tasting those fair apples, I resolved 
 Not to defer ; hunger and thirst at once, 
 Powerful persuaders, quickened at the scent 
 Of that alluring fruit, urged me so keen. 
 About the mossy trunk I wound nie soon ; 
 For, high from ground, the branches would require 
 Thy utmost reach or Adam's : round the tree 
 All other beasts that saw, with like desire 
 Longing and envying stood, but could not reach. 
 Amid the tree now got, where plenty hung 
 Tempting so nigh, to pluck and eat my fill 
 I spared not ; for, such pleasure till that hour. 
 At feed or fountain, never had I found. 
 Sated at length, ere long I might perceive 
 Strange alteration in me, to degree 
 Of reason in my inward powers ; and speech 
 Wanted not long; though to this shape retained. 
 Thenceforth to speculations high or deep 
 I turned my thoughts, and with capacious mind 
 Considered all thingfs visible in heaven. 
 Or earth, or middle; all things fair and good : 
 But all that fair and good in thy divine 
 Semblance, and in thy beauty's heavenly ray 
 United I beheld ; no fair to thine 
 Equivalent or second ! which compelled 
 Me thus, though importune perhaps, to come 
 And gaze, and worship thee of right declared 
 
 Sovran of creatures, universal dame!' 
 
 So talked the spirited sly snake ; and Eve, 
 Yet more amazed, unwary thus replied : 
 
 ' Serpent, thy overpraising leaves in doubt 
 The virtue of that fruit, in thee first proved : 
 But say, where grows the tree ? from hence how far? 
 For many are tlic trees of God that grow 
 In Paradise, and various, yet unknown 
 To us ; in such abundance lies our choice, 
 As leaves a greater store of fruit untouched. 
 Still hanging incorruptible, till men 
 Grow up to their provision, and more hands 
 Help to disburden nature of her birth.' 
 
 To whom the wily adder, blithe and glad : 
 ' Empress, the way is ready, and not long ; 
 Beyond a row of myrtles, on a flat, 
 P'ast by a fountain, one small thicket past 
 Of blowing myrrh and balm : if thou accept 
 My conduct, I can bring thee thither soon.' 
 
 ' Lead then,' said Eve. He, leading, swiftly rolled 
 In tangles, and made intricate seem straight. 
 To mischief swift. Hope elevates, and joy 
 Brightens his crest. As when a wandering fire, 
 Compact of unctuous vapour, which the night 
 Condenses, and the cold environs round, 
 Kindled through agitation to a flame, 
 Which oft, they say, some evil spirit attends. 
 Hovering and blazing with delusive light. 
 Misleads the amazed night-wanderer from his way 
 To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool ; 
 There swallowed up and lost, from succour far : 
 So glistered the dire snake, and into fraud 
 Led Eve, our credulous mother, to the tree 
 Of prohibition, root of all our woe ; 
 Which when she saw, thus to her guide she spake: 
 
 ' Serpent, we might have spared our coming hither. 
 Fruitless to me, though fruit be here to excess, 
 The credit of whose virtue rest with thee ; 
 Wondrous indeed, if cause of such effects. 
 But of this tree we may not taste nor touch ; 
 God so commanded, and left that command 
 Sole daughter of his voice : the rest, we live 
 Law to ourselves ; our reason is our law.' 
 
 To whom the tempter guilefully replied : 
 ' Indeed ! hath God then said that of the fruit 
 Of all these garden-trees ye shall not eat. 
 Yet lords declared of all in earth or air .'" 
 
 'To whom thus Eve, yet sinless : Of the fruit 
 Of each tree in the garden we may eat; 
 But of the fruit of this fair tree amidst 
 The garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat 
 Thereof, nor shall ye touch it, lest ye die.' 
 
 She scarce had said, though brief, when now more bold 
 The tempter, but with show of zeal and love 
 To man, and indignation at his wrong. 
 New part puts on ; and as to passion moved, 
 Fluctuates disturbed, yet comely and in act 
 Raised, as of some great matter to begin. 
 As when of old some orator renowned, 
 In Athens or free Rome, where eloquence 
 Flourished, since mute to some great cause addressed, 
 
Book IX. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 69 
 
 Stood in himself collected; while each part, 
 Motion, each act, won audience ere the tongue ; 
 Sometimes in hig'hth heg-an, as no delay 
 Of preface brooking-, throug^h his zeal of rig^ht: 
 So standing-, moving-, or to highth up-g^rowu, 
 The tempter, all impassioned, thus began : 
 
 * sacred, wise, and wisdom-jiving- plant, 
 Mother of science ! now I feel thy jwwer 
 Within me clear; not only to discern 
 Things in their causes, but to trace the ways 
 Of hig-hest agents, deemed however wise. 
 Queen of this universe ! do not believe 
 Those rig-id threats of death : ye shall not die ; 
 How should you ? by the fruit .^ it gfives you life 
 To knowledge ; by the threatener .'' look on me, 
 Me, who have touched and tasted ; yet both live, 
 And life more perfect have attained than fate 
 Meant me, by venturing higher than my lot. 
 Shall that be shut to man, which to the beast 
 Is open ? or will God incense his ire 
 For such a i)etty trespass ? and not praise 
 Rather your dauntless virtue, whom the pain 
 Of death denounced, whatever thing death be. 
 Deterred not from achieving what might lead 
 To happier life, knowledge of good and evil; 
 Of good, how just ? of evil, if what is evil 
 Be real, why not known, since easier shunned ? 
 God therefore cannot hurt ye, and be just; 
 Not just, not God ; not feared then, nor obeyed : 
 Your fear itself of death removes the fear. 
 Why then was this forbid ? Why, but to awe ? 
 Why, but to keep ye low and ignorant. 
 His worshippers ? He knows that in the day 
 Ye eat thereof, your eyes that seem so clear, 
 Yet are but dim, shall presently be then 
 Opened and cleared, and ye shall be as gods, 
 Knowing both good and evil, as they know. 
 That ye shall be as gods, since I as man, 
 Internal man, is but proportion meet; 
 I, of brute, human ; ye, of human, gods. 
 So ye shall die perhaps, by putting off 
 Human, to put on gods ; death to be wished, 
 Though threatened, which no worse than this can bring. 
 And what are gods, that man may not become 
 As they, participating god-like food ? 
 The gods are first, and that advantage use 
 On our belief, that all from them proceeds : 
 I question it; for this fair earth I see. 
 Warmed by the sun, producing every kind ; 
 Them, nothing: if they all things, who enclosed 
 Knowledge of good and evil in this tree. 
 That whoso eats thereof, forthwith attains 
 Wisdom without their leave ? and wherein lies 
 The offence, that man should thus attain to know ? 
 What can your knowledge hurt him, or this tree 
 Impart against his will, if all be his ? 
 Or is it envy ? and can envy dwell 
 In heavenly breasts ? These, these, and many more 
 Causes import your need of this fair fruit. 
 Goddess humane, reach then, and freely taste.' 
 
 He ended ; and his words, replete with guile, 
 
 Into her heart too easy entrance won : 
 
 Fixed on the fruit she gazed, which to behold 
 
 Might tempt alone ; and in her ears the sound 
 
 Yet rung of his persuasive words, impregned 
 
 With reason, to her seeming, and with truth : 
 
 Meanwhile the hour of noon drew on, and waked 
 
 An eager appetite, raised by the smell 
 
 So savoury of that fruit, which with desire, 
 
 Inclinable now grown to touch or taste, 
 
 Solicited her longing eye ; yet first 
 
 Pausing a while, thus to herself she mused : 
 
 ' Great are thy virtues, doubtless, best of fruits, 
 Though kept from man, and worthy to be admired ; 
 Whose taste, too long forborn, at first assay 
 Gave elocution to the mute, and taught 
 The tongue not made for speech to speak thy praise. 
 Thy praise he also, who forbids thy use. 
 Conceals not from us, naming thee the tree 
 Of knowledge, knowledge both of good and evil; 
 Foribids us then to taste! but his forbidding 
 Commends thee more, while it infers the good 
 By thee communicated, and our want: 
 For good unknown sure is not had ; or, had 
 And yet unknown, is as not had at all. 
 In plain then, what forbids he but to know. 
 Forbids us good, forbids us to be wise? 
 Such prohibitions bind not. But, if death 
 Binds us with after-bands, what profits then 
 Our inward freedom? In the day we eat 
 Of tliis fair fruit, our doom is, we shall die ! 
 How dies the serpent? he hath eaten and lives. 
 And knows, and speaks, and reasons, and discerns. 
 Irrational till then. For us alone 
 Was death invented ? or to us denied 
 This intellectual food, for beasts reserved ? 
 For beasts it seems: yet that one beast which first 
 Hath tasted envies not, but brings with joy 
 The good befallen him, author unsuspect. 
 Friendly to man, far from deceit or guile. 
 What fear I then ? rather, what know to fear 
 Under this ignorance of good or evil. 
 Of God or death, of law or penalty ? 
 Here grows the cure of all, this fruit divine, 
 Fair to the eye, inviting to the taste. 
 Of virtue to make wise : what hinders then 
 To reach, and feed at once both body and mind ?' 
 
 So saying, her rash hand in evil hour 
 Forth reaching to the fruit, she plucked, she ate ! 
 Earth felt the wound, and nature from her seat. 
 Sighing through all her works, gave signs of woe, 
 That all was lost. Back to the thicket slunk 
 The guilty serpent; and well might; for Eve, 
 Intent now wholly on her taste, nought else 
 Regarded ; such delight till then, as seemed. 
 In fruit she never tasted, whether true 
 Or fancied so, through expectation high 
 Of knowledge; nor was godhead from her thought. 
 Greedily she engorged without restraint. 
 And knew not eating death : satiate at length, 
 And heightened as with wine, jocund and boon, 
 Thus to herself she pleasingly began : 
 
70 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book IX. 
 
 ' O sovran, virtuous, precious of all trees 
 In Paradise! of operation blest 
 To sapience, hitherto obscured, infamed, 
 And thy fair fruit let hang, as to no end 
 Created ; but henceforth my early care, 
 Not without song, each n)ornin<<;', and due praise, 
 Shall tend thee, and the fertile burden ease 
 Of thy full branches offered free to all; 
 Till, dieted by thee, I grow mature 
 In knowledge, as the gods, who all things know ; 
 Though others envy what tliey cannot give: 
 For, had the gift been theirs, it had not here 
 Thus grown. Experience, next, to thee I owe, 
 Best guide : not following thee, I had remained 
 In ignorance ; thou openest wisdom's way, 
 And givest access, though secret she retire. 
 And I perhaps am secret : heaven is high, 
 High, and remote to see from thence distinct 
 Each thing on earth ; and other care perhaps 
 May have diverted from continual watch 
 Our great Forbidder, safe with all bis spies 
 About him. But to Adam in what sort 
 Shall I appear.^ shall I to him make known 
 As yet my change, and give him to partake 
 Full happiness with me ; or rather not, 
 But keep the odds of knowledge in my power 
 Witiiout copartner? so to add what wants 
 In female sex, the more to draw his love. 
 And render me more equal ; and perhaps, 
 A thing not undesirable, sometime 
 Superior ; for, inferior, who is free ? 
 This may be well : but what if God have seen, 
 And death ensue ? then I shall be no more ! 
 And Adam, wedded to another Eve, 
 Shall live with her enjoying, I extinct ; 
 A death to think ! Confirmed then I resolve, 
 Adam shall share with me in bliss or woe : 
 So dear I love him, that with him all deaths 
 I could endure, without him live no life.' 
 
 So saying, from the tree her step she turned ; 
 But first low reverence done, as to the Power 
 That dwelt within, whose presence had infused 
 Into the plant sciential sap, derived 
 From nectar, drink of gods. Adam the while 
 Waiting desirous her return, had wove 
 Of choicest flowers a garland, to adorn 
 Her tresses, and her rural labours crown ; 
 A» reapers oft are wont their harvest queen. 
 Great joy he promised to his thoughts, and new 
 Solace in her return, so long delaj'ed : 
 Yet oft his heart, divine of something ill. 
 Misgave him ; he the faltering measure felt; 
 And forth to meet her went, the way she took 
 That mom when first they parted : by the tree 
 Of knowledge he must pass ; there he her met, 
 Scarce from the tree returning ; in her hand 
 A bough of fairest fruit, that downy smiled. 
 New gathered, and ambrosial smell diffused. 
 To bim she hasted ; in her face excuse 
 Came prologue, and apology too prompt ; 
 Which, with bland words at will, she thus addressed : 
 
 ' Hast thou not wondered, Adam, at my stay ? 
 Thee I have missed, and thought it long, deprived 
 Thy presence ; agony of love till now 
 Not felt, nor shall be twice ; for never more 
 Mean I to try, what rash untried I sought. 
 The pain of absence from thy sight. But strange 
 Hath been the cause, and wonderful to hear :' 
 This tree is not, as we are told, a tree 
 Of danger tasted, nor to evil unknown 
 Opening the way, but of divine effect 
 To open eyes, and make them gods who taste ; 
 And hath been tasted such : the serpent wise. 
 Or not restrained as we, or not obeying, 
 Hath eaten of the fruit ; and is become. 
 Not dead, as we are threatened, but thenceforth 
 Endued with human voice and human souse 
 Reasoning to admiration ; and with me 
 Persuasively hath so prevailed, that I 
 Have also tasted, and have also found 
 The effects to correspond : opener mine eyes 
 Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart. 
 And growing up to godhead ; which for thee 
 Chiefly I sought, without thee can despise. 
 For bliss, as thou hast part, to me is bliss ; 
 Tedious, unshared with thee, and odious soon. 
 Thou therefore also taste, that equal lot 
 May join us, equal joy, as equal love ; 
 Lest, thou not tasting, different degree 
 Disjoin us, and I then too late renounce 
 Deity for thee, when fate will not permit.' 
 
 Thus Eve with countenance blithe her story told ; 
 But in her cheek distemper flushing glowed. 
 On the other side, Adam, soon as he heard 
 The fatal trespass done by Eve, amazed, 
 Astonied stood and blank, while horror chill 
 Ran through his veins, and all his joints relaxed ; 
 From his slack hand the garland wreathed for Eve 
 Down dropt, and all the faded roses shed ; 
 Speechless he stood and pale, till thus at length 
 First to himself he inward silence broke: 
 
 ' O fairest of creation, last and best 
 Of all God's works, creature in whom excelled 
 Whatever can to sight or thought be formed. 
 Holy, divine, good, amiable, or sweet! 
 How art thou lost ! how on a sudden lost, 
 Defaced, deflowered, and now to death devote ! 
 Rather, how hast thou yielded to transgress 
 The strict forbiddance, how to violate 
 The sacred fruit forbidden ? Some cursed fraud 
 Of enemy hath beguiled thee, yet unknown. 
 And me with thee hath ruined ; for with thee 
 Certain my resolution is to die : 
 How can I live without thee ? how forego 
 Thy sweet converse, and love so dearly joined, 
 To live again in these wild woods forlorn ? 
 Should God create another Eve, and I 
 Another rib afford, yet loss of thee 
 Would never from my heart : no, no ! I feci 
 The link of nature draw me; flesh of flesh. 
 Bone of my bone thou art, and from thy state 
 Mine never shall be parted, bliss or woe.' 
 
Book IX. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 71 
 
 So having- said, as one from sad dismay 
 Recomforted, and after tliouofhts disturbed 
 Submitting' to what seemed remediless, 
 Thus in calm mood bis words to Eve he turned : 
 
 'Bold deed thou hast presumed, adventurous Eve, 
 And peril g'reat provoked, who thus hast dared, 
 Had it been only covetinff to eye 
 That sacred fruit, sacred to abstinence, 
 Much more to taste it under ban to touch. 
 But past who can recall, or done undo.'' 
 Not God omnipotent, nor fate ; yet so 
 Perhaps thou shalt not die, perhaps the fact 
 Is not so heinous now, foretasted fruit. 
 Profaned first by the serpent, by him first 
 Made common, and unhallowed, ere our taste : 
 Nor yet on him found deadly ; he yet lives ; 
 Lives, as thou saidst, and g'ains to live, as man, 
 Hijfher degree of life : inducement strong 
 To us, as likely tasting to attain 
 Proportional ascent ; which cannot be 
 But to be gods, or angels, dcmi-gods. 
 Nor can I think that God, Creator wise. 
 Though threatening, will in earnest so destroy 
 Us his prime creatures, dignified so high, 
 Set over all his works ; which in our fall. 
 For us created, needs with us must fail. 
 Dependent made ; so God shall uncreate, 
 Be frustrate, do, undo, and labour lose ; 
 Not well conceived of God, who, though his power 
 Creation could repeat, yet would be loth 
 Us to abolish, lest the adversary 
 Triumph, and say : "Fickle their state whom God 
 Most favours; who can please him long? Me first 
 He ruined, now mankind; whom will he next?" 
 Matter of scorn, not to be given the foe. 
 However, I with thee have fi.ved my lot, 
 Certain to undergo like doom : if death 
 Consort with thee, death is to me as life ; 
 So forcible within my heart I feel 
 The bond of nature draw me to my own; 
 My own in thee, for what thou art is mine ; 
 Our state cannot be severed ; we are one, 
 One flesh ; to lose thee were to lose myself.' 
 
 So Adam ; and thus Eve to him replied : 
 ' O glorious trial of exceeding love, 
 Illustrious evidence, example high ! 
 Engaging me to emulate ; but, short 
 Of thy perfection, how sl^jill I attain, 
 Adam ? from whose dear side I boast me sprung, 
 And gladly of our union hear thee speak. 
 One heart, one soul in both ; whereof good proof 
 This day aflfcrds, declaring thee resolved, 
 Rather than death, or aught than death more dread, 
 Shall separate us, linked in love so dear. 
 To undergo with me one guilt, one crime, 
 If any be, of tasting this fair fruit; 
 Whose virtue (for of good still good proceeds. 
 Direct, or by occasion) hath presented 
 This happy trial of tliy love, which else 
 So eminently never had been known. 
 Were it I thought death menaced would ensue 
 
 This my attempt, I would sustain alone 
 
 The worst, and not persuade thee, rather die 
 
 Deserted, than oblige thee with a fact 
 
 Pernicious to thy peace ; chiefly, assured 
 
 Remarkably so late of thy so true. 
 
 So faithful, love unequalled : but I feel 
 
 Far otherwise the event ; not death, but life 
 
 Augmented, opened eyes, new hopes, new joys, 
 
 Taste so divine, that what of sweet before 
 
 Hath touched my sense, flat seems to this, and harsh. 
 
 On my experience, Adam, freely taste, 
 
 And fear of death deliver to the winds.' 
 
 So saying, she embraced him, and for joy 
 Tenderly wept; much won, that he his love 
 Had so ennobled, as of choice to incur 
 Divine displeasure for her sake, or death. 
 In recompense, (for such compliance bad 
 Such recompense best merits,) from the bough 
 She gave him of that fair enticing fruit 
 With liberal hand : he scrupled not to eat, 
 Against his better knowledge ; not deceived. 
 But fondly overcome with female charm. 
 Earth trembled from her entrails, as again 
 In pangs ; and nature gave a second groan ; 
 Sky loured ; and, muttering thunder, some sad drops 
 Wept at completing of the mortal sin 
 Original : while Adam took no thought, 
 Eating his fill ; nor Eve to iterate 
 Her former trespass feared, the more to sooth 
 Him with her Igved society ; that now. 
 As with new wine intoxicated both. 
 They swim in mirth, and fancy that they feel 
 Divinity within them breeding wings. 
 Wherewith to scorn the earth : but that false fruit 
 Far other operation first displayed. 
 Carnal desire inflaming ; he on Eve 
 Began to cast lascivious eyes ; she him 
 As wantonly repaid ; in lust they burn : 
 Till Adam thus 'gan Eve to dalliance move : 
 
 ' Eve, now I see thou art exact of taste, 
 And elegant, of sapience no small part; 
 Since to each meaning savour we apply. 
 And palate call judicious ; I the praise 
 Yield thee, so well this day thou hast purveyed. 
 Much pleasure we have lost, while we abstained 
 From this delightful fruit, nor know till now 
 True relish, tasting; if such pleasure be 
 In things to us forbidden, it might be wished, 
 For this one tree had been forbidden ten. 
 But come, so well refreshed, now let us play, 
 As meet is, after such delicious fare ; 
 For never did thy beauty, since the day 
 I saw thee first and wedded thee, adorned 
 With all perfections, so inflame my sense 
 With ardour to enjoy thee, fairer now 
 Than ever ; bounty of this virtuous tree ! ' 
 
 So said he, and forbore not glance or toy 
 Of amorous intent; well understood 
 Of Eve, whose eye darted contagious fire. 
 Her hand he seized ; and to a shady bank. 
 Thick over-head with verdant roof imbowered, 
 
72 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book IX. 
 
 He led her iiotiiingf loth ; flowers were tbe couch, 
 Pansies, and violets, and asphodel, 
 And hyacinths ; earth's freshest softest lap. 
 There they their fill of love and love's disport 
 Took largely, of their mutual g'uilt the seal, 
 The solace of their sin; till dewy sleep 
 Oppressed them, wearied with tlieir amorous play. 
 
 Soon as the force of that fallacious fruit. 
 That with exhilaratini^ vapour bland 
 About their spirits had played, and inmost powers 
 Made err, was now exhaled ; and grosser sleep. 
 Bred of unkindly fumes, with conscious dreams 
 Encumbered, now had left them ; up they rose 
 As from unrest; and, each the other viewing. 
 Soon found their eyes how opened, and their minds 
 How darkened ; innocence, that as a veil 
 Had shadowed them from knowing ill, was gone; 
 Just confidence, and native righteousness. 
 And honour, from about them, naked left 
 To guilty shame ; he covered, but his robe 
 Uncovered more. So rose the Danite strong, 
 Herculean Samson, from the harlot-lap 
 Of Philistean Dalilah, and waked 
 Shorn of his strength ; they destitute and bare 
 Of all their virtue: silent, and in face 
 Confounded, long they sat, as stricken mute : 
 Till Adam, though not less than Eve abashed. 
 At length gave utterance to these words constrained : 
 
 ' O Eve, in evil hour thou didst give ear 
 To that false worm, of whomsoever taught 
 To counterfeit man's voice ; true in our fall, 
 False in our promised rising ; since our eyes 
 Opened we find indeed, and find we know 
 Both good and evil ; good lost, and evil got ; 
 Bad fruit of knowledge, if this be to know ; 
 Which leaves us naked thus, of honour void. 
 Of innocence, of faith, of purity. 
 Our wonted ornaments now soiled and stained, 
 And in our faces evident the signs 
 Of foul concupiscence ; whence evil store ; 
 Even shame, the last of evils; of the first 
 Be sure then. How shall I behold the face 
 Henceforth of God or angel, erst with joy 
 And rapture so oft beheld ? Those heavenly shapes 
 Will dazzle now this earthly with their blaze 
 Insufferably bright. O ! might I here 
 In solitude live savage; in some glade 
 Obscured where highest woods, impenetrable 
 To star or sun-light, spread their umbmge broad 
 And brown as evening : cover me, ye pines ! 
 Ye cedars, with innumerable boughs 
 Hide me, where I may never see them more! 
 But let us now, as in bad plight, devise 
 What best may for the present serve to hide 
 The parts of each from other, that seem most 
 To shame obnoxious, and unseemliest seen; 
 Some tree, whose broad smooth leaves together sewed, 
 And girded on our loins, may cover round 
 Those middle parts; that this new-comer, shame, 
 There sit not, and reproach us as unclean.' 
 
 So counselled he, and both together went 
 
 Into the thickest wood ; there soon they chose 
 
 The fig-tree, not that kind for fruit renowned, 
 
 But such as at this day, to Indians known, 
 
 In Malabar or Decan spreads her arms 
 
 Branching so broad and long, that in the ground 
 
 The bended twigs take root, and daughters grow 
 
 About the mother-tree, a pillared shade 
 
 High over-arched, and echoing walks between : 
 
 There oft the Indian herdsman, shunning heat. 
 
 Shelters in cool, and tends his pasturing herds 
 
 At loop-holes cut through thickest shade: those leaves 
 
 They gathered, broad as Amazonian targe ; 
 
 And, with what skill they had, together sewed, 
 
 To gird their waist ; vain covering, if to hide 
 
 Their guilt and dreaded shame ! O, how unlike 
 
 To that first naked glory ! Such of late 
 
 Columbus found the American, so girt 
 
 With feathered cincture ; naked else, and wild 
 
 Among the trees on isles and woody shores. 
 
 Thus fenced, and, as they thought, their shame in 
 
 part 
 Covered, but not at rest or ease of mind. 
 They sat them down to weep ; nor only tears 
 Rained at their eyes, but high winds worse within 
 Began to rise, high passions, anger, hate. 
 Mistrust, suspicion, discord ; and shook sore 
 Their inward state of mind, calm region once 
 And full of peace, now tost and turbulent : 
 For understanding ruled not, and the will 
 Heard not her lore ; both in subjection now 
 To sensual appetite, who from beneath 
 Usurping over sovran reason claimed 
 Superior sway : from thus distempered breast, 
 Adam, estranged in look and altered style, 
 Speech intennitted thus to Eve renewed : 
 
 ' Would thou hadst hearkened to my words, and 
 
 staid 
 With me, as I besought thee, when that strange 
 Desire of wandering, this unhappy mom, 
 I know not whence possessed thee ; we had then 
 Remained still happy : not as now, despoiled 
 Of all our good ; shamed, naked, miserable! 
 liCt none henceforth seek needless cause to approve 
 The faith they owe ; when earnestly they seek 
 Such proof, conclude, they then begin to fail.' 
 
 To whom, soon moved with touch of blame, thus 
 
 Eve: 
 ' What words have passed thy lips, Adam severe ! 
 Imputest thou that to my default, or will 
 Of wandering, as thou callest it, which who knows 
 But might as ill have happened, thoui)eing by. 
 Or to thyself perhaps ? Hadst thou been there. 
 Or here the attempt, thou coiildst not have discerned 
 Fraud in the serpent, speaking as he spake ; 
 No ground of enmity between us known, 
 Why he should mean me ill, or seek to harm. 
 Was I to have never parted from thy side ? 
 As good have grown there still a lifeless rib. 
 Being as I am, why didst not thou, the head, 
 Command me absolutely not to go. 
 Going into such danger, as thou saidest ? 
 
Book IX. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 73 
 
 Too facile then, thou didst not much gainsay ; 
 Nav, didst permit, approve, and fair dismiss. 
 Hadst thou been firm and fixed in thy dissent, 
 Neither had I transgressed, nor thou with jne.' 
 To whom then first incensed, Adam replied : 
 ' Is this the love, is this the recompense 
 Of mine to thee, ingrateful Eve ! expressed 
 Immutable, when thou wert lost, not I; 
 Who might have lived, and 'joyed immortal bliss, 
 Yet willingly chose rather death with thee ? 
 And am I now upbraided as the cause 
 Of thy transgressing .'' Not enough severe. 
 It seems, in thy restraint : what could I more ? 
 I warned thee, I admonished thee, foretold 
 The danger, atid the lurking enemy 
 That lay in wait; beyond this, had been force ; 
 
 And force upon free will hath here no place. 
 But confidence then bore thee on ; secure 
 Either to meet no danger, or to find 
 iMalter of glorious trial ; and perhaps 
 I also erred, in overmuch admiring 
 What seemed in thee so perfect, that I thought 
 No evil durst attempt thee; but I rue 
 That error now, which is become my crime. 
 And thou the accuser. Thus it shall befall 
 Him who, to worth in woman overtrusting, 
 Lets her will rule : restraint she will not brook ; 
 And, left to herself, if evil thence ensue, 
 She first his weak indulgence will accuse.' 
 
 Thus they in mutual accusation spent 
 The fruitless hours, but neither self-condemning; 
 And of their vain contest appeared no end. 
 
 BOOK X. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Man's transgression known, the guarriian-anErels forsake Paradise, and return up to heaven to approve their vigrilance, and are ap- 
 proved ; God declaring that the entrance of Satan could not be by them prevented. He sends his Son to judge the transffressore; 
 ' who descends and gives sentence accordinglv ; tl)en in pitv clothes them both, and reaaeends. Sin and Death, sitting till then at the 
 gates of hell, by wondrous sympathy feeling the success ot' Satan in this new world, and the sin by man there committed, resolve to 
 sit no lonwr confined in hell, but to follow Satan their sire up to the place of man: to make the way easier from hell to this world to 
 and fro, thev pave a broad highway or bridge over Chaos, according to the track that Satan first made ; then preparing for earth, 
 they meet him, proud of his succes.s, returning to hell ; their mutual gratulation. Satan arrives at Pandemonium, ni full assembly 
 relates with boasting his success against man ; instead of applause is entertained with a general hiss by all his audience, transform- 
 ed with himself also suddenly into serpents according to his doom civen in Paradise ; then deluded with a show ot the lorbidden 
 tree springing up before them. thev. greedilv reachini; to take of the fruit, chew dust and bitter ashes. The proceedings of Sin and 
 Death ; God foretells the final victory of his Son over them, and the renewing of all things ; but for the present, commands his angels 
 to make several alterations in the heavens and elements. Adam, more and more perceiving his fallen condition, heavily bewails, 
 rejects the condoleiiient of Kve ; she persists, and at length appeases him : then to evade the curse likely to fall on their offspring, pro- 
 poses to Adam violent ways, which he approves not ; but. conceiving better hope, puts her in mind of the late promise made them, 
 that her seed should be revenged on the serpent ; and exhorts her with him to seek peace of the offended Deity, by repentance and 
 supplication. 
 
 Me.\nwhile the heinous and despiteful act 
 Of Satan done in Paradise, and how 
 He, in the serpent, had perverted Eve, 
 Her husband she, to taste the fatal fruit, 
 Was known in heaven ; for what can 'scape the eye 
 Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart 
 Omniscient? who, in all things wise and just. 
 Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind 
 Of man, with strength entire, and free-will armed 
 Complete to have discovered and repulsed 
 Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. 
 For still they knew, and ought to have still remem- 
 bered. 
 The high injunction, not to taste that fruit, 
 Whoever tempted ; which they not obeying. 
 Incurred (what could they less .'*) the penalty ; 
 And, manifold in sin, deserved to fall. 
 Up into heaven from Paradise in haste 
 The angelic guards ascended, mute and sad. 
 For man ; for of his state by this they knew. 
 Much wondering how the subtle fiend had stolen 
 Entrance unseen. Soon as the unwelcome news 
 
 From earth arrived at heaven-gate, displeased 
 All were who heard ; dim sadness did not spare 
 That time celestial visages, yet, mixed 
 With pity, violated not their bliss. 
 About the new-arrived in multitudes 
 The ethereal people ran, to hear and know 
 How all befel : they towards the throne supreme, 
 Accountable, made haste, to make appear. 
 With righteous plea, their utmost vigilance. 
 And easily approved ; when the Most High 
 Eternal Father, from his secret cloud 
 Amidst, in thunder uttered thus his voice: 
 
 ' Assembled angels, and ye powers returned 
 From unsuccessful charge, be not dismayed. 
 Nor troubled at these tidings from the earth. 
 Which your sincerest care could not prevent ; 
 Foretold so lately what would come to pass, 
 When first this tempter crossed the gulf from hell. 
 I told ye then he should prevail, and speed 
 On his bad errand ; man should be seduced, 
 And flattered out of all, believing lies 
 Against his Maker; no decree of mine 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book X. 
 
 Concurring- to necessitate his fall, 
 
 Or touch with lightest moment of impulse 
 
 His free-will, to her own inclining left 
 
 In eren scale. But fallen he is; and now 
 
 What rests, but that the mortal sentence pass 
 
 On his transgression, death denounced that day ? 
 
 Which he presumes already vain and void, 
 
 Because not yet inflicted, as he feared. 
 
 By some immediate stroke ; but soon shall find 
 
 Forbearance no acquittance, ere day end. 
 
 Justice shall not return as bounty scorned. 
 
 But whom send I to judge them? whom but thee 
 
 Vicegerent Son .'' To thee I have transferred 
 
 All judgment, whetiier in heaven, or earth, or hell. 
 
 Easy it may be seen that I intend 
 
 Mercy colleague with justice, sending thee 
 
 Man's friend, bis Mediator, his designed 
 
 Both ransom and Redeemer voluntary. 
 
 And destined man himself to judge man fallen.' 
 
 So spake the Father; and unfolding bright 
 Toward the right hand his glory, on the Son 
 Blazed forth unclouded deity : he full 
 Resplendent all his Father manifest 
 Expressed, and thus divinely answered mild : 
 
 ' Father Eternal, thine is to decree; 
 Mine, both in heaven and earth, to do thy will 
 Supreme ; that thou in me, thy Son beloved, 
 Mayst ever rest well pleased. I go to judge 
 On earth these thy transgressors; but thou knowest, 
 Whoever judged, the worst on me must light. 
 When time shall be; for so I undertook 
 Before thee ; and, not repenting, this obtain 
 Of right, that I may mitigate their doom 
 On me derived ; yet I shall temper so 
 Justice with mercy, as may illustrate most 
 Them fully satisfied, and thee appease. 
 Attendance none shall need, nor train, where none 
 Are to behold the judgment, but the judged. 
 Those two ; the third best absent is condemnedv 
 Convict by flight, and rebel to all law : 
 Conviction to the serpent none belongs.' 
 
 Thus saying, from his radiant seat he rose 
 Of high collateral glory. Him thrones, and powers. 
 Princedoms, and dominations niinistrant. 
 Accompanied to heaven-gate; from whence 
 Eden, and all the coast, in prospect lay. 
 Down he descended straight; the speed of gods 
 Time counts not, though with swiftest minutes winged. 
 Now was the sun in western cadence low 
 From noon, and gentle airs, due at their hour. 
 To fan the earth now waked, and usher in 
 The evening cool ; when he, from wrath more cool, 
 Came the mild judge, and intercessor both, 
 To sentence man : the voice of God they heard 
 Now walking in the garden, by soft winds 
 Brought to their ears, while day declined ; they beard, 
 And from his presence hid themselves among 
 The thickest trees, both man and wife ; till God 
 Approaching, thus to Adam called aloud : 
 
 ' Where art thou, Adam, wont with joy to meet 
 My coming seen far off.' I miss thee here. 
 
 Not pleased, thus entertained with solitude. 
 Where obvious duty ere while appeared unsought: 
 Or come I less conspicuous, or what change 
 Absents thee, or what chance detains ? Come forth !' 
 
 He came ; and with him Eve, more loth, though first 
 To offend ; discountenanced both, and discomposed ; 
 Love was not in their looks, either to God, 
 Or to each other; but apparent guilt. 
 And shame, and perturbation, and despair; 
 Anger, and obstinacy, and hate, and guile. 
 Whence Adam faltering long, thus answered brief: 
 
 * I heard thee in the garden, and of thy voice 
 Afraid, being naked, hid myself To whom 
 The gracious Judge without revile replied : 
 
 ' My voice thou oft hast heard, and hast not feared, 
 But still rejoiced ; how is it now become 
 So dreadful to thee ? That thou art naked, who 
 Hath told thee ? Hast thou eaten of the tree. 
 Whereof I gave thee charge thou shouldst not eat ?' 
 
 To whom thus Adam sore beset replied : 
 ' O heaven ! in evil strait this day I stand 
 Before my Judge ; either to undergo 
 Myself the total crime, or to accuse 
 My other self, the partner of my life; 
 Whose failing, while her faith to me remains, 
 I should conceal, and not expose to blame 
 By my complaint : but strict necessity 
 Subdues me, and calamitous constraint; 
 Lest on my head both sin and punishment, 
 However insupportable, be all 
 Devolved ; though, should I hold my peace, yet thou 
 Wouldst easily detect what I conceal. 
 This woman, whom tbou madest to be my help, 
 And gavest me as thy perfect gift, so good, 
 So fit, so acceptable, so divine. 
 That from her hand I could suspect no ill, 
 And what she did, whatever in itself. 
 Her doing seemed to justify the deed ; 
 She gave me of the tree, and I did eat.' 
 
 To whom the sovran Presence thus replied : 
 ' Was she thy God, that her thou didst obey 
 Before his voice ? or was she made thy guide, 
 Superior, or but equal, that to her 
 Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place 
 Wherein God set thee above her made of thee. 
 And for thee, whose perfection far excelled 
 Hers in all real dignity ? Adorned 
 She was indeed, and lovely, to attract 
 Thy love, not thy subjection ; and her gifts 
 Were such, as under government well seemed ; 
 Unseemly to bear rule ; which was thy part 
 And person, hadst thou known thyself aright.' 
 
 So having said, he thus to Eve in few : 
 ' Say, woman, what is this which thou hast done?' 
 
 To whom sad Eve, with shame nigh overwhelmed, 
 Confessing soon, yet not before her Judge 
 Bold or loquacious, thus abashed replied : 
 ' The serpent me beguiled, and I did eat.' 
 
 Which when the Ix)rd God heard, without delay 
 To judgment he proceeded on the accused 
 Serpent, though brute ; unable to transfer 
 
Book X. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 75 
 
 The g-uilt on him who made him instrument 
 Of mischief, and polluted from ihe end 
 Of his creation: justly then accursed 
 As vitiated in nature : more to know 
 Concerned not man, (since he no further knew,) 
 Nor altered his offence ; yet God at last 
 To Satan firet in sin his doom applied, 
 Thoug-h in mysterious terms, judged as then best: 
 And on the serpent thus his curse let fall : 
 
 ' Because thou hast done this, thou art accursed 
 Above all cattle, each beast of the field ; 
 Upon thy belly g^rovelling thou shalt go. 
 And dust shalt eat all the days of thy life. 
 Between thee and the woman I will put 
 Enmity, and between thine and her seed ; 
 Her seed shall bruise thy head, thou bruise his heel.' 
 
 So spake this oracle, then verified 
 When Jesus, Son of Mary, second Eve, 
 Saw Satan fall, like lightning, down from heaven. 
 Prince of the air; then, rising from his grave, 
 Spoiled principalities and powers, triumphed 
 In open show; and, with ascension bright, 
 Captivity led captive through the air. 
 The realm itself of Satan, long usurped; 
 Whom he shall tread at last under our feet; 
 Even he, who now foretold his fatal bruise : 
 And to the woman thus his sentence turned: 
 
 ' Thy sorrow I will greatly multiply 
 By thy conception ; children thou shalt bring 
 In sorrow forth ; and to thy husband's will 
 Thine shall submit; he over thee shall rule.' 
 
 On Adam last thus judgmeni he pronounced . 
 ' Because thou hast hearkened to the voice of thy wife, 
 And eaten of the tree concerning which 
 I charged thee, saying. Thou shalt not eat thereof: 
 Cursed is the ground for th}' sake ; thou in sorrow 
 Shalt eat thereof, all the days of thy life ; 
 Thorns also and thistles it shall bring thee forth 
 Unhid ; and thou shalt eat of the herb of the field ; 
 In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread. 
 Till thou return unto the ground ; for thou 
 Out of the ground wast taken ; know thy birth, 
 For dust thou art, and shalt to dust return.' 
 
 So judged he man, both judge and saviour sent; 
 And the instant stroke of death, denounced that day, 
 Removed far off; then, pitying how they stood 
 Before him naked to the air, that now 
 Must suffer change, disdained not to begin 
 Thenceforth the form of servant to assume; 
 As when he washed his servants' feet ; so now 
 As father of his family, he clad 
 Their nakedness with skins of beasts, or slain, 
 Or as the snake with youthful coat repaid ; 
 And thought not much to clothe his enemies; 
 Nor he their outward only with the skins 
 Of beasts, but inward nakedness, much more 
 Opprobrious, with his robe of righteousness. 
 Arraying, covered from his Father's sight. 
 To him with swift ascent he up returned, 
 Into his blissful bosom reassumed, 
 In glory, as of old ; to him appeased. 
 
 All, though all-knowing, what had passed with man 
 Recounted, mixing intercession sweet. 
 
 Meanwhile, ere thus was sinned and judged on 
 earth, 
 Within the gates of hell sat Sin and Death, 
 In counterview within the gates, that now 
 Stood open wide, belching outrageous flame 
 Far into Chaos, since the fiend passed through. 
 Sin opening ; who thus now to Death began : 
 
 ' O son, why sit we here each other viewing 
 Idly, while Satan, our great author, thrives 
 In other worlds, and happier seat provides 
 For us, his offspring dear? It cannot be 
 But that success attends him ; if mishap. 
 Ere this he had returned, with fury driven 
 By his avengers, since no place like this 
 Can fit his punishment, or their revenge. 
 Methinks I feel new strength within me rise, 
 Wings growing, and dominion given me large, 
 Beyond this deep; whatever draws me on, 
 Or sympathy, or some connatural force. 
 Powerful at greatest distance to unite 
 With secret amity things of like kind, 
 By secretest conveyance. Thou, my shade 
 Inseparable, must with me along : 
 For Death from Sin no power can separate. 
 But, lest the difficulty of passing back 
 Stay his return perhaps over this gulf 
 Impassable, impervious ; let us try 
 Adventurous work, yet to thy power and mine 
 Not unagreeable, to found a path 
 Over this main from hell to that new world. 
 Where Satan now prevails ; a monument 
 Of merit high to all the infernal host. 
 Easing their passage hence, for intercourse. 
 Or transmigration, as their lot shall lead. 
 Nor can I mi.ss the way, so strongly drawn 
 By this new-felt attraction and instinct.' 
 
 Whom thus the meager shadow answered soon : 
 ' Go, whither fate, and inclination strong. 
 Leads thee ; I shall not lag behind, nor err 
 The way, thou leading; such a scent I draw 
 Of carnage, prey innumerable, and taste 
 The savour of death from all things there that live ; 
 Nor shall I to the work thou enterprisest 
 Be wanting, but afford thee equal aid.' 
 
 So saying, with delight he snuffed the smell 
 Of mortal change on earth. As when a flock 
 Of ravenous fowl, though many a league remote. 
 Against the day of battle, to a field, 
 Where armies lie encamped, come flying lured 
 With scent of living carcasses designed 
 For death, the following day, in bloody fight : 
 So scented the grim feature, and upturned 
 His nostril wide into the murky air ; 
 Sagacious of his quarry from so far. 
 Then both from out hell-gates, into the waste 
 Wide anarchy of chaos, damp and dark, 
 Flew diverse ; and with power (their power was great) 
 Hovering upon the waters, what they met 
 Solid or slimy, as in raging sea 
 
PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book X. 
 
 Tost up and down, togcether crowded drore, 
 
 From eacli side shoaling' towards the mouth of hell : 
 
 As when two polar winds, blowing adverse 
 
 Upon the Cronian sea, together drive 
 
 Mountains of ice, that stop the imagined way 
 
 Beyond Pctsora eastward, to the rich 
 
 Cathaian coast. The aggregated soil 
 
 Death with his mace petrific, cold and dry, 
 
 As with a trident smote, and fixed as firm 
 
 As Dclos, floating once ; the rest his look 
 
 Bound with Gorgonian rigour not to move ; 
 
 And with asphaltic slime broad as the gate. 
 
 Deep to the roots of hell the gathered beach 
 
 They fastened, and the mole immense wrought on 
 
 Over the foaming deep, high-arched, a bridge 
 
 Of length prodigious, joining to the wall 
 
 Immoveable of this now fenceless world, 
 
 Forfeit to death ; from hence a passage broad, ' 
 
 Smooth, easy, inoffensive, down to hell. 
 
 So, if great things to small may be compared, 
 
 Xerxes, the liberty of Greece to yoke. 
 
 From Susa, his Memnonian palace high, 
 
 Came to the sea; and, over Hellespont 
 
 Bridging his way, Europe with Asia joined, 
 
 And scourged with many a stroke the indignant waves. 
 
 Now had they brought the work by wondrous art 
 
 Pontifical, a bridge of pendant rock. 
 
 Over the vexed abyss, following the track 
 
 Of Satan to the self-same place where he 
 
 First lighted from his wing, and landed safe 
 
 From out of chaos, to the outside bare 
 
 Of this round world : with pins of adamant 
 
 And chains they made all fast, too fast they made 
 
 And durable! And now in little space 
 
 The confines met of empyrean heaven. 
 
 And of this world ; and on the left hand, hell 
 
 With long reach interposed ; three several ways 
 
 In sight, to each of these three places led. 
 
 And now their way to earth they had descried, 
 
 To Paradise first tending; when, behold ! 
 
 Satan, in likeness of an angel bright. 
 
 Betwixt the Centaur and the Scorpion steering 
 
 His zenith, while the sun in Aries rose : 
 
 Disguised he came ; but those his children dear 
 
 Their parent soon discerned, though in disguise. 
 
 He, after Eve seduced, unminded slunk 
 
 Into the wood fast by; and, changing shape, 
 
 To observe the sequel, saw his guileful act 
 
 By Eve, though all unweeting, seconded 
 
 Upon her husband ; saw their shame that sought 
 
 Vain covertures ; but when he saw descend 
 
 The Son of God to judge them, terrified 
 
 He fled ; not hoping to escape, but shun 
 
 The present; fearing, guilty, what his wrath 
 
 Might suddenly inflict ; that past, returned 
 
 By night, and listening where the hapless pair 
 
 Sat in their sad discoui-se, and various plaint. 
 
 Thence gathered his own doom ; which understood, 
 
 Not instant, but of future time, with joy 
 
 And tidings fraught, to hell he now returned ; 
 
 And at the brink of chaos, near the foot 
 
 Of this new wondrous pontificp, unhoped 
 Met, who to meet him came, iiis offspring dear. 
 Great joy was at their meeting, and at sight 
 Of that stupendous bridge his joy increased. 
 Long he admiring stood, till Sin, his fair 
 Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke : 
 
 ' O parent, these are thy magnific deeds, 
 Thy trophies ! which thou viewest as not thine own ; 
 Thou art their author, and prime architect : 
 For I no sooner in my heart divined 
 (My heart, which by a secret harmony 
 Still moves with thine, joined in connexion sweet) 
 That thou on earth hadst prospered, which thy looks 
 Now also evidence, but straight I felt, 
 Though distant from thee worlds between, yet felt 
 That I must after thee, with this thy son: 
 Such fatal consequence unites us three. 
 Hell could no longer hold us in our bounds, 
 Nor this unvoyageable gulf obscure 
 Detain from following thy illustrious track : 
 Thou hast achieved our liberty, confined 
 Within hell-gates till now ; thou us impowered 
 To fortify thus far, and overlay, 
 With this portentous bridge, the dark abyss. 
 Thine now is all this world ; thy virtue hath won 
 What thy hands builded not ; thy wisdom gained 
 With odds what war hath lost, and fully avenged 
 Our foil in heaven ; here thou shall monarch reign, 
 There didst not : there let him still victor sway. 
 As battle hath adjudged ; from this new world 
 Retiring, by his own doom alienated ; 
 And henceforth monarchy with thee divide 
 Of all things, parted by the empyreal bounds. 
 His quadrature, from thy orbicular world ; 
 Or try thee now more dangerous to his throne.' 
 
 Whom thus the prince of darkness answered glad : 
 'Fair dauui-hter, and thou son and grandchild both ; 
 High proof ye now have given to the race 
 Of Satan, (for I glory in the name. 
 Antagonist of heaven's Almighty King,) 
 Amply have merited of me, of all 
 The infernal empire, that so near heaven's door 
 Triumphal with triumphal act have met. 
 Mine, with this glorious work ; and made one realm, 
 Hell and this world, one realm, one continent 
 Of easy thoroughfare. Therefore, while I 
 Descend through darkness, on your road with ease, 
 To my associate powers, them to acquaint 
 With these successes, and with them rejoice; 
 You two this way, among these numerous orbs. 
 All yours, right down to Paradise descend ; 
 There dwell, and reign in bliss ; (hence on the earth 
 Dominion exercise and in the air. 
 Chiefly on man, sole lord of all declared ; 
 Him first make sure your thrall, and lastly kill. 
 My substitutes I send ye, and create 
 Plenipotent on earth, of matchless might 
 Issuing from me: on your joint vigour now 
 My hold of this new kingdom all depends, 
 Through Sin to Death exposed by my exploit. 
 If your joint power prevail, the afllairs of hell 
 
Book X. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 77 
 
 No detriment need fear ; go, and be strong.' 
 
 So saying-, he dismissed them ; they with speed 
 Their course through thickest constellations held, 
 Spreading their bane ; the blasted stars looked wan, 
 And planets, planet-struck, real eclipse 
 Then suffered. The other way Satan went down 
 The causey to hell-gate : on either side 
 Disparted chaos overbuilt exclaimed, 
 And with rebounding surge the bars assailed, 
 That scorned his indignation : through the gate. 
 Wide open and unguarded, Satan passed, 
 And all about found desolate ; for those, 
 Appointed to sit there, had left their charge. 
 Flown to the upper world ; the rest were all 
 Far to the inland retired, about the walls 
 Of Pandemonium, city and proud seat 
 Of Lucifer; so by allusion called 
 Of that bright star to Satan paragoned : 
 There kept their watch the legions, while the grand 
 In council sat, solicitous what chance 
 Might intercept their emperor sent ; so he 
 Departing gave command, and they observed. 
 As when the Tartar from his Russian foe, 
 By Astracan, over the snowy plains, 
 Retires; or Bactrian Sophi, from the horns 
 Of Turkish crescent, leaves all waste beyond 
 The realm of Aladule, in his retreat 
 To Taurus or Casbeen : so these, the late 
 Heaven-banished host, left desert utmost hell 
 Many a dark league, reduced in careful watch 
 Round their metropolis ; and now expecting 
 Each hour their great adventurer, from the search 
 Of foreign worlds : he through the midst unmarked, 
 In show plebeian angel militant 
 Of lowest order, passed ; and from the door 
 Of that Plutonian hall, invisible 
 Ascended his high throne ; which, under state 
 Of richest texture spread, at the upper end 
 Was placed in regal lustre. Down a while 
 He sat, and round about him saw, unseen ; 
 At last, as from a cloud, his fulgent head 
 And shape star-bright appeared, or brighter; clad 
 Witii what permissive glory since his fall 
 Was left him, or false glitter: all amazed 
 At that so sudden blaze, the Stygian throng 
 Bent their aspect, and whom they wished beheld. 
 Their mighty chief returned : loud was the acclaim: 
 Forth rushed in baste the great consulting peers, 
 Raised from their dark divan, and with like joy 
 Congratulant approached him ; who with hand 
 Silence, and with these words attention, won : 
 
 ' Thrones, dominations, princedoms, virtues, powers; 
 For in possession such, not only of right, 
 I call ye, and declare ye now ; returned 
 Successful beyond hope, to lead ye forth 
 Triumphant out of this infernal pit 
 Abominable, accursed, the house of woe. 
 And dungeon of our tyrant: now possess. 
 As lords, a spacious world, to our native heaven 
 Little inferior, by my adventure hard 
 With peril great achieved. Long were to tell 
 
 What I have done, what suffered ; with what pain 
 
 Voyaged the unreal, vast, unbounded deep 
 
 Of horrible confusion ; over which 
 
 By Sin and Death a broad way now is paved. 
 
 To expedite your glorious march ; but I 
 
 Toiled out my uncouth passage, forced to ride 
 
 The untractable abyss, plunged in the womb 
 
 Of unoriginal night and chaos wild; 
 
 That, jealous of their secrets, fiercely opposed 
 
 My journey strange, with clamorous uproar 
 
 Protesting fate supreme ; thence how I found 
 
 The new-created world, which fame in heaven 
 
 Long had foretold, a fabric wonderful 
 
 Of absolute perfection ! therein man 
 
 Placed in a Paradise, by our exile 
 
 Made happy : him by fraud I have seduced 
 
 From his Creator; and, the more to increase 
 
 Your wonder, with an apple ; he, thereat 
 
 Offended, worth your laughter! hath given up 
 
 Both his beloved man and all his world, 
 
 To Sin and Death a prey, and so to us, 
 
 Without our hazard, labour, or alarm. 
 
 To range in, and to dwell, and over man 
 
 To rule, as over all be should have ruled. 
 
 True is, me also he hath judged, or rather 
 
 Me not, but the brute serpent in whose shape 
 
 Man I deceived : that which to me belongs 
 
 Is enmity, which he will put between 
 
 Me and mankind ; I am to bruise his heel ; 
 
 His seed, when is not set, shall bruise my head : 
 
 A world who would not purchase with a bruise, 
 
 Or much more grievous pain ? Ye have the account 
 
 Of ray performance : what remains, ye gods. 
 
 But up, and enter now into full bliss ?' 
 
 So having said, a while he stood, expecting 
 Their universal shout, and high applause. 
 To fill his ear ; when, contrary, he hears 
 On all sides, from innumerable tongues, 
 A dismal universal hiss, the sound 
 Of public scorn ; he wondered, but not long 
 Had leisure, wondering at himself now more ; 
 His visage drawn he felt to sharp and spare ; 
 His arms clung to his ribs ; his legs entwining 
 Each other, till supplanted down he fell 
 A monstrous serpent on his belly prone. 
 Reluctant, but in vain ; a greater Power 
 Now ruled him, punished in the shape he sinned, 
 According to his doom. He would have spoke, 
 But hiss for hiss returned with forked tongue 
 To forked tongue ; for now were all transformed 
 Alike, to serpents all, as accessories 
 To his bold riot : dreadful was the din 
 Of hissing through the hall, thick -swarming now 
 With complicated monsters head and tail, 
 Scorpion and asp, and amphisbeena dire. 
 Cerastes horned, hydros, and elops drear, 
 And dipsas (not so thick swarmed once the soil 
 Bedropt with blood of Gorgon, or the isle 
 Ophiusa;) but still greatest he the midst. 
 Now dragon grown, larger than whom the sun 
 Ingendered in the Pythian vale or slime. 
 
78 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book X. 
 
 Huge Python, and liis power no less he seemed 
 
 Above the rest still to retain. They all 
 
 Him followed, issuing forth to the open field, 
 
 "Where all yet left of that revolted rout, 
 
 Heaven-fallen, in station stood or just array ; 
 
 Sublime with expectation when to see 
 
 In triumph issuing forth their glorious chief. 
 
 They saw, but other sight instead ! a crowd 
 
 Of ugly serpents ; horror on them fell, 
 
 And horrid sympathy; for, what they saw. 
 
 They felt themselves, now cbangiiig ; down their arms, 
 
 Down fell the spear and shield; down they as fast; 
 
 And the dire hiss renewed, and the dire form 
 
 Catched by contagion ; like in punishment. 
 
 As in their crime. Thus was the applause they meant 
 
 Turned to exploding hiss, triumph to shame 
 
 Cast on themselves from their own mouths. There 
 
 stood 
 A grove hard by, sprung up with this their change, 
 His will who reigns above, to aggravate 
 Their penance, laden with fair fruit, like that 
 Which grew in Paradise, the bait of Eve 
 Used by the tempter: on tiiat prospect strange 
 Their earnest eyes they fixed, imagining 
 For one forbidden tree a multitude 
 Now risen, to work them further woe or shame; 
 Yet, parched with scalding thirst and hunger fierce. 
 Though to delude them sent, could not abstain ; 
 But on they rolled in heaps, and, up the trees 
 Climbing, sat thicker than the snaky locks 
 That curled Megaera. Greedily they plucked 
 The fruitage fair to sight, like that which grew 
 Near that bituminous lake where Sodom flamed ; 
 This more delusive, not the touch, but taste 
 Deceived ; they fondly thinking to allay 
 Their appetite with gust, instead of fruit 
 Chewed bitter ashes, which the offended taste 
 With spattering noise rejected : oft they assayed. 
 Hunger and thirst constraining ; drugged as oft, 
 With hatefullest disrelish writhed their jaws. 
 With soot and cinders filled ; so oft they fell 
 Into the same allusion, not as man 
 Whom they triumphed once lapsed. Thus were they 
 
 plagued 
 And worn with famine, long and ceaseless hiss, 
 Till their lost shape, permitted, they resumed ; 
 Yearly enjoined, some say, to undergo 
 This annual humbling certain numbered days. 
 To dash their pride, and joy, for man seduced. 
 However, some tradition they dispersed 
 Among the heathen of their purchase got ; 
 And fabled how the serpent, whom they called 
 Ophion, with Eurynome, the wide- 
 Encroaching Eve perhaps, had first the rule 
 Of high Olympus; thence by Saturn driven 
 And Ops, ere yet Dictaean Jove was bom. 
 Meanwhile in Paradise the hellish pair 
 Too soon arrived ; Sin, there in power before, 
 Once actual ; now in body, and to dwell 
 Habitual habiunt ; behind her Death, 
 Close following, pace for pace, not mounted yet 
 
 On his pale horse : to whom Sin thus began : 
 
 * Second of Satan sprung, all-conquering Death ! 
 What thinkest thou of our empire now, though earned 
 With travel difficult, not better far 
 Than still at hell's dark threshold to have sat watch, 
 Unnamed, undreaded, and thyself half-starved ?' 
 
 Whom thus the sin-born monster answered soon: 
 * To me, who with eternal famine pine, 
 Alike is hell, or Paradise, or heaven ; 
 There best, where most with ravine I may meet: 
 Which here, though plenteous, all too little seems 
 To stuff this maw, this vast un-hidebound corpse.' 
 
 To whom the incestuous mother thus replied : 
 ' Thou therefore on these herbsj and fruits, and 
 
 flowers, 
 Feed first ; on each beast next, and fish, and fowl ; 
 No homely morsels : and whatever thing 
 The scythe of Time mows down, devour unspared ; 
 Till T, in man residing, through the race. 
 His thoughts, his looks, words, actions, all infect ; 
 And season him thy last and sweetest prey.' 
 
 This said, they both betook them several ways. 
 Both to destroy, or unimmortal make 
 All kinds, and for destruction to mature 
 Sooner or later ; which the Almighty seeing. 
 From his transcendent seat the saints among. 
 To those bright orders uttered thus his voice : 
 
 ' See, with what heat these dogs of hell advance 
 To waste and havoc yonder world, which I 
 So fair and good created ; and had still 
 Kept in that state, had not the folly of man 
 Let in these wasteful furies, who impute 
 Folly to me ; so doth the prince of hell 
 And his adherents, that with so much ease 
 I suflTer them to enter and possess 
 A place so heavenly ; and, conniving, seem 
 To gratify my scornful enemies, 
 That laugh, as if, transported with some fit 
 Of passion, I to them had quitted all. 
 At random yielded up to their misrule ; 
 And know not that I called, and drew them thither, 
 My hell-hounds, to lick up the draff and filth 
 Which man's polluting sin with taint hath shed 
 On what was pure ; till crammed and gorged, nigh 
 
 burst. 
 With sucked and glutted offal, at one sling 
 Of thy victorious arm, well-pleasing Son, 
 Both Sin, and Death, and yawning grave, at last, 
 Through chaos hurled, obstruct the mouth of hell 
 For ever, and seal up his ravenous jaws. 
 Then heaven and earth renewed shall be made pure 
 To sanctity, that shall receive no stain : 
 Till then, the curse pronounced on both precedes.' 
 
 He ended, and the heavenly audience loud 
 Sung halleluiah, as the sound of seas, 
 Through multitude that sung : ' Just are thy ways, 
 Righteous are thy decrees on all thy works ; 
 Who can extenuate thee ."* Next, to the Son, 
 Destined Restorer of mankind, by whom 
 New heaven and earth shall to the ages rise. 
 Or down from heaven descend.' Such was their song ; 
 
Book X. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 79 
 
 While the Creator calling forth by name 
 
 His mighty angels, gave them several charge, 
 
 As sorted best with present things. The sun 
 
 Had first his precept so to move, so shine. 
 
 As might affect the earth with cold and heat 
 
 Scarce tolerable, and from the north to call 
 
 Decrepit winter; from the south to bring 
 
 Solstitial summer's heat. To the blank moon 
 
 Her office they prescribed ; to the other five 
 
 Their planetary motions, and aspects. 
 
 In sextile, square, and trine, and opposite, 
 
 Of noxious efficacy, and when to join 
 
 In synod unbenign ; and taught the fixed 
 
 Their influence malignant when to shower, 
 
 Which of them rising with the sun, or falling, 
 
 Should prove tempestuous: to the winds they set 
 
 Their corners, when with bluster to confound 
 
 Sea, air, and shore ; the thunder when to roll 
 
 With terror through the dark aereal hall. 
 
 Some say he bid his angels turn askance 
 
 The poles of earth, twice ten degrees and more. 
 
 From the sun's axle ; they with labour pushed 
 
 Oblique the centric globe: some say, the sun 
 
 Was bid turn reins from the equinoctial road 
 
 Like-distant breadth to Taurus with the seven 
 
 Atlantic Sisters, and the Spartan Twins, 
 
 Up to the tropic Crab : thence down amain 
 
 By Leo, and the Virgin, and the Scales, 
 
 As deep as Capricorn ; to bring in change 
 
 Of seasons to each clime; else had the spring 
 
 Perpetual smiled on earth with verdant flowers, 
 
 Equal in days and nights, except to those 
 
 Beyond the polar circles; to them day 
 
 Had unbenighted shone, while the low sun. 
 
 To recompense his distance, in their sight 
 
 Had rounded still the horizon, and not known 
 
 Or east or west ; which had forbid the snow 
 
 From cold Estotiland, and south as far 
 
 Beneath Magellan. At that tasted fruit 
 
 The sun, as from Thyestean banquet, turned 
 
 His couree intended ; else, how had the world 
 
 Inhabited, though sinless, more than now, 
 
 Avoided pinching cold and scorching heat? 
 
 These changes in the heavens, though slow, produced 
 
 Like change on sea and land ; sideral blast, 
 
 Vapour, and mist, and exhalation hot, 
 
 Corrupt and pestilent : now, from the north 
 
 Of Norumbega, and the Samoed shore. 
 
 Bursting their brazen dungeon, armed with ice, 
 
 And snow, and hail, and stormy gust and flaw, 
 
 Boreas, and Csecias, and Argestes loud. 
 
 And Thrascias, rend the woods, and seas upturn ; 
 
 With adverse blast upturns them from the south 
 
 Notus, and Afer black with thunderous clouds 
 
 From Serraliona; thwart of these, as fierce. 
 
 Forth rush the Levant and the Ponent winds, 
 
 Eurus and Zephyr, with their lateral noise, 
 
 Sirocco and Libecchio. Thus began 
 
 Outrage from lifeless things; but Discord first, 
 
 Daughter of Sin, among the irrational 
 
 Death introduced, through fierce antipathy : 
 
 Beast now with beast 'gan war, and fowl with fowl. 
 And fish with fish : to graze the herb all leaving, 
 Devoured each other; nor stood much in awe 
 Of man, but fled him : or, with countenance grim. 
 Glared on him passing. These were from without 
 The growing miseries, which Adam saw 
 Already in part, though hid in gloomiest shade, 
 To sorrow abandoned, but worse felt within; 
 And, in a troubled sea of passion tost. 
 Thus to disburden sought with sad complaint: 
 
 ' O miserable of happy ! Is this the end 
 Of this new glorious world, and me so late 
 The glory of that glory, who now become 
 Accursed, of blessed ? hide me from the face 
 Of God, whom to behold was then my hightb 
 Of happiness! Yet well, if here would end 
 The misery; I deserved it, and would bear 
 My own deservings ; but this will not serve : 
 All that I eat or drink, or shall beget. 
 Is propagated curse. O voice, once heard 
 Delightfully, Increase and multiply; 
 Now death to hear ! for what can I increase, 
 Or multiply, but curses on my head .'' 
 Who of all ages to succeed, but, feeling 
 The evil on him brought by me, will curse 
 My head ? " 111 Atre our ancestor impure. 
 For this wc may thank Adam !" but his thanks 
 Shall be the execration : so, besides 
 Mine own that bide upon me, all from me 
 Shall with a fierce reflux on me rebound ; 
 On me, as on their natural center, light 
 Heavy, though in their place. O fleeting joys 
 Of Paradise, dear-bought with. lasting woes! 
 Did I request thee, Make.*, from my clay 
 To mould me man ? Did I solicit thee 
 From darkness to promote me, or here place 
 In this delicious garden ? As my will 
 Concurred not to my being, it were but right 
 And equal to reduce me to my dust; 
 Desirous to resign and render back 
 All I received ; unable to perform 
 Thy terms too hard, by which I was to hold 
 The good I sought not. To the loss of that. 
 Sufficient penalty, why hast thou added 
 The sense of endless woes ? Inexplicable 
 Thy justice seems; yet, to say truth, too late 
 I thus contest ; then should have been refused 
 Those terms, whatever, when they were proposed : 
 Thou didst accept them ; wilt thou enjoy the good, 
 Then cavil the conditions ? and, though God 
 Made thee without thy leave, what if thy son 
 Prove disobedient ; and, reproved, retort, 
 " Wherefore didst thou beget me ? I sought it not:" 
 Wouldst thou admit for his contempt of thee 
 That proud excuse ? yet him not thy election, 
 But natural necessity, begot. 
 God made thee of choice his own, and of his own 
 To serve him ; thy reward was of his grace ; 
 Thy punishment then justly is at his will. 
 Be it so, for I submit ; his doom is fair. 
 That dust I am, and shall to dust return : 
 
80 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book X. 
 
 O welcome hour whenever! Why delajs 
 
 His hand to execute what his decree 
 
 Fixed on this day ? Why do I overlive ? 
 
 Why am I mocked with death, and lengthened out 
 
 To deathless pain ? How gladly would I meet 
 
 Mortality my sentence, and be earth 
 
 Insensible ! How glad would lay me down 
 
 As in my mother's lap ! There I should rest 
 
 And sleep secure ; his dreadful voice no more 
 
 Would thunder in my ears ; no fear of worse 
 
 To me, and to my ofrspring, would torment me 
 
 With cruel expectation. Yet one doubt 
 
 Pursues me still, lest all I cannot die; 
 
 I^st that pure breath of life, the spirit of man 
 
 Which God inspired, cannot together perish 
 
 With this corporeal clod : then, in the grave, 
 
 Or in some other dismal place, who knows 
 
 But I shall die a living death ? O thought 
 
 Horrid, if true ! Yet why ? It was but breath 
 
 Of life that sinned ; what dies but what had life 
 
 And sin ? The body properly hath neither. 
 
 All of me then shall die : let this appease 
 
 The doubt, since human reach no further knows. 
 
 For though the Lord of all be infinite. 
 
 Is his wrath also .'' Be it, man is not so, 
 
 But mortal doomed. How can he exercise 
 
 Wrath without end on man, whom death must end ? 
 
 Can he make deathless death ? That were to make 
 
 Strange contradiction, which to God himself 
 
 Impossible is held ; as argument 
 
 Of weakness, not of power. Will he draw out, 
 
 For anger's sake, finite to infinite, 
 
 In punished man, to satisfy his rigour, 
 
 Satisfied never ? That were to extend 
 
 His sentence beyond dust and nature's law, 
 
 By which all causes else, according still 
 
 To the reception of their matter, act ; 
 
 Not to the extent of their own sphere. But say 
 
 That death be not one stroke, as I supposed, 
 
 Bereaving sense, but endless misery 
 
 From this day onward : which I feel begun 
 
 Both in me, and without me; and so last 
 
 To perpetuity : ay me ! that fear 
 
 Comes thundering back with dreadful revolution 
 
 On my defenceless head ; both death and I 
 
 Are found eternal, and incorporate both : 
 
 Nor I on my part single ; in me all 
 
 Posterity stands cursed : fair patrimony 
 
 That I must leave ye, sons I O, were I able 
 
 To waste it all myself, and leave ye riorie !■ 
 
 So disinherited, how would ye bless 
 
 Me, now your curse.' Ah, why should all mankind, 
 
 For one man's fault, thus guiltless be condemned, 
 
 If guiltless.'' But from me what can proceed, 
 
 But all corrupt; both mind and will depraved 
 
 Not to do only, hut to will the same 
 
 With me .'' How can they then acquitted stand 
 
 In sight of God ? Him, after all disputes. 
 
 Forced I absolve : all my evasions vain, 
 
 And reasonings, though through mazes, lead me still 
 
 But to my own conviction : first and last 
 
 On me, me only, as the source and spring 
 Of all corruption, all the blame lights due ; 
 So might the wrath ! Fond wish ! couldst thou sup- 
 port 
 That burden, heavier than tlie earth to hear; 
 Than all the world much heavier, though divided 
 With that bad woman ? Thus, what thou desirest, 
 And what thou fearest, alike destroys all hope 
 Of refuge, and concludes tliee miserable 
 Beyond all past example and future ; 
 To Satan only like both crime and doom. 
 
 conscience! into what abyss of fears 
 
 And horrors hast thou driven me ; out of which 
 
 1 find no way, from deep to deeper plunged ! ' 
 Thus Adam to himself lamented loud, 
 
 Through the still night : not now, as ere man fell, 
 
 Wholesome, and cool, and mild, but with black air 
 
 Accompanied ; with damps and dreadful gloom ; 
 
 Which to bis evil conscience represented 
 
 All things with double terror : on the ground 
 
 Outstretched he lay, on the cold ground ; and oft 
 
 Cursed his creation ; death as oft accused 
 
 Of tardy execution, since denounced 
 
 The day of his offence. ' Why comes not death,' 
 
 Said he, ' with one thrice acceptable stroke 
 
 To end me ? Shall truth fail to keep her word, 
 
 Justice divine not hasten to be just .'' 
 
 But death comes not at call ; justice divine 
 
 Mends not her slowest pace for prayers or cries. 
 
 woods, O fountains, hillocks, dales, and bowers! 
 With other echo late I taught your shades 
 
 To answer, and resound far other song.' 
 Whom thus afflicted when sad Eve beheld. 
 Desolate where she sat, approaching nigh. 
 Soft words to his fierce passion she assayed ; 
 But her with stern regard he thus repelled : 
 
 ' Out of my sight, thou serpent ! That name best 
 Befits thee with him leagued, thyself as false 
 And hateful ; nothing wants, but that thy shape. 
 Like his, and colour serpentine, may show 
 Thy inward fraud ; to warn all creatures from thee 
 Henceforth ; lest that too heavenly form pretended 
 To hellish falsehood, snare them ! But for thee 
 
 1 had persisted happy : had not thy pride 
 And wandering vanity, when least was safe, 
 Rejected my forewarning, and disdained 
 Not to be trusted ; longing to be seen. 
 Though by the devil himself; him overweening 
 To over-reach ; but, with the serpent meeting, 
 Fooled and beguiled ; by him thou, I by thee. 
 To trust thee from my side ; imagined wise. 
 Constant, mature, proof against all assaults; 
 And understood not all was but a show. 
 Rather than solid virtue; all but a rib 
 Crooked by nature, bent, as now appears, 
 More to the part sinister, from me drawn ; 
 Well if thrown out, as supernumerary 
 
 To my just number found. O ! why did God. 
 Creator wise, that peopled highest heaven 
 With spirits masculine, create at last 
 This novelty on earth, this fair defect 
 
Book X. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 81 
 
 Of nature, and not fill the world at once 
 With men, as angels, without feminine ; 
 Or find some other way to g'enerate 
 Mankind ? This mischief had not then befallen, 
 And more that shall befall; innumerable 
 Disturbances on earth through female snares, 
 And strait conjunction with this sex : for either 
 He never shall find out fit mate, but such 
 As some misfortune brings him, or mistake ; 
 Or whom he wishes most shall seldom gain, 
 Through her perverseness, but shall see her gained 
 By a far worse; or, if she love, withheld 
 By parents ; or his happiest choice too late 
 Shall meet, already linked and wedlock-bound 
 To a fell adversary, his hate or shame : 
 Which infinite calamity shall cause 
 To human life, and household peace confound.' 
 He added not, and from her turned ; but Eve, 
 Not so repulsed, with tears that ceased not flowing. 
 And tresses all disordered, at his feet 
 Fell humble; and, embracing them, besought 
 His peace, and thus proceeded in her plaint : 
 
 ' Forsake me not thus, Adam ! witness heaven 
 What love sincere, and reverence in my heart 
 I bear thee, and unweeting have oflTended, 
 Unhappily deceived ! Thy suppliant 
 I beg, and clasp thy knees ; bereave me not, 
 Whereon I live, thy gentle looks, thy aid, 
 Thy counsel, in this uttermost distress, 
 My only strength and stay: forlorn of thee, 
 Whither shall I betake me, where subsist ? 
 While yet we live, scarce one short hour perhaps, 
 Between us two let there be peace ; both joining 
 As joined in injuries, one enmity 
 Against a foe by doom express assigned us, 
 That cruel serpent : on me exercise not 
 Thy hatred for this misery befallen ; 
 On me already lost, me than thyself 
 More miserable ! both have sinned ; but ibou 
 Against God only, I against God and thee ; 
 And to the place of judgment will return, 
 There with my cries importune Heaven ; that all 
 The sentence, from thy head removed, may light 
 On me, sole cause to thee of all this woe ; 
 Me, me only, just object of his ire ! ' 
 
 She ended weeping ; and her lowly plight. 
 Immoveable, till peace obtained from fault 
 Acknowledged and deplored, in Adam wrought 
 Commiseration : soon his heart relented 
 Towards her, his life so late, and sole delight. 
 Now at his feet submissive in distress ; 
 Creature so fair his reconcilement seeking. 
 His counsel, whom she had displeased, his aid : 
 As one disarmed, his anger all he lost. 
 And thus with peaceful words upraised her soon : 
 
 ' Unwary, and too desirous, as before, 
 So now of what thou knowest not, who desirest 
 The punishment all on thyself; alas ! 
 Bear thine own first, ill able to sustain 
 His full wrath, whose thou feelest as yet least part, 
 And my displeasure bearest so ill. If prayers 
 
 Could alter high decrees, I to that place 
 Would speed before thee and be louder heard, 
 That on my head all might be visited ; 
 Thy frailty and infirmer sex forgiven. 
 To me committed, and by me exposed. 
 But rise ; let us no more contend, nor blame 
 Each other, blamed enough elsewhere; but strive 
 In offices of love, how we may lighten 
 Each other's burden, in our share of woe ; 
 Since this day's death denounced, if aught I see, 
 Will prove no sudden, but a slow-paced evil; 
 A long day's dying to augment our pain. 
 And to our seed (O hapless seed !) derived.' 
 
 To whom thus Eve, recovering heart, replied : 
 * Adam, by sad experiment I know 
 How little weight my words with thee can find, 
 Found so erroneous ; thence by just event 
 Found so unfortunate : nevertheless. 
 Restored by thee, vile as I am, to place 
 Of new acceptance, hopeful to regain 
 Thy love, the sole contentment of my heart 
 Living or dying, from thee I will not hide 
 What thoughts in my unquiet breast are risen. 
 Tending to some relief of our extremes, 
 Or end ; though sharp and sad, yet tolerable, 
 As iu our evils, and of easier choice. 
 If care of our descent perplex us most, 
 Which must be born to certain woe, devoured 
 By death at last ; and miserable it is, 
 To be to others cause of misery. 
 Our own begotten, and of our loins to bring 
 Into this cursed world a woeful race. 
 That after wretched life must be at last 
 Food for so foul a monster ; in thy power 
 It lies, yet ere conception to prevent 
 The race unblest, to being yet unbegot. 
 Childless thou art, childless remain : so Death 
 Shall be deceived his glut, and with us two 
 Be forced to satisfy his ravenous maw. 
 But if thou judge it bard and difficult. 
 Conversing, looking, loving, to abstain 
 From love's due rites, nuptial embraces sweet ; 
 And with desire to languish without hope. 
 Before the present object languishing 
 With like desire ; which would be misery 
 And torment less than none of what we dread ; 
 Then, both ourselves and seed at once to free 
 From what we fear for both, let us make short, 
 Let us seek Death ; or, he not found, supply 
 With our own hands his office on ourselves. 
 Why stand we longer shivering under fears 
 That show no end but death, and have the power, 
 Of many ways to die the shortest choosing. 
 Destruction with destruction to destroy.-" 
 
 She ended here, or vehement despair 
 Broke ofi'the rest ; so much of death her thoughts 
 Had entertained, as dyed her cheeks with pale. 
 But Adam with such counsel nothing swayed, 
 To better hopes his more attentive mind 
 Labouring had raised ; and thus to Eve replied : 
 
 ' Eve, thy contempt of life and pleasure seems 
 
 4 
 
M 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Boor X. 
 
 To argue in thee something' more sublime 
 
 And excellent, than what thj mind contemns ; 
 
 But self-destruction therefore sought, refutes 
 
 That excellence thought in thee ; and implies, 
 
 Not thy contempt, but anguish and regret 
 
 For loss of life and pleasure orerloved. 
 
 Or if thou covet death, as utmost end 
 
 Of misery, so thinking to evade 
 
 The penalty pronounced ; doubt not but God 
 
 Hath wiselier armed his venjfeful ire, than so 
 
 To be forestalled ; much more I fear lest death, 
 
 So snatched, will not exempt us from the pain 
 
 We are by doom to pay ; rather such acts 
 
 Of contumacy w**^ S?ovoke the Highest 
 
 To make death iti f.-s'live : then let us seek 
 
 Some safer resolution, which methinks 
 
 I have in view, calling to mind with heed 
 
 Part of our sentence, that thy seed shall bruise 
 
 The serpent's head ; piteous amends ! unless 
 
 Be meant, whom I conjecture, our grand foe, 
 
 Satan ; who, in the serpent, hath contrived 
 
 Against us this deceit : to crush his head 
 
 Would be revenge indeed ! which will be lost 
 
 By death brought on ourselves, or childless days 
 
 Resolved, as thou proposest; so our foe 
 
 Shall 'scape his punishment ordained, and we 
 
 Instead shall double ours upon our heads. 
 
 No more be mentioned then of violence 
 
 Against ourselves ; and wilful barrenness 
 
 That cuts us off from hope ; and savours only 
 
 Rancour and pride, impatience and despite, 
 
 Reluctance against God and his just yoke 
 
 Laid on our necks. Remember with what mild 
 
 And gracious temper he both heard and judged, 
 
 Without wrath or reviling ; we expected 
 
 Immediate dissolution, which we thought 
 
 Was meant by death that day ; when, lo ! to thee 
 
 Pains only in childbearing were foretold, 
 
 And bringing forth ; soon recompensed with joy. 
 
 Fruit of thy womb : on me the curse aslope 
 
 Glanced on the ground ; with labour I must earn 
 
 My bread ; what harm ? Idleness had been worse ; 
 
 My labour will sustain me ; and, lest cold 
 
 Or heat should injure us, his timely care 
 
 Hath, unbesought, provided ; and his bands 
 
 Clothed us unworthy, pitying while he judged; 
 
 How much more, if we pray him, will his ear 
 Be open, and his heart to pity incline. 
 And teach us further by what means to shun 
 The inclement seasons, rain, ice, hail, and snow .•* 
 Which now the sky, with various face, begins 
 To show us in this mountain ; while the winds 
 Blow moist and keen, shattering the graceful locks 
 Of these fair-spreading trees; whicii bids us seek 
 Some better shroud, some better warmth to cherish 
 Our limbs benumbed, ere this diurnal star 
 Leave cold the night, how we his gathered beams 
 Reflected may with matter sere foment ; 
 Or, by collision of two bodies, grind 
 The air attrite to fire ; as late the clouds 
 Justling, or pushed with winds, rude in their shock. 
 Tine the slant lightning; whose thwart flame driven 
 
 down, 
 Kindles the gummy bark of fir or pine. 
 And sends a comfortable heat from far 
 Which might supply the sun : such fire to use 
 And what may else be remedy or cure 
 To evils which our own misdeeds have wrought, 
 He will instruct us praying, and of grace 
 Beseeching him ; so as we need not fear 
 To pass commodiously this life, sustained 
 By him with many comforts, till we end 
 In dust, our final rest and native home. 
 What better can we do, than, to the place 
 Repairing where he judged us, prostrate fall, 
 Before him reverent ; and there confess 
 Humbly our faults, and pardon beg ; with tears 
 Watering the ground, and with our sighs the air 
 Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
 Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek."" 
 Undoubtedly he will relent, and turn 
 From his displeasure ; in whose look serene. 
 When angry most he seemed and most severe, 
 What else but favour, grace, and mercy shone?' 
 
 So spake our father penitent ; nor Eve 
 Felt less remorse; they, forthwith to the place 
 Repairing where he judged them, prostrate fell 
 Before him reverent ; and both confessed 
 Humbly their faults, and pardon begged ; with teai-s 
 Watering the ground, and with their sighs the air 
 Frequenting, sent from hearts contrite, in sign 
 Of sorrow unfeigned, and humiliation meek. 
 
Book XI. 
 
 PARADISE LOST 
 
 83 
 
 BOOK XL 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Son of God presents to his Father the prayers of our first parents now repentiner, and intercedes for them : God accepts them, 
 but declares that they must no longer abide in Paradise ; sends Michael with a band of cherubim to dispossess them ; but first to 
 reveal to Adam future things: Michael's coming: down. Adam shows to Eve certain ominous signs; he discerns Michael's ap- 
 
 I)roach; goes out to meet him: the angel denounces their departure. Eve's lamentation. Adam pleads, but submits : the angel 
 eads him up to a high hill ; sets before him in vision what shall happen till the flood. 
 
 Thus they, in lowliest plight, repentant stood 
 
 Praying ; for from the mercy-seat above 
 
 Prevenient grace descending had removed 
 
 The stony from their hearts, and made new flesh 
 
 Regenerate grow instead ; that sighs now breathed 
 
 Unutterable; which the Spirit of prayer 
 
 Inspired, and winged for heaven with speedier flight 
 
 Than loudest oratory : yet their port 
 
 Not of mean suitors; nor important less 
 
 Seemed their petition, than when the ancient pair 
 
 In fables old, less ancient yet than these, 
 
 Deucalion and chaste Pyrrha, to restore 
 
 The race of mankind drowned, before the shrine 
 
 Of Themis stood devout. To heaven their prayers 
 
 Flew up, nor missed the way, by envious winds 
 
 Blown vagabond or frustrate : in they passed 
 
 Dimensionless through heavenly doors ; then clad 
 
 With incense, where the golden altar fumed. 
 
 By their great Intercessor, came in sight 
 
 Before the Father's throne : them the glad Son 
 
 Presenting, thus to intercede began : 
 
 ' Sec, Father, what first-fruits on earth are sprung 
 From thy implanted grace in man ; these sighs 
 And prayers, which in this golden censer, mixed 
 With incense, I thy priest before thee bring ; 
 Fruits of more pleasing savour, from thy seed 
 Sown with contrition in his heart, than those 
 Which, his own hand manuring, all the trees 
 Of Paradise could have produced ere fallen 
 Froni innocence. Now therefore bend thine ear 
 To supplication ; hear his sighs, though mute ; 
 Unskilful with what words to pray, let me 
 Interpret for him; me, his advocate 
 And propitiation ; all his works on me. 
 Good, or not good, ingraft; my merit those 
 Shall perfect, and for these my death shall pay. 
 Accept me ; and, in me, from these receive 
 The smell of peace toward mankind : let him live 
 Before thee reconciled, at least his days 
 Numbered though sad ; till death, his doom, (which I 
 To mitigate thus plead, not to reverse,) 
 To better life shall yield him ; where with me 
 All my redeemed may dwell in joy and bliss; 
 Made one with me, as I with thee am one.' 
 
 To whom the Father, without cloud, serene : 
 ' All thy request for man, accepted Son, 
 Obtain ; all thy request was my decree : 
 
 But, longer in that Paradise to dwell, 
 G 2 
 
 The law I gave to nature him fo 
 
 Those pure immortal elements th .»now 
 
 No gross, no unharmonious mixture ft)ul. 
 
 Eject him, tainted now; and purge him ofl". 
 
 As a distemper, gross, to air as gross. 
 
 And mortal food: as may dispose him best 
 
 For dissolution wrought by sin, that first 
 
 Distempered all things, and of incorrupt 
 
 Corrupted. I, at first, with two fair gifts 
 
 Created him endowed ; with happiness. 
 
 And immortality : that fondly lost. 
 
 This other served but to eternize woe ; 
 
 Till I provided death : so death becomes 
 
 His final remedy ; and, after life, 
 
 Tried in sharp tribulation, and refined. 
 
 By faith and faithful works, to second life, 
 
 Waked in the renovation of the just. 
 
 Resigns him up with heaven and earth renewed. 
 
 But let us call to synod all the blest. 
 
 Through heaven's wide bounds : from them I will not 
 
 hide 
 My judgments : how with mankind I proceed. 
 As how with peccant angels late they saw. 
 And in their state, though firm, stood more confirmed.' 
 
 He ended, and the Son gave signal high 
 To the bright minister that watched ; he blew 
 His trumpet, heard in Oreb since perhaps 
 When God descended, and perhaps once more 
 To sound at general doom. The angelic blast 
 Filled all the regions : from their blissful bowers 
 Of amaranthine shade, fountain or spring, 
 By the waters of life, where'er they sat 
 In fellowships of joy, the sons of light 
 Hasted, resorting to the summons high ; 
 And took their seats : till from his throne supreme 
 The Almighty thus pronounced his sovran will : 
 
 ' O sons, like one of us man is become 
 To know both good and evil, since his taste 
 Of that defended fruit; but let him boast 
 His knowledge of good lost, and evil got ; 
 Happier, had it sufficed him to have known 
 Good by itself, and evil not at all. 
 He sorrows now, repents, and prays contrite, 
 My motions in him ; longer than they move, 
 His heart I know how variable and vain, 
 Self-left. Lest therefore his now bolder hand 
 Reach also of the tree of life, and eat. 
 And live for ever, dream at least to live 
 
84 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book XI. 
 
 For ever, to remove him I decree, 
 
 Aud send him from the garden forth to till 
 
 The ground whence he was taken, fitter soil. 
 
 Michael, this my behest have thou in charge ; 
 
 Take to thee from among the cherubim 
 
 Thj choice of flaming warriors, lest the fiend, 
 
 Or in behalf of man, or to invade 
 
 Vacant possession, some new trouble raise : 
 
 Haste thee, and from the Paradise of God 
 
 Without remorse drive out the sinful pair; 
 
 From hallowed ground the unholy ; and denounce 
 
 To them, and to their progeny, from thence 
 
 Perpetual banishment. Yet, lest they faint 
 
 At the sad sentence rigorously urged, 
 
 (For I behold them softened, and with tears 
 
 Bewailing their excess,) all terror hide. 
 
 If patiently thy bidding they obey. 
 
 Dismiss them not disconsolate ; reveal 
 
 To Adam what shall come in future days. 
 
 As I shall thee enlighten ; intermix 
 
 My covenant in the woman's seed renewed ; 
 
 So send them forth, though sorrowing, yet in peace : 
 
 And on the cast side of the garden place. 
 
 Where entrance up from Eden easiest climbs. 
 
 Cherubic watch ; and of a sword the flame 
 
 Wide-waving ; all approach far off to fright, 
 
 And guard all passage to the tree of life ; 
 
 Lest Paradise a receptacle prove 
 
 To spirits foul, and all my trees their prey ; 
 
 With whose stolen fruit man once more to delude.' 
 
 He ceased ; and the archanoelic power prepared 
 For swift descent; with him the cohort bright 
 Of watchful cherubim : four faces each 
 Had, like a double Janus ; all their shape 
 Spangled with eyes more numerous than those 
 Of Argus, and more wakeful than to drowse, 
 Charmed with Arcadian pipe, the pastoral reed 
 Of Hermes, or his opiate rod. Meanwhile, 
 To re-salute the world with sacred light, 
 Leucothea waked, and with fresh dews embalmed 
 The earth ; when Adam and first matron Eve 
 Had ended now their orisons, and found 
 Strength added from above ; new hope to spring 
 Out of despair ; joy but with fear yet linked ; 
 Which thus to Eve his welcome words renewed : 
 
 ' Eve, easily may faith admit, that all 
 The good which we enjoy from heaven descends; 
 But, that from us aught should ascend to heaven 
 So prevalent as to concern the mind 
 Of God high-blest, or to incline his will. 
 Hard to belief may seem ; yet this will praj'er. 
 Or one short sigh of human breath, upborne 
 Even to the seat of God. For since I sought 
 By prayer the offended Deity to appease, 
 Kneeled, and before him humbled all my heart; 
 Methouglit I saw him placable and mild 
 Bending his ear ; persuasion in me grew 
 That I was beard with favour; peace returned 
 Home to my breast, and to my memory 
 His promise, that thy seed shall bruise our foe ; 
 Which, then not minded in dismay, yet now 
 
 Assures me that the bitterness of death 
 Is past, and we shall live. Whence hail to thee. 
 Eve rightly called, mother of all mankind, 
 Mother of all things living, since by thee 
 Man is to live ; and all things live for man.' 
 
 To whom thus Eve with sad demeanour meek : 
 * Ill-worthy I, such title should belong 
 To me transgressor ; who, for thee ordained 
 A help, became thy snare ; to me reproach 
 Rather belongs, distrust, and all dispraise: 
 But infinite in pardon was my Judge, 
 That T, who first brought death on all, am graced 
 The source of life ; next favourable thou, I 
 
 Who highly thus to entitle me vouchsafest, ' 
 
 Far other name deserving. But the field 
 To labour calls us, now with sweat imposed. 
 Though after sleepless night ; for see ! the morn, 
 All unconcerned with our unrest, begins 
 Her rosy progress smiling : let us forth ; 
 I never from thy side henceforth to stray, I 
 
 Where'er our day's work lies, though now enjoined 
 Laborious till day droop ; while here we dwell, 
 What can be toilsome in these pleasant walks ? 
 Here let us live, though in fallen state, content.' 
 
 So spake, so wished much-humbled Eve; but fate 
 Subscribed not: nature first gave signs, impressed 
 On bird, beast, air; air suddenly eclipsed. 
 After short blush of morn : nigh in her sight 
 The bird of Jove, stooped from his aery tour, 
 Two birds of gayest plume before him drove; 
 Down from a hill the beast that reigns in woods, 
 First hunter then, pursued a gentle brace. 
 Goodliest of all the forest, hart and hind ; 
 Direct to the eastern gate was bent their flight. 
 Adam observed, and with his eye the chase 
 Pursuing, not unmoved, to Eve thus spake : 
 
 * O Eve, some further change awaits us nigh, 
 Which Heaven, by these mute signs in nature, shows 
 Forerunners of his purpose ; or to warn 
 Us, haply too secure of our discharge 
 From penalty, because from death released 
 Some days : how long, and what till then our life. 
 Who knows ? or more than this, that we are dust, 
 And thither must return, and be no more ? 
 Why else this double object in our sight 
 Of flight pursued in the air, and o'er the ground. 
 One way the self-same hour? why in the east 
 Darkness ere day's mid-course, and morning-light 
 More orient in yon western cloud, that draws 
 O'er the blue firmament a radiant white. 
 And slow descends with something heavenly fraught?* 
 
 He erred not ; for by this the heavenly bands 
 Down from a sky of jasper lighted now 
 In Paradise, and on a hill made halt ; 
 A glorious apparition, had not doubt 
 And carnal fear that day dimmed Adam's eye. 
 Not that more glorious, when the angels met 
 Jacob in Mahanaim, where he saw 
 The field pavilioned with his guardians bright; 
 Nor that, which on the flaming mount appeared 
 In Dothan, covered with a camp of fire, 
 
 H 
 
Book XT. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 85 
 
 Ag'ainst the Syrian kingf, who to surprise 
 
 One man, assassin like, had levied war, 
 
 War unproclaimed. The princely bierarch 
 
 In their bright stand there left his powers, to seize 
 
 Possession of the garden ; he alone, 
 
 To find where Adam sheltered, took his way. 
 
 Not unperceived of Adam ; who to Eve, 
 
 While the great visitant approached, thus spake: 
 
 ' Eve, now expect great tidings, which perhaps 
 Of us will soon determine, or impose 
 New laws to be observed ; for I descry. 
 From yonder blazing cloud that veils the hill. 
 One of the heavenly host; and, by his gait, 
 None of the meanest ; some great potentate, 
 Or of the thrones above; such majesty 
 Invests him coming: yet not terrible. 
 That I should fear; nor sociably mild, 
 As Raphael, that I should much confide ; 
 But solemn and sublime ; whom not to offend. 
 With reverence I must meet, and thou retire.' 
 
 He ended ; and the archangel soon drew nigh, 
 Not in his shape celestial, but as man 
 Clad to meet man ; over his lucid arms 
 A military vest of purple flowed, 
 Livelier than Melibiean, or the grain 
 Of Sarra, worn by kings and heroes old 
 In time of truce ; Iris had dipt the woof; 
 His starry helm unbuckled showed him prime 
 In manhood where youth ended ; by his side. 
 As in a glistering zodiac, hung the sword, 
 Satan's dire dread ; and in his hand the spear. 
 Adam bowed low ; he, kingly, from his state 
 Inclined not, but his coming thus declared : 
 
 'Adam, heaven's high behest no preface needs: 
 Sufficient that thy prayers are heard ; and death. 
 Then due by sentence when thou didst transgress, 
 Defeated of his seizure many days 
 Given thee of grace ; wherein thou mayst repent. 
 And one bad act with many deeds well done 
 Mayst cover: well may then thy Lord, appeased, 
 Redeem thee quite from death's rapacious claim ; 
 But longer in this Paradise to dwell 
 Permits not: to remove thee I am come, 
 And send thee from the garden forth to till 
 The ground whence thou wast taken, fitter soil.' 
 
 He added not; for Adam at the news 
 Heart-struck with chilling gripe of sorrow stood. 
 That all his senses bound ; Eve, who unseen 
 Yet all had heard, with audible lament 
 Discovered soon the place of her retire. 
 
 ' O unexpected stroke, worse than of death ! 
 Must I thus leave thee, Paradise ? thus leave 
 Thee, native soil ? these happy walks and shades. 
 Fit haunt of gods .•' where I had hope to spend, 
 Quiet though sad, the respite of that day 
 That must be mortal to us both. O flowers, 
 That never will in other climate grow, 
 My early visitation, and my last 
 At even, which I bred up with tender hand 
 From the first opening bud, and gave ye names! 
 Who now shall rear ye to the sun, or rank 
 
 Your tribes, and water from the ambrosial fount ? 
 Thee lastly, nuptial bower ! by me adorned 
 With what to sight or smell was sweet ! from thee 
 How shall I part, and whither wander down 
 Into a lower world ; to this obscure 
 And wild ? how shall we breathe the other air 
 Less pure, accustomed to immortal fruits?' 
 
 Whom thus the angel interrupted mild : 
 * Lament not, Eve, but patiently resign 
 What justly thou hast lost, nor set thy heart, 
 Thus over-fond, on that which is not thine : 
 Thy going is not lonely ; with thee goes 
 Thy husband ; him to follow thou art bound ; 
 Where he abides, think there thy native soil.' 
 
 Adam, by this from the cold sudden damp 
 Recovering, and his scattered spirits returned, 
 To Michael thus his humble words addressed : 
 
 ' Celestial, whether among the thrones, or named 
 Of them the highest ; for such of shape may seem 
 Prince above princes ; gently hast thou told 
 Thy message, which might else in telling wound, 
 And in performing end us ; what besides 
 Of sorrow, and dejection, and despair. 
 Our frailty can sustain, thy tidings bring. 
 Departure from this happy place, our sweet 
 Recess, and only consolation left 
 Familiar to our eyes ! all places else 
 Inhospitable appear, and desolate ; 
 Nor knowing us, nor known : and, if by prayer 
 Incessant I could hope to change the will 
 Of him who all things can, I would not cease 
 To weary him with my assiduous cries : 
 But prayer against his absolute decree 
 No more avails than breath against the wind, 
 Blown stifling back on him that breathes it forth : 
 Therefore to his great bidding I submit. 
 This most afflicts me, that, departing hence, 
 As from his face I shall be hid, deprived 
 His blessed countenance : here I could frequent 
 With worship place by place where he vouchsafed 
 Presence Divine ; and to my sons relate, 
 " On this mount he appeared ; under this tree 
 Stood visible ; among these pines his voice 
 I heard; here with him at this fountain talked:" 
 So many grateful altars I would rear 
 Of grassy turf, and pile up every stone 
 Of lustre from the brook, in memory 
 Or monument to ages ; and thereon 
 Offer sweet-smelling gums, and fruits, and flowers : 
 In yonder nether world where shall I seek 
 His bright appearances, or foot-step trace ? 
 For though I fled him angry, yet, recalled 
 To life prolonged and promised race, I now 
 Gladly behold though but his utmost skirts 
 Of glory ; and far off his steps adore.' 
 
 To whom thus Michael with regard benign : 
 ' Adam, thou knowest heaven his, and all the earth 
 Not this rock only; his omnipresence fills 
 Land, sea, and air, and every kind that lives. 
 Fomented by his virtual power and warmed : 
 All the earth he gave thee to possess and rule. 
 
86 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book, XI. 
 
 No despicable gift; surmise not then 
 
 His presence to these narrow bounds confined 
 
 Of Paradise, or Eden : this had been 
 
 Perhaps thy capital seat, from whence had spread 
 
 All generations ; and had hither come 
 
 From all the ends of the earth, to celebrate 
 
 And reverence thee, their great proy^enitor. 
 
 But this pre-eminence thou hast lost, brought down 
 
 To dwell on even ground now with thv sous : 
 
 Yet doubt not but in vallej', and in plain, 
 
 God is, as here, and will be found alike 
 
 Present ; and of his presence many a sign 
 
 Still following thee, still compassing thee round 
 
 With goodness and paternal love, his face 
 
 Express, and of his steps the track divine. 
 
 Which that thou mayest believe, and be confirmed 
 
 Ere thou from hence depart ; know, I am sent 
 
 To show thee what shall come in future days 
 
 To thee, and to thy offspring : good with bad 
 
 Expect to bear; supernal grace contending 
 
 With sinfulness of men; thereby to learn 
 
 True patience, and to temper joy with fear 
 
 And pious sorrow ; equally inured 
 
 By moderation either state to bear, 
 
 Prosperous or adverse : so shalt thou lead 
 
 Safest thy life, and best prepared endure 
 
 Thy mortal passage when it comes. Ascend 
 
 This hill ; let Eve (for I have drenched her eyes) 
 
 Here sleep below, while thou to foresight wakest; 
 
 As once thou slept'st, while she to life was formed.' 
 
 To whom thus Adam gratefully replied : 
 * Ascend, I follow thee, safe guide, the path 
 Thou leadest me; and to the hand of Heaven submit, 
 However chastening; to the evil turn 
 My obvious breast ; arming to overcome 
 By suffering, and earn rest from labour won. 
 If so I may attain.' So both ascend 
 In the visions of God. It was a hill, 
 Of Paradise the highest ; from whose top 
 The hemisphere of earth, in clearest ken, 
 Stretched out to the amplest reach of prospect lay. 
 Not higher that hill, nor wider looking round, 
 Whereon, for different cause, the tempter set 
 Our second Adam, in the wilderness ; 
 To show him all earth's kingdoms, and their glory. 
 His eye might there command wherever stood 
 City of old or modern fame, the seat 
 Of mightiest empire, from the destined walls 
 Of Cambala, seat of Cathaian Can, 
 And Samarchand by Oxus, Temir's throne, 
 To Paquin of Sincean kings; and thence 
 To Agra and Labor of Great Mogul, 
 Down to the Golden Chersonese; or where 
 The Persian in Ecbatan sat, or since 
 In Hispahan ; or where the Russian kzar 
 In Mosco ; or the sultan in Bizance, 
 Turchestan-bom ; nor could his eye not ken 
 The empire of Negus to his utmost port 
 Ercoco, and the less maritime kings 
 Mombaza, and Quiloa, and Melind, 
 And Sofala, thought Ophir, to the realm 
 
 Of Congo, and Angola farthest south ; 
 Or thence from Niger flood to Atlas mount 
 The kingdoms of Almansor, Fez and Sus, 
 Morocco, and Algiers, and Tremisen ; 
 On Europe thence, and where Rome was to sway 
 The world : in spirit perhaps he also saw 
 Rich Mexico, the seat of Montezume, 
 And Cusco in Peru, the richer seat 
 Of Atabalipa ; and yet unspoiled 
 Guiana, whose great city Geryon's sons 
 Call El Dorado. But to nobler sights 
 Michael from Adam's eyes the film removed, 
 Which that false fruit that promised clearer sight 
 Had bred; then purged with euphrasy and rue 
 The visual nerve, for he had much to see ; 
 And from the well of life three drops instilled. 
 So deep the power of these ingredients pierced. 
 Even to the inmost seat of mental sight. 
 That Adam, now enforced to close his eyes. 
 Sunk down, and all his spirits became entranced ; 
 But him the gentle angel by the hand 
 Soon raised, and his attention thus recalled : 
 
 ' Adam, now ope thine eyes ; and first behold 
 The effects, which thy original crime hath wrought 
 In some to spring from thee ; who never touched 
 The excepted tree ; nor with the snake conspired ; 
 Nor sinned thy sin ; yet from that sin derive 
 Corruption, to bring forth more violent deeds.' 
 
 His eyes he opened, and beheld a field, 
 Part arable and tilth, whereon were sheaves 
 New-reaped ; the other part sheep-walks and folds ; 
 I' the midst an altar as the land-mark stood 
 Rustic, of grassy sward ; thither anon 
 A sweaty reaper from his tillage brought 
 First-fruits, the green ear, and the yellow sheaf, 
 Unculled, as came to hand ; a shepherd next. 
 More meek, came with the firstlings of his flock, 
 Choicest and best ; then, sacrificing, laid 
 The inwards and their fat, with incense strewed 
 On the cleft wood, and all due rites performed : 
 His offering soon propitious fire from heaven 
 Consumed with nimble glance, and grateful steam : 
 The other's not, for his was not sincere ; 
 Whereat he inly raged, and, as they talked. 
 Smote him into the midriff with a stone 
 That beat out life : he fell ; and, deadly pale, 
 Groaned out his soul with gushing blood effused. 
 Much at that sight was Adam in his heart 
 Dismayed, and thus in haste to the angel cried : 
 
 ' O teacher, some great mischief hath befallen 
 To that meek man, who well had saciificed ; 
 Is piety thus and pure devotion paid .•" 
 
 To whom Michael thus, he also moved, replied : 
 ' These two are brethren, Adam, and to come 
 Out of thy loins; the unjust the just hath slain, 
 For envy that his brother's offering found 
 From heaven acceptance ; but the bloody fact 
 Will be avenged ; and the other's faith, approved, 
 Lose no reward ; though here thou see him die, 
 Rolling in dust and gore.' To which our sire : 
 
 * Alas ! both for the deed, and for the cause ! 
 
Book XI. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 87 
 
 But have I now seen death ? Is this the way 
 I must return to native dust? O sight 
 Of terror, foul and ug'ly to behold, 
 Horrid to think, how horrible to feel !' 
 
 To whom thus Michael : * Death thou hast seen 
 In his first shape on man ; but many shapes 
 Of death, and many are the ways that lead 
 To his grim cave, all dismal ; yet to sense 
 More terrible at the entrance, than within. 
 Some, as thou sawest, by violent stroke shall die ; 
 By fire, flood, famine, by intemperance more 
 In meats and dnnks, which on the earth shall bring 
 Diseases dire, of which a monstrous crew 
 Before thee shall appear ; that thou mayest know 
 What misery the inabstinencc of Eve 
 Shall bring' on men.' Immediately a place 
 Before his eyes appeared, sad, noisome, dark ; 
 A lazar-house it seemed ; wherein were laid 
 Numbers of all diseased ; all maladies 
 Of ghastly spasm, or racking torture, qualms 
 Of heart-sick agony, all feverous kinds, 
 Convulsions, epilepsies, fierce catarrhs. 
 Intestine stone and ulcer, colic pangs. 
 Demoniac phrensy, moping melancholy, 
 And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy, 
 Marasmus, and wide-w asting pestilence, 
 Dropsies, and asthmas, and joint-racking rheums. 
 Dire was the tossing, deep tiie groans ; Despair 
 Tended the sick, busiest from couch to couch ; 
 And over them triumphant Death his dart 
 Shook, but delayed to strike, though oft invoked 
 With vows, as their chief good, and final hope. 
 Sight so deform what heart of rock could long 
 Dry -eyed behold ? Adam could not, but wept. 
 Though not of woman born ; compassion quelled 
 His best of man, and gave him up to tears 
 A space, till firmer thoughts restrained excess ; 
 And scarce recovering words, his plaint renewed : 
 
 ' O miserable mankind, to what fall 
 Degraded, to what wretched state reserved ! 
 Better end here unborn. Why is life given 
 To be thus wrested from us .'' rather, why 
 Obtruded on us thus? who, if we knew 
 What we receive, would either not accept 
 I<ife offered, or soon beg to lay it down ; 
 Glad to be so dismissed in peace. Can thus 
 The image of God in man, created once 
 So goodly and erect, though faulty since, 
 To such unsightly sufferings be debased 
 Under in human pains? Why should not man, 
 Retaining still divine similitude 
 In part, from such deformities be free. 
 And, for his Maker's image sake, exempt ?' 
 
 ' Their Maker's image,' answered Michael, ' then 
 Forsook them, when themselves they vilified 
 To serve ungoverned appetite ; and took 
 His image whom they served, a brutish vice, 
 Inductive mainly to the sin of Eve. 
 Therefore so abject is their punishment. 
 Disfiguring not God's likeness, but their own ; 
 Or if his likeness, by themselves defaced ; 
 
 While they pervert pure nature's healthful rules 
 To loathsome sickness ; worthily, since they 
 God's image did not reverence in themselves.' 
 
 ' I yield it just,' said Adam, ' and submit. 
 But is there yet no other way, besides 
 These painful passages, how we may come 
 To death, and mix with our connatural dust ? ' 
 
 ' There is,' said Michael, ' if thou well observe 
 The rule of" Not too much;" by temperance taught. 
 In what thou eatest and drinkest; seeking from 
 
 thence 
 Due nourishment, not gluttonous delight. 
 Till many years over thy head return : 
 So mayest thou live ; till, like ripe fruit, thou drop 
 Into thy mother's lap ; or be with ease 
 Gathered, not harshly plucked ; for death mature : 
 This is old age ; but then, thou must outlive 
 Tby youth, thy strength, thy beauty : which will 
 
 change 
 To withered, weak, and gray ; thy senses then. 
 Obtuse, all taste of pleasure must forego. 
 To what thou hast ; and for the air of youth. 
 Hopeful and cheerful, in thy blood will reign 
 A melancholy damp of cold and dry. 
 To weigh thy spirits down, and last consume 
 The balm of life.' To whom our ancestor : 
 
 ' Henceforth I fly not death, nor would prolong 
 Life much ; bent rather, how I may be quit. 
 Fairest and easiest, of this cumbrous ciiarge ; 
 Which I must keep till my appointed day 
 Of rendering up, and patiently attend 
 My dissolution.' Michael replied : 
 
 ' Nor love thy life, nor hate ; but what thou livest 
 Live well ; how long, or short, permit to Heaven : 
 And now prepare thee for another sight.' 
 
 He looked, and saw a spacious plain, whereon 
 Were tents of various hues ; by some, were herds 
 Of cattle grazing ; others, whence the sound 
 Of instruments, that made melodious chime. 
 Was heard, of harp and organ ; and who moved 
 Their stops and chords was seen ; his volant touch 
 Instinct through all proportions, low and high. 
 Fled and pursued transverse the resonant fugue. 
 In other part stood one who, at the forge 
 Labouring, two massy clods of iron and brass 
 Had melted (whether found where casual fire 
 Had wasted woods on mountain or in vale, 
 Down to the veins of earth ; thence gliding hot 
 To some cave's mouth ; or whether washed by stream 
 From under ground) ; the liquid ore he drained 
 Into fit moulds prepared ; from which he formed 
 First his own tools ; then, what might else be wrought 
 Fusil or graven in metal. After these. 
 But on the hither side, a different sort 
 From the high neighbouring hills, which was their 
 
 seat, 
 Down to the plain descended ; by their guise 
 Just men they seemed, and all their study bent 
 To worship God aright, and know his works 
 Not hid ; nor those things last, which might preserve 
 Freedom and peace to men : they on the plain 
 
w 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book XI. 
 
 Ix>ng had not walked, when from the tents, behold ! 
 
 A bevy of fair women, richly fjay 
 
 In g'ems and wanton dress ; to the harp they sung* 
 
 Soft amorous ditties, and in dance came on : 
 
 The men, though grave, eyed them ; and let their eyes 
 
 Rove without rein ; till, in the amorous net 
 
 Fast caught, they liked ; and each his liking chose. 
 
 And now of love they treat, till the evening star. 
 
 Love's harbinger, appeared ; then, all in heat. 
 
 They light the nuptial torch, and bid invoke 
 
 Hymen, then first to marriage rites invoked: 
 
 With feast and music all the tents resound. 
 
 Such happy interview, and fair event 
 
 Of love and youth not lost, songs, garlands, flowers. 
 
 And charming symphonies, attached the heart 
 
 Of Adam, soon inclined to admit delight, 
 
 The bent of nature ; which he thus expressed : 
 
 * True opener of mine eyes, prime angel blest ; 
 Much better seems this vision, and more hope 
 Of peaceful days portends, than those two past ; 
 Those were of hate and death, or pain much worse; 
 Here nature seems fulfilled in all her ends.' 
 
 To whom thus Michael : ' Judge not what is best 
 By pleasure, though to nature seeming meet; 
 Created as thou art, to nobler end 
 Holy and pure, conformity divine. 
 Those tents thou sawest so pleasant, were the tents 
 Of wickedness, wherein shall dwell his race 
 Who slew his brother ; studious they appear 
 Of arts that polish life, inventors rare ; 
 Unmindful of their Maker, though his Spirit 
 Taught them ; but they his gifts acknowledged none. 
 Yet they a beauteous oflTspring shall beget ; 
 For that fair female troop thou sawest, that seemed 
 Of goddesses, so blithe, so smooth, so gay, 
 Yet empty of all good, wherein consists 
 Woman's domestic honour and chief praise. 
 Bred only and completed to the taste 
 Of lustful appetence, to sing, to dance. 
 To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye. 
 To these that sober race of men, whose lives 
 Religious titled them the sons of God, 
 Shall yield up all their virtue, all their fame 
 Ignobly, to the trains and to the smiles 
 Of these fair atheists ; and now swim in joy. 
 Ere long to swim at large ; and laugh, for which 
 The world ere long a world of tears must weep.' 
 
 To whom thus Adam, of short joy bereft: 
 ' O pity and shame, that they, who to live well 
 Entered .so fair, should turn aside to tread 
 Paths indirect, or in the midway faint ! 
 But still I see the tenour of man's woe 
 Holds on the same, from woman to begin.' 
 
 ' From man's efl^eminate slackness it begins,' 
 Said the angel, ' who should better hold his place 
 By wisdom, and superior g^fts received. 
 But now prepare thee for another scene.' 
 
 He looked, and saw wide territory spread 
 Before him, towns, and rural works between ; 
 Cities of men with lofty gates and towers. 
 Concourse in arms, fierce faces threatening war. 
 
 Giants of mighty bone, and bold emprise ; 
 
 Part wield their arms, part curb the foaming steed, 
 
 Single or in array of battle ranged 
 
 Both horse and foot, nor idly mustering stood ; 
 
 One way a band select from forage drives 
 
 A herd of beeves, fair oxen and fair kine. 
 
 From a fat meadow-ground ; or rieecy fluck. 
 
 Ewes and their bleating lambs over the plain. 
 
 Their booty; scarce with life the shepherds fly, 
 
 But call in aid, which makes a bloody fray ; 
 
 With cruel tournament the squadrons join; 
 
 Where cattle pastured late, now scattered lies 
 
 With carcasses and arms the ensanguined field. 
 
 Deserted : others to a city strong 
 
 Lay siege, encamped ; by battery, scale, and mine, 
 
 Assaulting: others from the wall defend 
 
 With dart and javelin, stones, and sulphurous fire; 
 
 On each hand slaughter, and gigantic deeds. 
 
 In other part the sceptered heralds call 
 
 To council, in the city-gates ; anon 
 
 Gray-headed men and grave, with wan-iors mixed. 
 
 Assemble, and harangues are heard ; but soon. 
 
 In factious opposition ; till at last 
 
 Of middle age one rising, eminent 
 
 In wise deport, spake much of right and wrong. 
 
 Of justice, of religion, truth, and peace. 
 
 And judgment from above : him old and young 
 
 Exploded, and had seized with violent hands; 
 
 Had not a cloud descending snatched him thence, 
 
 Unseen amid the throng : so violence 
 
 Proceeded, and oppression, and sword-law, 
 
 Through all the plain, and refuge none was found. 
 
 Adam was all in tears, and to his guide 
 
 Lamenting turned full sad : ' O what are these. 
 
 Death's ministers, not men ? who thus deal death 
 
 Inhumanly to men, and multiply 
 
 Ten thousandfold the sin of him who slew 
 
 His brother: for of whom such massacre 
 
 Make they, but of their brethren ; men of men ? 
 
 But who was that just man, whom had not Heaven 
 
 Rescued, had in his righteousness been lost.'" 
 
 To whom thus Michael: ' These are the product 
 Of those ill-mated marriages thou sawest ; 
 Where good with bad were matched, who of them- 
 selves 
 Abhor to join ; and, by imprudence mixed. 
 Produce prodigious births of body or mind. 
 Such were these giants, men of high renown ; 
 For in those days might only shall be admired. 
 And valour and heroic virtue called. 
 To overcome in battle, and subdue 
 Nations, and bring home spoils with infinite 
 Man-slaughter, shall be held the highest pitch 
 Of human glory ; and for glory done 
 Of triumph, to be styled great conquerors. 
 Patrons of mankind, gods, and sons of gods ; 
 Destroyers rightlier called, and plagues of men. 
 Thus fame shall be achieved, renown on earth ; 
 And what most merits fame in silence hid. 
 But he, the seventh from thee, whom thou beheldcst 
 'J'hc only righteous in a world perverse. 
 
Book XI. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 89 
 
 And therefore hated, therefore so beset 
 
 With foes, for daring' single to be just, 
 
 And utter odious truth, that God would come 
 
 To judge them with his saints: him the Most High 
 
 Rapt in a balmy cloud with winged steeds 
 
 Did, as thou sawest, receive, to walk with God 
 
 High in salvation and the climes of bliss, 
 
 Exempt from death ; to show thee what reward 
 
 Awaits the good ; the rest what punishment; 
 
 Which now direct thine eyes and soon behold.' 
 
 He looked, and saw the face of things quite changed; 
 The brazen throat of war had ceased to roar; 
 All now was turned to jollity and game, 
 To luxury and riot, feast and dance; 
 Marrying or prostituting, as befell. 
 Rape or adultery, where passing fair 
 Allured them ; thence from cups to civil broils. 
 At length a reverend sire among them came, 
 And of their doings great dislike declared. 
 And testified against their ways; he oft 
 Frequented their assemblies, whereso met, 
 Triumphs or festivals; and to them preached 
 Conversion and repentance, as to souls 
 In prison, under judgment imminent: 
 But all in vain : which when he saw, he ceased 
 Contending, and removed his tents far off: 
 Then, from the mountain hewing timber tall, 
 Began to build a vessel of huge bulk ; 
 Measured by cubit, length, and breadth, and highth ; 
 Smeared round with pitch ; and in the side a door 
 Contrived ; and of provisions lail in large. 
 For man and beast: when lo, a wonder strange! 
 Of every beast, and bird, and insect small, 
 Came sevens and pairs ; and entered in as taught 
 Their order : last the sire and his three sons. 
 With their four wives; and God made fast the door. 
 Meanwhile the south-wind rose, and, with black wings 
 Wide-hovering, all the clouds together drove 
 From under heaven ; the hills to their supply 
 Vapour, and exhalation dusk and moist, 
 Sent up amain. And now the thickened sky 
 Like a dark ceiling stood ; down rushed the rain 
 Impetuous; and continued, till the earth 
 No more was seen : the floating vessel swum 
 Uplifted, and secure with beaked prow 
 Rode tilting o'er the waves; all dwellings else 
 Flood overwhelmed, and them with all their pomp 
 Deep under water rolled ; sea covered sea. 
 Sea without shore ; and in their palaces. 
 Where luxury late reigned, sea-monsters whelped 
 And stabled ; of mankind, so numerous late, 
 All left, in one small bottom swum imbarked. 
 How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold 
 The end of all thy offspring, end so sad, 
 Depopulation ! Thee another flood. 
 Of tears and sorrow a flood, thee also drowned. 
 And sunk thee as thy sons; till, gently reared 
 By the angel, on thy feet thou stoodest at last. 
 Though comfortless; as when a father mourns 
 His children, all in view destroyed at once; 
 And scarce to the angel utteredest thus thy plaint : 
 
 ' O visions ill foreseen ! better had I 
 Lived ignorant of future ! so had borne 
 My part of evil only, each day's lot 
 Enough to bear ; those now, that were dispensed 
 The burden of many ages, on me light 
 At once, by my foreknowledge gaining birth 
 Abortive, to torment me ere their being, 
 With thought that they must be. Let no man seek 
 Henceforth to be foretold, what shall befall 
 Him or his children ; evil he may be sure. 
 Which neither his foreknowing can prevent; 
 And he the future evil shall no less 
 In apprehension than in substance feel. 
 Grievous to bear: but that care now is past, 
 Man is not whom to warn : those few escaped 
 Famine and anguish will at last consume. 
 Wandering that watry desert : I had hope, 
 When violence was ceased, and war on earth, 
 All would have then gone well ; peace would have 
 
 crowned 
 With length of happy days the race of man; 
 But I was far deceived ; for now I see 
 Peace to corrupt no less than war to waste. 
 How comes it thus ? unfold, celestial guide. 
 And whether here the race of man will end.' 
 
 To whom thus Michael : ' Those, whom last thoa 
 sawest 
 In triumph and luxurious wealth, are they 
 Fii-st seen in acts of prowess eminent 
 And great exploits, but of true virtue void ; 
 Who, having spilt much blood and done much waste 
 Subduing nations, and achieved thereby 
 Fame in the world, high titles, and rich prey. 
 Shall change their course to pleasure, ease, and sloth, 
 Surfeit, and lust ; till wantonness and pride 
 Raise out of friendship hostile deeds in peace. 
 The conquered also, and enslaved by war. 
 Shall, with their freedom lost, all virtue lose 
 And fear of God ; from whom their piety feigned 
 In sharp contest of battle found no aid 
 Against invaders ; therefore, cooled in zeal, 
 Thenceforth shall practise how to live secure, 
 Worldly or dissolute, on what their lords 
 Shall leave them to enjoy ; for the earth shall bear 
 More than enough, that temperance may be tried : 
 So all shall tuni degenerate, all depraved ; 
 Justice and temperance, truth and faith, forg-ot; 
 One man except, the only son of light 
 In a dark age, against example good. 
 Against allurement, custom, and a world 
 Offended : fearless of reproach and scorn, 
 Or violence, he of their wicked wa^s 
 Shall them admonish ; and before them set 
 The paths of righteousness, how much more safe 
 And full of peace ; denouncing wrath to come 
 On their impenitence ; and shall return 
 Of them derided, but of God observed 
 The one just man alive; by his command 
 Shall build a wondrous ark, as thou beheldest, 
 To save himself, and household, from amidst 
 A world devote to universal wrack. 
 
90 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book XL 
 
 No sooner he, with them of man and heast 
 
 Select for life, shall in the ark be lodged, 
 
 And sheltered round ; but all the cataracts 
 
 Of heaven set open on the earth shall pour 
 
 Rain, day and ni<jht; all fountains of the deep, 
 
 Broke up, shall heave the ocean to usurp 
 
 Beyond all bounds; till inundation rise 
 
 Above the highest hills; then shall this mount 
 
 Of Paradise by might of waves be moved 
 
 Out of his place, pushed by the horned flood, 
 
 With all his verdure spoiled, and trees adrift, 
 
 Down the great river to the opening gulf. 
 
 And there take root an island salt and bare, 
 
 The haunt of seals, and ores, and sea-mews' clang; 
 
 To teach thee that God attributes to place 
 
 No sanctity, if none be thither brought 
 
 By men who there frequent, or therein dwell. 
 
 And now what further shall ensue, behold.' 
 
 He looked, and saw the ark hull on the flood, 
 Which now abated : for the clouds were fled. 
 Driven by a keen north-wind, that, blowing dry, 
 Wrinkled the face of deluge, as decayed ; 
 And the clear sun on his wide watery glass 
 Gazed hot, and of the fresh wave largely drew. 
 As after thirst ; which made their flowing shrink 
 From standing lake to tripping ebb, that stole 
 With soft foot towards the deep ; who now had stopt 
 His sluices, as the heaven his windows shut. 
 The ark no more now floats, but seems on ground, 
 Fast on the top of some high mountain fixed. 
 And now the tops of hills, as rocks, appear; 
 With clamour thence the rapid currents drive. 
 Towards the retreating sea, their furious tide. 
 Forthwith from out the ark a raven flies. 
 And after him, the surer messenger, 
 A dove sent forth once and again to spy 
 Green tree or ground, whereon his foot may light: 
 The second time returning, in his bill 
 An olive-leaf he brings, pacific sign : 
 Anon dry ground appears, and from bis ark 
 
 The ancient sire descends, with all his train : 
 Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout, 
 Grateful to Heaven, over his head beholds 
 A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow 
 Conspicuous with three listed colours gay. 
 Betokening peace from God, and covenant new. 
 Whereat the heart of Adam, erst so sad. 
 Greatly rejoiced ; and thus his joy broke forth : 
 
 O thou, who future things canst represent 
 As present, heavenly instructor! I revive 
 At this last sight ; assured that man shall live. 
 With all the creatures, and their seed preserve. 
 Far less I now lament for one whole world 
 Of wicked sons destroyed, than I rejoice 
 For one man found so perfect, and so just. 
 That God vouchsafes to raise another world 
 From him, and all his anger to forget. 
 But say, what mean those coloured streaks in heaven 
 Distended, as the brow of God appeased .'' 
 Or serve they, as a flowery verge, to bind 
 The fluid skirts of that same watry cloud. 
 Lest it again dissolve, and shower the earth .'" 
 
 To whom the archangel : ' Dextrously thou aimest; 
 So willingly doth God remit his ire. 
 Though late repenting him of man depraved ; 
 Grieved at his heart, when looking down he saw 
 The whole earth filled with violence, and all flesh 
 Corrupting each their way ; yet, those removed. 
 Such grace shall one just man find in his sight, 
 That he relents, not to blot out mankind; 
 And makes a covenant, never to destroy 
 The earth again by flood ; nor let the sea 
 Surpass his bounds; nor rain to drown the world, 
 With man therein or beast; but when he brings 
 Over the earth a cloud, will therein set 
 His triple-coloured bow, whereon to look, 
 And call to mind his covenant: day and night, 
 Seed-time and harvest, heat and hoary frost, 
 Shall hold their course; till fire purge all things new. 
 Both heaven and earth, wherein the just shall dwell. 
 
 BOOK XII. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The angel Michael continues, from the flood, to relate what shall succeed : then, in the mention of Abraham, comes by degrees to ex- 
 plain, who that seed of the woman shall be, which was promised Adam and Kve in the fall : his incarnation, death, resurrectioii, 
 and ascension; the state of the church till his second comins. Adam, preatlv satisfied and rcpomlorted by these relations and 
 promises, descends the hill with Michael ; wakens Eve. who all this while had slept, but with pcntle dreams composed to <iuif fness 
 of mind and submission. Michael in either hand leads them out of Paradise, the fiery sword waving behind tliem, and the cheru- 
 bim taking their stations to guard the place. 
 
 As one who in bis journey baits at noon, 
 Though bent on speed ; so here the archangel paused 
 Betwixt the world destroyed and world restored. 
 If Adam aught perhaps might interpose ; 
 
 Then, with transition sweet, new speech resumes : 
 Tiius thou ha.st seen one world begin and end ; 
 And man, as from a second stock, proceed. 
 Much thou hast yet to see ; but I perceive 
 
Book XII. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 01 
 
 Thy mortal sight to fail ; objects divine 
 Must needs impair and weary human sense : 
 Henceforth what is to come I will relate ; 
 Thou therefore give due audience, and attend : 
 
 'This second source of men, while yet but few, 
 And while the dread of judgment past remains 
 Fresh in their minds, fearing the Deity, 
 With some regard to what is just and right 
 Shall lead tlieir lives, and multiply apace ; 
 Labouring the soil, and reaping plenteous crop, 
 Corn, wine, and oil : and, from the herd or flock, 
 Oft sacrificing bullock, lamb, or kid. 
 With large wine-offerings poured, and sacred feast, 
 Shall spend their days in joy unblamed ; and dwell 
 Long time in peace, by families and tribes. 
 Under paternal rule : till one shall rise 
 Of proud ambitious heart ; who, not content 
 With fair equality, fraternal state, 
 W^ill arrogate dominion undeserved 
 Over his brethren, and quite dispossess 
 Concord and law of nature from the earth ; 
 Hunting (and men, not beasts, shall be his game) 
 With war, and hostile snare, such as refuse 
 Subjection to his empire tyrannous : 
 A mighty hunter thence he shall be styled 
 Before the Lord ; as in despite of heaven, 
 Or from heaven claiming second sovranty ; 
 And from rebellion shall derive liis name, 
 Though of rebellion others he accuse. 
 He with a crew, whom like ambition joins 
 With him or under him to tyrannize, 
 Marching from Eden towards the west, shall find 
 The plain, wherein a black bituminous gurge 
 Boils out from underground, the mouth of hell: 
 Of brick, and of that stuff, they cast to build 
 A city and tower, whose top may reach to heaven ; 
 And get themselves a name ; lest, far dispersed 
 In foreign lands, their memory be lost ; 
 Regardless whether good or evil fame. 
 But God, who oft descends to visit men 
 Unseen, and through their habitations walks 
 To mark their doings, them beholding soon, 
 Comes down to see their city, ere the tower 
 Obstruct heaven-towers ; and in derision sets 
 Upon their tongues a various spirit, to rase 
 Quite out their native language ; and, instead, 
 To sow a jangling noise of words unknown. 
 Forthwith a hideous gabble rises loud, 
 Among the builders ; each to other calls 
 Not understood ; till hoarse, and all in rage. 
 As mocked they storm : great laughter was in heaven. 
 And looking down, to see the hubbub strange, 
 And hear the din : thus was the building left 
 Ridiculous, and the work Confusion named.' 
 
 Whereto thus Adam, fatherly displeased : 
 ' O execrable son ! so to aspire 
 Above his brethren ; to himself assuming 
 Authority usurped, from God not given: 
 He gave us only over beast, fish, fowl. 
 Dominion absolute ; that right we hold 
 By bis donation ; but man over men 
 
 He made not lord ; such title to himself 
 Reserving, human left from human free. 
 But this usurper his encroachment proud 
 Stays not on man ; to God his tower intends 
 Siege and defiance ; wretched man ! what food 
 Will he convey up thither, to sustain 
 Himself and his rash army ; where thin air 
 Above the clouds will pine his entrails gross, 
 And famish him of breath, if not of bread ?' 
 
 To whom thus Michael : ' Justly thou abhorrest 
 That son, who on the quiet state of men 
 Such trouble brought', affecting to subdue 
 Rational liberty ; yet know withal, 
 Since thy original lapse, true liberty 
 Is lost, which always with right reason dwells 
 Twinned, and from her hath no dividual being : 
 Reason in man obscured, or not obeyed, 
 Immediately inordinate desires, 
 And upstart passions, catch the government 
 From reason ; and to servitude reduce 
 Man, till then free. Therefore, since he permits 
 Within himself unworthy powers to reign 
 Over free reason, God, in judgment just, 
 Subjects him from without to violent lords j 
 Who oft as undeservedly enthral 
 His outward freedom : tyranny must be; 
 Though to the tyrant thereby no excuse. 
 Yet sometimes nations will decline so low 
 From virtue, which is reason, that no wrong, 
 But justice, and some fatal curse annexed, 
 Deprives them of their outward liberty ; 
 Their inward lost : witness the irreverent son 
 Of him who built the ark ; who, for the shame 
 Done to his father, heard this heavy curse, 
 " Servant of servants," on his vicious race. 
 Thus will this latter, as the former world. 
 Still tend from bad to worse ; till God at last. 
 Wearied with their iniquities, withdraw 
 His presence from among them, and avert 
 His holy eyes ; resolving from thenceforth 
 To leave them to their own polluted ways; 
 And one peculiar nation to select 
 From all the rest, of whom to be invoked, 
 A nation from one faithful man to spring. 
 Him on this side Euphrates yet residing. 
 Bred up in idol-worship (0, that men — 
 Canst thou believe ? should be so stupid grown, — 
 While yet the patriarch lived who escaped the flood. 
 As to forske the living God, and fall 
 To worship their own work in wood and stone 
 For gods !) yet him God the Most High vouchsafes 
 To call by vision, from his father's house. 
 His kindred, and false gods, into a land 
 Which he will show him; and from him will raise 
 A mighty nation ; and upon him shower 
 His benediction so, that in his seed 
 All nations shall be blest : he straight obeys; 
 Not knowing to what land, yet firm believes. 
 I see him, but thou canst not, with what faith 
 He leaves his gods, his friends, and native soil, 
 Ur of Chaldcea, passing now the ford 
 
03 
 
 PARADISE I,OST. 
 
 Book XII. 
 
 To Haran ; after him a cumbrous train 
 
 Of herds and flocks, and numerous servitude; 
 
 Not wandering' poor, but trusting^ all his wealth 
 
 With God, who called him, in a land unknown. 
 
 Canaan he now attains; I see his tents 
 
 Pitched about Sechem, and the neighbouring plain 
 
 Of Moreh ; there by promise he receives 
 
 Gift to his progeny of all that land, 
 
 From Hamath northward to the desert south ; 
 
 (Things by their names I call, though yet unnamed ;) 
 
 From Hermon east to the great western sea ; 
 
 Mount Hermon, yonder sea; each place behold 
 
 In prospect, as I point them ; on the shore 
 
 Mount Carmel ; here, the double-founted stream, 
 
 Jordan, true limit eastward ; but his sons 
 
 Shall dwell to Senir, that long ridge of hills. 
 
 This ponder, that all nations of the earth 
 
 Shall in his seed be blessed : by that seed 
 
 Is meant thy great Deliverer, who shall bruise 
 
 The serpent's head ; whereof to thee anon 
 
 Plainlier shall be revealed. This patriarch blest, 
 
 Whom faithful Abraham due time shall call, 
 
 A son, and of his son a grand-child, leaves; 
 
 Like him in faith, and wisdom, and renown ; 
 
 The grand-child, with twelve sons increased, departs 
 
 From Canaan, to a land hereafter called 
 
 Egypt, divided by the river Nile ; 
 
 See where it flows, disgorging at seven mouths 
 
 Into the sea : to sojourn in that land 
 
 He comes, invited by a younger son 
 
 In time of dearth ; a son, whose worthy deeds 
 
 Raise him to be the second in that realm 
 
 Of Pharaoh : there he dies, and leaves his race 
 
 Growing into a nation ; and, now grown. 
 
 Suspected to a sequent king, who seeks 
 
 To stop their over-growth, as inmate guests 
 
 Too numerous; whence of guests he makes them 
 
 slaves 
 Inhospitably, and kills their infant males : 
 Till by two brethren (these two brethren call 
 Mqses and Aaron) sent from God to claim 
 Ilis people from entbralment, they return 
 W^ith glory, and spoil, back to the promised land. 
 But first, the lawless tyrant, who denies 
 To know their God, or message to regard. 
 Must be compelled by signs and judgments dire ; 
 To blood unshed the rivers must be turned ; 
 Frogs, lice, and flies, must all his palace fill 
 With loathed intrusion, and fill all the land ; 
 His cattle must of rot and murren die; 
 Botches and blains must all his flesh emboss, 
 And all his people ; thunder mixed with hail. 
 Hail mixed with fire, must rend the Egyptian sky. 
 And wheel on the earth, devouring where it rolls ; 
 What it devours not, herb, or fruit, or grain, 
 A darksome cloud of locusts swarming down 
 Must eat, and on the ground leave nothing green ; 
 Darkness must overshadow all his bounds, 
 Palpable darkness, and blot out three days ; 
 Last, with one midnight-stroke, all the first-bom 
 Of Egypt must lie dead. Thus with ten wounds 
 
 The river-dragon tamed at length submits 
 
 To let his sojourners depart, and oft 
 
 Humbles his stubborn heart; but still, as ice 
 
 More hardened after thaw ; till in his rage 
 
 Pursuing whom he late dismissed, the sea 
 
 Swallows him with his host ; but them lets pass, 
 
 As on dry land, between two crystal walls; 
 
 Awed by the rod of Moses so to stand 
 
 Divided till his rescued gain their shore : 
 
 Such wondrous power God to his saint will lend, 
 
 Though present in his angel ; who shall go 
 
 Before them in a cloud, and pillar of fire ; 
 
 By day a cloud, by night a pillar of fire ; 
 
 To guide them in their journey, and remove 
 
 Behind them, while the obdurate king pursues. 
 
 All night he will pursue ; but his approach 
 
 Darkness defends between till morning watch ; 
 
 Then through the fiery pillar, and the cloud, 
 
 God looking forth will trouble all his host, 
 
 And craze their chariot-wheels : when by command 
 
 Moses once more his potent rod extends 
 
 Over the sea ; the sea his rod obeys ; 
 
 On their embattled ranks the waves return, 
 
 And overwhelm their war : the race elect 
 
 Safe towards Canaan from the shore advance 
 
 Through the wild desert, not the readiest way; 
 
 Lest, entering on the Canaanite alarmed, 
 
 War terrify them inexpert, and fear 
 
 Return them back to Egypt, choosing rather 
 
 Inglorious life with servitude; for life 
 
 To noble and ignoble is more sweet 
 
 Untrained in arms, where rashness leads not on. 
 
 This also shall they gain by their delay 
 
 In the wide wilderness ; there they shall found 
 
 Their government, and their great senate choose 
 
 Through the twelve tribes, to rule by laws ordained ; 
 
 God from the mount of Sinai, whose gray top 
 
 Shall tremble, he descending, will himself 
 
 In thunder, lightning, and loud trumpets' sound, 
 
 Ordain them laws ; part, such as appertain 
 
 To civil justice; part, religious rites 
 
 Of sacrifice ; informing them, by types 
 
 And shadows, of that destined Seed to bruise 
 
 The serpent, by what means he shall achieve 
 
 Mankind's deliverance. But the voice of God 
 
 To mortal ear is dreadful : they beseech 
 
 That Moses might report to them his will. 
 
 And terror cease ; he grants what they besought. 
 
 Instructed that to God is no access 
 
 Without mediator, whose high oflice now 
 
 Moses in figure bears ; to introduce 
 
 One greater, of whose day he shall foretel, 
 
 And all the prophets in their age the times 
 
 Of great Messiah shall sing. Thus, laws and rites 
 
 Established, such delight bath God in men 
 
 Obedient to his will, that he vouchsafes 
 
 Among them to set up his tabernacle ; 
 
 The Holy One with mortal men to dwell : 
 
 By his prescript a sanctuary is framed 
 
 Of cedar, overlaid with gold ; therein 
 
 An ark, and in the ark his testimony, 
 
Book XII. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 93 
 
 The records of bis covenant; over these 
 A mercj-seat of ffold, between the wings 
 Of two bright cherubim : before him bum 
 Seven lamps as in a zodiac representing 
 The heavenly fires ; over the tent a cloud 
 Shall rest by day, a fiery gleam by night; 
 Save when they journey, and at length they come, 
 Conducted by his angel, to the land 
 Promised to Abraham and his seed. The rest 
 Were long to tell ; how many battles fought ; 
 How many kings destroyed ; and kingdoms won ; 
 Or how the sun shall in mid heaven stand still 
 A day entire, and night's due course adjourn, 
 Man's voice commanding, " Sun, in Gibeon stand, 
 And thou, moon, in the vale of Aialon, 
 Till Israel overcome!" so call the third 
 From Abraham, son of Isaac ; and from him 
 His whole descent, who thus shall Canaan win." 
 
 Here Adam interposed : ' O sent from Heaven, 
 Enlightener of my darkness, gracious things 
 Thou hast revealed ; those chiefly, which concern 
 Just Abraham and his seed : now first I find 
 Mine eyes true-opening, and my heart much eased ; 
 Erewhile perplexed with thoughts, what would be- 
 come 
 Of me and all mankind : but now I see 
 His day in whom all nations shall be blest ; 
 Favour unmerited by me, who sought 
 Forbidden knowledge by forbidden means. 
 This yet I apprehend not, why to those 
 Among whom God will deign to dwell on earth 
 So many and so various laws are given ; 
 So many laws argue so many sins 
 Among them ; how can God with such reside ? ' 
 
 To whom thus Michael : ' Doubt not but that sin 
 Will reign among them, as of thee begot ; 
 And therefore was law given them, to evince 
 Their natural pravity, by stirring np 
 Sin against law to fight : that when they see 
 Law can discover sin, but not remove. 
 Save by those shadowy expiations weak. 
 The blood of bulls and goats, they may conclude 
 Some blood more precious must be paid for man ; 
 Just for unjust; that in such righteousness 
 To them by faith imputed, they may find 
 Justification towards God, and peace 
 Of conscience ; which the law by ceremonies 
 Cannot appease : nor man the moral part 
 Perform ; and not performing, cannot live. 
 So law appears imperfect ; and but given 
 With purpose to resign them, in full time. 
 Up to a better covenant ; disciplined 
 From shadowy types to truth ; from flesh to spirit; 
 From imposition of strict laws, to free 
 Acceptance of large grace ; from servile fear 
 To filial ; works of law to works of faith. 
 And therefore shall not Moses, though of God 
 Highly beloved, being but the minister 
 Of law, his people into Canaan lead ; 
 But Joshua, whom the Gentiles Jesus call. 
 His name and oflice bearing, who shall quell 
 
 The adversary-serpent, and bring back 
 Through the world's wilderness long-wandered man 
 Safe to eternal Paradise of rest. 
 Meanwhile they, in their earthly Canaan placed. 
 Long time shall dwell and prosper, but when sins 
 National interrupt their public peace, 
 Provoking God to raise them enemies ; 
 From whom as oft he saves them penitent 
 By judges first, then under kings; of whom 
 The second, both for piety renowned 
 And puissant deeds, a promise shall receive 
 Irrevocable, that his regal throne 
 For ever shall endure ; the like shall sing 
 All prophecy, that of the royal stock 
 Of David (so I name this king) shall rise 
 A son, the woman's seed to thee foretold. 
 Foretold to Abraham, as in whom shall trust 
 All nations ; and to kings foretold, of kings 
 The last ; for of his reign shall be no end. 
 But first, a long succession must ensue; 
 And his next son, for wealth and wisdom famed, 
 The clouded ark of God, till then in tents 
 Wandering, shall in a glorious temple enshrine. 
 Such follow him as shall be registered. 
 Part good, part bad ; of bad the longer scroll : 
 Whose foul idolatries, and other faults 
 Heaped to the popular sum, will so incense 
 God, as to leave them, and expose their land. 
 Their city, his temple, and his holy ark. 
 With all his sacred things, a scorn and prey 
 To that proud city, whose high walls thou sawest 
 Left in confusion ; Babylon thence called. 
 There in captivity he lets them dwell 
 The space of seventy years ; then brings them back, 
 Remembering mercy, and his covenant sworn 
 To David, stablished as the days of heaven. 
 Returned from Babylon by leave of kings 
 Their lords, whom God disposed, the house of God 
 They first re-edify : and for a while 
 In mean estate live moderate ; till grown 
 In wealth and multitude, factious they grovr : 
 But first among the priests dissension springs. 1% 
 Men who attend the altar, and should most 
 Endeavour peace : their strife pollution briigs; 
 Upon the temple itself : at last they seize 
 The scepter, and regard not David's sons ; 
 Then lose it to a stranger, that the true 
 Anointed king Messiah might be born 
 Barred of his right ; yet at his birth a star. 
 Unseen before in heaven, proclaims him come 
 And guides the eastern sages, who inquire 
 His place, to offer incense, myrrh, and gold : 
 His place of birth a solemn angel tells 
 To simple shepherds, keeping watch by night ; 
 They gladly thither haste, and by a quire 
 Of squadroned angels hear his carol sung. 
 A virgin is his mother, but his sire 
 The power of the Most High : he shall ascend 
 The throne hereditary, and bound his reign 
 With earth's wide bounds, his glory with the hea- 
 vens.' 
 
M 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 Book XII. 
 
 He ceased, discerning' Adam with such joy 
 Surcharged, as had like grief been dewed in tears, 
 Without the vent of words ; which these he breathed : 
 
 ' O prophet of glad tidings, finisher 
 Of utmost hope! now clear I understand 
 What oft my steadiest thoughts have searched in vain ; 
 Why our great Expectation should be called 
 The seed of woman; virgin mother, hail, 
 High in the love of heaven; yet from my loins 
 Thou shalt proceed, and from thy womb the Son 
 Of God Most High ; so God with man unites. 
 Needs must the serpent now his capital bruise 
 Expect with mortal pain : say where and when 
 Their fight, what stroke shall bruise the victor's heel .'" 
 
 To whom thus Michael : ' Dream not of their fight, 
 As of a duel, or the local wounds 
 Of head or heel : not therefore joins the Son 
 Manhood to godhead, with more strength to foil 
 Thy enemy ; nor so is overcome 
 Satan, whose fall from heaven, a deadlier bruise, 
 Disabled not to give thee thy death's wound : 
 Which he, who comes thy Saviour, shall recure 
 Not by destroying Satan, but his works 
 In thee, and in thy seed : nor can this be 
 But by fulfilling that which thou didst want, 
 Obedience to the law of God. imposed 
 On penalty of death, and suffering death ; 
 The penalty to thy transgression due, 
 And due to theirs which out of thine will grow: 
 So only can high justice rest appaid. 
 The law of God exact he shall fulfil 
 Both by obedience and by love, though love 
 Alone fulfil the law ; thy punishment 
 He shall endure, by coming in the flesh 
 To a reproachful life, and cursed death ; 
 Proclaiming life to all who shall believe 
 In his redemption ; and that his obedience, 
 Imputed, becomes theirs by faith ; his merits 
 To save them, not their own, though legal, works. 
 For this he shall live hated, be blasphemed. 
 Seized on by force, judged, and to death condemned 
 A shameful and accursed, nailed to the cross 
 By his own nation ; slain for bringing life : 
 But to the cross he nails thy enemies, 
 The law that is against thee, and the sins 
 Of all mankind with him there crucified. 
 Never to hurt them more who rightly trust 
 In this his satisfaction ; so he dies, 
 But soon revives ; death over him no power 
 Shall long usurp ; ere the third dawning light 
 Return, the stars of morn shall see him rise 
 Out of his grave, fresh as the dawning light. 
 Thy ransom paid, which man from death redeems, 
 His death for man, as many as offered life 
 Neglect not, and the benefit embrace 
 By faith not void of works: this god-like act 
 Annuls thy doom, the death thou shouldst have died, 
 In sin for ever lost from life ; this act 
 Shall bruise the head of Satan, crush his strength, 
 Defeating sin and death, his two main arms ; 
 And fix far deeper in his head their stings 
 
 Than temporal death shall bruise the victor's heel. 
 
 Or theirs whom he redeems; a death like sleep, 
 
 A gentle wafting to immortal lift 
 
 Nor after resurrection shall he stay 
 
 Longer on earth, than certain times to appear 
 
 To his disciples, men who in his life 
 
 Still followed him ; to them shall leave in charge 
 
 To teach all nations what of him they learned^ 
 
 And his salvation ; them who shall believe 
 
 Baptizing in the profluent stream, the sign 
 
 Of washing them from guilt of sin to life 
 
 Pure, and in mind prepared, if so befall, 
 
 For death, like that which the Redeemer died. 
 
 All nations they shall teach ; for, from that day. 
 
 Not only to the sons of Abraham's loins 
 
 Salvation shall be preached, but to the sons 
 
 Of Abraham's faith wherever through the world; 
 
 So in his seed all nations shall be blest. 
 
 Then to the heaven of heavens he shall ascend 
 
 With victory triumphing through the air 
 
 Over his foes and thine ; there shall surprise 
 
 The serpent, prince of air, and drag in chains 
 
 Through all his realm, and there confounded leave; 
 
 Then enter into glory, and resume 
 
 His seat at God's right hand, exalted high 
 
 Above all names in heaven ; and thence shall come. 
 
 When this world's dissolution shall be ripe. 
 
 With glory and power to judge both quick and dead ; 
 
 To judge the unfaithful dead, but to reward 
 
 His faithful, and receive them into bliss, 
 
 Whether in heaven or earth ; for then the earth 
 
 Shall all be Paradise, far happier place 
 
 Than this of Eden, and far happier days.' 
 
 So spake the archangel Michael ; then paused. 
 As at the world's great period ; and our sire, 
 Replete with joy and wonder, thus replied : 
 
 ' O Goodness infinite. Goodness immense ! 
 That all this good of evil shall produce, 
 And evil turn to good ; more wonderful 
 Than that which by creation first brought forth 
 Light out of darkness! Full of doubt I stand. 
 Whether I should repent me now of sin 
 By me done, and occasioned ; or rejoice 
 Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring ; 
 To God more glory, more good-will to men 
 From God, and over wrath grace shall abound. 
 But say, if our Deliverer up to heaven 
 Must reascend, what will betide the few 
 His faithful, left among the unfaithful herd. 
 The enemies of truth ? Who then shall guide 
 His people, who defend ? Will they not deal 
 Worse with his followers than with him they dealt?' 
 
 ' Be sure they will,' said the angel ; ' but from 
 heaven 
 He to his own a Comforter will send, 
 The promise of the Father, who shall dwell 
 His Spirit within them; and the law of faith, 
 Working through love, upon their hearts shall write, 
 To guide them in all truth ; and also arm 
 With spiritual armour, able to resist 
 Satan's assaults, and quench his fiery darts; 
 
Book XII. 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 95 
 
 What man can do agfainst them, not afraid, 
 
 Though to the death ; ag-ainst such cruelties 
 
 With inward consolations recompensed, 
 
 And oft supported so as shall amaze 
 
 Their proudest persecutors ; for the Spirit, 
 
 Poured first on his apostles, whom he sends 
 
 To evanji-elize the nations, then on all 
 
 Baptized, shall them with wondrcus gifts endue 
 
 To speak all tongues, and do all miracles, 
 
 As did their Lord hefore them. Thus they win 
 
 Great nunihers of each nation to receive 
 
 With joy the tidings brought from heaven : at length 
 
 Their ministry performed, and race well run, 
 
 Their doctrine and tlieir story written left. 
 
 They die ; but in their room, as they forewarn, 
 
 Wolves shall succeed for teachers, grievous wolves, 
 
 Who all the sacred mysteries of heaven 
 
 To their own vile advantages shall turn 
 
 Of lucre and ambition ; and the truth 
 
 With superstitions and traditions taint, 
 
 Left only in those written records pure. 
 
 Though not but by the Spirit understood. 
 
 Then shall they seek to avail themselves of names, 
 
 Places, and titles, and with these to join 
 
 Secular power ; though feigning still to act 
 
 By spiritual, to themselves appropriating 
 
 The Spirit of God, promised alike, and given 
 
 To all believei"s ; and, from that pretence, 
 
 Spiritual laws by carnal power sh<ill force 
 
 On every conscience; laws which none shall find 
 
 Left them inrolled, or what the Spirit within 
 
 Shall on the heart engrave. What will they then 
 
 But force the Spirit of grace itself, and bind 
 
 His consort liberty ? what, but unbuild 
 
 His living temples, built by faith to stand, 
 
 Their own faith, not another's .'* for, on earth. 
 
 Who against faith and conscience can be heard 
 
 Infallible ? yet many will presume : 
 
 Whence beavy persecution shall arise 
 
 On all, who in the worship persevere 
 
 Of spirit and truth ; the rest, far greater part. 
 
 Will deem in outward rites and specious forms 
 
 Religion satisfied ; truth shall retire 
 
 Bestruck with slanderous darts, and works of faith 
 
 Rarely be found : so shall the world go on, 
 
 To good malignant, to bad men benign ; 
 
 Under her own weight groaning; till the day 
 
 Appear of respiration to the just. 
 
 And vengeance to the wicked, at return 
 
 Of him so lately promised to thy aid, 
 
 The woman's Seed; obscurely then foretold. 
 
 Now amplier known thy Saviour and thy Lord ; 
 
 Last, in the clouds, from heaven to be revealed 
 
 In glory of the Father, to dissolve 
 
 Satan with his perverted world ; then raise 
 
 From the conflagrant mass, purged and refined, 
 
 New heavens, new earth, ages of endless date. 
 
 Founded in righteousness, and peace, and love ; 
 
 To bring forth fruits, joy and eternal bliss." 
 
 He ended ; and thus Adam last replied : 
 ' How soon hath thy prediction, seer blest, 
 
 Measured this transient world, the race of time, 
 
 Till time stand fixed ! Beyond is all abyss. 
 
 Eternity, whose end no eye can reach. 
 
 Greatly instructed I shall hence depart; 
 
 Greatly in peace of thought ; and have my fill 
 
 Of knowledge what this vessel can contain ; 
 
 Beyond which, was my folly to aspire. 
 
 Henceforth I learn, that to obey is best. 
 
 And love with fear the only God ; to walk 
 
 As in his presence ; ever to observe 
 
 His providence ; and on him sole depend, 
 
 Merciful over all his works, with good 
 
 Still overcoming evil, and by small 
 
 Accomplishing great things, by things deemed weak 
 
 Subverting worldly strong, and worldly wise 
 
 By simply meek ; that suffering for truth's sake 
 
 Is fortitude to highest victory. 
 
 And, to the faithful, death the gate of life ; 
 
 Taught this by his example, whom I now 
 
 Acknowledge my Redeemer ever blest.' 
 
 To whom thus also the angel last replied : 
 ' This having learned, thou hast attained the sum 
 Of wisdom ; hope no higher, though all the stars 
 Thou knewest by name, and all the ethereal Powers, 
 All secrets of the deep, all Nature's works. 
 Or works of God in heaven, air, earth, or sea, 
 And all the riches of this world cnjoyedst, 
 And all the rule, one empire ; only add 
 Deeds to thy knowledge answerable ; add faith. 
 Add virtue, patience, temperance ; add love. 
 By name to come called charity, the soul 
 Of all the rest : then wilt thou not be loth 
 To leave this Paradise, but shalt possess 
 A paradise within thee, happier far. 
 Let us descend now therefore from this top 
 Of speculation ; for the hour precise 
 Exacts our parting hence ; and see ! the guards, 
 By me encamped on yonder hill, expect 
 Their motion ; at whose front a flaming sword, 
 In signal of remove, waves fiercely round. 
 We may no longer stay : go, waken Eve ; 
 Her also I with gentle dreams have calmed 
 Portending good, and all her spirits composed 
 To meek submission : thou, at season fit. 
 Let her with thee partake what thou hast heard ; 
 Chiefly, what may concern her faith to know, 
 The great deliverance by her seed to come 
 (For by the woman's seed) on all mankind ; 
 That ye may live, which will be many days, 
 Both in one faith unanimous, though sad 
 With cause for evils past ; yet much more cheered 
 With meditation on the happy end.' 
 !He ended, and they both descend the hill; 
 Descended, Adam to the bower, where Eve 
 Lay sleeping, ran before : but found her waked ; 
 And thus with words not sad she him received : 
 
 ' Whence thou returnest, and whither wentest, I 
 know ; 
 For God is also in sleep ; and dreams advise, 
 Which he hath sent propitious, some great good 
 Presaging, since with sorrow and heart's distress 
 
90 
 
 PARADISE LOST. 
 
 BouK XII. 
 
 Weaned I fell asleep : but now lead on ; 
 
 In me is no delay ; with thee to go, 
 
 Is to stay here ; without thee here to stay, 
 
 Is to go hence unwilling; thou to me 
 
 Art all things under heaven, all places thou, 
 
 Who for my wilful crime art banished hence. 
 
 This further consolation yet secure 
 
 I carry hence ; though all by me is lost, 
 
 Such favour I unworthy am vouchsafed. 
 
 By me the promised Seed shall all restore.' 
 
 So spake our mother Eve ; and Adam heard 
 Well pleased, but answered not; for now, too nigh 
 The archangel stood ; and from the other hill 
 To their fixed station, all in bright array. 
 The cherubim descended ; on the ground 
 Gliding meteorous, as evening mist 
 Risen from a river o'er the marish glides. 
 And gathers ground fast at thp labourer's heel 
 
 Homeward returning. High in front advanced, 
 
 The brandished sword of God before them blazed. 
 
 Fierce as a comet ; which with torrid heat, 
 
 And vapour as the Libyan air adust. 
 
 Began to parch that temperate clime ; whereat 
 
 In either hand the hastening angel caught 
 
 Our lingering parents, and to the eastern gate 
 
 Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast 
 
 To the subjected plain ; then disappeared. 
 
 They, looking back, all the eastern side beheld 
 
 Of Paradise, so late their happy seat. 
 
 Waved over by that flaming brand ; the gate 
 
 With dreadful faces thronged, and fiery arms. 
 
 Some natural tears they dropt, but wiped them soon ; 
 
 The world was all before them, where to choose 
 
 Their place of rest, and Providence their guide : 
 
 They, hand in hand, with wandering steps and slow, 
 
 Through Eden took their solitary way. 
 
PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The subiect proposed. Invocation of the Holy Spirit. The poe m op ens with John baptizing at the river JoriJ 
 there is ba ptize fl ; jind is attested by the descent of the tlply uhogy an dJiv a voice trom lieaven. to be the Son of T 
 ^S present, upon this irrimediately flies up into the refrlons of the air: where, suiuuionini: lii^ inri-rnal council, he acquaint, 
 
 jyith his apprilitnsidustliat Jesus is that seedof the woipa n destined todi stroy al! i Mt to tlicni the ihlmfidiaig_^ 
 
 necessity ol Iriiminu' the matt er to DrppOfig ~6r g>ttenTiptin'.r.l)v .snarci and I'lu I : th.- jn i>..ii from whom 
 
 'P ^ev lia ,ve tio much to dread: .I'his office he ofTers himself to' undertike ; and,!; , ~. t-ct.ut oti liis enterprise. ' 
 
 In the rneati timtJlijMi, in the assembly of holy angels.jleclares that he has yiveii up hii -iuii-Lu UcUiiiupUd by iialaB ; but foretells 
 
 that the tempter shall be comt)letely defeated by himT upon which the anu'els sinp a hymn of triumph. Jesya_isjed up b y tl^e, _ 
 Spirit i nto tlie w ilderness, while he is meditating on the commencement of his prreat office of Saviour of manKimr. Flirsuihs bis 
 fiiVmikllous lie iiarmi^ii, Tn a solil " " 
 
 loquy, what divine and philanthropic impulses he had felt from his early youth, and how his 
 mother Mary, on perceivinar these dispositions in him, had acquainted him with the circumstances of his birth, and informed him that 
 he was no less a person than the Son of God ; to which he adds what his own inquiries and reflections had supplied in confirma- 
 tion of this great truth, and particularly dwells on the recent attestation of it at the river Jordan. Our Lor d paMes fort y days, fait. . 
 ,i ng. in the wildenij ;^ : where the wihfbeasts l)ecome mild and harmless in his presence. Sata n now '^|''|'p'<ra UlUif **''' form of ao— 
 - O J y pea san t ; and enters into discourse with our Lord, wonderiner what could have brougTit tiTm alone into so dangerous a place, 
 nnfl'flt ine same time professing to recognise him for the person lately acknowledeed by John, at the river Jordan, to be the J>on of 
 God. Jesus briefly replies. Satan rejoins with a description of thedifficulty of supporting life in the wilderness; and _entreat3 
 jpiMia if ^p 'Te '^ully thftS^n nf find, tn mnjiifflt his divine jtower W <^h''"ir"g «"""' "f tt"* «t"np a into breatL Jesus reproves him, 
 and at the same time tells him that he knows whone IS. SUUUl' rnstantly avows himself and oflers an artful apologv for himself 
 and his conduct, ^yr blessed Lord severely reprima nds hiTD. and refutes eveyy: part of his .iuatiflcatia^ Satan, with much sem- 
 blance of humility, stitTeirdtavours to justify himseTT; and, proiessin^ his admiration of Jesiis and his regard for virtue, requests 
 to l>e permitted at "a future time to hear moreof his conversation ; but is answered, that this must be as he shall find permission from 
 above, jiaiaja-theiixiisap po a ra t md the book closes with a short descrij^^tioiLof "'gh* r'nming nn^jnjtiP desert. 
 
 I, WHO erewbile the happy garden sung 
 By one man's disobedience lost, now sing 
 Recovered Paradise to all mankind, 
 By one man's firm obedience fully tried 
 Through all temptation, and the tempter foiled 
 In all his wiles, defeated and repulsed, 
 And Eden raised in the waste wilderness. 
 
 Thou Spirit, who leddest this glorious Eremite 
 Into the desert, his victorious field, 
 .\gainst the spiritual foe, and broughtest him thence 
 By proof the undoubted Son of God, inspire, 
 As thou art wont, my prompted song, else mute. 
 And bear through highth or depth of nature's bounds, 
 With prosperous wing full summed, to tell of deeds 
 Above heroic, though in secret done. 
 And unrecorded left through many an age ; 
 Worthy to have not remained so long unsung. 
 
 Now had the great Proclaimer, with a voice 
 More awful than the sound of trumpet, cried 
 Repentance, and heaven's kingdom nigh at hand 
 To all baptized : to his great baptism flocked 
 With awe the regions round, and with them came 
 From Nazareth the son of Joseph deemed 
 To the flood, Jordan ; came as then obscure, 
 
 *H 
 
 Unmarked, unknown ; but him the Baptist soon 
 Descried, divinely warned, and witness bore 
 As to his worthier, and would have resij^ned 
 To him his heavenly office; nor was long 
 His witness unconfirmed : on him baptized 
 Heaven opened, and in likeness of a dove 
 The Spirit descended, while the Father's voice 
 From heaven pronounced him his beloved Son. 
 That heard the adversary, who, roving still 
 About the world, at that assembly famed 
 Would not be last, and, with the voice divine 
 Nigh thunder-struck, the exalted man, to whom 
 Such high attest was given, a while surveyed 
 With wonder ; then, with envy fraught and rage, 
 Flies to his place, nor rests, but in mid air 
 To council summons all his mighty peers, 
 Within thick clouds, and dark, tenfold involved, 
 A gloomy consistory ; and them amidst. 
 With looks aghast and sad, he thus bespake : 
 
 ' O ancient powers of air, and this wide world, 
 (For much more willingly I mention air. 
 This our old conquest, than remember hell. 
 Our hated habitation,) well ye know 
 How many ages, as the years of men, 
 
98 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 This universe we have possessed, and ruled, 
 
 In manner at our will, the affairs of earth, 
 
 Since Adam and his facile consort Eve 
 
 Lost Paradise, deceived by nie ; though since 
 
 With dread attcnding^ when that fatal wound 
 
 Shall be inflicted by the seed of Eve 
 
 Upon my head. Long the decrees of Heaven 
 
 Delay, for longest time to him is short; 
 
 And now, too soon for us, the circling hours 
 
 This dreaded time have compassed, wherein we 
 
 Must bide the stroke of that long-threatened wound 
 
 (At least if so we can, and by the head 
 
 Broken be not intended all our power 
 
 To be infringed, our freedom and our being, 
 
 In this fair empire won of earth and air) : 
 
 For this ill news I bring, the woman's seed 
 
 Destined to this, is late of woman bom. 
 
 His birth to our just fear gave no small cause : 
 
 But his growth now to youth's full flower, displaying 
 
 All virtue, grace, and wisdom to achieve 
 
 Things highest, greatest, multiplies my fear. 
 
 Before him a great prophet, to proclaim 
 
 His coming, is sent harbinger, who all 
 
 Invites, and in the consecrated stream 
 
 Pretends to wash off" sin, and fit them, so 
 
 Purified, to receive him pure, or rather 
 
 To do him honour as their King : all come, 
 
 And he himself among them was baptized ; 
 
 Not thence to be more pure, but to receive 
 
 The testimony of Heaven, that who he is 
 
 Thenceforth the nations may not doubt. I saw 
 
 The prophet do him reverence ; on him, rising 
 
 Out of the water, heaven above the clouds 
 
 Unfold her crystal doors ; thence on his head 
 
 A perfect dove descend, (whate'er it meant,) 
 
 And out of heaven the sovran voice I heard, 
 
 " This is my Son beloved, in him am pleased." 
 
 His mother then is mortal, but his Sire 
 
 He who obtains the monarchy of heaven : 
 
 And what will he not do to advance his Son ? 
 
 His first-begot, we know, and sore have felt, 
 
 When his fierce thunder drove us to the deep: 
 
 Who this is wc must learn, for man he seems 
 
 In all his lineaments, though in his face 
 
 The glimpses of his Father's glory shine. 
 
 Ye see our danger on the utmost edge 
 
 Of hazard, which admits no long debate, 
 
 But must with something sudden be opposed, 
 
 (Not force, but well-couched fraud, well-woven snares,) 
 
 Ere in the head of nations he appear. 
 
 Their king, their leader, and supreme on earth. 
 
 I, when no other durst, sole undertook 
 
 The dismal expedition to find out 
 
 And ruin Adam ; and the exploit performed 
 
 Successfully : a calmer voyage now 
 
 Will waft me ; and the way, found prosperous once, 
 
 Induces best to hope of like success.' 
 
 He ended, and his words impression left 
 Of much amazement to the infernal crew 
 Distracted, and surprised with deep dismay 
 At these sad tidings ; but no time was then 
 
 For long indulgence to their fears or grief: 
 Unanimous they all commit the care 
 And management of this main enterprise 
 To him, their great dictator, whose attempt 
 At first against mankind so well had thrived 
 In Adam's overthrow, and led their march 
 From hell's deep-vaulted den to dwell in light, 
 Regents, and potentates, and kings, yea gods, 
 Of many a pleasant realm and province wide. 
 So to the coast of Jordan he directs 
 His easy steps, girded with snaky wiles, 
 Where he might likeliest find this new-declared, 
 This man of men, attested Son of God, 
 Temptation and all guile on him to try ; 
 So to subvert whom he suspected raised 
 To end his reign on earth, so long enjoyed : 
 But, contrary, unweeting he fulfilled 
 The purposed counsel, pre-ordained and fixed. 
 Of the Most High ; who, in full frequence bright 
 Of angels, thus to Gabriel smiling spake : 
 
 * Gabriel, this day by proof thou shalt behold, 
 Thou and all angels conversant on earth 
 With man or men's aflTairs, how I begin 
 To verify that solemn message, late 
 On which I sent thee to the virgin pure 
 In Galilee, that she should bear a son 
 Great in renown, and called the Son of God ; 
 Then toldest her, doubting how these things could be 
 To her a virgin, that on her should come 
 The Holy Ghost, and the power of the Highest 
 O'ershadow her. This man, born and now up-grown, 
 To show him worthy of his birth divine 
 And high prediction, henceforth I expose 
 To Satan ; let him tempt, and now assay 
 His utmost subtlety, because he boasts 
 And vaunts of his great cunning to the throng 
 Of his apostasy ; he might have learnt 
 Less overweening, since he failed in Job, 
 Whose constant perseverance overcame 
 Whate'er his cruel malice could invent. 
 He now shall know I can produce a man, 
 Of female seed, far abler to resist 
 All his solicitations, and at length. 
 All his vast force, and drive him back to hell ; 
 Winning, by conquest, what the first man lost. 
 By fallacy surprised. But first I mean 
 To exercise him in the wilderness; 
 There he shall first lay down the rudiments 
 Of his great warfare, ere I send him forth 
 To conquer sin and death, the two grand foes. 
 By humiliation and strong sufferance : 
 His weakness shall o'ercome Satanic strength. 
 And all the world, and mass of sinful flesh ; 
 That all the angels and ethereal powers. 
 They now, and men hereafter, may discern. 
 From what consummate virtue I have chose 
 This perfect man, by merit called my Son, 
 To earn salvation for the sons of men.' 
 
 So spake the Eternal Father, and all heaven 
 Admiring stood a space, then into hymns 
 Burst forth, and in celestial measures moved, 
 
Book I. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 99 
 
 Circling' the throne and singing, while the hand 
 Sung with the voice, and this the argument : 
 ' Victory and triumph to the Son of God, 
 Now entering his great duel, not of arms, 
 But to vanquish by wisdom hellish wiles! 
 The Father knows the Son ; therefore secure 
 Ventures his filial virtue, though untried. 
 Against whate'er may tempt, whate'er seduce, 
 Allure, or terrify, or undermine. 
 Be frustrate, all ye stratagems of hell, 
 And, devilish machinations, come to nought!' 
 
 So they in heaven their odes and vigils tuned : 
 Meanwhile the Son of God, who yet some days 
 Lodged in Bethabara, where John baptized, 
 Musing, and much revolving in his breast, 
 How best the mighty work he might begin 
 Of Saviour to mankind, and which way first 
 Publish his arod-like office now mature. 
 One day forth walked alone, the Spirit leading* 
 And his deep thoughts, the better to converse 
 With solitude, till, far from track of men. 
 Thought following thought, and step by step led on, 
 He entered now the bordering desert wild, 
 And, with dark shades and rocks environed round, 
 His holy meditations thus pursued : 
 
 * O, what a multitude of thoughts at once 
 Awakened in me swarm, while I consider 
 What from within I feel myself, and here 
 What from without comes often to my ears, 
 111 sorting with my present state compared ! 
 When I was yet a child, no childish play 
 To me was pleasing ; all my mind was set 
 Serious to learn and know, and thence to do 
 What might be public good ; myself I thought 
 Born to that end, bom to promote all truth, 
 All righteous things : therefore, above my years, 
 The law of God I read, and found it sweet, 
 Made it my whole delight, and in it grew 
 To such perfection, that, ere yet my age 
 Had measured twice six years, at our great feast 
 I went into the temple, there to hear 
 The teachers of our law, and to propose 
 What might improve my knowledge or their own ; 
 And was admired by all : yet this not all 
 To which my spirit aspired ; victorious deeds 
 Flamed in my heart, heroic acts ; one while 
 To rescue Israel from the Roman yoke ; 
 Then to subdue and quell, o'er all the earth. 
 Brute violence and proud tyrannic power, 
 Till truth were freed, and equity restored : 
 Yet held it more humane, more heavenly, first 
 By willing words to conquer willing hearts, 
 And make persuasion do the work of fear ; 
 At least to try, and teach the erring soul, 
 Not wilfully misdoing, but unaware 
 Misled ; the stubborn only to subdue. 
 These growing thoughts my mother soon perceiving, 
 By words at times cast forth, inly rejoiced. 
 And said to me apart, " High are thy thoughts, 
 O son, but nourish them, and let them soar 
 To what highth sacred virtue and true worth 
 ir 2 
 
 Can raise them, though above example high ; 
 
 By matchless deeds express thy matchless Sire, 
 
 For know, thou art no son of mortal man ; 
 
 Though men esteem thee low of parentage. 
 
 Thy father is the Eternal King who rules 
 
 All heaven and earth, angels and sons of men ; 
 
 A messenger from God foretold thy birth 
 
 Conceived in me a virgin ; he foretold 
 
 Thou shouldst be great, and sit on David's throne, 
 
 And of thy kingdom there should be no end. 
 
 At thy nativity, a glorious quire 
 
 Of angels, in the fields of Bethlehem, sung 
 
 To shepherds, watching at their folds by night. 
 
 And told them the Messiah now was born. 
 
 Where they might sec him ; and to thee they came. 
 
 Directed to the manger where thou layest, 
 
 For in the inn was left no better room : 
 
 A star, not seen before, in heaven appearing, 
 
 Guided the wise men thither from the East, 
 
 To honour thee with incense, myrrh, and gold ; 
 
 By whose bright course led on they found the place, 
 
 Affirming it thy star, new-graven in heaven. 
 
 By which they knew the King of Israel bom. 
 
 Just Simeon and prophetic Anna, warned 
 
 By vision, found thee in the temple, and spake. 
 
 Before the altar and the vested priest, 
 
 Like things of thee to all that present stood." 
 
 ' This having heard, straight I again revolved 
 The law and prophets, searching what was writ 
 Concerning the Messiah, to our scribes 
 Known partly, and soon found, of whom they spake 
 I am ; this chiefly, that my way must lie 
 Through many a hard assay, even to the death, 
 Ere I the promised kingdom can attain. 
 Or work redemption for mankind, whose sins 
 Full weight must be transferred upon my head. 
 Yet, neither thus disheartened, nor dismayed. 
 The time prefixed I waited ; when behold 
 The Baptist, (of whose birth I oft had heard. 
 Not knew by sight,) now come, who was to come 
 Before Messiah, and his way prepare ! 
 I, as all others, to his baptism came, 
 Which I believed was from above ; but he 
 Straight knew me, and with loudest voice proclaimed 
 Me him, (for it was shown him so from heaven,) 
 Me him, whose harbinger he was ; and first 
 Refused on me his baptism to confer. 
 As much his greater, and was hardly won : 
 But, as I rose out of the laving stream. 
 Heaven opened her eternal doors, from whence 
 The Spirit descended on me like a dove ; 
 And last, the sum of all, my Father's voice. 
 Audibly heard from heaven, pronounced me his, 
 Me his beloved Son, in whom alone 
 He was well pleased ; by which I knew the time 
 Now full, that T no more should live obscure, 
 But openly begin, as best becomes 
 The authority which I derived from heaven. 
 And now by some strong motion I am led 
 Into this wilderness, to what intent 
 I learn not yet ; perhaps I need not know> 
 
100 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book I. 
 
 For what concerns my knowledge God reveals.* 
 
 So spake our Morning-star, then in his rise, 
 And, looking round, on every side beheld 
 A pathless desert, dusk with horrid shades; 
 The way he came not having marked, return 
 Was difficult, by human steps untrod ; 
 And he still on was led, but with such thoughts 
 Accompanied of things past and to come 
 Lodged in his breast, as well might recommend 
 Such solitude before choicest society. 
 Full forty days he passed, whether on hill 
 Sometimes, anon on shady vale, each night 
 Under the covert of some ancient oak. 
 Or cedar, to defend him from the dew. 
 Or harboured in one cave, is not revealed ; 
 Nor tasted human food, nor hunger felt 
 Till those days ended ; hungered then at last 
 Among wild beasts : they at his sight grew mild. 
 Nor sleeping him nor waking harmed ; his wa^ 
 The fiery serpent fled and noxious worm, 
 The lion and fierce tiger glared aloof. 
 But now an aged man in rural weeds, 
 Following, as seemed, the quest of some stray ewe. 
 Or withered sticks to gather, which might serve 
 Against a winter's day, when winds blow keen. 
 To warm him wet returned from field at eve, 
 He saw approach, who first with curious eye 
 Perused him, then with words thus uttered spake: 
 
 * Sir, what ill chance hath brought thee to this place, 
 So far from path or road of men, who pass 
 In troop or caravan .'' for single none 
 Durst ever, who returned, and dropt not here 
 His carcass, pined with hunger and with drought. 
 I ask the rather, and the more admire. 
 For that to me thou seemest the man, whom late 
 Our new baptizing prophet at the ford 
 Of Jordan honoured so, and called thee Son 
 Of God : I saw and heard, for we sometimes 
 Who dwell this wild, constrained by want, come forth 
 To town or village nigh, (nighest is far,) 
 Where aught we hear, and curious are to hear. 
 What happens new ; fame also finds us out.' 
 
 To whom the Son of God : ' Who brought me hither. 
 Will bring me hence ; no other guide I seek.' 
 
 ' By miracle he may,' replied the swain ; 
 ' What other way I see not; for we here 
 Live on tough roots and stubs, to thirst inured 
 More than the camel, and to drink go far. 
 Men to much misery and hardship bom : 
 But, if thou be the Son of God, command 
 That out of these hard stones be made thee bread. 
 So shalt thou save thyself, and us relieve 
 With food, whereof we wretched seldom taste.' 
 
 He ended, and the Son of God replied : 
 ' Thinkest thou such force in bread ? Is it not written, 
 (For I discern thee other than thou seemest,) 
 Man lives not by bread only, but each word 
 Proceeding from the mouth of God, who fed 
 Our fathers here with manna.'' In the mount 
 Moses was forty days, nor eat, nor drank ; 
 And forty days Elijah, without food. 
 
 Wandered this barren waste ; the same I now : 
 Why dost thou then suggest to me distrust. 
 Knowing who I am, as I know who thou art.'*' 
 
 Whom thus answered the arch-fiend, now undis- 
 guised : 
 ' 'Tis true I am that spirit unfortunate. 
 Who, leagued with millions more in rash revolt, 
 Kept not my happy station, but was driven 
 With them from bliss to the bottomless deep ; 
 Yet to that hideous place not so confined 
 By rigour unconniving, but that oft. 
 Leaving my dolorous prison, I enjoy 
 Large liberty to round this globe of earth. 
 Or range in the air ; nor from the heaven of heavens 
 Hath he excluded my resort sometimes. 
 I came among the sons of God, when he 
 Gave up into my hands Uzzean Job 
 To prove him, and illustrate his high worth ; 
 And, when to all his angels he proposed 
 To draw the proud king Ahab into fraud 
 That he might fall in Ramotb, they demurring, 
 I undertook that office, and the tongues 
 Of all his flattering prophets glibbed with lies 
 To bis destruction, as I had in charge ; 
 For what he bids I do. Though I have lost 
 Much lustre of my native brightness, lost 
 To be beloved of God, I have not lost 
 To love, at least contemplate and admire. 
 What I see excellent in good, or fair. 
 Or virtuous ; I should so have lost all sense : 
 What can be then less in me than desire 
 To see thee, and approach thee, whom I know 
 Declared the Son of God, to hear attent 
 Thy wisdom, and behold thy god-like deeds ? 
 Men generally think me much a foe 
 To all mankind : why should I.? they to me 
 Never did wrong or violence ; by them 
 I lost not what I lost, rather by them 
 I gained what T have gained, and with them dwell, 
 Copartner in these regions of the world. 
 If not disposer; lend them oft my aid. 
 Oft my advice by presages and signs. 
 And answers, oracles, portents, and dreams. 
 Whereby they may direct their future life. 
 Envy they say excites me, thus to gain 
 Companions of my misery and woe. 
 At first it may be ; but long since with woe 
 Nearer acquainted, now I feel, by proof. 
 That fellowship in pain divides not smart. 
 Nor lightens aught each man's peculiar load. 
 Small consolation then, were man adjoined : 
 This wounds me most, (what can it less ?) that man, 
 Man fallen, shall be restored ; I, never more.' 
 
 To whom onr Saviour sternly thus replied : 
 ' Deservedly thou grievest, composed of lies 
 From the beginning, and in lies wilt end ; 
 Who boastest release from hell, and leave to come 
 Into the heaven of heavens : thou comest indeed 
 As a poor miserable captive thrall 
 Comes to the place where he before had sat 
 Among the prime in splendour, now deposed. 
 
 i 
 
Book I. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 101 
 
 Ejected, emptied, gazed, unpitied, shunned, 
 
 A spectacle of ruin or of scorn 
 
 To all the host of heaven ; the happy place 
 
 Imparts to thee no happiness, no joy, 
 
 Rather inflames thy torment : representing' 
 
 Lost bliss, to thee no more communicable. 
 
 So never more in hell than when in heaven. 
 
 But thou art serviceable to heaven's King. 
 
 Wilt thou impute to obedience what thy fear 
 
 Extorts, or pleasure to do ill excites ? 
 
 What but thy malice moved thee to misdeem 
 
 Of righteous Job, then cruelly to afflict him 
 
 With all inflictions.'* but his patience vron. 
 
 The other service was thy chosen task, 
 
 To be a liar in four hundred mouths; 
 
 For lying is thy sustenance, thy food. 
 
 Yet thou pretendest to truth ; all oracles 
 
 By thee are given, and what confessed more true 
 
 Among the nations ? that hath been thy craft, 
 
 By mixing somewhat true to vent more lies. 
 
 But what have been thy answers .•* what but dark, 
 
 Ambiguous, and with double sense deluding, 
 
 Which they who asked have seldom understood. 
 
 And, not well understood, as good not known ? 
 
 Who ever by consulting at thy shrine 
 
 Returned the wiser, or the more instruct. 
 
 To fly or follow what concerned him most, 
 
 And run not sooner to his fatal snare ? 
 
 For God hath justly given the nations up 
 
 To thy delusions; justly, since they fell 
 
 Idolatrous: but, when his purpose is 
 
 Among them to declare his providence 
 
 To thee not known, whence hast thou then thy truth. 
 
 But from him, or his angels president 
 
 In every province, who, themselves disdaining 
 
 To approach thy temples, give thee in command 
 
 What, to the smallest tittle, thou shalt say, 
 
 To thy adorers ? Thou, with trembling fear. 
 
 Or like a fawning parasite, obeyest: 
 
 Then to thyself ascribest the truth foretold. 
 
 But this thy glory shall be soon retrenched ; 
 
 No more shalt thou by oracling abuse 
 
 The Gentiles ; henceforth oracles are ceased. 
 
 And thou no more with pomp and sacrifice 
 
 Shalt be inquired at Delpbos, or elsewhere; 
 
 At least in vain, for they shall find thee mute. 
 
 God hath now sent his living oracle 
 
 Into the world to teach his final will, 
 
 And sends his Spirit of truth henceforth to dwell 
 
 In pious hearts, an inward oracle 
 
 To all truth requisite for men to know.' 
 
 So spake our Saviour, but the subtle fiend. 
 Though inly stung with anger and disdain. 
 Dissembled, and this answer smooth returned : 
 
 * Sharply thou hast insisted on rebuke, 
 And urged me hard with doings, which not will 
 But misery hath wrested from me. Where 
 Easily canst thou find one miserable. 
 And not enforced oft-times to part from truth, 
 If it may stand him more in stead to He, 
 Say and unsay, feign, flatter, or abjure."* 
 But thou art placed above me, thou art Lord; 
 From thee I can, and must, submiss endure 
 Check or reproof, and glad to escape so quit. 
 Hard are the ways of truth, and rough to walk, 
 Smooth on the tongue discoursed, pleasing to the ear, 
 And tuneable as sylvan pipe or song; 
 What wonder then if I delight to hear 
 Her dictates from thy mouth .'' Most men admire 
 Virtue, who follow not her lore : permit me 
 To hear thee when I come, (since no man comes,) 
 And talk at least, though I despair to attain. 
 Thy Father, who is holy, wise, and pure, 
 SuflTers the hypocrite or atheous priest 
 To tread his sacred courts, and minister 
 About his altar, handling holy things, 
 Praying or vowing ; and vouchsafed his voice 
 To Balaam reprobate, a prophet yet 
 Inspired : disdain not such access to me.' 
 
 To whom our Saviour, with unaltered brow : 
 ' Thy coming hither, though I know thy scope, 
 I bid not, or forbid ; do as thou findest 
 Permission from above ; thou canst not more.' 
 
 He added not ; and Satan, bowing low 
 His gray dissimulation, disappeared 
 Into thin air diff'used : for now began 
 Night with her sullen wings to double-shade 
 The desert ; fowls in their clay nests were couched ; 
 And now wild beasts came forth the woods to roam. 
 
102 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book II. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The disciples of Jesus, uneasy at his long absence, reason amongst themselves concerning: it Mary also gives vent to her maternal 
 anxiety ; in the expression of which she recapitulates mnnv circumstances respecting the birth and early life of her Son. Satan 
 again meets his infernal council, reports the bad success of his first temptation of our blessed Lord, and calls upon them for coun- 
 sel and assistance. Belial projKjses the tempting of Jesus with women. Satan rebukes Helial for his dissoluteness, charging on 
 him all the profligacy of that kind ascribed by the poets to the heathen gods, and rejects his proposal as in no respect likely to 
 succeed. Satan then suggests other modes of temptation, particularly proposing to avail himself of the circumstance of our Lord's 
 hungering; and. taking a band of chosen spirits with him, returns to resume his enterprise. Jesus hungers in the desert Night 
 comes on ; the manner in which our Saviour passes the night is described. Morning advances. Satan again appears to Jesus, and, 
 after expressing wonder that he should be so entirely nesrlected in the wilderness, where others had been miraculously fed. tempts 
 him with a sumptuous banquet of the most luxurious kind. This he rejects, and the banquet vanishes. Satan, finding our Lord 
 not to be assailed on the ground of appetite, tempts him again by oflering him riches, as the means of acquiring power : this Jesus 
 also rejects, producing many instances of great actions performed by persons under virtuous poverty, and specifying the danger of 
 riches, and the cares and pains inseparable from power and greatness. 
 
 Meanwhile tlie new-baptized, who yet remained 
 At Jordan with the Baptist, and had seen 
 Him wliom they heard so late expressly called 
 Jesus Messiah, Son of God declared. 
 And on that high authority had believed. 
 And with him talked, and with him lodged ; I mean 
 Andrew and Simon, famous after known. 
 With others, though in holy writ not named ; 
 Now missing him, their joy so lately found, 
 (So lately found, and so abruptly gone,) 
 Began to doubt, and doubted many days, 
 And as the days increased, increased their doubt. 
 Sometimes they thought he might be only shown, 
 And for a time cauj^ht up to God, as once 
 Moses was in the mount and missing long. 
 And the great Thisbite, who on fiery wheels 
 Rode up to heaven, yet once again to come : 
 Therefore, as those young prophets then with care 
 Sought lost Elijah, so in each place these 
 Nigh to Bethabara ; in Jericho 
 The city of palms, .^non, and Salem old, 
 Machaerus, and each town or city walled 
 On this side the broad lake Genezaret, 
 Or in Peraea ; but returned in vain. 
 Then on the bank of Jordan, by a creek, 
 Where winds with reeds and osiers whispering play, 
 Plain fishermen, (no greater men them call,) 
 Close in a cottage low together got, 
 Their unexpected loss and plaints oulbreathed : 
 * Alas, from what high hope to what relapse 
 Unlooked for are we fallen ! our eyes beheld 
 Messiah certainly now come, so long 
 Expected of our fathers ; we have heard 
 His words, his wisdom full of grace and truth. 
 " Now, now, for sure, deliverance is at hand. 
 The kingdom shall to Israel be restored ;" 
 Thus we rejoiced, but soon our joy is turned 
 Into perplexity and new amaze : 
 For whither is he gone, what accident 
 Hath rapt him from us ? will he now retire 
 After appearance, and again prolong 
 Our expectation ? God of Israel, 
 Send tliy Messiah forth, the time is come : 
 
 Behold the kings of the earth, how they oppress 
 
 Thy chosen; to what highth their power unjust 
 
 They have exalted, and behind them cast 
 
 All fear of thee ; arise, and vindicate 
 
 Thy glory; free thy people from their yoke. 
 
 But let us wait ; thus far he hath performed, 
 
 Sent his Anointed, and to us revealed him 
 
 By his great prophet, pointed at and shown 
 
 In public, and with him we have conversed : 
 
 Let us be glad of this, and all our fears 
 
 Lay on his providence ; he will not fail, 
 
 Nor will withdraw him now, nor will recall. 
 
 Mock us with his blest sight, then snatch him hence. 
 
 Soon shall we see our hope, our joy, return.' 
 
 Thus they, out of their plaints, new hope resume 
 To find whom at the first they found unsought: 
 But, to his mother Mary, when she saw 
 Others returned from baptism, not her son, 
 Nor left at Jordan, tidings of him none. 
 Within her breast though calm, her breast though 
 
 pure. 
 Motherly cares and fears got head, and raised 
 Some troubled thoughts, which she in sighs thus clad : 
 
 ' 0, what avails me now that honour high, 
 To have conceived of God, or that salute, 
 " Hail, highly favoured, among women blest!" 
 While I to sorrows am no less advanced, 
 And fears as eminent, above the lot 
 Of other women, by the birth I bore ; 
 In such a season born, when scarce a shed 
 Could be obtained to shelter him or me 
 From the bleak air ; a stable was our warmth, 
 A manger his ; yet soon enforced to fly 
 Thence into Egypt, till the murderous king 
 Were dead, who sought his life, and missing filled 
 With infant blood tlie streets of Bethlehem ; 
 From Egypt home returned in Nazareth 
 Hath been our dwelling many years ; his life 
 Private, unactive, calm, contemplative. 
 Little suspicious to any king; but now. 
 Full grown to man, acknowledged, as I hear. 
 By John the Baptist, and in public shown. 
 Son owned from heaven by his Father's voice, 
 
Book II. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 103 
 
 I looked for some great cbang-e ; to honour? uo, 
 
 But trouble, as old Simeon plain foretold, 
 
 That to tlie fall and rising he should be 
 
 Of many in Israel, and to a sign 
 
 Spoken against, that through my very soul 
 
 A sword shall pierce : this is my favoured lot, 
 
 My exaltation to afflictions high ! 
 
 Afflicted I may be, it seems, and blest ; 
 
 I will not argue that, nor will repine. 
 
 But where delays he now ? some great intent 
 
 Conceals him: when twelve years he scarce had seen, 
 
 I lost him, but so found, as well I saw 
 
 He could not lose himself, but went about 
 
 His Father's business ; what he meant I mused. 
 
 Since understand ; much more his absence now 
 
 Thus long to some great purpose he obscures. 
 
 But I to wait with patience am inured; 
 
 My heart hath been a store-house long of things. 
 
 And sayings laid up, portending strange events.' 
 
 Thus Mary, pondering oft, and oft to mind 
 Recalling what remarkably had passed 
 Since fii-st her salutation heard, with thoughts 
 Meekly composed awaited the fulfilling: 
 The while her Son, tracing the desert wild. 
 Sole, but with holiest meditations fed, 
 Into himself descended, and at once 
 All his great work to come before him set; 
 How to begin, how to accomplish best 
 His end of being on earth, and mission high : 
 For Satan, with sly preface to return, 
 Had left him vacant, and with speed was gone 
 Up to the middle region of thick air. 
 Where all his potentates in council sat : 
 There, without sign of boast, or sign of joy, 
 Solicitous and blank, he thus began : 
 
 ' Princes, heaven's ancient sons, ethereal thrones ; 
 Demonian spirits now, from the element 
 Each of his reign allotted, rightlier called 
 Powers of fire, air, water, and earth beneath, 
 (So may we hold our place and these mild seats 
 Without new trouble,) such an enemy 
 Is risen to invade us, who no less 
 Threatens than our expulsion down to hell ; 
 I, as I undertook, and with the vote 
 Consenting in full frequence was impowered. 
 Have found him, viewed him, tasted him; but find 
 Far other labour to be undergone 
 Than when I dealt with Adam, first of men. 
 Though Adam by his wife's allurement fell. 
 However to this man inferior far; 
 If he be man by mother's side, at least 
 With more than human gifts from heaven adorned, 
 Perfections absolute, graces divine. 
 And amplitude of mind to greatest deeds. 
 Therefore I am returned, lest confidence 
 Of my success with Eve in Paradise 
 Deceive ye to persuasion over-sure 
 Of like succeeding here : I summon all 
 Rather to be in readiness, with hand 
 Or counsel to assist : lest I, who erst 
 Thought none my equal, now be over-matched.' 
 
 So spake the old serpent, doubting ; and from all 
 With clamour was assured their utmost aid 
 At his command : when from amidst them rose 
 Belial, the dissolutest spirit that fell, 
 The sensualest, and, after Asmodai, 
 The fleshiest incubus ; and thus advised : 
 
 ' Set women in his eye, and in his walk. 
 Among daughters of men the fairest found: 
 Many are in each region passing fair 
 As the noon sky ; more like to goddesses 
 Than mortal creatures, graceful and discreet, 
 Expert in amorous arts, enchanting tongues 
 Persuasive, virgin majesty with mild 
 And sweet allayed, yet terrible to approach, 
 Skilled to retire, and, in retiring, draw 
 Hearts after them, tangled in amorous nets. 
 Such object hath the power to soften and tame 
 Severest temper, smooth the ruggedest brow, 
 Enerve, and with voluptuous hope dissolve, 
 Draw out with credulous desire, and lead 
 At will the manliest, resolutest breast. 
 As the magnetic hardest iron draws. 
 Women, when nothing else, beguiled the heart 
 Of wisest Solomon, and made him build. 
 And made him bow, to the gods of his wives.' 
 
 To whom quick answer Satan thus returned : 
 ' Belial, in much uneven scale thou weighest 
 All others by thyself; because of old 
 Thou thyself doatest on womankind, admiring 
 Their shape, their colour, and attractive grace. 
 None are, thou thinkest, but taken with such toys 
 Before the flood thou with thy lusty crew. 
 False-titled sous of God, roaming the earth. 
 Cast wanton eyes on the daughters of men, 
 And coupled with them, and begot a race. 
 Have we not seen, or by relation heard. 
 In courts and regal chambers how thou lurkest. 
 In wood or grove, by mossy fountain-side. 
 In valley or green meadow, to way-lay 
 Some beauty rare, Calisto, Clymene, 
 Daphne, or Semele, Antiopa, 
 Or Aniymone, Syrinx, many more 
 Too long, then layest thy 'scapes on names adored, 
 Apollo, Neptune, Jupiter, or Pan, 
 Satyr, or Faun, or Sylvan ? But these haunts 
 Delight not all ; among the sons of men. 
 How many have with a smile made small account 
 Of beauty and her lures, easily scorned 
 All her assaults, on worthier things intent ! 
 Remember that Pelican conqueror, 
 A youth, how all the beauties of the East 
 He slightly viewed, and slightly overpassed ; 
 How he, surnamed of Africa, dismissed. 
 In his prime youth, the fair Iberian maid. 
 For Solomon, he lived at ease, and full 
 Of honour, wealth, high fare, aimed not beyond 
 Higher design than to enjoy his state; 
 Thence to the bait of women lay exposed ; 
 But he, whom we attempt, is wiser far 
 Than Solomon, of more exalted mind, 
 Made and set wholly on the accomplishment 
 
104 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Boor II. 
 
 Of fifreatest thin^. What woman will you find, 
 
 Though of this age the wonder and the fame, 
 
 On whom his leisure will vouchsafe an eye 
 
 Of fond desire ? Or should she, confident, 
 
 As sitting queen adored on beauty's throne, 
 
 Descend with all her winning charms begirt 
 
 To enamour, as the zone of Venus once 
 
 Wrought that effect on Jove, so fables tell ; 
 
 How would one look from his majestic brow, 
 
 Seated as on the top of virtue's hill, 
 
 Discountenance her despised, and put to rout 
 
 All her array ; her female pride deject. 
 
 Or turn to reverent awe ! for beauty stands 
 
 In the admiration only of weak minds 
 
 Led captive ; cease to admire, and all her plumes 
 
 Fall flat, and shrink into a trivial toy, 
 
 At every sudden slighting quite abashed. 
 
 Therefore with manlier objects we must try 
 
 His constancy; with such as have more show 
 
 Of worth, of honour, glory, and popular praise. 
 
 Rocks whereon greatest men have oftest wrecked ; 
 
 Or that which only seems to satisfy 
 
 Lawful desires of nature, not beyond ; 
 
 And now I know he hungers, where no food 
 
 Is to be found, in the wide wilderness : 
 
 The rest commit to me ; I shall let pass 
 
 No advantage, and his strength as oft assay.' 
 
 He ceased, and heard their grant in loud acclaim ; 
 Then forthwith to him takes a chosen band 
 Of spirits, likest to himself in guile. 
 To be at hand, and at his beck appear. 
 If cause were to unfold some active scene 
 Of various persons, each to know bis part ; 
 Then to the desert takes with these bis flight; 
 Where, still from shade to shade, the Son of God 
 After forty days' fasting had remained, 
 Now hungering first, and to himself thus said : 
 
 ' Where will this end .'* four times ten days I've 
 passed 
 Wandering this woody maze, and human food 
 Nor tasted, nor had appetite : that fast 
 To virtue I impute not, or count part 
 Of what I suffer hjere : if nature need not. 
 Or God support nature without repast 
 Though needing, what praise is it to endure ? 
 But now I feel I hunger, which declares 
 Nature hath need of what she asks ; yet God 
 Can satisfy that need some other way, 
 Though hunger still remain : so it remain 
 Without this body's wasting, I content me. 
 And from the sting of famine fear no harm ; 
 Nor mind it, fed with better thoughts, that feed 
 Me hungering more to do my Father's will.' 
 
 It was the hour of night, when thus the Son 
 Communed in silent walk, then laid him down 
 Under the hospitable covert nigh 
 Of trees thick interwoven ; there he slept, 
 And dreamed, as appetite is wont to dream. 
 Of meats and drinks, nature's refreshment sweet : 
 Him thought, he by the brook of Cherith stood. 
 And saw the ravens with their horny beaks 
 
 Food to Elijah bringing, even and mom. 
 
 Though ravenous, taught to abstain from what they 
 
 brought: 
 He saw the prophet also, how he fled 
 Into the desert, and how there he slept 
 Under a juniper; then how awaked 
 He found his supper on the coals prepared. 
 And by the angel was bid rise and eat. 
 And eat the second time after repose, 
 The strength whereof sufficed him forty days: 
 Sometimes that with Elijah he partook. 
 Or as a guest with Daniel at his pulse. 
 Thus wore out night; and now the herald lark 
 Left his ground-nest, high towering to descry 
 The mom's approach, and greet her with his song : 
 As lightly from his grassy couch up-rose 
 Our Saviour, and found all was but a dream ; 
 Fasting he went to sleep, and fasting waked. 
 Up to a hill anon his steps he reared, 
 From whose high top to ken the prospect round, 
 Tf cottage were in view, sheep-cote, or herd ; 
 But cottage, herd, or sheep-cote, none he saw ; 
 Only in a bottom saw a pleasant grove. 
 With chat of tuneful birds resounding loud : 
 Thither he bent his way, determined there 
 To rest at noon, and entered soon the shade 
 High roofed, and walks beneath, and alleys brown, 
 That opened in the midst a woody scene; 
 Nature's own work it seemed, (nature taught art,) 
 And, to a superstitious eye, the haunt 
 Of wood-gods and wood-nymphs: he viewed it round. 
 When suddenly a man before him stood ; 
 Not rustic as before, but seemlier clad. 
 As one in city, or court, or palace bred. 
 And with fair speech these words to him addressed : 
 
   With granted leave officious I return. 
 But much more wonder that the Son of God 
 In this wild solitude so long should bide. 
 Of all things destitute ; and well I know. 
 Not without hunger. Others of some note. 
 As story tells, have trod this wilderness ; 
 The fugitive bond-woman, with her son. 
 Outcast Nebaioth, yet found here relief 
 By a providing angel ; all the race 
 Of Israel here had famished, had not God 
 Rained from heaven manna; and that prophet bold," 
 Native of Thebez, wandering here was fed 
 Twice by a voice inviting him to eat : 
 Of thee these forty days none hath regard, 
 Forty and more deserted here indeed.' 
 
 To whom thus Jesus: ' What concludest thou hence? 
 They all had need ; I, as thou seest, have none.' 
 
 ' How hast thou hunger then ?' Satan replied. 
 ' Tell me, if food were now before thee set, 
 Wouldst thou not eat ?' * Thereafter as I like 
 The giver,' answered Jesus. ' Why should that 
 Cause thy refusal?' said the subtle fiend. 
 ' Hast thou not right to all created things'* 
 Owe not all creatures by just right to thee 
 Duty and service, nor to stay till bid. 
 But tender all their power ? Nor mention I 
 
Book II. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 105 
 
 Meats by the law unclean, or offered first 
 
 To idols, those young' Daniel could refuse ; 
 
 Nor proffered by an enemy, though who 
 
 Would scruple that, with want oppressed ? Behold, 
 
 Nature ashamed, or, better to express, 
 
 Troubled, that thou shouldst hunger, hath purveyed 
 
 From all the elements her choicest store, 
 
 To treat thee, as beseems, and as her Lord, 
 
 With honour: only deign to sit and eat.' 
 
 He spake no dream ; for, as his words had end. 
 Our Saviour lifting up his eyes beheld. 
 In ample space under the broadest shade, 
 A table richly spread, in regal mode. 
 With dishes piled, and meats of noblest sort 
 And savour; beasts of chase, or fowl of game, 
 In pastry built, or from the spit, or boiled, 
 Gris-amber-steamed ; all fish, from sea or shore, 
 Freshet or purling brook, or shell or fin. 
 And exquisitest name, for which was drained 
 Pontus, and Lucrine bay, and Afric coast. 
 (Alas ! how simple, to these cates compared, 
 Was that crude apple that diverted Eve !) 
 And at a stately sideboard, by the wine 
 That fragrant smell diffused, in order stood 
 Tall stripling youths rich clad, of fairer hue 
 Than Ganymed or Hylas; distant more 
 Under the trees now tripped, now solemn stood. 
 Nymphs of Diana's train, and Naiades, 
 With fruits and flowers from Amalthea's horn, 
 And ladies of the Hesperides, that seemed 
 Fairer than feigned of old, or fabled since 
 Of faery damsels, met in foresi wide 
 By knights of Logrcs, or of Lyones, 
 Lancelot, or Pelleas, or Pellenore. 
 And all the while harmonious airs were heard 
 Of chiming strings, or charming pipes; and winds 
 Of gentlest gale Arabian odours fanned 
 From their soft wings, and Flora's earliest smells. 
 Such was the splendour; and the tempter now 
 His invitation earnestly renewed , 
 
 ' What doubts the Son of God to sit and eat.'' 
 These are not fruits forbidden ; no interdict 
 Defends the touching of these viands pure ; 
 Their taste no knowledge works, at least of evil, 
 But life preserves, destroys life's enemy, 
 Hunger, with sweet restorative delight. 
 All these are spirits of air, and woods, and springs, 
 Thy gentle ministers, who come to pay 
 Thee homage, and acknowledge thee their Lord ; 
 What doubtest thou. Son of God ? Sit down and eat.' 
 
 To whom thus Jesus temperately replied : 
 ' Saidest thou not that to all things I had right.'' 
 And who withholds my power that right to use."* 
 Shall I receive by gift what of my own. 
 When and where likes me best, I can command ? 
 I can at will, doubt not, as soon as thou, 
 Command a table in this wilderness. 
 And call swift flights of angels ministrant 
 Arrayed in glory on my cup to attend : 
 Why shouldst thou then obtrude this diligence, 
 In vain, where no acceptance it can find .'' 
 
 And with my hunger what hast thou to do ? 
 
 Thy pompous delicacies I contemn. 
 
 And count thy specious gifts no gifts, but guiles.' 
 
 To whom thus answered Satan malcontent: 
 ' That I have also power to give, thou seest : 
 If of that power I bring thee voluntary 
 What I might have bestowed on whom I pleased, 
 And rather opportunely in this place 
 Chose to impart to thy apparent need, 
 Why shouldst thou not accept it .'' but I see 
 What I can do or offer is suspect ; 
 Of these things others quickly will dispose, 
 Whose pains have earned the far-fet spoil.' With that 
 Both table and provision vanished quite 
 With sound of harpies' wings and talons heard : 
 Only the importune tempter still remained. 
 And with these words his temptation pursued : 
 ' By hunger, that each other creature tames, 
 Thou art not to be harmed, therefore not moved ; 
 Thy temperance invincible besides, 
 For no allurement yields to appetite; 
 And all thy heart is set on high designs. 
 High actions : but wherewith to be achieved ? 
 Great acts require great means of enterprise ; 
 Thou art unknown, unfriended, low of birth, 
 A carpenter thy father known, thyself 
 Bred up in poverty and straits at home, 
 Lost in a desert here and hunger-bit: 
 Which way, or from what hope, dost thou aspire 
 To greatness? whence authority derivest? 
 What followers, what retinue, canst thou gain, 
 Or at thy heels the dizzy multitude, 
 Longer than thou canst feed them on thy cost? 
 Money brings honour, friends, conquest, and realms: 
 What raised Antipater the Edomite, 
 And his son Herod placed on Judah's throne. 
 Thy throne, but gold that got him puissant friends ? 
 Therefore, if at great things thou wouldst arrive, 
 Get riches first, get wealth, and treasure heap, 
 Not difficult, if thou hearken to me: 
 Riches are mine, fortune is in my hand ; 
 They whom I favour thrive in wealth amain. 
 While virtue, valour, wisdom, sit in want.' 
 To whom thus Jesus patiently replied : 
 ' Yet wealth, without these three, is impotent 
 To gain dominion, or to keep it gained. 
 Witness those ancient empires of the earth. 
 In highth of all their flowing wealth dissolved : 
 But men endued with these have oft attained 
 In lowest poverty to highest deeds ; 
 Gideon, and Jephtha, and the shepherd lad 
 Whose offspring on the throne of Judah sat 
 So many ages, and shall yet regain 
 That seat, and reign in Israel without end. 
 Among the heathen (for throughout the world 
 To me is not unknown what hath been done 
 Worthy of memorial) canst thou not remember 
 Quintius, Fabricius, Curius, Regulus ? 
 For I esteem those names of men so poor. 
 Who could do mighty things, and could contemn 
 Riches, though offered from the hand of kings. 
 
106 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 And what in me seems wanting", but that I 
 May also in this poverty as soon 
 Accomplish wiiat they did, perhaps and more .'* 
 Extol not riches then, the toil of fools. 
 The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare ; more apt 
 To slacken virtue, and abate her edge. 
 Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise. 
 What if with like aversion I reject 
 Riches and realms ? yet not for that a crown, 
 Golden in show, is but a wreath of thorns, 
 Brings dangers, troubles, cares, and sleepless nights. 
 To him who wears the regal diadem. 
 When on his shoulders each man's burden lies ; 
 For therein stands the office of a king, 
 His honour, virtue, merit, and chief praise. 
 That for the public all this weight he bears : 
 ^YeX. be, who reigns within himself, and rules 
 y Passions, desires, and fears, is more a king; 
 Which every wise and virtuous man attains ; 
 
 And who attains not, ill aspires to rule 
 Cities of men, or headstrong multitudes, 
 Subject himself to anarchy within, 
 Or lawless passions in him, which he serves. 
 But to guide nations in the way of truth 
 By saving doctrine, and from error lead 
 To know, and knowing worship God aright. 
 Is yet more kingly; this attracts the soul. 
 Governs the inner man, the nobler part ; 
 That other o'er the body only reigns, 
 And oft by force, which to a generous mind, 
 So reigning, can be no sincere delight. 
 Besides, to give a kingdom hath been thought 
 Greater and nobler done, and to lay down 
 Far more magnanimous than to assume. 
 Riches are needless then, both for themselves, 
 And for thy reason why they should be sought, 
 To gain a scepter, oftest better missed.' 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 ^gjjl^. in a speech of much flattering """""°"^^'»''^" ^n^p-^yr^uro tn »Ti.oVcn in j^fj^i g a passion for glp r y by particularisine various 
 instances of conquests achieved, and preat actions performed, by persons at an early period of life. Our Lord replies, by showing 
 the vanity of worldly fame, and the improi^er means by which it is trenerally attained ; and contrasts with it the true glory of reli- 
 gious patience and virtuous wisdom, as exemplified in the character of Job. Satan Justifies the love of glorv from the example of 
 God himself, who requires it from all his creatures. Jesus detects the fallacy of this argument, by showing that, as goodness is the 
 true ground on which glory is due to the great Creator of all things, sinful man can have no right whatever to it. Satan then urges our 
 Lord respecting his claimto the throne of David; he tells him that the kingdom of Judea, being at that time a province of Rome, 
 cannot be got pos.session of without much personal exertion on his part, and presses him to lose no time in beginning to reign. 
 Jesus refers him to the time allotted tor this, as for all other things; and, after intunating somewhat respecting his own previous suf- 
 ferings, asks Satan why he should be so .'olicitous for the exaltation of one, whose rising was destined to be his fall. Satan replies, 
 that his own desperate" state, by excluding all hope, leaves little room for fear ; and that, as his own punishment was equally doom- 
 ed, he is not interested in preventing the reign of one, from whose apparent benevolence he might rather hope for some interference 
 jn his favour. Satan still pursues his former incitements; and, supposing that the seemingreluctanceof Jesus to be thus advanced 
 might arise from his being unacquainted with the world and its glories, conveys hir p tn tin- summit nf a hi^di mount:uj i, and from 
 thence shows him most of the kingdoms of Asia, particularly pointing out to his notice some extraorninary military preparations 
 of the Parthians to resist the incursions of the Scythians. He then informs our Lord, that he showed him" this purposely that he 
 might see how necessary military exertions are to retain the possession of kingdoms, as well as to subdue them at first, and advises him 
 to consider how impossible it was to maintain Judea against two such powerful neighbours as the Romans and Parthians, and how 
 necessary it would be to form an alliance with one or other of them. At the same time he recommends, and engages to secure to 
 him, that of the Parthians ; and tells him that by this means his power will be defended from any thing that Rome or Caesar might 
 attempt against it, and that he will be able to extend his g'lory wide, and especially to accomplish" what was particularly necessary 
 to make the throne of Judea really the throne of David, the deliverance and restoration of the ten tribes, still in a state of 
 captivity. Jesus, having briefly noticed the vanity of military efforts, and the weakness of the arm of flesh, says, that when the 
 time comes for his ascending his allotted throne, fie shall not be slack : he remarks on Satan's extraordinary zeal for the deliver- 
 ance of the Israelites, to whom he had always showed himself an enemy, and declares their servitude to be the consequence of 
 their idolatry ; but adds, that at a future time it may perhaps please God to recall them, and restore them to their liberty and native 
 land. 
 
 So spake the Son of God ; and Satan stood 
 A while as mute, confounded what to say. 
 What to reply, confuted and convinced 
 Of his weak arguing and fallacious drift; 
 At length, collecting all his serpent wiles. 
 With soothing words renewed, him thus accosts: 
 
 ' I see thou knowest what is of use to know, 
 What best to say canst say, to do canst do ; • 
 
 Thy actions to thy words accord, thy words 
 To thy large heart give utterance due, thy heart 
 Contains of good, wise, just, the perfect shape. 
 Should kings and nations from thy mouth consult, 
 Thy counsel would be as the oracle 
 Urim and Thummim, those oraculous gems 
 On Aaron's breast ; or tongue of seers old. 
 
 Infallible : or wert thou sought to deeds 
 That might require the array of war, thy skill 
 Of conduct would be such, that all the world 
 Could not sustain thy prowess, or subsist 
 In battle, though against thy few in arms. 
 These god-like virtues wherefore dost thou hide, 
 Affecting private life, or more obscure 
 In savage wilderness .'' wherefore deprive 
 All earth her wonder at thy acts, thyself 
 The fame and glory, glory the reward 
 That sole excites to high attempts, the flame 
 Of most erected spirits, most tempered pure 
 Ethereal, who all pleasures else despise, 
 All treasures and all gain esteem as dross. 
 And dignities and powers all but the highest P 
 
Book III. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 107 
 
 Thy years are ripe, and over-ripe ; the son 
 Of Macedonian Philip had ere these 
 Won Asia, and the throne of Cyrus held 
 At his dispose ; young' Scipio had hrought down 
 The Carthaginian pride ; young Pompey quelled 
 The Pontic king, and in triumph had rode. 
 Yet years, and to ripe years judgment mature, 
 Quench not the thirst of glory, but augment. 
 Great Julius, whom now all the world admires, 
 The more he grew in years, the more inflamed 
 With glory, wept that he had lived so long 
 Inglorious : but thou yet art not too late.' 
 
 To whom our Saviour calmly thus replied : 
 ' Thou neither dost persuade me to seek wealth 
 For empire's sake, nor empire to affect 
 For glory's sake, by all thy argument. 
 For what is glory but the blaze of fame. 
 The people's praise, if always praise unmixed.'* 
 And what the people but a herd confused, 
 A miscellaneous rabble, who extol 
 Things vulgar, and, well weighed, scarce worth the 
 
 praise .'' 
 They praise, and they admire, they know not what, 
 And know not whom, but as one leads the other ; 
 And what delight to be by such extolled. 
 To live upon their tongues, and be their talk, 
 Of whom to be dispraised were no small praise, 
 His lot who dares be singularly good .'* 
 The intelligent among- them and the wise 
 Are few, and glory scarce of few is raised. 
 This is true glory and renown; when God, 
 Looking on the earth, with approbation marks 
 The just man, and divulg-es him through heaven 
 To all his angels, who with true applause 
 Recount his praises ; thus he did to Job, 
 When to extend his fame through heaven and earth, 
 As thou to thy reproach mayest well remember, 
 He asked thee, " Hast thou seen my servant Job ?" 
 Famous he was in heaven, on earth less known; 
 Where glory is false glory, attributed 
 To things not glorious, men not worthy of fame. 
 They err, who count it glorious to subdue 
 By conquest far and wide, to over-run 
 Large countries, and in fields great battles win. 
 Great cities by assault: what do these worthies, 
 But rob and spoil, burn, slaughter, and enslave 
 Peaceable nations, neighbouring or remote, 
 Made captive, yet deserving freedom more 
 Than those their conquerors, who leave behind 
 Nothing but ruin wheresoe'er they rove. 
 And all the floHrishing works of peace destroy ; 
 Then swell with pride, and must be titled gods. 
 Great benefactors of mankind, deliverers, 
 Worshipt with temple, priest, and sacrifice ? 
 One is the son of Jove, of Mars the other ; 
 Till conqueror Death discover them scarce men. 
 Rolling in brutish vices and deformed. 
 Violent or shameful death their due reward. 
 But if there be in glory aught of good, 
 It may by means far different be attained. 
 Without ambition, war, or violence ; 
 
 By deeds of peace, by wisdom eminent. 
 
 By patience, temperance : I mention still 
 
 Him, whom thy wrongs, with saintly patience borne, 
 
 Made famous in a land and times obscure ; 
 
 Who names not now with honour patient Job ? 
 
 Poor Socrates, (who next more memorable .'') 
 
 By what he taught, and suffered for so doing. 
 
 For truth's sake suffering death, unjust, lives now 
 
 Equal in fame to proudest conquerors. 
 
 Yet if for fame and glory aught be done. 
 
 Aught sufl^ered ; if young African for fame 
 
 His wasted country freed from Punic rage ; 
 
 The deed becomes unpraised, the man at least, 
 
 And loses, though but verbal, his reward : 
 
 Shall I seek glory then, as vain men seek, 
 
 Oft not deserved .'' I seek not mine, but his 
 
 Who sent me; and thereby witness whence I am.' 
 
 To whom the tempter murmuring thus replied : 
 ' Think not so slight of glory ; therein least 
 Resembling thy great Father : he seeks glory. 
 And for his glory all things made, all things 
 Orders and governs ; nor content in heaven 
 By all his angels glorified, requires 
 Glory from men, from all men, good or bad. 
 Wise or unwise, no difference, no exemption; 
 Above all sacrifice, or hallowed gift. 
 Glory he requires, and glory he receives. 
 Promiscuous from all nations, Jew or Greek, 
 Or barbarous, nor exception hath declared ; 
 From us, his foes pronounced, glory he exacts.' 
 
 To whom our Saviour fervently replied : 
 ' And reason ; since his word all things produced, 
 Though chiefly not for glory as prime end, 
 But to show forth his goodness, and impart 
 His good communicable to every soul 
 Freely ; of whom what could he less expect 
 Than glory and benediction, that is, thanks. 
 The slightest, easiest, readiest recompense 
 From them who could return him nothing else, 
 And, not returning that, would likeliest render 
 Content instead, dishonour, obloquy ? 
 Hard recompense, unsuitable return 
 For so much good, so much beneficence ! 
 But why should man seek glory, who of his own 
 Hath nothing, and to whom nothing belongs 
 But condemnation, ignominy, and shame ? 
 Who for so many benefits received 
 Turned recreant to God, ingrate and false. 
 And so of all true good himself despoiled ; 
 Yet, sacrilegious, to himself would take 
 That which to God alone of right belongs : 
 Yet so much bounty is in God, such grace. 
 That who advance his glory, not their own. 
 Them he himself to glory will advance.' 
 
 So spake the Son of God ; and here again 
 Satan had not to answer, but stood struck 
 With guilt of his own sin ; for he himself, 
 Insatiable of glory, had lost all ; 
 Yet of another plea bethought him soon : 
 
 ' Of glory, as thou wilt,' said he, ' so deem ; 
 Worth or not worth the seeking, let it pass. 
 
108 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book III. 
 
 But to a king'dom thou art born, ordained 
 
 To sit upon tliy father David's throne, 
 
 By mother's side thy father ; though thy right 
 
 Be now in powerful bands, that will not part 
 
 Easily from possession won with arms : 
 
 Judea now and all the promised land, 
 
 Reduced a province under Roman yoke. 
 
 Obeys Tiberius; nor is always ruled 
 
 With temperate sway; oft have they violated 
 
 The temple, oft the law, with foul aflfrouts, 
 
 Abominations rather, as did once 
 
 Antiochus : and thinkcst thou to regain 
 
 Thy ri<;ht by silting still, or thus retiring? 
 
 So did not Maccabeus : he indeed 
 
 Retired unto the desert, but with arms ; 
 
 And o'er a mighty king so oft prevailed, 
 
 That by strong hand his family obtained. 
 
 Though priests, the crown, and David's throne usurped, 
 
 With Modin and her suburbs once content. 
 
 If kingdom move thee not, let move thee zeal 
 
 And duty; and zeal and duty are not slow, 
 
 But on occasion's forelock watchful wait: 
 
 They themselves rather are occasion best; 
 
 Zeal of thy father's house, duty to free 
 
 Thy country from her heathen servitude. 
 
 So shalt thou best fulfil, best verify 
 
 The prophets old, who sung thy endless reign ; 
 
 The happier reign, the sooner it begins : 
 
 Reign then; what canst thou better do the while?' 
 
 To whom our Saviour answer thus returned : 
 ' All things are best fulfilled in their due time; 
 And time there is for all things, Truth hath said : 
 If of my reign prophetic writ hath told. 
 That it shall never end, so, when begin, 
 The Father in his purpose hath decreed ; 
 He in whose hand all times and seasons roll. 
 What if he hath decreed that I shall first 
 Be tried in humble state, and things adverse, 
 By tribulations, injuries, insults. 
 Contempts, and scorns, and snares, and violence, 
 Suffering, abstaining, quietly expecting, 
 Without distrust or doubt, that he may know 
 What I can suffer, how obey ? Who best 
 Can suffer, best can do ; best reign, who first 
 Well hath obeyed ; just trial, ere I merit 
 My exaltation without change or end. 
 But what concerns it thee, when I begin 
 My everlasting kingdom ? Why art thou 
 Solicitous? What moves thy inquisition ? 
 Knowest thou not that my rising is thy fall, 
 And my promotion will be thy destruction ? ' 
 
 To whom the tempter, inly racked, replied : 
 ' Let that come when it comes; all hope is lost 
 Of my reception into grace : what worse? 
 For where no hope is left, is left no fear: 
 If there be worse, the expectation more 
 Of worse torments me than the feeling can. 
 I would be at the worst : worst is my port, 
 My harbour, and my ultimate repose; 
 The end I would attain, my final good. 
 My error was my error, and my crime 
 
 My crime; whatever, for itself condemned ; 
 
 And will alike be punished, whether thou 
 
 Reign, or reign not ; though to that gentle brovr 
 
 Willingly could I fly, and hope thy reign. 
 
 From that placid aspect and meek regard, 
 
 Rather than aggravate my evil state, 
 
 Would stand between me and thy Father's ire, 
 
 (Whose ire I dread more than the fire of bell,) 
 
 A shelter, and a kind of shading cool 
 
 Interposition, as a summer's cloud. 
 
 If I then to the worst that can be haste. 
 
 Why move thy feet so slow to what is best, 
 
 Happiest, both to thyself and all the world. 
 
 That thou, who worthiest art, shouldst be their king? 
 
 Perhaps thou lingeresl, in deep thoughts detained 
 
 Of the enterprise .so hazardous and high ! 
 
 No wonder ; for though in thee be united 
 
 What of perfection can in man be found. 
 
 Or human nature can receive, consider, 
 
 Thy life hath yet been private, most part spent 
 
 At home, scarce viewed the Galilean towns, 
 
 And once a year Jerusalem, few days' 
 
 Short sojourn ; and what thence couldst thou observe ? 
 
 The world thou hast not seen, much less her glory. 
 
 Empires, and monarchs, and their radiant courts, 
 
 Best school of best experience, quickest insight 
 
 In all things that to greatest actions lead. 
 
 The wisest, unexperienced, will be ever 
 
 Timorous and loth ; with novice modesty 
 
 (As he who, seeking asses, found a kingdom) 
 
 Irresolute, unhardy, unadventurous: 
 
 But I will bring thee where thou soon shalt quit 
 
 Those rudiments, and see before thine eyes 
 
 The monarchies of the earth, their pomp and state ; 
 
 Sufficient introduction to inform 
 
 Thee, of thyself so apt, in regal arts, 
 
 And regal mysteries ; that thou mayest know 
 
 How best their opposition to withstand.' 
 
 With that (such power was given him then) he took 
 The Son of God up to a mountain high. 
 It was a mountain at whose verdant feet 
 A spacious plain, outstretched in circuit wide, 
 Lay pleasant; from his side two rivers flowed. 
 The one winding, the other straight, and left between 
 Fair champaign with less rivers intervened. 
 Then meeting joined their tribute to the sea; 
 Fertile of corn the glebe, of oil, and wine; 
 With herds the pastures thronged, with flocks the 
 
 hills; 
 Huge cities and high towered, that well might seem 
 The seats of mightiest monarchs; and so large 
 The prospect was, that here and there was room 
 For barren desert, fountainless and dry. 
 To this high mountain too the tempter brought 
 Our Saviour, and new train of words began : 
 
 * Well have we speeded, and o'er hill and dale, 
 Forest and field and flood, temples and towers. 
 Cut shorter many a league ; here thou beholdest 
 Assyria, and her empire's ancient bounds, 
 Araxes and the Caspian lake ; thence on 
 As far as Indus east, Euphrates west. 
 
Book ITT. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 109 
 
 And oft bej'ond : to south the Persian bay, 
 
 And, inaccessible, the Arabian droiig-ht : 
 
 Here Nineveh, of lengfth within her wall 
 
 Several days journey, built by Ninus old, 
 
 Of that first golden monarchy the seat, 
 
 And seat of Salmanassar, whose success 
 
 Israel in long' captivity still mourns ; 
 
 There Babylon, the wonder of all tongues. 
 
 As ancient, but rebuilt by him who twice 
 
 Judah and all thy father David's house 
 
 Led captive, and Jerusalem laid waste, 
 
 Till Cyrus set them free ; Persepolis, 
 
 His city, there thou seest, and Bactra Uiere; 
 
 Ecbatanaher structure vast there shows, 
 
 And Hecatompylos her hundred gates ; 
 
 There Susa by Choaspes, amber stream. 
 
 The drink of none but kings: of later fame. 
 
 Built by Emathian or by Parthian hands, 
 
 The great Seleucia, Nisibis, and there 
 
 Artaxala, Teredon, Ctesiphon, 
 
 Turning with easy eye, thou mayest behold. 
 
 All these the Parthian (now some ages past, 
 
 By great Arsaces led, who founded first 
 
 That empire) under his dominion holds. 
 
 From the luxurious kings of Antioch won. 
 
 And just in time thou comest to have a view 
 
 Of his great power ; for now the Parthian king 
 
 In Ctesiphon hath gathered all his host 
 
 Against the Scythian, whose incursions wild 
 
 Have wasted Sogdiana ; to her aid 
 
 He marches now in haste ; see, though from far. 
 
 His thousands, in what martial equipage 
 
 They issue forth, steel bows and shafts their arms, 
 
 Of equal dread in flight or in pursuit; 
 
 All horsemen, in which fight they most excel ; 
 
 See how in warlike muster they appear. 
 
 In rhombs, and wedges, and half-moons, and wings.' 
 
 He looked, and saw what numbers numberless 
 The city-gates out-poured, light-armed troops, 
 In coats of mail and military pride ; 
 In mail their horses clad, yet fleet and strong. 
 Prancing their riders bore, the flower and choice 
 Of many provinces from bound to bound ; 
 From Arachosia, from Candaor east. 
 And Margiana, to the Hyrcanian cliflTs 
 Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales; 
 From Atropatia, and the neighbouring plains 
 Of Adiabene, Media, and the south 
 Of Susiana, to Balsara's haven. 
 He saw them in their forms of battle ranged, 
 How quick they wheeled, and flying behind them 
 
 shot 
 Sharp sleet of arrowy showers against the face 
 Of their pursuers, and overcame by flight ; 
 The field all iron cast a gleaming brown : 
 Nor wanted clouds of foot, nor on each horn 
 Cuirassiers all in steel for standing fight. 
 Chariots, or elephants indorsed with towers 
 Of archers ; nor of labouring pioneers 
 A multitude, with spades and axes armed 
 To lay hills plane, fell woods, or valleys fill, 
 
 Or where plane was raise hill, or overlay 
 With bridges rivers proud, as with a yoke ; 
 Mules after these, camels and dromedaries. 
 And waggons, fraught with utensils of war. 
 Such forces met not, nor so wide a camp. 
 When Agrican with all his northern powers 
 Besieged Albracca, as romances tell. 
 The city of Gallaphrone, from whence to win 
 The fairest of her sex Angelica, 
 His daughter, sought by many prowest knights, 
 Both Paynim, and the peers of Charlemain. 
 Such and so numerous was their chivalry : 
 At sight whereof the fiend yet more presumed. 
 And to our Saviour thus his words renewed : 
 
 ' That thou mayest know I seek not to engage 
 Thy virtue, and not every way secure 
 On no slight grounds thy safety; hear and mark, 
 To what end I have brought thee hither, and shown 
 All this fair sight: thy kingdom though foretold 
 By prophet or by angel, unless thou 
 Endeavour as thy father David did. 
 Thou never shalt obtain ; prediction still 
 In all things, and all men, supposes means ; 
 Without means used, what it predicts revokes. ^ 
 
 But, say thou wert possessed of David's throne, 
 By free consent of all, none opposite, 
 Samaritan or Jew ; how couldst thou hope 
 Long to enjoy it, quiet and secure, 
 Between two such enclosing enemies, 
 Roman and Parthian .'' Therefore one of these 
 Thou must make sure thy own ; the Parthian first 
 By my advice, as nearer, and of late 
 Found able by invasion to annoy 
 Thy country, and captive lead away her kings, 
 Antigonus and old Hyrcanus, bound, 
 Maugre the Roman : it shall be my task 
 To render thee the Parthian at dispose. 
 Choose which thou wilt, by conquest or by league: 
 By him thou shalt regain, without him not. 
 That which alone can truly re-install thee 
 In David's royal seat, his true successor. 
 Deliverance of thy brethren, those ten tribes 
 Whose oflTspring in his territory yet serve. 
 In Habor, and among the Medes dispersed : 
 Ten sons of Jacob, two of Joseph, lost 
 Thus long from Israel, serving, as of old 
 Their fathers in the land of Egypt served, 
 This oflFer sets before thee to deliver. 
 These if from servitude thou shalt restore 
 To their inheritance, then, nor till then. 
 Thou on the throne of David in full glory. 
 From Egypt to Euphrates, and beyond, 
 Shalt reign, and Rome or Caesar need not fear.' 
 
 To whom our Saviour answered thus, unmoved : 
 ' Much ostentation vain of fleshly arm 
 And fragile arms, much instrument of war, 
 Long in preparing, soon to nothing brought. 
 Before mine eyes thou hast set ; and in my ear 
 Vented much policy, and projects deep 
 Of enemies, of aids, battles and leagues. 
 Plausible to the world, to me worth nought. 
 
no 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Means I must use, thou sayest, prediction else 
 
 Will unpredict, and fail me of the throne : 
 
 My time, I told thee, (and that time for thee 
 
 Were better farthest off,) is not yet come : 
 
 When that comes, think not thou to 6nd me slack 
 
 On my part aught endeavouring, or to need 
 
 Thy politic maxims, or that cumbersome 
 
 Luggage of war there shown me, argument 
 
 Of human weakness rather than of strength. 
 
 My brethren, as thou callest them, those ten tribes, 
 
 I must deliver, if I mean to reign 
 
 David's true heir, and his full scepter sway 
 
 To just extent over all Israel's sons. 
 
 But whence to thee this zeal ? Where was it then 
 
 For Israel, or for David, or his throne, 
 
 When thou stoodest up his tempter to the pride 
 
 Of numbering Israel, which cost the lives 
 
 Of threescore and ten thousand Israelites 
 
 By three days' pestilence ? Such was thy zeal 
 
 To Israel then ; the same that now to me ! 
 
 As for those captive tribes, themselves were they 
 
 Who wrought their own captivity, fell off 
 
 From God to worship calves, the deities 
 
 Of Egypt, Baal next and Ashtaroth, 
 
 And all the idolatries of heathen round, 
 
 Besides their other worse than heathenish crimes; 
 Nor in the land of their captivity 
 Humbled themselves, or penitent besought 
 The God of their forefathers ; but so died 
 Impenitent, and left a race behind 
 Like to themselves, distinguishable scarce 
 From Gentiles, but by circumcision vain ; 
 And God with idols in their worship joined. 
 Should I of these the liberty regard, 
 Who, freed, as to their ancient patrimony, 
 Unhumbled, unrepentant, unreformed, 
 Headlong would follow ; and to their gods perhaps 
 Of Bethel and of Dan ? No; let them serve 
 Their enemies, who serve idols with God. 
 Yet he at length (time to himself best known) 
 Remembering Abraham, by some wondrous call 
 May bring them back repentant and sincere. 
 And at their passing cleave the Assyrian flood, 
 While to their native land with joy they haste; 
 As the Red sea and Jordan once he cleft, 
 When to the promised land their fathers passed : 
 To his due time and providence I leave them.' 
 So spake Israel's true King, and to the fiend 
 Made answer meet, that made void all his wiles. 
 So fares it, when with truth falsehood contends. 
 
 BOOK IV. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Satan, persisting in the temptation of our Lord, shows him imperial Rome in its greatest pomp and splendour, as a power which he 
 probably would prefer before that of the Parthians ; and tells him that he might with the greatest ease expel Tiberius, restore the 
 Romans to their liberty, and make himself master not only of the Roman empire, but, by so doing, of the whole world, and inclu- 
 sively of the throne of David. Our Lord, in reply, expresses his contempt of grandeur and worldly powfif, notices the luxury, 
 vanity, and profligacy of the Romans, declaring h6\vTTftle tliev merited to oe restored to that liberty which they had lost by their 
 misconduct, and orie'fly refers to the greatness of his own future kingdom. £at^n, now desperate, ,ta enhance the value '' ' 
 miofltred gifts, professes that the only terms on which he will bestow them, are our Saviour's falling down and worshipping 
 KirXionl «tpress€s a firm but temperate indignation at such a proposition, and rebukes the tempter by the title of " Satan t' . 
 ^OinexlX Satan, abashed, attempts to justify himself: hT~th«n annum r- a new ground of temptation, and proposing to Jesus uie 
 "ImeJlectual gratjAcations of wisdom and knowledire, points ©jjtlOLliim the celebrated seat of ancient learning, Ati^eas. its schools, 
 "and other various resorts of learned teachers and their diSCtples; accompanying tlie view with a highly finished panegyric on the 
 Grecian musicians, poets, orators, and philosophers of the dilTerent sects. Jisu« replies, bv showing the vanity and insufficiency of 
 thel)oasted heathen philosophy; and prefers to the music, poetry, eloquence, and didactic policy of the (jreeks, those of the in- 
 spired Hebr ew writgy y Satan , irritated atTtie failure of all his attempts, upbraids the indiscretion of our Saviour in rejecting his 
 oflers : Snd having, in ridicule of his expected kingdom, foretold the sufferings that our Lord was to undergo, carries him back into, 
 Uy wilriamfta^jnd^leaves him there. Night comes on : Satan ra ^«q trgm^n'^"'"' stocjiri, and attempts further to alarm Jesu.i 
 
 ^Ith friu^ ltfiyj tjreap is, and If rnfic t^ePt''tilPg SpoCllf* : »"■<•*' hnwpvpr hnvp nr\ flfffifi iij 
 miOi^f^rti ^n thf hnrrpr« ^^f tht. n ' ' " '   • "• '-' ^ ' — J 
 
 Tetling night as pointed chiefly i 
 
 tainlv to undergo. This only draws from our Lord a brief rebuke. Satan, now at the highth of his desperation, confesses that he 
 had frequently watched Jesus from his birth, purposely to discover if he was the true Messiah ; and, collecting from what passed at 
 the river Jordan that he most probably was so, he hadfrom that time more assiduously followed him, in hot)es of gaining some ad- 
 vantatre over him, which would most "efTectuallv prove that he was not really that Divine Person destined to be his ' fatal enemv." 
 In this he acknowledges that he has hitherto completely failed ; but still determines to make one more trial of him. Accordingly he 
 convey b< m 4a4hctemgj£ at Jerusalem, and, placincr him on a pointed eminence, requires him to prove ms divinity either bvstaijfl- 
 fTrgJaeie._orxaatinghiina£lfLd6wn wmLaafelx.. Our Lord reproves the tempter, and at the same time manifests his own otvlaujc- 
 standing optnis aaSgerou* ppm t- Satan , amazed and terrified, instantly falls; and repairs to his infernal mmpeers'lo relate 
 ' • i>6ceM oi nift entemriii«!.^ ny«>i« in t hp mean time convey our blessed Lord to a beauUM valley, and, while they ministsf 
 
 VhfWJl 8U6ce» or Ms enl 
 
 tp him a rppa«tnf <»>1fj|^jj^ 
 
 ^^ ^_^ . uponhim Axaijn..,t)right, Iwautit'ulmornjjjg 
 
 nijjTit" Satan again presents himself to our blessed Loro, and, from noticing the sforfn of the pre- 
 y af mm, takes occasion once more to insult him with an account of the suflerings which he was cer- 
 
 Pkrplexed and troubled at his bad success 
 The tempter stood, nor had what to reply, 
 Discovered in his fraud, thrown from his hope 
 So oft, and the persuasive rhetoric 
 That sleeked his tongue, and won so much on Eve, 
 
 So little here, nay lost ; but Eve was Eve : 
 This far his over-match, who, self-deceived 
 And rash, beforehand had no better weighed 
 The strength he was to cope with, or his own 
 But as a man, who had been matcliless held 
 
Book IV. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Ill 
 
 In cunning, over-reached where least he thought, 
 To salve his credit, and for every spite, 
 Still will be tempting him who foils him still. 
 And never cease, though to his shame the more ; 
 Or as a swarm of flies in vintage time, 
 About the wine-press where sweet must is poured, 
 Beat off, returns as oft with humming sound ; 
 Or surging waves against a solid rock, 
 Though all to shivers dashed, the assault renew, 
 (Vain battery !) and in froth or bubbles end ; 
 So Satan, whom repulse upon repulse 
 Met ever, and to shameful silence brought. 
 Yet gives not o'er, though desperate of success, 
 And his vain importunity pursues. 
 He brought our Saviour to the western side 
 Of that high mountain, whence he might behold 
 Another plain, long, but in breadth not wide, 
 Washed by the southern sea, and, on the north, 
 To equal length backed with a ridge of hills 
 That screened the fruits of the earth, and seats of men. 
 From cold septentrion blast ; thence in the midst 
 Divided by a river, of whose banks 
 On each side an imperial city stood, 
 With towers and temples proudly elevate 
 On seven small hills, with palaces adorned, 
 Porches, and theatres, baths, aqueducts. 
 Statues, and trophies, and triumphal arcs. 
 Gardens and groves, presented to his eyes, 
 Above the highth of mountains interposed 
 (By what strange parallax, or optic skill 
 Of vision, multiplied through air, or glass 
 Of telescope, were curious to inquire :) 
 And now the tempter thus his silence broke : 
 ' The city which thou seest no other deem 
 Than great and glorious Rome, queen of the earth. 
 So far renowned, and with the spoils enriched 
 Of nations ; there the capitol thou seest. 
 Above the rest lifting his stately head 
 On the Tarpeian rock, her citadel 
 Impregnable ; and there mount Palatine, 
 The imperial palace, compass huge, and high 
 The structure, skill of noblest architects. 
 With gilded battlements conspicuous far, 
 Turrets, and terraces, and glittering spires; 
 Many a fair edifice besides, more like 
 Houses of gods, so well I have disposed 
 My aery microscope, thou mayest behold, 
 Outside and inside both, pillars and roofs, 
 Carved work, the hand of famed artificers. 
 In cedar, marble, ivory, or gold. 
 Thence to the gates cast round thine eye, and s<ie 
 What conflux issuing forth, or entering in ; 
 Pnetors, proconsuls to their provinces 
 Hasting, or on return, in robes of state, 
 Lictors and rods, the ensigns of their power. 
 Legions and cohorts, turms of horse and wings 
 Or embassies from regions far remote, 
 In various habits, on the Appian road, 
 Or on the Emilian ; some from farthest south, 
 Syene, and where the shadow both way falls, 
 Meroe, Nilotic isle; and, more to west, 
 
 The realm of Boccbus to the Black-moor sea ; 
 
 From the Asian kings, and Parthian among these ; 
 
 From India and the Golden Chersonese, 
 
 And utmost Indian isle Taprobane, 
 
 Dusk faces with white silken turbans wreathed ; 
 
 From Gallia, Gades, and the British west ; 
 
 Germans, and Scythians, and Sarmatians, north 
 
 Beyond Danubius to the Tauric pool. 
 
 All nations now to Rome obedience pay ; 
 
 To Rome's great emperor, whose wide domain. 
 
 In ample territory, wealth, and power. 
 
 Civility of manners, arts and arms, 
 
 And long renown, thou justly mayest prefer 
 
 Before the Parthian. These two thrones except, 
 
 The rest are barbarous, and scarce worth the sight. 
 
 Shared among petty kings too far removed ; 
 
 These having shown thee, I have shown thee all 
 
 The kingdoms of the world, and all their glory. 
 
 The emperor hath no son, and now is old. 
 
 Old and lascivious, and from Rome retired 
 
 To Capreae, an island small, but strong, 
 
 On the Campanian shore, with purpose there 
 
 His horrid lusts in private to enjoy ; 
 
 Committing to a wicked favourite 
 
 All public cares, and 3'et of him suspicious. 
 
 Hated of all, and hating. With what ease, 
 
 Endued with regal virtues, as thou art, 
 
 Appearing, and beginning noble deeds, 
 
 Mightst thou expel this monster from his throne. 
 
 Now made a sty, and, in his place ascending, 
 
 A victor-people free from servile yoke ! 
 
 And with my help thou mayest; to me the power 
 
 Is given, and by that right I give it thee. 
 
 Aim therefore at no less than all the world ; 
 
 Aim at the highest : without the highest attained, 
 
 Will be for thee no sitting, or not long, 
 
 On David's throne, be prophesied what will.' 
 
 To whom the Son of God, unmoved, replied: 
 ' Nor doth this grandeur and majestic show 
 Of luxury, though called magnificence. 
 More than of arms before, allure mine eye, 
 Much less my mind ; though thou shouldst add to tell 
 Their sumptuous gluttonies, and gorgeous feasts 
 On citron tables or Atlantic stone, 
 (For I have also heard, perhaps have read,) 
 Their wines of Setia, Cales, and Falerne, 
 Chios and Crete, and how they quaff in gold, 
 Crystal, and niyrrhine cups, embossed with gems 
 And studs of pearl ; to me shouldst tell, who thirst 
 And hunger still. Then embassies thou showest 
 From nations far and nigh : what honour that, 
 But tedious waste of time, to sit and hear 
 So many hollow compliments and lies. 
 Outlandish flatteries.'' Then proceedest to talk 
 Of the emperor, how easily subdued. 
 How gloriously : I shall, thou sayest, expel 
 A brutal monster ; what if I withal 
 Expel a devil who first made him such ? 
 Let his tormentor conscience find him out : 
 For him I was not sent; nor yet to free 
 That people, victor once, now vile and base; 
 
113 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Deservedly made vassal ; who, once just. 
 Frugal, and mild, and temperate, conquered well, 
 But govern ill the nations under yoke. 
 Pilling their provinces, exhausted all 
 By lust and rapine : first ambitious grown 
 Of triumph, that insulting vanity; 
 Then cruel, by their sports to blood inured 
 Of fighting beasts, and men to beasts exposed; 
 Luxurious by their wealth, and greedier still, 
 And from the daily scene effeminate. 
 What wise and valiant man would seek to free 
 These, thus degenerate, by themselves enslaved ; 
 Or could of inward slaves make outward free P 
 Know therefore, when my season comes to sit 
 On David's throne, it shall be like a tree 
 Spreading and overshadowing all the earth ; 
 Or as a stone, that shall to pieces dash 
 All monarchies besides throughout the world ; 
 And of my kingdom there shall be no end : 
 Means there shall be to this ; but what the means, 
 Is not for thee to know, nor me to tell.' 
 To whom the tempter, impudent, replied : 
 
 * I see all offers made by me how slight 
 Thou vainest, because offered, and rejectest; 
 Nothing will please thee, difficult and nice, 
 Or nothing more than still to contradict : 
 On the other side know also thou, that I 
 On what I offer set as high esteem. 
 
 Nor what I part with mean to give for nought ; 
 All these, which in a moment thou beholdest, 
 The kingdoms of the world, to thee I give, 
 (For given to me, I give to whom I please,) 
 No trifle ; yet with this reserve, not else. 
 On this condition ; if thou wilt fall down, 
 And worship me as tiiy superior lord, 
 (Easily done,) and bold them all of me; 
 For what can less so great a gift deserve ?' 
 
 Whom thus our Saviour answered with disdain : 
 
 * I never liked thy talk, thy offers less; 
 
 Now both abhor, since thou hast dared to utter 
 
 The abominable terms, impious condition ; 
 
 But I endure the time, till which expired 
 
 Thou hast permission on me. It is written. 
 
 The first of all commandments. Thou shalt worship 
 
 The Lord thy God, and only him shalt serve ; 
 
 And darest thou to the Son of God propound 
 
 To worship thee accursed ? now more accursed 
 
 For this attempt, bolder than that on Eve, 
 
 And more blasphemous ; which expect to rue. 
 
 The kingdoms of the world to thee were given ? 
 
 Permitted rather, and by thee usurped ; 
 
 Other donation none thou canst produce. 
 
 If given, by whom but by the King of kings, 
 
 God over all supreme .'' If given to thee, 
 
 By thee how fairly is the giver now 
 
 Repaid ! But gratitude in thee is lost 
 
 Ijong since. Wert thou so void of fear or shame. 
 
 As offer them to me the Son of God .'' 
 
 To me my own, on such abhorred pact. 
 
 That I fall down and worship thee as God ? 
 
 Get thee behind me ; plain thou now appearest 
 
 That evil one, Satan for ever damned.' 
 
 To whom the fiend, with fear abashed, replied : 
 * Be not so sore offended, Son of God, 
 Though sons of God both angels are and men, 
 If I, to try whether in higher sort 
 Than these thou bearest that title, have proposed 
 What both from men and angels I receive, 
 Tetrarchs of fire, air, flood, and on the earth, 
 Nations beside from all the quartered winds, 
 God of this world invoked, and world beneath : 
 Who then thou art, whose coming is foretold 
 To me most fatal, me it most concerns ; 
 The trial hath indamaged thee no way, 
 Rather more honour left and more esteem.; 
 Me nought advantaged, missing what I aimed. 
 Therefore let pass, as they are transitory, 
 The kingdoms of this world ; I shall no more 
 Advise thee ; gain them as thou canst, or not. 
 And thou thyself seemest otherwise inclined 
 Than to a worldly crown ; addicted more 
 To contemplation and profound dispute, 
 As by that early action may be judged, 
 When, slipping from thy mother's eye, thou wentest 
 Alone into the temple, there wast found 
 Amontf the gravest rabbies, disputant 
 On points and questions fitting Moses' chair. 
 Teaching, not taught. The childhood shows the man, 
 As morning shows the day : be famous then 
 By wisdom; as thy empire must extend. 
 So let extend thj' mind o'er all the world 
 In knowledge, all tilings in it comprehend. 
 All knowledge is not couched in Moses' law. 
 The Pentateuch, or what the prr)phets wrote ; 
 The Gentiles also know, and write, and teach 
 To adn)iration, led by nature's light. 
 And with the Gentiles much thou must converse, 
 Ruling them by persuasion, as thou meanest; 
 Without their learning, how wilt thou with them, 
 Or they with thee, hold conversation meet ? 
 How wilt thou reason with them, how refute 
 Their idolisms, traditions, paradoxes ? 
 Error by his own arms is best evinced. 
 Look once more, ere we leave this specular mount, 
 Westward, much nearer by south-west behold ; 
 Where on the iEgean shore a city stands. 
 Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil ; 
 Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts 
 And eloquence, native to famous wits 
 Or hospitable, in her sweet recess. 
 City or suburban, studious walks and shades. 
 See there the olive grove of Academe, 
 Plato's retirement, where the Attic bird 
 Trills her thick-warbled notes the summer long; 
 There flowery hill Hymettus, with the sound 
 Of bees' industrious murmur, oft invites 
 To studious musing; there Ilissus rolls 
 His whispering stream : within the walls then view 
 The schools of ancient sages ; his who bred 
 Great Alexander to subdue the world, 
 Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next : 
 There shalt thou bear and learn the secret power 
 
Book IV. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 113 
 
 Of harmony, in tones and numbers hit 
 
 By voice or hand ; and various-measured verse, 
 
 ^olian charms and Dorian lyric odes, 
 
 And his who gave them breath, but higher sung, 
 
 Blind Melesigcncs, thence Homer called. 
 
 Whose poem Phccbus challenged for his own : 
 
 Thence what the lofty grave tragedians taught 
 
 In chorus or iambic, teachers best 
 
 Of moral prudence, with delight received 
 
 In brief sententious precepts, while they treat 
 
 Of fate, and chance, and change in human life, 
 
 High actions, and high passions best describing : 
 
 Thence to the famous orators repair, 
 
 Those ancient, whose resistless eloquence 
 
 Wielded at will that fierce democratic. 
 
 Shook the arsenal, and fulmined over Greece 
 
 To Maccdon and Artaxerxes' throne : 
 
 To sage philosophy next lend thine ear, 
 
 From heaven descended to the low-roofed house 
 
 Of Socrates; see there his tenement. 
 
 Whom well inspired the oracle pronounced 
 
 Wisest of men ; from whose mouth issued forth 
 
 Mellifluous streams, that watered all the schools 
 
 Of Academics old and new, with those 
 
 Surnamed Peripatetics, and the sect 
 
 Epicurean, and the Stoic severe ; 
 
 These here revolve, or, as thou likest, at home, 
 
 Till time mature thee to a kingdom's weight ; 
 
 These rules will render thee a king complete 
 
 Within thyself, much more with empire joined.' 
 
 To whom our Saviour sagely thus replied : 
 * Think not but that I know these things ; or think 
 I know them not, not therefore am I short 
 Of knowing what I ought: he, who receives 
 light from above, from the fountain of light, 
 No other doctrine needs, though granted true ; 
 But these are false, or little else hut dreams, 
 Conjectures, fancies, built on nothing firm. 
 The first and wisest of them all professed 
 To know this only, that he nothing knew; 
 The next to fabling fell, and smooth conceits ; 
 A third sort doubted all things, though plain sense; 
 Others in virtue placed felicity. 
 But virtue joined with riches and long life; 
 In corporal pleasure he, and careless ease ; 
 The Stoic last, in philosophic pride. 
 By him called virtue ; and his virtuous man, 
 Wise, perfect in himself, and all possessing 
 Equal to God, oft shames not to prefer. 
 As fearing God nor man, contemning all 
 Wealth, pleasure, pain or torment, death and life, 
 Which, when he lists, he leaves, or boasts he can ; 
 For all his tedious talk is but vain boast. 
 Or subtle shifts conviction to evade. 
 Alas ! what can they teach and not mislead. 
 Ignorant of themselves, of God much more. 
 And how the world began, and how man fell 
 Degraded by himself, on grace depending ? 
 Much of the soul they talk, but all awry. 
 And in themselves seek virtue ; and to themselves 
 All glory an-ogate, to God give none ; 
 * I 
 
 Ratber accuse him under usual names, 
 
 Fortune and fate, as one regardless quite 
 
 Of mortal things. Who therefore seeks in these 
 
 True wisdom, finds her not ; or by delusion. 
 
 Far worse, her false resemblance only meets. 
 
 An empty cloud. However, many books, 
 
 Wise men have said, are wearisome ; who reads 
 
 Incessantly, and to his reading brings not 
 
 A spirit and judgment equal or superior, 
 
 (And what he brings, what needs he elsewhere seek i*) 
 
 Uncertain and unsettled still remains. 
 
 Deep-versed in books, and shallow in himself. 
 
 Crude or intoxicate, collecting toys 
 
 And trifles for choice matters, worth a sponge ; 
 
 As children gathering pebbles on the shore. 
 
 Or, if I would delight my private hours 
 
 With music or with poem, where so soon 
 
 As in our native language, can I find 
 
 That solace ••* All our law and story strewed 
 
 With hymns, our psalms with artful terms inscribed, 
 
 Our Hebrew songs and harps, in Babylon 
 
 That pleased so well our victor's ear, declare 
 
 That rather Greece from us these arts derived ; 
 
 111 imitated, while they loudest sing 
 
 The vices of their deities, and their own. 
 
 In fable, hymn, or song, so personating 
 
 Their gods ridiculous, and themselves past shame. 
 
 Remove their swelling epithets, thick laid 
 
 As varnish on a harlot's cheek, the rest. 
 
 Thin sown with aught of profit or delight. 
 
 Will far be found unworthy to compare 
 
 With Sion's songs, to all true tastes excelling. 
 
 Where God is praised aright, and god-like men. 
 
 The holiest of holies, and his saints, 
 
 (Such are from God inspired, not such from thee,) 
 
 Unless where moral virtue is expressed 
 
 By light of nature, not in all quite lost. 
 
 Their orators thou then extoUest, as those 
 
 The top of eloquence ; statists indeed. 
 
 And lovers of their country, as may seem ; 
 
 But herein to our prophets far beneath. 
 
 As men divinely taught, and better teaching 
 
 The solid rules of civil government. 
 
 In their majestic unaflfected style. 
 
 Than all the oratory of Greece and Rome. 
 
 In them is plainest taught, and easiest learnt, 
 
 What makes a nation happy, and keeps it so. 
 
 What ruins kingdoms, and lays cities flat ; 
 
 These only with our law best form a king.' 
 
 So spake the Son of God ; but Satan, now 
 Quite at a loss, (for all his darts were spent,) 
 Thus to our Saviour with stern brow replied : 
 
 ' Since neither wealth nor honour, arms nor arts, 
 Kingdom nor empire pleases thee, nor aught 
 By me proposed in life contemplative 
 Or active, tended on by glory or fame. 
 What dost thou in this world .' The wilderness 
 For thee is fittest place ; I found thee there, 
 And thither will return thee ; yet remember 
 What I foretell thee, soon thou shalt have cause 
 To wish thou never hadst rejected, thus 
 
114 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Nicely or cautiously, my offered aid, 
 
 Which would have set thee in short time with ease 
 
 On David's throne, or throne of all the world, 
 
 Now at full acre, fulness of time, thy season 
 
 Wlien prophecies of thee are best fulfilled. 
 
 Now contrary, if I read augfht in heayen, 
 
 Or heaven write aught of fate, by what the stars 
 
 Voluminous, or sinj^le characters, 
 
 In their conjunction met, give me to spell, 
 
 Sorrows and labours, opposition, hate 
 
 Attend thee, sconis, reproaches, injuries. 
 
 Violence and stripes, and lastly cruel death ; 
 
 A kingdom they portend thee, but what kingdom, 
 
 Real or allegoric, I discern not ; 
 
 Nor when ; eternal sure, as without end, 
 
 Without beginning; for no date prefixed 
 
 Directs mc in the starry rubric set.' 
 
 So saying, he took, (for still he knew his power 
 Not yet expired,) and to the wilderness 
 Brought back the Son of God, and left him there, 
 Feigning to disappear. Darkness now rose. 
 As day-light sunk, and brought in louring night. 
 Her shadowy oflfspring, unsubstantial both. 
 Privation mere of light, and absent day. 
 Our Saviour meek, and with untroubled mind 
 After his aery jaunt, though hurried sore, 
 Hungry and cold, betook him to his rest. 
 Wherever, under some concourse of shades, 
 Whose branching arms thick intertwined might 
 
 shield 
 Froni dews and damps of night his sheltered bead ; 
 But, sheltered, slept in vain ; for at his head 
 The tempter watched, and soon with ugly dreams 
 Disturbed his sleep. And either tropic now 
 'Gan thunder, and both ends of heaven; the clouds, 
 From many a horrid rift, abortive poured 
 Fierce rain with lightning mixed, water with fire 
 In ruin reconciled : nor slept the winds 
 Within their stony caves, but rushed abroad 
 From the four hinges of the world, and fell 
 On the vexed wilderness, whose tallest pines, 
 Though rooted deep as high, and sturdiest oaks, 
 Bowed their stiff necks, loaden with stormy blasts 
 Or toni up sheer. Ill wast thou shrouded then, 
 O patient Son of God, yet only stoodest 
 Unshaken ! Nor yet staid the terror there ; 
 Infernal ghosts and hellish furies round 
 Environed thee, some howled, some jelled, some 
 
 shrieked. 
 Some bent at thee their fiery darts, while thou 
 Satest unappalled in calm and sinless peace ! 
 Thus passed the night so foul, till morning fair 
 Came forth with pilgrim steps, in amice gray; 
 Who with her radiant finger stilled the roar 
 Of thunder, chased the clouds, and laid the winds, 
 And grisly spectres, which the fiend had raised 
 To tempt the Son of God with terrors dire. 
 And now the sun with more effectual beams 
 Had cheered the face of earth, and dried the wet 
 From drooping plant, or dropping tree; the birds. 
 Who all things now behold more fresh and green. 
 
 After a night of storms so ruinous. 
 
 Cleared up their choicest notes in bush and spray, 
 
 To gratulate the sweet return of morn. 
 
 Nor yet, amidst this joy and brightest morn, 
 
 Was absent, after all his mischief done, 
 
 The prince of darkness: glad would also seem 
 
 Of this fair change, and to our Saviour came; 
 
 Yet with no new device, (they all were spent,) 
 
 Rather by this his last affront resolved. 
 
 Desperate of better course, to vent his rage 
 
 And mad despite to be so oft repelled. 
 
 Him walking on a sunny hill he found. 
 
 Backed on the north and west by a thick wood : 
 
 Out of the wood he starts in wonted shape, 
 
 And in a careless mood thus to him said : 
 
 ' Fair morning yet betides tliee, Son of God, 
 After a dismal night: I heard the wrack, 
 As earth and sky would mingle; but myself 
 Was distant ; and these flaws, though mortals fear them 
 As dangerous to the pillared frame of heaven, 
 Or to the earth's dark basis underneath. 
 Are to the main as inconsiderable 
 And harmless, if not wholesome, as a sneeze 
 To man's less universe, and soon are gone ; 
 Yet, as being oft-times noxious where they light 
 On man, beast, plant, wasteful and turbulent, 
 Like turbulencies in the affairs of men. 
 Over whose heads tliey roar, and seem to point, 
 They oft fore-signify and threaten ill : 
 This tempest at this desert most was bent ; 
 Of men at thee, for only thou here dwellest. 
 Did I not tell thee, if thou didst reject 
 The perfect season offered with my aid 
 To win thy destined seat, but wilt prolong 
 All to the push of fate, pursue thy way 
 Of gaining David's throne, no man knows when, 
 For both the when and how is no where told ? 
 Thou shalt be what thou art ordained, no doubt ; 
 For angels have proclaimed it, but concealing 
 The time and means. Each act is rightliest done 
 Not when it must, but when it may be best ; 
 If thou observe not this, be sure to find. 
 What I foretold thee, many a hard assay 
 Of dangers, and adversities, and pains, 
 Ere thou of Israel's scepter get fast hold ; 
 Whereof this ominous night, that closed thee round. 
 So many terrors, voices, prodigies. 
 May warn thee, as a sure foregoing sign.' 
 
 So talked he, while the Son of God went on 
 And staid not, but in brief him answered thus: 
 
 ' Me worse than wet thou findest not ; other barm 
 Those terrors, which thou speakest of, did me none; 
 I never feared they could, though noising loud 
 And threatening nigh : what they can do as signs 
 Betokening, or ill-boding, I contemn 
 As false portents, not sent from God, but thee ; 
 Who, knowing I shall reign past thy preventing, 
 Obtrudest thy offered aid, that I, accepting. 
 At least might .seem to hold all power of thee. 
 Ambitious spirit ! and wouldst be thought my god ; 
 And stormest refused, thinking to terrify 
 
Book IV. 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 115 
 
 Me to thy will ! Desist, (thou art discerned, 
 And toilest in vain,) nor me in vain molest.' 
 
 To whom the fiend, now swoln with rage, replied : 
 ' Then hear, O son of David, virgin-born, 
 For Son of God to me is yet in doubt; 
 Of the Messiah I had heard foretold 
 By all tlie prophets; of thy birth at length, 
 Announced by Gabriel, with the first I knew, 
 And of the angelic song in Bethlehem field. 
 On thy birth-night that sung thee Saviour-born. 
 From that time seldom have I ceased to eye 
 Thy infancy, thy childhood, and thy youth, 
 Thy manhood last, though yet in private bred ; 
 Till at the ford of Jordan, whither all 
 Flock to the Baptist, I, among the rest, 
 (Though not to be baptized,) by voice from heaven 
 Heard thee pronounced the Son of God beloved. 
 Thenceforth I thought thee worth my nearer view 
 And narrower scrutiny, that I might learn 
 In what degree or meaning thou art called 
 The Son of God, which bears no single sense. 
 The son of God I also am, or was ; 
 And if I was, I am ; relation stands ; 
 All men are sons of God ; yet thee I thought 
 In some respect far higher so declared : 
 Therefore I watched thy footsteps from that hour, 
 And followed thee still on to this waste wild ; 
 Where, by all best conjectures, I collect 
 Thou art to be my fatal enemy : 
 Good reason then, if I beforehand seek 
 To understand my adversary, who 
 And what he is ; his wisdom, power, intent : 
 By parle or composition, truce or league, 
 To win him, or win from him what I can: 
 And opportunity' I here have had 
 To try thee, sift thee, and confess have found thee 
 Proof against all temptation, as a rock 
 Of adamant, and, as a center, firm ; 
 To the utmost of mere man both wise and good, 
 Not more ; for honours, riches, kingdoms, glory, 
 Have been before contemned, and may again. 
 Therefore to know what more thou art than man. 
 Worth naming Son of God by voice from heaven, 
 Another method I must now begin.' 
 
 So saying, he caught him up, and, without wing 
 Of hippogrif, bore through the air sublime, 
 Over the wilderness and o'er the plain, 
 Till underneath them fair Jerusalem, 
 The holy city, lifted high her towers. 
 And higher yet the glorious temple reared 
 Her pile, far off appearing like a mount 
 Of alabaster, topt with golden spires : 
 There, on the highest pinnacle, he set 
 The Son of God ; and added thus in scorn : 
 
 ' There stand, if thou wilt stand ; to stand upright 
 Will ask thee skill ; I to thy Father's house 
 Have brought thee, and highest placed : highest is best : 
 Now show thy progeny; if not to stand. 
 Cast thyself down ; safely, if Son of God : 
 For it is written. He will give command 
 ( Concerning thee to his angels ; in their hands 
 ' I 2 
 
 They shall uplift thee, lest at any time 
 
 Thou chance to dash thy foot against a stone.' 
 
 To whom thus Jesus : ' Also it is written, 
 Tempt not the Lord thy God.' He said, and stood : 
 But iSatan, smitten with amazement, fell. 
 As when earth's son, Antceus, (to compare 
 Small things with greatest,) in Irassa strove 
 With Jove's Alcides, and, oft foiled, still rose. 
 Receiving from his mother Earth new strength. 
 Fresh from his fall, and fiercer grapple joined. 
 Throttled at length in the air, expired and fell ; 
 So, after many a foil, the tempter proud. 
 Renewing fresh assaults, amidst his pride. 
 Fell whence he stood to see his victor fall : 
 And as that Theban monster, that proposed 
 Her riddle, and him who solved it not devoured. 
 That once found out and solved, for grief and spite 
 Cast herself headlong from the Ismenian steep ; 
 So, struck with dread and anguish, fell the fiend. 
 And to his crew, that sat consulting, brought 
 (Joyless triumphals of his hoped success) 
 Ruin, and desperation, and dismay. 
 Who durst so proudly tempt the Son of God. 
 So Satan fell ; and straight a fiery globe 
 Of angels on full sail of wing flew nigh. 
 Who on their plumy vans received him soft 
 From his uneasy station, and upbore. 
 As on a floating couch, through the blithe air; 
 Then, in a flowery valley, set him down 
 On a green bank, and set before him spread 
 A table of celestial food, divine 
 Ambrosial fruits, fetched from the tree of life. 
 And, from the fount of life, ambrosial drink. 
 That soon refreshed him wearied, and repaired 
 What hunger, if aught hunger, had impaired. 
 Or thirst ; and, as he fed, angelic quires 
 Sung heavenly anthems of his victory 
 Over temptation and the tempter proud : 
 
 ' True image of the Father; whether throned 
 In the bosom of bliss, and light of light 
 Conceiving, or, remote from heaven, enshrined 
 In fleshly tabernacle, and human form. 
 Wandering the wilderness; whatever place. 
 Habit, or state, or motion, still expressing 
 The Son of God, with godlike force endued 
 Against the attempter of thy Father's throne. 
 And thief of Paradise ! Him long of old 
 Thou didst debel, and down from heaven cast 
 With all his army ; now thou hast avenged 
 Supplanted Adam, and, by vanquishing 
 Temptation, bast regained lost Paradise, 
 And frustrated the conquest fraudulent. 
 He never more henceforth will dare set foot 
 In Paradise to tempt; his snares are broke : 
 For, though that seat of earthly bliss be failed, 
 A fairer Paradise is founded now 
 For Adam and his chosen sons, whom thou, 
 A Saviour, art come down to reinstall. 
 Where they shall dwell secure, when time shall be, 
 Of tempter and temptation without fear. 
 But thou, infernal serpont ' shalt not long 
 
116 
 
 PARADISE REGAINED. 
 
 Book IV. 
 
 Rule ; in the cloud, like an autumnal star 
 
 Or lightning, thou shalt fall from heaven, trod do^vn 
 
 Under his feet ; for proof, ere this thou feelest 
 
 Thy wound, (yet not thy last and deadliest wound,) 
 
 By this repulse received, and holdest in hell 
 
 No triumph : in all her gates Abaddon rues 
 
 Thy bold attempt. Hereafter learn with awe 
 
 To dread the Son of God : be, all unarmed, 
 
 Shall chase thee, with the terror of his voice, 
 
 From thy demoniac holds, possession foul. 
 
 Thee and tby legions : yelling they shall fly, 
 
 And beg to hide them in a herd of swine. 
 Lest he command them down into the deep. 
 Bound, and to torment sent before their time. 
 Hail, Son of the Most High, heir of both worlds, 
 Queller of Satan ! on thy glorious work 
 Now enter; and begin to save mankind.' 
 
 Thus they the Son of God, our Saviour meek. 
 Sung victor, and, from heavenly feast refreshed, 
 Brought on his way with joy; he, unobserved. 
 Home to his mother's house private returned • 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 A DRAMATIC POEM. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Samson, made captive, blind, and now in the prison at Gaza, tliere to labour as in a common workhouse, on a festival day, in a 
 general cessation from labour, comes forth into the open air, to a place nigh, somewhat retired, there to sit a while and bemoan 
 his condition : where he happens at length to be visited by certain friends and equals of his tribe, which makes the Chorus, who 
 seek to comfort him what tliey can ; then by his old father Manoah, who endeavours the like, and withal tells him his purpose to 
 procure his liberty by ransom ; lastly, that "this feast was proclaimed by the PhtUstines as a day of thanksfrivins? for their deliver- 
 ance from the hands ofSamson. which yet more troubles him. Manoah then departs to prosecute his endeavour with the Philis- 
 tine lords for Samson's redemption ; who in the mean while is visited by other persons ; and lastly by a public offlcer to require his 
 cominsr to the feast before the lords and people, to play orshow his strength in their presence: he "at nrst refuses, dismissing the 
 public officer with absolute denial to come ; at length, persuaded inwardly that this was from God, he yields to go along with him, 
 who came now the second time with great threatenings to fetch him : the Chorus yet remaining on the" place, Manoah returns full 
 of joyful hope, to procure ere long his son's deliverance : in the midst of which discourse an Hebrew comes in haste, confusedly at 
 first, and afterward more distinctly, relating the catastrophe, what Samson had done to the Philistines, and by. accident to himself; 
 wherewith the tragedy ends. 
 
 THE PERSONS. 
 
 Samson. 
 
 Manoah, the father of Samson. 
 
 Dalila, his wife. 
 
 Harapha of Gatb. 
 
 Public Officer. 
 Messenger. 
 Chorus of Danites. 
 
 The scene, before the Prison in Gaza. 
 
 Samson. Attendant leading him. 
 
 A LITTLE onward lend thy guiding hand 
 
 To these dark steps, a little further on ; 
 
 For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade; 
 
 There I am wont to sit, when any chance 
 
 Relieves me from my task of servile toil. 
 
 Daily in the common prison else enjoined me, 
 
 Where I, a prisoner chained, scarce freely draw 
 
 The air imprisoned also, close and damp. 
 
 Unwholesome draught: but here I feel amends, 
 
 The breath of heaven fresh blowing, pure and sweet. 
 
 With day-spring born ; here leave me to respire. 
 
 This day a solemn feast the people hold 
 
 To Dagon their sea-idol, and forbid 
 
 Laborious works ; unwillingly this rest 
 
 Their superstition yields me; hence with leave 
 
 Retiring from the popular noise, I seek 
 
 This unfrequented place to find some ease. 
 
 Ease to the body some, none to the mind 
 
 From restless thoughts, that, like a deadly swarm 
 
 y/Of hornets armed, no sooner found alone, 
 Y /[ But rush upon me thronging, and present 
 
 ' Times past, what once I was, and what am now. 
 
 \p, wherefore was my birth from heaven foretold 
 Twice by an angel, who at last in sight 
 Of both my parents all in flames ascended 
 From off the altar, where an offering burned, 
 As in a fiery column charioting 
 His god-like presence, and from some great act 
 Or benefit revealed to Abraham's race ? 
 Why was my breeding ordered and prescribed 
 As of a person separate to God, 
 Designed for great exploits ; if I must die 
 Betrayed, captived, and both my eyes put out, 
 Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze ; 
 To grind in brazen fetters under task 
 With this heaven-gifted strength ? O glorious strength. 
 Put to the labour of a beast, debased 
 Lower than bond-slave ! Promise was, that I 
 Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver; 
 Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him 
 
118 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Eyeless in Gaza at tbe mill with slaves, 
 Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke. 
 Vet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt 
 Divine prediction; what if all foretold 
 Had been fulfilled but throug'h mine own default? 
 Whom hare I to complain of but myself? 
 Who this high gift of strength committed to me, 
 f-' In what part lodged, how easily bereft me, 
 Under tbe seal of silence could not keep, 
 But weakly to a woman must reveal it, 
 O'ercorae with importunity and tears. 
 O impotence of mind, in body strong ! 
 But what is strength without a double share 
 Otfjw«jU).m ? va.st, unwieldy, burdensome. 
 Proudly secure, yet liable to fall 
 By weakest subtleties, not made to rule. 
 But to subserve where wisdom bears command. 
 God, when he gave me strength, to show withal 
 How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair. 
 But peace ! I must not quarrel with the will 
 Of highest dispensation, which herein 
 Haply had ends above my reach to know : 
 Suffices that to me strength is my bane, 
 And proves the source of all my miseries ; 
 So many, and so huge, that each apart 
 Would ask a life to wail; but chief of all, 
 O loss of sight, of thee I most complain ! 
 
 \ Blind among enemies, O worse than chains. 
 Dungeon, or beggary, or decrepit age ! 
 Light, the prime work of God, to me is extinct, 
 And all her various objects of delight 
 Annulled, which might in part my grief have eased, 
 Inferior to the vilest now become 
 Of man or worm ; the vilest here excel me : 
 They creep, yet see; I, dark in light, exposed 
 To daily fraud, contempt, abuse, and wrong, 
 Within doors, or without, still as a fool. 
 In power of others, never in my own ; 
 
 "* Scarce half I seem to live, dead more than half 
 O dark, dark, dark, amid the blaze of noon, 
 Irrecoverably dark, total eclipse 
 Without all hope of day ! 
 O first-created beam, and thou great Word, 
 
 [ * Let there be light, and light was over all ;' 
 
 \ ^Vhy am I thus bereaved thy prime decree? 
 The sun to me is dark 
 And silent as the moon. 
 When she deserts the night. 
 Hid in her vacant interlunar cave. 
 Since light so necessary is to life. 
 And almost life itself, if it be true 
 That light is in the soul. 
 She all in every part ; why was this sight 
 To such a tender ball as the eye confined, 
 So obvious and so easy to be quenched ? 
 And not, as feeling, through all parts diffused. 
 That she might look at will through every pore ? 
 Then had I not been thus exiled from light. 
 As in the land of darkness, yet in light. 
 To live a life half dead, a living death. 
 And buried ; but, O yet more miserable ! 
 
 Myself my sepulchre, a moving grave : 
 
 Buried, yet not exempt. 
 
 By privilege of death and burial, 
 
 PVom worst of other evils, pains, and wrongs: 
 
 But made hereby obnoxious more 
 
 To all the miseries of life, 
 
 Life in captivity 
 
 Among inhuman foes. 
 
 But who are these ? for with joint pace I hear 
 
 The tread of many feet steering this way ; 
 
 Perhaps my enemies, who come to stare 
 
 At my affliction, and perhaps to insult, 
 
 Their daily practice to afflict me more. 
 
 Enter Chorus. 
 
 Chor. This, this is he ; softly a while. 
 Let us not break in upon him : 
 O change beyond report, thought, or belief! 
 See how he lies at random, carelessly diffused. 
 With languished head unpropt. 
 As one past hope abandoned. 
 And by himself given over ; -^ 
 
 In slavish habit, ill-fitted weeds 
 O'erworn and soiled ; 
 
 Or do my eyes misrepresent ? Can this be he. 
 That heroic, that renowned. 
 Irresistible Samson ? whom unarmed 
 No strength of man, or fiercest wild beast, could with- 
 stand ; 
 ■Who tore the lion, as the lion tears the kid ; 
 Ran on embattled armies clad in iron ; 
 And, weaponless himself, 
 Made arms ridiculous, useless the forgery 
 Of brazen shield and spear, the hammered cuirass, 
 Chalibean-tempered steel, and frock of mail 
 Adamantean proof? 
 But safest he who stood aloof. 
 When insupportably his foot advanced. 
 In scorn of their proud arms and warlike tools. 
 Spumed them to death by troops. The bold Ascalonite 
 Fled from his lion ramp ; old warriors turned 
 Their plated backs under his heel ; 
 Or, grovelling, soiled their crested helmets in the dust. 
 Then with what trivial weapon came to hand. 
 The jaw of a dead ass, his sword of bone, 
 A thousand fore-skins fell, the flower of Palestine, 
 In Ramath-lechi, famous to this day. 
 Then by main force pulled up, and on his shoulders 
 
 bore 
 The gates of Azza, post, and massy bar. 
 Up to tbe hill by Hebron, seat of giants old. 
 No journey of a sabbath-day ; and loaded so. 
 Like whom the Gentiles feign to bear up heaven. 
 Which shall I first bewail. 
 Thy bondage or lost sight. 
 Prison within prison 
 Inseparably dark ? 
 
 Thou art become (O worst imprisonment!) 
 The dungeon of thyself ; thy soul 
 (Which men enjoying sight oft without cause com- 
 plain) 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 119 
 
 Imprisoned now indeed, 
 
 In real darkness of the body dwells, 
 
 Shut up from outward light 
 
 To incorporate with gloomy night ; 
 
 For inward light, alas! 
 
 Puts forth no visual beam. 
 
 mirror of our fickle state, 
 Since man on earth unparalleled ! 
 The rarer thy example stands. 
 
 By how much from the top of wondrous glory, 
 
 Strongest of mortal men. 
 
 To lowest pitch of abject fortune thou art fallen. 
 
 For him I reckon not in high estate 
 
 Whom long descent of birth. 
 
 Or the sphere of fortune, raises; 
 
 But thee whose strength, while virtue was her mate. 
 
 Might have subdued the earth, 
 
 Universally crowned with highest praises. 
 
 Sams. I bear the sound of words ; their sense the 
 air 
 Dissolves unjointed ere it reach my ear. 
 
 Chor. He speaks, let us draw nigh. Matchless in 
 might. 
 The glory late of Israel, now the grief; 
 We come, thy friends and neighbours not unknown, 
 From Eshtaol an'd Zora's fruitful vale, 
 To visit or bewail thee ; or, if better, 
 Counsel or consolation we may bring. 
 Salve to thy sores ; apt words have power to swage 
 The tumours of a troubled mind. 
 And are as balm to festered wounds. 
 
 Sams. Your coming, friends, revives me ; for I learn 
 Now of my own experience, not by talk. 
 How counterfeit a coin they are who friends ' ^ ! 
 Bear in their superscription ; (of the most * 
 
 1 would be understood ;) in prosperous days 
 They swarm, but in adverse withdraw their head. 
 Not to be found, though sought. Yet see, friends, 
 How many evils have enclosed me round ; 
 
 Yet that which was the worst now least afflicts me, 
 Blindness ; for had I sight, confused with shame. 
 How could I once look up or heave the head, 
 Who, like a foolish pilot, have shipwrecked 
 My vessel trusted to me from above. 
 Gloriously rigged ; and for a word, a tear, 
 Fool ! have divulged the secret gift of God 
 To a deceitful woman .'' Tell me, friends. 
 Am I not sung and proverbed for a fool 
 In every street ? do they not say. How well 
 Are come upon him his deserts .'* Yet why.'' 
 Immeasurable strength they might behold 
 In me, of wisdom nothing more than mean ; 
 This with the other should at least have paired ; 
 These two, proportioned ill, drove me transverse. 
 
 Chor. Tax not divine disposal ; wisest men 
 Have erred, and by bad women been deceived ; 
 And shall again, pretend they ne'er so wise. 
 Deject not then so overmuch thyself. 
 Who hast of sorrow thy full load besides : 
 Yet, truth to say, I oft have heard men wonder 
 Why thou shouldst wed Philistian women rather 
 
 Than of thine own tribe fairer, or as fair. 
 At least of thy own nation, and as noble. 
 
 Sams. The first I saw at Timna, and she pleased 
 Me, not my parents, that I sought to wed 
 The daughter of an infidel : they knew not 
 That what I motioned was of God ; I knew 
 From intimate impulse, and therefore urged 
 The marriage on ; that by occasion hence 
 I might begin Israel's deliverance. 
 The work to which I was divinely called. 
 She proving false, the next I took to wife 
 (O that I never had ! fond wish too late) 
 Was in the vale of Sorec, Dalila, 
 That specious monster, my accomplished snare. 
 I thought it lawful from my former act, 
 And the same end ; still watching to oppress 
 Israel's oppressors: of what now I suffer 
 She was not the prime cause, but I myself, 
 Who, vanquished with a peal of words, (0 weak- 
 ness !) 
 Gave up my fort of silence to a woman. 
 
 Chor. In seeking just occasion to provoke 
 The Philistine, thy country's enemy. 
 Thou never wast amiss, I bear thee witness: 
 Yet Israel still serves with all his sons. 
 
 Sams. That fault I take not on me, but transfer 
 On Israel's governors and heads of tribes. 
 Who, seeing those great acts which God had done 
 Singly by me against their conquerors. 
 Acknowledged not, or not at all considered. 
 Deliverance oflTered : I on the other side 
 Used no ambition to commend my deeds ; 
 The deeds themselves, though mute, spoke loud the 
 
 doer: 
 But they persisted deaf, and would not seem 
 To count (hem things worth notice, till at length 
 Their lords the Philistines with gathered powers 
 Entered Judea seeking me, who then 
 Safe to the rock of Etham was retired ; 
 Not flying, but forecasting in what place 
 To set upon them, what advantaged best. 
 Meanwhile the men of Judah, to prevent 
 The harass of their land, beset me round ; 
 I willingly on some conditions came 
 Into their hands, and they as gladly yield me 
 To the uncircumcised a welcome prey. 
 Bound with two cords; but cords to me were threads 
 Touched with the flame: on their whole host I flew 
 Unarmed, and with a trivial weapon felled 
 Their choicest youth; they only lived who fled. 
 Had Judah that day joined, or one whole tribe. 
 They had by this possessed the towers of Gath, 
 And lorded over them whom they now serve; 
 But what more oft, in nations grown corrupt, 
 And by their vices brought to servitude, 
 Than to love bondage more than liberty ; 
 Bondage with ease than strenuous liberty ; 
 And to despise, or envy, or suspect. 
 Whom God hath of his special favour raised 
 As their deliverer ? if he aught begin, 
 How frequent to desert him, and at last 
 
120 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 ( 
 
 To heap infjratitude on worthiest deeds! 
 
 Chor. Tliy words to my remembrance briuyf 
 How Succoth and the fort of Penuel 
 Their preat deliverer contemned, 
 The matchless Gideon, in pursuit 
 Of Madian, and her vanquished kin^ : 
 And how int^rateful Ephraim 
 Had dealt with Jephtha, who by argument. 
 Not worse tlian by his shield and spear, 
 Defended Israel from the Ammonite, 
 Had not his prowess quelled their pride 
 lu that sore battle, when so many died 
 Without reprieve, adjudged to death, 
 For want of well pronouncing' Shibboleth. 
 
 Sams. Of such examples add me to the roll ; 
 Me easily indeed mine may neglect. 
 But God's proposed deliverance not so. 
 \ i Chor. Just are the ways of God, 
 
 I And justifiable to men ; < 
 
 Unless there be, who think not God at all : nA -/ 
 
 If any be, they walk obscure; 
 
 For of such doctrine never was there school, 
 
 But the heart of the fool, 
 
 And no man therein doctor but himself. 
 
 Yet more there be, who doubt his ways not just, 
 As to his own edicts found contradicting. 
 Then give the reins to wandering thought, 
 Regardless of his glory's diminution; 
 Till by their own perplexities involved. 
 They ravel more, still less resolved. 
 But never find self-satisfying solution. 
 
 As if they would confine the Interminable, 
 And tic him to his own prescript, 
 Who made our laws to bind us, not himself, 
 And hath full right to exempt 
 Whom so it pleases him by choice 
 From national obstriction, without taint 
 Of sin, or legal debt ; 
 For with his own laws he can best dispense. 
 
 He would not else, who never wanted means. 
 Nor in respect of the enemy just cause, 
 To set his people free. 
 Have prompted this heroic Nazarite, 
 Against his vow of strictest purity. 
 To seek in marriage that fallacious bride. 
 Unclean, unchaste. 
 
 Down, reason, then ; at least, vain reasonings, 
 down ; 
 Though reason here aver. 
 That moral verdict quits her of unclean : 
 Unchaste was subsequent ; her stain, not his. 
 
 But see, here comes thy reverend sire 
 With careful step, locks white as down. 
 Old Manoah : advise 
 Forthwith how thou oughtest to receive him. 
 
 Sams. Ay me ! another inward grief, awaked 
 With mention of that name, renews the assault. 
 
 Enter Manoah. 
 
 Man. Brethren, and men of Dan, for such ye seem, 
 Though in this uncouth place ; if old respect. 
 
 As I suppose, towards your once gloried friend. 
 My son now captive, hither hath informed 
 Your younger feet, while mine cast back with age 
 Came lagging after ; say if he be here. 
 
 Chor. As signal now in low dejected state. 
 As erst in highest, behold him where he lies. 
 
 Man. O miserable change ! is this the man. 
 That invincible Samson, far renowned. 
 The dread of Israel's foes, who with a strength 
 Equivalent to angels walked their streets. 
 None offering fight ; who single combatant 
 Duelled their armies ranked in proud array. 
 Himself an army, now unequal match 
 To save himself against a coward armed 
 At one spear's length ? O ever-failing trust 
 In mortal strength ! and oh ! what not in man 
 Deceivable and vain .-' Nay, what thing good 
 Prayed for, but often proves our bane .'* 
 I prayed for children, and thought barrenness 
 In wedlock a reproach ; I gained a son. 
 And such a son as all men hailed me happy; 
 Who would be now a father in my stead ? 
 O wherefore did God grant me my request, 
 And as a blessing with such pomp adorned ? 
 Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt 
 Our earnest prayers, then, given with solemn band 
 As graces, draw a scorpion's tail behind .'* 
 For this did the angel twice descend ? for this 
 Ordained thy nurture holy, as of a plant 
 Select, and sacred, glorious for a while, 
 The miracle of men ; then in an hour 
 Ensnared, assaulted, overcome, led bound. 
 Thy foe's derision, captive, poor, and blind, 
 Into a dungeon thrust, to work with slaves ? 
 Alas ! methinks whom God hath chosen once 
 To worthiest deeds, if he through frailty err, 
 He should not so o'erwhelm, and as a thrall 
 Subject him to so foul indignities, 
 Be it but for honour's sake of former deeds. 
 
 Sams. Appoint not heavenly disposition, father; 
 Nothing of all these evils hath befallen me 
 But justly; I myself have brought them on, 
 Sole author I, sole cause; if aught seem vile, 
 As vile hath been my folly, who have profaned 
 The myslerj' of God given me under pledge 
 Of vow, and have betrayed it to a woman, 
 A Canaanite, my faithless enemy. 
 This well I knew, nor was at all surprised. 
 But warned by oft experience : did not she 
 Of Timna first betray me, and reveal 
 The secret wrested from me in her highth 
 Of nuptial love professed, carrying it straight 
 To them who had corrupted her, my spies. 
 And rivals? In this other was there found 
 More faith, who also in her prime of love. 
 Spousal embraces, vitiated with gold. 
 Though offered only, by the scent conceived 
 Her spurious first-born, treason against me .'' 
 Thrice she assayed with flattering prayers and sighs, 
 And amorous reproaches, to win from me 
 My capital secret; in what part my strength 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 121 
 
 Lay stored, in what part summed, that she might know 
 Thrice I deluded her, and turned to sport 
 Her importunity, each time perceiving- 
 How openly, and with what impudence 
 She purposed to betray me, (which was worse 
 Than undissembled hate,) with what contempt 
 She soug^ht to make me traitor to myself; 
 Yet the fourth time, when, mustering- all her wiles, 
 V/ith blandished parleys, feminine assaults. 
 Tongue-batteries, she surceased not day nor night 
 To storm me over-watched, and wearied out, 
 At times when men seek most repose and rest, 
 I yielded, and unlocked her all my heart. 
 Who, with a grain of manhood well resolved. 
 Might easily have shook off all her snares: 
 But foul effeminacy held me yoked 
 Her bond -slave ; O indignity, O blot 
 To honour and religion ! servile mind 
 Rewarded well with servile punishment ! 
 The base degree to which I now am fallen, 
 These rags, this g-rinding, is not yet so base 
 As was my former servitude ignoble, 
 Unmanly, ig-nominious, infamous, 
 True slavery ; and that blindness worse than this. 
 That saw not how degenerately I served. 
 
 Man. I cannot praise thy marriage-choices, son. 
 Rather approved them not ; but thou didst plead 
 Divine impulsion prompting how thou mightst 
 Find some occasion to infest our foes. 
 I state not that ; this I am sure, our foes 
 Found soon occasion thereby to make thee 
 Their captive, and their trium])h ; thou the sooner 
 • Temptation foundest, or over-potent charms. 
 To violate the sacred trust of silence 
 Deposited within thee ; which to have kept 
 Tacit was in thy power : true ; and thou bearest 
 Enough, and more, the burthen of that fault; 
 Bitterly hast thou paid, and still art paying. 
 That rigid score. A worse thing yet remains: 
 This day the Philistines a popular feast 
 Here celebrate in Gaza ; and proclaim 
 Great pomp, and sacrifice, and praises loud, 
 To Dagon, as their god who hath delivered 
 Thee, Samson, bound and blind into their hands ; 
 Them out of thine, who slewest them many a slain. 
 So Dagon shall be magnified, and God, 
 Besides whom is no god, compared with idols, 
 Disglorified, blasphemed, and had in scorn 
 Bv the idolatrous rout amidst their wine ; 
 Which to have come to pass by means of thee, 
 Samson, of all thy sufferings think the heaviest, \ 
 Of all reproach, the most with shame that ever 
 Could have befallen thee and thy father's house. 
 
 Sams. Father, I do acknowledge and confess 
 That I this honour, I this pomp, have brought 
 To Dagon, and advanced his praises high 
 Among the heathen round : to God have brought 
 Dishonour, obloquy, and oped the mouths 
 Of idolists and atheists ; have brought scandal 
 To Israel, diffidence of God, and doubt 
 In feeble hearts, propense enough before 
 
 To waver, or fall off and join with idols ; 
 Which is my chief affliction, shame, and sorrow, 
 The anguish of my soul, that suffers not 
 Mine eye to harbour sleep, oi thoughts to rest. 
 This only hope relieves me, that the strife 
 With me hath end ; all the contest is now 
 'Twixt God and Dagon ; Dagon hath presumed, 
 Me overthrown, to enter lists with God, 
 His deity comparing and preferring 
 Before the God of Abraham. He, be sure. 
 Will not connive, or linger, thus provoked ; 
 But will arise, and his great name assert : 
 Dagon must stoop, and shall ere long receive 
 Such a discomfit, as shall quite despoil him 
 Of all these boasted trophies won on me. 
 And with confusion blank his worshippers. 
 
 Man. With cause this hope relieves thee, and these 
 words 
 I as a prophecy receive ; for God, 
 Nothing more certain, will not long- defer 
 To vindicate the glory of his name 
 Against all competition, nor will long 
 Endure it doubtful whether God be Lord, 
 Or Dagon. But for thee what shall be done ? 
 Thou must not, in the mean while here forgot, 
 Lie in this miserable loathsome plight. 
 Neglected. I already have made way 
 To some Philistian lords, with whom to treat 
 About thy ransom : well they may by this 
 Have satisfied their utmost of revenge 
 By pains and slaveries, worse than death, inflicted 
 On thee who now no more canst do them harm. 
 
 Sams. Spare that proposal, father ; spare the trouble 
 Of that solicitation ; let me here. 
 As I deserve, pay on my punishment ; 
 And expiate, if possible, my crime. 
 Shameful garrulity. To have revealed 
 Secrets of men, the secrets of a friend. 
 How heinous had the fact been, how deserving- 
 Contempt and scorn of all, to be excluded 
 All friendship, and avoided as a blab. 
 The mark of fool set on his front! But I 
 God's counsel have not kept, his holy secret 
 Presumptuously have published, impiously, 
 Weakly at least, and shamefully ; a sin 
 That Gentiles in their parables condemn 
 To their abyss and horrid pains confined. 
 
 Man. Be penitent, and for thy fault contrite ; 
 But act not in thy own affliction, son : 
 Repent the sin; but, if the punishment 
 Thou canst avoid, self-preservation bids; 
 Or the execution leave to high disposal, 
 And let another hand, not thine, exact 
 Thy penal forfeit from thyself: perhaps 
 God will relent, and quit thee all his debt; 
 Who ever more approves, and more accepts 
 (Best pleased with humble and filial submission) 
 Him who, imploring mercy, sues for life. 
 Than who, self-rigorous, chooses death as due ; 
 Which argues over-just, and self-displeased 
 For self-offence, more than for God offended. 
 
122 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Reject not then what offered means ; who knows 
 But God hath sent before us, to return thee 
 Home to thy country and his sacred house, 
 Where thou mayest bring thy offerin^js, to avert 
 His further ire, with prayers and vows renewed ? 
 Sams. His pardon I implore; but as for life, 
 To what end should I seek it ? When in strenfjth 
 All mortals I excelled, and great in hopes 
 With youthful coura^^e and magnanimous thoughts 
 Of birth from heaven foretold, and high exploits, 
 Full of divine instinct, after some proof 
 Of acts indeed heroic, far beyond 
 The sons of Anak, famous now and blazed. 
 Fearless of danger, like a petty god 
 I walked about admired of all, and dreaded 
 On hostile ground, none daring my affront. 
 Then, swollen with pride, into the snare I fell 
 Of fair fallacious looks, venereal trains. 
 Softened with pleasure and voluptuous life, 
 At length to lay my head and hallowed pledge 
 Of all my strength in the lascivious lap 
 Of a deceitful concubine, who shore me 
 Like a tame wether, all my precious fleece, 
 Then turned me out ridiculous, despoiled. 
 Shaven, and disarmed among my enemies. 
 
 Chor. Desire of wine and all delicious drinks, 
 Which many a famous warrior overturns. 
 Thou couldst repress ; nor did the dancing ruby 
 Sparkling, out-poured, the flavour, or the smell, 
 Or taste that cheers the heart of gods and men, 
 Allure thee from the cool crystalline stream. 
 
 Sams. Wherever fountain or fresh current flowed 
 Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure 
 With touch ethereal of heaven's fiery rod, 
 I drank, from the clear milky juice allaying 
 Thirst, and refreshed : nor envied them the grape 
 Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with fumes. 
 
 Chur. O madness, to think use of strongest wines, 
 And strongest drinks, our chief support of health. 
 When God with these forbidden made choice to rear 
 His mighty champion, strong above compare. 
 Whose drink was only from the liquid brook! 
 
 Sams. But what availed this temperance, not com- 
 plete 
 Against another object more enticing ? 
 What boots it at one gate to make defence. 
 And at another to let in the foe, 
 Effeminately vanquished ? by which means, 
 Now blind, disheartened, shamed, dishonoured, quelled. 
 To what can I be useful, wherein serve 
 My nation, and the work from Heaven imposed. 
 But to sit idle on the household hearth, 
 A burdenons drone ; to visitants a gaze, 
 Or pitied object, these redundant locks 
 Robustious to no purpose clustering down. 
 Vain monument of strength ; till length of years 
 And sedentary numbness craze my limbs 
 To a contemptible old age obscure ? 
 Here rather let me drudge, and earn my bread ; 
 Till vermin, or the draff of servile food, 
 Consume me, and oft-iovocated death 
 
 Hasten the welcome end of all my pains. 
 Man. Wilt thou then serve the Philistines with that 
 gift 
 Which was expressly given thee to annoy thcra.'' 
 Better at home lie bed-rid, not only idle, 
 Inglorious, unemployed, with age outworn. 
 But God, who caused a fountain at thy prayer 
 From the dry ground to spring, thy thirst to allay 
 After the brunt of the battle, can as easy 
 Cause light again within thy eyes to spring. 
 Wherewith to serve him better than thou hast : 
 And I persuade me so ; why else this strength 
 Miraculous yet remaining in those locks ? 
 His might continues in thee not for nought. 
 Nor shall his wondrous gifts be frustrate thus. 
 
 Sams. All otherwise to me my thoughts portend, 
 That these dark orbs no more shall treat with light. 
 Nor the other light of life continue long. 
 But yield to double darkness nigh at hand : 
 So much I feel my genial spirits droop. 
 My hopes all flat, nature within me seems 
 In all her functions weary of herself; 
 My race of glory i*un, and race of shame, 
 And I shall shortly be with them that rest. 
 
 Man. Believe not these suggestions, which proceed 
 From anguish of the mind and humours black. 
 That mingle with thy fancy. I however 
 Must not omit a father's timely care 
 To prosecute the means of thy deliverance 
 By ransom, or how else : meanwhile be calm. 
 And healing words from these thy friends admit. 
 
 lExit. 
 
 Sams. O that torment should not be confined 
 To the body's wounds and sores, 
 With maladies innumerable 
 In heart, head, breast, and reins ; 
 But must secret passage find 
 To the inmost mind. 
 There exercise all his fierce accidents, 
 And on her purest spirits prey, 
 As on entrails, joints, and limbs 
 With answerable pains, but more intense, 
 Though void of corporal sense ! 
 
 My griefs not only pain me. 
 As a lingering disease. 
 But finding no redress, ferment and rage ; 
 Nor less than wounds immedicable 
 Rankle, and fester, and gangrene, 
 To black mortification. 
 
 Thoughts, my tormentors, armed with deadly stings. 
 Mangle my apprehensive tenderest parts, 
 Exasperate, exulcerate, and raise 
 Dire inflammation, which no cooling herb 
 Or medicinal liquor can assuage. 
 Nor breath of vernal air from snowy Alp. 
 Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er 
 To death's benumbing opium as my only cure: 
 Thence faintings, swoonings of despair. 
 And sense of Heaven's desertion. 
 
 I was his nursling once, and choice delight. 
 His destined from the womb, 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 123 
 
 Promised by heavenly message twice descending. 
 
 Under his special eye 
 
 Abstemious I grew up, and thrived amain ; 
 
 He led me on to mightiest deeds, 
 
 Above the nerve of mortal arm. 
 
 Against the uncircumcised, our enemies: 
 
 But now hath cast me off as never known, 
 
 And to those cruel enemies. 
 
 Whom I by his appointment had provoked. 
 
 Left me all helpless, with the irreparable loss 
 
 Of sight, reserved alive to be repeated 
 
 The subject of their cruelty or scorn. 
 
 Nor am I in the list of them that hope; 
 
 Hopeless are all my evils, all remediless : 
 
 This one prayer yet remains, might I be beard, 
 
 No long petition ; speedy death. 
 
 The close of all my miseries, and the balm. 
 
 Chor. Many are the sayings of the wise, 
 In ancient and in modern books enrolled, 
 Extolling patience as the truest fortitude ; 
 And to the bearing well of all calamities, 
 All chances incident to man's frail life, 
 Consolatories writ 
 
 With studied argument, and much persuasion sought. 
 Lenient of grief and anxious thought: 
 But with the afflicted in his pangs their sound 
 Little prevails, or rather seems a tune 
 Harsh, and of dissonant mood from his complaint: 
 Unless he feel within 
 Some source of consolation from above. 
 Secret refreshings, that repair his strength, 
 And fainting spirits uphold. 
 
 God of our fathers ! what is man, X_ 
 
 That thou towards him with band so various. 
 Or might I say contrarious, 
 
 Temperest thy providence through his short course, 
 Not evenly, as thou rulest 
 The angelic orders, and inferior creatures mute. 
 Irrational and brute."* 
 Nor do I name of men the common rout, 
 That, wandering loose about, 
 Grow up and perish, as the summer-fly. 
 Heads without name, no more remembered ; 
 But such as thou hast solemnly elected. 
 With gifts and graces eminently adonied. 
 To some great work, thy glory. 
 And people's safety, which in part they effect: 
 Yet toward these thus dignified, thou oft 
 Amidst their highth of noon, 
 
 Changestthy countenance, and thy hand, with no regard 
 Of highest favours past 
 From thee on them, or them to thee of service. 
 
 Nor only dost degrade them, or remit 
 To life obscured, which were a fair dismission. 
 But throwest them lower than thou didst exalt them 
 
 high. 
 Unseemly falls in human eye, 
 Too grievous for the trespass or omission ; 
 Oft leavest them to the hostile sword 
 Of heathen and profane, their carcasses 
 To dogs and fowls a prey, or else captived ; 
 
 Or to the unjust tribunals, under change of times, 
 
 And condemnation of the ingrateful multitude. 
 
 If these they escape, perhaps in poverty 
 
 With sickness and disease thou bowest them down. 
 
 Painful diseases and deformed. 
 
 In crude old age; 
 
 Though not disordinate, yet causeless suffering 
 
 The punishment of dissolute days : in fine. 
 
 Just or unjust, alike seem miserable. 
 
 For oft alike both come to evil end. 
 
 So deal not with this once thy glorious champion. 
 The image of thy strength, and mighty minister. 
 What do I beg ? how hast thou dealt already ? 
 Behold him in this state calamitous, and turn 
 His labours, for thou canst, to peaceful end. 
 
 But who is this, what thing of sea or land f 
 Female of sex it seems, 
 That so bedecked, ornate, and gay. 
 Comes this way sailing. 
 Like a stately ship 
 Of Tarsus, bound for the isles 
 Of Javan or Gadire, 
 
 With all her bravery on, and tackle trim. 
 Sails filled, and streamers waving, 
 Courted by all the winds, that hold them play. 
 An amber scent of odorous perfume 
 Her harbinger, a damsel train behind .•• 
 Some rich Philistian matron she may seem ; 
 And now at nearer view, no other certain 
 Than Dalila thy wife. 
 
 Sams. My wife ! my traitress ; let her not come 
 near me. 
 
 Chor. Yet on she moves, now stands and eyes thee 
 fixed. 
 About to have spoke ; but now, with head declined. 
 Like a fair flower surcharged with dew, she weeps, 
 And words addressed seem into tears dissolved. 
 Wetting the borders of her silken veil : 
 But now again she makes address to speak. 
 
 Enter Dalila. 
 
 Dal. With doubtful feet and wavering resolution 
 I came, still dreading thy displeasure, Samson, 
 Which to have merited, without excuse, 
 I cannot but acknowledge ; yet, if tears 
 May expiate, (though the fact more evil drew 
 In the perverse event than I foresaw,) 
 My penance hath not slackened, though my pardon 
 No way assured. But conjugal affection, 
 Prevailing over fear and timorous doubt, 
 Hath led me on, desirous to behold 
 Once more thy face, and know of thy estate. 
 If aught in my ability may serve 
 To lighten what thou sufferest, and appease 
 Thy mind with what amends is in my power. 
 Though late, yet in some part to recompense 
 My rash, but more unfortunate misdeed. 
 
 Sams. Out, out, hysena ! these are thy wonted arts, 
 And arts of every woman false like thee, 
 To break all faith, all vows, deceive, betray, 
 Then as repentant to submit, beseech. 
 
134 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 And reconcilement move with feigned remorse, 
 Confess, and promise wonders in her change ; 
 Not truly penitent, but chief to try 
 Her husband, how far urg'ed his patience bears, 
 His virtue or weakness wiiich way to assail : 
 Then with more cautious and instructed skill 
 Again transgresses, and again submits; 
 That wisest and best men, full oft beguiled, 
 With goodness principled not to reject 
 The penitent, but ever to forgive. 
 Are drawn to wear out miserable days, 
 Entangled with a poisonous bosom-snake, 
 If not by quick destruction soon cut off, 
 As I by thee, to ages an example. 
 
 Dal. Yet hear me, Samson ; not that I endeavour 
 To lessen or extenuate my offence. 
 But that on the other side, if it be weighed 
 By itself, with aggravations not surcharged. 
 Or else with just allowance counterpoised, 
 I may, if possible, thy pardon find 
 The easier towards me, or thy hatred less. 
 First granting, as I do, it was a weakness 
 In me, but incident to all our sex. 
 Curiosity, inquisitive, importune. 
 Of secrets, then with like infirmity 
 To publish them, both common female faults : 
 
 ^ Was it not weakness also to make known 
 For importunity, that is, for nought. 
 Wherein consisted all thy strength and safety ? 
 To what I did thou showedst me first the way. 
 But I to enemies revealed, and should not : 
 Nor shouldst thou have trusted that to woman's frailty : 
 Ere I to thee, thou to thyself wast cruel. 
 Let weakness then with weakness come to parle, 
 So near related, or the same of kind. 
 Thine forgive mine ; that men may censure thine 
 The gentler, if severely thou exact not 
 More strength from me than in thyself was found. 
 And what if love, which thou interpretest hate. 
 The jealousy of love, powerful of sway 
 In human hearts, nor less in mine towards thee, 
 Caused what I did ? I saw thee mutable 
 Of fancy, feared lest one day thou wouldst leave me 
 As her at Timna, sought by all means therefore 
 How to endure, and hold thee to me firmest: 
 
 <No better way I saw than by importuning 
 
 /To learn thy secrets, get into my power 
 I Thy key of strength and safety. Thou wilt say, 
 
 (Why then revealed ? I was assured by those 
 Who tempted me, that nothing was designed 
 Against thee but safe custody, and hold : 
 That made for me ; I knew that liberty 
 Would draw thee forth to perilous enterprises. 
 While I at home sat full of cares and fears. 
 Wailing thy absence in my widowed bed ; 
 Here I should still enjoy thee, day and night. 
 Mine and love's prisoner, not the Philistines', 
 Whole to myself, unhazarded abroad, 
 Fearless at home of partners in my love. 
 These reasons in love's law have past for good, 
 Tbough fond and reasonless to some perhaps : 
 
 And love hath oft, well meaning, wrought much woe, 
 
 Yet always pity or pardon hath obtained. 
 
 Be not unlike all others, not austere 
 
 As thou art strong, inflexible as steel. 
 
 If thou in strength all mortals dost exceed, 
 
 In uncompassionate anger do not so. 
 
 Sams. How cunningly the sorceress displays 
 Her own transgressions, to upbraid me mine ! 
 That malice, not repentance, brought thee hither. 
 By this appears : I gave, thou sayest, the example, 
 I led the way; bitter reproach, but true; 
 I to myself was false, ere thou to me : 
 Such pardon therefore as I give my folly. 
 Take to thy wicked d^ed ; which when thou seest 
 Impartial, self-severe, inexorable. 
 Thou wilt renounce thy seeking, and much rather 
 Confess it feigned. Weakness is thy excuse. 
 And I believe it ; weakness to resist 
 Philistian gold : if weakness may excuse, 
 What murderer, what traitor, parricide, 
 ilncestuous, sacrilegious, but may plead it ? 
 iAll wickedness is weakness : that plea therefore 
 / With God or man will gain thee no remission. 
 \ But love constrained thee ; call it furious rage 
 ' To satisfy thy lust : love seeks to have love ; 
 My love how couldst thou hope, who tookest the Way 
 To raise in me inexpiable hate. 
 Knowing, as needs I must, by thee betrayed ."* 
 In vain thou strivest to cover shame with shame. 
 Or by evasions thy crime uncoverest more. 
 
 Dal. Since thou determinest weakness for no plea 
 In man or woman, though to thy own condemning. 
 Hear what assaults I had, what snares besides. 
 What sieges girt me round, ere I consented ; 
 Which might have awed the best-resolved of men. 
 The constantest, to have yielded without blame. 
 It was not gold, as to my charge thou layest. 
 That wrought with me : thou knowest the magistrates 
 And princes of my country came in person, 
 Solicited, commanded, threatened, urged, 
 Adjured by all the bonds of civil duty 
 And of religion, pressed how just it was, 
 How honourable, how glorious, to entrap 
 A common enemy, who had destroyed 
 Such numbers of our nation : and the priest 
 Was not behind, but ever at my ear. 
 Preaching how meritorious with the gods 
 It would be to ensnare an irreligious 
 Dishonourer of Dagon : what had I 
 To oppose against such powerful arguments ? 
 Only my love of thee held long debate. 
 And combated in silence all these reasons 
 With hard contest : at length that grounded maxim 
 So rife and celebrated in the mouths 
 Of wisest men, that to the public good 
 Private respects must yield, with grave authority, 
 Took full possession of me, and prevailed ; 
 Virtue, as I thought, truth, duty, so enjoining. 
 Sams. I thought where all thy circling wiles would 
 
 end; 
 In feigned religion, smooth hypocrisy ! 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 125 
 
 But had thy love, still odiously pretended, 
 
 Been, as it oug'ht, sincere, it would have taught thee 
 
 Far other reasonings, brought forth other deeds. 
 
 I, before all the daughters of my tribe 
 
 And of my nation, chose thee from among 
 
 My enemies, loved thee, as too well thou knewest ; 
 
 Too well ; unbosomed all my secrets to thee, 
 
 Not out of levity, but overpowered 
 
 By thy request, wiio could deny thee nothing; 
 
 Yet now am judged an enemy. Why then 
 
 Didst thou at first receive me for thy husband, 
 
 Then, as since then, thy country's foe professed ? 
 
 Being once a wife, for me thou wast to leave 
 
 Parents and country ; nor was I their subject, 
 
 Nor under their protection, but my own. 
 
 Thou mine, not theirs : if aught against my life 
 
 Thy country sought of thee, it sought unjustly, 
 
 Against the law of nature, law of nations ; 
 
 No more thy country, but an impious crew 
 
 Of men conspiring to uphold their state 
 
 By worse than hostile deeds, violating the ends 
 
 For which our country is a name so dear ; 
 
 Not therefore to be obeyed. But zeal moved thee ; 
 
 To please thy gods thou didst it; gods, unable 
 
 To acquit themselves and prosecute their foes 
 
 But by ungodly deeds, the contradiction 
 
 Of their own deity, gods cannot be ; 
 
 Less therefore to be pleased, obeyed, or feared. 
 
 These false pretexts, and varnished colours, failing, 
 
 Bare in thy guilt, how fodl must thou appear .•* 
 
 Dal. In argument with men a woman ever \ 
 Goes by the worse whatever be her cause. ' 
 
 Sams. For want of words no doubt, or lack of 
 breath ; 
 Witness when I was worried with thy peals. 
 
 Dal. I was a fool, too rash, and quite mistaken 
 In what I thought would have succeeded best. 
 Let me obtain forgiveness of thee, Samson ; 
 Afford me place to show what recompense 
 Towards thee I intend for what I have mi^done, 
 Misguided ; only what remains past cure 
 Bear not too sensibly, nor still insist 
 To afflict thyself in vain : though sight be lost, 
 Life yet hath many solaces, enjoyed 
 Where other senses want not their delights 
 At home in leisure and domestic ease. 
 Exempt from many a care and chance, to which 
 Eye-sight exposes daily men abroad. 
 I to the lords will intercede, not doubting 
 Their favourable ear, that I may fetch thee 
 From forth this loathsome prison-house to abide 
 W^ith me, where my redoubled love and care 
 With nursing diligence, to me glad office. 
 May ever tend about thee to old age. 
 With all things grateful cheered, and so supplied, 
 That, what by me thou hast lost, thou least shalt miss. 
 
 Sams. No, no ; of my condition take no care ; 
 It fits not ; thou and I long since are twain : 
 Nor think me so unwary or accursed. 
 To bring my feet again into the snare 
 Where once I have been caught : I know thy trains, 
 
 Though dearly to my cost, thy gins, and toils ; 
 
 Thy fair enchanted cup, and warbling charms, 
 
 No more on me have power ; their force is nulled ; 
 
 So much of adder's wisdom I have learned, 
 
 To fence my ear against thy sorceries. 
 
 If in my flower of youth and strength, when all men 
 
 Loved, honoured, feared me, thou alone couldst hate me 
 
 Thy husband, slight me, sell me, and forego me ; 
 
 How wouldst thou use me now, blind and thereby 
 
 Deceivable, in most things as a child 
 
 Helpless, thence easily contemned and scorned, 
 
 And last neglected ! how wouldst thou insult 
 
 When I must live uxorious to thy will 
 
 In perfect thraldom ! how again betray me, 
 
 Bearing my words and doings to the lords 
 
 To gloss upon, and, censuring, frown or smile ! 
 
 This jail I count the house of liberty 
 
 To thine, whose doors my feet shall never enter. 
 
 Dal. Let me approach at least, and touch thy hand. 
 
 Sams. Not for thy life, lest fierce remembrance 
 wake 
 My sudden rage to tear thee joint by joint. 
 At distance I forgive thee; go with that; 
 Bewail thy falsehood, and the pious works 
 It hath brought forth to make thee memorable 
 Among illustrious women, faithful wives ! 
 Cherish thy hastened widowhood with the gold 
 Of matrimonial treason ! so farewell. 
 
 Dal. I see thou art implacable, more deaf 
 To prayers than winds and seas ; yet winds to seas 
 Are reconciled at length, and sea to shore: 
 Thy anger, unappeasable, still rages, 
 Eternal tempest, never to be calmed. 
 Why do I humble thus myself, and, suing 
 For peace, reap nothing but repulse and hate ; 
 Bid go with evil omen, and the brand 
 Of infamy upon my name denounced .'* 
 To mix with thy concernments I desist 
 Henceforth, nor to much disapprove my own. 
 Fame, if not double-faced, is double-mouthed. 
 And with contrary blast proclaims most deeds ; 
 On both his wings, one black, the other white, 
 Bears greatest names in his wild aery flight. 
 My name perhaps among the circumcised 
 In Dan, in Judah, and the bordering tribes, 
 To all posterity may stand defamed. 
 With malediction mentioned, and the blot 
 Of falsehood most unconjugal traduced. 
 But in my country, where I most desire. 
 In Ecron, Gaza, Asdod, and in Gath, t. 
 
 I shall be named among the famousest ^ 
 
 Of women, sung at solemn festivals, o^KBt 
 
 Living and dead recorded, who, to save 
 Her country from a fierce destroyer, chose 
 Above the faith of wedlock-bands; my tomb 
 With odours visited and annual flowers ; 
 Not less renowned than in mount Ephraim 
 Jael, who with inhospitable guile 
 Smote Sisera sleeping, through the temples nailed. 
 Nor shall I count it heinous to enjoy 
 The public marks of honour and reward, 
 
126 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Conferred upon me, for the piety 
 Which to my country I was judged to have shown. 
 At this whoever envies or repines ; 
 I leave him to his lot, and like my own. {Exit. 
 
 i Chor. She's g'one, a manifest serpent by her sting- 
 Discovered in the end, till now concealed. 
 
 Sam». So let her go ; God sent her to debase me. 
 And ag-gravate my folly, who committed 
 To such a viper his most sacred trust 
 Of secrecy, my safety, and my life. 
 
 Chor. Yet beauty, though injurious, hath strange 
 power, 
 After offence returning', to regain 
 Love once possessed, nor can be easily 
 Repulsed without much inward passion felt. 
 And secret sting of amorous remorse. 
 
 Sams. Love-quarrels oft in pleasing concord end, 
 Not wedlock treachery endangering life. 
 
 Chor. It is not virtue, wisdom, valour, wit. 
 Strength, comeliness of shape, or amplest merit 
 That woman's love can win, or long inherit; 
 But what it is, hard is to say, 
 Harder to hit, 
 
 (Which way soever men refer it,) 
 Much like thy riddle, Samson, in one day 
 Or seven, thonj^h one should musing sit. 
 
 If any of these, or all, the Timnian bride 
 Had not so soon preferred 
 Thy paranymph, worthless to thee compared, 
 Successor in thy bed. 
 Nor both so loosely disallied 
 Their nuptials, nor this last so treacherously 
 Had shorn the fatal harvest of thy head. 
 Is it for that such outward ornament 
 Was lavished on their sex, that inward gifts 
 Were left for haste unfinished, judgment scant, 
 Capacity not raised to apprehend 
 Or value what is best 
 
 ^In choice, but oftenest to affect the wrong ? 
 ^Or was too much of self-love mixed, 
 Of constancy no root infixed. 
 That either they love nothing or not long .'' 
 
 Whate'er it be, to wisest men and best 
 Seeming at first all heavenly under virgin veil. 
 Soft, modest, meek, demure. 
 Once joined, the contrary she proves, a thorn 
 Intestine, far within defensive arms 
 A cleaving mischief, in his way to virtue 
 Adverse and turbulent ; or by her charms 
 Draws him awry enslaved 
 With dotage, and his sense depraved 
 •To folly and shameful deeds which ruin ends. 
 What pilot so expert but needs must wreck 
 Irabarked with such a steers-mate at the helm ? 
 
 Favoured of Heaven, who finds 
 One virtuous, rarely found, 
 That in domestic good combines ; 
 Happy that house ! his way to peace is smooth : 
 But virtue, which breaks through all opposition. 
 And all temptation can remove, 
 Most shines, and most is acceptable above. 
 
 / 
 
 Therefore God's universal law 
 Gave to the man despotic power 
 Over his female in due awe, 
 Nor from that right to part an hour, 
 .'Smile she or lour : 
 /So shall he least confusion draw 
 , On his whole life, not swayed 
 By female usurpation, or dismayed. 
 But had we best retire .'* I see a storm. 
 
 Sams. Fair days have oft contracted wind and rain. 
 
 Chor. But this another kind of tempest brings. 
 
 Sams. Be less abstruse ; my riddling days are past. 
 
 Chor. Look now for no enchanting voice, nor fear 
 The bait of honeyed words ; a rougher tongue 
 Draws hilherward ; I know him by his stride. 
 The giant Harapha of Gath, his look 
 Haughty, as is his pile high-built and proud. 
 Comes he in peace ? what wind hath blown him 
 
 hither 
 T less conjecture, than when first I saw 
 The sumptuous Dalila floating this way : 
 His habit carries peace, his brow defiance. 
 
 Sams. Or peace, or not, alike to me he comes. 
 
 Chor. His fraught we soon shall know, be now^ 
 arrives. 
 
 Enter Harapha. 
 
 Har. I come not, Samson, to condole thy chance, 
 As these perhaps, yet wish it had not been. 
 Though for no friendly intent. I am of Gath ; 
 Men call me Harapha, of stock renowned 
 As Og, or Anak, and the Emims old 
 That Kiriathaim held ; thou knowest me now 
 If thou at all art known. Much I have heard 
 Of thy prodigious might and feats performed. 
 Incredible to me, in this displeased. 
 That I was never present on the place 
 Of those encounters, where we might have tried i 
 
 Each other's force in camp or listed field ; 
 And now am come to see of whom such noise 
 Hath walked about, and each limb to survey, 
 If thy appearance answer loud report. 
 
 Sams. The way to know were not to see but taste. 
 
 Har. Dost thou already single me.'' I thought 
 Gyves and the mill had tamed thee. O that fortune 
 Had brought me to the field, where thou art famed 
 To have wrought such wonders with an ass's jaw ! 
 I should have forced thee soon with other arms, 
 Or left thy carcass where the ass lay thrown: 
 So had the glory of prowess been recovered 
 To Palestine, won by a Philistine, 
 From the unforeskinned race, of whom thou bearest 
 The highest name for valiant acts; that honour, 
 Certain to have won by mortal duel from thee, 
 I lose, prevented by thy eyes put out. 
 
 Sams. Boast not of what thou wouldst have done, 
 but do 
 What then thou wouldst ; thou seest it in thy hand. 
 
 Har. To combat with a blind man I disdain. 
 And thou hast need much washing to be touched. 
 
 Sams. Such usage as your honourable lords 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 127 
 
 Afford me, assassinated and betrayed, 
 Who durst not with their whole united powers 
 In fiffht withstand me sing-le and unarmed, 
 Nor in the house with chamber-ambushes 
 Close-banded durst attack me, no, not sleeping". 
 Till they had hired a woman with their gold, 
 Breaking' her marriag'e faith, to circumvent me. 
 Therefore, without feigned shifts, let be assigned 
 Some narrow place enclosed, where sight may give thee, 
 Or rather flight, no great advantage on me ; 
 And put on all thy gorgeous arms, thy helmet 
 And brigandine of brass, thy broad habergeon, 
 Vant-brace and greaves, and gauntlet, add thy spear, 
 A weaver's beam, and seven-times-folded shield; 
 I only with an oaken staff will meet thee. 
 And raise such outcries on thy flattered iron. 
 Which long shall not withhold me from thy head, 
 That in a little time, while breath remains thee, 
 Thou oft shalt wish thyself at Gath to boast 
 Again in safety what thou wouldst have done 
 To Samson, but shalt never see Gath more. 
 
 Har. Thou durst not thus disparage glorious arms. 
 Which greatest heroes have in battle worn. 
 Their ornament and safety, had not spells 
 And black enchantments, some magician's art. 
 Armed thee or charmed thee strong, which thou from 
 
 heaven 
 Feignedst at thy birth was given thee in thy hair. 
 Where strength can least abide, though all thy hairs 
 Were bristles ranged like those that ridge the back 
 Of chafed wild boars, or ruffled porcupines. 
 
 Sams. I know no spells, use no forbidden arts; 
 My trust is in the living God, who gave me 
 At my nativity this strength, diffused 
 No less through all my sinews, joints, and bones. 
 Than thine, while I preserved these locks unshorn, 
 The pledge of my unviolated vow. 
 For proof hereof, if Dagon be thy god. 
 Go to his temple, invocate his aid 
 With solemnest devotion, spread before him 
 How highly it concerns his glory now 
 To frustrate and dissolve these magic spells, 
 Which I to be the power of Israel's God 
 Avow, and challenge Dagon to the test. 
 Offering to combat thee his champion bold. 
 With the utmost of his godhead seconded : 
 Then thou shalt see, or rather, to thy sorrow. 
 Soon feel, whose God is strongest, thine or mine. 
 
 Har. Presume not on thy God, whate'er he be 
 Thee he regards not, owns not, hath cut off 
 Quite from his people, and delivered up 
 Into thy enemies' hand, permitted them 
 To put out both thine eyes, and, fettered, send thee 
 Into the common prison, there to grind 
 Among the slaves and asses thy comrades. 
 As good for nothing else ; no better service 
 With those thy boisterous locks, no worthy match 
 For valour to assail, nor by the sword 
 Of noble warrior, so to stain his honour, 
 But by the barber's razor best subdued. 
 
 Sams. All these indignities, for such they are 
 
 From thine, these evils I deserve, and more, 
 Acknowledge them from God inflicted on me 
 Justly, yet despair not of his final pardon, 
 Whose ear is ever open, and his eye 
 Gracious to re-admit the suppliant: 
 In confidence whereof I once again 
 Defy thee to the trial of mortal fight, 
 By combat to decide whose God is God, 
 Thine, or whom I with Israel's sons adore. 
 
 Har. Fair honour that thou dost thy God, in trusting 
 He will accept thee to defend his cause, 
 A murderer, a revolter, and a robber ! 
 
 Sams. Tongue-doughty giant, how dost thou prove 
 me these ? 
 
 Har. Is not thy nation subject to our lords ? 
 Their magistrates confessed it when they took thee 
 As a league-breaker, and delivered bound 
 Into our hands : for hadst thou not committed 
 Notorious murder on those thirty men 
 At Ascalon, who never did thee harm, 
 Then like a robber strippedst them of their robes P 
 The Philistines, when thou hadst broke the league. 
 Went up with armed powers thee only seeking. 
 To others did no violence nor spoil. 
 
 Sams. Among the daughters of the Philistines 
 I chose a wife, which argued me no foe ; 
 And in your city held my nuptial feast : 
 But your ill-meaning politician lords, 
 Under pretence of bridal friends and guests. 
 Appointed to await me thirty spies. 
 Who, threatening cruel death, constrained the bride 
 To wring from me, and tell to them, my secret. 
 That solved the riddle which I had proposed. 
 When I perceived all set on enmity. 
 As on my enemies, wherever chanced, 
 I used hostility, and took their spoil, 
 To pay my underminers in their coin. 
 My nation was subjected to your lords ; 
 It was the force of conquest ; force with force 
 Is well ejected when the conquered can. 
 But I a private person, whom my country 
 As a league-breaker gave up bound, presumed 
 Single rebellion, and did hostile acts. 
 I was no private, but a person raised 
 With strength sufficient, and command from Heaven, 
 To free my country, if their servile minds 
 Me, their deliverer sent, would not receive. 
 But to their masters gave me up for nought. 
 The unworthier they ; whence to this day they serve. 
 I was to do my part from Heaven assigned. 
 And had performed it, if my known offence 
 Had not disabled me, not all your force : 
 These shifts refuted, answer thy appellant, 
 Though by his blindness maimed for high attempts, 
 Who now defies thee thrice to single fight. 
 As a petty enterprise of small enforce. 
 
 Har. With thee, a man condemned, a slave enrolled, 
 Due by the law to capital punishment ! 
 To fight with thee no man of arms will deign. 
 
 Sams. Camest thou for this, vain boaster, to sur- 
 vey me. 
 
128 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 To descaDt on my strength, and give thy verdict ? 
 Come nearer; part not hence so slij^ht informed ; 
 But take good heed my hand survey not thee. 
 
 Har. Baal-zebub! can my ears unused 
 Hear these dishonours, and not render death ? 
 
 Sams. No man withholds thee, nothing from thy 
 band 
 Fear I incurable ; hring up thy ran, 
 My heels are fettered, but my fist is free. 
 
 Har. This insolence other kind of answer fits. 
 Sams. Go, baffled coward ! lest I run upon thee, 
 Though in these chains, bulk without spirit vast. 
 And with one buffet lay thy structure low. 
 Or swing thee in the air, then dash thee down. 
 To the hazard of thy brains and shattered sides. 
 Har. By Astaroth, ere long thou shalt lament 
 These braveries, in irons loaden on thee. [^Exit. 
 
 Chor. His giantship is gone somewhat crest-fallen. 
 Stalking with less unconscionable strides, 
 And lower looks, but in a sultry chafe. 
 
 Sams. I dread him not, nor all his giant-brood, 
 Though fame divulge him father of five sons, 
 All of gigantic size, Goliah chief. 
 ■: Chor. He will directly to the lords, I fear, 
 And with malicious counsel stir them up 
 Some way or other yet further to afflict thee. 
 
 Sams. He must allege some cause, and offered fight 
 Will not dare mention, lest a question rise 
 Whether he durst accept the offer or not ; 
 And, that he durst not, plain enough appeared. 
 Much more affliction than already felt 
 They cannot well impose, nor I sustain ; 
 If they intend advantage of my labours, 
 The work of many hands, which earns my keeping 
 With no small profit dailj' to my owners. 
 But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove 
 My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence ; 
 The worst that he can give, to me the best, 
 Yet so it may fall out, because their end 
 Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine 
 Draw their own ruin who attempt the deed. 
 , Chor. O how comely it is, and how reviving 
 To the spirits of just men long oppressed, 
 / When God into the hands of their deliverer 
 ^~| Pats invincible might 
 
 / To quell the mighty of the earth, the oppressor, 
 I The brute and boisterous force of violent men, 
 I Hardy and industrious to support 
 \ Tyrannic power, but raging to pursue 
 \The righteous and all such as honour truth ! 
 He all their ammunition 
 And feats of war defeats. 
 With plain heroic magnitude of mind 
 And celestial vigour armed ; 
 Their armouries and magazines contemns. 
 Renders them useless ; while 
 With winged expedition, 
 Swift as the lightning glance, he executes 
 His errand on the wicked, who, surprised. 
 Lose their defence, distracted and amazed. 
 But patience is more oft the exercise 
 
 Of saints, the trial of their fortitude, 
 
 Making them each his own deliverer, 
 
 And victor over all 
 
 That tyranny or fortune can inflict. 
 
 Either of these is in thy lot, 
 
 Samson, with might endued 
 
 Above the sons of men ; but sight bereaved 
 
 May chance to number thee with those 
 
 Whom patience finally must crown. 
 
 This idol's da>' hath been to thee no day of rest, 
 Labouring thy mind 
 More than the working day tiiy hands. 
 And yet perhaps more trouble is behind, 
 For I descry this way 
 Some other tending : in his hand 
 A scepter or quaint staff he bears, 
 Comes on amain, speed in his look. 
 By his habit I discern him now 
 A public officer, and now at hand ; 
 His message will be short and voluble. 
 
 Enter Officer. 
 
 Off. Hebrews, the prisoner Samson here I seek. 
 Chor. His manacles remark him, there he sits. 
 Off. Samson, to thee our lords thus bid me say: 
 This day to Dagon is a solemn feast, 
 With sacrifices, triumph, pomp, and games: 
 Thy strength they know surpassing human rate. 
 And now some public proof thereof require 
 To honour this great feast, and great assembly : 
 Rise therefore with all speed, and come along, 
 Where I will see thee heartened and fresh clad, 
 To appear as fits before the illustrious lords. 
 
 Sams. Thou knowest I am an Hebrew, therefore 
 tell them, 
 Our law forbids at their religious rites 
 My presence ; for that cause I cannot come. 
 
 Off. This answer, be assured, will not content 
 them. 
 
 Sams. Have they not sword-players, and every sort 
 Of gymnic artists, wrestlers, riders, runners. 
 Jugglers and dancers, antics, mummers, mimics, 
 But they must pick me out, with shackles tired, 
 And over-laboured at their public mill. 
 To make them sport with blind activity ? 
 Do they not seek occasion for new quarrels, 
 On my refusal to distress me more. 
 Or make a game of my calamities ? 
 Return the way thou camest, I will not come. 
 
 Off. Regard thyself; this will oflTend them highly. 
 
 Sams. Myself.'* my conscience, and intenial peace. 
 Can they think me so broken, so debased 
 With corporal servitude, that my mind ever 
 Will condescend to such absurd commands; 
 Although their drudge, to be their fool or jester, 
 And in my midst of sorrow and heart-grief 
 To show them feats, and play before their god, 
 The worst of all indignities, yet on me 
 Joined with extreme contempt ? I will not come. 
 
 Off. My message was imposed on me with speed, 
 Brooks no delay : is this thy resolution ? 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 12l> 
 
 Sams. So take it with what speed thy message 
 needs. 
 
 Off. I am sorry what this stoutness will produce. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 Sams. Perhaps thou shalt have cause to sorrow in- 
 deed. 
 
 Chor. Consider, Samson ; matters now are strained 
 Up to the hig^hth, whether to hold or break : 
 He's gone, and who knows how he may report 
 Thy words by adding fuel to the flame ? 
 Expect another message more imperious, 
 More lordly thundering than thou well wilt bear. 
 
 Sams. Shall I abuse this consecrated gift 
 Of strength, again returning with my hair 
 After my great transgression, so requite 
 Favour renewed, and add a greater sin 
 By prostituting holy things to idols ? 
 A Nazarite in place abominable 
 Vaunting my strength in honour to their Dagon ! 
 Besides, how vile, contemptible, ridiculous ! 
 What act more execrably unclean, profane .' 
 
 Chor. Yet with this strength thou servest the Phi- 
 listines, 
 Idolatrous, uncircumcised, unclean. 
 
 Sams. Not in their idol-worship, but by labour 
 Honest and lawful to deserve my food 
 Of those who have me in their civil power. \ 
 
 Chor. Where the heart joins not, outward acts defile 
 not. j 
 
 Sams. Where outward force constrains, the sentence/ 
 holds ; 
 But who constrains me to the temple of Dagon, 
 Not dragging.^ The Pbilistian lords command. 
 Commands are no constraints. If I obey them, 
 I do it freely, venturing to displease 
 God for the fear of man, and man prefer, 
 Set God behind : which in his jealousy 
 Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness. 
 Yet that he may dispense with me, or thee, 
 Present in temples at idolatrous rites 
 For some important cause, thou needest not doubt. 
 
 Chor. How thou wilt here come off surmounts my 
 reach. 
 
 Sams. Be of good courage ; I begin to feel 
 Some rousing motions in me, which dispose 
 To something extraordinary m}' thoughts. 
 I with this messenger will go along, 
 Nothing to do, be sure, that may dishonour 
 Our law, or stain my vow of Nazarite. 
 If there be aught of presage in the mind, 
 This day will be remarkable in my life 
 By some great act, or of my days the last. 
 
 Chor. In time thou hast resolved, the man returns. 
 
 Off. Samson, this second message from our lords 
 To thee I am bid say : Art thou our slave. 
 Our captive at the public mill, our drudge, 
 And darest thou at our sending and command 
 Dispute thy coming ? come without delay ; 
 Or we shall find such engines to assail 
 And hamper thee, as thou shalt come of force. 
 Though thou wert firmlier fastened than a rock. 
 
 * K 
 
 Sams. I could be well content to try their art. 
 Which to no i'ew of them would prove pernicious. 
 Yet, knowing their advantages too many. 
 Because they shall not trail me through their streets 
 Like a wild beast, I am content to go. 
 Masters' commands come with a power resistless 
 To such as owe them absolute subjection. 
 And for a life who will not change his purpose 
 (So mutable are all the ways of men,) 
 Yet this be sure, in nothing to comply 
 Scandalous or forbidden in our law. 
 
 Off. I praise thy resolution : doff these links; 
 By this compliance thou wilt win the lords 
 To favour, and perhaps to set thee free. 
 
 Sams. Brethren, farewell ; your company along 
 I will not wish, lest it perhaps offend them 
 To see me girt with friends; and how the sight 
 Of me, as of a common enemy. 
 So dreaded once, may now exasperate them, 
 I know not : lords are lordliest in their wine ; '^ 
 And the well-feasted priest then soonest fired 
 With zeal, if aught religion seem concerned; 
 No less the people, on their holy-days. 
 Impetuous, insolent, unquenchable: 
 Happen what may, of me expect to hear 
 Nothing dishonourable, impure, unworthy 
 Our God, our law, my nation, or myself; 
 The last of me or no, I cannot warrant. [Exit. B*" 
 
 Chor. Go, and the Holy One 
 Of Israel be thy guide 
 
 To what may serve his glory best, and spread his name 
 Great among the heathen round ; 
 Send thee the angel of thy birth, to stand 
 Fast by thy side, who from thy father's field 
 Rode up in flames after his message told 
 Of thy conception, and be now a shield 
 Of fire ; that spirit, that first rushed on thee 
 In the camp of Dan, 
 Be efficacious in thee now at need. 
 For never was from Heaven imparted 
 Measure of strength so great to mortal seed. 
 As in thy wondrous actions hath been seen. 
 But wherefore comes old Manoah in such haste 
 With youthful steps .'' much livelier than erewhile '^ 
 
 He seems ; supposing here to find his son, 
 Or of him bringing to us some glad news. 
 
 Enter Manoah. 
 
 Man. Peace with you, brethren ; my inducement 
 hither 
 Was not at present here to find my son. 
 By order of the lords now parted hence 
 To come and play before them at their feast. 
 I heard all as I came, the city rings, 
 And numbers thither flock : T had no will, 
 Lest I should see him forced to things unseemly. 
 But that, which moved my coming now, was chiefly 
 To give ye part with me what hope I have 
 With good success to work his liberty. 
 
 Chor. That hope would much rejoice us to partake 
 With thee ; say reverend sire, we thirst to hear. 
 
130 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Man. I have attempted one by one tlie lords 
 Either at home, or through the high-street passing, 
 With supplication prone and father's tears. 
 To accept oi ransom for my son their prisoner. 
 Some much averse I found, and wondrous harsh. 
 Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite ; 
 That part most reverenced Dagon and his priests : 
 Otliers more moderate seeming, but their aim 
 Private reward, for which both god and state 
 They easily would set to sale : a third 
 More generous far and civil, who confessed 
 They had enough revenged ; having reduced 
 Their foe to misery beneath their fears, 
 The rest was magnanimity to remit, 
 If some convenient ransom were proposed. 
 What noise or shout was that ? it tore the sky. 
 
 Chor. Doubtless the people shouting to beliold 
 Their once great dread, captive, and blind before them, 
 Or at some proof of strength before them shown. 
 
 Man. His ransom, if my whole inheritance 
 May compass it, shall willingly be paid 
 And numbered down : much rather I shall choose 
 To live the poorest in my tribe, than richest. 
 And he in that calamitous prison left. 
 No, I am fixed not to part hence without him. 
 For his redemption all my patrimony, 
 If need be, I am ready to forego 
 And quit: not wanting him, I shall want nothing. 
 
 Chor. Fathers are wont to lay up for their sons, 
 Thou for thy son art bent to lay out all ; 
 Sons wont to nurse their parents in old age, 
 Thou in old age carest how to nurse thy son, 
 Made older than thy age through eye-sight lost. 
 ^ Man. It shall be my delight to tend his eyes. 
 And view him sitting in the house, ennobled 
 With all those high exploits by him achieved, 
 And on his shoulders waving down those locks 
 That of a nation armed the strength contained ; 
 And I persuade me, God hath not permitted 
 His strength again to grow up with his hair, 
 Garrisoned round about him like a camp 
 Of faithful soldiery, were not his purpose 
 To use him further yet in some great service ; 
 Not to sit idle with so great a gift 
 Useless, and thence ridiculous, about him. 
 And since his strength with eye-sight was not lost, 
 Godwin restore him eye-sight to his strength. 
 
 Chor. Thy hopes are not ill-founded, nor seem vain. 
 Of bis delivery, and thy joy thereon 
 Conceived, agreeable to a father's love, 
 In both which we, as next, participate. 
 
 Man. I know your friendly minds and, — O what 
 noise ! — 
 Mercy of Heaven, what hideous noise was that 
 Horribly loud, unlike the former shout ? 
 
 Chor. Noise call you it, or universal groan, 
 As if the whole inhabitation perished ? 
 Blood, death, and death ful deeds, are in that noise, 
 Ruin, destruction of the utmost point. 
 
 Man. Of ruin, indeed, methoughtl heard the noise : 
 Oh ! it continues, they have slain my son. 
 
 Chor. Thy son is rather slaying them : that outcry 
 From slaughter of one foe could not ascend. 
 
 Man. Some dismal accident it needs must be ; 
 What shall we do, stay here or run and see ? 
 
 Chor. Best keep together here, lest, running thither, 
 We unawares run into danger's mouth. 
 This evil on the Philistines is fallen : 
 From whom could else a general cry be heard? 
 The sufferers then will scarce molest us here ; 
 From other hands we need not much to fear. 
 What if his eye-sight (for to Israel's God 
 Nothing is hard) by miracle restored. 
 He now be dealing dole among his foes. 
 And over heaps of slaughtered walk his way ? 
 
 Man. That were a joy presumptuous to be thought. 
 
 Chor. Yet God hath wrought things as incredible 
 For his people of old ; what hinders now ? 
 
 Man. He can, I know, but doubt to think he will ; 
 Yet hope would fain subscribe, and tempts belief. 
 A little stay will bring some notice hither. 
 . Chor. Of good or bad so great, of bad the sooner ; 
 /*For evil news rides post, while good news bates. 
 And to our wish I see one hither speeding. 
 An Hebrew, as I guess, and of our tribe. 
 
 Enter Messenger. 
 
 Mess. O whither shall I run, or which way fly 
 The sight of this so horrid spectacle. 
 Which erst my eyes beheld, and yet behold ? 
 For dire imagination still pursues me. 
 But Providence or instinct of nature seems. 
 Or reason though disturbed, and scarce consulted. 
 To have guided me aright, I know not how, 
 To thee first, reverend Manoah, and to these 
 My countrymen, whom here I knew remaining. 
 As at some distance from the place of horror. 
 Though in the sad event too much concerned. 
 
 Man. The accident was loud, and here before thee 
 With rueful cry, yet what it was we hear not ; 
 No preface needs, thou seest we long to know. 
 
 Mess. It would burst forth, but I recover breath 
 And sense distract, to know well what I utter. 
 
 Mail. Tell us the sum, the circumstance defer. 
 
 Mess. Gaza yet stands, but all her sons are fallen. 
 All in a moment overwhelmed and fallen. 
 
 Man. Sad, but thou knowest to Israelites not 
 saddest. 
 The desolation of a hostile city. 
 
 Mess. Feed on that first; there may in grief be 
 surfeit. 
 
 Man. Relate by whom. 
 
 Mess. By Samson. 
 
 Man. That still lessens 
 
 The soiTOw, and converts it nigh to joy. 
 
 Mess. Ah ! Manoah, I refrain too suddenly 
 To utter what will come at last too soon ; 
 licst evil tidings with too rude irruption 
 Hitting thy aged car should pierce too deep. 
 
 Man. Suspense in news is torture, speak them out. 
 
 Mrxs. Take thcti the worst in brief; Samson is 
 dead. 
 
SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 131 
 
 Man. The worst indeed : O all my hopes defeated 
 To free him hence ! but death, who sets all free, 
 Ifath paid his ransom now and full discharge. 
 What windy joy this day had I conceived 
 Hopeful of his delivery, which now proves 
 Abortive as the first-born bloom of spring- 
 Nipt with the lagg-ing- rear of winter's frost! 
 Yet ere I give the reins to grief, say first, 
 How died he ; death to life is crown or shame. 
 All by him fell, thou sayest ; by whom fell he ? 
 What glorious hand gave Samson his death's wound ? 
 
 Mess. Unwounded of his enemies he fell. 
 
 3Ian. Wearied with slaughter then, or how ? ex- 
 plain. 
 
 Mess. By his own hands. 
 
 Maji. Self-violence! what cause 
 
 Brought him so soon at variance with himself 
 Among his foes .'* 
 
 Mess. Inevitable cause 
 
 At once both to destroy, and be destroyed ; 
 The edifice where all were met to see him. 
 Upon their heads and on his own he pulled. 
 
 Ma)i. O lastly over-strong against thyself! 
 A dreadful way thou tookest to thy revenge. 
 More than enough we know ; but while tilings yet 
 Are in confusion, give us, if thou canst, 
 Eye-witness of what first or last was done, 
 Relation more particular and distinct. 
 
 Mess. Occasions drew me early to this city ; 
 And, as the gates I entered with sun-rise. 
 The morning trumpets festival proclaimed 
 Through each high street : little I had despatched. 
 When all abroad was rumoured that this day 
 Samson should be brought forth, to show the people 
 Proof of his mighty strength in feats and games; 
 I sorrowed at his captive state, but minded 
 Not to be absent at that spectacle. 
 The building was a spacious theatre 
 Half round, on two main pillars vaulted high. 
 With scats where all the lords, and each degree 
 Of sort, might sit in order to behold ; 
 The other side was open, where the throng 
 On banks and scafl^olds under sky might stand ; 
 I among these aloof obscurely stood. 
 The feast and noon grew high, and sacrifice 
 Had filled their hearts with mirth, high cheer, and 
 
 wine, 
 When to their sports they turned. Immediately 
 Was Samson as a public servant brought, 
 In their state livery clad ; before him pipes, 
 And timbrels, on each side went armed guards, 
 Both horse and foot, before him and behind 
 Archers and slingers, cataphracts and spears. 
 At sight of him the people with a shout 
 Rifted the air, clamouring their god with praise. 
 Who had made their dreadful enemy their thrall. 
 He, patient, but undaunted, where they led him, 
 Came to the place ; and what was set before him, 
 Which without help of eye might be assayed, 
 To heave, j)ull, draw, or break, he still performed 
 
 All with incredible, stupendous force; 
 K 2 
 
 None daring to appear antagonist. 
 
 At length for intermission's sake they led him 
 
 Between the pillars ; he his guide requested 
 
 (For so from such as nearer-stood we heard) 
 
 As over-tired to let him lean a while 
 
 With both his arms on those two massy pillars. 
 
 That to the arched roof gave main support. 
 
 He, unsuspicious, led him ; which when Samson 
 
 Felt in his arms, with head a while inclined, 
 
 And eyes fast fixed he stood as one, who prayed, 
 
 Or some great matter in his mind revolved : 
 
 At last with head erect thus cried aloud, 
 
 ' Hitherto, lords, what your commands imposed 
 
 I have performed, as reason was, obeying. 
 
 Not without wonder or delight beheld : 
 
 Now of my own accord such other trial 
 
 I mean to show you of my strength, yet greater. 
 
 As with amaze shall strike all who behold.' 
 
 This uttered, straining all his nerves, he bowed. 
 
 As, with the force of winds and waters pent. 
 
 When mountains tremble : those two massy pillars 
 
 With horrible convulsion to and fro 
 
 He tugged, he shook, till down they came, and drew 
 
 The whole roof after them, with burst of thunder 
 
 Upon the heads of all who sat beneath. 
 
 Lords, ladies, captains, counsellors, or priests, 
 
 Their choice nobility and flower, not only 
 
 Of this, but each Philistian city round. 
 
 Met from all parts to solemnize this feast. 
 
 Samson, with these immixed, inevitably 
 
 Pulled down the same destruction on himself; 
 
 The vulgar only 'scaped, who stood without. 
 
 Chor. O dearly bought revenge, yet glorious ! 
 Living or dying thou hast fulfilled 
 The work for which thou wast foretold 
 To Israel, and now liest victorious 
 Among thy slain self-killed, 
 Not willingly, but tangled in the fold 
 Of dire necessity, whose law in death conjoined 
 Thee with thy slaughtered foes, in number more 
 Than all thy life hath slain before. 
 
 1 Semichor. While their hearts were jocund 
 
 sublime. 
 Drunk with idolatry, drunk with wine, 
 And fat regorged of bulls and goats. 
 Chanting their idol, and preferring 
 Before our living Dread who dwells 
 In Silo, his bright sanctuary ; 
 Among them he a spirit of phrensy sent, 
 Who hurt their minds. 
 And urged them on with mad desire 
 To call in haste for their destroyer; 
 They, only set on sport and play, 
 Unweetingly importuned 
 
 Their own destruction to come speedy upon them. 
 So fond are mortal men, 
 Fallen into wrath divine, 
 As their own ruin on themselves to invite. 
 Insensate left, or to sense reprobate. 
 And with blindness internal struck. 
 
 2 Semichor. But he, though blind of sight, 
 
132 
 
 SAMSON AGONISTES. 
 
 Despised, and thought extinguished quite, 
 
 With inward eyes illuminated, 
 
 His fierj rirtue roused 
 
 From under ashes into sudden flame ; 
 
 And as an evening dragon came, 
 
 Assailant on the perched roosts 
 
 And nests in order ranged 
 
 Of tame viliatic fowl ; but as an eagle 
 
 His cloudless thunder bolted on their heads. 
 
 So virtue, given for lost. 
 
 Depressed, and overthrown, as seemed. 
 
 Like that self-begotten bird 
 
 In the Arabian woods embost. 
 
 That no second knows, nor third. 
 
 And lay erewhile a holocaust. 
 
 From out her ashy womb now teemed, 
 
 Revives, reflourishes, then vigorous most 
 
 When most unactive deemed ; 
 
 And though her body die, her fame survives, 
 
 A secular bird, ages of lives. 
 
 Man. Come, come ; no time for lamentation now, 
 Nor much more cause; Samson hath quit himself 
 Like Samson, and heroically hath finished 
 A life heroic, on his enemies 
 
 Fully revenged ; hath left them years of mourning, 
 And lamentation to the sons of Caphtor 
 Through all Philistian bounds, to Israel 
 Honour hath left, and freedom, let but them 
 Find courage to lay hold on this occasion ; 
 To himself and father's house eternal fame; 
 And, which is best and happiest yet, all this 
 With God not parted from him, as was feared. 
 But favouring and assisting to the end. 
 Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail 
 Or knock the breast ; no weakness, no contempt, 
 Dispraise, or blame ; nothing but well and fair. 
 
 And what may quiet us in a death so noble. 
 Let us go find the body where it lies 
 Soaked in his enemies' blood ; and from the stream. 
 With lavers pure, and cleansing herbs, wash off 
 The clotted gore. I, with what speed the while, 
 (Gaza is not in plight to say us nay,) 
 Will send for all ray kindred, all my frtends, 
 To fetch him hence, and solemnly attend 
 With silent obsequy, and funeral train. 
 Home to his father's house : there will I build him 
 A monument, and plant it round with shade 
 Of laurel ever green, and branching palm, 
 With all his trophies hung, and acts inroUed 
 In copious legend, or sweet lyric song. 
 Thither shall all the valiant 3'outh resort. 
 And from his memory inflame their breasts 
 To matchless valour, and adventures high : 
 The virgins also shall, on feastful days, 
 Visit his tomb with flowers ; only bewailing' 
 His lot unfortunate in nuptial choice. 
 From whence captivity and loss of eyes. 
 Chor. All is best, though we oft doubt 
 What the unsearchable dispose 
 Of highest Wisdom brings about, 
 And ever best found in the close. 
 Oft he seems to hide his face, 
 But unexpectedly returns. 
 And to his faithful champion hath in place 
 >. Bore witness gloriously; whence Gaza mourns, 
 And all that band them to resist 
 His uncontrollable intent ; 
 His servants he, with new acquist 
 Of true experience, from this great event. 
 With peace and consolation hath dismist, 
 And calm of mind, all passion spent. 
 
LYC ID AS. 
 
 Yet once more, 6 ye laurels, and once more, ^^- 
 Ye myrtles brown, with Wy nef^er sel'e, 
 I come to pluck your berries harsh and crude; 
 And, with forced fingers rude. 
 Shatter your leaves before the mellowing year. 
 Bitter constraint, and sad occasion dear. 
 Compels me to disturb your season due : 
 For Lycidas is dead, dead ere his prime, 
 Young Lycidas, and hath not left his peer : 
 Who would not sing for Lycidas ? he knew 
 Himself to sing, and build the lofty rhyme. 
 He must not float upon his watry bier 
 Unwept, and welter to the parching wind, 
 Without the meed of some melodious tear. 
 
 Begin, then, sisters of the sacred well, 
 That from beneath the seat of Jove doth spring; 
 Begin, and somewhat loudly sweep the string ; 
 Hence with denial vain, and coy excuse : 
 So may some gentle muse 
 With lucky words favour my destined urn ; 
 And, as he passes, turn. 
 And bid fair peace be to my sable shroud. 
 
 For we were nursed upon the self-same hill, 
 Fed the same flock by fountain, shade, and rill. 
 Together both, ere the high lawns appeared 
 Under the opening eye-lids of the mom. 
 We drove a-field, and both together heard 
 What time the gray fly winds her sultry horn, / , 
 Battening our flocks with the fresh dews of night. 
 Oft till the star, that rose at evening bright. 
 Toward heaven's descent had sloped his westering 
 
 wheel. 
 Meanwhile the rural ditties were not mute, 
 Tempered to the oaten flute ; 
 
 Rough Satyrs danced, and Fauns with cloven heel 
 From the glad sound would not be absent long ; 
 And old Damoetas loved to hear our song. 
 
 But, O the heavy change now thou art gone, 
 Now thou art gone, and never must return ! 
 Thee, shepherd, thee the woods, and desert caves, 
 With wild thyme and the gadding vine o'ergrown, 
 And all their echoes, mourn : 
 The willows, and the hazel copses green. 
 
 Shall now no more be seen 
 
 Fanning their joyous leaves to thy soft lays. 
 
 As killing as the canker to the rose, 
 
 Or taint-worm to the weanling herds that graze. 
 
 Or frost to flowers, that their gay wardrobe wear. 
 
 When first the white-thorn blows ; 
 
 Such, Lycidas, thy loss to shepherds' ear. 
 
 Where were ye, nymphs, when the remorseless 
 deep 
 Closed o'er the head of your loved Lycidas ? 
 For neither were ye playing on the steep. 
 Where your old bards, the famous Druids, lie, 
 Nor on the shaggy top of Mona high. 
 Nor yet where Deva spreads her wizard stream : 
 Ay me ! I fondly dream. 
 
 Had ye been there : for what could that have done? 
 What could the Muse herself that Orpheus bore, 
 The Muse herself, for her enchanting son, 
 Whom universal nature did lament. 
 When, by the rout that made the hideous roar, 
 His gory visage down the stream was sent, 
 Down the swift Hebrus to the Lesbian shore ? 
 
 Alas ! what boots it with incessant care 
 To tend the homely, slighted shepherd's trade, 
 And strictly meditate the thankless Muse ? 
 Were it not better done, as others use. 
 To sport with Amaryllis in the shade. 
 Or with the tangles of Neaera's hair .'* 
 Fame is the spur that the clear spirit doth raise 
 (That last infirmity of noble minds) 
 To scorn delights and live laborious days ; 
 But the fair guerdon when we hope to find. 
 And think to burst out into sudden blaze. 
 Comes the blind Fury with the abhorred sheare, \ 
 And slits the thin-spun life. ' But not the praise,' 
 Phoebus replied, and touched my trembling ears ; 
 ' Fame is no plant that grows on mortal soil. 
 Nor in the glistering foil 
 Set ofi"to the world, nor in broad rumour lies : 
 But lives and spreads aloft by those pure eyes, 
 And perfect witness of all judging Jove ; 
 As he pronounces lastly on each deed. 
 Of so much fame in heaven expect thy meed.' 
 
134 
 
 LYCIDAS 
 
 O fountain Aretlnisc, and thou lionoured flood, 
 Smooth-sliding' Mincius, crowned with vocal reeds! 
 That strain I heard was of a higher mood : 
 But now my oat proceeds, 
 And listens to the herald of the sea 
 That came in Neptune's plea ; 
 He asked the waves, and asked the felon winds. 
 What hard mishap hath doomed this pentle swain ? 
 And questioned every g'ust of ruj^ged wings, 
 That hlows from off each beaked promontory ; 
 They knew not of his story ; 
 And sage Hippotadcs their answer brings, 
 That not a blast was from his dungeon strayed : 
 Tlie air was calm, and on the level brine 
 Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. 
 It was that fatal and perfidious bark, 
 Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, 
 That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. 
 
 Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, 
 His mantle liairy, and his bonnet sedge, 
 Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 
 Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe. 
 • Ah ! who hath reft,' quoth he, ' my dearest pledge ?' 
 Last came, and last did go.' 
 The pilot of the Galilean lake : 
 Two massy keys he bore of metals twain, 
 (The golden opes, the iron shuts amain,) 
 He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake : 
 
 ' How well could I have spared for thee, young 
 swain, 
 Enow of such, as for their bellies' sake 
 Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold 
 Of other care tiiey little reckoning make. 
 Than how to scramble at the shearers' feast. 
 And shove away the worthy bidden guest ; 
 Blind mouths! that scarce themselves know how to 
 
 hold 
 A sheep-hook, or have learned aught else the least 
 That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs! 
 ^Vllat recks it them ? What need they .'' They are sped ; 
 And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs 
 Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw; 
 The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed. 
 But, swoln with wind and the rank mist they draw, 
 Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread : 
 Besides what the grim wolf with privy paw 
 Daily devours apace, and nothing fed : 
 But that two-handed engine at the door 
 Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more.' 
 
 Return, Alpheus, the dread voice is past. 
 That shrunk thy streams ; return, Sicilian Muse, 
 And call the vales, and bid them hither cast 
 Their bells and flowerets of a thousand hues. 
 Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use 
 Of shades, and wanton winds, and gushing brooks, 
 On whose fresh lap the swart star sparely looks ; 
 
 Throw hither all your quaint enamelled eyes. 
 That on the green turf suck the honeyed showers, 
 And purple all the ground with vernal flowers. 
 Bring the rathe primrose tiiat forsaken dies, 
 The tufted crow-toe, and pale jessamine. 
 The white pink, and the pansy freaked with jet, 
 The glowing violet. 
 
 The musk-rose, and the well-attired woodbine. 
 With cowslips wan that hang the pensive head. 
 And every flower that sad embroidery wears: 
 Bid amaranthus all his beauty shed. 
 And dafl^odillies fill their cups with tears. 
 To strew the laureat hearse where Lycid lies. 
 For, so to interpose a little ease, 
 Let our frail thoughts dally with false surmise; 
 Ay me ! whilst thee the shores and sounding seas 
 Wash far away, where'er thy bones are hurled, 
 Whether beyond the stormy Hebrides, 
 Where thou perhaps, under the whelming tide, 
 Visitest the bottom of the monstrous world ; 
 Or whether thou, to our moist vows denied, 
 Sleepest by the fable of Bellerus old. 
 Where the great vision of the guarded mount 
 Looks toward Namancos and Bayona's hold ; 
 Look homeward, angel, now, and melt with ruth: 
 And, O ye dolphins, waft the hapless youth. 
 
 Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no more, 
 For Lycidas your sorrow is not dead. 
 Sunk though he be beneath the watry floor ; 
 So sinks the day-star in the ocean bed. 
 And yet anon repairs his drooping head. 
 And tricks his beams, and with new-spangled ore 
 Flames in the forehead of the morning sky : 
 So Lycidas sunk low, but mounted high, 
 Through the dear might of Him that walked the 
 
 waves ; 
 Where, other groves and other streams- along, 
 With nectar pure his oozy locks he laves, 
 And hears the unexpressive nuptial song, 
 In the blest kingdoms meek of joy and love. 
 There entertain him all the saints above. 
 In solemn troops, and sweet societies, 
 That sing, and, singing, in their glory move. 
 And wipe ihe tears for ever from his eyes. 
 Now, Lycidas, the shepherds weep no more ; 
 Henceforth thou art the genius of the shore. 
 In thy large recompense, and shalt be good 
 To all that wander in that perilous flood. 
 
 Thus sang the uncouth swain to the oaks and rills. 
 While the still morn went out with sandals gray; 
 He touched the tender stops of various quills. 
 With eager thought warbling his Doric lay : 
 And now the sun had stretched out all the hills. 
 And now was dropt into the western bay : 
 At last he rose, and twitched his mantle blue : 
 To-morrow to fresh woods, and pastures new. 
 
 # 
 
L'ALLEGRO. 
 
 135 
 
 L'ALLEGRO. 
 
 rl^vJL- 
 
 Hence, loathed Melancholy, 
 Of Cerberus and blackest midnight born, 
 [n Stygian cave forlorn, 
 
 'Mongst horrid shapes, and shrieks, and sights 
 unholy ! 
 rind out some uncouth cell. 
 
 Where brooding Darkness spreads his jealous 
 wings, 
 lAnd the nigfat-raren sings ; 
 
 There under ebon shades, and low-browed rocks, 
 lAs ragged as thy lucks, 
 
 In dark Cimmerian desert ever dwell. U > 
 
 But come, thou goddess fair and free 
 In heaven jcleped Euphrosyne, 
 And by men, heart-easing IVJirth ; i 
 Whom lovely Venus, at a birth. 
 With two sister Graces more. 
 To ivy -crowned Bacchus bore : 
 Or whether (as some sager sing) 
 The frolic wind that breathes the spring. 
 Zephyr, with Aurora playing. 
 As he met her once a-Maying; 
 There on beds of violets blue, 
 And fresh-blown roses washed in dew. 
 Filled her with thee a daughter fair, 
 So buxom, blithe, and debonair. 
 
 Haste thee, nymph, and bring with thee 
 Jest, and youthful jollity, 
 Quips, and cranks, and wanton wiles. 
 Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles. 
 Such as hang on Hebe's cheek. 
 And love to live in dimple sleek ; 
 Sport that wrinkled Care derides, 
 And Laughter holding both his sides. 
 Come, and trip it, as you go. 
 On the light fantastic toe ; 
 And in thy right hand lead with thee 
 The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty ; 
 And, if I give thee honour due, 
 Mirth, admit me of thy crew, 
 To live with her, and live with l^ee, I Aa^. 
 
 In unreproved pleasures free ; In. ^-^ ' iiS^.^ V v 
 To hear the lark begin his flight, " f'l- .^ro/-^_^ 
 And singing startle the dull night, " ^^'^ i, ^,y^ 
 From his watch-tower in the skies, 
 Till the dappled dawn doth rise ; 
 Then to come, in spite of sorrow. 
 And at my window bid good-morrow. 
 Through the sweet-briar, or the vine, 
 Or the twisted eglantine : 
 While the cock, with lively din. 
 Scatters the rear of darkness thin, 
 And to the stack, or the barn-door, 
 
 
 Stoutly struts his dames before : 
 Oft listening how the hounds and horn 
 Cheerly rouse the slumbering- morn, 
 From the side of some hoar hill, 
 Through the high wood echoing shrill. 
 
 Sometimes walking, not unseen. 
 By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green. 
 Right against the eastern gate 
 Where the great sun begins his state. 
 Robed in flames, and amber light, 
 The clouds in thousand liveries dight ; 
 While tiie ploughman, near at hand, 
 Whistles o'er the furrowed land, 
 And the milkmaid singeth blithe. 
 And the mower whets his scythe, 
 And every shepherd tells his tale. 
 Under the hawthorn in the dale. 
 
 Straight mine eye hath caught new pleasures, 
 While the landscape round it measures ; 
 Russet lawns, and fallows gray, 
 Where the nibbling flocks do stray ; 
 Mountains, on whose barren breast 
 The labouring clouds do often rest ; 
 Meadows trim with daisies pied. 
 Shallow brooks, and rivers wide; 
 Towers and battlements it sees 
 Bosomed high in tufted trees. 
 Where perhaps some beauty lies, 
 The cynosure of neighbouring eyes. 
 
 Hard by, a cottage chimney smokes 
 From betwixt two aged oaks. 
 Where Corydon and Thyrsis, met 
 Are at their savoury dinner set 
 Of herbs, and other country messes. 
 Which the neat-handed Phillis dresses ; . 
 And then in baste her bower she leaves, 
 With Thestylis to bind the sheaves ; 
 Or, if the earlier season lead. 
 To the tanned haycock in the mead. 
 
 Sometimes with secure delight ysP^ 
 
 The upland hamlets will invite, 
 When the merry bells ring round. 
 And the jocund rebecks sound 
 To many a youth and many a maid. 
 Dancing in the checkered shade ; 
 And young and old come forth to play 
 On a sun-shine holy-day, 
 Till the live-long day-light fail : 
 Then to the spicy nut-brown ale. 
 With stories told of many a feat, ^ •_jvi5'^^'*^ 
 How faery Mab the junkets eat; "V-* 
 She was pinched, and pulled, she said ; 
 And he, by friar's lantern led. 
 
 X 
 
136 
 
 IL PENSEROSO. 
 
 Tells how the drudging^ g'oblin sweat 
 To earn his cream -bowl duly set, 
 When in one night, ere glimpse of morn, 
 His shadowy flail hath threshed the corn, 
 That ten day-labourers could not end ; \a \ ^ 
 Then lies him down the lubber liend, (y^J^ 
 And, stretched out all the chimney's length, 
 Basks at the fire his hairy strength ; 
 And crop-full out of door he flings. 
 Ere the first cock his matin rings. 
 Thus done the tales, to bed they creep. 
 By whispering winds soon lulled asleep. 
 
 Towered cities please us then, 
 And the busy hum of men. 
 Where throngs of knights and barons bold. 
 In weeds of peace high triumphs hold, 
 With store of ladies, whose bright eyes 
 Rain influence, and judge the prize 
 Of wit or arms, while both contend 
 To win her grace, whom all commend. 
 There let Hymen oft appear 
 In saffron robe, with taper clear. 
 And pomp, and feast, and revelry. 
 With masque and antique pageantry ; 
 
 Such sights as youthful poets dream 
 On summer eves by haunted stream. 
 Then to the well-trod stage anon. 
 If Jonson's learned sock be on, 
 Or sweetest Sbakspeare, Fancy's child. 
 Warble his native wood-notes wild. 
 
 And ever, against eating cares, 
 Lap me in soft Lydian airs, 
 Married to immortal verse ; 
 Such as the meeting soul may pierce, 
 Jn notes, with many a winding bout 
 Of linked sweetness long drawn out. 
 With wanton heed and giddy cunning ; 
 The melting voice through mazes running, 
 Untwisting all the chains that tie 
 The hidden soul of harmony ; 
 That Orpheus' self may heave his head 
 From golden slumber on a bed 
 Of heaped Elysian flowers, and hear 
 Such strains as would have won the ear 
 Of Pluto, to have quite set free 
 His half regained Eurydice. 
 
 These delights if thou canst give, 
 Mirth, with thee I mean to live. 
 
 IL PENSEROSO.^ 
 
 "■^ 
 
 Hence, vain deluding joys. 
 The brood of Folly without father bred ! 
 How little you bested. 
 
 Or fill the fi.xed mind with all your toys ! 
 Dwell in some idle brain, 
 
 And fancies fond with gaudy shapes possess, 
 As thick and numberless 
 As the gay motes that people the sunbeams ; 
 Or likest hovering dreams, 
 
 The fickle pensioners of Morpheus' train. 
 But hail, thou goddess sage and holy, 
 Hjil divinest Melancholy ! 
 Whose saintly visage is too bright 
 To hit the sense of human sight, 
 And therefore to our weaker view 
 O'erlaid with black, staid Wisdom's hue ; 
 Black, but such as in esteem 
 Prince Memnon's sister might beseem, 
 Or that starred Ethiop queen that strove 
 To set her beauty's praise above 
 The sea-nymphs, and their powers offended ; 
 Yet thou art higher far descended : 
 Thee bright-haired Vesta, long of yore, 
 To solitary Saturn bore ; 
 His daughter she; in Saturn's reign 
 Such mixture was not held a stain : 
 Oft in glimmering bowers and glades 
 
 He met her, and in secret shades 
 Of woody Ida's inmost grove. 
 Whilst yet there was no fear of Jove. 
 
 Come, pensivejiun, devout and pure, 
 Sober, steadfast, and demure. 
 All in a robe of darkest grain. 
 Flowing with majestic train. 
 And sable stole of cypress lawn, 
 Over thy decent shoulder drawn. 
 Come, but keep thy wonted state 
 With even step, and musing gait; 
 And looks commercing with the skies, 
 Thy rapt soul sitting in thine eyes : 
 There, held in holy passion still, 
 Forget thyself to marble, till 
 With a sad leaden downward cast 
 Thou fix them on the earth as fast : 
 And join with thee calm P£atfg,.^d Quiet, 
 Spare Fast, that oft with gods doth dietj 
 And hears the Muses in a riiffjf 
 Aye round about Jove's altar sing : 
 And add to these retired Leisure, 
 That in trim gardens takes his pleasure. 
 But first, and chiefest, with thee bring. 
 Him that yon soars on golden wing, 
 Guiding the fiery-wheeled throne, 
 The cherub Contemplation ; 
 
TL PENSEROSO. 
 
 137 
 
 And the mute SUeuce hist along, 
 
 'Less Philomel will deig'n a song'. 
 
 In her sweetest saddest plig'ht, 
 
 Smoothing' the rugged brow of Night, 
 
 While Cynthia checks her dragon yoke. 
 
 Gently o'er the accustomed oak : 
 
 Sweet bird, that shunnest the noise of folly, 
 
 Most musical, most melancholy ! 
 
 Thee, chantress, oft the woods among, 
 
 I woo, to hear thy even-song ; 
 
 And, missing thee, I walk unseen 
 
 On the dry smooth-shaven green, 
 
 To behold the wandering moon, 
 
 Riding near her highest noon. 
 
 Like one that had been led astray 
 
 Through the heaven's wide pathless way ; 
 
 And oft, as if her head she bowed. 
 
 Stooping through a fleecy cloud. 
 
 Oft, on a plat of rising ground, 
 I hear the far-off curfeu sound. 
 Over some wide watered shore, 
 Swinging slow with sullen roar : 
 Or, if the air will not permit. 
 Some still removed place will fit. 
 Where glowing embers through the room 
 Teach light to counterfeit a gloom ; 
 Far from all resort of mirth. 
 Save the cricket on the hearth. 
 Or the belman's drowsy charm, 
 To bless the doors from nightly harm. 
 
 Or let my lamp, at midnight hour, 
 Be seen in some high lonely tower. 
 Where I may oft out-watch the Bear, 
 With thrice-great Hermes, or unsphere 
 The spirit of Plato, to unfold 
 What worlds or what vast regions hold 
 The immortal mind that hath forsook 
 Her mansion in this fleshly nook : 
 And of those demons that are found 
 In fire, air, flood, or under ground, 
 Whose power hath a true consent 
 With planet or with element. 
 Sometime let gorgeous Xf^g^dy 
 In sceptered pall come sweeping by, 
 Presenting Thebes, or Pelops' line, 
 Or the tale of Troy divine ; 
 Or what (though rare) of later age 
 Ennobled hath the buskined stage. 
 
 But, O sad virgin, that thy power 
 Might raise Musaeus from his bower ! 
 Or bid the soul of Orpheus sing 
 Such notes as, warbled to the string, 
 Drew iron tears down Pluto's cheek. 
 And made hell grant what love did seek ; 
 Or call up him that left half-told 
 The story of Cambuscan bold. 
 Of Camball, and of Algarsife, 
 And who had Can ace to wife. 
 That owned the virtuous ring and glass ; 
 And of the wondrous horse of brass, 
 On which the Tartar kinsT did ride : 
 
 And if aught else great bards beside ; 
 In sage and solemn tunes have sung, 
 Of turneys, and of trophies hung. 
 Of forests, and enchantments drear, 
 Where more is meant than meets the ear. 
 
 Thus, Night, oft see me in thy pale career, 
 Till civil-suited morn appear, 
 Not tricked and frounced as she was wont 
 With the Attic boy to hunt. 
 But kercheft in a comely cloud. 
 While rocking winds are piping loud. 
 Or ushered with a shower still. 
 When the gust hath blown his fill. 
 Ending on the rustling leaves. 
 With minute drops from off" the eaves. 
 And, when the sun begins to fling 
 His flaring beams, me, goddess, bring 
 To arched walks of twilight groves. 
 And shadows brown, that Sylvan loves. 
 Of pine, or monumental oak, 
 Where the rude axe, with heaved stroke. 
 Was never heard the nymphs to daunt. 
 Or fright them from their hallowed haunt. 
 There in close covert by some brook. 
 Where no profaner eye may look. 
 Hide nie from day's garish eye. 
 While the bee with honeyed thigh. 
 That at her flowery work doth sing. 
 And the waters murmuring. 
 With such concert as they keep, 
 Entice the dewy-feathered sleep ; 
 And let some strange mysterlous'dream 
 Wave at his wings in aery stream 
 Of lively portraiture displayed. 
 Softly on my eyelids laid. 
 And, as I wake, sweet music breathe 
 Above, about, or underneath. 
 Sent by some spirit to mortals good, 
 Or the unseen genius of the wood. 
 
 But let my due feet never fail 
 To walk the studious rlniirtfr'^ pale, 
 And love the high-embowed roof. 
 With antique pillars massy proof. 
 And storied windows richly dight, 
 Casting a dim religious light : 
 There let the pealing organ blow. 
 To the full-voiced quire below. 
 In service high and anthems clear. 
 As may with sweetness, through mine ear, 
 Dissolve me into ecstasies. 
 And bring all heaven before mine eyes. 
 
 And may at last my weary age 
 Find out the peaceful hermitage. 
 
 The hairy gown and mossy cell^ 
 
 Where I may sit anJ^rlghHyspell 
 Of every star that heaven doth shew. 
 And every herb that sips the dew ; 
 Till old experience do attain 
 To something like prophetic strain. 
 
 These pleasures. Melancholy, give. 
 And I with thee will choose to live. 
 
138 
 
 ARCADES. 
 
 ARCADES, 
 
 PART OF A MASK, 
 
 Or Entertainment presented to the Countess Dowager of Derby, at Harefield, by some noble persons of her 
 family ; who appear on the scene in pastoral habit , moving toward the seat of state with this song : 
 
 I. SONG. 
 
 liOOK, nymphs, and shepherds, look^ 
 What sudden blaze of majesty 
 Is that which we from hence descry, 
 Too divine to be mistook : 
 
 This, this is she 
 To whom our vows and wishes bend : 
 Here our solemn search hath end. 
 
 Fame, that, her high worth to raise, 
 Seemed erst so lavish and profuse, 
 We may justly now accuse 
 Of detraction from her praise ; 
 
 Less than half we find exprest. 
 
 Envy bid conceal the rest. 
 
 Mark, what radiant state she spreads, 
 In circle round her shining' throne. 
 Shooting her beams like silver threads ; 
 This, this is she alone. 
 
 Sitting like a goddess bright, 
 
 In the center of her light. 
 
 Might she the wise Latona be, 
 Or the towered Cybele, 
 Mother of a hundred gods? 
 Juno dares not give her odds : 
 
 Who had thought this clime had held 
 
 A deity so unparalleled P 
 
 A» they come forward, the Genius of the wood appears, 
 and turning towards them speaks : 
 
 Genius. 
 Stay, gentle swains ; for though in this disguise, 
 I see bright honour sparkle through your eyes ; 
 Of famous Arcady ye are, and sprung 
 Of that renowned flood, so often sung. 
 Divine Alpheus, who by secret sluice 
 Stole under seas to meet his Arethusc ; 
 And ye, the breathing roses of the wood, 
 Fair sUver-buskined nymphs, as great and good ; 
 I know, this quest of yours, and free intent. 
 
 Was all in honour and devotion meant 
 
 To the great mistress of yon princely shrine, 
 
 Whom with low reverence I adore as mine ; 
 
 And, with all helpful service, will comply 
 
 To further this night's glad solemnity ; 
 
 And lead ye, where ye may more near behold 
 
 What shallow-searching Fame hath left untold; 
 
 Which I full oft, amidst these shades alone, 
 
 Have sat to wonder at, and gaze upon : 
 
 For know, by lot from Jove I am the power 
 
 Of this fair wood, and live in oaken bower, 
 
 To nurse the saplings tall, and curl the grove 
 
 With ringlets quaint, and wanton windings wove. 
 
 And all my plants I save from nightly ill 
 
 Of noisome winds, and blasting vapours chill: 
 
 And from the boughs brush off the evil dew, 
 
 And heal the harms of thwarting thunder blue, 
 
 Or what the cross dire-looking planet smites. 
 
 Or hurtful worm with cankered venom bites. 
 
 When evening gray doth rise, I fetch my round 
 
 Over the mount, and all this hallowed ground ; 
 
 And early, ere the odorous breath of morn 
 
 Awakes the slumbering leaves, or tasseled horn 
 
 Shakes the high thicket, haste I all about. 
 
 Number my ranks, and visit every sprout 
 
 With puissant words, and murmurs made to bless. 
 
 But else in deep of night, when drowsiness 
 
 Hath locked up mortal sense, then listen I 
 
 To the celestial Syrens' harmony. 
 
 That sit upon the nine infolded spheres. 
 
 And sing to those that hold the vital shears. 
 
 And turn the adamantine spindle round. 
 
 On which the fate of gods and men is wound. 
 
 Such sweet compulsion doth in music lie. 
 
 To lull the daughters of necessity, 
 
 And keep unsteady nature to her law. 
 
 And the low world in measured motion draw 
 
 After the heavenly tune, which none can hear, 
 
 Of human mould, with gross unpurged ear; 
 
 And yet such music worthiest were to blaze 
 
 The peerless highth of her immortal praise. 
 
 Whose lustre leads us, and for her most fit. 
 
 If my inferior hand or voice could hit 
 
 Inimitable sounds : yet, as we go, 
 
 Wbate'er the skill of lesser gods can show, 
 
 
ARCADES. 
 
 139 
 
 I will assay, her worth to celebrate, 
 And so attend ye toward her glittering state ; 
 Where ye may all, that are of noble stem, 
 Approach, and kiss her sacred vesture's hem. 
 
 II. SONG. 
 
 O'er the smooth enamelled green 
 ^here no print of step hath been 
 Follow me, as I sing 
 And touch the warbled string, 
 Jnder the shady roof 
 )f branching elm star-proof. 
 
 Follow me ; 
 will bring you where she sits, 
 /lad in splendour as befits 
 
 Her deity. 
 Such a rural queen 
 All Arcadia hath not seen. 
 
 III. SONG. 
 
 Nymphs and shepherds, dance no more 
 By sandy Ladon's lilied banks ; 
 On old Lycffius, or Cyllene hoar 
 Trip no more in twilight ranks ; 
 Though Erymanth your loss deplore, 
 
 A better soil shall give ye thanks. 
 From the stony Maenalus 
 Bring your flocks, and live with us; 
 Here ye shall have greater grace, 
 To serve the lady of this place. 
 Though Syrinx your Pan's mistress were, 
 Yet Syrinx well might wait on her. 
 
 Such a rural queen 
 
 All Arcadia hath not seen. 
 
C O M U S, 
 
 A MASK, 
 PRESENTED AT LUDLOW CASTLE, 1634, 
 
 BEFORE 
 
 JOHN, EARL OF BRIDGEWATER, 
 THEN PRESIDENT OF WALES. 
 
 THE PERSONS. 
 
 The Attendant Spirit, afterwards in the 
 
 habit of Thyrsis. 
 Comus, with his crew. 
 The Lady. 
 
 First Brother. 
 Second Brother, 
 Sabritia, the Nymph. 
 
 Tlie chie/" persons who presented, were 
 
 The Lord Brackley. 
 
 Mr. Thomas Egferton, his brother. 
 
 The Lady Alice Egerton. 
 
 The first Scene discovers a wild wood. 
 The Attendant Spirit descends or enters. 
 
 Before the starry threshold of Jove's court 
 My mansion is, where those immortal shapes 
 Of brig'ht aereal spirits live insphered 
 In regions mild of calm and serene air, 
 Above the smoke and stir of this dim spot, 
 Which men call earth ; and, with low-thou^hted care 
 Confined and pestered in this pinfold here, 
 Strive to keep up a frail and feverish being, 
 Unmindful of the crown that virtue gives, 
 After this mortal change, to her true servants, 
 Amongst the enthroned gods on sainted seats. 
 Yet some there be, that by due steps aspire 
 To lay their just hands on that golden key. 
 That opes the palace of eternity : 
 To such my errand is ; and, but for such, 
 I would not soil these pure ambrosial weeds 
 With the rank vapours of this sin-worn mould. 
 But to my task. Neptune, besides the sway 
 Of every salt flood, and each ebbing stream. 
 Took in by lot 'twixt high and nether Jove 
 Imperial rule of all the sea-girt isles, 
 
 That, like to rich and various gems, inlay 
 The unadorned bosom of the deep : 
 Which he, to grace his tributary gods, 
 By course commits to several government. 
 And gives them leave to wear their sapphire crowns. 
 And wield their little tridents : but this isle. 
 The greatest and the best of all the main. 
 He quarters to his blue-haired deities; 
 And all this tract that fronts the falling sun 
 A noble peer of mickle trust and power 
 Has in his charge, with tempered awe to guide 
 An old and haughty nation, proud in arms : 
 Where his fair offspring, nursed in princely lore, 
 Are coming to attend their father's state. 
 And new-instructed scepter : but their way 
 Lies through the perplexed paths of this drear wood, 
 I The nodding horror of whose shady brows 
 
 Threats the forlorn and wandering passenger : 
 , And here their tender age might suffer peril, 
 \ But that by quick command from sovran Jove 
 \ I was dispatched for their defence and guard : 
 And listen why; for I will tell you now 
 What never yet was heard in tale or song, 
 From old or modem bard, in hall or bower. 
 
COMUS. 
 
 141 
 
 Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape 
 Crushed the sweet poison of misused wine, 
 After the Tuscan mariners transformed, 
 Coasting- the Tyrrhene shore, as the winds listed. 
 On Circe's island fell (who knows not Circe, 
 The daug-hter of the Sun ? whose charmed cup 
 Whoever tasted, lost his upright shape. 
 And downward fell into a grovelling' swine) : 
 This nymph, that gazed upon his clustering locks 
 With ivy berries wreathed, and his blithe youth, 
 Had by him, ere he parted thence, a son 
 Much like his father, but his mother more. 
 Whom therefore she brought up, and Coraus named : 
 Who, ripe and frolic of his full-grown age, 
 Roving the Celtic and Iberian fields, 
 At last betakes him to this ominous wood ; 
 /Apd, in thick shelter of black shades imbowered, 
 Excels his mother at her mighty art, 
 Offering to every weary traveller 
 His orient liquor in a crystal glass, 
 To quench the drought of Phoebus ; which as they 
 
 taste, 
 (For most do taste through fond intemperate thirst,) 
 Soon as the potion works, their human countenance, 
 The express resemblance of the gods, is changed 
 Into some brutish form of wolf or bear. 
 Or ounce, or tiger, hog, or bearded goat, 
 All other parts remaining as they were; 
 And they, so perfect is their misery, 
 Not once perceive their foul disfigurement, 
 But boast themselves more comely than before, 
 And all their friends and native home forget, 
 To roll with pleasure in a sensual sty. 
 Therefore when any, favoured of high Jove, 
 Chances to pass through this adventurous glade, 
 Swift as the sparkle of a glancing star 
 I shoot from heaven to give him safe convoy, 
 As now I do : but first I must put off 
 These my sky-robes spun out of Iris' woof, 
 And take the woods and likeness of a swain 
 That to the service of this house belongs, 
 Who with his soft pipe, and smooth-dittied song. 
 Well knows to still the wild winds when they roar, 
 And hush the waving weeds; nor of less faith, 
 And in this office of his mountain watch 
 Likeliest, and nearest to the present aid 
 Of this occasion. But I hear the tread 
 Of hateful steps; I must be viewless now. 
 
 Comus enters with a charming-rod tn one hand, his 
 fflass in the other ; with him a rout of monsters, 
 headed like sundry sorts of wild beasts, but otherwise 
 like men and women, their apparel glistering ; they 
 come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with 
 torches in their hands. 
 
 Comus. 
 
 The star that bids the shepherd fold 
 Now the top of heaven doth hold ; 
 And the gilded car of day 
 His glowing axle doth allay 
 
 In the steep Atlantic stream ; 
 
 And the slope sun his upward beam 
 
 Shoots against the dusky pole, 
 
 Pacing towards the other goal 
 
 Of his chamber in the east. 
 
 Meanwhile, welcome joy, and feast, 
 
 Midnight shout and revelry, 
 
 Tipsy dance, and jollity. 
 
 Braid your locks with rosy twine 
 
 a)ropping odours, dropping wine. 
 jT Rigour now is gone to bed, 
 '/'And advice with scrupulous head, 
 
 Strict age and sour severity. 
 
 With their grave saws, in slumber lie. 
 
 We, that are of purer fire, 
 
 Imitate the starry quire. 
 
 Who in their nightly watchful spheres, 
 
 Lead in swift round the months and years. 
 
 The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove, 
 
 Now to the moon in wavering morrice move ; 
 
 And on the tawny sands and shelves. 
 
 Trip the pert faeries and the dapper elves ; 
 
 By dimpled brook and fountain-brim. 
 
 The wood-nymphs, decked with daisies trim, 
 
 Their merry wakes and pastimes keep ; 
 
 What hath night to do with sleep .•* 
 
 Night hath better sweets to prove, xK. 
 
 Venus now wakes, and wakens Love. 
 
 Come, let us our rites begin ; 
 
 'Tis only day-light that makes sin. 
 
 Which these dun shades will ne'er report. 
 
 Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport. 
 
 Dark-veiled Cotytto ! to whom the secret flame 
 
 Of midnight torches burns ; mysterious dame, 
 
 That ne'er art called, but when the dragon womb 
 
 Of Stygian darkness spits her thickest gloom. 
 
 And makes one blot of all the air; 
 
 Stay thy cloudy ebon chair. 
 
 Wherein thou ridest with Hecat', and befriend 
 
 Us thy vowed priests, till utmost end 
 
 Of all thy dues be done, and none left out; 
 
 Ere the blabbing eastern scout. 
 
 The nice morn, on the Indian steep 
 
 From her cabined loop-hole peep, 
 
 And to the tell-tale sun descry 
 
 Our concealed solemnity. 
 
 Come, knit hands, and beat the ground 
 
 In a light fantastic round. 
 
 The Measure. 
 
 Break off, break off, I feel the different pace 
 
 Of some chaste footing near about this ground. 
 
 Run to your shrouds, within these brakes and trees; 
 
 Our number may affright : some virgin sure 
 
 (For so I can distinguish by mine art) 
 
 Benighted in these woods. Now to my charms, 
 
 And to my wily trains : I shall ere long 
 
 Be well stocked with as fair a herd as grazed 
 
 About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl 
 
 My dazzling spells into the spungy air, 
 
 Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion, 
 
142 
 
 COMUS. 
 
 And give it false presentmeuts, lest the place 
 
 And my quaint habits breed astonishment, 
 
 And put the damsel to suspicious flight ; 
 
 Which must not be, for that's against my course: 
 
 I, under fair pretence of friendly ends, 
 
 And well-placed words of glozing courtesy 
 
 Baited with reasons not unplausible, 
 
 Wind me into the easy-hearted man, 
 
 And hug him into snares. When once her eye 
 
 Hath met the virtue of this magic dust, 
 
 I shall appear some harmless villager. 
 
 Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear. 
 
 But here she comes; I fairly step aside, 
 
 And hearken, if I may, her business here. 
 
 The Lady enters. 
 
 Lady. This way the noise was, if mine ear be true, 
 My best guide now : methought it was the sound 
 Of riot and ill-managed merriment, /^y 
 
 Such as the jocund flute, or gamesome pipe, ^, "■ 
 Stirs up among the loose unlettered hinds, \ ' " 
 When for their teeming flocks, and granges full, 
 In wanton dance they praise the bounteous Pan, 
 And thank the gods amiss. I should be loth 
 To meet the rudeness, and swilled insolence, 
 Of such late wassailers; yetO! where else 
 Shall I inform my unacquainted feet 
 In the blind mazes of this tangled wood .'' 
 My brothers, when they saw me wearied out 
 With this long way, resolving here to lodge 
 Under the spreading favour of these pines, 
 Stept, as they said, to the next thicket-side, 
 To bring me berries, or such cooling fruit 
 As the kind hospitable woods provide. 
 They left me then, when the gray -hooded even, 
 Like a sad votarist in palmer's weed, 
 Rose from the hindmost wheels of Phoebus' wain. 
 But where they are, and why they came not back, 
 Is now the labour of my thoughts ; 'tis likeliest 
 They had engaged their wandering steps too far; 
 And envious darkness, ere they could return, 
 Had stole them from me : else, thievish night, 
 Why shouldst thou, but for some felonious end, 
 In thy dark lantern thus close up the stars, 
 That nature hung in heaven, and filled their lamps 
 With everlasting oil, to give due light 
 To the misled and lonely traveller ? 
 This is the place, as well as I may guess, 
 Whence even now the tumult of loud mirth 
 Was rife, and perfect in my listening ear; 
 Yet nought but single darkness do I find. 
 What might this be? A thousand fantasies 
 Begin to throng into my memory. 
 Of calling shapes, and beckoning shadows dire. 
 And aery tongues that syllable men's names 
 On sands, and shores, and desert wildernesses. 
 These thoughts may startle well, but not astound, 
 The virtuous mind, that ever walks attended 
 By a strong siding champion, conscience. 
 O welcome, pure-eyed faith, white-handed hope. 
 Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings, 
 
 And thou, unblemished form of chastity ! 
 
 I see ye visibly, and now believe 
 
 That he, the Supreme Good, to whom all things ill 
 
 Are but as slavish officers of vengeance. 
 
 Would send a glistering guardian, if need were, 
 
 To keep my life and honour unassailcd. 
 
 Was I deceived, or did a sable cloud "^ 
 
 Turn forth her silver lining on the night.'. 
 
 I did not err, there does a sable cloud 
 
 Turn forth her silver lining on the night,^ 
 
 And casts a gleam over this tufted grove : 
 
 I cannot halloo to my brothers, but 
 
 Such noise as I can make to be heard farthest 
 
 I '11 venture ; for my new-enlivened spirits 
 
 Prompt me ; and they perhaps are not far off. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Sweet Echo, sweetest nymph, that livest unseen 
 Within thy aery shell. 
 By slow Meander's margent green. 
 And in the violet-embroidered vale. 
 
 Where the love-lorn nightingale 
 Nightly to thee her sad song mourneth well : 
 Canst thou not tell me of a gentle pair 
 That likest thy Narcissus are ? 
 O, if thou have 
 Hid them in some flowery cave. 
 Tell me but where. 
 Sweet queen of parley, daughter of the sphere! 
 So mayest thou be translated to the skies. 
 And give resounding grace to all heaven's harmonies. 
 
 Enter Comus. 
 
 Comus. Can any mortal mixture of earth's.raould 
 Breathe such divine enchanting ravishment ? 
 Sure something holy lodges in that breast. 
 And with these raptures moves the vocal air 
 To testify his hidden residence. 
 How sweetly did they float upon the wings 
 Of silence through the empty-vaulted night. 
 At every fall smoothing the raven-down 
 Of darkness, till it smiled ! I have oft heard 
 My mother Circe with the Syrens three. 
 Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades, 
 Culling their potent herbs and baleful drugs ; 
 Who, as they sung, would take the prisoned soul. 
 And lap it in Elysium : Scylla wept. 
 And chid her barking waves into attention, 
 And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause : 
 Yet they in pleasing slumber lulled the sense. 
 And in sweet madness robbed it of itself; 
 But such a sacred and home-felt delight. 
 Such sober certainty of waking bliss, 
 I never heard till now. I'll speak to her. 
 And she shall be my queen. Hail, foreign wonder! 
 Whom certain these rough shades did never breed. 
 Unless the goddess that in rural shrine 
 Dwellest here with Pan, or Sylvan, by blest song 
 Forbidding every bleak unkindly fog 
 To touch the prosperous growth of this tall wood. 
 
COMUS. 
 
 143 
 
 Lady. Nay, gentle sheplicrd, ill is lost that praise 
 I hat is addressed to unattending ears; 
 Not any boast of skill, but extreme shift 
 How to regain my severed company. 
 Compelled me to awake the courteous Echo 
 To give me answer from her mossy couch. 
 
 Comus. What chance, good lady, hath bereft you 
 thus? 
 
 Ladij. Dim darkness, and this leafy labyrinth. 
 
 Camus. Could that divide you from near-ushering 
 guides ? 
 
 Lady. They left me weary on a grassy turf. 
 
 Comus. By falsehood, or discourtesy, or why ? 
 
 Lady. To seek i' the valley some cool friendly 
 spring. 
 
 Comus. And left your fair side all unguarded, lady? 
 
 Lady. They were but twain, and purposed quick 
 return. 
 
 Comus. Perhaps forestalling night prevented them. 
 
 Lady. How easy my misfortune is to hit ! 
 
 Comus. Imports their loss, beside the present need ? 
 
 Lady. No less than if I should my brothers lose. 
 
 Comus. Were they of manly prime, or youthful 
 bloom ? 
 
 Lady. As smooth as Hebe's their unrazored lips. 
 
 Comus. Two such I saw, what time the laboured ox 
 In his loose traces from the furrow came. 
 And the swinked hedger at his supper sat ; 
 I saw them under a green mantling vine. 
 That crawls along the side of yon small hill. 
 Plucking ripe clusters from the tender shoots. 
 Their port was more than human as they stood : 
 I took it for a faery vision 
 Of some gay creatures of the element 
 That in tiie colours of the rainbow live, 
 And play i' the plighted clouds. I was awe-struck. 
 And, as I past, I worshipt ; if those you seek, 
 It were a journey like the path to heaven. 
 To help you find them. 
 
 Lady. Gentle villager. 
 
 What readiest way would bring nie to that place? 
 
 Comits. Due west it rises from this shrubby point. 
 
 Lady. To find out that, good shepherd, I suppose. 
 In such a scant allowance of star-light. 
 Would overtask the best land-pilot's art, 
 Without the sure guess of well-practised feet. 
 
 Comus. I knftw each lane, and every alley green. 
 Dingle, or busby dell, of this wild wood, 
 And every bosky bourn from side to side, 
 My daily walks and ancient neighbourhood ; 
 And if your stray attendants be yet lodged. 
 Or shroud within these limits, I shall know 
 Ere morrow wake, or the low roosted lark 
 From her thatched pallet rouse ; if otherwise, 
 I can conduct you, lady, to a low, 
 But loyal cottage, where you may be safe 
 Till further quest. 
 
 Lady. Shepherd, I take thy word, 
 
 And trust thy honest-offered courtesy, h 
 
 Which oft is sooner found in lowly sheds, 
 With smoky rafters, than in tapestry halls 
 
 i 
 
 i 
 
 In courts of princes, where it first was named. 
 And yet is most pretended ; in a place 
 Less waiTanted than this, or less secure, 
 I cannot be, that I should fear to change it. 
 Eye me, blest Providence, and square my trial 
 To my proportioned strength. Shepherd, lead on. 
 
 [Exeu7it. 
 
 Enter the Two Brothers. 
 
 El. Br. Uumuffle, ye faint stars ; and thou, fair 
 moon. 
 That wontest to love the traveller's benison. 
 Stoop thy pale visage through an amber cloud, 
 And disinherit chaos, that reigns here 
 In double night of darkness and of shades; 
 Or, if your influence be quite dammed up 
 With black usurping mists, some gentle taper, 
 Though a rush candle from the wicker hole 
 Of some clay habitation, visit us 
 W^ilh thy long-levelled rule of streaming light; 
 And thou shalt be our star of Arcady, 
 Or Tyrian Cynosure. 
 
 Sec. Br. Or, if our eyes 
 
 Be barred that happiness, might we but hear 
 The folded flocks penned in their wattled cotes, 
 Or sound of pastoral reed with oaten stops. 
 Or whistle from the lodge, or village cock 
 Count the night watches to his feathery dames, 
 'Twould be some solace yet, some little cheering. 
 In this close dungeon of innumerous boughs. 
 But, that hapless virgin, our lost sister! 
 Where may she wander now, whither betake her 
 From the chill dew, among rude burs and thistles ? 
 Perhaps some cold bank is her bolster now. 
 Or 'gainst the rugged bark of some broad elm 
 Leans her unpillowed head, fraught with sad fears. 
 What if in wild amazement and aff'right? 
 Or, while we speak, within the direful grasp 
 Of savage hunger, or of savage heat? 
 
 El. Br. Peace, brother : be not over exquisite 
 To cast the fashion of uncertain evils : 
 For grant they be so; while they rest unknown, 
 What need a man forestall his date of grief. 
 And run to meet what he would most avoid ? 
 Or, if they be but false alarms of fear. 
 How bitter is such self-delusion ! 
 I do not think my sister so to seek. 
 Or so unprincipled in virtue's book. 
 And the sweet peace that goodness bosoms ever, 
 As that the single want of light and noise 
 (Not being in danger, as I trust she is not) 
 Could stir the constant mood of her calm thoughts, 
 And put them into misbecoming plight. 
 Virtue could see to do what virtue would 
 By her own radiant light, though sun and moon 
 Were in the flat sea sunk. And wisdom's self 
 Oft seeks to sweet retired solitude ; 
 Where, with her best nurse, contemplation. 
 She plumes her feathers, and lets grow her wings. 
 That in the various bustle of resort 
 W^ere all-to ruffled, and sometimes impaired. 
 
144 
 
 COMUS. 
 
 I He that has liglit within his own clear breast, 
 / May sit i' the center, and enjoy bri<;ht day: 
 f But be that hides a dark soul, and foul thoughts, 
 / Benighted walks under the mid-day sun ; 
 Himself is his own dungeon. 
 
 Sec. Br. *Tis most true, 
 
 That musing meditation most affects 
 The pensive secrecy of desert cell, 
 Far from the cheerful haunt of men and herds. 
 And sits as safe as in a senate-house; 
 For who would rob a hermit of his weeds. 
 His few books, or his beads, or maple dish. 
 Or do his gray hairs any violence ? 
 But beauty, like the fair Hesperian tree 
 Laden with blooming gold, had need the guard 
 Of dragon watch, with unenchanted eye. 
 To save her blossoms and defend her fruit 
 From the rash hand of bold incontinence. 
 You may as well spread out the unsunned heaps 
 Of misers' treasure by an outlaw's den. 
 And tell me it is safe, as bid me hope 
 Danger will wink on opportunity. 
 And let a single helpless maiden pass 
 Uninjured in this wild surrounding waste. 
 Of night, or loneliness, it recks me not ; 
 I fear the dread events that dog them both, 
 Lest some ill-greeting touch attempt the person 
 Of our unowned sister. 
 
 El. Br. I do not, brother. 
 
 Infer, as if I thought my sister's state 
 Secure, without all doubt or controversy ; 
 Yet, where an equal poise of hope and fear 
 Does arbitrate the event, my nature is 
 That I incline to hope, rather than fear, 
 And gladly banish squint suspicion. 
 My sister is not so defenceless left 
 As you imagine; she has a hidden strength. 
 Which you remember not. 
 
 Sec. Br. What hidden strength. 
 
 Unless the strength of Heaven, if you mean that? 
 
 El. Br. I mean that too, but yet a hidden strength, 
 Which, if Heaven gave it, may be termed her own : 
 'Tis chastity, my brother, chastity : 
 She, that has that, is clad in complete steel ; 
 And, like a quivered nymph with arrows keen, 
 May trace huge forests, and unharboured heaths, 
 Infamous hills, and sandy perilous wilds ; 
 Where, through the sacred rays of chastity, 
 No savage fierce, bandit, or mountaineer. 
 Will dare to soil her virgin purity : 
 Yea, there where very desolation dwells, 
 By grots and caverns shagg'd with horrid shades. 
 She may pass on with unblenched majesty. 
 Be it not done in pride, or in presumption. 
 Some say, no evil thing that walks by night, 
 In fog or fire, by lake or moorish fen. 
 Blue meager hag, or stubborn unlaid ghost 
 That breaks his magic chains at curfeu time, 
 ^ No goblin, or swart faery of the mine, 
 / Hath hurtful power o'er true virginity 
 i Do ye believe me yet, or shall I call 
 
 Antiquity from the old schools of Greece 
 
 To testify the arms of chastity ? 
 
 Hence had the huntress Dian her dread bow. 
 
 Fair silver-shafted queen, for ever chaste, 
 
 Wherewith she tamed the brinded lioness 
 
 And spotted mountain-pard, but set at nought 
 
 The frivolous bolts of Cupid ; gods and men 
 
 Feared her stern frown, and she was queen o' the woods. 
 
 What was that snaky-headed Gorgon shield. 
 
 That wise Minerva wore, unconquered virgin. 
 
 Wherewith she freezed her foes to congealed stone. 
 
 But rigid looks of chaste austerity. 
 
 And noble grace, that dashed brute violence 
 
 With sudden adoration and blank awe.'* 
 
 So dear to Heaven is saintly chastity. 
 
 That when a soul is found sincerely so, 
 
 A thousand liveried angels lackey her. 
 
 Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt; 
 
 And, in clear dream and solemn vision. 
 
 Tell her of things that no gross ear can hear ; 
 
 Till oft converse with heavenly habitants 
 
 Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape. 
 
 The unpolluted temple of the mind. 
 
 And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence. 
 
 Till all be made immortal : but when lust. 
 
 By unchaste looks, loose gestures, and foul talk, 
 
 But most by lewd and lavish act of sin. 
 
 Lets in defilement to the inward parts. 
 
 The soul grows clotted by contagion, 
 
 Imbodies, and imbrutes, till she quite lose 
 
 The divine property of her first being. 
 
 Such are those thick and gloomy shadows damp 
 
 Oft seen in charnel vaults and sepulchres 
 
 Lingering, and sitting by a new-made grave. 
 
 As loth to leave the body that it loved. 
 
 And linked itself by carnal sensuality 
 
 ,To a degenerate and degraded state. 
 
 Sec. Br. How charming is divine philosophy ! 
 Not harsh, and crabbed, as dull fools suppose. 
 But musical as is Apollo's lute. 
 And a perpetual feast of nectared sweets, 
 Where no crude surfeit reigns. 
 
 El. Br. List, list ; I hear 
 
 Some far off halloo break the silent air. 
 
 Sec. Br. Methought so too ; what should it be .' 
 
 El. Br. For certain. 
 
 Either some one like us night-foundered here. 
 Or else some neighbour woodman, or, at worst. 
 Some roving robber, calling to his fellows. 
 
 Sec. Br. Heaven keep my sister. Again, again, 
 and near ! 
 Best draw, and stand upon our guard. 
 
 El. Br. I'll halloo : 
 
 If he be friendly, he comes well ; if not. 
 Defence is a good cause, and Heaven be for us. 
 
 Enter the Attendant Spirit, habited like a shepherd. 
 That halloo I should know ? what are you ? speak ; 
 Come not too near, you fall on iron stakes else. 
 Spir. What voice is that ? my young lord .' speak 
 again. 
 
COMUS. 
 
 ua 
 
 Sec. Br. O brother, 'tis my father's shepherd, sure. 
 
 El. Br. Thyrsis, whose artful strains have oft de- 
 layed 
 The huddling- brook to hear his madrig-al, 
 And sweetened every musk-rose of the dale? 
 How earnest thou here, g-ood swain ? hath any ram 
 Slipt from the fold, or young kid lost his dam, 
 Or straggling wether the pent flock forsook ? 
 How couldst thou find this dark sequestered nook ? 
 
 Spir. O my loved master's heir, and his next joy, 
 I came not here on such a trivial toy 
 As a strayed ewe, or to pursue the stealth 
 Of pilfering wolf; not all the fleecy wealth. 
 That doth enrich these downs, is worth a thought 
 To this my errand, and the care it brought. 
 But, O my virgin lady, where is she? 
 How chance she is not in your company ? 
 
 El. Br. To tell thee sadly, shepherd, without blame, 
 Or our neglect, we lost her as we came. 
 
 Spir. Ay me unhappy ! then my fears are true. 
 
 El. Br. What fears, good Thyrsis ? Pr'ythee briefly 
 show. 
 
 Spir. I '11 tell ye ;' tis not vain or fabulous, 
 (I'bough so esteemed by shallow ignorance,) 
 What the sage poets, taught by the heavenly muse, 
 Storied of old in high immortal verse, 
 Of dire chimeras, and enchanted isles. 
 And rifted rocks whose entrance leads to hell ; 
 For such there be, but unbelief is blind. 
 
 Within the navel of this hideous wood, 
 Immured in cypress shades a sorcerer dwells, 
 ', Of Bacchus and of Circe born, great Comus, 
 Deep skilled in all his mother's witcheries ; 
 And here to every thirsty wanderer 
 By sly enticement gives his baneful cup. 
 With many murmurs mixed, whose pleasing poison 
 The visage quite transforms of him that drinks. 
 And the inglorious likeness of a beast 
 Fixes instead, unmoulding reason's mintage 
 Charactered in the face : this have I learnt 
 Tending my flocks hard by i' the hilly crofts, 
 That brow this bottom-glade ; whence night by night 
 He and his monstrous rout are heard to howl. 
 Like stabled wolves, or tigers at their prey. 
 Doing abhorred rites to Hecate 
 f In their obscured haunts of inmost bovvers. 
 
 Yet have they many baits and guileful spells, 
 V To inveigle and invite the unwary sense 
 Of them that pass unweeting by the way. 
 This evening late, by them the chewing flocks 
 Had ta'en their supper on the savoury herb 
 Of knot-grass dew-besprent, and were in fold, 
 I sat me down to watch upon a bank 
 With ivy canopied, and interwove 
 With flaunting honeysuckle, and began, 
 Rapt in a pleasing fit of melancholy, 
 To meditate my rural minstrelsy. 
 Till fancy had her fill ; but, ere a close. 
 The wonted roar was up amidst the woods, 
 And filled the air with barbarous dissonance ; 
 At which I ceased, and listened them a while, 
 
 Till an unusual stop of sudden silence 
 
 Gave respite to the drowsy-flighted steeds. 
 
 That draw the litter of close-curtained sleep ; 
 
 At last a soft and solemn-breathing sound 
 
 Rose like a steam of rich distilled perfumes. 
 
 And stole upon the air, that even silence 
 
 Was took ere she was ware, and wished she might 
 
 Deny her nature, and be never more 
 
 Still to be so displaced. I was all ear. 
 
 And took in strains that might create a soul 
 
 Under the ribs of death : but, O ! ere long, 
 
 Too well I did perceive it was the voice 
 
 Of my most honoured lady, your dear sister. 
 
 Amazed I stood, harrowed with grief and fear. 
 
 And, O poor hapless nightingale, thought I, 
 
 How sweet thou singest, how near the deadly snare ! 
 
 Then down the lawns I ran with headlong haste. 
 
 Through paths and turnings often trod by day, 
 
 Till, guided by mine ear, I found the place, 
 
 Where that damned wizard, hid in sly disguise, 
 
 (For so by certain signs I knew,) had met 
 
 Already, ere my best speed could prevent, 
 
 The aidless innocent lady, his wished prey. 
 
 Who gently asked if be bad seen such two. 
 
 Supposing him some neighbour villager. 
 
 Longer I durst not stay, but soon I guessed 
 
 Ye were the two she meant ; with that I sprung 
 
 Into swift flight, till I had found you here ; 
 
 But further know I not. 
 
 Sec. Br. O night and shades! 
 
 How are ye joined with hell in triple knot 
 Against the unarmed weakness of one virgin, 
 Alone and helpless ! Is this the confidence 
 You gave me, brother ? 
 
 El. Br. Yes, and keep it still ; 
 
 Lean on it safely ; not a period 
 Shall be unsaid for me : against the threats 
 Of malice, or of sorcery, or that power 
 Which erring men call chance, this I hold firm : 
 Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt, .' 
 
 §urprrsed"liyunjiist force, but not enthralled ; ^ 
 Yea, even that, which mischief meant most harm, 
 Shall in the happy trial prove most glory : 
 But evil on itself shall back recoil. 
 And mix no more with goodness; when at last 
 Gathered like scum, and settled to itself, 
 It shall be in eternal restless change 
 Self-fed, and self-consumed : if this fail. 
 The pillared firmament is rottenness. 
 And earth's base built on stubble. But come, let's on. 
 Against the opposing will and arm of Heaven 
 May never this just sword be lifted up ; 
 But for that damned magician, let him be girt 
 With all the grisly legions that troop 
 Under the sooty flag of Acheron, 
 Harpies and Hydras, or all the monstrous forms 
 'Twixt Africa and Ind, I '11 find him out, 
 And force him to return his purchase back, 
 Or drag him by the curls to a foul death. 
 Cursed as his life. 
 
 Spir. Alas ! good venturous youib, 
 
146 
 
 COM US. 
 
 I love tliy courage yet, aud bold emprise ; 
 But here thy sword can do thee little stead ; 
 Far other arms and other weapons must 
 Be those that quell the might of hellish charms : 
 He with his bare wand can unthread thy joints, 
 And crumble all thy sinews. 
 
 EL Br. Why pr'ythee, shepherd, 
 
 How durst thou then thyself approach so near, 
 As to make this relation ? 
 
 Spir. Care, and utmost shifts, 
 
 How to secure the lady from surprisal. 
 Brought to my mind a certain shepherd lad, 
 Of small regard to see to, yet well skilled 
 In every virtuous plant, and healing herb, 
 That spreads her verdant leaf to the morning ray : 
 He loved me well, and oft would beg me sing ; 
 Which when I did, he on the tender grass 
 W'ould sit and hearken even to ecstasy, 
 And in requital ope bis leathern scrip, 
 And show me simples of a thousand names. 
 Telling their strange and vigorous faculties. 
 Amongst the rest a small unsightly root. 
 But of divine effect, he culled me out ; 
 The leaf was darkish, and had prickles on it. 
 But in another country, as he said. 
 Bore a bright golden flower, but not in this soil : 
 Unknown, and like esteemed, and the dull swain 
 Treads on it daily with his clouted shoon : 
 And yet more medicinal is it than that moly. 
 That Hermes once to wise Ulysses gave. 
 He called it hsemony, and gave it me, 
 And bade me keep it as of sovran use, 
 'Gainst all enchantments, mildew, blast, or damp. 
 Or ghastly furies' apparition. 
 I pursed it up, but little reckoning made. 
 Till now that this extremity compelled : 
 But now I find it true ; for by this means 
 I knew the foul enchanter though disguised, 
 Entered the very lime-twigs of his spells. 
 And yet came off: if you have this about you, 
 (As I will give you when we go,) you may 
 Boldly assault the necromancer's hall ; 
 Where if he be, with dauntless hardihood. 
 And brandished blade, rush on him ; break his glass. 
 And shed the luscious liquor on the ground. 
 But seize his wand; though he and his cursed crew 
 Fierce sign of battle make, and menace high, 
 Or like the sons of Vulcan vomit smoke, 
 Yet will they soon retire, if he but shrink. 
 
 El. Br. Thyrsis, lead on apace, I '11 follow thee ; 
 And some good angel bear a shield before us. 
 
 Tlie scene clianges to a stately palace, set out with all 
 manner of deliciousness ; soft music, tables spread 
 with all dainties. Comus appears with his rabble, 
 and the Lady set in an enchanted chair, to whom he 
 offers his glass, which the puts by, and goes about to 
 rise. 
 
 Comus. 
 Nay, lady, sit ; if I but wave this wand. 
 Your nerves are all chained up in alabaster. 
 
 And you a statue, or, as Daphne was, 
 Root-bound, that fled Apollo. 
 
 Lady. Fool, do not boast ; 
 
 Thou canst not touch the freedom of my mind 
 With all thy charms, although this corporal rind 
 ^Thou hast immanacled, while Heaven sees good. 
 
 Comus, Why are you vexed, lady .'' Why do you 
 frown ? 
 Here dwell no frowns, nor anger ; from these gates 
 Sorrow flies far : see, here be all the pleasures 
 That fancy can beget on youthful thoughts, 
 When the fresh blood grows lively, and returns 
 Brisk as the April buds in primrose-season. 
 And first, behold this cordial julep here. 
 That flames and dances in his crystal bounds, 
 With spirits of halm and fragrant syrups mixed ; 
 Not that nepenthes, which the wife of Thone 
 In Egypt gave to Jove-bom Helena, 
 Is of such power to stir up joy as this. 
 To life so friendly, or so cool to thirst. 
 Why should you be so cruel to yourself. 
 And to those dainty limbs, which nature lent 
 For gentle usage and soft delicacy ? 
 But you invert the covenants of her trust. 
 And harshly deal like an ill borrower. 
 With that which you received on other terms ; 
 Scorning the unexempt condition 
 By which all mortal frailty must subsist. 
 Refreshment after toil, ease after pain, 
 That have been tired all day without repast. 
 And timely rest have wanted ; but, fair virgin, 
 This will restore all soon. 
 
 Lady. 'Twill not, false traitor ! 
 
 'Twill not restore the truth and honesty 
 That thou hast banished from thy Itbrigue with lies. 
 Was this the cottage, and the safe abode, 
 Thou toldest me of? What grim aspects are these, 
 These ugly-headed monsters ? Mercy guard me ! 
 Hence with thy brewed enchantments, foul deceiver! 
 Hast thou betrayed my credulous innocence 
 With visored falsehood and base forgery .'' 
 And wouldst thou seek again to trap me here 
 With lickerish baits, fit to ensnare a brute? 
 Were it a draught for Juno when she banquets, 
 I would not taste thy treasonous offer ; none 
 But such as are good men can give good things ; 
 , And that which is not good is not delicious 
 \ To a well-governed and wise appetite. 
 
 Comus. O foolishness of men ! that lend their ears 
 To those budge doctors of the Stoic fur, 
 And fetch their precepts from the Cynic tub, 
 Praising the lean and sallow abstinence. 
 Wherefore did nature pour her bounties forth 
 With such a full and unwithdrawing hand. 
 Covering the earth with odours, fruits, and flocks, 
 Thronging the seas with spawn innumerable. 
 But all to please and sate the curious taste ? 
 And set to work millions of spinning worms. 
 That in their green shops weave the smooth-haired 
 
 silk. 
 To deck her sons; and that no comer might 
 
COMUS. 
 
 147 
 
 Be vacant of her plenty, in her own loins 
 
 She hutched the all-worshipt ore and precious gems, 
 
 To store her children with : if all the world 
 
 Should in a pet of temperance feed on pulse, 
 
 Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze, 
 
 The All-giver would be unthanked, would be un- 
 
 praised. 
 Not half his riches known, and yet despised ; 
 And we should serve him as a grudging master, 
 As a penurious niggard of his wealth ; 
 And live like nature's bastards, not her sons, 
 Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight, 
 And strangled with her waste fertility ; 
 The earth cumbered, and the winged air darked with 
 
 plumes, 
 The herds would over-multitude their lords, 
 The sea o'er-fraught would swell, and the unsought 
 
 diamonds 
 Would so imblaze the forehead of the deep, 
 And so bestud with stars, that they below 
 Would grow inured to light, and come at last 
 To gaze upon the sun with shameless brows. 
 List, lady : be not coy, and be not cozened 
 With that same vaunted name, virginity. 
 Beauty is nature's coin, must not be hoarded. 
 But must be current; and the good thereof 
 Consists in mutual and partaken bliss, 
 Unsavoury in the enjoyment of itself; 
 If you let slip time, like a neglected rose 
 It withers on the stalk with languished head. 
 Beauty is nature's brag, and must be shown 
 In courts, at feasts, and high solemnities. 
 Where most may wonder at the workmanship ; 
 It is for homely features to keep home. 
 They had their name thence ; coarse complexions, 
 And cheeks of sorry grain, will serve to ply 
 The sampler, and to tease the huswife's wool. 
 What need a vermeil-tinctured lip for tliat. 
 Love-darting eyes, or tresses like the morn ? 
 There was another meaning in these gifts ; 
 Think what, and be advised ; you are but young yet. 
 Lady. I had not thought to have unlocked my lips 
 In this unhallowed air, but that this juggler 
 Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes. 
 Obtruding false rules pranked in reason's garb. 
 I hate when vice can bolt her arguments, 
 And virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 
 Impostor ! do not charge most innocent nature. 
 As if she would her children should be riotous 
 With her abundance ; she, good cateress, 
 Means her provision only to the good. 
 That live according to her sober laws, \ 
 And holy dictate of spare temperance : ) 
 If every just man, that now pines with want. 
 Had but a moderate and beseeming share 
 Of that which lewdly-pampered luxury 
 Now heaps upon some few with vast excess, 
 Nature's full blessings would be well dispensed 
 In unsuperfluouseven proportion. 
 And she no whit encumbered with her store; 
 And then the Giver would be better thanked, 
 L 2 
 
 His praise due paid: for swiuish gluttony fT~^''MX.^^-t<^ 
 Ne'er looks to Heaven amidst his gorgeous feast, ' 
 
 But with besotted base ingratitude 
 Crams, and blasphemes his Feeder. Shall I go on ? 
 Or have I said enough ? To him that dares 
 Arm his profane tongue with contemptuous words 
 Against the sun-clad power of chastity. 
 Fain would I something say, yet to what end ? 
 Thou hast nor ear, nor soul, to apprehend 
 The sublime notion, and high mystery. 
 That must be uttered to unfold the sage 
 And serious doctrine of virginity; 
 And thou art worthy that thou shouldst not know 
 More happiness than this thy present lot. 
 Enjoy your dear wit, and gay rhetoric, 
 That hath so well been taught her dazzling fence ; 
 Thou^art not fit to hear thyself convinced : 
 Yet, should I try, the uncontrolled worth 
 Of this pure cause would kindle my rapt spirits 
 To such a flame of sacred vehemence, 
 That dumb things would be moved to sympathize, 
 And the brute earth would lend her nerves, and shake, 
 Till all thy magic structures, reared so high, 
 Were shattered into heaps o'er thy false head. 
 Comus. She fables not ; I feel that I do fear 
 Her words set off by some superior power ; 
 And though not mortal, yet a cold shuddering dew 
 Dips me all o'er, as when the wrath of Jove 
 Speaks thunder, and the chains of Erebus, 
 To some of Saturn's crew. I must dissemble, 
 And try her yet more strongly. Come, no more ; 
 This is mere moral babble, and direct 
 Against tiie canon-laws of our foundation ; 
 I must not suffer this : yet 'tis but the lees 
 And settlings of a melancholy blood : 
 But this will cure all straight ; one sip of this 
 Will bathe the drooping spirits in delight. 
 Beyond the bliss of dreams. Be wise, and taste. 
 
 The Brothers rush in with swords drawn, wrest his 
 glass out of his hand, and break it againat the 
 ground : his rout make sign of resistance ; hit are 
 all driven in. The Attendant Spirit comes in. 
 
 Spirit. 
 
 What, have you let the false enchanter 'scape ? 
 O ye mistook, ye should have snatched his wand. 
 And bound him fast ; without his rod reversed, 
 And backward mutters of dissevering power. 
 We cannot free the lady that sits here 
 In stony fetters fixed, and motionless : 
 Yet stay, be not disturbed ; now I bethink me. 
 Some other means I have which may be used, 
 Which once of Meliboeus old I learnt. 
 The soothest shepherd that ere piped on plains. 
 
 There is a gentle nymph not far from hence, 
 That with moist curb sways the smooth Severn 
 
 stream, 
 Sabrina is her name, a virgin pure ; 
 Whilom she was the daughter of Locrine, 
 That had the scepter from his Axther Brute. 
 
148 
 
 COM US. 
 
 She, guiltless damsel, flying the mad pursuit 
 Of her enraged stepdame Gucnduleu, 
 Commended her fair iunocence to the flood, 
 That staid her flight with his cross-flowing course. 
 The water-nymphs, that in the bottom played, 
 Held up their pearled wrists, and took her in, 
 Bearing her straight to aged Nereus' hall ; 
 Who, piteous of her woes, reared her lank head. 
 And gave her to his daughters to imbathe 
 In nectared lavers, strewed with asphodel ; 
 And through the porch and inlet of each sense 
 Dropt in ambrosial oils, till she revived. 
 And underwent a quick immortal change. 
 Made goddess of the river : still she retains 
 Her maiden gentleness, and oft at eve 
 Visits the herds along the twilight meadows, 
 Helping all urchin blasts, and ill-luck signs 
 That the shrewd meddling elfe delights to make. 
 Which she with precious vialled liquors heals; 
 For which the shepherds at their festivals 
 Carol her goodness loud in rustic lays. 
 And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream 
 Of pansies, pinks, and gaudy daffodils. 
 And, as the old swuin said, she can unlock 
 The clasping charm, and thaw the numming spell. 
 If she be right invoked in warbled song; 
 For maidenhood she loves, and will be swift 
 To aid a virgin, such as was herself, 
 In hard-besetting need ; this will I try, 
 And add the power of some adjuring verse. 
 
 SONG. 
 
 SabnnjLi&ii*, 
 
 Listen where thou art sitting 
 Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave. 
 
 In twisted braids of lilies knitting 
 The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair ; 
 
 Listen for dear honour's sake, 
 
 Goddess of the silver lake, 
 Listen and save. 
 Listen and appear to us, 
 In name of great Oceanus ; 
 By the earth-shaking Neptune's mace, 
 And Tethys' grave majestic pace, 
 By hoary Nereus' wrinkled look, 
 And the Carpathian wizard's hook, 
 By scaly Triton's winding shell, 
 And old sooth-saying Glaucus' spell, 
 By Leucothea's lovely hands, 
 And her son that rules the strands, 
 By Thetis' tinsel-slippered feet. 
 And the songs of Syrens sweet. 
 By dead Parthenope's dear tomb. 
 And fair Ligea's golden comb. 
 Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks, 
 Sleeking her soft alluring locks ; 
 By all the nymphs that nightly dance 
 Upon thy streams with wily glance. 
 Rise, rise, and heave thy rosy head 
 From thy coral-pa ven bed, 
 
 And bridle in thy headlong wave. 
 Till thou our summons answered have. 
 
 Listen, and save. 
 
 Sabrifia rises, attended by water-nymphs, and sings. 
 
 By the rushy-fringed bank. 
 
 Where grows the willow and the ozier dank, 
 
 My sliding chariot stays, 
 Thick set with agate, and the azure sheen 
 Of turkis blue, and emerald green. 
 
 That in the channel strays ; 
 Whilst from off the waters fleet 
 Thus I set my printless feet 
 O'er the cowslip's velvet head. 
 
 That bends not as I tread ; 
 Gentle swain, at thy request, 
 
 I am here. 
 
 Spir. Goddess dear, 
 We implore thy powerful hand 
 To undo the charmed band 
 Of true virgin here distrest. 
 Through the force and through the wile 
 Of unblest enchanter vile. 
 
 Sahr. Shepherd, 'tis my office best 
 To help ensnared chastity ; 
 Brightest lady, look on me ; 
 Thus I sprinkle on thy breast 
 Drops, that from my fountain pure 
 I have kept, of precious cure; 
 Thrice upon thy finger's tip. 
 Thrice upon thy rubied lip ; 
 Next this marble venomed seat, 
 Smeared with gums of glutinous heat, 
 I touch with chaste palms moist and cold : 
 Now the spell hath lost his hold ; 
 And I must haste, ere morning hour, 
 To wait in Amphitrite's bower. 
 
 Sahrina descends, and the Lady rises out of her seat. 
 
 Spir. Virgin, daughter of Locrine 
 Sprung of old Anchises' line, 
 May thy brimmed waves for this 
 
 Their full tribute never miss -., _^ 
 
 From a thousand petty rills. 
 That tumble down the snowy hills : 
 Summer drought, or singed air, 
 Never scorch thy tresses fair. 
 Nor wet October's torrent flood 
 Thy molten crystal fill with mud ; 
 May thy billows roll ashore 
 The beryl and the golden ore ; 
 May thy lofty head be crowned 
 With many a tower and terrace round. 
 And here and there thy banks upon 
 With groves of myrrh and cinnamon. 
 
 Come, lady, while Heaven lends us grace, 
 Let us fly this cursed place, 
 Lest the sorcerer us entice 
 With some other new device. 
 
 m 
 
COMUS. 
 
 149 
 
 Not a waste or needless sound, 
 
 Till we come to holier ground ; 
 
 I shall be your faithful guide 
 
 Through this gloomy covert wide, 
 
 And not many furlongs thence 
 
 Is your father's residence, 
 
 Where this night are met in state 
 
 Many a friend to gratulate 
 
 His wished presence ; and beside 
 
 All the swains, that there abide, 
 
 With jigs and rural dance resort; 
 
 We shall catch them at their sport, 
 
 And our sudden coming there 
 
 Will double all their mirth and cheer : 
 
 Come, let us haste, the stars grow high. 
 
 But night sits monarch yet in the mid sky. 
 
 The scene changes, presenting Ludlow town and 
 the president's castle ; then come in countrij 
 dancers, after them the Attendant Spirit, with 
 the Two Brothers and the Lady, 
 
 SONG. 
 
 Spir. Back, shepherds, back ; enough your play, 
 Till next sun-shine holiday : 
 Here be, without duck or nod, 
 Other trippings to be trod 
 Of lighter toes, and such court guise 
 As Mercury did first devise. 
 With the mincing Dryades, 
 On the lawns, and on the leas. 
 
 This second Song presents them to their Father 
 and Mother. 
 
 Noble lord and lady bright, 
 I have brought ye new delight; 
 Here behold so goodly grown 
 Three fair branches of your own ; 
 Heaven hath timely tried their youth, 
 Their faith, their patience, and their truth, 
 And sent them here through hard assays 
 With a crown of deathless praise. 
 To triumph in victorious dance *N 
 O'er sensual folly and intemperance^ 
 
 'The dances being ended, the Spirit epiloguizes. 
 
 Spir. To the ocean now I fly. 
 And those happy climes that lie 
 Where day never shuts his eye, 
 Up in the broad fields of the sky : 
 There I suck the liquid air 
 All amidst the gardens fair 
 Of Hesperus, and his daughters three 
 That sing about the golden tree : 
 Along the crisped shades and bowers 
 Revels the spruce and jocund Spring; 
 The Graces, and the rosy-bosomed Hours, 
 Thither all their bounties bring ; 
 There eternal Summer dwells. 
 And west winds, with musky wing, 
 About the cedared alleys fling 
 Nard and cassia's balmy smells. 
 Iris there with humid bow 
 Waters the odorous banks, that blow 
 Flowers of more mingled hue 
 Than her purfled scarf can shew ; 
 And drenches with Elysian dew, 
 (List, mortals, if your ears be true,) 
 Beds of hyacinth and roses. 
 Where young Adonis oft reposes. 
 Waxing well of his deep wound 
 In slumber soft, and on the ground 
 Sadly sits the Assyrian queen : 
 But far above in spangled sheen 
 Celestial Cupid, her famed son, advanced. 
 Holds his dear Psyche sweet, entranced 
 After her wandering labours long. 
 Till free consent the gods among 
 Make her his eternal bride, 
 And from her fair unspotted side 
 Two blissful twins are to be born. 
 Youth and Joy : so Jove hath sworn. 
 
 But now my task is smoothly done, 
 I can fly, or I can run. 
 Quickly to the green earth's end. 
 Where the bowed welkin low doth bend ; 
 And from thence can soar as soon 
 To the corners of the moon. 
 / Mortals that would follow me. 
 Love virtue ; she alone is free : 
 She can teach ye how to climb 
 Higher than the sphery chinie ; 
 Or if virtue feeble were, 
 Heaven itself would stoop to her. 
 
SONNETS. 
 
 To tJie Nightingale. 
 
 O NIGHTINGALE, that Oil yon bloomy spray ' 
 Warblest at eve, when all the woods are still ; 
 Thou with fresh hopes the lover's heart dost fill. 
 While the jolly hours lead on propitious May. 
 
 The liquid notes that close the eye of day,' 
 First heard before the shallow cuckoo's bill, 
 Portend success in love ; O, if Jove's will 
 Have linked that amorous power to thy soft lay, 
 
 Now timely sing, ere the rude bird of hate 
 
 Foretell my hopeless doom in some grove nigh : 
 As thou from year to year hast sung too late 
 
 For my relief, yet hadst no reason why : 
 
 Whether the Muse, or Love, call thee his mate. 
 Both them I serve, and of their train am I. 
 
 II. 
 
 On his being arrived to the age of Twenty-three. 
 
 How soon hath Time, the subtle thief of youth. 
 Stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year ! 
 My hasting days fly on with full career. 
 But my late spring no bud of blossom sheweth. 
 
 Perhaps my semblance might deceive the truth, 
 That I to manhood am arrived so near ; 
 And inward ripeness doth much less appear, 
 That some more timely-happy spirits endueth. 
 
 Yet be it less or more, or soon or slow. 
 It shall be still in strictest measure even 
 To that same lot, however mean or high. 
 
 Toward which Time leads me, and the will of Heaven 
 All is, if I have grace to use it so. 
 As ever in my great Task-master's eye. 
 
 III. 
 
 When the Assault was intended to the City. 
 
 Captain, or colonel, or knight in arms, 
 
 Whose chance on these defenceless doors may seize. 
 
 If deed of honour did thee ever please, 
 
 Guard ihcm, and him within protect from harms. 
 
 He can requite thee; for he knows the charms 
 That call fame on such gentle acts as these. 
 And he can spread thy name o'er lands and seas, 
 Whatever clime the sun's bright circle warms. 
 
 Lift not thy spear against the Muses' bower : 
 The great Emathian conqueror bid spare 
 The house of Pindarus, when temple and tower 
 
 Went to the ground : and the repeated air 
 Of sad Electra's poet had the power 
 To save the Athenian walls from ruin bare. 
 
 IV. 
 
 To a virtuous Young Lady. 
 
 Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth 
 
 Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the green. 
 And with those few art eminently seen. 
 That labour up the hill with heavenly truth. 
 
 The better part with Mary and with Ruth 
 Chosen thou hast ; and they that overweeri, 
 And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, 
 No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. 
 
 Thy care is fixed, and zealously attends 
 
 To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, 
 
 And hope that reaps not shame. Therefore be sure 
 
 Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends 
 Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night. 
 Hast gained thy entrance, virgin wise and pure. 
 
 V. 
 
 To the Lady Margaret Ley. 
 
 Daughter to that good earl, once president — 
 Of England's council and her treasur}'. 
 Who lived in both, unstained with gold or fee, 
 And left them both, more in himself content, 
 
 Till sad the breaking of that parliament 
 Broke him, as that dishonest victory 
 At Chaeronea, fatal to liberty. 
 Killed with report that old man eloquent. 
 
 Though later bom than to have known the days 
 Wherein your father flourished, yet by you, 
 Madam, methinks, I sec him living yet; 
 
 So well your words his noble virtues praise. 
 That all both judge you to relate them true, 
 And to possess them, honoured Margaret. 
 
SONNETS. 
 
 151 
 
 VI. 
 
 On the Deti action which followed upon my writing 
 certain Treatises. 
 
 A BOOK was writ of late, called Tetrachordon, *- 
 And woven close, both matter, form, and style ; "^ 
 The subject new ; it walked the town a while, " 
 Numbering good intellects ; now seldom pored on. 
 
 Cries the stall-reader, ' Bless us ! what a word on 
 A title-page is this ! ' And some in file ' , 
 
 Stand spelling false, while one might walk to Mile- 
 End Green. Why is it harder, sirs, than Gordon, 
 
 Colkitto, or Macdonnel, or Galasp ? 
 
 Those rugged names to our like mouths grow sleek. 
 That would have made Quintilian stare and gasp. 
 
 Thy age, like ours, O soul of Sir John Cheek, 
 Hated not learning worse than toad or asp, 
 When thou taughtest Cambridge, and King £d- 
 ard, Greek. 
 
 VII. 
 
 On the same. 
 
 I DID but prompt the age to quit their clog^ 
 By the known rules of ancient liberty. 
 When straight a barbarous noise environs me 
 Of owls and cuckoos, asses, apes, and dogs: 
 
 As when those hiuds that were transformed to frogs 
 Railed at Latona's twin-bom progeny, 
 Which after held the sun and moon in fee. 
 But this is got by casting pearl to hogs ; 
 
 That bawl for freedom in their senseless mood, 
 And still revolt when truth would set them free. 
 Licence they mean when they cry liberty ; 
 
 For who loves that, must first be wise and good ; 
 But from that mark how far they rove we see, 
 For all this waste of wealth, and loss of blood. 
 
 VIII. 
 To Mr. H. Lawes, on the publishing his Airs. 
 
 Harry, whose tuneful and well-measured song 
 First taught our English music how to span 
 Words with just note and accent, not to scan 
 With Midas' ears, committing short and long ; 
 
 Thy worth and skill exempts thee from the throng. 
 With praise enough for Envy to look wan ; 
 To after-age thou shalt be writ the man. 
 That with smooth air couldst humour best our tongue. 
 
 Thou honourest verse, and verse must lend her wing 
 To honour thee, the priest of Phoebus' quire. 
 That tunest their happiest lines in hymn or story. 
 
 Dante shall give Fame leave to set thee higher 
 Than his Casella, whom he wooed to sing 
 Met in the milder shades of purgatory. 
 
 IX. 
 
 On the religious Memory of Mrs. Catherine Tliom- 
 son, my Christian Friend, deceased December 16, 
 1646. 
 
 When faith and love, which parted from thee never, 
 Had ripened thy just soul to dwell with God, 
 Meekly thou didst resign this earthly load 
 Of death, called life ; which us from life doth sever. 
 
 Thy works, and alms, and all thy good endeavour. 
 Staid not behind, nor in the grave were trod ; 
 But, as faith pointed with her golden rod, 
 Followed thee up to joy and bliss for ever. 
 
 Love led them on, and faith, who knew them best 
 Thy hand-maids, clad them o'er with purple beams 
 And azure wings, that up they flew so drest. 
 
 And spake the truth of thee on glorious themes 
 Before the Judge ; who thenceforth bid thee rest, 
 And drink thy fill of pure immortal streams. 
 
 To the Lord General Fairfax. 
 
 Fairfax, whose name in arms through Europe rings, 
 Filling each mouth with envy or with praise, 
 And all her jealous monarchs with amaze. 
 And rumours loud that daunt remotest kings ; 
 
 Thy firm unshaken virtue ever brings 
 
 Victory home, though new rebellions raise 
 Their Hydra heads, and the false North displays 
 Her broken league to imp their serpent wings. 
 
 O yet a nobler task awaits thy hand 
 
 (For what can war, but endless war still breed ?) 
 Till truth and right from violence be freed. 
 
 And public faith cleared from the shameful brand 
 Of public fraud. In vain doth valour bleed, 
 While avarice and rapine share the land. 
 
 XI. 
 
 To the Lord General Cromwell. 
 
 Cromwell, our chief of men, who through a cloud 
 Not of war only, but detractions rude, 
 Guided by faith and matchless fortitude, 
 To peace and truth thy glorious way hast ploughed, 
 
 And on the neck of crowned fortune proud 
 
 Hast reared God's trophies, and his work pursued. 
 While Darwen stream, with blood of Scots imbued. 
 And Dunbar field resounds thy praises loud, 
 
 And Worcester's laureat wreath. Yet much remains 
 To conquer still ; peace with her victories 
 No less renowned than war ; new foes arise 
 
 Threatening to bind our souls with secular chains : 
 Help us to save free conscience from the paw 
 Of hireling wolves, whose Gospel is their maw. 
 
153 
 
 SONNETS. 
 
 XII. 
 To Sir Henry Vane, the Younger. 
 
 Vane, young' in years, but in sag-e counsel old. 
 Than whom a better senator ne'er held 
 The helm of Rome, when gowns, not arms, repelled 
 The fierce Epirot and the African bold ; 
 
 Whether to settle peace, or to unfold 
 The drift of hollow states hard to be spelled ; 
 Then to advise how war may, best upheld. 
 Move by her two main nerves, iron and gold. 
 
 In all her equipage ; besides to know 
 
 Both spiritual power and civil, what each means, 
 What severs each, thou hast learned, which few 
 have done : 
 
 The bounds of either sword to thee we owe : 
 Therefore on thy firm hand religion leans 
 In peace, and reckons thee her eldest son. 
 
 XIII. 
 On the late Massacre in Piemont. 
 
 Avenge, O Lord, thy slaughtered saints, whose bones 
 Lie scattered on the Alpine mountains cold ; 
 Even them who kept thy truth so pure of old, 
 When all our fathers worshipt stocks and stones, 
 
 Forget not : in thy book record their groans 
 Who were thy sheep, and in their ancient fold 
 Slain by the bloody Piemontese that rolled 
 Mother with infant down the rocks. The moans 
 
 The vales redoubled to the hills, and they 
 
 To heaven. Their martyred blood and ashes sow 
 O'er all the Italian fields, where still doth sway 
 
 The triple tyrant ; that from these may grow 
 A hundred-fold, who, having learned thy way, 
 Early may fly the Babylonian woe. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 On his Blindness. 
 
 When I consider how my light is spent ''■ 
 
 Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide. 
 And that one talent which is death to hide, 
 Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent: 
 
 To serve therewith my Maker, and present 
 My true account, lest he, returning, chide ; 
 ' Doth God exact day-labour, light denied ?' 
 I fondly ask : but Patience, to prevent 
 
 That murmur, soon replies, ' God doth not need 
 Either man's work, or his own gifts ; who best 
 Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best: his state ' 
 
 Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed. 
 And post o'er land and ocean without rest ; 
 They also serve who only stand and wait.' 
 
 XV. 
 7'o 3Ir. Lawrence. 
 
 Lawrence, of virtuous father virtuous son. 
 Now that the fields are dank, and ways arc mire. 
 Where shall we sometimes meet, and by the fire 
 Help waste a sullen day, what may be won 
 
 From the hard season gaining? Time will run 
 On smoother, till Favonius re-inspire 
 The frozen earth, and clothe in fresh attire 
 The lily and rose, that neither sewed nor spun. 
 
 What neat repast shall feast us, light and choice, 
 Of Attic taste, with wine, whence we may rise 
 To hear the lute well touched, or artful voice 
 
 Warble immortal notes and Tuscan air .'* 
 
 He who of those delights can judge, and spare 
 To interpose them oft, is not unwise. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 To Cyriack Skinner. 
 
 Cyriack, whose grandsire, on the royal bench 
 Of British Themis, with no mean applause. 
 Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws, i 
 Which others at their bar so often wrench ; 
 
 To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench 
 In mirth that, after, no repenting draws ; 
 Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause, 
 And what the Swede intends, and what the French. 
 
 To measure life learn thou betimes, and know 
 Towards solid good what leads the nearest way ; 
 For other things mild Heaven a time ordains. 
 
 And disapproves that care, though wise in show. 
 That with superfluous burden loads the day, ; 
 And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains. 
 
 XVIL 
 
 To the same. 
 
 Cyriack, this three years' day these eyes, though clear. 
 To outward view, of blemish or of spot, 
 Bereft of light, their seeing have forgot ; 
 Nor to their idle orbs doth sight appear 
 
 Of sun, or moon, or star, throughout the year, 
 Or man, or woman. (^Yet I argue not 
 Against Heaven's hand or will, nor bate a jot 
 Of heart or hope ; but still bear up and steer 
 
 Right onward. What supports me, dost thou ask ? 
 The conscience, friend, to have lost tliem ovcrplied 
 In liberty's defence, my noble task. 
 
 Of which all Europe rings from side to side. 
 
 This thought might lead me through the world's 
 
 vain mask. 
 Content though blind, bad I no better guide. 
 
SONNETS. 
 
 Id3 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 On his deceased Wife. 
 
 Methought I saw my late espoused saint 
 Brought to me, like Alcestis, from the grave. 
 Whom Jove's great son to her glad husband gave, 
 Rescued from death by force, though pale and 
 faint. 
 
 Mine, as whom washed from spot of child-bed taint 
 Purification in the old law did save, 
 And such, as yet once more I trust to have 
 Full sight of her in heaven without restraint, 
 
 Came vested all in white, pure as her mind : 
 Her face was veiled ; yet to my fancied sight 
 Love, sweetness, goodness, in her person shined 
 
 So clear, as in no face with more delight. 
 But, O ! as to embrace me she inclined, 
 I waked ; she fled ; and day brought back my night. 
 
ODES. 
 
 ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY. 
 
 This is the month, and this the happy morn, 
 Wherein the Son of heaven's Eternal King, 
 Of wedded maid and virgin mother born, 
 Our afreat redemption from above did bring ; 
 For so the holy sages once did sing, 
 
 That he our deadly forfeit should release, 
 And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. 
 
 That glorious form, that light unsufferable, 
 And that far-beaming blaze of majesty. 
 Wherewith he wont at heaven's high council-table 
 To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, 
 He laid aside ; and here with us to be. 
 
 Forsook the courts of everlasting day, 
 And chose with us a darksome house of mortal clay. 
 
 Say, heavenly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein 
 
 Afford a present to the Infant-God ? 
 
 Hast thou no verse, no hymn, or solemn strain. 
 
 To welcome him to this his new abode. 
 
 Now while the heaven, by the sun's team untrod. 
 
 Hath took no print of the approaching light. 
 And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons 
 bright ? 
 
 See, how from far, upon the eastern road. 
 The star-led wizards haste with odours sweet: 
 O run, prevent them with thy humble ode. 
 And lay it lowly at his blessed feet : 
 Have thou the honour first thy Lord to greet, 
 
 And join thy voice unto the angel-quire, 
 From out his secret altar touched with hallowed fire. 
 
 THE HYMN.Ci)%^ CXW<A 
 
 It was the winter wild. 
 While the heaven-born child 
 
 All meanly wrapt in the rude manger lies ; 
 Nature in awe to him 
 Had doffed her gaudy trim. 
 
 With her great Master so to sympathize : 
 It was no season then for her 
 To wanton with the sun, her lusty paramour. 
 
 Only with speeches fair 
 She woos the gentle air 
 
 To hide her guilty front with innocent snow ; 
 And on her naked shame. 
 Pollute with sinful blame. 
 
 The saintly veil of maiden white to throw ; 
 Confounded, that her Maker's eyes 
 Should look so near upon her foul deformities. 
 
 But he, her fears to cease, 
 
 Sent down the meek-eyed Peace ; 
 
 She crowned with olive green, came softly sliding 
 Down through the turning sphere, 
 His ready harbinger. 
 
 With turtle wing the amorous clouds dividing; 
 And, waving wide her myrtle wand. 
 She strikes an universal peace through sea and land. 
 
 No war, or battle's sound, 
 Was heard the world around : 
 
 The idle spear and shield were high up hung; 
 The hooked chariot stood 
 Unstained with hostile blood ; 
 
 The trumpet spake not to the armed throng ; 
 And kings sat still with awful eye. 
 As if they surely knew their sovran Lord was by. 
 
 But peaceful was the night. 
 Wherein the Prince of Light 
 
 His reign of peace upon the earth began : 
 The winds, with wonder whist 
 Smoothly the waters kist. 
 
 Whispering new joys to the mild ocean, 
 Who now hath quite forgot to rave. 
 While birds of calm sit brooding on the charmed 
 
 /rhe stars, with deep amaze, 
 I Stand fixed in steadfast gaze. 
 
 Bending one way their precious influence ; 
 And will not take their flight, 
 For all the morning light. 
 
 Or Lucifer that often warned them thence ; 
 But in their glimmering orbs did glow, 
 Until the Lord himself bespake, and bid them go. 
 
ODES. 
 
 155 
 
 And, though the shady gloom 
 ilad given day her room, 
 
 The sun himself withheld his wonted speed, 
 And hid his head for shame, 
 As his inferior flame 
 
 The new enlightened world no more should need : 
 He saw a greater Sun appear 
 Than his bright throne or burning axletree could bear. 
 
 The shepherds on the lawn, 
 Or ere the point of dawn, 
 
 Sat simply chatting in a rustic row ; J 
 Full little thought ihey then, 
 That the mighty Pan 
 
 Was kindly come to live with them below ; 
 Perhaps their loves, or else their sheep. 
 Was all that did their silly thoughts so busy keep. 
 
 When such music sweet 
 Their hearts and ears did greet. 
 
 As never was by mortal finger strook ; 
 Divinely warbled voice 
 Answering the stringed noise, 
 
 As all their souls in blissful rapture took : 
 Tlie air, such pleasure loth to lose. 
 With thousand echoes still prolongs each heavenly 
 close. 
 
 Nature that heard such sound, 
 Beneath the hollow round 
 
 Of Cynthia's seat, the aery reg'.on thrilling, 
 Now was almost won 
 To think her part was done. 
 
 And that her reign had here its last fulfilling ; 
 She knew such harmony alone 
 Could hold all heaven and earth in happier union. 
 
 At last surrounds their sight 
 A globe of circular light. 
 
 That with long beams the shamefaced night arrayed ; 
 The helmed Cherubim, 
 And sworded Seraphim, 
 
 Are seen in glittering ranks with wings displayed. 
 Harping in loud and solemn quire, 
 With unexpressive notes, to Heaven's new-born Heir. 
 
 Such music (as 'tis said) 
 Before was never made. 
 
 But when of old the sons of morning sung, 
 While the Creator great 
 His constellations set. 
 
 And the well-balanced world on hinges hung; 
 And cast the dark foundations deep, 
 And bid the weltering waves their oozy channel keep. 
 
 Ring out, ye crystal spheres, 
 Once bless our human ears, 
 
 If ye have power to touch our senses so ; 
 And let your silver chime 
 Move in melodious time ; 
 
 And let the base of heaven's deep organ blow ; 
 
 And, with your ninefold harmony, 
 
 Make up full concert to the angelic symphony. 
 
 For, if such holy song 
 Enwrap our fancy long. 
 
 Time will run back, and fetch the age of gold ; 
 And speckled vanity 
 Will sicken soon and die. 
 
 And leprous sin will melt from earthly mould ; 
 And hell itself will pass away, 
 And leave her dolorous mansions to the peering day. 
 
 Yea, truth and justice then 
 Will down return to men, 
 
 Orbed in a rainbow ; and, like glories wearing, 
 Mercy will sit between, 
 Throned in celestial sheen, 
 
 With radiant feet the tissued clouds down steering ; 
 And heaven, as at some festival. 
 Will open wide the gates of her high palace hall. 
 
 But wisest Fate says No, 
 This must not yet be so. 
 
 The Babe yet lies in smiling infancy, 
 That on the bitter cross 
 Must redeem our loss : 
 
 So both himself and us to glorify: 
 Yet first, to those ychained in sleep. 
 The wakeful trump of doom must thunder through 
 the deep ; 
 
 With such a horrid clang 
 
 As on mount Sinai rang, 
 While the red fire and smouldering clouds out- 
 brake : 
 
 The aged Earth aghast. 
 
 With terror of that blast, 
 
 Shall from the surface to the centre shake; 
 
 When at the world's last session, 
 
 The dreadful Judge in middle air shall spread bis 
 throne. 
 
 And then at last our bliss 
 Full and perfect is. 
 
 But now begins ; for, from this happy day, 
 The old Dragon, under ground 
 In straiter limits bound. 
 
 Not half so far casts his usurped sway : 
 And, wroth to see his kingdom fail, 
 Swinges the scaly horror of his folded tail. 
 
 The oracles are dumb, 
 No voice or hideous hum 
 
 Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving. 
 Apollo from his. shrine^ 
 Can no more divine. 
 
 With hollow shrink the steep of Delphos leaving. 
 No nightly trance, or breathed spell. 
 Inspires the pale-eyed priest from the prophetic 
 cell. 
 
160 
 
 ODES. 
 
 The lonely mountains o'er. 
 And the resounding- shore, 
 
 A voice of weeping' heard and loud lament ; 
 From haunted spring and dale, 
 Edged with poplar pale, 
 
 The parting genius is with sighing sent ; 
 With flower-inwoven tresses torn, 
 The nymphs in twilight shade oftangled thickets mourn. 
 
 In consecrated earth, 
 And on the holy hearth. 
 
 The Lars, and Lemures, moan with midnight plaint ; 
 In urns and altars round, 
 A drear and dying sound 
 
 Affrights the Flamens at their service quaint ; 
 And the chill marble seems to sweat. 
 While each peculiar power forgoes his wonted seat. 
 
 Peor and Baalim 
 Forsake their temples dim. 
 
 With that twice-battered god of Palestine ; 
 And mooned Ashtaroth, 
 Heaven's queen and mother both. 
 
 Now sits not girt with tapers' holy shine ; 
 The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn. 
 In vain the Tyrian maids their wounded Tbammuz 
 mourn. 
 
 And sullen Moloch, fled. 
 Hath left in shadows dread 
 
 His burning idol all of blackest hue; 
 In vain with cymbals' ring 
 They call the grisly king. 
 
 In dismal dance about the furnace blue ; 
 The brutish gods of Nile as fast, 
 Isis, and Orus, and the dog Anubis, haste. 
 
 Nor IS Osiris seen 
 
 In Memphian grove or green, 
 
 Trampling the unshowered grass with lowings loud : 
 Nor can he be at rest 
 Within his sacred chest ; 
 
 Nought but profoundest hell can be his shroud ; 
 In vain with timbrelled anthems dark 
 The sable-stoled sorcerers bear his worshipt ark. 
 
 He feels from Juda's land 
 The dreaded Infant's hand. 
 
 The rays of Bethlehem blind his dusky eyn ; 
 Nor all the gods beside 
 Longer dare abide, 
 
 Nor Typhon huge ending in snaky twine : 
 Our Babe, to show his Godhead true. 
 Can in his swaddling bands control the damned crew. 
 
 So, when the sun in bed. 
 Curtained with cloudy red. 
 
 Pillows bis chin upon an orient wave, 
 The flocking shadows pale 
 Troop to the infernal jail, 
 
 Each fettered ghost slips to bis several grave ; 
 
 And the yellow-skirted fays 
 
 Fly after the night-steeds, leaving their moon-loved 
 maze. 
 
 But see, the Virgin blest 
 Hath laid her Babe to rest ; 
 
 Time is, our tedious song should here have ending : 
 Heaven's youngest-teemed star 
 Hath flxed her polished car, 
 
 Her sleeping Lord, with hand-maid lamp, attend- 
 ing: 
 And all about the courtly stable 
 Bright-harnessed angels sit in order serviceable. 
 
 THE PASSION. 
 
 Erewhile of music, and ethereal mirth, 
 Wherewith the stage of air and earth did ring. 
 And joyous news of Heavenly Infant's birth. 
 My muse with angels did invite to sing; 
 But headlong joy is ever on the wing. 
 
 In wintry solstice like the shortened light. 
 Soon swallowed up in dark and long out-living night. 
 
 For now to sorrow must I tune my song, 
 And set my harp to notes of saddest woe. 
 Which on our dearest Lord did seize ere long. 
 Dangers, and snares, and wrongs, and worse than so> 
 Which he for us did freely undergo : 
 
 Most perfect Hero, tried in heaviest plight 
 Of labours huge and hard, too hard for human wight ! 
 
 He, sovran priest, stooping his regal head, 
 That dropt with odorous oil down his fair eyes, 
 Poor fleshy tabernacle entered. 
 His starry front low-rooft beneath the skies : 
 0, what a mask was there, what a disguise ! 
 
 Yet more ; the stroke of death he must abide. 
 Then lies him meekly down fast by his brethren's 
 side. 
 
 These latest scenes confine my roving verse ; 
 To this horizon is my Phoebus bound : 
 His god-like acts, and his temptations fierce, 
 And former suflTerings, other-where are found ; 
 Loud o'er the rest Cremona's trump doth sound ; 
 
 Me softer airs befit, and softer strings 
 Of lute, or viol still, more apt for mournful things. 
 
 Befriend me, night, best patroness of grief: 
 
 Over the pole thy thickest mantle throw, 
 
 And work my flattered fancy to belief. 
 
 That heaven and earth arc coloured with my woe ; 
 
 My sorrows are too dark for day to know ; 
 
 The leaves should all be black whereon I write. 
 And letters, where my tears have washed, a wannish 
 white. 
 
 i 
 
ODES. 
 
 157 
 
 See, see the chariot, and those rushing wheels, 
 That whirled the prophet up at Chebar flood ; 
 My spirit some transporting' cherub feels, 
 To bear me where the towers of Salem stood, 
 Once glorious towers, now sunk in guiltless blood ; 
 
 There doth my soul in holy vision sit, 
 In pensive trance, and anguish, and ecstatic fit. 
 
 Mine eye hath found that sad sepulchral rock 
 That was the casket of Heaven's richest store, 
 And.here though grief my feeble hands up-lock, 
 Yet on the softened quarry would I score 
 My plaining verse as lively as before ; 
 
 For sure so well instructed are my tears, 
 That they would fitly fall in ordered characters. 
 
 Or should I thence hurried on viewless wing 
 Take up a weeping on the mountains wild. 
 The gentle neighbourhood of grove and spring 
 Would soon unbosom all their echoes mild ; 
 And I (for grief is easily beguiled) 
 
 Might think the infection of my sorrows loud 
 Had got a race of mourners on some pregnant cloud. 
 
 This subject the author finding to he above the years 
 he had, when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with 
 what was begun, left it unfinished. 
 
 I 
 
 UPON THE CIRCUMCISION. 
 
 Ye flaming powers, and winged warriors bright. 
 That erst with music, and triumphant song. 
 First heard by happy watchful shepherd's ear, 
 So sweetly sung your joy the clouds along 
 Through the soft silence of the listening night; 
 Now mourn; and, if sad share with us to bear 
 Your fiery essence can distil no tear. 
 Burn in your sighs, and borrow 
 Seas wept from our deep sorrow : 
 He, who with all heaven's heraldry whilere 
 Entered the world, now bleeds to give us ease. 
 Alas, how soon our sin 
 Sore doth begin 
 
 His infancy to seize ! 
 O more exceeding love, or law more just."" 
 Just law indeed, but more exceeding love ! 
 For we, by rightful doom remediless, 
 Were lost in death, till he, that dwelt above. 
 High-throned in secret bliss, for us frail dust 
 Emptied his glory, even to nakedness ; 
 And that great covenant which we still transgress 
 Entirely satisfied ; 
 And the full wrath beside 
 Of vengeful justice bore for our excess; 
 And seals obedience first, with wounding smart, 
 This day ; but, O ! ere long, 
 Huge pangs and strong 
 
 Will pierce more near his heart. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT, 
 
 Dying of a Cough. 
 
 O FAIREST flower, no sooner blown but blasted 
 Soft silken primrose fading timelessly, 
 Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted 
 Bleak winter's force that made thy blossom dry ; 
 For he, being amorous on that lovely dye 
 
 That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss. 
 But killed, alas ! and then bewailed his fatal bliss. 
 
 , 4m^' 
 
 Jlk 
 
 For since grim Aquilo, his charioteer, 
 
 By boisterous rape the Athenian damsel got, -4r\u.' 
 
 
 
 1M< 
 
 He thought it touched his deity full near, 
 If likewise he some fair one wedded not, 
 Thereby to wipe away the infamous blot 
 
 Of long-uncoupled bed and childless eld. 
 Which, 'mongst the wanton gods, a foul reproach was 
 held. 
 
 So, mounting up in icy-pearled car. 
 Through middle empire of the freezing air 
 He wandered long, till thee he spied from far; 
 There ended was his quest, there ceased his care : 
 Down he descended from his snow-soft chair. 
 
 But, all unwares, with his cold kind embrace 
 Unhoused thy virgin soul from her fair hiding-place. 
 
 Yet thou art not inglorious in thy fate ; 
 For so Apollo, with unweeting hand, 
 Whilom did slay his dearly-loved mate, 
 Young Hyacinth, bum on Eurotas' strand, 
 Young Hyacinth, the pride of Spartan land ; 
 
 But then transformed him to a purple flower: 
 Alack, that so to change thee Winter had no power ! 
 
 Yet can I not persuade me thou art dead, (»V>./VA 
 
 Or that thy corse corrupts in earth's dark womb, 
 Or that thy beauties lie in wormy bed, . 
 
 Hid from the world in a low-delved tomb ; "•> 
 
 Could Heaven for pity thee so strictly doom .-* 
 Oh no ! for something in thy face did shine 
 Above mortality, that showed thou wast divine. 
 
 Resolve me, then, oh soul most surely blest! 
 (If so it be that thou these plaints dost hear;) 
 Tell me, bright spirit, where'er thou hoverest. 
 Whether above that high first-moving sphere, 
 Or in the Elysian fields (if such were there) ; 
 Oh say me true, if thou wert mortal wight. 
 And why from us so quickly thou didst take thy 
 flight ? 
 
 Wert thou some star which from the ruined roof 
 Of shaked Olympus by mischance didst fall ; 
 Which careful Jove in nature's true behoof 
 Took up, and in fit place did reinstall ? 
 Or did of late Earth's sons besiege the wall 
 
158 
 
 ODES. 
 
 Ofsheenj heaven, and thou, some g'oddess fled, 
 Amongst us here below to hide thy nectared head ? 
 
 Or wert thou that just maid, who once before 
 
 Forsook the hated earth, O tell me sooth, 
 
 And camest a^rain to visit us once more ? 
 
 Or wert thou that sweet-smiling youth ? 
 
 Or that crowned matron sage, white-robed Truth ? 
 
 Or any other of that heavenly brood 
 Let down in cloudy throne to do the world some 
 good ? 
 
 Or wert thou of the golden-winged host. 
 Who, having clad thyself in human weed, 
 To earth from thy prefixed seat didst post, 
 And after short abode fly back with speed, 
 As if to show what creatures heaven doth breed ; 
 
 Thereby to set the hearts of men on fire 
 To scorn the sordid world, and unto heaven aspire ? 
 
 But oh ! why didst thou not stay here below 
 To bless us with thy heaven-loved innocence, 
 To slake his wrath whom sin hath made our foe. 
 To turn swift-rushing black perdition hence, 
 Or drive away the slaughtering pestilence. 
 
 To stand 'twixt us and our deserved smart? 
 But thou canst best perform that office where thou art. 
 
 Then thou, the mother of so sweet a child. 
 Her false-imagined loss cease to lament, 
 And wisely learn to curb thy sorrows wild ; 
 Think what a present thou to God hast sent, 
 And render him with patience what he lent; 
 This if thou do, he will an offspring give. 
 That till the world's last end shall make thy name to 
 live. 
 
 ON TIME. 
 
 Fly, envious Time, till thou run out thy race ; 
 
 Call on the lazy leaden-stepping Hours, 
 
 Whose speed is but the heavy plummet's pace ; 
 
 And glut thyself with what thy womb devours. 
 
 Which is no more than what is false and vain. 
 
 And merely mortal dross ; 
 
 So little is our loss, 
 
 So little is thy gain ! 
 
 For when as each thing bad thou hast entombed, 
 
 And last of all thy greedy self consumed. 
 
 Then long eternity shall greet our bliss 
 
 With an individual kiss : 
 
 And joy shall overtake us as a flood, 
 
 When every thing that is sincerely good 
 
 And perfectly divine. 
 
 With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine 
 
 About the supreme throne 
 
 Of Him, to whose happy-making sight alone 
 
 When once our heavenly-guided soul shall climb, 
 
 Then, all this earthly grossness quit, 
 Attired with stars, we shall for ever sit. 
 
 Triumphing over death, and chance, and thee, 
 O Time ! 
 
 AT A SOLEMN MUSIC. 
 
 Blest pair of Sirens, pledges of heaven's joy, 
 
 Sphere born, harmonious sisters. Voice and Yerse, 
 
 Wed your divine sounds, and mixed^power employ, 
 
 Dead things with inbreathed sense able to pierce ; 
 
 And to our high-raised phantasy present 
 
 That undisturbed song of pure concent. 
 
 Aye sung before the sapphire-coloured throne 
 
 To Him that sits thereon. 
 
 With saintly shout, and solemn jubilee; 
 
 Where the bright seraphim, in burning row, 
 
 Their loud up-lifted angel-trumpets blow; 
 
 And the cherubic host, in thousand quires. 
 
 Touch their immortal harps of golden wires. 
 
 With those just spirits that wear victorious palms, 
 
 Hymns devout and holy psalms 
 
 Singing everlastingly : 
 
 That we on earth, with undiscording voice, 
 
 May rightly answer that melodious noise ; 
 
 As once we did, till disproportioned sin 
 
 Jarred against nature's chime, and with harsh din 
 
 Broke the fair music that all creatures made 
 
 To their great Lord, whose love their motion swayed 
 
 In perfect diapason, whilst they stood 
 
 In first obedience, and their state of good. 
 
 O, may we soon again renew that song. 
 
 And keep in tune with heaven, till God ere long 
 
 .To his celestial concert us unite. 
 
 To live with him, and sing in endless mom of light ! 
 
 AN EPITAPH ON THE MARCHIONESS OF 
 WINCHESTER. 
 
 This rich marble doth inter 
 
 The honoured wife of Winchester, 
 
 A viscount's daughter, an earl's heir, 
 
 Besides what other virtues fair 
 
 Added to her noble birth. 
 
 More than she could own from earth. 
 
 Summers three times eight save one 
 
 She has told ; alas ! too soon, 
 
 After so short time of breath. 
 
 To house with darkness, and with death. 
 
 Yet had the number of her days 
 
 Been as complete as was her praise, 
 
 Nature and fate had had no strife 
 
 In giving limit to her life. 
 
 Her high hirtli and her graces sweet 
 Quickly found a lover meet ; 
 
AN EPITAPH. 
 
 159 
 
 The virgin quire for her request 
 The {jod that sits at marriage feast ; 
 He at their invoking came, 
 But with a scarce well-lighted flame; 
 And in his garland, as he stood, 
 Ye might discern a cypress-bud. 
 Once had the early matrons rutt 
 To greet her of a lovely son, 
 And now with second hope she goes. 
 And calls Lucina to her throes ; 
 But, whether by mischance or blame, 
 Atropos for Lucina came ; 
 And with remorseless cruelty 
 Spoiled at once both fruit and tree : 
 The hapless babe, before his birth, 
 Had burial, yet not laid in earth : 
 And the languished mother's womb 
 Was not long a living tomb. 
 
 So have I seen some tender slip, 
 Saved with care from Winter's nip. 
 The pride of her carnation train, 
 Plucked up by some unheedy swain, 
 Who only thought to crop the flower 
 New shot up from vernal shower ; 
 But the fair blossom hangs the head 
 Side-ways, as on a dying bed. 
 And those pearls of dew she wears, 
 Prove to be presaging tears, 
 Which the sad morn had let fall 
 On her hastening funeral. 
 
 Gentle lady, may thy grave 
 Peace and quiet ever have ; 
 After this thy travail sore. 
 Sweet rest seize thee evermore, 
 That, to give the world increase, 
 Shortened hast thy own life's lease. 
 Here, besides the sorrowing 
 That thy noble house doth bring, 
 
 Here be tears of perfect moan 
 
 Wept for thee in Helicon ; 
 
 And some flowers, and some bays, 
 
 For thy hearse, to strew the ways, 
 
 Sent thee from the banks of Came, 
 
 Devoted to thy virtuous name ; 
 
 Whilst thou, bright saint, high sittest in glory, 
 
 Next her, much like to thee in story, 
 
 That fair Syrian shepherdess 
 
 Who, after years of barrenness. 
 
 The highly favoured Joseph bore, 
 
 To him that served for her before. 
 
 And at her next birtli, much like thee, 
 
 Through pangs fled to felicity. 
 
 Far within the bosom bright 
 
 Of blazing Majesty and Light : 
 
 There with thee, new-welcome saint, 
 
 Like fortunes may her soul acquaint 
 
 With thee there clad in radiant sheen, 
 
 No marchioness, but now a queen. 
 
 SONG ON MAY MORNING. 
 
 Now the bright morning-star, day's harbinger, 
 Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her 
 The flowery May, who from her green lap throws 
 The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose. 
 Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire 
 Mirth, and youth, and warm desire ; 
 Woods and groves are of thy dressing, 
 Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. 
 Thus we salute thee with our early song, 
 And welcome thee, and wish ihee long. 
 
MISCELLANIES. 
 
 ANNO ^TATIS XIX. 
 
 At a Vacation Exercise in the College, part Latin, 
 part English. The Latin speeches ended, the Eng- 
 lish thus began : 
 
 Hail, native languagce, that by sinews weak 
 
 Didst move my first endeavouring tong-ue to speak, 
 
 And mades imperfect words with childish trips, 
 
 Half-unpronoanced, slide through my infant lips, 
 
 Driving dumb silence from the portal door. 
 
 Where he had mutely sat two years before : 
 
 Here I salute thee, and thy pardon ask, 
 
 That now I use thee in my latter task : 
 
 Small loss it is that hence can come unto thee, 
 
 I know my tongue but little grace can do thee : 
 
 Thou needest not be ambitious to be first, 
 
 Believe me, I have thither packed the worst: 
 
 And, if it happen as I did forecast, 
 
 The daintiest dishes shall be served up last. 
 
 I pray thee then deny me not thy aid. 
 
 For this same small neglect that I have made : 
 
 But haste thee straight to do me once a pleasure; 
 
 And from thy wardrobe bring thy chiefest treasure. 
 
 Not those new-fangled toys, and trimming slight 
 
 Which takes our late fantastics with delight ; 
 
 But cull those richest robes, and gayest attire, 
 
 Which deepest spirits and choicest wits desire : 
 
 I have some naked thoughts which rove about, 
 
 And loudly knock to have their passage out; 
 
 And, weary of their place, do only stay 
 
 Till thou hast decked them in thy best array ; 
 
 That so they may, without suspect or fears, 
 
 Fly swiftly to this fair assembly's ears ; 
 
 Yet I had rather, if I were to choose. 
 
 Thy service in some graver subject use, 
 
 Such as may make thee search thy coffers round, 
 
 Before thou clothe my fancy in fit sound : 
 
 Such where the deep-transported mind may soar 
 
 Above the wheeling poles, and at heaven's door 
 
 I^ok in, and see each blissful deity. 
 
 How he before the thundrous throne doth lie. 
 
 Listening to what unshorn Apollo sings 
 
 To the touch of golden wires, while Hebe brings 
 
 Immortal nectar to her kingly sire : 
 
 Then passing through the spheres of watchful fire. 
 
 And misty regions of wide air next under. 
 
 And hills of snow, and lofts of piled thunder, 
 
 May tell at length how green-eyed Neptune r-aves. 
 
 In heaven's defiance mustering all his waves; 
 
 Then sing of secret things that came to pass 
 
 When beldame Nature in her cradle was; 
 
 And last of kings, and queens, and heroes old, 
 
 Such as the wise Demodocus once told 
 
 In solemn songs at king Alcinous' feast. 
 
 While sad Ulysses' soul, and all the rest. 
 
 Are held, with his melodious harmony. 
 
 In willing chains and sweet captivity. 
 
 But fie, my wandering muse, how thou dost stray ! 
 
 Expectance calls thee now another way ; 
 
 Thou knowest it must be now thy only bent 
 
 To keep in compass of thy predicament: 
 
 Then quick about thy purposed business come. 
 
 That to the next I may resign my room. 
 
 Then Ens is represented as father of the Predicament* 
 his two sons, whereof the eldest stood for Substance 
 with hit canons, which Ens, thus speaking, explains : 
 
 Good luck befriend thee, son ; for, at thy birth. 
 The faery ladies danced upon the hearth ; 
 Thy drowsy nurse hath sworn she did them spy 
 Come tripping to the room where thou didst lie, 
 And, sweetly singing round about thy bed, 
 Strew all their blessings on thy sleeping head. 
 She heard them give thee this, that thou shouldst still 
 From eyes of mortals walk invisible : 
 Yet there is something which doth force my fear; 
 For once it was my dismal hap to hear 
 A Sibyl old, bow-bent with crooked age. 
 That far events full wisely could presage. 
 And in time's long and dark prospective glass. 
 Foresaw what future days should bring to pass; 
 ( * Your son,* said she, nor can you it prevent) 
 Shall subject be to many an accident. 
 
MISCELLANIES. 
 
 161 
 
 O'er all liis brethren he shall reign as king', 
 Yet every one shall make him underling' ; 
 And those, that cannot live from him asunder, 
 Ungratefully shall strive to keep him under ; 
 In worth and excellence he shall outgo them ; 
 Yet, being above them, he shall be below them ; 
 From others he shall stand in need of nothing, 
 Yet on his brothers shall depend for clothing. 
 To find a foe it shall not be his hap. 
 And peace shall lull him in her flowery lap ; 
 Yet shall he live in strife, and at his door 
 Devouring war shall never cease to roar ; 
 Yea, it shall be nis natural property 
 To harbour those that are at enmity. 
 What power, what force, what mighty spell, if not 
 Your learned hands, can loose this Gordian knot .'' 
 
 The next Quantity and Quality spake in prose ; then 
 Relation was called by his name. 
 
 Rivers, arise ; whether thou be the son 
 
 Of utmost Tweed, or Oose, or gulfy Dun, 
 
 Or Trent, who, like some earth-born giant, spreads 
 
 His thirsty arms along the indented meads ; 
 
 Or sullen Mole, that runneth underneath ; 
 
 Or Severn swift, guilty of maiden's death ; 
 
 Or rocky Avon, or of sedgy Lee, 
 
 Or coaly Tine, or ancient hallowed Dee ; 
 
 Or Humber loud, that keeps the Scythian's name ; 
 
 Or Medway smooth, or royal-towered Thame. 
 
 [Tlie rest was prose. '\ 
 
 On 
 
 AN EPITAPH 
 
 the admirable Dramatic Poet, William 
 Shahspeare. 
 
 What needs my Shakspeare for his honoured bones, 
 
 The labour of an age in piled stones ? 
 
 Or that his hallowed reliques should be hid 
 
 Under a star-y pointing pyramid ? 
 
 Dear son of memory, great heir of fame, 
 
 What needst thou such weak witness of thy name ? 
 
 Thou, in our wonder and astonishment, 
 
 JHast built thyself a livelong monument. 
 
 For whilst, to the shame of slow-endeavouring art, 
 
 Thy easy numbers flow ; and that each heart 
 
 Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalued book. 
 
 Those Delphic lines with deep impression took ; 
 
 Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving. 
 
 Dost make us marble with too much conceiving ; 
 
 And, so sepiilchered, in such pomp dost lie, 
 
 That king%, for such a tomb, would wish to die. 
 
 ON THE UNIVERSITY CARRIER, 
 
 Who sickened in the Time of his Vacancy ; being 
 forbid to go to London, by reason of the Plague. 
 
 Here lies old Hobson ; Death hath broke his girt, 
 
 And here, alas ! hath laid him in the dirt ; 
 
 Or else the ways being foul, twenty to one, ' 
 
 He's here stuck in a slough, and overthrown. 
 
 'Twas such a shifter, that, if truth were known. 
 
 Death was half-glad when he had got him down ; 
 
 For he had, any time this ten years full, 
 
 Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and The Bull. 
 
 And surely Death could never have prevailed. 
 
 Had not his weekly course of carriage failed ; 
 
 But lately finding him so long at home. 
 
 And thinking now his journey's end was come. 
 
 And that he had ta'en up his latest inn, 
 
 In the kind office of a chamberlin 
 
 Showed him his room where he must lodge that night, 
 
 Pulled off* his boots, and took away the light: 
 
 If any ask for him it shall be said, 
 
 ' Hobson has supt, and 's newly gone to bed.' 
 
 A nother on the Same. 
 
 Here lieth one, who did most truly prove 
 
 That he could never die while he could move ; 
 
 So hung his destiny, never to rot 
 
 While he might still jog on and keep bis trot ; 
 
 Made of sphere metal, never to decay 
 
 Until his revolution was at stay. 
 
 Time numbers motion, yet (without a crime 
 
 'Gainst old truth) motion numbered out his time : 
 
 And, like an engine moved with wheel and weight, 
 
 His principles being ceased, he ended straight. 
 
 Rest, that gives all men life, gave him his death. 
 
 And too much breathing put him out of breath ; 
 
 Nor were it contradiction to affirm, 
 
 Too long vacation hasted on his term. 
 
 Merely to drive the time away he sickened. 
 
 Fainted, and died, nor would with ale be quickened ; 
 
 ' Nay,' quoth he, on his swooning bed outstretched, 
 
 ' If I mayn't carry, sure I '11 ne'er be fetched, 
 
 But vow, though the cross doctors all stood hearers. 
 
 For one carrier put down to make six bearers.' 
 
 Ease was his chief disease ; and, to judge right. 
 
 He died for heaviness that his cart went light : 
 
 His leisure told him that his time was come, 
 
 And lack of load made his life burdensome, 
 
 That even to his last breath, (there be that say't,) 
 
 As he were pressed to death, he cried, ' More weight;' 
 
 But, had his doings lasted as they were, 
 
 He had been an immortal carrier. 
 
 Obedient to the moon he spent his date 
 
 In course reciprocal, and had his fate 
 
 Linked to the mutual flowing of the seas. 
 
 Yet (strange to think) his wain was his increase : 
 
 His letters are delivered all and gone, 
 
 Only remains this superscription. 
 
162 
 
 MISCELLANIES. 
 
 ON THE NEW FORCERS OF CONSCIENCE, 
 Under the Long Parliament. 
 
 Because you have thrown off* your prelate lord, 
 And with stiff vows renounced his Liturgy, 
 To seize the widowed whore Plurality 
 From them whose sin ye envied, not abhorred ; 
 
 Dare ye for this adjure the civil sword 
 
 To force our consciences that Christ set free. 
 And ride us with a classic hierarchy 
 Taught ye by mere A. S. and Rotherford t 
 
 Men, whose life, learning, faith, and pure intent. 
 Would have been held in high esteem with Paul, 
 Must now be named and printed heretics 
 By shallow Edwards and Scotch what d'ye call: 
 But we do hope to find out all your tricks. 
 Your plots and packing worse than those of Trent : 
 That so the Parliament 
 May, with their wholesome and preventive shears. 
 Clip your phylacteries, though balk your ears. 
 
 And succour our just fears. 
 When they shall read this clearly in your charge. 
 New Presbyter is but Old Priest writ large. 
 
TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 THE FIFTH ODE OF HORACE, Lib. I. 
 
 What slender youth, bedewed with liquid odours, 
 Courts thee on roses in some pleasant cave, 
 
 Pyrrha ? For whom bindest thou 
 
 In wreaths thy golden hair, 
 Plain in thy neatness ? O, how oft shall he 
 On faith, and changed gods, complain ; and seas 
 
 Rough with black winds, and storms 
 
 Unwonted shall admire ! 
 Who now enjoys thee credulous, all gold, 
 Who always vacant, always amiable, 
 
 Hopes thee, of flattering gales 
 
 Unmindful. Hapless they. 
 To whom thou untried seemest fair ! Me, in my vowed 
 Picture, the sacred wall declares to have hung 
 
 My dank and dropping weeds 
 
 To the stern god of sea. 
 
 FROM GEOFFREY OF MONMOUTH. 
 
 Brutus thus addresses Diana in the Country of 
 Leogecia. 
 
 Goddess of shades, and huntress, who at will 
 Walkest on the rolling spheres, and through the deep; 
 On thy third reign, the earth, look now, and tell 
 What land, what seJit of rest, thou biddest me seek. 
 What certain seat, where I may worship thee 
 For aye, with temples vowed and virgin quires. 
 
 To whom, sleeping before the Altar, Diana answen 
 in a Vision the same Night. 
 
 Brutus, far to the west, in the ocean wide, > 
 
 Beyond the realm of Gaul, a land there lies, 
 
 Sea-girt it lies, where giants dwelt of old ; 
 
 Now void, it fits thy people : thither bend 
 
 Thy course ; there shalt thou find a lasting seat; 
 
 There to thy sons another Troy shall rise. 
 
 And kings be born of thee, whose dreadful might 
 
 Shall awe the world, and conquer nations bold. 
 
 FROM DANTE. 
 
 Ah Constantine, of how much ill was cause, 
 Not thy conversion, but those rich domains 
 That the first wealthy pope received of thee ! 
 M 2 
 
 FROM DANTE. 
 
 Founded in chaste and humble poverty, 
 
 'Gainst them that raised thee dost thou lift thy horn ? 
 
 Impudent whore, where hast thou placed thy hope ? 
 
 In thy adulterers, or thy ill-got wealth .'* 
 
 Another Constantine comes not in haste. 
 
 FROM ARIOSTO. 
 
 Then passed he to a flowery mountain green. 
 Which once smelt sweet, now stinks as odiously : 
 This was the gift, if you the truth will have. 
 That Constantine to good Sylvester gave. 
 
 FROM HORACE. 
 
 Whom do we count a good man ? Whom but be 
 Who keeps the laws and statutes of the senate, 
 Who judges in great suits and controversies. 
 Whose witness and opinion wins the cause ? 
 But his own house, and the whole neighbourhood, 
 Sees his foul inside through his whited skin. 
 
 FROM EURIPIDES. 
 
 This is true liberty, when freeborn men. 
 Having to advise the public, may speak free; 
 Which be who can, and will, deserves high praise ; 
 Who neither can, nor will, may hold his peace ; 
 What can be juster in a state than this.'' 
 
 FROM HORACE. 
 
 Laughing, to teach the truth. 
 What hinders .'' As some teachers give to boys 
 Junkets and knacks, that they may learn apace. 
 
 FROM HORACE. 
 
 Joking decides great things, 
 Stronger and better oft than earnest can. 
 
 FROM SOPHOCLES. 
 
 'Tis you that say it, not I. You do the deeds, 
 And your ungodly deeds find me the words. 
 
 FROM SENECA. 
 
 There can be slain 
 No sacrifice to God more acceptable, 
 Than an unjust and wicked king. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 PSALM I. 
 
 (Done into verse 1653.) 
 
 Blessed is the man who hath not walked astray 
 In counsel of the wicked, and i' the way 
 Of sinners hath not stood, and in the seat 
 Of scomers hath not sat. But in the g^reat 
 Jehovah's law is ever his delight, 
 And in his law he studies day and night. 
 He shall be as a tree which planted grows 
 By watery streams, and in his season knows 
 To yield his fruit, and his leaf shall not fall. 
 And what he takes in hand shall prosper all. 
 Not so the wicked, but as chaff which fanned 
 The wind drives, so the wicked shall not stand 
 In judgment, or abide their trial then. 
 Nor sinners in the assembly of just men ; 
 For the Lord knows the upright way of the just, 
 And the way of bad men to ruin must. 
 
 PSALM II. 
 
 Pone August 8, 1653.) 
 Terzetti. 
 
 Why do the Gentiles tumult, and the nations 
 
 Muse a vain thing, the kings of the earth upstand 
 With power, and princes in their congregations 
 
 Lay deep their plots together through each land 
 Against the Lord and his Messiah dear ? 
 Let us break off, say they, by strength of hand 
 
 Their bonds, and cast from us, no more to wear, 
 
 Their twisted cords. He, who in heaven doth dwell. 
 Shall laugh ; the Lord shall scoff them ; then severe. 
 
 Speak to them in his wrath, and in his fell 
 And fierce ire trouble them. But I, saith he, 
 Anointed have my King (though ye rebel) 
 
 On Sion my holy hill. A firm decree 
 I will declare : the Lord to me hath said. 
 Thou art my Son, I have begotten thee 
 
 This day ; ask of me, and the grant is made : 
 
 As thy possession I on thee bestow 
 
 The Heathen ; and, as thy conquest to be swayed, 
 Earth's utmost bounds: them shalt thou bring full 
 low 
 
 With iron scepter bruised, and them disperse 
 
 Like to a potter's vessel shivered so. 
 And now be wise at length, ye kings averse. 
 
 Be taught, ye judges of the earth ; with fear 
 
 Jehovah serve, and let your joy converse 
 With trembling ; kiss the Son, lest he appear 
 
 In anger, and ye perish in the way, 
 
 If once his wrath take fire, like fuel sere. 
 Happy all those who have in him their stay. 
 
 PSALM III. 
 
 (August 9, 1653.) 
 
 When he fled from Absalom. 
 
 Lord, how many are my foes ! 
 
 How many those 
 That in arms against me rise ! 
 
 Many are they, 
 That of my life distrustfully thus say: 
 No help for him in God there lies. 
 But thou, Lord, art my shield, my glory, 
 Thee through my story, 
 The exalter of my head I count : 
 
 Aloud I cried 
 Unto Jehovah, he full soon replied, 
 And heard me from his holy mount. 
 I lay and slept ; I waked again ; 
 For my sustain 
 Was the Lord. Of many millions 
 
 The populous rout 
 I fear not, though, encamping round about, 
 They pitch against me their pavilions. 
 Rise, Lord ; save me, my God ; for thou 
 Hast smote ere now 
 On the cheek-bone all my foes, 
 Of men abhorred 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 165 
 
 Hast broke the teeth. This help was from the 
 Lord ; 
 Thy blessiug on thy people flows. 
 
 PSALM IV. 
 (August 10, 1653.) 
 
 Answer me when I call, 
 God of my righteousness ; 
 In straits and in distress. 
 Thou didst me disenthrall 
 And set at large ; now spare, 
 
 Now pity me, and hear my earnest prayer. 
 Great ones, how long will ye 
 My glory have in sconi ? 
 How long be thus forborn 
 Still to love vanity ? 
 To love, to seek, to prize, 
 
 Things false and vain, and nothing else but lies? 
 Yet know, the Lord hath chose. 
 Chose to himself a part. 
 The good and meek of heart 
 (For whom to choose he knows) ; 
 Jehovah from on high 
 
 Will hear my voice, what time to him I cry. 
 Be awed, and do not sin ; 
 Speak to your hearts alone, 
 Upon your beds, each one, 
 And be at peace within. 
 Offer the offerings just 
 
 Of righteousness, and in Jehovah trust. 
 Many there be that say. 
 Who yet will show us good .'' 
 Talking like this world's brood ; 
 But, Lord, thus let me pray : 
 On us lift up the light. 
 
 Lift up the favour of thy countenance bright. 
 Into my heart more joy 
 And gladness thou hast put. 
 Than when a year of glut 
 Their stores doth over-cloy. 
 And from their plenteous grounds 
 
 With vast increase their corn and wine abounds. 
 In peace at once will I 
 Both lay me down and sleep ; 
 For thou alone dost keep 
 Me safe where'er I lie ; 
 As in a rocky cell 
 
 Thou, Lord, alone, in safety makest me dwell. 
 
 PSALM V. 
 
 (August 12, 1653.) 
 
 Jehovah, to my words give ear. 
 
 My meditation weigh ; 
 The voice of my complaining hear. 
 My King and God ; for unto thee I pray. 
 Jehovah, thou my early voice 
 
 Shalt in the morning hear : 
 I' the morning I to thee with choice 
 Will rank my prayers, and watch till thou appear. 
 For thou art not a God that takes 
 
 In wickedness delight ; 
 Evil with thee no biding makes ; 
 Fools or mad men stand not within thy sight. 
 All workers of iniquity 
 
 Thou hatest ; and them unblest 
 Thou wilt destroy that speak a lie ; 
 The bloody and guileful man God doth detest. 
 But I will, in thy mercies dear. 
 
 Thy numerous mercies, go 
 Into thy house ; I, in thy fear, 
 Will towards thy holy temple worship low. 
 Lord, lead me in thy righteousness, 
 
 Lead me, because of those 
 That do observe if I transgress ; 
 Set thy ways right before, where my step goes. 
 For, in his filtering mouth unstable. 
 
 No word is firm or sooth ; 
 Their inside, troubles miserable ; 
 An open grave their throat, their tongue they smooth. 
 God, find them guilty, let them fall 
 
 By their own counsels quelled ; 
 Push them to their rebellions all 
 Still on; for against thee they have rebelled. 
 Then all who trust in thee, shall bring 
 
 Their joy ; while thou from blame 
 Defendest them : they shall ever sing 
 And shall triumph in thee, who lore thy name.' 
 For thou, Jehovah, wilt be found 
 
 To bless the just man still ; 
 As with a shield, thou wilt surround 
 Him with thy lasting favour and good will. 
 
 PSALM VI. 
 
 (August 13, 1653.) 
 
 Lord, in thine anger do not reprehend me, 
 Nor in thy hot displeasure me correct ; 
 Pity me. Lord, for I am much deject, 
 And very weak and faint ; heal and amend me : 
 For all my bones, that even with anguish ake. 
 Are troubled, yea, my soul is troubled sore. 
 And thou, Lord, how long? Tuni, Lord ; restore 
 My soul ; O save me for thy goodness' sake : 
 For in death no remembrance is of thee ; 
 Who in the grave can celebrate thy praise .'' 
 Wearied I am with sighing out my days ; 
 Nightly my couch I make a kind of sea ; 
 My bed I water with my tears ; mine eye 
 
 Through grief consumes, is waxen old and dark 
 I' the midst of all mine enemies that mark. 
 Depart, all ye that work iniquity, 
 Depart from me ; for the voice of my weeping 
 The Lord hath heard ; the Lord hath heard my 
 
 prayer ; 
 My supplication with acceptance fair 
 The Lord will own, and have me in his keeping. 
 
166 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 Mine enemies shall all be blank and dashed 
 
 With much confusion : then, grown red with shame, 
 They shall return in haste the way they came, 
 
 And iu a moment shall be quite abashed. 
 
 PSALM VII. 
 
 (August 14, 1653.) 
 
 Upon tlie words ofCush the Benjatnite against him. 
 
 Lord, my God, to thee I fly ; 
 Save me and secure me under 
 Thy protection while I cry ; 
 Lest, as a lion (and no wonder) 
 He haste to tear my soul asunder, 
 Tearing, and no rescue nigh. 
 
 Lord, my God, if I have thought 
 Or done tliis; if wickedness 
 Be in my hands ; if I have wrought 
 111 to him that meant me peace ; 
 Or to him have rendered less, 
 And not freed my foe for nought ; 
 
 Let the enemy pursue my soul. 
 And overtake it ; let him tread 
 My life down to the earth, and roll 
 In the dust my glory dead. 
 In the dust; and, there out-spread, 
 Lodge it with dishonour foul. 
 
 Rise, Jehovah, in thine ire. 
 Rouse thyself amidst the rage 
 Of my foes that urge like fire ; 
 And wake for me, their fury assuage ; 
 Judgment here thou didst engage 
 And command, which I desire. 
 
 So the assemblies of each nation 
 Will surround thee, seeking right ; 
 Thence to thy glorious habitation 
 Return on high, and in their sight. 
 Jehovah judgetfa most upright 
 All people from the world's foundation. 
 
 Judge me. Lord; be judge in this 
 According to my righteousness, 
 And the innocence which is 
 Upon me : cause at length to cease 
 Of evil men the wickedness 
 And their power that do amiss. 
 
 But the just establish fast, 
 
 Since thou art the just God that tries 
 
 Hearts and reins. On God is cast 
 
 My defence, and in him lies ; 
 
 In him who, both just and wise. 
 
 Saves the upright of heart at last. 
 
 God is a just judge and severe. 
 
 And God is every day offended ; 
 
 If the unjust will not forbear. 
 
 His sword he whets, his bow hath bended 
 
 Already, and for him intended 
 
 The tools of death, that waits him near. 
 
 (His arrows purposely made he 
 For them that persecute.) Behold 
 He travails big with vanity ; 
 Trouble he hath conceived of old. 
 As in a womb ; and from that mould 
 Hath at length brought forth a lie. 
 
 He digged a pit, and delved it deep, 
 
 And fell into the pit he made; 
 
 His mischief, that due course doth keep, 
 
 Turns on his head ; and his ill trade 
 
 Of violence will, undelayed. 
 
 Fall on his crown with ruin steep. 
 
 Then will I Jehovah's praise 
 According to his justice raise, 
 And sing the name and deity 
 Of Jehovah the Most High. 
 
 PSALM VIII, 
 (August 14, 1653.) 
 
 O Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 
 
 And glorious is thy name through all the earth ! 
 
 So as above the heavens thy praise to set 
 Out of the tender mouths of latest birth. 
 
 Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings thou 
 Hast founded strength, because of all thy foes. 
 
 To stint the enemy, and slack the avenger's brow, 
 That bends his rage thy Providence to oppose. 
 
 When I behold thy heavens, thy fingers' art, 
 
 The moon and stars, which thou so bright hast set 
 
 In the pure firmament; then saith my heart, 
 O, what is man that thou rememberest yet. 
 
 And thinkest upon him ; or of man begot, 
 That him thou visitest, and of him art found ! 
 
 Scarce to be less than gods, thou madest his lot. 
 With honour and with state thou hast him crowned. 
 
 O'er the works of thy hand thou madest him lord. 
 Thou hast put all under his lordly feet ; 
 
 All flocks and herds, by thy commanding word, 
 All beasts that in the field or forest meet, 
 
 Fowl of the heavens, and fish that through the wet 
 Sea-paths in shoals do slide, and know no dearth. 
 
 O Jehovah our Lord, how wondrous great 
 And glorious is thy name through all the earth ! 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 107 
 
 (April, 1648. J. M.) 
 
 Nine of the Psalms done'into metre, wherein all but 
 what is in a different character are the very words 
 of the text, translated from the original. 
 
 PSALM LXXX. 
 
 1 Thou, Shepherd, that dost Israel keep. 
 
 Give ear in time of need ; 
 Who leadest like a flock of sheep 
 
 Thy loved Joseph's seed ; 
 That sittcst between the cherubs bright. 
 
 Between their wings outspread ; 
 Shine forth, and from thy cloud give light. 
 
 And on our foes thy dread. 
 
 2 In Ephraim's view and Benjamin's, 
 
 And in Menasse's sight. 
 Awake thy strength, come, and be seen 
 To save us by thy might. 
 
 3 Turn us again, thy grace divine 
 
 To us, God, vouchsafe ; 
 Cause thou thy face on us to shine, 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 4 Lord God of hosts, how long wilt thou. 
 
 How long wilt thou declare 
 Thy smoking wrath, and angry brow 
 Against thy people's prayer ! 
 
 5 Thou feedest them with the bread of tears ; 
 
 Their bread with tears they eat; 
 And makest them largely drink the tears 
 Wherewith their cheeks are wet. 
 
 6 A strife thou makest us and a prey 
 
 To every neighbour foe ; 
 Among themselves they laugh, they play, 
 And flouts at us they throw. 
 
 7 Return us, and thy grace divine, 
 
 O God of hosts, vouchsafe ; 
 Cause thou thy face on us to shiue, 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 8 A vine from Egypt thou hast brought. 
 
 Thy free love made it thine. 
 And drovest out nations proud and haut. 
 To plant this lovely vine. 
 
 9 Thou didst prepare for it a place. 
 
 And root it deep and fast. 
 That it began to grow apace. 
 And filled the land at last. 
 
 10 With her green shade that covered all. 
 
 The hills were overspread ; 
 
 Her boughs as high as cedars tall 
 Advanced their lofty head. 
 
 11 Her branches on the western side 
 
 Down to the sea she sent. 
 
 And upward to that river wide 
 
 Her other branches went. 
 
 12 Why hast thou laid her hedges low 
 
 And broken down her fence. 
 That all may pluck her as they go. 
 With rudest violence ? 
 
 13 The tusked boar out of the wood 
 
 Up turns it by the roots ; 
 Wild beasts there browze, and make their food 
 Her grapes and tender shoots. 
 
 14 Return now, God of hosts, look down 
 
 From heaven, thy seat divine ; 
 Behold us, but without a frown, 
 And visit this thy vine. 
 
 15 Visit this vine, which thy right hand 
 
 Hath set, and planted long. 
 And the young branch, that for thyself 
 Thou hast made firm and strong. 
 
 16 But now it is consumed with fire. 
 
 And cut with axes down ; 
 
 They perish at thy dreadful ire, 
 
 At thy rebuke and frown. 
 
 17 Upon the man of thy right hand 
 
 Let thy good hand be laid ; 
 Upon the son of man whom thou 
 Strong for thyself hast made. 
 
 18 So shall we not go back from thee 
 
 To ways of sin and shame ; 
 Quicken us thou ; then gladly we 
 Shall call upon thy name. 
 
 19 Return us, and thy grace divine, 
 
 Lord God of hosts, vouchsafe ; 
 Cause thou tliy face on us to shine, 
 And then we shall be safe. 
 
 PSALM LXXXI. 
 
 1 To God our strength sing loud, and clear, 
 
 Sing loud to God our King ; 
 To Jacob's God, that all may hear. 
 Loud acclamations ring. 
 
 2 Prepare a hymn, prepare a song. 
 
 The timbrel hither bring ; 
 The cheerful psaltery bring along. 
 And harp, with pleasant string. 
 
168 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 3 Blow, as is wont, in the new moon 
 
 With trumpets' lo/t^ sound. 
 The appointed time, the day whereon 
 Our solemn least comes round. 
 
 4 This was a statute given of old 
 
 For Israel to observe ; 
 A law of Jacob's God, to hold. 
 
 From whence they might not swerve. 
 
 5 This he a testimony ordained 
 
 In Joseph, not to chnnge. 
 When, as he passed through Egypt land. 
 The tongue I heard was strange. 
 
 6 From burden, and from slavish toil, 
 
 I set his shoulder free : 
 His hands from pots, and miry soil. 
 Delivered were by me. 
 
 7 When trouble did thee sore assail, 
 
 On me then didst thou call ; 
 And I to free thee did not fail. 
 
 And led thee out of thrall. 
 I answered thee in thunder deep. 
 
 With clouds encompassed round ; 
 I tried thee at the water steep 
 
 Of Meriba renowned. 
 
 8 Hear, O my people, hearken well; 
 
 I testifj' to thee, 
 Thou ancient stock of Israel, 
 If thou wilt list to me : 
 
 9 Throughout the land of thy abode 
 
 No alien god shall be. 
 Nor shalt thou to a foreign god 
 In honour bend thy knee. 
 
 10 I am the Lord thy God, which brought 
 
 Thee out of Egypt land ; 
 Ask large enough, and I, besought. 
 Will grant thy full demand. 
 
 1 1 And yet my people would not hear. 
 
 Nor hearken to my voice ; 
 And Israel, whom I loved so dear, 
 Misliked me for his choice. 
 
 12 Then did I leave them to their will. 
 
 And to their wandering mind ; 
 Their own conceits they followed still, 
 Their own devices blind. 
 
 13 O, that my people would be wise, 
 
 To serve mc all their days ! 
 And O, that Israel would advise 
 To walk my righteous ways ! 
 
 14 Then would I soon bring down their foes, 
 
 That now to proudly rise ; 
 
 And turn my hand against all those 
 That are their enemies. 
 
 15 Who hate the Lord should then be fain 
 
 To bow to him and bend ; 
 But they, his people, should remain, 
 Their time should have no end. 
 
 16 And he would feed them yrom the shock 
 
 With flower of finest wheat, 
 And satisfy them from the rock 
 With honey for their meat. 
 
 PSALM LXXXII. 
 
 1 God in the great assembly stands 
 
 Of kings and lordly states ; 
 Among the gods on both his hands, 
 He judges and debates. 
 
 2 How long will ye pervert the right 
 
 With judgment false and wrong, 
 Favouring the wicked by your might. 
 Who thence grow bold andstrong P 
 
 3 Regard the weak and fatherless, 
 
 Despatch the poor man's cause ; 
 And raise the man in deep distress 
 Byjust and equal laws. 
 
 4 Defend the poor and desolate. 
 
 And rescue from the hands 
 
 Of wicked men the low estate 
 
 Of him that help demands. 
 
 5 They know not, nor will understand. 
 
 In darkness they walk on ; 
 The earth's foundations all are moved,' 
 And out of order gone. 
 
 6 I said that ye were gods, yea all 
 
 The sons of God Most High ; 
 
 7 But ye shall die like men, and fall 
 
 As other princes die. 
 
 8 Rise, God ; judge thou the earth in might. 
 
 This wicked earth redress; 
 For thou art he who shall by right 
 The nations all possess. 
 
 PSALM LXXXIIL 
 
 1 Be not thou silent now at length, 
 
 O God, hold not thy peace; 
 Sit thou not still, O God of strength, 
 We cry, and do not cease. 
 
 2 For lo, Xhy furimis foes now swell. 
 
 And storm outrageously; 
 And they that hate thee, proud andfell^ 
 Exalt their heads full high. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 109 
 
 3 Against thy people they contrive 
 
 Their plots and counsels deep ; 
 
 Them to ensnare they chiefly strive, 
 
 Whom thou dost hide and keep. 
 
 4 Come, let us cut them off, say they, 
 
 Till they no nation be ; 
 That Israel's name for ever may 
 Be lost in memory. 
 
 5 For they consult with all their might. 
 
 And all, as one in mind, 
 Themselves against thee they unite, 
 And in firm union bind. 
 
 6 The tents of Edom, and the brood 
 
 Of scornful Ishmael, 
 Moab, with them of Hagar's blood 
 That in the desert dwell, 
 
 7 Gebal and Ammon, there conspire, 
 
 KwA hateful kmdAec, 
 The Philistines, and they of Tyre, 
 Whose bounds the sea doth check. 
 
 8 With them great Ashur also bands. 
 
 And doth confirm the knot : 
 All these have lent their armed hands 
 To aid the sons of Lot. 
 
 9 Do to them as to Midian bol'l. 
 
 That wasted all the coast ; 
 To Sisera ; and, as is told. 
 
 Thou didst to Jabin's host. 
 When, at the brook of Kishon old, 
 
 They were repulsed and slain, * 
 
 10 At Endor quite cut off, and rolled 
 
 As dung upon the plain. 
 
 11 As Zeb and Oreb evil sped, 
 
 So let their princes speed ; 
 
 As Zeba and Zalmunna hied. 
 
 So let their princes bleed. 
 
 12 For they amidst their pride have said. 
 
 By right now shall we seize 
 God's houses, and will now invade 
 Their stately palaces. 
 
 13 My God, oh make them as a wheel. 
 
 No quiet let them, find ; 
 Giddy and restless let them reel 
 Like stubble from the wind. 
 
 14 As when an aged wood takes fire 
 
 Which on a sudden strays. 
 The greedy flame runs higher and higher 
 Till all the mountains blaze ; 
 
 15 So with thy whirlwind them pursue, 
 
 And with thy tempest chase; 
 
 16 And, till they yield thee honour due, 
 
 Lord, fill with shame their face. 
 
 17 Ashamed, and troubled, let them be, 
 
 Troubled, and shamed for ever; 
 Ever confounded, and so die 
 With shame, and scape it never. 
 
 18 Then shall they know, that thou, whose name 
 
 Jehovah is alone, 
 Art the Most High, and thou the same. 
 O'er all the earth art One. 
 
 PSALM LXXXIV. 
 
 1 How lovely are thy dwellings fair ! 
 
 O Lord of hosts, how dear 
 The pleasant tabernacles are. 
 Where thou dost dwell so near ! 
 
 2 My soul doth long and almost die 
 
 Thy courts, O Lord, to see ; 
 My heart and flesh aloud do cry, 
 living God, for thee. 
 
 3 There even the sT^airrow, freed from wrong^ 
 
 Hath found a house of rest ; 
 The swallow there to lay her young 
 
 Hath built her brooding nest; 
 Even by thy altars, liOrd of hosts. 
 
 They find their safe abode ; 
 And home they fly from round the coasts 
 
 Toward thee, my King, my God. 
 
 4 Happy, who in thy house reside, 
 
 Where thee they ever praise ! 
 
 5 Happy, whose strength in thee doth bide, 
 
 And in their hearts thy ways ! 
 
 6 They pass through Baca's thirsty vale. 
 
 That dry and barren ground ; 
 As through a fruitful watery dale, 
 Where springs and showers abound. 
 
 7 They journey on from strength to strength 
 
 With joy and gladsome cheer. 
 Till all before our God at length 
 In Sion do appear. 
 
 8 Lord God of hosts, hear now my prayer, 
 
 O Jacob's God, give ear ; 
 
 9 Thou, God, our shield, look on the face 
 
 Of thy anointed dear. 
 
 10 For one day in thy courts to be, 
 
 Is better, and more blest, 
 Than in the joys of vanity 
 
 A thousand days at best. 
 I, in the temple of my God, 
 
 Had rather keep a door. 
 Than dwell in tents, and rich abode 
 
 With sin for evermore. 
 
170 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 11 For God the Lord, bolh sun and shield, 
 
 Gives grace and glory bright; 
 No good from them shall be withheld 
 Whose ways are just and right. 
 
 12 Lord God of hosts, that reignest on high, 
 
 That man is truly blest, 
 Who only on thee doth rely, 
 And in thee only rest. 
 
 PSALM LXXXV. 
 
 1 Thy land tp favour graciously 
 
 Thou hast not, Lord, been slack ; 
 Thou hast from hard captivity 
 Returned Jacob back. 
 
 2 The iniquity thou didst forgive - 
 
 That wrought thy people woe ; 
 And all their sin, that did tfiee grieve. 
 Hast hid where none shall know. 
 
 3 Thine anger all thou hadst removed, 
 
 And calmly didst return 
 From thy fierce wrath, which we had proved 
 Far worse than fire to bum. 
 
 4 God of our saving health and peace, 
 
 Turn us, and us restore; 
 Thine indignation cause to cease 
 Towards us, and chide no more. 
 
 5 Wilt thou be angry without end, 
 
 For ever angry thus .'' 
 Wilt thou thy frowning ire extend 
 From age to age on us ? 
 
 6 Wilt thou not turn and hear our voice. 
 
 And us again revive. 
 That so thy people may rejoice 
 By thee preserved alive .'' 
 
 7 Cause us to see thy goodness, Lord, 
 
 To us thy mercy shew ; 
 Thy saving health to us afford, 
 And life in us renew. 
 
 8 And now, what God the Lord will speak, 
 
 I will go straight and hear. 
 For to his people he speaks peace. 
 
 And to his SAinisfull dear. 
 To his dear saints he will speak peace ; 
 
 But let them never more 
 Return to folly, but surcease 
 
 To trespass as before. 
 
 9 Surely, to such as do him fear 
 
 Salvation is at hand ; 
 And glory shall ere long appear 
 To dwell within our land. 
 
 10 Mercy and truth, that long were missed, 
 
 "Sow joyfully are met ; 
 Sweet peace and righteousness have kissed. 
 And hand in hand are set. 
 
 11 Truth from the earth, like to a flower. 
 
 Shall bud and blossom then; 
 And justice from her heavenly bower 
 Look down on mortal men. 
 
 12 The Lord will also then bestow 
 
 Whatever thing is good ; 
 Our land shall forth in plenty throw 
 Her fruits to be our food. 
 
 13 Before him righteousness shall go. 
 
 His royal harbinger : 
 Then will he come, and not be slow ; 
 His footsteps cannot err. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVI. 
 
 1 Thy gracious ear, O Lord, incline, 
 
 hear me, / thee pray ; 
 For I am poor, and almost pine 
 
 With need, and sad decay. 
 
 2 Preserve my soul ; for I have trod 
 
 Thy ways, and love the just; 
 Save thou thy servant, O my God, 
 Who still in thee doth trust. 
 
 3 Pity me, Lord, for daily thee 
 
 T call ; [4] O make rejoice 
 Thy servant's soul ; for, Lord, to thee 
 
 1 lift my soul and voice. 
 
 5 For thou art good, thou, Lord, art prone 
 
 To pardon, thou to all 
 Art full of mercy, thou alone, 
 To them that on theci call. 
 
 6 Unto my supplication. Lord, 
 
 Give ear, and to the cry 
 Of my incessant prayers afford 
 Thy hearing graciously. 
 
 7 I, in the day of my distress. 
 
 Will call on thee ybr aid ; 
 For thou wilt grant me free access. 
 And answer what I prayed, 
 
 8 Like thee among the gods is none, 
 
 O Lord ; nor any works 
 Of all that other gods have done 
 Like to thy glorious works. 
 
 9 The nations all whom thou hast made 
 
 Shall come, and all shall frame 
 To bow them low before thee, Lord, 
 And glorify thy name. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 171 
 
 10 For great thou art, and wonders great 
 
 By thy strong hand are done; 
 Thou, m thy eveidasting seat, 
 Remainest God alone. 
 
 1 1 Teach me, O Lord, thy way most right, 
 
 I in thy truth will bide ; 
 To fear thy name my heart unite, 
 So shall it never slide. 
 
 12 Thee will I praise, O Lord, my God, 
 
 Thee hotiour and adore 
 With my whole heart, and blaze abroad 
 Thy name for evermore. 
 
 13 For great thy mercy is toward me, 
 
 And thou hast freed my soul. 
 Even from the lowest hell set free, 
 From deepest darkness foul. 
 
 14 O God, the proud against me rise, 
 
 And violent men are met 
 To seek my life, and in their eyes 
 No fear of thee have set. 
 
 15 But thou. Lord, art the God most mild, 
 
 Readiest thy grace to shew. 
 Slow to be angry, and art styled 
 Most merciful, most true. 
 
 16 O turn to me thy face at length, 
 
 And me have mercy on ; 
 Unto thy servant give thy strength. 
 And save thy handmaid's son. 
 
 17 Some sign of good to me afford. 
 
 And let my foes then see. 
 And be ashamed ; because thou. Lord, 
 Dost help and comfort me. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVII. 
 
 1 Among the holy mountains high 
 
 Is his foundation fast; 
 There seated is his sanctuary. 
 His temple there is placed. 
 
 2 Sion'syair gates the Lord loves more 
 
 Than all the dwellings yirir 
 Of Jacob's land, though there be store, 
 And all within his care. 
 
 3 City of God, most glorious things 
 
 Of thee abroad are spoke; 
 
 4 I mention Egypt, where proud kings 
 
 Did our forefathers yoke. 
 I mention Babel to my friends, 
 
 Philistiayu// of scorn ; 
 And Tyre with Ethiop's utmost ends, 
 
 Lo this man there was bom : 
 
 5 But twice that praise shall in our ear 
 
 Be said of Sion last ; 
 This and this man was born in her; 
 High God shall fix her fast. 
 
 6 The Lord shall write it in a scroll. 
 
 That ne'er shall be out-worn. 
 When he the nations doth enroll, 
 That this man there was boru. 
 
 7 Both they who sing, and they who dance, 
 
 With sacred songs are there ; 
 In HiGQ fresh brooks and soft streams glance, 
 And all my fountains clear. 
 
 PSALM LXXXVIII. 
 
 « 
 
 1 Lord God, that dost me save and keep. 
 
 All day to thee I cry ; 
 And all night long before thee weep. 
 Before thee prostrate lie. 
 
 2 Into thy presence let my prayer 
 
 With sighs devout ascend. 
 And to my cries, that ceaseless are. 
 Thine ear with favour bend. 
 
 3 For, cloyed with woes and trouble store. 
 
 Surcharged my soul doth lie ; 
 My life, at deatli's uncheerful door. 
 Unto the grave draws nigh. 
 
 4 Reckoned I am with them that pass 
 
 Down to the dismal pit ; 
 
 I am a man, but weak, alas ! 
 
 And for that name unfit. 
 
 5 From life discharged and parted quite 
 
 Among the dead to sleep ; 
 And like the slain in bloody fight. 
 
 That in the grave lie deep : 
 Whom thou rememberest no more. 
 
 Dost never more regard. 
 Them from thy hand delivered o'er. 
 
 Death's hideous house hath barred. 
 
 6 Thou in the lowest pit profound 
 
 Hast set me all forlorn. 
 Where thickest darkness hovers round. 
 In horrid deeps to mourn. 
 
 7 Thy wrath, y?'o»i which no shelter saves, 
 
 Full sore doth press on me ; 
 Thou breakest upon me all thy waves, 
 And all thy waves break me. 
 
 8 Thou dost my friends from me estrange, 
 
 And makest me odious, 
 Me to them odious, yar they change. 
 And I here pent up thus. 
 
172 
 
 PSALMS. 
 
 9 Through sorrow, and affliction great, 
 
 Mine eje grows dim and dead; 
 Lord, all the day I thee entreat, 
 My bands to tbec I spread. 
 
 10 Wilt thou do wonders on the dead ? 
 
 Shall the deceased arise. 
 And praise thee from their loathsome bed 
 IVith pate and hollow eyes P 
 
 11 Shall they thy loving-kindness tell, 
 
 On whom the grave hath hold P 
 Or they, who in perdition dwell, 
 Thy faithfulness unfold P 
 
 12 In darkness can thy mighty hand 
 
 Or wondrous acts be known ? 
 Thy justice in the gloomy land # 
 Of dark oblivion ? 
 
 13 But I to thee, O Lord, do cry, 
 
 Ere yet my life be spent ; 
 And up to thee my prayer doth hie 
 Each morn, and thee prevent. 
 
 14 Why wilt thou. Lord, my soul forsake, 
 
 And hide thy face from me, 
 
 15 That am already bruised, and shake 
 
 With terror sent from thee .•* 
 Bruised and afflicted, and so low 
 
 As ready to expire ; 
 While I thy terrors undergo, 
 
 Astonished with thine ire. 
 
 16 Thy fierce wrath over me doth flow ; 
 
 Thy threatenings cut me through : 
 
 17 All day they round about me go. 
 
 Like waves they me pursue. 
 
 18 Lover and friend thou bast removed, 
 
 And severed from me far : 
 They fly me now whom I have loved. 
 And as in darkness are. 
 
 A PARAPHRASE ON PSALM CXIV. 
 
 This and the following Psalm were done by the 
 Author at fifteen years old. 
 
 When the blest seed of Terah's faithful son. 
 After long toil, their liberty had won ; 
 And past from Pharian fields to Canaan land, 
 Led by the strength of the Almighty's hand ; 
 Jehovah's wonders were in Israel shown. 
 His praise and glory was in Israel known. 
 That saw the troubled sea, and shivering fled. 
 And sought to hide his froth-becurled head 
 Low in the earth ; Jordan's clear streams recoil, 
 As a faint host that bath received the foil. 
 
 The high huge-bellied mountains skip, like rams 
 Amongst their ewes ; the little hills, like lambs. 
 Why fled the ocean? And why skipt the mountains? 
 Why turned Jordan toward his crystal fountains ? 
 Shake, earth ; and at the presence be aghast 
 Of him that ever was, and aye shall last; 
 That glassy floods from rugged rocks can crush. 
 And make soft rills from fiery flint-stones gush. 
 
 PSALM CXXXVI. 
 
 Let us, with a gladsome mind. 
 Praise the Lord, for he is kind ; 
 
 For his mercies aye endure. 
 
 Ever faithful, ever sure. 
 
 Let us blaze his name abroad. 
 For of gods he is the God ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 O, let us his praises tell. 
 Who doth the wrathful tyrants quell; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who, with his miracles, doth make 
 Amazed heaven and earth to shake : 
 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who, by his wisdom, did create 
 The painted heavens so full of state ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who did the solid earth ordain 
 To rise above the watery plain ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Who, by his all-commanding might. 
 Did fill the new-made world with light; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And caused the golden-tressed sun 
 All the day long his course to run ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 The horned moon to shine by night. 
 Amongst her spangled sisters bright ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He, with his thunder-clasping band. 
 Smote the first-born of Egypt land ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And, in despite of Pharaoh fell. 
 He brought from thence his Israel ; 
 For bis, &c. 
 
 The ruddy waves he clefl in twain 
 Of the Erythrsean main ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
PSALMS. 
 
 173 
 
 The floods stood still, like walls of glass, 
 While the Hebrew bands did pass ; 
 For his, Sec. 
 
 But full soon they did devour 
 The tawny king with all his power ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 His chosen people he did bless 
 In the wasteful wilderness ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 In bloody battle he brought down 
 Kings of prowess and renown; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He foiled bold Seon and his host, 
 That ruled the Amorrean coast; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And large-limbed Og he did subdue, 
 With all his over-hardy crew ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And to his servant Israel 
 He gave their land, therein to dwell ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 He hath, with a piteous eye, 
 Beheld us in our misery ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 And freed us from the slavery 
 Of the invading enemy ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 All living creatures he doth feed, 
 And with full hand supplies their need ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 Let us therefore warble forth 
 His mighty vajesty and worth ; 
 For his, &c. 
 
 That his mansion hath on high 
 Above the reach of mortal eye ; 
 
 For his mercies aye endure, 
 
 Ever faithful, ever sure. 
 
ELEGIARUM LIBER. 
 
 m 
 
 ELEGIA PRIMA. 
 Ad Carolum Deodatum. 
 
 Tandem, chare, tuse mihi pervenere tabellte, 
 
 Pertulit et voces nuncia charta tuas ; 
 Pertulit occidua Devte Cestrensis ab ora 
 
 Virgivium prono qua petit amne salum. 
 Multum, crede, juvat terras aluisse remotas 
 
 Pectus amans nostri, tamque fidcle caput, 
 Quodque mihi lepidura tellus longinqua sodalem 
 
 Debet, at unde brevi reddere jussa velit. 
 Me teuet urbs reflua quam Thamesis alluit unda, 
 
 Meque nee invitum patria dulcis habet. 
 Jam nee arundiferum mihi cura revisere Camum, 
 
 Nee dudum veiiti me laris angit amor. 
 Nuda nee arva placent, umbrasque negantia molles, 
 
 Quam male Phoebicolis convenit ille locus I 
 Nee duri libet usque minas perferre magistri 
 
 Cteteraque ingenio non subeunda meo. 
 Si sit hoc cxilium patrios adiisse penates, 
 
 £t vacuum curis otia grata sequi, 
 Non ego vel profugi nomen, sortemve recuso, 
 
 Leetus et cxilii conditione fruor. 
 utinam vates nunquam graviora tulisset 
 
 Ille Tomitano flebilis exul agro ; 
 Non tunc lonio quicquam cecisset Homero, 
 
 Neve foret victo laus tibi prima Maro, 
 Tempora nam licet hie placidis dare libera Musis, 
 
 Et totum rapiunt me mea vita libri. 
 Excipit hinc fessum sinuosi pompa theatri, 
 
 Et vocat ad plausus garrula scena suos. 
 Seu catus auditur senior, seu prodigus hceres, 
 
 Seu procus, aut posita casside miles adest, 
 Sive decennali foecundus lite patronus 
 
 Detonat inculto barbara verba foro ; 
 Saepe vafer gnato succurrit servus amanti, 
 
 Et nasum rigidi fallit ubique patris ; 
 Saepe novos illic virgo mirata calores 
 
 Quid sit amor ncscit, dum quoque nescit, amat. 
 Sive cruentatum furiosa Tragoedia sceptrum 
 
 Quassat, et effusb crinibus ora rotat, 
 
 Et dolet, et specto, juvat ct spectasse dolendo, 
 
 Interdum et lacrymis dulcis amator inest: 
 Seu puer infelix indelibata reliquit 
 
 Gaudia, et abrupto fiend us amore cadit: 
 Seu ferus e tenebris iterat Styga criminis ultor 
 
 Conscia funereo pectora torre movens : 
 Seu moeret Pelopcia domus, seu nobilis Hi, 
 
 Aut luit incestos aula Creontis avos. 
 Sed ueque sub tecto semper nee in urbe latemus, 
 
 Irrita nee nobis tempora vcris eunt. 
 Nos quoque lucus habet vicina consitus ulmo, 
 
 Atque suburbani nobilis umbra loci. 
 Saepius hie blandas spirantia sidera flammas 
 
 Virgineos videas praeteriisse choros. 
 Ah quoties dignae stupui miracula formae, 
 
 Quae possit senium vel repararc Jovis ! 
 Ah quoties vidi superantia lumina gemmas, 
 
 Atque faces, quotquot volvit uterque polus ; 
 Collaque bis vivi Pelopis quae brachia vincant, 
 
 Quaeque fluit puro nectare tincta via, 
 Et decus eximium frontis, tremulosque capillos, 
 
 Aurea quce fallax retia teiidit Amor ; 
 Pellacesque genas, ad quos Hyacinthina sordet 
 
 Purpura, et ipse tui floris, Adoni, rubor! 
 Cedite laudatse toties Heroides olim, 
 
 Et quaecunque vagum cepit arnica .Jovcm. 
 Cedite Achaemeniae turrita f'ronte puellae 
 
 Et quot Susa colunt, Memnonianique Ninon. 
 Vos etiam Danaoe fasces submiltite Nymphte, 
 
 Et vos Iliacoe, Romuleaeque nurus. 
 Nee Pompeiauas Tarpeia Musa columnas 
 
 Jactet, et Ausoniis plena theatra stolis. 
 Gloria Virginibus debetur prima Britannis, 
 
 Extera sat tibi sit foemina, posse sequi. 
 Tuque urbs Dardaniis, Londinum, structa colonis, 
 
 Turrigerum late conspicienda caput, 
 Tu nimium felix intra tua moenia claudis 
 
 Quicquid formosi pendulus orbis habet. 
 Non tibi tot ccelo scintillant astra sereno 
 
 EndymioneuB turba ministra dece, 
 Quot tibi, conspicuie fornuique auroque, puellae 
 
 Per medias radiant turba vidcnda vias. 
 
POEMATA. 
 
 176 
 
 Creditur hue geminis venisse invecta columbis 
 
 Alma phare trigero milite cincta Venus, 
 Huic Cnidon, et riguas Simoentis flumine valles, 
 
 Huic Paphon, et roseam posthabitura Cypron. 
 Ast ego, dum pueri sinit indulgentia cseci, 
 
 Moenia quam subito linquere fausta paro; 
 Et vitare procul malefide infamia Circes 
 
 Atria, divini Molyos usus ope. 
 Stat quoqne juncosas Cauii renieare paludes, 
 
 Atque iterum raucsE murmur adire Scholse. 
 Interea fidi parvum cape munus amici, 
 
 Faucaque in altemos verba coacta modos. 
 
 ELEGIA SECUNDA. 
 
 (Anno iEtatis 17.) 
 
 In obitum PrcBconis Academici Cantabrigiensis. 
 
 Te, qui conspicuus baculo fulgente solebas 
 
 Palladium toties ore ciere grerrem. 
 Ultima pracconum preconem te quoque saeva 
 
 Mors rapit, officio nee favet ipsa suo, 
 Candidiora licet fuerint tibi tempora plumis 
 
 Sub quibus accipimus delituisse Jovem ; 
 O diijnus tamen Hsemonio juvenescere succo, 
 
 Dig^nus in ^Esonios vivere posse dies, 
 Dig'nus quem Stygiis mcdica rcvocaret ab undis 
 
 Arte Coronides, saepe rogante dea. 
 Tu si jussus eras acies accire togatas, 
 
 Et celer a Phoebo nuncius ire tuo, 
 Talis in Iliaca stabat CylleniuL. aula 
 
 Alipes, setherea missus ab arce Patris. 
 Talis et Eurybates ante ora furentis Acbillei 
 
 Retulit Atridee jussa severa ducis. 
 Magna sepulchrorum regina, satelles Averni, 
 
 Seeva nimis Musis, Palladi saeva nimis, 
 Quin illos rapias qui pondus inutile terrse, 
 
 Turba quidem est telis ista petenda tuis. 
 Testibus hunc igitur pullis, Academia, luge, 
 
 Et madeant lachrymis nigra feretra tuis. 
 Fundat et ipsa modos querebunda Elegeia tristes, 
 
 Personet et totis noenia maesta scholis. 
 
 ELEGIA TERTIA. 
 
 (Anno .ffitatis 17.) 
 
 In obitum Prasulis Wintoniensis. 
 
 McESTUs eram, et tacitus nullo comitante sedebara, 
 
 Haerebantque animo tristia plura meo, 
 Protinus en subiit funestee cladis imago 
 
 Fecit in Angliaco quam Libitina solo ; 
 Dum procerum ingressa est splendentes marmore 
 turres, 
 
 Dira sepulchrali mors metuenda face ; 
 Pulsavitque auro gravidos et jaspide muros. 
 
 Nee metuit satrapum sternere falce greges. 
 Tunc memini clarique ducis, fratrisque verendi 
 
 Intempestivis ossa cremata regis ; 
 
 Et memini Heroum quos vidit ad aethera raptos, 
 
 Flevit et amissos Belgia tota duces. 
 At te praecipu^ luxi, dignissime Praesul, 
 
 Wintoniaeque olini gloria magna tuoe ; 
 Delicui fletu, et tristi sic ore querebar. 
 
 Mors fera, Tartareo diva secunda Jovi, 
 Nonne satis quod sylva tuas persentiat iras, 
 
 Et quod in herbosos jus tibi detur agros, 
 Quodque afflata tuo marcescant lilia tabo, 
 
 Et crocus, et pulchne Cypridi sacra rosa, 
 Nee sinis ut semper fluvio contermina quercus 
 
 Miretur lapsus praetereuntis aquae ? 
 Et tibi succumbit, liquido quse plurima coelo 
 
 Evehitur pennis, quamlibet augur avis, 
 Et quae mille nigris errant animalia sylvis, 
 
 Et quod alunt mutum Proteos antra pecus. 
 Invida, tanti tibi cum sit concessa potestas ; 
 
 Quid juvat humana tingere caede manus? 
 Nobileque in pectus certas acuisse sagittas, 
 
 Semideamque animam sede fugasse sua ? 
 Talia dum lacrymans alto sub pectore volvo, 
 
 Roscidus occiduis Hesperus exit aquis, 
 Et Tartessiaco submercerat eequore currum 
 
 Phcebus, ab Eoo littore mensus iter. 
 Nee mora, membra cavo posui refovenda cubili, 
 
 Condiderant oculos noxque soporque meos: 
 Cum mibi visus eram lato spatiarier agro, 
 
 Heu nequit ingenium visa referre meum. 
 lUic punicea radiabant omnia luce, 
 
 Ut matutino cum juga sole rubent. 
 Ac veluti cum pandit opes Tbaumantia proles, 
 
 Vestitu nituit multicolore solum. 
 Non dea tarn variis ornavit floribus hortos 
 
 Alcinoi, Zephyro Chloris amata levi. 
 Flumina vernantes lanibtint argentea campos, 
 
 Ditior Hesperio flavet arena Tago. 
 Serpit odoriferas per opes levis aura Favoni, 
 
 Aura sub innumeris humida nata rosis, 
 Talis in extremis terrae Gangetidis oris 
 
 Luciferi regis fingitur esse domus. 
 Ipse racimeferis dum densas vitibus umbras 
 
 Et pellucentes miror ubique locos, 
 Ecce mibi subito Praesul Wintonius astat, 
 
 Sidereum nitido fulsit in ore jubar; 
 Vestis ad auratos defluxit Candida talos. 
 
 Insula divinum cinxerat alba caput. 
 Dumque senex tali incedit venerandus amictu, 
 
 Intremuit laeto florea terra sono. 
 Agmina gemmatis plaudunt coclestia pennis, 
 
 Pura triumphali personat SRthra tuba. 
 Quisque novum amplexu comitem cantuque salutat, 
 
 Hosque aliquis placido micit ab ore sonos; 
 ' Nate veni, et patrii felix cape gaudia regni, 
 
 Semper ab bine duro, nate, labore vaca.' 
 Dixit, et aligeras! tetigeruut nablia turmae. 
 
 At mibi cum tenebris aurea pulsa quies. 
 Flebam turbatos Cephaleia pellice somnos, 
 
 Talia contingant somnia saepe mibi. 
 
176 
 
 POEMATA. 
 
 ELEGIA QUARTA. 
 
 (Anno .^tatis la) 
 
 Ad Thomam Junium praceptorem suum, apnd mer- 
 catores Anglicos Hamburga agentes, pastor is munere 
 fungentem. 
 
 CuRRE per immensurn subito, mea litera, pontum, 
 
 I, pete Teutonicos laeve per aequor agros ; 
 Segnes rumpe moras, et nil, precor, obstet eunti, 
 
 £t festinantis nil remoretur iter. 
 Ipse ejfo Sicanio frtenantem carcere ventos 
 
 ^olon, et virides sollicitabo Deos, 
 Caeruleamque suis comitatam Dorida Nvmphis, 
 
 Ut tibi dent placidam per sua regna viam. 
 At tu, si poteris, celcres tibi sume jugales, 
 
 Vecta quibus Colchis fupfitab ore viri; 
 Aut queis Triptolemus Scjthicas devenit in eras 
 
 Gratus Eleusina missus ab urbe puer. 
 Atque ubi Germanas flavere videbis arenas 
 
 Ditis ad Hamburgte moenia flecte gradum, 
 Dicitur occiso quae ducere nomen ab Hama, 
 
 Cimbrica quern fertur clava dedisse neci. 
 Vivit ibi antiquae clarus pietatis honore 
 
 Prsesul Cbristicolas pascere doctus oves; 
 Ille quidem est aninise plusquam pars altera nostree, 
 
 Dimidio vitse vivere cogor ego. 
 Hei mihi quot pelagi, quot montes interjecti 
 
 Me faciunt alia parte carere mei ! 
 Charier ille mihi quam tu doctissime Graium 
 
 Cliniadi, prouepos qui Telamonis erat ; 
 Quamque Stagirites generoso raagnus alumno, 
 
 Quern peperit Libyco Cbaonis alma Jovi. 
 Qualis Amyntorides, quails Pbilyreius Heros 
 
 Myrmidonum regi, talis et ille mihi. 
 Primus ego Aonios illo prteunte recessus 
 
 Lustrabam, et bifidi sacra vireta jugi, 
 Pierosque hausi latices, Clioque favente, 
 
 Castalio sparsi Iseta ter ora mero. 
 ilammeus at signum ter viderat arietis vEthon, 
 
 Induxitque auro lanea terga novo, 
 Bisque novo terram sparsisti, Chlori, senilem 
 
 Gramine, bisque tuas abstulit Auster opes: 
 Necdura ejus licuit mihi lumina pascere vultu, 
 
 Aut linguae dulces aure bibisse sonos. 
 Vade igitur, cursuque Eurum prseverte sonorura, 
 
 Quam sit opus monitis res docet, ipsa vides. 
 Inreuies dulci cum conjuge forte sedentem, 
 
 Mulcentem gremio pignora chara suo, 
 Forsitan aut veterum prcelarga volumina patrura 
 
 V^ersantem, aut veri biblia sacra Dei, 
 Coelestive animas saturantem rore tenellas, 
 
 Grande salutiferse religiouis opus. 
 Utque solet, multam sitdicere cura salutem, 
 
 Dicere quam decuit, si modo adesset, herum. 
 Haec quoqiie, paulum oculos in humum defixa modestos 
 
 Verba rerccundo sis memor ore loqui : 
 HfiBc tibi, si teneris vacat inter praeli Musis, 
 
 Mittit ab Angliaco littore fida manus, 
 Accipe siuceram, quamvis sit sera, salutem; 
 
 Fiat et hoc ipso gratior ilia tibi. 
 Sera quidem, sed vera fuit, quam casta recepit 
 
 Icaris a lento Penelopeia viro. 
 Ast ego quid volui manifcstum tollere crimen, 
 
 Ipse quod ex omni parte Icvare nequit? 
 Arguitur tardus merito, noxamque fatetur, 
 
 Et pudet officium deseruisse suum. 
 Tu modo da veniani fasso, veuiamque roganti, 
 
 Crimiiia diniinui, quee patucre, soient. 
 Non ferus in pavidos rictus diducit hiantes 
 
 Vulnifico prouos nee rapit unguc leo. 
 Siepe sarissiferi crudelia pectora Thracis 
 
 Supplicis ad moestasdelicuerepreces. 
 Extensaeque manus avertunt fulminis ictus, 
 
 Placat et iratos hostia parva Deos. 
 Jamquc diu scripsisse tibi fuit impetus illi, 
 
 Neve moras ultra ducere passus Amor ; 
 Nam vaga Fama refert, heu nuntia vera malorum ! 
 
 In tibi finitimis bella tumere locis, 
 Teque tuamque urbem truculento milite cingi, 
 
 Et jam Saxonicos arma parasse duces, 
 Te circum lat6 campos populatur Enyo, 
 
 Et sata came virum jam cruor arva rigat ; 
 Germanisque suum concessit Thracia Martem, 
 
 lUuc Odrysios Mars pater egit equos; 
 Perpetuoque comans jam deOorescit oliva, 
 
 Fugit et eerisonam Diva perosa tubam, 
 Fugit, io! terris, et jam non ultima virgo 
 
 Creditur ad superas justa volasse domos. 
 Te tamen interea belli circumsonat horror, 
 
 Vivis et ignoto solus inopsque solo; 
 Et, tibi quam patrii non exhibuere penates, 
 
 Sede peregrina quaeris egenus opem. 
 Patria dura parens, et saxis ssevior albis 
 
 Spumea quee pulsat littoris unda tui, 
 Siccine te decet innocuos exponere foetus, 
 
 Siccine in externam ferrea cogis humum, 
 Et sinis ut terris quaerant alimenta remotis 
 
 Quos tibi prospiciens miserat ipse Deus, 
 Et qui laeta ferunt de coelo nuntia, quique 
 
 Quae via post cineres ducat ad astra, docent? 
 Digna quidem Stygiis quae vivas clausa tenebris, 
 
 ^ternaque animee digna perire fame! 
 Hand aliter vates terrae Thesbitidis olim 
 
 Pressit iuassueto devia tesqua pede, 
 Desertasque Arabum salebras, dum regis Achabi 
 
 Effugit atque tuas, Sidoni dira, manus. 
 Talis et horrisono laceratus membra flagello, 
 
 Paulus ab ^mathia pellitur urbe Cilix. 
 Piscoseeque ipsum Gergessae civis lesum 
 
 Finibus ingratus jussit abire suis. 
 At tu sume animos, nee spes cadat anxia curis, 
 
 Nee tua concutiat decolor ossa metus. 
 Sis etenim quamvis fulgentibus obsitus armis, 
 
 Intententque tibi millia tela necem. 
 At nullis vel inernie latus violabitur armis, 
 
 Deque tuo cuspis nulla cruorc bibet. 
 Namque eris ipse Dei radiante sub ajgide tutus, 
 
 Ille tibi custos, et pugil ille tibi ; 
 Ille SioneetB qui tot sub moenibus arcis 
 
 Assyrios fudit nocte silente viros ; 
 
POEMATA. 
 
 177 
 
 Inque fug-am vertit quos in Samaritidas oras 
 
 Misit ab antiqiiis prisca Damascus agris, 
 Terruit et densas pavido cum reg-e cohortes, 
 
 Acre dum vacuo bucciiia clara sonat, 
 Cornea pulvereum dum verberat ung-ula campum, 
 
 Currus arenosam dum quatit actus humum, 
 Auditurque hinnitus equorura ad bellaruentum, 
 
 Et strepitus ferri, murmuraque alta virum. 
 Et tu (quod superest miseris) sperare memento, 
 
 Et tua magnanimo pectore vince mala; 
 Nee dubites quandoque frui melioribus annis, 
 
 Atque iterum patrios posse videre lares. 
 
 ELEGIA QUINTA. 
 
 (Anno ^tatis 20.) 
 In adventum veris. 
 
 In se perpetuo Tempus revolubile gyro 
 
 Jam revocat Zepbyros vere tepente novos; 
 Jnduiturque brevem Tellus reparata juventam, 
 
 Jamque soluto gelu dulce virescit humus. 
 Fallor.'' an et nobis redeunt in carmina vires, 
 
 Ingeniumque mihi munere veris adest.-* 
 Munere veris adest, iterumque vigescit ab illo 
 
 (Quis putet) atque aliquodjam sibi jMscit o|)nR. 
 Castalis ante oculos, bifidumque cacumen oberrat, 
 
 Et mibi Pjrenen somnia nocte ferunt ; 
 Concitaque arcane fervent mihi pectora motu, 
 
 Et furo, et sonitas me sacer irtus agit. 
 Delius ipse venit, video Peneide lauro 
 
 Implicitos crines, Delius ipse venit. 
 Jam mibi mens liquidi raptatur in ardua coeli, 
 
 Perque vagas nubes corpore liber eo; 
 Perque umbras, perque antra feror penetralia vatum, 
 
 Et mihi fana patent interiora Dciini ; 
 Intuiturque animus toto quid agatur Oljmpo, 
 
 Nee fugiunt oculos Tartara caeca moos. 
 Quid tam grande sonat distento spiritus ore .'* 
 
 Quid parit htec rabies, quid sacer iste furor ? 
 Ver mihi, quod dedit ingenium, cantabitur illo; 
 
 Profuerint isto reddita dona modo. 
 Jam Philomela tuos foliis adoperta novellis, 
 
 Instituis modulos, dum silet omne nemus: 
 Urbe ego, tu sylva, simul incipiamus utrique, 
 
 Et simul adventum veris uterque canat. 
 Veris, io ! rediere vices, celebremus bonores 
 
 Veris, et hoc subeat Musa perennis opus. 
 Jam sol^thiopas fugiens Tithoniaque arva, 
 
 f lectit ad Arctoas aurea lora plagas. 
 Est breve noctis iter, brevis est mora noctis opacae, 
 
 Horrida cum tenebris exulat ilia suis. 
 Jamque Lycaonius plaustrum coeleste Bootes 
 
 Non longa sequitur fessus ut ante via ; 
 Nunc etiam solitas circum Jovis atria toto 
 
 Excubias agitant sidera rara polo : 
 Nam dolus, et csedes, et vis cum nocte recessit, 
 
 Neve Giganteum Dii timuere scelus. 
 Forte aliquis scopuli recubans in vertice pastor, 
 
 Roscida cum primo sole rubescit humus, 
 
 * N 
 
 Hoec, ait, hac cert6 caruisti nocte puella, 
 
 Phcebe, tua, celeres qua» retineret equos. 
 Lacta suas repetit sylvas, pharetramque resuniit 
 
 Cynthia, Luciferas ut vidct alta rotas ; 
 Et tenues ponens radios gaudere videtur 
 
 Officium fieri tam breve fratris ope. 
 ' Desere,' Phogbus ait, ' thalamos Aurora seniles, 
 
 Quid juvat effotJto procubuisse tore ? 
 Te manet jEolides viridi venator in berba, 
 
 Surge, tuos ignes alius Hymettus habet.' 
 Flava verecundo dea crimen in ore fatetur, 
 
 Et matutinos ocius urget equos. 
 Exuit invisum Tellus rediviva senectam, 
 
 Et cupit amplexus, Phoebe, subire tuos; 
 Et cupit, et digna est, quid enim formosius ilia. 
 
 Pandit ut omniferos luxuriosa sinus, 
 Atque Arabum spirat messes, et ab ore venusto 
 
 Mitia cum Paphiis fundit amoma rosis ! 
 Ecce ! coronatur sacro frons ardua luco, 
 
 Cingit ut Idoeam pinea turris Opim ; 
 Et vario madidos intexit flore capillos, 
 
 Floribus et visa est posse placere suis. 
 Floribus effusos ut erat redimita capillos 
 
 Tenario placuit diva Sicana Deo. 
 Aspice, Phoebe, tibi faciles hortantur amores, 
 
 Mellitasque movent flamina verna preces. 
 Cinnamea Zephyrus leve plaudit odorif'er alu, 
 
 Blanditiasque tibi ferre videnter aves. 
 Nee sine dote tuos temcraria quoerit amores 
 
 Terra, nee optatos poscit egena toros ; 
 Alma salutiferum medicos tibi grameu in usus 
 
 Praebet, et hinc titulos adjuvat ipsa tuos. 
 Quod si te pretium, si te fulgentia tangunt 
 
 Munera, (muneribus saepe coemptus Amor.) 
 Ilia tibi ostentat quascunque sub tequore vasto, 
 
 Et super injectis montibus abdit opes. 
 Ah quoties cum tu clivoso fessus Olympo 
 
 In verspertinas preecipitaris aquas, 
 ' Cur te,' inquit, ' cursu languentem, Phoebe, diurno 
 
 Hesperiis recipit caerula Mater aquis.^ 
 Quid tibi cum Tethy? Qui,', ;um Tartesside lympha, 
 
 Dia quid imundo perluis ora salo .'* 
 Frigora, Phoebe, mea melius captabis in umbra. 
 
 Hue ades, ardentes imbue rore comas. 
 Mollior egelida veniet tibi somnus in herba, 
 
 Hue ades, et gremio lumina pone meo. 
 Quaque jaces circum mulcebit lene susunans 
 
 Aura, per humentes corpora fusa r()sas. 
 Nee me (crede mihi) terrent Semeleia fata, 
 
 Nee Phaetonteo fumidus axis equo ; 
 Cum tu, Phoebe, tuo sapientius uteris igni, 
 
 Hue ades, et gremio lumina pone meo.' 
 Sic Tellus lasciva suos suspirat amores; 
 
 Matris in e.vemplum caetera turba ruunt. 
 Nunc etenim toto currit vagus orbe Cupido, 
 
 Languentesque fovet solis ab igne faces. 
 Insonuere novis lethalia cornua nervis, 
 
 Triste micant ferro tela corusca novo. 
 Jamque vel invictam tentat superasse Dianam, 
 
 Quseque sedet sacro Vesta pudica foco. 
 Ipsa seuescentem reparat Venus annua formam. 
 
178 
 
 rOEMATA. 
 
 Atque iterum tepido creditur orta mari. 
 Marmoreas juvenes clamant Hymeiiajc per urbes, 
 
 Littus, io Hymen, et cava saxa sonant. 
 Cultior ille venit tunicaque decentior aptu, 
 
 Puniceum redolet vestis odora crocum. 
 EgT«?diturque frequens ad anioeni i^'audia veris 
 
 Virgineos auro cincta puella sinus : 
 Votum est cuique suum, votum est tamen omnibus 
 unum, 
 
 Ut sibi quern cupiat, det Cytherea virura. 
 Nunc quoque septcna modulatur anindinc pastor, 
 
 Et sua qua; jungat canuina Pbyllis habet. 
 Navita noctumo placat sua sidera cantu, 
 
 Dclpbinasque leves ad vada summa vocat. 
 Jupiter ipse alto cum conjuge ludit Olympo, 
 
 Convocat et famulos ad sua festa Deos. 
 Nunc etiam Satyri cum sera crepuscula surguut, 
 
 Pervolitant celeri florea rura cboro, 
 Sylranusque sua cyparissi fronde revinctus, 
 
 Semicaperque Deus, semideusque caper. 
 Queeque sub arboribus Dryades latuere vetustis, 
 
 Per juga, per solos expatiantur agros. 
 Per sata luxuriant fruticetaque Mcenalius Pan, 
 
 "Vix Cybele mater, vix sibi tuta Ceres; 
 Atque aliquam cupidus praedatur Oreada Faunus, 
 
 Consulit in trepidos dum sibi nyrapha pedes, 
 Jamque latet, latitansque cupit male tecta videri, 
 
 Et fugit, et fugiens pervelit ipsa capi. 
 Dii quoque non dubitant coelo prceponere sylvas, 
 
 Et sua quisque sibi numina lucus babet. 
 Et sua quisque diu sibi numina lucus habeto. 
 
 Nee Tos arborea dii precorite dorao. 
 Te referant miscris te, Jupiter, aurea terris 
 
 Seecia, quid ad nimbos aspera tela redis ? 
 Tu saltern lente rapidos age, PhcEbe,ju gales 
 
 Qua potes, et sensim tempora veris eant ; 
 Brumaque productas tarde ferat bispida noctes, 
 
 Ingruat et nostro serior umbra polo. 
 
 ELEGIA SEXTA. 
 
 Ad Carolum Deodatum ruri commorantem. 
 
 Qui cum Idibus Decemb. scripsisset, et sita carmina 
 excusari postulasset si solito minus essent bona, quod 
 inter lautitias quibus erat ab amicis acceptus, haud 
 satis felicem operant Musis dare se posse affirmabat, 
 hoc habuit responsum. 
 
 MrTTo tibi sanam non pleno venire salutcm, 
 
 Qua tu distento forte carere potes. 
 At tua quid nostram prolectat Musa camoenam. 
 
 Nee sinit optatas posse sequi tenebras ? 
 Carmine scire velis quam te redamemque colamque, 
 
 Crede mihi vix hoc carmine scire queas. 
 Nam neque noster amor modulis includitur arctis, 
 
 Nee venit ad claudos integer ipse pedes. 
 Quim bene solennes epulas, hilaremque Decembrim. 
 
 Festaque coelifugam quue coluere Dcum, 
 Deliciasque refers, bybemi guadia ruris, 
 
 Ilaustaque per lepidos Gallica musta focos! 
 
 Quid quereris refugam vino dapibusque poesin ? 
 
 Carmen aniat Baccbuui, carmina Bacchus amat. 
 Nee puduit PJKebum virides gestasse corymbos, 
 
 Atque hedcram lauro pripposuisse suse. 
 Sappius Aoniis calamavit cuUibus Euoc 
 
 Mysta Thyonco turba novena olioro. 
 Naso Corallteis mala carmina misit ab agris : 
 
 Non illic cpuhe, ^on sata vitis crat. 
 Quid nisi vina, roaj ./]ue raccmiferumque Lyeeum, 
 
 Cantavit brevibus Teia Musa modis? 
 Pindaricosque inflat numeros Teumesius Euan, 
 
 Et redolet sumptum pagina quteque merum ; 
 Dum gravis everso currus crepat axe supinus, 
 
 Et volat Eleo pulvere fuscus eques. 
 Quadrimoque madens Lyricen Romanus laccho 
 
 Dulce caiiit Glyceran, flavicomamque Chloen. 
 Jam quoque lauta tibi generoso mcnsa paratu 
 
 Mentis alit vires, ingeniumquc fovet. 
 Massica foecundam despumant pocula venam, 
 
 Fundis et ex ipso condita metra cado. 
 Addimus his artes, fusumquc per intima Phoebuni 
 
 Corda, favent uni Bacchus, Apollo, Ceres. 
 Scilicet haud mirum tam dulcia carmina per te 
 
 Numiue composite, tres perperisse Deos. 
 Nunc quoque Thressa tibi c;elato barbitos auro 
 
 Insonat arguta moUiter icta manu ; 
 Auditurque chelys suspensa tapetia circum, 
 
 Virgineos tremula quse regat arte pedes. 
 Ilia tuas saltern teneant spectacula Musas, 
 
 Et revocent, quantum carpula pellit iners. 
 Crede mihi dum psallit ebur, comitataque plectrum 
 
 Implet odoratos festa chorea tholos, 
 Percipies tacitum per pectora serpere Phoebum, 
 
 Quale repentinus permeat ossa calor, 
 Perque puellares oculos digitumque sonantem 
 
 Irruet in totos lapsa Thalia sinus. 
 Namque Elegia levis multorum ciira Deorum est, 
 
 Et vocat ad numeros quemlibet ilia suos ; 
 Liber adest elegis, Eratoque, Ceresque, Venusque, 
 
 Et cum purpurea matre tenellus Amor. 
 Talibus inde licent convivia larga poetis, 
 
 Ssepius et veteri commaduisse mero. 
 At qui bella refert, et adulto sub Jove coelum, 
 
 Heroasque pios, semideosque duces, 
 Et nunc sancta canit supcrum consulta deorum. 
 
 Nunc latrata fero regna profunda cane, 
 Ille quidem parce Samii pro more magistri 
 
 Vivat, et innocuos proebeat hcrba cibos ; 
 Stet prope fagineo pellucida lympha catillo, 
 
 Sobriaque c puro pocula fonte bibat. 
 Additur huic scelerisque vacans, et casta juventus, 
 
 Et rigidi mores, et sine labe manus. 
 Qualis veste nitens sacra, ct lustralibus undis 
 
 Surgis ad infensos augur iture Deos. 
 Hoc ritu vixisse ferunt post rapta sagacem 
 
 Lumina Tiresian, Ogygiumquc Linon, 
 Et lare devoto profugum Calchanta, sencmque 
 
 Orpheon, edomitis sola per antra feris ; 
 Sic dapis exiguus, sic rivi potor Homerus 
 
 Dulichium vexit per freta longa virum, 
 Et per monstrificam Persicie Phoebados aulam. 
 
POEMATA. 
 
 179 
 
 Et vada foemineis insidiosa sonis, 
 Perque tuas, rex ime, doraos, ubi sanguine nigro 
 
 Dicitur umbrarum detinuisse greges. 
 Diis etenim sacer est vates, divumque sacerdos, 
 
 Spirat et uccultum pectus, et ore Jovem. 
 At tu siquid ag-am scitabere (si modo saltern 
 
 Esse putas taiiti noscere siquid agam) 
 Paciferum caiiimus coelesti seniiu' regem, 
 
 Faustaque sacratis saecula pact; .ibris, 
 Vagitumque Dei, et stabulentem paupere tecto 
 
 Qui suprema suo cum patre regna colit, 
 Stelliparumque polum, moduiantesque cethere turmas, 
 
 Et subito elisos ad sua fana Deos. 
 Dona quidem dedimus Christi natalibus ilia, 
 
 Ilia sub aurorani lux mihi prima tulit. 
 Tc quoque pressa manent patriis meditata cicutis, 
 
 Tu mihi, cui recitem, judicis instar eris. 
 
 ELEGIA SEPTIMA. 
 
 (Anno^EtatislO.) 
 
 NoNDUM blanda tuas leges, Amathusia, norara, 
 
 Et Paphio vacuum pectus ab igne fuit. 
 Stepe cupidineas, puerilia tela, sagittas, 
 
 Atque tuum sprevi maxime nunien Amor. 
 Tu puer imbelles, dixi, transfige columbas, 
 
 Conveniunt tenero mollia bella duci. 
 Aut de passeribus tumidos age, parve, triumphos, 
 
 Hrec sunt militiac digna tropha^a tuap. 
 In g^enus bumanum quid inania dirigis arma? 
 
 Non valet in fortes ista pharetra viros. 
 Non tulit hoc Cjprius, (neque enim Deus ullus ad iras 
 
 Promptior) et duplici jam ferus igne calet. 
 Ver erat, et summte radians per culmina villse 
 
 Attulerat primam lux tibi, Maie, diem : 
 At mihi adhuc refugam qurerebant lumina noctem. 
 
 Nee matutinum sustinuere jubar. 
 Astat Amor lecto, pictis Amor impiger alis, 
 
 Prodidit astantem moto pharetra Deum ; 
 Prodidit et facies, et dulce minantis ocelli, 
 
 Et quicquid puero dignum et Amore fuit. 
 Talis in etemo juvenis Sigeius Olympo 
 
 Miscet amatori pocula plena Jovi; 
 Aut qui formosas pellexit ad oscula nymphas 
 
 Thiodamantaeus Naiade raptus Hylas. 
 Addideratque iras, sed et has decuisse putares, 
 
 Addideratque truces, nee sine felle, minas. 
 Et miser exemplo sapuisses tutiiis, inquit. 
 
 Nunc mea quid possit dextera testis eris. 
 Inter et expertos vires numerabere nostras, 
 
 Et faciam vero per tua damna fidera. 
 Ipse ego, si nescis, strato Pythone superbum 
 
 Edomui Phoebum, cessit et illi mihi ; 
 Et quoties meminit Peneidos, ipse fatetur 
 
 Certius et gravius tela nocere mea. 
 Me nequit adductum curvare peritiiis arcum, 
 
 Qui post terga solet vincere Parthus eques : 
 Cydoniusque mihi cedit venator, et ille 
 
 Inscius uxori qui necis author erat. 
 Est etiam nobis ingens quoqu*^ victus Orion, 
 N 2 
 
 Herculeceque manus, Herculeusque comes. 
 Jupiter ipse licet sua fulmina torqueat in me, 
 
 Hserebunt lateri spicula nostra Jovis. 
 CiEtera quse dubitas melius mea tela docebunt.'* 
 
 Et tua non leviter corda patenda mihi. 
 Nee te, stulte, tuae poterunt defendere Musae 
 
 Nee tibi Phoeboeus porriget anguis opem. 
 Dixit, et aurato quatiens mucrone sagittam, 
 
 Evolat in tepidos Cypridos ille sinus. 
 At mihi risuro tonuit ferus ore minaci, 
 
 Et mihi de puero non metus ullus erat. 
 Et modo qua nostri spatiantur in urbe Quirites, 
 
 Et modo villaruni proxima rura placent. 
 Turba frequens, facieqne simillima turba dearum 
 
 Splendida per medias itque reditque vias. 
 Auctaque luce dies gemino fulgore coruscat, 
 
 Fallor ? an et radios hinc quoque Phoebus habet ? 
 Haec ego non fugi spectacula grata severus. 
 
 Impetus et quo me fert juvenilis, agor. 
 Lumina luminihus male providus obvia misi, 
 
 Neve oculos potuit coiitinuisse meos. 
 Unam forte aliis supereminuisse notabam, 
 
 Principium nostri lux erat ilia mali. 
 Sic Venus optaret mortalibus ipsa videri, 
 
 Sic regina Deum conspicienda fuit. 
 Hanc memor objecit nobis mains ille Cupido, 
 
 Solus et hos nobis texuit ante dolos. 
 Nee procul ipse vafer latuit, multoeque sagittip, 
 
 Et facis a tergo grande pependit onus. 
 Nee mora, nunc ciliis ha?sit, nunc virginis ori, 
 
 Insilit hinc labiis, insidet inde genis: 
 Et quascunque agilis partes jaculator oberrat, 
 
 Hei mihi, mille locis pectus inerme ferit. 
 Protinus insoliti subierunt corda furores, 
 
 Uror amans intus flammaque totus eram. 
 Interea misero quas jam mihi sola placebat, 
 
 Ablata est oculis non reditura meis. 
 Ast ego progredior tacite querebundus, et excors, 
 
 Et dubius volui saepe referre pedem. 
 Findor, et hsec remanent : sequitur pars altera votum, 
 
 Raptaque tam subito gaudia flere juvat. 
 Sic dolet amissum proles Junonia coelum, 
 
 Inter Lemniacos praecipitata focos. 
 Talis et abreptum solem respexit, ad Orcum 
 
 Vectus ab attonitis Amphiaraus equis. 
 Quid faciam infelix, et luctu victus .'' amores 
 
 Nee licet inceptos ponere, neve sequi. 
 O utinam spectare semel mihi detur amatos 
 
 Vultus, et coram tristia verba loqui ; 
 Forsitan et duro non est adamante creata. 
 
 Forte nee ad nostras surdpat ilia preces. 
 Crede mihi, nullus sic infeliciter arsit, 
 
 Ponar in exemplo primus et unus ego. 
 Parce precor, teneri cum sis Deus ales amoris, 
 
 Pugnent officio nee tua facta tuo. 
 Jam tuus certe est mihi formidabilis arcus 
 
 Nate dea, jaculis nee minus igne potens; 
 Et tua fumabunt nostris altaria donis. 
 
 Solus et in superis tu mihi summis eris. 
 Deme meos tandem, verum nee deme, furores, 
 
 Nescio cur, miser estsuaviter omnis amans: 
 
180 
 
 POEMATA. 
 
 Tu niodo da facilis, posthaec inea siqua futura est, 
 Cuspis amaturos figat ut una duos. 
 
 Hjec ego, mente olim laeva, studioque supino, 
 
 NequitisD posui vana trophaea metr. 
 Scilicet abreptum sic me malus impulit error, 
 
 Indocilisque aetas prava magfistra fuit, 
 
 Donee Socraticos umbrosa Acadcmia rivos 
 Prtebuit, adiuissum dcdocuitque jiifrum. 
 
 Protinus extinctis ex illo tempore flammis, 
 Cincta rigent multo pectora nostra pelu. 
 
 Unde suis frig-us metuit pucr ipse sagittis, 
 Et Diomedeam vim timet ipsa Venus. 
 
 EPIGRAMMATUM LIBER. 
 
 IN PRODITIONEM BOMBARDICAM. 
 
 Cum simul in regem nuper satrapasque Britannos 
 
 Ausus es infandum, perfide Fauxe, nefas, 
 Fallor.'' an et mitis voluisti ex parte videri, 
 
 £t pensare mala cum pietate scelus ? 
 Scilicit hos alti missurus ad atria coeli, 
 
 Sulphureo curru flammivolisque rotis. 
 Qualiter ille feris caput inviolabile Farcis, 
 
 Liquit lordanios turbine raptus agros. 
 
 IN EANDEM. 
 
 SicciNE tentasti coelo donasse lacobum 
 
 Quee septemgemino Bellua monte lates .'* 
 Ni meliora tuum poterit dare munera numen, 
 
 Farce, precor, donis insidiosa tuis. 
 Ille quidam sine te consortia serus adi?it 
 
 Astra, nee inferni pulveris usus ope. 
 Sic potius foedus in coelum pelle cucullos, 
 
 Et quot babet brutos Roma profana Deos, 
 Namque bac aut alia nisi quemque adjuveris arte, 
 
 Crede mibi, coeli vix bene scandet iter. 
 
 IN EANDEM. 
 
 PuRGATOREM animse derisit lacobus ignem, 
 
 Et sine quo superiim non adeunda domus. 
 Frenduitboc trina monstrum Latiale corona, 
 
 Movitet borrificum comua denaminax. 
 ' Et necinsultas' ait * temnes mea sacra, Britanne, 
 
 Supplicium spreta religione dabis. 
 Et si stelligeras unquam penetraveris arces, 
 
 Non nisi per flammas triste patebit iter.' 
 O quam funesto cecinisli proxima vero, 
 
 Verbaque ponderibus vix caritura suis! 
 Nam prope Tartareo sublime rotatus ab igni 
 
 Ibat ad aetbereas, umbra perosta, plagas. 
 
 IN EANDEM. 
 
 QuEM modo Roma suis devoverat impia diris, 
 EtStyge damnarat Tsenarioque sinu, 
 
 Hunc, vice mutata, jam tollere gestit ad astra, 
 Et cupit ad superos evehere usque Deos. 
 
 IN INVENTOREM BOMBARD^]. 
 
 Iapetionidem laudavit caeca vetustas, 
 Qui tulit Betheream soUs ab axe facem ; 
 
 At mibi major erit, qui lurida creditur arma, 
 Et trifidum fulmen surripuisse Jovi. 
 
 AD LEONORAM ROM^ CANENTEM. 
 
 Angelus unicuique suus (sic credite gentes) 
 
 Obtigit aethereis ales ab ordinibus. 
 Quid mirum ? Leonora, tibi si gloria major .^ 
 
 Nam tua prsesentem vox sonat ipsa Deura. 
 Aut Deus, aut vacui certe mens tertia coeli 
 
 Per tua secreto guttura serpit agens ; 
 Serpit agens, facilisque docet mortalia corda 
 
 Sensim immortali assuesccre posse sono. 
 Quod si cuncta quidem Deus est, per cunctaqne fusus, 
 
 In te una loquitur, csetera mutus habet. 
 
 AD EANDEM. 
 
 Altera Torquatum ccpit Leonora poetam, 
 
 Cujus ab insano cessit amore furens. 
 Ab miser ille tuo quanto felicius sevo 
 
 Ferditus, et propter te, Leonora, foret ! 
 Et te Pieria sensisset voce canentem 
 
 Aurea matcrnae fila movere lyrae : 
 Quamvis Dirceeo torsisset luminaPentheo 
 
 Scevior. auttotus desipuisset iners. 
 
POEMATA. 
 
 181 
 
 Tu tamen errantes caeca vertigine sensus 
 Voce eadem poteras composuisse tua ; 
 
 Et poteras, tFgro spirans sub corde, quietem 
 Flexanimo cantu restituisse sibi. 
 
 AD EANDEM. 
 
 Credula quid liquidam Sirena NeapoH jactas, 
 
 Claraque Parthenopcs fana Acheloiados, 
 Littoreamque tua defunctam Naiada ripa 
 
 Corpora Chalcidico sacra dedisse rogo ? 
 Bla quidem vivitque, et amoeua Tibridis unda 
 
 Mutavit rauci niurmura Pausilipi. 
 Illic Romulidum studiis ornata secundis, 
 
 Atque homines cantu detinet atque Deos. 
 
 APOLOGUS DE RUSTICO ET HERO. 
 
 RusTicus ex malo sapidissima poma quotannis 
 Lcg'it, et urbano lecta dedit Domino ; 
 
 Hinc incredibili fructus dulcedine captus 
 Malum ipsam in proprias transtulit areolas. 
 
 Hactenus ilia ferax, sed long'o debilis aevo, 
 
 Mota solo assueto, protenus aret iners. 
 Quod tandem ut patuit Domino, spe lusus inaui, 
 
 Darauavit celeres in sua damna manus ; 
 Atque ait, heu quanto satius fuit ilia Coloni 
 
 (Parvi licet) grato dona tulisse animo ! 
 Possem ego avaritiam fraenare, gulamque voracem ; 
 
 Nunc periere mibi et foetus et ipse parens. 
 
 AD CHRISTINAM SUECORUM REGINAM, 
 NOMINE CROMWELLI. 
 
 Bellipoikns Virgo, septem Regina Trionum, 
 
 Christina, Arctoi lucida Stella poli ! 
 Cernis, quas merui dura sub casside rugas, 
 
 Utque senex armis impiger ora tero ; 
 Invia fatorum dum per vestigia nitor, 
 
 Exequor et populi fortia jussa manu. 
 Ast tibi submittit frontem reverentior umbra; 
 
 Nee sunt hi vultus Regibus usque truces. 
 
 SYLVARUM LIBER. 
 
 IN OBITUM PROCANCELLARII, MEDICI. 
 
 (Anno JEi&tis 17.) 
 
 Parere fati discite legibus, 
 Manusque Parcse jatn date supplices, 
 Qui pendulum telluris orbem 
 lapete collitis nepotes. 
 Vos si relicto mors vaga Tsenaro 
 Semel vocarit flebilis, heu morae 
 Tentantur incassum, dolique ; 
 
 Per tenebras Stjgis ire certum est. 
 Si destinatam pellere dextera 
 Mortem valeret, non ferus Hercules, 
 Nessi venenatus cruore, 
 iEmathia jacuisset Oeta. 
 Nee fraude turpi Pallidis invidae 
 Vidisset occisum Ilion Hectora, aut 
 Quem larva Pelidis pererait 
 Ense Locro, Jove lacrymante. 
 Sic triste fatum verba Hecateia 
 Fugare possint, Telegoni parens 
 Vixisset infamis, potentique 
 yEgiali soror usa virga. 
 Numenque trinum fallere si queant 
 Artes medentiim, ignotaque gramina, 
 
 Non gnarus herbarum Machaon 
 Eurypyli cecidisset basta. 
 Laesisset et nee te Philyreie, 
 Sagitta Echidnse perlita sanguine, 
 Nee tela te fulraenque avitum 
 Csese puer genitricis alvo. 
 Tuque O alumno major Apolline, 
 Gentis togatae cui regimen datum, 
 Frondosa quem nunc Cirrha luget, 
 Et mediis Helicon in undis, , 
 Jam prsefuisses Palladio gregi 
 Laetus, superstes, nee sine gloria : 
 Nee puppe lustrasses Charontis 
 Horribiles barathri reeessus. 
 At fila rupit Persephone tua 
 Irata, cum te viderit, artibus 
 Succoque poUenti, tot atris 
 Faucibus eripuisse mortis. 
 Colende Praeses, membra precor tua 
 Molli quiescant cespite, et ex tuo 
 Crescant rosae, calthseque busto, 
 Purpureoque hyacinth us ore. 
 Sit mite de te Judicium iEaci, 
 Subrideatque ^tnaea Proserpina, 
 Interque felices perennis 
 Elysio spatiere campo. 
 
183 
 
 POEMATA. 
 
 IN QUINTUM NOVEMBRIS. 
 
 (Anno JEtatis 17.) 
 
 Jam pius extrema veniens lacobtis ab arcto, 
 Teucrig'enas populos, lateque patetitia regiia 
 Albionum tenuit, jamque inviolabile fcedus 
 Sceptra Caledouiis conjunxerat Atiglica Scotis: 
 Pacificusque novo felix divesque, sedebat 
 Id solio, occultique doli securus et bostis : 
 Cum ferns ignifluo reynans Acheronte tyraonus, 
 Eumenidum pater, «thereo vagus exul Olympo, 
 Forte per inimensum terrarura erraverat orbem, 
 Dinumerans sceleris socios, vernasque fideles, 
 Participes regni post funera moesta futures ; 
 Hie tempestates medio ciet acre diras, 
 lilac unanimes odium struit inter araicos, 
 Armat et invictas in mutua viscera gentes; 
 Regnaque olivifera vertit florentia pace, 
 Et quoscunque videt purae virtutis amantes, 
 Hos cupit adjicere imperio, fraudumque magister 
 Teutat inaccessum sceleri corrumpere pectus ; 
 Insidiasque locat tacitas, cassesque latentes 
 Tendit, ut incautos rapiat, seu Caspia Tigris 
 Insequitur trepidam deserta per avia praedam 
 Nocte sub illuni, et somno nictantibus astris. 
 Talibus infestat populos Sumnianus et urbes 
 Cinctus caerulese funianti turbine flammse. 
 Jamque (luentisonis albentia rupibus arva 
 Apparent, et terra Deo dilecta marine, 
 Cui nomen dederat quondam Neptunia proles, 
 Ampbitrjouiaden qui non dubitavit atrocem, 
 ^quore tranato, furiali poscere bello. 
 Ante expugnatae crudelia soecula Trojae. 
 
 At simul banc opibusque et festa. pace beatam 
 Aspicit, et pingues donis Cerealibus agros, 
 Quodque magis doluit, venerantem numinaveri 
 Sancta Dei populum, tandem suspiria rupit 
 Tartareos ignes et luridum olentia sulpbur ; 
 Qualia Trinacria truxa ab Jove clausus in ^tna 
 Efflat tabifico moustrosus ab ore Tipboeus. 
 Ignescunt oculi, stridetque adamantinus ordo 
 Dentis, ut armorum fragor, ictaque cuspide cuspis 
 Atque pererrato solum hoc lacrymabile mundo 
 Inveni, dixit, gens haec mibi sola rebellis, 
 Contemtrixque jugi, nostraque potentior arte. 
 Ilia tamen, mea si quicquam tcntamina possniit, 
 Non fen-t boc impune diu, non ibit inulta. 
 Hactenus ; et piceis liquido natat aere penni.s ; 
 Qua volat, adversi preecursant agmine venti, 
 Densantur nubes, et crebra tonitrua fulgent. 
 
 Jamque pruinosas velox superaverat Alpcs, 
 Et tenet Ausonite fines : a parte sinistra 
 Nimbifer Apenninus erat, ])riscique Sabini, 
 Dextra veneHciis infamis Hetruria, nee non 
 Te furtiva, Tibris, Tbetidi videt oscula dantcm ; 
 Hinc Mavortigensp consistit in arce Quirini. 
 Jteddiderant dubiam jam sera crepuscula lucem, 
 Cum circumgreditur totam Tricoronifer urbem, 
 Panificosque Deos portat, scapulisque virorum 
 
 Evcbitur, praeeunt submisso poplite reges, 
 Et meudicantum series longissima fratrum ; 
 Cereaque in manibus gestant funalia caeci, 
 Cimmeriis nati in tenebris, vitamquc trabentes. 
 Templa dein multis subeunt lucentia ttedis 
 fV^esper erat sacer iste Petro) fremitusque canentum 
 Saepe tholos implet vacuos, et inane locorum. 
 Qualiter exululat Bromius, Broniiique caterva, 
 Orgia cantantes in Ecbionio Aracyntbo, 
 Dum tremit attonitus vitreis Asopus in undis, 
 Et procul ipse cava respoiisat rupe Cillia;ron. 
 
 His igitur tandem solenni more peractis, 
 Nox senis amplexus Erebi taciturna rejiquit, 
 Praecipitesque impellit equos stiniulante flagello, 
 Captuni ocuIisTyphlonta, Melanchsetemque ferocem, 
 Atque Achcrontffio prognatam patre Siopen 
 Torpidam, et hirsutis borrentem Phrica capillis. 
 Interea regum domitor, Pblegetontius boeres 
 Ingreditur tbalamos (neque enim secretus adulter 
 Producit steriles molli sine pellice noctes) 
 At vix composites somnus claudebat ocelles, 
 Cum niger umbrarum dominus, rectorque silentum, 
 Propdatorque bominum falsa sub imagine tectus 
 Astitit; assumptis micuerunt tempora canis, 
 Barba sinus promissa tegit, cineracea longo 
 Syrmate verrit bumum vestis, peiidetque cucullus 
 Vertice de rase, et ne quicquam desit ad artes, 
 Cannabeo lumbos constrixit fune salaces. 
 Tarda fenestratis figens vestigia calceis. 
 Talis, uti fama est, vasta Franciscus eremo 
 Tetra vagabatur solus per lustra ferarum, 
 Sjlvestrique tulit genti pia verba salutis 
 Impius, atque lupos doniuit, Libycosque leones. 
 
 Subdolus at tali Serpens velatus amictu 
 Solvit in has fallax era execratia voces ; 
 Dermis nate ? Etiamne tuos sopor opprimit artus ? 
 Inimemer, O fidei, pecorumque oblite tuorum ! 
 Dum cathedram, venerande, tuam, diademaque triplex 
 Ridet Hyperboree gens barbara nata sub axe, 
 Dumque pharetrati spcmunt tua jura Britanni : 
 Surge, age, surge piger, Latiu's quern Caesar adorat, 
 Cui reserata patet convexi janua coeli, 
 Turgentes animos, et fastus frange procaces, 
 Sacrilegique sciant, tua quid maledictio possit. 
 Et quid Apostolicae possit custodia clavis ; 
 Et memer Hesperiae disjectam ulciscere classem, 
 Mersaque Iberorum late vexilla profunde, 
 Sanctorumque cruci tot corpora fixa probosae, 
 Thermodoontea nuper regnante puella. 
 At tu si tenere mavis torpescerc lecte, 
 Crescentesque negas hosti contundere vires; 
 Tyrrhenum implebit numeroso milite pontum, 
 Signaque Avontino ponet fulgentia colic: 
 Reliquias veterura franget, flammisqne cremabit, 
 Sacraque calcabit pedibus tua colla profanis, 
 Cujus gaudebant soleis dare basia reges. 
 Nee tamen hunc bellis et aperte Marte lacesses, 
 Irritus ille labor; tu callidus utere fraude : 
 Quaelibet haireticis dispenere retia fas est ; 
 Jamque ad consilium extremis rex magiuis ab oris 
 Patricios vocat, ct proccrum dc stirpe creates, 
 
POEMATA. 
 
 183 
 
 Grandoevosque patres trabei, cauisque verendos; 
 Hos tu membratim poteris consperg^ere in auras, 
 Atque dare in cineres, nitrati pnlveris ig^ne 
 ^dibus injecto, qua convenere, sub imis. 
 Protinus ipse igitur quoscunque habet Anglia fidos 
 Propositi, factique, mone : quisquamne tuorurn 
 Audebit summi non jussa facessere Papoe ? 
 Perculsosque metu subito, casuque stupentes 
 Invadat vel Gallus atrox, vel ssevus Iberus. 
 Ssecula sic illic tandem Mariana redibunt, 
 Tuque in belligeros iterum dominaberis Anglos. 
 Et nequid timeas, divos divasque secundas 
 Accipe, quotque tuis celebrantur numina fastis. 
 Dixit, et adscitos ponens malcfidus amictus 
 Fugit ad infandani, regnum illaetabile, Letbeu. 
 
 Jam rosea Eoas pandens Tithonia portas 
 Vesti inauratas redeunti lumine teiras; 
 Moestaque adhuc nigri deplorans fuiiera nati 
 Irrigat ambrosiis montana cacumina guttis : 
 Cum somnos pepulit stellatte janitor aulte, 
 Nocturnos visus, et somnia grata revolvens. 
 
 Est locus eeterna septus caligine uoctis, 
 Vasta ruinosi quondam fundamina tecti, 
 Nunc torvi spelunca Pboni, Prodotaeque bilinguis, 
 Effera quos uno peperit Discordia partu. 
 Hie inter csementa jacet prteruptaque saxa, 
 Ossa inbumata viruni, et trajecta cadavera ferro; 
 Hie dolus intortis semper sedet ater ocellis, 
 Jurgiaque, et stimulis armata Calumuia fauces, 
 Et J'uror, atque vite moriendi mille videntur, 
 Et Timor, exsanguisque locum circumvolat Horror; 
 Perpetuoque leves per muta silentia Manes 
 Exululant, tellus et sanguine conscia stagnat. 
 Ipsi etiam pavidi latitant penetralibus autri 
 Et Phonos, et Prodotes, nulloque sequente per antrum. 
 Antrum borrens, scopulosum, atrum feralibus umbris, 
 Diffugiunt sontes, et retro lumina vortunt ; 
 Hos pugiles Romae per siecula longa fideles 
 Evocat antistes Babylonius, atque ita fatur. 
 
 Finibus occiduis circumfusum incolit aequor 
 Gens exosa raihi ; prudens natura negavit 
 Indignam penitus nostro conjungere mundo: 
 Illuc, sic jubeo, celeri contendite gressu, 
 Tartareoque leves difflentur pulvere in auras 
 Et rex et pariter satrapse, scclerata propago : 
 Et quotquot fidei caluere cupidine verae, 
 Consilii socios adhibete, opcrisque ministros. 
 Finierat, rigidi cupide parnere gcmelli. 
 
 Interea longo flectens curvamine cflelos 
 Despicit setberea dominus qui fulgurat arce, 
 Vanaque perversae ridet conamina turbse, 
 Atque sui causam populi volet ipse tueri. 
 
 Esse ferunt spatium, qua distat ab Aside terra 
 Fertilis Europe, et spectat Mareotidas undas ; 
 Hie turris posita est Titanidos ardua Fama; 
 iErea, lata, sonans, rutilis vicinior astris 
 Quam superimpositum vel Atbos vel Pelion Ossae. 
 Mille fores aditusque patent, totidemque fenestrse, 
 Amplaque per tenues translucent atria muros: 
 Excitat hie varios plebs agglomerata susurros ; 
 Qualitcr instrepitant circum mulctralia bonibis 
 
 Agmina muscarum, aut texto per ovilia junco, 
 Dum canis aestivum coeli petit ardua culmen. 
 Ipsa quidem surama sedet ultrix matris in arce, 
 Auribus innumeriscinctum caput eminet olli, 
 Queis sonitum exiguum trabit, atque levissima capiat 
 Murmura, ab extremis patuli confinibus orbis. 
 Nee tot, Aristoride servator inique juvencae 
 Isidos, immiti volvebas lumina vultu, 
 Lumina non unquam tacito nuntantia somno, 
 Lumina subjectas late spectantia terras. 
 Istis ilia soletloca luce carentia saepe 
 Perlustrare, etiam radianti impervia soli: 
 Millenisque loquax auditaque visaque linguis 
 Cuilibet effundit temeraria; veraque mendax 
 Nunc minuit, modo confictis sermonibus auget. 
 
 Sed tamen a nostro meruisti carmine laudes 
 Fama, bonum quo non aliud veracius ullum. 
 Nobis digna cani, nee te memorasse pigebit 
 Carmine tam longo ; servati scilicet Angli 
 Officiis, vaga diva, tuis, tibi reddimus spqua. 
 Te Deus, aeternos motu qui temperat ignes, 
 Fulmine prtemisso alloquitur, terraque tremente : 
 Fama siles ? an te latet impia Papistarum 
 Conjurata cohors in nieque meosque Britannos, 
 Et nova sceptigero caedes meditata liicobo ? 
 Nee plura, illastatim sensit mandata Tonantis, 
 Et satis ante fugax stridentisinduit alas, 
 Induit et variis exilia corpora pluinis ; 
 Dextra tubam gestat Temesaeo ex aere sonoram. 
 Nee mora, jam pennis cedentes remigat auras, 
 Atque parum est cursu celeres praevcrtere nubes. 
 Jam ventos, jam solis equos post terga reliquit : 
 Et primo Angliacas, solito de more, per urbes 
 Ambigiias voces, incertaque murmura spargit, 
 Mox arguta dolos, et detestabile vulgat 
 Proditionis opus, nee non facta horrida dictn, 
 Authoresque addit sceleris, nee garrula caecis 
 Lisidiis loca structa silet ? stupuere relatis, 
 Et pariter juvenes, pariter tremuere puelhu, 
 f^ffoetique senes pariter, tantaeque ruinte 
 Sensus ad aetatem subito penetraverit omiiem. 
 
 Attamen interea populi miserescit ab alto 
 jEtbereus pater, et crudelibus obstitit ausis 
 Papicolum ; capit poenas raptantur ad acres; 
 At pia tbura Deo, et grati solvuntur lionores; 
 Compita beta focis genialibus omnia fumant; 
 Turba choros juvenilis agit: Quintoque Novembris 
 Nulla Dies toto occurrit celebratior anno. 
 
 IN OBITUxM PRiESULIS ELIENSIS. 
 
 (Anno ^tatis 17.) 
 
 Adhuc madentes rore squalebant genas, 
 
 Et sicca nondum lumina 
 Adhuc liquentis imbre turgebant salis, 
 
 Quern nuper efFudi pius, 
 Dum moesta charo justa persolvi rogo 
 
 Wintoniensis Praesulis. 
 Cum centilinguis Fama (proh ! semper mali 
 
 Cladisque vera nuntia) 
 
184 
 
 POEMATA. 
 
 Sparjfit per urbes divitis BritaiiiiiH?, 
 
 Pupiilosque Neptuno satos, 
 Cessisse niorti, et ferreissororibiis 
 
 Te generis huniani decus. 
 Qui rex sacrorum ilia, ftiisti in insula 
 
 Quae nomen Anguillae tenet. 
 Tunc inquietum pectus ira prutinus 
 
 Ebulliebat fervida, 
 Tumulis potentem swpc devorens dcani ; 
 
 Nee vota Naso in Ibida 
 Conccpit alto diriora pectore ; 
 
 Graiusque Tatcs parcius 
 Turpem I^ycanibis execratus est dolum, 
 
 Sponsamque Neobolen suam. 
 Atecce diras ipse dum fundo graves, 
 
 Et imprecor neci necem, 
 Audisse talcs videor attonitus sunos 
 
 Leni, sub aura, tlamine : 
 CsBcos furores pone, pone vitream 
 
 Bilenique, et initas minas, 
 Quid teniere violas non nocenda numina, 
 
 Subitoque ad iras percitaP 
 Non est, ut arbitraris elusus miser, 
 
 Mors atra Noctis filia, 
 Erebove patre creta, sive Erinnye, 
 
 Vastove nata sub Chao : 
 Ast ilia coelo missa stellato, Dei 
 
 Messes ubique colligit ; 
 Aniniasque mole camea reconditas 
 
 In lucem et auras evocat ; 
 Ut cum Aig'aces excitant Horae diem 
 
 Themidos Jovisque filite; 
 Et sempiterni ducit ad vultus patris : 
 
 At justa raptat impios 
 Sub repfna furvi luctuosa Tartari, 
 
 Sedesque subterraneas, 
 Hanc ut vocantem loetus audivi, cito 
 
 Foedum reliqui carcerem, 
 Volatilesque faustus inter railites 
 
 Ad astra sublimis feror : 
 Vates ut olim raptus ad coelum senex 
 
 Auriga currus ignei. 
 Non me Bootis terruere lucidi 
 
 Sarraca tarda frigore, aut 
 Formidolosi Scorpionis brachia, 
 
 Non ensis Orion tnus. 
 Prajtervolavi fulgidi solis globum, 
 
 Longeque sub pedibus dcani 
 Vidi triforniem, dum coercebat suos 
 
 Freenis dracones aureis. 
 Erraticorum, syderum per ordincs, 
 
 Per lacteas vebor plagas, 
 Velocitatem soepe miratus novam ; 
 
 Donee nitentes ad fores 
 Ventum est Olympi, et regiam crystallinam, ct 
 
 Stratum smaragdis atrium. 
 Scd hie tacebo, nam quis effari queat 
 
 Oriundus bumano patre, 
 Aninenitatcs illius loci ? mihi 
 
 Sat est in cternum frui. 
 
 NATURAM NON PATI SENIUM. 
 
 Hf.u quam perpetuis erroribus acta fatiscit 
 
 Avia mens bontinum, tenebrisque immersa profundis 
 
 (Edipodioniam volvit sub pectore noctem ! 
 
 Qufe vesana suis metiri facta deorum 
 
 Audet, et incisas leges adamante perenni 
 
 Assimilare suis, nulloque solubilc sacclo 
 
 Consilium fati perituris alligat horis. 
 
 Ergone marcescet sulcantibus obsita rugis 
 Naturae facies, ct rerum publica mater 
 Omniparum contracta uterum sterilescet ab aevo? 
 Et se fassa senem male ertis passibus ibit 
 Sidereum tremcbunda caput? num tetra vetustas 
 Annorumquc aeterna fames, sqiiallurque situsque 
 Sidera vexabunt? an et insatiabile Tempus 
 Esuriet Coelnm, rapietque in viscera patrem ? 
 Heu, potuitne suas imprudcns Jupiter arces 
 Hoc contra munisse nefas, et Temporis isto 
 Exemisse malo, gyrosque dedisse perennes .'* 
 Ergoerit ut quandoquesono dilapsa tremendo 
 Convexi tabulataruant, atque obvius ictu 
 Stridat uterque polus, superaque ut Oljuipins aula 
 Decidat, borribilisque relecta, Gorgone Pallas; 
 Qualis in jEgeani proles JunoniaLemnon 
 Deturbata sacro cecidit de limine cosli ? 
 Tu quoque Phoebe, tui casus imitabere nati 
 Prcecipiti curru, subitaque ferere ruina 
 Pronus, et extincta fumabit lampade Nereus, 
 Et dabit attonito feralia sibila ponto. 
 Tunc eliam aerei divulsis sedibus Hanii 
 Dissultabit apex, imoque allisa barathro 
 Terrebunt Stygium dejecta Ceraunia Ditem, 
 In superos quibus usus erat, fraternaque bella. 
 
 At Pater oranipotens, fundatis fortius astris, 
 Consuluit rerum summae, certoque peregit 
 Pondere fatorum lances, atque ordine summo 
 Singula perpetuum jussit scrvare tenorem. 
 Volvitur hinc lapsu mundi rota prima diurnu; 
 Raptat et ambitos socia vertigiue ccelos. 
 Tardior hand solito Saturnus, ct acer ut olim 
 Fulraineum rutilat cristata casside Mavors. 
 Floridus aeternum Phoebus juvenile coruscat, 
 Nee fovet effoetas loca per declivia terras 
 Devexo temone Deus; sed semper arnica 
 Luce potens, eadcm currit per signa rotarum. 
 Surgit odoratis pariter formosis ab Indis, 
 yEthereum pecus albenti qui cogit Olynipo 
 Mane vocans, et serus agens in pascua crpli ; 
 Temporis et gemino dispertit rcgna colore. 
 Fulget, obitque vices alterno Delia cornu, 
 Cseruleumque ignem paribus complectitur ulnis. 
 Nee variant elementa fidem, solitoque fragore 
 Lurida perculsas jaculantur fulmina rupes. 
 Nee per inane furit leviori murniure Corns, 
 Stringit ct armiforos a'quali horrore Gclonos 
 Trux Aquilo, spiratque hyeniem, ninibosque Tolutat 
 Utque solet, Siculi diverberat ima Pelori 
 Rex maris, et rauca circumstrcpit aequora concha 
 Occani Tubicen, ncc vasta mole minorcm 
 
POEMATA. 
 
 185 
 
 JEgeona. ferunt dorso Balearica cele. 
 Sed neqiie, Terra, tibi saecli vi^for ille vetusti 
 Priscus abest, servatque suum Narcissus odorem, 
 Etpuer ille suum tenet, et puer ille, decoreni, 
 Phcfibe tuusque et Cypri tuus, nee ditioroliiu 
 Terra datum sceleri celavit moiitibus aurum 
 Conscia, vel sub aquis cfemmas. Sic denique in a;vum 
 Ibit cunctarum series justissima rerum ; 
 Donee flamma orbem populabitur ultima, lat^ 
 Circumplexa polos, et vasti culmina creli ; 
 Ing'entique rogo flagrabit machina muudi. 
 
 DE IDEA PLATONICA QUEMADMODUM 
 ARISTOTELES INTELLEXIT. 
 
 DiciTE, sacrorum prsesides nemorura deae 
 Tuque O noveni perbeata numinis 
 Memoria mater, quieque in immense procul 
 Antro recumbis otiosa jEternitas, 
 Monumenta servans, et ratas leges Jovis, 
 Coeliquc fastos atque epbemeridas Deum, 
 Quis ille primus cujus ex imagine 
 Natura solers finxit bumanum genus, 
 ^ternus, incorruptus, tcquaevus polo, 
 Unusque et universus, exemplar Dei ? 
 Haud ille Palladis gemellus innubse 
 Interna proles insidet menti Jovis; 
 Sed quamlibet natura sit communior, 
 Tamen seorsus extat ad morem unius, 
 Et, raira, certo stringitur spatio loci ; , 
 Seu sempiturnus ille siderum comes 
 CobH pererrat ordines decemplicis, 
 Citimumve terris incolit Lunse globura : 
 Sive inter aninias corpus adituras sedens, 
 Obliviosas torpet ad Letbes aquas: 
 Sive in reniota forte terrarum plaga 
 Incedit ingens bominis arcbetypus gigas, 
 Et diis tremendus erigit celsum caput, 
 Atlante major portitore syderum. 
 Non, cui profundum caecitas lumen dedit, 
 Dirco?us augur vidit bunc alto sinu; 
 Non bunc silenti nocte Pleiones nepos 
 Vatum sagaci pnrpes ostendit cboro; 
 Non bunc sacerdos novit Assyrius, licet 
 Longos vetusti conimemoret atavos Nini, 
 Priscumque Belon, inclytunique Osiridem. 
 Non ille trino gloriosus nomine 
 Ter magnus Hermes (ut sit arcani sciens) 
 Talem reliquit Isidis cultoribus. 
 At tu perenne ruris Academi decus 
 (Hsec monstra si tu primus induxli scbolis) 
 Jam jam, poetas urbis exules tuae 
 Revocabis, ipse Tabulator maximus; 
 Aut institutor ipse migrabis foras. 
 
 AD PATREM. 
 
 Nunc mea Pierios cupiam per pectora sontes 
 Irriguas torquere vias, totumque per ora 
 Volvere laxatuni gemino de vertice rivum ; 
 
 Ut tenues oblita sonos audacibus alis 
 Surgat in officium venerandi Musa parentis. 
 Hoc utcunque tibi gratum, pater optime, carmen 
 Exiguum meditatur opus : nee novimus ipsi 
 Aptiiis a nobis qute possint munera donis 
 Respondere tuis, quamvis nee maxima possint 
 Respondere tuis, nedum utpar gratia donis 
 Esse queat, vaeuis qure redditur arida verbis. 
 Sed tamen hiec nostros ostendit pagina census, 
 Et quod liabemus opum cliarta numeravimus ista, 
 Quae mihi suntnullae, nisi quas dedit aurea Clio, 
 Quas mibi senioto somni perperere sub antro, 
 Et nemorislaureta sacri Parnassides umbra*. 
 
 Nee tu vatis opus divinum despice carmen. 
 Quo nibil setbereos ortus, et semina coeli, 
 Nil niagis bumanam commendat origine mentem, 
 Sancta Prometbefe retinens vestigia flanimaj. 
 Carmen amant superi, tremebundaque Tarlara carmen 
 Ima ciere valet, divosque ligare profundos, 
 Et triplici duros Manes adamante coercet. 
 Carmini scpositi retcgunt arcana futuri 
 Phoebades, et tremulae pallantes ora Sibyllae ; 
 Carmina sacrificus sollenncs pangit ad aras, 
 Aurea seu sternit motantem cornua tauruni ; 
 Seu cum fata sagax fumantibus abdita fibris 
 Consulit, et tepidis Parcani scrutaiur in extis. 
 Nos etiam patrium tunc eum repetemus Olympum, 
 ^ternceque moroe stabunt immobilis cevi ; 
 Ibimusauratis per coeli temjila coronis, 
 Dulcia siiaviloque socialites carmina ))lectro, 
 Astra quibus, geminique poli convexasonabunt. 
 Spiritus et rapidos qui circinat igneus orbes, 
 Nunc quoque sidereis intercinit ipse cboreis 
 Immortale melos, et inenarrabile carmen ; 
 Torrida dum rutilus compescit sibila serpens, 
 Demissoque ferox gladio mansuescit Orion ; 
 Stellarum necsentit onus Maurusius Atlas. 
 Carmina regales epulas ornare solebant. 
 Cum nondum luxus, vasta;que immensa vorago 
 Nota gulae, et modico spumabat coena Lyaeo. 
 Tum de more sedens festa ad convivia vates, 
 ^sculea intonsos redimitus ab arbore crines, 
 Hcroumque actus, imitandaque gesta canebat, 
 Et cbaos, et positi late fundamina mundi, 
 Reptantesque deos, et alentes numina glandes, 
 Et nondum ^Etneo quaesitumfulmen ab antro. 
 Denique quid vocis rnodulamen inane juvabit 
 Verborum sensusque vacans, numerique loquacis.^ 
 Silvestres decet iste cboros, non Orpbea cantus, 
 Qui tenuit fluvios, et quercubus addidit aures. 
 Carmine, noncitbara; simulacbraque functacanendo 
 Compulit in lacbrymas; habet bas a carmine laudes. 
 
 Nee tu perge precor, sacras contemnere Musas, 
 Nee vanas inopesque puta, quarum ipse peritus 
 Munere, mille sonos numeros componis ad aptos, 
 Millibus et vocem modulis variare canoram 
 Doctus, Arionii merito sis nominis baeres. 
 Nunc tibi quid mirum, si me genuisse poetam 
 Oontigerit, charo si tam prope sanguine juncti, 
 Cognatas artes, studiumque affine sequamur ? 
 Ipse volens Pbcebus se dispertire duobus, 
 
186 
 
 rOEMATA. 
 
 Altera dona milii, cledit altera dona parenti, 
 Dividuumque Deum, genitorque puerque, tenemus. 
 
 Tu tanien ut simulcs teneras odisse Camcenas, 
 Non odisse reor; neque enim, pater, ire jubebas 
 Qua via latapatet, quapronior area lucri, 
 Certaqiie contendi fulget spes aurea niimmi : 
 Nee rapis ad lejfes, male custoditaqiie g^entis 
 Jura, nee insulsis damiias clamnrihus aiires; 
 Sed magis excultam cupiens ditescere mentem, 
 Me procul urbano strepitu, secessibus altis 
 Abductum Aonite jucunda per otia ripa, 
 Pboebaeo iateri coniitem sinis ire beatum. 
 Ofiicium ehara taceo commune parentis. 
 Me poscunt majora : tuo, pater optime, sumptu 
 Cum niibi Romulcoe patuit facundia liufjute, 
 Et Latii veneres, et qute Jovis ora decebant 
 Grandia mag'niloquis elata vocabula Graiis, 
 Addere suasisti quos jactat Gallia flores ; 
 Et quam deg^eneri novus Italus ore loquelam 
 Fundit, Barbaricos testatus voce tumultus, 
 QuBeque Paleestinus loquitur mysteria vates. 
 Denique quicquid faabet coeluni, sublectaque coelo 
 Terra parens, terroeque et codIo interfluus aer, 
 Quicquid et unda tcifit, pontique aj^itabile marmor, 
 Per te nosse licet, per te, si nosse libebit : 
 Diraotaque vcnit spectanda scientia nube, 
 Nudaque conspicuos inclinat ad oscula vultus, 
 Ni Aifi;-isse velim, ni sit libasse molestum. 
 
 I nunc, confer opes, quisquis malesanus avitas 
 Austiiaci ofazas, Periianaque regno. proRoptas. 
 Quae potuit majora pater tribuisse, vel ipse 
 Jupiter, excepto, donasset ut omnia, coelo ? 
 Non potiora dedit, quamvis et tuta fuissent, 
 Publica qui juveni commisit lumina nato 
 Atque Hyperionis currus, et fraena diei, 
 Et circura undantem radiata luce tiaram. 
 Erg^o ego jam doctee pars quamlibet ima catervae 
 Victrices hederas inter, laurosque sedebo; 
 Jamque nee obscurus populo miscebor inerti, 
 Vitabuntque oculos vestigia nostra profanos. 
 Este procul vigiles curse, procul este querelae, 
 Inviditeque acies transverse tortilis birquo, 
 Saeva nee anguiferos extende calumnia rictus; 
 In me triste nihil foedissima turba potestis, 
 Nee vestri sum juris ego; securaque tutus 
 Peetora, vipereo gradiar sublimis ab ictu. 
 
 At tibi, chare pater, postquam non eequa merenti 
 Posse referre datur, nee dona rependere factis, 
 Sic memorasse satis, repetitaque munera grato 
 Percensere animu, fideeque reponere menti. 
 
 Et vos, O nostri, juvenilia carmina, lusus, 
 Si modo pcrpetuos sperare audebitis annos, 
 El domiiii superesse rogo, lucemque tueri, 
 Nee spisso rapient oblivia nigra sub Oreo, 
 Forsitan has laudes, decantatumque ])arcntis 
 Nomen, ad exemplum, scro servabitis eevo. 
 
 PSALM CXIV. 
 
 I7pa^\ 3rt iraili^:, or'' ayXad ^D\' 'larw/3it 
 
 At) Tort (lovvov !t]V otriov ytvo£ vhc 'lovSa. 
 
 'Ev St Qcor Xaoim fiiya Kptitov (iaaiXiviv. 
 
 YJiSt, Kai ivrponuStfv (piyaS' ippioijrTf OdXaaaa 
 
 Kvftan itXvuivti poQiif, 66' dp' i-rv(pi\ixOt} 
 
 'Ip6ff 'lopcuptjQ irori apyvpOfiSka irt)yt)V. 
 
 'Eic S' upta OKapOfioiaiv antipitria KXoviovro, 
 
 'Qf Kpiot ofpiyOiovTiQ ivrpa(pipfp iv aXu>y. 
 
 Baiorcpai S' ufta Ttaaat uvaaKiprrjfrav tptTTvat, 
 
 Ol« irapai avpiyyi <piXy virb (JLtjrtpt dpvtc' 
 
 TtVrt avy\ atvd 9dXaaaa, iriXup ^pOyaS' ippwtjaac 
 
 Kt'/iart liXvfifVfi poB'up ; ri S" dp' i'^vtfitXixOtjf 
 
 'ipbg 'lopSdvT) TTori dpyvpoiiHa Trtjyrjv ; 
 
 TtTrr' opta OKapOpoiaiv dnttpema KXovhaBt. 
 
 'Qf Kpioi acppiyoujvTtc tvrpa<pip<p iv dXuiy ; 
 
 Bajortpnt rl o' ap iififitQ dvaciKiprriaaT ipiirvai, 
 
 Ola irapai avpiyyi (piXy viro fiijTf.pi dpviQ ; 
 
 "S-iiio yala Tpknaa dibv fuydX' iKTVirtovra 
 
 Bala 5t6v rpiiHff viraTOV okfiaQ ' laaaicidao, 
 
 'Oq Tt icai IK aniXaSiov "jrorafiovQ x" p.opfivpovTaQ, 
 
 KpifVTjvT dtvaov irtrptic airb SaKpvokaartq. 
 
 Philosopbus ad regem quendam, qui eum ignotum et 
 insontem inter reos forte captum inscius damnaverat, 
 rijv iiri ^avdrip TToptvofiivoQ, hose subito misit. 
 
 'Q dva, tl 6Xi(jt]Q fit Tov tvvofiov, oiSs rtv' dvSpuv 
 Aiivov oXwQ Spdaavra, aoipioTaTOv iaOi Kaprfvov 
 ' PtfihwQ d(j)tXoio, TO S' VTtpov av9i vorjirtic, 
 Ma\piSiws S' dp' tirtira riov irpoQ Srvfiov oSvpfj, 
 Toiov S' tK iroXtog iripuowfiov dXKop oXiaaag. 
 
 In effigiei ejus Sculptorem. 
 
 'AfiaOtl ytypd(p9ai x^'pi T^vSi fiiv t'lKova 
 9aiyQ rax dv, rrpog f2Sog avTO<j)vtg /3Xljrwv. 
 Tor S' iKTvyruTov ovk iTrtyvortQ tpiXoi 
 TiXuTt ^avXii Svafiifiiffia !^wypu<pu. 
 
 AD SALSILLUM, POETAM ROMANUM 
 JCGROTANTEM. 
 
 SCAZONTES. 
 
 O MusA gressum quae volens trahis claudum, 
 Vulcanioque tarda gaudes incessu, 
 Nee sentis illud in loco minus gratum, 
 Quam cum decentes flava Deiope suras 
 Alternat aureum ante Junonis lectum ; 
 Adesdum et haRC s'is verba pauca Salsillo 
 Refer, Camoena nostra cui tantum est rordi, 
 Quamque ille magnis pr;ptulit immerito divis. 
 Htpc ergo alumnus ille Londini Milto, 
 Dicbus hisce qui suum linqnens niduni 
 Polique tractum, pessimus ul»i ventoruro, 
 Insanicntis impotensque pulmonis, 
 Pcrnix anhela sub Jove exercet flabra, 
 Vcnit feracos Itali soli ad glebas, 
 Visum superba cognitas urbcs fania 
 Virosque, doctoequc indolem juvcututis. 
 
POEMATA. 
 
 187 
 
 Tibi optat idem liic fausta multa, Salsille, 
 Habitunique fesso corpori penitiis sanum ; 
 Cui nunc profunda bilis infestat lenes, 
 Praecordiisque fixa damnosum spiral; 
 Nee id pepercit impia quod tu Romano 
 Tam cultus ore Lesbium eondis melos. 
 
 O dulce divum munus, O salus Hebes 
 Germana ! Tuque Phoebe morborum terror, 
 Pythone caeso, sive tu magis Paean 
 Libenter audis, hie tuus sacerdos est. 
 Querceta Fauni, vosque rore vinoso 
 Colles benigni, mitis Evandri sedes, 
 Siquid salubre vallibus frondet vestris, 
 Lavemen segro ferte certatim vati. 
 Sic ille, charis redditus rursum Musis, 
 Vicina duici prata niulcebit cantu. 
 Ipse inter atros emirabitur lucos 
 Numa, ubi beatum degit otium aetemum, 
 Suam reclivis semper .'Egeriam spectans. 
 Tumidusque et ipse Tibris, bine delinitus 
 Spei f'avebit annuae colonorum : 
 Nee in sepulchris ibit obsessum reges 
 Nimium sinistro laxus irruens Joro : 
 Sed I'rtena melius temperabit undarum, 
 Adusque curvi falsa regna Purtumui. 
 
 MANSUS. 
 
 Joannes Raptista Mansus Marchio Vilensis, vir ins^enii laude, turn 
 literarum studio, nee noii et bellica virtute apud Italos clarus 
 in primis est. Ad quern Torquati Tassi dialog^us extat de Anii- 
 citiascriptus; eratenim Tassi amicissimus; ab quo etiam inter 
 ('ampaniio principes celebratur, in illo poemate cui titulus Ct- 
 ruxaXemme ComiuiKtata, lib. 20. 
 
 Fra cavalier magnanimi, e Corteci 
 Risplende il Manso 
 
 Is authorem Neapoli commorantem summa benevolentia prose- 
 cutus est, multaque ei detulit humanitatis offieia. Ad hunc 
 itaque hospes ille antequam ab ea urbe discederet, ut ne in- 
 jjratum se ostenderat, hoc carmen misit. 
 
 H.«c quoque, Manse, tuae meditantur carmina laudi 
 Pierides, tibi, Manse, choro notissime Phoebi, 
 Quandoquidem ille alium baud a;quo est dignatus 
 
 honore, 
 Post Galli cineres, et Mecoenatis Hetrusci. 
 Tu quoque, si nostrae tantum valet aura Camcenae, 
 Victrices hederas inter, laurosque sedebis. 
 Te pridem magno feli.v concordia Tasso 
 Junxit, et aeternis inscripsit nomina chartis; 
 Mox tibi dulciloquum nou inscia Musa Marinum 
 Tradidit; ille tuum dici se gaudet alumnum 
 Dum canit Assyrios diviim prolixns aniores; 
 Mollis et Ausonias stupefecit carmine nymphas, 
 Ille itidem moriens tibi soli debita vates 
 Ossa, tibi soli, supremaque vota reliquit; 
 Nee manes pietas tiia chara fefellit aniici ; 
 Vidimus arridentem operoso ex cere poetam. 
 Nee satis hoc visum est in utrumque, et nee pia cessant 
 Offieia in tumulo; cupis integros rapere Oreo, 
 Qua potes, atque avidas Parcarum eludere leges : 
 Amborum genus, et varia sub sorte peraetam 
 Describis vitam, moresque, et dona Minervse; 
 
 Jilmulus illius, Mycalen qui natus ad altam, 
 Retulit iEolii vitam facundus Homeri. 
 Ergo ego te, Clius et magni nomine Phoebi, 
 Manse pater, jubeo longum salvere per jcvum, 
 Missus Hyperboreo juvenis peregrinus ab axe. 
 Nee tu longinquam bonus aspernabare Musam, 
 Quce nuper gelida vix enutrita sub Arcto 
 Imprudens Italas ausa est volitare per urbes. 
 Nos etiam in nostro modulantes flumine c^gnos 
 Credimus obscuras noctes sensisse per umbras, 
 Qua Thamesis late puris argenteus urnis 
 Oceani Glaucos perfundit gurgite crines: 
 Quin et in has quondam pervenit Tityrus oras. 
 
 Sed neque nos genus incultum,nec inutile Phocbo 
 Qua plaga septeno mundi sulcata Trione 
 Brumalem patitur longa sub nocte Booten. 
 Nos etiam colimus Phoebuni, nos munera Phocbo 
 Flaventes spicas, et lutea mala canistris, 
 Halantemque crocum (perhibet nisi vana vetustas) 
 Misimus, et leetas Druidum de gente choreas. 
 (Gens Druides antiqua sacris operata deorum 
 Heroum laudes imitandaque gesta canebant) 
 Hinc quoties festo cingunt altaria cantu 
 Delo in herbosaGraiae de more puellte, 
 Carminibus Isetis memorant Corineida Loxo, • 
 Fatidicamque Upin, cum flavicoma Hecaerge, 
 Nuda Caledonio variatas pectora fuco. 
 
 Fortunate senex, ergo quacunque per orbem 
 Torquati deeus, et nomen celebrabitur ingens, 
 Claraque perpetui succrescet fama Marini ; 
 Tu quoque inora frequens venies, plausumque virorum, 
 Et parili carpes iter immortale volatu. 
 Dicetur tum sponte tuos habitasse penates 
 Cynthius, et famulas venisse ad limina Musas: 
 At non sponte domum tamen idem, et regis adivit 
 Rura PheretiadfP, coelo fugitivus Apollo; 
 Ille licet magnum Alciden susceperat hospes ; 
 Tantiim ubi clamosos placuit vitare bubulcos, 
 Nobile mansueti cessit Chironis in antrum, 
 Irriguos inter saltus, frondosaque tecta, 
 Peneium prope rivum : ibi ssppc sub ilice nigra, 
 Ad cithariE strepitum, blanda prece victus amici, 
 Exilii duros lenibat voce labores. 
 Tum neque ripa suo, barathro nee fixa sub imo 
 Saxa stetere loco ; nutat Trachinia rupes. 
 Nee sentit solitas, immania pondera, silvas; 
 Emotaeque suis properant de coUibus orni, 
 Mulcenturque novo maculosi carmine lynces. 
 
 Diis dilecte senex, te Jupiter aequus oportet 
 Nascentem, et miti lustrarat lumine Phoebus, 
 Atlantisque nepos ; neque enim, nisi charus ab ortu 
 Diis superis, poterit magno favisse poetse. 
 Hinc longa!va tibi lento sub flore senectus 
 Vernat, et jEsonios lucratur vivida fnsos; 
 Nondum deciduos servans tibi frontis honores, 
 Ingeniumque vigens, etadultum mentis acumen. 
 O mihi si mea sors talem concedat amicum, 
 Phoebaeos decorasse viros qui tam bene norit. 
 Si quando indigenas revocabo in carmina reizes, 
 Arturumque etiam sub terris bella moventem ! 
 Aut dicam invictie sociali focdere mensse 
 
188 
 
 f^A^^-^^-^'POEMATA. 
 
 Mag'naniraos Heroas, et (O modo spiritns atlsit) 
 Frangani Saxunicas Britonem sub Marte phalanges. 
 Tandem ubi non tacitts permensus tempora vitce, 
 Annorumque satur, cineri sua jura relinquani, 
 Ille mihi Iccto niadidis astaret ocellis, 
 Astanti sat erit si dicam, sim tibi curae ; 
 Ille nieos artus, liventi niorte solutos, 
 Curaret parvet componi niolliter urna: 
 Forsitan et nostros ducat de marmore vultus, 
 Nectens aut Paphia myrti aut Parnasside lauri 
 Fronde cemas, at ego secura pace quiescam. 
 Turn quoque, si qua fides, si proemia certa bonorum, 
 Ipse ego ceelicolum seniotus in aethera diviim, 
 Quo labor et mens pura vehunt, atque ignea virtus, 
 Secreti hsec aliqua mundi de parte videbo, 
 Quantum fata sinunt: et tota mente serenum 
 Ridens, purpureo suffundar lumine vultns, 
 £t simul aethereo plaudara mihi lectus Olympo. 
 
 EPITAPHIUM DAMONIS. 
 
 ARGUMENTUM, 
 
 Thyrsis et Damon ejusdem viciniae pastores, eadem studia 
 sequuti, a pueritia atnici erant, ut qui plurimum. Thyrsis 
 animi causa profectus peregre de obitu Damonis nuncium ac- 
 cepit. Domuni postea reversus, ct rem ita esse comperto, se, 
 suamque solitudinem hoc carmine deplorat. Damonis autem 
 sub persona hie inteiligitur Carolus Deodatus ex urbe Hetrurire 
 Luca patemo genere ortundus, caetera Anglus; ingenio, doc- 
 trina, clarissimisque caeteris virtutibus, dum viveret, juvenis 
 egregius. 
 
 HiMERiDEs nymphoe (nam voset Daphnin et Hylan, 
 Et plorata diu meministis fata Bionis) 
 Dicite Sicelicum Thamesina per oppida carmen : 
 Quas miser effudit voces, quae murmura Thyrsis, 
 Et quibus assiduis exercuit antra querelis, 
 Fluminaque, fontesque vagos, neraorumque recessus; 
 Dum sibi paeruptum queritur Damona, neque altam 
 Luctibus exemit noctem loca sola pererrans. 
 Et jam bis viridi surgebat culmus arista, 
 Et totidem flavas numerabani horrea messes, 
 Ex quo sumnia dies tulerat Damona sub umbras. 
 Nee dum aderat Thyrsis; pastorcm scilicet ilium 
 Dulcis amor Musse Thusca retinebat in urbe. 
 Ast ubi mens expleta domum, pecorisque relicti 
 Cura vocat, simul assueta seditque sub ulmo. 
 Turn vero amissum turn denique sentit amicum, 
 Coepit et immensum sic exonerarc dolorem. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Hei mihi ! quae terris, quoe dicam numina ccelo, 
 Postquam te immiti rapuerunt Ainere, Damon ! 
 Siccine nos linquis, tua sic sine nomine virtus 
 Ibit, et obscuris numero sociabitur umbris? 
 At non ille, animas v'nga qui dividit aurea, 
 Ista velit, dignumque tui te ducat in agmen, 
 Ignavumque procul pecus arceat omne silentum. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Quicquid erit, certe nisi me lupus ante vidcbit, 
 Indeplorato non comminuerc sepulchre, 
 
 Constabitque tuus tibi honos, longumque vigebit 
 Inter pastores: Illi tibi vota secundo 
 Solvere post Daphnin, post Daphnin dicerelaudes 
 Gaudebunt, dum rura Pales, dum Faunus aniabit: 
 Si quid id est, priscamquc fidem coluisse, piiimque, 
 Palladiasque artes, sociumque habuisse canorum. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Hoec tibi certa manent, tibi erunt hsec proemia, Damon, 
 At mihi quid tandem fiet modo? quis mihi fidus 
 Haerebit latcri comes, ut tu saepc solebas * 
 Frigoribus duris, et per loca fa-ta pruinis, 
 Aut rapido sub sole, siti morientibus herbis? 
 Sive opus in magnos fuit eminus ire Icones, 
 Aut avidos terrere lupos prresopibus altis 
 Quis fando sopire diem, cantuque solebit? 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Pectora cui credam? quis me Icnire docebit 
 Mordaces curas, quis longam fallere noctem 
 Dulcibus alloquiis, grato cum sibilat igni 
 MoUe pyrum, et nucibus strepitat focus, et malus auster 
 Miscet cuncta foris, et desuper intonat ulmo? 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Aut opstate, dies medio dum vertitur axe. 
 Cum Pan aesculea somnum capit abditus umbra, 
 Et repetunt sub aquis sibi nota sedilia nymphae, 
 Pastoresque latent, stertit sub sepe colon us; 
 Quis mihi blanditiasque tuas, quis tum mihi risus, 
 Cecropiosque sales referet, cultosque lepores? 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 At jam solus agros, jam pascua solus oberro, 
 Sicubi ramosfe densantur vallibus umbrae; 
 Hie serum expecto ; supra caput imber ct Eurus 
 Triste sonant, fractreque agitata crepuscula sylvse. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Heu, quam culta mihi prius arva procacibus herbis 
 Involvuntur, et ipsa situseges alta fatiscit ! 
 Innuba neglecto marcescit et uva racemo. 
 Nee myrteta juvant ; ovium quoque teedet, at illae 
 Moerent, inque suum convetunt ora magistrum. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Tityrus ad corylos vocat, Alphesiboeus ad ornos, 
 Ad salices Aegon, ad flumina pulcher Amyntas, 
 ' Hie gelidi fontes, hie illita gramina musco, 
 Hie Zephiri, hie placidas interstrcpit arbutus undas;* 
 Ista canunt surdo, frutices ego nactus abibam. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Mopsus ad hsec, nam me redeuntem forte notarat, 
 (Et callebat avium linguas, et sidera Mopsus) 
 Thyi-si quid hoc? dixit, quae te coquit improba bills? 
 Aut te perdit amor, aut te malt! fascinat astrum, 
 Saturni grave sippe fuit pastoribus astrum, 
 Intiniaque obliquo figit praecordia plumbo. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Mirantur nymphee, ct quid te, Thyrsi, futurum est? 
 Quid tibi vis ? aiunt, non heec solet esse juventtB 
 Nubila frons, oculiqiie truces, vultusque seven, 
 Ilia chores, lususque leves, et semper amorem 
 Jure petit, bis ille miser qui serus amavit. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Venit Hyas, Dryop6que, et fiiia Baucidis Aegle 
 Docta modos, cithareeque sciens, sed perdita fastu, 
 
POEMATA. 
 
 189 
 
 Venit Idumanii Chlorus vicina fluenti ; 
 
 Nil me blanditiae, nil me solantia verba, 
 
 Nil me, si quid adest, movet, aut spes ulla futuri. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam iion vacat, a<jni. 
 Hei mihi, qiiam similes liidunt per prata juvenci, 
 Omnes unanimi seciim sibi lege sodales ! 
 Nee magis hunc alio quisquam secernit amicum 
 De gregfe, si densi veiiiunt ad pabula thoes, 
 Inque vicem hirsuti paribus junguntur onagri; 
 Lex eadem pelagi, deserto in littore Proteus 
 Agmina Phocarum numeral, vilisque volucrum 
 Passer babet semper quicum sit, et omnia circum 
 Farra libcns volitet, sero sua tecta revisens, 
 Quern si sors letho objecit, sua niilvus adunco 
 Fata tulit rostro, seu stravit arundine Ibssor, 
 Protinus ille alium socio petit inde volatu. 
 Nos durum genus, et diris exercita fatis 
 Gens homines, aliena animis, et pectorc discors ; 
 Vix sibi quisque pareni de millibus invenit unum ; 
 Aut si sors dederit tandem non aspera votis, 
 Ilium inopina dies qua non speraveris bora 
 Surripit, icternum linquens in saccula damnum. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Heu quis me ignotas traxit vagus error in eras 
 Ire per aereasrupes, Alpemque nivosam ! 
 Ecquid erat tanti Roniam vidisse sepultam, 
 (Quamvis ilia foret, qualemdum viseret olim, 
 Tityrus ipse suas etoves et rura rcliquit;) 
 Ut te tam dulci possem caruisse sodale, 
 Possem tot maria alta, tot interponere montes 
 Tot sylvas, tot saxa tibi, fluvlosque sonantes! 
 Ah certe extremum licuisset tangere dextram, 
 Et bene compositos placid6 morientis ocellos, 
 Et dixisse ' Vale, nostri memor ibis ad astra.' 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Quamquam etiam vestri nunquam meminisse pigebit, 
 Pastores Tbusci, Musis operatajuventus, 
 Hie Charis, atque Lepos; et Tbuscus tu quoque Damon 
 Antiqua genus unde petis Lucumonis ab urbe. 
 O ego quantus eram, gelidi cum stratus ad Ami 
 Murmura, populeumque nemus, qua mollior herba, 
 Carpere nunc violas, nunc summas carpere myrtos, 
 Et potui Lycidffi certantem audire Menalcam, 
 Ipse etiam tentare ausus sum, nee puto multiim 
 Displicui, nam sunt et apud me munera vestra 
 Fiscellae, calatbique, et cerea vincla cicutae: 
 Quin et nostra suas docuerunt noniina fagos 
 Et Datis, et Franoinus, erant et vocibus ambo 
 Et studiis noti, Lydorum sanguinis ambo. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Haec mihi turn laeto dictabat roscida luna, 
 Dum solus teneros claudebam cratibus hoedos. 
 Ah quoties dixi, cum te cinis ater habebat. 
 Nunc canit, aut lepori nunc tendit retia Damon, 
 Vimina nunc texit, varios sibi quod sit in usus ! 
 Et quae tum facili sperabam mente futura 
 Arrigui voto levis, et praesenta finxi, 
 Heus bone numquid agis? nisi te quid fortere tardat, 
 Imus? ct arguta paulum recubamus in umbra, 
 Aut ad aquas Colni, aut ubi jugera Caseibelauni ? 
 Tu mihi percurres medicos, tua gramina succos. 
 
 Helleborumque, humilesque crocos, foliumque bya- 
 
 cinthi. 
 Quasque habet ista palus herbas, artesquemedentum, 
 Ah pereant herbse, pereant artesque medentum, 
 Gramina, postquam ipsi nil profecere niagistro. 
 Ipse etiam, nam nescio quid mihi grande sonabat 
 Fistula, ab undecima jam lux est altera nocte, 
 Et tum forte novis admoram labra cicutis, 
 Dissiluere tamen rupta compage, nee ultra 
 Ferre graves potuere sonos, dubito quoque ne sim 
 Turgidulus, tamen ct referam, vos cedite silvce. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Ipse ego Dardanias Rutupina per aequora puppes 
 Dicam, et Pandrasidos regnum vetus Inogeniae, 
 Brennumque Arvigarumque_ duces, priscumque Be- 
 
 linum, 
 Et tandem Armoricos Britonum sub lege colonos; 
 Tum gravidam Arturo fatali fraude logernen, 
 Mendaces vultus, assumptaque Gorlois arma, 
 Merlini dolus. O mihi tum si vita supersit, 
 Tu procul annosa pendebis fistula pinu 
 Multum oblita mihi; aut patriis mutata Camoenis 
 Brittonicum strides, quid enim.** omnia non licet uni, 
 Non sperussc uni licet omnia, mi satis anipla 
 Alerces, et mihi grande decus (sim ignotus in eevum 
 Tum licet, externo penitusque inglorius orbi) 
 Si me flava comas legat Usa, et potor Alauni, 
 Vorticibusque frequens Abra, et nemus omne Treantoe, 
 Et Thamesis mens ante omnes, et fusca metallis 
 Tamara, et extremis me discant Orcades undis. 
 
 Ite domum impasti, domino jam non vacat, agni. 
 Hoec tibi scrvabam lenta sub cortice lauri, 
 Hjpc, et plura simul ; tum quae mihi pocula Mansus, 
 Mansus Chalcidictc non ultima gloria ripa% 
 Bina dedit, mirum artis opus, mirandus et ipse, 
 Et circum gemino caelavcrat argumento: 
 In medio rubri maris unda, et odoriferum ver, 
 Littora longa Arabum, et sudantes balsama sylvae, 
 Has inter Phrenix divina avis, unica terris, 
 Cieruleum fulgens diversicoloribus alis, 
 Auroram vitreis surgentem respicit undis ; 
 Parte alia polus omnipatens, et magnus Olympus : 
 Quis putet ? hie quoque Amor, pictseque in nubepha- 
 
 retrie, 
 Arma corusca faces, et spicula tincta pyropo; 
 Nee tenues animas, pectusque ignobili vulgi 
 Hinc ferit, at circum flammantia lumina torquens 
 Semper in erectum spargit sua tella per orbes 
 Impiger, et pronos nunquam collimat ad ictus. 
 Hinc mentes ardere sacrae, formeeque deorum. 
 
 Tu quoque in bis, nee me fallit spes lubrica, Damon, 
 Tu quoque in his certe es, nam quo tua dulcis abiret f 
 Sanctaque simplicitas, nam quo tua Candida virtus .'* 
 Nee te Lethseo fas quaesivisse sub orco. 
 Nee tibi conveniunt lacrymse, nee flebimus ultra, 
 Ite procul lacrymae, purum colit aethera Damon, 
 ^thera purus habet, pluvium pede repulit arcum ; 
 Heroiimque animas inter, divosque perennes, 
 yEthereos haurit latices et gaudia potat 
 Ore saero. Quin tu, coeli post jura recepta, 
 Dexter ades, placidiisque fave quicunque vocaris, 
 
190 
 
 POEM ATA. 
 
 Seu tu nostcr eris Damon, sive tpquior audis 
 Diudotiis, quo te divino iiotniiic cuncti 
 CoelicoltC norint, sylvisque vocabere Damon : 
 Quod tibi purpureas pudor, et sine labe juventus 
 Grata fuit, quod nulla tori libata voluptas, 
 En etiam tibi virs^^inei servantur honores ; 
 Ipse caput nitidum cinctus rutilante corona, 
 Loetaque frondentis gestans umbracula palmae, 
 iEternum perages inimortales bjmcnipos ; 
 Cantus ubi, choreisque furit lyra mista beatis, 
 Festa Sionoeo bacchantur et Orgia Thj'rso. 
 
 AD JOANNEM ROUSIUM OXONTENSIS 
 ACADEMIC BIBLIOTHECARIUM. 
 
 (Jan. 23. 1&46.) 
 
 De libro Poematum amisso, quem ille sibi denuo niitti postula- 
 bat, ut cum aliis nostris in Bibliotheca publica reponeret, Ode. 
 
 Strophe 1. 
 
 Gemelle cuitu simplici gaudens liber, 
 
 Fronde licet gemina, 
 
 Munditieque nitens non operosa, 
 
 Quam man us attulit 
 
 Juvenilis olim, 
 
 Sedula tamen baud nimii poetae ; 
 
 Dum vagus Ausonias nunc per umbras, 
 
 Nunc Britannica per vireta lusit 
 
 Insons populi, barbitoque devius 
 
 Indulsit patrio, mox itidem pectine Daunio 
 
 Longfinquum intonuit melos 
 
 Vicinis, et bumum vix tetigit pede : 
 
 Aiitistrophe. 
 
 Quis te, parve liber, quis te fratribus 
 Subduxit reliquis dolo? 
 Cum tu mi.ssus ab urbe, 
 Docto jugiter obsecrante amico 
 Illustre tendebas iter 
 Thamesis ad incunabula 
 Caerulei patris, 
 Fontes ubi limpidi 
 Aonidum, thyaisusque sacer, 
 Orbi notus per immensos 
 Temporum lapsus redeunte C(e1o, 
 Celeberque futurus in xvura ? 
 
 Strophe 2. 
 
 Modo quis deus, aut editus deo, 
 Fristinam gentis miseratus indolem, 
 (Si satis noxas luimus priores, 
 Mollique luxu degener otium) 
 Tollat nefandos civium tumuitus, 
 Almaquc revocet studia sanctus, 
 Et relcgatos sine sede Musas 
 
 Jam pene totis finibus Augligenum ; 
 
 Inimundas({ue volucres 
 
 Unguibus imminentes 
 
 Figat Apollinea pharetru, 
 
 Pliin^amque abigat pestem procul arane Fegaseo, 
 
 Antittrophe. 
 
 Quin tu, libelle, nuncii licet mala 
 
 Fide, vcl oscitantia, ' 
 
 Semel erraveris agmine fratrum, 
 
 Seu quis te teneat specus, 
 
 Seu qua te latebra, forsan unde vili ^ 
 
 Callo tereris institoris insulsi, 
 
 Laetare felix, en itcrum tibi 
 
 Spes nova fulget posse profundam 
 
 Fugere Letben, vehique superam 
 
 In Jovis aulam remige penna : 
 
 Strophe 3. 
 
 Nam te Roi'isius sui 
 
 Optat peculi, numeroque Justo 
 
 Sibi pollicitum queritur abesse, 
 
 Rogataque venias ille, cujus inclyta 
 
 Sunt data virum monumenta curoe : 
 
 Teque adytis etiam sacris 
 
 Voluit reponi, quibus et ipse praesidet 
 
 .Siternorum operum custos fidelis, 
 
 Quaestorque gazae nobilioris, 
 
 Quam cui prsefuit Ion 
 
 Clarus Erechtheides 
 
 Opulenta dei per templa parentis 
 
 Fulvosque tripodas, donaque Delphica, 
 
 Ion Actaea genitus Creusa. 
 
 Antistroplie. 
 
 Ergotu viserelucos 
 
 Musarum ibis amoenos, 
 
 Diamque Phcebi rursus ibis in domum, 
 
 Oxonia quam valle colit, 
 
 Delo posthabita, 
 
 Bifidoque Parnassi jugo: 
 
 Ibis bonestus, 
 
 Postquam egregiam tu quoque sortem 
 
 Nactus abis, dextri prece sollicitatus amici. 
 
 Illic legeris inter alta nomina 
 
 Autborum, Graiie simul et Latinee 
 
 Antiqua gentis lumina, et vcrum dccus. 
 
 Epodos. 
 
 Vos tandem baud vacui mci labores, 
 Quicquid hoc sterile fudit ingenium, 
 Jam sero placidam sperare jubeo 
 Pcrfunctam invidia requiem, sedesque beatas, 
 Quas bonus Hermes 
 Et tutela dabit solers Roiisi, 
 
 Quo neque lingua procax vulgi penetrabit, atquc 
 longe 
 
POEMATA. 
 
 191 
 
 Tuiba leg-enttim paiva facesset; 
 
 At ultimi nepotes, 
 
 Et coidatior o-tas 
 
 Juclicia rebus tcquiora forsitan 
 
 Adhibebit, intcfrro sinu. 
 
 Turn, livore sepulto, 
 
 Si quid meremur sana posteritas sciet, 
 
 Roiisio fa veil te. 
 
 Ode iribus constat Strophis, totidenique Antistro- 
 phis, una. demuni Epodo clausis, quas, tametsi omncs 
 i;ec versuuni numero, nee certis ubique colis cxacte 
 respondeant, ita tamen secuimus, commode le<rendi 
 potius, quam ad antiques conciuendi modos rationem 
 spectantes. Alioquin hoc genus rectiiis fortasse dici 
 raonstrophicum debuerat. Metra partim sunt Kara 
 axtaiv, partim ii-n-oXiXvfifva. Pbaleucia quae sunt Spon- 
 dreum tertio loco bis admittiint, quod idem in secun- 
 do loco Catullus ad libitum fecit. 
 
ITALIAN SONNETS. 
 
 1 
 
 I. 
 
 Donna leggiadra il cui bel nome honora 
 L'berbosa ral di Rheno, e il iiobil varco, 
 Bene 6 colui d' o'^ni valore scarco 
 Qiial tuo spirto gentil non innaniora, 
 
 Che dolcemente mostra si di fuora 
 De sui atti soavi g'iamai parco, 
 E i don', die son d' amor saette ed arco, 
 La onde 1' alta tua virtu s'infiora. 
 
 Quando tu vaga parli, o lieta canti » 
 
 Che mover possa duro alpestre legno, 
 Guardi ciascun a gli occhi, ed a gli orecchi 
 
 L*entranta, chi dite si truova indegno; 
 Gratia sola di su gli vaglia, inanti 
 Cbe '1 disio amoroso al cuor s'invecchi. 
 
 II. 
 
 QuAL in colle aspro, al imbrunir di sera 
 L' avezza giovinetla pastorella 
 Va bagnando I' herbetta strana e bella 
 Che mal si spande a disusata spera 
 
 Fuor di sua natia alma primavera, 
 Cosi Amor meco insu la lingua snella 
 Desta il fior novo di strania favella, 
 Mentre io di te, vezzosamente altera, 
 
 Canto, dal mio buon popol non inteso 
 E '1 bel Tamigi cangio col bel Anio. 
 Amor lo volse, ed io a I'altrui peso 
 
 Seppi ch' Amor cosa mai volse indarno. 
 Deh ! foss' il mio cuor lento e '1 duro seno 
 A chi pianta dal ciel si buon terreno. 
 
 RiDONSi donne e giovani amorosi 
 M' accostandosi attorno, e perche scrivi, 
 Perche tu scrivi in lingua ignota e strana 
 Verseggiando d' amor, e come t' osi ? 
 Dinne, se la tua speme sia mai vana, 
 E de pensieri lo miglior t'arrivi ; 
 Cosi mi van burlando, altri rivi 
 Altri lidi t' aspettan, et altre onde 
 Xelle cui verdi sponde 
 Spuntati ad hor, ad hor a la tua chioma 
 L' immortal guiderdon d' eteme frondi 
 Perche alle spalle tue soverchia soma ? 
 Canzon dirotti, e tu per me rispondi 
 Dice mia Donna, e'l suo dir, e il mio ciiore 
 Questa e lingua di cui si vanta Amore. 
 
 III. 
 
 DioDATi, e te'l diro con maraviglia, 
 Quel ritroso io cli' amor spreggiar solea 
 E de suoi lacci spesso mi ridea 
 Gia caddi, ov'huom dabbcn talhor s'inipiglia. 
 
 Ne treccie d' oro, ne guancia vermiglia 
 M' abbaglian si, ma sotto nova idea 
 Pellegrina bellezza che '1 cuor bea, 
 Portamenti alti honesti, e nelle ciglia 
 
 Quel sereno fulgor d' amabil nero. 
 Parole adome di lingua piu d' una, 
 E '1 cantar che di mezzo 1' hemispero 
 
 Traviar ben pno la faticosa Luna, 
 
 E degli occhi suoi auventa si gran fuoco 
 Che 1' incerar gli orecchi mi fia poco. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Per certo i bei vostr' occhi, Donn« mia 
 Esser non puo che non sian lo mio sole 
 Si mi percuoton forte, come ei suole 
 Per 1' arene di Libia chi s' invia, 
 
 Mentre un caldo vapor (ne senti pria) 
 Da quel lato si spinge ove mi duole, 
 Che forse amanti nelle lor parole 
 Cbiaman sospir, io non so che si sia : 
 
 Parte rinchiusa, e turbida si cela 
 
 Scosso mi il petto, e poi n' uscendo poco 
 Quivi d' attorno o s' agghiaccia, o s'ingiela : 
 
 Ma quanto a gli occhi giunge a trovar loco 
 Tutte le notti a me suoi far piovose 
 Finche mia Alba rivien colma di rose. 
 
 V. 
 
 GiovANE piano, e semplicetto amante 
 
 Poi che fuggir me'stesso in dubbio sono, 
 
 Madonna a voi del mio cuor Thumil dono 
 
 Faro divoto ; io certo a prove tante 
 L' hebbi fedele, intrepido, costante, 
 
 De pensieri leggiadro, accorto, e buono; 
 
 Quanto rugge il gran mondo, e scocca il tuono, 
 
 S'arma di se, e d' intero diamante, 
 Tanto del forse, e d'invidia sicuro, 
 
 Di timori, e speranze al popol use 
 
 Quanto d'ingegno, e d' alto valor vago, 
 E di cetta sonora, e delle muse : 
 
 Sol troverete in tal parte men duro 
 
 Ove amor mise I'insanabil ago. 
 
 CJ5 
 
 THE END. 
 
 RUN GAY: STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED RY J. R. AND C. CBlLDS. 
 
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